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foreverpraying · 5 years ago

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April 24 is the feast day of St. George, martyr and St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen, priest and martyr

St. George

Source of picture: www.speel.me.uk

It is uncertain when Saint George was born and historians continue to debate to this day. However, his death date is estimated to be April 23 303 A.D.

George was born to a Gerontios and Polychronia, a Roman officer and a Greek native of Lydda. Both were Christians from noble families of the Anici and George, Georgios in the original Greek, was raised to follow their faith.

When George was old enough, he was welcomed into Diocletian's army. By his late 20's, George became a Tribunus and served as an imperial guard for the Emperor at Nicomedia.

On February 24, 303 A.D., Diocletian, who hated Christians, announced that every Christian would be arrested and every other soldier should offer a sacrifice to the Roman gods.

George refused to abide by the order and told Diocletian, who was angry but greatly valued his friendship with George's father.

When George announced his beliefs before his peers, Diocletian was unable to keep the news to himself.

In an effort to save George, Diocletian attempted to convert him to believe in the Roman gods, offered him land, money and slaves in exchange for offering a sacrifice to the Roman gods, and made several other offers that George refused.

Finally, after exhausting all other options, Diocletian ordered George's execution. In preparation for his death, George gave his money to the poor and was sent for several torture sessions. He was lacerated on a wheel of swords and required resuscitation three times, but still George did not turn from God.

On April 23, 303 A.D., George was decapitated before Nicomedia's outer wall. His body was sent to Lydda for burial, and other Christians went to honor George as a martyr.

Saint George and the Dragon

Source of picture: https://fineartamerica.com

There are several stories about George fighting dragons, but in the Western version, a dragon or crocodile made its nest at a spring that provided water to Silene, believed to be modern-day Lcyrene in Libya.

The people were unable to collect water and so attempted to remove the dragon from its nest on several ocassions. It would temporarily leave its nest when they offered it a sheep each day, until the sheep disappeared and the people were distraught.

This was when they decided that a maiden would be just as effective as sending a sheep. The townspeople chose the victim by drawing straws. This continued until one day the princess' straw was drawn.

The monarch begged for her to be spared but the people would not have it. She was offered to the dragon, but before she could be devoured, George appeared. He faced the dragon, protected himself with the sign of the Cross, and slayed the dragon.

After saving the town, the citizens abandoned their paganism and were all converted to Christianity.

Prayer for St. George

Source of picture: www.speel.me.uk

St. George,

Heroic Catholic soldier and defender of your Faith, you dared to criticize a tyrannical Emperor and were subjected to horrible torture. You could have occupied a high military position but you preferred to die for your Lord.

Obtain for us the great grace of heroic Christian courage that should mark soldiers of Christ. Amen.

Source: www.catholic.org

Life of St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen

Source of picture: https://anastpaul.wordpress.com

He was born Mark Roy or Rey in 1577, in Sigmaringen, a town in modern-day Germany, then under the Principality of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. His father's name was John Rey. He studied law and philosophy at the University of Freiburg.

Roy subsequently taught philosophy at this university, ultimately earning the degree of Doctor of Law. During his time as a student he did not drink wine, and wore a hair-shirt. He was known for his modesty, meekness and chastity.

In 1604, Roy accompanied, as preceptor (teacher-mentor), three young Swabian gentlemen on their travels through the principal parts of Europe. During six years of travel, he attended Mass very frequently. In every town they came to, he visited the hospitals and churches, passed several hours on his knees in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament, and was generous to the poor, sometimes giving them the very clothes off his back.

Upon his return, he practiced law as a counselor or advocate, at Colmar, in Alsace, France where he came to be known as the 'poor man's lawyer'. He scrupulously forbore all invectives, detractions, and whatever might affect the reputation of any adversary. Disenchanted with the evils associated with his profession, he was determined to join his brother George as a member of the Capuchin friars.

Upon entering the Capuchin order, the guardian gave him the religious name of Fidelis, the Latin word for "faithful," alluding to that text from the Book of Revelation which promises a crown of life to him who shall continue faithful to the end. He finished his novitiate and studies for the priesthood, presiding over his first Mass at the Capuchin friary in Fribourg (in present-day Switzerland), on October 4, 1612 (the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the order).

During a severe epidemic in a city, Fidelis cared for and cured many sick soldiers. Many residents of the town and neighboring places were reformed by his zealous labors, and several Calvinists were converted. The Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith commissioned Fidelis to preach in the Graubünden region of eastern Switzerland. Eight other Capuchin friars were to be his assistants, and they labored in this mission under his direction.

The Calvinists of that territory, being incensed at his success in converting their brethren, loudly threatened Fidelis' life, and he prepared himself for martyrdom.

On April 24, 1622, Fidelis made his confession, celebrated Mass and then preached at Grüsch. At the end of his sermon, which he had delivered with more than ordinary zeal, he stood silent all of a sudden, with his eyes fixed upon Heaven, in ecstasy. He foretold his death to several persons in the clearest terms, and began signing his letters, "P. Fidelis, prope diem esca vermium" ("Father Fidelis, in days ahead to become food for worms"). After the service at Grüsch he and several companions traveled to Seewis. His companions noted that he was particularly cheerful.

St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen with St. Joseph of Leonessa (Tiepolo, 1752-1758)

Giambattista Tiepolo: St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen & St. Joseph of Leonessa

On April 24, in a campaign organized by the Habsburgs, Fidelis was preaching under protection of some Austrian imperial soldiers in the Church at Seewis with the aim to reconvert the people of Seewis to Catholicism. During the sermon, his listeners were called "to arms" by the Calvinist agitators outside. Some of the people went to face the Austrian troops outside the church. Fidelis had been persuaded by the remaining Catholics to immediately flee with the Austrian troops out of Seewis, which he did, but then returned alone to Grüsch. On his way back he was confronted by 20 Calvinist soldiers who demanded unsuccessfully that he renounce the Catholic faith, and when he refused, they subsequently murdered him.

It is said that a Catholic woman lay concealed near the place of Fidelis' martyrdom as the saint was slain. After the soldiers had left, she came out to assess the incident and found the martyr's eyes open, fixed on the heavens. He was buried by Catholics the next day.

After six months, the martyr's body was found to be incorrupt, but his head and left arm were separated from his body. The body parts were then placed into two reliquaries, one sent to the Cathedral of Coire, at the behest of the bishop, and laid under the High Altar; the other was placed in the Capuchin church at Weltkirchen, Feldkirch, Austria.

Source: www.catholic.org

Prayer to St. Fidelis of Sigmaringen

Father, you filled Saint Fidelis with the fire of your love and gave him the privilege of dying that the faith might live. Let his prayers keep us firmly grounded in your love, and help us to come to know the power of Christ’s resurrection. Through Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Source: https://prayers4reparation.wordpress.com

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multific · 2 years ago

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A Ghost from the Past

Logan x Reader

Summary: A ghost from the past visit's him one day.

A tired old man, a tired really really old man is how Logan describes himself.

A tired old man who once again, found himself living alone in a cabin.

He might have been the Wolverine, but this was the first time in his life when he despised being alone.

He knew he will die alone, but now, that felt closer, death scared him but dying alone scared him more.

Almost every day, he would wake up after dreaming about you. Seeing you as you smiled, laughed and kissed him.

That was the best time of his life.

Being with you.

And of course, his anger issues ruined that as well. He drove you away from him and now, every day he regretted it.

He could have had a quiet life with you, a family even. But he made himself believe that is not what he deserved. He didn't deserve you or happiness.

And now, many years later, he hated it.

He wanted to wake up holding you, kissing you. He would give everything just to see you once more. Just to be with you again.

But he haven't seen you in so long, he wasn't even sure you were alive.

You were a smart mutant, he was sure you would be able to survive. He hoped you had a good life, a husband and even children.

He had a routine, after the sweet dreams, he would wake up to hell. He would sit out on his porch, and drink his whiskey before cutting trees for the fire.

Nothing numbed his pain, nothing helped.

He was alone in the woods, in his cabin, this is what he deserved, he often told himself. He was an animal after all.

One morning, as he woke up, the sun was already up and high, as usual, he walked to his porch and he was sure he was seeing a ghost.

You stood there, like an angel, a ghost from his past haunting him. You looked the same, the exact same as the day he lost you. Or rather, left you.

You didn't speak, so he was sure he was imagining it.

But then, you moved and not only moved, but you also proved you weren't a hallucination.

You walked over to him, placing a hand on his cheek, his heart clenched.

"I finally understand. Took me very long but I understand now. You left because you wanted to give me a chance. But how many times did I tell you that I did not care? How many times did I tell you I love you? And I still do."

"You are beautiful." you smiled, just like in his dreams. That was it, this was a dream.

"I don't age you know that." he did, your mutation was similar to his, you were basically a God. Never aging. "I missed you." you said as he hugged you.

"I don't want to wake up, this is the best dream. Feels so real."

"You are not dreaming My Wolverine. I found you and this time I'm not leaving nor will I let you leave."

He nodded, finally realizing this wasn't a dream, he leaned down to kiss you.

He was older, grey hair, wrinkles, and his expression said it all, he lived too long. But you didn't care, he was still your Logan.

"I missed you so much." he said as he held you tighter.

He might look and feel old now, yet his hold was still as strong as ever. He couldn’t believe he had you back, he felt privileged to hold you and kiss you once again.

And this time, he won’t let go either.

---

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

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You Were Made To Be Mine - 3.

Pirate!Bucky x Mermaid!Reader

Part 3 of this series.

Run-through: Bucky is one of the greatest pirates ever known. Living peacefully in his vast and flourishing archipelago; filthy rich and respected by all those around him. He is the leader of his people and his massive fleet, and is viewed as no less than a king by his crew and the people on his lands. He, however, has a secret that he keeps from everyone. The infamous and brawny pirate has lost his heart to one of the most beautiful creations he’s ever seen – you. Ever since the moment he saw you, he knew that you were meant to be his. But he belonged to the earth, you to the ocean. Could love and resilience somehow find a way to unite two worlds?

Themes: mermaid!reader, mythological elements, pirate!bucky, fluff, slight angst, smut

a/n: This will be the last part of this series. Thank you to everyone who loved this series, and pirate!bucky as much as I did! I love you guys so much!

One week in your absence felt like a thousand years to the heartbroken man you had left behind.

A tragedy of his own making, truth be told.

Bucky was miserable, torn and completely unable to function properly now with you gone. He could barely sleep. And spent most of his time on the shore of the small isle – where he used to meet up with you. Which used to be his favorite place but now the shore and the rocks only reminded him of his terrible mistake. A mistake which cost him the one thing he soon realized he couldn’t live without.

Sat there, on the rock where he had spent countless hours with you in the past just talking and learning about each other and falling deeper and deeper in love, Bucky looked down to see a shiny pearl in the palm of his hand. You brought him many pretty things from the depths of the ocean – shells, pearls, but this one pearl stood out the most to him. Mainly because the color of it reminded him of the many hues present on your tail.

“I miss you, my little pearl. Come back to me. Please.” He whispered under his breath. Sad and sulking, he hadn’t smiled since you were gone. Sometimes it felt like he hadn’t lived at all before he met you and now with you gone, he was just… existing – void of any happiness and love and warmth.

As each wave crashed on the shore and on the rocks, it felt like someone was poking at a wound. Each day he returned back to his island, without any knowledge of your whereabouts, it felt like a defeat. Bucky spent the nights at the isle, then rowed back in the morning – where he slept and sulked all day inside his home and came out at night again to row back to the isle. He was a mess and only you could fix it, but you were mad and broken and gone.

His friends were worried sick but there was nothing they could do. It was impossible to even look for you because they would never find you from the surface. All they could do was wait and pray that you come back else they feared that their friend might die from a heartbreak. He was already in so much pain already.

Bucky never gave up. Midway into the second week, he was hurting just the same but that didn’t diminish his hope. He would sit at the rock and wait each night. You never showed up, but he never stopped showing up either. He’d sit there at the shore or on your rock and just reminisce the time he spent with you. He’d smile to himself, laugh at the funny things, shed a tear or two whenever the realization hit him and reminded him cruelly that you were gone and it was his fault.

“I’m not gonna make it without you. Please come back.” he begged, looking towards the ocean as the gentle, cool and salty wind caressed his face, reminding him of your touch. Damp and cool but it brought him warmth like no other. And just like always, all he got back as a reply was tranquility and the sound of waves dying out on the shore – much like him.

Yet, just like the waves, he was resilient and he kept coming back hoping that one day you’ll show up. He had faith in the love he had for you, and he knew that you’d be reunited again one day. Sooner or later.

Lucky for him, that day wasn’t too far.

One evening, Bucky felt much better than he had ever felt in the past two weeks in your absence. Which was weird because he’d only been sad and gloomy since the day you were gone. But tonight as he rowed to the isle he was almost, dare he say, excited and more hopeful than ever. He was confused but he felt tingly and warm – like how he usually felt whenever you were around.

And much to his surprise, he had been right. Because as soon as he reached the shore, he felt immediately more alive. And something told him that you were close by.

“Sweetheart? Is it you?” he called out, using the moonlight and the torch to look around as much as he could. He found you and his body froze to the ground.

He found you on the shore, not far from him. You appeared to be unconscious, and as though the waves had washed your body up to the shore. He ran to you, and as soon as he got close enough, his heart skipped a beat or two.

You were… human. With legs in lieu of your lovely tail and fins. Oh sweetheart…

Bucky fell to his knees beside your bare body and wedged the torch to the ground and pulled your body up to him. Bucky immediately removed his thick coat and wrapped you in it, sheltering you from the cold. You whimpered as he touched you, because even when not so conscious, you knew it was him. “Wake up, Y/N. Please wake up,” he cradled you against his warm chest.

He could feel your heartbeat as he held you against him, and that was the only thing keeping him from being hysterical due to all the overwhelming emotions he was feeling. Regret for letting you go in the first place. Guilt for being selfish. Heartache because he had broken your heart in doing so. Happiness for having found you at last. It all hit him right in the face like a harsh punch.

He felt like he wanted to scream and shout and just do something, but then the sound of your voice calmed him down instantly.

“Buck…” your voice sounded hoarse and it ended in a cough. You didn’t open your eyes but you felt him there, holding you. You felt safe.

“I’m here, my love. I’m right here. Are you okay? What- I need to know you’re okay, please.” He waited, leaning in to kiss your forehead as he hugged you tighter.

You struggled to talk but you managed to mumble out some words, “It’s… I…everything hurts.”

Bucky felt like he was being torn apart limb by limb. “How can I make it better, sweetheart? Tell me what to do.” he sounded frantic and scared and hurt all at the same time.

Your next few words made him shed tears right there on the shore. “Take me home.” He held you, clinging to you like a child and he cried silently. Whispering and pleading and telling you he’s sorry.

When Bucky brought you home that night, his friends were surprised but they didn’t question him right away. Thor was the one who knew just what to give you for the pain. Okoye brought you all that a woman could need. And Sam and Steve worked on what to tell the rest of the people when they find out about you.

You were still slipping in and out of consciousness. And no one knew what happened in those two weeks, all they could do was wait for you to wake up.

“She’s alright. She’s here with you now, with us. Everything’s going to be alright, Buck.” Steve gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder and Bucky nodded. “Get some sleep. I’m sure she’ll be fine by morning.”

His friends all left, telling him they were close by and to call for them if he needed help with anything. Bucky walked them till the front door then hurried his way back to you. He had cleaned you and dressed you in a light blue sleeping gown and placed you in his bed, you looked comfortable and at ease. But he wanted you to just wake up already.

There was so many questions he needed answers to, so much he had to apologize for, so much to make up for.

“I love you more than anything.” He whispered and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry, my love.” Bucky stayed by your side the entire night that night. He hadn’t seen you for two weeks, so each glimpse of you now was a privilege that he was more than grateful for.

You woke up abruptly in the middle of the night; panicking and panting. You felt warm, and something was clinging to your body. Your eyes were wide open and you felt so hot. Your chest was heaving and you thrashed around trying to reorient yourself and find out where you were. All you felt was dry, silky material wrapped all around you.

