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turtle-steverogers · 3 years ago

Note

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

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swinterr · 4 years ago

Text

fic rec vi ♡

hi!

this is a another new set of fic rec and i’ll probably do a compilation of genre (?) just like the first ones.

made some changes like tidying up a bit and adding summary, for those that doesn’t have any summary i’ll try my best to add my own summary (it will probably be shit tho, i ain’t making a smut summary guys, i’m not confident in my describing a fic ability but i’ll try my best. if its in italic it means i made the summary hehez ) if the summary is shit, i made it okay.

read and support the fic and authors here: the fic rec ♡

a for angst

f for fluff

s for smut

// for series or list

nct

jeno

no title by @tyongf-nct | s

- smut blurb.

body guards and boyfriend by @pastelsicheng | f

- sometimes the only way you can really get some alone time with your boyfriend is by making his job hard.

lipstick smears by @kopikokun | f

- jeno never thought trying to get his makeup artist’s attention would be this hard.

jaehyun

[10:30] by @moonttaeil |

- a lockdown moment.

[2:40] by @nct-jungjaehyun | f a

- cute quality fluff time with bf!jae with a dash of angst.

[11:41] by @jeongvision | f

- family time with apples.

just like magic by @starryhyuck | f s

- jung jaehyun’s body count is almost as high as yours. however, after yuta spreads a nasty rumor, you learn that jaehyun’s always imagined those girls to be you instead.

love to hate me by @moonctzeny | s a

- you and jaehyun meet as sm trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you decided to leave the company and pursue a solo career. when you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other.

moving on by @ddeonghwaa | f a

- reader has been chasing jae for some time but when she moved on jae suddenly enter the picture.

sun&moon by @ppangjae | f a

- asking jeong jaehyun to accompany you to your family’s 1-week christmas vacation as your boyfriend has its consequences. one can surely get through 1 week of pretending to be in love with an enemy, right?

snack run with a snack by @kopikokun | f

- on your usual movie night with the members, they assign you sudden snack collecting duty. you’re a little peeved, but at least jaehyun offers to tag along. Unfortunately for you, things really aren’t going in your favour tonight.

lover boy by @neoct-zen | f s

- bunch fics of lover boy jae and reader.

jungwoo

one more time, please by @haequarius | f s

- you don’t know what you and Jungwoo are, but you are certainly weak for him.

jealous by @whiplashsan | s

- jungwoo is all smiles and sunshine until he gets jealous, and he just so happens to get jealous over the smallest things when it comes to you.

doyoung

sugar, spice and everything not nice by @alreadyblondenow | s

- doyoung getting your ring size wrong, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, slight fingering, wedding tragedies.

no title by @ncteaxhoe | s

- dom!doyoung, rough? i need holy water.

the little one by @ethaeriyeol | f

- a gift of life; female reader x husband!Doyoung; fluff, light angst, married au

lucas

exquisite taste by @weishenkonbini | s f

- smut but with a fluffy ending.

for you always by @labyrinthsofyou | f

- in which you surprise yukhei when he forgets about your date.

6:19 by @cozykpopblurbs | f

- a cute fluff ft kun and winwin.

10:18 pm by @nctsoftarchives | f

- reader supports lucas at his superm debut stage.

16:47 by @sichengssmile | f s

- a fluffy smut. lucas a big boi.

missed you by @tokyobts | a f

- after you and yukhei broke up, yukhei still has feelings for you. he reaches out to you at school and tries to get you back. at first you avoid him but later his actions manage to make your heart flutter. you’ve come to a sudden conclusion that you maybe still want him in your life.

johnny

34 + 35 by @domjaehyun | s

- you and your husband johnny decide to take your marriage to the next step.

i couldn’t wait a little longer by @alreadyblondenow | s f a

- you two were never together longer than two days, but the feelings, oh the feelings that you have for each other is clear as the day. it was a never-ending try of making the relationship official. johnny tried, you tried but it never happens.

what happens in korea, not stays in korea by @alreadyblondenow | f s

- a week vacation in korea for your sister’s wedding became even more exciting when a famous dj had a crush on you. johnny was sure that it’s love at first sight. not putting both of your careers on the line, you two had no regrets when the time comes and you finally leave.

laundry day by @immabiteyou | s

- a domestic fluffy smut.

make a wish by @sluttyten | s f a

- you’re jungwoo’s sister, and he’s made it clear he wants you and Johnny to have nothing to do with each other. so you and johnny start fake dating to piss him off.

want it all by @sluttyten | f s

- you are entirely innocent to the point of being naive. johnny is not innocent, but he loves that you are because it means he can teach you everything you don’t know.

sungchan

wish i was her by @softsungchan | f a

- you wished you were her, laying in Sungchan’s arms and feeling his warm breath on your neck, giggling about sweet nothings whispered into the starry night. You wished for it to be you, the girl he liked.

2:21 am by @the32ndbeat | f

- sungchan being whipped, thru a text message.

haechan

14:52 by @ukiyoexo | f

- a cute haechan and reader ft the reader’s baby sister moment.

prince’s order by @nsheetee | f

- prince haechan nurses you after you faint, and orders you to stay with him until you feel better.

sweet treat by @markresonates | s

- haechan takes you for ice cream but all you can think about is sex with him. when you act like a brat, eventually you end up in the bathroom. with no panties.

clingy by @love-mi | f

- I’m not clingy! I just love your company and constantly want to be around you and have your full attention at all times

mark

hyuck is always right by @luvrenjun00 | f

- ceo!mark x reader ft baby donghyuck. a tooth-rotting fluff.

taeyong

snow storm by @whereisten | f s

- a fluffy smut whilst a snow storm.

1:59 by @smoll-tangerine | f

- reader and taeyong ft my favorite game (where i always die first) among us!

bts

taehyung

is this allowed 1 2 by @seokiie | f s

- how were you supposed to know bts would be filming at your coffee shop today? how were you supposed to know a certain curly-haired boy would take a liking to you?

cabin pressure | f by @jiminrings | f

- pilot!y/n who accidentally became famous bc of a viral post about her, best friend!jimin!, taehyung having a shy lil crush on you aND ot7 being meanies for a tad bit :((

art major!tae and biochem major!yn | f by @jiminrings | f

- tae’s cold and probably needs a friend more than he needs a model, y/n feels this nEED to take care of him, a term of enderment then a dash of emotional constipation and a sprinkle of jealousy :D

gank mid lane by @kimtaehyunq | f s

- gank / verb: (in a video game) use underhand means to defeat or kill (a less experienced opponent)

birthday surprise by @ephemeralkookie |

- like every year, you prepare a little surprise for your boyfriend’s birthday, one that you’ve been preparing for days. and after a very tiring day, taehyung only wants to spend the night in your loving arms.

jungkook

cookies & cream | s by @1kook | f s

- jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (and maybe having his dick sucked.)

unholy night | s by @ephemeralkookie | f s

- after a christmas day passed with the Jeon’s family, Jungkook decides to transform the holy night into an unholy one.

‘a short’ abstinence | s a by @seokiie | s a

- maybe blue-balling you boyfriend (who has an insanely high sexual drive) wasn’t the best.

in which she’s done with him by @minstrivia | a

- jungkook angst/fluff where he always pushes oc away (who confesses her feelings but was cruelly rejected) and insults her but she always comes back to take care of him when he’s drunk or picks him up from his one night stands and she finally decides to leave him alone.

bad influence by @noteguk | s

- in which you know jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

jock!jk and shy art major!yn by @jiminrings | f

- established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

special affair by @1oserjk | f

- sugar daddy au except it’s just jk spoiling u thru animal crossing

fairy of shampoo by @ironicarmy | f s

- sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.

abstract ft bob ross by @mimithings97 | f

- paintbrush in one hand, joint in the other and you sitting on his dick is what jeongguk wants. and what jeongguk wants, jeongguk gets.

badboy!jungkook by @jungshookz | f

- badboy!jungkook falls for good girl reader ft the boys and the reader’s apple.

growing by @lesgetittkookie | f

- dad!jungkook teacher his daughter how to walk. super super cute family/domestic fluff.

quiet, baby by @bratkook | s

- i don’t how to write a summary on smuts so imma just put this. reader and jungkook doing something in the subway.

still want that by @whatifyoulivelikethat | s

- fucking min yoongi ex-girlfriend? a terrible idea. being hopelessly in love with her at the same time? an even worse idea. knowing he was being used and still doing it anyway? ah, Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing? part 2 of savage love.

desiderium by @jeonggukingdom | f s

- “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”. a newlyweds!au smut.

chapstick by @softyoongiionly | f s

- based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. or jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you.

lover boy by @jingukk | f

- jungkook likes you. a lot.

unexpected confession by @sunkissedjk | f

- you gathered up the courage to confess your feelings, but it seems everyone in school knows about it before you could even find him.

string attached by @ephemeralkookie | s

- jungkook is what we can call your sexfriend. No strings attached, just you and him having fun and releasing the huge pressure and stress of being idols. But after spending an entire day together, you realize that maybe he’s not just your sexfriend.

no title by @himbojk | f s

- dilf jk.

astro

eunwoo

ceo!eunwoo by @m0onbean

no title by @yutopiada | f

- a cute idol!reader and eunwoo moment at a music show.

disney by @bangchan-sonyeondan | f

- a cute date with eunwoo at disney. reader likes vintage things hence using a disposable camera.

baby, it’s cold outside by @fresh-outta-jams | f

- a cute cold christmas fluff with eunwoo ft. the boys. reader went to the boys’ place for a sweater and cocoa gift exchange.

got7

yugyeom

cruel brothers by @imsarabum | f

- jackson and jaebum have always acted as if they were your big, overprotective brothers. so when they both walk in on you and yugyeom in a very intimate position, things get a little tense!

txt

soobin

a special night by @gyuluster | f

- an intimate insight on the first night of choi soobin’s wedding, consisting of kitchen floors, witches and an eternity of love.

boughs & branches by @jeogiyall | f

- decorating the tree with boyfriend! choi soobin from txt! fluffity fluff fluff with a lot of cute fluff thrown in and a dash of christmastime fluff.

sleepy binnie by @immabiteyou | s

- “i’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now. “ a sleepy soobin smut.

cake by @immabiteyou | s

- reading waiting for mc soobin with the guys. a cute fluffy smut moment.

kpop oc/s

seri by @ggukkiedae

anyway, thank you again for the writers please take care and be safe!

please free to recommend your favorite fic that i haven’t feature yet.

if the links won’t work and i labelled some fics wrong please let me know and i’ll try to fix it as soon as possible!

support the fic and the writers!

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mydogisveryadorbs · 5 years ago

Text

stood up | jj maybank

summary: jj rescues you from being stood up

warnings: slight cursing, mentions of smut (if you squint), tiny bit of angst, tooth rotting fluff, rafe being a prick, jj being a soft angel

masterlist :)

(gif credit to the owner)

2.3k+ words

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It's gotten to the point where you are actually twiddling your thumbs to entertain yourself while you wait. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you glance at the analog clock on the diner wall.

Your waitress, who you've learned over the last five times she's checked on you is named Cathy, walks toward your table again. “You sure I can't get you anything while you wait, sweetheart?” Cathy asks, holding her notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, ready to take any order you give her. She seems like a sweet older woman, maybe in her mid-60s, but you can't help but be annoyed at her for continuing to come to your table. You know it's her job, but doesn't she realize that you're probably not going to change your mind about ordering no matter how many times she comes back.

You feel your face warm as blush blooms across your cheeks and you shake your head. “He should be here any minute,” you tell her in an attempt to be convincing, however, the waiver in your voice giving away your true feelings.

You had been sitting in this booth for just under an hour and a half waiting for your date. To say you were shocked when Rafe Cameron had abruptly asked you on a date last week would be an understatement. The two of you had barely spoken to each other and before that, you didn't even know that he knew your name.

Pulling up the text conversation between the two of you, you check again to make sure that you got the time and date right, even though you've looked seven other times already. Much to your dismay, the text still hasn't changed.

Meet me at Joe’s Diner on

Friday night at 7.

“I'll just grab you another Dr. Pepper,” Cathy says, giving you a look of pity as she takes away your empty glass.

You lick your lips. “Actually, I'll just take a water,” you tell her, knowing that the more sugary, caffeinated soda you drink the more anxious you will become.

Cathy nods. Walking off to another table.

Did he really stand you up?

Sure you were aware of the fact that Rafe Cameron had a reputation of sleeping with a lot of girls, but would he really stoop this low? It's true that you weren't very well known at the kook academy. You made pretty good grades and ran for the cross country team, but for the most part, you went unnoticed at school. Maybe you should have realized that a guy like Rafe Cameron would never actually want to go on a date with a girl like you.

Your stomach turned in your belly and you debated calling your older sister to come to pick you up. Looking around, you noticed most of the people in the diner were giving you sympathetic looks, obviously understanding that you had been stood up.

This might as well go down as the most embarrassing moment in your life.

Gulping, you shuffle your feet under the table preparing yourself to make a fast exit out of the diner. You are taking one last deep breath when someone plops down in the seat across from you.

You quickly look up and your eyes meet none other than JJ Maybank. The infamous pogue and weed supplier of almost every teen on the island.

“Hey,” the blonde boy says to you with a smile, picking up his menu. “Sorry, I'm late. The traffic is insane right now.”

You continue to stare up at him in bewilderment, completely confused about what is going on.

He leans forward slightly and you do the same. “I'm JJ. Just go with it, yeah?” he says in a whisper. “Whoever didn't bother to show up is a dick,” JJ adds, sitting back in his seat as his eyes roam the small menu in his hands.

Your eyes widen in realization and you look around to see that no one is staring at your table anymore. You open your mouth to tell him he doesn't have to do this for you when Cathy returns, notepad open and pen at the ready.

“Finally,” she says under her breath, but still loud enough that both you and JJ are able to hear her. “What can I get for you two?” Cathy asks.

“We'll have two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries,” JJ says in a cheery tone. “Oh and two chocolate shakes,” he adds after a second, handing off both of our menus to Cathy.

You look at him again, mouth gaping open like a fish, but no words find their way out. JJ just smiles at you, softly patting your hand which is resting on the table in front of you.

Cathy finishes writing down your orders and looks up, eyes moving between the two of you in suspicion. “Will that be on one check or two,” she asks, her voice slightly monotone.

“One.” “Two.”

JJ and you speak at the same time. Your eyes move to his and you stare each other down.

“One check, please,” JJ says without looking away from you.

“That'll be right out,” Cathy says, quickly scurrying away from the two of you.

Unable to stand the continuous eye contact with the cerulean eyed boy, you glance down at the napkin in your lap. “You don't have to stay here, you know?” you say to him, not looking up. “I'm fine on my own.”

JJ shrugs. “As far as I'm concerned, I just scored myself a date with a really pretty girl,” he says as if it's no big deal that he just saved you from the embarrassment of the century. “Speaking of which, I didn't catch your name.”

You look back up at him and JJ offers you a small smile. A curl from his mess of blonde locks has fallen on to his forehead and you have an indescribable urge to reach across the table and move it to the side. You've heard a lot about JJ Maybank and his player ways over the years, but being this close to him for the first time you finally understand why all the kook girls are so obsessed with him. He's gorgeous; tall, tan, and toned. The three T’s.

But in the past few minutes, you've decided that there is an even more prominent quality that attracts guys and girls alike in figure eight. It's his pogueness. That's the best word you can come up with to describe the combination of his fashion sense, lifestyle, and aura. Everything about him is everything that kook teens are not. They do say that opposites attract.

“I'm (Y/N),” you say, reaching your hand out across the table for him to shake. It's the first time you've spoken directly to him and JJ is bewildered. Your voice is confident and yet it has a softness to it and JJ can tell from the small interaction that despite the fact that you conform to peer pressure, you have a strong will.

After a moment of silence, you speak up again. “Seriously,” you tell him, sincerely, “You don't have to stay here with me.”

“Seriously,” JJ says, slightly mocking you. “I want to,” his tone is so honest that it makes you really want to believe him. “In fact,” he adds, his eyes brightening with an idea, “Let's make it official.”

You give the blonde boy a confused expression so he continues. “(Y/N)- wait what is your last name,” he asks quickly and you tell him. He clears his throat, pulling one of your hands into his two big ones. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N), will you do me the honor of going on a date with me.”

For a moment you are distracted, looking at how he is holding your hand, but you snap out of it, looking up at him.

You just got stood up by the wealthiest and most attractive guy in figure eight, who by the way has nothing on the blonde boy in front of you. How are you supposed to believe that JJ actually wants to go on a date with you?

You think about the fact that he practically saved you and how he's been nothing but sweet since he got here.

“Sure, JJ Maybank,” you say with a smile.

JJ’s brows furrow and he smirks. “You know me,” he asks, but it's more of a statement. It is your turn to look at him in confusion so he explains. “I never told you my last name.”

You blush, hard, knowing that you were caught. Trying to play it off, you shrug. “Everyone on this island knows who JJ Maybank is.” The blonde boy’s smirk only grows at your statement.

“So I've got a reputation,” he asks cheekily.

You nod your head, playing along. “Oh, yeah. A big one,” you tell him, a big smile growing on your face.

“Hmm, let me guess,” JJ says, leaning forward in his seat. “You've heard all about how I'm a weed-smoking party boy who goes home with a different girl every night?” You nod, the smile never leaving your face. “Well, I guess I have some work to do to show you I'm actually a decent guy huh?”

The boy almost pouts at his words and you can't help but let out a small giggle. JJ smiles wide, thinking that your laugh has to be the cutest thing he's ever heard.

You open your mouth to give him a snarky response, but before you can, Cathy walks to your table with your orders. Your jaw drops and your mouth waters at the sight of the large cheeseburger in front of you.

JJ laughs at your reaction. “I probably should have asked if you eat meat,” he says. “But judging by your reaction you do,” he adds with a laugh.

You blush at his comment as the two of you dive into your burgers and fries. As the night goes on you learn that you have more in common with the blonde boy than you ever thought possible. You share a very similar taste in music and you bond over your love of the ocean.

You are in the middle of ranting about your adoration of sea animals and how you would love to study them one day when you notice JJ staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you ask, feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Do you have food on your face or something?

JJ shakes his head with a smile, resting his chin on the palm of his head. “Nothing,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “You're just really beautiful.”

You know that your face is tomato red at his comment. Pulling your hands up, you cover your face with them in an attempt to hide your blush. JJ tugs at your arms, gently pulling them away from your face. “Hey, don't hide,” he says with a small giggle. “Your blush is adorable.”

A few minutes later when your embarrassment has simmered and your face is back to its normal color, you look up at JJ, copying his actions from earlier and resting your head on your palm.

“You're way different than I expected, JJ,” you tell him with a small sigh.

JJ smiles. “Is that a good thing?” he asks, his smile not faltering.

“Good,” you say, simply.

“Good,” JJ says, smiling wide.

When the check comes you offer to pay half but the boy refuses. “At least let me pay the tip, JJ,” you plead, moving to pull some bills out of your wallet.

JJ puts a hand on yours, stopping you. “Next time,” he says and you comply out of shock from his words. He wants a next time?

Cathy wishes the two of you a good night and you glance down at your phone noticing it was a little past 11 meaning that you and JJ had been together for almost two hours.

JJ walks you home like a true gentleman and the two of you stop in front of your door. He grabs both of your hands in his, looking down at your shoes and back up to your face.

“So, I know this was kind of unconventional,” he says, voice slightly waiving with nerves, “But maybe you'd want to go on a real first date with me sometime.”

He scratches the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes, and a big smile makes its way to your lips.

“I'd love to, JJ,” you say, tugging his hand so he looks back at you. JJ has a smile that matches yours and his eyes flicker down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes.

You bite your lip. “If you don't stop me right now, I'm gonna kiss you,” JJ says seriously.

You look down before looking up at him confidently. “What if I don't want to stop you,” you say, not breaking eye contact with his cerulean eyes.

JJ wastes no time in pressing his lips to yours. His hand reaches up to cup your jaw, the other gripping your waist as his lips work against yours. You let your arms snake around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Pulling away, the two of you breathe heavily.

JJ touches his forehead to yours, pressing a small kiss to your nose.

“You gonna invite me in?” he asks, only half-joking.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Not a chance, Maybank,” you say and he pouts.

“One more kiss,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

You laugh pressing a quick peck to his soft, pink lips before slipping out of JJ’s arms. He lets out a dramatic groan.

“Pick me up tomorrow at 6,” you tell him confidently before you open your door. Looking back you see him nodding profusely so you walk inside, shutting the door softly behind you.

Leaning your back against the door, you can't help the grin that makes its way to your lips.

Your sister spots you as she walks downstairs. “Hey, (Y/N/N),” she says with a smirk. “You're home late. I take it the date went well.”

“Yeah, really well.”

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

Ooh i’m so excited rn omg...what i need rn is more of aizawa and villian!soulmate reader. They just keep acting like a brat until aizawa takes them home and punishes them X3

Prelude - shoutout to y’all for being so patient with me! appreciate it so so much. Also, there was like one other ask that I wanted to include here but I couldn’t find it, so rip. Also, @bbygirlpastel ty for the “Villain? I’ll show you a villain.”

Pairing - Yandere Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - dub con, non con, NSFW, overstimulation, no actual penetration. Creepy Aizawa, vibrators, uhhh literally nothing good here. Dead dove man, if you look at a dead bird and KNOW it’ll taste disgusting and make you sick to your stomach.... DON’T FUCKIN EAT THE BIRD. listen to the warnings my dudes!!

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/6p8eEdiZLKJH8tcjGZuNTK?si=9r_2kgkoR56h9UkBCybxLw

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Maybe he wouldn’t be this infatuated, this utterly obsessed, this angry with you if you had just given in from the start.

