#he's either pacing or sitting there. plotting. watching anyone who dares get too close

[m1kaelsons]

just  really  into  the  comparison  of  klaus  being  detained  to  a  lion  in  a  cage

[killian-spey]

Death Would Be Kinder [Ch. 2]

Prev. Ch.

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 2276

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad. This chapter takes place during [BtVS S2:E15]

TW/CW: violence, kidnapping, chains?

AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. Taglist is at the bottom, let me know if you want to be added!

You’d been sitting silently, watching Spike wheel himself back and forth across the factory. If you didn’t know better he looked like he was pacing. In reality, he was probably checking behind the pillars and corners of the factory for any sign of your friends. It seems the vampires were expecting Buffy to come looking for you. As the time dragged on, your suspicions became reality; Buffy had prioritized the threat of the Judge over saving you. You had to admit, it stung a little, but it was only logical.

Spike peeked his head into each doorway adjoining the main factory floor. You could tell he was getting restless. You contemplated your odds carefully before you decided on taking a calculated risk.

“You lose a sock?” you yelled.

“Did I what?” Spike wheeled back into the room, an odd expression on his face.

“I asked if you lost a sock.” You paused, his intense glare caught you off-guard. “You know… Because of all the pacing. And popping your head in and out of every room in the place. Somebody’s going to think you lost a sock.”

“Well, I didn’t.” He chuckled a bit before going quiet again and stalking around the factory in his wheelchair. You nodded to yourself, deciding to quit while you were ahead. After that, the only sounds left in the factory were the spinning of wheels and an occasional bumping of door frames and frustrated curses.

It had only been a couple hours of his pseudo-pacing before Angelus and Drusilla stumbled their way into the factory. Spike took one look at the state Angelus was in and hid a smirk under his hand by scratching his nose.

“Well, you’re home early. Slayer hasn’t even tried swiping the girl yet.”

Spike’s good mood vanished as he watched them come down the steps. Drusilla was beside herself, and for a moment you found yourself feeling bad for her. Then Angelus opened his big fat mouth and you remembered who these people were.

“Yeah, well things didn’t go exactly according to plan, Spikey.” He prowled the room, circling like a big cat before he gravitated towards you. Your nerves peaked and you swear you saw a glint of pride behind Angelus’ eyes as he heard your heart pick up. He stepped within arms’ reach of you and sneered.

“What I can’t figure out is, why would she abandon you like this?”

“Where’s your big blue friend?” You swallowed your anxiety and stared up at him in challenge, you weren’t going to tell him a goddamn thing. Might as well give yourself a fighting chance. If he figured it out, you were dead already. You were going to be careful, of course, but that didn’t mean you were going to let him win.

Angelus roared, grabbing your face by the jaw. He was suddenly wearing his game face front and center. ‘Buffy really rattled him, huh?’ You remained stoic, as statuesque as you could muster. If you had misjudged his mood, this might be one of your last moments alive.

Drusilla had floated her way over, leaning into Angelus and hugging his arm to her side. Your staring contest interrupted, Angelus pulled away from you. You took the free moment away from the spotlight to run your fingers against the grain of the armrests, trying to ground yourself in the feeling of the wood underneath you. Your panic was bubbling to the surface, tension and pressure building in your ribcage. You caught Spike’s knowing glance towards you as your eyes flickered between the vampires. You dropped your eyes to the floor, frozen as Drusilla subtly coaxed Angelus away from you. Before long, Angelus had stormed out of the factory again, mumbling about sending Buffy a message.

You were grateful and more than a little stunned. Drusilla saved your life. In her own, subtle way she’d dismantled Angelus’ rage and directed it somewhere else. She’d spun him out of the factory towards Buffy with little more than a subtle flirtatious gesture. You practically gawked at her as she made her way into Spike’s lap. She had these men wrapped around her finger and they didn’t even know it.

Well, maybe Spike knew, but he certainly didn’t mind. He was running his fingers through Drusilla’s hair, comforting her as he spoke.

“If you like the hostage so much, maybe you should have a little fun, Ducks.” He wrapped an arm around Drusilla’s waist to steady her as he wheeled towards you, continuing. “She was supposed to be the distraction for the Slayer, after all. That is what went wrong with the plan, wasn’t it?”

Drusilla lifted her head, gears turning as she looked between Spike and you. Your mind rushed with your fears of what she was contemplating. You didn’t put it past them for ‘playing’ to mean something rather unpleasant for you. Drusilla hummed under her breath excitedly, springing from Spike’s lap and practically skipping out of the room. Spike nodded at you, raising his eyebrows as if to say “Hey look, I fixed it!” and wheeled himself into a good position to watch from, a smug grin on his face.

Drusilla returned with two fistfuls of chains and your heart dropped. She fussed with them somewhere behind you and left the rest in a pile as she ducked off again to the other room. Spike flicked his eyes between the chains and his girl curiously, but said nothing as she flurried about the factory. When she returned, she was holding a long carrying case and a small over-the-shoulder bookbag. She dropped them beside the chains and left again without a word.

“Ducks, what is all this stuff?”

Spike called out to her and wheeled over to the bags. He unzipped one when she didn’t answer. You couldn’t see into the bag from your position and Spike’s exasperated reaction didn’t help you either.

Drusilla returned one final time, holding a large blank canvas in each hand. The left was maybe a 20”x24” and the right was maybe a 24” square. (50cmx60cm or 60cm square).

“Which one does the artist like best?”

You paused, unsure if there was a right answer. After a couple moments you pointed weakly to the left canvas. Drusilla smiled at you and put the square canvas down. Spike scoffed as Drusilla set up an easel from the carrying case and put the bookbag on a table beside it.

She dragged the chains over to your chair and kneeled, carefully untying the knots around your right leg. You studied her face; she bit her tongue lightly as she worked, pulling at the ropes with deft, perfectly manicured fingers. After she’d untied your legs and shackled them, she let your arms off the armrests.

She took your hands in hers and pulled you up to stand for the first time in almost a day. You scanned her expression and glanced backwards towards the easel, then back to her with trepidation. She glided you in front of the daunting white canvas and left you, sinking backwards and sitting in Spike’s lap.

You stood, dumbfounded at the prospect of Drusilla wanting you to paint, of all things. She seemed unimpressed by your inaction after a few moments, and had begun whispering into Spike's ear. He'd leaned into her, pulling her closer and snickered at what must have been a rather amusing comment. He flicked his eyes at you through his lashes, a predatory glint flashing behind his eyes as his smirk grew. He straightened in his seat with satisfaction, head held high.

“Paint for the lady or get eaten. Your choice.”

Drusilla’s eyes wandered back to you and provided no comfort, but then again, why should it? You turned back to the canvas, feeling both their eyes staring at you. A calming breath later, you assessed the materials on the table.

The canvas bag she'd brought had a full set of oil paints- far nicer than you'd ever been able to afford. You didn't dare think of the poor shopkeeper she'd probably killed for them. A person just like your Uncle. He was just another obstacle in these people’s way, and for that he was murdered. You shoved the paints to one side of the small table and began assessing the tools. A somewhat rudimentary selection of spatulas and brushes. You could make do just fine with these.

You set up a palette with some blue, red, white, and black to start. A color palette often was the first thought you gave to a painting. This painting would be mostly blues, purples, and grays. Without turning your head, your eyes flicked towards the vampires just off your left shoulder in the periphery. You had never really let anyone sit and watch you paint. It was hard enough showing a finished piece to someone other than family.

You mixed a deep lilac and raised a palette knife to the canvas. You paused, unsure where to place the landscape. The creeping feeling of being watched was throwing you. The white snow canvas was taunting you, paralyzing you. But you weren't about to let it win. Any of them. You closed your eyes and just swiped the palette knife confidently in a bold first stroke. Now you had a puzzle. How does this fit into a landscape? There was no going back now, it had to work.

It was a mountain slope. The hue you used was suitable for a distant fixture seen from a twilit glade. You could lean into that, thinking on how to keep the morbid whimsy of the piece consistent as a theme. You blocked out the clearing and plotted out the forest behind and around it. It fell silent in the factory as you worked, only the scraping of palette knives and brush strokes echoing in the room. Pieces fell in place as you added gnarled willows at the tree line, white ghost pipes and fungi crawling on the foliage, and sickly green fireflies in the weeping branches and crooked thorn bushes. You didn't like how the overall feel of the piece was so damp and dreary. It felt too muted, too blue for what you'd envisioned. You added nettles to the glade in a redder purple, almost magenta, to tie the piece back into the mystical tone you wanted. A few more touches, a ray of silver moonlight here or there, and you stepped back. You contemplated the piece, for some reason feeling unfinished. The glade felt completely untouched, too alone by itself.

You almost jumped when you heard Drusilla shift off Spike’s lap behind you. You froze, dropping your gaze to the floor, unsure of her intentions. With three clicks of her heels against the concrete flooring, she stopped just behind you. So close you would have felt her breath on your neck if she were human. She leaned forward and pulled your hair behind your ear. She placed one hand on your shoulder and raised your head with a finger under your chin, guiding your eyes back to your work.

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s not bad, actually.” Spike wheeled forward a pace or so to take a closer look at it. Drusilla still seemed to be waiting for your own answer. You studied it again silently.

It did feel telling, in an odd sort of way. It was invisibly and indescribably alive, despite the darkness and isolation. Could be a good metaphor for vampires... Alive and free only after their own deaths. Sure, they may not exactly live up to society’s expectation of a good neighbor, but you couldn’t say they let being dead keep them from living.

Still, the painting felt unsatisfactory, felt incomplete. You shook your head and pondered. You drew up a couple new colors, a ghostly blue and a red-brown clay. You loaded a palette knife with the clay tone and hovered over the painting, indecisive. The central piece as of now was a large, twisting willow on a small inclined mound of earth. The whole painting felt like background to an invisible subject. Nothing tied the eye to the painting, there was nothing to follow. No movement in a living place.

Drusilla took the palette knife from your hand and set it down. She pulled you lightly to step away from the painting, lightly petting your hair.

“Let it rest, you’ll do more later. With a clear mind,”

You let a heavy sigh escape your lungs. She was right. If you kept going now, at the end of your rope, you’d risk doing something that detracted from the painting entirely. You jerked your head up at a loud scraping sound from above you. Angelus had swung the door open on the mezzanine of the factory. He had a vicious grin and a playful look in his eyes, leaning on the guardrail and looking down at the three of you.

“Did you have fun with the Slayer, then?” Spike called up to him.

“Oh, she makes it so easy!” Angelus threw himself at the spiral staircase and rushed down them with glee.

“I barely had to lift a finger to throw a wrench in her little puppy problem.”

Drusilla twitched her head and glided towards him. She was staring at his face, fixated on something you didn’t pick up on. She swiped her thumb across the corner of his mouth and brought it to her own lips.

“Did you bring any home, Angel? I taste a young one on you.”

“Not today, darlin’. Besides, you have that one.” Angelus gestured to you and sauntered off, calling back as he left. “She wasn’t really any use anyway.”

[Next Chapter Soon!]

Tags: @prose-for-hire @soggy-enchilada @misselsbells06

[eijie-cavies]

Wen Kexing and the great divide.

So as we all know Episode 32 and 33 has left us with a plethora of questions and the fans are divided in terms of their view on Wen Kexing's plan. Tbh that is to be expected if you look at it. It was an asshole move to hide everything from A-Xu and leave him to find his soulmate's dead body only to find holy shit this motherfucker is alive still what the hell. And so a lot of the fans sided with the argument that Wen Kexing never learned and was acting like a selfish lone wolf. But today i am here to try to analyze the plan between Scorpion king, Wen Kexing and Ye bai Ye.

Please keep in mind i haven't watched the entirety of the show yet and so some theories here might not fit in with the rest of Kexing's explanation for the next episode.

Also thid will contain spoilers so please be warned.

Alright let's start. I will be dividing this analysis into parts. 1st part is the show's script and budgeting and why they chose the route that the went with.

2nd part is my theories on the heroes conference and why it was rushed as well as the timeline.

And lastly Wen Kexing's POV and the analysis for his plan and why he did what he did keeping A-Xu in mind as well.

A few extra bonuses is the romeo and juliet plot and why i think it had to be in the plot somehow.

So lets start, sit down and grab a drink for this you will need it.

1st part.

Scriptwriting and budgeting.

This show was supposed to have 45 episode and so the plot would have had more time to marinate and kick in if it weren't for the shortening of the epsiode.

With this in mind the scriptwriter had originally planned for this 45 episode and sadly we won't probably know what was supposed to happen if it weren't cut to 36 episode. But we do have Wolong nuts to thank for giving the drama sponsorship and making the drama into 36 rather than 32. If we had only 32 episodes in this drama everything would have felt too rushed and fast paced. And so to have to cut 9 episodes worth of plot the screewriter was put in a tight spot on how to cram three different events. Namely the kidnapping, the exposing of Zhao Jing and of course the wedding plot as well.

Thus the Romeo and Juliet plot was born. We will be discussing this plot in depth later on in the analysis. Nonetheless if they have had all the freedom and budget it would have been nice to see a plot of Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing and The Scorpion King all work together to bring Zhao Jing down. For now let us work on the plot given to us.

2.) Timeline.

The heroes conference is a huge deal, this is where EVERYONE of big sects and names gather in the martial arts world, its the equivalent of the whole world witnessing everything. This event is a big part of the plan that the three accomplices had, if they didn't act right away Wen Kexing and Xie'er (Scorpion King) wouldn't have had the chance to expose Zhao Jing in the future, because like what the beauty ghost relayed, once the heroes conference is over Zhao Jing planned on killing Xie'er and eradicating the ghost valley. There would have been no other time to take him down, no time to wait for another heroes conference as Zhao Jing would have risen in power already, they would have been too powerful to stop and the merits he would have gained by then would be multiplies, the people wouldnt see him as evil anymore. Therefore it was crucial to strike at the time where they are most vulnerable and the seed of doubt was still fresh, if they had waited, everyone would have disregarded Wen Kexing as a mad man and praised Zhao Jing for saving them from the purges of the ghost valley.

And scorpion king? Who would believe him if he was the only one to take a stand? His Godfather no doubt would have acted as if he didnt know what Scorpion was saying and act innocent. Even if he was spared Scorpion had no allies other than Wen Kexing who's allies was also born out of the same hatred they had for Zhao Jing. Everyone was forced to act swiftly, it was an all or none kind of situation. Now if we backtrack to the previous episodes, not two episode ago Zhou Zishu was heavily injured because of the kidnapping and was given no time to properly heal before everything needed to be set. As you can see in episode 31 Wen Kexing was in a hurry to meet Xie'er, don't you think it was iffy that he would leave A-Xu like that if he was still injured? The Wen Kexing that we all know would not have moved a single inch from Zhou Zishu's side if he were injured. And this is because of a lot of things which we will be getting to in the third part of the analysis.

Now on the subject of the plan and how Chengling had somehow gotten a hold of it. Simple, Ye bai Yi. He is free to roam around, sending messages and talking to people behind the scenes, we never really knew what he did after he left Wen kexing at four seasons manor and the reason why he had agreed on the rushed reopening of the heroes conference. but if you think about it it fits with the timeline. Zhao Jing wanted to reopen the heroes conference and Ye Bai Yi was sure that they were out to hunt down the chief of the ghost valley. If you remember the letter in episode 27 you will understand.

Why did they get that letter in the first place when the four seasons manor wasnt even fully restored yet? The martial arts world didnt even know that Zishu was on the road to reopening it and yet he got an invitation. This is Ye Bai Yi's first clue and a nudge for Wen Kexing to take action. This leads us to part 3. Wen Kexing's plan.

3. Wen Kexing's plan.

Now the question is why didn't Wen Kexing think to tell Zhou Zishu his plan? Simple. He is heavily injured. Now i was stuck here as well because i would have thought, why couldnt he just trust Zishu of his plan? BUT you all have forgotten this.

Wen Kexing has asked this two times, he wanted tell Chengling already so the kid could process it before he could stage his plan and possibly even tell Zhou Zishu on how he can use the heroes conference as an event where he can expose Zhao Jing. But Zhou Zishu was kidnapped, tortured and injured. There was no time to tell him of the plan without him having to stop Wen Kexing from doing it. At first i thought this didnt make sense, Wen should have trusted Zishu enough to carry on without distrubance right? Well a very nice person in Youtube provided some very interesting and eye opening points for me.

And they are right, if i were Wen kexing i wouldn't want to burden Zishu of having to wait around thinking where i went off to, why do you think he told A-Xiang to take care of Zishu and promised to go back in one piece?

A-Xiang was also kept in the dark of the plan, the only plan she knew was that Wen Kexing is planning to have an alliance with the scorpion king and thats it. He didnt fully disclose everything either.

Wen Kexing's plan was simple, after he was regarded as "Dead" he probably would have went home to tell Zhou Zishu he was completely fine and it was all a ruse to trap Zhao Jing. BUT the problem was that Zishu set out to find him, Bei Yuan and Da Wu couldn't stop him either as they had no time to explain everything without Zishu panicking. Like i said this was all too rushed of a plan for Zishu to comprehend specially when he needed to heal as fast as possible.

What they could only do is give Zishu a medicine to ensure that if he ever did take out the nails he would still be okay. And that was the downfall of Kexing's plan. He didnt expect Zishu to have escaped his friends watchful eyes and go to the siege, ever wonder why Kexing said this when Zishu arrived?

He was trying to convince Zishu to leave, make him believe that Wen Kexing is out for blood. But Zishu didn't fall for it, instead he stayed which was NOT a part of the plan at all. There was nothing Kexing could have done now, the siege was happening and he could only play along and move forward. And if you look closely again just as they were about to attack Kexing, Ye Ba Yi came to fight Kexing at the VERY right time, and who fought Zhou Zishu?

The three ghosts WuChang, his subordinate and Happy ghost. Why didn't anyone else go for Zishu? They could have had the scorpions attack him but they chose the Ghosts who are a part of Wen Kexing's valley, mind you these three ghosts were there when they rescued Zishu wouldn't it just sound stupid if they were fighting Zishu to kill him? No. What they tried to do is separate Zishu from Wen Kexing. Ye Bai ye could have eliminated Wen in 10 moves, he said this himself. But they had this complicated dance that somehow landed Wen Kexing at the edge of the cliff and left Chengling to do the rest.

And so he fell and Zishu followed. If you look closely even Ye Bai Yi was surprised that Zhishu jumped. NONE of it was part of the plan. From the moment Zishu entered to the moment he jumped no one planned for it.

And if you are upset of Zishu having to see Kexing's dead body and breaking his heart, this again was NOT A part of the plan. Beauty ghost was there to protect the corpse, if the corpse had not been burned it would have been presented to the martial art world and Kexing would come back as a different person and telling them "They got it wrong. That corpse is the chief of the ghost valley, i am Wen Kexing the disciple of four seasons manor" and it would have been more belieavable. But plans went south, Zishu found the corpse further solidfying that Kexing (in his mind) is dead and so he took out the nails. Ke xing couldn't show himself to stop Zishu either, there was so little time and he couldn't risk himself be seen.

Some others had been in the dark of the plan as well, not just Zishu, and the reason Wen Kexing didn't dare tell him was not because he didn't trust Zishu to stay away and let the plan carry out, instead he know EXACTLY what this will do to Zishu. Wen Kexing's plan was to HIDE Zishu away until the conference ended. Because with Da Wu and Bei Yuan, there would have been no news about Ke Xing dying that would have reached their place and Zishu would have had all the time to recover as Ke Xing took revenge and finally come back home as a new person.

He NEEDED Zishu to stay away from the fight to help himself heal just enough to get the nails out.

His revenge done and his new goal to be with Zishu for the rest of their lives. But unfortunate events happened, Zishu found out and there was other way to go but forward.

Ever wonder why Kexing had this look on his face on episode 33?

He wanted so bad to explain everything but the spotlight was on him and this was the only time he will be given the chance to take a stand. This is now between him and the Zhao Jing. Like everything there was nothing to do but move forward.

Now for bonus part.

Romeo and Juliet plot.

Romeo and Juliet plot is basically person A percieved as "Dead" and person B endagering their life to the brink of death only to find person A was alive and well but Person B is for real dying.

Now tbh i wasn't a big fan of the Romeo and Juliet plot, this was the reason why fans became so divided and saying Kexing didn't learn his lesson therefore lossing their faith in Kexing and Zishu's relationship. He was pervieved as childish and selfish, And tbh they would have had so many plot devices that they can use to maximize full on plotting and bringing down Zhao Jing. But going back to my first point of the budgeting im guessing the scriptwriter had struggled to cram it all in. It was already episode 33 and they still had two more plots to cram in (the wedding and curing Zishu) so im not as upset as much. In the end the whole staff gave their best and poured their heart and soul into the drama. On an ending note i'll just let this nice person do the talking for me

Thank you for reading! If you guys have your own theories feel free to discuss or voice them out.

[princess-of-riviaa]

Record Breaking

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (first person POV)

Summary: Porn without plot, or the time Henry wants to bring your pleasure to new levels.

Warning(s): dirty talk, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, aftercare

Word Count: 2,766

“How many times have you cum before?”

It’s an intimate question, one I take by surprise. I audibly gasp at Henry as he finally closes the distance between us. His hands come up to rest on the counter on either side of my hips, blocking me in. He leans down to bring his face close to mine and my arousal starts to drip through my panties at the lustful look he’s giving me.

