#ii can already tell several things that are going to bother me about this later so ifi delete this in the morning thats why

[transcarcinization]

data study

[disasterofastory]

Three times when Ubbe wants to make you a free woman (Ubbe x Reader)

Three times when Ubbe wants to make you a free woman Ubbe x Reader Warnings: slavery

I.

The Queen bought you from a merchant who wandered around the world to make money selling slaves for everyone who can pay. You are free from him, but you still hope he drowned in the sea when he set off after the Vikings bought you. He was a cruel man with yellow teeth and a hooked nose from fights. After him, everything was a pleasant change, even if you were still a slave or a thrall as they called you.

You serve Aslaug’s oldest son for two years now.

Your job is mostly to take care of Ubbe’s needs. You wash his clothes, sharpen his swords and cook for him when he wishes it. He is nice to you. He never hits you and doesn’t force you to do anything you don’t want. It’s more than a slave deserves.

One day you sit before the fireplace, sewing one of his tunics. The blue material is soft and warm between your fingers in contrast to the brown dress you wear. Your skin was irritated for a month before you got used to the rough fabric.

You are grateful you chopped the wood yesterday because the snow starts to fall while you sew the prince’s third shirt.

You are so busy with your task you don’t even hear Ubbe’s arrival. He stops at the entrance watching you work with a focused face. Your tongue even peaks out between your lips as you try to follow the shirt’s line. Your hair is loosely braided and a little bit messy after cooking and washing.

“It’s cold outside,” he says after a while, and you jump a little in fright.

“Oh, my prince,” you laugh a little at your reaction and nod at his words. “Yes, but you have enough wood for a few days.”

“Thank you,” he says, walking to the bowls full of food. “It smells good.”

“I bought new spices from a trader.”

“Come, eat with me,” he nods at the other chair, sitting down at the table.

“I can’t, my prince. I still have things to do,” you argue softly, lifting his tunic in your hands as proof.

“You can do it later,” he replies stubbornly. “I am your prince.”

You feel awkward sitting down in front of him. You start to eat silently, fidgeting on your chair. Ubbe sees your uncomfortableness, but he says nothing. He enjoys these few minutes. He almost imagines another scenario where you aren’t his thrall but his wife.

II.

A few weeks later, you heading towards Ubbe’s hut after you bought a few more spices and pelts for the prince. The winter is colder than you expected, and you can see your breath in the air. Your hands are red because you forget your gloves and you didn’t have the chance to go back for them. You still grateful you escaped from that man who thought he could attack you early in the morning. You know you should be more upset about it, but after a few years of slavery, you get used to it.

“Y/N!” Ubbe yells after you, and after a few steps, he catches up with you. His face a little bit red from the cold and the furs on his shoulders make him much bigger. Like a bear.

“Good morning, my prince,” you greet him with a slight smile.

“Do you need help?” He asks but doesn’t wait for your answer, grabbing the pelts from your arms.

“I bought them for you as you asked me,” you tell him. “The trader said he killed the animal with his bare hands.”

“And you believed him?” He laughs.

“Not really, but he gave them cheaper because I seemed impressed,” you answer with a shrug.

When you get to Ubbe’s home, you put away the spices and the fresh loaves of bread before you set more wood on the fire. You take off the pelt from your shoulders so you can start the breakfast.

“What happened with your dress?” He asks when he looks down on your clothes. At first, you don’t know what he is talking about, but then you notice the tear at your hips. You can see your skin through the hole.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you try to distract him. “Fish will be good for breakfast?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Y/N, what happened?”

“Somebody tried to…” you start but can’t end the sentence. “It doesn’t matter,” you say stubbornly.

For a few minutes, he just stares into your eyes, opening his mouth, but he says nothing. His blue eyes cloudy with conflict, and he chooses to say silent.

III.

The winter does not spare the village. The cold has no mercy, and the snow just gets bigger and bigger every day. Ubbe bought you new boots and warmer clothes and forbade you to do chores outside the hut.

For the last two weeks, the prince acted strange around you. You caught him staring at you several times, and sometimes he looked like he wanted to tell you something.

“It feels like the winter never ends,” Ubbe says from a chair, sharpening the knives you want to use to slice the meat.

“The spring will come. You have to be patient,” you reply. “How is Prince Ivar? I know he hates the cold.”

“The spring will come. He has to be patient,” Ubbe repeats your words with a smile. “He will be fine if his wife doesn’t strangle him in his sleep.”

“She learns patience before their child comes,” you joke.

“Do you want kids, Y/N?” He asks you, handing you the knives.

“A bunch,” you squeak before you return to reality. “I mean… I don’t know,” you continue more calmly.

Ubbe doesn’t answer you, just smiles and goes out to chop more wood while you start cooking.

When you finish, and Ubbe comes back, the sky is already dark, and the outside world is silent.

“If you don’t need me, my prince, I would go back home while I can,” you tell him politely, looking out the window.

“Stay for the night,” he says. “It’s too dangerous.”

“No, I-I…”

“Y/N, please. I would hate it if something happened to you. Sit down and eat with me till it’s warm.”

“Thank you,” you tell him in the end. You know the prince, you wouldn’t win this fight.

You want to sit down at the table, but Ubbe grabs two plates with food and sits down before the fireplace, waiting for you. You feel a little bit embarrassed, but you enjoy it too at the same time. Of course, you could imagine your life without being a thrall, but you are still lucky with Ubbe.  He treats you like a human being who helps him and not like something he could kill at any moment.

When you wake up from your thought, both of your plates are empty, and you want to grab his so you can wash it, but he doesn’t let you. You look up at him, and he is already watching you. His braided hair is messy, and his blue eyes are hypnotizing. The snow is long gone from his beard. Yeah, he is handsome. You never saw Ragnar, but everybody says his son looks exactly like him.

“Do you want more?” You ask him. You don’t understand why he doesn’t let you take his plate.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I thought about something. Honestly, I thought about it a lot for the last few weeks.”

“Something is bothering you?” You ask him. Sometimes he tells you about his problems, and you listen to him and try to help him.

“It does not really bother, but…” he shrugs. “Everybody says I need a wife.”

“Oh,” you moan breathlessly, but you are not surprised. He is right. He needs a family of his own. Are you jealous? Of course, but you know it’s only natural. All of his brothers are married already. Even Hvitserk and everybody thought he never finds the right woman.

“But there is my problem… I know the woman I want, but I’m not sure she feels the same.”

“Of course, she feels the same,” you tell him. “You would be a good husband and a good dad.”

“And I’m a prince,” he tells you, but you shake your head.

“If that woman really loves you, she doesn’t care you are a trader, a blacksmith, or a prince.”

You want to apologize because you feel you crossed the line, but when you look at him, he smiles at you and grabs your hand to pull you closer to him.

“You are the woman,” he tells you, and you forget how to breathe.

“What?” You ask him, searching his eyes. Maybe he is joking, or you heard him wrong.

“For you to be my wife, you have to be a free woman,” he tells you, and the only thing you can do is nod. “Don’t say yes if you don’t want to. You are a free woman from now on, whatever you say yes or no.”

You don’t even have to think about it. You don’t love him yet because you never let your feelings go that way, but you know you don’t have to force yourself to fall in love with him.

“Yes.”

[phantomchick]

Merlin fic rec list

To Be A King by clotpolesonly Teen And Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Merlin and Arthur, Merlin and Mordred, Gwen/Arthur, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Canonical Character Death, BAMF Merlin, Dragonlord Merlin, Original setting, Magical kingdom, King Merlin, Royal!Merlin Summary: When Merlin discovers that his father was an estranged prince and he himself is now the only heir to the throne of a magical kingdom, he is forced to leave Camelot for the perils of a royal court. Will Merlin be able to win Arthur's favor again before Morgana launches an attack on a defenseless Camelot? Will he be able to defend his own kingdom at the same time or will all be lost? -

A Matter of Sovereignty by Kizmet Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Friendship Summary A visiting prince takes it into his head to brutalize Merlin, but sometimes the solution to a problem is in how you phrase it.

-

Bumps and Bruises by platonic_boner merthur, implied/suspected abuse, Protective Arthur, Magic Revealed, pre-relationship, teen an up, canon typical violence,

Summary: Arthur notices Merlin’s constant injuries, and decides he needs to step in and protect Merlin.

-

Finding Home by riventhorn Arthur/Merlin, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Written for a kinkme_merlin prompt. When Gaius retires a new physician takes over and quickly kicks Merlin out of his room and takes it for himself. Arthur finds Merlin sleeping in the stables...and it's winter.

-

How To Love A Living Thing by Polomonkey Mature, merthur, Merlin/Arthur, Pendragon (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Abuse, Violence, Sexual Harassment, Drowning, Guilt, Romance, Protective Arthur, Mild Sexual Content, Redemption, Healing, Canon Era

Summary Guilt ridden and lonely after his confrontation with Nimueh, Merlin slowly begins to isolate himself from Arthur. When two knights take it upon themselves to teach him his place, Merlin finds himself with nowhere to turn. Will he be able to reach out to his prince before it's too late?

-

Obeisance by casspeach Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: It's not that Arthur won't share his toys, just that he expects to get them back undamaged

-

All's Well That Ends Well by StormDancer explicit, Merlin/Arthur, Arthur Finds Out, magic reveal Summary: Merlin spent the week and a half that Arthur was gone splitting his time between crafting careful explanations that never ended up explaining the important things, the things that would make Arthur listen, and making half-baked plans to escape to Ealdor. He found a number of fire-proofing spells that would have no effect if they decided to cut his head off, and figured out how to adapt an invulnerability spell he had been trying to find a way to cast on Arthur without him noticing so that it would protect him from being decapitated, but it would have no effect on anything but metal. Despite all his frantic searching, he did not find a teleportation spell, because that would have been too simple and if there was one thing Merlin had learned in his years at Camelot, it was that nothing was ever simple.

-

Deeds by the5leggedCricket Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Episode Related, Oblivious Arthur Pendragon, Teen and Up,

Summary: Arthur is coming of age, and that means he’s about to get Deeds—marks on his body telling him of his soulmate’s greatest accomplishments. But as he tries to find his soulmate, he also makes some worrying discoveries about the kind of person his soulmate is.

-

Honorable Intentions by smilebackwards Gwaine/Merlin, Guinevere/Arthur Pendragon, Courtship, Protectiveness, Protective!Arthur, Teen and Up, Summary: There are several considerations Arthur would like to go over, starting with the state of Merlin's virtue.

-

Laundry's Hard Work by supercalvin Gen, Teen and Up, Canon Era, can be read as pre-slash, BAMF Merlin

Summary: Wasn't Merlin supposed to be...tiny? When the hell had he learned to use a sword and not fall on his backside? Where the hell did those scars from? What the hell?

or Arthur still thinks Merlin is the young boy he met ten years ago and he starts to notice things in his manservant that he wasn't aware had changed at all.

-

Fathom Me Out by supercalvin Merlin/Arthur, Canon Era, Magic Revealed, Teen and up,

Summary: After ten years, Arthur thinks he has Merlin all figured out. But as he watches Merlin, he finds out that he has more questions than answers. The longer he thinks about it, the more uneasy he feels. So he pushes it aside. Except, he can no longer ignore the questions he has about Merlin. Not your everyday reveal!fic

-

Loyalty Before Royalty by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, Gwen & Merlin, Arthur and Merlin being the most iconic duo? I think tf not, Gwen and Merlin wreaking havoc? Teaming up against Arthur? That's the most iconic duo there, as usual, Explicit Language, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Arthur is so exasperated, someone help him, good thing he loves them both

Summary: "Where did you get that?" Arthur asked, but he already knew the answer. "Gwen." "...and the horse?" "Gwen." "What about the-" "Gwen." Merlin interrupted. Arthur nodded. At this point, he wasn't sure why he even bothered to ask. He was pretty certain his wife was going to knight Merlin any day now.He looked Merlin up and down for a few moments before accepting it all with a sigh. "As long as you get my armor to me tomorrow...I don't care." He finally said, turning away. Merlin cleared his throat. "Gwen gave me tomorrow off." "For the love of God." Or I hate that Gwen and Merlin's friendship kind of withered away in the later seasons so here's a oneshot about her and Merlin abusing her new royal powers because that's what happens when your best friend becomes queen.

-

Know It All Knight by Shi_Toyu Leon & Merlin, Knights of the Round Table, Magic Revealed, protective leon, Arthur Finds Out, Oblivious Arthur

Summary: Leon couldn’t say for sure when the exact moment was that he figured out Merlin had magic. He’d suspected it for a little while, to be honest. He definitely had it figured out by the time Arthur managed to ‘kill’ the Great Dragon. What Leon could say for sure was the exact moment he figured out that no one else had figured out Merlin had magic.

-

The Nature of Trust by Lynds Merlin's Magic Revealed, Leon is the Mam Friend, Leon is so done, Protective Gwaine, Lancelot Lives, Canon Era, Arthur Finds Out, Hurt Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, reference to hunting and cooking animals Summary: Leon starts to notice that the knights, one by one, are starting to trust Merlin's judgement. That he keeps warning Arthur about danger, and being right. Is there more to Merlin than meets the eye?

-

Repercussions by PeaceHeather Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lecture, Rants, Episode: s02e06 Beauty and the Beast, Episode: s02e05 Beauty and the Beast, Canon Era, One Shot, Gen Summary: Uther married a troll. In canon, that all worked out fine eventually. In this slight canon divergence, there is at least one noble who's not willing to let it slide so easily.

-

No Harm Will Come to You Here by fancyh Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Season/Series 05, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Fluff and Angst, temporary amnesia, teen and up,

Summary: "That was magic," Arthur accuses.

"Oh." Merlin just nods, looking unperturbed.

Arthur fights to keep his expression calm, mind racing and heart pounding. "Sorcery is outlawed in Camelot. On pain of death."

Merlin splutters, finally fixing Arthur with an affronted glare. "It's not like I meant to do it!"

***

Merlin gets hit with a spell meant for Arthur and loses his memory. Revelations ensue. Set sometime after 5x02.

-

Metamorphose by clotpolesonly Merlin/Arthur, Teen and Up, Between Seasons/Series, Episode: s03e01 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part I), Episode: s03e02 The Tears of Uther Pendragon (Part II), Mpreg, Magic Reveal, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, morgana redemption, some transphobic language from Merlin when he finds out he’s pregnant because of magic but it’s mostly just the shock that does it Summary: When Merlin falls into bed with Arthur, he doesn't expect for to wake up alone. He doesn't expect Arthur to give him the cold shoulder either, but there is something else he expects even less which forces him out of the kingdom for over a year. He returns to find a traitor in the court, an army on the way, and a love he'd thought all but lost waiting for him with open arms.

-

Four Days To Fall In Love. by CupCakezys Teen and Up, No archive warnings apply, Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwen, Soulmate AU, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Protective Arthur, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate (or two or three), Arthur Pendragon knows he is destined to be alone. For Arthur can see his heartstring, could follow it to where his soulmate lived, and that could only mean one thing.

His soulmate had magic, and should they ever meet, Arthur would have to kill them.

-

Sacrificial Lamb by RurouniHime Angst and Humor, Pining, First Time, First Kiss, Post Season 1, Initial Misunderstanding, But it’s resolved, Happy Ending, Fluff with a touch of angst at first

Summary: Arthur's been overworking his knights, so they come to Merlin as a last resort.

-

Cheers and Spirits by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, The knights are kinda fools, but the best king, Humour, Fluff, Fluff and Humour, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin

Summary: Despite all the supposed trips to the tavern none of the knights have seen Merlin drunk. They decide to rectify that. A poor decision, really.

-

Circle 'round the Truth by enviropony Merlin + Knights friendship, Gen, Magic Reveal, Oneshot, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin Summary: They know about the magic. Or, more accurately, Merlin's magic is the truth the knights circle around, and Merlin's loyalty is the one 'round which they rally. (A character study with some yelling, an action sequence, and a bit of walking.) Post-S4.

-

Strict Justice by schweet_heart mutual pining, BAMF Arthur, magic reveal, canon au, oneshot, teen and up

Summary: After a particularly grueling battle, Merlin and Arthur share a quiet moment in their tent.

-

before it breaks by schweet_heart Teen and Up, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, merlin whump, magic reveal, merlin & arthur, merthur

Summary: “It’s not what it looks like,” he says, hand still outstretched, barely a waver in his voice as he lies, outright, to Arthur’s face. “Sire, I can explain.”

“Can you,” Arthur says. He’s aware that he’s trembling, a seismic reaction to the outrage and denial still fighting it out inside his head, but he knows what he’s seen. What it must be. “Well, then, you’d better be quick about it, because it looks a lot like magic.”

-

Until the Day I Die by Cookie Teen and Up, Oneshot, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Arthur believed Dragoon had killed his father, and so he plunged his sword deep into the sorcerer. Now Merlin was dying in his arms and Arthur was facing the future alone.

-

These Castle Walls Bleed Lies by marguerite_26 Mature, hurt/comfort, Magic Reveal, Angst, Merthur, mentions of arthur/gwen, Gwen/Lancelot

Summary: With his father unfit to rule and Camelot decimated, Arthur must assume the role of King. But the truths he discovers shake the foundation of all he holds dear.

-

before his eyes (he now sees clear) by hwc Teen And Up Audiences, Uther Pendragon is terrible and complicated, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: It takes Uther half a second to see Balinor in Merlin, and he's almost sure of what he should do.

-

Keep Your Secrets by new_kate, orphan_account Mature, rape/non-con, torture, captivity, romance, alternate universe - canon, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort

Summary: Arthur Pendragon is captured by the bandits. While he waits to be ransomed, he slowly gets to know Merlin, the prisoner being held in the next cell.

-

Crossing the Line by Ultrageekatlarge BAMF Merlin, Gen, Crack, Oneshot, Magic Reveal, Hurt! Merlin, Humour

Summary: In which Merlin gets bludgeoned, strangled, attacked, smothered, shot with glass, and tossed out a window, burned, whipped, stabbed, thrown down stairs, nearly drowned on dry land, and harpooned, and still manages to save Camelot from seven evil sorcerers, before lunch.

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Your Touch Is My Salvation by elirwen Magic Reveal, Canon Era, Oblivious idiots in love, Curses, Teen and Up, Oneshot, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Merlin suffers from an effect of a curse. Arthur can help more than he initially thought.

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A Heavy Heart to Carry by Thursday_Next Rescue, Hurt/Comfort, Magic Reveal, Oneshot, Mature, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Summary: When Merlin is captured and injured, Arthur must face up to his own feelings for his manservant as well as the many secrets he discovers are being kept from him.

-

Can you do that? by no_nutcracker Merlin/Mithian, no archive warnings apply, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, Arthur & Merlin friendship

Summary: Merlin should be overjoyed. He just found his soulmate. If only she was not betrothed to Arhur.

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His Remedy for Care by ArgentSleeper Teen and Up, canon au, Episode: s02e13 The Last Dragonlord, Angst, Canon Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Fix It

Summary: Injured in the dragon attack in lieu of Arthur and afraid of being stopped from going on the mission, Merlin kept away from Gaius and never learned that Balinor was his father. Instead it's Arthur that puts two and two together as he seeks the dragonlord out, first to save his servant (not friend- they can't be friends), then to save his kingdom.

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A Considerable Head Start by ughbutidontwantto BAMF Merlin, Gen, when villains have more regard for you than friends, Camelot has a serious class problem, Merlin deserves better

Summary: Merlin is frighteningly competent and his friends are correctly concerned. Obviously they're going to follow him out to the woods. And obviously they're not going to like what they hea

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The Conscience of the King by ughbutidontwantto Gen, Post-Magic Reveal, Legal Drama, Oneshot, Friendship feels

Summary: Merlin's magic was revealed and now everyone has to deal with it in an official capacity since tragically most of these characters work in government. Arthur, predictably, is struggling to cope.

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Out of Sight, Out of Mind by BabyStepsAreStillSteps Merlin Deserved Better, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Episode: s05e09 With All My Heart, Fix It

Summary: When Arthur turned his back on the Dolma that he didn’t know was his manservant, Merlin reminded him that he was missing a very important member of their rescue party.

What if he hadn’t?

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What They Owe Us by ironspidereilish Merlin/Arthur, Alternate Universe, Aredian’s a tax collector instead of a witch hunter but he’s still a bastard, Hurt/Comfort, Poverty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective Arthur Pendragon, BAMF Arthur, Canon Era, Romance, sexual coercion mentioned, BAMF Merlin

Summary: When Arthur finds out that the castle staff are having their wages held for weeks at a time and can no longer afford food or their homes, he will not rest until they are protected and Aredian is stopped.

The fact that Merlin’s stomach is rumbling while he delivers the prince his breakfast, and Arthur hates the thought of him suffering, only serves as extra motivation to fix this.

-

royal blood by Rona23 crack!fic, humour, comedy, Balinor Lives, Dragonlord things, Golden Age, Bamf Arthur, Bamf Balinor, Bamf Merlin, Fix It, Magic reveal, Oblivious Arthur, Merthur

Summary: ..... as if Balinor could be killed by Bandits O.o

Alternatively: An alternative take on Balinor surviving and saving Camelot. ... And then proceeding to hold the entire kingdom hostage, because he has a frigging Dragon at his disposal :)

- The way by Naelyn Episode: s04e11 The Hunter's Heart, POV Arthur Pendragon, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oblivious Arthur, Until He’s Not, Hurt/Comfort, Merlin Deserved Better, Communication or lack thereof, Canon Divergence

Summary: "One more word out of you, and I swear to God I will send you into exile."

He knows it’s not the pyre, knows there’s much worse, but banishment would mean staying away from Arthur forever – and, as pathetic as that might sound, he thinks he would rather die than let that happen. It is clear that the feeling is not reciprocated, clear that in Arthur’s eyes, he will never come first. There’ll always be people coming before him, and he’s made peace with that long ago – but if even Agravaine can come before him, then anyone could, no? Anyone could replace him. Call Merlin a traitor and have Arthur get rid of him. Anyone could.

Merlin no longer feels safe in Camelot.

or: Arthur threatens Merlin of banishment. To Arthur's eyes, it's all forgotten. To Merlin's, however... Well, let's just say that his faith in their mutual destiny, once unwavering, finds itself faltering at a dangerously quick rate.

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Better in the Mourning by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle Gen, Lancelot & Merlin, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin, Grief, Fluff and Angst, Gwen/Lance mentioned, let the characters grieve, 5 Knights of Grief

Summary: Merlin mourns Lancelot's death. The rest of the knights help out. (AKA Merlin gets to take advantage of not having to keep a dead loved one a secret and gets some goddamn support in this castle)

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I suppose that I look different (without the robes and crown) by WingedWolf121 Canon Era, Episode: s05e03 The Death Song of Uther Pendragon, Uther Pendragon’s A + Parenting, Ygraine/Uther, Arthur/Merlin, Balinor/Hunith, Dragonlord Merlin, BAMF Merlin, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When Arthur blows the horn of Cathbdhah for the second time, the horn doesn’t just send Uther to the other world. It sends Arthur away as well – to a world where Ygraine never died, the Great Purge never happened, and magic lives freely at court. As do those who practice it.

-

For Your Information by reni_days Merlin & Uther, Merlin/Arthur, Modern Era au, Oneshot, Teen and Up

Summary: Merlin sighs. "After your...announcement," he explains, "your father decided he needed a bit more information. Which is apparently where I come in. I'm sort of like his gay tutor, it's hard to explain."

-

Good Fortune by platonic_boner Canon Era, Fluff, Merlin/Arthur, Oneshot

Summary: Arthur makes Merlin a lord, and Merlin does an astonishingly good job of running a village.

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Within Reach by foxy_mulder Explicit, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sex, Merlin/Arthur, Angst with a Happy Ending, Oneshot, Slowburn

Summary: Nobody touches Arthur.

Merlin realizes it slowly, and when he does, he wants to kick himself for not seeing sooner. ___________ (Or, Arthur and Merlin's relationship with touch over time.)

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Moment of Weakness by TheAsexualofSpades Gen, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Protective Knights, Protective Arthur Pendragon, Protective Merlin, Whump, Oneshot, Merlin/Arthur

Summary: After all Merlin's gone through, you'd think it would take some world-ending magic spell or an almost successful attempt on Arthur's life to shake him properly.

It isn't one of those, and Merlin has no idea why.

He just knows he can't be weak.

-

The Only Reward Bestowed Upon Me by greatdumbking Gen, Oneshot, Merlin/Arthur, angst, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Episode: s04e05 His Father's Son, Fix-It, Agravaine, Canon Era, Love Confessions

Summary: “You’re wrong Merlin. I don’t need anyone. I can’t afford that luxury. The kingdom's my responsibility now, and mine to bear alone. And you must learn to accept that.”

How could this hurt so much, a third time? Merlin could feel the façade of his casual indifference faltering. His face fell, tears were clawing at his throat, creeping into his eyes. It took all his effort to nod, steel his eyes, and swallow down the rising sob.

(How did Merlin get chosen the be the bait? Why did Arthur start pushing Merlin away? Why couldn't he see how much it was hurting him?)

-

Maybe Not the Most Awkward Dinner to Happen in Camelot's Citadel, but it's Definitely Up There by HopePrevails Gen, Gwen/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Oneshot, Humour, past Gwen/Merlin

Summary: When an argument about whether Merlin is remotely attractive or not breaks out over dinner, Queen Guinevere accidentally drops into the conversation that she had a crush on him when he first arrived in Camelot. Arthur takes it... like Arthur.

--x--

“Don’t look so surprised, Merlin.” Gwen said kindly. Perhaps she was the psychic. “You’re sweet and gentle, charismatic-” Arthur snorted. “- and I’m not going to let you walk out of those doors thinking you don’t look the part, either. Remember, even when you first came to Camelot, I-” She stopped herself, snapping her lips tightly shut.

-

[fortunatelyfresco]

A Holistic Integration of Type 1 Narcolepsy into the Reading of Moist von Lipwig

Literary Interpretation, Disability, and Finding Yourself Between the Lines

As it goes, "I wrote this for me, but you can read it if you want." It might be a fun ride for anyone who is very interested in Moist von Lipwig, or narcolepsy, or both, and/or anyone who enjoys collecting small details from within a body of work and arranging them into threads that are supportable by the text, without being actually suggested by it.

Personally, I find it very interesting to read the meta behind different headcanons, and see how creators can unintentionally write a character who fits certain criteria. There are only so many traits, after all, and some of them tend to travel in groups! Humans are pattern seekers, etc etc.

The first step of reading Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic is wanting to read Moist von Lipwig as narcoleptic. Being narcoleptic myself and relating heavily to Moist, this step was very easy. I invite you to take my hand and come along, at least briefly, if you were interested enough to click the readmore.

Once you have taken that step, things start falling into place. At least they do if you're intimately familiar with narcolepsy, or if you first learn about it in detail through, for instance, a Tumblr post with an agenda :)

I'll break this down symptom by symptom, citing only the ones I both have personal experience with and see textual support for.

I'll be using OverDrive's search function to catalogue "evidence" in (the American editions of) Going Postal, Making Money, and Raising Steam, so I might miss passages that don't use certain keywords.

Please take any statements along the lines of "being narcoleptic means X" with a huge grain of salt. Sometimes it's just more succinct. Narcolepsy can manifest in many different ways, and is still being actively studied. Don't base your entire understanding of it on a fandom essay I wrote to cope with the crushing pressures of capitalism. I have not even fully read the scientific studies linked here as sources.

Here we go! Spoilers abound.

I. Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (EDS) and sleep attacks.

Being narcoleptic means (salt now, please) that your brain does not get adequate rest while you sleep, no matter how much you sleep. This is because of a disturbance in the order and length of REM and NREM sleep phases. This leads to constant exhaustion. Some sources describe narcoleptic EDS as "comparable to [the sleepiness] experienced by a healthy individual who has been sleep-deprived continuously for 48–72 hours."

(Source.)

Sleep attacks can come on gradually or suddenly. In my case, I become irritable and easily overwhelmed, and nothing matters except finding a place to lie down. A more severe attack, under the right circumstances, can put me to sleep while I'm actively trying to stay awake and engaged.

Moist refers to 6:45 am as "still nighttime." He is "allergic to the concept of two seven o'clocks in one day" and is "not good at early mornings," and the narration even cites this as "one of the advantages of a life of crime; you didn't have to get up until other people had got the streets aired."

In Going Postal, he repeatedly falls asleep at his desk. I can only find two instances, but the first one describes it as having happened "again," so it happens at least three times over the course of one week. Both of the times I found were after Mr. Pump cleared his apartment, giving him access to a bed, and I can't find any reference to the fire destroying it—just that his office is "missing the whole of one wall." His presumably wooden desk is still intact, even, just "charred."

There's also no build-up either time. No direct narration of the time right before he falls asleep, just retroactive accounting for it.

Which is primarily a function of stories not showing us every boring second, and secondarily one of the smaller ways we're shown Moist being overwhelmed and racing to keep up with himself, but tertiarily it's a great set dressing if you've already decided he's narcoleptic. Sometimes sleep is just a thing that happens, without any deliberate transition. Sometimes you sit down to catch your breath or get some paperwork done, and wake up several hours later.

