#kind of walks into important parts of the war without knowing

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 | feyd-rautha

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: an arranged marriage with feyd-rautha in the name of reconciling your houses was something you were not expecting, neither was the soft and light way he seemed to behave towards you and only you. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 3k —warnings: arranged marriage, feyd being gentle and calm because the reader is the love of his life (as it was written), probably ooc!feyd (sorry but i just love to see the most savage and feral men fall on their knees for their s/o)

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

Your arranged marriage to Feyd-Rautha had been the reason for House Atreides and Harkonnen to strengthen their alliance, ensuring that neither would stab each other in the back, which was most expected from the Baron. Your Houses had been wavering on a faint thread that separated you from a war and this marriage arrangement had pacted a reconciliation. It had been your parents' idea and obeying your parents was the most important thing for you, right after protecting your family and indeed that was what you were doing, guarding your family.

Your twin brother did not like the idea, he was not very fond of Feyd-Rautha and his House, moreover, he found him rather... repulsive. For Feyd was a savage, a ruthless and bloodthirsty man.

However, he had to admit that, next to him, you would be basically untouchable, after all, it was like having a guard dog, the most possessive and protective dog, a dog that was ready to kill and ravage for you if necessary.

“He's scary.” Paul's voice echoed inside your head as together you walked along the vast hallways of the Harkonnen palace, at the end of it, Feyd-Rautha stood, engaged in a conversation with your parents, forever as stiff and somber as he had been since you had first met him.

“Just look at him, you'll have to wake up next to him for the rest of your life.” Your brother insisted, throwing you a knowing and concerned look. “We can fix this without you having to marry that man, sister. There must be something—”

“Enough.” you interrupted him, finally dragging your eyes from your betrothed to your anxious brother pacing beside you, you made an effort to offer him a reassuring, soft smile, grateful that he was always so caring and concerned about you and your well-being. “There's nothing else we can do. You know about my visions and what they foresee. Our House will not endure if I do not accept this offer.”

“We will do whatever it takes to survive for now.” You added, holding Paul's gaze, noting the sadness and pity behind his dark eyes, and like the good sister you were, you sighed softly, leaning closer to him to bring him some kind of reassurance. “Our turn will come to make our move and win, brother.”

“Whatever it takes.” He echoed, nodding his head, fingers brushing your clasped hand around his forearm, as you were accustomed to do when you walked side by side.

“The marriage will take place two weeks from now.” The Duke's voice gave out the news once you were all inside the assembly room, with the Baron at the head of the table, of course, looking uncharacteristically approving and pleased to hear the announcement.

The massive man showed his approval with a hint of a phantom, twisted smile, plump fingers taping the edge of the black table in front of him. “We will have the princess as a guest in our home for a week and then the na-Baron will visit her home for the last week, prior to her coming to live here.”

He planned the whole thing and there was absolutely no one in the room who had the idiotic courage to be against his command, so, it was settled.

Once you said goodbye to your family and gave a tight and emotional hug to your brother, you were left alone in the dark and gigantic planet of the Harkonnen family, feeling like an outsider, like a small prey surrounded by bloodthirsty predators. Although, the place possessed an indescribable and incomparable beauty, the sun was black, and the light that irradiated was whitish, giving it a beautiful contrast with all the black buildings rising majestically. But the place was rather... depressing, quiet and somewhat eerie, it was nothing like your home.

You soon felt out of place, and everyone who looked at you could see it too. It was as if you had some kind of golden aura, glowing among all the darkness and gloom of the place.

Feyd-Rautha watched you attentively, analyzing every expression and emotion you let be shown across your face, catching the look your eyes possessed, that special little gleam that flashed in your orbs as you admired Giedi Prime as if it were one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life, his home.

“Do you like it here, my lady?” His husky, raspy voice managed to snap you out of your trance, and your heart skipped a beat once you trailed your gaze from the horizon beneath the balcony to him, meeting his deep, dark gaze. He always seemed to look at you with those eyes, captivated, as if you were some form of strange spectacle.

And indeed you were, you stood in perfect contrast to the planet, your eyes were bright, lively, your aura was vivacious and hopeful. And because of that, he liked to look at you, study your face, your body language, every little reaction you had in response to something. You were fascinating.

Whenever you entered any room, his deep blue eyes were pulled to you like a magnet, drawn to orbit around you like his planet circling the dark sun.

Feyd noticed out of the corner of his eye how your hands clasped lightly around the balcony fence in front of you, skin contrasting against the blackness of the material. 

You nodded your head very slowly, twisting your body just enough to be able to look him directly in the face, big eyes looking up at him, not with fear, but with expectation. “I do.”

Even your voice was the opposite of his, keeping that soft and delicate tone, as elegant as you.

He seemed satisfied with your positive response, and so, he dared to lean against the balcony fence right next to you, but careful not to cause you to feel too uncomfortable or intruded upon. His eyes never left you for a second and he was quite pleased that you were bold enough to hold his powerful and intimidating gaze.

“Good, it will soon become your home too.” Feyd answered you, in a tone that oscillated between amusement and fascination, you didn't quite know how to decipher the expression on his face either, naturally.

He was very complicated to read, even if you tried extra hard, the many tutoring and lessons with Lady Jessica didn't seem to do much use, with him. Perhaps because he made you feel unnerved, he made your soul tremble like no one could, stepping beyond your walls and standing where none of your senses seemed to work. Where the eye could not see.

“Are you mocking me?” Still, you had the courage to ask him that bold question, one eyebrow rising on your forehead and your head twisting slightly, defiant face and all.

Your bravery made him laugh slightly this time, a noise that was heard almost unnaturally, with a small crooked smile on his lips that looked all too unusual and strange on him. For not even his strongest and most powerful enemies had had the courage to stand in front of him and challenge him like you were doing right now. You were a fierce girl. And he liked that.

“I wouldn't be likely to mock you, my lady.” Feyd-Rautha replied calmly, his tone of voice the exact same, as if you were a spectacle. Your eyes lowered to his hand, which snaked slowly to the edge of the balcony fence, fingers stroking the smooth surface. “I'm just stating the obvious. You'll be living here with me soon. It will be our home and you will reign with me when it's my turn.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly at his response, not yet quite convinced that he would behave so calm and composed with you, when not more than two days ago you had seen him slicing men to pieces in the arena. “You are not bothered by me invading your space?”

You asked that question because you knew how... eccentric men usually behaved, you could see it in basically every man with any power you had ever met, in the so many meetings with the Duke back home. You could see how they treated their wives, how they looked at them and how they talked to them, as if they were dealing with a servant. You feared this marriage was like that too.

Even your parents' marriage was broken, since Duke Leto kept close to his heart another woman who was not Lady Jessica, he did not love her as he loved that unknown woman. You had grown up seeing an empty and cold marriage, merely to fulfill a duty.

You understood that your marriage would also have that basis, and therefore, you knew that duty was the death of love. But for some silly, innocent reason, you wanted to think there might be love here. As the naive, young girl that you were.

Feyd-Rautha shrugged, not taking much interest in the matter of the question, “You'll be my wife, my space is your space.”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw that his answer pleased you. You could begin to understand that to him the whole arranged marriage thing wasn't as important as it was to you, or maybe it was, but it didn't seem to bother him or disagree.

“Does this marriage bother you?” It was his turn to ask, staring down at you, noticing how beautifully your skin reflected the pale natural light of the black sun. He could see how frustrated you were now, to be there, with him. “Does it bother you to be my wife?”

You sighed heavily, peeling your eyes from Feyd-Rautha and returning them to the beauty of the landscape below, pondering the questions. His dark eyes followed your every movement as your body turned forward again, hands gripping the balcony fence as if your life depended on it.

“Do you care much for my opinion of you?” You decided to answer him with another question and that seemed to annoy him for his frown deepened and his fingers halted on the fence, devoting himself to glaring at you with his azure eyes, mirroring the pallid light of the gloomy sun.

“Woman, I will marry you and live by your side for the rest of my life, of course your opinion is important.” He took a couple of steps closer to you as he spoke, hand closer and closer to yours, managing to make you even more nervous. “Don't speak nonsense, it doesn't suit you. You're a smart girl.”

Seeing the expression on your face, he leaned even closer and out of the corner of your eye you watched as his hand rose to your face, resting on your chin and turning it ever so gently for you to look at him, but your eyes lowered, fleeing from his.

It seemed astonishing to him that you didn't even flinch away when you sensed the approach of his hand to your face, as if it wasn't the same hand that had slaughtered so many and slit so many necks by the same motion.

“Don't take your eyes off me.” He demanded in a low, raspy tone of voice, you could feel his breath brush against your face. “Look at me.”

When he whispered your name in that delicate, nearly pleading tone, you finally summoned the courage to look at him, allowing him to cradle your chin between his fingers and allowing him to be so close to you that you felt suffocated by the warmth of his body against yours.

“You fear me?”

He asked in that tone of voice, whispering, silently asking you to have mercy on him, not to fear him as everyone usually feared him, not to see him as the monster everyone saw, but as your husband, your protector and your lover.

He saw how your eyes watered slightly as fear peered into your usual stoic, cold face, and Feyd-Rautha was used to beholding that face, was used to fear, because it was always the last look of his enemies.

“I'm afraid. Of leaving home, of living on an unknown planet, of marrying someone I don't know.” Then you shook your head softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “But I am not afraid of you, Feyd-Rautha.”

“You're very bold... and emotional.” He whispered in a disapproving but gentle voice, fingers tracing barely a caress along your lower lip before he reached up and dried the couple of tears that had managed to escape from your pretty eyes. At the closeness, you could begin to see through the mask he always carried, hiding his emotions. “You can't let yourself look like this in front of your enemies, it will make you appear weak.”

“I can't let myself look like this in front of my future husband?” his dark eyes lowered to your lips as you modulated the question, pupils dilating slightly. You swallowed as you saw desire and lust darken his orbs even more when you referred to him as your husband. You sniffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your outburst of emotions. “I'm s—sorry. You shouldn't see me like this, my lord.”

“Don't apologize.” He again reprimanded you in that passive-aggressive tone of his, like a hiss of a snake, shaking his head a little. Even after he wiped away your little tears, his hands remained in the same place, cupping your face, each of his thumbs resting on your flushed cheekbones.His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against your skin, sending shivers all over your body beneath their path. “You can be like this only with me, you understand? You can trust me, I want you to trust me.” His fingers took a lock of your hair and pulled it away from your face, running it carefully behind your ear. “But I really don't like to see you cry, my wife-to-be.”

After barely a second of silence with his azure eyes again flicking down to your parted lips, he spoke again, muttering, his raspy voice indicating that perhaps it hurt his throat to talk like that. “Pretty girls like you should cry out of pleasure only.”

He studied your face once more, not missing the way you blushed at his open flirtation and suggestive words, how you bit your lower lip, pupils expanding in thick blackness. You weren't used to so much attention, let alone men saying those kinds of words to you, it was evident. You were so innocent that it provoked a rare feeling of tenderness in Feyd-Rautha.

Perhaps it would be the closest thing to an act of consolation you would get from him and it was likely the only time in his life he had ever done that.

Promptly, you managed to make him smile again. “You Atreides are so strange and delicate... but then again, you will soon be Harkonnen, the prettiest na-Baroness, my pretty little wife.”

From his voice, his careful choice of words and the way he was looking at you, you expected him to kiss you right there —perhaps that was what you wanted, amidst all the tumult of emotions that shook your little heart, beating in rumbling noises inside your chest, pumping fiery blood through your veins.

But after a few seconds, he pulled his hands away from your face and backed away from you, taking a few steps back and offering you a look that you managed to perceive as soft rather than harsh. You knew that he was controlling himself well in maintaining a good demeanor, perhaps because his uncle had ordered him to do so; to do his best to make a good impression and not bring shame to the family. And also because he wanted you to have a good image of him, he was a prideful man, he was used to boast of his virtues and his power, and he was above all, protective of his own person and his glory.

He made a short gesture with his head pointing to the open balcony door, his hands clasping together behind his back pragmatically, as if he were presenting himself in front of a superior. “Now come, pretty girl, I'll show you the palace myself. You're future home.”

You walked towards him, a little smile curving your lips, the first smile on your face during the entire conversation, and he admired it in all it's glory.

“You don't have to be all stiff when you're with me, Feyd.” You eyed his posture with light eyes as you passed him and made your way inside the guest room with graceful steps, him following close behind.

He wasn't very fond of being addressed by name directly, of having his name used so freely, but the way you pronounced his name made him so utterly proud to be called that, he suddenly was wishing you would just call him that, in that tone of voice, tongue savoring his name as if it were the most delightful thing to say.

You turned to look at him for a few seconds, your tone of voice becoming reassuring, something he wasn't quite used to, yet he heard and savored it as if it were the sweetest thing in the world.

“If you can see me cry, then I can see you relaxed. It is only fair, no?”

Feyd-Rautha received your words positively, causing him to deepen his breathing into a snorting chuckle, eyes sparkling with amusement now behind your back.

“I'll try for you.” His response made you smile once more.

[beautyofaphrodite]

My Personal “Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism”

You may have seen or heard of the “7 Pillars of Hellenism”. The creator of these pillars, Timothy Jay Alexander, is known to be extremely homophobic and bigoted, and therefore these pillars aren’t seen in a positive light by many Hellenic Polytheists, including myself.

That being said, personally, I like to have sort of guidelines to follow, and Alexander isn’t the only one to have created “moral pillars”. So I took inspiration from multiple sources, including @/hyakinthou-naos in one of their recent posts, to make my own pillars. These are things that are important to me, personally, and they may differ from yours if you have some. I chose to have 5 pillars as it is a number associated with Lady Aphrodite, and the pillars will be listed in alphabetical order.

Hekousios- Ε´κουσίος

ἑκούσιος translates to “free will” or “voluntary”. To me, this means to do things at your own pace, and to always have worship be a personal choice, not something put on someone.

Kharis - Χάρις

Kharis can be translated to “grace, kindness, goodwill, elegance, favour, joy, charity, beauty”, “reciprocity”, “grace, favor, goodwill”, or a reciprocal relationship with the Gods. To me, this means to not ask for things without offering something in return, to not take advantage of gifts from the Gods.

Periergia - Περιέργεια

Periergia translates to curiosity and is often associated with devotion to researching something. For me, this means to always be curious, open to new ideas, and never stop learning new things. It also means to never claim that I know everything, and be willing to research things I don’t know much about.

Symmakhia - Σύμμαχία

Symmakhia translates to “allyship”. It also happens to be an epithet of Lady Aphrodite! It is usually used in the context of military and war, but here, I am using this word in the context of allyship and support towards marginalized groups. Allyship is active, and so to me, this pillar means to show active support to those that are a part of marginalized or minority communities.

Xenia - Ξενία

Xenia is the concept of guest-friendship or hospitality. For me, this means kindness and hospitality towards those from all walks of life and lived experiences, as long as it is safe to do so.

[ivybucky]

First Time - b.b. x gn!reader

Summary: You have a habit of calling people by cute nicknames or monikers, and Bucky isn't sure why it made him feel so good.

a/n: I'm breaking my hiatus finally!!! this is just a cute lil fic somewhat based on first time by hozier without the thought-provoking underlying angst. 1.9k

Content/Warnings: tfaws!Bucky, fluff, pining, tfaws fight scenes, zemo mention, multiple Sam appearances, references to fights/violence, use of y/n, use of the nickname doll when referring to the reader, friends to lovers? (let me know if i'm forgetting anything)

Masterlist

Believe it or not, Bucky Barnes tried to not think about his past. 

Though his efforts to make amends were a work-in-progress, and his name was brought up in the press more often than he preferred, Bucky Barnes tried to think about his past as little as possible. 

The first time you called him James was the first time he had liked the way it sounded. You had smiled at him, sweet and welcoming, as Sam introduced the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you, James.” God, did it fall off your tongue in the nicest way. “Thank you for looking after birdbrain over here.” You giggled at Sam’s distant-sounding protest.

Bucky cracked a sideways smile, not being able to stop himself. “You can call me Bucky, doll.”

Your smile morphed into a sort of smirk, cheeks warming at the nickname he gave you. “Is that what you prefer?”

He hadn’t given it much thought anymore. He knew James as the person who enlisted in the military, the person who fell from the train following Captain America into the throws of war. James was the person who was Hydra’s plaything, the assassin, the monster he was so desperate to forget. Bucky was the charmer, the best friend of Steve Rogers, the swing dancer who had a habit of punching bullies(justified obviously). 

Now, he didn’t feel like either. Going by Bucky was the easiest option, since it was the part of him he was desperate to gain back. Talking to you however, he didn’t think he cared what he was called anymore. 

He gave you a soft grin, one that may have held a bit more meaning than flirtation. “I don’t mind either, you can call me whatever you want.”

—

The first time you called him by any kind of nickname was the day they went to Madripoor.

“Sammy! Buck!” You called their names as you waved big at them from the small airport hangar. 

Bucky tried to slow his heart as the pair walked closer to you. Sam let out a chuckle next to him, a teasing smile thrown his way. “Hope you don’t mind the extra company, Buck.”

With a frown and a grumble, Bucky widened his gait, the toe of his shoe catching on Sam’s, causing him to trip up momentarily. “Don’t call me that.”

He reached you first, allowing his smile wider further than before. “Hi Y/N, what’re you doin’ here?”

You placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder, rubbing back and forth. “It’s good to see you too,” you chuckled. “Sam told me what you guys are doing with Zemo. He thought I might be able to provide some kind of help, right Sam?”

Sam walked up with somehow both a smirk and scowl on his face and pulled you into a quick hug. “That’s right, though I might’ve invited you along so that I’m not the only one putting up with his old ass.”

Bucky scoffed, trying to ignore the lack of warmth from your otherwise occupied hands. “Are you sure about this, doll? This is probably gonna end with all of us on a watch list.”

You nudged his shoulder, your own smirk gracing your features. “As if I wasn’t on one already.”

The boys both chuckled, before Sam spoke up. “Speaking of watchlists, he’s here.”

Boarding the private jet that Zemo just happened to have, Bucky tried to keep his eyes on you the whole time, even as you sat in the leather seat between him and the window. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just fascinated by this - I don’t know what to call it,” your brows furrowed at the sentence, at the faint smirk that rested on Zemo’s face. “But this part seems important. Who is Nakajima?”

Bucky was out of his seat in an instant, metal fingers gripped tightly around his throat. Zemo’s face wiped itself of any amusement. Bucky spoke into his ear low and gruff, but it could easily be heard throughout the plane cabin. “You touch that again and I’ll kill you.” 

He snatched the notebook back into his and heavily sat back down into his seat, hand wound tight around the small journal

Your fingers reached across his lap and wrapped around his clenched metal fist, thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of his hand. “Just ignore him, sweetheart. You and I both know nothing that man says is worth anything.” 

Bucky looked down at your joined hands, then glanced up at you with a small smile. He gave your hand a couple of squeezes, and tried to focus back on the words being said throughout the rest of the plane ride. 

—

The first time you called him “baby” was during their fight with John Walker. 

Madripoor and Latvia had been filled with silent stares, small smiles, and soft words . Fleeting “friendly” touches ensued as well - Bucky’s hand on your back drawing small circles, your gentle grasp of his hand or arm when he clenched his fist.

Bucky talked to you about Yori, about his too soft mattress, about his too shitty of a therapist, his want to get a cat. You told him about meeting Sam, your agency background, your agreement that he should totally get a cat. And now, you just wished you could have that again.

Walker was too strong, landing solid hits on both Sam and Bucky that could easily start slowing them down. He had lifted the shield over their bodies too many times, clearly holding on to the same psychotic fury he had when he killed the Flagsmasher.

To this point, you stood frozen in watch. You weren’t there when the fight started, and between Sam and John’s current focus on Bucky, you weren’t sure which side needed the most aid.

John had flung Bucky into a nearby metal utility pole for Christ’s sake, and a cry wretched itself from your lips. You ran to his side as he laid on the ground unconscious, metal arm cackling with untamed electricity. 

“Bucky,” you murmured as you checked his spine for any breaks. You could hear his breath, as shuddered as it was after an impact like that. You moved him to lay on his back, palm pressed to his cheek. “Bucky, honey, come on, wake up.”

You tapped his cheek a couple of times in slight panic, other hand unconsciously combing his hair back. A couple of moments passed before he groaned and huffed out a cough. “Bucky,” you sighed a breath of relief, eyes near tearing up as the tension left your body. “Are you hurt, baby?”

He sat up with a grimace, another groan leaving his lips. “What the fuck?”

“He took the serum,” your hands had yet to leave his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He looked up at you with a wincing smile, still bright enough to make your heart stutter. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” The red gracing your cheeks could be easily based on the intensity of the fight, but it was unsaid knowledge that wasn’t the case. He touched the hand holding his cheek as you swept a thumb back and forth. A grunt from the fight crashed them both back to reality. “He’s gonna kill Sam.”

You stood up, pulling him with you by his metal arm. Bucky swung his arm around to recalibrate before jogging forward. “We gotta get the shield. Be careful, don’t let him pin you.”

____

The first time you kissed him was in Louisiana. 

You giggled from the picnic table as you watched Bucky dodge Sam’s nephews, cake in hand, as they tried to tackle him for his arm, as well as when several of the children pleading to hang off of it.

He sat next to you on the bench of the table, shoulder pressing into yours as you basked in Sam and Sarah’s storytelling. Bucky shared some bittersweet stories about Steve, drawing smiles from everyone listening. Each laugh had you leaning into him a bit more, but a complaint could not be heard, especially when your hands brushed under the table.

The evening continued on like that into the early night. Bucky entertained the masses, looking a lot like the charmer he used to be. Sam reminisced with his community, taking many photos with his local family. 

You sat on the pier, leaning back against the wooden bench as the sun set over the water’s horizon. You could faintly hear laughter behind you on the dock mixed with the sound of the stereo’s music drifting over. A smile grew on your face as a presence made its way towards you, shoes scuffing against the wooden slats. A soft hand rested on your shoulder and sent warmth through your body. “Care for some company, doll?”

You flashed Bucky a smile that had him weak as you turned back to him and patted the space next to him. He sat down close, thigh pressed against yours, shoulder to shoulder yet again. 

“What’re you gonna do now, Buck? You think you’re gonna stick around?” 

He sighed, staring down at his metal hand in contempt. “I don’t know,” his hand clenched in his lap. “I’ve been following orders for a long time now. Might be good for me to work with someone, not for. Even if birdbrain has a habit of getting on my nerves.”

You reached across his lap and gently unfurled his fingers. He wished the pressure he felt against the metal was more tangible for once, more definitive. “You should do whatever makes you feel the most free, sweetheart.” You slipped both of your hands around his, rubbing small circles with your thumb. “Whether that be with Sam or doing something else. You deserve it.”

Bucky’s eyes drifted over your face and observed its features - the small smile that curled around your lips, the kindness in your eyes. “And what about you?” he spoke softly. “Will you stay?”

You looked up to him and searched his eyes with a hopeful grin. “Are you asking?” you chuckled, using one of your hands to comb his hair back behind his ear, thumb resting on his cheek. “If I’m needed, I’ll stay.”

Bucky puffed out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. “Well ya know,” he threw a bright smile in your direction. “Sam’s gonna need you here so he doesn’t lose his mind.”

You chuckled, leaning a little bit closer.  “And you? Do you need me?”

Bucky took in the space between you, the way your breaths mingled, foreheads near touching. “Yeah, baby,” he allowed himself to fully lean in. “I need you.”

You kissing him was like coming up for air, or finding water in the middle of the desert. It was salvation, it was required for him to have in order to survive. Your lips were soft, tasting faintly of the beer you had earlier. His mouth moved against yours like a magnet following them wherever they went. His hand drifted to your waist, moving you somewhat into his lap as you both smiled into the kiss. When you finally broke apart, it was only for the need for oxygen to fill your lungs. 

You giggled from above him, heads pressed together. Your hands locked themselves around his shoulders in an embrace that forced him to stay where he could feel the pant of your breath across his skin, not that he was complaining. “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Please reblog and comment! It's my first fic in *two fucking years* and i need to know that this is still good lol

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest III

Pairing: Orc!Bucky Barnes x human!f!reader

Word Count: 6,540

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: hand injury, mentions of blood, wound sutures/stitches, angry behaviour, jealousy, fighting, crying, racism against orcs. I think that's all.

A/N: this is the longest part yet because it might take me a while with part 4 depending on how the very important interview i have on the 17th goes. please send me good wishes on the stars if possible i would really appreciate it. And please enjoy this one and let me know what you thought if you can xx💜💜

~

“I got you something, little human,” Bucky said, his tone softer than it was that same afternoon as he scratched the back of his head.

He was new to courting, and it wasn’t exactly normal that he was courting his already-wife. Still, he was doing everything possible.

Bucky’s life has all been about fighting and wars. He didn’t do love or courtship. He didn’t do coddling or romancing. But there was a first time for everything and he was trying his best.

“Thank you,” she replied without looking up, pretending to be focused on folding laundry.

