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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

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Runaways - Peter Maximoff X Female (Princess) Reader

Title: Runaways

Peter Maximoff X Female (Princess) Reader

Additional Characters: The Reader's mother and father (Mentioned), Reader's grandfather (Mentioned), Leander Barrington (OC) (Mentioned), Peter's mom and sister (Mentioned), Peter's grandparents (Mentioned), and royal guards (Mentioned)

WC: 1,214

Warnings: No powers AU, light family angst, arranged marriage mentioned, mention of illness, mentions of running away, and pure fluff

Despite what people thought, being royalty was not all glitz and glamor. It required a lot of hard work that most didn't understand. The one thing they did know about royals was that their lives revolved around parties and balls, and the occasional assassination attempts. It was hard being so young with so much responsibility and honor you had to hold. But, as always, you did your best to carry out your duties with pride. You made sure to be on your best behavior in the public eye.

But, being a princess was terrible. And, you wished for any other life. If only you could run away from this place, just once. You would have left long ago if it wasn't for your grandfather. He had been sick for a long time, but it was difficult seeing him when you were away at the royal boarding school in the countryside of New York. The school was one of the best in the country, and of course, your father and mother, the King and Queen, sent you there to study.

Sitting on your bed, in your room, you hesitated to open the letter in your hands. The royal emblem on the seal of your family crest bothered you. You knew whatever was in it wasn't going to be good. But, letting out a sigh, you quickly ripped off the seal and opened the letter. Immediately you recognized your mother's handwriting. Soft, beautiful, yet elegant and strong. Your mom wrote letters like that all the time, especially when she wanted to convey something important.

You gasped as you dropped the letter, having read what your mother had written. An arranged marriage? Really? You were being pawned off to some foreign prince! How dare they do this to you. You had your own life! You weren't some child who needed to be married off like a piece of property to someone else. Yes, you might be royalty, but that didn't mean you had to listen to them. You couldn't do it.

And, well, you really couldn't. You were already in love with someone else. Another peer of yours in Headmaster Xavier's Boarding School For Special Children. Someone you confide in about everything and anything. A boy named Peter. He was a very sweet young man. The same age as you. He caught your eye the moment you saw him, with his silver hair. That, and his gorgeous brown eyes. You were smitten from the start. But, he was not a Prince. Your parents would never allow it. They wouldn't care if you loved him. They would still send you off to be married to some stranger.

But, you loved him. In fact, Peter felt the same about you. He had confessed, in secret, when you were both studying together in the grand library. His voice was soft, his hands holding yours as he stared deep into your eyes.

🗲🗲🗲

"I have a confession to make..." he whispered. You blushed, feeling butterflies take over your stomach.

"What is it?" You asked.

His face turned red, making you smile. "Well... I've fallen for you." He said softly.

You bit your lip. "I've fallen for you too!" You exclaimed.

He smiled, pulling you into an embrace.

🗲🗲🗲

It was true. You loved Peter more than anything. But, you also knew you couldn't tell anyone about it. Biting your thumb, you raked your brain over what to do. You knew you had to tell Peter, that was the first step. But, what to do after... Write to your mother and confess everything? And what if she forbids it? Run away? You've considered leaving before. But you knew running away wouldn't solve anything.

Getting up from your bed, you brushed down your nightgown, reaching for your silk robe before slipping it on. Reaching for a candlestick on your desk, you quickly made your way to the door, quietly opening and checking down the hall. Thankfully, no one was there, so you slipped out of your room, closing the door behind you.

Walking down the hallway, you walked to the end and opened the door to the stairwell. Sliding down the steps, you quietly made your way toward the boy's dorm rooms. Stopping at Peter's door, you quietly knocked and waited. Holding the candlestick close as you peered into the darkness of the hall as the door slowly opened.

Peter rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, looking down at your with a confused frown on his face. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" He whispered, his voice hushed.

"I just wanted to talk." You replied.

"About what?" He questioned, tilting his head.

"My mother wrote," You sighed, your cheeks reddening. "It's important."

Peter moved to the side, letting you in, "It couldn't wait until morning?" He asked and you shook your head.

Placing the candlestick on Peter's desk, you grabbed one of the candles and raised it to light two small lanterns, engulfing the room in a warm glow. Sitting down on the bed, you motioned for Peter to sit next to you.

"Tell me," He urged.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at him, "She told me that she arranged my marriage to a foreign prince, Prince Leander Barrington of the Westenshire. She's sending a carriage for me by the end of the month to start preparations." Peter's eyes widened.

"That's horrible!" He exclaimed.

"Yes. I agree. But it's not like I can say no." You sighed.

Peter took your hand in his, "Do you want to marry him?" He asked, fearing your answer.

"No. Of course not. But, if I refuse... Well, they would force me anyway. It's either that or leaving my kingdom altogether."

"So, why don't we?" Peter bit his lip after he spoke, watching as your eyes widened and you looked shocked. "We'll run away together. We can get married here in New York."

You smiled, squeezing Peter's hand. "What if my family finds out about it?" You asked, sounding nervous. "They could send guards to find me and take me back." You theorized worriedly.

Peter shrugged, "Then we'll just have to move fast. Don't worry."

"But, where would we go? I have nowhere else to go." You asked, worrying on your bottom lip.

"My grandparents have a small cottage in North Hills. We could live there. They don't go there anymore anyway." He suggested, looking up at you with those beautiful chocolate eyes. You smiled, your heart fluttering.

"Really?" You asked, your voice trembling. "Would that work?"

"Of course. Besides, my mom and sister wouldn't rat us out if we lived there." He assured you. "We'd be safe." He added, kissing your cheek.

You nodded, "Okay then. Let's do it." You murmured, feeling a rush of excitement fill you.

"Great... Good, um, when do you want to leave? We could get packing now and go in the morning. I doubt Headmaster Xavier would miss a horse from the stables at all." He pondered and you laughed lightly, smirking.

"You want to steal a horse?" You giggled. "You're going to be such a wonderful husband." You teased, and Peter looked at you with mock offense.

"I'm not stealing it! Just borrowing it. Just get ready!" He stated.

"Alright." You agreed with a smile.

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Let me know if I should make a part 2 ;)

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x female reader #princess reader #x reader #x female reader #fluff #angst #slight angst #peter maximoff #x princess reader #cute #marvel mcu #mcu #x men #x men fanfiction #au #princess au

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omensfound · 5 years

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Please consider following my main original character and baby boi Kaey on his new blog, @diegraced ! owo

#( ooc || update. ) ————— a wild polar in its natural habitat #hes an angst assassin child that i love more than anything else #i have devoted many years and my entire heart to him #pls go love on my pride and joy #its been so long since ive written him #he feels so wholesome again pls follow + interact !

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brunchable · 2 years

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The Hollow Vows: You Broke Me First || Royalty!Stephen Strange x Royalty!Reader

Word count: 3.5K

Genre: Periodic Drama, Angst, Royalty AU.

Warning: Mild Violence.

A/N: I watched Stardust randomly and it gave me a few ideas. Will probably make a part two depending on how successful this turns out.

You’ve been betrayed by the one man who claimed to love no other one but you. You were excited to finally break the knews to him that you were expecting his first child, no one else knew apart from you, your dress has hid your growing stomach pretty well. The whole Kingdom knows that their Prince would return from his two month long expedition and you expected him to greet you by the gates but apparently he had other businesses planned.

You slowed down as you observed a shadow swiftly making its way towards The Sanctuary, which is where you overheard Stephen secretly expressing his love for Lady Christine, who was his first love. You were well aware that if your marriage to him wasn't prearranged, he would go with the other woman.

You believed you were dreaming things, but a cold chill that crawled up your spine prompted you to investigate it. So you followed the shadow, and as you unintentionally tripped on a dry leaf, the assassin did not hesitate to launch an arrow at you, striking you by the arm.

As the agony became more apparent, you were unable to do anything other than quietly experience it. You broke the shaft of the arrow in exactly the same way that your brother had instructed you to do when you were training. After seeing the assassin rushing towards you, you extended your feet apart in order to better brace yourself for the blow they were about to deliver. When the would-be killer got closer, you thrust your hand in their direction and pulled out the knife you'd been keeping concealed in a brace that was wrapped around your wrist.

It went in smoothly between their ribs, and the hooded killer staggered backwards as a result. You finally managed to injure it, so you pulled out your sword to finish it out. You weren't prepared for the assassin to make another attack at you as the sharp metal sung on your sheath, and you weren't expecting the blades that were hurled at you, which tore your clothes and your flesh to shreds. You squeezed your teeth together to tough out the agony while also blocking the blade that was heading in your direction.

Lady Palmer gasped as she sensed the commotion happening outside, “Someone’s here.”