I've found only one example in GP of Moist waking up in his actual bed at the post office: the morning after being possessed by all the undelivered letters. Presumably either they put him there, or Mr. Pump did.

There are two points in Making Money where Moist, in an effort to be a comforting and/or guiding hand, advises people to get some sleep. First Owlswick Jenkins, and then one of the clerks (Robert) who is worried about Mr. Bent.

I take the optimistic view that this is Moist genuinely caring about these people, not just trying to get them to do what he wants. He has always done some combination of those things (GP opens with him having befriended his jailers, after all), but there's definitely a thread of him learning to treat both himself and those around him more like real people. (See also.)

Looking at this thread through narcolepsy-colored lenses, you get Moist perhaps drawing from his own experiences in an effort to be helpful. In Owlswick or Robert's position, what is something he would want to hear from the man currently in charge of his fate, or at least his job? "Get some sleep."

If we accept this as a pattern, it culminates in Raising Steam, when Moist starts to worry about "Dick Simnel and his band of overworked engineers," fixating particularly on their lack of sleep.

What sleep they got was in sleeping bags, curled up on carriage seats, eating but not eating well, just driven by their watches and their desire to keep the train going.

[...]

"People are going to die if we push them any further," he said to Dick. "You lot would rather work than sleep!"

[...]

The young man swayed in front of him and Moist's tone became gentle. "And I see now that part of my job is to tell you that you need some rest. You've run out of steam, Dick. Look, we're well on the way to Uberwald now, and while it's daylight and we're out of the mountains it's going to be the least risky time to run with minimum crew. We're all going to need our wits about us when we get near the pass. Surely you can take some rest?"

Simnel blinked as if he'd not seen Moist the first time, and said, "Yes, you're right."

And Moist could hear the slurring in the young man's speech, caught him before he fell and dragged him into a sleeping compartment, put him to bed, and noted that the engineer didn't so much fall asleep as somehow flow into it.

Moist then recruits Vimes to help him talk the rest of the engineers into getting some rest. The two of them briefly commiserate about people not realizing how important it is.

"I have to teach that to young coppers. Treasure a night's rest, I always say. Take a nap whenever you can."

"Very good."

II. Insomnia.

This is a lesser-known but very common symptom of narcolepsy. Or a comorbidity, depending on how you look at it. It seems counterintuitive if narcolepsy has been presented to you as "sleeping all the time," but it makes sense once you know it's really a matter of disruption in the brain's ability to regulate sleep cycles.

The case for this symptom is flimsier, and I fully admit I'm just reading my own experience into it. But here are two excerpts from Going Postal that I find quite suitable for my sleepy agenda:

1. "A man of affairs such as he had to learn to sleep in all kinds of situations, often while mobs were looking for him a wall's thickness away."

I latched hard onto this detail the first time I read GP.

At my worst, I could not get more than a couple hours of sleep in my bed. I kept taking naps in the bath because it was one of the few places I could sleep. It seemed to fulfill some of the criteria (isolation, temperature control, etc) that my brain demanded in exchange for playing nice.

We're told over and over again, throughout Moist's books, that he functions best under pressure.

(Brief aside: This is often cited as a reason to interpret Moist as having ADHD, which I'm also fully on board with. Not coincidentally, narcolepsy and ADHD share a few symptoms, have a notable comorbidity rate, and are treated with some of the same medications. Source.)

So again, if you're already inclined to read Moist as narcoleptic, the following is an easy jump:

"Moist thinks he's good at sleeping in strange places under strange circumstances. This is because A) his basis for comparison is a disordered attempt to sleep in normal places under normal circumstances, B) something about danger satisfies his brain into running more smoothly, and C) he's a resourceful person who is 'not given to introspection,' and so is less likely to wonder why his body demands sleep at strange times and more likely to focus on finding a place for that sleep to happen, and chalk this up later as a skill."

And returning briefly to EDS: Why would someone like Moist waste time finding a safe place to sleep while people are actively trying to kill him? At the beginning of GP, he leaves Vetinari's office and immediately goes on the run. In multiple books, when he feels threatened, his brain instinctively launches into complex escape plans. We see him successfully blend into an Ankh-Morpork crowd at least once after becoming a public figure.

So why bother? After all, a safe place to sleep is also a safe place to change clothes, or at least remove whatever distinguishing features he's given himself. Why wouldn't he just become someone else and leave town immediately?

The obvious answer is that sometimes things just happen, and an author doesn't need to know or explain every single detail of a character's past.

I would suggest, though, that one of those things might be Moist reaching a point where sleep is just not optional. A point where he not only doesn't, but can't, care about anything else. Where he is too tired to think straight, too tired to talk his way out of trouble, too tired to even contemplate the long journey from one town to the next.

2. "Moist knew he ought to get some sleep, but he had to be there, too, alive and sparkling."

Sometimes (especially in combination with underlying mental health issues) narcoleptic sleep deprivation can bypass everything I've described so far, and lead straight into a manic state. You won't necessarily find that on Google, but it's been my experience.

That's obviously not what the text is implying. "Alive and sparkling" is just a very relatable description. And we do often see Moist getting away from himself, speaking without thinking, making absurd promises that he justifies immediately afterwards as Just Part Of Being Him, always raising the stakes.

And here are a couple of excerpts from Raising Steam that could be interpreted as Moist being a light sleeper, AKA struggling to get deep sleep:

1. "And slowly Moist shut down, although a part of him was always listening to the rhythm of the rails, listening in his sleep, like a sailor listening to the sounds of the sea."

2. "All Moist's life he'd managed to find a way of sleeping in just about every circumstance and, besides, the guard's van was somehow the hub of the train; and although he didn't know how he did it, he always managed to sleep with half of one ear open."

Moist is exactly the kind of opportunist to see that as a useful tool, isn't he?

III. Hypnagogic and Hypnopompic Hallucinations.

These are hallucinations that come on as you're falling asleep or waking up. They can also happen during REM intrusions while you're awake. My most memorable ones include piano notes, someone calling my name, being trapped in the waves of a large body of water, and a huge truck going over a guard rail and tumbling down a hill. These are often, but not always, accompanied by sleep paralysis (and sleep paralysis is often, but not always, accompanied by hallucinations).

In GP, Moist casually cites his own hallucinations as proof that what is happening at the post office is not one.

"They're all alive! And angry! They talk! It was not a hallucination! I've had hallucinations and they don't hurt!"

Obviously that's not true for everyone, but it's true for Moist, and he has enough experience that he immediately recognizes the difference.

At one point while awake, Moist "[snaps] out of a dream of chandeliers" to realize someone has approached him to talk, while he was busy having visions of what the post office used to look like/could look like again.

Now, that's cheating, because we're probably supposed to assume it's a side effect of being possessed, but... I'm putting it here anyway.

There is also perhaps a case to be made for the tendency of Moist's internal monologue to lapse into extremely specific and prolonged hypotheticals. The lines between hallucinations, waking dreams, and "regular" daydreams have always been very blurry to me. I'm especially curious about the example at the end of Going Postal, which goes like this:

"Look, I know what I'm like," he said. "I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I just wanted to prove to myself I'm not like Gilt. More than a hammer, you understand? But I'm still a fraud by trade. I thought you knew that. I can fake sincerity so well that even I can't tell. I mess with people's heads—"

"You're fooling no one but yourself," said Miss Dearheart, and reached for his hand.

Moist shook her off, and ran out of the building, out of the city, and back to his old life, or lives, always moving on, selling glass as diamond, but somehow it just didn't seem to work anymore, the flair wasn't there, the fun had dropped out of it, even the cards didn't seem to work for him, the money ran out, and one winter in some inn that was no more than a slum he turned his face to the wall—

And an angel appeared.

"What just happened?" said Miss Dearheart.

Perhaps you do get two...

"Only a passing thought," said Moist.

In-universe... what is Adora reacting to? What did just happen? The fact that these incidents are not isolated to Going Postal is a point against it being some sort of literal timeline divergence caused by The Spirit Of The Post.

So maybe Moist visibly zoned out. Maybe he had some kind of minor but noticeable cataplexy attack (more on those later) as part of a REM intrusion, brought on by the intense emotions he's currently struggling with.

IV. Vivid Dreams.

Again, at least some of this is probably supposed to be part of the possession, but I've been professionally projecting myself onto the surreal dreams of magically afflicted characters for years. Do try this at home.

1. "Moist dreamed of bottled wizards, all shouting his name. In the best tradition of awaking from a nightmare, the voices gradually became one voice, which turned out to be the voice of Mr. Pump, who was shaking him."

2. Moist is uneasy about the Smoking Gnu's plan, and then he has an extremely detailed dream about the Grand Trunk burning down.

This culminates in "Moist awoke, the Grand Trunk burning in his head," followed by a paragraph of him thinking things through and starting to form his own alternative plan, followed immediately by "Moist awoke. He was at his desk, and someone had put a pillow under his head."

So he fell asleep at his desk, woke up from a vivid nightmare, was awake just long enough for a coherent train of thought, and then passed back out. Which once again is not "proof" of anything, but fits the predetermined interpretation like a glove.

V. Cataplexy.

Cataplexy is a sudden loss of muscle control, usually triggered by strong emotions. This is thought to be a facet of REM intrusion—waking instances of the atonia that is meant to stop us from acting out our dreams.

The most well-known manifestation is laughter making your knees buckle, but it's not always that severe. My own attacks range from facial twitching, usually when I'm angry or otherwise extremely upset, to all-over weakness/immobilization and near-collapse when I laugh. My knees have fully buckled once or twice.

This is the biggest stretch. This is the one that is absolutely only there if you've already decided to read entire novels between the lines. It's also not even necessary for the broader headcanon; plenty of people have narcolepsy without cataplexy (or such mild cataplexy that it's never noticeable, or very delayed onset, etc).

However. I am doing this for fun. So I want him to have it. It's also become a major part of how I imagine Moist engaging with emotion, and I'd like to make a case for that.

There are a few scattered references to Moist's legs shaking, or being unsteady, or outright giving way, but there's usually an external physical reason, and/or enough psychological shock to justify it without a medical condition.

The most compelling example I've found so far comes from Moist and Adora's conversation about people expecting Moist to deliver letters to the gods.

"I never promised to—"

"You promised to when you sold them the stamps!"

Moist almost fell off his chair. She'd wielded the sentence like a fist.

"And it'll give them hope," she added, rather more quietly.

"False hope," said Moist, struggling upright.

"Almost fell off his chair" at first sounds like casual hyperbole, but then "struggling upright" implies it was a bit more literal. It's also an accurate description of me recovering from my more severe attacks, supporting myself on a wall or my spouse, or pushing myself up if I've fallen over in bed.

That happens to me multiple times per day, by the way. It doesn't bother me, and I didn't realize there was anything unusual about it for a long time. I barely think about it, except to fondly note that my spouse is good at making me laugh.

Which is to say, even severe cataplexy is not always noticeable or debilitating. Sometimes it absolutely is! It can be downright dangerous, depending on where you are, what you're doing, and whether you have any other conditions it might exacerbate. I don't want to undermine that.

I am just hell-bent on justifying the idea that this fictional character could have repeated attacks throughout the canonical narrative that are so routine they don't merit an explanation, or even a description. Especially for someone who is used to hiding his few distinguishing features behind false ones that are much more memorable. (See also.)

(That link goes to my own fanfic. Sorry.)

On the milder side, between Going Postal and Making Money, there are three instances of Moist's mouth "dropping open" when he's shocked, upset, confused, or some combination of the three. This is the kind of thing that shows up a lot in fiction, but rarely happens so literally in real life.

(There's technically a fourth instance, but I'm not counting it because it seems to be a deliberate choice on his part to convey surprise.)

And then there's laughter. Or rather, there isn't. I could be missing something, but I've searched all three books for instances of laughter and various synonyms (not counting spoken "Ha!"s), and what I've come up with is:

Moist laughs once in Going Postal, when he receives the assignment for the race to Genua.

Two packages were handed over. Moist undid his, and burst out laughing.

There's also an instance earlier in the book where Moist nearly "burst[s] out laughing."

I find the specifics here interesting, and, for our purposes, fortuitous. Cataplexy is complicated and presents differently for everyone. In my case, when laughter triggers an attack, one of the effects (which is sometimes also a cause) is that I laugh very hard, with little or no control. "Burst out laughing" is quite apt.

Let's move on to Making Money, and start with a quick tangent:

Mr. Bent explains that he has no sense of humor due to a medical condition, and that he isn't upset about this and doesn't understand why people feel sorry for him.

Moist immediately starts in with "Have you tried—" before getting cut off by the frustrated Bent.

Out-of-universe, "Have you tried" is such a well-known refrain to anyone with an incurable condition, I'm not at all surprised to find it in a book written by someone who had at least begun the process that would lead to a diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's. And Pratchett has certainly never shied away from portraying ignorance in his protagonists.

In-universe, it feels a little odd. Moist's tongue runs away from him all the time, but usually in the form of making ridiculous claims or impossible promises. Moist's entire stock-in-trade is People Skills, and it feels strange for him to make this kind of mistake immediately after being told Mr. Bent is not looking for solutions.

But if one were reading with, for instance, the idea in mind that Moist himself has an incurable condition related to laughter and is enthusiastic about, but still relatively new to, the practice of drawing on his own experiences to help people... it is easy to imagine the gears in his head turning the wrong way, superimposing those experiences over the tail end of Mr. Bent's explanation. Disabled people are not immune to these well-meaning pitfalls.

There is another Mr. Bent moment that I want to discuss, but we'll circle back around to it later.

I found two instances of Moist himself laughing in MM.

1. "He said it with a laugh, to lighten the mood a little."

This is deliberate laughter, employed as a social tactic. A polite chuckle, probably. Not the sort of thing that generally triggers cataplexy.

2. "Moist started to laugh, and stopped at the sight of her grave expression."

The first and only involuntary laugh in MM. It doesn't always trigger attacks...

Which brings us to Raising Steam. Compared to the first two books, Moist laughs a lot here. I count nine instances. Two of them are "burst out laughing"s, a couple include him as part of a group, some of it comes off as deliberate, and some of it doesn't.

I've always seen a lot of... rage in Raising Steam. Combing through it for laughter, I realized Moist's emotions in general are much closer to the surface here, and he's much less concerned about letting people see them. He laughs with friends and acquaintances, he cries in front of strangers, he shouts at Harry King, he has that entire conversation with Dick that boils down to "I'm very worried about you," etc.

Opinions vary wildly and sharply on Raising Steam. I have my own hangups with it, as I do with most books in the series. (Every time I make a new Discworld post, Tumblr passive-aggressively suggests the tag "my kingdom for a discworld character who is normal about women and other species.")

But I like this particular change in Moist, and I choose to see it as character development. He's trading in the professional detachment of a conman for the ability to grow into himself as a person and make meaningful connections.

So, what does that have to do with cataplexy? A lot.

I don't want to get too maudlin, so I'll just say I have plenty of personal experience with emotional repression masking cataplexy symptoms. And so, I believe, does the version of Moist we've put together over the course of this post.

Which brings us back to Making Money, and Mr. Bent. He says something about Moist that I find very interesting: "I do not trust those who laugh too easily."

Unless I've missed something, at that point in the book, Moist has never actually laughed in front of him. And Mr. Bent is a man who pays very close attention to details.

So, what is the in-universe explanation for this? I'd like to propose that Moist is very skilled at seeming to laugh, without actually laughing. He smiles, he's friendly, and he makes other people laugh, which is another thing Bent dislikes about him. He gives the impression of being someone who laughs a lot. (He certainly left that impression on me; I was very surprised by the lack of examples in the first two books.)

Even staying strictly within the bounds of canon, it's easy to imagine why this might have become part of Moist's camouflage in his previous life. He wasn't looking to get attached to anyone, and he didn't want anyone getting inside his head. Engaging with people genuinely enough to laugh at their jokes would run counter to both of those things, but some of his personas still needed to come off as friendly and sociable.

Still working within the canon, it makes sense to assume he's similarly distanced himself from emotion in general. He sits in a cell for several weeks without truly believing he's going to die. He's bewildered when Mr. Pump points out that his schemes have hurt innocent people. He has no idea what to do with his feelings for Adora. Etc.

Interpreting Moist as having cataplexy adds an extra element of danger. Moist thrives on danger, but there's a difference between the thrill of a con and the threat of sudden, uncontrollable displays of vulnerability. And so it becomes even easier to see him stifling his own emotional capacity.*

We meet Moist at a moment of great upheaval. He is forcibly removed from his cocoon of false identities, and pushed out into the world as himself. And we are shown and told throughout Going Postal that he does not know how to be himself. (See also.)

He is repeatedly stymied by his own emotions. He gets tongue-tied and confused around Adora, he snaps at Mr. Pump, he lashes out at Mr. Groat, he gets lost in school flashbacks when he meets Miss Maccalariat. This thread continues in Making Money, where the sudden reappearance of Cribbins immediately rattles him into making an uncharacteristic mistake.

I called him Cribbins! Just then! I called him Cribbins! Did he tell me his name? Did he notice? He must have noticed!

Later in the same book, Moist misses a crucial opportunity to run damage control on the bank's public image... because he's excited to see Adora.

The Moist of GP and MM is not used to feeling things so deeply. It throws him off his game. I'm not at all suggesting cataplexy is the only (or even primary) reason for that, but I do think there's room for it on both sides of the cause and effect equation.

With or without the cataplexy, I find Moist's relative emotional openness in Raising Steam... really nice. (It's a work in progress. He's still getting a handle on anger.)

Cataplexy just adds another dimension. A physical manifestation of emotional vulnerability, which would have been especially untenable for a teenager on the run. Just one more facet of the real, human, fallible Moist von Lipwig who spent years buried beneath Albert Spangler and all the rest.

Another piece of himself that Moist is growing to understand and accept, as he learns to more comfortably be himself.

The Moist of Going Postal runs into a burning building to save lives without fully understanding why he wants to, and justifies it on the fly as an essential part of the role he's trying to play.

The Moist of Raising Steam mindlessly throws himself under a train to save two children, and then blows up at Harry King about the lack of safety regulations. Freshly traumatized by the murder of several railway workers and his own violent, vengeful response to it, he still offers, in the face of Harry's own grief, to be the one to inform their families. On a long and dangerous journey with plenty of moving parts to think about, he worries about Dick Simnel and the other engineers, and pushes them to take better care of themselves.

He also meets a bunch of kids who nearly derailed a train as part of a childish scheme. His admonishment is startlingly vivid.

"Can you imagine a railway accident? The screaming of the rails and the people inside and the explosion that scythes the countryside around when the boiler bursts? And you, little girl, and your little friends, would have done all that. Killed a trainload of people."

[...]

"I'll square this with the engine driver, but if I was you I'd get my pencil and turn any clever ideas you have like this into a book or two. Those penny dreadfuls are all the rage in the railway bookshops."

Maybe what he is also saying, between the lines, is:

I left home at 14 and began a life of smoke and mirrors. I was empty inside, and I thought everyone else was, too. It was all fun and games, and then a man made of clay told me I was killing people. Nip it in the bud, child. Write books.

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

*There are studies suggesting that in addition to deliberately employed "tricks," people with cataplexy may experience physiological reactions in the brain meant to inhibit laughter. (Source 1, Source 2.)

Most of the information here is way over my head, but that second link also says "one region of the brain called the zona incerta (meaning 'zone of uncertainty') was only activated during laughter in people with narcolepsy, not in controls. Research on the zona incerta in animals suggests that it also helps to control fear-associated behavior."

The linked article about that (https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-018-03581-6) is also over my head, but I would certainly describe Moist von Lipwig as having unusual fear responses.**

**Narcolepsy is a fun roller-coaster ride of constant scientific discoveries about exactly which parts of your brain are paying too much attention, not paying enough attention, or trying to eat each other.

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

Lie For Me (part IV of V) (Part I) (Part II) (Part III)

Pairing - Modern!Ben Solo x Reader

Summary - You haven’t heard anything from Ben Solo, and you can’t figure out why. It takes a run in with Han, a forced doorstep conversation, and a confrontation in a bar for you to get any answers. Once you do, you’re even more confused than you were to start with. 

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - Language and a small bit of violence, but that’s it! 

It had been over a week since you had heard from Ben Solo. 

You tried not to let that fact bother you. In fact, you didn’t have time to let it bother you, because you were starting your new job today. 

The job that Ben had helped you get. 

That was unimportant though. You had your dream job, and you weren’t going to mess it up for anything. So it was time to focus and prove how you deserved to be here. You wore your favorite outfit, woke up early to make sure you had enough time to get a coffee, and arrived at the bottom floor with ten minutes to spare. 

“Someone’s trying to make a good impression.” A voice from behind you said. 

You turned around with a smile, happy to see a now familiar face. Vic had joined the company at the same time as you, and the two of you had done all of your training together. You got along rather well, and it reassured you to see him first thing this morning. “I could say the same for you. Are you ready for today?” You asked. 

“Ready as can be. Want to walk up together? I want to see the new office.” He teased you. 

Grinning at him, you nodded. It was a new perk that you enjoyed, having your own office, and you couldn’t deny you were eager to show it off. You led him there, discussing random things in your life until you reached it, unlocking the door and leading him inside. 

“Wow, those are some nice flowers.” He said as he caught sight of the large bouquet sitting in the middle of your desk. Flowers that hadn’t been there the last time you left this room. 

While he explored the rest of your space, you walked over, curious as to where they had come from. When you saw the card that said, “Good luck on your first day.” You assumed that they had to have come from one of your friends, but when you flipped the card over, your stomach plummeted to see the name Ben on the other side. 

This man was really going to ignore you for a week, and then send you flowers for your first day at work and act like nothing was different? A flicker of irritation went through your body, and you placed the card down on your desk. 

Vic called your name, and it took him doing it twice before you heard him. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I was asking if you wanted to go get drinks after work. Celebrate surviving the first day?” He asked, biting his bottom lip as he waited for your response. 

It would be so easy to say yes. You should say yes. You liked being around him, and you knew that he was good company. There was nothing stopping you.

Except for the damn card sitting on your desk and haunting you. 

“I - uh, can I take a rain check?” You asked, sending him a small smile. “I already have plans tonight with some friends.” It wasn’t a lie . . . but you . . . you couldn’t do it. Besides, if someone saw you with a guy who wasn’t Ben, and the word somehow got around to Ben’s parents who thought you were dating . . . 

Even though the relationship was fake, you liked Han and Leia. You didn’t want them to think any less of you. 

“Sure,” He said, shrugging his shoulders, and to his credit, didn’t seem disappointed at all. “I will be taking you up on that raincheck sometime.” Vic added as he started to back out of your office heading to his own work station. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You said with a smile, waving to him as he closed the door. After he left, you glanced at the clock, and  you realized that you had a couple of minutes until work started.

And that card still sat on your desk. 

You didn’t even think about what you were doing. In seconds, you had your phone out of your pocket, and had selected Ben’s name in your contacts, bringing it up to your ear as it began to ring. Of course, the longer he took to answer it, the more you thought about what a bad idea this must be. But after about four rings, he did answer, his hello rough and low in your ears. 

“Hey, um,” it was a startling revelation to realize that you were kind of nervous. For as long as you had known Ben Solo, you had felt several different emotions around him, but never had you been so anxious to hear his voice. “I - I got your flowers.” 

There was a pause, but only a moment. “I ordered those a couple of weeks ago. I apologize for not cancelling them.” 

“Cancelling them?” Your brow furrowed together as you sat down in your chair, frowning. The two of you were supposed to be dating, and your boss knew that. Why would he have wanted to stop them? Plus . . . they were beautiful, and you had spotted several of your favorite flowers in the arrangement. 

He didn’t give you a chance to ask anything else though. “Someone walked into my office. I’ll talk to you later,” and without waiting for you to say a word, he hung up. 

You looked down at your phone in disbelief at the sudden dismissal, and leaned back in your chair with an annoyed sigh. 

What the hell was going on with him? 

____________________

It was a full week before you found out what had happened. You  had decided to take your lunch break at a nearby park since the weather was nice. You were sitting and enjoying your sandwich when a large, brown mass of fur ran and jumped on you, knocking your food out of your hand and licking all over your face. 

At once a huge smile formed, and you began petting the large dog. “Well, hi there, Chewy. It’s nice to see you too.” You said through your laughter. 

“Get off you fuzzball!” Han’s annoyed voice called, and you glanced up to see the  man in question running in your direction, stopping once he realized who you were. “Oh, hey,” he said, and you watched as he ran a hand through his hair, “sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” you reassured him, giving him an encouraging smile that seemed to put Han more at ease. “I’ve missed the troublemaker.” You said, ruffling the dog’s fur. “I hope there haven't been any more attempts at escape?” 

Han let out a chuckle and sat down beside you on the bench. “Not yet, but I’m sure they’re coming. Damn dog’s almost more trouble than he’s worth.” 

You let out a chuckle of your own, turning your smile to the dog in question. “Well, if you ever need any help catching him, let me know. I wouldn’t mind helping out.” 

At your words, Han gave you a confused look. “You wouldn’t?” 

“Of course not. Why would I?” You asked, giving him your own unsure look. 

Han shifted around in his seat, his brow furrowed as he responded, “Since you and Ben broke up I thought -”

Everything else he said was muted in your head. It felt like you were underwater, your brain trying to catch up with his words. Ben had told his parents that the two of you had broken up? Without even telling you? You understood that there probably wasn’t a reason to keep the ruse going any longer, but a head’s up would have been nice so there wasn’t an awkward situation like this. Now you were scrambling for something to say, and Han was looking at you like he was waiting for you to speak. “Oh, um, right.” 

Thankfully, it seemed your confusion worked in your favor as Han gave you a sympathetic look and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Listen kid, give him time to come to his senses. My son’s got a stubborn side, that he got from his mother of course,” You couldn’t help but give him a small smile at that. “But I can tell he cares a lot about you. He just needs a minute to get his head on straight.” 

Ignoring the way Han’s words made your heart stutter, you nodded. “Yeah . . . maybe that’s all he needs.” 

____________________

This was a bad idea. 

Ever since you had talked to Han this afternoon, his words had echoed in your head, and you hated it. You had never been the type of person to spend hours thinking about a guy’s motives behind his actions, but now it seemed as if your brain could do nothing else. All during work you had been distracted, and that was not how you wanted to be when you were still new. So you weren’t going to let it continue. If Ben wasn’t going to give you any closure on what the two of you had gone through, you would make him. 

Sitting on the porch of his apartment with Poe probably wasn’t the best way to get it, but it was the first thing that you had thought of. 

You had a general idea of what time he came home, and thankfully you had only been sitting there for about an hour when you heard footsteps on the stairs. Your heart did an odd little stutter and anxiety filled your chest as you stood up, but you brushed it aside as best you could, determined to get some answers. 

He was startled to see you, that much was easy to see, but almost as soon as you read it, it was gone, a blank mask replacing the expression as he shrugged his bag higher up on his shoulder. “Are you waiting for Poe? He’s going to be late tonight.” 

“Waiting for -” You gave him an incredulous look. “Of course not. I’m waiting for you. Thought it might be a good idea to talk where your work couldn’t interrupt you.” 

“Well, you’ve never been here to see me, so I thought Poe was the logical conclusion.” Ben said, walking up the remaining steps and beginning to unlock the door. 

A flicker of irritation started to form in your heart, and you clenched your fists at your side. “I ran into Han today.” Even with his back to you, you saw the tension form in his shoulders. “If I had time to prepare, I would have brought a box of your things to return.” 

Ben turned back to look at you then, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess I should have sent you an email. I told them last weekend.” 

“An email?” You repeated, your mouth almost dropping in disbelief. “Is that what I’ve been reduced to now? Not even worthy of an email?” 

He shrugged his shoulders as if his words hadn’t cut into your chest like a knife. “I didn’t expect you to run into my parents anytime soon. I apologize for that. I decided since we both got what we wanted, there wasn’t any need to keep lying.” 

“Don’t you think I should have had some sort of say in -” You started to say, but he cut you off. 

“In what? Our transaction?” 

The breath was robbed from your lungs. You had come here for closure, trying to discern his behavior, and with those words, you had gotten what you wanted. If, no matter everything the two of you had shared, all he saw from this was a transaction? It was obvious where his ‘caring’ feelings stood. 

If only you had been able to keep the same mindset. 

You couldn’t stand to look at him for any longer, knowing what you knew now. You wouldn’t dare let him see how much those simple words had affected you. You wouldn’t let yourself appear weak. “I would have liked a head’s up. That’s all, but you’re right. Whatever we had should end. It was going on for too long anyway.” You said, trying to match his tone. You picked up your bag from the ground, placing it over your shoulder. “Let Poe know I’m sorry I missed him.” You said, and without another word, turned on your heel and headed back to your car. 

A part of you, no matter how small, hoped that he would call you back, run to you and spin you around, kissing you like he had that day in the bathroom, like you were something precious that might slip through his fingers . . . but he didn’t. 

And you didn’t let the tears fall until you were safely in your car. 

 ____________________

It was a lot easier to say what happened between you and Ben hadn’t affected you than to believe it yourself. However, you didn’t think you were that convincing in the first place. Rey and Finn could sense something was wrong. It was obvious in the way that watched your every move, and came up with things to do to keep your mind occupied. You appreciated it, but you hated the fact that they even had to do it in the first place. In fact, you hated that you had let Ben Solo have any affect on you at all. 