She was ignoring him.

Bucky had let his voice get loud a couple of hours ago after he had found her lost in the forest again. Only this time her foot was already messed up and she needed the rest, but she wouldn’t listen.

It hurt him how much pain she was willing to go through if it meant she could get away from him, but he wouldn’t let it show.

Instead, he yelled in frustration as he brought her back to their cottage.

She seemed like she wouldn’t quit, and so he wasn’t going to quit either.

Despite her constant rejection, Bucky refused to give up, his determination fueled by a newfound sense of purpose. He was willing to endure anything, face anything, if it meant earning even a glimmer of acceptance, or even affection, from her.

“You didn’t even see what I got you,” Bucky tried again, hoping she would at least look at him.

When she did, he gave a tiny smile and walked to the cottage door, bringing something inside.

“Here.” He dragged in a shiny wooden chair and placed it before his on their small dining table.

“You bought me a chair,” she said, pretending to be uninterested to hide the warmth that just spread throughout her heart.

“I made you a chair,” Bucky corrected, proudly palming the smooth wood, swiping his tongue over his tusks.

Bucky knew gifts were an essential part of courting and he didn’t like how she had to eat on the bed while he ate alone on the dining table because he only owned one chair.

He knew his days as a loner were long gone and it made his heart swell that he had her to share his house and life with now.

So he got to work and decided to make her her own chair out of an old oak tree. Being a lumberjack who had a woodworking shop had its perks after all.

It was going to be a weekend surprise, but he thought now was better timing after the fight they just had.

“You— you made this? From scratch?” She stood up in surprise, laundry forgotten for now.

“Yes.”

“For me?” She asked, not able to hide her emotions at the kind gesture anymore.

“Yeah,” Bucky chuckled, taking a step back so she could examine the chair.

She sat down and a big smile found its way on her lips when she looked up at Bucky. The chair was comfy and new and hers.

No one has ever gotten her anything, let alone made her something so beautiful. It was so special and a flood of emotions washed over her at the idea that someone had actually thought of her enough to make her a chair. That Bucky had made her a chair.

“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking eye contact so that she wouldn’t tear up.

Bucky only nodded in reply, internally celebrating the win with his heart doing backflips. She liked the chair.

She stood up and closed the small distance between her and the orc, getting on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, “welcome home.”

She quickly put the clean laundry in its place in the closet and went to the kitchen to start dinner, leaving Bucky with the most idiotic smile on his face as he shifted back and forth on his feet like a teenager.

She was punishing him for yelling at her by not making dinner, but that chair and the effort behind it deserved a good meal.

~

She was cleaning up after dinner later that night when she heard Bucky moving stuff outside. She didn’t pay it much mind; it was his house after all.

“Come outside, little human,” his voice called for her and she tentatively stepped out of the kitchen.

Bucky was standing by the open cottage door, a hopeful smile on his face as he encouragingly nodded for her to come over to him.

She didn’t know what to think, but any chance not to stay cooped up inside the cottage was going to receive a yes from her.

It wasn’t like she was ungrateful. She was certainly thankful she had a roof over her head and warm walls that she could hide inside from the rain and the cold.

But again, her situation wasn’t the most ideal either. If it was up to her, she would have stayed at the orphanage with the rest of the girls because if her fate was drawn for her to be an isolated orc’s wife, she didn’t want to be married.

When she stepped outside, however, marriage and Bucky didn’t seem that bad for a second.

“I thought we could watch the stars now that the sky was clear,” Bucky explained, internally nervous that she might call him ridiculous and refuse to sit with him.

He had waited for a day without rain and laid out a thick blanket on the ground before their cottage, the way lit for her feet by a close by lantern he had put out.

She was enthralled, mouth open and breath stolen. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of joy and disbelief engulfing her.

Bucky has even went as far as bringing out the shawl he had gotten her just in case she felt cold.

It was just like… a date.

Her heart raced and she smiled shyly at the orc, making him smile too as he watched her sit down on the blanket, holding her knees to her as she glanced up at the night sky nervously.

She has never been on a date before in her life, the town’s boys always picking other girls from the orphanage to fool around with, but never her. She was never really anyone’s type.

She slightly shook her head to shut down her insecure thoughts, knowing that none of those player town boys could have ever brought her on a date like this.

“Is the ground too cold?” Bucky asked as he draped her shawl over her shoulders.

She hugged the soft material around her body, smiling gratefully at the orc as she shook her head.

She was too shy to even speak at this point, her mind barely registering the amazingly romantic end to her day that Bucky had brought into existence.

Bucky then laid down on his back, wordlessly urging her to do the same.

She got on her back, eyes mesmerized by the sight of the stars. She has never seen so many before, her view from her room’s window at the orphanage was very limited.

It was different here in the middle of the woods because there were no town lights to take the view away from the sky and it was gorgeous.

“So beautiful,” she whispered with a smile, observing how the stars sparkled above them.

“Yes, the most beautiful,” Bucky whispered back, watching her as she watched the sky.

He wished she could one day look at him the same way she was looking at those stars; the same way he was looking at her.

In his eyes, there was a mix of determination and yearning, reflecting his unwavering commitment to win her heart despite her initial reluctance. Bucky’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in every detail as if he couldn’t believe she was really here, right next to him.

She turned her eyes to him, her shy smile widening, “thank you for this, Bucky.”

Gods, the way she said his name was something else.

“You’re welcome, sweet thing.” Bucky smiled back, turning his eyes back to the sky as to not make her uncomfortable under his stare.

As they silently continued stargazing, she felt her heart become lighter. She felt so serene, so content, and she had suddenly forgiven Bucky for raising his voice at her just hours ago, wanting nothing but for this peacefulness to last for as long as possible.

Was it imaginable for marriage to be this good? Could her life finally be turning around?

She couldn’t help but want to see Bucky in a different light in this very moment.

She knew that he was harsh sometimes, but she also knew that she wasn’t making it easy for him either.

Maybe she didn’t choose him and didn’t choose this marriage, but Bucky was trying with real effort and she wasn’t blind to it.

Bucky cared for her when she was sick. He provided for her. He brought her gifts, filled up her half of the closet for her with anything and everything she could need. And he, most importantly, apologized when he was in the wrong, which wasn’t something common for the human males of this kingdom. He also respected her boundaries and hadn’t tried touching her after their first night together.

Could this all be preparation for the purpose of bedding?

No, it couldn’t be. Bucky didn’t need to do this to get her in his bed. He had already had her there and he had willingly let her go. He could have his way with her anytime if he really wanted to.

She wanted to believe that this moment was real so bad. She wanted to believe that Bucky was trying to win her heart.

So she did.

And if Bucky was trying, she was going to start trying too.

She knew just the thing to do actually.

She was going to make Bucky strawberry jam tomorrow to show him how grateful she was.

She might have not much to offer, but she knew she made the most delicious fruit jams and marmalades. It was her specialty at the orphanage. All the other girls always managed to ruin the jams, adding too much or too little sugar, applying too much heat or not enough, eventually producing something inedible. But not her. No, that was one thing she knew with her whole heart that she was good at.

She might’ve not been the prettiest of the girls, but she deserved a good life and she was now determined to build one. With Bucky.

She wasn’t in love with him, she knew that, but she didn’t need love to have a good marriage. Respect and effort were going to be enough.

This marriage could be her chance at building a life worth living.

“Could you bring home some strawberries tomorrow?”

~

“Oh my gods, this is amazing!” Bucky exclaimed, sliding another spoonful of strawberry jam in his mouth.

“I’m happy you like it,” she replied proudly, a smile plastered on her timid features as she brought a basket of sliced bread to the table.

It felt so good to have someone other than the orphanage girls taste her hand’s making. Receiving Bucky’s praise felt so much different than all the compliments she’s ever received before.

It felt… way better.

“It’s really good, little human.” Bucky was too busy adding jam on the piece of bread in his hand, groaning as he slipped it into his mouth and chewed, “how much of this did you make?”

She laughed, “well, I wanted to start with a small pot because I didn’t know if you liked jam and I didn’t wanna throw out any of it, but we have enough if you finish this and want more!”

“None of this is getting thrown out, little human,” Bucky told her seriously, “I asked because I wanted to take some to Sarah. She has a sweet tooth and she would love this.”

A frown quickly replaced her smile at the mention of another female’s name. She suddenly felt like wanting to take the bowl of jam away from the orc. Hell, she felt like she wanted to get back the jam he had already ate and swallowed.

“Who’s Sarah?” She asked, trying to act nonchalant as she greased her bread with some jam.

“She’s Sam’s sister,” Bucky answered innocently, oblivious to the way she hummed with her jaw clenched.

“And who’s Sam?”

“Oh, right, you don’t know Sam. He’s my best friend; and my partner in the shop. Great guy,” Bucky told her, more interested in the jam than her reaction.

At least Sam was a male.

So just to be clear, Bucky wanted to take the jam she made to his best friend’s sister so she could have a taste and satisfy her sweet tooth? Yeah, she didn’t like that very much.

“Is she, like, married?” She wondered, trying hard not to show her anger.

“Who?” Bucky asked, chewing the bite in his mouth, the foreign question finally gaining his attention.

“Sweet tooth Sarah,” she answered with a somewhat bitter tone that Bucky has never heard before, her thumb swiping under his plump lips before she could stop herself as she harshly wiped away jam from the orc’s face.

The realization as to why her mood had suddenly turned sour made Bucky smile as he hurriedly swallowed his food, “little human,”

She looked up at him with a silent glare.

Despite her efforts to appear unaffected, there was a vulnerability in her eyes, a hint of insecurity betraying her true feelings

“Are you… jealous?”

Bucky’s amused smile made her even angrier as she watched his lips literally twitching.

Jealous? Pfft, of course not! Why would she be jealous!

“No!” She replied aloud defensively, “it was just a question.” She stood up, collecting the plates from the table without asking if Bucky was done eating.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Bucky laughed, holding onto the small bowl of jam.

“Try to save some for your Sarah,” she snapped, snatching her hand from the orc’s as she let him have the bowl.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her surprising reaction, his widening smile still glued to his face.

She frustratingly sped to the kitchen, violently twisting the water tab open as she rolled her sleeves up and started washing the things in the sink.

She had went through all this trouble and used all of these bowls that she now had to wash just for him to want to take her jam to another female to eat.

Who did he think he was?

It was her fault for trying to do something nice in the first place.

He didn’t even answer her question, and that Sarah was probably unmarried. She was probably an orc too. Yeah, it made sense that Bucky would be attracted to someone similar to him. Those two ‘friends’ were probably part of his clan.

The clan he never introduced her to.

How naive was she to think this marriage could actually work?

Bucky was outside still smiling to himself like a fool as he finished the rest of her sweet jam.

She was jealous. She was jealous over him.

He didn’t want to upset her though, so he didn’t say anything, letting her calm down first.

He took the empty bowl to her, setting it in the sink as she avoided looking at him.

She heard him chuckle as he left the kitchen and it made her punch the sponge in her hand inside the bowl, pounding it angrily as she ‘washed’ it clean.

When she was done cleaning the kitchen and brushing her teeth, she stomped out to the bed, getting in and covering herself from head to toe as she gave Bucky her back.

Bucky walked to the lanterns and dimmed their lights before joining her in bed.

He laid on his back, innocently waiting for his good night’s kiss.

A minute passed. 2 minutes. 5 minutes. The kiss didn’t come.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as not to startle her in the dark, “we had a deal. Where’s my kiss?” He put a hopeful hand on her shoulder, trying to twist her to face him.

“Have Sarah give you your kiss,” she replied with a deadpan tone, masking her fury as she pushed her pillow over her head, shrugging Bucky’s touch off her body.

Bucky stared at the back turned to him with an open mouth as he took his hand away and laid back, disappointment replacing his surprise and filling him up.

It was the first time since she had started feeling well again that she has refused to give him any of his kisses. Yet, respectful of her feelings, Bucky let her.

Maybe making her jealous wasn’t all that fun after all. But he didn’t even mean to make her jealous, he was just talking!

Bucky sighed, turning on his side as well as he fell asleep staring at the hidden back of her head.

~

The next morning as she put his breakfast on the table, she didn’t sit or eat with him, preferring to scrub the kitchen sink while Bucky ate even though she had just washed it the night before.

She didn’t give him his good morning kiss either; didn’t even speak to him.

She was still mad at him. This was serious for her, he realized.

Bucky might have found it fun last night, but today as she deliberately ignored his existence, he wanted nothing but to make her understand that what was in her head was nothing like the truth.

“Here, I packed jam for your sweet tooth Sarah,” she said harshly as she set a small jar of strawberry jam on the table before him.

“She’s not my—”

“Hope she likes it,” she cut him off, disappearing into the kitchen again.

Bucky sighed aloud, running a hand over his face as he stood up. Grabbing the jam, he took one look at the kitchen entrance before leaving the house for work with a clenched jaw.

She peeked outside when she heard the door shut to see the table empty. Bucky had taken the jar to Sarah.

Oh, that was it.

She could take being given to an orc against her will. She could take never having been chosen or given the chance to choose. She could take not being loved.

But she couldn’t and wouldn’t take being cheated on.

Was that why Bucky had decided to relieve her off her wifely duties in bed? Because he had another female? Was it because he had someone else to keep him warm and wet where he needed to be?

She couldn’t even think about the idea without feeling herself gag.

Why would he ruin her life by bringing her here when he already had that Sarah?!

How could she be so dumb, trying to meet him in the middle like that? Starting a peaceful life with this orc was never going to work!

She tried to pick the lock on the door like she usually would, but the new lock Bucky had put in wouldn’t budge.

She groaned in frustration before hauling herself up and out of the cottage window, running off to gods know where, hoping that luck would be her friend for once and maybe lead her somewhere out of these woods for good this time.

This marriage ends today.

~

Back at the shop, Bucky was as exasperated as they come as he used his chisel to shape the rough piece of wood in his hand.

After everything he was doing, how could she think that he had someone else? What was he doing wrong? What was missing?

Bucky had only ever wanted her. He thought he was the luckiest orc just because he got to fall asleep next to her every night.

How could he make her see that?

As his mind ran with thoughts and before Bucky could stop it, the chisel slipped and sharply cut the inside of his palm.

“Gods, fuck!” He shouted in pain as blood started flowing from the fresh wound.

Bucky tried to get the chisel from the floor so that no one would step on it, but his hand hurt more when he tried to squeeze his fist around the item. He grabbed it with his metal hand instead, rushing to the supply closet to find a clean towel to wrap around his cut.

He couldn’t continue working like that; couldn’t do anything with his hand.

Sam insisted on sending for his sister after seeing the amount of blood staining the cloth around Bucky’s hand.

Sarah tried to be efficient while messily stitching the wound as best as she could, wrapping it up carefully with gauze before advising Bucky to take a few days off work until his hand was healed. She was no doctor but she did her best for her friend.

Bucky thanked both siblings, giving Sarah the jam jar before leaving to go back home as his friends insisted.

He thought that his day couldn’t get any worse, but then he opened the cottage door to find the place empty and he could all but forget about his injury as he slammed his fist against the wall, crying out in anger. If his wound had started bleeding again, Bucky didn’t care.

~

“What the hell did you think you were doing out there again?!”

Bucky was enraged. He had found her wandering around the forest, as lost and as stubborn as ever.

“Getting as far away from you as possible.” She crossed her arms, her stare upset and unbending.

“And going where exactly!” He shouted, the idea of her spending the night inside a cold cave clawing at his back.

“Anywhere but here!” She yelled back, her face so hot she could feel sweat forming on her hairline in the middle of winter.

“It’s going to snow soon! Do you wanna get sick again?” Bucky held her by the arm, not too roughly as he didn’t really want to cause any real damage.

Neither of them noticed his blood staining her clothes.

She was too infuriated to notice Bucky’s hand wrapped in gauze. She saw nothing but red.

“I don’t care. I just don’t wanna be with you!” She retorted, snatching her arm out of his hold and pushing at his chest.

Though he didn’t move, her touch too weak to do anything to his colossal body, Bucky was hurt.

“Are you doing all of this just because of a little jealousy? Gods, human females are just—” Bucky shook his head in frustration.

“Jealousy? Hah! You think I’m jealous?” She faked a laugh, “this is not even a real marriage! What’s there for me to be jealous over?!” She continued raising her voice, the mention of her jealousy provoking her further.

Her words hurt Bucky more, the real gash now slashed across his heart.

Not even a real marriage.

Despite everything he was doing and trying, she still didn’t consider their marriage a real marriage.

“Well, do you wanna make it real, little human?” Bucky growled lowly, bringing her closer to his heaving chest by her arm, painting the sleeve of her dress in more of his blood.

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the proximity, her breath trembling as she imagined what the orc could do to her if he only wanted to.

“Let go of me,” she whispered as tears clouded her vision, hoping he wouldn’t be able to hear how scared she was in her voice.

Bucky complied, hating how nervous she got in the span of a second.

She ran to the kitchen at once, a hand on her chest as she felt her heart trying to escape her ribcage.

What an audacious orc! He was already with someone else and he dared threaten her with taking her to bed?! Damn, she was so stupid to think they could make something good out of this marriage. So stupid.

Bucky took a seat on the bed, face in his metal hand as he tried to gather his thoughts.

He had almost lost her for the millionth time today.

Was it going to be like this forever? What could he do to make it stop? How could he show her that this life with her was all he ever wanted? That he never wanted anybody else?

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” He asked when he saw her slam one bowl of rice on the table.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied curtly, her eyes on the ground and her jaw tense as she waited for him to get off the bed.

Bucky moved away understandably, taking a seat on the dining table instead as she climbed in bed, burying herself under the covers and hiding away from him.

Bucky knew she wasn’t asleep and he needed to talk to her; or at least see her face.

How was he supposed to have an appetite to eat if she wasn’t on the table with him, her beautiful eyes facing him and her shy smile greeting him every time he would moan over the taste of her delicious food?

“Hey.”

She felt the bed dip next to her as it took on Bucky’s body, his warm hand on her shoulder just like last night.

“Let your sweet tooth Sarah give you a kiss,” she spoke before he could say anything.

“This is not about the kiss. And She’s not my Sarah,” Bucky told her, turning her on her back so she could see his sincere face and hopefully believe him, “she’s not my anything. She’s just a good friend.”

She snorted, not buying it as she turned back to face the wall.

Bucky brought her back to him again, “she’s not married. She’s a widow, who is loyal to the memory of her husband, with two kids that are her whole world.” Bucky answered her earlier question, not wanting to hide anything from her.

“That’s none of my business.” She pretended to be uninterested, giving him the cold shoulder for the third time as she turned away, covering her head with the blanket.

Deep inside, she knew she was relieved to know that Sarah wasn’t interested though.

“It is your business,” Bucky sighed, taking the blanket away from her hands, making her look at him again, “it is your business when you think I’m involved with her.”

“You can do whatever you want.” She shrugged, acting indifferent, making Bucky more frustrated.

He released a loud exhale, “you’re what I want, little human.”

She remained silent, not expecting the orc’s patience or this admittance.

He had told her he wanted her before, but that was on their ‘wedding night’ when he had forced her to get completely naked for him.

This one was different. It sounded different and felt different.

“You don’t have to say all these things. We both know how this marriage came to be a thing.” She tried her best to hold her tears in.

“How did it come to be a thing?” Bucky wanted to see inside her head.

“How?” She sat up, her voice loud yet wobbly with emotions, “they gave you an orphaned girl you didn’t get to see or pick beforehand to make up for making you go to war for them, that’s how!” She felt bad for him, but even more for herself.

So she had read the contracts.

“Who told you I didn’t get to see or pick you?” Bucky swallowed.

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ve seen you before, little human. More than once. And I asked for you to be my wife instead of the noble man’s daughter I was originally offered.” Bucky came clean about the truth behind their arranged marriage.

“You what?!” She became even angrier.

He did this? She was here now because of him?!

“I willingly picked you, little human.”

“Why! Why me! Did you ever stop to think that I might not want this? Or you?!” She practically screamed in anger.

Who was he to decide her future for her? Why didn’t he just take the nobleman’s daughter!

“I did. But you were the only human female who has ever caught my attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off you every time I won a glimpse.” Bucky confessed, his light grey skin gaining a tint at the cheeks as he bared his heart to her, “I knew I couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you, little human.”

Won a glimpse

Couldn’t continue if I didn’t have you

No one has ever used such words to describe an act so normal as looking at her. No one had ever wanted or needed her. Why was her heartbeat speeding up? What was that orc doing to her?

“The minute you entered my cottage, you became my one and only. I don’t want anyone but you.” He promised, squeezing her smaller hand in his, “I will live and die loyal to you, little human.”

She knew he was telling the truth because she had heard the stories. Loyalty was very important to orcs and their mates were for life.

She just stared at Bucky, words stolen from her throat by the way he was looking at her.

No one has ever looked at her like that. Like she was the most beautiful thing they could see. Like she was the only girl in the world. Like she was the only one with any sort of control over this orc’s mind and heart.

“When I suggested gifting Sarah some jam, I was only thinking of doing something nice for a friend.”

She listened with a frown, a little angry again at the mention of the other female’s name.

“If it wasn’t for Sam and Sarah and the boys, I wouldn’t have survived a lot of things. They are my only friends and the only ones I can share nice things with.”

“The only ones?” She pouted, turning her face to the dining table in discontent.

“That’s not what I meant! I just— I’m not used to saying such things, but—” Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her smaller hand closer, “I was so proud of you being my wife and knowing how to make such delicious things that I wanted the important ones in my life to share it with me…”

Bucky didn’t have to know, but those words were everything to her because when she thought about it, no one has ever been proud to know or have her. No one has ever been proud of her for anything.

But Bucky was, and he wanted to show her off.

When she looked back at the orc, he was staring at the blanket covering her thighs, doubtful to meet her gaze.

Bucky looked… nervous, if you will.

She smiled, eyes tearing up despite herself as she waited for him to look back at her.

When he did, Bucky was instantly smiling back at the sight of her grin. That smile was the whole world for him; it sent him up on cloud nine.

“Have dinner with me?” He asked, his metal thumb wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

She nodded, her smile bigger as she got up and walked to the kitchen to make herself a plate, her heart going a hundred miles per minute as she couldn’t make her smile leave her face.

She wanted to be angrier over the fact that he got to choose and she didn’t, but then again, if she was being honest with herself, she probably could have never dreamt up a husband as good as Bucky was to her if she tried.

She believed that everything happened for a reason and she was too dreamy not to imagine that this whole marriage had to happen exactly the way it did just for her to meet this orc, and maybe, against all odds, have her happy ending with him.

Taking the lid off of the rice pot, she finally saw it: her palm covered in fresh blood.

“Oh gods!” She quickly washed her hand under the water, seeing and feeling no injuries, the realization that it must be Bucky’s blood sent a pang to her chest.

“Bucky?” Tears blurred her vision as she found the orc in the bathroom, trying and failing to remove the wrapping around his right palm with his left one.

She had been forced into this marriage, a union she never agreed to, but as she watched him struggle to tend to his wound, something inside her softened.

How did she not notice that he had come home with a covered up hand?

“Are you okay?!” Bucky asked, troubled to see her crying even when he was the one bleeding above his bathroom sink.

Her heart clenched at the sight; at the care in his cerulean eyes, “what happened to you?”

She sped up to get the first-aid box from him, getting out everything she was going to need as she looked at his bloody palm.

“It’s nothing, sweet thing,” Bucky told her softly, hating the look of anxiety on her precious face even if it was for him; even if it was making him feel all sorts of things, “just a scratch, really. Nothing I can’t handle”.

She tenderly finished unwrapping his hand, gasping as she saw the bleeding gash across it, “this doesn’t look like nothing!” She cried, more tears streaming down her face, “how did you get this?”

“I just hurt myself while working…” Bucky’s metal hand hesitantly pat her shoulder.

“Bucky.” She looked up at him, not believing that that was the only reason because the wound seemed to be loosely stitched and it was obvious that something had happened to make the wound bleed after it had been stitched.

“And I might have punched the wall when I came home and didn’t find you,” Bucky mumbled lowly, not wanting to make her feel bad.

It was just a silly scrape compared to what he had to endure back when he was still fighting wars, really.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into the back of her hand, feeling terrible for all the things she has been putting him through ever since she came here.

“Hey, I’m okay.” Bucky’s metal hand cupped her cheek, his smooth thumb sliding across to wipe her tears.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head in deep regret, not believing that he was still the one reassuring her in such a state.

“I am, I swear on our marriage.” Bucky wiped under her eyes patiently, caring about nothing but her heart carrying no burdens.

She was speechless because did Bucky just use their marriage to swear? Was it really that important to him that he would swear on it?

She didn’t care that this was an arranged marriage in possibly the most twisted of ways, a woman knew love when she encountered it and that orc’s eyes were showing nothing but pure love.

In the middle of her heart’s longing for a person to care about her, she couldn’t bring herself to step on Bucky’s. Trying to calm her down when he was the one injured and dripping blood? Yeah, that was an orc worth trying, caring and staying for.

