#iron man mark xxx

[it-seemo]

@yamcans00's Skulltober Day 14 - "XXX"

<- Day 13 | Day 14 | Day 15 ->

Bit of context below the cut:

So there's some fun irony in how the Silver Centurion made its jump to the MCU.

It debuted as the Model 8 in 1985 in the comics, where it was originally supposed to be for Rhodey, but Stark took the armor for himself instead to throw down with Obadiah Stane and his Iron Monger armor.

In 2013's Iron Man 3, the armor made its first - and only - appearance in the MCU, under the new designation of Mark XXXIII (33). However, once supplementary material for the movie came out, it revealed the existence of another suit that predates the Silver Centurion despite never appearing in the movie or even in the tie-in mobile game.

Mark XXX (30), codenamed "Blue Steel," and basically an earlier model of the Silver Centurion, as it has slightly inferior versions of all of the Silver Centurion's features. It even shares an identical design save for the color scheme, which I was able to replicate as a custom set of textures for this render.

[rebornologist]

😺 and 👄 for Xanxus please! 💜💜💜💜💜

♡ nsf/w Xanxus Headcanons ✧

18+ utc, thoughts on how Xanxus makes out.. and eats out ;-)

Xanxus is not opposed to making out, but definitely prefers either his or your mouth elsewhere. When he does, he’s rough and intense and tests the strength of your lungs every time with his sheer greediness. Xanxus is the type to cradle the back of your neck as he cranes over you and presses you down with his everything. He’s a whole ~6’4 of man and will trap you between him and the nearest hard surface and leave marks and bruises all over with every make out sesh. When you feel your neck aching from being bent back and lungs heaving from the way he relentlessly pries your lips apart with his tongue, you press your palms, nails, or even fists against his chest to push him away. He’d only scoff, the slight shadow of a smirk dancing across his lips as he delves into any other piece of exposed skin— nipping at your neck and shoulders, teeth grazing your collarbones as he litters your skin with marks.

He’s a weird control freak, and a lazy one at that. He always expects partners to be obedient and malleable to his every whim. You wouldn’t count on him being really into giving oral sex, but he appreciates the control aspect of it. He definitely prefers to have his face sat on, with an iron grip on the soft and wetted thighs he’s situated between. His hands are calloused and blunt nails scrape against the outside of your thighs as you squirm over him. It riles him up to no end when his partner gets super needy on top of him, rutting their hips against his nose (oh and he has a good nose that’s sculpted by the gods and you know what to do with a good nose :) and squirming and covering the whole bottom half of his face in wetness.

If you wiggle a little too much, expect to feel blunt nails digging into your soft flesh, and bruising to show the morning after. He’d also give partners a disciplining spank or two if they don’t do as he says. He wants to hear every strangled whimper and moan that he’s pulling from you, as it feeds endlessly into his ego. He’s very likely to edge you right till your orgasm is about to crash over you, and roughly push you off of him so he can slide his aching cock in. There have been times when you immediately came as he did that, involuntarily clenching and gushing around his dick as he starts fucking you. That’s when you knew that no one could do it like him.

I'm not proofing this or even rereading it bc it's finals week enjoy sexies xxx

[ironman-tonystark]

What are your favorite and least favorite iron man suits? I have my favorites: Mark I, Mark VII, Mark LXXXV and honestly I dont have a least favorite. Your suits are always improving and changing for the better.

Thank you. I am a fan of most of them. I wish I still had I. It saved my life. Otherwise, I tend to like the newest ones. So LXXXV is the one I'm using now. XXX is pretty cool.

My least favorite is XVI. That thing when all Fatal Attraction on me.

[themculibrary]

Smut - Barebacking Masterlist

Bespoke (ao3) - thyrza steve/tony E, 2k

Summary: Steve likes it when Tony leaves the suit on.

No, not *that* suit.

(Shameless PWP. Sorry not sorry.)

Collar Full of Chemistry (ao3) - 2bestfriends steve/bucky E, 188k

Summary: Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.

Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

—

AKA a fantasy BDSM romance featuring heavy mutual pining, feelings denial, and enough kink to blackout a bingo card. We know what we're about, son.

Coming In Hot (Ao3) -fandomfluffandfuck steve/bucky E, 45k

Summary: Once Steve and Bucky take the jump in their relationship to go without condoms the super-soldier serum slowly gets spread to Bucky through Steve's semen. Which causes plenty of questions to arise: when do Bucky's "symptoms" start to show?, how long does it take Steve and Bucky to catch on?, and once they do understand what is happening... will getting a second-hand dose of the serum stop Bucky from taking Steve bare? Or will it only lead to more?

even when you lie, even when you hide (you mean everything to me) (ao3) - AceofWands bucky/steve/tony, pepper/tony E, 30k

Summary: All these years he’d wondered, that little childish part of him that loved his mother’s stories, what his soulmate was going to be like. Even as his father made sure he knew there were more important things he had to accomplish, told him over and over that he’d be better off without a soulmate at all – to the point where Tony had wondered if maybe he’d be one of those people whose soulmate had died young - he’d secretly hoped and wondered if he’d be one of the lucky ones.

And now he knew.

His father had been right all along.

Tony had two soulmates, who already knew each other.

He decided then and there that he was never, ever going to tell them he existed.

And then he woke up in a cave in Afghanistan.

G.I. Joes and 2AM Diners (ao3) - OhCaptainMyCaptain steve/bucky E, 100k

Summary: They look nothing like what they used to. Time and life have completely changed them. But as they sit there in silence, eating two halves of one cupcake, letting Brooklyn remind there where they came from, and enjoying a sky full of stars… They are those same little boys, somewhere deep down. For just a second, you’d be able to see them again.

And Bucky thinks to himself that maybe it’s little moments like these – fleeting as they may be – that remind him why life is still worth living.

Good Things to Those Who Wait (ao3) - Annie D (scaramouche) steve/tony E, 10k

Summary: Tony assumed that after he and Steve got together, his heats would be more fun. He’s right, but he’s also wrong.

Kiss Me Thru The Phone (ao3) - 27dragons, tisfan bucky/tony E, 7k

Summary: Trolling Steve seems like a good idea, right up until Bucky's really, really into the pretend phone sex...

But... seems like maybe Tony's into it, too...

love the sin, love the sinner (ao3) - silkspectred steve/tony E, 10k

Summary: It keeps happening. Not often, just once or twice a month, but it keeps happening. Always in the same way: it’s unplanned, sudden, unexpected, Steve is surprised and eager, his dick goes from zero to one hundred in two seconds, Tony’s touch is electric, everything he does drives Steve crazy, but he never lets Steve kiss him, he very rarely looks Steve in the eye, he never talks, never makes a sound when he comes, never mentions it later.

Mark XXX (ao3) - Robin_tCJ steve/tony/iron man (armor), iron man (armor)/steve E, 4k

Summary: Oh, look, another filthy, filthy threesome porn. This time, it's Steve/Tony/Iron Man Armour. No plot, mostly porn with a little bit of cracky humour. It's dirty, and I'm sorry.

No I'm not. I'm not sorry. You know what, you're all down here in the muck with me.

No Because, No Reason, No Explanation, No Solutions (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 93k

Summary: He let his hands rest, warmly, on Steve’s shoulders, against his neck. “I just want you to fuck me, soldier,” he managed to get out, breathy. “I want you to fuck me, yes, in my ass, and not stop. Again and again, until it’s out of your system.”

Steve and Tony and a marathon sex encounter. That's it, that's the fic.

Permissible Philandering (ao3) - Del_Rion steve/tony/thor E, 9k

Summary: Tony originally wanted to ask Jane what she was using his AI for, restricting a feed coming from one of the Tower’s rooms. Getting his answer led to something else entirely – including a bedroom and two of his fellow Avengers whom he hadn’t assumed were quite so forward when it came to sex.

Seeing Stars (ao3) - BlossomsintheMist steve/tony E, 12k

Summary: “I want you to ride me,” Steve said, his hand closing around his dick. He slid it up slow, pushing his foreskin up before circling his palm over the head, pulling it back down so that Tony got a view of his sweet, leaking tip, the copious precome welling up and spilling over.

Tony gives Steve a ride (and a few more things).

Sprinkles (ao3) - The_Nerd_Alert steve/bucky E, 225k

Summary: When people asked him 'So Mr. Rogers… what is it you do for a living?', they expected some epic answer; something heroic and demanding, and completely fitting this Herculean supermodel standing before them. That was not the answer they got. Instead, Steve would just give them a knowing look. Steve would laugh. Steve would always answer with a huge smile, ready to take them all by surprise. What was his answer?

'I bake cupcakes for a living.'

Steve Rogers owns the best Cupcakery in Brooklyn. The garage that just opened across the street, however, may be driving business away with its seemingly dirty and rough-around-the-edges staff. Add in the stress of planning a wedding with his fiancée Sharon, plus a high-strung finance manager, and Steve was a nervous wreck. But when the drop-dead gorgeous mechanic with a sleeve full of tattoos and long brown hair comes into his shop one day with a nervous smile and two dollars in his pocket, Steve doesn't think anything could really come of this chance meeting. It's just harmless flirting. Right?

Boy was he wrong...

Two Heroes and a Box (ao3) - Anonymous steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: Tony wakes up with a headache and an uncomfortable sweat sticking to his shirt and hair. He blinks a few times to push away the fuzziness of sleep and slowly comes to the realization that he's been kidnapped. Again.

Hooray.

Also, there's another body about twice his size and weight pushing against his front and taking up most of his personal space.

We have not touched the stars (ao3) - sangha steve/bucky E, 21k

Summary: Steve is still adjusting to life in the 21st century. His life nowadays is mostly lonely. Though he appreciates her good intentions, he always rebuffs Natasha's efforts to set him up on a date; he simply isn't interested in pursuing anything romantic.

At least, until Steve gets drunk on Asgardian liquor and a ridiculously handsome stranger at the bar catches his eye.

Wrap It Up (I'll Take It) (ao3) - 51stCenturyFox steve/tony M, 2k

Summary: Smart billionaires were almost required to be eccentric. So Tony Stark didn’t like to be handed things and he didn’t swap intimate fluids. At least he wasn’t scrubbing the labels off of canned goods or wearing Kleenex boxes for slippers like Howard Hughes.

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You The Main Man Who Calls The Shots In The Fast & Furious Saga 🏎

Born On July 18th, 1967

He is an American actor and film producer. One of the world's highest-grossing actors, he is best known for playing Dominic Toretto in the Fast & Furious franchise.

He began his career in 1990, but faced difficulty achieving recognition until he wrote, directed and starred in the short film Multi-Facial (1995) and his debut feature Strays (1997); the films prompted Steven Spielberg to cast Him in the war epic Saving Private Ryan (1998). He subsequently voiced the titular character in The Iron Giant (1999) and then gained a reputation as an action star after headlining the Fast & Furious, XXX, and The Chronicles of Riddick franchises.

Please Wish This Action Packed Action Star Actor Of Fast & Furious Cinema 🎥 Action 🎬

You Know Him

& You Gotta Love Him. Because He's Family

The 1

&

Only

MR. MARK SINCLAIR AKA MR. VIN DIESEL 🏎

AKA DOMINIC TORETTO OF THE FAST & FURIOUS SAGA  🏎 #VinDiesel #DominicToretto  #FastandFuriousSaga

[sophisticato]

time cop virtuosity beerfest The Thomas crown affair

bedazzeled 1970s madeline lassie it takes two loly madonna xxx mystery men breakn' the faculty

talk radio broadway danny rose after the sunset radio days perfect 1985

selena frida my stepmother is an alien the ladies club popeye doyle the dirty dozen An American Tail: The Treasure of Manhattan Island the loved one always 1989 loose cannons the bucket list kellys heros time bandit

carnival night star 80 black sheep the firm the last tycoon dr strangelove the godson

lassie lassie

the biggest secret children of the matrix …and the truth shall set you free

21 grams perfect 1985 missing in action the adventures of mark twain fern gully the legend of beggar vance bad boys for life halloween H20 bandidas willy/milly the secret of my sucsess the secret life of bees fools rush in bob the butler i am sam princess mononoki babar the movie our man flint in like flint dead on target (vancouver) cloudy with a chance of meatballs the dear hunter broken arrow urban menace

knights of the city thats my boy the seventh floor p.u.n.k.s out cold 1989 parents 1989 foxes 1980 pet cemetary bloodlines the bench warmers deadfall 1969 the rookie 1990 firestarter million doller baby slam dance along came polly Frank McKlusky, C.I. the hudsucker proxy the ballad of lefty brown the toy white boyz cloudy with a chance of meatballs you got served stomp the yard wonderboys the cider house rules the devine secrets of the yaya sisterhood somethings gotta give candy 2006 feild of dreams miss doubtfire notting hill wag the dog the nanny the lady from shanghai deep water bolt girl 6 flesh gordon moonstruck the great gatsby 1974 chronicles of narnia the hand that rocks the cradel running wild the moderns strange invaders hot rod wild at heart bones urban menace the outsiders the perfect storm once apon a time in america

the mystery of the night monster

d.c cab the guilty 2000 Boricua's Bond the player The Stars Fell on Henrietta in the line of fire big mommas house are we there yet a simple twist of fate revenge 1990 cool hand luke mermaids shadow of a doubt