“Um…” I struggle to remember his question, let alone think of an answer. “F-four. That’s my record.”

He quirks an eyebrow, like this surprises him. “Four? And who was the magical guy that did that to you? Anyone I know?”

I swallow before shaking my head no. “It was… on my own. I’ve never actually had more than one orgasm with a guy before.”

I swear his pupils dilate even more at that. “I swear I’m gonna keep you here and make you touch yourself until you orgasm that many times one day, but as for now…” His lips brush against my neck, just under my ear, and I shiver, which makes my chest brush against his. Every inch of me is already on fire and he hasn’t even done anything. His mouth latches onto my skin and begins to suck hard enough for me to cry out in pleasure. When he finally pulls away, there’s a cocky grin on his face--he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “As for now, little one, I’m going to be the one to make you cum. Over and over again. Until we break that little record of yours. How does that sound?”

I’m only able to nod, my arousal locking my throat up.

He smiles before kissing me, his tongue instantly pushing inside my mouth. I moan loudly, which only grants him more access to me. His hands latch around my hips and pull me tight against him. I feel like putty in his arms with the way he’s making me burn alive. He nudges his leg between mine, moving me until I’m practically sitting on his thigh. He begins to move my hips back and forth. I know exactly what he’s doing, but I’m just too fucking aroused to feel nervous about it. My hips move of their own accord. His hands return to my sides and he watches my expression as I begin to ride his thigh with fervor.

“That’s it, little one, I want you to ride my thigh,” he growls, the sound of his voice making my breasts ache. “Ride me until you’re staining my clothes with your cum.”

I don’t dare stop, feeling my mind numb with a blissful fog. Either Henry’s a mind reader or he can see what I want written clearly on my face because a second later he’s ripping my dress off of me and kneading my breasts in his hands.

“Oh, fuck!” I cry out. I clutch onto his shirt, needing something to ground me.

“The things I’m gonna do to you, to this perfect body of yours… God I can’t wait to destroy your fucking pussy.”

His words and the images they procure in my mind make me moan. My hips begin to move even faster. I can practically taste my first orgasm now and my eyes squeeze shut as I chase it down.

“F-fuck!” I cry out as my body explodes with pleasure so intense that I can’t breathe for several seconds. Fuck, fuck, fuck he feels so good, and he hasn’t even touched me yet…

He kisses me slowly. It’s the kind of kiss that I can feel in every inch of my body. “You’re such a little slut, coming all over my leg like that…” He pulls his leg back and we both glance down at the wet spot on his jeans. “Look at the mess you made.”

“I’m sorry…” I gasp out, still feeling the effects of my orgasm.

“No you’re not,” he laughs darkly. Then he sets me on top of the counter and forces my legs apart. “But you’re about to be.”

I open my mouth to ask him what that means, but a second later he shoves a thick, calloused finger inside of me and a moan comes out of me instead of words. He moves his finger in and out of me at a pace too slow to do anything but tease me.

“P-please…” I cry out.

“Please what?” His voice is a low growl.

“Please fuck me,” I manage to get out. “I want to cum on your hand.” Normally I’m too embarrassed to talk dirty, but my arousal has pushed me past the point of modesty.

Henry licks a stripe up my neck before nipping up my ear. I melt into him just as he adds another finger. The stretch comes with a painful sting but it’s gone the moment he starts curling his fingers inside of me, replacing the pain with hot euphoria. It takes just a few flicks of his skilled fingers to make me reach the edge. One touch of his thumb against my clit pushes me over the edge and I clench his shirt as my body shakes uncontrollably. My breath gets stuck in my throat, my vision turning white.

“H-holy fuck,” I gasp out. A second later Henry’s fingers are pushing their way into my mouth. I taste my arousal as my tongue brushes against his thick digits. My gaze jumps to his as I suck on his fingers. The way he looks at me… I can tell he’s thinking of shoving something else inside my mouth and letting me suck on that instead. I let out a pornagraphic moan around his fingers, just to tease him.

“If I had known you were such a fucking slut…” he begins, but never finishes his thought.

I wait until he pulls his fingers out of my mouth to reply, “What? What would you have done?”

He places his hand on my stomach and pushes me back until I’m lying across his counter. His hand slowly crawls up my body until it wraps around my throat. I let out a moan as he tightens his grip, choking me.

“I would have claimed you as mine a lot sooner,” he says, and then he puts his mouth on me.

He licks a long stripe up my already-soaked folds. That is enough to make my entire body shudder. My pussy is sensitive from the last two orgasms and the stimulation hurts, but that fire in my core is still too far away for my liking. I want to be surrounded by it; I want to be burned alive in it. And I want Henry to be the one to make me feel it.

If there’s one thing I take away from tonight, it’s that Henry Cavill deserves a fucking gold medal in eating a girl out. That tongue of his is magical and he knows just how to use it. I’m gasping and writhing beneath him in no time. He gives attention to both my clit and my entrance, occasionally fucking his tongue in and out of me well enough to make my eyes roll back in my head. I clutch his curls between my fingers, torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to bring him closer to my pussy, even though he’s already as close as possible. His hands find their way under my ass and lift me up from the counter so he has a better angle. My hips buck up to meet every movement of his tongue until I’m coming, I’m coming so intensely that I squirt. He steps back but still keeps a finger brushing over my clit, making me squirt for several long seconds. I have no doubt I’m making a total mess of his kitchen floor, but that’s the last thing on my mind right now.

When I’m able to focus again, his mouth is on mine. I kiss him back hungrily. Henry’s suddenly covered in too many layers; I want him open and vulnerable, just how I am. I reach for his shirt, but he must know what I want because he yanks it over his head and tosses it on the ground before I have to say anything. I gasp at the sight of him.

Henry Cavill is a high-status actor. There’s no doubt about it. There’s also no doubt about his perfect physique, since there’s plenty of shirtless workout photos of him on the internet. But Henry Cavill, the actor, the star, the celebrity--that’s not who I’ve gotten to know in this last month over nervous dates and late-night phone calls. The Henry I’ve gotten to know is a simple guy who plays video games and loves his dog and is insecure about his body, unable to see the perfections in himself. The Henry I know, the Henry I’m falling for, is so human it overwhelms me sometimes. And now, as I see him shirtless in person for the first time, it’s like those two different versions of Henry are colliding and morphing to become one. I suddenly feel awestruck and intimidated, like I don’t deserve to see him like this.

“Shit,” Henry grumbles.

I meet his gaze to find him staring at me like I’ve disappointed him. “What is it?”

“You’re doing it,” he says, like it should be obvious. “You’re suddenly remembering I’m Superman, I’m the Mission Impossible guy, I’m The Witcher.”

With every passing second I can sense him building his walls higher, locking his heart away from me.

“Henry…” I start, but don’t know what to say. He’s right; I am doing that--I’m completely dehumanizing him, idolizing him, turning him into a god in my head. And I promised on our first date--the first time we saw each other in person after being two strangers who texted for weeks--that he didn’t have to worry about me ever doing that.

He turns to pick up his shirt, but before he can put it back on I grab his arm. Carefully, but hard enough to gain his attention.

“You’re not Henry Cavill to me,” I tell him. “You’re not the same Henry to me as you are to every other person in the world. You don’t have to prove anything, be anything other than who you are. You’re an actor who’s been in huge, successful films because you’re talented, and I applaud you for that, but it doesn’t change how I see you.” I won’t let it change how I see you. “You’re not just the movie guy to me, okay?”

He hesitates. The look in his eyes tells me I’ve convinced him, but his body betrays him.

“You’re Henry,” I continue, “the guy who’s best friend is his dog. You’re the guy that bought me a new pair of shoes when my heel broke on our first date. You’re the guy who I hate taking to family dinners purely because you get along with my family better than I do. You’re not the movie guy to me, you’re a million other things. So please don’t put your shirt on. I want to look at you.”

That convinces him. He lets go of his shirt and keeps his arms at his side, letting me take in every inch of him. He’s not even flexing yet his abs and biceps are outlined clearly beneath his skin. He’s large, his shirts hiding just how broad he is. Dark, curly hair swirls around his pecs and beneath his naval, hugged on either side by the V of his hips, which disappears beneath his jeans. I finally notice the erection straining against his zipper and it takes every ounce of self-control not to reach out for it.

“Fuck,” I softly exhale as I bite my lower lip. I’m suddenly very aware of my heart racing in my chest, adding to the heat coursing through my body, and the fact that I’m very, very tiny compared to him. The size difference between us is almost laughable. When I look back at his eyes, I realize just how blown his pupils are. The air between us is electric, filled with sexual tension.

Henry slowly, teasingly slowly, reaches for his jeans. He pops the button. I catch a glimpse of dark blue underwear as he drags his zipper down, taking his time to reveal what I’m so desperate to see.

“Henry,” I whine without meaning to. As soon as his name leaves my mouth I’m blushing like an idiot, though it just makes him smirk.

His fingers hook around his belt loops. He tugs them down. My heart is in my throat at this point and I’m so wet that I can feel my arousal drip onto the counter. My eyes catch onto the writing on the band of his underwear. Calvin Klein is written in bold, white letters. I have no idea why I need to know that, but I feel myself storing that information away for later. His underwear is tented with the thick outline of his erection. I’m just now beginning to realize that Henry is big… everywhere. I swallow when I realize that he’s easily seven inches, but probably closer to eight.

How the hell am I supposed to fit him inside of me? The thought scares me as much as it arouses me.

Henry finally, finally lowers his underwear. I realize I’d been holding my breath when I let out a humiliating moan at the sight of his cock. There’s a thick vein that runs along the side. He curves a bit along the head, and his tip is red and already leaking pre-cum. I lick my lips, wanting him in my mouth as much as I want him buried deep inside of me.

When he finally speaks, his voice is loud amidst the quiet tension. “If you aren’t ready to do this, tell me now, because in a few seconds I won’t be able to stop.”

I force my gaze to meet his. My want must be written all over my face because he doesn’t hesitate a second longer. He closes the distance between us and pulls me in for a slow, sensual kiss that I feel in every inch of my body.

“I want you,” I get out between breathless kisses.

He growls in response and his mouth begins to trail down my neck, down my chest. He stops to suck on each of my nipples before moving his mouth lower.

“Henry!” I call out before he can put his mouth on me again.

He freezes and looks up at me, his eyes completely dark with sinful lust.

“I don’t want your mouth,” I say. “I want--I need…”

“Use your words, little one.” He kisses each of my hips as he waits for me to speak. The way he touches me sends me straight to cloud nine. His hands, his mouth, his tongue--everything about him is addicting.

“I want you inside of me,” I admit. “I want you to fuck me, Henry.”

His smile presses against my skin. A second later he stands up and wraps his hand around his cock. I let out a ridiculous moan as he drags it between my folds, not just to soak up my wetness but to tease me until I’m close to the edge again. I reach out for him, grabbing onto his arm as he grips my hip in his hand. With his other hand he guides his cock to my entrance. He barely pushes an inch inside of me before the pain starts, my walls already stretching to the point of a bitter sting. I hold my breath as he slowly enters me, careful not to go too fast. My legs are spread wide on the counter, allowing me to watch his cock disappear inside my pussy. I let out a small whimper when he’s not even halfway inside of me; I swear it feels like he’s ripping my body in half. He’s so big, and I’m so tiny, so tight… But the pain is gone as soon as he bottoms out inside of me, his head resting snugly against my cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight,” Henry grunts out as he leans in for a kiss. This kiss isn’t about the passion or the heat--it’s his way of telling me that this moment is as much about me as it is about him, and if I need him to stop, he’ll stop. He won’t push me. I can trust him.

And I do trust him, enough to say, “Fuck me, Henry.”

...

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[shortiedreams]

Nobles in the night

Requested by @jwxei

Pairing: Bakugo x (fem) Reader 

Synopsis: You’re a princess set out to kill the king of your nation. Will you succeed?

Word count: 1,821

CW: Attempted murder

A/N: Played ‘Phantom of the Opera’ soundtracks whilst writing this. Dying right now ✌��

_

“The hour of the ball has transpired.” a hushed voice came from behind the entrance.

With the help of his usual dynamic tone, Bakugo immediately recognises the familiar voice of his fidus Achates, Kirishima Eijiro. 

“Very well.” he sighs, and Kirishima could almost hear a frown through his raspy voice. 

None of this was going the way Bakugo wanted it to, yet he couldn’t back out anymore; it was simply too late.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, your majesty.” Kirishima reports.

“Please do.”

Bakugo examines his profile in the gilded mirror. He glowers at his own reflection, how outlandish he looked in his formal attire. Even short of the mantle cloak he was supposed to wear tonight, everything about what he’s dressed himself was far too extravagant for his liking.

He poses again with several new angles as if his judgements will change in one swift movement, but of course, it still feels improper.

He drops his eyes in defeat, succumbing to the unadorned fact that he was going to have to get used to the policies of being king.

He has no idea why everyone worshipped the throne. All he ever wanted was to live a secluded life with his family and friends. 

In actuality, that was what he had before the Mediterranean War a year prior to the present, wiping out the entirety of his family, ergo his newfound entitlement: the king. Kirishima was the only part of his childhood that remained, the only part of his childhood he still had physical contact with. It wasn’t surprising to say that he was very attached to the man, granting him the chancellor’s position. 

Which is why with Kirishima and his family’s former support, it was impossible for him to deny the tradition of the annual ball no matter how much he opposes it. He hates the notion of prattling aristocrats shattering his peace and quietness. Even more so of his invitation to you, the Princess of Agathinos, under the monarchy’s recommendation. This would be the first time a guest with royal blood would visit the palace ever since his family’s death. 

As always, Bakugo initially wanted to decline, but Kirishima advised him that he should accept it since it was ‘time’ for him to start courting. He thought Kirishima was being a nuisance, then again he also didn’t want to be looked down on by the aristocrats. He already knows there are rumours of him, calling him all sorts of names like ‘boorish to women’ or ‘ a  critter of another nation’. 

Bakugo was a smart man, so it didn’t take him much to realise that if he really terminated these accustomed traditions, the public would cause unnecessary commotions. Therefore, for the sake of his future peace and his reputation, the ball is set to commence tonight.

Bakugo snaps out of his sombre daze as he reaches the doors to his chamberlains. He fixes himself, coughs a little, before the doors open and he’s now striding out into the hallway. 

Two handmaids are waiting outside his chambers on cue, guiding him to the ballroom. Bakugo glances around the normally dimmed hall, spotting the marshals line-up in armour and the walls decorated with large candles and Renaissance artifacts. He could hear the distant melodies of the orchestra, currently playing some melodramatic composition. Amidst the lively energy of the hall, Bakugo thought that these attributes only made the area more inhumane.

Bakugo soon enters the top of the stairway, where he adjusts himself as he sits on his throne. He doesn’t even get a few seconds to himself and the guests are already flooding into the ballroom, producing a discord between the music and the chatters. 

“Just great.” he grumbles to himself, resting his chin atop a fisted hand.

_

“For the stead of my parents and the kingdom.” you remind yourself.

You too were sitting in front of your vanity mirror, questioning yourself of your affairs. 

You stare into the mirror long and hard. The dress you were currently wearing is the embodiment of an icy blue oasis. The crystal embroidery embellished on the outermost tulle of the skirt was your definition of a wintery wonderland. The rest of your body was touched up with matching accessories too: diamond earrings, silk gloves and silver hair ornaments. Everything about your outfit shone under the moonlight, but you didn’t, you merely blended in with the dark. Especially with the expression you were holding, no one was going to see you as a ‘princess’.

The reason for your morose mien was your parents, who weren’t attending the ball alongside you as they were busied with engagements arranged overseas.

The only thing they left behind for you was the invitation card, and a letter explicitly telling you to the murder the king. 

At the time you read the letter, you were shocked at how your parents could possibly craft up an assassination plot with such detail. You weren’t oblivious to your parents being megalomaniacs; it was why they were away most of the time, focus directed towards any other royalty overseas rather than their own daughter back at home. 

Another reason why they never really bothered with you was because you were a daughter. Although you were an only child, you understood that society’s misogynistic ways definitely influenced their lack of attention towards you.

It's not like you and your family had a bad relationship but you weren’t exactly close either, therefore you didn’t have enough memories to form any opinions on them. Well that is up until now, when the confidential letter telling you the kill the king ceaselessly echoes through your mind. 

Brazen of you, but you wanted to get some of your family’s attention for once. In a sense, you inherited their selfishness. 

You temporarily shake off your thoughts, and with the minimal amount of dignity left in you, tread along to where your chauffeur was, waiting to escort you to the plaza - the location of the castle. 

Inside the privacy of your cart, the thoughts of how the assassination will go runs through your mind as you fiddle nervously on the holster underneath your dress.

You just hope you’ll manage to come out in one piece.

_

The moment you make your ‘grand’ entrance at the ball, strangers are already gushing at you as a peculiar redhead announces your status. 

You realise that this was probably your first official appearance in public as your parents never let you out, contradicting their own actions. 

You waste no time to ask around for the location of the lavatories. Luckily, the same redhead fills you in on the information you need, and you manage to make a quick escape to the toilets. 

You shut the doors behind you, puffing in pure relief. You were never good with crowds since you haven’t even been outside after all, so the comfort of this cloistered space warms you a little. 

Anyway, you’re here to collect yourself before you even dare to think about killing anyone.  

It takes you a while to calm your breathing as the plan continues to play through your mind for what feels like an eternity. Killing really is all that disturbing.

When you finally muster up enough courage, you step out of the lavatory with undeveloped confidence. Flushing, you look down at your feet as you attempt to make your way back into the ballroom, not even noticing the man standing straight ahead. You stumble into him ungraciously, earning you a merited knock on the head.

“Ouch.” you wince in pain. 

Your eyes drift up to meet with a prepossessing blonde who gazes down at you with an amused guise. He was dressed in haute couture, a form-fitting navy suit pinned with the golden emblem of the Bakugo’s: a griffin.

Without a second glance, you instantly note that he’s the king. 

“Careful, Princess of Agathinos.” he alerts, his voice suiting as the most soothing cord of notes you’ve heard pour out of a mouth in a while.  

How did he recognise you?

“You dropped something, princess.” Stupefied, you watch in awe as he bends down to pick up your possession. 

Moments later, you finally knock yourself out to check what’s fallen off your outfit. In vain, you find all your accessories precisely in their designated locations.

Wait.

“A dagger?” he taunts, raising a brow in your way, “Mind explaining why you need this in a clearly guarded place?”

“My King, I-”

“Don’t have anything to defend yourself with?” Your eyes widen at his accurate observation.

Unnerved, you flee from his light grasp and begin pacing in the opposite direction witlessly.

“Running away from me in my premises. How fatuous.” he chuckles to himself, inspecting the dagger that played in his hands.

_

You dash tirelessly past the postern and into what appears to be a garden. You don’t give a second thought as you bolt through a vineyard, the chiffon fabric tufting together under the remiss handling of your silk gloves. 

Reaching the mouth of an inviting forest, you feel a pair of arms repelling you from going any further. Your eyes widen once more, not being able to tell if you were gratified or terrified, or a genuine mixture of both. 

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.” the flattery music blows into your ear.

Absent from warnings, two strong arms spin your waist around to engage you with a  handsome physique under the moonlight. You shudder at the enchanting sight of the king. 

If he’s run all the way here for you unaccompanied, it is only alright for you to assume that he doesn’t care about the incident back there.

He seems to be more interested in you, like you are with him.

“Please don’t run, princess. I’m not the beast that everyone deems me to be.”

You show no apparent reaction to his comment, still fazed.

“Don’t be afraid.” he adds, sounding ever so sincere. 

“Oh, I won’t.” you promise. It was the only thing you could say after being completely infatuated by him.

“If you’re saying that on account of me releasing you, then you’re wrong, princess.”

“I mean it, your majesty.” you clarify challengingly.

He hums, palpably entertained, “Will you allow me to try something?”

Was the king seriously asking you for permission even after he knew you were a threat?

Oh lord.

“S-sure.” you stutter, making a downright fool out of yourself.

“Well then, forgive me for my bold deed.”

Before you could even say anything, you feel the sensation of his soft lips pressing against yours, juxtaposing to his unyielding image beneath the moonlight. It sent butterflies fluttering down your back impetuously.

Slowly pulling away for air, a silence hovers above the both of you, utterly enraptured by each other.

“Bewitching.” he comments as he leans in for another kiss. This time you lid your eyes, prepared to devote yourself to your king, Bakugo Katsuki.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {3}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 7.2k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | 

Chapter Three

-Y/N-

When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.

 When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.

 You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.

 “Shit, he’s a prince.”

You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.

 “Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”

 Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.

 “Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.

 The knock came again.

 “Ma’am?”

 Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.

 “You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.

When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.

 “Good morning, ma’am.”

 You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.

 “How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”

 “Much, thank you.”

 He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.

 “How did you sleep? Any pain?”

 “No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”

 Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”

 You nodded again.

 “May I begin my examination?”

 Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.

 Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.

 “And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”

 “Not really,” you confessed.

 “As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”

 Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”

 “Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”

 Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.

 “Uh—no. I don’t think so.”

 “I am diagnosing it now.”

 You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.

 “It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”

 “I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.

 “Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”

 “What kind of changes?”

 “Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.

 “Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”

 “Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”

 “Bed rest?”