You weren’t even a high-priority villain, just some desperate nighttime thug that preyed on innocent bystanders. Snatching wallets, causing a ruckus, stealing from thrift stores or gas stations a couple of times a week. You were a nuisance, but not big enough to catch Aizawa’s attention - not until you stole a women’s watch right in front of him on the street while he was buying a snack from a food-cart before his shift started.

And yeah, Aizawa tried to keep a low profile, not flaunt his hero status in order to effectively capture and subdue villains, but surely you would’ve noticed the man clad in black, obviously sporting hero gear standing nearby. But you didn’t, and then he was grabbing your shoulder so he could drag you to the police station. Aizawa had been surprised when you wiggled out of his grip and took off, and damn, you were fast.

The game of cat-and-mouse had begun, and while the underground hero failed to catch you that night (and every subsequent night he saw you out on the streets) he was determined to do so. Well, maybe not /as/ determined. When it came to you, the man was easily distracted.

The clothes you wore were baggy, hid your form effectively. But if someone looked close enough, they could notice the curves of your body, especially as you ran, evading capture. Aizawa was loathe to admit at first, but it was tantalizing watching you flee from him.

He beat himself up over it. He’d always had a solid grasp of self-control, and usually he felt no attraction to his targets, even if they were wearing the skimpiest of outfits. One time he had turned in a villain wearing nothing but pasties over her breasts and panties (her quirk was seduction-based), and he hadn’t felt anything but utter boredom as he filled out paperwork at the police station while they found her some actual clothes. It probably had something to do with the “soulmate” quirk he had been hit with once, but Aizawa had never really put much faith in it, nor thought about it extensively. He had always had a bit more self control than other men.

So for him to almost have feelings for some low-life idiot? It made his skin burn with irritation (and maybe something else, but he wasn’t ever going to address that). It didn’t make any sense.

The fact that it didn’t make any sense did not stop his brain from plastering not-suitable-for-work thoughts about you whenever he ran upon you committing some minor crime. It was infuriating.

The satisfaction the man felt from finally pinning you down, taking advantage of a small stumble, tackling you down and pressing you into the cold concrete of the rooftop was probably unholy. It just felt so damn good, catching you, forcing you to submit, getting you underneath him. When he had flipped you onto your back, you wouldn’t look at him, just staring off to the side, almost as if you were ashamed.

You should be - stealing from anyone and everyone, being a brat, making Aizawa’s life difficult as you infiltrated every waking moment.

He had started to lecture you, starting out with his usual cool-headed,

unbothered demeanor, but slowly getting more and more annoyed as you still refused to look at him. Pretending he wasn’t there, refusing to listen - Aizawa felt the urge to slap you, just to make you react.

He settled for harshly gripping your chin, forcibly turning your head so he could look at your eyes. Eye contact was an important thing to Aizawa - it was the basis of his quirk, but he wasn’t prepared for the punch to the gut he felt when he looked into yours.

Words escaped him, mouth dropping open, his body frozen. There was - there was something going on. You took advantage of his pause, shoved the man off of you, took off running. Aizawa could do nothing but sit there, staring after your form with his own eyes wide and wondering. What had just happened?

He reflected on the moment for the entire rest of the night, musing over the strange feeling coiled in his stomach, the weird tug in his chest, his brain wanting and desiring and lusting and it was so distracting, he wanted it to stop, but at the same time, he wanted to indulge.

The realization finally hit him - the soulmate quirk he had been hit with, all those long years ago.

Some lady had come up to him while he was shopping, smiling at him toothily before asking him wether he believed in soulmates. He had stared at her for a second, before blankly responding with a curt “no”, turning back to continue browsing the selection of applesauce packets. A hand on his wrist, a burning sensation from his arm to his heart, and then he was rounding on the woman, ready to drag her to the police station for using her quirk in public without a license.

She had just cackled, citing something about soulmates and how he was going to believe now, he’d learn what it would feel like to find your true love when he looked into their eyes. Some sappy, romantic, crazy bullshit that he had ignored and promptly forgotten, before calling the police.

The lady had been deemed mentally ill, driven mad by the loss of her husband in a hero-based accident. Aizawa quickly forgot about the incident.

Aizawa didn’t believe in soulmates, and even if they existed, there was no way in hell that his soulmate would be a villain.

But apparently, the universe did not care about Aizawa’s opinions.

He tried to ignore it, turn a blind eye whenever he saw you sneaking around late at night, would turn and head the other way. But there was no denying the burning flame in his heart, the yearning to see you again, to talk to you, learn about you, what you liked, what you didn’t, where you had grown up, what your aspirations were.

Aizawa hated it.

But he couldn’t ignore it.

The feelings grew and grew, festering in his body like an open wound, infecting his mind, crawling through his veins and slowly seeping into every aspect of his life, until all he could think about was you. The man needed it to stop.

The cat-and-mouse game was picked up again, except this time, Aizawa wasn’t going to give you any opportunities to get away.

You were able to sense the change, could see the rabid look in his eyes when he sought you out for the first time since the night you had slipped out of his grasp. There was something different, and it wasn’t good, it was dangerous.

You managed to dodge him for a time, and some part of Aizawa swelled with pride that his supposed “soulmate” was so clever. The other part of him wanted to break something.

He was almost frightened by the change in him, this volatile anger, the impatience and the lust. That wasn’t who he was, but ever since meeting you, looking into your eyes, it’s what he had become. Maybe if he tracked you down, got close to you, spent some time with you, this needy feeling would go away. You couldn’t run forever.

Aizawa caught you during the daytime, when both of you were off-guard and not paying attention. It was luck, really, or maybe destiny or fate, that he had looked up to watch as passengers filtered onto the subway. You were wearing the same baggy clothes you always wore, hoodie over your head, earbuds in.

There was a backpack slung over your shoulder, and Aizawa watched you sling it off to place it in your lap as you sat down before the doors closed.

It was easy to follow you home, to the dingy little deathtrap you called your own, on the first floor of an abandoned, moldy motel building. It was even easier to follow you inside, through the broken window , his footsteps undetected through the blare of music in your earbuds.

It was less easy to subdue you, with the desperate fight you put up, trying to kick and punch and scream as soon as Aizawa’s thick arm circled around your throat. Still, the man had been subduing unruly villains for a while now, and it wasn’t hard for him to keep his hold on your smaller from, no matter how you thrashed in his arms.

When you finally passed out from the lack of air in your lungs, Aizawa gently followed you down to the floor, staring at you for a moment (god you were pretty, how had he not noticed how pretty you were?) before looking around the room.

It looked like a regular motel room, except there was no TV, there was signs of rot dotting the walls, and the air smelled decidedly unhealthy. He wrinkled his nose as he took it in - you would be much better living somewhere less unsavory.

Which, Aizawa’s home was perfectly capable of hosting an unwilling guest. Aizawa wasn’t naive enough to think you’d be happy waking up in an unfamiliar room, but he figures it would be better than jail. Like hell was he going to hand you off to the police, not when the ache in his chest was subsiding in your presence, the burning need for something lowering to a slow simmer. Justice be damned, Aizawa was going to be the judge, jury, and executioner in this particular case, and he had yet to decide your fate.

----

“You are insufferable - if you would just give in, everything would feel so much better. Holding out like this is illogical.”

He was tired. Tired of your stubbornness, tired of your refusals, tired of your insults, tired of the way his skin itched and blood boiled every time you spat at him or knocked over the plate of food he brought to you.

When he was met with silence, Aizawa sighed. This was getting old. It had been a month since he’d brought you under his roof, a month of holding back, a month of playing nice, a month of letting you “adjust”. But you hadn’t adjusted, hadn’t even tried, and he was tired.

“You’re only hurting yourself by acting like this.“

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to act like this if you hadn’t kidnapped me.” You spat, glaring daggers at the man.

Aizawa paused, almost humored by your spiteful response. “You would rather I have turned you over to the police? The prison system isn’t kind to pretty little things like you. No matter how tough you pretend to be, you’d be broken in less than a week.”

You scoffed, pulling at the chain that held your ankle to the wall. “As if this is somehow better. You’re a sick man, I hope you choke on your next meal and /die/.”

Aizawa gestured to the room, his patience wearing thin. “I could make it worse.”

And he could. He could take away the thin mattress you were sitting on, shorten your chain so you couldn’t reach the bare-bones bathroom, he could stop feeding you, or make you eat scraps like a dog. Of course, he could make it much better too, but only if you’d stop fighting him at every turn.

“I don’t even know what you want. You’re just an old pervert, you’re no hero. You claim to be good and just, but you’re no better than the villains you put behind bars.”

Within a second, Aizawa was crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, yanking you forward until you could feel his heated breath across your face, could see the tension in his eyes.

“I want you to behave.” He ground out. “I’ve treated you with nothing but civility so far, but if you’re so determined to see me as nothing but a villain, then fine, I’ll show you a villain.”

Aizawa was at the end of his rope. It was uncharacteristic for him to exhibit such anger, such impulses and wild feelings, but when it came to you, Aizawa felt like he was an entirely different person, ruled solely by his instincts.

With a push, you were sprawled onto your back on the mattress, quickly trying to scramble upright, ready for an attack. But Aizawa just watched, letting you panic before you realized he was going to stay put. Well, stay put for a time.

There were some things he needed to go get, to show you how good he had been to you, to prove that he had been nice and accommodating. But if you wanted to play dirty, then Aizawa could play dirty.

He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, keeping his eyes locked onto your face. You were such a shy thing, barely able to hold eye-contact, always blushing and stammering and fighting when he made you look at him. It wasn’t his fault that your eyes were enchanting, drawing him in like a spell. If he could, Aizawa wouldn’t mind spending a few hours just watching you, watching your eyes take in the world. Of course, that was an illogical desire, but the man found he was having a lot of those these days.

You huffed as you felt him watching you. “You’re a creep.” The man didn’t answer, and you deflated, voice coming out small “Please…. let me go. I won’t like, steal stuff anymore, alright? Just let me go.”

Aizawa could bet that you were scared - after all, you were nothing more than a common crook. It’s probably the first time you’ve ever been held hostage, the first time you’ve been immobilized. You were probably used to intimidation, maybe even abuse - someone living in a rotted, abandoned motel and living off of what they could steal each day probably didn’t have a good story to tell about what had happened to them.

Either way, Aizawa didn’t really care. If it wasn’t for the tearing sensation in his chest when he was away from you for too long, he’d definitely have handed you over to the police by now. It was driving him insane, how he couldn’t focus, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think, couldn’t live now that his mind was constantly occupied with thoughts of you.

When he went out at night, he worried that you would hurt yourself, or escape - get away from him somehow. When he was at home, trying to do the “right” thing and give you space, not touch you, not invade your space, he was bombarded with the single-minded desire of holding you, feeling the warmth of your body against his chest.

It had to stop. He didn’t know how to make it stop.

Aizawa had tried everything, from leaving you alone, to spending time watching you from the other side of the room - the man had even tried to erase the supposed “soulmate” quirk he was infected with by using his own quirk in the bathroom, staring into the mirror. Nothing seemed to help.

He had tried to be nice, he had tried to be good. But there was still the tugging in his chest, the itch he couldn’t scratch when it came to you. He wanted to do so much, but he wasn’t a villain, he wouldn’t force you.

But there lay the problem.

Aizawa wanted to.

He closed the door behind him as he left your room, the “torture chamber” he had said once, deadpanned tiredly in an attempt at a joke. You hadn’t laughed.

The man supposed that this last month had really just been him warring against the dark, whispering corner of his mind that urged him to just take. To do what he wanted, to lay waste, to ravage you in every carnal way he so desired. To force you to lay by his side at night, force you to give him long, loving kisses, force you into domesticity.

Aizawa knew it was wrong. He had tried to ignore that part of him, push it down, focus on the logical solutions he could think of, the ones that kept his actions pure and heroic. But at this point, with you resisting so strongly? How you called him a villain, a pervert, a creep? Why not let the villain inside take a moment in the spotlight.

That’s what he was thinking as he gathered items into his arms from his room, spending hardly any time picking out what he wanted and needed. He’d had so many dreams, so many thoughts of what he would do to you once you finally submit to him. The man had plenty of ideas, especially now that he was deciding to throw his inhibitions out the window.

The fact that you most likely weren’t going to be willing merely meant that Aizawa added a spreader bar and an extra set of cuffs to the growing pile in his arms.

Stepping back into your room was almost thrilling, seeing your eyes snap up, to the bundle of items he held, then at his face. They were so wide, scared, panicked. It was a good look on you honestly, one that Aizawa didn’t mind seeing more often. He was done being the nice guy.

“This is entirely your fault, you know that (Y/N)?” He mused as he strode forward, crouching to set down a towel on the ground, slowly laying each item down onto it. Might as well build up your fear and anticipation.

“If you hadn’t provoked me so, I would’ve been able to be continue holding myself back.” He could hear your breathing pick up as each item was set down, had to fight down a mocking smirk. “You had to be a brat though, egg me on like that. Well, if it’s not apparent by now, you’re probably going to regret that.”

“Please, please, oh god, this-you don’t need to-you-there’s-“

“Didn’t you just accuse me of being a villain? I’m just trying to live up to your expectations here, isn’t that what you want?”

Aizawa finished emptying his arms, then headed towards you, holding the extra pair of cuffs in his hand. He caught your eyes, watching you beg, try to push yourself back into the wall, away from him. There was no doubt that you were terrified, practically having a panic attack as you hyperventilated, eyes darting between Aizawa, the cuffs in his hands, the items on the towel behind him.

It was easy for Aizawa to grab ahold of your already-bound wrists, pulling them down to the ground, right above the top of the mattress. Quickly, one cuff was attached to your wrist, the other cuff slipped through a small, recessed metal ring in the ground.

After you had…. “moved in”, Aizawa had done some renovations. The angle he had you trapped at now kept your arms stretched above your head, immobile and unable to move more than an inch in any direction. It’d be uncomfortable if you were left like that for too long, but Aizawa was still planning on being somewhat merciful today.

You were still babbling quietly, pleading with the man. “You don’t need to do this, please, please please please please-!” You sobbed out the last “please”, trying to wrench your arms free. Of course it was useless, and you were doing nothing but tiring yourself out, but Aizawa didn’t mind.

It was easy to attach the spreader bar to each ankle, despite the way you cried and kicked, ankles slipping out of his grasp a couple times before he could finally pin them down. Aizawa felt eerily calm, patient, but at the same time seething, excited, almost foaming at the mouth for what he knew was to come.

“Struggling won’t achieve anything, but feel free to do so.” He encouraged, shuffling backwards on his knees to look at you, stretched out body on display.

You were still wearing clothes, a thin t-shirt, a pair of loose basketball shorts - all Aizawa’s. He had immediately told you to leave your old clothes outside the bathroom door when you showered the second day after he had captured you.

You had resisted at first, but quickly relented when the man raised an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders before advancing towards you menacingly. You had gotten the message loud and clear, immediately backing down, agreeing to wear the clothes you were given.

Aizawa retreated to the towel, swiping a pair of scissors off of it. Brandishing them, he snipped them twice in warning. “You might want to be still for this part. I don’t actually want to cut you, so if it happens, it’ll be your fault.”

And then he bent over, carefully snipping the clothes off of your rigid body.

As soon as the last shred of fabric fell away, you breathed in air, immediately letting out a loud, tearful wail. Aizawa felt a twinge of regret, but the quickly-growing bulge in his pants currently outweighed any other feelings he might be having.

Putting the scissors safely out of reach, the man let himself rest back on his heels, surveying your body the way one surveys their food before taking a bite. And oh, was he going to eat you up.

You were writhing, tears falling from yours eyes, still babbling out nonsense as you begged for him to stop, to reconsider, to think about what he was doing.

“I’ve thought about this plenty. It’s called fantasizing.” He murmured, before gently resting his hand against your naked hip.

You spooked like a wild horse, thrashing the second his hand made contact, crying and wailing, shying away from his touch.

Aizawa was glad he had the foresight to bring a gag.

You were so worked up, you didn’t even notice him grabbing it, didn’t register his hand clamping around your jaw, wrenching it open and shoving the ball gag past your teeth. You quickly fought against that too, outright screaming, trying to shake your head, pull away from the hands fastening the strap around your head. But Aizawa was quick, and good with his hands, and your screams became muffled, nothing more than desperate background noise to the defiling of your body.

Resuming his exploration, Aizawa cradled your head in both hands, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “If you relax, it won’t be as stressful for either of us.”

With another muffled scream, you turned your head, tear-filled eyes glaring at the wall.

“Or you can be a brat.” Aizawa laughed, a sound he wasn’t used to making. “Either way, it’s not gonna change what’s happening.”

Returning to the towel, Aizawa picked up the next couple of items, turning back to see you watching him through teary eyes. He presented the items in his hands, showing them to you. If you were curious, might as well let you see how he was planning to take you apart.

The second your eyes fell onto the lube, the bullet vibrator, the skin-safe tape, you wailed again, closing your eyes in horror, shaking your head. Aizawa breathed out his nose, humored at your terrified reaction. Not so tough when you were tied up, at the mercy of a man, were you?

Your legs were already held apart by the spreader bar, and no matter how you squirmed when Aizawa kneeled next to your hip, you couldn’t close your legs. When Aizawa’s warm hand ghosted over your stomach, you cried behind the gag, and when his hand made contact with your soft pink folds, you absolutely bawled, the sound loud and pitiful even as muffled as they were.

Aizawa wanted to tease, to feel all around, rub against your labia, tickle your clit, skirt around your opening. He let himself indulge a little, before pulling back, squirting out a dollop of lube onto his fingers. When the cold wetness touched you, there was barely any reaction, the way you were already panicking essentially making you loose all feeling.

That was alright, Aizawa knew that would change soon.

He let his hand wander around your entrance, massaging the lube into your skin, taking special care of your clit, your inner labia, the puffy folds. The man got lost in the sensation of your warmth underneath his fingertips, eyes slowly falling shut, a low hum coming from his throat in a natural attempt to soothe you.

The man didn’t know how long he stayed like that, gently massaging wetness onto your skin, humming, but by the time he opened his eyes, your weeping had essentially subsided. You were making cute little sniffling sounds, trying to calm yourself, your own eyes closed, limbs almost relaxed, as if you’d accepted your fate.

When Aizawa took his hand away to reach for the bullet vibe, you barely moved. When he pulled back the lips of your labia, nestling the small, ovular vibrator against your clit, you only flinched. He pinched your labia lips almost painfully, hiding the vibrator underneath them as he pushed it hard onto your clit, before taping thick strips over your skin. When he was done, the vibrator was firmly in place, immovable, covered almost completely by your labia, which in turn was held over the vibe with the skin safe tape.

The vibe was turned on, and Aizawa swore that your back arched so fast and hard he heard it pop. You writhed on the thin mattress, pulling at the chains binding your hands to the floor, trying to turn onto your side, bucking your hips, jerking and twisting this way and that at the overwhelming sensation. Aizawa had never used the bullet vibe on himself, but he’d felt the strength of the vibrations against his hand as he decided on a setting for you, feeling the tingly sensations through your skin through the tape, before kicking it up a few notches.

You were screaming behind the gag - Aizawa guessed you weren’t used to toys, but he felt no remorse. He put a strong hand on your hip, holding you flush to the mattress as your hips moved about wildly.

“This is what a villain would do. They’d tie you up, assault you…. Tear you down and exhaust you until you turn into a broken little cockslut. Aren’t I so much nicer? At least I plan on taking care of you after. Plus, I’ll still lo-“

He cut himself off, grimacing at the words that had almost slipped out. Aizawa wasn’t ready to admit that to himself just yet. He wanted to hold onto the allusion that he could resist you, that he didn’t need you, that you weren’t unequivocally important to him

Not like you were listening.

With a sigh, Aizawa sat back, content to watch you writhe as you wiggled your hips, the movement making your breasts jiggle slightly. Aizawa groaned internally, his erection straining, throbbing inside his pants.

“You’re so beautiful, your body is…. Indescribable really.” The man mumbled, eyes trained on your form. A sheen of sweat was covering your skin, making you shimmer, making you slick. Aizawa’s hands itched as he looked at you, wanting desperately to wrap around your waist, to hold you close as he rut against you. But he wanted to prove a point. He wanted to show you that he could be nice, that he had been treating you good, that you shouldn’t be a childish brat and shout insults at him every day.

But god, was it hard to just sit back and watch you.

He unzipped his pants, reaching past the waistband of both pants and boxers, hissing as he took his erection in hand. He was wet, leaking precum, but did he expect anything else? You were laid out in front of him like a feast, delicious.

You were so overwhelmed by the vibrator strapped to your pussy, you didn’t even notice Aizawa beginning to jerk himself off. It’s probably better that way, he figures - if you realized what he was doing, you’d probably have a fit. Your cries faded into tearful whimpers, long whines, which then morphed into guilty moans, enjoyment that you couldn’t hide. When you came the first time, Aizawa was watching your body, stroking his cock in time to the way your hips jumped against the vibe.

When you came the second time, hair a mess, Aizawa moaned your name a little, his own cheeks flushed with embarrassment and desire as he squished his thumb against the tip of his cock.

The third time you came, screaming out muffled nonsense, Aizawa couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned forward, quickly undoing your gag, having to let go of his cock to work on the straps. When the plastic ball was free from your mouth, drool slicked over your chin, gulping breaths being taken, Aizawa surged forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he kissed you hungrily.

You whined into his mouth, naked chest pressed against his shirt, crying in overstimulation as the vibrations between your legs didn’t give up.

“Mhm, you taste-“ The man had broken away from your mouth, only to dive back in again for a quick taste before speaking again. “-so damn good.”