Your movements woke Bucky up and he opened his eyes and realized that the candles had gone out so hurried to light them up again. And once he did and turned around, he caught your stare. You were clearly disoriented and scared.

“Hey…” he came over and sat down on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out to touch your cheek and you closed your eyes and relished the feeling of his skin against yours. Oh how you had missed him. “Are you in pain right now?” he asked, there was so much you and him needed to talk about but right now your comfort and health was more important that anything. Besides, now you would plenty of time to discuss things.

You shook your head. You weren’t in any physical pain, not anymore. But your heart hurt. “How did you…” your voice trailed off, your throat suddenly feeling dry and itchy. Bucky figured you needed some water so he grabbed the nearby goblet of water and held it up to your lips. Reluctantly you leaned in, but then stopped.

“It’s just water. You’re thirsty, you need some. Drink,” he cupped your face gently and tipped the lip of the goblet a little, letting some water into your mouth. You drank half of it and closed your eyes and sighed, it seemed to have quenched your thirst.

“Thank you.” you mumbled as Bucky placed the goblet to the side and turned to face you. One look into his pretty blue eyes and your own started watering. It was all too much to bear. The separation had killed you, the heartbreak as well. And now here you were, thousands of unasked questions between you two acting as another barrier, although you had just overcame a major one.

Bucky spoke up after a few seconds of staring into your eyes. “I found you on the shore. You were barely conscious at the time.” He filled you in on the part which you seemed to have trouble remembering. You nodded and he spoke up again. “I’m sorry I let you go.” He scooted closer to you and caressed your cheek. “I love you. Way too much. It’s killing me, sweetheart. I don’t know what to do.”

He sounded lost and vulnerable. Your tears fell, despite how much you tried to hold them back. You let out a quiet sob as you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back, tightly securing his arms around you. Your tears were incessant, but you broke into a faint smile as he cradled your head. Your hugs weren’t damp and cold anymore, but warm and comfortable.

When the tears finally stopped, you pulled away and filled Bucky in on what he missed. After you ‘broke up’ you were pissed and dove into deep waters without a care in the world. You made it to where the potion supposedly was, and after spending multiple days looking for it, you managed to find it.

Your memory was messy and scattered after that. You remember feeling pain. A lot of pain, and you remember passing out and feeling like you were being torn in two.

“I must have lost consciousness then. I don’t remember. But the waves thankfully brought me to the shore.” You finished. Bucky listened attentively. God, he felt awful.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” he apologized, looking down in his lap where he held both your hands in his.

You squeezed his hands. “It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“I was stupid to let you go.” He argued.

You smiled and reached up to touch his face. “I wouldn’t be here, like this,” you pointed at your lower limbs, “if you didn’t let me go.”

“I love you.”

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “And I love you.” you mumbled against his lips.

Bucky spent the whole night just holding you close to him. You were still a little weak and unwell, but you promised him you would be alright in the morning. After all, you were way too excited to explore his island and meet his people and be one of them.

“Will they like me?” you asked, unable to fall asleep. Bucky chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“They’ll love you.” he replied.

He had been right.

As soon as his friends came by the next morning, they were all impatient to see you at once. They told Bucky that they would make up a story and tell the rest of the inhabitants of the archipelago that you were found stranded on an island, and that’s where Bucky found you.

“We have to hide the truth, for her sake.” Sam made sure everybody understood and were on the same page. Everyone nodded.

When Bucky came to get you, you wobbled on your feet a little before standing up. “I’ll have to get used to this.”

Bucky chuckled and came over to help you steady yourself. “One foot in front of the other. We’ll take it slow, sweetheart. Don’t you worry, you’ll get the hang of things in no time.” He smiled and led you out of the room.

You struggled to walk initially, but you were a quick learner. By the time you reached downstairs, you were able to walk on your own, but you still let Bucky keep his arms around you and you held on to him just in case. You met Bucky’s closest friend in the foyer. And the men all stared at you like they had never seen anything like you before. The woman however, Okoye – Bucky spoke of her often, gave you a polite smile.

“Welcome to our world.” She spoke, stepping closer and giving you a polite nod.

You smiled at her, her warmth rubbing off on you. “Thank you for the clothes.” Bucky had told you last night how she had made all the arrangements regarding your clothes. She smiled and said there was no need to thank her.

“You’re one of us now. You’re family.”

You almost shed tear of joy at her words. And something told you that you and Okoye would get along really well in the future. She just had that kind of aura around her; fierce and strong but also almost motherly and caring.

Bucky introduced you to everyone else. You recognized Steve from the swords fight. Then Sam was just as Bucky described him. Thor was much taller and broader than you imagined, but he was also the most gentle out of all of them.

Steve spoke up soon after you were introduced to all of them. “We’re so glad you’re finally here. Now someone,” he looked directly at Bucky, “will finally stop weeping and moaning in sadness.” That earned a round of chuckles and a giggle from you.

Bucky shot Steve a glare and had you not been there, he would have showered his friend with insults. You immediately liked them all. And even after they left, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I can’t wait to meet everyone!” you chirped as Bucky helped you sit down at the stone table for breakfast. He figured you must be hungry.

“I can’t wait either, but it’s time you eat.” His words made you a little nervous, but also excited. Bucky gave you a quick tutorial on how to handle cutlery and you learnt in less than a few minutes. “That’s really good!” he cheered as you took your first bite of food all on your own.

You chewed cautiously, then turned to him with wide eyes. He chuckled, happy that you seemed to really enjoy human food.

That was just the beginning, soon Bucky realized that you were no different than a child experiencing everything the world had to offer for the first time. Bucky really enjoyed walking you through everything; and luckily you learnt everything rather quickly.

By the end of the first week, you were able to walk around on your own, dress yourself up and wash and brush your teeth and do your own hair. Bucky was impressed.

Some days later, Bucky decided that it was time to introduce you to everyone. And he meant everyone.

You had always wanted to be part of one of Bucky’s feast but you had never thought it would be this grand, and crowded and loud and cheery. People gathered around the many tables; loud chatter, laughter and clinging of goblets – it made you happy.

Bucky managed to get everyone’s attention. And told them the makeshift story of how he once found you, stranded on an island far from here. He added to the story and told them that he had to keep you hidden for a week or so because you were injured and sick but you were all better now.

“So I’m glad to introduce you to Y/N, the newest member of our family.” He held your hand showed you off proudly. He didn’t have to say it, everyone present at the massive hall could tell that he was madly in love with you. It could be seen in his eyes as he looked at you in pure adoration.

Your introduction was followed by a loud roar of cheer and claps and merry. Everyone was just happy that their mass was growing, and they took pride in it.

All throughout the feast, Bucky couldn’t help but feel more powerful as he sat next to you. He felt like he was on top of the world, like there was nothing he couldn’t do. You completed him. And you were here now, here to stay. Forever by his side.

Bucky made love to you that night. He couldn’t hold back from touching you anymore. All those nights of sleeping beside you, and not holding you or pleasuring you like he so desperately wanted to, had been pure torture.

Not only for him, but you as well. Having to see him shirtless and having his arms around you almost all the time had been making you feel hot and bothered almost always. But you were too shy and inexperienced to initiate anything so you waited. Until tonight.

Back home from the feast, as soon as you walked into your shared bedroom, Bucky grabbed you and gently pressed you against the door once he closed it behind him. He had you trapped between him and the door, and you weren’t complaining.

The look in his eyes spoke volumes. He was hungry and wild, and ready to ravish you all night long. But he knew he had to be gentle with you. He wondered how to ease you into it but you took care of that by reaching up and pressing your lips to his. You kiss was rough and needy, even Bucky was surprised.

Your body trembled in anticipation as he wrapped his arms around you and walked the two of you towards the large bed. His tongue slipped past your lips, and you let him. He stroked the top of your mouth and you found yourself whining and needing more.

Your body felt like it was on fire. One which could only be doused by his touch. Yet as soothing as his touch was, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you wanted him. Unrestrained, and passionately. You needed him so terribly you almost begged.

As soon as your back hit the soft mattress, Bucky pulled away and looked down at you. His body hovered over yours, and your hands caressed the back of his neck lovingly. “Make me yours.” You whispered.

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. “My little pearl…” he was feeling too much to talk. So he decided to let his emotions show instead. He planned on worshipping your body and make love to you until the sun came up.

Bucky pressed his body down against yours. Nothing had to be said, you could both see it in each other’s eyes; the love, the desire and the need. The feral need. That same tingle spread all over you again – the one you got each time he touched you even in the most innocent ways possible. You looked up to see his eyes had darkened a shade. His grip tightened on your body and he dipped his head and kissed down your neck – making you shiver again.

“I will make you mine. Just promise you’ll tell me if it hurts or makes you uncomfortable. Yes?” he made sure you understood. You nodded and mumbled a ‘yes’.

Bucky took his time and got you out of the lovely dress you were wearing. As much as he liked it, he liked you better naked. So he didn’t stop undressing you until you were bare against his sheets. He looked down at you like you were a meal, and he, a hungry man with an insatiable appetite. You felt no awkwardness, no shame. You were his, entirely and his gaze only made you feel more confident and beautiful.

He went on to remove most of his clothes as well, leaving only his pants on. Bucky leaned down to kiss every inch of your body. Your lips, down your neck, your collar bones and your chest. He paid a lot of attention to your breasts; licking and biting and sucking, letting his hands cup your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and fondling. Instinctively, your back arched off the bed and you whimpered under his soft, yet needy touch. Bucky was eager to show you how much he loves you, but he knew he had to take it slow.

He dragged his soft lips up and down your body, making you tremble under his touch. His beard pricked your skin but it also tickled, making your whine end in a giggle. He smiled when he heard the noises you made, he knew it would be his favorite things to hear from now on.

Your body tingled and burned under his touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than have him buried deep in you. But you were also nervous for your first time together, but the pressing need inside you overpowered the nervousness.

His mouth found yours as his hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. The foreign, but very pleasant feeling caused a shiver to run down your spine; you shivered and moaned through the kiss. His knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you whimper. He chuckled against your mouth upon feeling just how aroused you were. Wet, and warm and ready – just as needy as he was.

But he wanted to take his time and savour you first. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. He poked at your entrance with his finger, “Is this okay, sweetheart?” he wanted to confirm. You nodded quickly, eyes shut and head thrown back.

“Yes… please Buck…” you were breathless already. Pulsing and hot, your body wanted him bad. So bad. He chuckled at your reply and pushed a finger into you and you shivered. He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his finger, then added another; making you whine.

You felt your hole stretch around his fingers as he was knuckles deep in you, slowly slipping his fingers in and out of you. He kissed the side of your face, along your jaw and down your neck as he sped up. Your legs spread further apart naturally, a sign that you wanted more. Bucky smirked.

“You feel so good around my fingers, sweetheart,” he whispered, nibbling at your jaw. “So warm, and wet…” he chuckled and the sound of his laugh was so hot it made your body clench around his fingers. He noticed and slowed down his pace, purposely teasing you. Oh he wanted to pleasure you so bad, but not so easily… “You’re dripping all over my hand,” he noted, seductively whispering and kissing the shell of your ear, “I wonder how you taste…”

You squirmed at the sound of his words, your heart racing in anticipation as he kissed his way down your body again. Quicker this time, impatient to reach in between your legs. You threw your head back and moaned once his lips kissed your inner thigh and his mouth latched onto your core in no time; his tongue teasing your clit softly. He had you squirming and moaning – a complete mess under him in no time.

He kept his fingers inside you, moving ever so gently against your walls. Your body welcomed the foreign feeling. You felt his rough beard scratch in between your thighs but that was the least of your concerns, all you focused on was his mouth on you. Shamelessly eating you out like you were his favorite meal. His tongue licked up and down your slit, diving in and out of your wet folds, occasionally running over your opening where his fingers were snug inside you.

You moaned and reached down to grip his hair. You squirmed and whined and cried out. Your legs trembled in pleasure, and Bucky lifted one of them and placed it over his shoulders, eager to taste you even more, pushing your core further into his mouth and making you cry out of pleasure. His hands locked around your thighs as the lower half of his face pressed down into your wet heat; his lips drenched with your arousal.

“Hmm,” his hum reverberated inside you, making you squirm. “You taste heavenly, my little pearl.” He whispered and placed a loud kiss right on your clit before getting back to eating you out like a madman again.

Your eyes were shut, but you imagine he must be quite the sight. Big and broad and muscular, knelt in between your legs, his face pushed in between your hips as he took your higher… and higher. A couple more strokes of his tongue and your moans got louder and louder, a strange but sweet pressure forming in your lower regions.

“Let go sweetheart, cum for me.” He mumbled. He had you coming in no time; gushing out all over his lips as he lapped up whatever you gave him. The wet sounds erupting whenever his mouth sucked on your sensitive clit were downright sinful. As the waves of euphoria washed over you, you felt him kissing his way up your body; leaving warm, wet kisses all over your skin until he reached your mouth again. Bucky kissed you deeply and his kiss was a little more rough and messy and demanding than earlier.

You were like a drug. And now that he had had a taste, he only wanted more. He needed more. Bucky pulled away from the kiss a few seconds later. Chest heaving, and recovering from your previous orgasm, you admired the man above you, as he lowered his pants, reached down and pulled out his cock; stroking it while he looked down into your eyes.

You lips parted in hunger. You wanted him so bad it hurt. Your walls clenched around nothing as you watched him stroke himself. His size both startled and excited you. You were both nervous and impatient to just have him in you already. Bucky leaned in again to press his forehead against yours again. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he mumbled, voice hoarse and gruff as he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“You okay, my love?” he asked again, breathless as your walls squeezed him violently. Fuck…

“Yeah…” you were just as needy as him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you buried your face into the crook of his neck as you felt his body flex against yours. His back muscles felt taut and firm under your touch and his hard chest pressed down into you.

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours. Slowly at first, testing and seeing if you could take it.

You moaned as your body welcomed him in, and Bucky got his answer.

He removed himself out of you entirely and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and dipped his head into the crook of your neck. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulder and muscular arm; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He slowed down occasionally, then picked up the pace again; making you lose your mind. Yes… yes…yes. All you knew was that you wanted him there, forever if you could.

You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

“I love you so much…” he mumbled against your skin. But you were unable to answer, all you did was moan and whimper and squirm as he pounded into you. Your legs trembled and he lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you.

Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any louder noises while he fucked you. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to give you his all.

He was sweet and caring as he handled your body, caressing you and kissing you, but he was also animalistic and wild at the same time. His kisses were passionate and deep. His touch was tantalizing, and he didn’t hold back as he made love to you. And you knew you could definitely get used to this. The now familiar pressure was back again, hot and burning. You got louder and so did he.

As he pulled away and looked down at you, you saw in his eyes, the determination, the hunger and the need; matching your own. “You’re all mine.” he whispered as he made you cum again around his cock for the first time that night. Your moans were wanton as your walls clenched around his cock. You felt him fill you up again, with his warm load shooting at your walls. “Mine.” he growled and collapsed into your arms.

At some point during the night, he took you again. This time he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips, your ass up in the air.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked again.

“Yes.” you replied almost immediately.

He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up just like he had earlier.

Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed his palm against your lower abdomen. He liked the wave of excitement which coursed through his veins each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you. He liked how he was the only one who would ever touch you like this, the only one who would own you like this, the only one who would ever fuck you like this.

You moaned at how wonderfully Bucky stretched you out and rammed his thick cock in and out of you rapidly. You felt your walls clench around him, and tightening around his thick member. The sounds leaving his lips were sinful more than anything. And it sent shivers down your spine. He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face lovingly.

He didn’t slow down as your walls clenched around him violently, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came; hard. Bucky fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt and how perfect you felt around him.

Unable to form coherent sentences, you moaned as you felt your release approaching. Your legs were shaking, and your body moved along with his perfectly. You wanted more of what he had to give. You craved him. A rush coursed through your veins as you felt your mind clouding with lust again. He growled under his breath, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him.

You came again, walls tightening around his length. He bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips to meet his thrust; chasing your release. Your body trembled under him as you came again. You noticed his irregular thrusts and the sound which left his lips; he came right after you; filling you up yet again.

After he was done, he fell limp into your arms, careful as to not crush you beneath his body weight.