Stephen rose to his feet from the marbled bench, firmly gripping the hilt of his sword as he made a deliberate turn towards the corner that led to the exit, “Who’s there?!”

Christine followed closely behind him as they exited the sanctuary.

The assassin who had you pinned to the ground and was about to strike you with your own sword when Stephen and Christine emerged through the glass structure and caused them to drop the weapon. Christine was terrified when she saw you lying on the ground after the assassin fled off after seeing you injured.

“M’lady!” Stephen sprinted in your direction, a look of concern spreading over his features as he yelled for the palace guards as loudly as he could., “Guards! Guards!”

The Palace guards who were in the immediate area heard Stephen yell for assistance, and they immediately raced in your way.

“Oh no,” Christine held her hands over her mouth, shocked at what someone had done to you, “I must go Stephen, the King would not be happy if he finds out you saw me tonight instead of the Princess.” Before Stephen could say anything, Christine had already left the scene. Stephen stood up and glanced at you before deciding whether or not to continue following Christine.

“Take her to the infirmary! Quickly!” Stephen gave the order out of sheer panic, and once the guards had safely taken you in their arms, Stephen moved on ahead to pursue Christine, assuming that you were unconscious. However, you pretended to be unconscious since you couldn't face him after what you had witnessed him do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

While you were recuperating in your chambers, your lady-in-waiting stayed with you to keep you company. Your mother and father, who live in the neighbouring kingdom, have been made aware of the circumstances you find yourself in.

“You highness, please you must rest, you’re not supposed to get up.” Asha rushed over to your side and coaxed you in a soft voice to resume your position on the bed.

“I’m fine, Asha, I’ve suffered worse.” You raised your hand for her to stand down.

“If not for yourself, then take it easy for your child, Your highness.” Asha firmly, yet respectfully suggested. You gave her a look that suggested you were perplexed, and then you realised that you were dressed in your nightgown.

“I expect you not to speak to anyone about this, do you understand Asha?” You ordered, sounding almost desperate as you held on tightly onto her wrist.

Asha nodded, “Not a soul shall find out.”

You let out a sigh of relief, and released her wrist, “Grab me a pen and paper—I wish to write to my parents.”

“Yes, Princess.” Asha performed a courtesy before grabbing what you’d asked.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Have you gone mad?!” The King paced around his study, exasperated at the actions of his son, “Didn’t I specifically order you to see the Princess upon your arrival? Why, therefore, do I hear that you were seen with the Duke's daughter?”

Stephen was unable to face his father in the eyes, so he kept his head down and avoided eye contact.

“Have you no concern for the future of our Kingdom that you so freely think you can chase a damsel like a hound in heat when you’re betrothed?” The King became so enraged that he shouted at Stephen and pounded on the table with his fist. His fury was so intense that the veins in his forehead were on the verge of bursting.

“I do care for the future—”

“Then act like it! Do not mistake me for someone who was born yesterday, boy. I have eyes everywhere and I know what you’ve been up to,” He inhaled deeply, “Your actions are an embarrassment in my name, I have failed in raising you.”

“Your majesty, aren’t you being too harsh to our son?” The Queen finally butted in and came to Stephen’s defence.

“He deserves all of it. The Princess almost lost her life because of his stupidity! We swore to keep her safe but we failed because he won’t grow up!” The King grumbled before finally sitting down, “I didn’t want to do this but you leave me no choice—you will make up for what you’ve done, I will excommunicate the Duke’s family from this kingdom if I have to. I will also revoke you of your crown until you prove to me that you’re worthy to be King.”

In response to the judgement that his father had rendered, Stephen immediately sprang up from his seat, “Father, you can’t do that!”

“I can’t?” His father paused with a chuckle, “I am King of the land you stand in, boy, whatever I say shall be.”

After you defiantly departed your quarters to notify the King and Queen that you wished to call off the wedding, you were able to hear the whole scolding that Stephen got after word got around quickly that you got hurt.

As soon as you overheard the King telling his son to get out of his sight, you made a beeline for the next corner and hid there. You watched as Stephen strode off in a furious rage in the direction of the East Wing, which is where his quarters are situated. You waited until he was out of sight before approaching the massive doors and knocking on them.

“Who goes there?” The King asked in a sigh of stress and as you emerged from the doors, he and the Queen straightened up, giving you a pleasant smile, “Princess (Y/N), what are you doing here? You should be taking your time recovering—take a seat.”

“Thank you, my King.” You nodded timidly and sat in front of the couple, “My apologies your Majesty but I overheard the conversation with the Prince—I respectfully ask you to reconsider your decisions.”

The King furrowed his brows, he could tell that you had been crying, “Why should I reconsider? Do you condone his actions and the way he has treated you, Princess?”

“No I do not, my King, hence why I ask you to pardon me for wanting to cancel our marriage.” You glanced at Stephen’s father to check his reaction but he stayed devoid of any expressions.

“You have every right to feel that way dear but don’t you think you’re deciding this too rashly?” The Queen asked in an attempt to get you to think about your decision again.

“You were to marry into our family so that peace will remain upon our lands, would you consider risking war over his childish mistakes?” The King added.

You remained quiet and the King sighed at the mess his son had created, “Do you suggest I endure a loveless marriage for the rest of my life?”

“Loveless? Would you be crying if you do not love Stephen?” The Queen asked.

“I’m not talking about me, my Queen, I’m talking about your son. He doesn’t or hasn’t learned to truly love me.” You corrected the woman, admitting to them that you do love their son.

“Please take the time to think this through Princess. There are many innocent lives that might depend on it. Take as long as you need, return to your home Kingdom if you can’t stand to be around our son,” The King paused and opened his mouth as if hesitating to say what was on his mind, “A King should never beg but for the sake of your people and our people… I’m pleading for you to think about it.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You spent the rest of the day in your room, sitting on the window nook, just watching the people go about their daily chores around the palace and counting how many times the guards had made their rotations. Ever since the attack, the King had tightened security, it was harder to get in and out of the Palace.

You gave in to the King’s request, you told him that you were going to think about it and you requested that you wanted to spend some time back home since he said so himself that you could—just to get away from their unfaithful son.

“M’Lady, the Prince wishes to speak with you.” Asha informed you after she carefully closed the door behind her.

Without taking your eyes away from the window you answered timidly, “Tell him I do not wish to speak with him.”

“Yes, M’Lady.” Asha stepped out of your room again to pass Stephen your refusal to speak with him, a few moments later, you heard bickering in the foyer of your bedroom, “Your Majesty! You can’t just barge in, she need to rest—”

You quickly wrap your robe around your body as Stephen forces his way into your room with persistence in his eyes that he will get to speak with you.

“If I don’t barge in here now, the Princess will never speak to me, leave us be, Asha.” Stephen ordered Asha to be left alone with you but the lady stood her ground and waited for you to be the one to dismiss her.

You nodded in Asha’s direction, giving her permission to leave you alone with Stpehen, “It’s okay, Asha. Do as his majesty asks.” You waited until Asha had left the room before addressing Stephen, “Will you wait in my study while I change into something more decent, my Prince?”

Stephen noticed your attire and looked away, “Of course.” With that he walked towards another door in your room that led into your own study. You dressed yourself in a simple tulle gown with floral embroideries, it was the simplest one that was still able to hide your bump. You followed Stephen into your study and found him going through the books he had suggested you to read.

“You read all of them,” He chuckled, impressed, closing the book with one hand and chucking it on the desk, “How are you feeling?”

“Do you want an honest answer?” You asked in return and Stephen nodded, “I feel like I’ve been trampled by a carriage inside and out because I finally figured out what’s been keeping you busy all these years.”

Stephen sighed as he didn’t expect you to get straight to the point, “You knew about my situation when our parents made a deal, (Y/N).”

“I did—because we were in the same boat, we both loved someone else but that was years ago when we were teens, Stephen. I don’t know if you’re just dense or you just ignore it but I have learned to love you, sincerely.” you turned around, not wanting him to see the tears forming in your eyes and hastily wiped them away, “I had to let go of the man I loved to save your Kingdom when you weren’t even willing to do the same.”

“Have I not done the same? We’ve been together for two years.” Stephen asked, slightly getting defensive.

“Yes and I have been faithful to you despite me loving someone else at the start because that was my duty, my responsibility but what about you? It took you half a year to warm up to me and half the time you’re away, probably spending time with Lady Christine behind my back.” You turned around and pointed at him as your emotions shifted to anger at his unfairity, mixed with the hormones that pregnancy is inducing.

"Please, please listen to me—"

"No, my Prince! I have had enough!" You let out a yell and spun around with rage in your eyes and he stepped back before you, the bandages on your wounds coming undone as a result of the rapid action. You ought not be standing at this point; rather, you should be resting.