 “Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”

 You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.

 “I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.

 “I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”

 “God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”

 “Ms. Xari,” he corrected.

 Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.

 “Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”

 Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.

 “What exactly do you suggest then?”

 “What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”

 “Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.

 “Yes.”

You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”

 “Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”

 “No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”

 Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”

 Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.

 Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.

 “I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”

 “Two days?”

 The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.

 “No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”

 Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.

 “What are you looking for?”

 “My things. Where are my things? My phone?”

 Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.

 “Fuck.”

 You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.

 “I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”

 “I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”

 Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.

 ~~~~~~~~

When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.

 What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.

 You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.

 “Are you all right?”

 You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.

“I cannot make any promises.”

 Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.

 “Xari.”

 Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.

 “Nika!”

 She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.

 “Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”

 “I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.

 “I don’t get it. How are you?”

 Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.

 “Him. He’s how I’m here.”

 You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.

 “I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”

 “Henry, please, I insist.”

 Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”

 Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.

 “He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.

 You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.

 “Thank you.”

 Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”

 Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.

 “Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”

 “Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.

 “Excuse me?”

 His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.

 “While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”

 Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.

 “Is that right?”

 “Why are we leaving?”

 Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.

 “According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.

 “I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”

 “Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”

 “He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.

 “Nika!”

 “What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.

 “I must agree with Lady Anika.”

 Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”

 Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”

 You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”

 Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”

 “If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”

 “My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”

 Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”

 “I bet,” Anika finished.

 “Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”

 “Thank you.”

 He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”

 “Are you leaving?”

 “Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”

 With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.

 “Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”

 You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.

 “Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”

 He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.

 “Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”

 You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.

 “Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”

 “Fuck censor.”

 “Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”

 Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”

 Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”

 “Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”

 You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.

 “What are you grinning at?”

 “You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”

 “No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”

 Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.

 “First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.

 “Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”

 You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.

 “You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”

 You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”

 “Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”

 The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.

 A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.

 “Hi.”

 You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”

 “My god, you are beautiful.”

 You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.

 “You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”

 She giggled but still looked genuine.

 “I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.

 “It’s nice to meet you.”

 “I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”

 You smiled and assured her it was fine.

 “How are you doing?”

 You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”

 She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”

 “Brother.”

 “Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”

 She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.

 “No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”

 Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.

 “Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”

 You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.

 “The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.

 “What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”

 “It’s okay.”

 “No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

 Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.

 “Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”

 You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.

 “Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.

 When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.

 When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.

 “Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.

 “I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.

 You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

 Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.

 “Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”

 “No. I’m all right.”

 She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.

  ~~~~~

 -Henry-

He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.

 Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.

 “Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.

 This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.

 This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.

 “Christ,” he whispered.

 “Are you all right?”

 Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.

 “I am sorry. Was I too loud?”

 “No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”

 You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.

 “You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”

 A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”

 “Can’t we ask each other?”

 He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”

 “Liar.”

 His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.

 “I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.

 “You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”

 You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”

 He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”

 Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.

 “Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”

 You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.

 “So you are implying I look bad.”

 You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.

 “I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”

 A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”

 You looked at him but didn’t answer.

 “I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”

 You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.

 “Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”

 He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.

 “Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.

 You pinched your lips.

 “Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”

 “Today was the first day in just as much time.”

 Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”

 You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.

 “Thank you.”

 When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.

 “You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”

 He shrugged.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “After that nap, I’m feeling well.”

 That made him happy.

 “Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”

 “Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”

 “Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.

 Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.

 “Dinner is served.”

 The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.

 “I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”

 He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.

 “Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.

 You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.

 “What was that, your highness?”

 That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.

 The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.

 “I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”

 You paused with your fork in your mouth.

 “It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”

 “Clark Kent. Superman.”

 “Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”

 A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.

 “What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”

 He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.

 “It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”

 He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.

 “Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”

 He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.

 “Oh, this, I must hear.”

 “No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.

 He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.

 “So?”

 “None of those.”

 “Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.

 Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”

 He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.

 “I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”

 Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.

 Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.

 He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.

��Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.

 “What did—what did you expect?”

 You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.

 “I am happy it is pleasantly.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.

 “What’re you working on?”

 He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”

 “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”

 The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.

 “What’s wrong with it?”

 “The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”

 “Want me to take a look?”

 “Do you have an aptness for speeches?”

 You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.

 “Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”

 He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.

 “This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”

 “No critique?”

 “How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”

 He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”

 You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”

 You were right.

 “I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.

 “Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”

 “You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.

 He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.

 “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

 He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.

 He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.

 “I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.

 “Let me help you.”

 You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time.  When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.

 “I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”

 “Thank you for this,” you said.

 He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”

 “You have my email?”

 “I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.

 “Good night, Xari.”

 “Good night, your highness.”

  He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 8

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,314

Notes: Sorry. This was such a draining chapter to write. I tried to throw some fluff into the beginning, but overall it's a heavy ass chapter. Just remember, this is what you all asked for!

Shout out to my pre-reading possy, @texaskitten30 and @txemrn, and @twinkleallnight​ for my moodboard!

Tags: Meh, they're down there and in the comments. Maybe you'll get them, maybe you won't. Who the fuck knows anymore. If you want to be added or removed, let me know.

The royal family had a wonderful couple of hours together, after Riley and Eleanor returned from Valtoria. Eleanor gifted Liam a picture that she drew for him while she was away. Liam loved it, he loved all of the pictures his daughter made for him. This one would join the others, proudly displayed in his office so that he could brag about Eleanor’s talent to every person that wanted to meet with the King. Some royals made you ‘kiss the ring’ if you wanted something from them, Liam made you look at a gallery of his daughter’s artwork. He was such a proud father. 

They sat on the couch together as Eleanor told stories about her adventures with Uncle Drake over the weekend. Liam sat, listening intently with one arm draped over Riley’s shoulders, occasionally pressing a kiss to her temple. Not only did he know that she was suffering in silence with all of the information she had gathered over the weekend, but he had missed his wife. He missed looking at her, touching her, just being close to her. She missed it too, and made sure to stay snuggled as close to his side as she possibly could, they always found comfort in each other, and comfort was something that she desperately needed in that moment. 

Before they knew it, Drake had returned and picked up Eleanor to spend the night in Ramsford. Riley and Liam said their goodbyes to the pair and returned to their living room to talk. Riley took a deep breath to center herself.

“So I take it, you told Drake?” Liam turned to face her. 

“I’m so sorry Liam, I know you wanted to wait until we had more information before we brought anyone else into it. I just left that party, and everything was so horrible, and I couldn’t call you, and I was all alone and I…” 

Liam pulled Riley close, placing one hand on her cheek, brushing it with his thumb. “Hey, calm down, deep breaths. It’s ok, I’m not upset with you.” He kissed her lips gently. “If there was anyone we could trust with this, it’s Drake.”

She silently nodded and pulled out of Liam’s embrace, taking a seat on the couch and motioning for him to join her. “You’re going to want to sit down Liam. Please sit down.” Liam sat next to her, and she immediately took his hands in hers. Just rip off the band-aid. Get the big stuff out of the way first. “Liam, your mother, she’s alive.” 

She felt Liam’s hands clench in hers, and saw his body stiffen. Silence filled the room, and Riley let it happen. He needed to process this his way, in his time, she was just there for support. “That woman,” Liam refused to refer to her as his mother, and he certainly wouldn’t use her name. As far as he was concerned, there was only one Eleanor worth anything in his life, and she had just left with Drake. “died a long time ago. She was poisoned. You were given misinformation.”

“Liam, she’s alive. I met with her.” She watched his face go through every emotion possible before finally settling on hurt and sadness. 

“You met my moth...her?” A single tear fell down Liam’s face, he looked like a heartbroken child, and it tied Riley’s insides in knots. 

She looked down and nodded her head. “She’s in charge of the Via Imperii in Cordonia. She’s their president.” 

Liam shot up from his seat and began pacing the room. “She brought me into this world, deceived me, and used that deceit to plot my downfall? This will not stand. She has committed treason, she needs to be taken into custody immediately.”

“Liam, you can’t…”

“I don’t give a damn if they release the tape!” He bellowed, interrupting her. 

Riley had never seen Liam this angry, this hurt. She knew telling him was going to be bad, but there was no way she could prepare herself for the sight before her. She approached him tentatively and took his face in both of her hands, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Liam, we can’t arrest her because then everyone will know she’s alive. We can hold Barthelemy because of everything else that was on that hard drive, but Godfrey would be released. We can’t let that happen, he’s clearly an enemy of the crown, a cell is the best place for him.”

There was another long silence, and then, Liam’s emotional dam broke. He collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Riley followed him, getting on her knees and collecting him in her arms, holding him close, and letting him cry. They stayed that way for several moments, Liam sobbing while Riley rubbed soothing circles on his back and pressed kisses to the top of his head, hoping the embrace would help relax him. 

He finally broke the silence, speaking through sobs. “I spent...my life...grieving her.” He pulled away from Riley, looking in her eyes. She felt her heart tighten at the sight of his red eyes and tear stained cheeks. “I spent my life thinking she loved me, but I clearly meant nothing to her.” 

“Liam, she loved you...she loves you. I could see it in the way she spoke about you.” She gently wiped the tears from his face. “Those letters, those journal entries we found, they were all real. She genuinely felt all of those things for you.” She watched the confusion in Liam’s eyes, he was clearly torn on how he should receive this information. She knew there was more she had to tell him, but she wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle it. “Liam, there’s more. I can wait if you would rather…”

“No, that’s alright. Please, continue.” He switched on his stoic royal facade and stood from the floor, extending his hand to help Riley up. 

Riley took his hand and stood, linking their fingers together before he could pull away. “You have a younger brother.”

Liam’s grip on Riley’s hand tightened as the tears again began to fall. Riley guided him slowly back to the couch, helping him sit down. She sat down next to him and stroked his hair as he sat in silence, staring off into the distance. “Is he…?”

“He was raised in the Via Imperii by your mother. He’s currently working in the Palace.” She took a deep breath to prepare herself to make the next statement. “Thomas is your brother.”

Liam’s head dropped forward, his breath hitching with every attempt to calm himself. There was a long silence in the room. Riley continued to rub Liam’s back in an attempt to comfort him, silently wishing he would say something. Anything. Yell, scream, break a vase. Then she could at least get an idea of what he was feeling, and do something to try to help. Suddenly, he stood from his seat and started walking toward the door. 

“Liam, where are you going?”

“I need to take a walk. Gather my thoughts.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I need to be alone right now. You stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

He never turns down my company, he always wants me with him. Is he mad at me? Should I not have told him? 

She heard the door slam shut and she looked up. He was gone. 

No goodbye, no kiss, no I love you. He’s never just walked out like that. What am I supposed to do?

She picked up her phone off the table and dialed Bastien, asking him if he was with Liam. He informed her that he was told to stand down. Riley ordered Bastien to follow him and keep an eye on her husband. She never gave Bastien a direct order, usually she would just ask politely, so he understood that this was a serious situation, and complied. 

Riley fought every urge she had to follow him out that door and stay by his side, regardless of him telling her not to. If this was how Liam needed to process, she wasn’t going to get in the way of that. She tried not to take his actions or words personally, given the atomic bomb she just dropped on him, but part of her felt like he was upset with her, and she didn’t want to be in his face to make him more upset, that was the last thing either of them needed. She had sent Bastien, and he would keep her looped in if something were to happen. 

It had been well over an hour since Liam had left their quarters. Riley had tried calling a couple of times, but his phone was going straight to voicemail. She had passed the point of letting him process, and crossed into worry and mild panic. She sat in bed trying to read a book, but what she was actually doing was reading one sentence over and over again. There was no way she would be able to concentrate on anything until Liam got back. 

Riley finally let out a long breath when she heard the front door open and close. She put down her book and prepared herself. Liam entered the room with his head down, even though she couldn’t see his face, she could tell how tired he was. He walked straight to his closet without looking up, or saying a word to her. She wasn’t sure what to do or say, so she figured it would be best to let him come to her first. 

A few minutes later, Liam walked out of his closet and headed for the bed, not making eye contact with Riley. He silently pulled the covers back and got into the bed. Riley was sitting up, watching his every movement. She couldn’t take it anymore, she had to break the silence. “Liam…” She said barely above a whisper, he turned his head and looked at her for the first time since arriving home. “I’m sorry.” She placed her hand gently over his. 

“Riley, you have nothing to apologize for. I am the one that wanted you to do this. You did nothing wrong. None of this is on you.” He smiled a sad, soft smile at her. 

“Fine, but you’re not allowed to blame yourself either.” He looked at her with a confused expression. “What you just said, telling me you were the one that wanted me to do this. I know you Liam Rys, better than anyone. You’re thinking about how you brought all of this on yourself.” Liam started to look down, but Riley wouldn’t let him. She held his chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “This is all on them, it’s the Via Imperii’s fault. That’s why we’re going to take them down. Together. Just like Anton, just like Auvernal, just like Barthelemy, just like any other enemy that has ever, or will ever come our way. We are the King and Queen of Cordonia, Liam and Riley Rys. We are a force to be reckoned with.” She never broke eye contact with him once, ensuring she got her point across.

Liam took a deep breath, removing his wife’s hand from his chin and bringing it to his lips. “You always know just what to say, love.”

“Years of diplomatic training. I need to be prepared for every possible scenario.” She winked at him, and he chuckled. She was relieved to see his mood lift ever so slightly. It was a start. “C’mon, let’s try to get some sleep. We can circle back to this nightmare in the morning, start working on a plan.” They both laid back onto the bed, and into each others arms. 

In the middle of the night, Riley’s eyes fluttered open. She was laying face to face with Liam, who was looking at her with worry in his eyes, gently running his hand up and down her arm. 

“Hey, are you ok?” She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through his hair. 

“Please don’t leave me, Riley.” Liam’s voice trembled as he looked at his wife with pleading eyes. 

Riley sat up straight in bed, confused by Liam’s statement. “Liam, never. I love you, you’re stuck with me for life.”

He gave her a sad smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I just...there have been so many people that said they cared about me, and then left. Losing them was so hard. But if I lost you Riley, I don’t know how I would be able to continue on. You are the most important part of me, my everything. I don’t exist without you.”

Riley’s heart broke at Liam’s confession. After the way they left things before she fell asleep, she never would have thought that this would be a conversation they would be having. And it definitely wasn’t a conversation she was expecting to have at 3AM. She cupped his face in her hands and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. “Liam, I promise you with all my heart, and everything I am, that there is nothing on this earth that could take me away from you. My husband and my daughter are the greatest joys of my life. A world without the two of you is not a world I would ever even want to think about.”

Without another word, Liam leaned forward and kissed her. He used that kiss as an outlet for all of the emotions battling inside of him. He gently guided Riley to lay in her back as he rolled on top of her. 

“Show me.” He whispered. 

“Yes, my king.”

Riley and Liam spent the rest of the night getting lost in each other, finding the comfort they so desperately needed.

Continue Reading

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara @gabesmommie1130 @cordoniaqueensworld​ @hopefulmoonobject​

[tobesensation-9]

Heyyy, could I please request a badboy! Hwiyoung smut and the plot of basically whatever you want it to be?? Sorry that I don't exactly have a plot in mind but I've been craving bad boy Hwi for a while now ☺️

I feel like he tries sooooo hard to radiate this energy! He does when he’s in music videos and photoshoots, but we all know he’s a softy lol.

“I’m Not a Dick, Just Confident” (Hwiyoung x Reader)

Genre: Smut

Synopsis: Bad boy Hwiyoung is a acquaintance of yours in college. He’s a jerk and he knows it but doesn't give a shit. Because even though you call him that, he knows you want him. But unlike you, he’s not afraid to show that he wants you too.

Warnings: Partying with underage drinking and drug usage. Usual college stuff lol (but I don’t condone for those who are under age and/or not responsible ☝🏽.) And and oral sex, female receiving. 

Amongst your friends you were the daredevil at parties. You weren’t afraid to do dares that were wild and crazy when playing truth or dare. You also were the first if not the only one drinking amongst your friends. They knew if you were going out and there was gonna be alcohol, that you were gonna have your fun and not hold back. But after one night when you got a little too emotional after drinking your fifth cup of jungle juice, you pledged to take it easy on your drinking.

“We’re gonna hold you accountable on your pledge y/n.” Says your friend Lindsey as the four of you approach the booming house with college students walking in, out, and loitering around with cups in hand. 

“Yeah I can't keep giving you piggyback rides whenever you get drunk. I'm gonna have a bad back like an old man soon,” says Chanhee as he puts his hand on his back acting as if he's currently in pain. 

“We haven't been to a party all semester. So you can stop acting like your back still hurts.” 

“I’m surprised your back was the only thing that hurt drunk y/n to 10 times as blunt. She’s damaged my pride already when sober. You’re even more brutal then,” Taeyang shudders at the thought of you telling him things that you don't even remember. 

“I would apologise but you know....I was drunk.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know.” 

“Are you guys ready?” Lindsey looks back at the three of you before opening the door. 

“Yes! Let’s go slow-poke,” you push passed her and open the door yourself. 

As you’d hoped, it was the fun chaos you loved. There was dancing, making out, and little circles of people playing stupid little games. You needed a break from all the stresses of college work. This was what you yearned for. 

“Hey guys!” 

You turn to your right and see your upper classman Seokwoo approaching you. In your first semester you had the biggest crush on him and would ask him for help all the time in a Sociology class you had together. You’d been friends with I'm since, your crush eventually dying down as time when by. 

“Hey! Where should we go? What area is the most fun?” 

“Oh just follow me to one of the circles and you'll see for yourself.” 

The four of you follow your upper classman to a circle and your heart immediately picks up its pace. Youngkyun and his best friends Sanghyuk and Youngbin sit with him amongst the circle with other people you've recognised from being around campus. 

“Youngkyun hasn't taken a shot yet and we’ve been playing for a while now, having done every dare.” Your upper class was really smart but he did like to enjoy stuff like this, not participate just watch. 

Seeing him you didn't know what to do. You didn't like him, yet the way his white t-shirt looked so tight on him as you caught yourself starting, made you want to claw his clothes off. 

You’ve only had a few exchanges with him and they weren't good. It consisted of him being a jerk and not being considerate of you either walking and not holding the door or bumping into and you not saying the nicest things to him. But he never said anything to you, he just laughed and called you cute and feisty and that he liked feisty, whatever that meant. 

“Oh feisty’s here?” 

Looking away from his defined you look up to see Youngkyun noticing you and your cute outfit. You came to the party looking hot knowing you’d catch a few peoples eyes, but you didn't think his would be one of them. 

“It’s not feisty, its y/n.” 

“Oh?” He raises his hands up in surrender. “That’s cute, just like you. But I like feisty better thanks.” 

You roll your eyes and say something else before Chanhee moves up and speaks, “Let us join you guys if you don’t mind.” 

“If feisty is your friend, then sure,” Youngkyun smirks at you and sits back down on the couch he had been sitting on. 

“You guys wanna play spin the bottle now? Since we have more people,” Sanghyuk grabs an empty vodka bottle and places it on the ground.

“We play it like truth or dare too. Just who ever spins it has to ask the person it lands on, and oh, no truths, unless its a juicy question,” Youngbin looks at you guys to see if you have any questions. His red hair is similar to the burning feeling his look gives. 

“Yeah, we get it” Chanhee turns to the rest of us to make sure we’re on board. Lindsay and Taeyang nod in agreement and now all of them are looking at you. “Y/n, are you okay with this? I’m surprised you didn't already say yes,” Taeyang looks at you in concern. 

Your friends were always down to have some stupid fun, but they always made sure that everyone was comfortable doing so. You glance over at Youngkyun who already had his eyes on you his smirk fading as he sees you making up your mind, before looking back to your friends. “Okay cool. But if that guy does or says any shit out of line, I’m fighting.” 

Lindsay scoffs, “Y/n stop acting like you have the hots for him, you wanna fuck him all three of us know it. And he’s not hiding the fact that he wants you too. Maybe you could some if you play?” “Lindsay shut up, and no I-I don’t.” You move to sit down closer to them, with the three of them moving closer to you, Lindsay whispers in your ear as Youngkyun perks up at you guys finally ready to play. “You wanna fuck him, it’s okay we already know. You dont have to deny it.” 

You start the game off safe with Chanhee doing most of the work, asking people juicy truths that make them flustered. Chanhee knows a lot about the talk of the school, so it was only natural. You aren't involved in the game at all until Chanhee spins the bottle again and it lands on Youngkyun. He looks up from looking at the bottle and smirks at Chanhee. “What juicy question do have for me? Don’t go easy on me. I can take it.” Chanhee tries to suffice a smile and looks at you, then to Lindsay and Taeyang. “Sorry I have to know y/n. I’m curious.”

 “What are you-” “Out of all people here, who would be the one sleep with more than once? We all know you've slept with everyone here, so who’d you screw twice?” He smiles then gradually starts to laugh out loud. “Oh, I see why people like you. Chanhee isn't it?” “Yeah. Now who would it be?” He looks down at his shoes then back up at Chanhee. “I actually haven't slept with everyone here. But there is someone I wouldn't mind constantly sleeping with..” he trails off and he turns to you. Your friends turn to each other bursting into laughter.