“I’m— I’m gonna need to redo the stitches, is that okay?” She sniffled, relaxing herself as she wordlessly promised those concerned blue eyes to give them and this marriage her all.

“Yes.” Bucky smiled when he saw her wipe her tears away and the smile she gave him back made his heart soar.

“It might hurt a little, but just for a short bit, okay?”

Bucky nodded, not believing how delicately she was handling his huge hand with her smaller ones.

He was glad she never had to witness him back then or the actually deadly injuries he had had inflicted on him during wars. He wouldn’t have been able to take that look of fear in her eyes after every fight.

“Who did those sloppy stitches anyway?” She wondered in dissatisfaction with the work and Bucky swallowed hard.

She looked at him knowingly when he remained silent, “it was sweet tooth Sarah, wasn’t it?” She asked with half a smile as she started cautiously taking out the old stitches with the tweezers.

“Yes.” Bucky nodded sheepishly, “but Sam only called for her help because they don’t offer me help in the kingdom’s infirmaries.”

“What?!” Her head snapped up angrily.

They don’t offer him service at the infirmaries?! After all that he had done for this kingdom?

“I’m no longer a soldier of their own so…” Bucky shrugged with a sad smile.

Her expression went from angry to devastated to angry again in less than a second, “this is gonna sting a little.” She warned as she disposed of the old sutures in the bin.

“Don’t be upset, little human.”

She looked up, not knowing what to say or how to apologize to the orc about the terrible treatment of this kingdom’s people, but his smile told her that everything was going to be all right. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Her eyes swayed between his palm and his face as she started disinfecting the wound with the piece of sterilized cotton in her hand.

Bucky hissed and winced, making her stop at once.

“I’m sorry! I’m so so—”

“Ha, fooled ya! It’s not that bad,” Bucky laughed, amused at her reaction, instantly earning himself a slap on his shoulder with the back of her hand.

“Hey, you can’t do that to the injured!” Bucky whined playfully.

“Can’t I?” She teased, biting her smile back.

He smiled wider because she could.

Oh, she could do anything to him and he would take it with a smile and thank her for it.

For a heartbeat, the world around Bucky seemed to blur as he focused solely on her, engraving every detail of her smile into his memory. It was a sight he never wanted to forget, a ray of light in the darkness that had clouded his years for so long.

Everything was going to be okay, Bucky thought as he brought her to his chest with his metal arm, praying to the gods she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m— I’m almost done,” she muttered coyly, trying to make him let her go so she could finish tending to his injury.

But then she felt it: her husband’s tusks were pressing gently on her scalp as Bucky kissed her hair.

Her breath caught in her throat, a mixture of surprise and tenderness washing over her as she felt herself wanting to stay longer inside his embrace.

“Thank you, little human,” he whispered lovingly.

As she tilted her head slightly to meet Bucky’s captivating eyes, she found herself lost in the depths of their oceans, catching a vulnerability she hadn't noticed before.

She looked deeper and she realized that beneath his rugged exterior lied a heart capable of great tenderness, a heart that might just beat for her and her alone.

She beamed again as she softly replied, “you’re welcome, Bucky.”

Yeah, they were going to be okay.

Part IV

~

Tag List:

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[adrinktostopyourthirst]

Bucky Barnes | One Shot | My Queen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Queen!Reader

Plot: The post-battle energy rush needs a release. Suddenly, there’s a willing soldier at your disposal.

Warnings: 18+. Smut and mentions of violence.

Words: 4OOO

“There are guests, Your Majesty,” John tells you with pity in his voice, not mentioning it because he thinks you have forgotten, but because he needs you to be aware of the important fact. If you tried hard enough, it wasn’t too much of a task to remember your duties and who those entailed, but it was a relief to have John around to remind you of such things, since you valued your duties and relations with the outside world dearly.

You glance around nervously and give him a guilty pout, grabbing the last of your belongings.

“I know, I am so sorry, but this is important. Send them a plane and I will get back to them as soon as I can,” you plead and quickly rush out of the room to the main entrance hall, John following you as you make your way to the prepared jet.

Mind occupied by making sure your small legion is armed and ready to go as you walk, you get brought to an abrupt stop when two large men block your path. Raising your head, you glower curiously at the rude interruption. As busy as you have been the past weeks, you study each and every encounter you plan, so you know exactly who the two men are.

“Captain Wilson. Sergeant Barnes.”

“Your Majesty,” Sam’s greeting is curt, yet kind. “I don’t suppose a sudden departure is part of your infamous warm welcome?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You have an awful lot of courage speaking to a queen this way,” you warn him, your tone formal before your features soften towards your guests. “But I apologise. Something important came up and I hardly think sending you into war with me is considered a warm welcome.”

The man you recognise as James Barnes lets out a humoured scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know us very well.”

Your eyes dart between the men suspiciously and a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, hardly able to contain it at the sheer boldness coming from the men. After a pregnant pause and your legion having left the hall to board the jet, you slowly turn to John.

“John. You heard the men. Get them suited and onto the jet.” Sharing one more glance with the men, your eyes lingering on the twinkle of mischief in Bucky’s eyes, you brush past them and step onto the plane without another word.

…

“It’s not often a queen goes into war with her people.”

“Well, unfortunately my legions are struggling on their own,” you explain to Sam calmly.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, brows pulled together in slight worry.

“John? Could you please bring them up to speed while I get ready?”

As John takes over and shows the two heroes what their next mission will be as they serve someone else’s queen, you step over to the side and let one of your generals help you suit up. Slipping into the modern metal, rusted with nano technology, the shimmering suit glides over your body perfectly.

From the corner of your eyes, you notice Bucky Barnes losing interest from John’s briefing and your eyes lock with his. There’s a rush of heat pulsing through your body at the sheer boldness of Bucky not breaking eye contact once he gets caught staring. His eyes rake up and down the sleek suit and lock back onto yours, a knowing smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth before he drags his eyes away and turns back to his previous conversation.

Leaving you absolutely flustered and furious.

Did he just ogle a queen?

…

Bucky is startled enough for it to nearly show on his face when he sees the feral look you have on yours. He knows that look, has worn it plenty of times himself. Battle doesn’t quite leave your body and mind as soon as it is over. Even with your spectacular win, which Bucky knows is mostly because of your reliability and skills as a powerful leader, the raging chaos of adrenaline lingers like you have days worth of battles to fight still.

He came in to check up on you post-battle, easily slipping past your guards, to find you pacing in your blood-splattered gear around the chamber before what he assumes is your bedroom. The hall is large and decorated wonderfully, but so very empty with your restless figure pacing through it. He’s certain he can feel your energy buzzing all the way up to the impossibly high ceilings.

Having enough decency to announce himself, he gently knocks on the door from inside of the room. When you whirl towards him in your frenzy, he finds it amusing enough to plaster a smirk onto his face. “Restless, my queen?”

You huff through your nostrils. “I still have fight in me.” He knows. “I want to kill them for springing that attack on us.” He knows that too, but the gravel in your voice awakens a slumbering beast inside of him and fire starts curling around his bones.

“I think you gave them enough hell for what they did to you,” he assures you and something in your eyes seems to soften at that. You did give them hell. Rightfully so.

“But this energy–” You shake out your trembling hands to rid yourself of that restlessness. Bucky nods and slowly prowls closer, hands gliding into his pockets as he slants his head to the side to observe you.

“I know,” he acknowledges, “it takes a while to wear off.”

“How do you handle it?” you ask him, taking a steadying breath as he crosses the room. “After a fight, how do you get rid of all of that energy?”

Bucky flashes you a grin, his brows raising with intrigue and a mischievous shimmer in his eyes. “I hardly think I could speak about such methods to a sophisticated queen.”

“Sophisticated, my ass,” you snap, narrowing your eyes at the broad soldier. “You hardly felt like you had to be appropriate when you were watching me put on this suit,” you say with a scoff, ushering to the intricate metals you’re wearing.

“In my defence, I hadn’t seen you fight yet. Whereas now,” he shrugs, “I’d prefer staying in your good graces.”

“You fuck it out, don’t you?”

Bucky’s blink is the only sign of his surprise and he cocks his head at you again. “Excuse me?”

“The only way to get rid of the energy after battle is to get your dick wet,” you clarify, “isn’t it?”

Bucky chokes on a laugh, stepping even closer to you now with his hands still in his pockets, close enough to make you have to tilt your chin up. “You have a filthy mouth for a queen,” he breathes and to accentuate his words, his eyes drop to said mouth.

“I didn’t become queen by being prim and proper,” you explain with a little less fire than you intended to say it with.

“No,” he breathes, “you didn’t.”

Another restless shudder up your spine reminds you of your predicament, your thudding heartbeat not coming to a rest. You sigh, searching those blue eyes still trained on your lips. “Care to help a queen out?”

“You want to see me bow for you again, don’t you?” He smirks and finally raises his eyes to meet yours.

You can’t help but smile slightly, giving him a guilty shrug, because yes, you loved seeing him bow for you earlier as you stepped onto the battlefield. Not just that, plenty of pretty men had bowed for you. It was Bucky’s willingness and respect as he took a knee for you that was particularly invigorating. He matches your smile and takes a long second to let you take in what he is about to do, before slowly sinking to his knees in front of you, steady hands moving to rest on your thighs.

“Your people are awfully lucky to get to serve you every day,” he murmurs, looking up at you with eyes of fire and submission. That manages to make heat surge to your cheeks and ears, swallowing hard as you take in the sight before you. “May I?”

It takes all of your power not to nod too eagerly before he starts working off the buckles and belts of your suit, the nanotechnology wingmanning perfectly as the metal retreats into the hard base of the suit.

Soon, you are in nothing but your underwear. Bones and muscles are trembling beneath your skin in response to forcing your body to be utterly still. Chemical reactions are ricocheting against the barrier of your skin to make you spring apart. So much energy. So much fire and passion and fury still roiling inside of you. A heavy blanket settles over it – desire. But before you can order him to act on it, Bucky comes back to a stand.

“Close your eyes,” he mutters.

“I’m close to fighting you, Sergeant Barnes,” you promise him, showing your active restraint, but deciding to close your eyes anyway.

He huffs a soft laugh and you feel his eyes burning into your skin, a knuckle brazenly trailing over your collarbones and down the centre of your chest. “I will take you up on that another day,” he answers and your blood heats up at the fact that Bucky revels in both of those sides of you. Most men cower at your bloodlust, but not him. He kneels before it.

Speaking of him kneeling–

“I didn’t tell you to get up,” you remind him and his hand pauses.

“I didn’t particularly think it would be fair to leave you standing as I proceed to immobilise your legs, my queen,” he drawls and you snap your mouth shut. Your eyes slowly flutter open and you find him having taken a step back, holding out his hand for you to take.

Carefully taking it with a questioning look in your eyes, Bucky leads you to your bedroom like he has been there a thousand times. Slowly and deliberately, he guides you to your own bed, still fully clothed himself in those black leathers.

“I expected it to be more rough,” you admit steadily. “Fucking out that energy...”

Bucky turns back to you, hands now on your waist as he pivots you with your back to the bed, the backs on your legs touching the foot of it. “Fucking you roughly won’t do the trick,” he explains. “Fucking you thoroughly will.”

If you weren’t quaking before, this would do the trick. Your heartbeat is pulsing between your legs, hammering for attention, the seams of your underwear teasing you more than the man before you. It paralyses you, that desire coursing through your veins like syrup, makes you fall quiet. Only for a short while.

“Then do it.”

Bucky’s brows raise again, not having expected you to fold so fast. “What?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” you hiss at him. “I need you to fuck me before I explode.”

Bucky smirks at you again and you’re so tempted to smother that smirk – you have your ways. “I am not yours to give orders to.”

You restrain from rolling your eyes at him, the close proximity making you prone to holding your breath and making your words coming out strained. “I’m not going to beg for it.”

“You already have,” he reminds you, not an inch of him giving away that he might be unravelling. “And I think you will, sweetheart. I think you are seconds away from begging for it.”

As if in answer to his outrageous insinuation, a shudder racks through your bones and flashes of that wild battle make your nervous system rush to life again. It’s so frustrating, to have so much energy begging to be released.

His solid eyes and steady hands on your waist make you want to sink into him for relief. You want Bucky to tear you apart, almost similar to the way he tore apart those monsters earlier. Calculated, precise and only slightly unhinged. His fighting earlier was like a choreography your body wanted to study and practice until it can memorise nothing else. The way his muscles moved, the precise strikes of his metal arm, the focused crinkles in his handsome face, his thick thighs planting him firmly onto the ground – your ground. Fighting for your lands. For you.

My queen, he had called you. You suppose he does answer to your commands, then. But you might just beg for it. If only because it feels so tempting. To whine for his pleasure, sob for it and make him serve you like he wanted to do earlier. How awful, for a queen to want to beg for it.

“Please,” you almost gasp from holding your breath for too long.

He hums, low and deadly, his finger kneading gently and appreciatively into your soft flesh. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs and before you can shout in outrage, he slowly dips down and presses his pillowy soft lips to your collarbone, instantly making your head tilt backwards.

His hands pull you close enough for your front to be pressed to his and your hands automatically grab his shoulders. His lips part and his tongue traces a singular line over the thinnest piece of skin on your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His mouth moves up, tongue dipping in and out to raise your pulse as he suckles at your skin. Your fingers curl slightly and your body starts to nearly shake with jitters at the adrenaline coursing through you like an electrical charge.

Bucky bites down on the tense skin beneath your ear where he hums against you, the sound ringing in your head like a gong. His hands have travelled to your back, stroking up and down the bare skin until your bra pops loose with you barely noticing. You tremble with need when all you are left in are your panties and Bucky pulls away to once again sink down to his knees.

You swallow hard at his stare from below you and follow his silent command to sit down at the edge of the bed. Hooking his hands around your knees, he presses them apart and lifts one leg over his shoulder. Your fingers dig into the soft sheets with anticipation and you only break the intense eye contact to watch his tongue trace his bottom lip. He hooks your other leg over his shoulder and drags you to the very edge of the bed, getting comfortable on his knees.

“Is this where you want me?” he asks, but you don’t deign to answer him. “Kneeling before my queen.”

“Something tells me you don’t mind being there at all,” you answer tightly and his hands stroke up and down your calves lovingly. Bucky presses one kiss to your inner thighs, taking in a big whiff of air and groaning at the smell of your arousal.

“There is something about eating a meal on my knees that speaks to me,” he drawls, his eyes settling on said meal, only covered by the thin fabric of your panties. He presses another kiss, right over the damp fabric. You shudder.

“Then eat,” you bite back, scrambling to hang onto your power as a queen.

Bucky gives a wide grin, keeping his eyes on your soaking core. His hand lifts and his finger loops into the fabric, making you bite your lip painfully hard at the brief touch. He pulls the fabric to the side, spreading your legs enough for him to dive in, but not doing so yet. “That is no way to speak to your soldiers.”

Your soldier, Bucky supposes after today he is. You’re torture. Your smell, your voice, your body, the sheer power you have over him – over everyone.

Your hand finds his hair and you rake your fingers through the thick, brown tresses. Your eyes are soft when Bucky looks up to find them. “Will you take the honour of being my soldier?”

You’re genuine, he’s sure of it. Bucky can tell you’re asking him for so much more than just this. And considering his current predicament, he will consider his duties as your soldier later. Right now, he can only nod, entranced by the queen who has her legs wrapped around his head. He can only think of one duty right now and that is to rid you of all of that devastating warrior energy the only way he knows how.

Bucky buries his face between your legs and begins his feasting. Nudging his nose against your clit and prodding his tongue in and out of you. Licking every inch of your warm, wet, lovely cunt as if it’ll guarantee a place in your kingdom for him.

Sam will kill him for never returning home, but by the heavens, he can’t find it in him to care enough. Not with you tasting so heavenly and– fuck, those goddamn moans.

…

He was right, he was so fucking right. The slow and steady and longs thrusts make your body hiss in delight. The thorough swivel of his hips when he’s buried into you as far as possible, releases every bit of pent up energy that suffocates you. The sharp snap of his hips right as he’s about to hit home makes you shudder and sob, clenching around him every time as if you feel every thrust like the very first one.

Bucky strikes your deepest spot with each one, your hair between his fingers, your back arched to meet him and your cheek pressed into the mattress. Your eyes flutter painfully against your will, your toes curling when pleasure wraps around every abdominal muscle, your pussy spasming around him in need for release as the pressure between your hips grows to be unbearable.

The sounds that slip from your parted mouth sound inhumane. Soft and pitiful whimpers between huffs of breath. Oh God, oh God. You need him to slow down for a second, except he’s not going fast at all. He’s slow and deep and oh God, he’s so fucking deep.

You grapple for a grip in the sheets, any tether to reality slipping from your mind after every move he has already made. The last of your control, your power as a queen, slips away from you on a phantom wind, desire clouding every piece of domination inside of you. It’s all his now, you are all his now.

Within a short second, you get hauled up by your hair, arched against his heaving, sweaty chest until his mouth nips at your earlobe. Your hands grab his hips behind you, nails digging into his firm skin.

“You still there, my queen?” he coos, and you feel his grin as his mouth grazes over your neck possessively. Your answer is the harsh tightening of your nails into him and the groan he lets out makes you clench around him wantonly. “Oh, somewhere. You’re somewhere in that sex-riddled brain of yours. Losing your mind a little, are you?”

You swear you mean to speak a sentence – a word, at least – but the sound that comes out sounds like another garbled moan and Bucky laughs at your demise. He quickly presses a loving kiss to your shoulder, a deep thrust settling him so deep inside of you, you flutter helplessly around him.

“Don’t worry,” he hums, another deep thrust following as the hand in your hair slips to securely grip your throat and move your ear back to his mouth. “Next time, I will let you take the reigns. You can tie me to the bed and use me to make yourself come. I’m looking forward to it, actually.” You pulse around him and he snickers. “Oh, you like that, don’t you? Prefer to have control and use the ones that serve you.” He bites your ear softly and squeezes your throat. “Oh, but you look so pretty like this. Don’t take this away from me, sweetheart.”

It's a whirlwind of emotions that rush through you at his words. You feel his desperation to have you like this seep through his ignorant confidence having you exactly like he wants you. The last of your working brain cells are screaming yes, yes, yes at his request. You’ll let him have you like this every day for the rest of your life. And it flashes before your eyes, him waking you up by slowly fucking you, hand back in your hair and lazy mouth muttering filthy things against your skin. God, he’s filthy.

Your vision is swirling as his pace picks up and blood flow to your brain is slightly limited by his grip. Ecstasy is rushing through your head and limbs with heavy tingles, and your moans raise in pitch. The metal hand bruising your hips with its possessive grip, slides between your legs and messily toys with your clit, the feeling making you want to buckle over.

“Shit!” you gasp and throw your head back into his shoulder, thighs quaking at the stimulation. Too much, it’s too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel every inch of him glide in and out of you with an ease and precision that feels degrading and embarrassing. Bucky’s breath is equally laboured now and his grip on you turns from possessive to desperate, like he cannot get enough of you into his hands.

“Come for me again, my queen,” he purrs in your ear, knowing what that term now does to you, and you nod blindly. Following his command blindly, unable to resist the feeling of his deep thrusts and his firm circles on your clit any longer, you let the warmth of your orgasm consume you. You tremble and shake and stiffen at his touch and he doesn’t stop. “Come on, keep coming. Keep fucking coming, baby.”

You choke out a sob, surely drawing blood with your nails as you gasp for air, for any word to make him ease up on you, but he only stops when you buckle over and your trembling form succumbs to the sheets below you. Curled up on the sheets, bearing the waves of pleasure that haunt your every nerve, you feel Bucky’s exhausted and sex-glazed eyes watching you carefully. You faintly feel the trickle of him come pulsing out of you and it nearly makes you smile.

Two hands, one scorching with heat and one a welcome cool, gently stroke up the sides of your thighs, cooing sounds coming from Bucky as he watches you come back to your senses. Lips follow his soothing touches, warm kisses being pressed to your quickly cooling skin.

“How’s that post-fight energy?” he asks softly and your eyes finally flutter open to meet his curious ones, the blue shimmering with… Pride.

“Fuck,” you pant, “you.”

He laughs, “Again?”

You breathe a soft laugh and he at last presses a kiss to your lips. If you had the energy, you know your body would betray you by lifting your head to chase his lips.

You finally let out a defeated sigh, letting the corners of your mouth lift to a lazy smile. “Thank you.”

“At your disposal,” he mutters back with slight amusement and you open your eyes again to look at him. God, he’s beautiful.

“Are you,” you dare to ask, earnest in your eyes, “at my disposal…?”

“It would be an honour.”

“Likewise.”

“That is more than I’ve ever had before.”

“The honour?”

He nods. And then leans in, his mouth brushing your ear as your eyes flutter closed again, goosebumps rising over your skin. “I will bow for you any day,” he breathes softly, “my queen.”

[solxamber]

Can I get baker boy Trey realizing that his S/O is a super secret spy for another country. Yet, when confronted, said S/O admits that they faked their death to be with him.

Cocoa Conspiracy - Trey Clover x reader

He knew you as his partner, the love of his life, but he didn't realize your real identity: a spy vying for pastry destruction

Trey Clover wasn’t ready for this. He thought he was just dating you—the quirky, adorable, slightly unpredictable person who occasionally knew way too much about the inner workings of a high-tech security system. Sure, sometimes you went missing for a week without warning, but he figured you were probably just... really into nature hikes? Who was he to judge?

But now here he was, standing in the middle of his beloved kitchen, staring at a government-issued spy dossier that read like something out of a James Bond fever dream. The worst part? Your face was plastered all over it, right next to the words “Top Secret Agent: Wafflia.”

Wafflia.

He had to read it three times before it clicked. “Dear...” he began, holding up the papers like they were a particularly burnt batch of cookies. “Why does it say you’re an undercover agent sent by the nation of Wafflia to... sabotage the pastry industry? What is this?”

You, who had just casually walked in, munching on a muffin like it was a normal Wednesday, paused mid-chew. “Oh. Right. That.” You glanced at the folder in his hands like it was an old grocery receipt. “I, uh... meant to tell you about that.”

Trey blinked. “Tell me? You meant to tell me?”

You shrugged, your voice a little too nonchalant for someone who’d just been outed as a literal international spy. “Look, babe, I can explain—”

“Explain? You’ve been sent to ruin all pastries in Twisted Wonderland!” Trey threw up his hands, a little more animated than usual, which was saying something. “Pastries! My life revolves around pastries! Why didn’t you tell me you were some kind of... dessert assassin?!”

You chewed thoughtfully for a moment, as if considering the best way to let him down easy. “Well, first of all, ‘dessert assassin’ makes it sound way cooler than it actually is. I mean, it’s mostly paperwork. And second of all... I didn’t really take the mission seriously. I was distracted.”

“Distracted? By what, the buttercream frosting?” Trey snapped, incredulous.

“No, by you.” You rolled your eyes like it was obvious, casually finishing the muffin. “You know, because we’re dating. Thought that was kind of important.” You flicked a crumb off your shirt, as if this entire conversation wasn’t wildly absurd. “I couldn’t exactly go around destroying pastries when you bake this good. Do you even know how hard it is to sabotage a cake when it tastes like it was baked by an angel? It’s basically sabotage-proof.”

Trey blinked. “Wait. So, you’re telling me the only reason you haven’t followed through with your evil pastry-destroying mission is because... my desserts are too good?”

“Yup!” You gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up. “Honestly, if Wafflia tasted your cupcakes, they’d probably call the whole thing off.”

Trey’s eye twitched. “...Wafflia?”

“Tiny nation. Mostly waffles. A little maple syrup industry on the side. Really not a big deal.”

“You are literally a government agent from a country that declared war on bakeries!”

You sighed dramatically, as if he was the one overreacting here. “Yeah, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that I faked my death to be with you.”

Trey stared at you like you had just slapped him with a pie. “You what.”

“I faked my death. Big explosion. Very cool. It was like something out of a Michael Bay movie, except with fewer explosions and way more sparkles. It’s kind of the Wafflian signature. Anyway, I’m legally dead now.” You leaned back against the counter, looking incredibly proud of yourself. “Did it all for you.”

Trey was about three seconds away from emotionally combusting. “You... faked... your death... so you could—”

“Ditch the life of a spy and bake tarts with you, obviously.” You grinned like this was all completely reasonable. “It’s called love, Trey.”

Trey had to sit down. He dragged a chair across the kitchen floor, the sound screeching in the sudden silence. He sat down heavily, trying to process the information bomb you had just dropped in his very innocent, pastry-filled kitchen. “So, let me get this straight. You were a secret spy for a country that wants to destroy desserts—the thing I care about most in the world—and you faked your death to... retire?”

“With you,” you corrected, grabbing a tart from the tray and taking a huge bite. “I mean, why else would I fake my death? Have you seen how good you look when you’re rolling out dough? I’m not giving that up.”

Trey blinked at you, his brain malfunctioning at the speed of light. “You—what—I just—how are you—”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Look, babe, relax. All I’m saying is, Wafflia thinks I’m dead, I think you’re hot, and your strawberry tarts are so good that I’ve basically retired from espionage to live out the dream with you. Problem solved.”