"YOU listen to ME! I almost died for you! Died! And what were you doing?! You were with her. If you loved me at all, we wouldn't be in this situation!" You placed your hand over your chest as you raised your voice at him with passion, your breath increasing as you got more and more emotional.

He reached out with trembling hands to touch you, in the vain hope that physical contact would calm you down, "I know, and I'm sorry, it's all my fault-"

You slapped his hand away from you, you refused to allow him to quell your anger.

"Yes! It is your fault! Sorry will not cut it. I love you, but clearly, clearly, you can not devote any of your affection to me because of your feelings for her. And now what? You come scrambling back to me after she finally came to her senses and left you for a man she’s truly in love with? You already had a lover, so why did you do it? Why?!" You screamed.

"I am sorry. I promise it was not what it seemed like." He tried to reason as you moved away from him, he felt a crushing weight of regret and remorse that plummeted into his gut like a rock. Your eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down into a sneer.

"Your Highness, have you no shame? Do not tell me I am deceiving myself from the real concept. When I found out what was going on between you and Lady Palmer, it made me sick to my stomach that I could still have love for you. I should be ashamed of myself. Last night, as I was looking for you when I came upon the two of you. In our sacred space, which is reserved exclusively for the two of us and is brimming with flowers. While you were holding her hand and professing your love for her in the same way that you did to me two years ago. I was pierced by an arrow from the assassin who was bent on eliminating you. Even then–” You halted as the sensation of wanting to weep caused your throat to tighten up— his confession to you, it was all an act, an act to save himself and his Kingdom.

“Even then, when I was fending for my life and yours while I had an arrow embedded in my arm, you did not hear of the struggle as Christine turned her back on you. Only then did you find me with more wounds when the assassin decided to leave us alone, maybe return on another night, since you decided to return to god knows where she left in a hurry.”

His fist clenched against his sides, if only he would be able to speak, but you allow it for not. You are too furious to give him any more of the time that you have already wasted on him, and his remarks are just serving to bury him deeper.

"Will you let me speak?"

"I never want to see you again, Your Highness."

His pupils dilated as he stared in disbelief at your features, "What?"

"Never. Never again will I make the same mistake like this. I've been working on reassembling the pieces of myself that have been deceived, mistreated, and abandoned. Attempting to contain feelings that have been torn apart and stomped on... It's difficult for me to fathom the depths of my pain, but I know it's out there, and I need to collect it." Turning yourself away from him, holding onto your lower belly and saying, "I will not raise my child to make the many mistakes as you did."

Shaking, he breathed in a soggy sigh as tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, "You're pregnant with my child?"

"No. Do not claim this child as your own; you will play no further role in their upbringing, as if you ever did, given that I've known about them from the first week you abandoned me." You clenched your jaw as you spoke these words. It was painful to say them especially when you could see the regret in his eyes—that he chose the wrong girl.

"Why did you not tell me?"

You let out a bitter laugh, "Oh I did try,you highness, but each time, what reply did I get in return? ‘Sorry, tell me later? I have to go somewhere right now.’"

"If only-"

"You did not cheat. If only—traitor. Now, I will be returning to my Kingdom in a matter of days to get away from you." Once again, as he reached for you, you evaded him while putting on a stone face, tears dried on your cheeks.

"Don't bother looking for me. If you really loved me, you would not have abandoned me for her in the first place. If I ever reach the point where I can forgive you, there is a chance that I will talk to you again. But for the time being, I desire to not remember your face." You turn to depart, the fabric of your gown rustling as it passes across the floor. As you open the door, it makes a creaking sound, and light from the corridor slowly makes its way into the chamber in little beams.

"Please (Y/N), I do love you, I swear I do, please believe me. I am sorry." Stephen whirled around, gently wrapping his hand around your wrist and you turned to him with cold eyes that were enough to make him freeze.

“I do believe that you love me, or that you think you do. And I do believe that you’re only sorry now because she left you with me. However, I am unable to say that I believe that to be enough. You may argue that she didn't mean anything, that it was just a one-time thing, and that it won't happen again. Nevertheless, this does not imply that I believe it. I can't put my faith in you anymore. In the end, that is really what everything boils down to. I opened out my heart to you, and you decided to rip it apart. You chose to. You knew what you were doing. You knew it would hurt me, you knew it would hurt us. Break us. But you did it nonetheless. That just goes to show how little you know about love, and what it actually means to fall into it and to value it. Forget about my child and I. Forget about you and I. Forget about us. I want you out of my quarters when I come back."

You hurried out the door before you took back everything that you've said, which left Stephen with an empty sensation. He balled up his palm into a fist, and in a fit of rage, he roared and swore into the air and angrily knocked the books off the desk. During your descent, the gown you were wearing scraped on the walls that surrounded the staircase. And if you feel the need to shed a tear or two along the way, that is your business and no one else's but your own.

Next Chapter

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#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #stephen strange x you #marvel x you #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x you #doctor strange x you #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #dr strange x reader #dr strange x you #angst #Spotify

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rayofsunas · 4 years

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pretending you’re not his s/o. [1]

A/n: happy Thursday!! whew, the week is almost over thank goodness. I hope you’re all doing well and thank you for being patient while I knock out these requests <333 Scaramouche’s is long for obvious reasons (I simp) ALSO thank you for 800 followers, I hit that milestone yesterday ahagdwcsh omg I’m growing so much wtf. thank you all :) <33

Summary: the boys having to pretend their s/o is their secretary, maid, friend, etc. (someone other than their s/o)

Parings: Childe/Reader, Venti/Reader, Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Aether/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Chongyun/Reader, Xingqiu/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Razor/Reader, Bennett/Reader, Zhongli (fem and gn mixed)

Warnings: violence tbh (in Scara’s especially chile), swearing, crack, angst?, fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Requested by bestie @mintydump

Refuses (tells people you’re his s/o and compromises the mission)

Childe: for some odd reason, he was sent out by the Tsaritsa to retrieve a man who was impersonating one of the eleven harbingers and you were to go along. she said men were much more willing to follow along, if there was a beautiful woman promising affection, etc. the only problem was, to win over the impersonator, you had to pretend to be Childe’s co-worker. he hated this idea, and the minute he left, he reassured you he would not call you his partner unless it was romantically. so hell yeah, he’ll compromise the mission and will return without the impersonator. he does not care, you’re not his co-worker. he’ll just be like, “sorry, next time send me alone.”

Venti: jean why... ofc you'd be great company duh, but why did you need to be his babysitter on this expedition?!? sure, Venti may look like a child, but this was stupid! he’s loose-lipped anyways, so he’ll accidentally let it slip to whoever that you’re not his babysitter and that you’re his s/o. he’ll be like, “oops.” with the biggest shit-eating grin. he doesn’t care though, you’re not his babysitter grrr.

Razor: he also accidentally lets it slip you’re his s/o. hunters were after him and his friends, you included (you’re human, he considers you family though, therefore wolf) and he just yells, “don’t touch my mate, GRRR” before ya know, ending them lmao. it never crossed his mind that maybe it wasn’t in his/your best interest to say what you were to him. other hunters could be nearby listening and then target you at a later date. but, tbh he will worry about that another day. as long as you’re safe now, he’ll always be there to protect you.

Refuses (he doesn’t refuse the mission, but he refuses calling you someone other than his s/o/he won’t say if you’re his s/o or not.)

Kaeya: he definitely won’t be calling you anything other than his s/o but he also won’t offer this mission to anyone else. he’s more than capable and he can do this without you having to be in danger too. if someone asks who you are, he’ll just cooly respond with, “none of your business.” and move on. he’ll use that whenever someone asks who you are. even if someone gets a little pushy, he won’t use anything to clue them of your relationship.

Xingqiu: he was supposed to borrow steal a book from someone. he needed it for personal purposes lol; it would be great for his collection. and from his understanding, the person who has it wasn’t using it. though you were confused on why he needed to break into somewhere to retrieve it. you just happened to be with him when he broke in, he says it was an accident that you were there, but tbh it’s all part of the thrill and his mischievousness. despite Chongyun warning him that he shouldn’t have brought you, he still did. and when the person who owns the book whips out a sword and then asks why you were brought along if you seemed timid and unreluctant to steal, Xingqiu’s response is, “well she’s my girlfriend! duh.” cue deadpan. legit no hesitation.