“Aizawa-Aiz-aah! Aah!” You keened, a fourth orgasm washing over you, leaving your nerves tingling, buzzy.

“That’s right, that’s who’s making you feel so good. You feel good, don’t you?” He pressed, crowding closer to you. He was in the process of pushing down his pants, his boxers, kicking them off.

“No, no no no, can’t-can’t-it hurts! Mmmfh-!” You moaned, back arching again.

“Don’t lie. Listen to yourself, you sound like a whore.” Aizawa chuckled breathlessly, turning you slightly onto your side. He was feeling hot, flushed, feverish. He wanted to do so many things - fuck you stupid, cuddle you close, give you warm hugs and kiss your pussy until you ground against his face.

“No I…. I don’t!” You yelped, the way he was positioning you pushing the vibrator into a different position. “Aiz-mmmm, Aizawa! Please-oh god, oh god-oh, please, st-OP!”

A kiss shut you up, Aizawa licking inside your mouth, feeling your saliva smear against his stubbled chin, felt you fighting against your bindings again. Where did you get all the energy?

He didn’t break the kiss to look down, to take himself in hand and guide his cock into the tight plushness of your thighs, right up against your dripping, messy cunt.

When he pushed forward, his mouth fell open. There was so much /pleasure/, he felt dumb, thick-headed and cotton-mouthed. You were so warm, so wet, and the vibrator was still buzzing away happily, pulsating through his cock as it rested against your pussy.

He wanted to cum, right then and there.

Feeling his thick cock pressing between your thighs, you wrenched yourself away from the kiss, whimpering as he pressed his cock up to chase the buzzing sensation, increasing the pressure of the vibe against your skin.

“Wait, ah, wait! Please, no more-mhmm! I’ll-I’ll be gO-od!” You whined, hips bucking again as the feeling built up again.

Aizawa thumbed at the wetness covering your face, trying to wipe away the tears, but simultaneously forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay. Let it out, I won’t look, there’s no need-fuck-no need to be embarrassed sweetheart.”

He reassured, knowing you were close to humming again. This time, he didn’t want you to have to finish alone.

With another gentle caress to your cheek, Aizawa grabbed your hips, before smoothly sliding his cock through your thighs, fucking right against your pussy. It felt incredible, better than anything else he’d ever experienced in his sex life - hell, in his entire existence.

Aizawa tried to hold himself back from humping against you, pumping his hips wildly, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when he was so worked up, not when you were moaning and gasping in his arms, shaking towards another orgasm.

“That’s it, almost there, just a little longer.” He reassured, voice strained and almost cracking in pitch as he neared his end.

“I can’t, I can’t, don’t make me! Don’t-aaah! No, no, plea-SE!”

Your muscles tensed, Aizawa could feel it, your body pressed so tightly against his own. Then you were gone, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent gasp, brows furrowed as you were forced into cumming again.

It made Aizawa burst, feeling your thighs tense around his cock, your cunt convulsing, body trembling. He came easily, covering the inside of your thighs with his sticky seed, before quickly pulling himself free.

He had just had an earth-shattering orgasm, but he needed to get you cleaned up. After all, you had just had /several/ earth shattering orgasms.

The vibe was turned off, the tape gently pulled away You flinched at every tug, skin burning with sensitivity, all of your nerves fried and overstimulated.

Tape off, Aizawa reached up and unbound your hands, quickly throwing the vibe and extra set of cuffs back towards the towel (he hoped - his brain wasn’t working well enough to know if he was accurate or not).

Aizawa felt... good, warm inside. He didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings swirling around in his chest, the contentedness that came from just holding you, but he couldn’t exactly deny all of it either.

The two of you sat there, you lost in your own headspace (subspace? Aizawa didn’t know the terms.. but for you, he’d be willing to learn).

“You did so well, look at you.” The man breathed, looking down at your body. Fuck him, even covered in sweat and cum and fluids, you were still the most enticing thing he had ever seen.

You didn’t respond, just occasionally blinking at the ceiling, still as a mouse.

You were submissive and compliant for the time being, not struggling when Aizawa gathered you into his arms, cradled your head to his chest. His heart soared at the physical contact - you hadn’t let him do so much as look at you without yelling or snarking some mean insult. This was progress.

Aizawa kissed the top of your head, noting that the two of you would need a long shower in a bit.

You were so fucked out, Aizawa almost felt a little bad at your disheveled state.

At least he had been merciful this time.

462 notes · View notes

firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

Text

Smooth

Pairing → Sam Wilson x Reader

Characters → Marvel

Summary → Y/N has to fight off the smile and laughter at Sam Wilson’s chat up lines throught their relationship but here are a few of their milestones.

Word Count → 3.7k

Prompt → Trope: 5 Things Plus 1 for @bonkywobble challenge - congrats on your follower milestone lovely!

SSB2021 Square Fill → Posted at the end of the story as it’s a spoiler // @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → Fluff, sweet, tooth-rotting fluff. Cheesy chat up lines.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first proper Sam Wilson fic - I have done one in the past but there was more platonic - so I hope you enjoy this story!

Firefly’s Masterlist

Sam Wilson couldn’t believe his luck, he’d signed up to the right gym, that’s for sure. There was the most beautiful woman standing at the opposite wall with a group of women. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she instructed the class. It was like he was hypnotised, but at least he was happy about it. Her figure was strong, and she commanded the attention of the women with ease and a stunning smile that made her eyes sparkle.

He dropped his bag onto the floor and folded his arms, as he watched on in wonder while she instructed them to loosen up with various stretches. The way her body bent and twisted into the poses was enough to make him stir under the belt.

Lost in his daydream, Sam didn’t realise the instructor had turned away from the class and walked in his direction. Lost in the sight of her plump lips and then he realised that she was looking at him. No, not just looking, her lips were moving. She was talking to him. He snapped out of his haze and apologised for not hearing.

“Are you here to assist with the self-defence class?” Her eyebrow raised at him, slight confusion on her face.

Now that she was in his personal space, Sam felt nervous. He was usually so quick and an absolute charmer with women. Well, with most people, young and old. He’d get himself out of any situation and this is when he needed his wits about him.

“Uhm- No, I think there’s something wrong with my eyes.” Sam wrinkled his nose and cringed at his train of thought.

The woman looked at him with widening fear and reached out to take his arm, “Right, okay, what do you need? What’s wrong?”

The feel of her soft skin warmed his arm in an instant, a tingle bloomed across his cheeks. Then he refocused back on his plan, even if it could potentially end badly, he wanted to charm her.

“I just can’t take them off you.” Sam grinned, but it dropped when he saw the scowl, she was giving him.

Suddenly the most beautiful sound came from the woman, the laugh that fell from her lips made him feel like a cloud, completely soft and weightless. And the sight of her head thrown back brought the grin back to his face. It worked.

“But I am more than happy to help out with the class.” Sam’s smile didn’t drop but his heart raced at the thought of his offer being rejected.

“Oh, you are definitely helping out now.” grabbed his bicep and brought him to the front of the group. “Now ladies, this is-”

“Sam” He waved and gave them a lopsided smile. “Sam Wilson.”

“Sam is going to be our test dummy for today’s session.” Y/N grabbed a [added vest and handed it to him, “now put this on and be a good boy so these Ladies can practice kneeing someone in the stomach.”

“What? I thought you were going to wrestle me or something.”

“Nuh-uh, good luck sugar.” She grinned.

“Wait, do I get to know your name?” Sam asked as he pulled on the vest.

“You can call me Boss Lady.” She replied and returned to the group of women.

Sam didn’t miss the teasing smirk she sent his way as she walked away and discussed the techniques with the women that were lining up to practise their recently learned moves on him. He was glad he had this padded vest and years of training in the army to deal with the blows about to come his way.

At least he got to meet her, see that stunning smile, and hear that beautiful laugh. It was all worth it.

Y/N stroked her fingers through her hair, a failed attempt to tame the flyaway while giving herself a once over in the pocket mirror. Nerves swirled in her stomach as the Uber approached the Italian restaurant. She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, she hadn’t been on a date in over a year and she had only known this guy for a few weeks through an online dating app.

The maître-d took her coat then led her to an empty table, leaving her to browse the drinks menu. Y/N wasn’t fazed by being here before him, she was a little earlier than planned and decided to order a glass of wine.

Yet, the minutes ticked by. Y/N sipped on her drink, eyes focused on the entrance for any sign of her date but after twenty minutes and an ignored message, she decided to ask the waitress to clear the reservation and bring over the cheque for her wine. She wasn’t going to sit there any longer, waiting for someone that wasn’t going to arrive.

Feeling scorned by being stood up, she left the restaurant in a flurry but tried to remain composed and swiftly began to walk down the block to the busier part of town to hail a taxi. But before she reached the end of the sidewalk an illuminated sign across the street caught her attention. Compound. It was the place that Sam had mentioned to her earlier in the week when they were at the gym.

They’d formed a good friendship over the last few months and with a few of the other regulars at the gym. Sam had invited Y/N alongside Bucky and Nat who were personal trainers at the gym. Y/N knew them well but had declined the invite to the bar that was now opposite her. She made up an excuse, unsure as to why she lied about needing to go to her parents.

But now that she was here, she might as well put the time she had in getting ready to good use. She could just think of some other excuse and pretend like the evening hadn’t started as badly as it did. With a renewed surge of confidence, she skipped across the street and entered the bar.

It was busy but considering it was a Friday night, most people ventured further into town for a night out. She spotted Bucky and one of his best clients, Steve, at one of the pool tables in the corner. Bucky had just broken the set and Steve moved to take his shot. That’s when Y/N saw that Natasha was here too, almost hidden from view by the muscular giant that was Steve. Y/N was sure that Natasha never looked less than radiant, she never looked out of place anywhere. She was perfect.

Y/N removed her coat and hooked it up, uncertainty starting to worry her about turning up unannounced. She shook it off and walked over to the bar to grab a round of beers to take over to the table, she couldn’t go over there empty-handed.

At the sound of her name being called, she turned around to see Bucky, his signature smile on his lips and arms opened wide to welcome her in a light hug.

“Hi Buck, parents didn’t need me so thought I’d gate crash.” Y/N grinned and held up the bottles, “And I have beers.”

“Always welcome. But we need one more.” Bucky gestured over to the table, the new addition at the table was Sam.

An unexpected rush of butterflies assaulted Y/N’s stomach as she ordered the remaining beer and walked over to the bar with Bucky in tow. She greeted everyone, pausing as she approached Sam. This was the first time she’d seen him in something other than gym clothes and she appreciated the form-fitting shirt that hugged at his muscular arms.

“Somebody call the cops because it’s got to be illegal to look that good!” Sam bellowed out and held out his arms, gesturing up and down her body.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that erupted and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was glad that her date had stood her up because now she was able to enjoy the night with friends that wanted her to be around. Plus, who doesn’t love a confidence boost from a handsome guy?

Even though Sam used the most ridiculous lines to get Y/N’s attention, something was charming about him. It was a confidence boost for sure and when later that night, he asked her on a date, she secretly hoped that it was going to lead to something more. Even if the rational voice in her head told her not to get attached too soon.

Sam couldn’t believe his luck; they were on their fifth date and Y/N had invited him up to her apartment for coffee. Of course, he hoped it was code for sex. But honestly, he didn’t mind if that didn’t happen, he just wanted to spend more time with Y/N. She was great company, had a wicked sense of humour and was genuinely fun to be around.

Nerves bubbled in Sam’s stomach while he waited for Y/N to return with their drinks. He had sat on the cosy couch that was adorned with plush cushions and the softest blanket he’d ever felt but he needed to distract himself from the butterflies somersaulting in his stomach. A display of photographs and memorabilia adorning one of the walls caught his eye and he wandered over.

Several photographs of Y/N with different groups of people; at festivals, out for dinner, on vacation. Some of the frames had ticket stubs tucked into them, the other frames had ornaments hanging from them or polaroids stuck to the corners. It was a collage of happiness and colour. He couldn’t help the smile that formed as he thought of all the possibilities of their dating heading towards making memories like this, together.

Sam returned to the couch and Y/N placed the cups onto the coffee table. He noticed the change in her body language; she smoothed down her skirt several times, a coy smile played on her lips as she sipped on the drink. He grinned, she was on the same page as him and maybe just as nervous.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Sam’s voice gained her attention, “I’m happy to wait and see where things go if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled, she looked as if the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders and then she plunged towards him. Their lips met in a heated kiss; Sam was shocked at the sudden change of pace, but he couldn’t resist the need to feel her body pressed up against him.

They both pulled back for air, and Sam brushed his knuckles against her cheek, “I guess that means you do want to do something.”

Y/N bit her lip and shuffled backwards, straightened up and gestured for him to follow her to the bedroom. Sam kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie in the doorway, completely enamoured by Y/N while she removed her heels.

“Sam, can you help?” Y/N looked behind and pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing the zip that she couldn’t quite reach the top of the dress.

Slowly, the zip glided down, showing a hint of the black lace underwear. Sam looked up to the ceiling, thanking God for the beauty before him. She turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers delicate and features focused on the clothing. But there seemed to be an air of nervousness coming from her.

Sam tipped up her chin before she could finish undressing him. He kissed her lightly, in hope to ease her, comfort her.

Their lips parted and he rested his forehead against Y/N’s, “as I said, we don’t have to do anything.”

Y/N nodded and guided him to the foot of the bed to take a seat, “I’m okay. It’s just been a while.”

Sam was in a similar situation and didn’t want his nerves to add to the concern that was already laced on her features as she stood in front of him, “We’ll do this at your pace.”

She nodded, a smile now taking over her features as she removed her arms from the sleeves of her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Sam’s mouth dropped agape as he took in her all beauty; the soft skin that curved and dipped in exquisite ways.

His hands rubbed at his thighs and looked back up to the woman who approached cautiously, a smirk on his face, “I hope you know CPR because you are taking my breath away.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip and straddled his lap, “I think I’m pretty good at mouth to mouth.”

Sam held her waist with one hand, the other exploring and massaging the exposed skin of her thighs, her hips and stomach before he reached for her neck. Their lips crashed together, and they shuffled up the mattress, exposing more of their bodies and letting passion guide them through the remainder of the night.

The episode of The Big Bang Theory played in the background, Y/N was too occupied with painting her toenails, her feet rested on the coffee table as she tugged up her sweatpants for the fifth time in the hopes to not smudge the polish.

Sam had been in the bedroom for ten minutes, putting on an outfit that he needed Y/N’s approval on. At least they’d ordered food before he went in there because otherwise, Y/N would have consumed everything in his fridge which didn’t consist of much other than a block of cheese and a bottle of vodka.

The buzz at the intercom made her jump but luckily there were no smudges to her newly pampered feet.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N shouted from the lounge of Sam’s apartment and headed to the front door to wait for the delivery person. She handed the guy some bills and a little tip before hitting the door shut with her hip.

Y/N held onto the pizza boxes and bottle of soda tightly and cautiously made her way down the hall. She waited for Sam to appear, but he still hadn’t come out of his bedroom. It was getting a bit ridiculous now.

“Sam, hurry up or your food is going to go cold.” She called and poured out the drinks.

“What do you think?” Sam asked as he entered the room, arms wide as he twirled slowly.

Sam was in a crisp white shirt, smart black trousers, and a suit jacket. The bowtie was a little crooked, but it made his sheepish grin all that more endearing to her.

“A little formal for movie night don’t you think?” She smirked and dipped an onion ring into the garlic sauce.

“Thought it might impress you.” Sam grinned at her, “Thought it would bring a bit more class to the charity gala. We need to raise money for the community centre.”

“Well, I think you look rather handsome and I’m sure someone will bid a lot of money on you.” Y/N’s eyes squinted at him, for being reminded that Sam was being auctioned off alongside Steve and Bucky for dates to the rich women of New York.

Y/N knew they weren’t exclusive, but she knew they weren’t dating other people, they just hadn’t talked about that. It had only been a couple of months since their first date and as much as Y/N was enjoying Sam’s company, she didn’t want to rush into anything or mistake how she felt and that it was unreciprocated.

“Do you know what my shirt is made of?” Sam walked towards her and knelt to be at her eye level, “Boyfriend material. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek then stood back up to return to the bedroom while Y/N remained glued to the spot, eyes wide at the way he’d casually pulled off another cheesy line and quietened her insecurities in one swift movement. She was falling, hard.

Sam pulled the van into the driveway, feeling giddy at the sight of Y/N standing on the porch with their realtor. The sun beamed down onto Y/N’s skin, an ethereal glow as she spoke animatedly with Phil, probably talking his ear off about the cost of hiring a van themselves in comparison to hiring a removals company.

It had taken them a while to get here but Sam was over the moon to be where they were now. Everything came into alignment, apart from the odd bump in the road. But after many sleepless nights, a last-minute scramble for cash and only a few days to pack up their separate lives; they were finally moving into their dream home.

They had talked about this for months, both unsure to take the leap when viewing different houses until this one came along. The minute they walked into the place, it felt like home. It was vacant and they were able to imagine what it would look like with their belongings; where the sofa would look best in the lounge or which room should be the guest bedroom or office space.

Of course, the kitchen was Sam’s favourite place, it was open planned and the best for socialising and he couldn’t wait for everyone to come round for a barbecue as the French doors opening onto a patio that stretched into a neat lawn. Perfect for hosting their friends this summer.

“Did you get lost pumpkin?” Y/N smiled at him.

“Never, I’m like a homing pigeon when it comes to you.” Sam chuckled, “are we ready now Phil?”

The middle-aged man that had a childlike spark, gave him a curt nod, and headed into the property, “Right this way.”

The papers were signed, and all that was left was to be handed over the keys so that they could begin unloading their belongings. The atmosphere was charged with excitement as Phil placed a set of keys into Y/N’s hands.

“Be careful with those.” Sam gave her a lopsided smirk and a raised brow.

“I’m not going to lose them!” She retaliated.

“Yeah, but this one,” Sam pointed to one of the keys, “is a special one.”

Y/N turned to him, brows knitted together in confusion, “what are you going on about Sam?”

Sam placed his hands on her shoulders, focusing her attention on him. His face lined with seriousness, “It’s the key to my heart.”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him.

“Nailed it!” Phil said as he high fived Sam, “Now, I will leave you lovely pair to get acquainted with your new home.”

Y/N placed the keys onto the kitchen island and looked out onto the garden. Sam’s arms wrapped around her waist; his chest pressed tightly to her back.

“We did it, baby girl,” Sam whispered into her ear and lightly pecked her cheek.

“That we did.” She turned her head to capture his lips with her own.

Y/N grabbed the plates, shoving them into the dishwasher while Sam waved Steve and Peggy off from the front door. It was a good date night, regardless of the lack of wine. Peggy was almost ready to burst with the twins that had wriggled constantly in her belly. They’d finally decided on a name but refused to tell Y/N or Sam.

“Anything else I need to do, baby girl?” Sam asked as he returned to the kitchen.

“All done in here.” Y/N yawned, “Think it’s time for bed.”

Sam’s face dropped for a split second, but Y/N spotted it. She wandered round to his side of the room and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers massaging the back of his head.

“What’s up?” She asked, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

A grin formed on his lips, the warmth spreading to her in an instant, shared happiness was a beautiful feeling.

“I was just thinking that I don’t think there’s anything I’d like to change about you.” He swayed your body to the music that filtered through from the music dock in the living room.

“So why the grumpy face?” Y/N pouted and squeezed his cheeks together; lips mushed into a dramatic grimace.

“Because I realised there was something I’d like to change,” Sam mumbled through your hold on his face.

Y/N pulled away instantly, her hands dropping to her side as anger began to bubble under her skin, “excuse me?”

Sam tugged her by the waist, keeping her close, “Let me finish.”

She relaxed the tension in her body and placed her hands back on his chest, the annoyance still simmering but less noticeable. Sam’s fingers traced soft lines up and down her back until she gave in and placed her head on his shoulder.

“Now, where was I? Ah yes, the one thing I’d change about you.” He spluttered as Y/N hit him on the arm, lightly but still effective. “The only thing would be your last name.”

Y/N cringed at the chat-up line and pulled away, breaking their hold in favour of turning out the lights in the kitchen before re-joining him but he was nowhere to be seen when she turned around. The sudden silence had her on edge as she headed to the lounge to find Sam kneeling in front of her, his hand raised with a velvet box.

She gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, he was being serious. He wasn’t using some cheesy chat-up line, well he was, but he was doing this! Y/N squealed internally, the sudden realisation that Sam was talking had her snapping up to his eyes.

The gorgeous brown brimming with tears as he told her how much he loved her, “I want you in my life always baby girl, will you be my wife?”

“Yes!” she responded, throwing her arms around his neck as he spun her around the room.

Y/N pressed kiss after kiss to every place she could, their salty tears mixing in with their passion. Sam pulled back with a chuckle, he took her left hand and placed the sparkling ring onto her finger.

He might have used his cheesy pick-up lines to get to this point, but Y/N loved every single one. Especially this one.

The End.

SSB2021 Square Fill → Proposal // @star-spangled-bingo

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes

#Sam Wilson x Reader #bonkyshalfwayto1k #SSB2021 #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson Fic #Star Spangled Bingo #Sam Wilson Fluff #Sam Wilson Fanfiction

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quantumlocked310 · 4 years ago

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Order Up! Part 1 of 2

Extra Hot Hvitserk Macchiato for @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom on the bar!

Summary: You finally run into the cute barista from your favorite coffee shop when he’s not working. Will he be charming enough to lure you into bed? Or are you confident enough to invite him in yourself?