Trey opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, resembling a fish out of water. “...I don’t know if I should be flattered or horrified.”

“Why not both?” You waggled your eyebrows, licking the last of the tart crumbs off your fingers. “I’m flexible.”

Trey buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I just wanted to bake some bread. I didn’t sign up for all this—secret spy, faked your death, sabotage the pastry world—what even is this.”

You patted him on the back, still munching. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least I’m not sabotaging your desserts.”

Trey peeked at you from between his fingers. “And... what about other people’s desserts?”

You smirked. “Well... no promises. But I’ll probably keep it to a minimum. For you.”

He groaned louder.

I didn't know if you wanted it serious or silly, but i made it silly. let me know if you wanted it more serious!

Masterlist

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jay Kuo at Think Big Picture:

For years, critics of Vladimir Putin have been warning that the Russians have taken over parts of the Republican Party. They raised the alarm as Republicans defended the Russian leader, parroted clear Kremlin talking points, and became mules for disinformation campaigns. In recent weeks, that criticism has shifted to include not just Republicans who have left the party, including former representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger, but current GOP members. Recently, two powerful Republican chairs of the House Intelligence Committee and the House Foreign Affairs Committee warned openly about how Russian propaganda has seeped into their party and even made its way into speeches on the House floor. Other members are now even openly questioning whether some of their fellow officials have been compromised and are being extorted. Rep. Tim Burchett (R-TN) suggested in a recent interview that the Russian spies may possess compromising tapes of some of his colleagues. It’s unclear where he’s getting his information or how accurate it is.

And then there’s this: According to a report by Politico, a number of European politicians were recently paid by Moscow to interfere in the upcoming EU elections by Russians pretending to be a “media” outlet called “Voice of Europe.” The Kremlin-backed operation used money to influence officials to take pro-Russian stances. Authorities have conducted some money seizures and launched an investigation into which members of the European Parliament may have accepted cash bribes. This in turn raises an important question for our own politics: Are the Russians doing the same with U.S. politicians, directly or indirectly? This piece walks through the three types of compromise—disinformation, extortion, and bribery—to give a sense of what we know and what we don’t really know, and, importantly, where we should be on our guard. As this summary will show, from the 2016 election till now, there’s enough Russian smoke now to assume there is a fire, one that compromises not only the integrity of our own system of elections, but the safety and security of the free world. Duped.

Over the past year, we have witnessed two distinct kinds of Russian propaganda in action. Both use our own elected officials and intelligence processes to amplify and even weaponize disinformation. The first kind originates online through Russian-backed internet channels. Information operatives begin spreading false rumors, for example about Ukraine, that then get repeated within right-wing silos before reaching willing purveyors of it within the halls of Congress. A chief culprit in Congress is Georgia’s Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene. Among the Russian-originated false narratives she has uplifted is the patently false claim that Ukraine is waging a war against Christianity while Russia is protecting it. On Steve Bannon’s War Room podcast, Greene even claimed, without evidence, that Ukraine is “executing priests.”

Where would Greene have gotten this wild, concocted notion? We don’t have to look far. Russian talking points have included this gaslighting narrative for some time. The twist, of course, is that, according to the International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance, it is the Russian army that has been torturing and executing priests and other religious figures, including 30 Ukrainian clergy killed and 26 held captive by Russian forces. The Russians have also targeted Baptists, whom they see as U.S. propagandists, according to an in-depth Time magazine piece on the violence and death directed toward evangelicals. The Congressional propaganda mouthpieces for Russia aren’t limited to the U.S. House. Over in the Senate, Ohio Senator J.D. Vance was also recently accused of spreading Kremlin-backed disinformation about Ukraine, this time over spurious allegations that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy siphoned U.S. aid to purchase himself two luxury yachts.

[...]

The accusation that Russians are presently extorting and blackmailing U.S. politicians into supporting Russia’s agenda has some broad appeal. It would help explain some mysteries, including why people like Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) suddenly is no longer as supportive of Ukraine as before and constantly kisses the ring of Donald Trump these days—after presciently saying in 2016 that the GOP would destroy itself if it nominated him. 

The problem has been that these accusations aren’t supported by much evidence. That means that political extortion by the Russians is either not a very prevalent practice, or it’s so effective that no one dares expose it. Either way, we’re left without much to go on. The Russian word kompromat came into common parlance around the time that Buzzfeed published a salacious story about another intelligence report back in early 2017. In that instance, the author, a former British intelligence officer named Christopher Steele, was concerned Russia had compromising data on the soon-to-be president, Donald Trump.

That report never wound up being substantiated, and its sources and funding came into question as well. But intelligence agencies are in general agreement that obtaining kompromat is standard practice by Russia, and someone like Trump could have been an easy mark considering the company that he kept (e.g. Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell) and the projects he was involved with (e.g. the Miss Universe contest). Lately, the notion of kompromat emerged once again, this time not from Democratic-paid outfits but from within the GOP itself. Rep. Tim Burchett (R-TN) is one of the more “colorful” characters within the GOP, primarily known lately for being one of the eight members who voted to oust former Speaker Kevin McCarthy and even for getting into public jostling and shouting matches with McCarthy.

The Republican Party (or at least its pro-MAGA faction) is compromised by Russian kompromat.

[masterqwertster]

Having watched the Titan Commune a couple times now, I don't think that Ashton has gotten any more extreme in their viewpoint of "the gods should leave," or that to him weak people dying for the change is okay, like so many people are saying.

Maybe this breakdown will be considered overly generous to Ashton to those people, but I feel the need to make it.

What happens during the commune

Ashton starts the commune asking for a name, offering his own in exchange. He's trying to open the dialogue. The response is images of stone and earth.

Then they switch to "The gods may leave. I might be able to chase them off. Talk to me."

Ashton is trying to get attention here. He's not promising, not saying he will get the gods to leave, just that there's a possibility and Ashton is involved in what's happening. And it's not a bad appeal. The gods warred with and killed the titans, so hearing they might go, that Ashton might drive them off, should make him someone interesting enough to talk to.

"I'm part of you" is the appeal Ashton makes once he's got the titan essences' attention. Though there's a bit of a questioning lilt to it (to me), like Ashton's not sure they'll see it that way. And is refuted with "She's part of you," which, given we know these are sort of ghostly remnants incapable of acting, is turning it around to say "you're kind of the whole here, not us."

Ashton accepts that answer (sort of. The subtitles end it with a question mark, I'm not sure that it sounded like a question, more acknowledging that was the titan essences' view of things), then asks "Who are you?" They respond with saying they are the rock and stone, the world. And since Ashton was kind of more so looking for a name, they switch back to appeals. They walk the world, they're from the earth, of the earth, to the earth. And they're running around with the vessel of the Spark of Rau'shan.

"The gods may leave. If we do this, what's possible? What do you want?"

So here we have Ashton looking for what happens if the gods are gone (again no assurances made it's going to happen) from beings that saw the world before the gods arrived, who know what a god-free world was and could be. And Ashton's personal assessment question of "What do you want?" that helps him judge what he's getting into. Ashton is used to being a grunt, muscle for hire, and it's important to know what the person you're helping/working for wants to avoid crossing lines or getting in trouble. It's asking where do you stand and what of your biases should I be aware of.

"We are lost. We are scattered. We are everything."

A response to "What do you want?" which is, essentially, nothing. The titan essences' are beyond caring. They are broken remnants found everywhere and in everything, they are too piecemeal to want.

"I don't know how to be lost in everything at the same time. How do I find you? How do we... If we make them leave, how do we make a world? How do we remake it?"

Admitting that the way the titans are now is beyond Ashton's comprehension and they'd like something a little more specific as they take lost more literally, then circling back to what's possible without the gods. Asking how people can survive and move on and grow without the gods.

"We've always been. Everything is cyclical. "

Not our problem. Things will go on, they always do.

At which point Matt gives the understanding that Ashton is speaking to leftover fragments of the titans, not any solid, gathered entity(s).

"Cyclical... How do we restore you? How- I... I wanna fix what's broken. No more lost, no more shattered. How do we return? What would you have me do?"

Smart? No. The titans were killed for trying to kill all mortals, so bringing them back is not smart. But if things are cyclical, then doesn't that mean they're coming back anyways? Then it might not be a bad idea to gain some good will by helping. But also I think Ashton thinks they can get the titans to help with the remaking of the world, in getting it to function without the gods. Which again, the titans know how the world can function without the gods, so they should have instructions on how to make it functional, as it was functional before, if there are no gods tending/supporting the world.

But all Ashton gets is "lost. lost. lost." The titans cannot return. And it doesn't feel lost to him, not when he's talking to something. But I think they understand a bit, towards the end, that while they have found remnants to talk to, these remnants can't act and so they are lost. But Ashton can act, he is not lost.

"If we can make them leave, we can find you." Which is... taking lost very literally, and refusing to accept that the pieces can't be assembled into something whole again. And blaming the gods for not having the space to find/reassemble titans, which Ashton would see as supported by the suppression of the Loam and the Leaf religion in Hearthdell by the Dawnfather temple.

And then Ka'Mort makes her appearance starting with "You are my memory. We are lost. You are not."

You are what's left, you get to pick the path forward. Please stop asking that which is beyond caring what path you should take. It doesn't matter to us.

"It's you. He travels with me as well. Is he also a memory?" "Yes" "I would like to remember. I'm sorry that I'm broken. Will this hurt?" "I don't remember." "Let's find out"

Confirming that all the other titans are as much essences and echoes as what Ashton is dealing with now. Asking for what information can be shared. Apologizing, thinking they're not enough, not worthy. Warning label, is this painful? Don't know? Going forward with it anyways.

A vision of "the beauty of chaos." Ashton sees life push forward after destruction in earth and fire, cyclical. And Matt says it's a time of maybe too much chaos, or maybe not enough chaos since. That destruction, making things temporary, makes it beautiful and meaningful.

"Ha. Not broken. Just in motion."

Things will hurt, but they can change, recover, get better. That's the message Ashton is taking from this vision. The cycle is destruction, and from the destruction, new growth. Nothing is beyond repair, rebirth, reforging.

"Will this world hold?" "This world has held being remade before."

Confirming Exandria isn't going to just explode or end because the gods are gone. A bit of a weak confirmation in my opinion since Predathos as the method of god banishing is never mentioned and the titans acted against it for some reason. But not entirely empty either.

Now for the real sticking point:

"And those who live upon it?" "If they're strong they will. If not, they'll be remade into something stronger." And Ashton has some sort of little laugh/bemusement about some thought they have in response to that before stating "I think I understand."

Now, remade stronger can mean quite a few different things. There's the one everyone seems to have jumped to which is Law of the Jungle, flesh of the weak feeds the strong. There's strength and changes gained in surviving and adapting. And there's also the possibility that reincarnation is reinstated for the whole world and people are literally reborn into something stronger. None of these exclude death of the weak, and in fact mean many weak will die.

But also, Ashton doesn't say "okay, that's fine by me." He says "I think I understand." There's no clarification on what he maybe understands, or what that information means to him, but it's not Ashton jumping forward saying "I accept that price (that I won't be personally paying)."

"Remake yourself. Never stop changing." "Mountains of dirt."

You know, it's possible Ka'Mort just called Ashton weak, saying they need to remake themself. But also, it's a directive to move forward, grow, become. And Ashton's reply of mountains of dirt indicates that to him, it's going to be a slow process from small beginnings to something big. I mean, making a mountain of dirt is time and effort, scoop by scoop, pile by pile. Or that big things are made of lots of smaller things.

Now for the outside after talk

"I think I had a talk with Exandria. I uh, I don't know. There was change and earth and mountains and fire."

Not inaccurate, given the titan essences seem to be scattered and all throughout all of Exandria. But maybe not truly accurate either. It's just what they saw and felt.

Funny little side discourse about Exandria being a she as Ashton tries to tell Fearne that Ka'Mort maybe had a message for Rau'shan/Fearne.

Another sticking point to people:

"The Shard of Titan in me, uh, it's good."

Yes, we shouldn't assign morals to powers. Power simply is, and it's how it's used that matters. But the thing is, I don't think Ashton's had reason to believe that the Shard of Ka'Mort has much use outside of destruction, which, pure destruction is generally bad. So seeing the power of earth as part of the Life part of the greater cycles of the world, not getting a "kill all mortals" directive from the titan essences that once tried to do that, makes it seem not so bad. It could even be (used to do) good.

And please remember that Ashton's assessment of himself is he is not particularly good, just an asshole who is trying to do better but certainly isn't there yet.

More sticking points:

"If things go the way that I think they're going to go, I think that nature is ready to right itself one way or another."

Ashton is not an optimist. Bells Hells, a group of chucklefucks, has to stop a man considered the most powerful mage in the world, plus his on-site lackeys, before he pulls the lever. They could be too slow, they might not be strong enough, and Predathos's change will come whether they like it or not. Ashton acknowledges this possibility. It's part of why they agreed with the idea of saying some important goodbyes/final words. And while I hope Ashton has also acknowledged that the Arch Heart's plan of Chase Us Away is already doomed to failure (the Matron won't leave, the others already want to fight, so who knows who else will refuse to go), there is, unfortunately, still the possibility of trying that plan. OR there's the Matron's strong suggestion to renegotiate mortals' relationship with the gods if they are allowed to live and stay. So either the titans' primordial version of nature comes back because the gods are gone (eventually) or because part of the negotiated change is letting some of that back in, just a bit more chaos in the world.

I don't think that primordial nature needs to come back, to "right" things, like Ashton thinks things are set up to happen. But he's not saying he's going to force it, that it will happen, just that he finds it likely to happen.

"I think the world is ready for a bit more chaos. I think that we could be good for this place, and I don't think- I think we will more than survive the gods if it comes to it."

Again, Ashton never unequivocally says they are getting rid of the gods. Always if and might and maybe. He thinks the world can handle the changes to come, that Bells Hells can do right by the world, and if the gods are gone, people will keep on keeping on, living life, not just surviving.

In Sum

Ashton was confirming people will survive without the gods, should that be an end result. Probably because the Arch Heart was pretty hand wavey, I won't be here to care about it. And finding some measure of connection to and reassurance from a power that has been with them for most of their life.

Yes, Ashton is still in support of chasing off the gods due to not liking them/their thrones (self-servicing selective intervention and valuing any other god over mortals in total) and is not considering how that would feel to and hurt many people across Exandria, but it's really not more extreme than his opinion was before the commune.

Like, the only maybe change is Ashton now thinks it's a good idea to unshackle nature from the gods' control regardless of if they stay. Which could potentially be on the table if renegotiating the gods' relationship with Exandria happens. And there's nothing to say that kind of nature is worse or more harmful than what exists and can't be part of the major upheavals that are coming regardless of what happens with the gods. As an aside, I think places like the Demathore Valley would accept that change, since they are already into elemental nature, and so it could be done without trampling all over people who don't want it.

[literaryavenger]

Broken - final part

Summary: The wait for Bucky's trial is finally over.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3K

A/N: this is the last part of this story! I had originally planned on making it much longer but I honestly didn't have many ideas to go on, so I decided to use the ideas I did have and end it there. So here it is, hope you like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

Slowly you start to forgive the team, starting with Peter that came to you one afternoon handing you some flowers and a teddy bear as an apology and making your heart melt. How can you stay mad at such a sweet boy? 

After about a month you're back on speaking terms with everyone, except Steve and Tony.

For some reason you can't get over the fact that they started the whole civil war and were the ones to decide to cut you out of it.

Everyone tried to make you see things from their side, even Thor and Bruce that were back from New Asgard along with Loki, who couldn’t care less about the whole situation but kind of enjoyed the chaos. 

After that night with Bucky’s nightmare you talked more about pretty much any subject, and he came to you everytime he needed comfort.

Bucky also isn't able to keep his hands to himself anymore, not that you mind, a feat that did not go unnoticed by the team.

You never miss the knowing looks they give each other every time Bucky hugs you or randomly grabs your hand.

Even though you couldn't bring yourself to forgive Steve yet, you start being around him more and more especially after Bucky asked you to start coming with him to his meetings with Fury.

The closer it gets to his hearing, the more touchy Bucky seems to be with you, as if his hands on you is the only thing that keeps him grounded to reality. 

The day before his hearing Bucky can't get himself away from you, following you everywhere since you woke up in the same bed, a thing that started to happen more and more every time he had a nightmare.

Some nights going as far as going to sleep directly in your room without even stepping foot in his.

Steve bides his time the whole day, trying to choose his moment, which came in the early afternoon when you left Bucky on Scott's floor with Cassie while you went to yours to get some Pop Tarts for Cassie since, not surprisingly, Thor finished the ones in their kitchen.

Scott thought that spending time with Cassie, which Bucky has come to be very fond of, would help the super soldier take his mind off the trial, and he was right.

When you get to your floor, and Steve sees you're alone, he doesn't think twice about approaching you.

He's speaking before you even have a chance to realize what's happening. "Listen, I know we’re not in the best terms right now, but I want to talk to you about Bucky."

As much as you want to ignore him you know he really cares about his best friend. And since he’s been nothing but respectful of your decision to avoid him, you think that him actively seeking you out means this is important.

So you nod at him to go on and, with a relief sigh that you're actually gonna listen to him, he does. "Here’s the thing, we both know Bucky’s been through a lot…" he starts, choosing his words carefully as to not give his best friend away completely.

"He’s been doing so much better, and even I realize that’s largely thanks to you." you’re about to protest, but he raises his hand to stop you. "It is. We all see how he is when you’re around, but you don’t see how he is while you’re away on missions. He’s like a puppy just waiting for you to come back, brooding away everytime someone that isn’t you walks through the door."

You can tell he’s trying very hard not to smile as he thinks about it, but fails miserably, before shaking his head a little and getting back on track.

"Anyway, my point is you’re important to him. Tomorrow is gonna be a really hard day for Bucky and I want to thank you for being there for him. Not just for the trial, but for everything I know you do for him. And, I realize it might not be my place to say but, as the only family Buck has left, I feel like I have to tell you: please be careful with him. After everything he’s been through the last thing he needs is to get his heart broken."

Steve knows maybe he said a little too much, but he needs to know Bucky's in good hands. Even if he does trust you with his life, he also wants to know he can trust you with his best friend’s heart.

He doesn't expect you to answer, your face staying neutral the whole time he spoke, and he's about to turn away when you basically throw yourself at him, giving him the tightest hug he’s had since you started avoiding him.

All you can think about was how glad you are that Bucky has someone who cares about him as much as Steve does.

Now more than ever you can see Steve’s reasons behind his choices, how he was motivated by his love for a guy he sees as a brother, the only family he has left.

You get it, you truly do, but seeing it makes you almost cry on Bucky’s behalf.

"I promise you the last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt him." is all you say as you let go, a wordless understanding between you both that you forgive him.

You grab the pop tarts you came here for and go back to an awaiting Bucky and Cassie, who are wearing tiaras and giggling making your heart melt.

The rest of the day goes fast and soon you’re getting into bed with Bucky, not wanting to sleep by himself tonight.

"Hey," he says as he wraps his arms around you. "I just want to say, in case things go wrong tomorrow-"

"Don’t say that, Buck." you interrupt him. "Everything’s gonna be okay, and you’ll come home a free man." you say firmly.

"Doll, we both know there’s a very real chance that I’ll be found guilty and sent back to the Raft. If that happens, I don’t think I’d be able to live without you knowing this…"

Before he can say anything else, you put your hand on his mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Don’t say anything, please. You can tell me tomorrow, after we come back home together."

You can tell he’s trying really hard to hold himself back, but eventually he agrees and you take your hand away, getting more comfortable in his arms and falling asleep in each other’s embrace for what Bucky prays won’t be the last time.

The next morning comes and Bucky’s a bundle of nerves, so worried that time seems to go by in a flash.

Suddenly he’s in a courtroom, asking the judge to please repeat his rouling one more time.

A full pardon.

He can’t believe it. Yes, he has to go to court mandated therapy and has a probation period to go through with the team, but still.

Now he feels like time’s going in slow motion, all he can see it’s you as he turns to your seat next to him. You hug him with tears in your eyes as you tell him how proud you are of him and that you knew he was gonna be okay.

Somehow, you made it real for him. Hearing you acknowledge it makes him believe it and then he’s crying too, not able to hold back.

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, making you let go of each other and turn to him, a smile so big on his face that you can see all his stupidly perfect teeth.

You all finally get home and, as soon as you enter the living room on your shared floor, you hear a chorus of “congratulations!” followed by loud noises and confetti falling everywhere.

You’re as shocked as Bucky and, as you turn to Steve you see a surprised look on his face too, which turns confused when he looks at you mirroring his own reaction, the same question in the tip of both of your tongues.

But before you can ask each other, Bucky beats you both to it.

"Did you do this for me?" he's amazed, overjoyed and then as confused as you when you both shake your heads no.

Then the mystery is revealed.

"I did it." All three of you are shocked when you turn around to the voice, thinking you were imagining it, to find a very real Tony Stark standing in front of you, the rest of the team behind him.

"You did this?" you have to make sure you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, I did. I’m amazing, get over it." And with that Tony walks away towards the bar. There he is.

You turn to Bucky and Steve and since all they do is stare at you, you just shrug and go to join the rest of the team in celebration, the super soldiers right behind you.

You joke and laugh and dance all together for hours, until eventually you find yourselves sitting scattered around the living room, various conversations going at the same time.

You're sitting on Bucky’s lap, his arms around you and your head on his chest as he jokes with Steve and Sam when you notice Tony going behind the bar, where nobody else is.

You feel the need to follow him so you kiss Bucky in the cheek and tap his arms twice signaling him to let go of you. When he does, somewhat reluctantly, you get up and walk after Tony.

You lean on the bar, crossing your arms in front of your chest. But before you can say anything he speaks, not even bothering to turn around.

"Don’t need to thank me, Cyborg deserves it.- You roll your eyes at the nickname, but decide to let it go for the time being.

"So what, you’re his biggest fan now?" You know you were kind of pushing it, but you just need to know what changed.

He turns around and you get ready for him to yell at you again, but instead he smiles in a way that was too sweet not to be genuine. Yep, Tony Stark is full of surprises.

"I’m not. But I see the way he looks at you." you raise your eyebrow at him.

"How does he look at me?"

"It's the same way I look at Pepper." He answers without skipping a beat. "I know he knows he's not good enough for you, but I can see he's trying to be. That's all I could ask for." he shrugs and turns back around.

You know he means it, as much of a genius as he is, even he couldn’t come up with a lie like that, that fast.

You stare at the back of his head while he works on his drink, both of you thinking of a way to approach the next subject the right way.

When he turns back to you he puts a glass in front of you, your favorite drink in it, and takes a sip of his own drink. After a few more moments of silence, he decides to speak first.

"I’m sorry. For keeping the whole war thing from you and for how I treated Barnes. I had a lot of time to think about it, I read all the Hydra reports we found on him, I rewatched the footage… I can see now it really was out of his control. I shouldn’t have blamed him for something he had no way of stopping. And I shouldn’t have kept something so big from you. I really am sorry."

You’re glad he finally sees things the way you do, but you can’t help yourself as you say "I appreciate it, and I forgive you, but I’m not the one you have to apologize to."

"Trust me, I know." he sighs. "Pepper already gave me the speech…" he says sheepishly.

God, you love that woman.

He makes his way around the bar and stops in front of you.

He gives you a hug and whispers in your ear. "I’m doing this for you, too. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me and I need you to know I meant everything I just said.-"

You’re a little confused at what he’s talking about until he lets go of you and walks towards the couch where Buck’s still talking to Sam and Steve.

"Bucky," he starts, and the room goes silent "I just want you to know that I’m sorry for blaming you for my parents’ death. And it’s not just because the government believes you’re innocent, after everything I’ve learned about your situation the past month I can’t not believe you were a victim and still call myself a genius. I also read some of dad’s old journals from when he worked with the Howling Commandos... You guys were friends. I realize you wouldn’t have hurt him if you had a choice. And I’m also sorry for the name calling, Terminator."

You roll your eyes with a smile at his last sentence while the others snickered at the nickname.

You go to stand next to Tony and wrap your arm around his waist and, when he wraps his around your shoulders and looks down at you, you gave him a squeeze, letting him know you're grateful to him for doing this.

You look at Bucky who doesn’t quite know what to say so you let go of Tony and make your way to sit back down on his lap, his arms going around your waist automatically. That seems to snap him out of it.

"Thank you, Tony. You don’t have to apologize, I understand why you were angry, but I appreciate it. Howard was a good man, he didn’t deserve an end like that." Tony doesn't say anything back, merely nodding and going to sit next to Pepper.

Well, that’s a start.

Everyone goes back to their own conversations and you turn back to Bucky, who's already looking up at you.

"Thank you." he says low enough so only you can hear.

"I didn’t do anything, it was all him. I told you, anyone with a functioning brain can see that you’re a good person." you tell him with a smile.