Scaramouche: this mission is happening no matter what. the Tsaritsa’s life is on the line; highly trained assassins from all over Teyvat were sent into Snezhnayan territory to kill her. she could protect herself, but Scaramouche was feeling feverish for battle; he was one of the more unhinged and dangerous harbingers, she entrusted this task upon him. he never turned down a mission. plus, it’s your fault you’re even here. why are you here again!? he left you home in Inazuma days ago. also... who the hell was looking after your daughter if not you...?? when you caught up with him once he was well away from Liyue Harbor’s docks (so he couldn’t force you to get back onto the ship, smart) you told him you weren’t some housewife and you missed the thrill of adventure, so you snuck on the ship too. he wasn’t sure how you got on in the first place without alerting The Kanjobugyo (you’ve snuck out before, so he’s told them not to let you leave, though he assumed you used your former title of a Fatui to gain clearance) let’s just say he’s not happy you’re here, but he’s not turning back now, he’s determined to end this. in the end, he kills all the assassins (ofc). on your way back to Liyue Harbor, arguing about why you’re here (you’re losing), another assassin comes out of the shadows; intent on killing the both of you. he’d managed to grab the end of your hair in his fist and was going to slit your throat. Scaramouche will say, “don’t touch my wife, you insolent scum.” he doesn’t have a problem telling those who have a death wish of your intimate relationship, because they’ll die in the end anyway; therefore to him, it’d be like they never knew.

Zhongli: not many people know you’re his s/o anyways, so if he has something to do, especially dangerous you’re not coming along. he’ll make sure of that. on missions or something, he refuses to call you anything other than his s/o, but if he can’t/wants to keep it private he’ll call you by your name. if you’re facing off against someone, he’ll be like, “y/n, please watch out, I’ll handle this.” he never wants to put you in danger, and tbh even someone threatening who knows your name is a risk, but if they ever found out that you were not only his s/o but the s/o of an Archon? yeah, you’d be on a hit list just like him.

Accepts (he will do this and won’t ask any questions)

Diluc: sorry y’all, but once this is discussed in full and you agree, he’s going to accept it. this mission is important. it’s not often people travel into Inazuma, so he was very lucky his wine is sold there and that he has a popular, well-known name. shipments of his wine weren’t making it into the borders and he was to find the culprit behind it; someone was stealing obviously. you were to go along with a few other soldiers and when jean told him it would be safer to call you his maid and not his fiancé, he agreed. you wouldn’t be a target that way. if anyone wonders why he took his maid, he’ll just say, “she’s to travel everywhere with me.” don’t worry, after the missions over he’ll reassure you he doesn’t think of you as his maid, definitely not. he’ll apologize profusely. “please don’t think of yourself that way, you’re not my maid, I adore you very much, sweetheart.”

Xiao: he already doesn’t go around calling you his wife or telling just anyone, only the Archons know and the fallen Yaksha once knew (you’re one of the female Yaksha) so being talked into this wasn’t a big deal at all. before, he didn’t run around Liyue telling people about your relationship because you both enjoyed the privacy. but now, having to call you his fellow Yaksha who’s been working alongside him for centuries, kinda feels like he’s ignoring or not acknowledging you. sure, you do hold the same titles (Yaksha) and yes you’ve known eachother for centuries, but really, you’ve been together for centuries. if you’re not bothered, then he doesn’t mind. but if you are? he’s very apologetic and will repay you in some way. “you’re not a weakling, you have no reason to worry.” he needs to do this task, he’ll never turn away from the people and if you have to be known as your Yaksha title to him and others, so be it.

Chongyun: it’s not that he doesn’t want to call you his s/o. it’s just he’s a quiet guy and never has told anyone about your relationship; only Xingqiu knows. so he has no problem introducing you as his friend to absolute strangers, especially if you’re okay with it. if you’re not and tell him, he’ll be sure to never call you a friend again. he’s really looking out for your safety, people can be two-faced as he’s learned from Xingqiu’s fantasy books. he wants to protect and keep you safe, and if you need to be addressed as his friends a few times then that’s how it’s going to go.

Accepts (he’ll accept but he has so many questions on why and hates it)

Albedo: he will accept if there’s a logical reason. for example, if you absolutely need to come because you’re his assistant or something and can offer your expertise, he will accept. but if you have no need? you’re not coming, please stay home. the whole time, he hates this. yes, you’re his assistant irl, but you’re his s/o, not just an assistant. it makes him sick that he has to call you that tbh, even if it’s your occupation. but it’s necessary for a lot of reasons you two have already discussed. after the mission is complete, he’s never going to stop apologizing. “love, please do not take what I said to heart, you’re not just an assistant.”

Aether: he has to be talked into this a lot. once kaeya and jean tell him the seriousness and importance of seeing his sister again, especially after all they’ve discovered about her, he’ll agree. no matter how much he hates calling you his travel partner, he has to. his sister has turned to the dark side for whatever reason and this meeting already is risky enough. if she finds out you’re his girlfriend, who knows how she’ll react; she’s very unpredictable now, a little unhinged even. but it does hurt to have to call you that, let’s be real. he never wants to say or hear that ever again.

Bennett: he knows he’s quite unfortunate, so you going with him on expeditions is just stupid and you could face something awful due to his bad luck. you go either way though, what a good s/o :) he almost slips a few times, especially facing off against a few lowlife Fatui. but then you remind him of the dangers of doing that and you’re immediately just a friend/member of Benny's Adventure Team. pls, he hates this so much, like why can’t he call you what you are?!? he’s constantly like, “well why can’t I just say you’re my s/o already? they won’t harm you as long as I’m here!” ?!?!?!? HE JUST DID?!?!?!?!

2.25.21, rayofsunas

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

Text

Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity.

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character,

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way,

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo.

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets.

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much.

He always held it down.

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan.

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to.

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it.

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons.

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler.

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours.

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short.

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family.

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family.

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again.

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down.

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized.

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders.

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now.

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips.

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead.

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body.

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly.

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?”

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior.

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling.

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously.

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin.

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here.

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends.

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date.

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did.

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home.

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him.

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.”

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine.

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue.

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away.

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution.

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.”

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t.

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that.

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that.

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him.

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor.

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy.

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon.

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here.

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip.

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy.

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious.

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+ + +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies.

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely.

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

+ + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past.

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone.

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe.

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible.

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible.

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all.

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right? At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom.

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters.

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror.

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels.

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades.

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight.

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use.

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes.

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted. Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad.

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act.

It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her.

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier. The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI.

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk.

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing.

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof.

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

@snakeeatery17 @utterlyhopeful-fics , @marvelfan1017, @iheartsebastianstan , @annathesillyfriend , @redhairedfeistynerd, @perksofbeingabookworm, @amyrose051, @meegggoooo, @morganclaire4 , @captainchrisstan, @bxndys , @shoesonpointe , @writerwrites, @rainbowkisses31, @lindatreb , @littlemissner98 , @dezzylou24, @ayeitslelee , @hardygal69 , @emmabarnes , @redbarn1995@thequeenreaders@ilovemysupersoldiers@maximumplaidzonknerd@ceapa-mica @s-trawberryv-eins@buckysknifecollections@sobangie@lindatreb@theseuscmander@nervous-plant @wildmoonflower @aya-fay@appreciating-fanfics@kaitlynisinfinite@justreadingfics@kaitieskidmore1 @mrsdancing @everythingiloveandcherish @shinykoalacat @dragongirl31 @kaitlynisinfinite @alwaysclassyeagle

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes smut #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #tfatws fanfic #winter soldier

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dannyphantom-justiceleauge · 3 years

Note

This may be a minor gripe but something that has kind of bothered me about discussions and depictions of Dan is how often people seem to forget that Dan isn't just an older evil Danny, he's a combination of Danny and Vlad's ghost sides. Like people always talk about him like Danny threw away his humanity and turned evil but that's not even true. Sure, we can say that Dan is the result of Danny's action but that's a little unfair. (1/2)

(2/2) Him cheating on a test, coincidentally putting his loved one's in a position where they could be killed, is absolutely not his fault. Letting Vlad take away his ghost powers with a strange contraption might not have been the smartest move, but we are talking about a grieving CHILD here, of course he isn't going to make the best decisions. If anything Vlad's the one to blame here, and even then, it's not like he could predict what happened

---

you aren't wrong, my friend. it really isn't entirely danny's fault and the whole 'if you cheat on a test, you'll loose everything you love' moral is confused at best. i think as fandom we find it more interesting to look at danny's potential evil and moral struggle with himself. so simplifying it to be dan is a worse case scenario of danny makes the conflict less abstract.

particularly because when it comes to self blame danny isn't going to go easy on himself just because it was excusable mistakes.

i think another talking point should be how danny is the target of the time assassination more than vlad is, even though vlad is part of the evil whole. you could argue that danny is the catalyst of his friends death and vlad inventing the claw things. but vlad invented the claw things. maybe because his human side survived and acted relatively harmless from then on? or maybe it's because the observants based on the available evidence recognized danny as more of a threat. i think that fits actually, for all vlad tried to be an evil mastermind, his achievements outside of terrorizing a teenager and theft isn't particularly impressive. danny was the one who got shit done. all his fights he finished one way or another and i could see how that would bleed into dan defeating everyone.