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut will be in Chapter 2

Note: This is technically a sequel, but can be read without reading Pour Overs and Pastries. (but that one is really cute, so you absolutely should if you haven’t)

Crossposted on AO3

+++++

The new job was going swimmingly. Your coworkers loved you, and you were crushing problems left and right. You’d even saved the company several thousand Krone by finding a smoother, more efficient way to execute some accounting procedures. The company was so happy they’d taken the chance on you, even though they had to go through all the trouble of coordinating the visa and moving you from New York to Denmark.

You’d fallen in love with the city, and your new life. Each workday you begin with coffee from Lothbrothers. The office has a little kiosk in the foyer, but the coffee from the little shop with the cute barista is worth the extra expense.

For three months your morning routine is peppered with pleasant conversation from Sigurd, local gossip with Ivar, and a whole bunch of covert staring at the muscles in Hvitserk’s back as he putters around the bar.

Two weeks into your daily trips to the shop, Ivar had turned to you while waiting for your drink and demanded your name saying, “Du er kommet her i to uger…” before seeing the look of immense confusion on your face and switching to English while rolling his eyes. “You’ve been coming here for two weeks now. Guess you’re a regular. Why are you in Denmark?”

You’re a little taken aback at his abrupt tone, but seeing as he has spent the last two weeks staring holes into his computer it is possible he’s just a little intense. You turn to him and say “A new job. I moved from New York,” but almost can’t spit it out, because as soon as you turn to answer him his icy blue eyes capture you in their magnetic pull.

You blink and he’s no longer looking you in the eye. “New York is a long way. Why Denmark?”

Shrugging you rest a hip on the counter and check your watch quickly. “It was the first overseas company I found willing to hire an American in the position I wanted. I’m very lucky, and very good at my job. Not to mention the perk of viking men.” You wink at this handsome stranger, and he looks away, a little flustered. Perhaps if you can’t catch the barista’s eye, you’ll have fun with this Dane instead.

“Latte for Y/N.” A voice growls from your side, and you turn around to grab your drink.

“Thank you, Hvits…” He is gone before you can finish his name, without so much as a “Thank you for coming,” like usual.

You frown, but suppose it must be busier than usual and turn back to the stranger you’d been conversing with. “Excuse me, I have to run to work, but it was very nice to meet you.”

“And you as well.” The stranger waves you off, and you scurry away, mind a flurry with thoughts of what you could’ve possibly done to piss off the cute barista. Was he just busy? Did you say something to the stranger that made him angry? You realize you never got the stranger’s name, but the rest of the anxious thoughts flow away with the calming walk to your office building.

+++++

The next day you learn the stranger’s name is Ivar, and you strike up an interesting friendship. Each morning you greet each other and while you wait for coffee he tells you all about the other patrons. You learn the large man on the bench from your first day is Bjorn, Ivar’s half brother. “But that’s a story for over drinks, not coffee.” You laugh together, but you have to go before he can ask you out for those drinks.

Ivar says the man at the window is the leader of a local church. Not a priest, and not a cult leader, but almost. Ivar is unashamed about his belief in their higher power, but makes it clear he doesn’t have a large commitment to Loki’s teaching specifically. The way he speaks of the older man, it seems like something had happened between the two, but Ivar is stubborn and refuses to speak anymore on the subject.

After six weeks of talking, Ivar tells you he’s an editor for a major Danish publisher. His sharp and ruthless mind makes sure no mistake is unaddressed and you get to sample some of the works he reads as he complains about plot holes or token characters.

Ivar seems to know everyone in the cafe, or can at least point someone out as new and predict if they will come back or not. Hvitserk will sometimes chime in with a comment about a patron. That they like this or that drink. That they don’t like raisins. That he thinks yellow isn’t their color. Or he bets they work for this lawyer or that restaurant.

Over the weeks you find out more little things about the two men, and you stop flirting with Ivar. You’ve noticed it gets him flustered and he seems to actually get uncomfortable, but he refuses to talk about it and changes the subject whenever you try. So you move on, and continue the friendly banter and non-sexual subjects. You’ve learned Hvitserk will stand up for the other employees. When someone is rude to Sigurd he will take over with a menacing glare and put in their order without a smile. If he hears harassing comments from people in line he will kick them out without thought, and Ivar supports him every time.

Your affection for Lothbrothers grows with every week you spend going to the coffeeshop, and your friendship with Ivar, and your crush on Hvitserk soar with it too.

+++++

Bright and early Saturday morning finds you browsing the local market for fresh finds. On the weekends you indulge your Farmer’s Market Aesthetic side and cook anything you can find. You’ve even started to befriend one of the local boulangers after he realized you love to hear about his process for choosing bread flavors for the day.

While talking to Pierre about his sourdough starter, you notice out of the corner of your eye a tall man approach the market stall. Pierre pauses in your conversation and you turn to get a better look at who is buying.

“Hvitserk?” His name slips out of your mouth in shock. You’d never run into anyone you know, who wasn’t a vendor, at this market before.

His head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as he stares at you, clearly thinking something similar.

“It’s Y/N. From the coffeeshop. Good Morning!”

“Yes, Y/N. Ivar’s new friend. Good morning.” He seems to pause, perhaps thinking about if it’s socially acceptable to turn tail and run. But then he simply asks “How are you?”

“I am well thank you. All the better for Pierre’s delicacies.” You smile toward the seller then ask, “How are you?”

“Well also, thanks. Do you come to this market often?”

“Only every Saturday for the past, oh, five weeks? Do you come here often, as well?”

“I have not been back in a long time.” He seems to think inwardly for a moment before coming back to the present. You wonder what makes him look like that. Who ruined this peaceful market for this gorgeous man?

“Well then you won’t have met Sara yet!” You grab his free hand and start pulling him toward one of the newer market stalls. On the way over you seem to realize what you’ve done, and try to pull your hand away out of propriety, but Hvitserk tightens his hold just a little and you can feel your face heat as you continue to hold hands.

There are a few people in line when you arrive, so you continue to make small talk, asking “So what made you decide to come to the market today?”

“I like to see what’s new or in season to add to the menu for the shop. Unfortunately the schedule doesn’t always allow me to scope things out as often as I like. Yourself?”

“I try to cook locally on the weekends, since I don’t have time during the week. There is amazing produce here, wait ‘till you try…” You’re interrupted by Sara proclaiming “My favorite customer!”

You laugh and hug your friend awkwardly over the counter. “Good morning, Sara. I want you to meet Hvitserk. He’s the barista at that amazing cafe by my apartment.”

“Co-Owner and barista, actually. It’s nice to meet you.” He reaches out his hand to greet Sara.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize. How cool!” In all your talks, Ivar had never mentioned. You panic for a quick second before continuing. “Sara is the best beekeeper in all of the North. She also works part time with me in the office.”

“Welcome to ‘Sweet as Honey’! What can I get for you?” Sara chimes in with a big smile.

“He wants the small tasting jars. Lavender, Jalapeno, and Chai.” You turn to Hvisterk “Her flavors are ingenious and she comes up with new ones all the time. She brings in samples to work, so I'm both spoiled and biased.”

“I can’t wait.” He smiles softly. You go to pull out your wallet, but Hvitserk is already handing Sara some Krone. “You’ve bought enough coffee from me. I think I should return the favor.” He winks and inside you swoon a little. His flirty smile is a welcome change from the cool professionalism you get from him at Lothbrothers’.

“Thank you for stopping by! It was nice to meet you Hvitserk. I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N?”

“Bye, Sara! See you then.” As Hvisterk turns to walk away, Sara looks at you and points at him, then fans herself and pretends to faint. You give her a quelling look and shake your head no. She gives you an incredulous look in return, as if to say “Why not?” You shrug briefly thinking “I don’t know where this is going.”

You turn around to find Hvitserk has claimed a small bench by a tree a few feet away from Sweet as Honey. He pulls out the first of the jars, a small bag with six little cubes of bread inside, and a tiny wooden stirring stick. The heat of his body is scalding where you can feel it next to you, the bench only large enough to allow a sliver of air between you.

His large hands open the top on the Chai infused honey, and you watch his long fingers use the tiny stick to spread just enough honey on the first of the bread cubes. He offers you the cube. It would take nothing to grab it from him and pop it in your mouth, but you hesitate. He’s offered it at face level, so you take the chance. Your plump lips wrap around the soft bread, and your tongue sneaks out to lick any remaining honey off the tip of his thumb and forefinger.

In the time it takes you to chew and swallow he has acquired his own piece of honeyed bread. His is prepared lightning fast while barely taking his eyes off your face. The green of his iris is just a sliver, almost completely taken over by the black of his dilated pupils.

A quiet moan seems to force its way out of his chest as you make eye contact. “How does she get the delicate blend of cardamom and cinnamon?”

You clear your throat, but your voice is still a little husky. “I told you she was a genius. Try the Jalapeno.”

Together you try all the honeys, and Hvitserk comments on the balance of flavors, the texture, and how he would love to use some of them in either the pastries or the drinks at the shop. He also reveals that while they now have some bakers help in the morning, Hvitserk is still the one who recipe tests and makes all the menu decisions.

He puts his hand on your knee. “Stay here for a moment while I talk to Sara? I’ll be right back.” You watch him walk away and stare unabashedly at his ass perfectly hugged by his skinny jeans. He talks to the beekeeper, and you watch them exchange business cards

This day has turned out to be amazing, and you don’t want it to be over. Hvitserk has turned out to be an incredible conversation partner, and you can feel in your gut that the two of you click in a way you haven’t felt in a while.

When he returns, Hvitserk offers you both hands to help you from the bench. You take them, and as soon as you stand up you blurt out, “Come over for dinner tonight?” You wince at your tactlessness, but continue with “I bought so many good ingredients, and it would be an honor to share them with you.”

“I’m at Lothbrothers’ until 7. Can I come by after that?”

“7 is great. What’s your number? I can text you the address.”

You both exchange phones and add the new contact. When he gives yours back, you see he’s put Hvitserk Lothbrok in, but he’s also listed himself as “Hot Barista.” You roll your eyes at him when you look back up, and he throws you a flirty wink before saying goodbye and giving you a kiss on the cheek as well.

After watching him walk away you run back home and start prepping the menu, cleaning your apartment, and making sure you have some good wine to go with the meal.

Read Chapter 2 here.

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @appledressing

#hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x you #see what I did with the moodboard #hviterk is a drink #a tall glass of sweet sweet danish coffee #with caramel drizzle ontop #smut will be in the next chapter #promise #modern hvitserk

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years ago

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Pre-Salted Coffee

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 3 prompt of coffeeshop, I thought I’d return to the cafe I wrote about Remus owning in last years Dukexiety week. If you’re curious about that story it’s here but this stands alone from that really.

Summary: Since Remus and Virgil married they take turns over who plays the manager of the store, but it’s still the best thing ever to have a customer complain and ask for them.

Warnings: unsafe cafe practices. seriously do not act like Remus in a Cafe shop ever. minor weapon mention

/\/\

When Remus opened the Chaos Bakery it was as much for something to pass the time as a way to pay the bills. Since he married Virgil however it became a lot more of a game than either of those things.

The picture Virgil had given him when first attempting to ask him out was still stuck to the wall, looking as much cradled by Mr Crack as whatever Remus had actually painted for him to hold. He'd long forgotten what was underneath Virgil's picture and quite liked that. It could be a surprise if they ever sold this place, the discovery of what Remus's squid mural was actually meant to be cradling.

Today Virgil had said he'd look after the till and serving customers so Remus could manage the chaos. It was definitely beyond time for some chaos to be managed regardless since the menu was getting worryingly close to normal flavours and their cupboards actually appeared half way organised after Virgil had been doing the cooking and stock taking more often recently. They couldn't let the cafe lose it's main charm of bizarre flavour combinations.

“This is Not What I Ordered!” The snap had Remus turning to the window he'd pass orders through. He hadn't changed any of the orders Virgil had given him, and mixing up a drink order was the last thing either of them would do. Weird flavours are all well and good but risking someone having a bad allergic reaction was another.

“Pretty sure you insisted on the basic coffee we sell. If you read the menu today's basic coffee is pre salted. The drink is what you got and if you wanted something else actually looking at the menu is the usual method for getting it.” Virgil hissed out, the glare in his voice was one Remus loved to cause occasionally, especially with compliments on how vicious his ideas could be.

Before Remus could think to much on that though he heard the most exciting words get called out, almost yelled by the customer. “Where's Your Manager! I want to make a complaint!”

He was flipping into a handstand before he could hear Virgil's snicker. “If you're sure you want me to fetch him, just a minute.”

They'd agreed when their relationship became serious and Virgil decided to help out in the cafe that whomever was working the kitchen would be the effective manager for the day since neither wanted the responsibility of the title all the time. Both of them would share the role if they ever decided to hire more staff but for now it was purely who was in the kitchen was the manager.

It's almost a shame when the kitchen door opens for Remus, Virgil already stood out of the way knowing that the demand for the manager had been heard. He'd wanted to open it with his toes and shock whichever harpy was causing a fuss to silence.

“Behold, the manager of this fine establishment. Though I don't see what you think asking for him is going to get you.” Virgil was already moving into the kitchen, food orders he'd recently taken in hand.

The customer, a blonde woman in absurd heels Remus wanted to turn into weapons but knew would never be so imaginatively used by their owner, tapped her foot. “Well. Aren't you going to face me, or is it normal in this sty to wave your feet in the face of paying customers?”

There were sniggers from a few tables that Remus guessed held their regulars. “I am facing you and wondering just how tight those shoes must be to remove your sense of humour so entirely.” He called up, wobbling back a step, just enough to see her face.

“I'm making a formal complaint. Your barrista added salt to my coffee when I distinctly ordered it plain.” She glared down, leaning over the counter to meet Remus's eyes.

He just stretched a leg towards their menu. “Can you read this line or are harpy's not taught how to read when learning to blend in with human society?” He asked, more certain than ever that he'd remain upside down while this karen was in his cafe.

She followed his leg with a sigh, reading aloud, “This weeks coffee grounds come pre-salted. For any ingredients lists or allergens advice check the menu, just ask, or pray to Mr Crack on the right hand wall for divine inspiration.”

“And that's your complaint resolved. You failed to read what it plainly written on our menu and are causing a fuss over something in plain sight. Obviously Mr Crack did not bless you with wisdom, but curse you with an unfortunate sense of taste. Time for you to leave.” He couldn't help cackling a little as she'd stepped back after finishing reading, realising her anger was going to get her nowhere.

For a few moments Remus thought she wasn't going to leave and decided to try making a coffee for himself just using his feet. Apparently seeing him pick up tools with them was enough for the rude customer to leave the store as close to running as she could in stilettos that high.

“I'll not have my husband scold himself because he wants to remain upside down. Up, now you talking circus act.” Virgil had come out of the kitchen and was snatching away everything Remus needed to make his coffee, even disconnecting it from the machine if necessary.

“Aww, Rainstorm, you do me harm with so little trust in my abilities.” Remus still flipped himself upright again, kissing his husband before he could react properly.

Virgil rolled his eyes, shooing him back towards the kitchen. “I do no such thing. We've got more customers to serve a bit of madness to and you only delay it when you're in an upside down mindset.”

They were both snickering as they returned to their roles for the rest of the day. Remus had had a blast opening this cafe and running it alone, but having the love of his rotting heart run it alongside him was even better.

#dukexiety #dukexietyweek2021 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #unsafe cafe practices #minor weapons mention #coffeeshop au

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minniepetals · 5 years ago

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Rose & Thorns: 03

— summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

— pairing: dragon!jungkook x reader x dragon!jimin / future!bts x reader

— genre: angst / poly!au / fantasy!au / dragon!au

— word count: 6.0k

— warnings: orphan reader, insecurities, other members are still jerks but better here, insomnia, reader not eating, mentions of Jimin’s bad eating habits, emotional/physical health risks, hurt and comfort

╰ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

The thorns grew and grew drastically over just one night.

A night filled with terror, of coldness, of the hard floor below you, and bars of rusted silver that kept you a prisoner of the dragons.

In the dungeon where no one could hear you, you cried your heart out without fear of being heard. No one would care anyway and you were sure that all along, they wanted to find some sort of excuse to keep you as a prisoner rather than a guest to their clan.

They got what they wanted in the end and there you were, sleepless nights passing by with little hopes of Jungkook visiting. But you knew that with the days going by and he had yet to come by, he was either still severely injured or he was already sort of healed and the princes denied him access to the dungeon.

Rather than a wall being built around you, they were the thorns that encircled at every angle from your sides, surrounding you everywhere and that, that was an even harder obstacle to escape.

Dealing with others was a little easier but to be kept alone with your thoughts in the dark and deep dungeon was the biggest mistake because you could easily be torn apart all from just you alone.

Everything around you, you became to fear.

Silence, it was all silent. Even more silent than the silent glares and thoughts from the other dragons when you had once nested in one of Seokjin's medicine nests. And with that silence, your thoughts became the thing you feared the most.

"What's the point in giving you food when you're not going to eat?" The head of the guard, prince Jimin, scoffed as he came back for another round to collect the plate of untouched food in his hand. "This can fill our dragons yet we have to waste it on you. The least you can do is eat." And then, he walked away, footsteps draining from your ear with each step he took.

You couldn't eat. Not in that state.

What was the point of being a prisoner anyways? You'd rather rot away than to live on behind bars. It was something you never imagined would happen but things were changing and each day only got worse and worse. If only you lasted one more night without being a complete incompetent, then you would have left the dragon clan on your own will.

But fate really liked playing around with you, didn't it? After all, you were one of the few who didn't deserve a happy ending.

"Y/N?"

You gasped at the familiar sound of heaven, an angel coming to your rescue and the tears fell more and more.

From all that crying you had done the past week, you didn't think you'd have more to spear but there they were, spilling out from your eyes the second you caught sight of Jungkook who stood on the other side of the bars, wearing a white sleeveless v neck shirt and black jeans. The bandages on his left shoulder peeked out and you cried a little more because it was your fault again. Your fault he had gotten hurt.

"Are you alright?" You asked him and Jimin who stood a few feet away, hidden from your focus, blinked in confusion at your first words.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tears welled up in his eyes at the sound of your weak voice. The sight of you made him want to punch the thick walls out of frustration because if he hadn't said anything about that Jinyoung dude, you would have never gotten sent into the dungeons. Yet despite the position you were in, behind bars and haven eaten nothing, your pale complexion and the bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, the first words you asked of him was whether he was alright or not.

"Why are you asking me that?" His voice cracked as he reached out with hands that trembled to hold your face through the bars. You were selfless, the most selfless person he had ever met. Despite hurting on your own, you only cared about him. "You should be worrying about yourself, Y/N," he scolded you, drops of tears falling away as he brushed away your own tears instead. "You should be asking your own self whether you're alright or not and blaming me for putting you here in the first place."

But you shook your head, sniffling. "It isn't your fault. Jinyoung went after you because of me."

Jungkook's face crumbled in pain. "Will you stop blaming yourself for once?" He asked, hiccuping as he went, crying for you. "Will you start caring for your own happiness and health instead of everyone else's? Stop being selfless for once and care about your own self."

"I'm fine."

"You're dying and I can't do anything to help!" His loud voice bellowed against the walls as he punched at the bars, causing you to flinch back. Jungkook's cries followed him throughout the airy corridors of the dungeons, all of it Jimin was hearing.

What was so special about you that they had lost their maknae to? Why had the maknae cared so much to the point where he wouldn't speak to any of them anymore because they kept you locked up behind bars? Jungkook should've known that you were the threat and that they were only trying to protect him. But he was blinded for some reason and wouldn't listen to a word his hyungs were trying to get into him.

And it was all your fault. You changed Jungkook.

"You aren't fine, Y/N, nothing about this is fine," the man went on as he clutched the bars tightly, angry at the fact that he couldn't just rip them apart to reach you. The bars were far too strong for him. It had been built that way for the longest time so that any prisoner that was held in could never escape. If he could rip apart the bars, however, he'd want to hold you in his arms, keep you away from all harm and let you cry against him. But he couldn't do anything and could only watch as you stood there barely able to even stand due to the loss of energy and strength and that was what was killing him the most.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this," he whispered, head leaned against the bars. "I was supposed to give you a home, not lead you to live behind bars. We weren't supposed to switch places."

Jungkook could still remember the first day you approached the silver bars he had been locked up into, a peppy voice that called for him, deeming yourself as the keeper of the dragon. No one had been brave enough to guard a dragon, only you. But perhaps it wasn't just the bravery that held you accountable, perhaps you had taken that job in order to escape the eyes of the villagers, in hopes of finding someone else who would accept you because he was also different.

Jungkook listened, each and every day, to your endless stories. Some of them were of you growing up as that brave child who fell at no one because even though she was a child with no parents, she wasn't going to let that define who she was. Sometimes the stories consisted of adventures outside of your village, your imaginations leading you so far as if you had indeed conquered all of the lands you could reach.

He could still remember those shiny eyes that glowed of a thousand starlights, the beaming smile, the giggles that were music to his ears.

But as he looked at you now, your light dimmed, giving into the darkness, frail and weak, eyes filled with glossy waterfalls waiting for the dam to break down so that it could flood away freely. He reached through the bars again, holding your face with gentle touches as if he was too afraid you'd break under his hold, as if you were made up of some delicate glass. And he cried some more for being the one to cause your smile to vanish.

"I'm so sorry," Jungkook whispered and Jimin could hear how broken his voice was, how Jungkook wished he could do something about it but not having enough power to do so, and his heart ached at just the sound his mate was making.

"One day we'll be happy again," he continued on, "one day we'll find that beautiful smile of yours again and you'll never have to cry again except for the tears of joy."

We.

Jimin's hands balled into a fist, knowing exactly how much his little maknae had fallen and he leaned away from the wall, stepping back and away, leaving. He couldn't hear it any longer. He couldn't bear to hear any more of Jungkook's silent love for you.