He smiles back at you, holding you tighter as you lay your head back on his shoulder while looking at your friends talking and laughing amongst each other. You're happy that things are back to normal, with the added bonus of Bucky finally being completely free.

The party eventually ends and the living room slowly empties out, the last people remaining being you, Bucky and Steve.

"Well, I’m going to sleep. You guys should too, today’s been a long day." Steve says, giving Bucky one last pat on the shoulder and, with a smile to the both of you, he gets up and leaves.

You’re sitting in a comfortable silence, not really feeling the need to get up just yet, when you feel Bucky leave a soft kiss against your shoulder, which makes you sit up a little straighter and turn to look at him, your arms going around his neck.

"We still have a conversation to finish… Are you gonna let me talk now?" He's much more confident than he was last night and you nod, curiosity now taking over you.

"Great… I’m just gonna get to the point. I like you, doll. The longer I spend time with you, the more I feel like myself. I feel at peace, like the last 70 years never happened because I know that’s not what you see when you look at me. You’ve never been scared of me, never looked at me like I was a monster. You spend  time with me because you want to, not because you have to. You don’t mind having me around even when we don’t talk and all I do is look at you. You comfort me when I’m sad, calm me down when I have a panic attack and hold me until I fall asleep after I have a nightmare. You never judge me or make me feel guilty or like I’m too much, and you never push me to talk about anything, you’re always patient and let me take my time. I truly appreciate everything you do for me and I need you to know that. And to be clear, when I say I like you I mean it in the ‘I’d like to take you out on a date’ way."

You’re almost crying now, your heart melting as you look at an expectant Bucky. You honestly have no words to reply, so you do the only thing you can think of.

You lean down and kiss him softly, feeling him kiss you back almost right away, his lips are so soft you almost moan into the kiss. After a few moments you pull away, forehead resting against his.

"I really hope that means you like me back." he says with a goofy smile, making you giggle.

"Yes, I like you too." you gave him another kiss. "You make me feel seen. You make me feel important. You make me feel safe. I love spending time with you and having you close. And I’d love to go on a date with you."

This time he’s the one to initiate the kiss and you can’t help but smile into it. Suddenly he gets up, picking you up bridal style and making you squeal in surprise.

He laughs at your face while he takes you both to your room, where he lays you gently on the bed.

"I could’ve walked, you know." You tell him while chuckling.

"I know." he answers before basically lying on top of you while you laugh, smile seared onto his face.

You hang onto each other as you fall asleep, more than glad to have found the other and both silently planning your future together.

Bonus part

Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes @ordelixx

[brittscafe]

don’t know if you write this but, can you write some hc about fem!reader and a captain ( Kenpachi, Gin, Kensei and Shunsui, add if you want someone!) being divorced? Like them getting married because of mutual agreement or it is good for both parties when they were younger, been together to a bit before the storyline of bleach stars and divorce, reader starts working with royal guard (not being a part with them, just doing some important stuff there) and after the last war she started living at Seireitei agian so they of course see each other again, and perhaps they low key miss each other, it’s totally coll if you don’t want to! have a lovely day! 🧡

Yessss of course!! <3 I made these so damn fluffy 😭

Kenpachi:

He hasn't really thought about in years because he's kept himself busy with his squad and all.

At nights when he's lonely and trying to go to sleep is when he thinks about you.

When he hears news about you returning back to the Seireitei, he visits you at night.

One night he cannot handle missing you any longer, so he shows up on your doorstep.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've missed your pretty face."

You invite him inside for tea, knowing that he doesn't drink any.

You two engage in a very long, deep conversation that involves talk of you two possibly getting back together.

I imagine that before Kenny decides its time for him to leave, he wraps you up in a huge bear hug where his head is resting on your shoulder.

He loves the way he feels so comfortable in your embrace.

Honestly, the night probably ends with Kenny not leaving and you two ending up in bed together...

Whether you decide to stayed divorced or not is up to you...

Gin:

Says he doesn't think about you nor cares for you anymore when it's quite the opposite.

You're on his mind every second of the day.

He has trouble going to sleep without you.

Wastes in time in visiting you when he hears about your return back.

Of course, you want to take things slow so it takes off with you two meeting at places in public.

You slowly start getting more comfortable around Gin and invite him over to your home sometimes.

Is literally attached to your hip, he's kind of like a dog.

Will sleep on your couch if you let him.

Sometimes, you can hear him mumbling in his sleep about how much he's missed you.

It kind of breaks your heart because you've missed him too.

One night you allow Gin to sleep in your bed with you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and resting his head on your chest.

Your fingers glide through his silver hair and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

I could see you two potentially getting back together or Gin might just end up breaking your heart by betraying the Soul Society...

Kensei:

Probably the only one to keep his cool manner after all these years.

Won't admit to missing you because then he feels weak.

Since you two didn't get married out of love, Kensei felt like the divorce was easy and he thought he wouldn't bother him.

boy did his heart skip a beat when he heard you were working for the royal guard.

He does everything in his power to ignore you/ not see you.

One day, you both happen to be walking on the same path and bump into each other.

Kensei's awkward, cutting the convo short and running off with his heart pounding against his chest.

You have to take things very slow, running into each other and the convos start to get longer and they flow smoother.

You end up arranging to meet a bar and discuss things.

You both admit that you still have lingering feelings once you have alcohol in your system to ease the nerves.

You both agree to take things slow and the night ends with Kensei grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss on it as a promise to try.

Shunsui:

Hides his pain and suffering behind all his laughing and corny jokes.

Goes to the bar most often and often comes back to the barracks drunk.

Sometimes Jushiro has to take care of him and he'll cry in his lap/arms.

Buries himself in his work to forget about how much he misses spending everyday with you.

Once you come back to the Seireitei, Shunsui likes to avoid you because he's afraid of his feelings.

You probably have to go and corner him in his office.

He offers you sake and pours himself a big glass of it.

You can see that he's nervous, but he's keeping his cool.

You talk about how things were in the past, chatting and laughing as Shunsui's face grows more red.

Before the night is over, Shunsui kisses you and reignites every single feeling you've ever had for him.

Let's be honest, the two of you probably have a heated make out session with your hands exploring each other's bodies.

But then you pull away, saying how you don't want to rush things and you need to take your time.

Shunsui agrees, so you decide to start seeing each other again.

You two go out on dates, but they somehow always end up with you two making out.

It's not a bad thing, but then you two decide to set boundaries and your relationship flourishes.

[bvttoneyes]

request where Benny Weir gets set up on a blind date with the reader

"300 Awkward Blind Dates Later ~ (benny weir x fem!reader's version)

tw! idk cursing ig

i forgot abt my inbox's ngl also guys putting the same req in my inbox twice is not going to make me do it faster!! also ive alr had to delete some reqs too PLEASEEE read my rules befire requesting any songs

It was Rory's fault he was doing this. He complained ONE TIME like a week ago about being single and so Rory put him on a blind date?! When Rory had told the whole friend group about setting up a blind date tonight for Benny everyone laughed, except Benny of course.

It was way too last minute to cancel the date so he had to just suck it up and go on this date with someone he had no interest to know about. Great.

"Hey Rory, next time you set someone up on a date don't you think the people going on a date should know about it?" Benny says, with an annoyed tone, sarcastically.

Rory's eyebrows furrowed, "she knew about it, she's going on the date. So by your rules... it's fine!"

He then walked off before Benny could hit him. Ethan turned to look at him with an amused smile, so did Sarah and Erica.

"Well, we're gonna go to class. Have fun on your date tonight." Sarah said teasingly before the two girls walked off laughing.

Ethan just patted his shoulder, somewhat comfortingly but also so Benny wouldn't see him laugh.

He was sitting in class, not paying attention. Just thinking about tonight. Rory wasn't known for having the best type in woman for example: Debbie Dazzle. The evil fucking doll that was turning the entire student body, and part of their friend group, into dolls!

"Mr. Weir! Whats the answer?" The teacher yelled across the room.

He was awaken from his daydreaming, he looked at the bored and it was blank. Nothing. Shit.

"uh, France...?" Benny asked with his confused smile.

"that might be correct," the teacher begun, "if this were Social Studies, but Mr. Weir... this is Science! Care to share with the class what you were dreaming about that was so important you can't pay attention?"

The look the teacher had on his face of sarcasm and a smug annoying smile. But Benny just shook his head in response.

"Then pay attention to the lesson. If I have to get on to you again I'm writing you up." Then the teacher got right back to teaching the class.

He made it through the rest of the school day without thinking about the date, but when he was walking with Ethan home it is alll he could talk and think about.

"Why would Rory set me on a date and not tell me until that day! Who does that ya know? And it'd be too rude to cancel this last minute... wait... Rory never even told me where!" He ranted about this whole thing the whole walk home, Ethan not really being able to get a word in at all.

He went to his house, found somewhat nice clothes. Three buttons at the top sorta shirt, and jeans. It was different from the shirts he usually wears because it wasn't just vertical lines across the shirt with a bunch of colors. It was one to two color max kinda shirt. He even brushed his hair.

He called Rory and found out where this date was, and he took his grandma's car. His brain then started filling with all of the positives that could come out of this date.

What if you're smokin hot?

What if you've seen every star wars movie?

What if you were nice?

His mind was just filling up with "what if". He got to the Restaurant you two were meeting up at, not super romantic but not McDonald's kind of casual.

He spots a really gorgeous girl sitting by herself at a booth, that has to be you?

He walks over, "Hey are you here on a blind date? Set up by Rory?"

You nod at the man, "Yeah... I don't really know him that well he kind of just started telling me about his single friend..."

He laughs at that before adding on, "I didn't know we were going on a date until today. He also did not tell me your name?"

You smile at him before responding, "(Y/N), and you're... Benny right?"

He nods in reassurance.

You were both there for hours, laughing and chatting. Until the restaurant was starting to close. You had both had appetisers, main dish, milkshakes, and then more dessert.

They told you they were closing and you both realized how long you had been there.

"It's been really fun talking to you... could I get your number?" Benny asked you, with a nervous undertone in his voice.

You smile and nod your head in agreement, taking one of the napkins and a pen from the checkbook, writing your number down to talk to him more often. You hand the napkin to him, as he grabs the pen and checkbook out of your hands. He had gotten the money from his grandma before the date but you didn't have to know that obviously. He actually told her to give him more incase he wanted to buy a video game.

He wasn't expecting to stay long, just get mac 'n cheese and then decide you two won't work well together. But he didn't want the video game and the amount he brought perfectly covered the check with tip.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Benny asks after signing the checkbook and putting the cash on the table.

You looked at him with somewhat a shocked look, "oh, uh yeah if you don't mind. My dad said he was going to be a little bit late."

He heard the nervous chuckle at the end of that, and that is when he realised he fell for you. Hard.

[rekino2114]

Fami revealing her identity to you

A/n:this is the second part to the post I did yesterday with makima that @trystan422 requested

Fami felt a pit in her stomach that not even food could fill, no matter how much she ate, she still felt sick and empty, worry was consuming her like it never had before, the worry of losing you.

It had been just a bit more than a month since you started dating and it has been the best time of her life she didn't think it was possible but she had found something or rather someone who she loved more than food.

normally, she wouldn't particularly care that much if someone found out her identity she wasn't doing that much to hide it anyway and she could deal with them easily If she truly wanted to.

But you, you were different she loved you and you leaving her would have broken her heart in a way that couldn't be repaired so it was better to tell you early in the release to not completely break yours too.

"Hey fami are you alright? You haven't eaten anything since you invited me here"

"No....there is something I need to tell you, its really important"

"Go ahead then I'm all ears"

"I'll go directly to the point,...... i am a devil"

Her emotionless voice and expression made it seem like this conversation was an easy one for her but in reality that couldn't be farther from the truth as she was panicking greatly on the inside.

"To be more specific, I am the famine devil, one of the four horseman of apocalypse, the others are my sisters: control, war and.....death, to put it bluntly I am really powerful"

"Feel free to tell that to anyone you want after you leave me, I won't hurt you or any of your friends for knowing that information, it would hurt me too much to see you in any kind of pain, for the same reason I won't do anything to you if you break up with me, I would much rather see you happy without me than you staying with me become of fear"

After her speech fami fell silent and pulled her hat over her face and closed her eyes,ready for you to walk away, she was very surprised when she heard you laughing instead

"So you're famine, I always thought your name was unique, I guess now I know why"

Fami blushed slightly and answered still confused

"Y-yeah I couldn't come up with a human name"

"I think it's beautiful if it's any consolation"

"Thank you I appreciate it"

You remained silent for a moment before walking over to where fami was sitting, taking her hat off and looking at her eyes

"Please don't think I'm gonna leave you, you mean so much to me, even if we've been together for not that long I can see the love you have for me, the way you look at me, the way you share food with me and the way you talk to me, I can see the love in everything you do, I know you love me, regardless of you being a devil, you're my girlfriend and nothing will change that"

After hearing everything you said fami felt the happiest she ever was, even eating the best food in the world couldn't compare to this feeling, she smiled the brightest smile she could muster and spoke such simple words yet filled with so much love.

"......thank you, truly"

"You're welcome, now let's order some pizza ok? You haven't eaten for like 15 minutes, I didn't know you could physically do that"

Fami chuckled and kept looking at you with a loving gaze

"Yes please I'd like that"

[captain039]

In plain sight

Aemond x niece!reader

Warnings: AOB, swearing, HOTD things, targcest, incest uncle/niece, tension, angst, smut, sexual things, reader is Rhaenyra’s daughter (specified brown hair), plus size reader, fat shaming

Can I fix him? Probably not. I fucking love his actor Ewan omg he is a precious baby boy😭 Aemond can fucking die by dragon fire 👌🏻😂 but I will still write about him because I’m delulu

Your dragon: Another Daughter of Silver wing roughly the same size as Caraxes, looks like Syrax just different colour and size with a different shape head closer to Silverwing mix of grey body and white wings Name - Elea

Set around after Rhaenys’s death

PART 1

Being sent back to the red keep was daunting, your mothers story’s of her life in the keep didn’t seem this daunting with her fathers rule and her mother when she was alive. Nobody knows you here, if they did it’d be a shock nobody regards you as a Targaryen, they see you and think of a lowlife piglet as some have said. Despite your mothers proudness of you, despite her always wanting to say this is my first born show some damn respect or suffer dragon fire, you always dressed down, made handmaid dresses, common folk dresses and stood on the crowd or to the side line. When your mother would spot you she would try to beckon you over, you always told her you were too sick to go to the meetings, party’s, gatherings whatever was happening, but instead you’d been there as a servant hidden. When your mother would address it you’d shrug her off, more than once have you snapped at her accidentally before apologising and just saying it’s for the best. You’ve never ridden your dragon, to scared too even when she came out of the dragon pit and claimed you. It scared you that day when your mother was heading to go out on Syrax and another dragon appeared, much bigger than Syrax and the colours of the moon with silver eyes staring at you. She bent her neck to you while your mother beamed proudly urging you to go on. You didn’t, you apologised to the dragon in high Valyria, ordered it to go back to its den and bid your mother farewell. Your dragon Elea did not take kind to being told to go back to bed, you were out taking a walk when she swooped you, landed heavily in front of you and snorted angrily. How you ever explained to dragon that you cannot ride her was beyond you, it took three weeks before she gave in to your demands to reside where she lived and be merry on her own before she chose you. Now with everything that’s happened, your mother has been more persistent about you riding Elea, this war turning to the dragons to take down the Queen of them all, Vhagar and her prince rider. You couldn’t though, so you snuck off.

You weren’t here to reminisce though, or think about how you left your mother without telling her or Elea. You went to the red keep, managed to get past the guarded gate with the help of Mysaria and her whisperers and got a job as a maid in the castle right under their noses. You thought all was going well till you met eyes with the prince regent and his one good eye glinted. You were pouring drinks at the council, standing off to the side with a jug of wine in hand pretending not to listen. This is what you were good for, listening, gathering information, not riding dragons into war. You see the flick of fingers and walk to pour more wine into the princes cup. You hold your breath, too many times have you caught his scent and frozen from it. You glanced briefly to his face, first mistake, his nose flared, jaw clenching his one good eye staring at you. Another gift from your father no true light purple Targaryen eye colour. You quickly looked away and resumed your post. Nothing of importance in these meetings so far apart from the prince regent taking his mother off the council.

You were roaming the halls hoping to steal some secrets or whispered when someone called your name, your true name and not the servant name you made up. You pretended not listen knowing that voice too well till you were snatched into a thankful empty room, an angry alpha prince staring down at you.

“My prince!” You say surprised and bow your head.

“Drop the act little niece” his words are venom but you keep your eyes on the ground and shake your head.

“I am of no relation to the prince, apologies if I have deceived you in that way” you bend your knees in a curtsey keeping your eyes on the floor and your breath still. He says your name and you try not to flinch at the smoothness of it. Instead you take a small breath regretting it when his scent hits your nose. Two fingers go under your chin and you’re forced to look at him, you don’t know how he could recognise you, how anyone could, nobody knew you.

“My prince I am late for my duties” you say in hopes of deterring him. He holds your chin and tilts your head to the side slightly making you frown before he leans down. Hot breath fans against your neck and your body shudders.

“I could always sense you in the shadows” he mutters.

“Smell you close by but always hiding” he adds and you try to relax your body.

“Are you embarrassed of being a Targaryen?” He asks and your hand moves without warning. You grip his wrist and tug it from your chin his head lifting up. Your hand holds his wrist tightly like you want to snap it off and you struggle to breathe.

“I am the embarrassment” it slips from your lips. You stare harshly at his top buttons on his jacket, eyes narrow.

“So you admit you are who I say you are?” You can hear his smirk and realise you hadn’t let go of his wrist. Holding it between you both.

“Excuse me my prince” is all you manage before you’re holding your dress just above your feet and rushing down the halls to the servants quarters a burning in your chest.

Next part ->

[hoosbandewan]

THE Billy Taylor Post

I have a love/hate relationship with The Halcyon as a show overall. I don't feel like all of it is written well, but the area in which it definitely excels is Billy Taylor's story. You know, the cutie pie bellboy that Ewan plays and who is always bugging out in all of the gifs we make of him. He's young, he's sweet, and he's insanely adorable.

And his story is also the best in the entire show. In my opinion!!

I also cry whenever I think about Billy for too long but we'll get into that later, hehe.

Spoilers for The Halcyon, btw!

If you haven't seen it, The Halcyon is set at a fancy hotel in London just as WWII has come to Britain. Also, fair warning that this post is a little bit all over the place because I have SO MANY BILLY TAYLOR FEELS

At the start of the show, Billy is seventeen and working at The Halcyon as a bellboy. He's portrayed by Ewan as someone who's maybe a little bit... no thoughts, head empty. I jokingly refer to Billy as having big NPC energy when he's in the background of scenes because it looks like he has radio static going through his head whenever he's not being interacted with. And like to think that it's not because it was Ewan's first gig as an actor. I think Billy genuinely is a little bit daft. He's the baby himbo. He's the golden retriever puppy who isn't the smartest in the room but he makes up for it with hard work and dedication and pure sweetness.

I mean, he's only seventeen and he appears to be one of the higher ranking bellboys at the hotel. He's given important tasks like welcoming ~secret guests to the hotel, showing new hires where to go, and personally taking care of high ranking guests' belongings. He's clearly trusted by the management and is, more importantly, very good at his job.

But, bless his heart... Billy can be kind of a mess. He's forgetful and sometimes just plain thick. He loses the family dog of the lord and lady who own the hotel while taking it out for a walk. (Literally how does that happen. Billy.) He bungles the staff poker game by revealing his hand without realizing. He's also a silly little dumbass when he and a couple of the other hotel staff are at the movie theater and see the lady who owns the hotel (who's there on a !secret date) and he straight up points at her from several aisles back with his eyes all bugging out. Be more obvious, Billy!

Billy is young and naive and maybe not the smartest guy around, but you know what? He's good at what he does (most of the time, lol) and he's a damn hard worker.

He's also someone who knows that people are reluctant to believe in him and he clearly doesn't like that. Billy signs up to join the army the moment he turns eighteen and, although we don't see it, his mum Peggy (who works at the hotel as the telephonist aka switchboard operator) mentions to the hotel general manager that there was a bit of an argument between them over it.

“Do you know why he was so upset that I didn’t want him signing up? He thought I was saying he wasn’t good enough.”

He also gets angry with his mum when his call-up papers do arrive. I know I called him daft before, so I'm giving him credit where credit is due - he actually very cleverly notices that the letter should have gone to his family's house, but it showed up at the hotel instead. And, upon learning that he's been assigned to the Royal Artillery instead of what he wanted - the engineers - he knows it was his mum (with the help of the hotel general manager, but he doesn't know that part) who moved things around so that Billy could stay close to home.

He angrily tells her, "I ain't a child no more," and storms out of the room. Billy wants to prove himself. He wants to be a grown up with responsibilities and he wants to be believed in.

You feel for him, but you also feel for his mum, who is watching her only son grow up and enlist in the war effort. At one point, Peggy mentions that she was only 19 or 20 by the time she'd had Billy, so she was a young mother (and still is!). Her worrying and fretting over him clearly annoys him because he's a teenager, but, god you feel for her. We also learn that Billy's dad, Jim, was drafted to fight in the war so she must be out of her mind with worry. I'll get more into my Billy feels as related to his mum in a bit. But I mean... just look at this line of Peggy's after Billy's joined the army:

“I pray. I fuss. I hold him a little tighter each time I see him."

Before I move on, GOSH, Billy is such a teenager when it comes to his interactions with his mum, lol. He doesn't want her fussing over him or being affectionate. He shrugs her off when she tries to fix his collar. He's reluctant to let her kiss his cheek... but he lets her do it anyway, of course.

Speaking of his family, Billy's relationship with his little sister, Dora, is also so cute and I love them. She tells another character that she doesn't miss him once he's moved out to join the army because she thinks he's "annoying" but she really does love him, lbr. And he's clearly very close with her, too.

At one point, their family home is destroyed in the Blitz so Peggy and Dora move into The Halcyon for a while. Billy watches his sister on mornings that he can get away from his army duties. He carries her around piggyback style. He lets her wear his army hat. He calls her "squirt." They're freaking adorable.

There's also a cute little moment during one of the Blitz raids where Billy's mum and sister are in the hotel shelter and Dora is frightened. Her mum tells her to listen for the sounds of the artillery and says, “That’s our Billy. He’s protecting us.”

And he is. Billy is a protector. He's always looking out for the people he cares about. When Kate, the maid he has a crush on, is SA'd by the Count, Billy angrily confronts him and even points the Count's own fucking gun at him. AND HE PULLS THE TRIGGER. He was about to fucking murder this man for doing what he did to Kate!

Billy is a fucking real one. God, he's the best character.

I don't have anywhere specific to put this, but I wanted to mention how much I love the little detail the writers added in about Billy's handiness and interest in machinery:

He is seen chatting with one of the waiters about the guns they use in the war and is later able to correctly identify the type of German plane flying over the hotel.

Later on in the season, The Halcyon's general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the hotel generator and lamenting that Billy was the one who always maintained it before he left to join the army. (I will come back to this later because omg)

Billy himself mentions to his mum at one point that he's planning on helping a neighbor with some things she needs done in her shelter and that he expects it to be a quick job.

When he joins the army, he's put in charge of operating one of the anti-aircraft guns - directing his fellow soldiers and being the one to manually operate the machine itself.

Now that I think I've covered every other Billy feel, I have to talk about... the worst one. The saddest one. His death. /:

I don't know how to say this without sounding like a complete [Michael Gavey voice] loooser, but I can't really think about Billy and his story in this show for too long without... crying? Oof.

I think that's a testament to just how well written his storyline was in this show. They make you care so fucking much about this sweet, innocent, pure-hearted, good to a fault, daft, brave young man so much that, when he dies in the Blitz, it really fucking hurts.

I swear, thinking about Billy Taylor deals psychic damage to me every time.

And I think that, part of the reason that Billy's death hurts so much is because of how it's shown to us. We all know the famous orange scene between Billy and Kate so I'm sorry for ruining it by making it sad, lol. But that scene ends with Kate telling Billy that she'll meet him the next morning to share the orange with him. So when morning comes and the hotel staff are arriving and see Kate waiting impatiently for "someone" who hasn't arrived, your heart fucking sinks immediately.

They don't even tell us about Billy's death by showing Peggy learning of the news. We're told through Kate's POV. He doesn't show up to their meeting in the morning and, when she arrives for her shift, the staff has been gathered around by the general manager. Only then do we learn that Billy was killed by a parachute mine the night before. And we follow Kate to the same closet where Billy gave her the orange, where she's sobbing and cradling the fruit in her hands.

But what's even sadder is that Billy remains a presence throughout the rest of the show. You, as the viewer, grieve him alongside not only his family, but also the people who knew him and worked with him.

When the hotel loses power during a bombing one night and the general manager and head concierge are trying to fix the generator, they're lost for what to do and even lost for words because Billy was the one who always handled the generator. They end up fixing the thing by taking a wrench and banging the side of it because "That's what Billy used to do." And it works. The generator turns back on thanks to Billy. Thanks to the memory of him. And the concierge look up and says, "Clever lad," as though Billy can hear him.