the real question is how to we fix this. ideally we could shape this idea so it's less confused, though i do honestly find the dynamic of half danny, half vlad interesting. if for not other reason. than two half ghosts make a whole. actually that's something else to be said about dan. his self-loathing is what led him to killing his human half, another negative aspect coming from danny.

i wonder if we could frame it like fusion, from su. obviously dan isn't stable or healthy, or based on love. he's most comparable to malichite. but with less internal debate. dan took the best and worst of both of them. danny's determination, danny's fighting ability, danny's anger, danny's sarcasm, vlad's anger, vlads lack of morals, vlads schemes, vlad's control. heck, vlads desire to rule the world. i don't think we ever got that from danny.

maybe if vlad was more involved in the fight with dan it could have been used as an opportunity to compare and contrast their characters. to go we're not so different you and i. danny gets to recognize that he has that dark potential. vlad gets to be humbled by the fact that what he wants isn't good for anyone, especially himself. and to be fair, we do see some of that humbling with future vlad, but none of that character growth is given to present vlad, so, really it's just another vehicle for danny angst. it also depends on what you want to do with vlad though. he's a fascinating character and could be given redemption under the right circumstances or be a character who has the opportunity for redemption but chooses not to be redeemed every time.

that fits him and makes him both a more pathetic and despicable villain. it's hard to pity someone who ignores the opportunities to heal and grow.

as for danny, he becomes far more aware of the consequences his actions, especially his selfish and cruel ones can have. because that potential was always there. he has a history of abusing his powers. perhaps for this specific incident him abusing his powers can be something less understandable than almost cheating on a test that he couldn't study for through no fault of his own. (maybe i just have flexible morals?). maybe it could be something more character relevant, like he did something particularly vlad like, maybe he set up a prank at the nasty burger to get dash but it set off the explosion that killed his family. or maybe he did something particularly cruel and manipulative. there are better catalysts than a test. either way he recognized that he should never go that far again and strive to avoid being actively cruel.

he also has the opportunity to recognize that vlad does have a human half, even the one he's fighting everyday. he can face some conflict in it's not entirely clear what trait belongs to vlad and what trait belongs to him. he can empathize with vlad and he can recognize that situations aren't always in black in white. those who fly the highest, fall the hardest, after all.

it can be a growing experience. and while making it solely a danny goes bad and learns not to do evil kind of story. maybe we could cut vlad from the equation and just have danny face himself, full evil refection. i think exploring both vlad and danny through this fusion is far more interesting. especially because we can build on what's revealed about vlad in these episodes, in later ones. danny sees a future where vlad chills and that maybe his vlad could get their. later he see vlads past and what he lost to become who he is.

and then there's vlads turning point episodes. i don't know when motherly instinct took place but maddie fully recognizing he's a bastard and rejection him, was a turning point for his sanity, and danny helped it along. then we have danny rejecting him repeatedly, then we the clone episode, which we can all agree was a desperate move on his part, that danny once again thwarted. and we can all agree that this was the cannon turning point for his character where he stopped fighting for a family and started trying to be danny's villain. in that episode, i think danny could potentially pity vlad enough to try and reach out. he's not going to justify what vlad did and he's not going to apologize for stopping him. he went too far. he hurt danny and dani, he crossed a moral line that can't be justified even with his desperation. but if he changes...

he lost this time but if he changes, maybe they'll reach the point where they're ready to accept him.

i think the same thing could be said about his relationship with jack and maddie. if he changes, if he reaches out. if acts like less of a crazy fruitloop, his friends would be there for him. jack is still trying to be there for him, even if he's being oblivious about vlad's faults. vlads the one driving wedges into his relationships and pushing everyone away.

and that's so freaking human and understandable.it would be such a cool thing to explore with his character.

i could also see a potential arc where after valerie finds out vlad and masters are the same person she tries to get close to him, both to sus out how evil he is and to understand him as a halfa. afterall danny got her to acknowledge dani as human enough, the same would apply to vlad/plasmius, right? only he's a bad person and the more she uncovers about vlad masters the man, the more she realizes it's not the ghost half that's evil. but this is a double edged sword because, vlad is getting attached to her and encouraging her to be more evil. he's encouraging her to go darker and darker in her fight against ghosts and her fight specifically against phantom. to the point where she finally draws the line and says, i'm not doing that! boom exploring the moral ambiguity of her character and getting her to take a hard stance on her morals, because there's a line too far for her.

and boom a further breakdown of vlads character because he finally had someone outside the fentons to redeem him. she could have helped pull him out of the hole he'd been digging himself into. she wanted to help him. he got attached to her, but he and his bad decisions decided to dig himself deeper instead. so once again he's 'abandoned and betrayed'.

from that point, i think it'd be time for him to finally face jack head on. not through manipulative schemes. not through veiled threats and insults. but the full confrontation of 'i always hated you. you ruined my life. you're the reason i lost everything'. which is really just his own self loathing speaking. and jack... empathetic jack can see that vlad desperately wants help. and jack would offer it to him. jack would try to hug it out and apologize and give vlad the love and friendship vlad's been fighting to steal this whole time.

and vlad would reject it.

he'd probably lash out a jack and go into a full breakdown/world destroying attack. could finally put the stolen crown to use and try declaring himself king and embracing his megalomaniac thing and actually be a threat this time. and THAT would be our series finally. everyone teaming up to fight 'king vlad'. danny probably finding out that he's technically king because he beat pariah dark but the matter being a bit confused because he had help. val and danny trying to find the ring of rage or at least find someone who can make one. secrets are out. i imagine vlad, upon revealing himself to jack would out danny to make danny as sad and alone as him. except nope, his family still loves him and val has had the character development to come around to him. (she's still gonna punch danny for lying for so long.) the ghosts will come and help because no one wants another tyrannical kind and vlads obviously off his rocker.

ah, the could have beens

anyway, i didn't mean for this to become a full vlad character analysis and rewrite when we were supposed to be talking about dan, but hey, i'm a simple creature. i like good writing, and i have to rewrite things myself, so be it. - Hestia

#dpjl #hestiawrites #danny phantom #vlad masters

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omgrachwrites · 3 years

Text

After Forever - Prince Hal

Pairing: Prince Hal x Reader

Summary: A year after your marriage to Hal, you reflect on all the adventures you’ve had together and wonder whether his abdicating of the Throne was the right thing to do.

Warnings: fluff, lil bit of angst, mentions of death

Words: 1342

A/N: This is the sequel to 'Her Prince', thank you so much @emmamooney for requesting! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

Soft perfect light filtered through the thicket of trees as you waded through the long grass with your husband to reach the top of the hill. The light washed over Hal’s handsome profile, causing him to glow like a fallen angel and it caused you to gape at him as your chest filled with love and awe. He must have felt your gaze burn into his profile because he looked at you, trying and failing to hide the smile on his face.

“What are you thinking of my love?” he chuckled as he pulled you close and kissed your cheek.

You smiled up at him, “you, I’m always thinking of you,” it was true, even for that year that he’d been away from you, you had thought of almost nothing else.

A few months after Hal had abdicated the Throne for you, he had had an attempt made on his life, which made you feel extremely guilty. The would be assassin was angry that Hal had given up the Throne and thrown England into disarray. As a result of this assassination attempt, the both of you stowed away on a ship headed for Italy. The people of Italy didn’t much care that an English prince had given up his rule, so the both of you were quite safe.

Shortly after, you and Hal got married and after a few unsuccessful tries, you discovered that you were expecting your first child. You and Hal were able to live a comfortable life due to the money you had earned in England and Hal was able to make off with some of his inheritance.

Hal cupped your cheek and kissed you lovingly before he sat with his back against a tree trunk, pulling you in between his legs. He wrapped his strong arms around you, resting a protective hand on your round stomach, “I love you, Y/N,” he kissed your cheek and you could feel his smile.

“I love you too, my darling,” you beamed as you watched the sun set over the hill, turning the sky from a perfect, cloudless blue to a misty pink colour.

Hal’s soft fingers weaved through your hair, gently untangling the knots, “is everything alright, Y/N? You’re quiet today, what’s on your mind?”

With a sigh, you turned to face him and found his gorgeous blue eyes looking into yours, you smiled at him as you cupped his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his growing stubble beneath the pads of your fingertips.

“I’m just thinking that it was over a year ago that you abdicated the Throne for me.”

Hal nodded, polite interest on his handsome face, “yes, my love. What’s your point?”