Which was why you resolved to not let him have any more. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know.” Rey said as the three of you walked into one of your favorite bars, arms all linked together. 

“We can go back to your apartment, watch the Office again, and order takeout?” Finn suggested. 

“Guys,” you shot them a stern look, one after the other. “I want to be out. I want to do things, and most importantly . . .” You pulled away from them with a smirk, glancing around the bar. “I want to get laid.” 

“You want to . . . what?” Rey asked. 

You turned your attention back to her, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve been stuck in a stupid fake relationship for like three months where I wasn’t getting any, and I’ve been working hard on this new job. I think I’ve earned a bit of stress relief.” 

Finn and Rey exchanged glances. “Of course, if that’s what you want.” Finn said, shrugging his shoulders. 

What you really wanted was to get the sensation of Ben Solo’s lips off of yours, and this was the quickest way to do that. 

Right? 

“Yes, this is what I want.” You reassured them, reaching out to grab both of their arms and tug them towards the bar. “Now let’s get some drinks. First round is on me.” 

____________________

It turned out finding someone to have a good time with was a lot harder than you thought it was going to be. Over the course of two hours, you had talked to around five guys, none of the conversations lasting more than twenty minutes, for purely, you would admit, shallow reasons on your behalf. 

One had the most annoying laughter you had ever heard. Another wouldn’t stop saying “really?” every other sentence. Then there was the guy who had smaller hands than you. If it wasn’t going bad enough, then you met the man who wouldn’t stop smiling with too big of a grin, and after talking to the last one, you realized what was holding you back. 

None of them made your heart race like Ben. 

“I’ve never seen someone looking so miserable at a bar.” A voice said as a body slid in beside you. 

You recognized it at once, turning to give Vic a genuine smile. “Well, I am about to run low on my drink.” You teased him. 

“Guess I’ve got to fix that.” He said, returning your smile as he gestured to the bartender. 

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean -” You tried to stop him, your face growing hot, but he shook his head. 

“You owe me a raincheck remember?” Vic said. 

“All right,” You agreed, watching as he turned back to the bartender and noticing for the first time how nice his eyes were. 

Maybe this night was finally starting to turn around. 

Three drinks later, you found yourself leaning against Vic’s side, snorting with laughter as he told you, Finn and Rey about the most embarrassing first day of a job he’s ever had. “So you just took off?” Rey said, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. 

“Didn’t say a word?” Finn asked, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Vic shrugged his shoulders. “Boss told me to get out of there. So that’s what I did.” He said, taking another sip of his drink. 

“You’re terrible. I can’t believe they hired you.” You teased him, bumping his shoulder. 

“Neither can I.” A low voice interrupted from behind you, a voice that made you freeze in your spot. If you hadn’t known by the voice, the looks on Rey and Finn’s faces told you at once that Ben Solo was standing behind you. 

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t want to look at him because you didn’t know if you could control your expression. Your heart was already pounding heavy in your chest, and if you looked at him . . . 

“Well, if it isn’t Ben Solo.” Vic said, and you glanced at him to find a rather callous grin on his face. A look that you had never seen, and had no desire to see again. 

As soon as you saw it, you couldn’t help it any longer, and looked behind you to Ben who had an equally unpleasant expression on his own face as he stared at Vic. 

It was at that moment that you realized the two of them must know each other. 

And not in a good way. 

You glanced back at Finn and Rey who were looking as confused as you did as they watched the exchange. Rey shrugged her shoulders and Finn raised his eyebrows, so clearly they had no idea what was going on either. 

Turning back to look at Ben, you felt a shiver roll down your spine. You had seen Ben angry several times. Your mind flashed back to that first night the two of you had pretended to be, ‘dating’, when you had overheard those girls talking about you in particular. The burning rage in his eyes almost seemed tame now compared to the look that he was giving Vic. “What are you doing here?” He asked, venom leaking from his tone. 

“Having a drink with a coworker.” He said, and did he lean even closer to your side or were you imagining it? 

Nope. You hadn’t imagined it, because as soon as you noticed it, it seemed Ben did too. His jaw tensed so hard it looked as if it had turned to stone. The fire in his eyes turned them even darker, a dangerous black, as his hands clenched into fists at his side. “Coming to get my girlfriend.” Ben hissed through his lips. 

You barely had time to stutter out the word, “girlfriend?” before Ben had hauled you up out of your chair and wrapped his arm around you. At once, Finn stood up, ready to intervene, but you shook your head at him, not wanting him or Rey involved in whatever this show of testosterone this was. 

“Ah, didn’t know she was your girlfriend considering the way she’s been flirting -” Vic started to say, but you cut him off. 

“Excuse me? If I was flirting with you -”

“Come on, we’re going.” Ben said, tightening his grip around you and tugging you along with him as he headed to the entrance of the bar. 

You thought about struggling. You thought about turning and screaming at him, and you thought about getting out of his arm, running back to the table, and planting one on Vic’s lips right then and there because it was clear how much that would piss Ben off. But you did none of those things, waving Finn and Rey off once more as they both stood to follow you, and allowed yourself to be taken outside where the two of you were alone. 

And then you turned around and let him have it. “What the hell, Solo?!” You yelled, shoving his arm off of you. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, but now that Vic’s involved I am?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” 

To your indignation, he ignored every word you said to him. “What the hell were you doing hanging out with him?! He’s bad news.” Ben said, sounding every bit as furious as you did. 

Which made no sense. “Bad news?” You let out a laugh lacking humor. “Guess he was fooling me, because other than Finn and Poe, he’s the only guy that’s been even somewhat nice to me.” You took a step towards him, invading his personal space. “He doesn’t treat me like a caveman dragging me around everywhere. He doesn’t avoid me. He doesn’t act like I have the plague after I kiss him!” You yelled, punctuating each sentence with a poke to his heaving chest. 

If you hadn’t been staring into his eyes with such intensity you would have missed it. The flash of pain that was gone within a blink of his eyes and replaced with that fiery fury. “You’ve kissed him?” He hissed. 

Out of all the things you had said, that was what he had picked up on? You weren’t sure whether you wanted to cry, laugh, scream or a combination of all three. “No, you asshole! I haven’t kissed anyone or anything since your stupid lips!” 

He looked relieved. 

And it just riled you up more. “You know what? Maybe I should give it a shot. He’s got some nice, kissable lips, might even be a good lay too -”

The breath left your lungs in a whoosh as you found yourself pinned between the cold stone of the building and Ben’s blistering, towering body. Shocked by the sudden movement, you looked up at him, but found the breath gone from your lungs once more. You had been trying to piss him off, make him as angry as you were, and there was no doubt he was from the absolute tension that lingered throughout his whole body. When you stared into his eyes though, you saw something you had never seen there. 

Fear. 

“Stay away from him. You’ll get hurt.” Ben said, his hands gripping your wrists in a tight grip as if waiting for you to haul off and run back in there to him. 

Which a part of you wanted to do, to piss him off, but the biggest part of you was more curious as to why he even cared. After all that talk about  the deal between the two of you being over, what should it matter to him if you got into a relationship that would end badly? “Quit bossing me around like you give a shit what happens to me.” You said, trying to sound as vicious as possible. 

Ben’s grip tightened on your wrist, his eyes tracing over all of the features on your face and leaving heat in their wake. “You think I don’t care about you? Every second of every day I’m fighting not to think about you.” He told you, equal amounts of anguish and anger in his voice. “What you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re at that stupid restaurant with the bad breadsticks that you inist are the best in town -”

“T-that’s because they are.” You stuttered, your mind not able to comprehend the rest of the words he was saying yet. 

“Don’t ever, think for one second, that I don’t care about you.” Ben said, giving your wrists one more squeeze, and then letting them go. 

You watched as he turned and took a step away from you. At that moment, you were stricken with the realization that this could be it. If you didn’t say something right this second, nothing might ever come of you and Ben. 

There was no way you could let that chance pass you by. 

“Then why are you pushing me away?!” You called out to him, making him freeze. “Ben, I . . .” You took a deep breath, forcing the terrifying words to leave your mouth. “I want to be with you. Not in a fake relationship, but a real one.” You said, wrapping your arms around yourself as you took a step forward. 

Ben didn’t move, and kept his gaze locked on the ground in front of him when he spoke. “You think that you want that -”

“No. You’re wrong. No matter how big of an asshole you’ve been . . .” You said, shaking your head. “I know it’s what I want. I thought it that night when we were looking for Chewy, and I knew it when I kissed you. I know you felt it too.” You insisted, even though you knew no such thing, not anymore at least, but you had to hope. “Stop fighting your feelings.” 

You felt the tension release somewhat as he turned to look at you, but his face was so, so insecure that it took your breath away. Even more so when his hand, with the most gentle touch, cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone. You closed your eyes as you felt him draw closer, his forehead resting against yours, his lips so close you could almost taste them. “Why do you always push?” Ben said, but it sounded more like a plea than a question. 

His lips brushed yours, and you knew, without a doubt, you couldn’t do it. If you let him kiss you, you wouldn’t have the strength to stand firm on what you wanted, what you needed. Your hand rested against his chest, exerting enough pressure to stop him. “Don’t,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “Don’t kiss me unless you’re willing to open up to me too.” You opened your eyes, gazing into his intense dark brown ones. “I can’t take it if you don’t.” 

Ben’s eyes closed, almost as if he couldn’t take the emotion in yours. You waited breathlessly for him to say something, do something, and finally he opened his mouth - 

Vic called your name from behind Ben, and your eyes flickered over his shoulder to see him, Rey and Finn a few feet behind, all watching the exchange. “Are you okay?” He asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t care. He just wanted to rile Ben up. 

It worked. As if that switch had been flipped, Ben took a step away from you, turning around to glare at Vic, hiding your body with his own. “She’s fine.” He answered for you. “Now get out of here.” 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Vic snapped, moving so that he could look at you. “You all right, Sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine,” You answered, annoyed at him for interrupting and annoyed at Ben for letting Vic get to him. “I’m ready to go.” You called to Rey and Finn who nodded and went back inside to get your stuff. 

“Do you need a ride to your place?” Vic asked, and before you could say no, Ben answered for you. 

“I’m sure she can get home fine.” Ben hissed, moving to step between the two of you again. 

Vic smirked, taking a step even closer and holding his hand out to you. “He sure is possessive of you isn’t he? I promise if you stick with me, you won’t have to deal with that.” 

Ben stepped forward and good God was he menacing, towering over Vic, who was not short either. Everything about him in that moment screamed dangerous, and you found yourself wanting to take a step back yourself. “If you try to touch her again, you’re going to regret it.” Ben growled, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Ben!” You said, shocked by how angry he was getting when Vic was clearly trying to irritate him for God knows what reason. 

“What are you going to do about it, Solo? Wimp out like last time?” He glanced at you, and then looked back at Ben. “Does she even -”

It happened so fast you almost missed it. One minute Vic was taunting him, the next he was on the ground, clutching his nose, blood hitting the concrete beneath him. “Ben! What the hell?!” You gasped as soon as you realized what he had done, hurrying around him to Vic to check and see if he was okay. “Are you okay?” You asked him, trying to see how bad he was hurt. 

Vic nodded, glaring up at Ben, but didn’t say anything else. 

Biting your lip, you looked up at Ben who was still staring at Vic with poorly concealed fury. “You need to get out of here.” You told him. 

That’s when Ben turned his attention to you, disbelief on his face. “What?” 

Did you want him to go? No, you didn’t, but you couldn’t ignore what he had done. He needed time to calm down, and he wasn’t going to get that here, with Vic hanging around. You couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t goad him into another fight, and that was the last thing that needed to happen right now. “Go, Ben.” You insisted. “Get your head on straight.” You said, the words having more meaning than one. 

You couldn’t miss the flash of hurt that crossed his face, but then it was replaced by something almost worse. He almost seemed . . . resigned. Like he had expected you to order him away, and he wasn’t surprised that you had finally done it. Your brow furrowed, and you started to say something else, but before you could, he had turned and walked away, his hands clenched into fists at his side. 

As soon as he was gone, you turned to look at Vic who was staring after him with a clenched jaw. “Listen, I’m sorry about him, he’s -”

“He’s a dick,” Vic spat, moving away from you and standing up, “and if he’s your boyfriend, you don’t have a fucking idea what kind of person that he is.” 

Your eyes widened at the venom in his tone, and you watched as he stomped away as well, so distracted by his words that you didn’t even notice Finn and Rey coming up behind you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Finn asked, rubbing your back with his warm hand. 

Sighing, you let yourself lean against his shoulder while Rey took your hand. “Not even remotely.” You admitted. “Can we just go back to my place and watch the Office like you guys suggested, and I can pretend I’m crushing on a Jim Halpert instead of a hot head who punched someone and won’t let me in?” 

Rey squeezed your hand with a reassuring smile. “You’re on.”

[purselover2]

Neighbors

Pairing: Bucky and You

Warnings: Language, physical harm, being scared, pissed off Bucky, sweet Bucky, Bucky playing doctor (!!!!), revenge but we don’t see it played out, misunderstanding, did I say Doctor Bucky??

A/N: This for the Bucky Barnes Valentine’s Fic Exchange. I have never been this excited to write an exchange fit for someone. This is written for my lady @constantwriter85 I was sooooooo excited to get your name and I tried my best to give you everything you wanted, hence the 4000+ words. Lol.

I hope you love it as much as I love you. I wish you nothing but Bucky Dreams and Bucky Level Happiness always.

Divider by the amazingly talented @firefly-graphics

Bucky sighed as he got to his door and went inside. It had been a long couple of weeks. He and Sam had been working non stop and Bucky was tired. Just as he went to move inside he heard several sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. Turning his head he was surprised to see Y/N walking towards him flanked by two police officers. Bucky’s guard suddenly went up. Y/N was a school teacher and not one to cause trouble. So that left only one other reason why she was being escorted home. They were with her because something had happened and from what he could quickly asses, it had happened to her. He quickly assessed her and discovered she was favoring her right wrist which was bandaged. Other than the look on her face and the tell tell signs that she had been crying Bucky couldn’t see any other injuries.

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked setting his bag down and nodding at the officers.

“Hi Bucky. Glad you’re home okay.” You couldn’t hide your excitement to see him. A friendly face after everything that had happened earlier, not to mention Bucky always made you feel safe.

“Wish I could say the same, but it looks like you’re anything but okay.” Bucky immediately knew that this wasn’t a simple accident that had hurt her. The presence of what amounted to a police escort meant that something had happened. Someone had happened. Bucky reminded himself to stay calm. She was already upset, she didn’t need him adding to it.

“Yeah.” She answered without really looking him in the eye. Turning to the police officers, “Thank you both for brining me home. I’ll be fine from here.”

One of the officers nodded, while the second looked from her back to Bucky then back to her. “You’re sure?” It was obvious he knew who Bucky was and wasn’t a fan.

“I’m very sure officer. Sargent Barnes is my neighbor and close friend. I’ll be fine.” You smile at them while Bucky tries very hard to not react to how her words made him feel inside.

“Alright then. You have a good evening and we’ll be in touch.” The first officer said and motioned for his partner to follow him. Once they were headed down the stairs, you turned to Bucky and just broke down. Bucky pulled you to him.

“It’s okay. I got you.” He said holding you tight but being mindful of any injuries you might have that he isn’t aware of. “Let’s get you inside.” Without letting you go, he takes your keys and opens your door. Grabbing his bag and your purse he leads you inside. He lets go long enough to close and lock your door and sit the bags over to the side. Then he’s pulling you back to him. He wants so badly to know what happened. Who hurt you. Where they hurt you. Why they hurt you. Mostly the who, so he can go and make sure they know they should have never touched a women, much less your woman. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know she’s yours. The two of you have been friends for over a year, having met when you moved in. She had been a one woman welcoming committee. Bringing you dinner your first night and introducing herself. She was a history teacher at a private school. She was teaching a class the next semester on World War II and she asked if she could ask you some questions, if it wouldn’t bother you or bring up bad memories. She had been a surprise. A delightful one. You never expected to find such warmth and light from another person. Most people stayed clear of you, but not Y/N. She made it very clear she knew who you were, what you are, and what you had been and she didn’t care. Bucky fell in love you right then. That love had grown over the last year as the two of you spent more and more time together. Movie nights, your own bookclub of two, long talks. He never said anything because he didn’t want to ruin what you had by making things uncomfortable and over the last couple of months he had picked up on you pulling back a little. Like you were trying to maybe distance yourself from him. He hoped he was wrong, that his mind was just playing with him. He didn’t think there was anyway you could know how he felt.

You were still crying, soaking his shirt with your tears, breaking his heart. Lifting your head you pull back away from him to look at his face. “I’m sorry. I’d been doing a pretty good job of holding it together and then they left and you were here and I felt safe for the first time since….well since, and I just broke.”

Bucky took the thumb of his flesh hand and whipped away the tears. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m here. What do you need? What can I do?”

“I really want to shower. To get…..to get the feel of everything off me.” You said.

“Alright. How about while you do that, I order your favorites from that thai place?” Bucky said.

You smile at him. “I would love that. They told me the bandages would need changed once they were wet. Do you think you could help me do that?”

“Doctor Bucky at your service.” He replies. “Whatever you need.”

You nod and make your way into your bedroom where it doesn’t take you long to realize you can’t move your arm over your head to remove your shirt. It hurts too much. Its going to take someone helping you. Realizing who that someone is going to be you try to think of any other way. You’re not sure you can handle Bucky seeing you in just your bra. For a year, you’ve fought your feelings, trying hard to never let him know how you felt. That you loved him. There had been a time when you were thinking about letting him know, but thankfully you over heard a conversation he was having on the phone with someone. The other person must have asked about the two of you and Bucky had replied that it wasn’t like that, followed by the phrase, doesn’t do anything for me. That had hurt, more than you wanted to admit. But at least it had saved you from embarrassing yourself. You had decided then to just be happy with what you had with Bucky. But you had wondered if maybe you were spending too much time with him more than normal friends would do. You didn’t want him to feel smothered or like he didn’t have space, so you had started pulling back a little realizing that it was maybe good for your heart to have some distance.

Trying again to get your arm up you had to stop when the pain almost made you pass out. You didn’t realize you had cried out until Bucky burst into the room looking like he was ready for a fight. Seeing that you were alone, he quickly changed his posture and looked at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just hurt my arm trying to get my shirt off.” You really wished you’d worn a button up shirt that day instead of a pull over.

“Need help?” Bucky offered just as it occurred to him what he was offering to do.

“If you don’t mind.” You moved closer to him.

“Never.” He reached down and grabbed the hem of your shirt and started lifting it. He moved it up to your neck and helped you guide your good arm through. Then over your head trying his damndest to keep his eyes locked with yours. Next came the bad arm. “Okay I’m going to as gentle as I can. I’m going to pull it down easy and help you move your arm out of it. If I hurt you at all let me know and we’ll stop. We’ll cut it off.”

Well that’s great. Now you had a visual of Bucky taking one of his many knives and cutting your clothes off. Little did you know Bucky was visualizing the same thing. Taking the shirt he moved it over your shoulder and down to your elbow. He had to look now to make sure he didn’t hurt you. Glancing down he wasn’t prepared for the sight of you in your bra. It was lace and see through. Pink lace with a bow. A fucking bow. Bucky swallowed and moved his eyes to your arm. Gently taking your hand he moved the shirt lower and lower until it was down to your wrist, where it tried to catch on the bandage. Taking his fingers Bucky stretched the material until it slid over your wrist and off your arm.

“There, no cutting required.” He joked.

“Its okay. I don’t intend to ever wear these clothes again.” You said as you looked down at it laying there.

If Bucky wasn’t already thinking the worst he was after that comment. But before he could say anything you turned around. “Do you think you could do one more thing for me and unhook this?” I won’t be able to reach around.”

“Sure.” Reaching forward Bucky took both ends and moved the hooks out of the loops. “There you go.” He said not realized you were both thankful that you’d not worn a front close bra that day.

“Thanks Bucky. I’m going to shower now. I’ll be out in a few.” You moved towards the bathroom and Bucky was left standing there wondering how he was going to fix this. Whatever this was. Once he heard the shower running, he left and went back into the kitchen. Picking up his phone he ordered all your favorite dishes and once he had confirmation he started pacing waiting on you to come out. Finally hearing you coming down the hallway just as the intercom buzzed. He pushed the button and buzzed the delivery guy in.

A few minutes later you sat on the couch feet curled up underneath you and ate. Bucky had made you what he called a sampler plate. Some of everything and you were trying your best to eat it. Finally having enough you sat your plate down and looked over at him.

“I guess you want to know what happened.” You were dreading this conversation. Knowing Bucky you knew how he was probably going to react.

“Yeah, but if you don’t feel like it I understand. But know this. Until you tell me my mind is going to keep coming up with things it could be.” He explained.

“I’m okay. I was attacked by one of my student’s fathers.” You started and Bucky was glad you weren’t looking at him. The word attacked and knowing it was by a man triggered Bucky like no Hydra words ever could.

“He came to see me wanting me to pass his son in my class. His son is a bully and a trouble maker but everyone looks the other way because he donates so much money to the school. I told him no. That it didn’t work that like. That I didn’t pass students based on who their parents were. I based it on their grades and performance. To say he didn’t like that answer is an understatement. He started with the verbal threats. My job, my reputation. I kept saying no over and over. He then offered me money. Money. A bribe. That was then I got pissed. I told him no again and demanded that he leave my classroom. He refused telling me that he was through asking and now he was telling me I was going to pass his son. Got right in my face like I should be scared of him. Little did I know at the time I should have been.” She stopped and took a deep breath. Looking over at Bucky she could tell he was furious. “You okay?” She moved closer to him and took his hand in her good one.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Go on if you’re up to it.” Bucky felt himself calm down some with her touch.

“I had to work late tonight getting some things ready for the Valentine’s Day Dance tomorrow night. It was already dark and since the campus is a closed one with a gate, I didn’t think anything about going out to my car alone. Once I got to my car he was waiting on me. I could tell he was even more upset. I had also officially turned in the grades for this semester before I left and he would have gotten a notification that his son had failed my class. He was livid. Ranting on and on. Calling me names, saying I wasn’t going to ruin his son’s life. I tried to get around him and that’s when he.” You take a deep breath and Bucky rubs his thumb back and forth across your knuckles. “He grabbed me by the wrist. He had such a tight grip on it, I tried to jerk away but when I did, I felt something give in my shoulder. I guess I pulled it out of the socket. I screamed from the pain but he didn’t let go.”

Bucky saw red. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this much anger and the need to beat this guy’s face in was all he could focus on. “Y/N, I need you to tell me this guy’s name.” He tried to sound calm but was failing.

“Bucky no. I’ll be fine. The police are looking for him and I don’t want you to get yourself into trouble. Not for me.” You hang your head and Bucky leans forward and puts his hand on your chin lifting your eyes to meet his.

“Y/N, I’m don’t give a damn about getting into trouble. This piece of shit hurt you and he going to answer to me for it.” Bucky said finally getting his voice to calm down. “Now tell me his name. Please”

He pauses giving you time to respond when you don’t he adds, “You know I can find out anyway. Have FRIDAY tap into the latest police reports and get me a name.”

You turn your head until your check presses into his palm. “Please Bucky. Don’t do this. Let the police handle it. Stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone.” You tell him, then because you know its your ultimate card to play you add “I’m scared.”

Bucky closed his eyes and resolved himself that there would be no hunting tonight. “Alright. I’ll stay. But I am calling FRIDAY and having a squad of Tony’s Legion go out and search as well. This asshole isn’t getting away.”

“Thank you Bucky.” You smile at him.

“You’re welcome doll.” He gives you a half smile and you know its killing him to just sit and do nothing. “Give me a minute to make a call and when I get back we’ll watch something.” He gets up and walks to the door. “I’ll just be out in the hallway, don’t worry.”

When he closes the door behind him, you get up and take your plate into the kitchen having to make a couple of trips because you can’t use both arms. When the mess is cleaned up you go to the bathroom and wonder what Bucky’s saying.

Out in the hallway Bucky was pacing like a caged lion. He wanted to go after this guy. Find him and make sure he understood that hurting any woman was not okay, but to hurt one Bucky cared about was a one way ticket to hell. On the phone with Sam he was filling him in on what had happened. “I appreciate any help you can give me on this one.” Bucky listened as Sam promised to do some digging and he couldn’t promise not to pay the guy a visit himself to which Bucky replied, “No. If it comes down to us having to find him, he’s mine.” Bucky thanked Sam again and after double checking to make sure his apartment door was secure he went back inside Y/N’s apartment a small amount of panic setting in when he didn’t immediately see her. Then he heard her voice coming from the bathroom. She sounded upset and Bucky made his way to the door knocking softly.

“Y/N? You okay in there Doll?” Bucky waited and he heard the door knob twist and then the door opened. She looked up at him and could tell something was wrong. “Tell me.”

“The police called, they still haven’t found him, but there was a break in at the school. My room was trashed.” You explain, not wanting to add the other part, but you should have known that Bucky wasn’t going to not notice, so you tried to change the subject as you pushed yourself past him and back into the living room.

“Y/N, what else did they say?” Bucky was right behind you. Just then his phone dinged with a text. Thinking it might be Sam or FRIDAY, he unlocked the view screen and looked at the picture Sam had sent. “Never mind. I know what they said.” Bucky turned to leave. “Sam is having the Legion surround your building and when I open the door there will a Legion guard there. Don’t be afraid. He’ll protect you until I get back.”

“Bucky! Wait. Don’t go. You promised you say with me.” You walk over to him and touch him with your good hand.

“That was before. Before I saw what he did. I can’t let him stay out there not knowing where he is.” Bucky tried to move but you wouldn’t budge.

“I know we’re friends Bucky, but why does it matter so much to you? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, or going to be.” You rambled not noticing the look that passed over Bucky’s face when you mentioned that you would never be in a relationship.

“Y/N, I know you’d never want to be anything more than my friend, and even though I would like to be more, I respect that. But I do care, and I can’t let you get hurt anymore than you already are.” Bucky picked you up and gently moved you from in front of the door.

“Wait, wait. What do you mean I would never want to be anything ore than your friend? Why would you think that?” You were confused. It was him that didn’t want to be anything more than friends. You had heard him say that you didn’t do anything for him. “It’s you that doesn’t have any interest in me.”

“Y/N, I assure you, I have a great deal of interest in you. We’ll talk about this when I get back. Keep the door locked and don’t open it for anyone other than me or if Legion tells you he needs to extract you, okay?” Bucky leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “Stay safe for me.” And he was gone.

You sat down on the couch and waited. You hadn’t wanted him to know about what else Mr. Anders had done, let alone see it for himself. But you should have known better, had no doubt that his phone call in the hallway had called to action members of his team. As you sat there you pondered the last of your conversation, why in the world would he think you didn’t want anything more than friendship? Why would he have said what he did to the person on the phone if he wanted more? Laying down on the couch you closed your eyes not expecting to fall asleep, so when you awoke a while later to the sound of voices in the hall you were surprised. Just as you moved to sit up, the door creaked open and Bucky’s voice came through.

“Y/N, its me Doll. I’m coming in.” He pushed the door the rest of the way open and you took him in.

You could tell he’d been in a fight but wasn’t injured. He had a look on his face that was intense and made you want to make him smile instead. “Is this where you tell me I should see the other guy?” You smiled at him.

Bucky’s lips curled just a bit and he came over and sat down beside you. “You won’t ever see the other guy.” He took your hand in his.

“You found him.” You said, no need to ask, you knew when Bucky left earlier he wouldn’t come back until he had.

“Yep. He was holed up in a warehouse down at the warfe. He was apparently into some shady business and his partners didn’t like the fact that he had brought attention to them and their operation. So, after they left me talk to him they had a serious discussion with him. You could tell by the words he was using that he did more than talk and that Mr. Anders’ business partners did more than talk, but you didn’t ask. You’d seen enough TV to know to not ask questions.

“Thank you Bucky.” You leaned over and gave him a hug with your good arm. Pulling back you looked at him. “Now I think we need to talk about why you think I don’t want to be anything more than friends.”

“About 3 months ago I had decided that I wanted to see if maybe you wanted to move past friendship, to go out on a real date see if we worked, but you started pulling back. I didn’t know why, assumed you had picked up on what I was thinking and it was your way of letting me know you weren’t interested. So, I didn’t pursue it. Having you in my life at all is a blessing and something I’d never risk ruining.” Bucky explained.

You were trying to remember three months ago and suddenly it occurred to you. That was around the same time as you heard him on the phone where he made the comment. “Bucky, I started pulling back because I also wanted to try and see if we could be more. But one evening I came over, you had left your door unlocked for me and I heard you on the phone with someone. I don’t know what they said but you told them that it wasn’t like that and they must have asked something else about me because you said “Doesn’t do anything for me”. So I realized you weren’t interested in me and I kept my interest to myself. I think I started pulling back some because I did have feelings, but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we do have.”

Bucky remembered exactly the conversation she had overheard. It was with Sam. They had been planning their next mission. A lead on Zemo that they had to follow. Sam had asked him in his typical Sam fashion if he was going to get him some goodbye sex before they left. To which Bucky had replied that your relationship wasn’t like that. Then Sam had gone on to say Bucky should just hookup with one of the many women who came on to him when they were out. To which Bucky had replied that those girls did nothing for him. He could see now where you would have thought he was talking about you. Pulling you closer he explained the conversation to you and what you had heard.