 Some other girls playing along look at you and disgust. Some of his fangirls you assumed. The games then continues, you feeling nervous yet excited at the same time. The bottle never landed on you, nor did anyone choose you for a dare. Which was odd because people always did. You thought the other people stirred clear because of Youngkyun’s response to Chanhee. Youngkyun spins the bottle super fast, having everyone looking and waiting in anticipation. The bottle then stops in-between you and Lindsay. Right when it stops Lindsay pulls you closer to her so that bottle is pointed directly at you. 

“Let me go!” “You’ll thank me later,” she whispers before letting you go. “Now everyone would've gone now” Sanghyuk looks down at the bottle then at you and smirks. The way Youngkyun is looking at you, you can tell he wants to eat you alive, and does nothing else but turn you on. “15 minutes in heaven ‘Feisty’?” Before you could answer he gets and grabs your hand and takes you up to a bedroom. 

All of your friends “Oooooo” as you walk away. Lindsay mimics a phone with her hands, signaling you to call her when you’re done. In an empty bedroom you assume is his you pulls you in. You hadn't noticed but Rowoon had followed you two, you assumed to close the door. Before he does he winks at you, “Let me know when your done, you still have my number. Have fun.” He then closes and locks the door. 

“Timer is set!” you hear him yell and hear his voice fade away. “You look scared “Feisty’” you turn to the hot guy behind you sitting on the bed. “I’m not, just surprised.” “You know I've been praying the bottle landed on you all night?” “Ah..really?” You continue to stand near the door, fidgeting your hands. “You don’t have to be so nervous,” he says as he looks at your hands. 

“I-I’m not.” You pul your hands behind your back. He gets off the bed and slowly walks toward you. “I noticed the way you looked at me when you first arrived. You want me and I want you too, but I won't do anything unless you say so ‘Feisty’”. He's standing a foot away from you now, you didn’t realise it but you were up against the door now. You’ve fantasised doing any and everything with him, but now that he was yours to have, you were too nervous to even saying anything.“You want me right y/n?” Hearing the sound of your name coming from him made you weak. 

Before you even noticed you were nodding and were wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily. Caught off guard himself he looks down at you, eyes wide before coming back to reality and putting his hands on your waist. The more the two of you kiss, the more caressing and moans are made. 

At one point he reaches his to squeeze your ass. The mewls a moan out of you and he moans back in return. You didn't know but just like you, he’s been thinking of doing anything and everything to you too. 

Soon he walks the two of you back to the bed. Once your on the bed you start to practically claw off his leather jacket. “Your so eager baby.” “I thought I was ‘Feisty?’” Help me take this shit off.”

He doesn't say anything else and does what you say, the two of you stripping each other in a heated rush. Once the two of you are naked he lays you back and delves into you heat. The flicking of his tongue and the gentle sucking of his lips on your clit were making you moan him a melody.  

“That feel good?” 

“Ahh yeah. Just like that.” 

He keeps up the same steady rhythm and you come close to cumming. “Youngkyun, wait, I don’t wanna cum yet.” 

He stills and lifts his head. “We don't you cumming just yet. I wanna feel you around me first.” 

He moves to the bedside table and opens the one draw it has to pull out a condom. He stops and hesitates when he moves back on the bed. “You me to fuck you right?” 

You look up a him in confusion. “I wouldn't have charged at you like that if I didn't want you fuck me.” 

He looks up and smirks, but something about him wasn't right. 

“I bet you don’t do this to other girls, asking them multiple times if they’re sure about this.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” 

“Then what's the problem?” 

He looks up at you and looks like he’s about to say something else when the two of you hear a knock on the door. 

“Shit. I forgot we were playing 15 minutes in heaven,” he says as he hands you your clothes to hurry and dress yourself. He throws back on his white t-shirt and blue jeans before opening the door a bit to not show you getting dressed. 

“You guys okay in there?” 

You hear Chanhee peeping in. “Yeah I know everyone forgot about you guys. They seemed have gotten bored once you left,” You hear Taeyang ask. 

“No we’re good. Perfect.” 

“Why aren't you opening the door?” You hear Lindsay question as she pushes passed Youngkyun and sees you just finishing up straightening your clothes. 

“We’re fine guys. Youngkyun told you the truth.”

“Did we interrupt something?” Chanhee looks at you smirking. 

“What do you think. You guys knew the two of us screw around already why are you asking that?” 

You’ve gotten a little annoyed at your friends tonight, but Chanhee was the reason you ended up getting the best of your life. 

“I think we should enjoy the rest of the party. We’ll join you guys in a sec,” Youngkyun says to your friends a looks back at you. Your three friends give you a thumbs up before leaving the room. 

“What did you want to talk about?” 

“I think for the first time ever, I’m hesitant in fucking someone.” 

“Whoo hoo that's great. You want like a cookie or something?”

He snickers at your sarcastic remark. “I’m saying that I dont want to. Because trust me,” he motions to his boner prominent through his jeans, “I do. I just want to enjoy the party with you more.”

“Okay.” He smiles at you and you smile back. “I will admit, I always thought you were kinda of a dick.” 

“I’m not a dick ‘Feisty’, just confident. There’s a difference.” 

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Seams

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OFC, Henry Cavill/OFC Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendo, Possible NSFW Rating: M Length: Multi Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: I started this two years ago, found it again, and decided to make something of it. 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header :D 

Catch Up Here

Wednesdays for the last month and a half had been absolute hell, nearly twenty hour days, non stop costume changes and repairs, a steady flood of people coming and going out of the mid sized trailer serving as a dressing room on wheels. Nell Stewart had become accustom to the chaos and frantic pace that her job provided each and every day, grabbing a cloak from the rack labeled “Ubbe” she held the soft fur in her hands, marching it to the man who would display the glorious piece on screen.

“Thanks, Nell.” the smooth mix of Scotland and Australia met her head on.

“No problem,” Nell smirked “and Jordan, this time, don't drop it until after the shoot.”

“I make no promises.” Jordan chuckled, glancing down at the woman who fastened the broach on the grey and tan fur.

“All set, go on with ya.” Nell waved the actor out of her “office du jour”.

Next up to dress would be “Ivar” - the name always made her smile thinking of her son's not so far off name of Ivan. Ivar was undoubtedly one of the best characters to create, and one of the most annoying actors on set. Nell sighed, fingering through the pages on the cupboard before her. One last glance over the costume that she would be putting on the young Danish man.

Alex tried, he really did, yet somehow he always ended up offending the woman. How was he to sit there while she dressed and prepped him, and not want to talk to her? He had watched her with the other actors and crew, she was obviously sweet and a gentle soul. Somehow every time he got close to Nell, she ended up looking like she wanted to beat him with whatever heavy object was closest.

Taking his chances, Alex cautiously stepped into the costume trailer. He had been here seven hours and had another ten to go. Such was life, for anyone who thought acting was glamorous, fools. Whistling a merry tune with a pep in his step despite the hours he had spent crawling around in the mud on set, Alex was determined to make today different.

This was going to be the day that he got Nell to laugh with him, not at him, or worse stand stone faced while he attempted to make jokes.

“Hey, Ne...” He was met with a glare from the costume designer, her phone to her ear. “Sorry.” he muttered softly standing by the door, not daring to step any further with the mud on his costume. He had been lectured before about dragging mud through the trailer.

This woman treated him like he was her son, not somebody she worked with. A disappointing scenario.

“Are you still there, Janelle?” The man on the phone called her attention. She hated when he called her by her full name, more so she hated the feeling of electricity it sent racing through her.

Nell glanced at Alex, lowering her eyes and voice. Her private business didn't need to be aired through the entire lot.

“I can't talk right now, I'm at work.”

“I will only a take a moment, I promise. Is Ivan with you?”

“No, he's at school. Why?” She found the pants, cloak, and jerkin she would need in order to dress the man waiting for her. Handing them to Alex, she motioned for him to use the space on the left. It was the easiest room to clean later. “And don't get mud on the new costume.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. Continue.” She returned to her call.

“I only wanted to speak with him, see how he is doing. How's school, the usual. I don't want to take your time, but I wanted to let you know that I have a bit of time off and...”

“And you wanted to see him?” Her ex had a habit of doing this to her. It was always the same story, they would go months upon months without seeing him, then he would call her and ask for a visit. In truth, she couldn't really complain about a man making an effort to see his son, but it would be nicer if it wasn't a once a year thing.

“If I could, yes. He can come to me, or I can come to you. Whichever works. Think on it and let me know.”

Nell tried her best to hide the sigh.

“Send me the dates. I don't want him missing school.”

“It would be next month. I believe he is on holiday then. I will have the dates sent and we can discuss it, when we're not sneaking away to take calls at work. Chat soon?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Freshly dressed from his base layer to the hooded wool cloak, Alex emerged after giving her a breath or two alone to regroup, her call hadn't sounded pleasant. He didn't want to pry, yet he felt sorry for the single mother. Alex knew her son, the bundle of energy that would sometimes tear through the trailer, accompanying his mother to work. Ivan's dark curls were as wild as he was. Alex liked the kid, he was funny.

“Alright, what do we need to adjust?” Nell turned to Alex, her phone in her pocket and her mind somewhat on work.

“It feels good.” Alex raised his arms, bending at the waist, and moving about to prove his point. “The boots, tough.”

Nell nodded. “What about them?”

More than once she had accidentally pulled the wrong boots, trying to fit Alex's feet into a pair meant for someone else.

“I can never get these done up, can you?” Alex blushed at the confession. The boots were double laced and the laces in the back were his kryptonite. Nell instructed him to sit and keeled down to assist. As a mother dressing someone was a second nature.

“You know,” Alex glanced down as she fitted his boots. “We've worked together for almost two years, I know nothing about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Her focus was on the laces of the knee high boots.

“Mmm.” He nodded, his dark hair escaping his pony tail. “Let's play a game. Three things about our self. I'll go first,” Alex made his suggestion. She was shocked he could put his phone down long enough to chat. “When I was a little boy, I wanted to be a doctor. I love anything to do with Space, and my best memory is a family trip to the beach, when I was eight.”

“Such detail.” She mocked, a smirk gracing her lips.

“I reached deep for those,” Alex nudged her with his foot. “Your turn.”

“Fine.” She huffed, sitting back on her heels. The second boot could wait, while she found three things to shut him up. “I have worked in costume design for four years full time, I hate small talk and nosy people, and I hate cake.”

“You hate cake!” Alex exclaimed wide eyed with disbelief. “What? What do you have on your birthday?”

“Pie.” Her answer was flat.

“Huh.” Alex mused, he couldn't get over the last statement. “Do you at least make cakes? You know, for when your family or friends want a birthday cake?”

“Nope.”

“Never?” She shook her head. Alex huffed. “Not even when your son asks?”

“He doesn't like cake either.” Her voice softened.

“He doesn't like it, or you don't let him have it?” It was Alex's turn to smirk. “You know, since you hate it and all.”

“You're annoying.”

“When's his birthday? I'm going to buy him a cake, a big one! Loaded with frosting and chocolate, sprinkles galore.” Alex continued his chatter. Mainly to hear himself speak.

“Look,” She sighed, finishing up the boot lace. “I enjoy working with you and I like my job, but can we leave my son out of this? Please.”

“O-Okay.” Alex frowned. “I'm sorry.”

“It's just...it's complicated and the last thing he needs right now is...forget it.” Nell rocked back on her heels. Admiring her handy work with the costume.

“I'm sorry, truly.”

“It's fine. I've just...never mind. You're good to go.” Nell stood up, wiping her hands on her pants out of instinct.

Alex sat for a heartbeat, trying to find another way to express his apology. The crease and frown on Nell's face told him to quit while he was ahead. He could take a hint. Rising to his feet, he cleared his throat and thanked Nell for helping.

Alone with her thoughts for a moment, Nell rubbed the heels of her hands across her eyes. It would be another late night. The push to get these scenes filmed in the last season, in order for the cast and crew of Vikings to take their short term summer break. Her initial plans for the few weeks off was to pack up Ivan and take off for a vacation home.

A few weeks visiting her parents and the rest of her family, back in Canada would be ideal. She hadn't been back since Easter, when Ivan had gone to spend time with his father's family, and she wanted her son to visit his grandparents. So much for that plan, after the phone call from his father; Ivan wouldn't want to do anything other than visit his father for a few weeks.

Despite the unconventional relationship, her son idolized his father. As a boy should.

Why did he make everything complicated? This man's name came up and as if by some curse everything in Nell's world would begin to fall apart, all over again.

“I see your boyfriend was in.” Nell pushed her hair out of her eyes and slowly looked up at her co-worker. She hadn't heard Rayna come in.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at the teasing. “He's not. He is however annoying.”

“Aww, he's just trying to get your attention. Come on, Nelly, throw the kid a bone.” the seasoned designer laughed, handing Nell a cup of shitty set coffee.

“He's too young.”

“You're not exactly an old maid.” Rayna continued to laugh.

Nell shook her head, daily she endured a teasing from the other woman, among others on set. Alex Høgh Andersen turned into an absolute fool and a puppy around the costume designer, everybody but Nell seemed to notice his affection. What she passed off as annoying banter, was the Dane's way of flirting. A skill he needed to work on, with women who were immune to actor's charms, and on older women in general.

Thirty was far from old. So Nell was constantly told.

It had to do with having a son at twenty three. She had grown old and boring faster than she had ever wanted. Another resentment that Nell held toward her ex, he had gotten to go off and do whatever he pleased, while she had raised their son. Whoever said older men were more mature was full of shit.

“Whatever, we have work to do. I need to finish mending those dresses for next week. I don't think our extras want to come in and be naked all day.”

“Some of them might.” Rayna joked, sitting her coffee down and grabbing her sewing kit.

Throughout the day Nell continued to dress cast, principal and extra alike. She enjoyed her job, the creativity and the structure. The pride and joy when a new costume was put together, nothing beat seeing her work on the screen and in the media.

She'd once been asked why she wanted to design costumes, simple. Without a good costume, nothing would ever be accomplished. There would be no life or charisma to a story being told on the screen. Costumes had been a last resort once, when she'd auditioned for a school play and was rejected for a role on stage. Even the chorus didn't want her, leaving her to help the costume department.  Nell got hooked.

Alex had gone out to set, coming back only twice that Nell had been in the trailer. He tried his hardest to strike up another conversation, but the two times they were in the same proximity, Nell was too busy to chat. He felt horrible for making her feel like he was prying earlier and needed to tell her.

Wisely, advised against it, Alex kept his head low. For now.

Knocking off nearly twenty one hours after arriving at work, Nell stretched her arms and groaned. Tomorrow was a later start for her, which meant she would be able to walk Ivan to school and spend a little time with him. He was in bed when she'd left and would be in bed when she arrived home.

Thank god for their Bridie. Nell would be lost without the saint of a woman.

Dropping her keys on the stand inside the door, her bag was next. Letting go of the bag felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her body. The house was quiet and smelled delicious. Bridie was in the kitchen, tidying up when Nell poked her head in.

“He's in bed, has been since eight.” the well put together blonde woman smiled affectionately.  She looked like she should be a CEO or investment banker, not a full time live out Nanny.  “Long day?”

“Extremely. I am going to run up quick. Thank you!” Nell held her hands together as if in prayer and smiled.

Tiptoeing up the short flight of stairs she followed the path to her son's room. Her bedroom at the other end of the seven foot hallway beckoned her. Not yet. Soon, bed, soon. As expected, Ivan was sleeping soundly, a Captain Underpants book fallen open on the floor and his blankets half tossed off. Her son slept like whirl wind.

Picking up the blanket and draping it over her son, Nell smiled. Dark curls sprung across his head and his tiny arms were wrapped around his pillow, snoring away somewhere in dreamland. As adorable as he looked, it hurt her heart to be gone all day. Since the final season had been announced to the cast and crew, the days at work had become longer and the time for anything else seemed nearly impossible.

Only a few more weeks and Nell would be home for a break. Except...She wanted to groan, instead opted for an eye roll.

Ivan stirred, shifting around in his bed but not waking. Tucked in and kissed by mom, he was good to resume his slumber uninterrupted.  Slumber. In the hall, Nell heard her bed calling once again. A loud Siren Song.

Soon!

Downstairs a cup of tea waited on the counter, while Bridie fished around for a plate to put the freshly made sandwich on. Nell's heart swelled and her shoulders sagged, overwhelmed by the gesture. Bridie was here to look after Ivan, bless her for always watching out for Nell, too.

“I know you're going to say you've had dinner, but you need something hearty.”

“Actually, I missed dinner. I had a fruit bar and an orange that one of the lighting guys shared with me.” Nell slid onto the stool at the breakfast nook, accepting the peppermint tea and chicken sandwich. Not at all embarrassed by the moan when she took the first bite, causing Bridie to laugh.

“Pleased that you like it.” Bridie winked. “There are some muffins in the container next to the toaster, blueberry. I made his lunch up, and yours, for tomorrow. Left over shepherd's pie.” She listed off a few other details from the day. “When should I return?”

“I don't go in until eleven, I'll need you to pick him up then you can bring him to me. I'm in the office studio all day tomorrow.” Nell instructed. “Thank you, for all of this.”

“You know I love doing it.” Bridie gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“I know and I love you for loving it.” Nell chuckled. Tucking her hair behind her ears, “Oh, Ivan doesn't know, but in a few weeks his father wants to visit him. I'll let you know when he has the dates sent. I think it will be while we were supposed to be gone, anyway.”

“That sounds...” Bridie paused, watching Nell's face to gauge the reaction.

“It's a good thing.” Nell tried to assure her nanny and herself. “It will be good.”

Fingers crossed.

“Well, if you need me for anything you know how to find me.” Bridie would help hide a body, no questions asked. Nell was certain of it.

“Thank you, but I think we'll be okay.” Nell stood to hug the older woman. “Now, go home. I am sure Joe is missing you like crazy. Tell him that you're his for most of the day tomorrow.”

“Good night, Nell.” Bridie waved disappearing toward the door. Nell heard the final click of the lock, signaling that she was on her own until Ivan woke for school.

Dirty plate in the sink, resting until Nell had the energy to do something about it, the cup of peppermint tea joined Nell on her way to bed. Too tired to shower or move, she kicked off her clothes and reached for an old tshirt to wear. The weather was growing warmer as summer approached Ireland.

Summer in Ireland was majestic, really any season in Ireland was majestic. Nell thought as she crawled into her bed. She had decided that the first year she had come here to be an intern. How giddy and naive she had been back then. How different life had been in 2007. How different Nell had been in 2007.

Something about Ireland and that majesty.

Phone down to charge and her alarm set, she was ready for sleep. Slipping under her duvet, she barely had time to get comfortable before sleep over took her.

@funmadnessandbadassvikings , @kawennote09, @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @peaceisadirtyword, @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden @angelaiswriting, @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @imgoldielikehawn @tephi101, @sdcyumyum @unacceptabletatertots, @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee , @smolasianwinterbean , @capitanostella , @captstefanbrandt @bloodyivar  , @normanallthewayforever  , @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme , @imyourliquor-youremypoison , @nikky-the-writer  , @seremedyxiii , @laketaj24 , @deleteidentity , @tornupandbored , @hoeghfabulous , @ateliefloresdaprimavera  , @mydarlingwhim , @kenzieam , @jar-of-love ,  @angelswannawearmyredshooz , @manuugxlvis , @lizency , @lost-in-my-thoughs , @ivars-snowflake , @lisinfleur , @fumblingthroughchaos @pebblesz892 , @angelaiswriting , @nelson-and-murdock , @nothingeverdies, @bluearchersstuff  @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone, @ivarlothbroks, @badassbaker  @cris101071 @fucktrucks @ohjules @mrsadrianraines  @angelic-kisses13 @marthasantos95 @atlanticowe @hows-my-hair @omgshuddupmeg @moviegirl50 @havenoffandoms @gearhead66​ @happydaysandersen​ @rekdreams-fandom​ @lovemylife2618​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @geekandbooknerd​ @carlya65​

[mara-tevith-solo]

Real Funny - part 2

Something I’ve been slow cooking for a few years, a little all over the place. Some plot pieces aren’t mine, just something I played with.

Trigger Warning; Contains swearing, violence, mentions of nudity

I grinned cheekily before we all left. When we got back, the war was minutes from starting up again. When we finally got the Separatists off of the planet, we were allowed to rejoin the rest of the fleet and I was allowed to walk around in something other than armor. "Isn't that against regs?" That all too welcomed voice practically purred as they finally made their presence known. 

I sat up from the crate I was laying on, smiling broadly "General Kenobi allows me a few freedoms." I retorted, looking up at Wolffe. His expression was particularly warm that evening. 

Without any warning, the particularly sarcastic clone pounced, collecting me into his arms and capturing my lips with his as though they were prisoners of war "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be so close to you and act like you're just another soldier?" He growled against my lips in our secluded little spot.

"I have an idea." I purred in response, smiling coyly "So, your place or mine, Commander?" I asked with a low, seductive tone as I looked up at him through my lashes. We both already knew the answer; as a Commander, he had his own quarters. I still shared a bunk bed with Waxer in the main sleeping area for visiting legions. He left our little spot first, and I followed a few minutes after, taking a longer way around to get to his quarters. As soon as the door closed behind me, he lips were on mine again, his hands holding me against his body tightly. We helped each other out of our clothes and laid in his bed, more interested in each other's company, than sex.

As usual, I woke up before everyone else and was out of the room and hid in the mess, sipping caf until everyone else was moderately awake "Missed ya last night." Hardcase yawned, plonking his tray down before joining it.