Of course, Peggy spends the rest of the season grappling with the loss of Billy, too. The other characters mention more than once that she's "talking about Billy as though he's still here" and that it's worrying them. Eventually, the general manager sits down with her and she says that she does know he's gone but that it's so hard to believe because she wants to think that he could just walk through the door at any moment.

But, oh my god, the saddest moment of the show for me... is the moment when Peggy is walking through the hallway in the staff area of the hotel and she sees one of the bellboys walking towards her. He has his head down so his face is in shadow but he's about the same height as Billy... and you can see in Peggy's face that she's allowing herself - just for that one moment - to imagine that it's Billy. To let herself think that he's still alive. You're watching her process the scene before her and seeing her think, "Could it be him?" for those few seconds... until she sees the bellboy's face. And, oh my god, it absolutely wrecks me every single time.

Billy's death is the reason that Peggy gives up the one thing she has left - Dora - and sends her away to the countryside along with the other children who are being evacuated from London. Because she can't bear the thought of losing her last living child.

Billy is the character who shows the audience how cruel and unforgiving the war is. That it can take anyone, no matter how sweet and kind and young and good the person is.

And it illustrates the enormity of the chasm they leave behind.

Billy's loss is felt in everyone, from his family to the people he worked with to the girl he had a crush on. AND IT'S FELT IN ME, TOO, GODDAMN

This was so long and I may not have even touched upon all of my feels but thanks for coming to my Billy Taylor TED Talk. I fucking love him. The writers did an amazing job writing him. 10/10, no notes whatsoever. I cry every single time.

He's such an underrated Ewan character and, I know I haven't mentioned it much, but Ewan's portrayal of him is flawless. He's perfect at capturing all the silliness, daftness, and earnestness that makes up our sweet little Billy!

Tl;dr - Everyone should love Billy Taylor!

Aaaand here's another gif of our sweet boy to end this massive post:

[wildernessuntothemselves]

You Are My Queen Now | Final Part

Word Count: 15.4k

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Summary: Growing up as a child of a minor lord, you had it instilled in you since a young age that you needed to find yourself a rich and affluent husband that would not only provide a comfortable life for you, but would also help further your family’s position in the court. So it was of the utmost importance that you remain a virgin in order to land such a coveted husband.

The problem lies when the man you secretly love, Prince Beomgyu, suddenly and unabashedly propositions you.

Warnings: somnophilia, dry humping, thigh riding, cunnilingus, mentions of domestic abuse, physical fight, handjob, boobjob, gyu being pussy whipped, slutshaming, gore, major character death, and some other warnings i can't give without spoiling the ending but just know it's a very dark fic

“Beomgyu, what are you doing? Get down from there!” You shout, noticing Beomgyu scaling one of the nearby walls of the garden. 

“I’ll be right down” He yells back to you over his shoulder. 

“You’re not a boy anymore. You could fall down and hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.” He protests stubbornly, his words faltering as he almost loses his footing on the wall, making you gasp, your heart plummeting down the same way you imagined he would have. 

“Beomgyu, don’t stress me out like this. It’s bad for the baby.” You wail, your pregnant state lending a nice vulnerable effect to your pleading words. It works very well because in the next moment Beomgyu gives in and starts climbing back down the wall. He walks towards you with shoulders slumped and a dejected frown on his face 

“What has gotten into you?” You ask him and he shrugs. “I wanted to get you a sunflower.” 

You furrow your eyebrows at the silly reason behind his dangerous action, an unwanted memory of pearl necklaces and bloody bandages springing forth into your mind. You shake your head to dispel the intrusive thoughts. “You could’ve had one of the gardeners get one.” 

“But that’s not the same.” He whines, plopping down to the floor next to you. “I wanted to get you one, you know, like old times. But all I got are these stupid flowers.” He throws said flowers at your feet, sulking. 

You roll your eyes at his little tantrum. “Beomgyu, you shower me in gifts every day.” 

“I know but it doesn’t mean much anymore. I want to give you something meaningful to cheer you up.” He sighs, getting closer to you and cupping your face between his hands. You refrain from pulling back at his words that remind you why you’re in such a sour mood. “I hate seeing you so sad.” 

Lately, there have been a lot of unflattering rumors swirling around about you following your wedding and especially after your pregnancy has been announced. People have been calling you all kinds of nasty things–a homewrecker, a cheater, disloyal, unworthy… and of course, a whore. 

Among Taehyun’s supporters, you’re seen as an adulterer who betrayed her husband and spread her legs for the king in order to win the crown. They theorize that you’ve been prostituted since a young age by your own father (a claim you have no doubt has been pushed primarily by Heejin’s family) and planted at the palace to seduce to the younger prince before jumping to Taehyun when the king refused to let Beomgyu marry you, then jumping back to Beomgyu when his father was out of the picture. 

Even among those who support Beomgyu, you’re seen as a low-born noble who clawed her way up the ranks by seducing the king and having him get rid of his rightful wife. They believe you not fit to be his queen, that you’re below him because you’re not only not royal but that you don’t even bring him or the kingdom any political or monetary advantages. On the contrary, you only bring them war and death. 

Neither side is kind to you. They both see you as the whore who bewitched the two men. How else could a woman of your standing get these two powerful men to fight over you to the death like this? 

“I only wanted to do good.” You look down in pain. You didn’t expect Taehyun’s men and his people to hold any fondness for you but for even Beomgyu’s vassals and the common people to view you so disfavorably? It crushed you. "I tried to help them. Why are they doing this?"

“Do you want me to stop the project? Round up those who talk ill of you and punish them?” Beomgyu asks firmly, that fiery anger he gets when someone hurts you blazing in his eyes.

You shake your head. "No. Let them. They're not worth my time." It’s no use, punishing them won’t make it any better. They’ll just hate you more. Only Beomgyu loves you. You will be safe as long as you stay by his side. Only he can ever love you. 

He sighs defeatedly. “I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better.” 

“Come, lie down on my lap.” You gesture to him and he obeys, laying his head on your thighs and facing your growing belly. He kisses it, grinning in that endearing way that makes his eyes crinkle and your heart leap in your chest. “I can’t wait to meet you, baby.” 

You smile at his airy giggles and pick up one of the flowers he collected, snapping off most of the stem so you can nestle the rest between the strands of his hair. You then grab another flower and do the same until his hair is filled up with the colorful petals in a delicate crown upon his head. 

“Stunning.” You awe, prodding his head up just a little bit to see your handiwork. 

“Am I?” He arches one eyebrow, teasing. 

“Very. But you could look even more stunning.” You ponder, taking off your necklaces and wrapping them around his neck one by one. “Now I know why you love dressing me up so much.” You half-tease, half-swoon at how breathtaking he looks with the mess of different flowers in his hair and your necklaces draped around his neck. He looks just like what you imagined those woodland nymphs you read about in your books would look like. “Remember when I used to put makeup on you when we were kids?” 

He laughs heartily at the memory. “Of course, you always had fun at the beginning but then you’d get all pouty and annoyed and huff about me looking prettier than you.” 

“Well, you were.” You cross your arms over your chest, huffing. 

Beomgyu suddenly sits up and pulls you onto his lap, burying a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and pressing your face inches from his. “And now? Still think I’m pretty?” 

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling hot. “Well, yeah… But also sexy.”

He smiles, pleased, and pulls you into a sweet kiss. 

But when he pulls back, face still so close to yours, you can easily see the bags under his eyes that droop heavily from fatigue. As far as you know, he’s winning the war, but that triumph necessitated an insurmountable amount of work and time spent in meetings and war councils that went on from the brink of dawn till late at night. He still made sure to put aside time to spend with you and the baby growing in your belly, but even that must be taxing on his already depleted energy. 

You know you shouldn’t feel bad for him–he’s doing this to get rid of his one and only competition–but your heart can’t see your Beomgyu suffer and not ache along with him. You know if you tell him to go take a nap, he would refuse, insisting that spending time with you was more important than even his own health, so you go with the next best thing. 

You lay him back on your lap, running your fingers through his silky hair while you murmur a slow love song to him, trying to lull him into a peaceful sleep right there in your arms. 

“No, I don’t want to sleep.” He whines, catching onto what you’re doing. After all, you’ve been doing it for a few days now. 

“Please, baby, for me?” You whisper softly, trying not to scare away the sleep from his pretty eyes. “I need a little nap.”

“Oh, well if you need it.” He yawns, giving in. wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your belly. 

You smile at your tired lover fondly, leaning back against the tree behind you and closing your eyes before beginning to sing again, the both of you drifting into a peaceful, warm slumber under the soothing rays of the dazzling sun. 

______________________________

You wake up with a liquid heat gathered in the pit of your stomach. Anyone else experiencing this strange sensation might've thought it unusual, but not you. You’re quite used to it by now. 

You register Beomgyu’s wet tongue lapping at your pussy before you even open your eyes to confirm it. Beomgyu has been at this for weeks, starting the day with his face buried between your legs. He has been even more insatiable ever since he got you pregnant. He can’t even look at the little bump of your belly without getting heated up. 

As for you, you've heard that pregnancy can decrease your libido and make you withdraw from sex but in your experience, it's been quite the opposite and Beomgyu was more than happy to satisfy your heightening needs. Even when you aren’t in the mood to have actual sex, Beomgyu would content himself with eating you out and jerking himself off like he's doing right now.

Basically he would wake you up with his face buried in your pussy and if you were in the mood, you would grab his hair and pull him up to get fucked and if you weren’t in the mood you'd just let him give you a nice little orgasm while he got himself off too–a little something to get the both of you through the day. 

You feel Beomgyu’s hands leave your thighs and move up your body to push your delicate nightdress down to expose your breasts, moaning out as they come into his view. "They're getting bigger, huh?"

You blush under his lewd gaze. "Yeah."

"Push them together." He groans, jerking urgently at his cock. 

Beomgyu has always liked your breasts, and now that they’ve been getting bigger, he’s become positively obsessed with them. Whenever you two are alone, things would always devolve into him latching onto them, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh until it’s all red and glistening with his saliva. Even when he is too busy to properly pay them attention to them because he has to do paperwork or the like, he would sit you on his lap and write with one hand while holding one of your breasts with the other, intermittently squeezing it like his own personal stress reliever as he reads over and signs the documents. 

You obey his request, pushing your breasts together and flicking your fingers over your nipples, whining at him for neglecting your pussy for those few seconds. "Puppy." 

Maybe you're more horny than you thought. 

"Want me to take you, baby?" He bites his lip, noting the way your pussy gushes between your splayed legs.

You do, but you want to mess with him even more so you shake your head. "No. Want my king to hump the bed like the horny dog he is." 

Beomgyu doesn’t shy away for a second, biting his lip at your filthy request. "I got you, my queen."

He leans down to catch your pussy with his mouth once again while simultaneously pushing a couple of fingers inside you. But it wasn’t his mouth or his fingers that truly drove you insane, it was the way he ground his hips against the mattress in pace with his pumps as if he was imagining it was his dick fucking you instead. 

You love seeing him so needy for you, yet so obedient. He’ll take anything you give him even if that was just your attention as he got the both of you off. 

And it doesn’t take him long to do that. He cums first, his moans half-muffled by your pussy before he pulls his head up to let you look at his face that is twisted in pleasure, just like he knows you like. His fingers keep pumping rapidly into you as his own hips stutter and he stares at you, slack-jawed and pleading. 

“Cum for me, my queen.” 

“Beomgyu, fuck!” You scream, grabbing him by the hair and pushing his head back down, grinding yourself against his pretty face as you orgasm. 

Fuck, how have neither of you had your fill of each other yet? How are you just as needy now as the first night even as you lay boneless in your post-orgasmic bliss?  

Beomgyu climbs up your body to press a soft kiss against your lips, giggling when you kiss him back dazedly. “I really tired you out, huh?” 

“Just a little bit.” You answer lazily, leaning into his touch as he carasses your body. "You don’t have to leave the bed, you know? I can have the maids come and take care of everything, get you your food, your painting supplies… my mother says pregnant women need plenty of rest." 

You roll your eyes. He’s been trying to stop you from making even the slightest bit of effort ever since the pregnancy was discovered. "I'm not that heavily pregnant yet. I can still move." 

"I know. I just want you to be safe and comfortable. Both of you." He rubs your belly lovingly. 

"We are, puppy." You really are. Beomgyu is going above and beyond to make you happy. He has put himself completely at your beck and call–along with everyone he rules and everything he owns. You want for nothing in your blissful little bubble that he has made for you. 

Only, you wish that bubbles weren’t so fragile. No matter how much he and you try, you can never completely keep the bad thoughts and horrible dread at bay. He doesn’t tell you but you know he is closing in on Taehyun now. You hear it all around the palace, and you worry that you will receive news of his demise any day now. 

That is why you sorely need any distraction you can get. You can’t stay in bed with your calamitous thoughts all day. 

You shake your head at Beomgyu and smile. “Don’t worry about me. I just want to spend some time with my friends.”

____________________________

Friends–a word that has been foreign to you all your life, but somehow you’ve managed to gain a few friends this time around–made yourself a little group from among the ladies in waiting and others who frequented Beomgyu’s court. 

You can’t say that you’re close to most of them, nor do you really talk about your private affairs but it's still nice to be around people who are there by their own volition rather than having been forced to accommodate you because the royals ordered them to.

Yes, you’re not close to them but that doesn’t mean you know nothing of their situations. Secrets aren’t a thing in the socially intricate and gossipy landscape of a royal palace, and everyone’s business gets passed around like a particularly sublime wine for all to enjoy. And now that you have your own circle of friends, you too get to be privy to those poorly-kept secrets. You learn that you weren’t misery’s sole companion, that everyone else is touched by it too. 

Even the high-bred ladies suffer from their own misfortunes; Lady Minjun can't give her husband a child and he resents her for it, making his distaste clear by sleeping around and fathering numerous bastards from other women. Lady Namjoo’s husband prefers the company of men. Lady Hayoon’s in-laws aren’t fond of her and they make it their personal mission to sabotage her marriage to her husband who won’t even stand up for her in front of his family. And Lady Chaeyoung's husband hurts her behind closed doors. 

Chaeyoung was the first of your so-called friends. After she had cheekily congratulated you for putting Heejin in her place, you two started speaking more and more and eventually became close–well, as close as the situation permits. She had a quiet demeanor which made her blend into the background when she was around other ladies, which is why you didn’t take much note of her before, but when you were alone, she demonstrated an impressive sharpness of wit and a penchant for bluntness that you’ve quickly grown to appreciate. 

Out of all the ladies you’ve befriended, she was the one you’re most likely to actually consider a friend. Which is why you were all the more heartbroken when you noticed the suspicious marks on her skin.

She had at first dismissed your concerns, chalking the bruises up to her being clumsy and unintentionally hurting herself. But you’ve never known her to be particularly graceless and the shape of fingerprints on her skin was unmistakable. Eventually, after much insistence and prodding on your part, she told you the truth, confiding in you that when her husband loses his temper, he often times takes it out on her. 

You were horrified to hear that. Her husband is a big brute and she’s such a frail little thing–how can he hurt her like this? You wanted to get Beomgyu involved immediately, knowing he’s the only person powerful enough to put a stop to this, but she adamantly refused, insisting that her husband didn’t mean it and that he promised her that he would stop. You didn’t believe him. That’s what they all say, only to turn around and hurt you again and again. Still she had begged you not to tell Beomgyu and you didn’t on the condition that if he does it one more time, you’d have no choice but to tell. 

And here she is again, with the marks of his anger on her body. 

“What is this?” You ask Chaeyoung, grabbing onto her arm where you can see a bluish bruise peeking out of her sleeve. 

She yanks her arm back and tries to cover it. "It's nothing, my queen."

“It’s not nothing.” You scoff, keeping your voice low so that the other ladies won’t hear. "Is your husband hurting you again?" 

"It’s my fault. I drove him to it. If I had just listened, he wouldn’t have needed to act that way." She hurries to defend him, and something about her response makes you both livid and profoundly sad. 

“No! It’s not your fault. Don’t you dare say that again.” You hiss lowly, set off by her words. “He is the one to blame. He is the one who hurt you, and he has to answer for what he did.”

“No!” She panics, shaking her head vehemently. “Please, don’t! Just let it go, my queen. I’m fine.”

“He can’t keep getting away with this. I won’t let him. If you don’t want Beomgyu to know then I’ll confront him myself.” You get to your feet, your mind made up. You don’t listen to her cries and pleads. You can’t really hear them, too focused on the ringing between your ears and the unbidden tears springing to your eyes. 

You march towards where you know he would be and demand to talk to him alone, all the while Chaeyoung keeps trying to get you to back down. You pull him out of whatever meeting he’s in, demanding to speak to him alone. He has to oblige you. You’re his queen after all, and so he follows you to an empty room where the three of you can be alone–well you three and the guards who stick to you closer than your own shadow. 

“What is the matter, my queen?” Lord Myeong, her husband, asks with faux-politeness, looking between the two of you. He never was quite able to sell the fake respect the other lords and ladies have had to treat you with ever since you got married to Beomgyu, his disdain of you managing to shine through every time. 

“The matter is that you dare to lay your savage hands on her. What kind of man lays a hand on his own wife?” You shout at him, your voice shrill with disgust.

Realization dawns on his face and he glares at Chaeyoung. “What happens between a man and his wife is only for them to know.” He tells you, a sharp edge to his voice, but he still tries to maintain his affected cordiality. 

You, on the other hand, don’t bother with those stupid pretenses. “Not when your ugly handprints are all over her skin for everyone to see. What is the matter with you?” 

“I was merely punishing her for acting out. I have the right to discipline my wife.” 

“She is not a child or a misbehaving dog. She is your wife. How could you do this to the woman you vowed in front of the gods to love and protect?” 

The man rolls his eyes and looks at you like you’re wasting his time with your silly womanly wiles, and it makes you almost burst from the anger building up inside you. “I am your queen and I demand that you never lay a single finger on her again.” You command forcefully but the man dismisses you as if you were nothing, always nothing. 

“Should I now?” He asks cockily, eyeing you up and down. “Maybe if the king disciplined you once in a while, you’d learn your place.”

His words make you see red, and before you can control yourself you launch yourself at him, punching him right across his unpleasant face, hearing a crack as your fist connects with his nose. 

"You fucking bitch!" He howls, touching his nose in shock, his teeth grinding together when his fingers come away bloody. “I’ll fucking get you for that–”

You tense up, preparing to fight as the huge man advances on you. What did you do? You can’t take him. He is too big and strong to fight off. Unless…

Your hand reaches for the dagger tucked away inside the skirt of your dress, prepared to do anything to protect yourself in your moment of madness. Thankfully, before he can reach you, the guards step in to shield you. 

“Back away.” The head knight barks at lord Myeong, his deep voice booming around the room.

Lord Myeong stops in his tracks, vexed but not about to lose his life over this. “Of course, the whore hides behind the king’s men.” He spits out before turning his furious gaze towards Chaeyoung who was shaking in the corner. “Wait till we get home.” 

He tries to grab her but you quickly order the guards to stop him. They do, shoving him away from the small woman. But when you order them to throw him out of the room, they refuse. 

“I’m your queen. You obey when I order you to do something.” You hiss at them but they don’t budge. 

“Fine. We’ll see what the king has to say about your disobedience.” You scoff and attempt to exit the room yourself but they stand in front of the door, blocking your way out. “We’ve already sent word out for the king. No one is going to leave this room before he gets here.” 

“Some queen you are.” Myeong snorts and you go to attack him again in reflex, burning in humiliation, but the guards step in and hold you back this time. 

“Let go of me.” You scream, fear and panic spiking inside you at the traumatic memories that being restrained brings back. You kick one of them in the shin, getting him to let you go before you punch the other one in the stomach, freeing yourself and moving away from them. 

“Don’t you dare touch me again.” You heave out frantically. 

“Crazy bitch.” You hear lord Myeong mutter under his breath, further igniting your rage but you don’t try to attack him again, focusing your energy on trying to get out of the room that suddenly feels all too suffocating.  

“Let me out.” You try again but they refuse, on their guard for any further attacks from you. 

“Let me fucking out!” You scream, growing more and more agitated with every passing second. 

Thankfully, Beomgyu arrives at this moment, bursting through the doors and rushing towards you at the first glimpse of your panicked state. “What is going on? Why are you screaming? Are you okay?” 

“These imbeciles don’t know how to carry orders from their queen.” You hiss in the direction of the guards, still disquieted but feeling better now that Beomgyu is right next to you. “They refused to let me leave. They even fucking restrained me.” 

“Is that true?” Beomgyu turns on the guards and the head knight stutters out, no longer sounding so frightening when faced with the king’s wrath. “S-she was attacking lord Myeong, my king. We j-just thought you’d prefer to sort things out before we let her go.” 

“Well, next time don’t think.” Beomgyu barks at them, “She’s your queen and you will obey her orders unless you want to be thrown in the cells.” 

“Y-yes, my king.” He backs off, and bows to you. “I’m sorry, my queen.” 

The rest of the guards echo his words, their apologies soothing your fire a little bit. But then Beomgyu turns to you and snuffs it out all together. “Now, what happened here?” 

"Nothing, my king." Lord Myeong straightens out as he talks to his king–so different from how he addressed you. 

Your scoff at his changing attitude catches Beomgyu’s attention and he turns back to you, seeking an answer, but you don’t say anything, too embarrassed by everything that happened to speak right now. Beomgyu gets the message, reading you easily just like he always does, and escorts you to a separate room so you can explain yourself freely, away from the others. 

“Beomgyu—” You tear up, throwing your arms around his neck, needing him to comfort you after your fuck up. He wraps one arm around your waist while the other goes to brush away the stray tears that leave your eyes. “It’s okay, my love. Tell me what happened and I’ll fix it.” 

He will. He always does. Every time you lash out at someone or do something stupid, he always has your back. 

“He hurts her, Beomgyu. He beats her up. We can all see the ugly blue and green bruises on her skin.” Your lips quiver as you recount to him what happened, telling him how she asked you not to go to him and promised you that the beatings will stop, and how you flew into a rage when they didn’t. 

“Oh, baby, my kind-hearted queen. You just wanted to help your friend, didn’t you?” He coos softly and you nod. “But you should’ve come to me, still. I would’ve helped her. Don’t I always help?” 

“You do.” You admit quietly. 

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” He asks and you feel an uncomfortable, queasy feeling budding at the pit of your stomach at that question. You don’t want to answer that. You don’t want to unfurl the seed and let it grow into the hideous monster it can be. 

So you go with half of the truth. “I wanted to fix it on my own. No one takes me seriously, Beomgyu.” 

He sighs. “And you think threatening to punch people–or in this case actually breaking their nose–is the way to get them to take you seriously?” He reprimands you and you try to draw back, feeling embarrassed, but he doesn’t let you go, using the arm he has around your wasit to hold onto you and pull you tighter against him. “My love, you need to let go of the savage ways he’s taught you.”

You press your lips into a thin line at that, your hackles raised. Taehyun isn’t savage. He taught you to defend yourself for the first time in your life, something that Beomgyu never did. He only shielded you from the abuse when he noticed it or when you told him. He never taught you how to protect yourself.  

Beomgyu doesn’t like your silence. He never does. But thankfully, for now, he lets it go, sighing. "Stay here." 

But you grab onto his arm before he can go, fretting. "Is Chaeyoung going to be okay?"

"I'll take care of it." He promises you, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss against your forehead before he leaves you to deal with the mess you created. 

As you’re left alone to simmer in the aftermath of your most recent fuck up, you realize just how much you’ve strayed from Taehyun’s teachings. You almost were something, almost were your own person, but now you’re even worse than before. Weren’t you the woman who once stood up to the fearsome lord Taehyun and got him to listen to you? Now you’re hiding away as you let Beomgyu take care of problems you created while trying to reclaim that phantom power. You're back to being the stupid helpless little girl who needs Beomgyu to do everything for her. This is just what he wanted, isn’t it? Well, he succeeded. 

You’re yanked out of your ruminations when you hear the door open. You look up to ask Beomgyu how it went, only to find Chaeyoung standing there. 

“Oh, Chae–” You rush towards her but she puts her hand up to stop you and you halt. “What–”

“Why did you do that? I told you to let it go!” She fumes and you draw back in shock. “I was just trying to help–”

“No, you were trying to make yourself feel better about your own issues with the king.” 

You freeze at her words. “What are you talking about?” 

She scoffs. “It’s obvious. I don’t know what exactly is going on with you and the king, but god knows everyone has heard the rumors, and whatever unresolved shit you have going on is making you feel helpless and angry and instead of confronting him about it, you lashed out at my own husband to make yourself feel better about your own complacency.”

You shake your head forcefully. “That’s not true. It’s not.” The hot tears sting at your eyes once again, but Chaeyoung doesn’t care for it. No one does except Beomgyu. 

“Yes, it is and don’t you deny it. Because if you actually cared about what’s good for me you wouldn’t have put me in danger by confronting Myeong.”