"Promise?" You asked of the dragon in front of you.

Jungkook nodded and a few more tears fell. "I promise."

"Eat."

You looked up at the presence of Jimin who knelt down in front of the bars where you sat on the other side, arms hugging your knees due to the coldness of the dungeon.

"Please," he said and your eyes widened, surprised. A part of Jimin wanted to just leave after placing the plate in front of you, he wanted to scoff at his useless plead and not see you for even a second more but the longer he stared, the harder it was to not care about how weak you had looked. There were no tears in your eyes but it looked as if you could topple over and break at any moment. He could see the signs of insomnia, the frail part of your arms where your dress was torn, and the eyes that looked dead. Dead but alive. And for a moment he almost felt bad for what he and the others had done to you.

But then he was reminded again of the reasons as to why you were locked up in the first place and he looked away, sighing with a bit of annoyance.

"Jungkook refuses to eat unless I report back to him that you've eaten and I can't lie to him. He'll know and I can never bear to lie to any of my mates."

Jungkook?

Your eyes fell at the plate of food provided for you. You had no desire to eat despite your empty stomach. You've learned to ignore your growling stomach the past few days but hearing the fact that Jungkook was going to refuse to eat for your sake, your stomach churned.

"You have to eat," Jimin said, "for his sake," and with a bit of hesitation, "and for yours."

When he came back a few hours later, the plate wasn't empty but he could see some clear signs of you haven eaten and left without a word after collecting the plate.

"You better not be lying to me," Jungkook glared at the man in front of him, a serious and firm tone set in his voice.

Jimin sighed and showed him your plate of food to which Jungkook was quick to smile at, only for it to slowly disappear as he stared at the amount that was still left on the plate.

"She didn't eat all of it," he uttered lowly with a bit of disappointment.

Jimin sighed, putting the plate away on an empty table as he began walking off. "You can't expect her to eat everything all at once after going on a fasting for days, Jungkook, that's not how things work."

"But shouldn't she be hungry? Why-"

"If she stuffs herself fully, she'll harm her health even more. She isn't going to be eating much for the time being, her stomach has shrunk."

"Shrunk...?" His voice whispered.

Watching his mate walking away without another word, Jungkook's eyes fell back down to the floor after being reminded that of course Jimin would know. He's starved himself before due to insecurities and the anxieties that ate him up.

A soft sigh left him as he was reminded that once again, he was no help to the ones he cared about.

"Who's Jinyoung?"

"Jinyoung?" You looked away with a bitter taste on your tongue as you said the name. "He was...an admirer."

"Admirer?" Jungkook's face scrunched up with disgust and a bit of anger at that distasteful word.

"He's the captain of the soldiers and, well..sort of found me attractive so he decided to try and win my heart."

"I'm assuming that didn't work out too well on his part?" Jungkook scoffed, wanting to laugh because no one would be worthy enough to win your heart. No one deserved you.

"He couldn't take the hint," you told him, eyes falling distant all of a sudden. "He kind of lusted over me and some days he'd try to follow me into the dungeon when I'd go to meet you but I always refused every advance he'd make. Every time we saw each other, he'd tell me that I should be happy someone wanted me because...you know...no one in the village really liked me."

Upon hearing your words, Jungkook held onto the bars with a tight grip as his jaws clenched tightly. "He has no right to say such a thing," the dragon growled. "I swear, if I see him again, I'll rip him up into pieces for saying such-"

"Jungkook." You touched his hands and that was enough for him to calm down, to remember that he was in front of you, a vulnerable human who needed all the hugs and love in the world.

"Sorry," he coughed a little awkwardly, sitting back down properly. He wondered why that little touch was just enough to have him blushing, why your voice and touch alone was enough to calm his mighty self down.

You giggled a little at the cute dragon in front of you and Jungkook's head shot up, eyes widened before he turned into a grinning sun.

"Keep doing that."

You blinked. "Huh?"

"Keep smiling, Y/N, keep laughing, keep being happy even if it lasts for one second."

"Jungkook..."

His eyes teared up again, throat clogging as he looked into your eyes. "I miss it," he told you, "I miss your smile so damn much. I miss the stories you'd tell me, the little laughs you'd give yourself because of something funny you'd say. I miss you being happy."

You could only stare at him for a second longer before your eyes fell to the floor because the both of you knew that if you were going to be truly happy, you'd have to leave the dungeons first.

"Jungkook," Namjoon's hands balled into fists as he watched the youngest of the seven getting up from the dinner table, "let me ask you something." The maknae paused in his tracks, taking his time as he took a deep breath before turning around to face his leader, asking him silently to go on. "What does that human mean to you? You seem to care more about her these days."

"It's only natural," Jungkook bluntly stated.

"What the hell do you mean it's only natural?" Yoongi growled. "Have you forgotten who we are?"

"We're your mates," Taehyung stressed.

"And she-"

"Isn't your mate."

"I didn't say she was," he glared at Hoseok before staring back down at the floor. "She's my friend, someone I care a lot about. Have you not been hearing anything I've been telling you?" The maknae asked, frustration clear in his tone as he looked up, challenging the others. "She saved my life and you're putting her in the dungeon, the same place I used to reside in yet you ask me why in the world I care so much. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be back here safe in one piece. She risked her own life for my sake, left a world that hated her to find a better place only to be hated on again for no apparent reason. Instead of blaming her for everything, maybe you should look past your stupid jealousy selves and see the truth in this."

And with that, Jungkook stomped away without letting any of them utter another word.

While the rest of them sighed in frustration, Jimin, on the other hand, sat there silently staring into a blank space. He didn't know what to do, but perhaps not everything had been your fault after all.

"Are you okay? You look a little frustrated." You looked at Jungkook with worry filling your face, a little pout resting upon your lips. "Did something happen with your mates?" You worried.

He sat there with his knees bent and a little spread apart, forearms resting against it and hands meeting to hold at the center. "I don't think we'll ever be truly happy again if they don't set you free."

Your heart fell for him, aching at how broken he looked. "I'm sorry."

"No," Jungkook shook his head, sighing, "don't apologize."

"But—"

"I'll fix it one way or another," he said cutting you off. "They're my mates, I won't lose them forever. I'm just angry at them for doing this to you."

"You shouldn't blame them, they don't know-"

"Which is why they should listen to me but they aren't!" He ran a hand against his hair and let out a grunt of frustration. "Sure I'm the maknae and they're older and wiser but there are some things that I know more than them, like being locked up in a dungeon against my will. It's lonely and scary and you've always helped by just being there which is why I try to get permission to come down here but because they resent you for no reason, I can't come here as often as I want to."

You looked at him with eyes of sympathy. Jungkook loved his mates and they loved him, they were made for one another, which was why no matter what feelings you had for Jungkook, you had to keep them away because he had his own soulmates. You couldn't ruin that relationship for them. So you decided that if you were ever set free, you'd leave the mountains and travel on your own for their sake. It'd save their relationship at least, you leaving. After all, the only reason why it had begun to fall apart was because of you.

"Don't get angry at them for too long, Jungkook."

Jimin, who was walking towards your cell after leaving the dinner table, paused in his steps at the sound of your voice and waited. Waited to hear what you were going to say.

"Try to understand them, listen to each other. They have their own reasons for things and if you only see that you're right in this, then it'll only frustrate them even more and you'll end up never resolving this problem. You're both alike in that sense, you're both wrong because of it. Don't think that everything you have to say is right because I'm sure they're hurt as well over the fact that you're refusing to listen to them. Face this challenge with a calm and mature talk and maybe then they'll listen to what you have to say."

"What if they don't listen to me?"

"They'll listen," you were sure of it. "You're mates, Jungkook, and they love you. But you have to listen to them first."

After hearing your words, the head guard took a step back as a small smile curled at the corner of his lips. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps that as soulmates, they should listen to one another before letting anger and jealousy get the best of them.

"Why don't you sleep?"

You looked up at the sound of Jimin's voice and blinked in confusion. Why was he awake in the middle of the night? (you assumed it was the middle of the night since the dungeon was nowhere near a sky that could tell you the time)

"You lay there awake every night," he said notably. "Are you insomniac?"

You sat up from the cold, hard floor with a bit of trouble due to your loss of strength. There wasn't much light in the dungeon, you could only see a little bit of Jimin's face after having adjusted to the dark room. It was lighter at daylight where some of the sun's light passed into the dungeon but the night made it completely dark.

"It's not that I can't sleep," you told the dragon, "it's just...it's scary."

"The nightmares?"

"That and..." You looked at the floor, a little embarrassed for yourself. "I can't sleep without some bit of light," you confessed, "the darkness scares me. It was easier sleeping in one of prince Seokjin's medicine nests because the moon shone some light but here, there are no windows. It's completely dark."

"Oh," Jimin whispered.

The room was silent for a long moment until you heard some footsteps walking away and you looked away disappointedly. Sure Jimin probably hated you but to have someone there to talk to you late at night had helped from thinking about the scary things at night.

You missed the light. So, so much.

Yet it was stripped away from you just like the light in your heart. If only you could have a physical light, if only. Because at least that would keep you a bit of company. The darkness was scary.

Your breathing became a little staggering at the scary thoughts invading your mind and you could feel your tears beginning to fall.

It was scary. So scary.

The thoughts, the darkness, every noise you could hear even if it had only been just the wind.

But then you heard the footsteps again, this time with a flickering light and your head was quick to look towards the source.

You crawled yourself over towards the bars, holding onto it to search for the light. It was just a little but something you wanted so badly.

It grew more and more until you caught sight of Jimin. Jimin who came walking towards you with a candle in his hand.

You watched him curiously, eyes following his every move even until the moment he stood in front of you.

"Will this help?" He asked, crouching down to your eye level with the candle in hand. The sight of your tears made his heart ache. Just a little. "It was the only candle I could find here," he said, looking away from you because he knew that those tears alone would weaken him. Jimin hated tears. "It'll burn away before dawn arrives but hopefully by then you'll be asleep."

"Thank you," you whispered into the silent night, voice a little broken as you sniffled and wiped away your tears. "Thank you so much."

He didn't know why but seeing you like that, hearing your voice, he wanted to take out his keys to unlock the door and pull you into his arms. To keep you from crying, to hold you so that you'd feel safe and secure despite your living environment.

"You shouldn't thank me," Jimin said shamefully, "I was one of the people who brought you here in the first place."

He sat the candle down and stood up, ready to leave you be.

"Even so," he stopped at your voice, "I needed a little bit of light and you gave it to me. So thank you, prince Jimin."

Totally different from what you had ever thought about, Jimin became the person that replaced Jungkook's safe presence.

He brought you a warm blanket and pillow, apologizing for the dungeons not having any beddings mostly because the only prisoners they've had had only been dragons, and he was there to make sure you had eaten. Even if that meant a little. Because a little went a long way and Jimin didn't force you to eat any more than you'd take.

Maybe he understood how it felt. Maybe he knew what it felt like to try and heal through the process of eating again. Whatever his reasons to try and make you feel comfortable in the dungeon, whether it was on his own will or because Jungkook had begged him to, you were nevertheless thankful for every kind gesture you never knew you'd ever receive. Thankful that it was he who had the role of the head guard.

The night became a little less scary with him there. He brought back a new candle each night, spoke to you and you'd make little conversation here and there until you fell asleep. Some part of you felt as if Jimin was there to make sure you'd indeed sleep rather than staying awake all night with thoughts that'd haunt you. His small conversations would keep you away from thinking about anything scary or bad, kept you distracted when night fell upon the clan. Some nights you'd worry because some nights were worse than others. You kept your tears away though, for his sake, and because of the fact that you didn't like crying in front of someone you weren't really used to.

He had a castle to return to, soulmates to sleep with, but kept awake doing his duties. You were probably the only prisoner at the moment and the reason why he stayed away late into the night, only leaving when you finally fell asleep. Some nights you'd pretend to sleep just for his sake, so that he'd be able to head home to his mates a little quicker.

And for every night he stayed up for you, you silently thanked Jimin who became that light source you never knew he'd be.

"Wow," Jungkook looked at you in awe as he sat down in front of the bars, a smile resting upon his face at the sight of you. "You've gained some light since I've gone."

"Have I?" You asked, touching your face gently out of curiosity. There were no mirrors in the dungeon so you had no idea how you looked but took his word for it. Jungkook never lied after all.

"Sorry, by the way," he apologized, head hung in shame as he pouted because he was ashamed he couldn't be there for you as often as he wanted. "You were there for me all the time when I was locked up but I haven't visited for a while."

"That's because I was the keeper of the dragon," you reminded him a little teasingly, "it was my job, Jungkook."

At the lightness in your tone, Jungkook beamed. "Thank goodness," he sighed in relief and his eyes glistened with a few tears but he was quick to blink them away. "Thank goodness I can hear this voice again."

You smiled a little and his lips widened.

"It was Jimin, wasn't it?" You looked at him with a bit of confusion and Jungkook looked away, chuckling a little to himself. "Jimin can't hate someone forever, that's just how he is. He never resents for a long time because his kind heart refuses him to. You can tell with that," he gestured at the blanket and pillow just behind you, "to keep you warm through the night and this," he held up the shortened candle that had melted from the fire the night before, "to keep you from being scared of the darkness."

"Ah.."

"When Namjoon sent you to the dungeons, a part of me was a little relieved because you'd have Jimin watching over you, I knew that he'd eventually come to care at one point or another. Sorry it took so long."

You shook your head, a tight smile on your face. "I'm better than I was, you shouldn't apologize for something you had no control over."

"Either way," Jungkook looked back at you, "I haven't even done anything and Jimin's already starting to care about you. Maybe that's your magic." You cocked your head to the side. "You're easy to like, Y/N, once they start looking past your history and see you for just you. You're easy to like."

To fall in love with, he wanted to say but refused himself to.

It wasn't right.

If only he was able to face the truth, if only he could understand the things he was feeling without feeling any guilt towards himself and the others.

But as Jungkook stood in front of his hyungs a few hours later, minus Jimin who held the responsibility of watching over the prisoners, he was conflicted on what to say.

"What we're worried about is the fact that...you've changed."

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes to try and keep himself calm and situated. He promised you that he'd listen to them, to try and save his relationship before things could get any worse.

"I've changed?" He asked Namjoon, wondering what part of him that they saw had changed.

"Ever since you've come back from the humans, Jungkook," the healer replied, "you've been more distant and worried every day about the human girl."

"I have a right to."

"Perhaps you do," Yoongi nodded though a little hesitant, "perhaps you feel responsible because she saved you."

"Or perhaps you're worried for a completely different reason."

He looked up at Hoseok, brows furrowed. "Why do you think that?"

"We're mates, Jungkook," Taehyung reminded him. "Seven mates. And because there's more than just two in a relationship, we can see and understand when the others are in love with one another. We've gotten used to it and so have you."

Jungkook couldn't deny that. He's seen the way one of them looked at his other hyungs, the soft smiles that would lift upon their faces at the sight of another returning home, the sigh of relief and worry for when one of them got hurt. It was always there, from the first moments they found love within each other. He knew that feeling, seen it since years ago.

"The reason why we're upset is the fact that we see that with you towards the human girl."

He gulped at Namjoon's declaration and a rush of guilt rushed through his body all over again. He was hurting them and as much as he tried to not think about you in such ways, Jungkook couldn't even if he wanted to.

"What's so special about her, Jungkook?" The eldest asked, his eyes filled with pain. "Why a human girl?"

"I know you all don't have good pasts with humans," the youngest acknowledged as his lips pressed into a thin line, nodding slightly. "I know that humans are vile creatures who see us as animals who has no worth but to be a slave. And maybe I would've still thought the same back in that dungeon after getting caught by them but..." his voice trailed off and the memories of your beautiful voice and smile walked into his mind. "When I said that Y/N saved me, I also mean that figuratively."

His voice began to soften but they could hear every word and perhaps that alone had begun to hurt each of their hearts, watching their littlest mate fall for another.

"The dungeon isn't fun, it's dark and scary and so, so lonely. I used to cry silently to myself because I regretted ever leaving without telling anyone, because I missed home, because I missed you guys. But Y/N walked in like a little firefly who gave me a little bit of light, a little bit of hope in freedom again. She'd go on and on about all sorts of stories, sometimes laughing to herself at her own jokes and dumbness. Sometimes I'd think to myself that if it wasn't for her voice and presence, I would have gone crazy staying there in that dungeon all alone without any contact with the outside world. She was the only one brave enough to stay beside a dragon all day long until her duties were over, returning every single time without missing a day."

"When I finally spoke and showed her my appearance, her eyes would be the prettiest stars I had ever witnessed, and her smile would glow of the brightest sun. She'd steal some clothes from her own villagers to keep me warm, stole their medicines in order to treat my wounds, and went against the rules to steal the keys and take me out of the dungeon despite knowing the price to pay was her own life. She took that risk because of me and that's why I brought her here." He looked up at them all, eyes filled with grief and tainted with tears that brimmed at his waterline.

"I brought her here because she never had a home back at that village. Everyone treated her like crap yet when she met me, she treated me as an equal even though she had never received love of any sort. I brought her here because I thought that you'd try and accept her for who she was, human and all, and give her a home she never had from the moment she was born."

You never gave up searching for love, any kind of love. Whether it was family or the love from a another. Despite the unfair treatment you'd get, the rude stares and nasty comments, you kept your head up and stayed being a kind pure soul who always gave back love despite never receiving it. It was something Jungkook always admired about you, the fact that being hurt several times allowed you to never stray away from giving kindness towards others.

You continued smiling for him to keep him from feeling lonely in that dungeon, to keep him smiling even when you wanted to vent all your problems to him and cry until you could cry no more. And then he began to realize that perhaps the smiles you had given him back in your villager's dungeon, they were filled with a broken story, the silent call for freedom and love in return. Silent tears he couldn't see because you hid everything so well.

For at least a day, Jungkook wanted to know how it would feel to see you genuinely smile and laugh and be a happy little girl who loved no matter how much the world hated her for the first time.

A part of the guys still felt rather jealous to hear Jungkook's soft words for you. He began caring a little more for you, sought for your attention, and was always so excited to visit you after his daily hunting patrols. You were a human, something they weren't too fond of due to the bad relations they had in the past. But maybe not everything had been your fault.

You did save their little prince, brought him back to them. They should have at least thanked you but it was their jealousy that drove them away from the gentle dragons they once were. Maybe you weren't at fault for everything but it was your people who captured Jungkook in the first place and had hurt him again.

Yet watching Jungkook in front of them, blinking away his tears so that he didn't have to cry, a part of them felt horrible for the way they treated you.

"Your highnesses!"

Their heads swerved over at the sudden doors to the throne room opening abruptly and a knight ran in rushingly. He knelt in front of Jungkook, a little breathless from running.

"Prince Jimin asked for you to come to the dungeons and wishes for Prince Seokjin's presence as well."

Jungkook's brows furrowed in confusion as he looked back at the eldest, their eyes meeting with the same unspoken question. But if Jimin called for a knight to send both him and Jungkook, then that meant that you were possibly at risk.

His eyes widened and a gasp left his lips. Without any more hesitation, Jungkook ran out the doors before anyone could stop him.

Running to you.

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catofadifferentcolor · 3 years ago

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Revenge of the Sith (2005)

So this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause.

I cannot remember when I first watched the original trilogy - sometime in third or fourth grade, I think, but possibly earlier. I grew up watching Star Trek, and, though I enjoyed Star Wars, I never quite had the same love for it. And then the prequels were announced.

Revenge of the Sith is the first SW movie I have clear memories of seeing for the first time. I was in HS and in the middle of one of the most intense exam weeks of my educational career when it was released... and so I didn't see the movie until some weeks later, after the school year had ended. I didn't anticipate much - TPM disappointed me and, while AotC was a solid move in the right direction, it wasn't enough to have me lining up at midnight for the sequel.

RotS was - and is - the movie that makes the prequels worth it. All of the problems of TPM and growing pains of AotC are bearable because of this movie. It's not perfect by any means (Padme's role largely being reduced to an incubator being one of many things a wilier script writer would have handled better) but close enough that I can't help but love and adore it.

Rewatching it's movie, it's clear that's it's not perfect - every second Padme is on scene is a second wondering where all her brain cells have disappeared to (who honestly agrees to run away with anyone after learning that he's helped to betray the Republic you swore to serve and lead a massacre of his entire order, from the eldest to the babes in arms?) and Dooku's quick death feels disingenuous to a fascinating character - but it's by far the best Star Wars movie of this century. It stands right up there with Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi and, arguably, surpasses of A New Hope with ease.

The pacing is spot on. The dialogue is only occasionally trite and/or clunky. Everything works in a way that the sequel trilogy proves is hard to manage even with all the power of Disney behind you. The battle with General Grievous is everything I wanted from the battle with Jango Fett in AotC. The Revenge of the Fates is the lightsaber battle, and a worthy heir to the Dual of the Fates. Anakin feels less of a whiny teenager than a soldier with valid points - even if he's so mixed up in the head that he manages to betray every one of them by the end. And Obi-Wan continues to be practically perfect in every way.

...I could probably go on about how the older I get, the less I seem to respect Padme as a character. RotS highlights that these types of movies never know what to do with female characters, beginning with the fact she's the only female with a speaking role in this movie and ending with the fact that on her deathbed this supposedly strong, capable, stubborn, passionate politician chooses to ask if her treasonous, child-murdering husband is okay rather then what will happen to her children. (Or maybe she felt, being Obi-Wan, she didn't have to ask if they'd be taken care of. Maybe it was understood. IDK.)