He stayed like that for a while, and let you wrap your arms around him; with his head against your bare chest. He relished the feeling of being in your arms. Until he finally rolled over and pulled you into his side, tucking your head under his chin.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

---

Days went by in pure bliss.

“Do you miss it?” Bucky asked one night, as you laid your chest on his bare chest. Both of you worn out and tired after having made love to one another for hours.

You closed your eyes and sighed, pressing your face into his warm chest. His smell, his body heat, his soft touch – it was all pure heaven. You knew he was asking about the ocean.

“I do. But I miss it like one missed their childhood.” You explained further. “The nostalgia hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt. Take yourself for example, you will always miss your childhood; the freedom, the fun and the lack of responsibilities. Yet at the same time, now you’re grateful for what you have now and who you’ve become. You’re wiser and better and surrounded by people who love you.”

You tilted your head up and found him staring down at you, looking lovingly into your eyes. You spoke up again. “It’s the same for me. I will always miss it, I mean I was born there. But this is where I’m meant to be. With you, till my dying day.”

He rolled the two of you over and hovered above you. His long hair framing his face, making him look so handsome and angelic you could cry. “I love you.” he said, his bare body pressing down on you under the covers.

His body heat wrapped around you like a protective cocoon. “I love you more.”

-6 YEARS LATER-

You stood on the beach, not too far from home. You smiled as you looked around; right on this beach is where you and Bucky got married 6 years ago. It was a beautiful wedding, and the celebration even more so. You turned around and caught a glimpse of the grand fortress. Stone and concrete, sharp and rough edges but still radiating a sense of warmth and security – much like the man who had it built himself.

Your smile grew at the thought of your husband. In just six years, so much had changed. For the better.

Your little reverie was interrupted by the sound of giggles and shouts of excitement. You looked straight ahead and found your three kids running around and playing close to the water, paying little to no attention to the beautiful sunset behind them. Yes, they were human but very much skilled when it came to diving into the ocean. You often took them swimming, and they all amazed you by how well they could hold their breath under water for surprisingly a long time. They definitely got that from you. And Bucky was proud of that.

You sighed in content at the sight of your kids. They were everything to you and Bucky. Speaking of Bucky, he caught you by surprise by coming up to you and wrapping his strong arms around you from behind, nuzzling your neck.

“Hello, my love.” he mumbled against your skin. You giggled. All these years and his voice still made you weak in the knees.

“Hi.” You turned your head to the side and beamed at him. “How did the meeting go with the rest?” Bucky and his crew were planning another loot soon, and they’ve been busy preparing and discussing these past days.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his beard pricking your skin gently. But you had gotten used to the roughness of it, it was almost comforting now. “It was fine.” Bucky went on to give you some details about what they discussed.

Then you were both interrupted by the sound of your kids laughing and yelling in excitement. Apparently their sand castle was now complete, they’ve been working on it for hours. Bucky looked at them and a warm smile formed on his face.

“We should get these little monsters home and get them showered before dinner.” He smiled down at you. You chuckled.

“They won’t listen, and they won’t leave until their feet aren’t hurting from running around too much.” You knew your kids too well. “I’m afraid they’re just as stubborn as their father.” You added, teasing your husband.

He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking. “Are they now?” he leaned down to gently bite your partially exposed shoulder. You laughed, tipping your head back and resting it on his shoulder. He tightened his grip around you and looked down at you in pure and utter adoration and smiled. His wife, at last. The mother of his kids. Entirely his, finally.

Then as he often did, he got emotional just thinking about that night all those years ago, where he was foolish enough to think that letting you go was a good idea. He blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

You turned around in his arms and faced him. You reached up and cupped his face in your hands. “What for?”

Bucky looked down, seeing your bodies pressed together. He let out a dry chuckle. “I almost broke us apart forever that night.” he said and you knew exactly what he was talking about. “I didn’t realize I would be hurting you too. I was so stupid to even think that I would survive without you.”

He often brought it up, whenever he was sad or upset. Or when he’s had a little too much ale. He’s even cried in your arms like a child all night once when you brought it up casually. The guilt had diminished, but it was still there in him somewhere. But you had faith the one day it’ll be gone entirely. You were both working on it.

“It’s been years, Buck. Let it go. We’re here, aren’t we? We’re together and we have a family just like we always dreamt of. That’s all that matters.” You maintained his stare as you spoke. He nodded. “I love you.” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. You pulled away and smiled, “Besides, if it weren’t for my fit of rage that day, I would’ve never found the potion. So think of it this way, we had to drift apart for a while, and it happened for a reason.”

He smiled and leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “I love you so much it hurts.” He mumbled, making you giggle. Then a thought popped into his head out of nowhere. “I never asked you this, but when you found the potion, did you drink all of it?” he had always been curious about that.

You smiled faintly, remembering the day you found it. “No.” you answered, deep in thought. “I took some, and then I put the rest right back.”

“Why?” he was intrigued. He wondered how come this conversation never came up earlier in the past years.

You pulled away and looked up at him. “I was scared. I saw it and I wondered, what if in the next life the roles are reversed? What if you’re born in the ocean and I, on land?” you chuckled, although your eyes watered a little. “I wanted there to be hope for us even then. I… I can’t imagine not finding you in the next life. Or the one after that, and the one after that.” you chuckled again. “It scares me, when I think about what if our paths don’t cross in another life?” You let the single tear fall, which Bucky caught as it ran down your cheek. “Or what if we can’t be together like this again?”

Bucky felt a weight on his chest at the sight of another tear escaping your eye. You wiped this one away quickly yourself. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss you on the lips, a gentle, sweet kiss to remind you that he was right here and there was nothing for you to worry about.

“My little pearl…” he whispered softly as he pulled away from you. “All of you, your heart, your soul; you were made to be mine. Don’t you worry, I’ll find you in the next life as well. And the one after that, and the one after that.” His words earned him a teary smile from you. “I promise you, my love, I will always find you. And you will always end up being mine.”

You threw your arms around him tightly and pulled him in for a kiss. You felt him smile through the kiss which lightened up the mood a little. “And I promise to love you just the same each time.” You whispered against his lips.

Although neither one of you recalled the promise you made to each other that day on that beach; in each lifetime, you both kept your promises. Bucky kept his word, somehow he always ended up finding you. And you did the same, you loved him unconditionally each time. It didn’t matter when or where you met. Or how your story began or ended. All that mattered was that in the next life, and the one after that, and the one after that; you ended up together every single time.

Bucky had been right; you were made to be his. And him, yours.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #pirate!bucky #mermaid!reader #marvel #marvel au

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Text

Black - Chapter 10

Here's a chapter that was exceedingly fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :D

@legolasbadass I have officially tagged you in something, now, go back to writing 😂

Fandom: The Hobbit

Characters : Thorin x OC, the rest, special mention for Dwalin being a cutie

Words: 5,5 k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: blood, reference to bodily harm, reference to God, ALSO: I am a drama queen *shrug*

“I think you are being unreasonable.” Faith shook her head at him. “Who? Uncle?” Kíli sauntered up to them, bowing crisply to her and adding: “I came to check on you, but I see our own dragon is guarding you jealously.”

“Get dressed, woman, if that one is here, the others are not far behind.” Thorin grumbled and blocked the view of his much too curious nephew while Faith was huddled in the corner of her room, slipping into her chemise and an old rough spun dress she had found in the pile of clothes that were left to her.

Faith had to admit that Thorin might have been right when other dwarrows presented themselves as well in front of her door, “to check on her” as if she was as sickly kitten. “Dori sends me with tea.” Ori mumbled, holding a literal pot of tea in his gloved hands.

“That is ever so kind.” Faith smiled, pouring the rest of her wine back into the carafe and extending the mug to the sweet dwarrow hovering just outside her door. Apparently, there was indeed something unseemly about crossing the threshold of an unmarried woman as an unmarried man. She wondered if that would have been the same if the townspeople of her home had lived. As it was, she would never know, but there was something quite touching in the pile-up of dwarrows outside her room.

“Oh, you’re holding court like a real queen. What is uncle unreasonable about?” Kíli silenced the others by almost screaming.

“Mistress Faith was on her way to bed when you barged in like a fool.” Thorin muttered, obviously in a cantankerous mood.

“She was not, she was berating you!” Kíli replied petulantly. “I don’t think your uncle, the king, should be camped outside of my door.” Faith intervened with an explanation.

“Why don’t you just bolt the door?” The lad asked, scratching his head. When she explained that she couldn’t open the door on her own and that she didn’t like feeling locked in, he gave his uncle a short nod and shrugged: “In that case, uncle is not being unreasonable at all. Let me know if you want company, I can sit with you.”

Faith was speechless. “You are a guest, and we’ll keep you safe.” Kíli said with an easy smile.

“I am safe.” Faith protested. “You are now because you have uncle outside your door. And us.” Kíli winked at her with that youthful pride and confidence that made her heart swell. Oh, bless that kid, she thought, may the stars align for him and bring him endless happiness.

“There you are!” Dwalin came barrelling down the corridor. “Me?” She was taken aback and tiny bit startled.

“No, not you, Mistress. That oaf, the king.” Dwalin nodded to her with what might have been a smile, Faith was not entirely sure and conversed in low, murmured words with Thorin. Faith just sat and listened to the sound of it, weirdly calmed and comforted by the rough elegance of their very own, secret language.

“Mistress Faith? Ah, there comes Fíli.” Faith scrambled to her feet and curtsied for the heir to the throne who presented her with a small cake. “We apologise humbly for having led you astray and for risking your good name. And for annoying you about uncle, we didn’t tell mother everything, but she was not happy either way.” The prince laughed. Faith was impressed by how resolutely and soberly he admitted fault and tried to redress his potential missteps; she understood that their social life had been an unsteady and uncertain thing and that it had been a priority to make them valuable fighters rather than charming courtiers.

Nonetheless, she admired them for their light-hearted honesty as much as for their supposed prowess.

“You’ve given us sweets and now, we give you cake. That makes us friends, doesn’t it? Ah, I see Dori has sent his little brother with that disheartening brew of his.” Fíli declared, commenting casually on the scene he had stumbled upon. Amongst humans, this would have been a childish thing to say, Faith thought, but she realised that he extended an invitation to her, and she was thankful for it. As she was a stranger in their realm, the declaration of a bond between them would protect her, shield her, most probably keep her alive against all odds. It was easy to see them as children as they were the nephews of a man she called a friend, but their lives stretched far into the past and hopefully would extend into a distant future, and already, they knew more than she would ever learn.

With another curtsy, she acknowledged the gracious offer of his friendship and the privileges it brought. “Thank you, dear prince I would be honoured to accept both the cake and your good graces.” He gave her an answering bow that sealed the deal.

If they knew what scandalous actions she had been engaged in only moments ago, Faith thought, they would probably not be that courteous to her. The idea of losing their affection stung, which surprised her, but the idea of losing them, period, turned out to be utterly unbearable to her. Her mind shrank back from the mere thought as from an open, festering wound.

She had been alone most of her life, but the mere contemplation of never seeing the creatures in front of her again filled her with dread and a nameless pain that choked the light out of her heart. For their own people and their culture, they were young still and she couldn’t bear the thought of having such promising torches snuffed out before their time. Would that she could live another hundred years to see their mischief soften to quiet humour, to see them take wives and father children, to be their friend through the different stages of a dwarven life.

The limitations of her own body and life constricted her soul, crushing it to dust, and she wanted to rail against the injustice of being given a glimpse of perfection only to have it snatched away too soon by the ravage of time. No, she thought, she would be thankful to be granted that precious peek; she would be grateful to have known what others only dreamt of and she would treasure those memories and all she had seen until her eyes saw no more.

“Thank you ever so much.” Faith mumbled again, feeling the effects of the half-glass of wine she had drunk and wondering if the dwarrows could eat all the time. She had had more than her fill at the dinner, but she dutifully bit into her cake which was sweet and surprisingly moist.

“Do you like it?” Kíli asked eagerly. “It is like everything else of dwarven make I have experienced.” Faith grinned.

“Bulky, heavy and smelling kind of weird?” Thorin prompted, much to Faith’s chagrin; she had not noticed that he had finished his conversation with his friend. Maybe, she had been wrong and dwarven mischief never really abated, maybe, they just learned to hide their wicked humour under longer beards in time. “Beautiful, compact, and delicious.” She gave him a brazen look full of dancing sparks; she liked bandying words with Thorin almost as much as she liked being kissed by him.

“Delicious, ey?” Dwalin laughed, clapping his king on the shoulder, and promising to come back later to relieve Thorin in his guard-duties. Oh, this was absurd, Faith rolled her eyes, she didn’t need two prime fighters in front of her door.

She had trekked through wind and weather; she had tackled a man with a knife and had chased away another one; she could take care of herself. It seemed though as if Thorin had been mostly correct: if they had lingered in her room, someone would have come looking for them and she might have lost a name that was worth more in this settlement than it ever had before.

She was half a savage, she realised, unused to the social conventions and rules of a society. As a maiden, she should have waited for a husband to give up this most sacrosanct of female gifts, but she was past the marrying age, and she was not overly fond of the idea of dying a virgin.

It was highly improbable that she would ever be anything else than a concubine to anyone and much more believable that she’d end up taken by force…hence the armed king outside her door. He had saved her once from rape and violence, and Faith did not doubt that he would do it again without hesitating.

Until he left.

Looking at the young princes, Faith realised that she felt safe here. She had stopped looking over her shoulder and hence, had let down her guard too much; all these lovely people would go on a perilous journey, and she would be left to her own devices. Maybe, she would have to heed the king’s advice after all and learn to be demure and discreet again.

That would be a whole lot easier once his startling beauty was removed and she could breathe again without getting a whiff of that intoxicating smell. How far would he have to be removed for her to no longer feel tethered to his steps?

She would miss him. His presence had become solace and home to her, a place to rest, a warmth to sustain her, and she would feel more vulnerable with him gone than ever before. Oh, another painful thought she didn’t want to pursue in this moment.

“We should let you get to bed. Just scream if anything is the matter and enjoy the cake.” The youngsters ambled away in high spirits, mocking Ori and his teapot and squabbling about the last cake. She would miss them too; like everything she had experienced in this wondrous place, they were a curious blend of beauty – light, colour, and laughter – and strength – honour, courage, and faith. Yes, she could say that she was fond of them and that she would be looking forward to seeing them again; there was just no way to dislike their open-hearted…fierceness. They were striving towards a brighter future with such zeal and indefatigable energy that Faith was pulled along despite her own reservations.

“Can I offer you a piece, my king?” Faith sat down again on her side of the doorframe, offering the baked good to Thorin.

“Ah, yes, I won’t say “no” to that.” He nodded, breaking off a piece and shoving it into his mouth, crumbs raining down on his tunic which she brushed away casually, amused to find that the king had a sweet tooth. His hand closed around her wrist.

“I am sorry, Faith, this…it was a mess. I…” He sighed. “I want to do this right…”

Oh, how could she have forgotten? While she was obsessing about her own death as if she was a crone already, she had forgotten that he had seen decades more than her; the time for his retribution had come and, of course, he didn’t want more loose ends and false starts to burden him.

“I will make it right; I will…” His eyes had softened to a mesmerizing dark blue in the low light, intense and captivating.

Now that the fire in her veins had dulled into a sensuous warmth, a steady flow of earnest affection and deep longing, she could put aside the wounds her vanity had sustained and mumble: “Oh, you king of second chances, I am sure you will.”

“Have faith in me, sweet one, I will make good on my word.” – “I shall not be another burden on your shoulders, Thorin-king.” She protested softly, putting her hand lightly on top of his.

“You are not, neither are they.” He waved in the general direction in which his nephews had disappeared. “I will succeed where others have failed, because of all of you. I will bring you home: my sister, my nephews, my friends…you. I swear.”

The intensity of his gaze and of his determination sent shivers down Faith’s spine.

She was a woman without a history and, probably, without a future, but she could recognise the weight of his ancestors’ failures, of his people’s suffering, and of his own ambition bear down on him inexorably.