“P-put you in danger?” What is she talking about?

“Yes. Do you think what you did will make him hurt me any less? It will only make him more angry!” 

“You’re staying with him?” You ask incredulously and her answering laugh is haughty and bitter. "You're staying with Beomgyu?" 

You clamp up.  "What other option do I have? You think I can just separate from my husband and not be completely ostracized from all my friends and family? I don’t have a king who would kill his own wife and buy my annulment so he can marry me."

"That is cruel, Chae." You croak. How could she say this to you? She might not know the full story of what happened between you and Beomgyu, but just like she said, everyone has heard the rumors, and her being one of the ladies in waiting, she is sure to know more than anyone else about what you’ve been through at his hands. 

She takes in a deep breath to try to calm herself down, and you can see how underneath her anger, there is tremendous fear. “I’m sorry but you need to hear it. I didn't ask you to intervene. Worry about your own problems from now on."

She’s right–the seed unfurls, the monster grows. The only reason you got so enraged and out of control is because what she said reminded you of what Beomgyu has always told you–that you’re the reason for your own suffering, that if you had just been good, that if you didn’t try to escape, that if you let him do what he wants to you, he wouldn’t have hurt you like he did.   When she blamed herself for what happened, it felt like she was blaming you too. 

"I'm sorry. You're right. It was about me. I guess I just saw my situation in yours and couldn't control myself. It was selfish of me. I just feel so helpless and I wanted to do something for once." 

"You are doing something.” She insists, stepping closer to you for the first time since she came into the room. “You’re using him to make things better. It's the best anyone can do in your position. You know the peasants are talking shit about you and yet you’re still helping them and he's letting you. You may not be carrying out those good deeds directly but you're accomplishing more than you ever could have with Lord Taehyun. The king will do anything to please you. You just have to ask." 

You contemplate her words in silence. You suppose she’s right about that too. You may not be doing anything directly. People may look down on you and belittle you. But through Beomgyu, you can accomplish so much and he would be more than happy to let you. Maybe you should just get out of your state of self-pity and acknowledge that you’re more lucky–despite it all–than most of the other ladies here. 

"But you need to be careful because you’re costing him too many allies by your reckless actions. If you keep this up, you'll be damning him." She continues, and that more than anything, gets your attention.

You hadn’t thought about it that way before, too caught up in your own feelings to know any better. Beomgyu never said a word about it to you either. You suppose he’s just so intent on proving to you that he has your back and will not let the others treat you in a way you don’t like anymore, that he’s letting you ruin his court relations. 

"I don't want you to remove my husband from the palace. That would just make things worse for me. So could you please smooth things over with the king?" She asks you, and you give her a small nod. “Thank you.”

You still feel a hint of satisfaction when Beomgyu drags Lord Myeong into the room, the bigger man looking denigrated and subjugated as he apologizes to you and his wife. You merely give him a nod while Chaeyoung graciously announces that she forgives him.

"Get your things ready. You leave at first light." Beomgyu announces when he’s done, and Chaeyouung shoots you a panicked look. 

“Actually, I would like him to stay” You interrupt, shocking both men. You bow your head and continue, "If my king will permit, of course."

“But the way he treated you–” Beomgyu balks, unable to stomach the offense to his wife.

“I provoked him.” You bite down on your tongue as you parrot the incriminatory words. “Neither of us behaved particularly civilly.” 

“But, baby–” Beomgyu moves close to you, whispering quietly. You hold his right hand between your two smaller ones, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. Give him one more chance. For me.” 

He still looks uncomfortable with letting it pass, but you turn to face Lord Myeong, scowling at him in warning. "If he will give you his word not to hurt Chae again." 

Beomgyu turns to him and the man nods tightly. "I give you my word, my king." He proclaims, then bows to you. “My queen.”

It’s hard to keep in your scoff, and you can’t look at the coward much longer. Luckily, you don’t have to as Beomgyu waves his hand, dismissing them both, along with the guards, leaving only you and him in the room.  

“I don’t like this, darling. He almost laid his hands on you.” Beomgyu recounts angrily, taking you in his arms. “He almost hurt you.” 

“I hurt him first. I started it.” You repeat uneasily, and it’s almost funny how Beomgyu finds issue with the sentiment when it doesn’t relate to him. 

“You can do whatever you want. You’re his queen.” Beomgyu argues, “If you want to, I can bring him back here and you can use that dagger of yours to brighten up his face a little bit.” 

His suggestion, entirely too serious, sends a shiver down your spine. 

The king will do anything to please you. But you need to be careful because you’re costing him too many allies.

You shake your head. “No. I need to start acting like a lady again.” You look away, your lower lip wobbling and cheeks flaming, but Beomgyu turns your head to face him once again. “You’ll always be a lady. No one can ever change that.” He presses a kiss against each of your tear-stained cheeks, before continuing, "But I must admit that there are better ways to get people to listen to you than punching them in the face. No matter how endlessly funny I find it when you do that."

You can’t help but smile a little at his joke, allowing yourself to really look at him, and you see nothing but adoration shining back at you. Beomgyu is in love with you. He'd do anything for you. So why are you standing here worrying about anyone else? 

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, kissing you slowly, his soft lips molding against your own as your breaths mingle and your tongues meet. You can never get tired of kissing Beomgyu, each kiss containing a multitude of emotions that never wane–love, lust, need, ecstasy, relief… He kisses you like it’s the first and last time he ever will. Even this slow kiss is so heavy with feeling, it takes your breath away. 

“Am I?” You ask once you break the kiss, mouthing along his jawline. 

“Yeah. So perfect.” His breath hitches as you move down his neck. “Oh, love, if you keep going like that I’m going to–Oh…” 

You slip your hand under his pants, palming him as you suck on his sensitive neck. “Going to what, puppy?”

“Going to lose control.” He finishes, and you chuckle cockily. “As if you ever had any control when it came to me.” 

You take your hand out of his pants, hushing his protesting whine, and walk him backwards until you reach a chair and push him on it, getting down on your knees between his legs. 

“Darling, no, don’t sit on the floor. Want you comfortable–” 

“Hush, Beomgyu. Be a good pup and let me play with you however I want.” You chastise, shooting down his overly-protective tendencies as you take him out of his pants and jerk him into hardness. 

“Yes, baby.” He groans, throwing his head back against the chair as he hungrily watches you pumping his cock from under his heavy lashes. He’s too damn easy. So what if everyone thinks you’re his whore? You have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything you tell him to. He adores you. He’d spend his days and nights worshiping at your feet if you let him. "Love it when you use me." 

"Yeah?" You shiver, soaking up his need and adulation that hit you like the buzz of a strong liquor. You really can’t live without him. You live off his love. He wants to give you everything–himself, a family, even the whole kingdom. No one else matters to him and no one else should matter to you.  

You push yourself up to loom over him and cup his chin with your hand. "Open your mouth."

He does, sticking his tongue out, ready for you to spit in his mouth. His eyes flutter when you do and you feel his cock jerk in your other hand. 

"Filthy." You sneer, but you can’t hide the thrill that goes through you at that, neither do you even try. He deserves to see your own need. "And that bastard dares to say you can discipline me." 

Beomgyu quickly pulls his tongue inside his mouth and grinds his teeth together as his hazy eyes clear up a little bit. "He said that? I'll kill him." 

"No. He doesn't matter." You brush it off, pushing him back down. None of them matter. Only Beomgyu. "As long as you're mine."

"Always."

You push his shirt up his body, bunching it up under his chin as your free hand feels his tummy up to his pert nipples–his soft tummy, so different from the hard planes of Taehyun’s abdomen now that Beomgyu allowed it to go back to its natural state. You don’t know how he got it into his head that you wanted him to resemble Taehyun when all you’ve ever wanted was everything he was.  

Beomgyu’s back arches when you flick one of his nipples lightly, his cock getting pushed further into your fist as he mewls. 

“So sensitive.” You purr, nudging his poor nipple again and again. “So desperate. You fuck me every day and night and yet you’re still so needy. Is it never enough for you?”

“Never.” He vows breathlessly. “How can I ever get my fill when you’re the most wonderful creature the gods have ever created?”

The words come to him so easily, pouring forth like a sweet balm to soothe any semblance of worry in you before it has the chance to flare up. This is what you needed. This is what love is. Yes, it hurts sometimes, but god when it’s good, nothing and no one else compares. 

"More…” Beomgyu pleads, hips nudging upwards ever so lightly. “Just a little bit more. Please." 

“Of course, whatever my baby wants.” You coo sweetly, too sweetly, increasing your pace on his cock a little bit. Just a little bit though, messing with him until he groans out in frustration. “Baby, please!”  

"What? I thought you said just a little bit." You cock your head to the side in mock confusion but the playful giggle you can’t hold back at his pout gives you away.

“You’re always so mean.” 

“Oh, puppy.” You finally take pity on him, leaning upwards to press a kiss to his lips as you quicken your pace, much faster this time, and his mouth falls open as moans stream out of it.  

"You have such a pretty cock, puppy, so big and thick. It feels so good when you fuck me." You tease him, knowing it will just drive him more insane. And it does just that, the imagery getting to his dumb head. "Yeah? Want to fuck you so bad."

"Of course you do.” You pout sympathetically, “You're ready to fuck if I even just glance your way, aren't you?"

"Yeah. All ready for you, always." He nods, hips thrusting up to fuck your fist.

“Did I say you could do that?” You hiss and he quickly stills,  whimpering at your harsh tone like a scolded dog. 

You pause for a moment to take your lover in, sprawled on the chair with his dick out and his shirt pushed up to his neck, his hands fisted into the cushion below him so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch you. He looks delectable and he’s all yours to enjoy. "You can't control yourself, can you? Maybe I need to be put on a leash or you'll be humping my leg every chance you get."

He moans at the lewd idea and surges forward to kiss you. You allow him to do it, if only so you can rile him up more, before you grab him by the neck and push him back. "You like that, don’t you, puppy? Should I make you a gold collar and put my name on it too? Show your court who rules their king?"

"Yes. You own me. You own everything." He babbles heatedly, "Whatever my queen wants, she gets. I'm just your obedient dog."

"Fuck, yes you are.” You bite down on your lip harshly, your thighs rubbing together in need at his pathetic display. “My vicious, feral dog. Come on, hump my hand." 

"Thank you." He mewls, thrusting his hips up to fuck your hand once more. He is so lost in that measly amount of pleasure, taking anything he can from you, that an even more wicked idea pops into your mind. 

“You really want to cum, huh?” You drawl cryptically, making Beomgyu tilt his head, giving you a confused look even as he continues to fuck your fist. But you don’t make him wonder for long. "Let's see if you can cum on command. I'm going to count down from ten and I want you to cum on one, pup."

"Baby–" He tries to protest but you’re already going through with it. 

"Ten." You start, making his eyes wide, and suddenly his thrusts turn frantic. 

“Good boy.” You purr, twisting your fist around his cock as a little treat for his obedience. “Nine.” 

“You’re going to kill me.” He croaks and you huff out a little laugh. If only you could. Your grip gets a little tighter around him, unintentionally helping him out. “Eight.” 

As you keep counting down, he gets more and more breathless. 

"Please, please." He cries out in desperation. “It’s not enough.” 

“Are you saying I’m not enough?” You purposefully twist his words, delighting in sick pleasure as he gasps and shakes his head. “No, no, you’re more than enough!”

“Then stop complaining and be good. Five.” 

His heartbroken wail goes straight to your pussy and you wonder if you’re the one who is going to cum on one. He just looks so delicious, sprawled there whimpering and crying as he strives to obey your almost impossible command. 

“Four.” 

“Baby… my queen…”

“Three.”

“Fuck–nghhh–”

“Two.” 

“I can’t. I can’t!” He freaks out, his eyes blown wide as he stares between you and his pistoning cock. 

"One." You take your hand away and he wails. You’re disappointed for a second–you really thought he could do this–but then you see his body go rigid before it convulses, cum spurting out of his red cock as he sobs. 

You gasp out in delight and reach out to run your hands over his feverish skin, calming him down. "Good boy." You praise, leaning up to kiss his tear-shocked face. “I’m so proud of you baby. You did it.” 

Beomgyu chases your lips, catching your lips with his own as he whines into your mouth. “So mean.” 

“Why? You got to cum.” You ask him in confusion, "Did that not feel good?"

He shakes his head and sniffles. "No. It was horrible."

"Oh, you poor pup." You take his cock in your hand and stroke it languidly, unsure if he can take it. He seems to like it though and so you ask, "Do you want more?"

"Yes.” He nods empathetically, “Yes please."

"Well, since you were such a good boy." You quicken your pace, his cum making a mess of him as you use it to stroke him. 

"Such a messy pup." You tsk, leaning forward to lick it. You don’t do a good job, a thick trail of saliva and cum linking your tongue and the head of his cock. But you weren’t trying to clean him up. You just wanted to tease him more, knowing how messy he likes it. 

"Ah please! Suck my cock."

You grin, once again getting just what you wanted. “I have a better idea.” You tell him, spitting on his cock and spreading it along his length while your other hand pushes the top of your dress down, exposing your breasts to him. 

“What?” He stutters, watching wide-eyed as you place his cock between your breasts and push them snuggly around it. “Come on, puppy. I know you’ve been dreaming of this.” 

"I love you." He effuses, making you laugh as his hips thrust up wildly under you to push his cock between your breasts. 

This should be humiliating. You’re on the floor, knees sore and tits out as you let him fuck them just so he can add even more to the cum and spit already covering them. But how can you feel anything but powerful when this is the king himself you have being so pathetic for you? When the one thing shining brighter than lust in his eyes is his love for you? 

“Are you okay, puppy?” You ask him, noting how he’s struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back and the way he’s panting like a dog, sweat glistening on his skin from the struggle. "Going dumb from fucking my tits?" 

"So pretty…" He whines, his thrusts growing sloppier and more erratic. "Going to cum… please let me cum."

“Go ahead, baby. You’ve been good.” Your praise, more than anything, pushes him over the edge, and he cums all over your breasts, his seed decorating your chest in beads more beautiful than any pearls. 

“That’s it. Let it all out, darling.” You coax the last bit of his cum out of his cock, rubbing the head of it against your nipples in a way that has you shaking in need. God, you need him inside you. You feel so empty. 

Sensing your need, or perhaps seeing it on your face, Beomgyu grabs your arms and pulls you to your feet, planting you onto his lap as he buries his face in your chest, licking his cum right off your tits and pebbled nipples. 

You can’t take it sitting still so you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, a fire lighting up inside you as he tickles your nipples with his tongue and sucks on them. You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take long for that fire to become an inferno, your legs clamping around his thigh as you cum, pulling his head back harshly by his long hair to give him an open-mouthed kiss. 

"Please… fuck.” He whimpers, moving your ass up so you’re sitting on his cock that is now hard once again. “Baby, please take my cock, use me." 

But you shake your head, sitting up and putting him back in his pants while he whines and protests. You press a firm kiss to his lips, shutting him up. "You have things to do. We can’t stay here all day. Go do your duties like a good king and maybe I'll let you cum inside me tonight." 

“Yes, baby.” He shivers, the fucked out look still apparent on his face as he gets up, and the thought that everyone is going to see him like this and know you’re the one who did this to him has you swelling with pride. 

___________________________________

You don’t know how you didn’t see this coming. You knew both men were out to kill each other. You knew Beomgyu offered to pardon whoever defected from Taehyun’s men and compensate them handsomely for it. You knew more and more people were turning their backs on Taehyun. You knew he was losing, and yet this somehow still comes as a shock to you. 

Kai has been captured, betrayed by Taehyun’s own men and brought to the palace to be used however Beomgyu sees fit. As it so happens, what Beomgyu sees fit is using Kai's life to bargain for Taehyun’s own life. He’s asking Taehyun to give himself up in order to save his little brother. 

Suddenly, everything becomes real.

“Sweetling, calm down.” Wonyoung’s musical voice trills out, halting your anxious pacing. 

“Calm down? How can you be so calm?” You shrill, “Aren’t you scared for him?”

“Of course, I am but I have to stand behind my brother.” Her composure ticks you off. 

“He’s going to kill Kai!” You exclaim. How can Wonyoung act so coolly about this? Doesn't she have feelings for Kai?

She sighs wearily. Despite her being a few years younger than you are, in moments like these, she feels much more mature and aged in comparison to you, like a wizened old spinster who has seen everything there is to see and knows better than you silly little you. “Not if Taehyun gives himself up.”

No. He can't do that. You shake your head in denial. “He can’t. He won’t. If he gives himself up, then the war is lost. He’s the only thing keeping it going right now. His men will put their swords down if he’s captured.” 

“Whether he gives himself up now or keeps fighting, the war is already lost. It’s better to surrender now before he’s betrayed by his own men too.” 

You grimace at her prediction. God no, that can’t happen. It would simply kill him. He has worked so hard for his city, sacrificed his childhood in order to become a strong, competent leader to his people. He suffered so much hate and malicious rumors and yet he never bowed under the pressure. So for him to go out this way, given up by his own men… it would kill his already broken spirit. 

“He’s going to take the fall for everyone. He has no choice but to give himself up so Kai can live and his city can be spared from slaughter.” She tells you, and in your delirious state you imagine you can hear a hint of sorrow in her gentle voice. You shake your head once again, childishly refusing to acknowledge the gruesome truth. She speaks again, even more gently, "Come on, sweetling, did you really think this was going to end any other way?" 

“I don’t know." You croak, Beomgyu's words clanging around inside your skull. 

I'll let you see his severed head when I bring it home to you.

She doesn’t say anything else, knowing there was no use. She just holds you and lets you cry. You already know she’s telling the truth. You just refuse to believe it. You refuse to believe it’s ending this way–just like Beomgyu wanted. Always like Beomgyu wanted. 

_________________________________

Once again it’s Wonyoung who accompanies you to visit Beomgyu’s newest prisoner. She could get in a lot of trouble for this and yet she does it anyway. You don’t know why. She doesn’t even go with you into the room Kai is being held in, weakly admitting that she can’t see him in that state. But she asks you to make sure he’s comfortable. She had requested from Beomgyu that he be held some place befitting of his status, but since she has never gathered the courage to visit him herself, she couldn’t be sure if Beomgyu had kept that promise or not. 

The guards standing outside Kai’s makeshift cell hesitate to let you in, telling you that you need permission from the king first, but Wonyoung wouldn’t have any of that. 

“This is your queen you’re speaking to. If the king finds out that you’ve refused an order from her, you’d be thrown into one of the cells, and it won’t be as nice as this one, I can promise you that.” She threatens the guard, who exchanges a look with the men flanking you. Your head knight gives him a small nod. “Listen to your queen.” 

The man takes in a weary breath and shakily raises his hand to unlock the door, the keys clanging together from the way his hand trembles. When he pushes open the heavy door, Wonyoung turns away, not bearing to even glance at her captured lover. 

“Stay here.” You quickly order your guards before you step inside. They hesitate, but before they can think it through, you shut the door in their face. Sure, they can open it again, but you’re certain Wonyoung will prevent them from doing so. 

Once you’re inside though–your back facing Kai after you’ve shut the door–you hesitate, suddenly realizing that you don’t even know why you’re here. You haven’t prepared anything to say. You’re not sure you even have anything to say. 

“Took you long enough.” Kai's voice hits your back. It’s so different from how you remember it–so tired and weak. You quickly turn around, seeing him for the first time in so long, and your heart hammers at how different he looks. 

Gone are the soft, boyish features–his round cheeks replaced by sharp bones, his eyes sinking in their sockets, his usually smiling lips pressed into a sardonic smirk. He looks exhausted. While Beomgyu has gotten softer and more radiant since you came back, Kai’s life force seems to have been stripped away from his body. 

This is what war does to those caught on the wrong side of it. This is how you know Beomgyu couldn’t have lost. The boy in front of you looks ten years older. He looks like he has seen the worst that a human can see, while Beomgyu has been thriving more and more each day. There was never any hope for Taehyun. 

Oh god, if this is what Kai looks like, then what about Taehyun? 

“Is… h-how is he?” You ask tentatively, and Kai lets out a little laugh. “Why don’t you ask him yourself. You’ll be seeing him soon enough.” 

You wince and wring your hands together anxiously. “How can I help him? There has to be a way to save him.” 

Kai scowls, getting up and walking towards you. Your heart leaps in your chest for a moment, thinking he’s going to attack you before his shackles stop him from reaching you. “There is no way. He’s been doomed since the second he laid eyes on you. You should’ve left him alone. If you had just done that, he would’ve been safe.” 

“I’m sorry.” You weep, “I didn’t know it would end this way. If there was something I could do–”

“Go back to him. Die by his side, do something right in your life.” Kai compels you and you scoff at his change in tune. “Didn’t you tell me to stay away from him?” 

“I thought that would stop your lunatic but it didn’t. It just broke Taehyun’s heart. He doesn’t love easily and I ripped the one person he loved from him.” He confesses sadly, but you shake your head in denial. “Taehyun doesn’t love me. He’s only doing this because he has a compulsive need to do the right thing even if it ends in disaster.” 

“That may be true but it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you. I saw it with my own eyes.” 

“Then you saw wrong.” You shake your head again. Taehyun doesn’t love you. You don’t know what Kai thinks he saw but it wasn’t love. Beomgyu looks at you with love. You’ve never seen that look in Taehyun’s eyes. "And even if that was true, Beomgyu would never let me go. I can’t escape him.” 

“You can kill your monster.” He cuts you off, “You can rid the world of his evil.” 

Just the thought of it makes your heart clench painfully. You stare at him, wide-eyed. “I–I can’t do that… I’m carrying his baby.” 

Kai scoffs. “You’re really something else, aren’t you?” 

Humiliation burns deep inside you at his disgusted expression. "You told me to leave!" You scream. What does he want from you? 

"But I didn't tell you to fuck him.” He denounces, and in that moment you can’t even recognize the sweet boy you met a year ago anymore. “I thought you didn't want to be known as his whore."

"I am not his whore.” You insist, distraught. You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t even try to leave Beomgyu’s side anymore. Only he is safe. “I am his wife and I am carrying his rightful heir."

"And was this rightful heir conceived before or after the illegitimate marriage."

You hold in your tears. "Fine. I am rotten, just like him. I admit it. Are you happy now?"

"You should’ve realized it sooner. Your pity party is killing my brother." He spits out in disgust. “You never loved my brother. It was always Beomgyu you wanted. You just used my brother to get what you want. Well, congratulations on the happily ever after you’ll have once Taehyun is dead.” 

________________________________

Your heart almost stops when you step out of the room and come face to face with Beomgyu. He looks enraged, but you don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now. And when you collapse into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, he too puts whatever he had to say to rest for now, carrying you in his arms and muttering to Wonyoung that he’ll deal with her later as he takes you away. 

It’s funny how you seek comfort in him from the very thing he caused and how you actually feel soothed by him. This is why your protests never get through to him. How can they when he always manages to get you back into his arms? 

You don’t see where he is taking you as you cling onto his body and hide your face in his neck. You only realize that he’s taken you back to your chambers when your back hits the mattress and the comforting and familiar smell of the room fills your nose and allows you to calm down enough to speak.

“I don’t want you to kill Taehyun.” You claw at his back desperately, your eyes searching his own for any sign of mercy. “Please.” 

He looks at you with anger in his eyes, for daring to beg for Taehyun’s life, but you’re surprised to also see pity there, and that pity tells you that there is no point to your begging. “You know I have to do it. I have to set us free. I have to protect our baby.” 

But you still plead your useless case–for if you really wanted to save Taehyun. You know what you must do. “So exile him. Banish him from the kingdom. Just don’t kill him.”   

He shakes his head, much more patient than you ever expected from him. Why was he being so gentle with you when usually any allusion to Taehyun would have him fuming with rage. Is it because he knows he has already won? 

“He will always be a threat to our family for as long as he lives. You know that.” He reminds you, “It’s time to end it. Aren’t you tired of this?” 

You are, so very tired. So tired you can’t reciprocate the kiss Beomgyu initiates, prompting him to pull back to look you in the eyes. And that’s when you realize why he’s being so sweet. He’s afraid he’s going to lose you again. He’s afraid that Taehyun’s death will make you withdraw into yourself again. He’s been keeping you as far away from the war as he possibly could so you wouldn’t fully fathom the gravity of it all, but now that it’s ending, there is no escape from the heavy price. 

When it comes down to it, is it going to be him or Taehyun you’re going to protect? 

“I love you.” He tells you urgently and waits for you to say it back, his eyes swimming with fear and uncertainty, his soul just about to drown in them. His soul, your other half, how could you possibly let it sink? 

“I love you too.” You finally say it, and his sigh of relief is like a drowned man’s first gasp for breath after being revived, quickly followed by more and more. 

“I love you. I love you.” He sobs, smothering you with kisses that you swallow down eagerly. 

He makes love to you, needy and scared, clinging onto you tight enough to leave room for nothing but his whispered confessions and pleas for yours. 

"Say you love me." He begs urgently, craving it more than his building release. 