...I could also argue about expecting someone to bring balance to the force and then largely treating someone as if they're incapable of basic tasks is probably not the way to go about doing things. The Council means well, but Anakin's slave upbringing for nine years outside of the Temple always meant he'd have different feelings and reactions to things than anyone else in the Temple. Understandably he has problems with attachment, but no one ever gave him an healthy way to deal with that - and though Obi-Wan obviously tried, his clear attachment to Qui-Gon and grief over losing him likely meant that the one example of healthy cooping mechanisms really wasn't all that healthy.

...Not that it's all the Jedi's fault. Anakin's habit of doing things and then expressing regret - meaningful or not - about them while the body's still cooling is hardly healthy. His inability to take responsibility for his own actions is peculiar for someone who wants so desperately to be recognized for his abilities, but understandable. Hell, the first thing he does as an adult is jump into an ill-advised marriage with Padme, who seems to make every decision in their relationship until she suddenly loses the ability to think at all with her pregnancy.

But all that said, that's why RotS is so powerful - it's a jumble of human problems and human emotions that just happens to be playing in the context of a galactic war. It's why the movie works. (It's why, when it took me three vodka gimlets to make it through TPM, even fast forwarding through the pod race, and one to make it through AotC, today's drink was largely forgotten.)

TPM gave us the setting. AotC gave us the plot. But RotS made us care, and empathize.

#star wars #aadarshinah watches #movie review #revenge of the sith #sw #rots #sw:rots

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gemmaswriting · 4 years ago

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Anidala Fanfiction Recommendations!!

I’ve been asked for a long time for my fanfiction recommendations, so I’ve finally taken the time to compile them. If there are any you love that I missed out (this includes Vaderdala!) leave them as a reply so we can all have a good time reading together.

Writer: Shelivesfree (fanfiction profile) This wonderful girl has some of the most amazing Anidala stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Unfortunately, a lot of them have been hiatus for a while but her Boy Next Door trilogy has two amazing parts completed.

The stories I recommend:

“The Boy Next Door”: “When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.”

“The Girl from Harvard”: “Sequel to ‘The Boy Next Door’ Absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it grow more paranoid. Padme is in her last year of Harvard. Anakin has just started at the University of Chicago. Though they won't admit it, their long-distance relationship is taking it's heavy toll. Will their love prevail or will the distance prove too much for both of them? Sequel to The Boy Next Door. Modern AU.”

“look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide”: ”Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him. Modern AU.”

“I Know Your Type” “Am I dead?" It slips out, accidentally. She turns her head towards me, a confused look on her face and tips her head. "Excuse me?" Flashing her an impish grin, I lean casually against the wall. "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you look like an angel." The look she gives me is far from impressed. "Do you use that with all the girls, or am I just lucky?"

“we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love?” “Rhythmic Gymnast Padme Naberrie has dreamed of being an Olympian since she was five years old. Now, after years and years of training and preparations, she's finally made it to Rio, and nothing is going to stand in the way between her and a gold medal. Except a certain Canadian beach volleyball player, perhaps.”

“Infinite” “ My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

“for a moment” “And, just for a moment, all the worries and concerns that troubled the young couple cease to exist. Fade away to just this. Husband and wife. Asleep. Dreaming of the sweet little life they will soon bring into the world and into their hearts. Set somewhere in ROTS.”

“Procrastination” “Padmé is busy with a new bill she must bring before the next Senate meeting. Her husband has other ideas, it would seem.”

“There’s a million reasons I should give you up” “Padmé struggles to deal with Anakin's frequent departures for weeks, even months, at a time during the Clone Wars. It's in these moments she contemplates the practicality of their marriage. Grief-stricken with loneliness, she stumbles across something she wrote a long time ago... a list of sorts. The find brings about a whole host of emotions she'd rather not deal with.”

“all I need is you” “It was her fault. His pain, his jealousy, his insecurity. It was all her fault. Padme looked up at the beautiful man in front of her, her husband, her Ani, and decided she needed to make him remember. Remind him of how much she loved him. Because no one, no man in the entire galaxy, could take the place of Anakin Skywalker.”

“Her” “A glimpse into the Cosmic Force after Darth Vader's redemption and return to the Light Side. Anakin Skywalker is consumed by guilt and Obi-wan and Yoda are there to appease him. But it's been twenty-four years and all he wants is to see her.”

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Writer: SphinxScribe (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr account @sphinxscribe ) This fantastic writer has many, many alternate takes on the plot of Revenge of the Sith - often allowing our favourite couple to have a happy ending. Their writing captures the world of Star Wars perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Where Catalysts Stand Down” “Palpatine issues Order 66, and Anakin and Padmé flee Coruscant. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

“Viability’s Edge” “Anakin tells Obi-Wan the truth. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

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Writer: Disco Shop Girl (Fanfiction profile) This writer’s take on Anidala is so well written within every story of theirs I have read. They truly capture their dynamic and relationship perfectly.

The stories I recommend:

“Your helmet cracked” “He'd been restrained, forced to watch while her helmet cracked and the Mon Calamari sea water threatened to drown her before his eyes. Now they're free. And alone. Set at the end of the Clone Wars season 4 Water War arc.”

“Order 66-S” “The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.”

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Writer: Rogue Darth Skywalker (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr - @roguedarthskywalker) This wonderful person has been one of the biggest supporters of my own writing for a long time and I value them immensely! They have many delicious Anidala/Vaderdala stories for you to obsess over for hours and hours. I highly recommend following both profiles linked above.

The stories I recommend:

“Pin up Problems” “He hated the nose art. He hated seeing others degrade her other exceptional qualities by depicting her as some pin up girl. He hated thinking about how many other beings across the stars fantasized about her in such a way. At the same time, he can't deny that the art makes her look… hot. He can't deny that the sight turns him on.”

“Letting Go” “It was their custom. Every year on that fateful day, Anakin would make his way to the cemetery with his children and seek out the mausoleum where she rested."

“Far from Perfect” “Darth Vader is dead. Anakin is redeemed and lives on Naboo with Padme and their children. But not all happy endings are perfect.”

“Far from Easy” “Sequel to Far From Perfect. Redeemed Anakin Skywalker tries to make things right with his wife and kids.

“Perfect” “Happy Family style AU post ROTS. Padme wakes up in the middle of the night and ponders the most recent events in her life.”

“A Dangerous Fantasy” “Pure Smut. Padme helps Anakin fulfil a fantasy he has had since they were married- one that involves the Jedi Council Chambers.”

“Untitled” “Anakin and Padme deal with having to tell their young twins they are having another baby.”

“Strictly Professional” “There are times she hates that she has to resort to this- that rather than being in a long term relationship with someone, she chose to instead pay someone for sex. Modern AU.”

“Out of his Depth” “I fought in a war. I commanded legions of soldiers against battle droids. I think I can handle my own four-year-old twins."

“Love and Jealousy” “Anakin gave the binders an experimental tug, testing his chances of escaping. There was none. A light chuckle left his lips after a few moments, letting his head fall back to rest on the chair. What a compromising position for a Jedi Knight to be in. Handcuffed in a respected senator's bedchambers practically naked… oh, how the holonews would rave should the story get out!”

“Against all Odds” “He shouldn't be here. The election was only a few weeks away and the final debate was due in the next few days. There were so many other things he should be doing. He shouldn't be here, in enemy territory wrapped in the arms of the woman his boss despised. Modern AU. Smut.”

“What we Hope is Never Found” “The impending existence of a recording of them together held dangers that went a little deeper than if they were found naked and tangled together in her office or on his cruiser. The physical proof of their relationship would cause an uproar if it were discovered. But she trusted Anakin. Smut.”

“It was Found” “Sequel to What We Hope is Never Found.”

“Things that go bump in the night” “Luke and Leia think there is a ghost in their home. Their parents know better.”

“Preparations” “She couldn't wait to meet their little ones. It hadn't been too long since they learned she was having twins, and as stressful as that idea was at first, she was quickly growing accustomed to the idea of having two perfect little babies. Her husband, however, seemed to be taking it a little worse than her.”

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Writer: Skywalkersamidala (Archive of our Own profile/ Tumblr @markantonys) I absolutely adore the Anidala stories created by this author whether they’re aus or canon! They nail the couple’s dynamic throughout their many wonderful stories.

The stories I recommend:

“Snow Place like Home” “For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.“

“Soulmates R Us” “Anakin works at a toy store, and single-mother-of-twins Padmé is becoming one of the store's best customers.”

“Heirs of Light and Darkness” “After escaping the Jedi purge two years ago made him the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker has at last been captured by the Empire. He expects to be killed, but Lady Padmé Amidala, the imperial heir, has other ideas.”

“Friendly Competition” “Playing Quidditch is awfully difficult when you’re in love with the rival Seeker. Snapshots of Anakin and Padmé’s 7 years at Hogwarts.“

“Perfect” “The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.“

“Nos Cedamus Amori“ “Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.“

“I Do Take Two” “Thirty years after their clandestine wedding on Naboo, Anakin and Padmé decide to finally do the proper wedding ceremony they never got to have, with all their friends and family present.“

“Flat Tire” “Who knew something as simple as getting a flat tire could change the entire course of your life?“

“Strays” “Anakin had always had a penchant for taking in strays.”

“Five weddings and a funeral” “Padmé's feeling gloomy about her perpetual singleness, but everything changes when she meets an attractive stranger at her sister's wedding.“

“Pipe Dream” “Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.“

“Birthdays and Birth days” “Anakin gets a birthday surprise — two of them, in fact.“

“Spouses with Benefits” “Anakin and Padmé wake up after a wild night in Vegas and discover they accidentally got married—and that Ahsoka posted about it all over social media, so now every single person they know is texting and calling them to offer congratulations. They decide to save face by pretending the marriage was totally 100% intentional and not a drunk mistake at all, keeping up the charade for six months, and then quietly getting divorced. But a lot can change in six months…“

“Two Halves Make a Whole” “Anakin is the single dad of Luke. Padme is the single mom of Leia. Luke and Leia meet in kindergarten and become best friends. The rest is history.“

“Home” “In which "Darth Vader" is no more than Anakin's playtime alter ego (happy Skywalker family AU)“

“Someday” “At age fourteen, Padme receives a marriage proposal from the nine-year-old boy next door and tells him to ask her again when she's thirty. Surely he'll have forgotten all about it by then.“

“Across the Centuries” “They meet each other in every century, but something always goes wrong before they can make it to happily-ever-after.”

“Madam President” “Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.“

“Scars” “How do Anakin and Padmé go from "I love you" to "I do"? Missing scene from Attack of the Clones.”

“The Bet” “Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...”

“Three” “His and Padmé’s first wedding anniversary isn’t going nearly as well as Anakin had hoped it would. Until, suddenly, it’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.“

“The Anakin Disaster” “Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.“

“Will You Fake Marry Me?” “Anakin's boss may or may not have accidentally given her family the impression that she's engaged to him. Anakin may or may not be pleased about the situation”

“Aggressive Negotiations” “Empress Amidala invites Lord Vader to her private rooms to persuade him to form an alliance with the Empire. Her methods are very effective.”

“Troubling Implications” “Perhaps he hated himself for it—Padmé thought he probably did—but he came that night (several times, in fact). And the night after that, and the next one, and the next, until it became a habit that neither of them seemed especially inclined to break. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations")

“Imperial Obligations” “Padmé's advisors suggest that she get rid of Vader and make a politically advantageous marriage. The Empress is less than pleased. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations" and "Troubling Implications")”

“Welcome Home” “Anakin Skywalker closes his eyes on the face of his son. When he opens them again, he is in Naboo, and someone is waiting for him.“

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Writer: Shawn30 (Fanfiction profile) The one, the only, the deservedly famous! I think every Anidala fan is aware of this f a n t a s t i c writer’s work. Deliciously smutty. Unbelievably well written. Unfortunately, many of their works have been left uncompleted for years but the stories are still worth reading!

“Whisper” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but can also whither your soul and breed doubt in your heart. AP angsty erotica.”

“The Ties that Bind” “Given a brief period of time off during the Clone Wars, Padmé and Anakin visit her family at the Lake Country estate on Naboo. A family that still doesn't know they are married, although they are about to find out. Complete.”

“The Light and the Dark” “Chapter 1 in the Hearts and Souls series. An unexpected Separatist attack 'accidentally' reunites two star-crossed lovers, giving them a brief moment of peace at a time of war. Complete.”

“Shadows of Winter” “Chapter 2 in the Hearts and Souls series. With six days to spend together celebrating their two year anniversary, Anakin and Padme travel separately to a remote planet in the Hoth system. Romance, passion, and danger await them. Complete.”

“Beloved” “Chapter 3 in the "Hearts and Souls" series. When faced with the most horrific news imaginable, Padme's utter desperation forces her to turn to Obi-Wan and even Chancellor Palpatine for help. Her greatest personal challenge awaits... Complete”

“Paradise” “The sequel to "Beloved." Following Padme's daring rescue of her husband, the Skywalker's return to Naboo for eight days to heal, unwind, spend time with family, and deal with their connection to the Dark Side of the Force.”

“Salvation” “After facing his moment of truth, Anakin and Padmé must finally deal with the consequences. Obi-Wan reveals a startling discovery. Complete”

“Scandalous” “The sequel to Salvation. On the eve of Padmé Skywalker's official ascension to the role of Vice Chair of the Republic, Anakin steals her away for a wild vacation to Cloud City. Complete.”

“Sacred” “Chapter 2. Ahsoka and Jo'Seth grow closer. Padme's trip to the Jedi Temple on Republic business turns a bit more adventurous. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a heart to heart talk about moving forward.”

“Belonging” “A private afternoon lunch to catch up with an old friend during the Clone Wars reveals a great deal to ObiWan Kenobi. AP”

“Before the Seasons Change” “With the Darth Sidious finally defeated and the Clone Wars ended, Anakin and Padme consider what comes next in their lives. Anakin/Padme”

“Amor Vincit Omnia” “AU. After a three and a half year separation Vice Chair Amidala and Jedi Master Skywalker have some unfinished business as the Clone Wars have finally ended and Palpatine is dead.”

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If there’s any stories I missed, let me know!

#Anidala #anidala fanfiction #Vaderdala #vaderdala fanfiction #Anidala fic rec

214 notes · View notes

imaginaryari · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome to the Show

Part One

The prisoner looks up as her least favorite cop comes into the interrogation room. Officer Warren has awards for rounding up the enhanced, people like Silver. He walks and talks like a man the people respect and fear. Talks to the enhanced like they’re close on first name bases and revels in the fact that he put them in their cells. What she would give to lay one finger on him. That’s all she needs. Unfortunately, her hands are gloved and bound because officer Warren also knows that.

“To what do I owe the pleasure officer.” She asks.

“How would you like to get out here?”

It’s a trap. Silver knows this. The enhanced don’t get second chances especially not from officer Warren.

“Wasn’t I supposed to rot in here? Just as you said?” Silver asks.

Officer Warren gives her a sick grin. “I thought you would be interested in parole but if you aren’t...there’s plenty of you in here. “

The promise of seeing the outside world again would sway anyone.

“How can I trust you?”

Officer Warren beckons one of the guards. “Remove her cuffs.”

“Sir?”

“Now, please.” Warren orders.

Silver immediately rubs her wrists when the cuffs click open. The relief is almost overwhelming. She quickly reminds herself not to do anything stupid, no matter how satisfying it would be to knock Warren’s lights out.

“There’s a group of enhanced kids going around and robbing people. Messing with their heads. You’re fond of doing that so I thought this would be the perfect way to end your sentence.” Warren had said as he escorted her out.

Silver squints. Nothing about that story adds up. Robbing civilians while common isn’t a team effort especially if you can mess with minds and memory. A group would actually draw more attention and a tight knit one wouldn’t take the risk of losing a member to officials.

Unless your Silver’s ex. Hm. Things are starting to make sense.

“You’ve tried to catch them before.” Silver states.

Warren doesn’t even look ashamed admitting his failure. “Physical powers are one thing. Mental ones are harder. But from my experience you can catch ‘em with a little trust.” He begins to walk away, leaving Silver at the gates. “You have three weeks.”

—

It’s no fancy hotel, barely a motel, but it’s a place and it’s furnished. Officer Warren had said it was hers for as long as it took her to finish her task. Silver won’t complain, before she was arrested, she was constantly couch surfing. Never out staying her welcome and never spending too long on the streets. She had made friends this way but contacting them was out of the question. Getting caught means getting blacklisted. A means of protecting themselves. Well, Silver had been thrown under the bus. Semantics. She won’t see them again and hopefully they’re doing okay.

She shakes her head, never mind that. She has a job to do and extraordinarily little to go on.

The neighborhood is different. She didn’t expect it to be quite the same after lock-up but the changes are more than jarring. New buildings going up, less of the spots her old friends used to hang. Silver is so sure the neighborhood has been purged of the enhanced until she decides to hit up one of the cafés. She stares at it; upset she can’t remember what it used to be and then enters reading the weirdly named drinks on the menu.

“Are you new around here?” another patron asks.

“Not exactly,” Silver says with a shrug, eyeing the stranger. He’s handsome even if he looks like he should have taken a sip of his drink before speaking. The bags under his eyes scream exhaustion but he still sounds awake. And happy about it. “It’s just a while since I’ve been round here.”

“Ah, try the mint hot chocolate. It’s a crowd favorite.”

“Is that what you’re having?”

He chuckles. “No…this is way too caffeinated for the masses.”

“Is the inevitable crash worth it?” She asks.

“Always.” He says as Silver is called next to order. “See you around.” The stranger says exiting. She thinks about the encounter for hours afterwards. The enhanced were still around even if they were muted.

—

She finds what she’s looking for the next day, right before the sun sets. It’s a large tent set up in a nearby park. Big enough to draw attention but lacking the actual necessities to pass as a real circus. No animal trailers, no confection stands. To anyone paying attention there’s no possible way it could have been set up so quickly. Definitely the work of the enhanced.

Civilians flock to the tent with the promise of entertainment. Silver by-passes the line and taps a potential viewer on their shoulder. “You don’t really want to see this show, right? I can take that ticket off you.” The man blinks and then hands over his ticket. Silver quickly takes it and makes her way to her seat.

The spotlight lowers, illuminating what has to be the ringleader. He’s barely dressed for the occasion. Top hat donned but instead of a blaring red jacket, a black T-shirt with a tuxedo print and black jeans contrasting nicely with white sneakers.

“Hello everyone. Welcome to your wildest dreams. I’ll be your guide. Whenever you need me you can shout More!” Silver snorts at the corny introduction but still applauds with the crowd. It takes a moment but she recognizes him. The man from the café with the over caffeinated drink. Interesting. So far he’s just the host, maybe the leader of this whole operation, but Silver can’t place an ability just yet.

“Please give a round of applause to our first act, Mirage, master of illusion.”

Silver is willing to bet he’s the one responsible for the tent. His set isn’t too extravagant; he just has smoke and card tricks. It’s what he does with them that counts. Shifting the smoke to look like a bird that soars over the crowd. It lands ever so gently on the empty seat in front of one of the viewers. The spotlight shifts to them, a young boy, and he offers a nervous smile, not prepared for the attention. The guest looks to Mirage who gives a cocky smile. “Blow it away.” He instructs through his mic. With a shrug he does. The smoke dissipates to reveal a real bird. A stark white dove. The young boy reaches for it face lit up in wonder, but it takes off landing right on Mirages shoulder. He pets it to prove its real and the dove seems to love it. However, it then dissipates into smoke after Mirage blows on it. That confirms it for Silver, the dude simply makes illusions.

“I need a volunteer for my next trick.” Mirage says.

He and More look around at the audience and More locks eyes with Silver. There’s a connection, a shock of understanding, and something else she can’t quite place before he says, “You, cutie with the hood. Would you like to help Mirage?”

Silver nods unable to break eye contact.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just a simple card trick.” Mirage says, a deck of cards pulled from his pockets. Silver keeps her head down and her hood on as she walks into the ring. She wasn’t supposed to draw attention. More finally backs away giving Mirage the stage.

It is a simple card trick, with a lot of flourish. Silver selects a card, memorizes it, puts it back in the deck. Mirage is skilled making the cards seem to dance, shuffling and tossing them even pulling some from behind Silver. Sleight of hand can be learned, however,

“Is this your card?”

“It sure looks like it!” Silver says, and the audience applauds. Her choice in words don’t go unnoticed by Mirage. He smiles, like he just learned a juicy secret and gestures for Silver to return to her seat.

More passes her on his way back to the stage and gives her a similar smile to Mirage’s. She can’t help but feel she shouldn’t have done that.

“Our next act goes by Charlie. He doesn’t say much but he’s loads of fun!”

Silver immediately understands how the next act earned his name. Charlie dances out, encompassing Chaplin’s energy. He dons a similar top hat to More, and shirt except his is white instead. More comments on this with a laugh. “Clearly one of us has to change!” As corny as Silver finds More, she can’t say she’s not amused. Charlie looks More up and down, and then gets into a stance. He’s posed like a batter on home base and leans back and forth on his toes. He swings and More ducks, his top hat flying across the ring as if a real bat had hit it. The trick ears them impressed gasps and amused giggles from the audience. From Silver it earns a disbelieving stare. She’s never seen an enhanced like Charlie yet.

Charlie continues, his set like any traditional mime. Tripping over objects that aren’t there, pushing invisible walls, overexaggerating his facial expressions. Except Silver thinks, knows, he isn’t. There is a wall the audience can’t see. Silver can’t prove it, and wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining Charlie to officer Warren.

“Give it up for Charlie everyone!” More says shaking Silver from her thoughts. Charlie leaves the stage with the same comedic swagger and a wave.

“Now our next act is unfortunately our last. But we always go out with a bang! Please welcome to the ring, Star!”