The Chronicles Of Narnia deep water 1981 the bench warmers how to marry a miilionaire goin coconuts stakeout searching for bobby fisher before sunrise teen wolf moonfall

supercell comic book villians jumping jack flash pushing tin senior trip the hand that rocks the cradle the international americas sweethearts stella the tradgedy of macbeth summer rental hidden strike the dark tower 2017 never been kissed the contender Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead what happens in vegas true romance almost an angel in the soup for the love of the game chicago cab postcards from the edge The rookie tough guys 1986 spaceballs lockout playing god tresspass forget paris ripped 2017 the very excellent dundee beerfest the eternals bullit train bagboy swing kids cop and a half dominick and eugene set it off fools rush in reality bites the color purple iron eagle the contender trancers 2,3 where the red fern grows dave matthews philidelphia peter pan terri the escape chimes at midnight paper dragons

dressed to kill cabaret 1972 party monster prettylittle liars moulan rouge hedwig and the angry inch ziggy star dust movie

rocky horror picture show pippy long stocking sleeping with the enemy soroity boys

amadeus orlando hamlet much adu about nothing

this boys life The Favour, the Watch and the Very Big Fish harley quinn birds of pray bedknobs and broomsticks the bird cage ticker zoolander girl 6 the keeper kinky boots 2005 hardcore henry the eternals eddie murphy delerious seven days in may a street car named desire (project/critic rev.) the equalizer 2

harry and tonto playing by heart the point! how to make an american quilt

The Godfather trilogy carlitos way deal endgame

Indiana jones 5 Stacey keats, micheal keaton, robert redford, national lampoons, faulty towers, brittany murphy, demi moore, neive cambell

the end is nye avatar the last airbender afro samurai

[xradiant]

His hand tightens at his side as he listened to what Tristan offered. The very idea of tossing away his vengeance felt heavier than the most painful of burdens. He really didn't want to take away his anger, his grudges, the iron fist that he was eager to pound down on the man before him and on Aurora as well. After everything that they had done how was he to allow some sort of forgiveness? It mattered little to him that they might very well also hold the same grudge against him and his own family. He paid no mind to any of that. A thin smile marked his features as he made a show of thinking on it. "You really do enjoy to strip the enjoyment out of everything, don't you?" There was something like disdain dripping from his words. Only he knew that Tristan wouldn't renege on this term, this was going to be something that Klaus would have to get used to. Letting someone out of his clutches and making their names disappear off of his mental list of enemies - Eventually he offered a stiff nod of his head almost as though he were reluctant to offer this. "I will draw back any plans that I have up here - " he tapped at his temple before dropping his hand once more. " - that refers to either you or your lovely sister." He smiled and hoped that it seemed to lack the sincerity that it should have held when one made a deal. "But, tell me, will that make you secure I wonder?" He hoped so because he didn't want his brother under the chaotic threat from Tristan and Aurora, not when Klaus just got him back.

@lordofthestrix xxx

[omgrachwrites]

Marry For Love - Prince Caspian

Pairing: Merman!Caspian x Reader

Request: Hi I have a weird request : merman Prince Caspian x human reader? it’s fine if you don’t want to do it - anon

Warnings: fluff, slight bit of angst

Words: 1145

A/N: Sorry about the radio silence guys, I'm back now, I hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! Thank you for the request, anon, I love you all! xxx

There was a deafening silence in the Throne Room as you awaited another one of your suitors, if truth be told, this particular suitor had been back and forth between the palace for a number of weeks now. Every time you rejected the proposal, the prince would shower you with lavish gifts, he was determined to get you but you would never say yes. You would never let Prince Erik to rule beside you as King.

You glanced over at your Captain of the Guards – who had been like a father to you since your own had died – and you wished that you hadn’t. He was looking straight at you and you could tell that from beneath his thick beard that his chin was trembling, you could tell that he was trying not to laugh. You felt your own lips quiver and you smothered a laugh of your own with a cough.

“Your Majesty,” the Captain started and it was a miracle that he was able to keep his voice steady, “maybe we should,” he was interrupted by the two doors slamming open and Erik came striding in but you heard the distinct noise of chains rattling.

“Queen, Y/N, the Queen of my dreams,” he smirked and it should have made him look more handsome but it only served to unnerve you.

“Prince Erik, what can I do for you this time?”

“You cannot reject me this time, my love, not when you see what I’ve brought you as a gift,” he reached behind him and dragged something forward.

The whole room gasped and every man looked like he wanted to kill Erik, it was the most beautiful being that you’d ever seen, a fairy with shimmering wings and curling silver hair that reached the floor. You were angry with Erik; how could anyone be so cruel?

“Come here,” you reached out to the fairy and she obediently walked towards you with fear on her face, you smiled gently and removed her chains, your anger rising when you saw the red marks on her wrists, “did he hurt you?” when the fairy shook her head, you wrapped your arms around her and glared at the Prince, “the capture of Narnian’s is illegal! And, you think that I’d ever marry you?! I will never marry you!”

Erik gave you such a cold look that you actually felt the temperature drop a little, “you can’t do this!”

“Arrest him!” your guards immediately jumped to attention and clapped him in iron, “hmm, I’ve changed my mind, let him go,” the guards obeyed your orders at once, but they still stood at attention and you slowly walked toward him, craning your head back to look up at him, “I am the Queen of this land, don’t presume to tell me what I can and can’t do,” you glanced back at your Captain, “throw him in the dungeons.”

Later on that day, you were on the beach, walking beside the rolling waves that were calm and quiet as a whisper, “I heard from a little fairy that the Queen of Narnia is the kindest woman in all the land,” you heard laughter in the warm silken voice.

You grinned as you looked down into the sea and saw the beautiful merman smirking up at you, his silver scales glittering in the sunlight. You smiled and sat down on the warm sand, “is she okay, Caspian?”

Caspian nodded and smiled, “she’s fine.”

You felt so ashamed that something so horrible had happened in your land, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” he sighed and pulled himself out of the water to sit next to you, “you’re not going to marry him are you?” he asked, staring down at the golden sand.

“Of course not! I’m not going to marry any of them. How could I when you’re the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen?” you turned his chin so he looked at you.

Caspian smiled as he leaned into your touch and he gazed at you with sparkling brown eyes. He cupped your cheek and leaned over so he could kiss you. He was so gentle with you, like you were made of glass. Was he afraid you’d fall apart?

“I love you, Caspian,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

Caspian smiled as he combed gentle fingers through your hair, “I love you too.”

You bit your lip as you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, “marry me Caspian,” Caspian scoffed with a little laugh as he gave you a disbelieving look, “I’m serious,” you sighed.

Caspian gave you a wan smile, “I can’t Y/N, you need to marry someone of royal blood, I’m not even human.”

“I don’t care about any of that, Caspian,” you felt a horrible pain in your chest as he shook his head.

“I can’t Y/N.”

You stayed on the beach with Caspian until it grew dark and you headed back to the palace and retired to your quarters with a heavy heart. If you couldn’t marry Caspian, then you wouldn’t marry anyone.

A couple of weeks later, you were throwing the annual afternoon party in the gardens where the subjects and royalty could mix, it was something that your mother had started when she was Queen. The weather was beautiful as was the soft music that played but you could hardly appreciate it, you hadn’t seen Caspian since you had asked him to marry you, you didn’t regret asking him but you were so angry with yourself that you had ruined things.

“Your Majesty?” you heard a familiar soft voice coming from the water and you turned to look at the river that ran through the gardens. There he was, Caspian, he looked so beautiful and he looked almost bashful as he smiled at you, the entire party went silent as you walked over to him, kneeling at the river bank.

“Caspian,” you smiled as you reached out and touched his cheek.

“I’m sorry for disappearing, Y/N but I had something to plan,” he smiled and you nodded at him for him to continue, “I love you, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, anyway that I can,” he held out the flat of his palm and you saw the most beautiful silver ring with a pink pearl encased in the centre, “will you marry me?”

You smiled at him before you glanced over your shoulder to look at your people who were all looking at you with so much love and support and you looked back at Caspian who looked slightly nervous, your heart soared as you took the ring out of his hand and slipped it onto your finger.

“Yes, I will marry you, I love you so much,” you grinned as you kissed him beneath the blazing sun.

[glassheartjukebox]

a series of fortunate events

feat. aone

“i can be your babe if you won’t let go” - cariño

a/n: part of the soulmate event! please check out the other parts here. reblogs are appreciated!

inconvenience colored your life. soulmate marks were beautiful, unpredictable, and permanent. a mark you were born with that dictated where your soulmate would first make physical contact with you.

you’d seen marks worse than your own. a hot headed friend of yours from middle school had a dark red mark adorning her knuckles; likely meaning she’d punch her soulmate when she met them. you’d seen marks just as perplexing as yours, like the coworker with a fuchsia mark around her ankle. you still hadn’t quite figured that one out.

your mark was annoying for two very distinct reasons. 1. it is incredibly visible. 2. you had no idea how you’d get this mark.

your mark was a big blotch of peach directly on your forehead. upon entering high school, you’d decided bangs might be the way to go. specifically because people didn’t make eye contact with you, but rather with the mark on your forehead.

friends and family posited many situations for your “first touch” over the years. your mother insisted that they’d kiss you on the forehead. another family member insisted your mark would be from your soulmate checking your temperature by laying their hand across your forehead. you’d given up on pondering. eventually, you’d get your answer when the mark began to shimmer.

for now, your friend yachi was dragging you to a volleyball tournament. as their new manager, she believed it was her duty to show her team’s skill off to the world. who are you to deny your sweet friend?

“yachi!” you yelled over the stands, spotting her among the spectators. turning at the sound of her name, she flashed you an excited smile and waved you over. sliding into the seat next to her, you also met saeko, an older girl and tanaka’s big sister.

the johzenji match felt never ending. despite not caring much about the sport, you were tightly gripping yachi’s hand for most of the match and praying that karasuno would come out on top. ultimately, they did.

karasuno approached the stands and thanked the crowd for supporting them. you thought yachi and saeko were going to scream themselves hoarse praising the team. you saw hinata, a familiar face in the crowd and gave him two thumbs up.

“good job hinata! nice kills!” he beamed back at you, clearly eating up the praise. the team disappeared below the stands, likely going to regroup after the game.

“come on girls! i wanna congratulate my baby brother in person.” saeko practically yelled at you guys. yachi was bouncing out of her seat in an instant. you, on the other hand, couldn’t find your phone anywhere.

“just one second- goddamnit where did i put my phone,” you grumbled, checking under the seat to no avail.

“come on y/n, we’re gonna miss them!” yachi pleaded.

“found it!” saeko piped up, handing the device to you. she took that opportunity to get a vice grip on your hand.

“let’s go girls,” she cackled, pulling you and yachi through the crowd at a fast pace.

“excuse me- i’m so sorry,” yachi squeaked out apologies while saeko recklessly dragged the two of you through the crowd. as you entered the hallways, the crowd thinned. a ways ahead of you, you spotted hinata’s orange hair rounding a corner.

“that way!” you motioned for the corner you had just passed and started to jog with saeko, grabbing yachi’s other hand. unexpectedly, you were enjoying yourself. saeko was a ball of unpredictable sass; her energy was contagious. why not be a menace?

yachi was still spewing out apologies to passers by while you had joined saeko in her maniacal laughter. the aforementioned corner was coming up fast and you rounded it at a quick pace without a second thought.

well, you tried to round it. instead, you found yourself flat on your ass with a dull pain in your forehead. you reoriented yourself quickly, finding a massive volleyball player with white hair standing in front of you, quite bewildered. Saeko was next to you in an instant, helping you up while this mountain of a man stood in front you, shell shocked.

“i’m so sorry, i should’ve been paying more attention. are you okay?” you were bowing as deep as you could, hoping you hadn’t injured the poor guy.

he stood there silently, and you were starting to get a little confused. was he that offended? it was nothing personal, you were just being a dumbass.

“uh, y/n?” yachi whispered beside you, “your forehead, it’s different.”

“wait what?” you asked rhetorically, whipping out your phone and flipping the front facing camera. rather than the stagnant, dull peachy mark that previously adorned your forehead, you found the mark has changed to an irredescent and ever moving peach glitter. the man in front of you slowly pulled his collar foreword and looked down his shirt, presumably to where your forehead had made contact with his chest.

“oh wow.” was all he said.

“that’s one way to meet your soulmate,” you smiled softly at him. his stature was both impressive and attractive. the fierce red blush adorning his cheeks made him significantly less intimidating.

“aone! come on, we’re starting warm ups now!” an unknown boy grabbed his arm, looking confused at the situation. thinking fast, you grabbed the game schedule that has been handed to you at the door, and scribbled a quick note.

“aone,

xxx-xxx-xxxx can we see each other somewhere else? i hope your second impression of me will be better than the first. regardless, i’d really like to see you again

xoxo,

your soulmate

in a moment of boldness, you grabbed his hand and slipped the note into it. you curled his hand around the small prince of paper and gave him a soft smile. aone’s face remained shocked, clearly still processing everything that just occurred.