“Rest, sweet king, you have done me no wrong.” She reassured him. “Have I not?” His eyes narrowed, suspecting a subterfuge or a trick. “You are a stubborn but very honourable fool, and I am glad that you convinced me to come here.” She grinned.

“So, you like it here? You’ll like Erebor then. It’s full of gold.” He smiled. “You and your gold!” She laughed.

“It’s full of beautiful things.” He tried again. “It shall be, yeah.” She chuckled, bumping her shoulder gently into his.

“You…I wanted to say that I feel honoured that you’d…consider me for…” He nodded at the empty room behind her, which made her giggle again; he really was too upstanding to be real.

“You are the single most beautiful living thing I’ve ever beheld in my life. You’re kind, generous, and brave. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I see now that there are rules to be followed and I did not mean any disrespect.”

Thorin seemed to ponder her words for a while before nodding: “Yes, I guess that is true…I know that you are physically incapable of wilfully disrespecting anyone or anything almost, so no problem.”

“What are the rules, Thorin-king?” She had caught a glimmer in his eye that disquieted her considerably.

He looked purposefully away for a moment and then mumbled into his beard: “I’d court you and then…”

“What would you quarter me for? In that case, I do see why you think intercourse would be dangerous.” Faith hissed, aghast.

“Court you, not quarter you. Who do you think I am?” Thorin exclaimed, lowering his voice immediately.

“I am sorry that I do not have your sister’s supersonic hearing.” Faith grumbled, but she had to laugh when she saw his dumbfounded face. “Oh, Dís, she was born like that. It’s because she loves information that much. I call it information…”

He made a face.

“She sounds like a valuable councillor then, wouldn’t you say?” Faith teased him. “Kíli gets it from her, that wicked sense of humour and that…” His voice softened, “She has a fierce heart, my sister does, stay close to Dís, she’ll keep you safe.”

Faith believed him, but she wondered how he could be so sure.

“My sister loves me as I love her, you are my friend, you are her sons’ friend…She won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on the princess either.” Faith protested, flustered by the finality in his voice.

Thorin took her hand and murmured: “Can you do two things for me, please? One, go to bed, otherwise I will have to kiss you again and we have seen that it generally ends in…frustration; and two, promise that you’ll stay with Dís.”

Throwing a quick glance down the corridors, Faith stuck out her head of the doorframe and pressed a single, warm, lingering kiss on his stubborn mouth and whispered: “I swear to stick to the princess…and lay down my life if necessary for her protection.”

Mahal have mercy, Thorin thought, the two women he cared for most would try to die in protection of one another at the slightest provocation; they were both fiercely loyal and brave in their own way. Devoted and self-forgotten, Faith had no regard for her own fragile life that seemed to be entirely made up of service while Dís had ever been a pugnacious dwarrowdam who would not avoid a fight if she thought she could win. Dís always thought she could win. She was his sister, after all.

“Good night, king of kings.” She whispered, flipping one of his braids playfully over his shoulder and scrambling to get to her feet. Thorin watched her go, taking off her dress again as she went, and cursed himself for being such a fool.

As she slipped between the sheets though, Faith stiffened and cried out: “Wait a minute…what do you mean by court?”

It had taken some time for his words to sink in, but again, all her fatigue evaded her within a second.

“Well, courting gifts, braids, walking around with your hand in mine…more intrusive questions by my nephews, more teasing by my sister…” He enumerated and ticked off the fingers of his hand.

Marriage, Faith thought, that was what it all led up to. Courting led to weddings, in general, and she would not marry Thorin Oakenshield, king of the Longbeards, not if the almighty creator himself did not come down and grant her a life long enough to honour the bond she would enter into, and a blood worthy of his. Falling back hard into her pillow, she resisted the urge of burying her head in it and asphyxiating herself out of pure impatience and annoyance with the situation.

Then again, the idea of having his nephews and his sister, and ultimately of course him, around until her forever came, held such a sweet seduction that it tore her heart apart. The intensity of her longing made it very clear to her that she was reaching for forbidden fruit indeed. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling that started to swim and swirl in front of her eyes.

“Sleep, sweet one, tomorrow is another day. There will be time for you to decide if that is something you’d want.”

Oh, naturally, he would be a perfectly honourable man about that as well, Faith thought with something akin to disdain almost; while she fretted and fussed, he would offer his courtship and she would have the right to deny it.

Would he understand her reasons when she finally did reject his promise of tender and respectful advances? Or would he feel as miserably unsatisfied as she did now?

Again, she tried to remind herself of the fact that he did not care for her in that way. She had promised him her body and he was looking to find some justification for taking it; a man such as him would not simply despoil a woman because he felt like it, no, he would create the pretence of a mock courtship to explain why he had taken what he could never give back.

Time would tell. Time, her constant enemy, the shadow gnawing mercilessly on her hours in the sun, would decide if she ever got an answer to those questions.

“You can tell me sooner of course.” Thorin mumbled and she sat up in bed, her blanket a tangled mess around her legs.

“It is a discussion for another day, surely.” She replied calmly, falling back to hide her face and its expression from him.

“Are you very cross with me, Faith?” He asked then.

“Not in the least, Thorin.” She decided against a title, knowing that it would make him believe that she was indeed angry when, really, she was confused and considerably hurt by everything that had happened tonight and by the fears that swirled in her head and heart without surcease. “Good, I couldn’t bear to disappoint you as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Again, she shot up to stare at him in dumbfounded amazement. “I will do right by all of you.” He vowed anew and Faith wondered if he always took his own trespasses so seriously; of course, he would.

“Good night, Master Dwarf. I care for you, and you are beautiful.” She repeated the most important things of the evening, swallowing her rejection of his courtship and falling into a fitful sleep, constantly disturbed by her body that was as taut as a twisted piece of wire. Every time her thighs touched, a spark of pure agony shot through her limbs, a feeling she knew would subside but that made her intensely miserable, nonetheless.

“How’s the little lady?” Dwalin clunked down the corridor and was forced to sneak the last stretch so as not to awaken Faith.

Thorin loved his friend, but he would not tell him how he had spent the last hours listening to Faith mumble and moan in her sleep; more than once, she had whimpered his name and he had been sorely tempted to take off his clothes again and slip between the covers with her.

Somewhere between her body and the mattress lay heaven, he knew, and her soft groaning had worn out his soul and chafed his skin raw with desire.

“She’s not a little lady.” Thorin grumbled. No, Faith was fearless when it came to actual danger; despite her innate subservience and her sweet temper, she was a fierce woman he was honoured and happy to call his friend.

“You’re thinking about courting her, aren’t you?” – “If she’ll have me.” Thorin didn’t even try denying it.

Dwalin had his doubts about that; Faith seemed fond enough of their mutual friend, of their common king, but could she find that kind of love inside herself for someone who was not of her own race? Friendships were indiscriminate; they were based on mutual respect and understanding, but marriage followed a set of rules much stricter and more severe.

It was also probable that she’d die before him, but he was not exactly a young dwarf and they had years ahead of them that could be spent in happy union; if he lived, if she agreed. Did she know that? Would she want that?

“She’s very…kind.” Dwalin said carefully, for she had been nothing but nice to him despite the fact that even dwarrowdams had told him before that he looked like a raincloud pickled in vinegar and left to dry on a stony cliff. “She is.” Thorin agreed.

“What is with the door?” Dwalin then asked and nodded at the huddled form in the bed he could make out in the penumbra. “She can’t open it on her own.” Thorin explained and then, the epiphany hit him: he would not wait for his return or her joining him; he would start his tentative courting with the very basic gift of an appropriate door.

“I…I have something to do. Please do not turn around under any circumstance and tell Mistress Faith that I’ll find her as soon as I’m done.” Thorin spluttered hastily and, boots in hand, almost ran down the corridor in search of a carpenter.

He would have a door made that she could easily open and close herself, but he would make sure that it was sturdy, fashioning and applying the bolts himself. Would that this blasted wizard was around to help imbue the very slab of wood with spells for her protection. Yes, he would convince her of his deep affection for her in the only way he knew: hard work and presents.

Faith woke up to the broad back of Master Dwalin completely obscuring the doorframe.

“The king is…doing something and he’ll find you as soon as he has finished…doing whatever he is doing.” The dwarrow grunted as a reply to her cheery greeting.

Slipping back into her simple shift, Faith approached the stolid figure and tapped him on the shoulder. “Would you be so good as to let me out?” He shifted aside and let her pass, but as she took a step, he followed her.

“I’d rather keep an eye on you.” He muttered, a low, rumbling sound that she very much enjoyed. “You are a dear man, Master Dwalin.” She chirped and nodded slowly.

“Hmmm, me? Hmmm, thank you, Mistress Faith.”

If she had been a braver woman when it came to social conventions, Faith might have asked to hug him, but as it was, she didn’t dare presume. “You’re a funny little creature as well.” He chuckled after a moment which made her turn around in surprise.

“Where are we going?” He cocked his head. “First to get you some breakfast and then to the river, if that is agreeable to you.” She replied gently. As he was intent on shadowing her, she had to think of his well-being as much as he seemed to worry about hers; so, off to the kitchens they went in search of a fortifying meal for the big warrior.

While Dwalin was still munching noisily on his breakfast, Faith was already kneeling beside the river, digging her hands deep into the soil, and filtering out the clay in meticulous steps until she had a sizeable ball. Her guardian watched her work tirelessly, fascinated by her steady, soft movements. Thorin was right, he thought, she was a creature of mud.

Even though the king himself was, in this moment, hammering steel with ringing force, there was a parallel to be drawn between the rhythmic, almost dance-like movements both of them were performing to create something new. For one another, if Dwalin wasn’t very much mistaken.

“I’d ask the kitchens if you can use one of their ovens rather than the open fire of the furnace.” He commented when Faith started moulding and twisting her ball of clay into shapes. “It will be quicker and gentler on your creations.”

Faith nodded when a glint in the water caught her eye. A beautiful, iridescent pebble, smooth and shiny was sitting right next to a single coin. She knew not if it had been caught in the folds of her dress or if someone else had lost it in the river, but she took it to be a good omen for her sacrifice to find things so beautiful to add to her offering.

“Off to the kitchens we go again then, Master Dwalin.” She smiled, heaping her work into his broad palms and chuckling to herself as she watched him hold them carefully in his hands while he walked gingerly ahead of her. He was a dear fellow…and another soul to miss bitterly.

“Come quick, uncle.” Thorin looked up from the bolt he had been fitting on the wooden door meant for Faith’s room in surprise. “You have to see that.” Fíli, his nephew, his heir, was waving him along urgently and so he followed without taking the time to cross-examine the lad on the motivation for his peculiar behaviour.

As soon as they arrived at the side of his dear sister, Thorin could understand where the excitement came from. Faith was kneeling in front of a tree hugging the mountainside, laying out the earthen dishes she had made with her own hands this morning.

“Uncle.” Kíli yelped, just arriving, upon seeing Faith pull out a knife and slashing open her arm once again, letting her blood drip into one of the shallow vessels slowly. “Let her be.” Thorin muttered, closing his hand around his nephew’s wrist to restrain him.

“I come to you, oh great creator, guide of my steps, in prayer.” Faith started, touching her forehead to the ground.

“But, I come not for myself. I come to pray for the safe passage and blessed return of Thorin Oakenshield and his company.” Again, she bowed down, then lifting her bloodied hands to the sky and pleading:

“You who have many faces, allow me to address those I have known all my life without ever speaking their name. I have been told that the one Thorin calls Mahal and we may call “crafting face of the creator” has hewn the dwarrows from stone. Oh, father of all, remember those you gave life to and show them mercy once again. Oh, stone remember who you once cradled and mellow your bosom for them. May their steps tread safely on you and may you open your womb once again to give them refuge.”

Faith touched one of her dishes in which a single coin and an iridescent river pebble lay.

“Let not the fashioner of evil unmake your gift of strength and beauty to this world. For this, I pray.”

She turned to the second dish, containing seeds and herbs she had picked, offerings covered in mud and earth still.

“Oh, great creator, I cry to the part of you that is warm and motherly, to the face Thorin calls Yavanna under his breath. They are not made of stone; they are born, and they grow. May the protection of the mother fall upon them, the defence of all things that grow and thrive. Let the world I have cherished welcome them freely, oh great creator, oh manyfold God. May the rivers run smooth, and the trees grant them shade. Oh, earth you who have been my mother, hide their steps from foes and bear fruit to sustain them. I beg for this as a friend of all things living, may they be recognised by bird and beast, by heart and soul alive, for what they are: living, breathing, feeling creatures of this earth. Do not let them walk alone. For this, I pray.”

Finally, she lifted her own blood and poured it onto the soil in front of her.

“I am but a measly creature, a single life, but I understand that whatever blessing I might have known has had a purpose. I am a vessel and here, I surrender the mercy I have been granted to this greatest of kings. Take this blood into your bosom and see the flaws within it! May my life and the life of my kin be a cenotaph to guilt that spans over generations!”

She touched her forehead to the ground again before going on:

“Oh, great creator, carry the wisdom I have paid in blood and tears forth; may there be a gracious and brave child for every stubborn, unhospitable father, may the sons and daughters save their elders by their generous deeds. For this, I pray.”

Faith stood up again, bowing to her offerings thrice before lifting the knife to her throat.

This time, even Thorin jerked, but she merely cut off a strand of her hair to let it fall in the blood-stained dish.

“As for myself, I vow service, as I have before. I shall work tirelessly; I shall dig my hands bloody in search of fertile earth and I shall make plants thrive in your honour. From the day their feet fall into the first step of this most perilous of journeys until the day I shall gaze upon your blessed people again, oh great creator, I shall walk and pray in devout industry, only ever lifting my eyes to the sky to check if I am called forth. I yield whatever grace was placed upon and within me to Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and whoever goes with him; I offer whatever strength I have to please you, oh great creator, in all your glory.”

Faith was about to turn away when she fell onto her knees again, her head pressed against the blood-drenched soil, sobbing in a low voice: “Oh, I plead with you, oh glorious, almighty, many-faced one, protect the one I call friend, the one who promised more than his body to me, bring him home safely even if I never get to see him again. Do not cut short the life of princes so valiant and honourable either. Take home the weary bones of old warriors and give fertile soil to the young ones to thrive. You are the maker of all things, of things that never change and of things that never stand still; honour their steadfast courage, eternal as the mountain, and their beating hearts, ever-changing as the seasons.”

Remembering the excellent hearing of the dwarrows, Faith lowered her voice to a whisper as she finished: “For I love them, dearly, desperately, endlessly. May the love of a mere mortal be guide, shield, and sword to them. I ask for nothing for myself, not an ounce of comfort, not a single blessing, heed my love for it is my only need in this life! I beg of you, I’d give everything for you to hear me…for this I pray.”

She bowed one last time, pulled down her sleeve and turned around to see Thorin staring at her with unfathomable eyes.

And then, the pain engulfed her, and she collapsed at the same time as Thorin broke into an impressive sprint for a boulder.

#fanfiction #thorin oakenshield #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #prayer #the aftermath of almost sex #nice chapter to write #overly dramatic

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coffeeman777 · 3 years ago

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Romans 5

"1 So now, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith in His promises, we can have real peace with Him because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. 2 For because of our faith, He has brought us into this place of highest privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to actually becoming all that God has had in mind for us to be.

"3 We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us—they help us learn to be patient. 4 And patience develops strength of character in us and helps us trust God more each time we use it until finally our hope and faith are strong and steady. 5 Then, when that happens, we are able to hold our heads high no matter what happens and know that all is well, for we know how dearly God loves us, and we feel this warm love everywhere within us because God has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with His love.

"6 When we were utterly helpless, with no way of escape, Christ came at just the right time and died for us sinners who had no use for Him. 7 Even if we were good, we really wouldn’t expect anyone to die for us, though, of course, that might be barely possible. 8 But God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. 9 And since by His blood He did all this for us as sinners, how much more will He do for us now that He has declared us not guilty? Now He will save us from all of God’s wrath to come. 10 And since, when we were His enemies, we were brought back to God by the death of His Son, what blessings He must have for us now that we are His friends and He is living within us!

"11 Now we rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God—all because of what our Lord Jesus Christ has done in dying for our sins—making us friends of God.