"Couldn't sleep." I gave him a tight lipped smile before turning back to my caf. I hated lying to my friends and brothers. But if it leaked that Wolffe and I were... it would end very badly for everyone. He gave me an understanding pat on the shoulder, thinking that my nightmares were acting up again. I mentally beat the crap out of myself for keeping a most trusted vod in the dark.

"Anyone up for Nega-ball?" Cody asked, Wolffe and Rex on either side of him. Three quarters of those in the mess stood up and made to follow the three commanding officers, Hardcase included as he tried to pull me up. When that didn't work, he threw me over his shoulder and made his way after the group.

"Caught a live one, didn't ya?" Fives laughed, slapping my thigh as Hardcase fell into step beside him.

My squeak caught the attention of a certain, maybe slightly overprotective, Commander "What are you doing to Sergeant Val?" Wolffe scowled, coming up from behind the two. He was very much not pleased with how the two were conducting themselves with me.

Hardcase couldn't put me down fast enough as he whirled around, blushing and saluting hurriedly "S-sorry sir, we were only fooling around." His scowl deepened into a glare and he had to put his hands behind his back because, bet you ten credits, he was clenching them into fists.

"It's alright Commander, they're on my 'top three most trusted' list. They didn't mean anything besides camaraderie." I stepped up, approaching him to show that I really was alright while essentially telling him that they were my best friends, topped only by him. I felt the two staring at me, wide eyed, as the Commander deflated a fraction and his expression softened. 

"Get to the gym." Was his parting order before he moved around us and down the abandoned hallway. 

"Dude!" Hardcase exclaimed when the commander had turned the corner, the three of us following at a slower pace.

"How did you talk him out of handing us our asses?" Fives finished, staring at me as though I had grown a third head.

"The Commander and I are friends. He and Master Plo were the first ones to find me and bring me to the Temple. Why do you think I have a grey Loth-wolf on my shoulder?" I tapped my shoulder piece to reinforce my point as they started freaking out, having never made the connection.

"So you're an honorary Wolfpack member?" Fives gushed as Hardcase practically jumped on my back and made me give him a piggyback ride. Bastard. 

"I think the more appropriate answer is that I was adopted by Master Plo as one of his many children." I groaned, my knees shaking with every step. I dropped him unceremoniously with the other troopers as Cody and Wolffe were picking teams. 

"Val, get over here!" Cody called, waving me over as I tried to retreat to a safe spot to sit.

"Nah, I think I'll sit out. Both Kix and Wark look like they'll fill me full of needles if I joined in." I laughed, warily watching the two glaring medics who had had to patch me up last time we had all played Nega-ball. 

He glanced at them, equally as wary "Sounds like a good plan." He nodded, clearing his throat as they resumed picking. "So what's the wager?" Cody asked, hands on his hips as he faced Wolffe and his team.

"Winning Commander gets Val to tag along next mission." Alright, so I was a bit of a floater. Sue me.

"No can do sadly, Skywalker already reserved her for the 501st's next mission." Cody frowned. Wolffe scowled and couldn't resist looking at me from the corner of his eye. "How about this, next time we get leave, winning team gets a day with her." Oh if Cody only knew. They shook on it as all of them stripped off their torso armor and Wolffe's team took off their blacks shirts. I blushed at the sight of Wolffe's barrel chested glory, several small white scars dotting his waist and arms. He knew I blushed at the sight of him, he puffed up almost as soon as I did. The game was certainly as hairy and brutal as usual. Sometimes it was like the clones just kind of disregarded sport safety rules.

Of course, we never went back to Coruscant, instead, moving cruisers so that we could have a better spread in our attack of Umbara. Of course, the Umbarans changed over to the Seppies after their Senator had mysteriously been assassinated.... most likely by the Separatists... but that's just my opinion. The Republic was outmatched, out classed, and out teched, but by Odin, we were going to fight the good fight. It wasn't until the surface of the dark planet that I realized just how much my warnings had gone over the heads of the Council. Krell swooped in and took over command of the 501st, saying that the Chancellor needed Skywalker for some benign reason. 

First thing I did as soon as I saw Krell exit his gunship was hide behind Fives and have a panic attack, bucket removed as I pressed my forehead against his back, mumbling numbers in as many languages I knew, as high as I could go and back. He just stood there, one hand squeezing the one that he had pried from trying to scratch at the chinks in my armor. "Stand in attention, in my presence trooper!" Krell barked in my general direction. Fives stiffened as I quickly put my bucket back on and stepped out from behind him.

"S-sorry sir." I stuttered, still trying to regain total control over myself. I knew exactly what that motherfucker was going to do, and my attempt to stop it, had been brushed aside. 

"What's your number, Trooper." His eyes narrowed as his lower set of arms folded behind his back and his upper set crossed over his chest. He moved so that he was behind me, ignoring the others as they tried to close ranks around me as subtly as possible. 

"Sergeant Val, sir." I couldn't let him know that he bothered me, that he was getting so far under my skin that I was shaking. My head was full of nothing but white noise.

"Are you such a deformed clone, that not only your height and voice are wrong? I asked for your number, Clone." He snarled, stepping closer. I was filled with sudden, blinding rage as he went on a racist rant "You can't even put your armor on correctly!" He spat. 

My resolve rocketed out the window at that last comment as I whirled around, taking off my helmet and getting closer to the vulgar behemoth "I am a woman, General! Are you satisfied?" I snapped, feeling Fives frantically hook onto my belt and attempt to pull me back closer to himself and Rex. But I was planted, I would not back down, willingly or not. "My name is Sergeant Valeri MacCloud, I am from a planet called Earth and I am twenty six years old. I asked, are you satisfied, sir?" I barked, using my best drill sergeant voice as I glared up at the rogue Jedi, daring him to court marshal me, or worse, kill me. 

[blkmxrvel]

Haven't Forgotten My Way Home - [9] (CONVERTED)

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: This is really one of my favorite stories. I’ve it so many different times in so many different fandoms and wanted to put it in another one! In this, Kara and Alex are not sisters, Kara isn’t an alien which means she isn’t supergirl. Just wanna give another note that this story is NOT mine. I did not come with the plot, I just switched out the names of characters and places, that is all. Credit goes to itsfaberrytaboo on Ao3!

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Masterlist

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 Days later, the morning had dawned bright and sunny, but there was the distinct air of something dark as soon as Kara had woken up. She and Y/N hadn’t slept in the same bed since that first night, and Kara was far too used to seeing Y/N’s bleary-eyed, sleepy but smiling face first thing when she made her way to the kitchen to fix their morning coffee. Today, though, Y/N sat quietly in the living room, staring down at her hands. She looked, for all intents and purposes, exactly as she had that first day Kara had seen her in Mount Overland House. Oh, her hair was washed and she was clean, wearing one of the simple pastel-colored dresses they’d bought when they’d gone shopping, but she wouldn’t look up even as Kara sat a cup of hot coffee in front of her on the table. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” “Nothing, Miss Kara.” Kara wasn’t inclined to believe that, not one bit, but she didn’t want to push, so she had to be satisfied with quietly worrying as she cooked and served up Y/N’s second favorite breakfast of the week: French toast with whipped cream and strawberries. She worried for exactly 40 minutes and 15 seconds, eating her food and watching as Y/N barely touched hers. So Kara tried once again while Y/N stood at the sink and helped her wash the dishes. “It’s nothing, Miss Kara.” So Kara stayed silent. It was hard to do; her first inclination was always to push and prod and to be slightly annoyed, because you didn’t just not tell Kara Zor-El what was going on in your head and in your heart. But she did have somewhat of a general idea, and she trusted Y/N enough that the truth would come out, whenever she was ready. Once back in the guest room (which Kara had begun to dangerously and absurdly think of as “Y/N’s room”) Y/N finally told her what she was thinking.

“I don’t want to go back.” Kara finished placing the last of Y/N’s new clothes in her brand-new suitcase, and sighed. It had been a good week. She was proud of herself; she felt like she’d gotten everything right at least as far as Y/N was concerned. Y/N seemed happier, easier; she was already so different from the person Kara had met just a few weeks ago. They’d spent the last days of Y/N’s visit being so mundane that Kara was partly afraid that Y/N would get bored. But she hadn’t seemed to; it was almost as if Y/N flourished in an atmosphere of grocery shopping, watching television, and making breakfast together in the mornings. Kara had gone through three packs of bacon in seven days. She didn’t want Y/N to go back. She’d realized that after the incident with Alex and Maggie, realized it when Y/N had fallen asleep against her while Kara was reading to her, and rather than wake her up, Kara had just slept with her on the couch. In the morning they’d woken up with Y/N snuggled under Kara’s chin and her arms wrapped around her in a death grip. It had struck Kara how comfortable it was, even though her back would ache for days. It felt natural. In seven days they’d fallen into a routine so casual and domestic that if anyone didn’t know the story they’d be mistaken for a married couple. She didn’t want Y/N to have to go back; she didn’t want her house to return to the same emptiness and suffocation it had held before a meek, frightened young submissive had been helped through the door. “I know, but you have to.” Y/N looked down at her hands again, her Y/H/C hair falling into her face and making her seem even more vulnerable, even more lost, and Kara’s heart clenched. “I don’t see why,” she said softly. “I want to stay here. I want to be with you, Miss Kara.” Kara put the suitcase in the hallway, then crossed the floor again and sat next to Y/N, resting her hand on the other girl’s. “It’s going to be alright, Y/N,” she said, and squeezed her hand gently. “I’m going to come visit you, a lot. You won’t be able to get rid of me,” she teased, but Y/N didn’t smile. “It won’t be the same,” she said, looking up at Kara with pleading eyes. “I like being here, I like being with you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.” “Why?” Kara asked suddenly. “Why don’t you want to be anywhere else?” She felt as if she already knew the answer, having lain awake in bed for hours the night before. She’d thought about everything: about what it would take to convince Nia and the council to let Y/N move in with her. Wondering if Y/N would want to change the colors in her room, if she’d want a different bed. If Theo would start sleeping in her room instead of Kara’s. He’d already done that twice, the traitor. But as she finally drifted off to sleep, Kara had found the answer. Y/N tilted her head, looking at Kara. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why don’t you want to be anywhere else?” Kara repeated. “Why is it so important for you to be here with me?” “Because I like it here,” Y/N said, standing up and slowly beginning to pace around the room. Kara tried and failed not to be proud that Y/N was walking much better on her own, unaided; she fought down the smile and kept her focus on the woman in front of her. “I-I like it here, and I like Theo.” Y/N turned to face Kara. “I like waking up when I hear the birds and not some alarm that means I have to get up and make sure I don’t get the toast too brown because then I won’t be able to eat until dinnertime. I like knowing that I don’t have to wash the dishes three times before they’re considered clean. I like watching television with you and knowing it’s okay to laugh at the funny parts. I like to sit next to you and have you smile at me and know that y-you aren’t going to be mad at me in five seconds. I like being able to go to sleep w-without needing to find a comfortable position because it hurts.” Kara stood up and placed her hand on Y/N’s arm. Y/N shook her head, using the back of her hand to brush away the tears now falling down her cheeks. “I’m not alone when I’m here,” she said, offering Kara a half-hearted smile. “I want to be with you.” “And that’s why you can’t be,” Kara said gently. “But I don’t understand!” Y/N said in exasperation. “I know you don’t want me to go back to the House; y-you’ve even called me ‘little one.’ You want me here.” Oh, she’d heard that. Kara winced. She’d never been one for subtlety, that much she knew. Alex liked to tease her about it, at least until she threatened to sneak into her house and shave her head while she slept. And she couldn’t deny that what Y/N said was true. After all, she’d said it, and there was nothing Kara dreaded more than the drive up the asphalt that led to Mount Overland House. “Y/N, sweetheart,” Kara tried to say, “It’s not a good idea…” “But why not?” Y/N asked, sounded heartbroken, and Kara closed her eyes briefly. “I-I could be a good girl, Miss Kara, I know I can, I-“ Suddenly, Y/N flung herself forward and Kara just barely had enough time to catch her, before Y/N’s lips were on her own. Her eyes widened from the force of the kiss, the desperation of it, and the… sweetness of it. Y/N was sweet, and she was soft, and she tasted… oh dear god, she tasted like cinnamon from the ice cream earlier and it took everything Kara had not to kiss her back. Her hands, which had been flailing uselessly at her sides, now took hold of Y/N’s upper arms, and gently pushed her back. “I can be a good girl,” Y/N whispered, staring at Kara. “Please… I promise I’ll be good.” How many times had Y/N said that? Kara wondered. How many times had she pleaded it, when she was at his mercy? Had he ever shown her mercy while his hand was falling as she begged him, over and over… She took a steadying breath. She couldn’t think about that, not now, or she’d lose her nerve. She’d lose sight of what she knew was best for both of them. Kara took Y/N’s hand in hers and led the girl back to the bed, sitting down next to her again. Her mind and heart were still rattled, and her lips still tingled, with the kiss; she swallowed hard and tried to find the right words. “This is not because you’re not a good girl,” Kara said quietly. “You are a good girl, Y/N. A very good girl. But you’re also not ready.” She lifted her hands and with her thumbs gently brushed away the tears from Y/N’s cheeks. “And I’m not ready either.” When Y/N looked at her in surprise, Kara smiled sadly. “If I thought you were ready,” she explained carefully, “If you weren’t just out of a horrible, horrible experience, and if I was sure that you want to be with me because you want to be with me, and not because I’m the first Dominant who’s been nice to you after him—“ Y/N opened her mouth to protest and Kara placed her finger over the girl’s lips. “Shh. If I thought you were ready, I would claim you in a heartbeat.” Kara paused, and dared to pull Y/N to her in a hug. “You’re beautiful,” she affirmed. “You’re beautiful, and you’re perfect, but you’re not ready. You want to be here because you don’t want to be alone, because I’m safe, because I’m good to you.” Kara pulled back and looked into Y/N’s eyes. “But I’m not putting you on your knees if I can’t be sure that’s truly where you want to be.” Now it was Kara’s turn to look down at her hands as she quietly confessed again, “And I’m not ready, Y/N. Because I would claim you in a heartbeat, and it’s too soon. I work for the department meant to protect you. You’ve just gotten out of a horrible situation, you’re still in physical therapy and seeing a psychiatrist, and I would forever blame myself if I damaged you even more because I claimed you before you knew what it was like to be independent.” “I don’t want to be independent!” Y/N snapped, and Kara drew back a little, a small smile playing about her lips. Y/N, on the other hand, gaped in horror. “I-I’m sorry, Miss Kara, I—“ “No,” Kara said, holding up her hand. “That’s what I mean, Y/N. I want you to know what it’s like to be able to speak your mind without fear of repercussion. I want you to learn what it’s like to shop for yourself. To read a book for yourself. To take a walk somewhere, enjoy an overly-expensive but insanely delicious coffee for yourself, or an ice cream. To lie on a blanket in the park and watch the sun set. There are so many things that you haven’t gotten to do, and I want you to do them. For yourself.” “But I want to do them with you.” “And maybe you will,” Kara said, moving to take Y/N’s hand again, her thumb smoothing the skin over the girl’s knuckles. “But not right now. Right now, you’re going to find out just how wonderful Y/N Hastings is. Y/N Hastings, herself, without anyone telling you who you are or who you should be. You deserve that.” Y/N was silent for what seemed like ages; Kara simply sat and held her hand, her heart breaking every time a tear rolled down the girl’s cheek. But finally she looked over at Kara, teeth once again worrying her lower lip. “You won’t stop visiting me?” Kara shook her head, wiping her own eyes with her other hand. “No, Y/N. I won’t stop visiting you.” “And we’ll play Monopoly?” “And you’ll wipe the floor with me in Monopoly.” Y/N chuckled then, a low, reluctant sound, but it was enough, and Kara smiled at her. “I don’t know how to be by myself,” Y/N said, picking at her dress. She shrugged at Kara. “How do I know what to do, if someone doesn’t… tell me what to do?” Kara wasn’t sure she knew the answer to that herself. She’d had practically zero experience in having a sub, and her training was the only experience she’d had in being one. While it was true that for Dominants it usually came naturally, and their nature was proven by the small X birthmark (Kara’s was on her ribs), this didn’t mean that they were automatically all-knowing, and Kara was completely at a loss. She didn’t know who she could talk to for help, either. Ironically, help came in the form of the director of Mount Overland House. “Live with you?” Y/N asked Nia, her head tilted in confusion. “Why not?” she said with a shrug, looking at Kara for confirmation. “It could work.” “But don’t you live… here?” Kara gestured, indicating the House. Nia grinned and shook her head. “Kind of, but not really,” she offered, then hastened to explain. “I have a house on the grounds. It’s isolated enough that I don’t feel like I live here anymore, but it’s close enough that I can be here at a moment’s notice whenever a resident needs me. And that’s quite often,” she added, a little sadly. “Wouldn’t that cause a conflict?” Kara asked. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea; part of her was even a little jealous of it. As much as she had given Y/N a speech about her independence, it was hard for Kara to shut off that part of herself that wanted to wrap Y/N up in her arms, to hold the girl on her lap and take all of her pain away. But you have to do this, Kara reminded herself. Because while Kara knew that it could be detrimental to Y/N to jump back into another relationship, another claiming, so quickly, Kara knew it could be just as harmful to herself. She wasn’t someone who got off on holding power over another person, making a submissive helpless and dependent; it could devastate her nearly as much as it would devastate Y/N, if she wasn’t ready. “Not if we have Y/N cleared as a resident,” Nia said. “She’s come so far in her emotional and physical therapy, she could be released from the house—“ “As long as she agrees to continue and complete her therapy,” Kara nodded, remembering the policies as outlined by her department. She glanced at Y/N, who seemed to be quiet and mulling it over. “But why would I want to live with you?” Nia threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah, you’re a lot better now,” she said, smiling at Y/N before turning serious. “Because I know what it’s like. I know what it’s like, and I think I can help you. I’ve been there, Y/N.” Y/N nodded, her eyes cast down to the floor. “Oh. Right.” “Nia,” Kara said carefully, “How can I be sure that you’ll do what’s best for Y/N? Speaking as an employee of the government, of course.” Nia snorted, giving Kara a knowing look, and even Y/N quirked an eyebrow at her. Kara grinned a little, feeling the blush spread over her cheeks. “Like I just said, I get it, okay? We have common ground. But I’ll also make sure she takes care of herself; she’ll have to continue her therapy, and even though she can go out and discover things on her own time we can keep her on the House curfew, so she’ll still have the comfort of some rules. We can do this, Miss Zor-El. Y/N can do this.” Kara looked over at the other woman, stood there with a suitcase at her feet and Showtime: A History of the Broadway Musical Theater tucked under her arm. Could Y/N do it? Kara asked herself. Could she do it? She was already dreading that first night back at her house, alone without Y/N to play with Theo, squealing as the dog licked her nose or pounced on her from the floor. She’d gotten far too used to having someone there, to knowing there’d be someone to see in the morning. But once again, Kara Zor-El steeled herself, and as she did so, she saw something come into Y/N’s eyes that she’d never seen before. Resolve. Y/N nodded, first at Nia, then at Kara. “I can do this,” she said, her gaze never leaving Kara. Her voice was strong, if not confident, and Kara felt as if she could cry. “I can do this, Miss Kara.” Kara smiled and moved forward to hug Y/N, not caring that the embrace lingered on for probably longer than was necessary. Y/N tucked her head into Kara’s neck and drew in a shuddering breath; Kara squeezed her gently, holding her close. Nia had the grace to clear her throat and go off across the room to check on another resident, as Kara finally separated from Y/N and touched the girl’s chin with her hand, tilting her face up. “You have my number,” she said softly. “I want you to call me if you need me. Any time, day or night, Y/N.” “Yes, Miss Kara.” “I’m proud of you. So proud of you.” Y/N beamed. “Really?” “Really,” Kara affirmed. “Be brave for me, Y/N, all right?” Y/N nodded. “I will. Miss Kara?” “Yes, Y/N.” She hesitated, then said, uncertainly, “You know I’ll still want to be your girl, right? I-I don’t think that’s going to change.” Kara took a deep breath of her own, struggling not to cry. This was too soon. Far too soon, and yet… But no. She touched Y/N’s arm. “Right now, all I want is for you to know that you… are Y/N.” Y/N pursed her lips, and nodded. Once in the car, Kara rested her elbows on the steering wheel, her face buried in her hands as she cried. As she was wiping her eyes, a name came to her, and Kara found herself grinning. Why hadn’t she thought of it earlier? Someone who could help. Who had always been able to help, no matter what issue Kara had faced. She quickly shifted the car into gear and drove until she came to a large, opulent house on the other side of town. Kara got out of her car and stared up at the black front door. How long had it been since she’d been here? Too long. She should’ve come days ago, weeks. When she’d first met Y/N. She took the steps two at a time. Would she be welcomed? It’d been a few months, at least. Not that she thought she’d be forgotten, but still… a few months, probably closer to nearly a year, with no contact. No letters, no calls. Not even an email or a text message. Maybe… maybe beyond that door she was no longer wanted. But she’d have to risk it. The risk was worth it and the alternative was too much for her to think of. Kara clenched her hand into a fist, raised it, and knocked on the door. After a few moments she heard the muffled but distinct sound of heels on marble. A little shiver ran down her spine despite the small grin that curved the corners of her mouth, and she rolled her eyes at herself. Suddenly the door opened, and a tall woman in a dark suit peered out curiously. “Yes, may I- Kara!” “Hello, Le-“ She didn’t have the chance to even get the rest of her words out, before Kara was pulled into the other woman’s arms. She smiled and allowed herself to be wrapped into the embrace, resting her head against the woman’s chest and breathing in her all-too-familiar scent, feeling the steady thump of a heartbeat against her ear. Comfort. Strength. She’d missed it. The black-haired woman soon pushed Kara back, but only to smile down at her, dark eyes glittering with both curiosity and purpose. “It’s good to see you again, little one.”