With the snap of More’s fingers the lights go out. Another snap and they’re back, along with a woman sitting on a trapeze. She’s beyond beautiful, it could be the lighting, or the slight shimmer she has, but she’s captivating all the same. Her hair is pulled into two puffs and her smile dazzles the audience. Silver notes that there is no apparent netting beneath her, that should be concerning.

The music starts, a haunting melody punctuated by a bass that Silver feels in her chest. Star is flying above the audience on her trapeze. She hangs by her legs and lets her arms hang. If Silver focuses, she can see what looks like dust, her charisma spills off of her, entrancing the audience. She makes another mental note, three out of four isn’t bad. Maybe she wrong about him being enhanced. He could just be the fall guy if this all goes to shit. Authorities like Warren wouldn’t keep a powerless civilian. It’s smart. The doubt lingers. She knows what she felt.

Silver almost misses the end. Stars trapeze returns to the ring and she waves before letting go and falling to the ground. The audience gasps bracing for an impact that never comes. Star vanishes in a puff of smoke that settles all over the ring. The applause is stuttered out, the crowd is impressed and worried.

When the smoke clears the applause picks back up as all the performers are safe, taking their bows.

“Thank you all for coming!” More says. The lights go out. When they come back on the group is gone. Well, that’s one way to end things.

“Like the show?” A voice comes up from behind Silver. She’s just as dazzling up close and silver can see how she captivates the audience. The charisma wisps around her like smoke.

“Sure did. Wasn’t expecting to be part of it though.”

“Yeah, More can be a bit impulsive,” Star says apologetically. She steps closer to whisper. “But his guess was right! You are like us.”

“All of you? Special?”

“Yup!”

“What gave me away?”

“You didn’t immediately fall for my charm.”

“...really?”

“That and More caught you using your gift to get a ticket.”

“Also caught her struggling to order at the café,” More says rounding on them. “We should stop meeting like this.”

#mine #short story #circus story #writing #a story in 3 parts #its rough idc

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howtoeatworms · 4 years ago

Text

Fairy Tail: The Celestial Journey

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

It’s been one month since the war with tartaros. Magnolia has been busy rebuilding and with help from the generous amount of jewel the king has given to all those affected, almost a quarter of the town has been rebuilt.

The guild on the other hand was rebuilt in under five days thanks to the insane workload Erza forced on everyone. The craziest thing wasn’t even that. The master thought of disbanding the guild, the idea almost gave me a heart attack, But I’m glad Master changed his mind after he realized how sad everyone would be if that happened.

Everyone seems to be going back to their daily routines but some wounds are too deep to heal. It’s just not the same even now. But I’m sure things will get better soon.

I love you mama. I will talk again soon.

Lucy then put the finishing touches on the letter and put it away for safekeeping inside one of her top cabinets opposite her bed.

After having a nice warm shower Lucy was having a hard time deciding what to wear.

“I know, He can help me. Open! Gate of the little dog! Plue!” Lucy chanted as she pointed her key in the air.

In a puff of smoke what looked like to be a short, carrot nosed dog puffed into existence.

“Hmm. I haven’t worn this one in a long time, what do you think Plue?” She asked her little celestial spirit. The small little creature walked over to over a dozen outfits sitting on her bed and pointed to a blue and white outfit.

Lucy looked at the outfit Plue had chosen and gave him a big hug saying; “I knew you could help me. Thank you Plue.” Shortly after in another puff of smoke the spirit was gone.

Lucy was walking down the road to the newly rebuilt guild hall wearing a blue shirt, a short, white skirt, long brown leggings and a black sleeve with her hair tied into a long ponytail.

Before she knew it Lucy was already at the guild hall. She pushed the doors open to find the usual scenes. People drinking merrily, some checking the request board and fiends chatting.

Lucy went to sit down at an empty table right near the entrance. She smiled at all the commotion around her. Thinking of better times.

“Oh Lucy! It’s so nice to see you at the guild again. You haven’t been here for weeks.” Mirajane said as she walked over to lucy’s table.

“Yeah, it’s good to be back.” Lucy murmured looking down at the table.

“Is there anything I can order for you, Lucy?” Mirajane asked.

Lucy murmured “No thanks, mira.”

“Well, if you need anything just call.” Mirajane said as she walked off to serve another person.

Lucy looked around the guild for Natsu and Happy hoping that they could go on a mission together.

“It’s just been so long.” She said to herself. Suddenly, something caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

“Erza! We’ve been waiting 30 minutes for our beer and it’s still not here! You’re a worse waitress than Kinana!” Wakaba shouted in a semi drunken state.

“Uh, bud I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Macao replied to his long-time friend.

Just hearing the remarks by Wakaba, Erza rushed over to the table where he was seated, and like a tiger killing its prey Erza instantly jumped Wakaba.

“If it’s alcohol you want then it’s alcohol you’ll get!” Erza said as she started to force down a whole barrel of alcohol down his throat.

Lucy watched on in confusion and worry, glad to be sitting a few tables back.

“Erza being a waitress is a pretty scary thing.” Lucy nervously thought to herself.

Getting tired of sitting around Lucy got up from her seat and walked over to the request board.

“Even if I can’t go on missions with Natsu and Happy, I still need to pay rent.”

Lucy scanned the request board looking for a job suitable for both herself and her spirits. Unfortunately, she could only find dangerous jobs that would require a three-person team.

Suddenly a familiar flying, blue cat flew into the guild hall and grabbed a handful of flyers.

Lucy looked up above in surprise. “Happy it’s you! I haven’t seen you and Natsu in ages. How has he been?”

Happy looked down to see Lucy staring up at him. “I can’t talk now, Lucy! Got work to do!”

Lucy murmured, looking at the floor. “Of course, you do.”

Hours later, Lucy was working on the finishing touches on another two pages of her novel. Feeling tired, she stretched her arms and decided it was time to go to bed.

Lucy signed, lying in bed. “I spent a whole day at the guild and I didn’t even get a single job, and Rent is coming up soon too. Maybe tomorrow I might find something.”

As Lucy slept in her bed, a dream started to form in her mind.

“Puny human, no mortal can stand up to the might of the four Celestial Gods.”

“I don’t care! I need to do this so I can save my family.”

“Draco! Deal with this pest for me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

A hulking monster appeared as if out of nowhere, standing down Natsu.

“So, you’re the Celestial god everyone’s been talking about, huh?” Natsu said in a sarcastic tone.

“Natsu! Get away, you’ll die!” Lucy screamed at the top of her lungs.

The creature simply attacked, paying no attention to Lucy’s words.

“Celestial God Dragon… Roar!”

In a split second a wave of fire that felt as hot as the sun engulfed Natsu, and a split second later there was nothing left but ash.

Suddenly Lucy shot awake, she looked around, realizing she was safe in her own bed.

“It was just a dream, then?”

Lucy realized her body was shaking in fear, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Natsu…”

Lucy was sitting by the bar, drinking a coffee to try to keep herself awake. She didn’t get much sleep after she awoke from her nightmare.

“Oi Lucy! Watcha doing?” Natsu said as he draped his arm around lucy’s neck and chest, a little too close for comfort.

Lucy turned around and saw Natsu. “Natsu, it’s been so long. What have you been doing?”

Natsu looked Lucy in her eyes and said; “Oh nothing! Just missions and stuff. I need to get stronger and stronger!”

Lucy’s face lit up, and an idea popped into her head. “Since you’re here, how about we go on a mission together?”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Happy! Find a flyer for Lucy and us.” Natsu yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Aye sir!” Happy replied.

A large shard of ice suddenly shot through the air and hit Natsu in the head.

“What the hell was that?” Natsu yelled.

“Hey, flame brain! Leave a few jobs for the rest of us will ya!” Gray yelled.

“Huh?” Natsu grunted.

“You’re taking all the damn jobs in the guild, soon enough there won’t be any left.” Gray replied.

Natsu jumped up from his seat and yelled; “Ya got a problem with that, popsicle man!”

Gray was starting to get visibly annoyed at Natsu’s ignorance. “You know I do, weren’t you listening, dumbass.”

Natsu then suddenly punched Gray and the force of the impact destroyed a table.

“Oh, it’s on now, Natsu!” Gray yelled.

Soon enough the entire guild was their battleground, getting other wizards caught up in their brawl.

Lucy looked at them both and murmured; “They never learn, do they?”

“I feel so tired.” Lucy said as she started to yawn. “I think I’ll just rest here for a bit, Mira.”

“Don’t sleep too long.” Mira replied.

Lucy started to drift off to sleep, the guild’s noise acting as a lullaby to her.

Lucy suddenly found herself in a very familiar place. It was her father’s old mansion. She started to stroll through the lovely garden out front when suddenly she was pulled away and dragged into a terrible memory.

It was raining.

Everyone was dressed in black.

Suddenly, Lucy knew what the memory was.

It was her mother’s funeral. When Lucy looked around, she realized she was her child like self again. Small and defenseless. The wails of pain and agony were a chorus of tears Lucy wished she never had to remember again.

Then, suddenly, the dream changed. Lucy was standing in shallow water, now an adult again.

“Fix the keys… the land of the spirits.”

Lucy heard a familiar voice.

“Who are you? Why do you sound like my…”?

A figure appeared in the distance. Lucy ran to it. It was Layla.

“Mum?” Lucy murmured.

The figure turned its head to reveal a half rotting corpse, a small smile etched on its face.

“AAAHHH!!”

Lucy suddenly shot awake and her scream stopped the guild, as if everyone was frozen.

Natsu and Gray stopped fighting, Erza stopped eating her cake, all to look at Lucy.

Natsu ran over to Lucy as fast as he could, with Happy flying behind him, he ran over to the stool Lucy was sitting on.

“Mama?” Lucy said as she looked at Natsu, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oi Lucy! Are you alright?” Natsu asked, shocked at her scream.

Lucy looked at Natsu and Happy.

She murmured; “I’m fine, I just… had a dream.

“You had us all worried sick. Are you sure you’ll alright?” Natsu questioned.

“I’m fine, really I am.” Lucy said.

Happy was floating above Lucy’s head. “Was it about tasty fish?”

Lucy slightly laughed. “No happy, it’s not about tasty fish.”

“Oh! I betcha it was about Fighting.” Natsu yelled.

“No, fish!” happy replied.

“Fighting!”

“Fish!”

Lucy walked over to master, who was sitting on one of the tables nearby.

“I’m sorry master. I’m sorry everyone. I didn’t mean to worry you all.” Lucy said sadly.

Makarov looked at Lucy with a worried look.

“There’s no need to worry, my child. We all have bad days, but the important thing is to always remember that tomorrow will be better. So, keep your head held high, for that is the Fairy Tail way.” Makarov said.

Lucy looked at the ground, not able to look master in the face. Whether that was out of shame or cowardice she didn’t know.

Moments after Makarov’s talk the guild started to liven up again, becoming its old rowdy self.

“I think I need to go home.” Lucy said.

Makarov watched Lucy walk out of the guild with concern plastered on his face. Lucy looked like she was in a haze.

Lucy barely made it home to her apartment. Walking home in a daze.

As soon Lucy entered her home, she started to undress.

“I need a hot shower… I’ll fell bet…”

She suddenly collapsed on the floor.

Lucy awoke in the same void of shallow water as before. She saw the same thing parading around as her mother.

“Who are you? Answer me! Lucy shouted nervously at the figure.

The figure moved and as it turned its head, Lucy anticipated the horrific figure from earlier. But it never came. All she saw was the beautiful face of her mother.

“Lucy, I have not seen you in years. You have grown so much since I last saw you.” Layla said.

“I don’t understand any of this, what’s going on?” Lucy asked her mother.

Layla looked at Lucy with sadness on her face.

I have been trying to contact you, I have a mission for you, a way to save Aquarius.

Lucy was shocked, she couldn’t believe what she heard.

“Let me explain, my daughter.” Layla said.

“In the northern continent, in ancient times a meteor hit and devastated the landscape, however since that day, that place has become a wellspring of power for celestial spirit wizards. Go to the celestial steppe and you will find a blacksmith that can fix any key, even celestial keys.” Layla Stated.

Lucy tried to run closer to her mother but no matter how close she got Layla would always be out of reach. “How do you know all this? Can I even trust you?”

Layla looked at her daughter with sad eyes.

“Of course, you can trust me, I’m your mother. All will be explained soon, just know that I love you, lucky Lucy.” Layla smiled and then disappeared.

Lucy woke up from her dream, determined to make it a reality.

“I’ll be with you soon, Aquarius. Just hold on a little more.” Said Lucy.

The next day Happy and Natsu were standing by the request board in the guild. They had found the perfect job for Lucy.

“I’m sure Lucy would loooove this one!” Happy yelled, with the flyer in his paws.

“I wouldn’t miss seeing Lucy looking like that for the world.” Natsu said as he grinned mischievously.

Natsu ran out the guild’s doors as fast as he could with Happy flying not far too behind.

“Hey Lucy! Me and Happy found a job that you’d really like. It pays well.” Natsu Yelled outside Lucy’s apartment window. The flyer moving in the wind.

There was a silence for a moment.

“Is Lucy not home?” happy asked.

“Nah, she’s just ignoring me. Watch.” Natsu said as he jumped from the ground to the window sill outside Lucy’s window.

Natsu pulled the wooden frame up and hoped inside, with happy flying in after him.

“She’s not here.” Said Happy, looking around.

“Well, she’s gotta be. Let’s have a look around.” Natsu told Happy.

“She’s not in here.” Happy said as he lifted up the lid for a cookie jar.

Natsu grinned. “I know where you are. I’m coming in!” Natsu ripped the shower curtain off its rod expecting to see a naked Lucy.

“Huh, she’s not even here?”

Happy flew right into Natsu’s arms with tears in his eyes. “I looked around everywhere and Lucy isn’t here. Is she okay?”

“I dunno, bud.” Natsu replied. “But something is wrong.”

“Master!”

Natsu burst through the guild hall as loud as a bull and ran up to Makarov, who was sitting on the bar top.

“What is it my boy.” Makarov asked.

Everyone looked at Natsu in confusion. Breathing heavily from running to the guild, Natsu and Happy were trying to regain their breath. “It’s…Lucy…she’s… gone!”

“Hmm, what do you mean by that Natsu.” Makarov said.

“Lucy was here and then she was gone and I can’t find her anywhere.” Natsu said quickly, panicking.

“Calm down first Natsu.” Erza replied, who was standing to the right of Makarov.

After waiting a minute for Natsu to catch his breath, he finally spoke;

“I went to Lucy’s place to tell her me and Happy had a job for her to do, But I couldn’t find her anywhere. Then we looked around Magnola hoping to find her scent, but nothing. It’s like she just disappeared.”

“Well, this is troubling.” The master said.

“This is not like Lucy at all. She can be clumsy but she wouldn’t just leave like that.” Erza said.

“Could this be an enemy targeting Lucy?” Juvia chimed in.

“It’s a possibility. After what we went through fighting Tartaros I wouldn’t be shocked if someone wanted revenge.” Gray pondered.

For a moment Makarov closed his eyes and meditated on the news.

“We’ll send out a search party to look for Lucy. Natsu, Gray, Erza, Juvia and Wendy, you all will form a search party and look for Lucy. Also, we will use your telepathy, Warren to try and locate her as well.” Master Makarov announced.

Natsu was grinding his teeth and had his fists clenched, an aura of anger surrounding him.

“Don’t worry Lucy, we’ll get you back for sure. You can count on it.”

It was one whole week after Lucy disappeared and everyone was low on spirits. The guild was as busy as ever, but it had a tinge of sadness in the air.

One whole week of searching all over Fiore and nothing showed up, not even a single hint.

Suddenly a strange, fat woman walked in the guild hall wearing Lucy’s old outfits with a wagon filled with boxes of clothes and other items.

“Isn’t that the landlady Lucy rented from?” Gray asked, pointing to the guild’s doors.

“The Landlady, why would she be here? Erza questioned.

“Is this the place where Lucy Heartfilia works?” The woman yelled.

“Yes, why?” Gray Asked.

“That brat went up and left, not even paying the rent she owes me, she left all her crap at my apartment too, So I’m dumping it here.” The woman ranted.

Natsu walked up to the landlady, looking at her with disgust. “Lucy always paid her rent on time. She always panicked about getting kicked out. This isn’t like her.”

“Well, your friend doesn’t give a crap anymore, that’s for sure.” The landlady said as she pushed all of Lucy’s belongings off the wagon and onto the floor.

Natsu stood there, clenching his fists in anger.

As the landlady started to walk out the door, she threw a letter on the ground.

“Oh, and she left this too.”

“A letter?” Natsu said as he picked it up and opened it.

Natsu couldn’t believe what he read. His hands started to shake.

“Natsu, please read aloud the letter, for all of us.” Erza said.

Dear Natsu.

“It saddens me to say this but, I’m leaving on a journey, one that is more important to me than you could ever imagine. I don’t know how long I will be gone; it could be a month or it could be a year or two.

I wish I could have stayed in the guild longer, but don’t worry, I will always be in your hearts and I will always be a member of Fairy Tail.

If you’re reading this, Natsu, then it means that I have already crossed the borders of Fiore. I will be sending this letter to my apartment, so if you ever break in be sure to read it.

Sincerely,

Lucy.

A horse drawn carriage pulled up to a stop on near the edge of a mountain. The driver rubbing his cold hands together to try to heat them.

“I’m sorry miss, but this is as far as I can take you. The blizzard is just too strong.”

A slender, young woman jumped out of the carriage and said; “It’s okay, thank you for taking me this far.” She threw a bag filled with jewel to the driver.

“Nice doing business with ya!” The driver said as he directed his horse the way they came.

Lucy fixed her scarf closer to her neck for warmth. She looked off over into the distance, everything was a flurry of white.

“I’ve finally made it to the northern continent. It looks like my journey starts now.”

#fairy tail: the celestial journey #the celestial journey #fanfic #fairy tail fanfic #nalu #fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #chapter 1 #chapter 1: The Journey Begins #juvia lockser #gray fullbuster

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catthegreat123 · 3 years ago

Text

From life to death, from the last to the first

In the beginning there was only yesterday, ruled by fifteen gods.

These gods grew in strength and even more with the want to create.

So the first Ą̸̡̨̛̭͎̲̪͔̜͖̰̱̜̘͇̹͚͓͍͚̼̗̦̯̬̞͔͓̣̘͖̥̘̱̩̯̃̋̏̉̔͋͋̒̀͛̑̽͒̌̄̐̀̇͊̍̓̊́̽͌̒͗̇̒̈̅͘̚͘͝͠͠͝ͅl̷̨̛̜̺͙̤̘͆͑̆̈̇̃̊̀̽͂̔̀͑̎͆̔̀̅̂͂̌̉͒͆͗̍̆̋͊̚̕̕̕͘ͅl̵̨̛̛̦͍̥̅̈̓͒̐̎̾̅͂̌̃̊͆̅̌̊̉̔́̆͊̓͐͆̀͒̀̓̅͛̒̋͛͆͘̕̚̚͘͠͠m̴̛̲̟̳̪̱̻̰̞̪̲̯̺̉̂̔̍͑̌̈́̓̽̉̾̀̌͐̍͑́͊̾͊̈́̇̈̏͌̅͊͘̕͝͝͝o̷̧̧̡̧̢͖̤̹̩̼͉̩̭̾̌̒̉̀̾̅̐́́̏̓͌̍̑̓́̈́͛̑͒̓͊̓̂̔̕͘͜͝͠͠ẗ̷̡̢̜̬̺̮͕̬͖̹͎̪͓͉̳̳̮͕́̈́͋̇̚̚͜h̷̛̥̖̬̜̘̼͎̣̟͚̯͙͉̱̥̦̥̭̀̌͑̈́͛̐͗̈́̕͜͝͝ͅe̶̢̢̢̛͇̰̟̦̦͎̟̪̱̭̘̹͕̫͈̜̮͈̰̞̬͊̒̄̈̉̋̋̅̔̉̅̊̈́̎̀͐̌͛͋͛͗̑͌̂̈̊̎̓̆͗̃͂̽̍̕̕̚͝͝͠͝͠͝ŗ̵̧̢̨̧̡͙̥̼̯̣̭͕̙͖̗͉̣͙̫̫̜͕͍̜̟̣̻̪̱̘͕̗̰̦̜̮̝͖̞̖͇͈̤͔̻͊̌̓̂͜ͅͅͅs̸̨̧͓͈̳̩͚̑͌̋̆̑͋̈́͂̈́̀̾̒͑͘̕ were created.

They breathed life into a distorted growing world, a vast landmass emerging in their wake. The fifteen gods who created land and sea.