"12 When Adam sinned, sin entered the entire human race. His sin spread death throughout all the world, so everything began to grow old and die, for all sinned. 13 We know that it was Adam’s sin that caused this because although, of course, people were sinning from the time of Adam until Moses, God did not in those days judge them guilty of death for breaking His laws—because He had not yet given His laws to them nor told them what He wanted them to do. 14 So when their bodies died it was not for their own sins since they themselves had never disobeyed God’s special law against eating the forbidden fruit, as Adam had.

"What a contrast between Adam and Christ who was yet to come! 15 And what a difference between man’s sin and God’s forgiveness!

"For this one man, Adam, brought death to many through his sin. But this one man, Jesus Christ, brought forgiveness to many through God’s mercy. 16 Adam’s one sin brought the penalty of death to many, while Christ freely takes away many sins and gives glorious life instead. 17 The sin of this one man, Adam, caused death to be king over all, but all who will take God’s gift of forgiveness and acquittal are kings of life because of this one man, Jesus Christ. 18 Yes, Adam’s sin brought punishment to all, but Christ’s righteousness makes men right with God, so that they can live. 19 Adam caused many to be sinners because he disobeyed God, and Christ caused many to be made acceptable to God because He obeyed.

"20 The Ten Commandments were given so that all could see the extent of their failure to obey God’s laws. But the more we see our sinfulness, the more we see God’s abounding grace forgiving us. 21 Before, sin ruled over all men and brought them to death, but now God’s kindness rules instead, giving us right standing with God and resulting in eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."

#Romans 5 #Bible #Scripture #christianity #jesus #truth

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thelordstears · 3 years ago

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I think it’s time to show some lines and how much I’ve improved eh?

“ You see, we're all living our lives confined in this little, locked room, we store our thoughts here, our dreams, our doubts, our darkest confessions. But the right people come along with a key and find the real us quivering in a corner of ourselves we fear with all our fuckin' might. All of humanity fears. And so in the span of a blink life created death to separate what is bad, and what is good. “ - Shawn Werdelstein

“ I look deep into my eyes and I swear I can see her darkness flickering in my damn eyes, she took my heart in her murderous stride, flaying me of all my salvation, tellin' me I was nothin' more then livestock on her farm of delicacies and delights. “ - Lupin Rinderez

“In the end I was never really human in the eyes of those who hate me, was I? I was always a toy to those more wicked then I, and so I have rotted in a chest of forgotten dolls and stitched together souls lost to time." - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Some men are born for prison. They're raised in a cell, and told this is all you can ever be, and when they finally scratch their way out of that prison, they start to get homesick, so they find themselves a new cell, a new Hell, a new home away from home. Chaos is peace ta the broken man. “ - Francis Killvawhile

“ Karma doesn't care about how small the sin was, she just reaps. “ - Scarla Scottaine

“ There's something foreign about an empty bed, something unfamiliar about holding my own hand, it's like love is a language we speak, and when it leaves us we can no longer speak the language of the loveless, because we're already native in the country of love. “ - Finn Desandra

“ The darkness of my past caught up to me and killed the kind pure hearted man I thought I'd forever be, I was always doomed to become a reflection of my father. But with these bloodied and cracked pieces of me I'll bleed him with broken pieces of his reflection. “ - Alviro Conritz

“Isn't it funny? How men and women alike will pull a trigger on another when faced with a gun at their own heart, held steady in the hand of a man who never misses?” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I am Eve luring Adam to his fate.” - Belle Nalroma

“ I am a grave of fireflies and ravens whom head out to war, a wolf of death and anguish that drove me to madness. Don't you call me a freak, I'm just a little bit different, my mind is an eternal state of flickering emotion and madness that has never left me be. In truth the firing of this rifle is the only thing that keeps me alive, it is the beating of my heart and the howl in my soul, so dare you fire back with pieces of your heart shattered in the bullets? “ - Luther Woolhaun

“ I feel like a blank slate that's always re-written. “ - Wendell Ace

"I look at who I am with judgmental eyes.” - Earl Mumford

“ Believe the tales of dead men, they have a perspective like no other. “ - Earl Mumford

“ Stepping up to me ain't a fucking war, it's an execution disguised as such. “ - Saul Northutt

“ Decaying and gentle I shall be lain to rest as the Devil the world mourned. “ - Jonkiv Kramteil

“ Look, the truth is a hard pill to swallow, but swallow it you will. “ - Simon Rossburg

“ I'm a killer and a cheat, if my dagger is unstained remember, there's etches of lives lost on the handle, do you really wanna become another scar on the wood of my blade? “ - Killgrove Butcher

“ Mercy is a surefire way to meet God, so I sling an old club wrapped in barbed wire over my shoulder and watch the river spill crimson. “ - Olivia Juarez

"They call kindness weakness, so I must be the strongest bitch in town.” - Olivia Juarez

“ My wrath comes down like a cold rain of daggers when faced with the wicked, if they ain't ready to die then they best fucking prepare for it, cause those who use the powerless as a simple stepping stone to Heaven don't deserve the breath in their damn lungs. “ - Lucille Ramaswami

“ That man, that wicked fuckin' man, 'e's an old vulture sittin' atop the Church waitin' for the holy ta fall down the steeple, 'e swoops down and picks their bones 'a love, 'a holiness, 'a morality. And den, the holy become the damned. “ - Maxwell Soderstrom

“ The Devils and snakes in the grass should fear the gardener with his shovel ready to bury the pests." - Guarva Plucker

“ Don't call me your hero, cause heroes don't kill good men." - Al Hunderson

"Brother, there's somethin' sinister brewin' in the bones of humanity, has been since the Neanderthals huddled in caves, lighting fires underneath the murky walls of a place they could call home. I'm afraid you're gonna have to be a little more specific." - Roman Hemlock "Ya can always spot the little, tinges of darkness in the bad man's eye, the little seams of pain that follows 'em." - Sandro Colorfeid

"I slither and slide into the darkness, a basilisk hiding in shadow and sin, biting into the forbidden fruit of Eden with glee and cruelty flickering in my snake likes eyes." - Vexine Hatchet

"I stood with blood on my hands and a snarl on my lip. It was from that moment on, Nico no longer were." - Nico Litchenfels

“ I'm a cutthroat fucker with his heart bared open and cruel on his trench jacket's sleeve. “ - Nico Litchenfels

"I stood like a question never asked, and then before I had the chance to give myself an answer in the echoes of my insanity, she smiled and asked who I was." - Zachariah Rinderez

"I have died a thousand times, Minerva. But you make me want to live again." - Simon Drogace

"I'm not lucky enough to be me." - Simon Drogace

“Do you ever feel like, your mind is a hammer?” - Simon Drogace

"He stood there, like a wicked omen of what never should've been, a testament to all humanity tried to kill." - Neal Marrows

"Losing yourself is a game no one can win." - Neal Marrows

"You know me, just a grave of who I was, grasping the soil wondering why it always slips between my fingers." - Sam Dellwotfire

"Someone once asked me what life before war was like, and truthfully, I've never known." - Hunter Creasey

"You spend your whole life under the shadow of death it starts to become you, and as you let the light it in, as you let your heart burst in seams of color and little figments of love and joy, that's when the shadow casts itself over you the longest. As soon as you start to live, death comes on by to greet you as if she were an old friend, and as I live through the essence of love and peace, I can see a smile filled with the lost lives of all whom ever walked greeting me on a road all too familiar." - Hunter Creasey

"I'm the mad man's greatest friend, but in the eyes of the sane, in the eyes of all whom stand against cruelty, I'm a weapon, an atomic bomb that'll level the city of peace to dust." - Moores Thomas

"It is in madness and grief we find who we really are. So who's to say humanity was supposed to live in peace? After all, even our mind tells us things we could never dream of with intrusive thoughts, and in the end some of us succumb to the darkness every single mind brews." - Moores Thomas

"You see, madness starts with a small seed the human race calls trouble, it comes in many different variants, some get in very small dosages all their lives. But mad men get a taste of trouble long before they know what the word means." - Moores Thomas

"The way I see love, it's an interesting sort of medicine. One moment it stitches together the loose threads of your heart, and in the very next it unravels you like a spool of thread." - Cornelius Combs

"I walked into the Church only to be spat out, falling down the sinner's steeple coughing up bloodied pieces of my faith." - Takizen Fruivein

"Challenging what I've become is a fools game, and my friend, I am no fool." - Allinza Harzvi

"Humanity is not inherently kind, everything we've seen, and everything we are, is proof of that testament." - Allinza Harzvi

"We are never in the same boat, we are in the same storm, facing life's darkness with different privilege's." - Caldvain Lucelo

"You know, someone once told me you have control over your own mind, but as it drifts away from me as smoke in the dying embers of a midnight wildfire, does that statement still hold true?" - Harvin Scoviney

"God does not help. He observes." - Victor Da Ville

“ You can't explain what evil means without mentioning the feared name of Cassidy Vanderberg. “ - Cassidy Vanderberg

“ I'm a hero, and I know, it's a heroes curse to go down in history, shooting her glory through the chamber of a revolver, leaving the world with the gunfire smoke of her gun, but so be it man, so fucking be it. “ - Miella Fang

“ Tragedy runs through my veins like the blood I bleed.” - Harkman Burtrow

“ You can run your hands through these cracked and yellowed pages, wondering when I lost my mind, but you won't find any answers in my chapters. “ - Mortelo Vonenwoft

“ ”You ever feel there’s jus’ this empty box where your heart’s supposed ta be? I've shoved all my monsters in this box, my addictions, my anxiety, the thoughts that don't go away. But sometimes, the box starts ta open, and I can't even push the door back, cause I'm too busy with this ghost followin' me like a yappin' chihuahua. “ - Isadore Rast

“ Everyone is always sayin' you're strong, for fightin' past that hurt, but am I? I didn't fight, I fuckin' stumbled, I fell, it wasn't just a battle, it was a god damn war I still wage. The gunfire echoes and cocaine ghosts will never leave me be, cause I made the mistake of losin' myself ta the bad side of life, and I just can't forgive myself for that kinda shit. “ - Isadore Rast

“ I'm not a recoverin' addict, I'm just a fuckin' ghost. “ - Carrigan Hopva

“ I met myself on a dead end street, she looked distraught, with chunks of hair missing, cigarette on her lip, trying to light a match in the rain, eyes troubled with memories of what would be. She told me to keep my enemies close, cause god damn, they were everywhere, but she never told me I'd be standin' in a house of mirrors. “ - Rain Morvosina

“ I tell myself, I could've done better, I could've saved the circus, but truthfully, not a single man can stop fate in its tracks, he would become another splatter on her railroad within a series of seconds and terrible events. “ - Bortosley Velltwo

“ I'm guilty ‘a first degree, of lil ol' me." - Howard Wraith

“ Oh mum if ya could see me now, sinnin' on the other side 'a paradise lookin' for reasons ta stain me teeth the color of me jacket. “ - Davy Blight

“ I ain't the poor lil' boy who shot at 'is brother with orange capped revolvers and plastic swords, mate, I'm the real fuckin' deal. This venom 'a trouble and sin flows like blood in me veins, corruptin' the essence 'a who I fuckin' was. “ - Davy Blight

“ I'm the darkness your mother says ta stray away from, the boogeyman ya're mum tells ya snatches away naughty boys and girls in the dead 'a night, and worst of all mate, I'm Lind fuckin' Blight, bastard son of the seas. “ - Lind Blight

“ I'm just old honey whiskey sitting on the shelf gathering dust and mildew, locked in this little cabin of darkness and decay, wondering why no one cares to pop open my cork and let this darkness and mold spill to the soil of a freshly dug grave. “ - Roxane Vanderberg

“ I met her in a garden 'a roses, and there she stood as the only thorn. “ - Kayella Wisp

“ I've gunned bad men down on the streets, cackling and sinful they died, cruel and wicked they lived. “ - Hoshino Akinori

“ I once went into an old confession booth, sins sat heavy at my shoulder, salvation far off as it always seemed to be, and as that preacher listened to my darkest secrets I was sure he would damn me. But he told me salvation is for all, and that God loves whosoever follows the path of the righteous. “ - Erika Vans

“ I used ta live with one foot in the grave, wondering when the hell I'd become my last name, but then I met a wise man in the woods and found myself once again. Sometimes, we're lost, and we don't even know it. So I think destiny sends us a Messiah to lead the way ta who we are, and as Pennington took my hand in the darkness, I knew I'd found who I am past all this trouble. “ - Alonzo Graves

“ I traverse this labyrinth of my heart and soul, trying to find myself in the midst of all this trouble, but these mirrors are starting to look like enemies, and this maze is starting to become a prison cell. “ - Andre Jollows

“ Deep in my soul is the sound of war calling me home, and death whispers in my bones that she wishes to hold me close as I fade gently into the stars, but I sigh strapping my boots on in the morning, putting this old gas mask on my face and facing another venomous day. For I am a curse, wondering where my blessings went." - Max Caldiph

“ If my heart were a painting, it would be a starless night sky, the trees wilted, stripped of their leaves standing as threadbare omens of the bones etched in darkness that hold me up and the roses would be black, decaying with some dead scent of mercy burning whosoever walks into this garden of death's nose. “ - Apollos Quinn

“ Who I am ain't even me, he's just someone I've been for too long.” - Drew Dreadful

“ I died halfway to Heaven and too close ta Hell. “ - Dylan Huffers

“ I was living a life of trouble and cigarette smoke, chasing lies as if I were just a harmless little kitten, batting my hands at another yarn ball, always wondering why it ran away from me, but as my mother held me in a gentle embrace and showed me the way to paradise, I found out that it's better to be you then somebody else. “ - Scottie Bloodvallo

“ My mama once told me sometimes you gotta fall and stumble to learn who you are, because it's as trouble and peace wage war that we discover who's side we're on, and as those old foes grabbed their rifles and loaded their cannons, I came to realize I never wanted trouble to become who I am. So I picked up my guns and fired a couple rounds of peace into my head. “ - Marty Thievekit

“ You wanna run with the wolves, but brother you're sparrin' with chihuahuas, ya wanna play with the big boys, but you're frolicking in a garden full of gnomes and fairies, you wanna go knuckle to knuckle with your demons, but brother you surround yourself in angels. Do you really expect to kill a man while you're swingin' plastic blades and firin' bullets from a cap gun? “ - Walton Burke

"The truth will always sound like a lie to he who doesn't want to admit he's wrong. “ - Stewart Astoria

“ I'm tied up and tangled in the webs of madness, cackling at the midnight sky as these bastards try to fire bullets of sanity my way. But god damn baby, I'm bullet proof. I take what I want when I want it, so as I slam these bullets of madness into the echoed chamber of my revolver and put a few holes in my mind do you think it'll be me seepin' through the corners of this old mental ward, or will the ground pool crimson with my sanity? Guess there's no way of knowin' til I pull this trigger, sanity and purity spilling like crimson ink in my mind. “ - Ares Malstone

“ Forevermore I shall stand as a threadbare omen of the unholiest parts of mankind, drifting away from myself like the wildfire smoke of a dying confession.” - Alastair Sambridge

“ My mother once stared me dead in the eye and said I was not so holy, one day I would sputter up all the pieces of me and succumb to the Devil inside, and I must say, the old wicked witch was right. My father told me I was just a sin, drifting forevermore into the midnight sky, and as I pulled the trigger upon a battlefield I came to realize fate vows for promises made by wicked people. So by God, I vow to die, I vow to choke on these holy pieces of me and sputter up my dying breath. “ - Alastair Sambridge

“ Who I am is such a far cry from who I was, if you looked at a photograph of me at ten years old you wouldn't recognize the eyes that smile, for as you look into the cracked lenses and into my eyes, it is not me you find. But rather, it is the insanity that swam in Calzell's eyes when I met him." - Ackilzo Thyme

“ My mother once told me that rage whispers into the ears of the broken that they deserve nothing more then this unsteady heart beat of broken bottles and cracked knuckles, but it's the ever smiling lip of peace that brings the sorrowed man back to himself. So I oughta wonder why peace keeps on scowlin' at me. “ - Varvaina Escobar

“ It seems it is the nature of humanity to point blame at those who are howling with regret, love beating empty in an open chest. “ - Sarkelus Johnson

“ Sometimes, life just fades before your eyes and ya don't have enough time to catch it, so you slowly drift away from it yearning for the gentle touch of death. But you know what? We all need a hero every once and awhile, and as Barbara lays her head against my chest, dancing her fingers across my shoulders and cheek, I think I damn well found my hero. “ -Rob Percstand

“ I don't wanna die with dreams, I wanna die with memories, man. “ - Revie Scollinew

"In the outback of Montana my tale began in crimson stained history. I look to my aunts and uncles and see murder deep inside of their hearts, but they should've thought twice before taking my heart in their rough hands, for there is something dark that's brewing inside of me, and if I were them, I would start looking underneath the bed for monsters." - Enoch Avoxin

"There's a certain truth, to madness." - Zachariah Rinderez

"Hold honor close to your heart and you'll end its beat." - McKormick McReavey

"You know, everybody says, this won't happen to me, I'm just your average everyday person, collecting my paycheck, paying my bills, living my day to day life just like everybody else. But what we seem to forget is that we're all normal people, we're all just a little bit average enough to stand out. And when these tragic things do happen to us, we stand in a stunned silence our whole world falling apart, and all we can utter is, "This can't be happening to me." - Ray Burzfoll

"If I could strip the emotion from my mind I fear I would do so in a heart beat." - Wyatt Demouchett

"Love comes and goes but power drifts on by and stays." - Dastallio Sanchez

"Darkness has intertwined itself within my heart sputtering the light from out my throat." - Cornelius Shmackelstein

“I am not myself, so what the fuck am I?" - Coraiza Scotchfuel

"Living in reality is the most cruel form of torture for a mad man." - Draven Scotchfuel

"It is as if she makes my black and white heart burst with some form of color it's never seen." - Armello Vanrick

"Perhaps it was always a mirror hiding inside of my closet." - Julie Forkroad

"The world went dark before it fell, we were just playing a waiting game." - Brooke Bergmeir

"I've got more fighting days left than you have years." - Maximo Guanch

"If everything exists, nothing does, really." - Arthur Wellburn

#writing #characters #dialogue #characterdevelopment #oneliners #books #writer #characterwriting

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camxnoel-updates · 5 years ago

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Hardship happens fast, recovery is a slow process.