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[mugen-monogatari]

5 Quality Yet Accessible Tragic Anime You Should Watch

Let’s talk about tragedy in anime. Ain’t nothin’ like watching some sad anime boys experiencing sad things while I sit there and cry. I love tragedy in anime, there’s just a certain satisfaction in ‘dissatisfaction’. Sometimes, it’s far more meaningful for someone to lose a fight, to make a hard decision or sacrifice something. Maybe the hero never saves the girl, or a loved one just doesn’t make it. Yes, in a perfect world everyone ends up happy, but this isn’t a perfect world. People suffer, and sometimes it ends on a good note, sometimes everything goes to hell and the world burns. That gritty realism and human error adds a level of empathy and depth to many shows that would otherwise lack it. I personally think it’s worth talking about that, since I don’t think tragic anime get enough love.

So I thought I’d make a quick list of 5 accessible yet Quality tragedy series, ranging from pretty popular and accessible, to slightly more niche. Many of you have seen these series I’m sure, but with the continuous stream of shows being released every single season, it can be hard to either go back and watch older shows, or stay on top of newer ones. These are just a few picks that I would urge anyone and everyone to go and at least try.

I should also preface this by saying, when I say tragedy, it doesn’t mean the show has a depressing ending. By tragedy I’m referring to tragic events happening in a show regularly, be it at the end, the beginning or throughout. Simply putting something on this list, doesn’t mean it has a tragic ending, so you can rest assured there are still surprises to come when watching these.

Also, these are all my opinions, everyone is entitled to them. You can disagree or agree, it’s up to you, we can even discuss my peeps. Just don’t brutalize me for shows you don’t like or if one of your favorites isn’t on this list.

All of that being said, Here are 5 tragic series I think everyone should at least try:

1. Code Geass

Starting off simple we have Code Geass. What a show this was back in the day. Death Note, mixed with Mechs and sci-fi and chess and a whole lot of edge. For many people, they have already seen it, it’s almost guaranteed if you watched anime in the early 2000s. However, as time goes on, this series slowly falls into obscurity, many people being less attracted by its flamboyant art style and the ever growing age. It seems like Code Geass is slowly fading away with time, people online aren’t forgetting about it, but moving on, and many new fans are understandably detracted from a show like this.

But they’re all wrong. This series is incredible. It’s a fundamental “must-watch” show. Sure, it shows it’s age now, but that doesn’t detract from it’s plot and characters. With a very likeable cast, a constantly expanding story, high stakes, insane powers and mind games, politics and action, all of these make an insanely good series, one that warrants repeated viewing to this day. What starts as a boy being in the wrong place at the wrong time, blows up into a worldwide conflict. This is one of those series that sticks with you, there are scenes and moments in this you just never forget moving forward.

Some of the things I love is Sunrise’s mech designs, Lancelot as well as many of the Knightmare frame designs in the movies and show are still fun and vibrant to this day. Many old Mecha shows become redundant years later as the designs don’t hold up. This one though, certainly does.

I also really love the voice acting. Yes the sub is good, but the dub (fight me) is just mwah. Johnny Yong Bosch as Lelouch is nut worthy. Just watch the first episode where he gives his first command. Insta nut. I’m telling you.

I also love the endings of both seasons. I think the first is a really good climax, while the second season closes about as well as this could, while still coming out of left field.

Some things that I think detract people, definitely start with the art style. Sunrise’s designs for the machines and backgrounds and such is fine, it looks good, however Clamp’s character designs are definitely an acquired taste. They’re not for everyone. Everyone looks super slender, almost cartoon like in their clothes and proportions. Yes you get used to it, but they still look very “different” to the standard, even back when it first came out.

Another is sometimes, the show just goes to very strange places, for example having an episode to do with drug addiction that just came out of left-field. In the same vein, some people have very mixed opinions on season two, not entirely liking the direction it goes and some of the character developments. However, a lot of these things are subjective and I’ll leave them up to you to decide.

Spanning two, 25 episode seasons (you can definitely just pretend the movie never happened) as well as several spin off OVAs and Shorts (Those you actually can watch though), the series is a pretty long watch by today’s standards, but it’s definitely worth it.

2. Zankyou No Terror

Next up, we have Terror in Resonance. This one for sure is worth the watch even without the tragedy. This is one of those shows, which is so visually appealing to watch. It’s one of the most aesthetically pleasing shows I’ve ever seen. I guarantee anyone who’s interested in aesthetic gifs and images of weeb stuff, has seen shots from this show without even realizing it. It’s not exactly a niche show, but it’s a little less accessible than something like “Angel Beats”, with a much more serious and gritty tone. It’s not criminally underrated, but I just really wish more people had seen this, since it genuinely is a beautiful series.

Some of the things I really love about this show, is (as I’ve mentioned a thousand times) the aesthetic sense. Every shot in this series is screenshot worthy, with plenty scenes making for ‘straight-out-the-box’ gifs and icons and whatever it is you kids use screenshots for. Even the food, just like papa Gigguk mentioned, is just mwah, spicy stuff. I attribute this to the very well considered color palette, realistic lighting and designs, as well as just overall good cinematography.

On the less visible side of things, the story hold ups really well too, with some very genuinely emotional moments and scenes. Just like Code Geass above, this series has a very well considered ending, with a “Wholesome”(?) message at the end.

The only negatives I can really give for the series, is some pacing issues if you’re an impatient brat like me, as well as almost a complete lack of lightheartedness. The series can be sweet and touching, but it’s almost always dark and serious at the same time, with no time to relax or breathe throughout.

I think there isn’t as much to say about ZnT as there is about Code geass, as it’s not as subjective. It is an objectively high quality show, your own enjoyment of it is what varies. Unlike Code Geass, there isn’t many flaws, but it doesn’t take as many risks. To me, this show is a very safe bet. It looks gorgeous, is only 11 episodes (you big boys and girls can binge that) and tells a satisfying, self-contained story. A little bonus is that it’s directed by Shinichiro Watanabe, famous for Cowboy Bebop and Samurai Champloo, so hey- It has that going for it too.

3. Parasyte: The Maxim

Following on, we have one of the series that introduced me to tragedy, Parasyte: The Maxim. Let me tell you, this series is dark. And violent. Very violent at times.

When it first aired in 2014, the response was pretty good, it didn’t reach critical Acclaim, but had its own cult following, with the manga having been published from the late 80s to the mid 90s. For me, this was one of my first truly “darker” and more violent anime, having really only watched shounen and some seinen before that. This to me isn’t one of the best stories ever, the characters are fine, and the show looks acceptable. But while it doesn’t excel in anything, it does everything really well. To me, it’s the perfect bridge from Casual fan, to serious- or even as a primer for more dark and violent stories, such as Berserk or dare I say it Tokyo Ghoul (Read the manga, please don’t support the anime adaptation).

For me personally, I really Liked the main character, he drove the show on for me. Watching him develop into someone completely different from the beginning of the show, was a real draw to me. He’s likeable, relatable to an extent, and he had a complete character arc. Shinichi in the beginning is not the same character as in the end.

This character is also used to convey a deeper meaning about what humanity is and how we define the term. It’s a really interesting series about us as a race, with some genuine things to discuss and think about, which leaves a longer lasting impression than most shows. It’s the sort of series that makes you want to share it with other people just so you can talk to them about it. Ah- and it’ll hit you in the feels. This show is genuinely tragic through out, but still stays personal to the small cast, which to me, is the sign of a really good tragedy. Despite things going on in the entire world, they make you care about these few people specifically.

However, it has it’s own problems too. Art wise, it’s very faithful to the original source material, capturing the feel of it, the low key oppressive vibes. However, this also means, it can look a little… ‘Bland’? At times. The earthy colors can be a little drab, especially in an age were Studio Trigger, for example, can make an eye-gasm worthy scene using colours you didn’t even know existed.

The other problem, is some of the characters are very one dimensional. Take the love interest, she doesn’t really develop or change at all throughout the series, but I personally give this a pass as she’s not super relevant to the story anyway.

A fair warning though, this series has some strong violence, plenty of gore and mutilation, if that’s a problem for you, I suggest either giving this one a skip, or just trying to sit through it. It’ll be a good learning experience.

Spanning a fair 24 episodes, having aired in 2014, this series is both bingeable, and holds-up very well in the modern ecosystem of anime. To me, this is a pretty top tier show, a solid 8/10, it’s very good, a really well made show, It makes for the perfect bridge into far more serious and dark stories, such as maybe Berserk and Devilman, hence why I put it on this list.

4. Fate/Zero

For my second to last show, perhaps one of the most well known franchises, that is lowkey kinda niche. Fate is a series everyone knows the existence of, but not as many people have actually watched, especially not casual fans. To be frank, it’s intimidating. The series has no real easy entry point, and all the timelines are relatively interwoven, you can’t just bounce around. Everything spoils everything and it’s scary to even look at a list of fate entries.

That’s why I picked Fate Zero. To me, it’s the best entry point into the Type/Moon genre. For those of you who don’t know, it’s basically a battle royal between seven summoners who each have a servant of different classes. They all have to fight for the Holy Grail, an artifact that will grant them a single wish. Sounds simple right?

Well it’s not. The entire series is full of not only badass action, but plenty of mind games and ‘cat-and-mouse’ between the characters. It’s brutal, it’s tragic, violent and uplifting. Ufotable delivers some of the highest quality animation you’ll see in your life (they’re renowned for it), but it doesn’t just look good. The story is compelling, the characters are genuinely likeable and by the end, I wanted everyone to live and survive. Everyone has believable and compelling motivation, and even the objectively evil characters, like Caster, are still likeable, because you begin to love to hate them. The entire season honestly plays out more like a compressed microcosmic version of Game of Thrones, than a battle royal anime.

There are plenty of things I like about this series, the plot is really fun, the fights are pretty damn cool and it can be a very emotional show at times. I could talk about these aspects endlessly. However, the thing that really makes Fate for me, is the characters. Each individual characters gets some time and attention, and with the exception of a few, you really genuinely like and care about everyone. You want everyone to win, or at least survive, since all of them are either genuinely lovable, or have very compelling motivation.

The other part to it is, this is the best starting point for the rest of Fate, and I would actually argue that it enhances many scenes found in the subsequent (story wise) series, even if they aired prior to Zero. This series both introduced me to Fate, and got me attached and invested in the world, which is the sign of a good (technically) first series.

On the other hand, it has problems. First of all, it’s pretty interwoven with the later series. Those came before it and set up a lot of mysteries and ideas that Zero goes out of it’s way to explain, from character identities to events in the timeline, watching Zero will spoil a lot of those things, which may lessen the later experiences for some people.

The other flaw is despite being maybe the best starting point for Fate, it still isn’t entirely accessible. The show can be straight up confusing at times, at least for someone who hasn’t seen Fate. Many elements of the world aren’t explained and you’re just expected to go along with it, since it’s either just a part of this world, or explained in other series. Which is fine, but often lead to some rather “But wait… What just happened?” moments.

Ultimately, Fate/Zero is fantastic series for anyone looking for a really good character drama, full of magic and badass historical references. It’s not the best introduction but it’s the best you’ll get from Fate. Similarly to Code Geass and ZnT, the series has a really good conclusion in my opinion, with plenty of tragic moments sprinkled throughout.

For Fate, Zero specifically consists of two seasons of 12 episodes each, for a bingeable 24 episode series. For ideas where to go next from this, look for my upcoming Tumblr Post explaining the fate continuity.

5. Mobile Suit Gundam : Iron-Blooded Orphans

And Finally, we come to our last pick of the day. This is a series, I would urge anyone to watch. If I could make you watch one Single series from this list, this would be it. Throw away any views you have on the franchise or the genre, don’t be afraid of the name, just give this series a try.

Iron Blooded Orphans follows a small mercenary band of boys who just want to make a home for themselves in a galaxy strained by political unrest. The premise is simple, just people trying to survive and make a life for themselves.

Well what if I told you it was directed and written by the same Duo that made AnoHana, one of the most commonly acknowledged tragic shows out there. This duo write and direct stories about innocent children being put through immense hardship and this series is no different. This show is tragic, painful even. I sobbed as many times as I laughed and smiled in this show. We spend a season watching them come up in the world, only to watch everything get torn apart in the second season, and it is genuinely emotional and heart wrenching.

Something I love about this series, is the characters and how attached you become to them. Death is a genuine threat in this show, even if you don’t feel it in the beginning. When people die, it hurts, and that applies to IBO, where each death leaves resounding ripples on the people around them. It handles familial relationships really well, making you believe in these people and their emotions. When they suffer, you cry for them, and when they get brief moments of respite, you do too. I love how invested you become in this ragtag team of boys, making some of the later scenes all the more devastating when they happen.

Another thing I love is the stakes. Within the second season, the pressure to perform is on, the first season, while having threats and such, was never even close to season two. To be vague, one of my favorite moments is when a character has to land a decisive shot in the midst of a battle, and everyone’s lives are on the line. That entire confrontation is one of my favorite scenes in anime of all time. It is truly suspenseful and will take you on an emotional journey.

To top it all off, it’s made by Sunrise. If you like Mechs, well oh boy do they have you covered, and if you don’t- well oh boy, you will when you’re done. This show makes the mech Genre, and Gundam entirely accessible, you need no prior knowledge, you don’t need to be a fan to enjoy it. The fights are really fun and have genuinely cool moments, as cool as it can get for a mech anyway. The characters and story are well written and everything just comes together to make a very well produced show- Good job Sunrise.

It doesn’t go without it’s own problems though. The first 20 ish episodes, until they get to earth, are not pointless, but have some pacing issues, as well as low stakes. There are threats and people die, but you never feel that scared or intense. Then towards the end of season one, the show kicks into high gear. To counteract this slow start, the series has a phenomenal season two that I genuinely believe everyone should watch, as it’s a perfect example of character drama done exceptionally well.

The series is comprised of two seasons of 25 episodes each, totaling a measly (if you’re a big boy or girl) 50 episodes. There is several related forms of media, nothing worth mentioning though, for more Gundam, you’re better off watching other series from the franchise.

If I can only force you to watch one, please go out and watch Iron Blooded Orphans. To me, it’s 9- pushing a 10/10 series, with a undeniably slow start, but a fantastic heart felt, emotional ending.

So that’s it from me guys. Thanks for taking the time to read the ramblings of a mad man like me, but I hope this gives some people some ideas on where to go next or what they can watch now. If you enjoyed, make sure to follow me for more discussions and lists and whatever else anime related. If you have any advice, or want to discuss something with me, go ahead let me know, other than that- Leave, go outside, get some fresh air after reading all that.

[swtorpadawan]

Left Behind

11 ATC Apalis Coast Alderaan

 Kira Carsen glared daggers at the smug Alderaanian noble. Jharkus Thul, the so-called ‘Wolf Baron’, (What a dumb nickname!) had just laid out his ‘proposal’ to Kira, her partner, Jedi Knight Corellan Halcyon, and to Duke Charles Organa. The two Jedi and the leader of House Organa were standing in a Thul field base – really a converted barn – just a few kilometers south of Castle Organa, having fought off an ambush by House Thul moments earlier at what was supposed to be a peaceful negotiation.

Small chance of that. Kira thought. House Thul is aligned with the Sith Empire. No way they can be trusted to bargain in good faith.    

Thul had decided that Corellan was effectively the lynchpin in Organa’s defenses at the moment. (He was probably right about that.) The Baron had therefore demanded that the Jedi Knight, who – with Kira’s help – had already fought off two attacks against Organa’s forces and had liberated the fabled ‘Spears of Organa’ besides, surrender himself in return for the release of three hundred forty-eight of Organa’s citizens who had been taken hostage by House Thul. He’d promised that he would not harm the Jedi Knight; that he would simply ransom Corellan back to the Republic after the Baron finished crushing House Organa. Likewise, he’d promised that he’d execute all the prisoners if Corellan refused the offer.

Now Kira watched as Corellan regarded the Baron with his cool, thousand-meter stare, his pale blue-grey eyes scrutinizing their foe unflinchingly.

You could cut through the tension in this room with a lightsaber. Kira thought. Any second now, she was certain, Corellan would give Kira the signal and they would attack. They’d dispatch the last of Thul’s flunkies, then they’d take the Baron prisoner and figure out a way to save the hostages. Maybe they’d barter the Baron back in return, or maybe they’d have to go charging in to wherever Thul was holding the hostages. Whatever it took. That was their motto. And Kira knew she would stand by Corellan’s side no matter what.

Any second now…

Instead, Corellan slowly unclipped both his lightsabers from his belt, then turned and handed them both to Kira. The Padawan blinked up at her master in confusion.

“Kira. Take these and head back to the ship. Contact the council so they know what’s happened, and then await further instructions.”

Kira’s confusion turned to sheer disbelief. “What?”

Corellan turned back to the Baron, still holding his weapons out to Kira. “I accept your terms, Baron Thul. Release the hostages.”

Duke Organa turned to the Jedi Knight with a grateful expression. “You will not be forgotten, Master Jedi. I swear it.”

“Corellan, no!” Kira cried out in alarm. “We can still beat him.”

Corellan turned back to his Padawan, his eyes softening. “Yes, we could, Kira. But we wouldn’t be able to save the hostages in time. The price is far too high.”  

“They’ll kill you.”

Corellan shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. And even if he might, it’s a chance I’ll have to take. But the council needs to know the status of the mission so they can make contingency plans. That has to be the priority.”

“I can’t just leave you behind!” Kira exclaimed. The Jedi padawan fought down a surge of panic she felt in her heart. This was Corellan. This was the toughest hero she’d ever met, and the best lightsaber duelist among his generation of Jedi. They’d already saved four entire planets together – including the untold billions of people on Coruscant. With Darth Angral still on the run, the whole galaxy needed him right now.

Kira needed him right now.

He promised he’d protect me from the Sith. She thought bitterly. He’s my…. He’s Corellan.

Corellan’s pale blue eyes met Kira’s own deep blues squarely. His gaze was gentle but firm. Just like he was.

“You have to. Please, Kira.” Corellan pleaded softly.

So many things left unspoken in those five words. So many emotions that neither of them had dared to acknowledge. It was almost overwhelming.

Kira swallowed. Reluctantly, she finally reached out and accepted his twin lightsabers. She turned back towards the Wolf Baron, glaring at him again.

“I’m holding you responsible for what happens to him.” Every word was pointed like a threat.

The Baron, heedless of the danger he was in, merely scoffed dismissively. “I am a man of my word, girl.”  

Kira’s eyes narrowed, but she realized it was pointless to push any further with Thul. She turned back to Corellan, not trusting herself to speak again. The two Jedi exchanged one final, fleeting look, then Kira forced herself to turn away.

She walked out of the building and back in the direction of the spaceport, feeling her heart break with every step.  

  Two hours later, Kira was still pacing around the ship anxiously. She’d sent a quickly composed report to the Council about what had happened. Maybe they were sitting around the table in their chambers, debating their next course of action. Maybe they were all meditating on the dilemma, seeking guidance through the Force.

Maybe they should all get off their collective butts and do something.    

Kira let out a slow exhale, closing her eyes and pressing her hands together, and using one of the exercises she’d learned from the Jedi to restore some semblance of calm. She knew she shouldn’t be so hard on the Council. After all, they’d let her stay with Corellan on his mission even after her past as a Sith was revealed. She wondered if Master Kiwiiks was even back on Tython yet. She’d been so weakened by her experience on Tatooine… Kira worried about her old Master.

And now she was worried even more about her new one.

Teeseven had tried to get her to meditate, but she couldn’t focus. Corellan… he meant too much to her.  

She was about to mutter ‘kriff it’ and to run back out there by herself when her holo-communicator chimed.

Pressing the receive button, Kira felt an immense sense of relief when she saw a projection of Corellan smiling up at her. His robes looked a bit worse for wear –he had clearly been fighting – but he looked otherwise unhurt.

“Where have you been?” Kira blurted out before he could speak. Her cheeks reddened a bit at her own reaction.    

Corellan raised an eyebrow in bemusement but didn’t press. “Sorry, Kira. I couldn’t get to a transmitter until now.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“The Organa prisoners. When they heard I had turned myself in for them, they attacked the Thul troops and released me. Then we flanked Thul’s invasion force from behind. I managed well enough with a vibroblade until I could down a Sith carrying a lightsaber. I started using that.” He paused. “The battle’s over. Organa troops captured the Wolf Baron, his Sith support is gone and his remaining Thul soldiers are either being rounded up or they’re fleeing on foot into the wilderness.”

“House Organa is safe.”    

Kira bit her lip, happy that he was alright but also disappointed that she had missed the excitement, and that she hadn’t been at his side in the fight. It stung deeper than she thought it could.

“Oh.” She said finally.