“good luck at your game, i’ll be watching from the stands.” aone only responded with a soft smile and put his hand on top of yours, squeezing it.

yachi and saeko were on their own for the reminder of day. you were watching date tech’s infamous iron wall and wondering what those strong hands blocking the ball would feel like intertwined with yours.

©glassheartjukebox all written content belongs to this user. do not repost, modify, or copy content

[suchalonelysunflower]

You Broke Me First (C.H)

Pairing: former FWB!Calum X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Based on the song “You Broke Me First” by Tate McRae. You are trying to forget about the man who broke your heart, so it’s a surprise when his name appears on your phone again.

Warnings: Angst af. Language. Mild Smut. Mentions of Alcohol and cheating. Probably one or two grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 5K

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely @thebasicbitch-things ✨ I loved writing this piece, maybe because I love the song so much, so thank you for requesting it and I hope I made it justice 💕. Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcome and appreciated it! You can read my other works HERE. Happy reading! 🦋

@thebasicbitch-things : Can you write a Calum imagine based off the song You Broke me first by Tate McRae?? Like I’m just in a weeping mood. Thank you xxx

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that you were thinkin' 'bout someone else

You're drunk at a party or maybe it's just that your car broke down

Your phone's been off for a couple months, so you're calling me now

The liquid burns your throat, but you don’t really feel it anymore. When the heat starts spreading around the rest of your body is when you know you need another one. And another one. And another one. Anything to keep him from your mind.

It’s ironic how the memory of him still lingers on, even more with every drink you drown. Well, it’s not so ironic as it is shitty. But it’s at times like this, when you’re at a random club in the middle of the night surrounded by strangers trying to create stories of their own while all you want to do is forget, that the only thing your mind can focus on is him.

A year ago:

“Babe?” You heard his voice as he exited the bathroom. Still shirtless and with his boxers on, hanging loosely “Are you okay?”

You sat down on the bed, your naked skin barely covered by the messy sheets “Mhmm” you mumbled, still zooned out in your own thoughts and worries as you saw Calum grab his shirt and jeans from the floor.

It was always the same. He would call or text, you would meet with any excuse, hang out for a while before moving to the bedroom. The same old story of friends who fuck each other, with the same old ending every night: you in your bed watching him get dressed and close the door on his way out.

“Do you really have to leave?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“I have to”

“No, you don’t have to”

“Y/N…”

You hated that condescending tone. Not only that, but you hated yourself, too. You and this whole messy situation you got yourself into. You didn’t know how bad of an idea it was to accept his proposal of friends with benefits when you already had feelings for him. But who could say no to Calum Hood? Especially with the hopes of becoming something more along the way.

At the beginning it was all you could dream of. The night seemed endless when he hold you close to him, breathing the same air as your bodies collided with each other, creating messes as you explored every inch of skin you had to offer, seeing stars explode with every right touch, hearing each other’s names like prayers coming from your parting lips. It was almost like you couldn’t get enough, almost.

“What? God, Calum, would it kill you to stay the night just once? Would it ruin your reputation of a heartthrob batchellor?”

“What has gotten into you?” He asked in confusion at your sudden outburst “You know the rules of this”

“Oh, the rules. Fuck them”

The rules were simple: Never overstaying, no exclusivity, don’t let others find out, never do anything public… but most importantly: Never fall in love. You had agree to that once, but most certainly broken almost every rule. You’ve fallen in love with him.

“Y/N…”

“It hurts, Calum” You said with glossy eyes “It hurts when you leave, and I- I can’t watch you do that anymore”

Calum’s eyes soften a bit. Debating whether or not he should stay. But after a pleading “Please” from your lips he caved in, laying down on the bed next to you, pulling you closer to him.

You smiled, allowing yourself to drift away in dreams and hopes of him laying next to you for the rest of your lives. Little did you know that those dreams were to be crushed next morning when you find an empty bed and a note with a little ‘sorry’ scribbled on it.

That was the first nights of many where he would lay down with you. Sometimes he would stay till morning and share a cup of coffee with you at breakfast. Other times he would disappear as a ghost in the middle of the night, only leaving the marks on your body as proof of his presence. It hurted, but at least you didn’t watch him walk away. You never watched as he did.

Took a while, was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I could've ever, you know that hurt

Swear for a while I would stare at my phone just to see your name

But now that it's there, I don't really know what to say

You feel your friend’s grasp on your arm as they drag you down to the dance floor. Pulling you away from your own pity party as you watch how they sway to the beat of a song you’ve never heard of, soon joining them with the alcohol in your veins rushing towards your brain and taking control of your every move. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you tell yourself as you let the music take you away, already feeling the effects of the one too many shots you did earlier. But some things are easier said than done.

It’s funny, how after so many months of not seeing each other you can still feel him in your skin. You memorized the way his hands wrapped around your waist and the smell of his cologne. You could still feel his breath on your neck, the burning kisses he used to leave and the whispers that got lost inside a dream. Even now that you are dancing along to an ear shattering beat, the rhythm of your heart still beats and longs for him.

You can feel yourself in the dire need of another drink, desperate to push those memories away and cleanse yourself from his touch once and for all. You don’t care how many nights it would take, how many people or how many hangovers. You are determined to get that boy out of your system, where he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Y/N!” Your friend yells over the music, gesturing towards your hand “Your phone is glowing!”

You bring your phone to your face, trying to focus on the image that’s plastered across the screen. A name pops up, a name you haven’t seen in so long.

Muttering an “Oh fuck” you press ‘decline’ over and over again, until Calum stopped calling.

Seven months ago:

It’s been two weeks since you last heard from him. It’s been two weeks since he left you alone in a fuzz. It’s been two weeks since he slammed the door and he still hasn’t called.

Maybe he was right and you fucked everything up. But you were sure of your words, you know there’s truth to them, so you stan by them. He will soon realize his mistake, he has to. He wouldn’t leave you like that, would he? He must know he hurt you, he must. The words he said… they are like tattoos on your mind, they don’t seem to fade with time. But you knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. You were as guilty as he was.

For the past two weeks you’ve been glued to your screen, hoping for his name to appear. Taping your screen randomly to see if you’ve gotten a text or a call or a dm or even a fucking email. But nothing ever came.

It wasn’t until you were scrolling down Twitter that you saw it.

It was a paparazzi photo, he was wearing a classic tee and the sweatpants you once told him were your favorite on him. His hair was longer, or at least it seemed like it, his eyes avoiding the cameras as he walked through the busy streets of LA as he normally would. The only difference is the hand that was holding his.

A lump formed in your throat as you opened the tweet to find a thread of even more pictures of him with the mysterious person, grabbing them by the waist and smiling as they came closer. The paparazzi seemed to catch every single intimate moment he was able to show in public, much more than he ever showed you when you were both out and sober, at least. But Calum seemed happy, and that hurt you the most.

A thousand questions ran through your head as you ignored the happy tweets from fans celebrating that his favorite band member finally got a significant other. How long has this been going on? Did he ever tell you about it? You never claim exclusivity, so it could’ve had happen when you were still ‘together’, meaning he choose them. He left you and chose them, replacing you and everything you didn’t get to have without even saying goodbye.

Swallowing the bitterness of the memory with a shot of tequila, you press decline once again and order another drink. What would you say to him anyway? Would you curse him? Would you kiss him? Would he even apologize or pretend that it never happened? The truth is, you don’t even want to know.

You catch some flirty eyes from across the bar, but you ignore them as you try to collect your thoughts on this whole situation, and besides, don’t need another heartbreak at the moment.

“That guy hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he came in” Said the bartender, pouring you another drink.

You lift your gaze towards ’pretty eyes’ over the bar, but he already seemed to have lost interest in you as his eyes scattered all over the room, looking for another person to spend his time with.

“Doesn’t seem like it” You nod toward the other end of the bar.

“What? No, not him. Him!”

They point behind you and you turn around quickly, a pretty bad idea considering how drunk you are at the moment. But wasted or not, you would recognize those eyes anywhere.

Calum is standing in the middle of a sea of people, but his eyes are solemnly focusing on you as he raises his phone to his ear, raising his eyebrows as he hears the dial tone. Almost immediately, your phone starts ringing next to you with the all too familiar name popping out again.

Without breaking eye contact, you press decline once again, standing up quickly as you start to walk up to the nearest exit, trying to get away from him as fast as you could. ‘Tonight is not about Calum’ you told yourself earlier that night, and yet there he was, pushing his way through a drunk crowd to get towards you.

“Y/N!” You hear him call, but you are not stopping. You don’t need this confrontation right now. You don’t want to see him or talk to him. You want to forget him and everything you ever did.

Feeling like your chest is going to explode at any second, you accelerated your pace, not caring how many people you have to push to get to the door as long as he doesn’t find you. Your legs, however, had other plans as they give out due to the mix dizziness and adrenaline you were feeling, just mere meters from the exit. You curse your past self for having so many drinks as you try to get up. But, soon enough, you feel an arm rounding around your waist and pulling you to your feet.

After almost eight months you find yourself reflected in those eyes again. The same eyes that made you feel butterflies in your stomach everytime he looked your way. You couldn’t help but get drawn into them, remembering that the last time you saw them they replaced the desire with anger, shaking you to your core.

He was saying something, you were sure of it because his mouth is moving “What?!”

“I said, Why aren’t you answering your phone?!” He yelled over the music. Your drunk mind can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him or cry right there on the spot.

“That’s none of your business! Now please let go of me, I want to go home”

You push yourself away from his grasp “Y/N, please I need to ta-“ He interrupted himself as he watched you almost trip over your own feet again, clearly too drunk to stand straight. In a matter of seconds, he was by your side again, this time pulling your arm over his shoulders so you could lay on him “Wha- How many drinks did you have?”

“As many as I needed” You scoffed, trying to pull away, but his grip on your waist was stronger.

“For what?! Drown yourself?”

“I needed to forget you” Calum clenches his jaw, feeling like his heart was shattered into a million pieces “But that’s clearly not working, given that you are here. Would you please let me go?”

“Y/N you are too drunk to function,”

“Am not!”

“Please, let me take you home. I need to talk to you”

“Leave me alone, Calum. I don’t need you and I most definitely don’t want to talk to you”

You turn your face to him. It has been a long time since you last saw him. He has more curls now, and a little five o’clock shadow, but his yes,,, oh, his eyes. The time stops, or at least it feels like it, it was almost like the first time you saw them, magnetic and filled with something you couldn’t decipher, but now they had something different. They were hurting, pleading, almost begging you for something you didn’t quite understand at the moment, but you know you couldn’t say no to those eyes, at least not here and not in your condition.

So after making sure you could stand properly, you caved “Fine”

I know you, you're like this

When shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it

And like me, I did

But I ran out of every reason

The car ride was as silent as a tomb. The sounds of the city night and the flashing of streetlights were your only source of distraction. You looked through the window, not wanting to make any eye contact with the man that broke your heart. He, however, was anxious for you to spare a glance towards him. Calum’s fingers taped the steering wheel nervously, he wanted to fill the silence with something, anything. But his words came short as he realized that you weren’t the person he knew, you were a stranger sitting in his car. The clothes you were wearing, the state of drunkenness you were in, the anger behind your eyes and words, and the fact that you couldn’t even stan him touching you… that was not the Y/N he knew.

Once you reached the house, you didn’t even wait for him to turn the car off as you practically jumped out of the seat and went to open the door. Calum quickly following you, half of him afraid that you might hurt yourself, the other half afraid that you would lock him out.

He let out a breath of relief as you let him in. Remembering the last time he was here.

Seven and a half months ago:

It was a normal afternoon for the two of you. Things were going well, Calum started to be more open towards you, spending the night, cuddling and hanging out more without the promise of sleeping together afterwards and you loved it. You were having fun as well, you would walk Duke together or cook dinner or just exist together by watching a movie or listening to his favorite songs that you “absolutely needed to hear” And today was no different as you cuddled with him watching one of Netflix’s crappy teenage movies. Things were going well, or so you thought.

You were straddling him, lips melting together as the movie was long forgotten. His hands were cupping your ass, setting a slow pace with your hips as you grinded on him. You whole body was on fire, ready to burst when his lips made their way down your neck, leaving marks that you would later trace with your fingers as you try to hide them.

“Calum,” You moaned softly as he found your sweet spot under your ear, sucking and biting it like only he knew how. Your hands flew to the back of his head, fingers lost in his hair, tugging it lightly every time he met your hips with a dry thrust.

He groaned, drunk to sounds you were making. He loved the effect he had on you, almost as much as the effect you had on him. It was addictive, dangerous. He knows he shouldn’t play with fire, but what a lovely way to burn it was.

You moaned again when you felt his teeth grazing your jaw, finding their way to your lips again. The rolling of your hips was faster, more desperate than before, the friction was almost unbearable. You needed him with a passion “C-Calum…”

“Tell me what you want, baby” He said with a raspy voice, breathing onto your neck “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you”

You shuddered at his words, getting dizzy with his touch, his soft groans and his eyes filled with lust, looking straight into your soul, burning like the sun.