‘’Look, I’m an extremely private person. I generally shy away from sharing personal information, especially sensitive or vulnerable parts of my life. I feel like many actors are this way, opting to reveal their emotional centers through the lens of character and performance rather than in black and white. But I’ve got nothing but time during the Great Pause of our World, the corona days. I’m well aware my personal story is not a tale of hardship or woe even close to the level of a worldwide pandemic, but perhaps someone may hear my story and appreciate it.

A little over six months ago, I was playing soccer. A break up that led to an emotionally draining on-again-off-again relationship dynamic had finally ended for good a couple days prior. Perhaps this was why I was trying to distract myself so heavily with athletics. I can’t say for certain, but maybe I overworked and weakened my leg with constant running, jumping, twisting. I had played tennis earlier this particular Sunday morning, went for a run, and still felt restless. So I hopped into a pickup soccer match.

It’s incredible how quickly fortune can change; priorities shift in mere seconds. An instant can color the rest of your life. This is exactly what happened when I felt soccer cleats on the side of my shin and heard a loud, distinct crack coming from inside my body. My opponent had leaped onto the center of my lower leg in what I’ll phrase charitably as a rough tackle. I felt his foot pass through my body and knew it was broken before I even hit the deck. I looked down to see my leg at very odd and unnatural angles, being held together by my shin guard like a strip of duct tape strangling a bursting pipe.

One 911 call and several shots of fentanyl and morphine later, I was in the back of an ambulance calling the Shameless production office telling them they’re going to need to re-open the writer’s room and make some changes. I was genuinely more upset at this point about my work being affected than my own body. In my nearly twenty years of acting, I had never missed a day on set, no matter how deathly ill I had been. However, my sock and shoe had been snipped off by the paramedics by this point, and I was able to see that the only thing attaching the lower portion of my limb was some muscle and sinew. My foot and ankle had fully turned around 180 degrees and were now facing south. One of my bones poked and prodded under the surface of my skin, desperately trying to make a jailbreak. So I figured I might not be able to film that scene the next morning.

An x-ray revealed that both my tibia and fibula, two of the largest and slowest healing bones in the body, had snapped cleanly in half. By this point I had called some of the people closest to me. I can’t describe the relief I felt as my friends, my makeshift family, filtered in and out of the hospital room. The warmth and calm that washed over me at the site of their faces accomplished what all the opioids had failed to do. They brought clothes and toiletries, they told jokes, they held my hand.

It took three nurses holding me down and two doctors to twist my leg back around and wrench it into place. A few days later, they cut me open and installed a 16 inch titanium rod through the center of my bone, bolted securely into place. Few more days and I was released from the hospital. I stayed at my manager’s house and later with my angel of a coworker, Shanola Hampton, and her family.

And I gained some perspective. Of what it means to take things for granted. To be able to roll a garbage can to the curb, or pick up a napkin which has fallen to the ground, or hop out of bed without excruciating pain. Life is delicate, health is fragile, and we’re all a bunch of pressurized bags of squishy meat with very limited expiration dates.

To be able to leap and dance and roughhouse is so much of who I am. Up to this point, I had considered it integral to my identity, my fundamental personhood. Physical autonomy is a privilege most able-bodied people don’t even realize they have. And as I had mentioned before, I’m a very private person. Moreover, I view myself as extremely self-sufficient and self-reliant. And there was no worse vulnerability than having to lean on other people for help (sometimes literally.) Yet here I was in this situation, where basic chores and tasks were no longer accomplishable without my friends. My beautiful friends.

And it truly hit me. The importance of community. The value of being there for people when they need you, and of accepting support when you need it. No man is an island. Who we are is not only defined by what we do but also the people who we choose to fill our lives with. There’s nothing like a little suffering to boost your empathy. My injury wasn’t even that serious in the scheme of things, but I gained a greater appreciation for the people who stepped up for me during this time, and recognized some of the people who didn’t. Choose kindness, fill your life with people who value the right things.

I wish I could say that it was a linear line of positivity, progress, and healing from there. I wish I could say that I never relapsed, never felt bitter. Most days were good. But some days I wallowed in self-pity, I drank, I hated the misfortune with a bitter passion. The banality of not being able to do the things you want can ache with a boring dullness that stings far more than the initial hurt of the injury itself. But eventually I learned new ways to entertain myself, placed greater importance on other pursuits and shifted my priorities. I’m thankful for the last half of a year simply for opening my eyes to the obvious things I had been missing.

Now, six months of physical therapy and personal training and healthy living later, and I am almost fully recovered. Yesterday I walked for 5 miles, jogged up hills, even sprinted a few times. It still hurts a bit, but I’m almost fully back. And I have faith I’ll be completely on my feet (bad pun) in the next couple months.

I guess that’s why I wanted to share this story. The world is injured right now. People are hurting and dying in an exceptional and awful way, the economy is in bad shape, many people’s jobs are on the line. So much of the things we so easily took for granted are not currently available to us. I hope the Earth takes this time to shift its priorities, to understand the joys of simple things we cannot currently do like going to a restaurant with friends or hugging your relatives. I hope if people have the means, they can give to those suffering in some way. I hope we as a nation choose kindness, charity, and positivity during this period. I hope we don’t rush this or selfishly leave our homes when we shouldn’t. I hope we protect those most vulnerable.

Healing requires time, it demands patience. This all happened suddenly. But that’s the thing: Hardships happen fast, recovery is a slow process.’’

via Cameron Monaghan’s blog.

#wow!!#this made me cry #i love him sm #cameron monaghan #shameless #shameless us #star wars #jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order #cal kestis #gotham #jerome valeska #jeremiah valeska #mr j #the joker

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yhwhrulz · 1 year ago

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Wayside Chapel Daily Devotional 27th September 2023

September 27

Ephesians 2:6-7,10 6And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.

10For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Those who place their faith in Christ Jesus identify themselves with Him in His death, burial, resurrection and ascension. We are in Him, so when He suffered on the cross, our sinful nature was there dying His death. When we were baptized, we related His burial to the burial of our old nature. When we came up from the water, we related His resurrection to our new life in Him. He ascended victoriously to sit at the right hand of God, and yet He is with us always. We are seated with Him, in Him, with all the rights and privileges His victorious life merited, yet we are here working out our salvation with fear and trembling.

Why would God choose to take such fallen, wicked creatures and redeem and transform them, giving them such privilege and honor? In the ages to come He will show the incomparable riches of His grace that expressed itself in His kindness to us in Christ Jesus. In that day we will look at where we came from and clearly see our former depravity, and at the same time, see the finished work of Christ in us. We will be overwhelmed with a sense of the incomparable riches of His grace. We understand just a fraction of it now. Then it will cause us to fall on our knees in worship and praise.

It is all by grace. It has nothing to do with what we have done. There will be no boasting of any works when we are in heaven. We will be in awe of the poem He created with our rebellious lives. Every poem will be unique, and yet every one will cry, "Incomparable riches of His grace". Every good work He orchestrated, every good deed performed, will then be recognized as coordinated and empowered by God. Then we will finally realize the depth of Jesus saying, "Without Me, you can do nothing."

Consider: Are you relying on His power today?

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trickrydomain · 3 years ago

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Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, or Fredrick Brown.

TW ; family death, torture, brief descriptions of horror, PTSD

MONEY, FAME, POWER.

These three words might as well have been the de Rolo family motto. They were a long line of family money, each generation taking up a mantle that would further the family wealth.

Somewhere in the Nordic seas is the rather modest island of Whitestone, nearly sold away to a government that would have left the people of Whitestone homeless and jobless. Frederick and Johanna de Rolo, at the behest of a holy man on the island, purchased the island at a steep price, becoming the Lord and Lady. After helping the people build a sustainable economy, the two settled on Whitestone began a family.

The third of seven, Percy had the privilege of being one of the left-to-their-own-devices middle children. While he wouldn’t say he was loved less than the others, he would say his brother Julius received most of their parents’ attention due to him being the oldest. Which suited Percy just fine.

BEFORE THE BRIARWOODS.

With so many siblings to share responsibilities with, Percy was able to turn his attention more toward his interests. He had particular tastes for chemical and science, in engineering, and learning as much as he possibly could. He learned several dead languages on a whim, because he could.

He built several of what could only be called weapons - a sort of gun and rifle that were made by his hands and for his hands. Percy was hailed as a prodigy, absorbing available information and putting much of it to practical use.

THAT FATEFUL NIGHT.

On the cusp of eighteen, Percy had dyed his hair every color one could probably dye their hair, and had refined his weapons to the point they even fired - most of the time.

It wasn’t unusual for the de Rolos to receive esteemed guests, Whitestone being in the middle of several trade routes. Under the pretense of setting up a route with their family, Lord Sylas Briarwood and Lady Delilah Briarwood landed on their island, greeted warmly by all who lived there.

Percy’s parents threw their guests a banquet, and all the siblings were charged to attend. Not one to upset his parents, he put on his best and herded the younger siblings around until the feast began. The food was provided by Lord and Lady Briarwood, a gift for their hosts to hopefully earn good faith…

What Percy remembers next comes in flashes, the memories in whole blocked behind intense trauma his mind wishes not to relive. He remembers great pain, he remembers seeing as, one by one, his family’s lives were taken. He knows not why they seemed to savor his torment most, or why they left him alone as long as they did.

Unknown time passed, Percy losing more will as he was sure his death was approaching. Instead what came for him was the youngest de Rolo, his baby sister Cassandra. She rescued him, with her stoic face and brilliant mind. They made it out of the manor, and were making a break for the docks when shots rang out and Cassandra fell.

Not wanting to see the face of another dead sibling, Percy continued to run and made it on to a leaving fishing boat.

AFTER THE BRIARWOODS.

The boat took him to the nearest larger country, handing Percy safely in to hands of authority. A case was started against the Briarwoods, who weaved a story of their own as to what happened to the de Rolos, thinking all of them now dead. Made to wait, Percy was put in to protection where he was made to disappear.

He shaved his bleach damaged blue hair, which to his surprise, began to grow in white. His name was taken from him, though he managed to make them let him keep the name Fredrick, with whatever last name they wanted to give him.

Percy moved frequently, eventually finding his way to the United States, where he began University.

OTHER SURVIVORS.

Percy fell in with a tight group of friends, the eight of them coming to do most things together. His first friend was a redheaded woman, who charmed him with her love of plants and curiosity about his work. She introduced him to the twins Vex and Vax, one of which Percy took an immediate liking to.

He often found excuses to be around Vex, finding banter with her easy. She didn’t pry about his past, letting him live in the present which put him at ease around her. She didn’t want anything he wasn’t willing to give, leaving him hoping he could settle here and wouldn’t be moved again any time soon.

At least, that was his wish until a familiar face found her way to his campus. High school seniors flooding campus for a visit, it was just plain bad luck that Cassandra Briarwood was assigned to shadow Vex while on her tour.

FRIENDS.

VEX'AHLIA ; Percy makes small gifts for Vex whenever he has time. As first he did it as a way to buy her trust, but over time his affection grew and he just wanted to see her smile. She’s genuinely his favorite person and the only one he completely trusts.

VAX'ILDAN ; Percy wouldn’t say he and Vax have an antagonistic relationship, but they do tend to bicker more than most. Deep somewhere Percy isn’t comfortable thinking about it, Vax reminds him of his older brother that he lost.

GROG ; Grog is who Percy looks to for a good time. As an athlete, he seems to have an open invitation to parties around campus and knows where to get the best alcohol.

PIKE ; Percy is wary of Pike, wary of her seeming purity and her knowing eyes. He doesn’t want her to see him, see through him to the things he’s had to go through. They’re tenuious friends at best.

KEYLETH ; His first real friend in so long, Keyleth has a special place in Percy’s heart. She takes interest and sometimes helps with his projects, and he does so for her in return.

SCANLAN ; Scanlan brings out the very mischievious side of Percy. The zero braincell, split decision, adrenaline side Percy though he lost when he lost his home.

TARYON ; Tary is a new member of their small found family, but no less important. Tary and Percy have gone on for hours before about anything and everything from mechanical constructs to history to people.

SCHOOL.

Speaking as someone who isn’t well versed in higher education, I can only make this up as I go along, with input from those around me. I feel personally that Percy would have a Major in Engineering, and maybe history, with minors in latin and classic literature.

#✑ 004 — ᴀᴜ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ — Percy / TFC / College .

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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

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Hi love the blog! 💕💕 I know sometimes you all give us the BL fics from a fest so I wondered if you might give us a list of BL fics from this year’s Big Bang. I’ve read a few really good BL fics from it and I wondered if there were more. Thanks if you can!

There were fourteen BL fics from this year’s Big Bang. Enjoy!

1) (Summer Is Over) And I Wanna Leave You Satisfied | Mature | 25031 words

On the very last night of his summer break in London, Louis Tomlinson hooks up with a hot guy. When he gets back home, his roommates tell him that they're going to be getting a new roommate. Said roommate? The same hot guy he hooked up with back in London: Harry Styles, who's looking for a quiet place to go to school and just wants to keep his head down. Funny how he keeps getting noticed, though....

2) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

3) Love Will Light The Way | Explicit | 26730 words

Most people throughout Louis's life thought that dying brought you to one of two gates. Heaven or Hell. Really, it brought you to a dated diner, just outside of the suburbs, skirting the beginning of the city. Where, instead of God, you met Liam Payne and his post-it notes. Well, not for everyone, but for the select few whoever is in charge up there deemed fit to help guide the living into death. Unfortunate people like Louis. Who'd honestly rather just lie in bed and pretend it had all been a dream. A very bad, cliche dream. It wasn’t though and this was his new normal. As much as he hated it.

And Harry? He just wanted to know who the man was that kept killing his patients.

4) Compete Against The Stars | Mature | 30980 words

“We should probably keep our distance,” Harry says, now backing up until he’s leaning against the wall opposite of Louis. It already feels too far away. “I don’t know if I can handle not being able to touch you in some small way.”