“Duke Organa has invited all three of us – you, me and Tee-seven – to a ball at the castle tonight.” He smiled. “We’re the guests of honor. I don’t think Master Orgus would begrudge us a few hours of relaxation before we go find him.”

Kira’s eyebrows rose. The most infuriatingly driven man she had ever met had just asked her to a dance.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” She blurted out awkwardly.

Corellan waved his hand. “The Duke is taking care of all that. He’s having his royal tailors make a suit for me… and a gown for you.”

Kira felt her cheeks redden again. “A gown, huh?” she swallowed.

He nodded. “You and Teeseven should meet me at the Palace, alright? You and I need to get fitted, and we can get Tee cleaned up as well.”

“Right. We’re on our way.” She nodded, her confidence reemerging. “I’m not gonna miss a party.”

“Great. And Kira?”

“Mmm?”

Remember my lightsabers.”

Kira smirked at that. “Sure thing, tough guy.”

16 ATC Darth Marr’s flagship Wild Space

 “We’re free and clear… but it’s not looking good out here!” Kira shouted as the Defender disembarked from the Imperial destroyer.

All around them, the allied task force was being pulverized by the massive enemy fleet. Neither the Republic nor Sith warships seemed able to mount an effective response. As they had with Marr’s Terminus, these mysterious wild spacers were pounding through their shields, then launching boarding pods with battle droids were wrecking destruction on the ships’ internal systems.

It was a losing fight for the allies. Made even worse by the fact that with the airlock to Marr’s ship crushed, they’d been forced to leave Jedi Master Corellan Halcyon, the Hero of Tython and the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order, alone aboard the destroyer.

He was also Kira’s fiancée, but she didn’t think telling their attackers that would help anyone.  

“If you see an opening to escape, take it.” Corellan’s level voice came through their communicator. “Someone has to make it back to the Republic.”

A surge of panic rose in Kira’s heart. Years of experience and training had left her far more grounded and disciplined than she’d been as a Padawan. But the thought of leaving Corellan behind in the middle of all this still was as overwhelming to her now as it had been years prior.  

“I – WE can’t just leave you behind!” she exclaimed, catching herself. Kira could feel Doc and Teeseven looking at her for direction on the bridge of their Defender, but that wasn’t something she cared about right now.

Corellan’s voice was gentle but firm, just like he was.

“You have to. Please, Kira.”

The words were a plea. Kira knew that. And she could feel the meaning behind them through their Force bond; all the many emotions that there was no time to give a voice to.

Kira’s eyes pressed closed for a moment. It was almost overwhelming.

“All right… but you’d better be right behind us. May the Force be with you, Master.”

Kira quickly plotted a course away from the battle, then hit the emergency jumper. The stars outside the ship streaked as they entered hyperspace.

She sat back and exhaled slowly, finding no peace in it. Somewhere, Corellan was fighting a battle, and Kira wasn’t by his side.

He’s the Hero of Tython. Kira tried to tell herself. He’s the Battlemaster of the Jedi Order. The conqueror of the Sith Emperor. The champion of the Galactic Republic. The greatest warrior this galaxy has to offer. He’ll find a way back to us. Back to me.

“Come back to me, tough guy.” She whispered.

Then why did every light year of distance they put between themselves and the battle feel like her heart was breaking over and over again….

[fyeahwonderbat]

In the Middle of a Broken Constellation - Pt. 15

Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: T / 14A Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice Previous Chapter: <- Chapter 14 

Author’s Note: This chapter is a little late because I am trying to figure out what direction to take this all in. Originally, I planned for a serious thriller of a story, but it doesn’t seem like that appeals to many readers. I worry that if I don’t have obvious WonderBat moments in most chapters, most WonderBat fans aren’t interested in the build-up of this plot. If I could get some feedback on this chapter/story, that’d be great. If people don’t like it, I can just abandon it, but I want to know what the consensus is. Thanks!

There was an itch at the back of her neck that she couldn’t seem to scratch. Diana had simmered in her fury since the night before and it made her feel like as though a rash was running over her body. Her so-called allies had spent the morning arguing with her about what they were supposed to do with Arthur’s trident, and how they should go about solving the mystery of it appearing suddenly in the back of Falcone’s shipping truck. The team she had collected to help Bruce suddenly turned against her when she arose that morning, with Dick’s words still ringing in her ears. “You’re here because you’re worried about Bruce, right? Let us worry about Aquaman.”

Couldn’t she be worried about more than one of her friends at the same time!?

As devastating as the sludge monster infestation had been, the situation had simmered down considerably after Bruce stopped fulfilling his role as Batman. However, once she had decided to move into Gotham and participate in a solution, more and more concerns kept popping up every day. She had confessed to Jason how overwhelming everything had become, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be excluded from anything. Perhaps finding Arthur and Barry would lead to helping Bruce, which was definitely an area of interest for her.

“Ah, I was just about to go looking for you,” said none other than the billionaire she’d been thinking of, surprising her as he stood in the open doors of the elevator at Wayne Tower. Diana hadn’t realized that she’d been so deep in thought, she’d nearly missed her chance to exit the car. As startled as she was to see him, Bruce looked undeniably smug to catch her off guard for a moment. “I almost thought you’d called in sick or something.”

“No,” she promised a little too quickly. Diana fixed her rose-colored dress despite its loose fit while Bruce joined her in the elevator. He pressed the button marked forty-two and watched the doors shut at a rather sluggish pace. It was when she tried to peek over at him did she recall the pair of glasses she’d brought with her. Staring down at her clutch as she held it tightly under her arm, she knew she’d want to bring them out as soon as they sat down in his office.

“Did you manage to get any sleep last night?” Bruce inquired, breaking the silence.

Looking over at him with a pleasant smile, Diana answered him honestly. “Actually, I did. Only a few hours, though.”

He released a hefty breath, looking much more flummoxed than he had yesterday when she’d returned from the hospital. “That’s more than I expected. I can’t imagine what you went through in there.” Bruce admitted softly.

Despite his genuine attempt at empathy, his words actually struck her deeply. He did know what that kind of battle was like – the ones where you feel powerless in the face of an unknown enemy, where any slip up could be the end of you. The Bruce Wayne she knew had so much more experience with these types of matters than he ever gave himself credit for, however, he could probably imagine exactly what she’d been through with one of his many adversaries from his rogue gallery. Hearing him speak with such a lack of awareness of his own life experience left her speechless for the rest of their time in the elevator.

Luckily, the ride to the forty-second floor was rather swift.

They stepped out of the car in sync with one another, each with their right foot first. There was a large desk for a pool of secretarial staff divided by a hallway, leading to an impressive pair of black doors that was only a few feet beyond them. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne.” A chorus of voices greeted him, and a wall of sound collided with Diana as they passed the group.

“Afternoon.” He answered them emotionlessly. Instead of devoting a moment of his time to his staff, Bruce walked with a noticeable impatience down the length of the hall. When his hand reached the doors, he threw them open as if he was tapping into the strength of the Batman. Diana felt the rush to enter his office and heard the doors close behind her just as much as she felt them. “Someone’s eager to get started.” She was compelled to tease his sudden forcefulness.

Then, she looked around his office with wide eyes. The motif of the floor-to-ceiling windows was carried throughout the building it seemed, from the lobby to Lucius’ conference room to Bruce’s personal space. The walls were decorated with spliced shelves in the shapes of shadowboxes, some containing books while some held cultured accessories. His desk was the same wooden color, a deep brown shade contrasting the brightness brought in by the natural light of the sun. It was a modern room that was particular cold if she focused on it for a moment too long. But that was very Bruce-like, she acknowledged.

To appear distant while trying to be progressive.

Diana strolled over to her seat in front of his desk, loving the echo she heard from her steps. Bruce noticed right away, and even dared to make a joke. “Glad to know you had another pair of heels at home to wear, after losing your shoes yesterday.”

It made her feel much more comfortable to hear him say something so ridiculous. “My belongings haven’t arrived yet so I had to make sure I had at least one more pair of shoes on hand. Although, I was more concerned about one of the heels breaking, not losing them at a hospital.”

“Well, let’s get through this report quickly then, so we can go out and get you some more.” Bruce suggested while he clicked away on his computer, most likely searching for the forms they’d need to fill out.

“Mr. Wayne,” Diana stopped him right there with a sharp pronunciation of his name, “I really don’t need you to buy me anything.”

His fingers froze over his keyboard. Slowly, he turned to look at her and she immediately recognized the challenge in his eyes. It appeared as though defiance was a natural trait for Bruce Wayne, no matter what he could or could not remember. As he spun his body to face her in his seat, he brought his palms together and clasped them tightly, presenting himself as a firm, unmoving boss. “I thought we agreed yesterday that your belongings would be replaced by the Wayne Corporation, as an apology for the horrible incident you endured yesterday.”

“We did,” she agreed easily enough. Sitting up straight, however, allowed her to emit a strikingly powerful air as well. “But after careful deliberation, I realized that if I accepted your offer, it could look like favoritism for your new hire and could create animosity between me and my peers.”

“Why? I’m not going to tell them.” Was the reply of the CEO.

“That’s not the point.”

“Look, Diana, we replace many people’s belongings here all the time. From company pens to affordable housing, I’ve given out a lot of money. After what you went through yesterday, I doubt anyone would accuse you of taking advantage of the company if we offered you shoes in exchange for you not suing us over your first day on the job. Without any kind of insurance, there a lot of people who would do much worse than by taking our kindhearted gesture of a trip to a boutique--”

“But it’s not ‘we’.” Diana pointed out.

“What?” Unafraid to look unpolished, his expression of confusion shifted the entire look of his face.

Refusing to back down, she pressed on. “It’s not ‘we’, Mr. Wayne. It’s you. You’re offering me this kindhearted gesture verbally.”

Again, just as aloof as a CEO should not be, he answered, “So?”

It infuriated Diana to no end that he could be so full of himself whenever it best suited him. That itchy feeling crawled up her spines and rushed over her shoulders, forcing her to sit up straight to lessen the sensation. “There is most definitely a conflict of interests, then!”

There was an impenetrable pause after she shouted at him, so obvious that it made her bite back saying anything else. It was embarrassing that he managed to get a rise out of her over something she believed shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place. His ability to rile her up was yet another facet of his personality that was forever a part of him. What she wouldn’t give to spar with him in that moment!

As if he heard her internal wish, Bruce arose from his seat and walked around the length of his desk to meet her. He sat himself down in the seat next to her, silently observing her as he moved. It took him a moment too long to speak, in her opinion, when he finally responded to her claim. “I respect you, Diana.”

Unprepared for his sincerity, she didn’t have a response ready for him.

So, he continued. “I can appreciate how aware you are of your situation here, but you have to understand something: I’m not asking you for permission here.” “Mr. Wayne—!”

“Were you on company time when you lost your shoes? Were you doing something that pertained to your job here? Were you put in harm’s way while fulfilling your role as the Community Outreach Specialist for the Wayne Foundation? Yes? Then I have every right as both your boss’ boss and the man who funds that hospital more than anyone else in the world to do what I want. Now, you can either come with me and pick out a specific pair of shoes or trust my judgment, even though I do not claim to be a fashion expert. You don’t want me wasting hundreds of dollars on ugly heels, do you?”

For a few moments, she sat in awe of his argument. Then, she regained her consciousness and spat out, “You are the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

“Only when I need to be.” He smirked at her, proud of himself.

Eager to deflate him, she muttered, “I highly doubt that.”

Bruce hadn’t expected that response and nearly expressed his shock with a gaping mouth. Luckily for him, he caught himself before looking like a total fool, ready to blurt out the next obnoxious thing that came to mind. “If I wrote up a contract and we signed something physical, would that make you feel better?”

“It would make me feel ridiculous but much less ridiculous than if I simply agreed to your words.” She explained.

“Great,” Bruce sighed and immediately spun his computer screen around on his desk. Grabbing his wireless keyboard, he sat back in his seat, opened an empty document that was drawn up with a contract-like template, then began filling in the blanks with the terms they’d set. “I, Bruce Wayne, agree to replace the missing belongings of Diana Prince. Said belongings were damaged and have gone missing after an incident that occurred yesterday afternoon at Gotham General Hospital. The list of items to be replaced includes one pair of woman’s heels, one woman’s handbag, one cellphone…” “One set of car keys,” Diana added, trying her hardest not to laugh. She realized she had lied when she said it would feel less ridiculous to have a physical copy of their agreement. It felt like they were teenagers that need the law to act as their parents, ready to intervene if things became obscure.

With a brow arched, he turned to her and asked specifically, “How many keys need to be replaced?” Unable to hide her awkwardness, Diana accidentally chastised him personally. “Bruce!”

He didn’t appear disappointed by her usage of his name. Instead, he looked as though he was relieved to know she found the entire situation as hilarious as he did. “And one set of car keys. It is the responsibility of Mr. Wayne to provide transportation to and from any shops visited, as well as any meal that is consumed whilst shopping. When Miss Prince is satisfied with the purchases, Mr. Wayne is to escort her home.”

Diana leaned over the armrest of her chair. It was her turn to add her own legalities to the contract since her name would be on it too. Making sure she spoke with proper articulation, she stated, “Should Mr. Wayne fail to fulfill any of his obligations, he must provide Miss Prince with one week of paid vacation to any destination she chooses, all expenses paid.”

“What? What happened to being too virtuous to take any money from me?” Bruce complained immediately, indignation heard in his tone.

“A contract has clauses, you know. I’m merely protecting myself in our agreement.” She claimed, all while visibly fighting off the urge to smile. After the way he made her feel when he fought her polite refusal of his gift, it was nice to turn things around on him.

That would only last a moment or two, however. Typing furiously, Bruce read aloud what his clause would say in their contract. “Should Miss Prince refuse a replacement for all of her belongs, the transportation to and from any shops visited, the meal consumed whilst shopping and/or the escort to her home, Miss Prince will be required to…attend the 37th Martha Wayne Charity Auction.”

Instantly, Diana cocked her head to one side. “That doesn’t sound at all like a punishment.”

“Trust me,” Bruce scoffed as he typed away. “It is.”

“When is it?”

“Next weekend.”

“Alright, I don’t have any plans.” Diana accepted the terms, sliding back into a proper seat. Having attended many galas and high society parties in her day, she knew that some could be rather mundane, but it wasn’t something she couldn’t survive.

Whereas Bruce would most likely suffer internally for years if she bested him and managed to get a free vacation out of their inane contract.

“By signing below, both parties indicate that they have read, reviewed and agree to the terms of this contract.” Bruce declared. Once he was finished typing, he stood up, returned his keyboard to his desk, and signed his signature on the touch screen of his computer. Following his example, Diana arose from her chair and did the same. Since the computer was positioned off to the side, she was forced to lean forward and cross over his personal space in order to reach the screen. She scribbled her name as quick as can be before looking up at him, shooting him a confident grin of her own.

But when she met his gaze, she didn’t see the jovial man she had been teasing a moment ago. The confidence that radiated off of him was something she’d seen before, in meetings where he would get his way, in moments where he could put down even the strongest Metahumans in the Justice League. She moved carefully so as to preserve the image in her mind, as it encouraged her to see the version of Bruce Wayne she was trying to save. The Batman existed inside of him even if she couldn’t reach him directly.

But this version of him, the one she would be spending her day with, had the charms of Bruce that she wasn’t always privy to.

Face to face, she saw a glint in his eyes that was mischievous, no matter how fleeting it was. He cleared his throat and offered her his hand, but Diana didn’t take it right away. She couldn’t help but feel like she was searching more, like she was greedy for… something. Everything she was doing – everything she had done with her civilian life and all of her resources as Wonder Woman – was all geared towards this enigma of a man. Having him next to her, alone, where she could truly marvel at the person he was beneath the Kevlar and the trickery was worth more than any pair of shoes they’d find at the mall.

And it made her feel flush in a way she didn’t dare acknowledge while standing with him in his office.

Carefully, she shook his hand and offered a cordially smile. Then, she said. “Before we can move on to fulfilling the promises of the contract, we have a report to fill out first, right?”

Bruce withdrew his hand and stomped around his desk in the blink of an eye. The absence of his presence was felt right away, but it was the coldness of his answer that stood out to her. “Yes, of course.” He dropped into his seat, fixated himself with his computer and began setting up the report file. It didn’t shock her to see him retreat into himself, but Diana noticed right away that it wasn’t such a harsh separation as she was used to with him.

Maybe, once the old Bruce returned to her, some of these softer traits of his would remain.

Maybe.

[justtextmeoppa]

❝ You could have told me ❞

Plot: You and Chanyeol are best friend, he loves you and you love him, but both are unware of each other feelings. 

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader 

Words count: 3,8k+ 

Genre: College!Au / A bit of angst / Fluff 

For anon, I hope you like it! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner! 

Your parents warned you that college years would be the toughest, perhaps even more so than high school. But you had always underestimated their continued remark on how much your life would have undergone a drastic change once away from home and with the weight of the studies on the shoulders.  

They were right, after three years you could even say you didn't recognize yourself. Marked dark circles, social life practically absent and the continuous pounding overwhelming reminder of the professors to give the best.  

Yet there was a consolation in all that, in all that long and draining race on the roller coaster.  

Park Chanyeol.  

The only person who can make any problem disappear from your mind. He, his contagious smile almost was a magnet and his Yoda ears, that you loved caressing during movie nights while he rested his head on your legs, seeking peace after a tiring day.  

The thought that Chanyeol, in the years of high school, was only your weird seat partner to which you paid little attention always made you smile; because you would never have believed that once in college your friendship would become so fundamental to you.  

Perhaps for you, as you had understood for some time now, it was something more than a friendship, but you never found the courage to talk him about it. You were so deeply in need of his presence in your life, that the fear of losing him for a silly thing - even if you knew that your feelings weren't silly - surpassed anything else.  

A little sighed crashed indeed against your teeth, while you clenched them in prey to a small hysterical crisis because of your imminent and frightening test. Your mind didn't cooperate, too saturated with information and the only thing you could do was sigh, try to snatch your hair and throw your head backward by fixing the ceiling of your room.  

Someone knocked on your door and you knew it couldn't be your roommate because she was out with his boyfriend to celebrate you didn't know what. With a grunt, you got up from the chair and you were ready to assault anyone who had the courage to disturb you, but all the anger and fatigue vanished instantly as the giant figure of Chanyeol hid you completely, since in comparison to him you were a little dwarf.  

"Dress up, we go out, move." He said with his deep voice, without hiding the huge grin that showed his dimples on the sides of his mouth. That smile was for years your salvation, although in the last period it was the cause of violent and sickening blows to your poor and little heart, where you found yourself bent in two because it was too much to hold. Too much perfection in your opinion.  

You watched him carefully and noticed that he was dressed oddly enough, a white shirt that perfectly showed his well-built torso and a pair of skinny jeans ripped in too many points, in your opinion. The only thing left to the randomness seemed to be his hair, perfectly messy and with the silvery locks that fell on his eyes and provoked a slight itch into your hands. How many times you moved them unconsciously and received a strange look in return, which you still couldn't decipher.  

"Channie, my tes--"  

"No test, stop it." He pushed you into your own room, overstepping you and going to your closet; "You have to get out of this hole, Y/N. You're literally freaking out and I'm not going to lose my best friend because of the study" You silenced while he started to look at your clothes despite you were the one with the most taste in dressing between the two.  

With a happy grin, while exasperated you were sitting on your bed to wait, he turned and had a dress for each hand. Clothes that you even forgot to own, too busy to have good grades to keep the scholarship.  

The one in his right hand was blue night, with a dizzying neckline on his back and maybe even fit you again. In that left, he had something simpler, suited to the temperature of those days and spring that was now doing his course perfectly.  

"Whi--"  

"White, it'd be better." He murmured for you and you smiled, still struck by how he could read your mind without even looking at you.  

You touched the light fabric of the white dress, after getting up and approaching him, lifting on your toes and brushing his cheek with your lips. He stiffened to that contact and closed his eyes, while you unaware of everything walked away and went to hide in the bathroom to be able to dress.  

Chanyeol relaxed, taking a deep breath and passing a hand through his silver hair. He could no longer understand how you could be so blind as not to see how completely he was in love with you, but his plan for that evening was trying to make you understand. Without realizing that maybe it wasn't the better than the plans.  

~ ~

The ticking of your heels was the only thing you could hear at the time, while you kept walking back and forth in the women's bathroom. You took refuge in that "room" just to be able to escape from the sickening scene that occurred to you once you came back from the bar counter with your friend.  

The right to try jealousy, the violent one that would also push you to say the worst things in the world, didn't fit in your strings; but seeing  Chanyeol caressing the hair of that girl, laughing at her bad jokes and flirting as if his life depended on it had given you nausea.  

And it was for that reason that you apologized, with a thread of voice, hiding in the bathroom by those who were now fifteen minutes. You didn't dare to face that scene and you felt stupid while you knew it might happen.  

Chanyeol was a beautiful guy, funny though a bit odd and you knew everyone was going crazy for him, not just the girls. You were accustomed to him passing through the halls to the classrooms under the dreamy looks of the people, especially girls but he had never shown any interest in those years.  

Perhaps that was the evening when the "need of sex" for Chanyeol woke up or simply had found the love of his life, you couldn't know but now you knew that you would prefer to stay in your room to go crazy on books.  