"I love you." You blabber, your own ears not able to distinguish your words from the pathetic sobs as his hips smack against yours feverishly, but he hears them. 

"Say it again."

"I love you." 

"Again. Please." 

"I love you."

"Only me." 

"Only you." 

Beomgyu doesn’t let you breathe in anything that isn’t him. He surrounds you everywhere–his heat, his scent, his heartbeat… it all blends together and flows into you, uniting your being with his so tightly you don’t know where you end and he begins. 

_____________________________________

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” You whisper to the man behind you in an effort to not wake up the sleeping baby laying in his crib in front of you–your baby, your little prince. 

“Is he?” 

That voice. 

You immediately whip around, fear gripping your heart as you come face to face with the man you once called your husband. 

“Taehyun!” You stammer, reaching your arms out to try to protect your baby from him but when you hazard a glance back, he’s not there. 

“Where is he? You ask, panicked. 

“I could’ve given you a child. That baby should’ve been mine.” 

Tears spring to your eyes at his words. “Please, give him back.” 

But he ignores your plea, advancing on you. You try to move away but your legs don’t obey you. They keep you rooted to the spot as he comes closer and cradles your face in his hand. “Why did you leave me?” 

"I wanted to protect you." You attempt to answer, but your uncertainty is evident even to him. 

"Did you?" You look away guiltily but he turns your head back towards him. "Did you also give him a child to protect me? Are you going to let him kill me to protect me?"

"I tried to stop him but I failed. You saw what happened. I always mess up. I don't know what to do, Taehyun." You cry, but Taehyun isn’t Beomgyu, and he isn’t going to coddle you no matter how much you cry and whimper. "That's not an excuse."  

“I know, I–” He kisses you, shutting up your worthless justifications. Once again you can’t move. You have to stand there and let him devour your lips, his kisses harsh and angry. 

So you focus on gathering all the strength in your body, an effort so immense just to take a step back and beg, "Stop." 

He hears you and he pulls away, but only enough to talk, his lips brushing against yours as he does. "Why?”

“I’m married to Beomgyu.”

That makes him laugh darkly. “That didn’t stop you before. You cheated on me. What does it matter if you cheat on him too? That's what you do." 

You try to shake your head but he has your hair all fisted in his hand. “Don’t deny it. You want to be fucked, I know. Maybe if I had fucked you enough before, you wouldn’t have ran after his dick.” 

He rips your dress from your body, tearing it away the same way he did when you wore that dress Wonyoung got you, and with the same disdain. “I hate these fucking dresses.” He growls, “But you love them, don’t you? It’s another reason why you crawled back to him. I tried to give them to you, lost my fucking eye over it, but you couldn’t even give me some more time.” 

“That’s not why I left.” You deny, but that just makes him angrier. 

“Don’t lie to me. You know what I do to liars.” He hisses, grabbing your chin and digging his fingers into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open for him to kiss. He coaxes your tongue out, sucking on it before grazing it with his sharp teeth, making you shiver with both fear and lust. 

Are you lying? If you aren’t then why are you letting Beomgyu kill Taehyun? Why haven’t you killed him when you had the chance? 

Because you love him. Because you can’t live without him. Because he’s the father of your child. Because even though he is wicked, you could do so much good together, help so many people, live the rest of your life trying to atone for the horrible sins you've committed. 

But will you ever be forgiven?

As if he could hear your thoughts, Taehyun asks, “Do you believe him when he tells you that everything will be okay when I'm gone, angel? Do you think you'll forget me when I die? You think he’ll ever forget that I had you when he can taste me on your lips? Even if he kills me, he’ll always know that you let me shove my cock inside your pretty mouth and your tight cunt.” 

“Taehyun!” You gasp. This was so unlike him–the possessiveness, the jealousy, the emotion.  

“What? You like it when I talk to you like this? Treat you like the whore you are?” He grabs the underside of your thighs and lifts you up, walking you towards the bed before throwing you on it and prowling up to cover you with his body. He looms over you. "And you, you think it won’t eat you up alive everyday knowing what you did to me?"

"Then kill me." You beg him and he laughs. Clearly you aren’t strong enough to hurt Beomgyu or yourself, but he is. He can end you. He can end this tortured existence. "No, you don't deserve the mercy of death. You deserve to live by that monster for the rest of your miserable life."

“Taehyun–ah!” You squeak as he rips your legs open.

“Look how wet you are. You really like this, don’t you?” 

You bite your lip, trying to gather up your own emotions like precious gold, scared to show them to him lest he steal them away. 

He scoffs at your silence. “Come on, angel, speak up. I can’t know what you’re feeling if you don’t talk. So speak up.” He mocks, his fingers gliding up and down your spread pussy, his eyes falling to your hole as it flutters around nothing. 

His fingers tease around your entrance as his gaze flicks back up to you, harsh and angry, before he slams his fingers inside you, making your mouth fall open in a sharp cry. “Speak up, bitch.” 

“I’m sorry.” You weep, not knowing what else to say as his fingers ram into you, much too fast and hard. “I’m sorry, Taehyun.”

“Are you? Are you really?” He tilts his head to the side jeeringly, but you nod earnestly. “I am. I am.”

“If all that’s going to come out of that pretty mouth is lies then maybe you shouldn’t talk.” 

“W-what–hmph!” He stuffs his fingers that were just in your pussy into your mouth, choking you on your own taste. 

"You never loved me. You used me.” He spits out bitterly, and you feel his cock prodding at your entrance before it breaches your hole in one stroke. “You killed me."

Suddenly, Taehyun looks different, his clean, white skin covered in nasty cuts and bruises, a hideous gash extending across his neck, dripping warm blood onto your naked body. 

Overcome with the urge to throw up at the sickening sight, you close your eyes tightly, hoping to dispel the gruesome image, but he screams at you to look at him, not letting you escape what you did. 

“Look at me. Look at me! Look what you did.” 

You cry as you shake your head, hot tears flowing down your cheeks. Or maybe it was blood. 

"Don't cry." He screams at you as he continues to fuck you, uncaring about the pain he’s causing you or the blood that drains from his body. "You fucking killed me, you bitch."

You shake your head harder, unable to speak with the fingers buried deep in your mouth, the tips of them hitting the back of your throat and making you choke on something that didn’t taste like you anymore. No, it tasted metallic and nauseating. 

"Don’t cry." A voice shouts in your ear, much more vivid and clear this time. It feels more real than everything else and the shock of it allows you to finally, finally, spit the fingers out, sputtering out repeated No’s as your whole body spasms with cold dread.  

“Please, stop crying.” It tells you again, surprisingly gentle and worried. “Calm down, baby. I’m here. Please, princess!” 

Princess? 

Suddenly, you’re pulled out of this void of agony and despair you’ve been plunged into. Blinking away your tears, the ghastly visage of your past lover slowly loses its crimson discoloration as it morphs into the terrified face of your husband, tears of his own streaking down his flushed cheeks as he gazes at you in horror. 

“Beomgyu?” You croak, voice scratchy and strained. “W-what’s happening?” 

“You were having a nightmare, baby.” He explains, sniffling. 

“Why are you crying?” You ask, cupping his cheek and weakly wiping his sparkling tears away. 

“You were making all those noises, like you were being choked, and I–I was so worried.” He whimpers, leaning into your touch. “It’s so stupid. You’re the one who was having the nightmare, but I was so scared because I couldn’t get you to wake up. I couldn’t reach you in there.” He breaks out into a loud sob at the last part, lips trembling as he relives the terror. 

“I was scared too.” You whisper, pulling him tightly against you as if the physical proximity would allow him to protect your soul from further attack. 

Is this what your life is going to be like from now on? Plagued by nightmares of what you and your lover did? Getting trapped in a ghoulish dreamland where Beomgyu can’t reach you to comfort you? Is this your divine punishment?

______________________________

Taehyun is here. He is here to give himself up to appease Beomgyu’s wrath and save everyone else. He’s here to die so you can get your happily ever after. 

And here Beomgyu is, getting dressed in his ceremonial armor to personally carry out the execution of the man whose only sin was briefly making you his. 

You get dressed too, your attire blood-red just like Beomgyu’s so you wouldn’t be able to see any of the blood that might splatter in the aftermath of today’s abomination. 

"Don't make it hurt.” You plead your lover, and Beomgyu snaps his head to look at you with equal parts fury and imploration–half a mad king and half a child begging for something he wants but knows he shouldn’t have. "Let me take my vengeance on him."

"You're decimated his army, brought him to the ground, and now you’re going to take his life. What more do you need?” You press your hands against the gold of his breastplate, seeking the heartbeat you know is under there. “Just give him a quick death. Get it over with. Please, for me."

He looks into the distance, the request not sitting well with him, but he didn’t shoot you down immediately which tells you that he’s at least considering it. 

“Fine.” He says at long last and your knees buckle in relief under you as if you had managed to save Taehyun. “You don’t have to come, you know?” 

“I thought you said you would kill him in front of my eyes.” You remind him of his own words and he gives you a weary look. “I was mad when I said that. I never want to intentionally hurt you.”

You laugh wistfully at his claim. What he means is that he never wants to hurt you in a way that wouldn't benefit him, and he knows that seeing him personally kill Taehyun might be too much even for you.

This has always been Beomgyu’s method–keep you away from the battlefield so you’d forget all about his monstrous actions. But you owe this to Taehyun. If you’re the reason he’s losing his life then the least you could do is look him in the eye during his final moments and face all the hate he has for you. 

“I have to come.” 

“My queen–” 

“I chose you. You owe me this.” You snap at him and he recoils, shoulders slumping. He’s so anxious about ending this that he doesn’t have the energy to protest much “Yes, darling.” 

________________________

If you thought Kai looked bad, then Taehyun looks like he already has one foot beyond the veil. You’ve never seen him look so small, stripped of his leather and armor, his muscles–though never remarkably big–wasting away from malnourishment and the stress of war, what appears of his skin bruised and discolored, and his hair cut in a blunt style so as not to obstruct the vision in his one good eye. 

Dear god, his eyes. 

He's not even wearing the black enamel anymore, a hollow socket left in its place surrounded by darkened skin, giving you a glimpse of what he will look like once the crows have picked out the other eye. After all, dead men have no use for sight. 

But for now, he sees, looking at you with that singular, stormy eye of his, and you don’t know how you missed it before–perhaps it got diluted in the middle back when both were intact, and then was overshadowed by the black orb he put in-but you see so much emotion there now, intensified enough by the singular outlet for you to finally perceive. 

Anger, pride, regret, disappointment, fear… and so much more that you can't begin to untangle, so much that will be silenced forever when his vision goes dark. 

His gaunt face had been so startling to behold that you almost missed the necklace wrapped around his neck… a pearl necklace, your necklace!

W-What? Why? Why is he wearing that? What is he trying to do? 

You ponder it for a second, eyes jumping around the room in a confused frenzy, before they land on Beomgyu’s sword, and you’re immediately hit with a sickening realization–he’s showing the world who is behind his death. You are. You did this to him. 

Suddenly, you see him as you saw him in your dream, wounded and bloody. You see Beomgyu standing over his corpse, triumphant. And it takes everything in you not to fall to your knees. 

He doesn't deserve this. It had been so exhausting for you to fight your short battle before you gave in and ran back to your captor, but Taehyun has been fighting all his life. He never gave up, never flinched back no matter the horror he was facing. He even fought for you when you couldn't be bothered to fight for yourself. And yet here you are, preparing to watch him die for the sin of choosing to help you when he should have turned away like all the others. 

No act of kindness goes unpunished. 

You shake your head, a few bitter tears getting dislodged in the process and burning down your cheeks.

It has to be done. You think as Beomgyu recounts to the crowd of noble men and women gathered the crimes he has fabricated for Taehyun, his only real crime standing there for all to gawk at.

It has to be done. You think as you watch the proud man being forced to his knees, his head lowered down so his pearled neck could receive the royal sword’s fatal kiss. Still, he attempts to look at you, raising his face up to pin you under his gaze the same way the guards are pinning him to the floor. 

It has to be done. You think as Beomgyu, enraged that Taehyun even dares to look at you, grabs him by the back of the head and shoves his face back down. But once again, Taehyun looks up at you. 

It has to be done. You think as Beomgyu angrily unsheathes his sword and doesn't even ask Taehyun for his last words. 

It has to be done. 

Gods help you for what you're about to do. 

It's easy for you to slip past the guards flanking your side. You’ve proven yourself loyal to Beomgyu and so they forsake watching you in favor of watching the deadly dance of their king and the reviled warlord. 

You didn't expect to do this, you contemplate as your legs that were so heavy before carry you easily towards Beomgyu, as if walking on air, your arms solidly brandishing the dagger you had been gifted by the man on his knees. 

Taehyun is the only one to react to your sudden movement, eyes widening as he gasps. 

Or maybe he’s the only one you can see or hear, because suddenly Beomgyu is turning around to face you, startled. It all happens slowly, so painfully slowly. You can see the concern on his face first, followed by shock when he sees the dagger glinting in the sunlight, and then pain erupts across his beautiful face as the dagger plunges itself into his chest. 

You let out a pained wail even before he does. 

"I'm sorry." You choke out, your fingers grasping the hilt of the dagger in a death-grip as if you could take it back. As if you can undo what you've done. "I'm so sorry."

You hear people running behind you but Beomgyu barks at them. “Don’t touch her!”

They immediately still, clueless as to what to do as everyone else is in this court of madness. As clueless as you are. 

Oh, gods, what have you done?

“Hey, it’s okay. Don't cry.” Beomgyu murmurs softly, braving the pain to comfort you. Always comforting you even as your knife is buried in his chest. “I hate seeing you cry."

That just makes you cry harder. You’ve made a terrible mistake. "Beomgyu, I–" 

Your eyes widen as you’re cut off by a sharp pain that overwhelms your senses, and you look down to see Beomgyu's sword jutting out from your abdomen. You look up at him in confusion, not grasping what you’re seeing. Beomgyu would never hurt you like this. He would never. "Beomgyu?" 

But if the excruciating pain radiating from the sword protruding from your belly isn’t making it clear enough, then the horrified screams of Wonyoung does. "What have you two done?!" 

You also hear an anguished shout of your name, followed by a commotion and what sounds like someone being restrained. 

But you don’t look at any of them. You only look at the man in front of you–your lover, your soulmate, your killer. 

"Shhh. It's going to be okay.” He hushes your pitiful cries. “I'm not going to leave you. Never again." 

Of course. It all makes sense now. Beomgyu promised to never let you go, and he’s not going to break that promise even in death. 

"I love you." He murmurs, pressing a tight, pained kiss to your lips. 

"I love you too." You say helplessly. You deserve it all. You deserve him. You harbored this monster, loved and nourished him, reveled in all the twisted pleasures he gave you, hid between his sharp claws that were sullied by the blood of others. So how can you expect a different end to such a despicable existence?

"I'll find you in our next life." He vows to you, smiling as if it were your wedding day again. "I'll get it right next time. I promise you."

Next time? The thought sends a chill down your spine. 

No, please, let this be the end. You love him endlessly and tirelessly. The sun might grow sick of the day sky, the waves might abandon their shores, mothers might forsake their young, but you’d never stop loving Beomgyu. 

But you can’t do this again. Please, let your souls intertwine and become a distant star, far away from everyone and everything, together forever or until the lights in the heavens go out. But not this again. 

"It looks like you hit my heart. How ironic is that?" Beomgyu lets out a shuddering laugh before he kisses you again sluggishly. "Don't keep me waiting for long. I’ll miss you. I love you."

“Beomgyu, I–” 

He slumps forward, falling limply into your arms. 

Wonyoung shrieks, running towards you and taking him from your paralyzed grip. “Call the palace physician. Get him here now!”

The whole court springs into action, trying to save their king and queen. But you know it’s no use. He’s already dead. You know he’s dead. You can’t feel his soul anymore, and you know that soon, you will be too.

______________

You’re not dead yet. How could you not be dead yet when half your soul is already rotting away? Why are you still clinging onto this miserable world that has lost all its color and beauty with the departure of your loved one? The gods must truly enjoy your suffering to want to prolong it this much. 

When the door creaks open, your dying heart gives a weak thump, still foolishly hoping it would somehow be Beomgyu on the other side, back to tell you that he’s okay after all, that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed to be, and that he forgives you for what you had done. 

But it wasn’t Beomgyu. No, because you killed him. 

It was Taehyun, who now seems to resemble death itself, and for a second you wonder if the gods were playing a particularly cruel joke on you by having your collector take on the form of the man you had betrayed and betrayed the love of your life for. 

“Taehyun?” You ask shakily, growing more anxious the longer he hesitates at the door. Startled by your voice, he finally moves, walking towards you with trepidation in his step that is entirely too human. “I’m here.” 

He takes your hands in his and you stare down at them, feeling the chasm in your heart pulsating hideously at the touch as if in protest. 

"You saved me." He breathes out incredulously, like he can’t believe it. You can’t believe it too. 

"You deserve to live." You tell him, matter of fact. Everyone got what they deserved. 

"So do you." He proclaims and you smile wistfully. Oh, Taehyun. 

"What is going to happen to you now?" You ask him, brushing off his misguided declaration and he frowns, considering whether to push his point or just answer your question.  

For now, he answers your question. "I don't know but princess Wonyoung–well, I should say queen Wonyoung now--is allowing me and Kai to return home if we agree to a ceasefire. I don't think she cares about continuing the war anymore. Neither do we."

"Right." With Beomgyu dead and you to follow him, what else is there to fight about? 

"It won't be easy dealing with the fallout but–" 

"But it's better this way." You finish for him. 

"No! How can it be better when I'm losing you?" His voice wavers and you look at him curiously. Is he going to cry for you? After all you’ve done? 

"Don't cry over me. I don’t deserve it. I loved him." 

"He tricked you. He–"

You squeeze his hands firmly, or as firm as your dwindling strength allows, stopping his empathetic excuses. "I still loved him and you know that. You don’t have to pretend like I’m blameless just because I’m dying. It isn't like you."

"I just…" He trails off, staring down at your joined hands uselessly. 

"I still loved him… I loved him and he killed our baby. He didn’t want me to live if he wasn’t going to have me.” You pause, letting out a tired laugh. It was never about protecting your child after all. It was about keeping you. “You know what the sad thing is? I wouldn’t have wanted to live without him either, but he didn’t even give me the choice. He never did.” 

Taehyun stays silent and you wonder what is going on inside his head. He must think you’re stupid for expecting anything else from Beomgyu. He must think you deserve it now. He must find you abhorrent for saying you would have killed yourself if Beomgyu hadn’t. 

"You should go." You sigh, the breath coming out harder now.

But to your surprise, he shakes his head. “No. I won’t go.” He says, taking out the pearl necklace he was wearing at his failed execution. "I am not going to leave you alone." 

He leans forward, trying to wrap the necklace around your neck but you lift your hand up and push it down, shaking your head. 

"I won't be alone." You say and he looks at you in confusion. "I'll be with him."

His face changes into the contemptuous expression you've been expecting all this time. "You're choosing him again? I can't even win against his corpse?" He spits out bitterly, taking the necklace back and shoving it in his pocket.

"I killed him for you. What more do you want?” You ask him tiredly. Haven’t you already made the ultimate sacrifice for him? Is even this not enough? Can’t you spend your last moments on alive with the one person who loved you? The person you betrayed for Taehyun? The person who is now cold and stiff on his deathbed, waiting for you to warm him up or grow cold next to him. 

He’s so, so cold… 

“You know you never even said you loved me once?" 

“I did–” He protests but you cut him off. “You’ve never said I love you and meant it.” 

He opens his mouth and you hold your breath, the world stilling around you. 

Do you want to hear it? Would it make anything better? It would only dig the knife of what could’ve been deeper. What use is it now?

But you do want to hear it. You want to believe that you could’ve had someone else’s love, that you could’ve deserved more than what Beomgyu dictated for you. 

But then he shuts his mouth again, furiously wiping away his tears as if it disgusted him to have any evidence of them left.

"Go, Taehyun. I don't want to spend my last few hours on this earth doubting if I am worthy of love or not. At least he loved me. He's the only one who ever did." 

And so he leaves–storming away angrily and slamming the door behind him, but he leaves. He always leaves. 

Isn’t it time for you to die yet? 

In the wake of Taehyun’s furious exit and behind your useless tears, you see Wonyoung enter, a vision of an angel as she floats down towards your deathbed. 

"Is there any way I could make you more comfortable?" She asks softly. 

"Why are you so nice to me? I killed your brother."

She shakes her head, always so patient despite her grief. "He killed himself when he started all of this."

You don’t get her. How can she be so fine with this when the weight of what you’ve done is killing you faster than the sword they took out of you. "Aren't you angry at me?"

"What use is being angry? Is it going to bring him back?" She asks, finally letting a little edge creep out in her voice, but she quickly reins it back in. "My brother made a lot of mistakes, some he was driven to and some by his own volition, and they all led to where he is right now. It is no use to dwell on it. Why spend your last hours making you answer for sins you've committed together? For sins I was a part of. I killed him as much as you did when I encouraged his unhealthy obsession."

You fall silent for a while, considering her words. She’s right. What use is it dwelling on any of this and leaving him alone? You’re going to die soon so you might as well let go of your guilt. The gods will make you answer for your crimes whether you feel sorry about them or not. 

"I want to be with him." You finally say and she nods. “He’d like that.”

__________________

They take you to him, laying you both down on your bed before leaving you alone with only a single candle burning on the bedside table. It’s good. Your souls need the peace. 

You look up at your lover’s deathly visage and frown. He used to be so expressive, in happiness, in love, in anger, in madness… never was there such a lively spirit as his, but as you look at him now, you find nothing but emptiness that resounds in your very core. It chills you to the bone as you curl up tighter around him, chasing a warmth that isn’t there anymore. 

You don't know what will become of the others now. Will the war really end? Is Wonyoung going to be a good queen? Will Taehyun get remarried? How will Beomgyu be remembered in a hundred years? Will you both be wiped out from the history books?

You hope so. The oblivion of death can’t come soon enough. 

Mercifully, you can feel the drug Wonyoung had given you making its way from your faltering heart to your collapsing veins, pulling you into a slumber you know you won’t be waking from. 

You smile at the thought, leaning up to kiss the corner of Beomgyu’s lips before whispering one last “I love you.”

And with that, you finally let go.

______________________

A/N: well, it's finally over. make sure to let me know what you thought of the end or i will cry. lol jk but i really really appreciate all the feedback. thank you all for coming on this journey with me. i definitely wouldn't have been able to finish this fic if it weren't for all your support ❤️

and now, click on this link to see the future fics i have in store and vote on your favorite one. the one you pick will be the one i write!

[blueskyscribe]

The reason the third set of Earthspark episodes were such a disappointment to me was that I expected all the plot threads from the previous two thirds of the show to interweave and instead a lot of them were just dropped.

Like why did Optimus need to keep Bumblebee's existence a secret? Why did GHOST think he was dead? And what consequences did Optimus face once GHOST found out Bee was alive? Seemingly none. Optimus showed up so little in the second batch of episodes that I kind of thought they'd retaliated against him and imprisoned or brainwashed him but nah, he's fine and it's never explained why Bumblebee had to fake his own death.

What was the Cybertronians' war initially about? It is unbelievable to me that this wasn't explored. First, it's interesting! Second, it would give us insight into the motivations of the Decepticon ensemble.

The show is a sort of a "what if" AU based on G1, and in G1 the Decepticons were warmongers who wanted to rule the galaxy and enslave everyone. However, if you've read MTMTE you might notice Megatron chiding Shockwave for dismissing the Terrans as "lower class beings" and conclude that the war was about classism. But ultimately the viewer shouldn't have to fill in the blanks from other media. Earthspark should address this within its own show, because the question "Can the Decepticons be trusted, can they be redeemed?" can't be answered without it. Like, if the Decepticons were just The Evil Bad Guys then it wouldn't matter, but if you want them to end up freely walking the Earth then it's extremely important to know if the average 'Con's motivation for joining the army was "I'm standing up for my civil rights" versus "y'know, I just love killing people." Especially since, unlike the easy-breezy G1 cartoon, in Earthspark the TF war resulted in human injuries and deaths.

Shockwave and Soundwave's complicated feelings about Megatron never get resolved or even addressed outside their solo episodes. Which is very odd in a series that put such an emphasis on working out emotional strife, what with the cyber-sleeves and all. In the finale the Decepticons team up with the Autobots and Terrans because Mandroid wants to destroy all robot life: a purely physical threat. And that was a cool fight. But it doesn't resolve any of the emotional baggage. This disappointed me because the emotional fallout of Megatron's side-switch was the most interesting part of the show imo.

Then there was the Starscream episode, which felt like the "Dear Princess Celestia" moral in the last two minutes of a MLP FIM episode without showing how the conflict played out in the previous twenty minutes.

Earthspark got renewed for a second season. (And I'm glad! It has a lot of potential, that's why I was pumped during the first two-thirds!) But they thought they might only get one season, and if that was the case they would have left us with all these dead ends.