Louis nods and looks down. “The solstice will be here soon,” he murmurs.

“And with it, our mates,” Harry finishes, his voice cracking at the last word.

5) The Space Between | Explicit | 33074 words

Living in East Verona was a privilege. One Prince Harry only found out when he decided to cross the borders into The Zone looking for entertainment, a temptation, a distraction, anything that would allow him to escape his boring, mundane life of luxury.

But what he found was something he never could have expected - poverty, destruction, chaos, but most importantly, a blue-eyed boy.

Together, they embark on a journey plagued with hazards and risks and twists and turns.

Can these two star-crossed souls fight for their freedom and keep each other safe at the same time?

6) Until | Explicit | 38204 words

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

7) Hit Me With Your Sweet Love | Explicit | 39690 words

Powerful people only end up with powerful people. The rest are just playthings in their lives. Louis Tomlinson was many things, but he wasn’t anybody’s plaything.

8) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

9) There's No Other Place | Explicit | 51638 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

The one where Harry offers his home for omega hybrid Louis in a world where his very existence is illegal. It was meant to be temporary, but as time goes on, neither of them want it to be. Too bad things are rarely that simple.

10) No Going Back | Explicit | 56102 words

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

11) What Are The Chances | Explicit | 63126 words

Louis Tomlinson is a single father, struggling to get by with no help from his ex. Harry Styles is a famous singer looking for a little normalcy in his life. What will happen when their two worlds collide in the most unexpected way possible?

12) Follow Your Arrow | Explicit | 78237 words

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

13) Mine Would Be You | Explicit | 114696 words

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

- BLP 🍑

#asks #fic recs #big bang

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deploybits · 3 years ago

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You are lucky some types of torture are legal, i now will have an anxiety attack looking at the sky

So here we are... The Ultima Weapon will almost certainly be housed in the depths of the complex. This is it, my friend! Gaius! Ah, Cid, my boy... You are late. There is something I always meant to tell you, yet the time never seemed right. It concerns your father. ...What of him? In the winter of his years, Midas came to abhor his part in Meteor. He told me that he wanted nothing more than to wash his hands of the whole sordid business. But he did not wash his hands of it. He helmed the project until the day it killed him! Come now, Cid... you must know that he did not have the luxury of choice. By the time he realized his error, it was too late. Meteor had him completely in its thrall. Shortly before his... transformation, mayhap sensing that something was amiss, your father confided to me all the regrets of his life. Most of them concerned you. Early on in your career, he realized that while you had a talent for devising armaments, it would never fulfil you. Long before you knew your own mind, he saw that you would be far happier using your knowledge for peaceful purposes, and the thought touched him. He was a changed man for it, though he could not let it show. You blew holes in this place just so you could say this to me!? What is it you want, Gaius!? I want you at my side, Cid. Take up your father’s mantle, and become the Empire’s lead engineer. It is your destiny. My father had a change of heart - you said so yourself! Besides, I have long known my destiny, and I assure you, it lies not with the Empire! A pity. And what of you, adventurer? Will you not consider making common cause with me? No? And I can expect no better answer than this? So be it. It was your strength that made me proffer my hand in friendship, and it is your strength that makes me proffer now my blade. Save as an ally, you are too dangerous to be let to remain. Run, Cid. Or stay. It makes no matter. You cannot escape the past. Gaius, wait! ...Damn it! Knowing Gaius, he is headed for the Ultima Weapon. If we find him, so too will we find our quarry. With these instruments, we can monitor every nook and cranny in the castrum. I think it’s time we divided our forces. Pray go on and give chase. I’ll track your movements from here and guide you through the complex. We’ll stay in contact via linkpearl. Be careful, all right? Ah, there she is! I trust you recognize our old friend. “Maggie,” was it? They must have shipped her here from Centri. Considering all she’s been through, it’s a wonder she’s still operational. Tough old girl! Now that you’re suitably armed, you can blast open that bulkhead. The external walkway will take you back there. Follow it till you come upon a way down to the lower level. That bulkhead is composed of a special alloy. Extremely tough. Ordinary fire won’t leave a mark, I’m afraid. You’ll need to divert all power to the magitek cannon, as I did so memorably once before. As you may recall, the armor’s core is like to expire from the strain, but there’s no help for it if we want to press on. Now, listen well. Press...<buzzzzzz>...the control...<fizzzzzz>...engage ancillary...then fire away. Don’t mind the warning lights. You’re a natural at this! All right, the way’s clear, but it’s just you and your own two feet now, so be careful. You have been leaving a fine mess in your wake, adventurer. Is someone there!? Garlond, old friend. How it warms the heart to hear your voice again after all these years. ...Nero? Is that you!? You sound well. It would seem this savage land agrees with you. The highest ranking tribunus of the XIVth... It was you all this time? Tell me, Garlond. How long do you intend to keep all the glory for yourself? Uh...what? You’ve lost me. Don’t play the fool with me. Ever since the Academy, I have been condemned to live in your shadow. By all objective measure, I was the more talented of the two of us, yet that fate counted for naught beside your privileged birth. You were admired as the young prodigy simply because your father was the great Midas nan Garlond! When you defected, I felt sure my star would finally rise... But by disappearing, you acquired the status of a legend - your reputed genius gaining credence merely by dint of your absence! Instead of cursing you for a traitor, the people actually came to think of you more fondly! To this day, you are still the young prodigy of magitek! I, meanwhile, have ever been made to feel second-rate - I who have continued to serve our nation faithfully. Whenever I fail to excel - why, it is only to be expected! Yet when I exceed all reasonable expectations, people proclaim that I walk in the footsteps of the great Cid nan bloody Garlond! Nero, I... I don’t know what to say. It matters not a whit what I achieve. Your existence has rendered mine worthless. Even Lord van Baelsar saw fit to offer you a place at his side - and this in spite of your betrayal! Did he extend any such offer to me - the man who has remained loyal to him for all these years? Why, no. He did not. Long have I endured this injustice...but no more. Lord van Baelsar is in the midst of activating the fully powered Ultima Weapon. It is my magnum opus - the creation that will win me the recognition I am due. I will not let anyone interfere. Nero! What are you-!? Ever since I first set foot in this benighted land, I have watched you - ever move you have made, every step you have taken. You have felled eikons, a feat made possible by the Echo, a peculiar power which shields you from their corrupting influence. It is of little wonder that my lord has taken an interest in you. As have I, if truth be told. It is my desire to harness your power for use in the Ultima Weapon. Should I succeed, Lord van Baelsar will surely take notice! Beside this, Garlond’s achievements will be as child’s play! Come, adventurer, and yield to me the secrets of your power! This changes...nothing... Ahahahaha! The Ultima Weapon is activated, and it brims with the power of eikons! Nothing can withstand its might! Are you all right!? What of Nero!? ...Fled!? Damn it! In the instant prior to the blackout, the instruments detected a massive power surge from the deepest chamber. Gaius is certain to be there! We have no time to waste! Word arrived from the Alliance a short while ago. It seems the Order of the Twin Adder has completed its blockade of Castrum Centri. What hands they can spare are hastening this way even as we speak, and likewise for the Maelstrom. All that’s left is to destroy the Ultima Weapon! ...I should warn you: the chamber which houses the target appears to be saturated with aetheric energies. There’s bound to be heavy interference. But even if we lose contact, you must go on. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, all right? Look for the lift’s control panel - it’ll be somewhere nearby. Take the lift down, and you should find yourself in the chamber of the Ultima Weapon. Keep your eyes peeled - Gaius could be waiting for you down there. Oh, and don’t even think about dying. You’re too bloody useful! The interference is getting worse. I don’t think the connection will last much - Tell me...for whom do you fight? Hmph! How very glib. And do you believe in Eorzea? Eorzea’s unity is forged of falsehoods. Its city-states are built on deceit. And its faith is an instrument of deception. It is naught but a cobweb of lies. To believe in Eorzea is to believe in nothing. In Eorzea, the beast tribes often summon gods to fight in their stead - though your comrades only rarely respond in kind. Which is strange, is it not? Are the “Twelve” otherwise engaged? I was given to understand they were your protectors. If you truly believe them your guardians, why do you not repeat the trick that served you so well at Carteneau, and call them down? They will answer - so long as you lavish them with crystals and gorge them on aether. Your gods are no different from those of the beasts - eikons every one. Accept but this, and you will see how Eorzea’s faith is bleeding the land dry. Nor is this unknown to your masters. Which prompts the question: why do they cling to these false deities? What drives even men of learning - even the great Louisoix - to grovel at their feet? The answer? Your masters lack the strength to do otherwise! For the world of man to mean anything, man must own the world. To this end, he hath fought ever to raise himself through conflict - to grow rich through conquest. And when the dust of battle settles, it is ever the strong who dictate the fate of the weak. Knowing this, but a single path is open to the impotent ruler - that of false worship. A path which leads to enervation and death. Only a man of power can rightly steer the course of civilization. And in this land of creeping mendacity, that one truth will prove its salvation. Come, champion of Eorzea, face me! Your defeat shall serve as proof of my readiness to rule! It is only right that I should take your realm. For none among you has the power to stop me! I had not thought to be so hard-pressed. Your strength is...most impressive. Such power befits a ruler! Yet you lack the resolve to put it to proper use. A waste. Allow me, then, hero, to do that which you will not! Bear witness to the true power of the Ultima Weapon! But the Ultima Weapon is all-powerful! Why does my enemy still stand!? Can her strength truly be so great? It is the blessing of Light that confounds you. Lahabrea. Your foe acts under the protection of the Crystal she bears. So, this is what empowers her. Beyond mortal limits. If you are to prevail, the hammer of Darkness must needs be brought to bear upon the shield of Light. And so it shall, for the Ultima Weapon is host to a power of which you are as yet ignorant. Speak plainly, Ascian. The Heart of Sabik. It is the Weapon’s core - an enigma whose surface even the vaunted scholars of ancient Allag failed to scratch. The magic within has lain dormant for eons. Of what magic do you speak? A spell without parallel. Ultima. I sought the life force of the primals for no other reason but to quicken the core. For the true power of the Ultima Weapon lies within its now-beating Heart! Lahabrea... What have you done? No more than was necessary...for my god to be reborn. Damn you, Ascian! The hour is at hand! Behold but a sliver of my god’s power! And from the deepest pit of the seven hells to the very pinnacle of the heavens, the world shall tremble! Unleash Ultima! Ahahahahahaha! Such devastation... This was not my intention... Oh, Hydaelyn...it seems the task of keeping your champion alive has exhausted what strength you had left. Van Baelsar... Your enemy’s shield is broken. The rest I leave to you. We will speak later, Ascian. But first, I must deal with you. The question of who is mightier remains! Come, adventurer! Let us find the answer together! No... No, no, NO! Uh! Heed me... The subjects of a weak ruler must needs look to a higher power for providence... and their dependence comes at a cost to the realm. The misguided elevate the frail... And the frail lead the people astray. Unless a man of power wrests control...the cycle will never be broken. You... You of all people must see the truth in this. You who have the strength to rule... Pathetic. You boasted of unrivaled power. You were entrusted with the ultimate weapon. The ultimate magic! And still you failed. So much for the glory of man. The growing imbalance afflicting the planet must be redressed. If it is permitted to worsen, the very laws of existence - both aetheric and physical - will be warped beyond all recognition. Know you the root of this corruption? Hydaelyn! Like a parasite, she must be burned out if the planet is to recover. And naught but the return of the one true god will ensure her complete excision. Yet to pave the way for the master’s return, a chaotic confluence of untold proportions must needs be brought about. And that will necessitate the presence of the primals. needless to say, both you and your Scion accomplices can not be suffered to interfere in this endeavor. You will not leave this place alive. It is past time your flame was extinguished...“Bringer of Light.” If thou wouldst pierce the shadows...make thee a blade of Light. What!? The Light...it binds them... They are too many!

Aaaaaaaaarrrgh!!!

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Eyes Part 27

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 27: Ella and Alfie discuss their potential family. At Lizzie’s party, Ella grows exhausted by her brother’s lack of common sense.

“Crucified, Ada. Fucking strung up on a bloody cross and shot.” Ella was smoking on the front steps of Midland with her sister. “It’s all going to shit. Tommy’s gone mad.”

“It’ll be okay.” Ada tried to assure her. She wanted to have faith in their brother. Wanted to believe that he could crush the fascist movement. If there was a man to do it, then Tommy Shelby was the one.

“Mosley is trying to get to my fucking husband. I swear to God if anything happens to Alfie…”

Ada hushed her as their sister-in-law came out. “We’re here to take you to the clinic.” She stopped Gina.

Ella took the woman in. She was beautiful, and no doubt that was what drew Michael to her in the first place. Dressed smartly, she looked like a movie star. “Nice to meet you, sister.” She said and flicked her cigarette to the sidewalk.

Gina didn’t appear pleased. “I already told Michael, my husband or no one.”

Ella frowned. The retort put her off almost instantly. “Well, Michael’s not here and we’ve got a car.”

“There are taxis, even in this fucking city.”

She scoffed. “This city? Our family owns this city, so you might as well give it some respect.” Sure, Birmingham had some bad memories and maybe Ella preferred London or Margate. But she highly disliked Gina’s tone when talking about Small Heath.

Ada stepped in before Ella got nasty. “Look, if they don’t hear a heartbeat, they’re going to give you options, none of which are nice.”

Gina didn’t listen to her appeal. “My husband may do as he told but I don’t.”

Ella’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you should be a little more accommodating to your new family?” She spoke tersely. “We’ve come as support.”

“I don’t need support,” Gina replied.

Thoroughly finished with her dismissive attitude, Ella couldn’t hold her tongue even though Ada gave her a warning glance. “Some of us don’t have the privilege of getting pregnant.” Her voice full of venom. “So why don’t you accept the company and stop being so fucking cold?”

Gina’s mouth popped up in disbelief. But Ada spoke up again to try and stop the situation from becoming hostile. “C’mon, let’s all just start over again.” She said gently. “We genuinely want to be here for you and Michael.”

Gina held her purse close to her body and took a deep breath.” Fine.” She agreed and continued down the steps toward the car.

“Relax,” Ada whispered to her sister before she followed Gina.

“If she’s going to take an attitude with me…”

“Just leave it.” Ella’s older sister warned. “This isn’t the time to create rifts in the family.”

“She’s not family,” Ella muttered under her breath but held her tongue for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~

“Special delivery.” Alfie came into the sitting room and handed Ella an envelope.

“Hm, I don’t remember the postman being so lovely.” She teased and drew him close for a kiss.

He chuckled against her lips. “Cheeky girl.”

After he pulled away, Ella carefully tore open the thick envelope. “Let’s see…” She pulled out the cream-colored invitation with careful penmanship. “It’s an invitation to Lizzie’s party.” She’d been expecting it ever since her brother mentioned the occasion.

“Right, penned it my diary.” Alfie agreed and settled into his armchair with a heavy sigh. “Just a dinner, right?”

Ella frowned. “No.”

“No?”

“There’s going to be a ballet. A ballet?” She read over the words a few more times in disbelief. “A ballet at Arrow House? How on Earth…”

“Now hang on, I didn’t agree to go to a ballet.” Alfie protested, a look of grief crossing his face.

“Well, I didn’t either!” Ella exclaimed and tossed the invitation to the table. “Bollocks.”

He chuckled. “What? I thought you’d like a ballet.”

“Why would you think that?”

The man shrugged and cracked his knuckles. “You’re a woman.”

His wife scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him almost in a challenge. “So, I should automatically enjoy ballets?”

Alfie knew when he was beat. He’d made the mistake of underestimating his wife before, so he decided to admit defeat. “I supposed an abhorrence for ballet can be universal.”

Ella grimaced at the invitation as if it was leering at her from the table. Typical of Tommy to try and get his family to obey the social laws of Britain’s elite. He wanted so desperately for the Shelby family to fit into the social standing. They weren’t made of old money. None of them had inherited a cent. Instead, they made their way, something that most of Britain’s old money would never understand. What was the use in trying to pretend they were one in the same with people who were born in estates and never went hungry? In Ella’s eyes, they were weak and weren’t cut out for the real world like the Shelbys were. They could play both cards, mingling at a social function and wouldn’t be afraid to walk home through every dark alley. The streets were more afraid of them.