Someone started knocking towards the twenty minutes and signing you opened the door, apologizing with the girl who with fury moved you and locked you out of the bathroom; your only lifeline.  

With uncertain pace, you would turn the small corridor that took you to the baths and that scene will disgust you even more, because they were too close, too intimate and her hands that kept moving along his arm annoyed you.  

The decision to ignore them and get out of the bar was sudden, but when the cold air of the night struck your skin slightly sweaty you shivered, starting to walk in the direction of the campus. You wanted to erase those images from your mind because they threatened to make you collapse even before you came to your room.  

And yet the blame was yours too. You never found the courage to confess what you were feeling for him, how important he was and stupidly you had hidden that problem in a small part of your mind. It was also your fault if he was now with a girl; even if you were convinced that even with your confession, things between you two wouldn't have changed.  

He behaved in the same way with anyone, there had never been signs that he liked you and it was also for that reason that you had desisted all the time.  

You started rubbing your hands on your arms, trying to chase down the chills that had begun to make you tremble, observing the deserted streets and trying not to get intimidated by the spooky aspect that the city assumed at night. Chanyeol was always with you, maybe that's why you never felt fear during your night walks.  

"Y/N! Hey, Stop!"  

His deep voice made you wince, but you kept walking pretending not to hear it. Because not, you didn't want to see his stupid face, his eyes lightly shiny because of the alcohol you both had either drunk or felt the smell of that girl onto his clothes because of the proximity. No, you just wanted to leave. Immediately a firm grip squeezed on your wrist and you stopped, sighing heavily and chasing back the lump that had formed in your throat when you had heard his voice.  

"What's going on..? Aren't you okay? You weren't there anymore and I was scared to death, Y/N. "  

Your absence of response made him worry even more, so he made you turn and you found yourself a few inches from his face. He leaned towards you, observing your features carefully and began to touch your arms with his big hands, provoking you the umpteenth wave of shivers and this time not for the cold.  

"Y/N.. I'm going to get you home, you're bloody pale. You had to tell me you weren't feeling well; " he began to say, surrounding your shoulders with his arm, moving you towards him; "And the next time you decide to disappear, please.. Tell me. I was going to have a panic attack."  

His chest greeted your face and you were too emptied of every emotion to fight his gestures, his sweetness, so you let yourself be clenched and his arm was immediately around your waist, erasing any kind of space that was between you two. His scent pierced your nostrils and made your head to spin slightly, while your heart started running, beating more and more violently that it seemed to want to snatch your rib cage and escape.  

"Chanyeol, enough.. "  

He didn't hear you, but your voice was too weak anyway.  

"Chanyeol, stop it." Your voice rose by a few octaves and with a huge effort you put your hands on his chest and pushed him away, caught him by surprise. He loosened the grip on your waist but he didn't let you go, he couldn't do it especially after seeing your expression. Your face was lowered but he still managed to glimpse something shine on your cheek and soon after he realized that you were crying, feeling the concerning increase even more.  

Without thinking he cupped your cheek in his hand and lifted your face, which provoked the umpteenth gagging that you would hunt back. You couldn't look at those eyes, read the concern in them and pretend that everything was perfect. Nothing was perfect and you were slowly crashing in front of him, under that touch that many times had cured your wounds.  

"Why are you crying? Y/N, what's going on? "  

"Go to that chick and let me go home, please. I'm tired. "  

Your tone made him buckle an eyebrow, dazed by the way you were reacting and talking. Yet he didn't leave the grip on your face, which became stronger but never lost that sweetness that you could perceive. His hand trembled but his gaze was serious, his jaw was clenched and there was a strange light in his eyes.  

"What's wrong with you?"  

"Go Chanyeol, go back inside, have fun and let me leave.. Let me go. " It was stupid to react like this, but you couldn't think straight at that moment and when his expression passed from worried to hurt, the guilt began to eat you slowly.  

Without knowing how you could get rid of the grip of his arm around your waist, making two steps back and seeing him clench his fists along his hips, while his expression became increasingly harsh and dark.  

"Tell me why you're acting like that."  

"Why you're acting like that Chanyeol? You've always said you hate people who try hitting shamelessly on you without even knowing you. Why? "  

"Fuck, I was just trying to make you jealous!"  

That phrase had the power to suck all the air from your lungs, while a dull pain began to breakdown every single conviction you had ever had.  

"What should I do Y/N, to let you understand?? What? I asked for advice to anyone, Minseok and Junmyeon Hyung kept saying I had to give up because you... You're too focused on yourself. But how could I? " He began to say, trying to keep calm but anger had begun to boil in him and for a second you feared him because you had never seen Chanyeol reduced in that state; "How could I ignore what I was feeling? What I feel. And tonight I thought that if maybe.. Maybe if I made you jealous, you'd have noticed me. Now, why the fuck are you acting like this? Tell me! "  

Some people out of the bar turned to you two, curious to see what was going on and you saw even the girl with whom he had tried to make you jealous.  

And now it was your turn to get angry, because you felt so inferior to that girl because she was getting the attention you've been craved for months, realizing how wrong he was.  

"You could have told me."  

"Hypocrisy is not a good thing." Murmured a voice in the shadows and your roommate, one of the people you trusted most, lingered under a street lamp while the color disappeared completely from your face. "Tell him that he could confess his feelings is hypocritical, Y/N... Because you're the first that has long kept him hidden that you are in love with him."  

You smiled bitterly, making another two steps backward while the circle that had formed around you whispered something that you didn't understand. You were mad at her for saying what you confided her so openly, but you were more upset with yourself because she was right.  

The most hypocritical of all was you.  

"Y/N.."  

"Yes, I'm hypocritical. I kept hiding for more than a year that I love you because I was scared. Ironic no?? If I had the courage to tell you everything, maybe we wouldn't be at this point. " Your voice broke in half a sentence, while you were trying to catch your breath; "But you.. You don't realize how I felt about seeing you with that girl. You don't realize how I felt. Inferior to her. I will have been a coward, but at least I have never tried to hurt you Chanyeol.. Because, believe me, trying to make me jealous.. It was a low blow. "  

Chanyeol at your side remained quiet, too upset by how the events had turned to be able to say something, while you watched him for a handful of seconds. You would have wanted, with your lips, to erase the pain that had turned its lines in the last minutes but without saying anything else you turned and started to walk in the direction of the campus.  

No one followed you and a sense of melancholy began to surround you, catching you into his trap. You were alone when the only thing you wanted at the time was hiding into his arms and forgetting the world.  

~ ~

It had been four days since the night of the "confession" and you had completely ignored your roommate, still furious with her being stepped into something that didn't regard her. Chanyeol, he was a different case. He hadn't looked for you, you hadn't seen him in class and every time you saw him in the hallway he turned and disappeared into the crowd. He wanted to avoid you and let him do it, because any way you weren't the only one with a huge amount of information to digest.  

The lessons passed quickly and without realizing you found yourself wandering the streets of the city, ignoring the duty to study and enjoying the day. You wanted to distract yourself and shopping was the best solution.  

Your gaze rested on a showcase and on an old-fashioned watch, so you entered and looking around you realized that that watch was the only thing that had really aroused your attention.  

You bought it without even thinking that you should have eat ramen for more than three months to return the expense, thanking the clerk and leaving with a mood lighter than usual.  

"You just bought a male watch, Y/N? I didn't know you had some taste. "  

"Hello, Minseok-ssi.." You bowed your head as a sign of respect and greeting, while Minseok's baby face softened and he gave you a slight pat on the shoulder.  

"Stop with formalities, we've known each other for years now."  

"But we've never really been friends."  

"You reject anyone who is not Chanyeol, Y/N." He remarked and smiled amused, while began to walk with you to the campus to return to the boring life of the student.  

"I never realized it, actually..."  

"We can always fix it. And let me tell you something, please talk to Chanyeol because I can't stand him anymore. "  

His statement caught you by surprise and you stopped, forcing him to stop and you watched him carefully trying to figure out what he was referring to. You nervously run your hand through your hair, biting your bottom lip and feeling the clock's packet suddenly becoming heavy.  

You had bought a male watch because the only thing you imagined seeing it was that on Chanyeol's wrist it would have been perfect.  

"Minseok, it's he who ignores me."  

"WHAT?!?!?!"  

"That is, I'm letting him do it, but every time he sees me change direction and disappears..."  

"Aish, that little brat." He swore, while he grasped your wrist and started running towards the campus and you were forced to run behind him, feeling the fatigue after even a few seconds.  

"Minseok, I don't work on my body like you, I'm dying, slow down!!!"  

"We can’t, try to hold on!" He yelled at you and you grunted, trying to keep his pace despite the fatigue.  

After not even ten minutes you were in the male area of the dorms and you could understand Minseok's plan, starting to tug him hoping to free your wrist from his grip.  

"No, Minseok.. please.. "  

"This story has to end or I swear I'll become a murdered. I can't stand it anymore Y/N, it's my mental sanity that we're talking about!! "  

You sighed and let yourself be dragged without objecting, finding yourself in the middle of their room after even a few minutes.  

Chanyeol wasn't there and this offered you a few minutes to think about what to tell him because it was all so sudden and your mind seemed like atrophied from the idea of really dealing with him.  

"Hyung I went to buy a--"  

"Goodbye." It was the only thing Minseok said before he crossed his friend and locked him in the room with you, with the sound of the key that turned into the patch.  

You began to rock on your heels, trying to ignore Chanyeol but his gaze wandered on you, from time to time, and the redness on your cheeks began to become more intense at every second that passed.  

"Y/N.."  

"No, wait." You blocked him and finally found the courage to look him in the eye, having to just bend you face backward because he was too tall. "Let me talk first. I was a fool and I realize it but.. I was afraid to lose you. You're my best friend, and I couldn't afford to lose you. You understand? You're sweet, funny and you always make me laugh. You're the only one who understands me and even protects me from myself.. Can you imagine my life as it would become if you had decided to cut our friendship once discovered what I feel?? "  

"You deduced that I would have wanted to cut off everything.. Who gave you permission to do it? " He asked you and the redness, because of the embarrassment, increased. "You have decided in my place, Y/N. Without knowing that my life would be a hell without you. And that I love you. I love you from our second year of high School, Y/N. "  

"W-what..?"  

That confession made you even more upset than the one where he had admitted that he had tried to make you jealous, while your heart had decided that beating frantically was the best solution at the time.  

He filled the distance that separated you and towered upon you, clasping your hands in his with a delicacy that made you tremble from head to toe.  

"You never wondered why I was always trying to stay close to you, even if we weren't friends? Because I couldn't stay away, it was like stopping breathing. God this is really cringy.. " He hummed and smiled embarrassed, raising your hands and starting gently to kiss the knuckles of your hands. A simple contact that provoked violent shivers that ran down your spine.  

"And I was stupid a few nights ago. I thought it was the best thing, Y/N.. I'm a jerk, I'm sorry. "  

"The blame is also mine.. But God, I wanted to slap her. "  

"You're jealous, aren't you?" He whispered starting to bend towards you and you hold your breath, trying to calm the violent beat of your heart without good results.  

But he surprised you because he placed his lips on your forehead and without saying anything he left the grip on your hands and surrounded your waist with both arms, hiding you totally. He inspired the scent of your shampoo, which he had always loved, while you relished that moment, so perfect to seem almost surreal.  

"Can you become my girlfriend or do I still have to court you?" He asked after a few moments and you just moved your head, raising your gaze and meeting his amused grin.  

"Honestly?"  

He nodded, transforming his smirk into one of his smiles, the big and luminous and that could dissolve even the iciest heart of all.  

"I have no patience to let you court me because I already love you, so.."  

"So you're my girlfriend."  

"I would say yes." You confirmed him and he hid his face in your hair, lifting you and starting to turn on himself.  

From behind the door, you heard a little chorus of "Hallelujah" and you burst into laughter hiding your face against his chest, while he was blocking and noticing the package you had thrown on the bed before his arrival. He'll ignore his friends outside the door and always holding you in his arms picked up the package, show it in front of your eyes.  

"Oh.. It's for you. I saw it and thought it was perfect for you.. "  

"You're already spoiling me, Y/N."  

"I'm your girlfriend, I can."

[jupitermelichios]

Thoughts on Stranger Things 2

Spoilers below the cut. Warning that this is very much a critique. If you liked the show and don’t want to read about someone disliking it, this isn’t for you.

First thing, why is there a season 2? Season 1 ended on a good ‘happy ending with a sting in the tail’ note. It was a cliffhanger in the proud tradition of twilight zone episodes and portmanteau horror movies. It didn’t need resolving because leaving it open is what makes it a horror story.

Steve says that him and Nancy have spent ‘a stupid number of days’ working on their Halloween costumes. They don’t wear them to the Halloween party, or at any other time. Everyone else at the party has a costume. Were the wardrobe department on strike? Were their costumes just ‘people wearing normal clothes’?

Three love triangles. Three. In a nine-episode show about killing monsters, they somehow felt they needed three goddamn hereto love-triangles. No one even likes that fucking trope okay?! Either you have kill off one of the dudes or make them an asshole, or pull a full-on Stephanie Meyer and have one of them marry a baby! And I’m refusing to give them any points just for not having Dustin marry a baby.

What purpose does Max serve, exactly? Someone somewhere explain her existence in this show without using the words love triangle. She’s a cool character, I like her, but I like her isn’t justification for adding another character into a show which already struggled in season 1 to give enough airtime to the characters it has. Nothing about the show would change if she wasn’t there, except that I would like Mike Wheeler a whole lot more.

On that subject, why is Lucas in the show? I mean, I know why. He’s there to be the black one, but someone explain why Dustin, Will and Mike all had to be white? Lucas gets a storyline this season, but it’s basically entirely disposable and separate from the main story, and he didn’t even get that in the first season. I bet the Duffer Brothers thought they were hilarious when they wrote that line Lucas has about not wanting to be the token black ghostbuster, apparently completely obvious to the fact that they made him the token black demagorgen slayer.

Someone on the writing team thinks Charlie Heaton is super hot, and I’m deeply confused by this. I mean you do you, but there’s more than one line which suggests they think he is specifically conventionally attractive, which is just weird.

I came out of season 1 suspecting that the Duffer Brothers hate women. I came out of season 2 certain of it. There are no positive female relationships in this show. None. Barb and Nancy argue all the time about Nancy wanting to spend all her time with Steve, which would be okay as a minor plot point, but then you look around the show and realise that theirs is the most positive female relationship in this. Nancy’s relationship with her mother is strained, she seems to have no genuine female friends, El hates Max for no god-damned reason (more on that later), El’s aunt rats her out to the police, her sister is a murderer, and Joyce... never interacts with another woman outside of life-or-death situations. She has no friends, no relatives, she barely speaks to Nancy and gets maybe three seconds interaction with El. The male characters all have positive relationships with other men (even Hopper gets a warrior bonds between men moment with Bob). But apparently women can’t spend time together socially, because all that sexual jealousy gets in the way.

That sexual jealousy. I’ve seen so many posts on this site saying anyone who ships the kids is an evil pervert going straight to hell, apparently not noticing that the fucking film-makers are doing it. Have this season’s plot points can be resolved down to ‘two of the pre-teens want to fuck’. El is not only rude and dismissive to Max, she actually attacks her with her powers because she had a conversation with Mike. Not making out with him, not Mike choosing Max over her, having a barely civil conversation which was mainly about the fact that Mike irrationally hates Max for daring to be a girl. Mike interacting with another girl even just to tell them he hates them is too much for El’s female sexual jealousy what all women have towards other women to handle. That whole relationship just turned my stomach to be honest, it was like every toxic trope about women Hollywood has mashed together into two interactions. I would genuinely rather we had stuck to only having 3 female characters than have the Duffer Brother’s hatred of women shoved in my face like that. It was nearly enough to make me stop watching. If the show had been longer than 9 episodes, I probably would have done.

Oh and then there’s Mike. Mike’s reactions are probably pretty common among traumatised kids who lack a support network, but the thing is, this is TV, and the show isn’t about showing how trauma affects pre-teens. If it was, I would have no issues about Mike’s behaviour. But this is a show about kids nearly getting eaten by monsters, and in order for that to hold our attention for 9 hours, we need to care about the kids. Even if it might be unrealistic, we need to see the kids being nice, so we can build up an emotional attachment to them. Mike has one very brief scene with Will, where he’s offering support and comfort. But that’s it. Apart from that he’s a dick to his friends, he’s a monumental dick to Max, he’s a dick to Hopper... he’s pretty unrelentingly unlikeable for 9 hours, which had the result that by the end I honestly didn’t care if he died or not. I cared more about Bob, who might as well have been wearing a red shirt with the words ‘will die at the 2/3rds mark to show the monsters are dangerous’ written on it.

Hopper and El. The thing I was most excited for going into this was Hopper and El’s relationship. I’m a sucker for some gruff loner learns to love again parent-child bonding. It’s tropey and cheesey, and I love it. Except I didn’t get that. I got gruff loner takes out his frustrated masculinity on an emotionally vunerable child. I was genuinely concerned for El’s safety in more than one of her scenes with him. We’re supposed to think it’s all okay because he says sorry afterwards, but frankly? I didn’t believe him. I’m sure he was sorry, but I honestly did not believe he wasn’t going to do it again. I would much much have preferred El stay with her aunt, or her sister. But she has to be in Hawkins because the writers ship her and Mike, and that means a parent figure needs to be found. In Hopper’s defence, I will say that he’s not any worse than most of the other parents in this (except Joyce, who is an Almodavar style Madonna figure).

Freud would have a field-day with this show, he really would.

What character arcs does this seaon have? Nancy dumping Steve and deciding to fight back barely counts when it’s actually her returning to the character she was at the end of season one but for some reaon stopping being during the break. Will doesn’t get one, Joyce doesn’t get one, Jonathan doesn’t get one. Mike and Dustin don’t get one. Lucas and Max don’t get one. El doesn’t actually get one. She gets something that looks like a character arc from a distance but is actually her starting off wanting to help her friends, wandering around for a bit and then realising that yes, she still wants to help her friends. Hopper gets one I guess, if you count apologising for one specific fight a character arc. Steve is the only one who gets anything even approaching actual character developement. Everyone else stays exactly the same, with just their location changing to add interest. No one actually grows or changes.

Okay, putting the themes and characters aside for a moment, what is up with the pacing? Seriously. Nothing happens until episode 4, and then the last two episodes are basically wall to wall action. It wouldn’t matter much if this were being aired weekly, but this is Netflix and your show takes less than a day to watch. Most viewers are going to watch it in one sitting, and that means you have to think about the pacing of the whole, not just the individual episodes, and they didn’t at all. The ultimate finale was just a ridiculous nothing of an ending. The kids decide they’re going to burn the tunnels but just never get round to it. Seriously, they go into the upsidedown, wander around a bit, and come out. El and Hopper walk into the facility, shoot 3 or 4 monsters and close the portal no problem. Joyce is able to save Will from possession just by sitting him next to the fire for  bit. They rushed the ending so they could spendmore time filming 12 year olds kissing. And I don’t know about you guys, but I remember being 12 pretty clearly. I spent school discos doing stupid dances with my friends during upbeat songs, and sitting somewhere quiet and talking during the slow ones, and so did most of the other kids. Even the popular straight kids weren’t making out while they slow danced in public at until we were 14. This is approaching teenwolf levels of ‘why are the showrunners so into teenagers sex lives’ in places, though they do at least have the taste to cut away before Nancy takes any clothes off when she sleeps with Jonathn, which TW certainly wouldn’t have. 

Speaking of pacing, they were so desperate to get to their ‘and now the kids kiss’ moment that they totally forget they needed some kind of resolution to Mike’s relationship with Max. So our happy ending includes Mike hating and lashing out at Max any time she’s near him, meaning she can’t spend time with the only friends she has without being attacked. That was supposed to be where you put his character arc, assholes. You don’t get to set this stuff up, not resolve it, and then expect me to be happy with the ending! Max being emotionally at risk from Mike and physically at rick from El and her step-borther (and let’s be real here, step-father as well) is not a happy ending! This is what I mean when I say this season would be better without Max. Eveyrhing about the set up they gave her ruins the happy ending, and she didn’t contribute anything plotwise. She’s a good character, but the show is worse for having her in it.

The advice Kali gives El about ‘anger makes you stronger’. Every genre trope suggests that advice should turn out to be bad, and really it’s love for her friends that makes her stronger. But that’s the one goddamn trope they don’t use, and it’s the one which would have added something to the story. 

The ‘but will evil return’ final shot for this season just felt forced and cheap.”Ooo the upside-down is still there!” Yeah, we know. That’s not the point. The door was closed. The threat is over. Reminding us that the dimension is still there is meaningless, just cheap sequel bait.

Overall, there were enough moments and elements I enjoyed to keep coming back. I liked El’s relationship with her sister (even if it was just a whole bunch of toxic tropes). I liked Hopper and Joyce’s relationship. I liked Steve’s character arc, such as it was. I liked Max. I was interested to see how the various threats would resolve themselves. But considering what changed between season 1 and 2, if there’s a 3rd season I won’t be watching it. This is Hollywood tropes dressed up in Indie pretensions and pop-culture references in the hopes we won’t notice it’s the same toxic bullshit about how much women need a man that we’ve seen a million times before. Well sorry Duffer Brothers, but the fancy set dressing isn’t enough to hide the fact this show is predictable as hell in all the wrong ways.