You busied yourself with pulling up blades of grass, “if it wasn’t for me, you’d be the King of England right now, instead the Throne is being passed around Europe like a collection plate. Was this whole thing worth it?” a couple of months ago, you’d gotten word that Hal’s father had died and despite the fact that he hadn’t been close to his father, Hal didn’t talk for days.

Hal rested a gentle hand on your chin, “Y/N, look at me,” he whispered lovingly and you glanced up at him, your eyes filling up with tears, “my angel, you and our child are the best things to ever happen to me. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t do a thing differently. I love you, Y/N, I would never want to be King if you weren’t beside me as my Queen. We’ve got a good life here and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You sniffed, your cheeks feeling wet, you had no idea when you had started crying, Hal kissed your forehead as he wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I love you too, Hal.”

Hal grinned and pulled you into his chest, “then let’s talk no more of the past, I brought you here so we could watch the stars, it’s a clear night, my love,” and so you did, you threw your arm across Hal’s stomach and watched the stars, listening with delight as Hal told you every story he knew behind each constellation.

Years Later….

The tension was so thick in the bumpy carriage that you could cut it with a knife as you glared over at Hal. You couldn’t believe him; he could be putting your whole family in danger.

“Is everything alright, mother?” your beautiful 17-year-old daughter, Isabella asked as she glanced up at you from the book she was reading.

With a tight smile, you nodded at Isabella, “everything is well, my darling.”

That was a horrific lie, you and Hal had argued awfully the previous night. The King of France - and now England – had heard talk of you and Hal being alive and he somehow found where you were living. It seemed that in the past 15 years, there was a full scale rebellion in England. The common folk were calling for the daughter of their once beloved Prince Henry, even if you were a peasant.

As a good King should, he listened to his people and had sent for you and Hal to bring Isabella to court to meet his son, Francis. The King wanted to make a love match. You had been very much against it but Hal quickly agreed, his reasoning was that if you rejected the invitation, the King would come after you.

Isabella nodded at you with a small smile as she went back to her book, she was so excited to meet the Prince, blissfully unaware of the possible dangers. Hal had a sorrowful guilty look on his beautiful face that you couldn’t bear to look at. You settled on gazing out of the window at the rolling English countryside. You felt Hal take your hand and he lifted it to his lips to press a warm kiss to your knuckles. You were angry with Hal but you still loved him, you loved him more than anything.

Finally, you arrived in the courtyard of the Palace. As you got out of the carriage, you glanced over at Hal to see him looking up at his old home with a saddened look on his face. You felt awful that he never got the chance to say goodbye to his father.

“Are you alright, Hal?” you muttered to him as you were escorted to the Throne Room by a guard.

A muscle fluttered in Hal’s jaw as he smiled tightly at you, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, “of course.”

The Throne Room was more beautiful now, there was gold everywhere and portraits lined the walls. Where there was once a wooden floor there was now a wine coloured velvet carpet, leading up to a golden Throne where a smiling handsome older man sat. The sun beamed through the windows, creating tiny little rainbows in the air. The sweet perfume of incense filled the room.

Hal nodded at you and Isabella, and as one you begrudgingly bowed before the King. The King chuckled jovially as he got to his feet and made his way over to the three of you, “please, you need not do that,” he shook Hal’s hand, “welcome back,” he smiled at you and Isabella as he kissed your cheeks and gestured over his shoulder, “may I introduce my son? Prince Francis.”

As you glanced over at the handsome young man, you heard Isabella gasp with delight as the Prince strode towards her and kissed the top of her hand, “charmed, Mademoiselle.”

With a smile, you watched your daughter and the Prince gaze at each other with longing in their eyes. It seemed to be love at first sight, the dread in your heart seemed to evaporate.

Hal pulled you close and whispered into your ear, “are you still angry with me, my love?” he chuckled, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

“You are so lucky I love you,” you laughed, gazing up at him. It seemed like the perfect happy ending to your family’s story.

@ladyblablabla @smiithys

#Prince hal #Hal #prince hal imagine #Prince hal fluff #the hollow crown #prince hal x reader #prince hal x reader insert #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #you x prince hal #hal x reader #Hal x reader insert #hal x y/n #hal x you #you x hal #tom hiddleston #Au #Royal au

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iovchlde · 3 years

Text

purple hyacinth.

in which childe breaks the rules just for you— and now he has to reap the consequences.

pairing.

childe x gn!reader

genre.

angst

warnings.

hinted death

author’s note.

i take a break from writing and the first thing i do is this— revoke my writing privileges pls

childe knows, better than anyone else, never to form relations with his targets; and god forbid those friendly feelings bloom into anything more. it was the first cardinal rule of being an assassin, it made the job easier, and the most obvious of rules by far. more often than not, he took great pride in his ability to avoid those at all costs—

— but even he has his slip ups, unfortunately. those small minor errors that he makes along the way that causes an avalanche of problems later on. one mistake that starts off as a small snowball, and it rolls and rolls until it becomes something big.

childe isn’t able to comprehend why it hurts so much this time around. he doesn’t understand why his heart feels so heavy— his hands trembling, overcome with the blood he holds. he’d never once doubted his ability to kill; a blood thirsty man who never looks back once a job is done. this should be meaningless to him.

and yet, he sits upon the windowsill, staring achingly at you. he stares with a clenched jaw, a trembling hand that longs to hold you tenderly within his arms, and a heart that holds a certain despair. though— he can stare as much as he want, but he knows.

he can’t take back something he snatched away so ruthlessly from you.

“you’re right, i lied.” he whispers, his voice faltering as he feels an unfamiliar lump form in his throat. he’d broken the first rule. “i was in love with you. so, foolishly, in love.”

the second rule of being an assasin; never dwell on regrets. and with that, he finds himself breaking, yet, another rule.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin childe #childe x reader #childe angst

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x fem! mute! reader - Dancing eyes

(Image not mine)

A/n: I just thought about this and here we are. Also! I will have at least two more imagines coming out today or tomorrow! I'm also sorry if I offended anyone I really tried to make a good representation of the reader and I did some research but I'm not mute so I don't know exactly what's that's like. So if you guys could tell me if I did anything wrong, just some feedback that would be nice!

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, death, angst, blood, gore, the reader is mute, fluff I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Kaz falling in love with you

(The sign language is in italics bold!)

All rights go to leigh bardugo, netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

She was dancing when he first saw her.

She did a few twirls, her leg went into the air flawlessly into a arabesque to the side. It was powerful and controlled but it was graceful. The girl did a paw de chat and jumped high into the air turning around and landing with one leg behind her perfectly straight and pointed, one leg on the ground and her hands in front of her like she was presenting something to the audience.

The crowd clapped and applauded her but she did not smile, not till she did a low curtsy and while she did her y/c/e orbs meant his. Kaz's breath got lodged in his throat when he saw her beautiful eyes. Then they lit up like all the stars were in her eyes and her lips curved upwards forming a small grin.

Kaz shook his head, she wasn't valuable to the dregs so she wasn't worth looking for, so he turned swiftly on his feet and started walking towards the slat.

But you wish she was.

Kaz started looking for her everyday, and everyday she would be in her spot near the slat doing a dance. Her graceful movements often caught his eye and he would often find himself watching her from his window.

Weak.

But one day something else caught his eye about her, she had enough money for shoes and clothes, it didn't look like the girl ate much, barely enough to keep her alive. Thought still, she bought food.

Or did she?

He observed her in a different way now - for a week and to say the Brekker boy was surprised would be an understatement. The little dancer had been stealing.

Sometimes she would steal food, money, and do a few magic tricks here and there but the thing was he never saw her steal only saw the people leave with empty pockets.

Kaz could admit to himself that she was good, possibly better than him - which was dangerous. But could she kill someone? Maybe he could train her but he found he didn't want to force that upon the girl that danced outside his window everyday. Stealing food, money and even clothes sometimes.

Saints, I'm growing soft. Kaz thought to himself.

The next time he saw her was three weeks later well, the thing is he didn't see her outside his window dancing all day from 6:00pm sharp all the way to 3:30am.

He wondered how the girl slept.

He was limping down a street and he turned a corner only to hear a voice and it wasn't recognizable so he quietly limped over and peaked his head out.

It was the little dancer.

She had a grisha steel dagger pressed up against a man's throat. The man was trembling in fear, and the little kitten that once danced was gone and her claws were coming out.

"Please-please! I did can-can pay-pay you back! Please! I-I know people who-who can help!"

The man looked young but was definitely a sleaze ball, with his brown hair that looked like it was decaying, his round bodice, his fat arms and legs and he retched of alcohol and young girls.

He was nothing compared to the girl.