“Don’t ever think that I don’t want more. I do. When I saw you earlier, hurt, afraid and knowing that he was still out there, I wanted to kill him. He touched the wrong woman and then when I saw the picture of the note he had left on the board in your room I knew that I had to find him. It pissed me off. That he thought he wanted to do those things to you, then when I found out who he was contacted to and that he might just have the means to follow through with them, I was scared. I don’t get scared, so yeah. I love you. I know its probably too soon and you don’t have to say it back, but I didn’t want to waste anymore time and not tell you.” Bucky touched your face.

You smile at him. “I love you to Bucky. I have for a long time. I want more with you too. Thank you for protecting me and making sure that I’m safe.”

“I’’m going to kiss you now.” Bucky warned you.

“I’m going to kiss you back.” You replied and you did.

[kickingitwithkirk]

I’m Not Clean

Paring: Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 1948

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, verbal fighting, cursing, cheating, oral sex, p/v sex

A/N: for @jawritter​​​​ #jensmakemecrychallange

A/N II: Set between mid season six-starts after Death puts Sam’s soul back-ending before the last Trial in season eight. Told from Sam’s POV alternating between present and past memories/ events. Some altering of events to fit story line. Prompt in Bold.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~ 

I chant this mantra over and over to myself. 

I was drunk before leaving, roaring out of the garage in Baby, leaving the stench of burning rubber and exhaust in my wake.

We’ve had some hell raising fights over the years. This one tonight the vilest we have ever had, saying the most unforgiving things to each other because you broke our agreement.

What we said...our knowledge of each other’s weakest points to abuse, verbally cutting into each other in the deepest manner, inflicting as much carnage as possible. 

The only other person in the universe who knows how to hit me that hard is my brother. Man, how we’ve done that dance too, over and over yet somehow always finding our way back to each other.

My brother tried to intervene, to stop us from saying the things we can never take back or forgive. It felt as if he was taking your side, I went after him as well. 

I feel the need to punish myself for all the pain I have caused. I am always creating pain, torching those I love. 

I found her at the dive bar, a few days out from her heat.

She is my punishment.

We go to a nearby dump. I close the door and she's already on her knees, my jeans zippers down, pulling me out and starts licking up the underside of my cock, making gagging noises trying to deepthroat me. My head thunks against the door and all I can think is that she’s not you.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I remember like it was yesterday. We ended up at Bobby’s after cleaning out a vamp nest two states over. 

Grabbing our duffels we didn’t rock, paper, scissors over who got the spare bed, my brother just face plants on the couch, unconscious before I’m even at the foot of the staircase.

I wearily make my way upstairs not bothering to shower in spite of how bad I smell, too exhausted to care. I toed off my boots and socks, throwing my blood encrusted shirt and jeans in the corner, collapsing face down on the bed, landing on top of something under the covers.

Why am I staring at the ceiling?

My brother barrel's in, woken by the sound of my body hitting the floor, stopping in the doorway with his gun drawn looking for what attacked me...this confused look crossed his face as the scent of fear flooded the room.

I sit up gazing over the bed as you huddle in the corner looking scared to death. My brother puts his gun back in his waistband, hands up with his on display to show he’s no threat. 

I slowly got to my feet and came around the bed towards you. You shrink even further in the corner, pulling into yourself as tight as you can, hiding behind your arms and drawn up knees.

I stop and sit down trying to not appear threatening and speak softly to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, we’re friends of Bobby’s. He didn’t tell us you were here. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You're so still, all I can see is your beautiful eyes moving between us, the only movement you are able to do. 

My brother gives a small smile before going back downstairs to the couch, giving you space to calm down. I stay on the floor, my back propped against the bed talking. 

It’s a one sided conversation but that’s ok. 

Bobby’s back just after daybreak found us still in the same positions on the floor asleep. 

“Balls!” 

You spring from the corner and bury yourself in his arms. Seeing that Bobby has you I grab my stuff and head for a shower. My brothers just came out from taking his. I strip and climb in turning on the water. 

Fucker used all the hot water.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I don’t want to be touching her now, or her touching me, my self loathing rising like the bile in my throat but my body has a mind of its own tonight as my brain turns off given into my Alpha.

I grab her hair, yanking her off my dick with an audible pop, saliva and precome running down her chin, adding another stain to the discolored rug. I pull her up, tossing her onto the bed before dragging her back to the edge, the barely there skirt rides up out of the way as I lave my tongue up her uncovered thighs, swirling it through her dripping folds. Roughly inserting several fingers into her tight cunt I start sucking on her clit as she grabs my hair soaking my face with her slick as she cums.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

The smell of coffee calls to my still fuzzy brain as I staggered downstairs to the kitchen. My brother and Bobby are at the table talking. As I pour a cup you walk in from the porch. 

I turn towards you, finally able to scent you without the terror that clouded the room last night. 

Are you a classic beauty? No, but you beguile me. 

I’m enamored with your beautiful eyes, recalling the way they never left mine last night. You’re taller than I expected, curvaceous, not delicate like others I have been with.

As you hold my gaze I remember the verbal platitudes, reading the drivel, even watched some of the bathetic romance movies but they could never fully articulate this feeling. It de-queues through me, permeates my soul.

My brother relentlessly teases that I am having a chick-flick moment.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

She wobbly moves onto her hands and knees, I climb on the bed behind her and ram my engorged cock into her sodden cunt as far as she can take me mindlessly pounding. I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing enough to stop the incoherent noises escaping from her mouth that grate against me. 

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

We ended up staying at Bobby’s for a couple of weeks, it was quiet and I wasn’t in any hurry to leave you.

Bobby explained to us how you ended up here over a bottle of whiskey late one night.

Jo found you bruised and bleeding, huddled in the door jam out back of Harvelle's Roadhouse. You had been injured by your pack for defying them. Ellen of course took you in. 

The pack came looking for you, trailing your scent to the bar. Ellen’s shotgun and don’t fuck with me attitude convinced them you had left but she knew it wasn’t safe for you to stay, your pack would be watching. 

Smuggling you out of the bar proved harder than anyone thought. There were multiple hand offs among hunters traveling along the way, finally delivering you to Bobby Singer's home days later.

For the first time in your life, you were safe.

We took our time getting to know each other, I had to work harder than I ever have with anyone before to gain your trust.

After my brother and I caught a case, I would call you every day and matter the time, you answered. We would talk for hours, share what we had been doing that day, finding our mutual interests in a variety of subjects coming to light. 

My brother would yell for me to get off the damn phone, I was keeping him awake, even though I’m sitting outside the motel room.

Then things got out of control.

Castiel broke the wall and died. Leviathans were anyone and everywhere, finally imitating us.

We became America’s Most Wanted. Bobby sent us to a man named Frank who owned him a big favor and made us disappear. 

We found Bobby’s burned down house and almost got killed ourselves.

Then Bobby showed up at the hospital to break us out, informing me you were safe, hidden at a long forgotten hunters cabin.

We managed to stay in contact, I needed that, to know you were staying safe before being able to sleep at night.

The first fight happened in the hospital, blaming us for losing Bobby. 

Then Dick and Purgatory.

And a lost year.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I pulled out of her relieved my knot had finally deflated enough to release me. Collapsing onto my back I fling my arm over my eyes disgusted with myself as she’s curling into my side literally purring.

I’ve repeatedly used her...in this bed of sin I created...I’ve lost control...not the first time.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

It’s never quiet for long in our lives. Castiel mysteriously returns and Kevin Tran sort of deciphers the demon tablet, how through three trials we can close the Gates of Hell and seal away so much evil if we survive the First Trial- kill a Hell hound. 

While on another case we met our grandfather Henry Winchester of The Men of Letters and inherit the key to the Bunker. We have a home of sorts and I finally have a safe place for you, for us to be together. A few months after moving in, before the Second Trial-rescuing a innocent from Hell, and your heat, I made a decision that saddened both of us but with our lives was necessary and allowed me finally to make you mine forever.

Right before finding out about the Third Trial I found the test hidden in a drawer and my diminishing mind bounces between being petrified and elated. I sat there downing a bottle of whiskey from my brother's copious stash waiting for your return and upon seeing you all the alcohol in my degenerating body gave me permission to release my pent up fury and paranoia, ending in that cheap room with her.

~~I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean I’m Not Clean~~

I made my way back to the Bunker to find my brother sitting in the War Room waiting on me. He wrinkled his nose at the stench of her all over me but said nothing as I handed over the car keys pocketing them. His eyes shifted to a chair and I apprehensively sat down awaiting the bombardment he would unleash. He remains quiet as he turns the open laptop towards me. I blink a few times to focus on the screen, reading the online article from a national news agency about the contraceptive failure. I’m in disbelief when he slides your phone in front of me and plays the voicemail from your doctor.

I get up swaying from a nonexistent breeze slowly walking the halls till I’m standing outside our bedroom door. I can scent your sadness from outside the closed door causing me to freeze holding the knob, unable to summon up the courage to turn it when it disappears from my hand finding you instead. You move allowing me to enter, shutting the door as I sit on the edge of the bed before crossing over, moving to stand directly in front of me. I don’t know how you can do that with the smell of every wrong I’ve done clinging to my skin polluting us. 

I feel your hands cradling my face softly telling me Grown men don't cry as your fingers track the tears coursing uninhibitedly down my cheeks.

I completely collapse wrapping my arms around your waist resting my forehead against the special place where our pup is, undeserving of your love that’s purifying me in ways the trials never will.

tagging: SPN @donnaintx​​​​

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid​​​​

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

A royal affair...

For the amazing @someone-like-robsten​ and @marilynmonroefanfics 👸

Hope you’ll enjoy this story!

N.B: This is an AU!

Leaning against the window of her flats, Margaret smoked her cigarette while looking sadly at the November sky. 

The last two years have been difficult for her. 

Tired of putting up with her husband's infidelities and seeking comfort in the arms of other men, she had decided to file for divorce. 

This announcement caused a scandal in Great Britain, and the media did not hesitate to talk about the new antics of the Windsors' "rebel princess".

The Countess of Snowdon didn't care about the headlines. For years, her every move had been checked by the public. What did bother her was that her children, David and Sarah, were at the centre of this media storm. 

Her children were the most precious thing in the world to her, and Margaret feared that they would not handle the media attention well.

Thank God they were holding up, but for how long? Especially since they couldn't count on their father to support them through this ordeal.

Indeed, Anthony Armstrong-Jones preferred to spend time with his mistress than with his children. An attitude that Margaret's elder sister Elizabeth and her husband Philip disapproved. The Duke of Edinburgh did not hesitate to express his displeasure with the Earl of Snowdon.

A voice drew her out of her thoughts:

"Excuse me, Madam..."

She turned and saw her faithful butler, Howard, standing in the doorway.

"Yes, Howard? What is it?"

"I came to tell you that your children were home from school. But they're in a sullen mood. I'm afraid the media hype has affected them greatly, ma'am."

The Countess put out her cigarette, cursing the journalists.

"Damn paper-pushers! Can't they find another target?"

She rose from her seat and asked:

"Where are they?"

"Your children are in the garden, Madame. I think they needed some fresh air."

"Thank you, Howard."

Margaret walked towards the garden and found her children there, sitting on a bench, looking sad. She walked over to the two teenagers and asked them:

"How was your day at school?"

David replied:

"I couldn't wait for it to be over. Apart from the teachers, everyone was asking me about the divorce. I was sick of it!"

"Same with me, except they were asking me who started the extramarital affairs between you and Dad." sighed Sarah.

At hearing this, Margaret felt a twinge of sadness. She took them in her arms and whispered:

"I'm so sorry you're involved in this. How I wish I could keep you away from all this fuss!"

"You're doing your best, Mum. It's not your fault," her daughter reassured her.

Margaret nodded before declaring:

"If going to college gets suffocating right now, I can arrange for you to stay home from time to time."

"We'll see. As long as we don't have to see Dad, I'm fine with it. He doesn't care how we are anyway." muttered her son.

The mother and her children stayed there, enjoying the surrounding silence, away from the tumult that took over London at the same time.

Leaning against the window, Howard watched the scene with empathy: since he had been in Princess Margaret's service, he had created a bond of friendship between his employer and her children. So it pained him to see them so distraught at this painful time. The butler hoped that soon all this would subside. And who knows, maybe someone would come to fill the void in Margaret's life.

Howard never imagined for a moment that his thoughts would come true and in a spectacular way.

Three months later.

In one of the many rooms at Buckingham Palace, Margaret had tea with her sister, Queen Elizabeth II.

The two women discussed the turmoil surrounding the divorce. But also the well-being of the Countess of Snowdon's children.

"Margaret, I think you should double the security around your children. You never know: it might be reassuring."

"But then, I already have several bodyguards on duty. Besides, I'm not going to have David and Sarah followed all the time: they'll feel suffocated!"

The queen nodded. She knew that her sister wanted her children to enjoy a certain amount of freedom. But she would not take that risk, given that some people reacted violently to the revelations of the Snowdon couple's adultery.

"I understand that. What I'm saying is, take every precaution necessary."

Margaret remained silent but nodded. In the end, it was better not to risk an attack on her children. It might give Anthony arguments to tell journalists that she was a bad mother.

After some thought, she said:

"You're right. I'll think about recruitment."

"Wise decision. If you ever need help, don't hesitate."

"I won't forget in a hurry. Thanks, Lizzie!"

Elizabeth smiled ruefully at her younger sister. Decidedly, Margaret was not very lucky in love. Her sister's heart got broken several times: she had to give up on marrying Captain Peter Townsend, the great love of her life, and now her marriage to Anthony Armstrong-Jones failed. Even her few lovers could never fill the void she felt.

Until the media frenzy subsided, the Queen of England hoped that someone would be able to give Margaret unwavering support and love. 

The monarch could not have been more right.

Three days later.

Sitting in his office, Howard was leafing through the CVs of candidates for the position of personal bodyguard for Princess Margaret's children. So far, none of them caught his eye, and that annoyed the butler.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

The door opened, and a rather large man entered the room. Judging by his build and upright posture, Howard knew he was dealing with a former military man.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning," the man replied.

"Have a seat, please."

The newcomer sat down without further ado.

"Well, we can start this interview. Can you introduce yourself as briefly as possible?"

"I'm Captain Julius Magnussen, a former member of the 12th Armoured Infantry Brigade. I served in the army for 15 years. I got honourably discharged two years ago."

Howard nodded.

"Very well. Have you ever worked in the personal protection service?"

"I've escorted important people before during my career. It always went well, and my superiors can attest to that."

"Another question: do you have a problem working with children or teenagers?"

Julius gave an amused smile.

"I wouldn't be here if I did. I'm the father of a twelve-year-old girl myself. So I can handle it."

The butler understood that Captain Magnussen was not the type to let this happen. A quality quite appreciated.

"You have a point. Well, after reading your CV and following our little interview, I'm announcing that we hire your services!"

"Thanks, but I'll have my little condition."

"What's that condition?" asked Howard, praying that it wasn't anything extravagant.

"I guess I'll be staying at Kensington Palace."

"Yes?"

"In that case, I'd like my daughter to come and live with me."

The butler held back a sigh of relief.

"If that's your only request, I'm sure we'll work something out. I don't think Princess Margaret will object. Well, if you have no further requests, I'll give you a tour of the premises while explaining the rules."

For almost an hour, the two men toured the royal residence. 

"I think I've covered all the topics. Do you have any questions, Mr Magnussen?"

"No."

"Good. In that case, I'll give you your first assignment: in two hours, you're to pick up Princess Margaret's children from their respective colleges."

"Very well. But can I pick up my daughter?"

"No, not today. I will send a member of staff to pick her up, though."

Julius raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"That's the first time anyone's ever offered me anything like that. All right, here's my address."

Magnussen handed a piece of paper to Howard, who read it.

"Well, I'll pass the information on to Francis, one of the drivers. I can assure you that your daughter will be safe with him."

Julius nodded and walked over to the massive black car. He sat behind the wheel and started the engine. 

But before he drove off, Howard asked:

"You mentioned your daughter, but I don't remember you mentioning your wife. Are you divorced, Mr Magnussen?"

A sad smile came over the bodyguard's face. 

"Indeed, I don't mention my wife. But it's not because of the divorce. She died nine years ago."

The butler felt ashamed to have brought up such a sensitive subject.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't know you were a widower."

"You couldn't have known: I didn't tell you, and I didn't mention it on my CV. Besides, it's a subject I don't like to bring up."

"That's understandable."

Julius cut the conversation short.

"Well, there's more to it than that, but I have to pick up Her Highness's children."

"Yes, of course. Here's the address of the schools."

"Thanks, see you later."

And Julius set off in the direction of David and Sarah Armstrong-Jones' schools. On the way, he wondered what kind of person Princess Margaret was. After all, since he was her children's bodyguard, he would have to deal with her often. Let's hope she's not a bitch like MP Thompson's wife!

A few minutes later, he arrived at the wide gate of Collington College, where several dozen schoolchildren had gathered to chat or wait for their parents to pick them up.

Julius spotted David and Sarah chatting away, watching out of the corner of his eye for any paparazzi in the area. 

He parked the car at their level and got out before calling them.

"Sarah? David?"

The two teenagers turned to him in surprise.

"Yes?" replied David.

"I'm your bodyguard. Howard has instructed me to come and get you."

"I believe you: I identified the car," smiled Sarah.

"Very observant, young lady. Now, come on: it's time to go home."

As the two teenagers entered the car, a man in his forties rushed towards them, a camera in his hand.

"Lord David! Lady Sarah! Wait!"

"Oh no!" sighed the teenagers.

Julius barricaded himself between them and the stranger before asking:

"May I ask who you are and what you want with Lord David and Lady Sarah?"

"Graham Fester, I'm a reporter for the Daily Mail. I wanted to ask them some questions about their mother..."

Peering at the man, Julius said firmly:

"Her Royal Highness's children do not have to answer to the press."

"Look, man, you do your job, and I want to do mine. How about freedom of the press?"

Julius gave a contemptuous sneer.

"That's too easy an excuse, but coming from a moron like you, I'm not surprised. So, a little advice: get out!"

Graham was about to retort but stopped when he saw the icy look the man gave him. Understanding that there was no point in insisting, the journalist stammered an apology and walked away.

Satisfied, Julius sat behind the wheel and drove home. Along the way, David asked:

"How long have you been employed?"

"This is my first day. I had my job interview this morning, and I got hired later today."

"You must have made a big impression on Howard for him to hire you right away!" joked Sarah.

"I don't know about that, but in any case, he judged me to be the best qualified for the job!"

"Right, but you didn't tell us your name!" the young man pointed out.

Amused by this remark, the former soldier replied:

"In that case, I'll make you a deal: you have the right to call me Julius if you allow me to call you by your first names!"

David and Sarah looked at each other with amusement before answering:

"ALRIGHT!"

"Fine! Something tells me the three of us will get along just fine if your mother doesn't mind!"

"Oh, don't worry! Mum's not the type to be too conventional! As long as you do your job, she's fine with it!" reassured David.

Meanwhile, Jasmin Magnussen finished tidying up her belongings in the suite allocated to her and her father. 

For the girl, everything seemed like a dream. She did not expect a luxury car to be waiting for her, let alone a chauffeur in a suit to tell her that she was moving to Kensington Palace.

After that, everything went very quickly: a dozen servants arrived and had everything tidied up within an hour.

For the twelve-year-old, it was the beginning of a new life.

Once she had finished settling in, Jasmin started to visit the place. On her way, she greeted the staff.

She arrived in the sumptuous main lounge and sat down on the sofa. Jasmin could not take her eyes off the magnificent decor of the room.

At the same time, Margaret returned from an official visit to Liverpool and headed for the living room. What a surprise when she saw a little girl sitting on her favourite sofa!

Clearing her throat, she asked:

"What on earth are you doing here?"

Startled, Jasmin turned around and recognized Princess Margaret. She stood and curtsied a little awkwardly, stammering:

"Good morning, Your Majesty."

The child's candid reply amused Margaret, who replied:

"Only my sister is called Your Majesty. People call me Your Highness."

"Excuse me, Your Highness."

"Good. Now, can you tell me who you are and what you are doing here?"

At the same time, Howard came running into the room.

"Your Highness!"

"Here, Howard! May I know the reason for your Olympic sprint?"

Turning his head towards Jasmin before turning his attention back to his employer, Howard explained.

"Madam, I wished to introduce you to young Jasmin Magnussen, the daughter of the new bodyguard."

"Oh yes? And where is this famous bodyguard?"

"I sent him to pick up your children, Madam."

Suddenly the front door opened and Margaret saw her children coming, followed by a man.

"Hi, Mom. We're home!"

"I see that."

The princess turned her attention to the man and asked:

"And I see you've met your new bodyguard. Nice to meet you, sir..."

"Julius Magnussen, Your Highness. It is an honour to meet you," the man replied politely.

Looking at him more closely, Margaret thought to herself that he was rather handsome. Mr Magnussen exuded an aura of power and charisma that did not leave her indifferent.

As for Julius, he noticed that Princess Margaret was an attractive woman, with a cheeky charm that contrasted with the sober elegance of her sister, Queen Elizabeth.

Margaret spoke again:

"I see that you have begun your work among us. I hope that everything will go well."

"I'm sure it will, ma'am."

He glanced at his daughter with amusement.

"And I see that you are acquainted with Jasmin."

"Indeed I am. I see that you have a charming daughter."

As the princess and the bodyguard continued to chat, David and Sarah began to get acquainted. All this under the amused eye of Howard, who thought that he had done well to hire Mr Magnussen.

A few months later.

Julius and his daughter Jasmin had been living at Kensington Palace for several months. While Julius continued to work as a bodyguard for Princess Margaret's children, Jasmin continued her studies at the same college as Sarah. All thanks to her father's employer, who thought it would be more convenient for everyone.

Speaking of Margaret, she continued to honour her official commitments without worrying about David and Sarah because she knew they were safe. 

They seemed to be smiling again and spending time with Jasmin and Julius. Their bodyguard was not like the others.

Firstly, he called them by their first names, and secondly, he quickly became a sort of mentor. 

Whenever they had a question or a problem, David and Sarah knew that Julius would be there to listen and guide them. Something that their father, Anthony Armstrong-Jones, would have to do if he wasn't spending most of his time in the arms of his mistress around the world.

As she read her newspaper in her room, Margaret heard laughter coming from the garden. She interrupted her reading and leaned out the window to see that her children played basketball with Jasmine and Julius.

Amused by the scene, she went down to the garden to get a closer look.

David, Sarah, and Jasmine were trying to steal the ball from Julius, who seemed to be having a great time playing with them.

"Daddy, give us the ball back!" laughed Jasmine.

"Come and get it, if you dare!"

David had an idea.

"Okay, girls: change of tactics! I can only think of one way to get the damn ball!"

"And how do we do that?" asked Sarah, exhausted.

Without warning, David threw himself at Julius and shouted:

"TICKLE ATTACK!"

Immediately the girls followed him, and Julius found himself on the ground, attacked from all sides by tickling hands.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he begged, laughing.

Margaret couldn't help but giggle at the sight. What a funny scene!

Julius caught sight of the Countess of Snowdon and thought that the fun was over!

"Come on, children: the game is over! You've earned the right to take a shower!"

"What a first prize!" giggled Sarah, making David and Jasmin laugh.

"Come on, girl: obey Mr Magnussen! The same to you, young people!" replied Margaret with a mischievous smile.

The three teenagers walked off in the direction of the house, leaving Margaret and Julius alone.

"I see you've had a good time!" remarked the princess.

The bodyguard smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"Let's just say I wanted to show them another sport... and they enjoyed it a lot!"

Margaret smiled.

"I think they like it when you teach them to play basketball. How relieving it is for David and Sarah to be able to talk to you in confidence..."

"Just doing my job, ma'am..."

"Margaret."

"Excuse me?"

She moved closer to him and answered:

"I permit you to call me by my first name. And if you ask me, I think you're doing more than your job. You have a different approach to your mission, and it's quite pleasant, Mr Magnussen."

"Julius."

"I beg your pardon?"

The former military man replied with a smile.

"I give you permission to call me by my first name."

At these words, Margaret burst out laughing.

"You've got some nerve, and I appreciate it!"

At the same time, Howard arrived and announced:

"Madam, I've come to inform you that the meal will be ready in an hour or so."

"Excellent! Thank you very much, Howard!"

She turned to Julius and replied:

"I'll go and change. See you later!"

"See you later." the bodyguard replied as Margaret walked away.

As he walked towards the residence, he couldn't help but notice Howard's amused smile.

"Problem?"

"Not at all. I'm just noting that The Countess leaves no one indifferent. And you, especially!"

"What are you getting at?"

The butler replied with a hint of malice in his voice:

"I am sure you like her very much!"

"What? Sorry, but I think you're mistaken: I'm not the kind of man who sleeps with his boss!"

"I don't think you're the type to think about sex, certainly. But I also think you like Princess Margaret a lot..."

He added.

"And if it will reassure you, I think she likes you very much!"

Julius couldn't believe it: here was Howard, the epitome of wisdom and rigour, encouraging him to have an affair with Princess Margaret!

But deep down, he had to admit that he no longer saw the Countess as his employer but as a sort of friend. And there was only one step between this budding friendship and a forbidden romance.

Two weeks later.

As he walked through the corridors of Kensington Palace, Julius heard shouts from Margaret's office. 

Intrigued, he walked over to the door of the office, which was ajar.

He saw the Countess of Snowdon shouting at someone on the telephone. And that someone was none other than her ex-husband.

"YOU BASTARD! HOW CAN YOU DO SUCH A THING TO YOUR DAUGHTER? YOU PROMISED TO BE THERE FOR HER HORSE SHOW!"

The bodyguard pursed his lips. True, he had never met the Earl of Snowdon, but from what the staff told him, the latter was a womanizer and an insatiable party animal. Moreover, since the announcement of the divorce proceedings, he had been neglecting his children. This situation revolted Julius: how could he not see how lucky he was to have such lovely children? 

He imagined Sarah disappointed that her father was not watching her at her horse show. Unlike her older brother, she still hoped her father would make up for his mistakes. But the more time passed, the less she believed in it.

Margaret's angry voice drew him out of his reverie:

"Perfect! Since you feel that way, I advise you not to come to Kensington Palace before Christmas next year! Stay with your bitch if you feel like it!"

She hung up the phone violently before dropping into her chair, exhausted.

That was when Julius knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

He entered the room.

"Margaret, is everything all right?"

Margaret interrupted him.

"I'm not a fool, you know. I know you heard me shouting!"

"I admit it. And may I speak up about it?"

"At this point..."

Julius sat down beside her and said:

"With all due respect, Margaret, your former husband is a selfish man! Having a bad relationship with him is fine, but I don't understand how anyone can tolerate him being unavailable to his children. But what's worse, he makes you look like the bad mother!"

Margaret sighed sadly.

"I'm tired of all this fuss. I wish people would leave me alone!"

She murmured:

"And to think I'm bothering you with my moods. Don't pay any attention to that, Julius!"

Without thinking, the bodyguard put his hand on the princess's shoulder.

"Whatever it is, know that I'll always be there to support you."

This admission had a strange effect on the Countess of Snowdon, who looked up at her bodyguard. Apart from her sister, her family, and dear Howard, no one had given her support.

Besides, she appreciated the presence of Captain Magnussen at her side. Ever since he had joined her service, Margaret could not do without him. Was it because he was playing the role of a father to David and Sarah? Or was it because he embodied an ideal of a man she never thought she would see again since Peter Townsend? Or perhaps because she simply liked him?

Whichever of these reasons was valid, she leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his lips.

This impromptu gesture surprised Julius, who remained unmoved. It looks like Howard was right!

A little embarrassed, Margaret stammered:

"I don't know what came over me: I'm sorry. Maybe we should pretend it never happened..."

She was interrupted by Julius' lips pressing against hers. He didn't mind, quite the opposite. 

Once their kiss was over, they remained face to face. 

The bodyguard murmured:

"Don't apologize for being what you are. That's how I like you best."

Amused by this answer, the princess replied:

"Keep being so direct with me. That's how I like you best!"

"At least we agree!"

They remained silent for a long moment, enjoying each other's presence when Julius remarked:

"We'll have to be discreet. I wouldn't want this to backfire on you or your kids to take it the wrong way!"

"You're probably right. But don't worry: all the staff have signed a confidentiality clause! No one is going to report us to the press!"

She nestled into his muscular arms, happy to have found a new ally in this turmoil.

As for Julius, he was both happy to have this unusual woman in his arms. But he was also worried. How would Jasmin react if she learned of his romance with Margaret? What would Queen Elizabeth and her family say if they found out? Would David and Sarah resent him for having formed a relationship with their mother?

Whatever the case, this story had to be kept secret for as long as it took. But for how long?

Three months later.

Lying in a large bed, covered only by the sheets, Margaret and Julius were embracing, enjoying the warmth of each other's skin. 

The quietness of the room soothed them and made this intimate moment even more enjoyable.