You grabbed his head by the sides, pulling him closer until your foreheads pressed together “You” you whispered loud enough for him to hear “I want all of you, Calum”

A couple of hours passed and you were still laying on the sofa, cuddled against the naked chest of the bassist. His fingers were caressing your sides as both of your breathings became even, coming out of your highs.

You felt infinite in his arms, safe and wanted. You wanted this to last forever, to have him only for yourself and be his everything. You craved for more intimate looks, for innocent touches while in public, you wanted to show the world how in love you were with this man that has, not only conquered your heart, but also your soul. You loved him, and you hope with your whole heart that he loves you too.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, drawing circles down your arm.

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or not. You knew Calum had always denied himself the possibility of love, stating time and again that he doesn’t really believe in it. But you’ve seen a change in him for the last few months you were together. He was more caring, more attentive, staying longer than he should and being there for you when you needed, not only for a quick fuck anymore. Maybe the chances of him loving you back were not as low as you thought.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” You ventured, lifting your gaze to meet his. He gave you a quizzical look, not really sure of what you were referring to “I do want all of you, Calum”

He smiled “You have me now”

“Yeah,,, but that’s not what I meant”

Taking a brave step, you pushed yourself forward and kissed him. You were done hiding the feelings you’ve been accumulating over the years, ready to let yourself go and drown on him. Only him.

Calum, however, was taken by surprise. Pulling himself from you.

“I thought we agree on not to catch feelings for each other” He said coldly. Already sitting up and looking across the room for his clothes.

You sat and watched as he got up from his spot on the couch and started to dress as fast as he could.

“Cal-“

“We agreed, Y/N. We said no string attached. Goddammit, everything was going so well, but you had to fuck it up, didn’t you?”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Shattering you completely from the inside. You tried to collect your thoughts as the tears threatened to come out, but Calum kept going.

“What the hell were you thinking? What were you expecting? Huh?”

“It’s not my fault that I love you” Your voice sounded broken, weak, and you hated that. How could he be so angry? What gave him the right when you were the one who was hurting?

“Well, it’s not mine either! Is it?” Calum said with exasperation, putting on his shirt.

“I thought-“

“What? That I loved you? Y/N, I don’t love anyone! You knew that when we started this!”

“And what am I to you then?!” You matched his tone of voice, tears were already spilling down your face but you didn’t care. You were fuming “What am I, Calum? A friend? A good fuck? Huh? Was I just a toy that you could play with every time you felt needy? Have you ever thought of me as something more?”

Calum’s stare was cold as ice. He was standing in the middle of the living room, clenching his fists to either side of his body until his knuckles became white. You, on the other hand, were sitting on the couch, crying. But your eyes burned with anger as you saw how carelessly he was invalidating your feelings, throwing everything away just because he couldn’t admit his own. A silent war was being fought between the two of you, both of you so scared but with nothing left to lose.

It seemed like ages had passed before Calum spoke again, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

“Was there ever something more?”

You kept staring at the nothing he left behind, the last thing you heard was the slamming of your front door, leaving you alone and completely heartbroken.

Calum followed you into the kitchen, completely avoiding the living room where he last saw you, where he left you. He felt weirdly unwelcomed as you poured yourself a glass of water without even offering one to him, maybe he was.

You drink your water slowly, thinking that that will give you time to think on what to say to him. Maybe he would start talking soon, but the only thing he does is stare at you from the other side of the kitchen island. “How did you know where I was?” You asked.

“Your friend’s stories. You may have blocked me from yours, but they haven’t”

Then, silence came over you again. It was almost like he was waiting for you to say something, just like you always did. You played this game before, you are not going to cave. You are not going to give him the satisfaction of controlling the situation here.

“I need to talk to you” He finally said, letting his shoulders relax for a bit.

“You keep saying that. But you sure haven’t done a lot of talking”

The tension in the room was so thick that it could easily be cut by a knife. You always wondered what you would say to him, what would you feel the next time you saw him and, right now, you felt like there was nothing more to say. He had no right appearing into your life again, not when you were picking yourself together after he shattered you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry”

“For what, exactly?” The venom in your voice was palpable, Calum knew this was not going to be easy for him “For leaving me here alone and then got yourself another person to play the ‘couple’ part? For practically calling me a whore? Or for giving me shit because of what I felt for you, knowing damn well you felt the same?”

You tilted your head, waiting for his answer, but it seems you left him speechless. Good.

Calum ran his hand through his curls, staring at the floor then back at you “I fucked up”

“That much is true”

“I’m serious, Y/N” He started walking towards you “I’m sorry for everything, you are right. You always are. I just- I didn’t know what to do! I panicked and-“

“And that’s your excuse of why you ran away instead of facing the problem?”

“I was scared! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Calum raised his voice. He was now standing a couple of feet in front of you, so close and yet so far away from you “Y/N, I was so fucking scared. You know that I’ve never had a committed relationship before, that I never let things get too far but with you.. God, I never felt the same with anyone like that before not after you. And then you said all of those things and I- Hearing you say that you love me was too much, I couldn’t process it and instead of saying something coherent I just lashed out on you and you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry”

Calum took a step forward, softly grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He took your silence as his cue to continue.

“You were always there for me, every time I needed you were there. No questions asked, no judging, not waiting for something in return. Always making me laugh, supporting me and letting me take a break from the messy life I have. You were the best thing in my life and I took you for granted. I hate that it has taken me this long to realize that, but I just miss you, Y/N. I miss us, so much that you can’t imagine how much it hurts. I need you with me, please let’s just go back to where we started. Or we can start over, whatever you want! But, please, baby, please don’t leave me”

And just before you know it, Calum cupped your cheek with his free hand and brought your face closer to him, crashing his lips into yours. You responded almost immediately by parting your lips and granting him more access, getting completely lost inside the kiss.

For a moment it felt like the old times, he tastes just like you remember and his touch stills makes your skin erupt with goosebumps. For years you’ve been waiting for this, for him to feel the same about you and love you without any fears or doubts, claiming that he was yours and you were his. You wanted this for so long… but why does it feel so bad?

Gathering all the courage you could manage, you push Calum away from you.

“S-stop!” You said, trembling “Stop, this isn’t right”

He gave you a confused look as he took a step back “Y/N-“

“What about your partner? Calum, did you at least break up with them before you came to find me?” The way he looked at the floor gave you all the answers you needed. You raised your hand to your forehead, suppressing the urge to cry or laugh at his antics “Oh my God”

“I was going to! I swear I just-“ He failed to find an excuse “Things were doing awful between us lately, Y/N. You have to understand, I-“

“What?!” You spat “that you had to make sure I was on board with all of this?! I am not a consolation prize, Calum. I am not a second choice!”

“Baby, I know. I-“

“Don’t call me that!”

Calum took another step back, he has never seen you so angry before.

“How dare you? How. Dare. You, Calum. Coming here after eight months! saying all that shit about how much I mean to you when it’s just bullshit”

“Y/N, it’s not-“

“I’m not fucking finish” You say raising a hand to silence him “Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? I don’t get a single text or call or fucking smoke signal from you for eight months, knowing how I felt about you, and now suddenly you're asking for it back? Saying that you miss all that we had? We had nothing, Calum. We were nothing more than just a fuck around, you said it yourself, didn’t you? There was no ‘us’ for you to miss. You made damn sure of that. You don’t miss me, not really. You miss how I made you feel. How easy it was for me to be there for you every time you called, well, I’m tired of fixing all your problems, I ran out of every reason to do it.

And I was so stupid, you know? For believing just for a second that this could actually mean something when it never meant something to you in the first place! Did you even think about how I would feel about all of this? Of course not! Why would you? After all, I’m just Y/N! The one who always gets stepped on, why should my feelings matter? If I’m always going to be there for you and everything you ask for. Well, fuck that!”

“Y/N..” Calum tried to intervene, but you couldn’t hear him.

“You want to know what I did after you left? I cried myself to sleep for weeks, reliving every moment we had, every word you said just before you left. Waiting by the phone for hours just to see if you’d call. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I was the living incarnation of death because I realized I lived just for you. Well, not anymore. You said you were hurting, you have no idea what I went through so, I’m sorry, but I don't really care how bad it hurts. I’m done. We are done”

You walk by him and towards the front door, opening it as an invitation for him to leave. Calum, however, remained standing in your kitchen, staring at you with glossy eyes.

“Baby, please don’t do this” He said with a trembling voice “I don’t know what to do without you I’m- I’m broken”

You were still standing by the door. Unmoving and without an inch of sympathy for the man crying in front of you.

“You broke me first, Calum. But I’m all glued back together now, and I did it by myself. Hope one day you could learn to do that too”

And, for the first time in months, you saw him leave.

[hitbythunder]

Among the Gods of Asgard -1

A dark!Thor x Reader, minor Loki x Reader story with all the drama and angst you’re craving. Including Alexander Skarsgard as Balder. --> Read also on AO3

Summary: The gods are being loved and feared in equal parts by their subjects, more the latter by the thousands of slaves working for them. Ten feet tall, powerful and immortal are the rulers of all beings within the Nine Realms. You, the daughter of an Asgardian merchant, fancy the three handsome princes of Odin - like any woman does - and dream of actually meeting them instead of watching them at public events. That is until, as a consequence of Loki's tricks, you are being forced into slavery at the royal court. Amidst this harsh new reality, you catch the attention of the god of Thunder who then seeks to make you his alone. You are nothing but a toy, a puppet, in the god's eyes and he will use you as he pleases.

Do not hope for mercy.

**** WARNING: dark story, manipulative Thor, heavy rape/non-con elements, no happy ending in sight

____________________________xXx____________________________

Asgard: the golden city at the centre of Yggdrasil, the World-Tree, where the Aesir - the gods - spent their immortal lives in noble estates and palaces. From behind the high walls of the golden palace, the royal family ruled over the city and all the other Nine Realms. Each god and goddess was gifted with special powers and enchanted weapons. Their subjects worshipped them, sacrificing their last penny if need be in the hope of receiving the blessing of the addressed god. Not all gods were inclined to help, however, some ignored the prayers of the common people and a few gods were even considered cruel. The king of Asgard and All-Father of the gods, Odin Borsson, was wise and just but he ruled with an iron hand over the Nine, his word being law to all beings dwelling in his realm. The gods lived in peace among the normal Asgardian citizens and apart from their might, which granted them a superior status, there was one distinct difference between these two classes: the gods were a lot taller than the ordinary people, each of them being at least ten feet tall – the males often taller.

Conclusively, their daily needs, desires and the amount of labor force necessary to satisfy all those were similar to their divine size. As were the pompous mansions and estates, with the royal palace leading the way. Behind its golden towers and walls, numerous chambers and salons housed the many gods and goddesses, the interior fittings matching the royal status of the resident. To afford all this luxury, slavery had become an adequate means and thanks to the many wars, uprisings or revolts within the Nine Realms, there was always ample supply of working hands. No wonder Asgard had become the richest city of all, its wealth being well accumulated over the centuries. Asgard, the city of gods and many wonders. That's exactly where _________ was born as the daughter of an upper-class merchant who traded various luxury goods across the realms. If the gods, or a member of the Asgardian elite, had any special wishes her father would make them come true – in exchange for a pretty penny of course. But money wasn't an issue for those customers.

Due to her father's skills the family had a very good life, absent any worries for money. While ________'s mother tried to teach her brother Einar and her that gold wasn't the only wealth worth striving for, the father succumbed to the former approach. His greed was growing each passing year. Despite being accustomed to the benefits of her father's income, the girl was neither haughty nor spoiled (well, maybe a little). Unfortunately, she didn't realize how the gold harmed her father - how it carved out his soul inch by inch - until it was too late.

xxx

When the celebrations for queen Frigga's name-day neared, prince Balder decided for a special piece of jewelry as a gift for his mother. The stones should be unique, reflecting her beauty and status as queen. But where would the god of light find a fitting piece? Luckily, he had already heard of the Asgardian merchant, Harald Leifson, who managed to obtain even the most exceptional objects for his customers. Thus, Balder summoned the man and stated his wish, stressing the importance of the punctual delivery as well as the quality of the item. The queen deserved only the best and anything less as a gift would bring shame upon the god himself.

Sniffing the sweet scent of a considerate amount of gold, Harald accepted of course and he already had a vague idea where he would get the desired jewelry. Soon later, the merchant returned from his journey across several realms having a splendid necklace with gems out of star-light in his possession. The following day at his shop, when Harald was polishing the necklace before he would deliver it, an unexpected new customer entered. Judging from the rich black silken tunic adorned with little gems and golden beads, the gentleman could only be a member of some rich family, probably pretty high up the society-ladder. “What marvelous piece you have there!” the man with brown short locks assessed as he spied the necklace between the merchant's hands, his emerald green eyes fixated on the glittering stones. “A beauty indeed and worth a good fortune too! 50,000 pieces of gold, hah, that's gonna be the deal of my life!” Harald mused and held the necklace up so that the other man could have a closer look at it.