“I need to walk.” Ella stood up. “I don’t want to think about this.”

“Do you want some company?” Alfie offered.

She nodded. “If your hip isn’t giving you too much trouble.”

He heaved himself up out of his chair and whistled for Cyril and Anthea. “Of course not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

After bundling up properly and getting the dogs on leads, Ella and Alfie left their flat. Arm in arm, the two were a familiar sight in Camden. The couple frequently took walks together either during Alfie’s lunch break or in the evening when he returned home. Passersby tipped their caps and gave a polite greeting. Sometimes they stopped to chat with neighbors they were close with. It was a familiar landscape and Ella appreciated that. Camden had been her home for so long that she didn’t feel like an outsider as she used to. She wasn’t Jewish but the community had accepted her best they could. Whether it was out of their good graces or fear of backlash from Alfie, Ella wasn’t too sure. But that didn’t matter anymore.

Passing through Camden Gardens, they arrived at the canal. The dogs tugged on their leads, barking at the ducks that swam past them.

“Tommy asked whether we would ever consider adoption,” Ella told Alfie.

“We’ve already got two dogs, ain’t got enough space for another one.” He replied his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Not adopting dogs, silly, adopting a child.” She prodded his arm.

That snapped Alfie out of his daze. He glanced over at her in surprise. “Adoption…what’d you say?”

“Well, I said we hadn’t thought about it much.” She replied with a shrug. “We haven’t talked much about children at all.”

Alfie chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had thought about children after the miscarriage. He thought frequently about the things they’d lost and how their children would be nearly three years old had they survived. He tried to imagine how different their lives would be. Chaotic, perhaps, with two toddlers and two dogs. But how lovely it would’ve been. Other than ruminating over what could have been, Alfie hadn’t considered the future of having a family. The doctors pretty much assured Ella that she wouldn’t be able to have children after the shooting. So, they could mourn, but Alfie hadn’t considered the option of adopting. Maybe he’d been caught up on the idea that he wanted children that were his own blood. Was it selfish? Maybe, but it was something he often thought of.

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

Ella nodded in understanding. “It’s been a while though.” She reminded him. “Maybe we should talk about it.”

He met her eyes and considered the possibility. "We can talk about it.”

There was a silence between them as they stood by the canal. Anthea sat between them, her ears perking up every so often with passing sounds of cars and other people walking.

“I would like children.” Ella broke the silence. “And wouldn’t it be nice that we could give a child a good home?”

It did appeal to Alfie’s altruistic side. The man that would take home any pup he found discarded in the street. And to make his wife happy, well there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. “Right…but m’fraid that once we adopt one, we won’t stop. Soon it’ll be ten kids all running ‘round the flat because we couldn’t turn them away.” He grinned.

Ella smiled and touched his chest. “Well, we’ll start with one, how ‘bout that?”

He nodded and kissed her forehead. “Tommy’ll help us out then?”

“Well, he owns several orphanages so I’m sure he would.”

Alfie smiled and hugged his wife close. “I want you to be happy. You being happy makes me fucking happy as can be. You want ten kids; we’ll adopt ten kids.”

She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think you just want a big Jewish family.” She teased.

“Well, it were destined, weren’t it? ‘Ccording to me mum at least.”

“You’ll be the perfect father,” Ella confirmed. “Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.”

Alfie rested his chin on top of her head as she cuddled into him. He wasn’t quite sure about that. But it didn’t diminish the desire to have a family with Ella.

~~~~~~~~

The idea of a ballet was nauseating for both Ella and Alfie. But Shelby family events weren’t to be missed unless you were dying in a hospital or going into labor. Since the couple was neither dying nor delivering a baby, they had to attend. Alfie, at least, had the joy of seeing his wife all dressed up like a member of the royal family.

“Happy birthday, Lizzie.” Ella kissed her sister-in-law’s cheek. “Hope you’re well.”

“So glad you could make it.” She replied and greeted Alfie. “I hope the drive wasn’t too much of a bother.”

“Not at all.”

“Where’s Tommy then?” Alfie looked around the room of elite members of British society.

“I saw him going into the big room to talk to Mosley,” Polly answered after hugging her niece.

Ella bristled. “He invited that man?” She snapped. “On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that he wants to get closer to him,” Lizzie replied with a less than pleased expression on her face.

Ella looked to Alfie but he just shrugged. She took his arm with a sigh. “Just don’t leave my side.” She mumbled to him. The last thing she wanted was to be caught alone with the MP.

“Of course.” He replied softly. But secretly, he was hoping to get time alone with the man. Time alone to warn him that if Alfie ever caught him sniffing around Ella, he’d end up buried alive. “Oh look, there’s Michael.” It had been a while since Alfie had gotten a chance to harass the young man.

“Ella, stay behind for a moment.” Polly requested.

Reluctantly, Ella let Alfie slip away from her on the promise that he wouldn’t venture too far for too long. “Yes?” She asked her aunt.

“There’s a woman here asking after your husband.” She directed her niece’s attention toward the blonde woman standing by the fireplace.

Ella almost would’ve laughed at the absurdity. “Oh yes, we’ve met.”

Polly frowned. “Who is she?”

“Why don’t you ask Tommy and his best friend?” She stopped a waiter and grabbed a flute of champagne. “She apparently wants to conduct business with Alfie. She was sent by Tommy but she works for Mosley.”

“What do you make of it?”

Ella downed the champagne and made a face. “All I know is he better stop.” She snarled. “This isn’t about Alfie.”

Polly sighed and kissed her niece’s temple. “Well, you look beautiful. Just try to keep your chin up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfie kept his promise and stayed by his wife. He stayed by her when Tommy waved them both over.

Ella’s grip tightened on her husband’s hand when she saw Oswald Mosley standing beside her brother and sister-in-law.

“Am I gonna hafta hold you back, love?” Alfie teased. But inside, his blood was boiling. Oh, what he wouldn’t do to take this poor excuse for a man out back and blow his brains out.

She gritted her teeth. “Perhaps.”

Tommy cleared his throat as the two approached. “Alfie, I’d like you to meet Oswald Mosley. Mr. Mosley, this is my sister’s husband, Alfie Solomons.”

The MP put on a nice smile but there was a hint of smugness behind it. As if he knew he already won. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Solomons.”

“Does it? Well, I s’pose people talk, don’t they?” Alfie was on edge but didn’t show it. He could walk into the belly of the beast with a self-assured smile on his face and a laid-back demeanor. It’s how he called the bluff of so many men who wanted to destroy him. “But this night is about me sister-in-law. Mazel Tov, Lizzie.”

The Hebrew seemed to cause an involuntary twitch in Mosley’s face. But he recovered quickly. “Yes, the birthday girl. In an effort of being honest with each other, I believe it was a bottle of champagne and an evening well spent.”

Ella’s jaw dropped. “You little-”

Lizzie stopped her from going off on the man. She reached into her purse and pulled out a coin. “Actually, it was an evening wasted.” She plopped the coin into Mosley’s drink. “For the champagne and brandy you bought me. I appear to recall it was the booze that put you to sleep prematurely.”

Tommy, Polly, and Ella all hid their smiles in their drinks. Alfie, on the other hand, wasn’t as good as holding back. He burst out laughing and clinked his glass with Lizzie’s. “I tell ya, Mosley, you ain’t never known a strong woman ‘til you’ve married into the Shelby family. Mazel Tov, Lizzie. Happy birthday, love.”

Before tempers flared, Tommy stepped in. “The dance will be beginning soon.” He explained and began to direct them towards the back door.

Ella pointedly looked a Mosley before leaning in to kiss Alfie. “I love you.” She murmured adoringly.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfie was close to falling asleep. He wasn’t quite out cold like Arthur was, but he was dozing off. Ella was a bit more attentive but wasn’t completely taken by the ballet. If anything, she was a bit concerned, she didn’t think humans could be so flexible. It was quite alarming.

Bored, she glanced over to see her aunt had disappeared. At the same time, Tommy was trying to get Arthur’s attention.

Ella kicked her eldest brother awake. “Psst.” She pointed over to Tommy once Arthur stirred. She noticed a pair of headlights flooding over the lawn and became a bit unnerved. It was unlikely to be a late guest.

Alfie grumbled under his breath when he felt his wife shift in her seat. “El, where’ya going? Is it over?”

“No, stay here.” She whispered and quietly slipped out of her seat and out of the tent. She tried to catch up with her brother but his strides were much longer than hers. Halfway across the lawn, she paused to try and see who was standing in front of the headlights. Before her eyes

could adjust to the blinding light, she heard a loud gunshot crack across the dark night. Instinct brought her to the ground. Curling into herself and protecting her stomach.

Everything went quiet for a moment. In the distance, she could hear the music from the ballet as it came to a bloody conclusion.

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be-dazzled · 4 years ago

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“You’ve done the unthinkable, you know. You’ve made me fall in love.” Gruvia :) (Juvia to Gray)! ❤️

Writer’s Corner: My dude! This has been sitting on my WIP for quite some time. I think you’ve already forgotten. Hehehe. Since you are the Queen of Angst, how about I have a try? Teach me the ways of the angst queen, senpai!

---

High rise building. Nothing but a silent skyscraper. But that structure, ordinary on the outside, held so much secrets… and blood. The center of the world’s best and deadliest contract killers. Where money weighed more than life. The Zenagon.

The higher the floor number, the more dangerous the slayer. On the hundred and first floor, five levels away from the occupants of the highest members of the echelon, there was an echo of fingers tapping on the hard glass atop her office table. The woman had her legs crossed under the table, blue blank eyes stared at the name flashing on her receiver. She wasn’t even supposed to receive it, to get a Kill Order. She has already rose from the ranks. Started as a meager foot soldier, climbed to the top of the food chain. At least, to the 100th floor of the Zenagon, where all the second level handlers held office.

“Cobalt, we need confirmation.” The desk-bound Zenagon intelligence on the other line waited.

“Affirmative.” The woman responded; thankful that she only had to answer through the intercom. Otherwise, her strained expression would have given her away.

“We will send the details through your mobile. Immediately make contact once the kill is secured.” This time, there was no need for a response. The order was carved in stone. And if ‘Cobalt’ failed this mission, she would be marked a traitor of the organization. Her eagle eyes flicked back to the name in the monitor.

SHOOT TO KILL: GRAY FULLBUSTER

Gray Fullbuster was dangerous because if he wasn’t, Zenagon would never send ‘Cobalt’ after him. After all, Gray Fullbuster was the son of the organization’s defected chairman and ‘Cobalt’s’ trainer, Silver Fullbuster. She was ordered to kill the son of the only person who treated her as his own child. But it was also Silver who taught her that in their line of work, there was no room for human connection, no space for feelings. That any human emotion would get her killed in the field. For years she always believed it: that feelings were a privilege not available to people like her. The creed allowed her to survive the harsh reality of her world. But he changed it. Cobalt’s gratitude wasn’t the only thing that started the conflict within her. It was that one thing that she has deprived herself all her life. That one thing that made her question her entire belief system. If money weighed more than life, could it also overcome feelings?

Before she could answer her own question, her cellphone pinged. Cobalt opened the message. Just like how it’s always been, the instruction was short and simple: Rooftop. Hargeon Oceanside Hotel.

She didn’t know how they found him. Nevertheless, Cobalt had to go to him and carry out her mission. The woman hurriedly opened the top left drawer of her desk and pulled out her Beretta M9. Although she hasn’t used it in the field after her promotion, Cobalt weekly tried her service pistol in the organization’s shooting range. That way she was confident the Beretta wouldn’t fail her when the need arises. After checking that all fifteen rounds were loaded, Cobalt tucked the pistol in the holster strapped around her upper leg and left for her kill.

---

The intelligence report was spot-on. Zenagon prided itself with superb intelligence gathering. True to the report, Cobalt found her target at the rooftop of the building. But like her, Gray was also an agent. He was trained to be prepared, day and night.

“I knew they’d send you for me. I just didn’t think they’d find me that fast.”

Cobalt had her prey cornered. With no more roof to run on, Gray finally faced his killer, staring into her menacing blue eyes.

“Give yourself up, Shadow.” She addressed him with his Zenagon alter ego which made the latter snicker, wincing at the meaningless name now that they marked him a traitor.

“I think we’re past that, Juvia.”

Juvia aimed the end of her barrel at Gray’s direction. Her years of training had taught her not to flinch, lift a finger or move a muscle, at anything even if Gray had used her real name, exposing her identity. Something considered a mortal sin in their line of work. Juvia, Zenagon’s Cobalt, kept her ground, ready to pull the trigger if Gray foolishly made a move. Her trained eyes followed his every moment. She could see him consider his options.

Gray looked behind him; the ocean, as angry as the blue pools drilling a hole on him. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the fall but it was the only option left for him if he chose it. Gray gazed back to his assigned killer, searching her eyes to find some salvation. There wasn’t. Gray laughed – a dry, humorless laugh that echoed into the wind. At the callous old men of the Zenagon, at the heartless situation they brought the two of them in. It must have been their punishment.

“Spineless jerks.” He said, “Sending you, of all people, to kill me? That’s just heartless, baby.” Even with his life hanging in the balance, Gray was still that insufferable cocky son of a b*tch.

Juvia agreed with him. She didn’t have to say it. There were hundreds of people they could send to end Gray’s life. They chose her, Gray’s own Zenagon handler, to pull the trigger on him. Either out of spite or to serve as a cautionary tale for everyone who’d fall off the wagon, just like Gray and Juvia did. Maybe both. But either way, it was damn tragic.

Gray made tentative steps towards Juvia, taunting, challenging. His usual smug slowly changing his features. But looking closer, there was no challenge or confidence on his expression. There was only resignation.

“Do you really think I am all those things they accuse me of?”

Juvia knew what he was trying to do, she was the one who trained him. She had enough experience to know not to fall for it.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll have to–”

“–Then shoot me.”

But Gray was inching towards her. His steps covered the short distance between them until the end of her barrel hit his chest.

“If you really think I am capable of all those things, shoot me. Right in the heart.”

Juvia released the safety pin on her pistol, pressing the barrel against the plane of his chest. All she had to do was pull the trigger and all her problems would go away. Just a light nudge on that cold steel and he’ll be gone… forever.

“It’s either me or you, right? So, go on. Shoot me.”

He didn’t blink. He didn’t falter. Juvia could see that he was serious about it. It should be easy, he has resigned to his fate – Shadow dying in the hands of Cobalt. Juvia could feel a slight crack forming on the walls she built up all those years. She knew he could see it too. Despite her efforts not to let anyone get close – too close, it just happened. He might not have been able to tear down the wall entirely but Gray managed to force a crack on that hard façade. She could feel it growing every passing moment.

“You’ve done the unthinkable, you know.” The tears she never knew she could shed started falling down her cheek. Resolved to be faithful to the only life she knew how to live, Juvia allowed the crack to break open, to be true to herself, just this once. “You’ve made me fall in love.” One last time.

She thought the confession would finally free her. That it would finally give her the courage to pull the trigger. But surrendering to her true feelings, Juvia felt the weight of the gun wearing her down.

“I love you, too.”

Gray shoved her hand holding the gun away, kicking the firearm away from both their reach. He then grabbed her by the waist, crashing her pliant body against his. Gray pressed his lips against Juvia’s, hungrily brushing them as he opened his mouth over hers, deepening the kiss as his hand held Juvia’s head in place. She didn’t fight it, afraid she wouldn’t be able to win. She didn’t want to win. But Gray pulled away before she could even respond to his kiss. He pulled away enough only so he could look her in the eyes as the two of them drew staggered breaths. Her deadly blue eyes softened into his, wet by the tears that she shed for him, for them.

Juvia might have finally opened herself up to him but that didn’t change anything – certainly not the unforgiving circumstance they found themselves tangled in. If anything, Gray’s kiss only made it worse for Juvia. So, he did the only thing he could to save her. Gray plunged a blade into her stomach and pushed her into the ocean with him.

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #be-dazzled #send asks #ask me #prompt request #fairytail

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