For the British princess, every moment spent in the strong arms of her bodyguard took her to other realms of pleasure. And Julius was an ideal lover, both vigorous and gentle.

Snuggled up against her lover, the Countess of Snowdon murmured:

"And to think I wasted my time on Anthony!"

"Don't worry about him! If he enjoys his freedom as a divorced man, do the same with your life as a free woman!"

Margaret smiled:

"What I like about you, my dear Julius is that you never lose the opportunity to give me any of your valuable advice!"

"Oh, but you like my precious advice! Look: since you've been following it, you've cut down on your drinking, and you've slowed down your nightlife! Moreover, your behaviour in public got often cited as an example! For a rebel like you, I think you are following my advice to the letter!"

With a seductive pout, the Countess of Snowdon replied:

"I am only wise in public, but once the door is closed... I become a naughty girl. And I know you like that!"

"I've always had a weakness for beautiful rebels!"

They kissed again when Margaret glanced at the clock. Seeing the time, she leapt out of bed exclaiming:

"OH MY GOD! I'M LATE!"

"Late? But why?" the bodyguard stammered, baffled.

While getting dressed, his lover explained:

"I have just remembered that I promised Lady Anne Tennant that I would go to her house for tea at four o'clock. I already hate latecomers, and I'm not going to start doing that!"

"That makes sense. I'm leaving in an hour to pick up the kids anyway!"

Once dressed and made up, Margaret blew a kiss to her lover:

"See you tonight. Be a good boy!"

"I always do!"

Amused by this reply, the princess left and set off to join her friend.

Julius, for his part, dressed and left his lover's room. As soon as he closed the door, he turned around and found himself face to face with Howard.

The latter remarked with an amused smile:

"I see you have taken up your quarters in Princess Margaret's room."

"It's not what you think!"

The butler shook his head:

"I am not blind, my dear. I am aware of your romance with Her Highness. But if it makes you feel better, I don't mind."

It reassured Julius, who asked:

"And why do you approve of this?"

"Let us say that your presence is beneficial to Princess Margaret and her children. Besides, you're just her type."

"Well, at least you're on my side, which is no small thing!"

"That's true, but I'd rather warn you. If you ever break my employer's heart, I guarantee I'll do everything I can to ruin your life. Do I make myself clear?"

Amused by this threat, the former military man slapped the butler on the back in a friendly manner.

"It's as clear as day, mate!"

"No, it isn't! I don't allow you to be so familiar with me! I appreciate your company, of course, but there are limits!" offended Howard.

Julius rolled his eyes:

"Oh, please, don't be such a prude. I've seen you much less uptight with the cute little maid. What's her name again? Oh, yes! Sally Frogmore!"

At these words, the butler felt the red flush rise to his cheeks.

"I don't know what you mean!"

The bodyguard sneered:

"I'm not blind, my dear: I saw you in the laundry room the other night! A real movie kiss! But I think Sally's brother works here as a bodyguard. And since he's quite protective of her, I doubt he'll appreciate learning that you're having an affair!"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" grumbled Howard.

He replied:

"You can be appalling when you want to be!"

"But I learned from the best! But since I like you, I promise I won't say anything to Sally's brother! Does that suit you?"

Sighing, the butler replied:

"That's fine with me... mate!"

"Ah, but we're making progress!" laughed Julius, making Howard laugh in turn.

After this hilarity, the butler cautioned the bodyguard:

"However, be careful! You never know: some people might want to harm you or Princess Margaret!"

"Don't worry, Howie: I'm not about to let my guard down!"

"Don't ever call me that again!"

"Why not? It suits you!"

"Don't push it!"

As they teased each other, the two men had no idea that the secret would be revealed in the heart of another palace: Buckingham Palace!

One week later.

Tonight, Queen Elizabeth was hosting her family for an informal dinner. The sovereign wanted to have her family around her for a convivial moment. Of course, Margaret and her children went to this dinner. And they were going to be accompanied by Julius and Jasmin.

Of course, Julius had to be there due to his job. The presence of the young girl can get explained by Sarah's desire to invite her friend. Of course, Margaret prepared a pretty dress for her and helped Jasmin to get ready. She treated the young girl as her daughter.

And of course, Howard was also there, as the Countess of Snowdon could not do without her faithful butler.

When they arrived at Buckingham Palace, Elizabeth, her husband Philip, their four children, Lady Diana Spencer, Charles's girlfriend, and the Queen Mother greeted them. 

They were all surprised by Jasmin's presence.

"Margaret, who is this young lady with you?

"My dear sister, this is Jasmin Magnussen. She is the daughter of my bodyguard, Julius Magnussen - do you remember him? Well, Sarah wanted Jasmin to share this moment with us!"

Elizabeth smiled kindly at Jasmin, who curtsied to her.

"Good evening, Your Majesty!"

"Good evening, young Miss Magnussen! I hope you will spend a pleasant evening in our company!"

"I am sure I will, Your Majesty!"

At the same time, one of the servants announced that everyone could go to the table. On the way, Margaret gave Julius a teasing glance. Of course, he tried not to smile at this seductive gesture. A teasing that Princess Anne noticed. The Royal Princess suspected that something was going on between her aunt and the former soldier, and she would like to know what.

An hour later.

As the servants brought in the various dishes, the Windsors chatted merrily, Margaret regaling the guests with her witticisms. 

Her cheerfulness delighted her mother, who said:

"It pleases me to see you so cheerful. I wonder what it is that has put you in such a good mood!"

"Let's just say that concentrating on the essentials has given me back my zest for life!"

"You don't say!" murmured Anne, sipping her glass of wine.

The evening continued when Margaret pretended to need to go to the bathroom and left the room. Once alone in the corridors, she headed not for the toilet but for a small sitting room which she entered.

Luckily Julius was there, enjoying the quiet of the room. She approached him and whispered:

"So, was it boring without me?"

Julius turned and exclaimed:

"What on earth are you doing here?"

For all answer, the Countess passed her hands under her lover's shirt and whispered in a teasing tone:

"I wanted to see you. I can't get enough of you!"

While trying to keep his composure, the bodyguard stammered:

"But if anyone saw us..."

"Oh, come on: what would life be without a little risk?"

This argument convinced Julius, who kissed Margaret passionately. Their hands caressed their excited bodies without interrupting their hungry lips.

Suddenly, a scream of astonishment tore them from their embrace. The pair turned around and saw the Queen Mother staring at them in horror.

The old lady stammered:

"I can't believe it!"

And she fainted, attracting the attention of the rest of the royal family who came running.

"Mother, what on earth is going on?" asked Elizabeth before turning to the drawing-room.

"OH MY GOD!"

"Oh, Good Lord, no!" grumbled Howard as he facepalmed.

"Well, this is a funny scene!" smiled Philip, amused.

"I knew there was something up! You did very well, Aunt Margaret!" smiled Anne.

"I can't believe it!" stammered Charles.

"Nice choice, Auntie!" laughed Andrew, giving both thumbs up.

"I admit it was rather unexpected!" muttered Edward.

"What a surprise!" remarked Diana.

But the ones who were amazed were David, Sarah, and Jasmin. They had never imagined for a moment that this could have happened.

Gradually emerging from her stupor, Sarah asked:

"Since when?"

"Three months and a fortnight ago," her mother whispered.

"And you were going to tell us when?" asked David.

"Yes, we were planning to tell you the truth. But we wanted to wait a while."

Julius met his daughter's shocked gaze and felt guilty. He should have been honest with her from the start, but how could he explain it to her? Perhaps she would see it as a betrayal of her mother?

As Charles and Edward tried to revive their grandmother, Elizabeth said:

"I'm beginning to understand why you've seemed more cheerful in recent days. How did you manage to keep this from us?"

"I have no idea. Let's say that, unlike the other lovers I've had, Julius is the only one who respects me and loves me as I am!"

"How could you throw yourself into the arms of your bodyguard?" cried the Queen Mother.

"And now she's back from the dead!" muttered Philip.

The Queen Mother sat up and lectured her daughter:

"I can't believe you took a lover..."

"MOTHER, FOR GOD'S SAKE, STOP!"

This outburst of anger imposed silence on the room.

Margaret continued her tirade:

"I've had enough of your perpetual blaming of my love life. Not only did you stop me from marrying the man I loved, but you didn't support me when my marriage started to fall apart. You even dared to say that I wasn't making any effort! For all I know, I'm not the one neglecting Sarah or David, but your ex-son-in-law is! And now that I've found a man who genuinely loves me, you want me to give it up again? When are you going to understand that thwarted love leads to disaster? You still haven't learned your lesson!"

Her mother wanted to reply but remained silent, like the rest of the family.

Only Diana spoke up:

"Having seen my parents hate each other, I agree with Margaret. No one should get forced to choose who they love, not even members of the royal family."

She turned to Julius.

"I don't know you well enough, Mr Magnussen, but if you love Margaret as she loves you, know that I support you!"

"So do I!" added Anne.

"I have heard of Captain Magnussen's service record. All your former superiors speak very highly of you. If my sister-in-law is to have a lover, it might as well be a man as serious as you!" added Prince Philip.

The other members of the family expressed their approval. 

Even Queen Elizabeth did not mind:

"I have to admit that I find this all very surprising. But to tell the truth, it's been so long since my sister has been so happy. So I think we can accept your presence here..."

"It's all good for me, Mum," replied David, to which his sister agreed.

"So have I! Although I wish I'd known about it, Mum!" 

"All in good time, young lady!" smiled Diana mischievously.

Jasmin spoke up in turn:

"I accept your relationship... but it's going to take me some time to get used to it. Not everyone has Princess Margaret as a stepmother!"

Julius and Margaret were relieved: at least the majority of the family seemed to accept their relationship, much to Howard’s discreet relief. Even if the Queen Mother needed convincing.

"I hope you intend to have a serious relationship with this gentleman, Margaret!"

"Oh yes, I do, Mother! I'm ready to settle down. Well, as much as possible!"

You can't change a rebellious princess unless Captain Magnussen has achieved that feat. And that begins their happiness for many years to come...

Thanks for reading this story!

I hope you enjoyed it!

Take care! 😘🥰😍

[twoidiotwriters1]

Iron 12 (Peter Parker x Fem!Oc)

A/N: Now let's start with Avengers! Getting closer to seeing Peter, lol.

I know, I know...

Words: 1,593

Masterlist:

Post-credits scene II  / Chapter 13

“Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you,” says Tony from the other end of the call.

"You diconnected the transmission lines?" Pepper asks. "Are we off the grid?"

"Stark Tower is about to become a beacon of self-sustaining clean energy.”

"Well, assuming the arc reactor takes over and it actually works,” She continues

"I assume,” answers Tony. "Light her up.”

The huge sign forms a Stark when the lights come on.

"How does it look?"

"Like Christmas, but more... me.”

“Us!" says Lily after listening to the boring conversation between the two adults.

“We’ve got to go wider on the public awareness campaign. You need to do some press. I'm in DC tomorrow, I'm working on the zoning for the next three buildings,” says Pepper.

"That sounds so boring,” Lily complains walking to the couch, leaving her legs swinging on the armrest.

“I agree with the girl. Pepper, you're killing me. The moment, remember? Enjoy the moment.”

"Get in here and I will,” replies the redhead with a smile.

“Ew," adds Lily.

Since Tony and Pepper are finally together, they can't help but be more affectionate than normal, unfortunately the girl always has to interrupt them. She already has enough trauma.

When Tony reaches the tower, he walks on a platform where several robotic hands are responsible for removing the Iron Man suit.

The redhead continues to see the levels projected in the holograms. She leans back on the desk, waiting for Tony.

"Levels are holding steady… I think.”

Tony comes to her side, they talk, and then discuss the percentage of the great success of the reactor. All while Lily continues to get bored on the couch. The adults sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by the armchairs, along with two glasses of champagne.

Blah, blah, blah, elevator, blah, blah, blah, money, blah, blah, percentage.

Lily sighs exaggeratedly to get their attention. They both stop talking and Tony watches her.

"Oh sorry, are we bothering you?"

Pepper purses her lips to keep from laughing.

"Actually yes,” the girl sits up. “I'm supposed to be able to do more things, go out more often.”

"And you did it.”

"From the house to the tower does not count, Dad,” She answers. "It's the same as before, only in another prison…”

"Don't exaggerate,” answers Tony. She sighs and falls back onto the cushions. “I don't understand why you’re bored. We’ve just made a breakthrough for the company.”

“One, your company. Two, I did nothing, just watched percentages, values, holograms. Bored!"

"I thought you liked that," adds Pepper.

"I want to do something else.”

"Like what, Smarty?"

"What about an Iron Man suit for me?" She says turning her head towards them.

Tony laughs out loud.

"It wont happen.”

"I had to try it…”

"Sir, the telephone," Jarvis interrupts. "I'm afraid my protocols are being overridden.”

"Mr. Stark, we need to talk,” says a male voice. Tony takes the phone from him.

"That sounds interesting," says Lily.

“You have reached the life model decoy of Tony Stark. Please leave a message,” He pretends to be an answering machine looking at the screen, making Lily and Pepper laugh.

"This is urgent.”

"Then leave it urgently.”

But the elevator doors open, revealing Agent Coulson.

"This just keeps getting better,” says Lily. It had been a long time since they had seen Phil.

"Don't get excited kid. Security breach,” Tony complains.

"Phil, come in!" says Pepper getting up.

Tony looks confused at his girlfriend and follows her to where the agent is.

"I can't stay," answers Phil. He looks towards the couch where Lily greets him. "Hi, Lily.”

"His first name is Agent,” says Tony a little annoyed, but then he fakes a smile.

"We need you to look this over as soon as possible,” says Phil offering him a device.

Pepper is in charge of exchanging the device for his champagne glass, until it reaches Tony's hand.

"Official consulting hours are between eight and five, every other Thursday—”

"This isn’t a consultation," replies Phil.

"Now what did we do?" Lily asks, rising from the couch.

"Is this about the Avengers?" Pepper asks, then adds quickly. "Which I know nothing about.”

Tony opens the device in such a way that he reveals only a touch screen, he gestures to Lily and they both walk to a desk in the back.

"The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought — And I did not qualify," He huffs.

"I did!”

Tony looks at her.

"Who told you that?"

“Nat," She smiles.

"I didn't know that either," continues Pepper.

"Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others…”

“Bingo," says Lily.

"That I did know.”

"This isn’t about personality profile anymore,” replies Phil.

“Whatever," says Toy looking at the screen.

"What are we watching?" Lily asks, as her father obstructs her vision.

"Wait, Ms Potts, got a second?" The redhead obeys.

Tony enters some codes.

"You know, I thought we were having a family moment," He complains.

"I was having 12% of a moment.”

"Oh, not this again,” says Lily

The pair try to argue again, but Pepper changes the subject.

"What is all this?”

“This is… this.”

Lily walks to see each screen, where the profiles of some people are shown. Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Thor.

Pepper sighs. "I'm going to take the jet to DC tonight,” She says.

“Tomorrow," corrects Tony. They both talk, but Lily's attention is still in the files.

"Lily?" says the redhead and the girl turns. "I have to go."

Lily walks up to her and hugs her tightly.

"Be careful,” the little girl whispers when they part. Pepper nods, strokes her black hair and kisses her forehead. She then goes back to Phil.

"Wait, so who am I staying with?" asks the girl looking at her father. The three adults share a look. "Jess is in class, Happy’s busy and you’ll go,” She points to Pepper.

“Actually…” Coulson begins.

"I'll find a babysitter," Tony interrupts.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir. For this we need both Starks.”

"What?" say Tony, Pepper and Lily at the same time.

"They need me? Me?" Lily asks in disbelief. She feels a tickling start in her hands, but this time she controls it and hides her hands behind her back.

"No, Phil, it's dangerous for a ten-year-old girl," says the Redhead.

"I thought she was on probation," adds Tony.

“Our base will be surrounded by qualified and knowledgeable agents to ensure Ms. Stark's protection. Besides, it’s only a search, in case the situation changes, she’ll be taken to Miss Potts immediately.”

Lily's gaze moves between the agent and her father repeatedly, waiting for an answer.

“What do you need her for? Specifically,” says Tony.

"Director Fury thinks two Starks are better than one,” He tries to joke. "His words, not mine, but everything’s explained in the files.”

"Is this really happening?" Lily asks to no one in particular. “Someone finally heard my complaints!”

“Hey, calm your sugar. I won't let you go alone like this,” Tony warns.

"So, can I go?”

Tony groans. He senses Pepper's confused look, but he ignores it. Even he doesn't know if this is a good idea, but the fact that the super agents need his daughter makes him curious, and he has a feeling that if he doesn't accept, they’ll try to get it some other way and that's worse.

The redhead sighs in defeat, waiting for Tony to have everything under control. Although that’s not common in him. She now must worry about both of them, but at least has the assurance that Phil will be around. She just hopes she doesn't regret it later.

"Please, stay safe,” She finally says to them, then he returns to Phil and the two leave the Stark tower.

Lily watches them until she's alone with her father. She turns to meet the man holding a hologram of a blue cube.

"What's that?"

"We'll find out soon,” He returns the hologram to the screen and looks down at her. "I'll prepare coffee and chocolate, you and I will find ourselves reading and talking about the new rules of the game."

"New Rules? I'm not six years old anymore, dad.”

He sighs and makes a face.

"These rules are not in case you break something, Lily,” He looks directly into her eyes. “You heard Coulson. We’ll be surrounded by agents, spies trained to do whatever they are ordered to do. And at some point that order can harm us.”

"But Mr. Fury-"

“I know we have given them permission for certain things like your training, but it was all happening under my watch and Jarvis's. This time we’ll have to go to them, and that’s a problem.”

She frowns, analyzing that information.

“But Nat and Phil… They wouldn't do something like that.”

"I don't know, Kid. We can’t take anything for granted.”

"It's not easy and anyone can fool you, Lils." She remembers Nat's words during her training. In the end she nods towards her father.

"So what do I have to do?"

“Pretend that everything’s fine, but you have to stay alert and try not to get too far away from me. I don’t know the real reason why they want you in this, but you should not believe everything they tell you.”

"This will be more complicated than I thought," She adds with a grimace.

"Don't worry,” He offers his hand. "You and I are smarter than they are.” Lily holds his hand.

Taglist:

@silenthappyplace @yourbonesareinmybody @aylauwuuniverse    @skittles-skittles @hufflepuffzutara @poetryislife0715 @21bruhs @heavenlymistakes @my-love-of-books @dielgonacoffee  @thelastpyle​

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

More Hearts Than Mine - Part II

I do not own anything that is familiar to you - songs, characters, etc. This is the next part of the story - you’ll get to meet Jack and the person he’s bringing home with him. Enjoy!

Catch up with Part I Here!

PART II

September 20, 2019

“So I have a question for you.” Jack asked, sliding into a chair across from his girlfriend with a grin.

Kat leaned forward, placing a kiss on his lips. “That depends?”

“On what?” Jack raised his eyebrows, giving her a look.

Kat laughed, picking up her pen, quickly jotting down something on the notebook in front of her. “On where you want to bury the body?”

Jack threw his head back and laughed, loudly, catching the attention of several tables surrounding them. “There won’t be a body to bury. I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come home with me to meet my momma and my siblings.”

Kat paused in her actions, slowly looking up from the notebook to see her boyfriend grinning at her. “You want me to come home with you to meet the family?”

“I’d love for you but if it’s too soon, I completely understand.” Jack paused. “I am planning on making a trip back in a few weeks and would love for you to come back with me.”

Kat bit her lip, looking at him. “You have six siblings, right? What makes you think they’re not going to tear me apart? You did mention that you’ve never brought anyone home.”

“They will love you, just as I love you.” Jack said, grinning.

Raising an eyebrow, Kat shook her head. “You’re laying it on thick, Kelly. I don’t know . . .”

“Come on, what do you have to lose?” Jack said, lacing his fingers with his, giving them a squeeze.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair. “When do we leave?”

October 4, 2019

Relaxing against the seat, she watched the scenery pass by as a Gavin DeGraw song came on the random playlist Jack had put on. “So you said that you had something you wanted to tell me on the way.”

Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, Jack reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “You’re the first person I’ve brought home, but I told you that already. Medda adopted me when I was 14 years old. Racer and I were adopted together, we’re brothers by birth. Medda added Albert and Charlie a year later with Smalls two years after that. My siblings can be rough, hellions even, especially when new people are brought around. Just . . . don’t hold anything against them.”

“Did you tell them you were bringing me?” She asked, biting her lip.

It was Jack’s turn to bite his lip. “Not exactly.”

He yelped as her hand hit his shoulder. “Jack! You’re not making it any easier. Don’t you think telling them you’re bringing me home might help the situation a bit?”

“I was just too excited that you actually said yes that I didn’t exactly think things through . . .” Jack admitted with a grin. “They’re going to love you when they meet you.”

She was hesitant, giving Jack’s hand a squeeze. “If you say so.”

“There’s one more thing you should be aware of.” Jack started, squeezing her hand back. “Momma is special. She tends to adopt anyone that walks through the door. Just know that if something happens with us, which I’m not advocating for by the way, she would be even more devastated and feel like one of her children ran away from home.”

She raised an eyebrow, shifting in her seat. “So are you telling me that we can’t break up because it will break your momma’s heart?”

“Uh huh . . . there’s one thing you never wanna do and that’s make Medda angry at you.” Jack shrugged.

“I take it you’re talking from experience?” She quipped, as a grin stretched across her face.

His silence was all the answer she needed from him. “What did you do to piss your momma off?”

“There’s too many times to count.” Jack grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “I was the problem child, it’s a wonder she continued to adopt after me and Racer.”

She raised an eyebrow, grinning. “That explains so much . . . what kind of problem child? I mean, should I be worried?”

“I may have been caught stealing once and ran with a rough crowd.” Jack shrugged. “It was a rough two years when I was teenager but Medda was firm and loving and managed to turn myself around. Though, there were many times I thought she would kick me to the curb but she never did.”

“So tell me about your siblings.” She shifted in her seat, eyes bright with excitement, despite her nerves at meeting his family.

A smile crossed Jack’s face as he reflected on his mismatched family. “What do you want to know about the hellions?”

“Should I be afraid that you call them hellions? Just whatever you want to share.” She shrugged, knowing they still had a bit of time ahead of them.

The song changed on the playlist she had picked when they first got in the car. Jack grinned listening to “The Last Song” by All American Rejects.

“Nah, we’re all a mismatch group - we’re all misfits that create a pretty amazing family. Anthony is 17 and my half brother. We call him Race or Racer but he’s the sweetest kid, even though he can be a pain in the ass at any moment. Kid’s got a mouth on him that Momma and I have been trying to curtail but it’s not taking much. He’s dating Sean, better known as Spot. They’ve been together for the last two years but have been friends for as long as I can remember. Charlie and Albert were the next two that Medda adopted - Charlie is a sweetheart with an evil streak. He’s our practical joker so be on the lookout, though Momma probably gave them the ‘don’t do anything stupid’ talk already. And Albert, he’s super smart but doesn’t really apply himself, rather just cruise through school. Albert is a wicked good soccer player and it’s pretty cool to watch him out on the field. His boyfriend, Finch is the goalie and the two of them are pretty incredible - they’re already talking scholarships for college.” Jack paused, shaking his head at the older of his younger siblings.

“They all sound pretty remarkable.” She murmured.

Nodding, Jack grinned. “They all are. Now for the younger three. Smalls is our only girl in the family but don’t let that fool you. She’s tough as nails, despite being a natural girly girl. She plays lacrosse and is damn good at it. She’s ruthless at it and it’s pretty cool watching her fight on the field. She’s a sweetheart and mostly always gets her way due to being the only girl. Romeo is our flirt but he’s harmless. He’s charismatic and energetic and really good at school, despite him being bored most of the time. He’s in a gift program at school and he’s a wicked good artist - he puts me to shame sometimes. And then there’s Henry, our newest brother. He’s four and has the biggest heart - he’s a cuddler, so beware. All of us are huggers, it’s just when you’ve been denied it for so long, you naturally drift to that - Henry never had that trepidation and just loves whoever he comes into contact with - there’s no malice or resentment yet.”

Reaching over, she grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze with a sad smile. “Thanks for telling me. I’m excited to meet them all. Do you have any pets?”

“Albert has Fluffy, Race has Iggy the iguana, and from what I’ve heard, Smalls has been trying to convince momma to get a dog. The house is already a three ring circle yet momma is considering adding a dog to the mix.” Jack shook his head chuckling at his family.

She raised an eyebrow. “So you mentioned that a couple of your siblings were pranksters - anything I should be cautious of?”

“Momma probably had the talk about treating you like she treated all of them when she adopted us so they should be on their best behavior.” Jack grinned. “You’re tough and you grew up with brothers so I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

“I just want this weekend to go well and for them to like me.” She whispered, giving him a look.

Squeezing her hand, Jack smiled. “A little advice for this crew?”

“What’s that?” Katherine asked, raising an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Don’t let the little things bother you; laugh, a lot, and just talk with my siblings - that’ll go a long way in their book.” Jack smiled, pulling into the driveway of a gorgeous house.

A gasp escaped Katherine’s mouth. “This is your house?”

“Yeah . . . momma was married and divorced ten year ago and from the divorce bought this house and filled it with kids that her ex-husband denied her.” Jack turned off the car with a shrug. “Come on . . . the longer we sit here, the more time they’ve got to plan.”

Getting out of the car, she let her eyes scan the front of the tall dark grey exterior with white shutters. A basketball hoop sat in the driveway along with several scooters and bikes. Hearing the car door shut, she felt Jack’s presence behind her with their bags. “Take a deep breath, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“You aren’t about to meet your boyfriend’s family.” She gently teased.

He laughed. “No but I had to sit through dinner with your family and I guarantee this will be much less organized than that was. There may even be a small food fight.”

“Something to look forward to then.” She grinned, lacing her fingers with his with a squeeze before they made their way up the steps just as the front door flew open.

“Momma, Jackie brought a pretty girl home.” Henry, she was impressed that she remembered his name, yelled into the house.

In the next moment, her hand was dropped as Jack was engulfed with hugs from his siblings. Their bags were dropped by the door as he swung a couple of them into his arms. She grinned watching him completely relax in the mayhem as an older woman, she presumed it was his momma, came closer to her. “I apologize for my children, it’s not often they’re away from their brother for this long. I’m Medda, Jack’s mom.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Katherine.” She grinned as Medda engulfed her in a hug. Looking over her shoulder, Katherine caught Jack’s eye as a giant smile crossed his face.

Jack clapped his hands, as the two women broke apart, both with grins on their faces. “Momma, gang, this is Katherine, my girlfriend. Katherine, this is the crew.”

A light blush crossed her face as she looked at the eight faces that surrounded her. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

“Wait . . how do you know us?” Smalls piped up, looking between her brother and mom.

Katherine smiled. “Your brother told me all about you . . .”

“Glad you know about us but we don’t know about you.” Race’s sarcasm came out as he looked between the girl and his oldest brother. “Thought we didn’t keep secrets, Jackie.”

And with that, he left the room, pounding up the stairs. A few seconds later, a door slammed. A sigh came over her shoulder as a shorter boy smacked Jack’s back a couple of times before shaking his head. “You knew he was going to bring out the dramatics, Jack. Want me to go talk to him?”

“Nah, I’ll do it, Spot.” Jack walked over to Katherine’s side. Lacing her fingers in with his, she gave it a quick squeeze, as he looked down at her. “Let me introduce Katherine to you all then get her settled and I’ll talk to him.”

The next few minutes were filled with introductions as Kat made small talk with all of them. She found out she had a lot in common with Albert, Charlie, and Spot. She cracked a couple of jokes that caught the attention of Smalls and Romeo. As promised, Henry slipped his hand into Kat’s and hadn’t let go the entire time she talked with Finch and Spot.

“I’m going to show her to her room then we’ll be down, okay?” Jack clapped his hands as she finished talking about her journalism major with Charlie.

Jack grabbed their bags before ascending the stairs. Along the way, he pointed out the kid’s bedrooms before leading her to the guest room, which was adjacent to his own room. “This is your room.”

Pushing open the door, she smiled at the brightly painted buttery yellow room. A bed sat in the middle with a small bedside table and an adjacent bathroom. “You get the best room in the house - you don’t have to fight for the bathroom.”

Putting her bag down beside the desk, she gave the room one more lookover before gasping. In the middle of her bed was a snake, basking in the sunshine. Taking a step forward, she carefully picked up the snake, running a finger, gently over its back. “And who might this be?”

Jack chuckled, surprised by his girlfriend’s gentle nature to the snake. “That’s Fluffy, Albert’s pet snake. You never told me you were comfortable around snakes.”

“It’s a ball python, Jack. They’re harmless.” She grinned, eyes floating over to the doorway where Albert and Charlie stood. “Let me guess, her cage accidentally got left open?”

The two at least had the decency to look guilty as they stepped into the room. “Yeah, sorry about that Katherine. We’ll just go put her back in her cage.”

“She’s sweet.” Kat called after them as Jack pulled her into his arms with a laugh.

He leaned down and kissed her quickly before pulling back. “You just won a buttload of brownie points with them. How about you freshen up while I go talk to Racer? I’m sorry about him, Kat.”