“I wonder who can afford such a masterpiece... Your client must be truly bathing in gold to afford such like!” the noble man said, those mesmerizing eyes still focused on the jewelry in a fascinated and hungry manner. “Yeah, he better keeps up his end of the bargain. Otherwise he won't get it! God of Light or not, payment is due!” Harald replied in a very arrogant tone and carefully put the necklace into a box carved from ebony, fitting its exquisite content. The brown-haired man's face lit up at the mention of a god involved and with a cunning smile he made Harald an offer he simply couldn't resist. At first the merchant had refused but somehow the velvet-like voice of the eloquent gentleman could persuade him to take this even 'better deal': Harald sold the star-light necklace to the brown-haired man for 55,000 pieces of gold. Since the gentleman had to prepare the trunks of gold at his home estate, the payment would be delivered three days hence – after the queen's name-day celebrations. And as a sign of trust and goodwill, the new customer with emerald eyes gave Harald another necklace of gold and green-blue sapphires which he could sell on to the god of light. Hence, there would be another 50,000 gold pieces waiting for the merchant. A win-win situation.

If Harald hadn't been so blinded by the promised gold, he might have reconsidered this suspicious offer.

xxx

A few hours before the grand feast in the queen's honor, Harald was again summoned by Balder so that they could close off their deal. The merchant handed the ebony box containing the sapphire necklace to the god, eager to receive the awaited gold, but then it all went wrong. When Balder opened the lid he found the box to be empty and enraged he threw it across the salon. The wood shattering into thousand pieces against the wall.

Despite his begging and apologizing, Harald had been taken by the guards and brought down into the dungeons where he would wait for his trial in front of the king.

Later in the great throne room of the palace, the merchant's family watched as the gods presented their gifts to the queen, one item more precious than the other, and everyone wondered why Balder hadn't come up with at least something. Embarrassed and empty-handed, the fair god stood before his mother and had nothing to give except a tender hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. He would make it up to her and the merchant would pay for this insolence. The most stunning present, however, was given to Frigga by her youngest son, prince Loki, who held a marvelous necklace out of white gems that sparkled like star-light in his slender hands. The whole court present applauded in response and Loki, in full awareness of his brother Balder's stern face, proudly put the jewelry around his mother's neck. His trick had worked out just so nicely.

xxx

The very next morning, the king, his son Balder and a small number of counselors gathered once more in the throne room, Harald kneeling humbly at their feet. Never before had the merchant felt this much fear for both his and his family's well-being. Harald knew what the law had in stall for his crime.

Both parties stated their view of the case and the All-Father, being a just king, listened patiently to each. There was no need for him to heed his counselors, however, because the crime was clear and punishment was due. Harald hadn't kept up his part of a legal bargain and as a consequence he had tainted the honor of the God of Light, which was a grave offense against the gods and the royal family. According to Asgardian law, the merchant's reputation and wealth had to be diminished as well. Thus the fitting sentence was a fee of 25,000 pieces of gold for the deed per se. As for the god's offended honor, Haralds' children had to repay Balder for the not received worth of the necklace in hours of slavery. This way the family would be marked by shame for everyone to see, the children serving as a reminder of the deed for the next generations.

Unfortunately, Einar had already signed for the military service for the crown so the burden of the punishment fell solely to his sister _________. 50,000 hours of slavery, which equals 5 and a half years, at the royal court.

[dirigibleplumbing]

Cap-IM Rec Week - tropes

I REALLY love tropes so I couldn’t pick just one. (The identity porn one got so long that I gave it it’s own post!)  

ARMOR KINK AKA Steve Rogers is an armor-fucker, fight me

Mark XXX by Robin_tCJ

Oh, look, another filthy, filthy threesome porn. This time, it's Steve/Tony/Iron Man Armour. No plot, mostly porn with a little bit of cracky humour. It's dirty, and I'm sorry.

No I'm not. I'm not sorry. You know what, you're all down here in the muck with me.

Thrust Issues by Sineala (@sineala)

A battle gone wrong leads Tony to the unexpected and pleasant discovery that Steve is much more well-endowed than he could ever have imagined. But when Tony learns that Steve has never actually been able to sleep with anyone because of his size, Tony does what any good friend would do: he offers to relieve Steve of his virginity. Personally. Tony's determined, Tony's methodical, and Tony has a plan. He's going to get Steve laid. Tony just needs to make sure Steve never finds out that Tony's in love with him.

Sharp Dressed Man by copperbadge (@copperbadge)

There are a lot of things you can do with a personalized suit of armor and a naked super soldier.

aaannd now a shameless self-rec Edges by dirigibleplumbing  (@dirigibleplumbing)

Steve has some ideas about what Tony’s neurally-controlled nanotech armor could be used for. Ideas involving bondage, Steve losing his virginity, and, hopefully, he and Tony working out some of their issues.

TIME TRAVEL 

Lover Come Hold Me by RurouniHime (@thegertie, though I couldn’t get the @ to work properly)

One by one, the stones must go back.

Turnabout Is Fair Play by laireshi (@laireshi)

Steve Rogers has a job that only Tony Stark can finish. Too bad his own Tony is comatose, but that's what he has the Cosmic Cube for: he'll just find another Tony to help. Or two.

The God of Solid Life Advice by kehinki

It's 2012. Steve is just informed by Loki that Bucky's alive.

Loki also tells him some other things.

More Than Gravity by JenTheSweetie (@jenthesweetie)

“Aw, time travel, no.”

On Christmas Eve, Tony came unstuck in time.

Beside You In Time by Kiyaar ( @kiyaar, though the @ is working right here either)

The world is ending: Tony is evil, Steve is old. So there's nothing to stop him from making the (terrible) decision to travel back in time in a last-ditch effort to spare them both: by killing Tony's past self to spare them both from ending up where they've ended up. The Universe has other plans. An honest-to-god fix-it for Superior Iron Man, Hickman's entire run, and pretty much everything since Tony decided it was a good idea to take Extremis way back in 2005.

Canon-divergent from Avengers #44.

Your Name on Every Wall by Sineala (@sineala)

The Time Gem throws Steve into the past rather than the future, and in doing so, it gives him the opportunity to undo his past mistakes. But when it turns out that all of his mistakes involve Tony Stark, Steve begins to wonder if he's ever going to be able to mend things between them.

Strange Mechanics by navaan (@navaan)

Steve is hell bent on ending Hydra before it's too late. Right before he leaves he meets a strange mechanic on base.

time travel self-rec Mobius Strip by dirigibleplumbing (@dirigibleplumbing)

Steve sets off to return the Infinity Stones. It ends up not being quite as straightforward as he'd imagined.

TIME LOOPS / GROUNDHOG DAY

Of things lost in time by erde (orphan_account) 

The Time Stone beckons Steve with the promise of home. He ends up in Clint's farm, reliving the same day again and again.

always winter, always spring by Mizzy (@mizzy2k)

(groundhog day) trapped in an ever-replenishing room with an impossible puzzle to solve, Steve and Tony learn a thing or two about each other and about themselves

A Hundred Times, Once by FestiveFerret, SirSapling (@festiveferret, @sirsapling)

The shrill tone of his SHIELD beeper pulls Steve out of sleep and into battle. He fights robots, he fights Tony's shameless advances, he fights the exhaustion that threatens to take over him, drown him. And then the next morning, he wakes and does it again. Exactly the same.

And again.

And again.

And again.

[bbnibini]

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – sixty-eight🔖

Every family has one or two secrets they keep, don’t they? It can be something shocking like being descendants of royalty, to something intriguing like hiding treasures of endless wealth in some marked location. Our family wasn’t any different. Apparently, according to our elderly relatives, we descended from fallen angels. It all started when a beautiful angel named Lilith fell in love with our ancestor. Their love had been realised after Lilith’s brother sacrificed himself to make Lilith human, so that she can live her life happily with the man she loves. But that didn’t stop there. Many years later, a descendant hailing from our family was spirited away in the demon realm and fell in love with a demon themself. According to my grandmother, that demon was none other than the brother who sacrificed himself for his sister.

They loved each other very much. I still hear stories about them during camping trips and family reunions. In fact, one of the most popular superstitions about them is apparently true. Whether or not there’s validity in their hearsay however, I’m not really sure. I certainly don’t feel like a fallen angel nor a demon. It would have been great if I inherited some of my Grand Uncle’s magical abilities---anyway, I feel like I’m derailing from the point.

The sceptical in me just wanted to know if the rumours were really true. Apparently, every wedding anniversary of theirs, Grand Uncle always comes and leaves a single flower on their grave. Some paintings of Grand Uncle exist in the ancestral house—he was dazzlingly handsome with golden hair and emerald eyes, and is often depicted either holding a book or a cat in his portraits. He never aged and never changed in appearance. I think I saw a blurry photograph of him last family reunion but I didn’t really believe it—it was taken by one of my more superstitious aunts and I can hardly consider themselves credible.

That was why I decided to investigate it myself. It’s a lovely spring day and I have plenty of time, so what can possibly go wrong?

.

.

.

.

.

I know I shouldn’t say that, but it really did seem like this day is agreeing with me. Granted, I apparently missed the bus to get to the cemetery because it only operates on the weekdays, which I found weird because I was certain my stupid old wristwatch indicated it was Monday today. Not everything turned out bad though. I was able to buy carnations at a really cheap price even when it’s already past Mother’s Day. I asked the cashier how they had so many flowers left in stock if they had such a sale on the day itself but I seemed to have gotten the cold shoulder. Did I ask something offensive? I was genuinely curious because they sold such beautiful flowers at such a cheap price. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

“ XXX Station. XXX Station.”

Thankfully, there are other alternatives to get to the cemetery like the subway. I offered a pregnant lady my seat and she smiled and thanked me.

“My husband bought me a similar bouquet today,” she told me. “Are you going to give them to your mother too?”

“My Grand Uncle’s spouse.” I corrected. “It’s their wedding anniversary today.”

“Oh my, how romantic!” She said she was hormonal because of her pregnancy so any sweet or tearjerking stories can make her cry immediately. I was reluctant to part with my favourite handkerchief, but I thought she needed it more than me. I left the station with complicated feelings.

The pathway to my relative’s cemetery was in cobblestones instead of the usual concrete. It almost felt like I was stepping into a different realm. Perhaps the atmosphere of this place is the reason for the fallen angel rumours? I don’t know. But I certainly feel like I’m not on Earth anymore. It was rustic. Charming in a medieval kind of way. Even the names on the epitaphs were barely readable, like they were from an ancient language. I didn’t linger for too long though as I had other things to do.

“A gazebo with a garden of flowers…ah, here it is!” For someone who died for almost a hundred years ago, my relative’s grave was well-maintained. They didn’t look like they aged a day in their photograph, nor were there any discoloration or dilapidation in their gravestone. It was as if their resting place was protected by magic.

.

.

.

.

.

Ha! I'm starting to become quite superstitious myself! This is ridiculous. 

After lighting up an incense and placing the carnations on their grave, I looked at my wristwatch for the time: 11:11 military, or the wishing hour as I’d like to call it (my puns are great, okay). If my aunts and grandmas were right, my Grand Uncle should be showing up any minute now.

.

.

.

.

!!!

My eyes locked with someone…huh?!

“Pardon the intrusion.”

There was no blond hair nor emerald eyes. Certainly, he looked young and handsome in a timeless way, but his eyes are—

“Gold and silver…”

His smile was warm and gentle; as if he recognised me even if I never  met him before. “Ah, are you a relative? I can see the resemblance.”

“Grand Uncle?!?”

He looked rather…sad as he answered. “No... Am I bothering you?” I immediately shook my head and answered him with a question of my own. 

“Are you here to see them?”

“Mhm, if you may allow me?"

Nodding, he held the expensive looking bouquet in his arms and bent down. Who was this man? He certainly wasn’t Grand Uncle. But…even so…why does it feel…

“Can I place it here?”

“Y-yeah…”

The man smiled as he thanked me, gently placing the pink carnations down to their grave. He didn’t speak at all but, the way he looked at my relative’s picture was…strange. He seemed really lonely and vulnerable that I felt like I shouldn’t be looking at all. I made an excuse that I wanted to take a stroll and left him alone. 

“You lived a happy life, didn’t you?”

I thought I heard him say as I left, which made me pause. They died a long time ago. How did this man know my relative lived a happy life when he looked so young? Was he a fallen angel like Grand Uncle?

I wanted to ask him once I walked back, but when I returned from my stroll, he was already gone.

I didn’t know why, but his absence made my heart ache. It was as if I lost an important person. Was I swayed because of his good looks? Or did I long for someone to gaze at me with as much passion and longing as he did to them? Years have passed since then and I’m starting to forget what he looked like. It was ironic that now that I am the same age as my grandmother, I had finally began to understand her fascination with our family superstitions. But instead of the usual tale of my Grand Uncle and his devotion to our relative, I am now telling my own story—a tragic love of the lonely looking man with gold and silver eyes.

[EPILOGUE END]

💌 tag request: @krussyfed, @lilliansstuff , @cupsof-tea

[themculibrary]

Armor Kink Masterlist

1,2,3 Switch (ao3) - StarkLover3000 tony/stephen E, 2k

Summary: What happens when the student becomes the teacher? Tony takes control of his Doctor Strange.

down the rabbit hole (ao3) - starvels (dinosaur) iron man/steve/tony E, 25k

Summary: Steve spends an entire afternoon at the mercy of the Iron Man armor.