The tiger had a snarl on her face, but she didn't make a sound as she stabbed the dagger threw his forehead killing him. Then she pulled the knife and grabbed a piece of paper presumably writing something down on it.

She spun on her heels and she faced him.

Shit.

She just blinked at him and made some weird hand movements which Kaz identified as sign language.

Oh he did know what sign language was, he knew how to use it too.

If you wanted a show, you could have just asked dirtyhands.

The girl smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"I don't want a show, but I would like you to join the dregs." He said out loud in a monotone voice. She looked taken aback that he could understand her but she grinned even brighter that he could.

Of course. It's better.

She signs, using just those words and not adding anything else - just it's better. Though he knew actually what she meant.

"What are you. You seem to know your way around here, not to mention the stealing and killing."

I'm a assassin. I Trained somewhere... not in Kerch, and I escaped and went here.

Her signing his precise and graceful almost like her dance movements. She starts to walk away but she pause's and turn's to him.

You can call me Nemesis.

Then she walks away. He didn't even know the time or whether she was even going to show up. He didn't even know her real name - not a single thing about her real identity really.

Only that she dances.

After that day he dreamed of her every night. Sometimes she would be dancing outside or she was working on a job with him. On the occasion he would get a dream about her in a meadow holding up a flower and showing it to someone. But that seemed more like a memory more then anything because she looked younger - a child only five maybe seven.

He longed for the sleep.

Once after a job with the Crows she came to his room and her hair flowed down her back as she climbed into his desk chair while he was on his bed.

He didn't even hear her come into the room.

Writing something down on the paper she turns around and hands him it.

My name is Y/n.

That's when he knew she trusted him.

After that moment they slowly began to come together - slowly but surely. Whether it be a small brush of the hand or full on skin to skin contact they we're there and then they weren't. Technically, they weren't dating - not officially anyways but no one (not even the Crows) could find where Kaz or Y/n began or where they ended. It was like they we're on one big loop, they we're on person yet they we're different.

The first time he kissed her she was coming back from killing someone.

Y/n was his personal assassin, because of that she killed a lot of people and had to be never seen, no evidence, not always clean kills. But Y/n had already admitted to killing many people and she signed that she probably had killed more people in her childhood then he will ever tell her to kill in his lifetime.

So when she came back in tears after a murder he was rightly confused. Her bright y/c/e eyes we're filled to the brim with tears and the eyes that usually danced with emotions were almost dead looking. Though to Kaz they still looked beautiful.

That's not what she needs right now.

Kaz sat on the bed staring at the assassin that stood in the middle of his room, that looked nearly like the little dancer that he once thought she was. But her eyes looked shattered like glass spread across the floor in pieces.

He patted the room beside him on the bed and she reluctantly followed where his hand was and sat down. She kept her eyes cast down, and it killed Kaz to not see those beautiful eyes that danced. The only thing the left of her innocence in his opinion.

With an ungloved hand he lifted her chine up to his and slowly her eyes meant his. Her breath stuttered, she breathed in and started moving her hands using sign language to talk.

There was a child.

She started, always trying to get to the point fast enough.

They went up to me and...

Her hand movements came to an erupt stop and she slowly breathed in a breath preparing.

They called me a monster.

Kaz looks at her and the tears in her eyes. She needs comfort or something at least but he's not so sure he can give her that. He's not sure if he's even ready for that.

Yes you are. And Kaz could finally agree with the voice in his head.

He slowly brought their lips together and brushed them together in sync. He lifted his hand to go to her cheek and he stroked it. They pulled away, it was barley a kiss but it was enough.

"You could never be a monster Y/n." He whispered as their foreheads touched again.

__________TIME SKIP_____________________________________

Knives, arrows, and bullets were flying though the air. Some hitting people and some not. Kaz looked over to Y/n, he knew he shouldn't have brought her on this job.

She had an air of royalty around her, she killed whomever she liked out of the Blacktips.

That's if she granted them mercy.

If she didn't you would die a very painful death. Her hair was blowing in the wind making it look like she was floating, and for all Kaz knew about her, this girl was full of surprise's. She might as damn well been.

Her reflects were quick and graceful but deadly. Just how she dances. He thought. Her eyes were on fire and they seemed to burn everything around them.

She really was a Saint.

Focus. He scolded himself.

You can think about her more later and maybe tell her what you think boy. It was a different voice this time, and it vaguely sounded like his father but he pushed the thought away and kept on fighting.

The heist was over and he looked around for Y/n because usually on mission's like these they would go together and just sit. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would just enjoy each other's presences. It was all they needed, just a reminder for them that they we're still alive.

"Did you see Y/n." He said flatly not wanting to seem worried although he really was.

"Ya, I saw her slip away earlier she looked fine." Nina supplied.

He gave her a quick nod and started walking back to the slat. At the least he knew she was fine.

They couldn't find her.

It had been a week and she didn't show up, they were all desperately trying to find the assassin but she was no where to be found. She silent girl was gone, they didn't even know if she was captured or not.

After another week the others had given up saying if their was a lead they would be there. Then Kaz found a note on his desk.

Dear Mr Brekker,

Hello Kaz this is Y/n, so I'm sorry for doing this but it had to be done. I'm not captured no, and I'm safe for now no ones really safe in the barrel. I have many enemies and they will find out you and the Crows are my weakness and I can't have that. You mean so much to me in words I could never describe and it pains me so much to leave knowing - I love you. You are some much stronger than me and a considerably better person then I ever could be although you fight against that statement. You put your Armour down for me and I couldn't do that for you. I'm sorry.

May the stars watch over you,

with love Y/n

Kaz didn't know what to do, Y/n was gone the loop was broken and everything was back to the way it was. He closed his eyes and thought about her eyes - those dancing eyes.

Like for part 2!

Words 1930

-thedeluisonreaderbitch

#six of crows #kaz brekker #Soc #shadow and bone #grishaverse #inej ghafa #kaz brekker x reader #kaz rietveld #matthias hevlar #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #crooked kingdom #x reader #Y/n #angst #fluff

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Jim and Jody - Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary; it was one of the biggest decisions of your life, but will you change your mind before your future is sealed?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abortion (everyone is permitted to do what they want with their body, in this imagine the reader wants to keep the baby, but pro choice, as everyone deserves control over their bodies and all 🤍), brief mention of sex and threats

Masterlist Link

To see him so relaxed, so completely and utterly himself was a paradise all on its own. There was a heaviness aboard your shoulders, but as you watched him goof tirelessly about, you had no other concerns, not even as you subconsciously raised your hand over your stomach. You shook your head at the sentiment, the two of you had already made the decision to abort this child, it was unknown how the poor fellow would turn out to be; with the combination of your powers and his super everything, it was sure to be quite the complication, and not one that you supposed was to be an easy course.

A smile pried at your face, simply from viewing him with the pack of children, the wind from the docks swept your hair into your face, and in turn, you swept the locks out and away from your vision, so that you had further access to watch the man that you loved in his absolute element. Through the years, past and recent, he had lost so much, and this child was just to be another mantle on the wall of memorial in his mind, it was sad really. If the two of you were normal, with average and lives that had perceptions with no regards of being heroic, there’d be no query about it, you’d keep the baby.

That life though, to your grave misfortune, did not exist, it was merely a fantasy living painfully inside of your mind, haunting you whenever you closed your eyes, with the flashing images of a resolution and end to the errors in your lifestyle. There’d be a big house, yet nothing to prissy, just enough room for the pair of you and few children of your own, a grand garden with a swing set and sand pit, where the infants could grow up and play in once they were older. Then there’d also be a shed for Bucky to work on small projects, such as attaining some love and care to his motor bike, as well as storing the supplies that he’d need to do so.

All that is a universe away, muffled from possibility by the stars expediting through the gorgeous veil of the galaxy, corrupting the possibilities of ever gaining access to such... peace. That was the one thing that the pair of you wanted, however catching a break was rather rare within your predicament. A stifled laugh reeled from the conjunction of your lips as you simply and endearingly surveyed how the boys, specifically Sam’s nephews hung from the vibranium branch of his arm. It was all your attention was focused on, until an extra person took a seat on the picnic table beside you, his sweet yet musky scent detailing whom it was. “If your not going to eat that, I’m sure Barnes Junior might want an opinion on that.”

The underlining of the words caused an abstract grimace to forlorn your features, as you stared not at the speaker of whom you were close with, but instead the slather of cake that was planted on a paper plate before you, the icing beginning to become slightly sick from the beating of the viable son. “You’re glowing, you know? Motherhood is a good look on you y/n/n, I wouldn’t be so soon to let that go.” Your fingers pried at the dismantled crumbs off your section of desert as you looked to your new captain, a resonating conformation fo bridled suffering and hopelessness clouding your view of his attempt at making you atone before you made a sin that you’d forever regret.