“Don’t be . . . I told you that you should’ve warned them you were bringing me home.” She gave him a look, before pushing to her tiptoes and brushing a kiss to his lips. “Love you regardless.”

“Love you too.” WIth a final kiss, he left the room as she took a seat on the bed and tried to calm her racing heart. Twenty minutes down, the entire weekend in front of her.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair before using the restroom before walking down the hallway trying to find out where Jack went. She heard his voice and followed the direction. Stopping in front of Jack’s room, she smiled seeing Race and Jack sitting on the bed beside one another. “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing her home?”

“I was nervous . . . I’ve never brought someone home and I didn’t want to hype it up anymore than it needed to be.” Jack admitted. “But I realized it backfired. I’m sorry, Racer. Do you forgive me?”

A quick nod of the head, Race grinned, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “You mentioned she picked up Fluffy?”

“Without an ounce of hesitation, as if she’s held one her whole life.” Jack said, with a shake of his own head.

“I had a ball python growing up. Her name was Izzy.” Kat took that moment to interrupt the two by leaning against the door. “Hi Race, I’m Katherine. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” He held out his hand for her to shake. She did with a grin. “I’m sorry about earlier . . . it just took me off guard.”

“No worries . . . I did tell your brother he should have told you all but he never listens.” She grinned.

Race’s eyes went wide at her comment. “He never listens . . . it’s one of his most annoying traits.”

“Oh, no. I’m going to regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Jack said, looking between his brother and girlfriend.

Kat laughed. “I think Race and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Kids, dinner.” Medda yelled up the stairs as a stampede of feet hitting the stairs was heard.

Jack and Race’s eyes went wide as they made their way to the hallway. “First rule of the household, Kat, dinner waits for no one.”

She watched Race run down the stairs as her and Jack took their time. Lacing fingers with Jack, they made their way into the dining room. All Kat could think was it was organized chaos, with all the kids trying to find a spot around the table. Two chairs were left open on Medda’s left, as Jack dragged her in that direction. “We have assigned seats around the table to stop anything from even starting.”

“Quit making us sound like heathens, Jack.” Race called from across Kat with a wicked grin. “You make us sound like we can’t control ourselves.”

Jack raised an eyebrow in Race’s direction. “Need I remind you about the great spaghetti disaster of 2015?”

Various shouts of disdain came from around the table as Kat’s head went from Race’s outrageous face to Medda putting her face in her hands with a groan. “I thought we promised to never talk about that, ever again.”

Jack put his hands up innocently at Medda’s exclamation. “Sorry momma . . . hence why we have assigned seating around this table.”

And with that, spaghetti was scooped onto plates and conversation hushed as everyone began eating. Katherine ate with gusto while listening to everyone talk about their day. Henry ran an animated discussion about preschool dramatics while Smalls just shook her head at her brother. “Thought you were allowed to be around Avery after you put paint in her hair?”

Henry at least has the decency to look guilty. “Well . . . that was last week. Monday was a new week.”

“Wait . . .” Jack held up a hand, looking around the dining room table. “Henry James, you put paint in Avery’s hair?”

Henry grinned brightly at his older brother. “Well . . . she started it by putting playdough in my milk cup. I had to get her back somehow.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kat watched Jack bite his lip to hold back the laughter that wanted to escape. “Well that wasn’t very nice.”

“Try having a conversation with his teacher about it.” Medda piped up, giving her youngest a look, while shooting a warning look to her oldest. “So how’s school going Jack?”

Taking a drink of water, Jack shrugged. “It’s going good. Finally got into the groove of classes and homework and balancing everything. I really like my art history class, the professor is really cool.”

“Sounds like a snoozer.” Albert piped up, giving his older brother a look.

“Of course you’d say that . . .” Romeo rolled his eyes at his older brother, before turning his attention to Jack. “Are you studying Monet or Rembrandt yet?”

Jack chuckled at Romeo’s dig at Albert before shaking his head. “Nah, we’re starting with Da Vinci but we’re going to be studying both of them.”

“Ugh . . . Da Vinci.” Romeo made a gagging noise which caused Kat to giggle at him. “Now talk to me when you’re studying Monet.”

“Alright nerds . . . moving on.” Race gave his brothers a look. “What is the plan for the weekend?”

Six eyes looked between Jack and Medda as Kat did the same. She was just along for the ride for the weekend. “Albert’s got a game tomorrow morning that I figured you’d want to go to Jack but other than that, there’s nothing planned.”

“I want to show Kat around a bit at some point but we can play that by ear.” Jack shrugged, looking at his girlfriend. “We can go to Al’s game . . . you know, Kat played soccer in high school.”

Albert’s eyes lit up at that. “What position did you play?”

“Center Midfielder.” She grinned. “My team went to state and lost in the final game in overtime, penalty kicks.”

Albert whistled slowly, shaking his head. “Tough break. I usually go outside after dinner to kick around in the backyard, if you want to join me.”

“I’d love to. Your brother doesn’t know how to kick a soccer ball properly.” She gave Jack a wicked grin before looking across the table at Albert. “He has absolutely no ball control.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Race pipped in, looking at Katherine. “There may have been several windows broken because someone has a left foot.”

Jack held up his hands in defense. “I didn’t realize the ball would go towards the house. I was aiming towards the field.”

“What are you even saying?” Kat gave him a look, shaking her head. “I don’t even know the words that are coming out of your mouth.”

Albert, Finch, Spot, Race, and Charlie all busted out laughing at Katherine’s bluntness. “Oh you’ve met your match, Jackie.”

Dinner quickly finished up, and before long the table was cleared before the family headed outside to enjoy the last few hours of the day. All the kids ran out into the big backyard while Jack and Medda hung out on the deck. “I’m so glad you’re home, Jack.”

“It’s good to be home momma. How have you been?” Jack looked over at the woman who had saved his life more times than he could count.

Medda reached out and patted his shoulder. “I’ve been good, busy with the kids, making sure they are all happy and have everything you need. It’s been an adjustment since you went back to school but it seems like we’ve got it all figured out now. But I won’t say that I haven’t missed you.”

“I have missed you too, momma.” Jack smiled. “And funny enough, I’ve even missed the zoo and the antics of everyone.”

She gave him a look. “Only you could call this place a zoo and live to tell the tale.”

“Oh momma, you love me so much more than the others. I’m your first born.” Jack grinned, knowing though Medda would deny it, it was true.

Medda watched Kat and Albert pass the ball back and forth between them. “Jack …. you know I love you all equally but I will say the house hasn’t been the same since you went back to college.”

“Is that a good thing or bad?” Jack asked, not really wanting to know the answer either way.

Medda chuckled. “I’ll let you figure that one out.”

Leaning back in the lounge chair, Jack watched his siblings and friends run around the yard. A game of chase had begun while Kat and Albert continued to kick the ball back and forth, dodging hitting anyone in the process. It was good to be home.

[userpoe]

alright so I've used the tag 'poe dameron and the no good, horrible, awful, terrible bad week' frequently on this blog regarding the events of tfa/tlj but I've never really expanded on this and usually when I see people mention Poe's trauma, it's usually only the fact that he was tortured (valid). So, without further ado, let's take a look into the amount of trauma my poor kid went through in the span of like...a week and a half (if I had to hazard a guess).

Almost dies pulling a ridiculously dangerous stunt to escape the Colossus with Kaz (Resistance)

Finds the remains of an outpost destroyed by the First Order, is the one to find a tooka doll in the wreckage (Resistance) and realizes what happened

Has to watch Lor San Tekka (a man Poe has spent a long time looking for and greatly admires) be brutally murdered. 

Is frozen with the Force and roughed up by some stormtroopers who take the advantage of the fact he couldn’t move 

Is taken captive and has to watch as another outpost full of civilians be slaughtered - unable to do a damn thing about it but cry out “no”

Is taken aboard the Finalizer where he is confronted by the fact that the First Order is more powerful/has more resources than he realized

By my estimate, he’s held there for a couple of days: it’s nighttime when he’s captured and we see Rey go through two days on Jakku in between scenes with Poe. So, I reckon he was tortured for most of the first night/most of the next day. His wounds suggest physical torture (bruising around his head, bunch of cuts on his cheek/nose and a busted lip) and the Poe Dameron Flight Log also states that he was tortured by an interrogation droid who was given orders to use any methods available to get him to talk, including neuroshocks (yay). The droid apparently asked Poe where the map/Luke was 813 times and he never broke.

By the end of the second day is when Kylo comes in. As far as I’m aware, there’s no detailed explanation of what Poe sees when Kylo goes through his head but I think it’s safe to assume from what we saw of Kylo doing the same thing to Del in Battlefront II that Poe likely to relive some of his pre-TFA trauma while Kylo searched for the location of the map.

Poe is actually unconscious by the time Kylo leaves the room.

In the Flight Log and in the Poe comics, it’s revealed that Poe believed he was a) going to be killed, b) thought he’d doomed the Resistance and the Galaxy. 

It’s day #3 that Finn comes to break him out. Poe’s so out of it still that he looks like he’s barely conscious when Finn comes to collect him. Obviously, things don’t go well and they crash.

Mid-crash, Poe ejects Finn out of the TIE Fighter, but is unable to eject himself out because his flight jacket got caught on the mechanism. He’s thrown out of the TIE Fighter (more physical injuries, yay), and stays unconscious for the rest of day 3.

Wakes up that night and wanders by himself for the night and some of the next day before he meets a scavenger who begrudgingly helps him out. Poe makes his way back to D’Qar, where he informs Leia of all the dozen ways he feels like he’s failed the Resistance, her, and the galaxy

(he never tells her who tortured him, though)

The New Republic is then destroyed. This is the government Poe believed in, served for years. It’s incredibly likely that Poe probably lived on one of the planets that was destroyed during his time in the fleet, and even more likely he lost old friends when it was destroyed.

Despite undergoing several days of torture + duress, Poe is sent to Takodana. When everyone returns to D’Qar, we see that it doesn’t appear he’s even visited a medbay at this point: he still has a busted lip and a lot of bruising.

When Starkiller sets its sights on D’Qar, they have to come up with a plan quickly. The Resistance is noted several times in the Poe comics to only have a handful of pilots: hell, there’s only about 400 people to evacuate in TLJ. They are officially the only people standing in between the galaxy and utter tyranny: no pressure or anything.

Since the bombing squadrons are out on a mission, the Resistance has to send twelve fighter pilots to take on a planet.

Only seven out of those twelve make it back alive (that shot of Poe growling mid battle? Yeah that’s after one of his pilots is killed).

Poe then discovers that Finn was gravely injured - Finn, who Poe probably feels a lot of responsibility for, since he’s there because of him, and who Poe already cares for a lot.

Not necessarily trauma related but it makes me emotional thinking about it: he hesitates long enough to make sure Rey is physically okay before taking off after Finn (you can spy Jessika and Snap watching after Finn worriedly in the crowd too!), and we later don’t see him leave Leia’s side: likely, he’s trying to keep an eye on her since he knows she’s grieving. 

The Resistance doesn’t get very long to celebrate, though. Shortly after Rey leaves for Ach-Too, they discover the FO has already recovered enough to launch an attack on D’Qar. 

As the Resistance discusses how to evacuate, Poe offers himself up as bait - knowing full well he could die by doing so. He’s scared, and Leia is too (we see this in TLJ, she’s actively nervous while on the comms with him). We even see him trying to calm himself down before he engages (”happy beeps”) once he has a moment to himself after calming Leia and BB-8 down (”c’mon buddy, we’ve pulled crazier stunts than this”).

Gets to listen to Hux threaten Leia, who Poe has spent the last sixteen years admiring and is one of the most important figures in his life/a surrogate mother figure. Literally, Hux calls Leia “[his] precious princess” 

(maybe if you’d kept your pasty mouth shut you’d still have a dreadnaught, Hux).

It’s worth noting that almost everyone Poe has loved and lost has died in a space battle, including his mother. The entire Resistance, everyone he has left, is currently vulnerable to dying a similar death.

Poe strapped on a pair of experimental boosters to Black One, knowing full well that they could possibly kill him: they’d never been tested before. In fact, the blow back when he does activate them is so bad, he’s almost knocked unconscious in the TLJ novelization.

Rounding back to Starkiller for a second, it’s easy to see why Poe misjudged the Dreadnaught situation: they managed to take down a freaking planet with twelve starfighters and a ground team of five. A dreadnaught should have been nothing in comparison (and his line of thinking is very similar to Lu’lo’s, the man who helped raise him after Shara died, who’s loss catapulted Poe from being cautious into more freely engaging with the First Order).

Instead, he loses....a lot of his pilots. It’s stated in Spark of the Resistance he was friends with Paige, who - you guessed it - he’s on comms with when she dies. They take out the Dreadnaught, so he tries to focus on that instead - but it’s obvious that it’s eating away at him.

He’s then demoted but barely gets time to process that because then the FO finds them. He offers to go “jump in an x-wing and blow something up” but instead arrives in the hanger just in time to see it go up in flames...with a bunch more of his friends (pilots and techs who were already there) dead. To make matters worse, he was on the comms with Tallie when she died. Please give him a break.

Immediately after this, all leadership is killed in an attack. Poe, Kaydel and Finn are watching from a window when Leia pulls herself back to the Raddus: which likely means they were staring in horror before Leia ever came to. He’s the first one to catch Leia when she reaches the airlock, and doesn’t leave her side until he has to, to attend the meeting with the surviving members of the Resistance.

He then has a CrisisTM when he mentally freaks out, wondering if Leia still left him in charge because he knows she’s been trying to mold him into her replacement (although he believes he’s not worthy and is just a soldier/pilot, nothing more). Look at his sigh of relief when Holdo is called instead! He was terrified.

Kind of thrown by her speech, which I reckon reminded him a lot of the officials he dealt with in the New Republic Navy. [smash cut noises] in Poe Dameron #14, after Lu’lo dies, Leia grounds Poe so he has time to process his grief instead of just throwing himself into the next mission because “Everything’s easy for Poe Dameron, right?” I imagine that’s why Poe was immediately at Holdo’s side: looking for something to do, something to distract him from his own regret, grief and fear. However, it doesn’t work, and he’s again reminded of the things he hasn’t time to process: namely, his demotion -- which likely bothers him less than the fact that it reminds him that the last conversation he had with Leia, she was disappointed in him and it was...essentially an argument.

However, when Holdo makes it clear she doesn’t want his help...Poe backs off. He listens to her, and finds something else to do.

Which is keeping an eye on Leia, apparently, since the next scene we see him, he’s in her quarters. I’m guessing he stopped long enough to get dressed after the meeting, and immediately went to go keep an eye on Leia after this.

After Finn and Rose detail the plan to him, he takes a moment to himself to hold Leia’s hand: no doubt trying to gather up the courage to step into a leadership role. This plan is exactly the kind of thing Leia has come up with for Black Squadron, which is probably why he agrees to it. He’s pulled stunts like this before, this should go well, right?

(Spoiler Alert: no one has any luck in this movie so It Does Not Go Well)

BB-8 goes with Finn and Rose, which leaves Poe on the Raddus without any of his usual support system. Black Squadron is on a mission to gather allies, so he officially has no one to talk to or lean on at this time. He’s utterly alone and the cracks start to show.

(TLJ Poe is a Poe very close to losing hope for the first time. He’s desperate and scared)

In the TLJ novelization, Poe helps evacuate the medical frigate before Holdo grounds him from aiding in future evacuations (??? for reasons never explained). Despite his own growing concerns, Poe greets all the newcomers and spends his free time trying to raise spirits around the Raddus. 

After seeing so many of his fellow Resistance members so desperate and without hope, Poe starts to worry everything Leia built is going to be destroyed. He even tells Holdo this, and her response is literally “Captain Dameron. If you’re here to serve a princess, I’ll assign you to bedpan duty.”

which...nice ableism there.

The Day Just Gets Worse and Worse and Poe has absolutely Nothing To Do with no idea how to help, and just a lot of waiting, and he hates that, he hates not being able to actively do something to protect the people he loves so he just gets more and more agitated until he eventually has a meltdown on the bridge.

Despite ALL OF THIS, he doesn’t even want to mutiny. It’s an attempt to buy Finn and Rose a little more time, it’s a last ditch effort, one that he doesn’t Remotely Look Happy About, and was never originally part of the plan.

He then hears Finn and Rose (over the comms, hooray I’m sensing a pattern) be found aboard Snoke’s ship. He realizes they didn’t make it, but doesn’t get time to focus on that because Leia shows up and stuns him.

He wakes up in a panic aboard the ship and (imo, because fellas I’m intimately aware of what one looks like) has a panic attack when he realizes they’ve abandoned ship. At this point, he doesn’t even know there’s a nearby planet to go to (Crait is uncharted), as far as he’s aware, the escape would’ve just been to drift in the weaponless (?) shuttles until they ran out of fuel again. Leia calms him down from it and gently explains the plan to him.

He gets to watch several other shuttles be destroyed, and tries to find out if theirs can go any faster (Leia’s on the ship with him). He then gets to watch Amilyn sacrifice herself and is the first to realize what she’s doing.

I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this but his line “Finn! Rose! You’re not dead! Where’s my droid?” yeah, Poe had no idea they were even alive, he probably thought they were immediately killed or died when Holdo did The Thing.

When they realize they’re trapped, the camera pans up on a worried looking Poe. Just before it cuts away, he’s starting to smile: he’s already prepping for a inspiring speech, despite his own fear. He doesn’t get a chance though, because Finn beats him to it: and then we get the heart eyes shot from Poe, because he realizes he isn’t alone any more (no this isn’t trauma related it just Gets Me In My FinnPoe feelings so)

They begin their run on the battering ram canon. After losing more pilots, Poe orders them to fall back, but Finn disobeys him in a direct parallel to Poe at the start of the film. This move is largely considered a suicide run on Finn’s part...[coughing] maybe the start of the movie was too [coughing]

Poe continues to get everyone to retreat and is the last one back on base. He runs with the medic team to check Finn and Rose, and also bolts to Leia’s side when Luke is fired upon to comfort her.

He panics again when he realizes they can’t get through the only other exit, but luckily they’ve got Rey on the other side.

Shortly after all this, Poe  has some drinks with Finn and Rey on the Falcon. He’s still mulling everything over and admits he wishes they’d all met earlier and wonders if things would’ve gone differently if the three of them met after Takodana (Poe Comics)

After Finn asks Poe what happened after the TIE crashed in TFA, Rey encourages Poe to tell them his story as she thinks it would be a “good distraction” from everything else. Poe hesitates, but goes through and literally retells a very traumatic series of events that’s barely a week old, so they have a distraction from everything. He plays it all off light-heartedly, cracking jokes (even says he went through a “little light torture”). 

It isn’t until Rey mentions that Kylo also tortured her that Poe treats it a little more seriously “he did that to me too!” and holds his drink up for her to cheer with him and calls them “torture buddies” because he’s Poe Dameron and trying to cheer people up is what he does.

Finn even calls out Poe’s insistence that everything will work out several times in the few issues set post TLJ. He can’t believe Poe has so much faith, but honestly? As much as Poe keeps saying everything is gonna work out, I wonder if he’s trying to convince Rey and Finn or himself.

Finn then asks Poe to catch him up on what happened while he was unconscious post Starkiller.

Let me reiterate that Poe literally just retold with some ease being held captive for three days to distract them.

But after he tells Finn he offered himself up as bait, Poe skirts around the rest of the story with a “well you know the rest!” He can’t even bring himself to talk about the Dreadnaught run. Talking about Kylo running through his head is easier for him than that.

He then receives a recording from Jessika retelling the events of what Black Squadron was up to during TLJ. When he starts the video, he almost immediately pauses it and asks Threepio how it ends. Poe admits he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the video ends with Jess going up in a fireball. Luckily, it doesn’t end that way, but he still has to watch the videos with no idea what happened to his closest and oldest friends.

All of this happens in, like, a week at the most. This doesn’t even BEGIN to touch on the trauma Poe goes through in the Poe comics or even Freefall, but if we did want to touch on that, I’d say that a lot of the events in TFA and especially TLJ probably triggered some bad memories for him. Poe Dameron deserves nothing but fluffy things and also a lot of hugs.

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 30 - Summer Camp

Chapter 29

SEASON - II

"Honestly I thought everything was going well between us," Y/N sighed moving her feet back and forth while sitting on the edge of the school swimming pool, "But we're back to square one. I mean...earlier he used to fight me but now..I don't know. Feels like we're in a weird position now. He isn't angry enough to despise me like before but...doesn't consider me a friend either?"

Kyoka looked at the retreating figure of her classmates and said, "Isn't that a good thing though?"

"No cause," her voice sounded eager and desperate, "now he doesn't even look at me or acknowledge me. I don't want to be just an extra to him."

"I don't even have an advice for you. The only thing I can say is that maybe you should just talk to him," Kyoka said getting up and walking towards the girl's bathroom.

"Are you kidding me?!" Y/N exclaimed, "Do you have any idea what you sound like right now?!"

"Holy shit you're so dramatic. It's not as hard as you think,"

"Oh yeah, tell me that after you ask Kaminari on a date. Forget about date, I bet you can't even ask him for a study session together,"

"A bet? Okay, if I ask him for study session, you gotta talk to Bakugou too. Deal?"

"...Okay," Y/N said, "Oh by the way, are you done shopping for the camp?"

"Now that you've finished up your first semester in U.A. High, summer vacation has official begun. However, don't think these will be months of rest for you heroes in the making. This camp will push you beyond your limits. You're aiming to be plus ultra," Aizawa said as their class stood near the bus.

Y/N eyes automatically searched for the blonde who was standing with his best friend as expected. She sighed and looked at the students of section B who were getting in the bus.

"Just talk to him," Y/N heard Kyoka say standing beside her. She was about to remind her of their deal when Kyoka interrupted her and said, "And before you say it, I already asked Kaminari and we agreed on being study buddies."

"...you were already study buddies weren't you?"

Kyoka smirked and said, "Well, you didn't specify any detail in the deal."

"You found a loophole! That's-"

"Look, I wouldn't force you to talk to someone like him if it wasn't bothering you. And honestly, the last thing we need is stress outside of whatever we are already facing right now."

"Okay, you've got a point," Y/N muttered and looked at Bakugou, "I'll...talk to him later."

"Hey we're going to a camp and I think you've got plenty of time to get him alone to talk."

"Easy for you to say. He won't come if he doesn't want to talk."

"The bus is here!" Tenya's voice boomed, "Everyone line up in seating order!"

The ride was pretty much tiring but exciting at the same time. It managed to make Y/N forget about the deal and focus on the training they were going to get. Besides her own, she also noticed the unusual change in another friend's behavior - Ochaco. Either Midoriya was influencing her to act that way or the girl definitely felt something for her school friend. It put a smile on her face.

It was cute. Both of them really felt the same for each other, but then again, both of them were awful in talking about their own feelings.

Class 1-A arrived on a mountain top around nine in the morning. Aizawa didn't waste any time and introduced the pro-hero team that will train them: the Wild, Wild Pussycats.

"We own this whole stretch of land here- everything you see. The summer camp you're staying at is at the base of the mountain," Mandalay said.

"Uh..then why did we stop all the way up here instead?" Uraraka asked.

"I'm afraid we both know the answer to that," Tsuyu said.

"The current time is 9:30 in the morning. If you're fast about it, you might make it by noon," Mandalay said and the students try to rush back on to the bus to avoid the harsh training, but Pixie-Bob used her quirk to spill them over the mountainside and into the Beast's Forest.

Pixie-Bob used her quirk to create monsters made from the earth, one of which immediately tried to attack Mineta and Izuku jumped in to save him. As the monster approached them, Todoroki froze it's feet and Y/N took no time to use her quirk and break it, making it lose it's balance. Bakugou and Iida then worked on breaking it's hands and Midoriya used his quirk to smash it into pieces.

"You guys took that beast out in seconds!" Sato said.

"You showed that thing who's boss," Kirishima said, turning to Bakugou.

"We're not done," he replied.

Ofcourse it wasn't that easy. The place was known as the Beast's Forest for a reason. It was filled with monsters made by Pixie-Bob and Class 1-A started forming teams and taking down each one of them on their way to the summer camp.

Y/N was about to join the boys she just assisted in taking one down, but looking at Bakugou's face, she realized that...

...she wasn't really needed there. She turned and joined Ochaco and Tsuyu's team instead.

They reached the lodge well after their initial allotted time limit, arriving at some point during the evening. Class 1-A was severely worn out, but the pro-heroes congratulated them anyway.

"I thought it would take you kids even longer but you did much better against my dirt monsters than I thought you would. You guys were seriously great, especially..." Pixie-Bob said, "..the five of you! It seems like you've got quite a bit of experience!"

She jumped forward towards them, "I got dibs on these kittens! I'll groom them myself!" According to Mandalay, she was at the age of finding her mate.

And almost like out of instinct, Y/N moved forward infront of Bakugou to prevent her from being near him but...well, she didn't exactly realize that she was one of those kittens too. Covering her face, she stepped back so Pixie wouldn't kiss her and she hit her back on someone. Feeling the hard chest on her back, she looked up and behind her, as her face soon turned red. Bakugou was standing with his usual frown and looking down at her.

While Izuku was getting kicked on his groin by the kid named Kota, a tiny staring session went on between Bakugou and Y/N. He clicked his tongue and walked back, pushing her forward lightly.

"The last thing I want is to hang with some wannabe heroes," Kota glared at Iida who was holding Izuku.

"That brat's got spunk," Bakugou smiled looking at him.

"He's like a mini version of you," Todoroki and Y/N said, in unison. They looked at each other and chuckled.

Bakugou like always turned to him and yelled, "What are you talking about?! You need to shut up before I blast you all the way up to hell!" But wait, only to him.

He ignored her again.

"Enough playing around. Get your stuffs off the bus. Once your bags are in the room, we'll have dinner in the cafeteria. After that you can bathe and sleep," Aizawa said cutting their argument short, "Tomorrow your training starts so you better get a move on."

As everyone started walking towards the bus, Y/N decided to talk to Bakugou. She had to know if there was a reason. Well, there has to be right? Earlier they used to fight but Bakugou stopped that too.

She walked and paced with him. "So are you gonna tell me what's up with you?" Y/N asked, "You're acting...different around me."

"Shut up and move," he grumbled in response.

"Just...just talk to me. Cause you are avoiding me and it's pretty evident."

"You needed to study, I taught you and you passed. That's it," he looked at her and gave a straightforward answer, "We've nothing else to talk about, damn extra."

The words jolted her from whatever stance she was in. She stopped by her tracks and looked at him walking away nonchalantly like he didn't just drop a bomb on her head. And that word, that term he used on her was exactly what she feared. That she was just some extra to him. Not even a...friend. She sighed and ran towards the bus to get her stuffs, avoiding the little pain in her heart and controlling her emotions.

On the other hand, the blonde looked at the girl packing her stuffs, her face having no expressions at all. But that was it, right? He chose the right words..correction: word.

Sure he wanted to know all about her weakness, something to annoy her. But Bakugou didn't expect himself to be someone capable of affecting her that much.

Oh he loved it. Loved the control and power he had over her.

But that was no where near as much as he hated to admit the thumping that his heart did the day she kissed him in the hospital.

Chapter 31

SEASON - III

Ignite

MASTERLIST

Tags: @honeylemondragonemperor​ @mikithekiki​ @kkikiss​

[diosefm]

FROM THE DESK OF DIOSE VALEY II

when: all of these letters were written during the dawn of day two of the train hijack where: written in her train car, all letters were left on people’s rooms in the morning of day two. for those in train one, letters should be delivered the next time everyone sees each other triggers: mentions of death, threats of violence, paranoia mentions: cabil, mommy pista, @pista-clearmark , @givcnup , @cinnc, @swannscngs  , @blythefm​ , @sinksand & tiberius who is still dead

CABIL,

I know that after your conversation you probably do not wish to hear of me again, and I understand. After everything that has happened and what has been done to you, I don’t think that us Capitol people really deserve people’s pity. I don’t intend to ask you for that, nor do I want to ask for your forgiveness. I just needed to write you this and thank you for not coddling me. 

I deserved it. And not because I want to victimize myself. I’ve never been a victim, more like a victimizer. I am seeing that now. It’s almost astounding what you can realize when those you have hurt have the opportunity to tell you what they really think about you in your face. And you might have not done that outright, but your message was very clear to me.

I won’t bore you with my inner conflicts. I am writing this because Pista mentioned something to me, something about you having someone waiting for you back home. And again, I know that this really isn’t any of my business but this is something I really want to do and would be honored if you say yes.

In the event that you were to marry your girlfriend, I would love to pay for everything and offer my services as a designer. You don’t have to say yes. All I ask is that you keep this letter and if one day you are able to forgive me, my offer will still stand.

Best wishes, Diose Valey.

HELENA,

I apologize for subjecting you to this. I can only imagine how awkward it must be to receive a letter from a complete stranger, especially one that is so deeply personal and filled with apologies.

But, I feel the need to apologize for putting your son in danger. It was easy for me to just involve Pista because I vaguely knew of him and his knowledge of trains and that was the only thing that mattered to me. It wasn’t until I saw the way you looked at him that something stirred inside of me. It made me think of my own mother, made me wonder if she had ever looked at me with such love and devotion. I’m scared of finding the answer. 