He gets exactly what he asks for, and then some.

Hold Me Down (ao3) - tinystark616 steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: Steve asks Tony to wear one of his iron man suits and hold his wrists down during sex.

Tony gives Steve what he wants, and more.

in all and any of your skins (ao3) - Anonymous steve/tony M, 1k

Summary: Steve has a thing for Tony.

Steve has a thing for Iron Man.

This is a problem, until it really isn't.

In Every Way That Matters (ao3) - Sineala steve/tony M, 8k

Summary: There are bright things about the future, and Steve's friendship with Iron Man is one of the brightest. So what if he doesn't know who the man under the mask is? That's not going to stop Steve from wanting his friendship, or even from wanting something more.

Lust’s Effect is Tempest After Sun (ao3) - xDinahQueenx steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: Steve gets dosed with sex pollen, Tony is there for him.

Mark Sixty-Nine (ao3) - Amuly steve/tony, iron man/steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: Tony is irritated that Steve's first hug-and-fly wasn't with him. As the source of many of Steve's other "firsts", Tony has a brilliant idea of how he could take one more. Specifically, Steve's first time being fucked by a machine.

Mark XXX (ao3) - Robin_tCJ steve/tony/iron man (armour) E, 4k

Summary: Oh, look, another filthy, filthy threesome porn. This time, it's Steve/Tony/Iron Man Armour. No plot, mostly porn with a little bit of cracky humour. It's dirty, and I'm sorry.

No I'm not. I'm not sorry. You know what, you're all down here in the muck with me.

not the last time (ao3) - tinystark616 steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: Tony finds out about Steve's armor kink and gives Steve exactly what he wants.

Prototyping (The Make the Sparks Ignite Remix) (ao3) - Sineala steve/tony E, 1k

Summary: Tony is an excellent boyfriend and an excellent engineer, and so there's no way he's going to let his brand-new sex armor fuck Steve without him trying it out himself first.

Sharp Dressed Man (ao3) - copperbadge steve/tony E, 3k

Summary: There are a lot of things you can do with a personalized suit of armor and a naked super soldier.

So turn around and I'll pick up the slack (ao3) - sirona jarvis/tony E, 4k

Summary: This… was not what Tony had in mind when he decided to design himself a new dildo. You won't hear him complaining about the results, however.

Thank you, villain! (ao3) - Just_Bill steve/tony M, 1k

Summary: Steve and Tony are hit by a truth spell. Tony finds out how much Steve likes the armour.

The Blacksmith's Tale (ao3) - buckybarnesdeservestobehappy (hutchabelle) bucky/tony E, 7k

Summary: As the local blacksmith in King Rogers’ kingdom, Tony Stark is highly skilled and in high demand for his ability to forge weapons and armor. Bucky Barnes, the king’s best friend and most talented knight in the realm, not only recognizes Tony’s skill but also commissions special armor to protect him when he rides into battle. As rumors of an impending war reach the kingdom, Tony realizes how important the armor is. Not only will it keep Bucky alive, but it might also save his heart.

The Worst (Thing You've Ever Caught Me Doing) (ao3) - tisfan iron man/tony stark E, 1k

Summary: Impulse control; that was decidedly one of Tony Stark’s biggest problems. As in, he didn’t fucking have any. Which was how he ended up spread out on his workshop table, missing most of his clothes, and being rawed by his own armor.

Torque and Friction (ao3) - BewareTheIdes15 steve/tony E, 4k

Summary: The armor is his religion. And, c'mon, does anyone really expect that Tony Stark wouldn't want to have sex with his religion? He's just never found anybody before who could handle it.

[nighting-gale17]

superhero (stronger than you know)

Buck hated what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

His finger grazed lightly over the thick, ugly scars running down his face, from the bridge of his nose to his cheekbone. Another one was longer—extending down almost to the edge of his jaw and Buck hated it.

All over the media he saw people celebrating these scars, congratulating them on their bravery thats marked by the permanent scars on their faces. Buck knows that some people find them heroic or something but all he sees is another flaw, another piece of him to hate. The bright red, angry shade of the scars contrast starkly with the pale pallor of his skin. He couldn’t even keep looking at himself for more than a few seconds before he was tying a soft, cloth mask over his face.

With things finally seeming to settle down, the department had deemed it okay for them to wear these reusable cloth masks instead of the hard, awful plastic ones they’d been issued. May had sewn some, with Harry’s help, for the entire family. She’d even made extra for Buck, though not after giving him an almost twenty minute lecture on why he shouldn’t be ashamed of the marks on his skin.

Buck didn’t believe her, but he was grateful for the extra masks.

The only time Buck had shown anyone the scars beneath the mask was Bobby. The older man understood Buck better than himself some days, so it wasn’t a surprise when he reassured him that he shouldn’t ashamed about the scars, but accepted his decision to continue wearing the masks anyway.

Buck was just absolutely terrified of anyone seeing him. Of Christopher seeing him and being scared because the awful scars that marked up his face made him look like a monster. Scared of Eddie seeing him looking like this and deciding he didn’t want him, finally coming to his senses and gong after a younger, prettier person to be with.

“Buck, baby,” Eddie’s hand brushed gently through his curls. “You gotta take that off while we sleep. You’ll smother yourself.”

Buck averted his eyes, trying to hide his shaking hands in the bedsheets when he felt Eddie’s fingers gently unhook the mask from his ear. His fingers were gentle as he pulled it off and Buck closed his eyes, unable to bear seeing the disgust or horror in Eddie’s eyes that he knew was there.

“Oh, mi vida, lo siento…” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, thick with emotion that made tears burn in the back of Buck’s eyes. 

Soft hands hesitantly brushed over the scar on his right cheek and Buck flinched away from the touch violently, turning his head and biting back a sob. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, breath hitching as tears started to drip down his face.

“Bebé, what do you mean?” Eddie asked softly. “Sorry for what.”

“I-I look like a monster.” Buck pressed his hand against his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears started to fall faster. 

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie murmured, his hand reaching out and grabbing Buck’s hand. “Hey, bebé, look at me, por favor?”

Buck did so slowly, reluctantly raising his head and opening his eyes to look at Eddie. Eddie, his lover, gazing at him with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes, with maybe a little sadness as well. “Evan, you’re the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on. Nothing will ever change that. You’re not a monster,” he continued, fingers brushing gently once again over the scars on Buck’s face. “You’re brave. Selfless. Kind. Gorgeous. Captivating.” He leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss. “You, Evan Buckley, are perfect.”

Buck sobbed softly, staring at Eddie through tear-glazed eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of love his boyfriend was showing him. Then he launched himself at him, letting the older man hold him tightly while he cried against his shoulder.

“Shhh…” Eddie shushed him comfortingly, one arm wrapped tightly around his torso while the other rubbed comfortingly along his back. “It’s okay, querido. You’re okay. I love you. You’re okay.”

Buck cried in Eddie’s arms for a long time before he finally quieted down, feeling a little shaky and drained from the leftover adrenaline and his crying session. He made no move to leave Eddie’s arms, though, pressing his face against his boyfriend’s neck and just enjoying being in the one place he hasn’t been able to be in months. 

“Is this why you kept putting off coming home?” Eddie asked quietly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.” Buck admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I-I thought Christopher would think I looked like a monster. Because of these disgusting scars on my face. I-I wouldn’t blame you but…” he trailed off, feeling his cheeks burn with shame. “I was selfish. I wanted to see you I-I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Oh, cariño,” Eddie pulled back a little, looking down at Buck and cupping his cheek with a broken look on his face. “I will never leave you, Evan. Ever. Not even when we’re old and gray and full of wrinkles. I love you. Christopher loves you. He’s not going to care what you look like.”

Buck had to look away. “I’m disgusting.” his breath hitched with another sob. “T-These scars on my face and my leg—”

“Hey, hey, Buck, no—” Eddie ducked his head until Buck met his eyes again. “There is nothing disgusting about you. These scars on your leg are reminders of how much you survived, remember?” he said, tracing a finger lightly along the back of Buck’s calf. “They’re a sign of your strength. And so are these.” Soft lips pressed gently against his cheek. “This shows me how brave and selfless you are—how kind. It shows me your strength, cariño, there is nothing disgusting about it.”

Hearing it come from Eddie and the soft way he cherished him made Buck believe his words just a little bit more. “I’m probably going to forget,” he warned, sniffing and pressing his forehead against Eddie’s. “You’re going to have to remind me a lot.

“I’ll always be here to remind you, mi amor,” Eddie promised, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. “I’m never leaving you.”

xxx

When the morning came, Buck was worried Eddie would find the scars as hideous as they truly were in the morning light. But Eddie knew Buck, and he was quick to smother him with kisses and reassurances that nothing had changed. He kept looking at Buck with this strange emotion in his eyes that made Buck blush, even though he wasn’t sure what it was.

It was rejuvenating being able to fall back into the morning routine he so dearly missed. The soft sizzle of the pancakes cooking on the stovetop while Eddie woke up Christopher and helped him with his morning exercises. The quiet giggles did more to ease his wounded soul than any medicine could ever hope to.

“Bucky!” Christopher’s screech had him turning around, barely getting to his knees in time to catch the young boy as he threw himself at him. Christopher’s arms clutched tightly around his neck and he was crying into his neck. “I-I missed you so much!”

“I know, buddy,” Buck whispered, unashamed of the tears on his own face, “I missed you, too. So much. I thought about you everyday, you know? Even in-between our FaceTime calls.”

“Are you back forever this time?” Christopher asked, his voice hitching against Buck’s ear.

“Forever.” Buck promised, closing his eyes briefly before meeting Eddie’s eyes when he opened them again. “I’m not leaving you two again.”

Christopher demanded to be held for several minutes longer, his face staying buried against Buck’s neck. Buck had a feeling the clinginess would last for a while—but he definitely wasn’t going to complain. Not when it meant he got to hold his favorite person in the world after months of being apart.

When Christopher finally leaned back, Buck tensed as he felt those small hands press against his cheeks. He watched anxiously as Christopher stared at his face with wide eyes, his hand carefully running down his cheek. Christopher’s bottom lip wobbled a little and tears started falling from his eyes again. “Did Bucky get hurt?”

Buck hesitated, glancing over at Eddie standing right in front of him for help.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie murmured, stepping forward and placing on hand on Christopher’s back and the other on Buck’s waist. “Bucky got hurt everyday while he was helping people. That’s why he’s got these scars.” he explained gently.

Christopher sniffed, silent for a moment before he asked. “Like from the tsunami?”

He was referring to the multitude of little, faded white scars that scattered Buck’s body from where he took the brunt of the injuries while shielding Christopher from danger and saving other people.

“Yeah, just like that, buddy,” Eddie kissed the top of Christopher’s head. “Bucky was worried you would be scared if you saw them.”

“I could never be scared of you, Bucky,” Christopher sweared vehemently, looking more serious than any nine-year-old had the right to be. He patted Buck’s cheek with one hand and smack a kiss on the other. “I think you look brave!” he declared. “Like Iron Man!”

“Is that so?” Buck chuckled wetly, blinking back the tears of relief. Eddie had told him, obviously, that he didn’t think Buck was hideous but—well, it was different, coming from a child. There was something about the earnest innocence about the declaration that settled his nerves and warmed his heart.

“Yup.” Chris nodded, as if that was that, the debate was settled. “Can we have pancakes now?”

Buck barked out a laugh, pressing a loud kiss against Christopher’s cheek before putting him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Of course, buddy, anything you want.”

“I just missed your cooking. Daddy hasn’t gotten any better.” Christopher explained to him patiently, raising himself up and squinting his eyes as if that would let him see the pancake stacked on the counter across the kitchen easier.

“Of course he hasn’t.” Buck teased, accepting the soft kiss from Eddie before he grabbed the pancakes and started setting them out for the three of them. “Anything else you missed about me? Or was it just my amazing cooking?”

Christopher scrunched up his face thoughtfully for a minute before nodding. “Your hugs. Daddy’s missed your hugs too.”

Strong arms wrapped gently around his waist and Buck felt Eddie rest his chin on his shoulder. “He’s right,” Eddie murmured, pressing a kiss against the exposed skin on his neck. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere for a long time.” Buck answered, twisting a bit and pressing a lingering kiss against Eddie’s lips. With paid vacation awaiting him and his family finally back at his side, Buck would finally allow himself to relax. Maybe now, everything would start to be alright again. A new normal—but Buck knew the three of them could weather anything the world threw at them.

Also HERE ON AO3

[dettiot]

beauty and the beast

Surprise, surprise, this got away from me! So enjoy a very long twist on your typical Beauty and the Beast AU. Because the formatting got all wonky and I couldn’t put in a cut, I deleted the original ask from the anon and just posted this separately. 

Humming softly to himself, Anakin looked over the pieces of wire and scraps of metal in the old mechanic shop. He was looking for something very special–something that would make the automaton he was creating just right–

“This is it!” he cried, plucking a quarter-meter circle of shiny gold metal from underneath a pile of rusted bolts.

The mechanic, a kindly old man, smiled a little. “Yes? Just what you need?”