He, like many others, knew that the family life was what you wanted; you wanted to be your child’s hero, tending to their each necessary (and unnecessary) need, them being your main focus and project and life. Instead, you had been handed your options on a short stick, and thus, your decision, albeit somewhat of a sensible one, didn’t make it hurt any less. “Sam.” You spoke his name, observing from the corner of your eye how Bucky paraded around the dock with Jim and Jody. It’d be nice to give him a slice of this kinda life, he was thriving as an adult around children, you could only imagine him in the case of this one being birthed into the world. “It’s not that easy.”

“No one said it was going to be easy.” Sam responded quickly, affirming your fears to your nerve wrecked face. “I get it, I do. People will be after this kid, and that is no way to live, but you two aren’t alone in any of this, nor will you be in that. You have me, along with many other old friends of ours, hell even the Wakandan’s. Do you really want to sacrifice this one life so you can continue living this one? You and Bucky have both lost so much, you don’t have to force yourself to willingly give away something else. The decision can be changed the last minute, it’s a lot to take in, I get that, but I see the way Buck is with my nephews, and how you watch them when you think nobody’s looking over at you. With your state pardon, you two can retire, and go far away, and abandon everything for this one little guy or gal, because I know that if you do, no matter what, they’ll be worth it.”

Bucky wailed a warrior’s shout as Jim and Jody playfully struck him down, his unsheathed metal hand grasping at the cloth that was tightly aboard his addictive chest. He rolled on the ground as the children ran to retrieve their toy lightsabers, leaving him to be expendable against their weapons. There was a giddy and fitting smile smouldering his usual stoic expression. It was no wander why he found calm in visiting Sam and his sister’s small, and accepting family. The kids brought out another side of him, which he had been tortured to refrain from showing, but you had seen, and were contemplating many things within your mind. You were lapping up the image, as though you were dehydrated and the sight of him appeased by the company of young ones was a source of water.

Sam was right, he always was and had been. “The decision was on both of our parts, you don’t think Buck’ll change his mind, or do you?” You were invested in getting a responsive answer, yet the man spluttered a laugh at your confused expense. He heaved for a moment, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. There was nothing stopping him from gaining it back, unlike Bucky whom had grabbed a saber of his own and lightly began to paddle against the one that was directed against him, other than another round of hysterics that abandoned him. A reasonable smile resonated a comfortable position upon the former falcon’s face, as he tentatively patted your knee, watching as you broke off a small rupture of cake and popped it in your mouth, feeding not only yourself but the inmate within your womb.

“There isn’t really much for me to say, it’s easy, look at him. He will be fine with whatever decision that the pair of you succumb to, after all, it’s your body, but it will pain him like nothing else ever has if you go through with the abortion, and if not, then trust me, we’ve both seen how hard he fights; think of that but ten times the mass in consideration of this baby, because I am certain that he’d do anything for them. He lost his entire family when he awoke from his mode of hydra assassin, this could be him getting it back. Different members, but a family all the same.” He stole a little of your cake, making you lightly elbow him as a smirk rendered a beauty upon his face.

“What’s that going to make you, the patriotic uncle who just can’t keep himself from flashing his shield?” Now it was his turn to retaliate, he lightly scuffed your ankle with a feather light tap of the toe of his shoe, causing you to promiscuously roll your eyes. “I’m joking, that was Steve’s aesthetic, this new version of cap is your baby, I have great faith in you to make this world a better and safer place. The funny thing is, when you finally accepted that shield was yours, that’s when my mind shifted to the possibility of keeping this kid. It was and has always been a sign of hope and protection to Bucky, maybe it could be the same for our little one. It was just a thought, I’m not meaning to put pressure on your or anything bu-“

“I get it, and I’m honoured. And if that is how it seems, then I want you to know that I’ll be there to protect them too. The main bump in the road for now is for you to talk to that grumpy ass boyfriend of yours and figure this sperm plus egg equation out, send Jim and Jody over here, I got somethin’ to show those two anyway.” With a nod and a grateful pat upon your friend’s head, you slowly plodded over to where Bucky was being cornered against the side of the truck by the boys. His blue orbs danced around their small and imaginative beings, until they landed on you, it was as though his pupils were calling out for help, begging for you to spare some mercy upon him.

“Jim, Jody, your uncle Sammy has something for you two to see.” They groaned lightly, having been pulled away from the narrative of their play time, but nevertheless their faces were clean slates as they expressed hyper smiles, and bolted their route towards their mother’s sibling, carrying their lightsaber replicas along with them. “Two kids beat an infamous, deadly badass with a metal arm. I think you might be getting too old for these kinda battles Buck, you were losing, and quite terribly if I say so myself.” Crossing your arms, as he came to an upright stand, hoisting himself off the ground, so that he could be more level with you.

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Thought you were supposed to be supportive of me and all that, as you said to Zemo, you’d quite happily cut his dick off if he compared me to the shadow that I used to be.” His brow raised, as he reminisced on the thought of you threatening Zemo; it was hot, and certainly had gotten him going, which had shortly left you in this predicament, trying to save the world and execute the one last thing that exhumed hope to either one of you. The baby. It was almost a certain and solid fact that the little one inside of you had been procreated on the Baron’s private jet, more specifically, the small and clean bathroom that had became dirty with your primal sins.

“And I still regret not doing that, he’d have had much less leverage in any sense of the word of phallic if he had it sectioned off.” Silence emitted between the two of you, although a humoured smirk tantalised upon Bucky’s graceful face. For a change, he was not prompting the expression of a grumpy cat that was refused its nip, no, instead he could be compared to a future - actually, he already was a father to the bean held in the shield of your body, having been an ample ingredient in bringing the small person into being. “So, you having fun with Sarah’s kids, sure looks like you were quite in your element before I cut in.”

“I’m always in my element when you’re around doll.” He smiled, wrapping his uncoordinated hands around the oval of your waist, and tugging you sentimentally closer, your hips bumped with his, as your eyes ogled infatuatedly up at him. “They’re great kids, makes me realise exactly what we’re gonna be missing out on.” Bucky gulped, sparks of emotion taunted the behind of his eyes, like saucers of resentful fire. “You’d be the perfect mother, you know that right? After all you’ve done for me, you’ve nurtured me close to the man that I once was, the only difference is that I want to settle, but I don’t know how to go about dropping everything. This kid is killing me, he’s making me question everything.”

“That’s what kids are supposed to do, unborn, or very much avidly attacking grown men with false lightsabers.” Bucky deeply into your frustrated and corresponding eyes, your hands reaching up to play defiantly with the smooth dip in his chin that could be seen through the shading of his light stubble. “What if we did have a Jim and Jody of our own some day? We could keep him or her, they’d be our greatest concern, we don’t have to go down this painful and longing, rusted road. We could bring something good into this world, protect them against all forces that threaten to disrupt their life, I want this with you Bucky. We could move far far away, or go somewhere close to home.”

“Brooklyn.” He stated, causing a line to crease gently in the plain of his forehead. “I want to call them Brooklyn, if I am to fight the rest of my life for something, I want it to be my home. Last time I had to leave there, but it’s my amends to never leave this child of ours, if we’re going to do this, we need to put them in front of everything, and I mean everything.” He spoke, in reference to the other avengers and other aliases that you had stood by for so long. Bleakly you nodded, grasping his jaw down for an amorous kiss, humming against the palette of his lips, as your hands entwined behind his neck, pulling his face closer to your own, prompting his tongue to travel deeper within the realm of your mouth.

“Brooklyn is a nice name. How about Brooklyn Margaret Barnes? I think that has quite the ring to it.” You offered, and he hardly reacted, instead quickly appraising a pleasant smile onto the canvas of his work of art face, as he ducked his head down, conjoining the pair of you into a passionate and meaningful collide of your lips. Sam smiled as he watched the pair of you, pointing at you two from afar, as his nephews from afar. He was giving them a man to men talk, offering them advice that they would have valuable usage of in the future.

“Now that is love. You don’t give up for the one thing that connects you, and those two, well Bucky and y/n have been through a hell of a lot. They deserve this, and when you meet a woman when you’re older, and your mum is watching on towards the two of you, I want you to make her proud by treating your girl like a princess, willing to sacrifice everything simply to create the future that she wishes for you.” He emotionally wiped his eyes, rushing to stand before he grasped a lightsaber, leaving the other to spare for one of them. “Now Jim and Jody, which one of you will be my padawan?”

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moonctzeny · 4 years

Text

Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

------------------------------------------------------

The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

"Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you.

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough.

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made.

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you.

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning.

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight.

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him.

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings.

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines.

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty.

“He doesn’t even love you”

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?”

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance.

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling?

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands.

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over.

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

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