I don’t want to talk about you. My intention is to tell you how sorry I am that I involved Pista in my plans. They worked, yes, but we were lucky. No, more than that. Your son refused to leave me when things god bad. I wanted to make him promise that he wouldn’t because I kept thinking of you and I couldn’t let something happen to him and hurt you. But he shot me down. And not only that, but showed me the empathy I never expected to receive given who I am. That’s what made me see what an amazing job you did raising him. I can only hope that if life ever gives me the chance of being a mother, I can be like you.

Once again, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping this on you and for almost taking Pista away from you.

PISTA,

It wasn’t until I was able to lie down in bed that I remembered you. Your face was familiar, of course. I’d catch glances of you every year at the Capitol, but I couldn’t quite place you until I was left alone with my thoughts. At first I only remembered you due to Slate mentioning you during our conversations. It’s what made me come to you for help. My head just told you knew trains, having always being a hard worker who never got into trouble. But of course, Slate never mentioned your games. I remembered those on my own.

I was just a teenager so the memories are fuzzy at best. And of course, I didn’t pay attention. I was self absorbed, just saw a sobbing boy I foolishly thought had a lot of growing up to do. But there is always more than meets the eye. It’s curious, really. I would have never thought that decades later you would be the one actually helping me mature. 

You didn’t have to help me. You could’ve just left me to my own devices and stayed with your people. I keep thinking about your mother, about how I wouldn’t forgive myself if you didn’t come back to her because of my doing. It’s why I begged for you to not wait for me. Slate never taught me anything. I just couldn’t bear the thought of being the one that left a mother without her child. Which is stupid, really. That is something I have been doing for decades, just dressing up children before they’re sent to their deaths. And I know that many of the parents do want their children there, but I refuse to use that to justify my actions. Maybe that worked in the past, but not anymore.

I don’t think I really understood what empathy was until who had some for me despite of who I am. And yes, I am aware of how awful that sounds now. I wasn’t lying to you when I said I was working on dealing with all of this. I’ll keep trying. 

GRIFFIN,

Thank you. 

I could say more. Go on a tangent and talk about how much I dislike you, but that is unnecessary right now. All that you told me did bother me, but it was all because none of the things you mentioned were a lie. I guess that’s what I needed. And I hope you enjoyed it, because it is not happening again. Not because I cannot bear the thought of you having the upper hand, but because I hope that after everything that has happened, we can see eye to eye. 

You might not know this, but I was very close to Nelly once. And despite everything and the years I spent away from her, i still trust her judgement. And if she likes you and has taken care of you for years, it must be because you are worth it. I just pray you don’t ruin anymore of my dresses. Hating you is pointless, especially over something to silly. And now that we are seeing eye to eye now, well, I’ve taken it upon me to ensure you don’t hurt that woman.

You are a good man, Griffin Cripes. I apologize for not seeing it until now.

CINNA,

This is obvious to everyone, but it still has to be said. I need to confront these feelings if I truly want to be be able to seek repentance. 

I tried to sabotage you. I screamed and complained for what seems like hours, angry that someone had dared to overshadow me. I blamed you for whatever minuscule thing that happened to ruin my day when you first started working for the games. I made plans, swore I would find a way to ensure you would not get any more work after what had been done to me. I thought you were personally trying to ruin my reputation, but it was just my paranoia and Tiberius encouragement making it all worse. 

I feel like the past few days my mind has come up with a million excuses that would attempt to paint me as the victim, but I swear that is never my intention. I have a lot to work on, just like I have so many people I need to apologize to. And you’re one of them, hence this letter. 

It is an awful attempt at it, I know. I keep repeating this to myself and others, but I am trying. I promise I will have something better once we see each other face to face again. I just need time to properly deal with my own conflicting emotions, but I am sure you understand.

SWANN,

My behavior in the past was not the best. Not towards you, and especially not towards Virgo. 

I was possessive and overprotective, that I am ready to accept now. Paranoid too. With so many people whispering into my ears, I was led to believe you had ulterior motives and did not truly care about my sibling. But it was far from it, wasn’t it? I certainly could have brought this up during our conversation, give you a better apology but... Maybe I am a coward. Destroying lives and relationships is easy, but building them is what I seem to struggle with. 

Even after our meeting, I  left your train car and still asked myself if I had done enough to apologize. After a few hours, I realized I hadn’t. So you get this stupid, sentimental letter that is still not gonna feel like enough. Virgo would be much better at all of this, but I don’t have them with me right now. But on their behalf, I owe you not only several apologies, but a big thank you. 

They are not like me. It has its pros and its cons. They’re their own person, and many of what they’ve accomplished is also because of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this.

--- 

TIBERIUS,

With your connections, I am sure that by the time you read this you will know what I have done.

I don’t regret anything, Tiberius. If I am writing you one last letter before I put an end to our correspondence for good is because I need you to understand how much I’ve learned to despise you these past few weeks. I almost can’t believe that at one point I dared to think that I ha— No, I’m not doing this.

If I see you lurking around me, my sibling, or Slate I swear that all the things I’ve done to people throughout the years (so many of them for your own benefit) will seem like mere child’s play compared to what will happen if you force me to unleash my rage upon you. The bullshit about everyone that isn’t us being an enemy is over. I know who the real enemy is now.

I’m not scared of you. Never was, and never will. Fuck you.

BLYTHE,

I don’t know the truth. Virgo won’t talk to me, but they’re also absolutely terrible at keeping things hidden. I’ve seen the letters and the paintings, so I can only assume that something is going on between you two. And it did bother me. First because I didn’t think you were enough. I told myself that was the only reason, that I was just looking out for them but now I’ve realized I was tricking myself into not accepting that for the first time in my life, I was jealous of them. 

You probably won’t care about this. In fact, I am sure that before I finish this sentence this letter will already be destroyed. But I need to put this somewhere not only for my own sake, but for Virgo. If there is someone that does not deserve to suffer because of me, it’s them. 

They had a proper childhood, I did not. They are now able to experience something I have only heard about due to those corny TV dramas they love so much. And it hurts. I kept it to myself. Showing vulnerability is something I have never allowed myself to do, but when it involves love and caring, I had to bury my feelings somewhere. Except I buried my worries and let my anger and jealousy affect them. It’s not happening again. Regardless of these feelings still being present, I cannot continue hurting them just because for once, they’re thriving at something I am not.

If you are still reading, this letter is a plea for you to take care of them. And a threat as well. Because if you dare to hurt them in any way, I can promise you that all those feelings I’ve buried will come out and you will learn what dealing with what I am capable of doing when I am upset.

AVEN

I loved Desmond. Friendships don’t come easy to me, but he was talented enough to change that and earn a place in my inner circle. His last name helped, yes, but at the end of the day that was not why we remained closed.

After he was gone, blaming you was easy. Spreading rumors gave me a purpose, made me believe I had the upper hand, that I still knew better. But what I made others whispers behind your back wasn’t the only information we had. Many of us just refused to listen to it. At the end it benefitted no one but Snow. 

I’m sorry you lost your husband. That was what you deserved to hear years ago instead of our complaints and unfounded grievances. I have no way of fixing the damage I caused. I will not attempt to excuse it. It happened and you suffered deeply for it. That is what matters. 

Maybe one day you will allow me to not only explain myself, but apologize. I still have a lot to do in regards to facing all the horrible things I did and what the Capitol’s indoctrination did to my psyche, but I hope that by the time we have a chance to see each other, I will have more to offer you than an I’m sorry.

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Necessary Repairs

Part III. I don’t even know if you have to read any of the other parts. SecUnit should probably have slept through most of its own healing, but that’s not this machine’s luck.

Part I | Part II

At some indeterminate point later, I woke up.

I was receiving minimal sensory data, and none of it was sight-related. A diagnostic subroutine spun up and casually began sending me bursts of error messages I couldn't even begin to translate.

Oh, and the world was pitch black.

It took me more than five seconds to determine that the darkness was self-inflicted and open my eyes. Longer still for the random noise to resolve into sounds I could understand -- the hum of an air circulation system, at least two distinct voices, and an automated warning system. My connection to the feed stabilized, but the walls that normally guarded my mind against its onslaught were conspicuously absent.

Something else was shielding me, something big and surprisingly gentle.

Friend?

I could feel cold metal under my back and head, probably the medical suite platform. My internal temperature refused to rise, so I was shivering and couldn't stop. It felt like I was still leaking, and the pain ebbed and flowed with each passing moment.

“Would you like me to turn up the heat?” Transport asked.

Yes. Where the hell am I?

I felt a mild shock as the governor kicked in. It hadn't liked my tone, apparently, or the phrasing of my answer, and wasn't shy about letting me know. The standard code read, "you're outside of protocol and need to adjust your attitude."

Silently, I cursed the damn thing. I was getting used to life without it.

A moment later, Transport answered, "SecUnit, you're still in medical, and your performance rating, while stable, remains abysmally low."

The ship paused and sent me a couple of data packets that succinctly described all the things still wrong -- which was most of them. I should've probably remained in stasis, but the medical unit was calibrated for humans. So, it hadn't given me nearly enough sedative to knock out the organic parts of a construct for any appreciable amount of time.

I was awake, kind of.

"I'm waiting for your vital signs to improve," Transport added. "Until then, would you like to watch an episode of that one show you liked?"

Yes, please.

The ship's calm tone reassured me, even though everything else looked like shit. My diagnostics were coming back with nonsense, still. The governor couldn't find a SecSystem to connect with. The Traveler didn't have or need one of those; it had a skeleton HubSystem instead managed security, life support, and logistics. My inflexible governor couldn't figure out how to interface with it.

Surprise, surprise...

It fell back on some preprogrammed garbage, complete with a minimal set of actions and responses. "Yes, please" and "No, thank you" was probably the best I could manage at the moment without incurring its wrath. I'd try poking at it later when my performance no longer looked quite so dramatically sad.

Captain Owens pulled up a chair and sat down where she could see me. Transport shared the view from one of its cameras, so now I could see her, too. It also queued up an episode of a long-running serial and waited for the captain before it started playing. I wanted to ask about the hostiles but couldn't -- thanks governor -- and Transport didn't seem inclined to enlighten me.

I suppose it was only fair; it was doing its best to keep me calm.

MedSystem sorted out the sleeping issue in the meantime and had injected more sedatives into my resupply channel, so sleep was happening shortly, whether I liked it or not. I could practically feel my diagnostics slowing down to a crawl since they relied on data from my organic parts, which were affected by the drugs.

"Good afternoon, SecUnit. I'm glad to see you're awake." The captain nodded in my direction and then turned toward someone I couldn't see. "As I mentioned, thanks to SecUnit, we came out of the boarding attempt in one piece. I'm sorry to hear your ship wasn't as lucky."

A stranger in formal wear came into camera view as he approached Owens. I figured he was the owner of that second voice I hadn't been able to identify earlier. The logo on his tunic looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. Parts of my memory felt like tangled network cables.

"Indeed, but this is still better than nothing. I don't suppose you've already contacted your bonding company?"

The captain's face scrunched up in confusion. "We're insured outside of the Corporation Rim," she explained. "I've sent a message, but I'm here pretty much on my own."

Outside of the Rim, everything appeared to work in ways that were incompatible with corporation control.  A lot of the propaganda around freehold planets implied they were a complete shitshow. Except, clearly, the Traveler was doing just fine.

I had a sudden burst of "bad feeling" in my organic neural tissue. Something about the newcomer didn't sit right with me. I thought it might be unwise for the captain to tell him anything about herself or her ship.

"No, thank you." It sounded like my voice, but I didn't remember speaking. Hi buffer, I thought I'd never see you again.

The newcomer gave me a puzzled glance. "So, where'd you get your unit then?"

Owens shrugged and schooled her expression. I'd seen that face before when she'd spoken to her daughter before our first jump. "I rented it from a friend, as a security consultant. It's doing a great job."

I was?

I mean, the human was alive, and the Traveler had an intact hull, so I guess things weren't terrible. I could practically hear the Transport laughing on a private channel. If I could roll my eyes, I probably would have, but the governor frowned on that sort of thing, and my eyes had closed minutes ago.

"I see. Well, if you wouldn't mind giving us a hand with repairs, we can both be on our way." The man watched the captain like a hawk. "I would also recommend getting your unit checked out at a licensed repair station when you get a chance. With this level of damage, there's no telling what other problems are hiding under the surface."

As far as statements go, it was polite enough, but I didn't like it. It sounded to me like a threat.

Performance rating dropping. Initiating emergency shutdown.

I really would prefer you didn't.

***

Memory fragment:

The mining installation doesn't inspire confidence. There are eight of us and two combat models. Ten security units should be enough to keep a workforce of 153 miners and a dozen more supervisors in line. Everything looks worn and rundown, including the humans.

Protocol dictates that we take shifts. A human has created a schedule to which we adhere. The two combat units are mixed in with the rest of us.

It's my patrol shift. I walk through one of the mining shafts and stop at the far end. I can hear a supervisor arguing with two of her employees—something about the rocks they've uncovered. I turn around, ready to head back to the primary installation, when one of the combat units walks up to the three humans.

It has been summoned by the supervisor.

The supervisor tells it to fire on the workers. It does, without question. Bodies crumple to the floor. Then, the supervisor notices me.

***

Transport popped into my feed. "Wake up, SecUnit. How're you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

The words were out before I could consider the consequences, and I braced for an electric shock -- or worse. Nothing happened. Performance reliability was at 87% and rising steadily. My diagnostics routines had run several times, and the results looked promising. I was also no longer leaking, and most of my organic parts had grown back.

I had two arms again. That was nice.

Transport shared a smiling sigil. Reason unknown. "You did get shot, silly. MedSystem patched you up pretty well. If you're up to it, my captain and I could use your help." It paused and added, "Captain suggested that you might want payment in exchange for services rendered. That's how it works in CR, right?"

I had my doubts about anything actually working in the Corporation Rim. Still, arguing with a clearly sentient ship about theoretical economics didn't sound appealing. I'd rather get shocked again.

"OK," I said aloud and sat up. "Priority question: who was here earlier?"

"Dr. Alexander Soren is the current captain of an ArialHydra exploration vessel. They are stranded in this sector after a pirate attack. Captain Owens speculates that it may be the same group of pirates. We were lucky to have you on board."

Lucky. Right.

I shoved off the platform and crumpled to the floor in a pile of arms and legs. Hi there, limbs. A few minutes later, I managed to get up and stumble around under my own power. I admit to sitting on the floor and trying out my new arm. It didn't have a cannon -- MedSystem didn't have the required parts -- but it was fully functional, otherwise.

"I've seen Dr. Soren before." I couldn't remember where. That bothered me.

"Perhaps you were deployed on one of his survey missions?"

"I don't know."

One of the ship's drones floated into the room, carrying spare clothing, which it dropped directly on my head. I grabbed at the falling fabric and started getting dressed. It was the Traveler's standard-issue uniform, beige and blue and generally not hideous. I missed the protective qualities of armor, but it would've been weird to wander through the ship's pristine, carpeted halls with it on.

Captain Owens walked into the medical room and waved at me and the drone. "I see you're both here and scheming."

"We're not scheming, and technically, I'm everywhere," Transport informed us.

"I don't think you should trust Dr. Soren," I blurted out.

Owens narrowed her eyes. "Do you know anything you'd care to share?"

I shook my head. Constructs don't get gut feelings -- we don't even have a gut to have them with -- and my memories of any encounters with the doctor had been removed. Memory wipes aren't typical, but occasionally, a bonding company or a manufacturer/repair company decides they're necessary. I've had at least one that I know about. I also had no idea how to explain that my organic neurons probably remembered things the rest of me didn't.

"Well, in that case, has Trav told you what we need?" At my puzzled expression, the captain said, "We gave the other ship supplies, and they're almost ready to depart. And they're making a fuss about..." She sighed. "Something. I really don't care. They'll be coming back aboard in a few hours to discuss whatever it is. And I would feel much better if you were there. Just in case. And only if you're feeling up to it."

Protecting humans was literally the only thing I liked about my job. "OK."

"Great. Do you want a weapon?"

"Depends on how threatening you want me to look." Any weapon I wielded would be for show unless the human was in danger. And if she was, I had a miniature cannon hidden inside an arm.

The captain pondered this for a moment. Her face went through a range of expressions that Transport interpreted for me as "Captain Owens thinks the other ship's posturing is stupid and would like to be on her way, but it would be impolite to leave, so here we are." I agreed with the captain's assessment.

Finally, she said, "Let's try without any extra threats and see what happens. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

Transport suggested we spend the time between now and the upcoming meeting watching more of its favorite shows. I agreed.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Paralian (II)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+ 

Warnings: reader is a virgin, oral (female), body worship, hand holding  

Genre: Pirate!AU + Merfolk!AU + Royalty!AU

Synopsis: Far away, under the sea exists the merfolk Kingdom of Venetus. Y/N is a warrior princess, sworn to protect the nation she loves. Each night she and her unit are tasked with patrolling the ocean, until one night they come across an unmarked ship. The ship carries a dangerous secret which tears Y/N’s ideals apart. In the midst of escaping said danger, Y/N is forced to rely upon a Prince. The Prince of Pirates, whose fate and Y/N’s seem inexplicably entwined. Whether their meeting will end in joy or heartbreak remains to be seen. (A -very- loose retelling of The Little Mermaid).

Word Count: 6,530

A/N: This one shot takes place after Paralian, a one shot which can be found here. I highly recommend you read Paralian before reading this.

Leaning your hands on the rail of the ship, you stare at the inked sea before you.

The night is calm, as is the dark surface of the ocean. It is not yet the season for storms – that will come later, when the air of the city is heavy and stifling with heat. When it weighs upon skin as heavily as the water. This is what Jimin explained when you asked about Paralian seasons.

Turning, you survey the deck of the schooner. It has been several weeks since you arrived in Venetus. Already, you miss the warmth of the ocean, the familiarity of home and the faces of friends. Of course, Paralian is not all bad. Taehyung came with as an assistant of sorts. Ever since you met Jungkook’s crew, the young merman has harbored a fascination with humans.

You have made new friends as well; some of whom may one day mean as much to you as your merfolk. Still, everything about this land is different. There are many sectors of Venetus, but each Lord and Lady who presides respects your father as ruler. This is not so in Paralian. Many despised the old King and now, with Jungkook as monarch, they remain skeptical of his rule.

Each time you see Jungkook, he seems tired. Dark circles ever-present under his eyes and you hear from the servants he sleeps little at night. Even when he locks himself in his tower, it is only to work. He pours over histories of past, treaties of present and pushes himself to create new solutions. His tenacity is one you recognize and so, you respect it.

It is why you have not sent for him since your arrival. The best way to help is by doing your duty and so, you go about your daily business, meeting with foreign dignitaries at your father’s request. Your presence has provoked mixed reactions at best. Paralian remembers the war, even if you do not.

Still – you have achieved a few noteworthy items. Yoongi’s position on the Council is accepted and the slave trade in Paralian has ended. You initiated a coalition of aid to be sent to Aurelian in the hopes of ending their land-locked battle.

With a sigh, you glance again at the sea. There is still much to be done, but as your father always warns, permanent change takes time. He is right, but you have never been known for your patience.

Tightening your grip on the rail, you glance at the rich silk gown you wear. Earlier tonight your deck held a party. One thrown by Taehyung in an attempt to meet more of the Paralian nobility. For the most part it worked – although now, multiple women from Jungkook’s court are madly in love with the young, blonde merman.

Laughing softly, you drain the rest of your champagne.

Champagne is another thing you have tried since coming to Paralian. It is not available, nor is it practical under the sea – on land though, it is considered a delicacy. You cannot help but agree, since the fizzy sensation is wonderful, although you must be careful not to overindulge. The first time you drank, you did not understand and Taehyung spent the better part of an evening holding your hair over a bucket.

Vomiting is an unpleasant human sensation. Grimacing at this, you step away from the rail. Only a few Paralians remain onboard your ship. Taehyung is surrounded by admirers, as he usually is. Bringing him instead of Hoseok was a purposeful decision. Hoseok is many things, but charming is not one of them – this is something he knows and embraces. Taehyung is here to smooth over the feathers you ruffle.

He laughs at someone’s joke, the mercurial noise booming over the deck. Most of the party’s attendees have staggered to land, filling the halls of Paralian taverns until the wee hours of the morning. You will not follow – you cannot. Instead, you return to your cabin and prepare for tomorrow.

Another long day awaits, filled with small talk and meetings. Handing your glass to a server, you gather your skirts and cross towards your rooms. Taehyung catches your eye when you pass, beckoning to join the crowd at his side. The glass in his hand is still full, as are those of the people around him. Chuckling, you shake your head no and continue. It was a polite gesture, more than anything else; Taehyung knows the nobles are uncomfortable around you, due to your title.

Your cabins are at the far end of the hall, taking up the entire stern of the ship. It seemed extravagant when you boarded, but Taehyung insisted upon the arrangement. Half of politics is presentation, he argued and you reluctantly agreed.

The door creaks when it opens, pausing in darkness to fumble for a light. This is another difference between Paralian and home. In Venetus, all rooms are lit by bioluminescence but here, the lamps are oil and fire. Your fingers are clumsy striking the match; you nearly burn yourself twice in the process. In your first few days ashore, you burnt yourself often while becoming accustomed.

Your Paralian servants are always here to help, but you shoo them away. It is not because you do not trust them – although, come to think of it, perhaps you should not. You trust Jungkook and certain members of his court, but you cannot deny that animosity exists. You have experienced it often from the deck of your ship.

Releasing a sigh, you stare at yourself in the mirror. These quarters are another source of discomfort. Removing pins from your hair, you place these on the dresser. Living in Paralian, you are confined to this ship. Jimin once spoke of a wing Jungkook intends to build in the palace, one ankle-deep in water, but that is years away at best. In the meantime, you are forced to live within a few thousand square feet.

The claustrophobia is a far cry from your endless Kingdom of water. Glancing outside your window, you stare at the night sky. The stars seem dim in comparison to the town. Another oddity, in your opinion. Why bother to use artificial light, when the stars and moon are brighter than anything conjured?

Shaking your head, you begin to undo your laces – apparently, it is frowned upon for Paralian women to wear trousers – when a knock sounds at your door.

Your head jerks up, hands falling to your sides. It is unusual for someone to call upon you at this hour. Taehyung would not, unless it was an emergency and hurriedly, you rush to the door. Since leaving Venetus, you have not carried your sword on this ship. It lies, polished and unused, upon the oak of your desk. You stare at this for a moment before deciding against it. If someone truly wished you dead, they would not bother to knock.

Gripping the handle, you open the door.

Jungkook stands in the hall, framed by the moonlight.

You blink. Since your arrival, he has not visited once. Likely, this is due to his aforementioned schedule, but you cannot deny it hurts. After all that transpired between you, you thought – perhaps wrongly – he would wish to see you.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Good evening, Princess.”

“Evening?” Your brow raises despite yourself. “It is nearly midnight, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook makes a face. “There’s no need for such formality.”

“I believe you started it, Majesty, by calling me Princess.”

Jungkook stares for a moment, then smiles. “I suppose I did,” he admits.

He seems tired. Dark circles shadow his eyes, the crease of his jacket is wrinkled and his posture, normally impeccable, is slouched. The weight of his crown seems heavier than gold upon his brow. Still, he is beautiful and you cannot look away.

“Jungkook?” you prompt when he says nothing more. “Was there something you wanted to ask?”

“I – er, yes. No. Kind of?”

Your lips press together, hiding your amusement. “Well, which is it?”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “I actually... came here to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Careful, you keep your words light. “Whatever for?”

“Please,” Jungkook murmurs. His gaze glints in the darkness. “I think you know what for. I have not been a very gracious host.”

“On the contrary.” Turning around, you re-enter your rooms. Leaving the door open, you invite him over the threshold. “My living spaces are adequate, my food always warm, my meetings arranged. It is everything an Ambassador could hope for.”

“You are not only an Ambassador to me.”

Your feet freeze, heart hammering your ribcage. His tone conjures memories which have haunted you for months. The press of his lips near the water, the whispered entreaties against your skin. You yearn for this, long to hear those words again – much in the same way you long for the sea.

The topic has not been revisited since your arrival and in this, you wondered if you were alone. Perhaps it was merely grief which caused him to kiss you. Perhaps he has forgotten, or time has lessened his wanting.

Behind you, the door softly closes. “Y/N.” Jungkook sounds distressed. “Say something.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress. “Say what?” you ask, hardly daring to breathe. If you turn around now, if you see him, there is no telling what you might do.

Jungkook’s footsteps grow closer behind you. “I would understand if you are angry.” He walks until he faces your front. “I – I know I should have come sooner.”

Tilting your chin up, you meet his gaze. “I don’t fault you for that.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Mm.” Jungkook looks at you strangely. “But that isn’t why I stayed away.”

Reeling backwards, you attempt to compose your features. That is not what you thought he would say. “I – oh,” you stammer, uncertain what to do now.

Swiftly, Jungkook catches your hands in his. “I kept wanting to come,” he admits, slightly hoarse. “I did. And I was busy, but that wasn’t the main thing keeping me from you.”

“Oh?” Gaze roaming his face, your brow furrows. “Then, what was?”

“I was scared.”

“Scared? That doesn’t sound like the fearsome pirate I know.”

“Not a pirate anymore,” he reminds, glancing up at his crown. “In my short time as monarch, I’ve found Kings are afraid of all sorts of things.”

His words are reminiscent of your father. An entire Kingdom at his fingertips and what your father feared most was losing you, losing your mother. Slowly, you begin to understand what is bothering him.

“Jungkook,” you say kindly. “What frightens you?”

“Many things.” His grip tightens on yours. “I’m scared of leading my country to danger. Scared my instincts are all the wrong ones. I’m afraid of becoming attached,” he admits, “only to be hurt in the end.”

Heart constricting, you look down. Jungkook is still healing, that much is obvious – with the way his father died, you are not surprised. It is difficult for him to trust and you wonder if it was the wrong move to wait for him to come to you. Initially, you thought you were giving him space but maybe not. Jungkook has already told you his feelings, after all. You have yet to say anything.

Stepping closer, your hands find his arms. Jungkook inhales, startled.

“I can’t make you trust me,” you whisper. Your words echo what he once said to you.

Jungkook does not respond. His gaze is hesitant, looking at you.

“I can tell you what I feel, though.” Heart beating erratically, it elicits a similar sensation to the champagne.

Slowly, he nods, waiting for you to continue.

“I petitioned my father for weeks to let me be the Venetun Ambassador,” you quietly admit. “He didn’t want me to be, at first.”

“No?” Jungkook seems confused. “Why not?”

“It’s funny.” Gently, you laugh and shake your head. “I asked him the same thing. I think everyone else knew I was falling in love before I did.”

Jungkook freezes in place.

“Hoseok, my father...” Giving a shrug, you trail off. “I didn’t know what I was feeling. I didn’t know what to do with these feelings, what to call them – but Jungkook.” You seek out his gaze. “I have not stopped thinking of you since I left. I… I have only ever felt this way before with the sea.”

“The sea?”

With a nod, you step closer. “I have only ever felt this,” you inhale, “longing for the ocean before.”

Gaze darkening, Jungkook stares when your body presses to his. He is so close, your entire body throbs from the pulse of his heart.

“Everything I learn makes me want to know more,” you whisper. “Your kindness, your sincerity, this mark on your cheek.” Finally, you brush the scar with your fingers. “Everything that you are – I want to know more.”

“And what if you find me lacking?” Jungkook’s lips hover over yours. There is such joy to his expression, your legs nearly buckle.

“Impossible,” you say, eyes shining. “I find the opposite more likely.”

Jungkook makes a dismissive sound. “As though,” he exhales, pushing hair behind your ear. “I could ever lose interest in you.”

His hand does not stop. Tentatively, Jungkook trails fingers down your throat, your collarbone and hesitates at your shoulder. Repressing a shiver, you stare brazenly back. Without stopping to think, your hand closes over his and tugs the garment aside.

Jungkook inhales at your exposed skin. As though hypnotized, he bends to brush a kiss to your body. A moan escapes you before you can stop it, clutching his arms to hold yourself up.

“Y/N.” He looks upwards, hunger to his gaze. “What do you want from me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Truthfully, you do not. You have not the words to describe what you want from him. All you know is you want more; you want him here and now, you do not want to wait.

Jungkook’s thumb brushes over your collarbone. “Is this…?” He hesitates, rethinking his words. “Have you ever…?”

Slowly, you shake your head no.

The idea of loving another is different for merfolk. Marriage is a relatively new concept, introduced through centuries of human interaction. Despite this, your kind has always been monogamous. You refer to the practice as mating, and it is not legally binding. Copulation is also different to your kind – there are theories amongst your people this is where human origin comes from.

Merfolk attain legs while standing above the water. It is in this form you procreate, and this is what merfolk do once they are mated. You have never felt the inclination to be mated and so, you have not tried.

Jungkook’s gaze becomes hesitant. “I don’t wish to do anything before you’re ready.”

“Then, only do as I tell you.”

His gaze darkens. “What would you have me do?”

Boldly, you lift your chin. “Kiss me, Jungkook.”