Anakin nodded happily. “It will be perfect for the face of my … clock.” Because in his small village, his interest in mechanical men would not go over well with the people. So he told everyone he was building a new kind of clock.

“If it’s perfect, you should take it,” the mechanic said with a smile. He held up a hand to hold back Anakin’s protests. “I’ll never find a use for that, and you have a need for it. So you should take it.”

“Thank you!” Anakin said eagerly, tucking the metal under his arm and practically stumbling over his feet in his eagerness to get home. “Thank you so much!”

As he hurried home, thinking about his mother’s reaction to his automaton, Anakin did his best to block out the voices of the villagers. How they talked about how beautiful he was, how he was sure to marry the lord’s daughter, how odd he was. It bothered him to hear people talk like that about him, but … people would always talk, his mother told him.

Pushing open the door of the small building that was their home, his mother’s shop and his workshop, Anakin called out, “Mom? I’m home!”

Only silence greeted him, making Anakin frown. He looked around, stepping into Shmi’s shop, only to remember that she had told him about making a trip to the nearby town for some supplies.

With that question settled, Anakin got down to work on his automaton.

XXX

With a start, Anakin realized it was too dark to see. He sat up straight, stretching his back, and reached out to light a candle stub in an iron candlestick on his worktable.

His automaton was practically done. He couldn’t wait to show his–

“Mom?” he said aloud, suddenly realizing how late it was. She should have been home hours ago.

And he had a bad feeling about this.

Pulling on his cloak, Anakin dashed out into the night. A quick stop at the table to get their cantankerous horse, and Anakin set off on the path his mother always took to town.

Between the clouds and the trees, Anakin couldn’t see the moon. A stiff breeze was starting to blow, heavy with the scent of rain. He nudged his horse along. “Come on, Artoo, keep going. We’ve got to find Mom.”

It had started to rain when Anakin spied the rusty gates that marked the abandoned castle. It had once been the home of the village’s original lord, before the family line had died out. For as long as he could remember, the gates had been shut, overgrown with vines.

But now … the gate was ajar.

Perhaps his mother had taken shelter here? Although he couldn’t think why she would do something like that. She had always warned him to stay away from the castle. Like she was scared of it. But if something was wrong, his mother was practical enough to set aside her misgivings.

Besides, what choice did he have?

Anakin dismounted and pushed open the gate. He took the reins in one hand and led Artoo into the overgrown courtyard. The castle in front of him was probably beautiful once upon a time. Now, the stones were mostly gray, with splotches of white and yellow to show its original colors. Stones were missing from the facade and the windows were shuttered, while vines were draped over the whole castle.

Artoo snorted and stomped a foot, and Anakin stroked his mane. “I know, boy. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”  

Stepping up to the large doors, Anakin pushed them open and stepped inside. He coughed, the dust tickling his nose and throat. There was no light inside, so he could barely see the dim shapes around him. But he kept moving, because something inside him told him his mother was here.

“Mom? Are you here? It’s Anakin …” he called out, hearing his voice echo.

“Ani?”

“Mom!” he yelled, moving towards her voice. He ran down a flight of stone steps, into a cellar that was lined with … cells?

At the end of the room, a small light barely managed to push back the darkness enough for him to see his mother.

“Mom!” he said again, dashing to her and kneeling in front of her. “What happened to you? I’ve got to get you out of here!”

His mother’s warm, gentle brown eyes widened in fear. “No, Ani, no! You must go!”

He stared at her. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“GET OUT!”

Jerking to his feet, Anakin put himself between his mother and the voice, which was coming from … a woman?

Her hair was dark, swirling around her white face. Her body was thin and spindly and small, swallowed up by the large cape that seemed to float around her. But most chilling of all was the effect of her large, black eyes in her white face.

“You are intruding! Get out!” she bellowed, her voice loud and echoing.

“Ani, please,” his mother said, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

“No! What right do you have to lock up a poor woman in your dungeon?” Anakin asked.

The woman’s face twisted into something remote and powerful. “She stole. For that, she deserves imprisonment.”

“I picked a rose for myself,” Shmi said. “I’m sorry! It was just so beautiful!”

Anakin didn’t know how anything could grow on this estate, but he knew his mother. She was the kindest, warmest, best woman on earth. She didn’t deserve this. And he wouldn’t let her suffer.

“Take me instead,” Anakin said, stepping forward and ignoring his mother’s gasp.

The woman looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Agreed.” She stepped forward, a cold feeling coming off her as she moved around Anakin to unlock the cell holding his mother.

“Ani, no–no–” his mother begged. He had enough time to reach out and take her hand, squeezing it, telling her silently how much he loved her.

The woman dragged his mother away, Anakin staring at Shmi’s face until it was gone.

“Hello.”

Anakin nearly jumped six feet in the air before turning around towards the sound of the voice.

Which was … a candleabra?

That was smiling at him?

“Please excuse the mistress. We … we don’t receive many guests,” the candleabra said. “But come, come! Allow me to show you to your room!”

A throat cleared, only for a mantle clock to hop into view. “Excuse me, that is my job, if you don’t mind, Lumiere.”

“Ah, yes, mon ami, of course!” the candleabra said cheerfully.

The clock bowed, which made Anakin want to pick it up and examine it. To figure out how it was possible for clocks and candleabras to talk and move!

“Good evening, sir, I am the butler of the household. You may call me Cogsworth. And you are … ?”

“Anakin,” he replied, at a loss for words.

“Excellent! Charming name, sir, if you don’t mind me saying. Come, follow me,” Cogsworth said, hopping along towards the stairs.

Lumiere did the same, the metallic clangs ringing through the chamber every time he made contact with the stone floor. Shrugging his shoulders, Anakin followed them, wondering just what was happening to him.

XXX

After two days in the castle, Anakin thought he might go crazy with boredom. Or curiosity.

He was well-fed at every meal, waited on by Lumiere, Cogsworth, and the teapot named Mrs. Potts who reminded him a bit of his mom. He was provided with old-fashioned but very fine clothes–clothes he constantly worried about messing up. But otherwise, he was left alone. He hadn’t seen the woman who lived here in the castle. All he heard was her roars.

What had happened to her? She might be small, but something about her made her seem so much larger and more commanding than her size. And there was something about her that seemed to be in such pain …

Without anything to do, Anakin found himself wandering through the castle, exploring. Taking in the broken furniture and destroyed paintings. The library with books spread across every surface, piles of wax showing where candles had burned down to the end of their wicks.

The west wing was off-limits, Cogsworth told him. But Anakin wasn’t about to let a whole wing of the castle remain unexplored.

And when he drew near a room and heard voices, he wasn’t above doing some eavesdropping.

“Mistress, please,” Cogsworth said. Anakin could practically picture the clock putting its hands together in a begging position. “You must try.”

“What’s the use?” she asked, her voice managing to echo in yet another piece of magic in this castle.

“Padme, you can’t give up like this,” Lumiere said.

Padme? Was that her name? Anakin had never met anyone with a name like that. It was … interesting. Unusual.

“I will not manipulate him. I will not make promises I cannot keep,” Padme said, sounding aloof and regal but very sad.

“It’s not manipulation,” Lumiere said. “You’re simply getting to know Anakin. He’s a very kind, caring young man. It would do you good to talk with someone, my lady. To not be so concerned with the whole world.”

“Please, Mistress, for us,” Cogsworth said. “There’s so little time left … what is the harm in trying?”

Padme heaved a sigh. “I suppose I have no choice, then?”

“Don’t sound so sad, my lady!” Lumiere said. “He’s also a romantic. He gave himself up to save his mother … he looks quite stunning in his new clothes …”

Anakin felt his cheeks flush. As his mother always said, eavesdroppers deserved what they heard. He drew away, feeling his curiosity stir as he wondered at the conversation.

What had Lumiere meant, there was so little time left?

XXX

To Anakin’s surprise, Padme entered the dining room just as he was sitting down to the table. She wore black, her hair loose around her shoulders and her eyes still dark. But even though she held her chin up, he thought she sounded nervous when she said, “May I join you?”

“Of course …” Anakin said, suddenly realizing he should have stood up when she entered the room. He stumbled over his feet as he got up. To cover his embarrassment, he said, “It’s your castle, after all.”

Without a word, she took a chair at the end of the table. Anakin sat back down, shifting a little.

“I … I hope you have been comfortable,” Padme said after a few minutes of silence.

“Um, yes,” Anakin said, poking at his plate of food. “Thank you.”

He started to eat, glancing at her as she sipped from a glass. Other than a few bites of bread, she didn’t appear to eat anything.

And he wondered what had happened to her.

“I suppose the servants have told you about me,” Padme said.

Shaking his head, he did his best to smile. “No, not really. I’ve asked a lot of questions, but they haven’t answered them.”

A smile appeared on her face as fast as quicksilver before it was gone. “My name is Padme.”

He nodded and smiled. “I’m Anakin. In case you didn’t know.”

That smile appeared again, lasting a little longer, and Anakin felt his heart give a queer thump. “Yes, I know,” Padme said.

For a few moments, they sat in silence as Anakin ate and Padme sipped from her glass.

“My … my mother told me once that the lords of the village used to live here,” Anakin said, his words a bit halting. “In the old days. Before the current lord’s family took over.”

Something shifted in her dark eyes, creating an expression of regret. “Are they … are they kind to the people?”

Anakin shrugged. “They’re all right, I guess. When there was a drought two years ago, they didn’t kick out any villagers. Their daughter gives a lot of charity to anyone who needs it.”

“It’s so little,” Padme said, looking off into the distance.

“What more would they want to do?”

“Help the people lift themselves up, improving their lives at all times, instead of just helping them in hard times,” Padme said, a spark of passion lighting her up.

He opened his mouth to argue, only to stop and consider her words. “Huh.”

“What?” she said, her voice sounding cold.

“No–it’s a good idea. I never thought about it. That lords could be different,” Anakin said.

“They can be,” Padme said, thawing a little. “Those who think long-range, instead of just squeezing the people for all they can get out of them.”

Raising his eyebrows, Anakin looked at her. “Who are you?”

There was something about Padme … he didn’t understand her, how she could roar and bellow, while also speaking so strongly about people. It didn’t fit.

She rose to her feet. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

And before Anakin could say anything more, Padme swept out of the room.

For a long moment, he stared after her, wondering what had made her leave. Hoping he hadn’t offended her. It was strange, how much he was starting to care. The last thing he should do is care about his captor. But … he did.

Even though he missed his mother. Even though he didn’t know how long he would be staying here. He wanted to help Padme.

XXX

Almost without him realizing it, the days began adding up into weeks, time moving faster and becoming more pleasant. Because Padme began spending more time with him, filling up his hours with interesting conversations and unusual feelings.

He knew she was smart and liked to read. But as they talked, he realized just how brilliant she was. She had something to say about anything, but especially what it meant to be a good ruler, to lead people, to protect and provide for large groups.

Padme wasn’t afraid to challenge him. To make him think. So many people in his village seemed to think he was dumb, just because he was handsome. But Padme … she wanted him to be informed, to talk about so many things he had never really considered.

So he found himself opening up to her. Talking about his mother. About how he felt out of place in his village and wondered where he might fit in. He even told her about the automaton he was building, and how he loved to tinker and fix things.

And the day after he told her that, Padme was different. She was almost … giddy. Because after lunch, she asked him to follow her. And of course, Anakin did. Right outside the castle, through the overgrown gardens.

A cold wind whipped around him, making Anakin draw his cloak tighter around himself.

“Are you cold?” Padme asked, seeming not to notice how her own cloak was blown open by the wind and her hair swirled around her.

“A little … I’m always cold,” he admitted.

Padme nodded, and he almost sensed her filing away that piece of information. He didn’t really know why, and he didn’t have much time to think about it, because Padme drew up in front of a dilapidated building. It was tall, with large windows flanking its door, and Anakin wondered what the structure was for.

From underneath her cloak, Padme drew a rusty key and put it in the door’s lock. She turned it, but didn’t open the door. Instead, she turned to face him. “I thought you might like to see this building.”

“All right …” Anakin said slowly, not really sure where this was going.

She gestured for him to open the door, and knowing that it would probably be at least a bit warmer inside–it would give them cover from the wind–Anakin turned the knob and stepped inside, feeling his mouth drop in shock.

It … it was like the mechanic’s shop in his village, but much, much larger. As far as the eye could see, there were tools and supplies. Pieces of metal in all sizes, wires and springs and gears, long worktables stretching along the walls and open space for experiments.

“What–what?” Anakin asked, his head swiveling around before he turned to face Padme.

“When you talked about the machine you were building … I remembered this workshop and thought you might like to use it. To let you work on projects while you’re here,” Padme said, her voice soft and almost shy.

“Really?” he asked, beaming at her. “Padme, this is amazing!”

For the first time, he saw color on her face, as two soft pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “You like it?”

“I love it. I can’t wait to get started!” Anakin said, unable to hold back his excitement. He looked at Padme, and then, suddenly, he was hugging her.

He hadn’t realized how much bigger he was than her. Because in his arms, she felt so incredibly small and delicate and fragile. He wondered if he was hurting her, because she was standing so straight and stiff. But then, her body melted against his, in a way that made his blood light on fire.

Her hair was against his cheek, and Anakin turned his head just the slightest bit, to realize it wasn’t black like he thought. No, it was a deep, rich, warm brown. It smelled like something warm and spicy and comforting. Like cinnamon.

What was he doing?

Anakin jerked back, knowing his own face was flushed. He didn’t know what to do with his hands and ended up shoving them into his pockets. “Um, thank you,” he said, hearing his mother’s voice in his head, reminding him of his manners.

“You’re welcome,” Padme said, her voice higher-pitched than normal. Her face was still flushed. She drew her cloak around her. “I … I’ll let you begin to work. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself.”

And with her cloak and hair whirling around her, Padme left.

Even though he was itching to get started, Anakin couldn’t help watching through the window as Padme walked back to the castle. Her spine was straight, her head held high, but … but Anakin thought she seemed sad. Sadder than he had ever seen her before.

XXX

As the days went on, Padme’s sadness seemed to linger. She tried to act like she wasn’t sad, by smiling at him some and asking him questions and listening when he talked. But Anakin could tell that there was something wrong.

No matter what he tried, it didn’t seem to help her. He asked her questions about leadership and ruling, doing his best to draw out all her knowledge. He offered to go walking with her around the castle’s grounds, despite the cold.

And then Anakin had an idea. The perfect way to make Padme smile enough to make her sadness go away.

He got to work in his shop, glorying in all the supplies he could ever need. It meant missing a few meals with Padme and a few sleepless nights, but it was worth it, after four days, to have created the perfect present.

At dinner that night, he hurried into the dining room, checking his pocket for his surprise. Padme looked at him and smiled for a moment, before her face settled back into sadness.  

“Padme?” he asked, unable to wait. Wanting that unhappy expression banished from her face.

“Yes?” she asked quietly, only glancing at him.

“I have something for you,” he said, stepping towards her.

That prompted a reaction. She slowly looked up at him, something in her eyes that almost made him hesitate. But he plowed ahead.

“Here,” he said quickly, drawing his present out of his pocket and setting it down in front of her.

Padme stared at the mechanical rose in front of her. Her hand lifted and reached out, but didn’t touch it.

“It’s a mechancial rose,” Anakin explained, his words coming fast. “It’s in its bud state right now, but if you press this button right here …”

Anakin pressed a small button at the base of the flower, and Padme gasped as the rose’s petals slowly unfurled into a full-blown bloom.

“So you can always have a rose, no matter what time of year it is,” Anakin said, watching Padme. Seeing her soft, pale skin–not white and cold like it had looked the first time he saw her. Her brown, curly hair, not the wild dark mass he remembered.

And her eyes–not dark holes in her face–but brown and full of emotion and warmth and fire.

How had he not realized how beautiful she was?

“Anakin,” Padme said. Her voice shook as one fingertip brushed against a petal.

“Eventually, I want to add fragrance as the flower blooms,” Anakin said, his palms feeling clammy and his throat as dry as a desert. “And a timer, so the rose will bloom slowly, like a real flower. Do–do you like it?”

It felt like it took a decade for her eyes to slowly meet his. She stared at him, and her tongue darted out to lick her lips, making Anakin lean towards her.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

The castle was full of magic. Anakin had accepted that, even though he couldn’t scientifically explain it. And right now, it was like all the magic was increased, making this moment last and matter.

And then, with a sharp, dissonant screech, Padme pushed her chair back and stood up. “I release you.”

Anakin stared as Padme turned and walked towards one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. “What?”

Had he heard her say she released him? What did that mean?

Without facing him, Padme said, “You are free. There is no longer any debt to repay. Your horse is in the stable–you may leave whenever you like.”

His heart plummeted. He didn’t–he couldn’t–why was she–how could he–

“Please go,” Padme whispered, her arms wrapping around her torso.

Mrs. Potts appeared in the room, gently nudging against Anakin’s ankle. “It’s getting late. You need your rest, young man.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but the pleading look Mrs. Potts gave him made his shoulders slump. He nodded and turned, walking out of the dining hall. And as he left, he couldn’t help looking back at Padme, who was now surrounded by her servants. Their faces were worried for their mistress.

They weren’t the only one who was worried.

XXX

The next day passed like a dream. When he woke up, after a night of little sleep, the hatstand helped him dress like normal. But it wasn’t a normal day.

Cogsworth greeted him in the front hall. “Good morning, sir,” he said, his voice mournful. “Your horse is saddled and waiting for you. There is a saddlebag with food and drink packed for your journey.”

“Cogsworth–I don’t need that. I don’t need to go,” he said. “I …”

The words died as he realized he didn’t want to talk to Cogsworth. He wanted to talk to Padme.

Lumiere hopped to stand beside Cogsworth. “Farewell, mon petit,” he said, smiling sadly at Anakin. “Bonne chance.”

“Hurry along now,” Mrs. Potts said. “Your mother must be waiting for you.”

There was nothing he could say. They wouldn’t let him see Padme. And they were all just household items, but he wouldn’t want to cross them. So Anakin slowly turned and walked out of the castle.

The skies were filled with gray clouds and he shivered in the cold air. Artoo tossed his head and whinnied as Anakin approached.

“Hi, boy,” he said softly, stroking Artoo’s nose before mounting him. Anakin looked up at the castle, searching each and every window for any sign of Padme. But the windows were empty, just like his heart, and he took the reins and gently urged Artoo into a walk.

He did not look back. He kept his gaze locked on the space between Artoo’s ears, not paying any attention to his surroundings. Fortunately, Artoo knew the way.

When he drew up in front of the small house, he gave his head a shake and tried to look on the bright side. He was home. He could see his mother again. He could …

“Ani!”

His mother’s voice had never sounded sweeter. Anakin smiled through some tears as he watched her run out of the house and into his arms.

“Oh, Ani!” she said. Anakin hugged her back tightly.

She pulled away and cupped his face, her fingers stroking against his skin. “How did you get away? Are you all right?”

“I … she let me go,” Anakin said softly, leaning into her touch.

“She let you go?” Shmi said, sounding shocked. “What?”

He shook his head and stepped back. “I don’t know why. But she did and now I’m home.” He did his best to smile, and his mother smiled back, but she still looked confused.

“Let me put Artoo in the stable and you can catch me up on everything that’s happened,” Anakin said, patting his mother’s shoulder.

“All right, Ani,” she said, her face lighting up. “I’ll start cooking some lunch for us.”

And just like that, he was back home. The village hadn’t changed, according to his mother. On his first visit, he saw that she was right. Nothing had changed.

But he had. He saw everything with new eyes. He could see how unfair life was, how much it was affected by chance and luck. And the lord of the village, who was supposed to protect the people, didn’t seem to do anything to make everyone be equal.

It made him realize how much Padme had changed him. How much he had learned.

And it made him miss her even more.

One night, he was poking at his food when his mother sat down beside him. “Ani. Why don’t you go back?”

“What? Go back where?” he asked, feeling his heart skip a beat.

Shmi gave him a long, fond look. “Go back to her. Because you love her.”

Anakin swallowed. “She–she took you prisoner.”

“Because I stole,” his mother said. “I knew that. Perhaps it was too harsh, the punishment she exacted, but it was fair. And in the moment, I was scared of her. But now that I think about it … I think she’s lonely. She needs someone.”

Shmi looked at him again. “I think she needs you.”

“Mom,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, squeezing his hand back and then reaching out with her free hand to ruffle his hair. “But you miss her. I can tell. So you should go back to her and see if she loves you as much as you love her.”

He rose to his feet and pulled his mother in for a hug. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I will see you again.”

His mother gently patted his back, then pulled away from him. “Go ahead and pack. Don’t forget to take your automaton–you’ll want to finish it. I noticed you hadn’t worked on it since you returned.”

Smiling sheepishly, Anakin nodded and started moving, gathering his things and carefully packing his automaton. With everything loaded in a small cart and Artoo hitched up, there was no need to wait.

And he didn’t want to wait. He would miss his mother, but … but she was right. He loved Padme. And she needed him.

This time, he wouldn’t let anyone stand between himself and Padme.

XXX

The gates were closed when he approached the castle, but he didn’t care. He tried to open them, but they wouldn’t budge. So leaving Artoo and the cart at the gate, Anakin climbed the gates. He tore his shirt and nearly fell a meter when his cloak caught on some pickets.

But he didn’t care. He was nearly there.

Anakin pushed open the doors and stepped into the castle. It felt cold–colder than it had ever felt before. He walked through the main hall, not seeing any of the servants.

It felt wrong.

He had only gone into the west wing once, when he had eavesdropped on Padme with Lumiere and Cogsworth. But now he climbed the stairs and stepped towards the room that he thought was Padme’s.

When he stepped into the room, he shivered. It was so cold …

At the far end, beside a large window, there was a low, wide bed. There was a small lump in the middle, barely visible in the flickering candelight. As he approached the bed, he realized it was Lumiere.

But then he saw Padme, and any thought of anything else fled his mind.

Her cheeks were flushed and sweat poured down the sides of her face. Her hair curled damply against her forehead, and her eyes were moving fast under her closed eyelids.

“Padme?” he breathed out, leaning over the bed.

“Mon petit?” Lumiere said, his flames going higher to see better.

“Lumiere, what happened to her?” Anakin asked, kneeling on the bed to be closer to her. He brushed her hair back, practically seeing steam as his cold fingers touched her hot skin.

The candleabra sniffed. “Oh, mon petit … my lady is cursed. An evil wizard condemned her to always be seen as a monster, even though she is beautiful and kind and caring, full of ideas to save the world. The curse could only be broken when someone could see past her appearance … and when she could learn to love one person over everyone else in the world.”

It didn’t make sense to him, but Anakin knew that Padme was sick. “Why is she so hot?”

“The last petal is ready to fall,” Lumiere said, gesturing to the table on the other side of the bed, the table he hadn’t noticed.

Under a glass dome, a faded rose floated in the air. A single petal hung onto the stem, looking ready to fall as Lumiere said.

But what caught Anakin’s attention was the mechanical rose next to the enchanted rose. The rose that was open, in full bloom.

“She kept it,” Anakin whispered.

“She did,” Lumiere said sadly.

Anakin turned back to look at Padme. Her eyes were open in narrow slits, but he could see the warm brown there. He slid his hand under her head, lifting her closer to him.

“Padme,” he said softly. “Padme, I’m here.”

“Anakin …” she breathed out. Her lips quirked, and her tongue flicked out to smooth over the dry, flaky skin. “I get to see you … one more time …”

“No,” he said, stroking her hair with his free hand. “I can’t lose you, Padme.”

Her head tilted a little, her eyes connecting with his. And in that moment, Anakin let himself fall for her.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“What?” she whispered, her eyes widening.

“I love you,” he said again, smiling at her. “I love you so much, Padme.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers. Her lips pressed back for a moment, before she jerked away.

“Padme!” he yelled, not knowing what to do as her body convulsed. He reached for her shoulders, holding on, watching as light seemed to burst from her body.

The light lifted her up, making Anakin’s eyes squint. He heard noises, heard voices. It sounded like an old man wailing in despair and disappointment.

And then Padme landed back on the bed, breathing slowly, her eyes closed.

No longer was she unnaturally pale or fever-flushed. Her cheeks were a soft pink, the rest of her skin smooth and soft peach in color. Her hair hung in perfect curls around her face, the brown a pleasing compement to her skin.

Her eyes opened slowly, and they were brown, too. Brown like he remembered them being their last night together, but–but different. Prettier, softer, kinder.

“Padme?” he whispered, stroking back one of her curls.

She slowly blinked as she stared up at him. And then, moving faster than he thought she could move, Padme was sitting up and throwing her arms around him.

“I love you, Anakin! I love you, too–so much, Anakin, so much,” she said, pressing her face against his shoulder.

Then she pulled back and gazed at him, her fingers hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek. “I love you,” she repeated.

Anakin smiled slowly, then turned his head to lightly press a kiss to her fingertips. Padme drew in a breath, and Anakin slid his arm around her waist to bring her closer.

“Oh, Mistress!”

“My lady!”

“We’re real again!”

The voices of Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts and Lumiere broke into their own little world, and Anakin and Padme both looked at the now-human servants. Anakin smiled and nodded to them, but then looked down at Padme.

Her eyes were filled with tears as she gazed at her servants–her friends. Anakin drew her close and rubbed her back.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Padme told them, her eyes holding each of theirs for a long moment. “Now, if you don’t mind … I’d like to be alone with Anakin.”

Cogsworth blushed, Mrs. Potts smiled, and Lumiere smirked. But they all did as asked, and Padme turned to Anakin and smiled.

“So you’re a lady, huh?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“I suppose,” she said, wrinkling her nose up in a way that was utterly delightful. “But I don’t think that matters. I … I’m just Padme.”

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said, resting his forehead lightly against hers.

Her nose gently brushed against his as she moved closer to him. “And you’re everything to me.”

Anakin looked at her for a moment, and then leaned in to kiss her. To kiss her with everything he felt.

So although Anakin and Padme’s story has come down through history of the love of a beauty for a beast, with some unfortunate changes from the real story, it was truly a love story about looking past first impressions. And really, isn’t that a better story?

End.