The request changes something between you. Insecurities banished, Jungkook’s hands slide to your face. He bends, brushing your lips with his and a fervor ignites, deep in your soul. The flames twist and dance, threatening to destroy if you do not give them more.

Feverishly, your lips open with his. Jungkook groans as your tongues slip together, bodies carefully distant until you take a step forward. Crushing yourself to his chest, Jungkook’s hand winds in your hair while the other slides to your back. You cannot breathe; there is no thought aside from this dizzying, drowning need for him.

Breaking away, you tug him along. Kisses softening, you press your lips against his until your knees hit the desk. Jungkook bends, grasping your thighs to hoist you onto the table. His right hand hooks your knee, pulling you forward as your bodies collide. Spread out against him, you can feel the entire tenuous length of his body.

Jungkook’s forehead presses to yours, right hand under your knee and his eyes mostly shut. Your hand slides up his neck, seeking his face. Gently, your thumb brushes his chin, his lips and the scar on his cheek.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter open. “What have you done to me?” His voice is ragged. “I have never… I am not in control around you.”

A smile creases your lips. “Whatever spell you speak of,” you say, stroking his cheek. “It has ensnared me, as well.”

Turning, Jungkook brushes a kiss to your thumb. “Tell me what else you want, Princess.”

“Undress me.”

His eyes widen. “I – are you certain?”

Jungkook sounds strained, as though holding himself back. You appreciate his concern; the clarity of his effort to give you what you want. You wish this to be pleasurable for him, too though. Gently, you move to press your lips against his.

Jungkook melts into the kiss, seeking further reassurance. His tongue turns hot and needy, tracing your own. “I,” he breathes, breaking away. “That is all very well, but Princess…” He pauses. “I cannot say I have been chaste with others before. This is different, though. This is…”

“More,” you finish quietly, threading your fingers in his hair. “I understand.”

Jungkook gives you a searching look. “It might hurt,” he says, softer. “I have heard that from others before.”

“I trust you,” you say, knowing the truth in the statement. Jungkook has your heart more than he might realize.

“And I, you.”

Leaning forward, he reignites the kiss in between you. Nose nudging yours, he parts your lips with his own. Sinking into the sensation, you allow his warmth to pull you under.

“Wait,” Jungkook pants, suddenly breaking away. “I – uh, what about protection?”

Heat singes your veins at the thought. “You don’t have to... worry about that,” you assure him.

Jungkook’s brows knit together. “I don’t?”

“You,” you flush. “You see… Yoongi gave me a few potions before I left. He said that I might have need…”

Trailing off, you wave lamely towards your dresser.

Jungkook’s lips press together, as though fearful of laughter. “Oh,” he murmurs, a darker gleam entering his eyes. Gripping your waist, he pulls you roughly against him. “Do you find a need for them now, Princess?”

Lips parting, your eyes widen at the press of his length to your core. Head floods the willing space between your thighs. Gaze darting lower, you seek out his manhood but see nothing but skirts and trousers.

Gaze snapping upwards, you frown. “Undress me,” you say.

Grasping your thighs, Jungkook lifts you off of the desk. “Not here,” he insists, wrapping your legs tightly around him. Walking across the cabin, he comes to a stop at your bed. “I wish,” he exhales, lowering one knee to your mattress, “I could have you in my bed. It seems awfully unfair for you to keep these memories to yourself.”

“Mm.” Letting go of his neck, you let him lower you to the sheets. “Perhaps one day.”

Jungkook hovers above you, one knee in between yours. “What do you mean?” he asks, curious.

“I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain.” His fingers reach underneath you, so you arch your back. “Not until I knew it was an option, at least.”

Finding your laces, Jungkook loosens these with deft pulls of his fingers. “Y/N.” Sitting back on his heels, Jungkook removes his crown and places this on the floor. “What option? What aren’t you certain of?”

He has stopped undressing you, which you find most inconvenient. “Well.” You prop yourself on both elbows. “I asked Yoongi to look into something for me. He is still learning his magic, you know – his father didn’t have a chance to teach him much. What he can and can’t do is uncertain and I asked him to… Well…”

“You asked him to do what?”

“I asked him if merfolk could transition to human on a more… permanent basis.”

Jungkook pauses, hardly daring to hope. “Is... such a thing even possible?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “There are stories, but I always assumed them to be just that – stories.”

“But if they are not…”

You stare back at him, unwilling to voice it aloud.

Jungkook’s expression changes. “I don’t want you to be anything you aren’t, Y/N.”

“I know,” you murmur. “I would still be me with fins or with legs, though. This way... at least we have options.”

He stares at you silently, at war with himself. If the possibility is not certain, it is hard to let himself hope. But if it is – lowering his head, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. The gesture contains all the intimacy of a promise. He hovers over you for a moment, not opening his eyes.

“Jungkook.”

He opens his eyes.

“Why am I still in this dress?”

His lips quirk; a humor quickly dispelled. “How rude,” Jungkook drawls, hands sliding beneath you. “In Paralian, those who question the King are punished.”

Rather than be a deterrent, the words send an ache to your core. You would like to be punished by him. “Are they?” you whisper, arching a brow. “This seems the very kind of thing I was sent here to stop.”

With a chuckle, Jungkook pushes himself to his knees. Grasping your ankles, his hands slowly slide up the hem of your skirt. With each inch of skin revealed, his gaze becomes focused. Candlelight illuminates the long length of your legs, crimson silk draped around them. Lowering his head, Jungkook presses a kiss to your knee.

Quietly, he inhales. “I have often imagined,” he says, gaze flicking upwards. “The taste of your body beneath me.”

You have no response – indeed, all words die in your throat.

Grasping your waist, he pulls you into a seated position. “Up,” Jungkook demands, lifting your arms overhead.

When you hold them in place, he tugs your dress off. The lace of your bustier remains, but the shape of your body is obvious, seated before him.

Without further ado, Jungkook lowers his lips to your jaw. From there, he trails kisses down the slope of your neck. Mouth brushing your breast, he admires the way you peak at his touch. Repeating the gesture, he glances up from your skin. Blowing gently over your nipple, he watches you harden. Slowly, Jungkook closes his lips over the peak.

Arching beneath him, you release a small gasp of pleasure. Jungkook’s hand cups your breast, keeping you still while he sucks over the lace. Depths, you have never experienced something like this before. His tongue swirls against you, making you clutch at the bed. Knees rising to cage his waist, you wantonly press your body to his.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan.

Head lifting, he smirks at your expression. Rather than stop, he merely switches to the other breast. All common sense drifts as an indescribable need takes over your body. Arching against him, the space between your thighs grows uncomfortably wet, despite you being on land.

Panting, Jungkook breaks from your breast. The lace of your bustier is obscenely damp from his sucking, licking and swirling. It makes your core ache, but he does not stop there. Hands stroking your body, Jungkook’s gaze travels towards the apex of your thighs.

“What else do you want from me?”

“Your shirt,” you say, grasping the material. “Take it off.”

His eyes glint but he obeys, sitting back on his heels to pull this overhead. Toned, tan muscles are revealed by the motion. Staring at him, you rub your legs slowly together. There is an unbearable friction which makes you ache to be filled.

Jungkook’s gaze drops to your thighs. “I want to see you,” he confesses. “All of you.”

Nodding, you begin to undo the buttons and laces. Paralian women certainly take pride in making things as difficult as possible. When he grows impatient, Jungkook joins you to help. His fingers rip at the lace, making you laugh as more skin is revealed. Well, if he has no respect for the garment, neither do you.

When the bodice is shoved from your shoulders, Jungkook can only stare. His touch becomes gentler, spanning your waist and stroking your thighs. Tugging the bodice from your legs, he leaves you naked beneath him, but for the sea air.

“Sails,” Jungkook whispers, staring at you. Gaze darting upwards, he seeks out your own. “May I kiss you, Y/N? I promise it will feel good.”

Roughly, you nod.

Inhaling, he lowers himself to his front. Turning his head, Jungkook presses a lone kiss to your knee. Moving higher, he drifts towards the source of your tension. At the apex of your thighs, he hovers before pushing your legs apart. Watching him do this, your heartbeat quickens.

When he looks up, his gaze is dark and hungry. Slowly, Jungkook drags a finger up your slick center. The digit comes away wet and, while you watch, he places this on the tip of his tongue. Jungkook sucks, keeping his gaze firmly on yours.

“Oh,” you breathe, uncertain why you like this so much.

He smiles, unrepentant and lowers himself further. He starts off slow, placing soft kisses along the edge of your folds. His lips move up and down, getting you used to the warmth of his mouth. When you relax, Jungkook adds the flick of his tongue. Short, teasing bursts while he eases you forward.

When his tongue sweeps higher, over a forbidden place, you jolt from the pleasure. Jungkook halts, glancing up from your thighs. “Did that feel good?” he asks, sounding strained.

His lips are wet with arousal and while you watch, his tongue darts sideways to lick up his mess. Groaning, you spread your legs wider. “Please,” you beg, not caring how you sound. “I need more.”

With a smirk, Jungkook lowers his head. Now, he does not tease. Now, he buries himself closer to seek out your pleasure. His tongue moves roughly against you, tracing circles to draw moans from your lips. It soon becomes too much, body shaking beneath him. Everything feels heightened, on edge and spiraling out of control.

Jungkook slows in response, pressing soft kisses against the mound of your sex. When you cry out, you have no idea what you need, but Jungkook reads your body and responds to the motion. When he has you limp, begging beneath him, his fingers trail down to your sex. Sucking hard on your mound, he sides a finger inside you, forcing you apart at the seams.

This is what it feels like – a shuddering wave of pleasure which drags you under. Your vision pulses, darkening as you arch on the bed. Jungkook guides you though it, kissing and licking as you come down from your high.

Grasping the sheets tight in both hands, you open your eyes. The ceiling above you is the same and yet, everything is different. Your body feels loose and tight at the same time, unbearably sensitive. Jungkook drops a kiss to your thigh and looks upwards.

“Did you like it?” he murmurs.

“I – depths,” you swear, still catching your breath.

He smiles, eyes crinkling adorably. Pushing himself upwards, Jungkook hovers over your body. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, lips brushing your cheek.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Some women don’t like –”

Bringing his lips to yours, you silence his question. He tastes different, salty but you like it, tongue hesitantly brushing his lips. Jungkook kisses you eagerly, lips molding to yours – which is when you feel his length, hard against your thigh.

Pulling away, you glance down. Jungkook still is wearing his trousers but even so, you see evidence of his arousal. Your body still feels pleasantly buzzed, but you find your need far from being satisfied. Somehow, it feels worse. To have had Jungkook’s mouth, his finger inside you – you cannot stop wondering what else there is.

Slowly, your gaze lifts to his. “Take off your pants.”

Jungkook’s brows rise. “But… we just…”

“Jungkook.” Lacing his fingers with yours, you bring both your hands to rest between your thighs. His eyes turn glassy at the mess he just made. “I want you – all of you.”

Instantly, Jungkook pushes himself back on the bed. Stripping himself of his trousers, they join your dress and his crown on the floor. When he is fully naked, you prop yourself on your elbows to drink him in. Jungkook’s cheeks flush; lips wet from your body, dark hair falling into his gaze.

Between his legs is his cock. It looks just as it felt, pressed against your thigh – thick, veined and hard to the touch. Reaching out a hand, you brush your thumb over the tip.

Jungkook shudders, catching your hand in his. “Unless,” he pants, clenching his jaw. “You wish me to come undone right now, I would advise not doing that.”

Staring at him in amazement, you realize how badly he wants you. Jungkook grips himself with one veiny hand, squeezing his length as a bit more pre-cum seeps out.

“Clearly,” he murmurs, “you see how much I want you. It’s more than that, though.” Shifting, Jungkook presses his body to yours. He inhales deeply, feeling your skin against his. “My feelings haven’t changed, Y/N. When I’m with you, I feel –”

“Complete,” you echo, brushing your lips with his. “Jungkook. I want you like this.”

Nodding, he kisses you slower. Hand parting your thighs, he savors the mess he just made. “You’re so wet,” he moans, sighing in satisfaction.

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Mm. Very good,” he says, sinking a finger inside you.

Gasping, you grip his arms tighter. It feels tight but good, your body clenched around his. Jungkook stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust. When he moves, he goes slow, curling his finger inside you. When you moan out his name, he adds another finger.

The second one hurts a bit more. Jungkook seems concerned, but you shake your head and urge him to continue. He obeys and before long, it feels just as good as the first finger. Even better – arching satisfactorily, your hunger only deepens.

“More,” you say, head thrown back on the pillow.

Lowering his head, Jungkook kisses your throat. When he does, he slides in a third finger. You groan, clenching hard around him as he pants. “You’re so tight, Y/N. I – sails, I don’t think you know what you’re doing to me.”

“I can see what it’s doing to you,” you say, wickedly glancing at his cock.

Jungkook’s length twitches, harder than before. He smirks, gently rubbing your clit with his thumb. As you adjust to the feeling, his fingers sink further inside you. When you groan, Jungkook begins scissoring your walls.

Grasping his arms, you roll your hips slowly against him. “Jungkook,” you whine, unable to take any more.

“Yes?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please, I need you inside me.”

When he withdraws, you protest but already, Jungkook aligns his cock at your center. Mouth drying, you stare at the thickness of his length. You thought three fingers would be enough to prepare you but now, you are not certain.

Jungkook presses a kiss to your shoulder and you slowly relax. He will take care of you – you know this. Resting his tip at your center, Jungkook rolls your clit with nimble fingers. When you mewl, arching against him, he slips in an inch.

This is enough for you to gasp, eyes watering from the stretch. “Oh,” you blurt, burying your face in his chest.

“We can stop,” Jungkook pants, beginning to withdraw.

Frantically, your hands move to clutch him in place. “No,” you say, looking up. “Keep going.”

Seeing your determined expression, Jungkook slowly nods. He continues to play with your clit, making you moan as he pushes another inch in.

“Oh,” you groan, arching against him. You feel split, torn by the sensation but it is not unbearable. Indeed, there is an odd mix of pleasure from the wetness you feel.

His fingers continue to play with your sex, making you moan as he slips further in.

“Almost there,” Jungkook murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Halfway and already,” he whispers, hot in your ear, “you’re the tightest, wettest thing I’ve ever had wrapped around my cock.”

His words make your lips part in a daze. It sounds obscene, coming from such lovely lips but you find you want more. Hands sliding into his hair, you open your legs further and Jungkook groans, sinking in. It burns, but less so than before. There is this deep, throbbing need to have him fill you entirely.

“That’s it,” he groans, rubbing your clit. His cock pulses, hot and needy inside you. “Just a little bit more, Y/N. You’re doing so well.”

Hearing his praises, you arch a bit further. Jungkook thrusts deeper with a grunt and you gasp, feeling a last wave of pain. It makes you see stars and you wonder if the dampness between your legs is more than only arousal. Already, it fades from the press of his lips to your skin.

“There,” Jungkook croons, lips tracing your jaw. “That’s it, Y/N. That’s all.”

Clasping him tightly, you slowly adjust to the feeling. His cock is so large, buried in you to the hilt. You have never felt a fullness like this before. Jungkook continues to touch you, tracing your waist, your chest and whispering how lovely you are. Preening at his words, you arch and feel him slip deeper inside.

“Oh!” you blurt in surprise.

“Y/N?” Worried, Jungkook’s gaze snaps to yours. “Are you alright? Does it hurt? I can –”

Grasping his chin, you bring his gaze to yours. “I – do that again,” you say, breathless.

Jungkook’s gaze darkens. Slowly, he withdraws and pushes deeper inside.

“O-oh,” you groan, legs shaking beneath him.

Your body is sore, perhaps a bit overstretched but all this is overshadowed by the thrust of his cock. Seeing the change in your expression, Jungkook pulls back a bit further. Slowly, he aligns and sinks into your center. A low, needy whine is pulled from your lips.

“Harder,” you gasp, clutching his body.

Gaze darkening, he nods. Withdrawing gently, he snaps his hips forward. It feels so good to have him move deep inside you. Jungkook thrusts again, rougher as tension mounts in your body. The sensation is different than before, with his tongue on your clit.

Now, his entire body moves against yours. Now he is fully inside you, urging you to come. His arms gather you close, hooking an ankle over his ass to grind into you deeper. Jungkook thrusts harder, faster and you begin to see stars.

“Jungkook,” you groan, biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans.

“No.” He thrusts harder. “I want to hear you. Want to hear how you feel, what you want.”

“I want more,” you gasp as he fills you. “Want you harder, Jungkook. Deeper – oh! Oh!”

His name leaves your lips, louder as he fucks into you harder. You are aware the walls of the ship are thin; you should really be quieter, but cannot seem to care. Let them hear. Let them know how badly you want him, how badly he wants you.

Slowing down, Jungkook thrusts into you deeper. His hips roll as he enters, making you feel his whole length. You gasp underneath him, groaning his name when your hips rise to meet him.

“I want you to come like this,” he whispers against your lips. Rolling his hips slowly against you, he makes your toes curl. “Want you to come, soft and moaning. You can scream my name another night.”

“Another night?” you moan, gripping his waist with your thighs.

Nodding, Jungkook presses his lips against yours. His fingers interlace with your own, hips continuing their relentless motion against you. Each time he withdraws, you whimper and each time he enters, you moan. Rolling his hips, Jungkook grinds himself against your clit.

“Mm, another night,” he agrees in between kisses. “Every night. C-come for me, Y/N.”

Hearing how close he sounds, you do not think you could stop if you tried. Clasping him tightly, you fall over the edge. With his name on your lips, you shudder apart underneath him. Jungkook swears, feeling you clench and finally, he lets go. You feel him release, warm cum filling your body with thrust after thrust.

When he is finished, Jungkook half-collapses against you. His lips drag over your skin, messy as he slowly pulls out. Glancing around, he spots a towel on your bedside and reaches to grab it.

“What are you doing?” You blink, shutting your legs on his hand.

Jungkook’s lips quirk at your response. “Cleaning,” he says, gently wiping your body. “The, uh – well, my… I don’t want to make a mess of your sheets.”

Realizing the meaning, your cheeks heat as you open your legs. Jungkook is fast, cleaning himself and lowering the rag to the ground. When he is finished, he resumes looking at you.

“What are you looking at?” you whisper, feeling oddly exposed.

Smiling, Jungkook bends to brush his lips against yours. He lingers and your arms slowly rise, circling his neck and pulling him down. Jungkook’s legs entwine with yours, kissing you gently until he breaks away, breathless.

“What I was thinking…” Pausing, he wraps your fingers in his. “Is that I want this every night.”

“This?” you ask, arching a brow.

Chuckling, Jungkook traces your arm with a finger. He cannot seem to look away, mapping your skin with his gaze. “Well, yes, that. But also, you. In my bed.”

He shuts his mouth and you sense there is more to the sentence but for now, that will do. Lifting your hand, Jungkook slowly kisses each one of your fingers. He lingers on your ring finger, lifting his gaze and, although your heartbeat quickens, he moves on to your pinky.

Lowering your hands, Jungkook interlaces the fingers.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whisper, pressing closer.

He nods, a sleepy smile on his lips. “However long you want me, I’ll stay.”

© kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Paralian character ask game found here

[fallenjedii]

unforgettable ;  ii of iii.

word count ;  2153. warnings ;  blood mention.

previous chapter | next chapter

  it's been lonely, cal thinks. normally you'd be beside him, pointing out all the new things you've seen and how gorgeous everything was. you'd be smiling at him, keeping him company while he explored the tombs he was visiting. you'd help him find new paths when he was lost, help him rethink a puzzle if he was stuck. it's been so quiet.

  "fwoo-woo?"

  cal looks to his latest companion, bd-1. a little droid he met on bogano after bracca. he remembers seeing your face, the tears streaming from your eyes as he was dragged onto the mantis by cere. when you collapsed to the ground you were eerily still.

  "...just thinking about them, buddy." cal sighs. bd-1 knew about you, cal's main way of coping was telling stories about you to the droid. how you found him after the purge, how you two shared the same bed until you both grew too big. how you calmed him down, how you made the nightmares go away. the nightmares ran rampant now, seeing you die over and over again. bd trills sadly, nudging cal to try and bring him some comfort. cal pats the top of his head, silently thanking him.

  "cal? can you hear me?" cere's voice crackles in, quickly pulling cal from his thoughts.

  "yeah, i'm here. what's up?"

  "just wanted to check in. have you found anything?" cere has been keeping a close eye on cal, noticing how broken he was after your death. it worried her, a motherly instinct taking over. cal didn't really speak much, but she's been around him long enough to pick up cues.

  "...thanks. i found a carving of a wroshyr tree in this tomb, the log cordova left said its a tree native to kashyyyk." his fingers graze against the carving, its feels cool to the touch.

  "then we'll head there. come on back when you're ready."

---

  you felt so cold. you kept cal's face on your mind, wanting to feel some kind of warmth before you die. you can barely keep your eyes open, your eyelids felt so heavy. whenever you felt yourself slip, you forced them open. you try to stand, but the pain in your abdomen is agonizing. you scream out, laying back down. you wish you could have at least said goodbye.

  "hey, hey you!"

  you think you're hearing things, not bothering to move. no one could be here, right? someone's face comes into view, you squint your eyes to make sure what you're seeing is real.

  "hey, come on, talk to me!" her voice is softer, kneeling down beside you. you gasp, unable to form words. she realizes your critical condition, seeing your wound. "maker, that's bad. but we're gonna help you, okay?" her voice is calm and reassuring, she's seen too many scenarios like this. more partisans come to aid, one of them picking you up and carrying your weak body to their ship. it's there where they patch you up. you're weak for several weeks, but you survive. you join the cause. you have someone to protect.

---

  cal makes a grand entrance on kashyyyk, hijacking an AT-AT and using it to shoot down imperials. once it crashes, he and bd-1 emerge from the wreckage. bd is hopping around excited, beeping uncontrollably.

  "no, we're definitely not doing that again." cal chuckles, looking over and seeing the mantis land. he walks over to the ship, cere and greez exiting. there's fire, smoke, and injured fighters. it feels like a war zone. cal talks to saw gerrera, the commander of the partisans. while talking to him, something catches the corner of his eye.

  he sees someone who painfully reminds him of you. they're holding a blaster, standing with a group of partisans chatting. his heart aches, looking away to prevent the memories flooding in. it's when he hears them laugh, he fully looks in their direction. it's you. it's really you. your smile is broken, weak. your laugh sounds the same, but empty. there's a bandage wrapped around your abdomen, further confirming his suspicion.

  "y/n..?" cal's voice is soft, completely forgetting about saw. saw looks confused, turning to see who he's looking at. he then turns to cere, who motions for him to follow her.

  "take a walk with me." the two wander off, while cal slowly makes his way toward you. he calls your name a little louder, picking up the pace. bd quickly follows and joins cal on his shoulder, excited to see the person cal always talked about.

  "Y/N!" this time he shouts, now running toward you. you turn, hearing your name. you see the redheaded jedi. tears quickly begin to swell as you drop your blaster to the ground and sprint toward him.

  "CAL!"

  the two of you quickly meet up, instantly embracing each other. cal wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your neck. his breathing is shallow, tears freely flowing. you don't hold back your tears, clinging to him for dear life. you stay like that for what seems like hours, cal finally moving his face from your neck. he cups your face, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. he's smiling, genuinely. you run your fingers through his hair, you're having a hard time believing it's real.

  "y/n... i watched you die..." cal's voice is soft, cracking from overwhelming emotions. you shake your head.

  "i was alive, barely. some partisans found me and took me in, patched me up. they let me join them, i knew i had to try and protect you, even from afar." you brush your fingers against his cheek, cal hastily leaning into your touch. his feelings for you never faded, in fact, they only grew stronger from suffering your loss. he regretted not saying anything sooner.

  your foreheads rest against each other, staring into each other's eyes. cal looks down to your lips, then back at your eyes. he leans closer, eyes closing. you close your own, feeling his lips brush against yours--

  "BEEP WOO!!" bd screams, embarrassed. the two of you pull apart quickly, cal coughing awkwardly into his hand.

  "right-- bd, meet y/n. y/n, bd." cal introduces you to the droid, who's already making his way to rest on your shoulder. bd looks you over, then to cal. a series of flirtatious beeps follow, turning your face red.

  "thank you, bd. but i don't think i'm all that good looking." you chuckle, bd returning to cal. cal smiles soft, eyes never leaving your frame.

  "he's right, though. you are beautiful."

  this causes your face to flush further, smiling softly.

  "not so bad yourself there, jedi."

  before cal can reply, saw calls everyone for a debriefing. he explains the plan and the goal, assigning cal to find the wookiees and free them. you quickly volunteer to go with him, causing a chuckle from the other partisans. saw sighs, knowing you had a great track record so far. he can't say no, especially after cere explained to him that you and cal were separated several months ago-- thinking you were dead. he allows it, but reminds the two of you to stay on track with the mission.

  everyone splits up, you and cal wind your way through the imperial base. on the way, cal explains to you what he's been up to. the holocron, the zeffo, everything. you smile.

  "i always knew you were meant for something greater. i knew since the moment we met." you reminisce about your lives together on bracca, mourning prauf who had sacrificed himself for the two of you.

  "...it felt empty without you, you know. i meant it when i said i wanted you with me. i still do." cal's voice is soft, trying hard to properly express his feelings. after bracca, he felt his emotions shut down. after meeting bd, they were slowly coming back. now he feels so much, it's overwhelming. his eyes look at your bandage.

  "...it's mainly used as a brace. the wound has healed, cal. it doesn't hurt much anymore." you try to reassure him. his hand ghosts over where the wound would be, his face full of concern. "hey, look at me." you gently lift his chin to look at you, cupping his cheek. "i'm here. i'm alive. you found me." you reassure him, his eyes drifting closed. he thought he'd never feel your touch again, now starving for it. his hands tremble softly, resting on your hips. he's trying to resist the urge to place his hands all over you, something he's wanted to do for a long time.

  the two of you grow closer, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls your closer to him by your waist. the tension between you two is thick, especially now that reciprocated feelings are out in the open. you sigh, pulling yourself away. cal looks confused.

  "mission first. we'll talk more later." you say reluctantly, but grab for his hand. he nods in agreement, holding your hand tightly in his. the two of you walk in peaceful silence until you hear voices of stormtroopers. there's a particular one that stands out to cal, causing him to groan.

  "why are they here..?" he sighs, readying his lightsaber.

  "who?" you ask. he motions for you to look. you peak to see a trooper dressed in all black, wielding a purple electrostaff. "what kind of soldier is that?"

  "purge trooper. to purge any jedi." he explains, going in. you follow closely behind with your blaster.

  "take care of that one, i've got the stormtroopers!" you shout, cal nodding. their fight lasts longer than normal, but the purge trooper is still no match for him. the stormtroopers didn't stand a chance against you. cal smirks, impressed with your marksmanship.

  the two of you infiltrate the base, quickly making your way to the cells the wookiees were held in. cal heads to the panel, working to unlock them while you watched for enemies.

  "shit, incoming!" you call out, spotting a security droid. cal is ready to help, but you stop him. "keep working on that, i've got this!"

  cal reluctantly listens, watching occasionally from the corner of his eye. you dodge the droid, then shoot at any openings. this repeats until the droid notices your pattern. before you can shoot again, the droid punches you in the abdomen, right where you were stabbed.

  "AH!" you cry out, holding your now open wound. you can feel the warm, red liquid soak your shirt. cal snaps his head towards you, seeing you clutching your now bleeding wound. this is enough for him to stop, quickly disposing of the droid. he runs to you, panicking. bd shoots out a stim, cal catches it and stabs it next to your injury. you take some deep breaths, thanking him quietly. "get those wookiees out, then let's get back to base."

  once the cells are open, the wookiees quickly file out. cal is much more concerned for you, terrified of losing you again. with his help you stand, your arm over his shoulder while he holds you up by your waist. he helps you walk out, where mari sees you.

  "y/n! are you alright?" she asks, seeing the blood. you nod, groaning soft.

  "nothing the medic can't fix." you reassure, then looking to cal. "cal, this is mari. she's the one that found me on bracca. she's a good friend of mine, and might know where chieftain tarfful is hiding."

  "thank you. for saving them." cal thanks her, his voice leaking with sincerity. she smiles, nodding.

  "y/n is an excellent partisan. one of our best. you mentioned tarfful?"

  on the way back, the three of you walk together and talk about tarfful's whereabouts. mari promises to try and get cal into contact with him. cal gets you to a medic, who scolds you for reopening your wound again after it had just healed.

  "if you're not more careful, it'll get infected. then you'll be in a whole new galaxy of hurt." he warns, rewrapping your wound and handing you a clean shirt.

  "thanks, blane."

  cal helps you up once more, worried about your condition.

  "you told me it healed." he questions.

  "it did. but it reopened a week ago. the punch from that security droid must have opened it again. blane said it wasn't as bad though, so it'll heal quicker. probably within the next few days." you explain, cal watching you closely. he sighs.

  "y/n... i just got you back. please be more cautious, i'm begging you." he pleads, holding your hands in his. you nod, squeezing his hands.

  "of course. anything for you, star boy." you smile. he returns it, gently holding you in his arms. you rest your head against his shoulder, arms lazily wrapping around his waist. the two of you were reunited, willing to cause a riot to stay together this time.