The Ą̸̡̨̛̭͎̲̪͔̜͖̰̱̜̘͇̹͚͓͍͚̼̗̦̯̬̞͔͓̣̘͖̥̘̱̩̯̃̋̏̉̔͋͋̒̀͛̑̽͒̌̄̐̀̇͊̍̓̊́̽͌̒͗̇̒̈̅͘̚͘͝͠͠͝ͅl̷̨̛̜̺͙̤̘͆͑̆̈̇̃̊̀̽͂̔̀͑̎͆̔̀̅̂͂̌̉͒͆͗̍̆̋͊̚̕̕̕͘ͅl̵̨̛̛̦͍̥̅̈̓͒̐̎̾̅͂̌̃̊͆̅̌̊̉̔́̆͊̓͐͆̀͒̀̓̅͛̒̋͛͆͘̕̚̚͘͠͠m̴̛̲̟̳̪̱̻̰̞̪̲̯̺̉̂̔̍͑̌̈́̓̽̉̾̀̌͐̍͑́͊̾͊̈́̇̈̏͌̅͊͘̕͝͝͝o̷̧̧̡̧̢͖̤̹̩̼͉̩̭̾̌̒̉̀̾̅̐́́̏̓͌̍̑̓́̈́͛̑͒̓͊̓̂̔̕͘͜͝͠͠ẗ̷̡̢̜̬̺̮͕̬͖̹͎̪͓͉̳̳̮͕́̈́͋̇̚̚͜h̷̛̥̖̬̜̘̼͎̣̟͚̯͙͉̱̥̦̥̭̀̌͑̈́͛̐͗̈́̕͜͝͝ͅe̶̢̢̢̛͇̰̟̦̦͎̟̪̱̭̘̹͕̫͈̜̮͈̰̞̬͊̒̄̈̉̋̋̅̔̉̅̊̈́̎̀͐̌͛͋͛͗̑͌̂̈̊̎̓̆͗̃͂̽̍̕̕̚͝͝͠͝͠͝ŗ̵̧̢̨̧̡͙̥̼̯̣̭͕̙͖̗͉̣͙̫̫̜͕͍̜̟̣̻̪̱̘͕̗̰̦̜̮̝͖̞̖͇͈̤͔̻͊̌̓̂͜ͅͅͅs̸̨̧͓͈̳̩͚̑͌̋̆̑͋̈́͂̈́̀̾̒͑͘̕ had three for every of their species, the first mothers. They are false gods, worshipped for their power but just as dangerous and killable as a minawnii.

I feel the rocks shift, I watched my sisters leave for the shallow colors above me. I want to sleep, I do not care for yesterday it bores me, though I do quite like the island in the middle.

It’s so full of life and society builds around herds of thousands….that’s the only place I want to go. Maybe I will go one day…maybe…

I reached my head out of the sea, watching the sands of tomorrow calling for something to take me from this sea to the land beyond. I have hoped for eons for that, now yesterday is gone, Today is here.

I have watched things pass over me as the land becomes lush, huge white kangaroo-like beings. They have black pupils that have watched me…I will not care when they die..

As I beg on this watery fence a nycoton comes to me, oh how I owe them my life. I know now I should not have cared for another mortal again after this NYCOTON but I did, and it hurts me still.

They stared at me like a pitiful dog who just fell in the river, I am older than the lush grass beneath that creatures claws. Though I will never be able to tell them not in my garbled words, corrupted and vile.

The white beasts came and attacked the poor creature ripping them apart, they died taking me to that lake, forever I wonder how it would be if they never lifted me from that cursed stream.

They lifted me from those waves and took me to a lake, an oasis. The same white creatures stare at me forever more like I am a plague come to kill them. In the end I was I guess…

The days grew hotter and I watched the pond shrink as centuries passed it became sand, the dense fur of those white diesura made them leave I think. They looked panicked every time I rose my head from the water, tossing meat at me in fear.

They ran and the oasis was empty for a while I watched hungrily, and soon wardens came.

Huge creatures, hellions I believe they came in wondrous elegance casting order in an empty land. They were at war I think, they didn’t like a poisonous alternates, big as them or as toxic as a mola mola.

I watched as in fear a huge green portal ripped through the sky, I watched as these wardens, overseers, protecters.

They betrayed their own duty….

They chased the creatures they warred with to the sky killing those who ran. I saw a young sar’hingaro fly away in tears, given mercy and vengeance by the wardens, allowed to live forever alone in this evil land.

I decided this land must learn, I told stories and legends from yesterday to anyone who came near my pond, speaking of trees bigger than imaginable, and mushroom grass that fed you like berries.

They all listened to these tales, some stayed to hear more, despite the stories being limited to the tales and songs told to me by the winds.

These tales attracted many beings across the lands, some came to the oasis for the stories. But overtime it became that the creatures wanted to not be alone.

Many creatures were roaming the land, alone save for their family. This barren desert served a collection, the steps and gallops of these creatures led to the oasis becoming more desert like.

Under the wardens rule the land flourished, but I listened to the wind, and heard the cries of that sar from oh so long ago.

It was called grief, it was alone forevermore, all it’s people left in a wasteland save for this poor beast.

Grief, as what was it’s name, grows to vengeance, so I watched as the sky was painted green in its monstrous size.

I watched helpless, as the wardens queen, a huge boreal, followed by verdants, ardors, and hellions alike.

It was a slaughter, the beasts I played games with and wondered at snow the young creatures I watched dance under the moon,

Gone,

Fire painted the sand red as the sar named grief destroyed the land, blowing holes in the mountains.

I watched it felt as if my gills ripped themselves from my body and cried with me.

A black and white kendyll heard, it listened to my distorted garbles, incomprehensible but full of tangible emotion, I had not eaten in so long and I was sad.

The kendyll listened and left for a few days and brung me, a carcass of something too marred with bites and blood to tell. I stayed quiet, carnage wrote itself over this poor thing.

MEAT

I feasted like a starving dog that night.

I learned how to speak sonarian better because of that kendyll, she talked to me so much….it was nice. A friend…I hadn’t had that in many millenia they were something I wanted to be if I could walk these lands…

But all things die, some more brutally than most.

I woke up one day swimminb to the shallows looking for that kendyll who spoke to me so much bringing me food and warming a heart as cold as the trenches below. Only to find only her dead floating body , bobbing on the surface of the sea covered in poison, already starting to rot.

Yet again I felt my heart twist and feel heavy, yet again that horrible feeling you despicable mortals call….grief. I swam around the shallows looking for any sign it was a joke…it wasn’t…

I will keep hope I WILL you mortals are just….lost…

But after a week or so, her child came to me, tail between their legs filled with the same twisting sight in their own hearts. They ranted sadly about how unfair it was an so on and so forth, I listened my heart broke a little more…. More than a god could even stand….. funny..

I have been here since the world began but I just can let go of the fact that mortals are corrupt.

The young kendyll grew older, as all mortals grew, they shown like stars on their stripes, a beauty to rival the three moons above our own heads, but at a cost of their own mother. A sad price I don’t think any being would pay…

I came to the shallows again hoping to be given food by the sad kendyll but found their drowned body instead, another friend had died. Those useless mortals can’t stay ALIVE why can’t they just STAY.

Yet again I cried and cried, but I didn’t want them to be eaten by a hungry idiotic scavenger so I buried their body in the sandy waters where kelp still grows, green by my blessing.

The last these kendylls to bring me food was the sad ones niece. I never learned their name but they were excitable. They ruled when the rulers of the oasis were divided, and rules were strict and cruel.

She ranted to me about the unfair rules and made plans of rebellion, they never came true though…. She died of sadness after she found her eggs crushed, and wife dead.

So useless….

The ani’s lasted longest out of all the rulers of the oasis, probably more than in the rule of the cruel Jeff’s.

The Jeff’s I never saw, but was told to me by the gods. The Jeff’s who built castles out of lightning and rock. Bigger than mountains and crushed creatures big and small out of rage.

The ani’s grew to a empire across the oasis. They swam in my waters playing and giving me food, as every ruler did before.

They were cruel killing every carnivore that came, it was hypocritical in a sense, they kept me alive at the cost of many I will never know…..

….

Their foolishness though led them to die to a volcanic eruption. I do not miss them though, they were religious and hateful to other species.

The ones who had lived under other kings, queens, emperors and empresses.

The final true caretaker was a green kendyll, scarred and mute. He never spoke but he is the only one I knew by name. The kendyll’s name was luv, a weird one but land dwellers are like that.

He showed me things in the sand I will never see and I marveled at it despite my life eons longer than his.

He brung me food more than the others, quiet, always seeming regretful.

One day I watched as he looked around with insanity in his eyes, a need to kill.

I watched as he killed anyone in his path, it was a slaughter. He killed everything, the sands blood red. Bubbling with hate and white hot vengeance.

Luv roared words that could only be described as madness, and anger that was fueled by a broken mind.

He screamed and crashed in hatred killing the divided rulers and their people. When I looked out of the pool of water I saw blood everywhere. Many sought retribution.

He came back after a few weeks scarred beyond comprehension and filled with grief. I couldn’t bear to lose another “friend”. I tried to protect him but….Luv didn’t survive his grief of killing so many. I tried hard to protect him and heal him, but it was all for not.

So that night he passed away.

As many centuries passed, empires and tyrants rose and fell like the suns above us all, the oasis changed. The sand would forevermore be red with rage and insanity and murder and disaster haunted every corner. I protected those who asked but was feared.

Kohiiki’s as old as me looked ghoulish and as ancient as I was I still hoped every little creature to every mammoth would live in peace one day.

One who shared my thoughts was a small vaumora not even three, who danced and played on the shallows of my large pond, always joyous when I spoke in my garbled mimicry of you land dwellers language.

The vaumora seemed to light up every bit of the red sands painted by blood for so long. Making even the worst of the inhabitants smile. But the little vaumora’s joy didn’t last, caught in the crossfire of a turf war, they died in flames.

I loved the oasis but I had seen it grow for what was three millennia now, crying over lost friends or watching coldy over corrupt rulers.

The last of these rulers to ever reign under my blessing and hopes was a group of jotunhel.

These seals were smart enough to protect and Ally with the worst but after so many generations the ideals changed. War painted the dunes, the plains, and redwoods. What was my last promise was gone, so I take my last goodbye.

I have watched the world change and tears of the last wardens. I hope while I leave to the dark abyss that I came from, immortal as I am. That your world changes to something better.

But I will not watch, my heart has been ripped from my gills to many times for that.

I want to come back, maybe when you have learned…

So goodbye to the oasis May we meet again at a time which is better.

:::::::

I have listened to the words of the wind for a long, long time. Watching the waves sing their hymns to me

My hope, despite being broken so many times may just be true. So I tell my sights back to the place a lot oh so long ago.

When I returned it was not the same place, scattered but at peace. It did have an overseer of sorts.

I really should have listened to those words and warnings the wind carried to me, through the depths of the ocean to the place this world rose from.

I placed to much hope in you creatures filled with greed and fear, to angry at each other to notice what had watched, like me fro an eternity.

:::::::

Aereis were old things, things that had been there since before the mountains were even molehills.

They always watched, some came but many hid and died in the ancient mountains of yesterday.

But for every species there was an allmother, the first of their kind, immortal and huge. There were three Aereis that were allmother’s, and one who watched a bit to closely. They were jealous of the allmother kohiiki who despite their title never had a single child.

A false god of sorts, she was jealous that they played, and spoke, and shared eternal knowledge to those from today and tomorrow. The Aereis waited, and waited for three millennia, and finally the Kohiiki allmother left, sad and hopeless.

The Aereis flew down casting order and life in to a broken kingdom teaching them of the world from before, when the volcano was a mountain in a sea. When the very oasis they stood on was nothing more than an island therochales congregated in massive herds of thousands.

The broken lands stood in confliction staring hatefully at the first predators, the ones who caused this wonderlands destruction.

From this hate the Aereis allmother molded the land into what she thought as perfect.

A land with no rules and only her false prophecies stolen from the great lmakosauridons from that long taken sleep and dreamed of better days.

::::::

I saw what had become of my waters filled with scratch marks, trying to get rid of what was the last words to this beloved place to me.

What changed?

I saw the Aereis, staring along the land like it was a junevile just out of the egg. What cruel fate was this?

I forged this land though my broken heart and it now belonged to a false god? They did not know who had forged these sands into something better, who watched it change and cry?

I looked for anything that remained, I may have been confined to the waters and held captive by the binds of the waves but the rain and wind told me songs and stories from tomorrow and today.

I listened to what happened, not of peace but of trickery and jealousy, and I raged.

I called every storm I could call hoping for change

I called for the greatest floods and the strongest hurricanes

The most evil gales that tore through mountains like paper

I called to every cloud and every drop of water to reek justice to what had been my hopes and dreams.

Dishonor to had been once was, but I am not cruel.

I called to the furies had sent to not harmed those who still remembered, those undeserving of the evils. Those who met justice would be given it in kind, I will reap just what they sought.

What was left of my land, stricken grew better, the red sands filled with blood no longer haunted the corrupt oasis. Trees grew tall and the island from yesterday grew back. But this cruelty still must meet justice.

I swam to the heart of this world and cried my regret, not thinking of the blood shed to a world that will never know. I will give something back to fix what had been lost.

I wanted to give the gift of a portal locked away. The wardens were long gone, I could not open it.

So I searched for some being who could. For decades a swam the endless waters, listened to the rains chatter and the winds excited symphonies.

I found what could’ve been, the tired ancient sar’hingaro from the days of the hellions, and it’s dying hope. I took what was needed, a soul for the freedom of a wastelands sorrows.

….

…

Finally my gift had been given, the world the wardens locked away in their unfit justice.

So few were left from that exile but they came back and I was happy.

I watched as my gift healed the blood that had built this tomorrow.

I am at peace now so I say this to my last hopes and dreams, I am ready to sleep I have rebuilt a world into something that yesterday had been, today had destroyed, and tomorrow was again.

It had been 20 long millennium and I am tired, so I sleep in the primordial rocks I came from with my two sisters. They will comfort me while I sleep, have been away from them for much to long…

From the ends of the earth and the reaches of the sky, my greatest treasure, I have told to you,

Till I awake again,

Leviathan

#Creatures of Sonaria #CoS #Kohiiki #Aereris #Kendyll #Roblox #Creatures of Sonaria Fanfic #Creatures of Sonaria fanfiction #CoS fanfic #CoS fanfiction #video games #fanfic #fanfiction

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thespianbooks · 4 years ago

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 20//

Masterlist

tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Posting a little earlier because last week I posted a little later than I meant to 😅

XXX

"Eris is High Lord of the Autumn Court?" Mor asked carefully, her warm eyes widened in subtle horror.

In the weeks that followed the news of the civil unrest taking place in Autumn, all the courts of Prythian had been on a collective edge. As our spymaster indicated in his reports, Eris indeed sent letters to every court—asking for aid in the fight against his father, and almost every one had begrudgingly sent a small contingency of their armies; Kallias being the only one to outright refuse. After bearing witness firsthand to Beron's insolence at the summit, they all were hesitant to trust that Eris would be any better—especially Kallias, whose heavily pregnant mate had been targeted by the older male. They were surprised, however, to see the legion of Illyrians that Cassian sent; realizing later that we were retaliating directly against Beron for not only his assault against me at the summit, but for his attack on Velaris as well. They also knew of the tenuous alliance Rhys and I had with Eris for his help during the war, and one-by-one they offered their support for the male in a fortnight.

Azriel nodded in response to Mor, taking a subtle step closer as she loosed a shaky breath. After meeting with his brothers, Rhys had called for the rest of us to gather in the library in order to disclose the information they received earlier this morning—that Eris had beaten his father and was crowned as the new High Lord of Autumn, while his despicable father rotted in their prison, for now.

"What now?" I asked as Mor remained speechless, her eyes still darting from side to side as she processed the news.

The last decade of peace hadn't lessened the hatred she bore towards the Autumn male, and I understood how it must've felt to learn that the male who caused her unbearable pain—had left her for dead, was now elevated to a high position of power.

"Now that bastard keeps a leash on Keir, until we and the other courts can pull back our forces and recuperate before tackling our next issue." Rhysand answered, keeping a watchful eye on his cousin.

"How long will that take?" Amren asked from her seat next to Mor, subtly moving closer and offering the blonde her glass of wine.

"Two or three weeks, give or take." Cassian responded as Mor took that glass and gulped down the remainder of its contents.

"How exactly will he do that?" Elain asked timidly, she hadn't been very involved in the meetings where we developed our plan of action—the war with Hybern still too fresh in her memory for her to actively participate as she had back then. She was finally in a good place, nearly recovered mentally, and talks of going to war again only gave her painful reminders of what she had lost then.

I placed a hand over hers gently. "Rhys has been writing back and forth with Eris over the last two weeks. Once he started gaining an advantage over his father, Eris received a letter from Keir offering to create an alliance," I explained.

"You mean renew an alliance," Mor said bitterly as she stood and crossed over to the set of windows, hands on her hips.

I frowned, sharing a look with Rhysand. "But Eris is our ally in this coup. I have already instructed him to keep Keir sidetracked with false promises of a treaty while we work together with the other courts and replenish our armies," he reassured.

"You really think we can trust him?" Mor asked, turning back to face us. "He's been biding his time until he could win his father's throne, using us as leverage, how do we know he'll keep his word now that he has it?"

"He is ruthless, cousin, there's no doubt about that. He also knows that he would be at a severe disadvantage if he paired with Keir in the coup. His court just underwent a civil war, it is in shambles and he now has to navigate how to deal with his father's supporters and piece his court back together. Partnering with Keir would be disastrous and result in his court falling apart completely," Rhys explained calmly.

"If for some batshit crazy reason he does decide to side with Keir, we outnumber them now." Cassian added. "With the other courts on our side, they can't win."

Mor still looked unconvinced as she turned back to the window without another word. I saw Azriel watching her, a flicker of yearning in those hazel eyes, but he looked away as Elain spoke up again.

"Is there any news of Vassa…?" She asked quietly.

"She was recovered and returned to her home in the Mortal Lands, by Lucien." He answered her just as softly.

A pall of silence fell over us—Mor's rage continued to simmer as she stared out the window; while my sister and the shadowsinger exchanged a prolonged look before she finally looked down at her lap. Whether or not she acknowledged the fact that it was her mate that rescued the mortal queen, or whether or not she cared, I could only guess.

Rhys cleared his throat. "In the meantime, we keep waiting while Eris keeps Keir distracted. During that time, the other courts will be steadily sending their forces until those who fought in Autumn are recovered and can accompany the rest. If all goes according to plan, we have approximately two weeks until we're hosting the other courts and High Lords," he continued.

"Where are we going to host five High Lords, their entourages, and armies? We can't use the palace above the Court of Nightmares, Keir will know." I asked, bewildered.

"We'll host them here, in Velaris," Rhys answered with a rouge smirk.

"And their armies will camp out in the Northern Forests of the Illyrian Steppes," Cassian finished, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a crooked grin of his own. "We'll give them a little taste of what it's like in those mountains."

"What if Kallon gets reports of those gathered armies? He'll alert Keir," I challenged.

Rhys placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "They'll be stationed outside of Windhaven camp. Kallon is too busy rallying his rebels to bother checking in on his rival camp. We'll be setting up wards to shield them once they've become large enough; the other High Lords and I will take turns keeping them up."

I squeezed his hand back, leaning back against the cushion of my chair and running a free hand over my belly. Madja continued to assure Rhys and I that our son was growing at the expected rate and remained perfectly healthy. My recovery continued to improve, and the healer had alleviated some of the conditions for my confinement. I was now allowed out of bed for short walks around the estate; I could also paint and tend to some of my duties as High Lady, like writing letters and sorting through reports, but needed to maintain a light and easy schedule—nothing involving anything too strenuous. Since I was on the cusp of entering the last stage of pregnancy, only a few short months away from giving birth, she advised that I remain in the estate until my time came—when my period of nesting began, and Rhys would whisk me away to the Cabin in preparation for the birth of our son.

"Will there be fighting?" Nesta asked.

She stood beside Cassian; hands neatly folded in front of her as she turned a raised chin to the male. Though I couldn't see it, I knew the memories that flashed behind her fierce grey-blue eyes—of Cassian on the battlefield during the war; of the injuries he sustained.

"It's doubtful," Rhys replied for the commander. "We outnumber his Darkbringers and rogue Illyrians six-to-one. Once he and Kallon get word of the troops gathered in the Steppes, they'll come to meet us with their own. If they're smart, they'll realize sooner rather than later how ill-fated their cause has become and surrender."

Mor scoffed from her place at the window. "Like hell they will. You know that bastard won't go down without a fight."

"Then there will be a slaughter. Either way, they lose." Rhys said easily. "They'll be reminded of why previous coup attempts have been thwarted, and the Illyrians will be put in their place once again. As for Keir," he shared a meaningful look with his cousin as citrine and amethyst clashed. I pictured the paints I would use, emphasizing just the shape and fierceness of that shared look.

"So...we have nothing to worry about?" Elain asked hesitantly.

I took her hand again, "We're safe Elain. With our allies and this plan, the coup will fail. This confrontation is nothing like how it was with Hybern."

She nodded, her tense shoulders easing a bit. Amren crossed one leg over the other as a crooked grin lined her lips. "At least this time I won't be needing to sacrifice my life for you lot."

"We could always add you to the front lines. They don't know you don't have any powers; we could just use you to intimidate them to death," Cassian quipped.

"She's far too small for that," Azriel added.

Cassian roared in laughter as Amren glared at the spymaster. I half-heartedly laughed, noting the edge that lingered between my mate and his cousin; until Mor turned away and walked out of the library.

Is she okay? I asked through the bond.

As okay as she can be. She hates that Eris is High Lord, but I just informed her that I will be turning her wretched father over to her after this coup is over

Did that help?

Not as much as I would have hoped

Let me go talk to her. It's been a while since we've talked alone, maybe I can help her sort through her feelings.

Rhys only nodded in response before crossing over to stand in front of me and helped ease me to my feet. Despite my remarkable recovery, my growing belly still made my movements slower and slower. I was also beginning to notice that my balance was growing increasingly skewed but blamed it on the bed rest for now. The others hardly noticed as he escorted me to the door; their continued conversations and my departure a subtle indication that our meeting was over.

"How are you feeling?" Rhys asked once we were in the hallway, wrapping an arm around my waist as we walked.

"I'm fine. It's been nice to walk around again, even if I'm stuck indoors for now," I said.

A small frown came to his face and I quickly realized how my words sounded. The last time I had been confined inside an estate…

"It's not the same," I quickly amended. "I'm doing it for our little Bash," I said while rubbing my stomach for emphasis. "For both of our health. You're not locking me away and forbidding me from entering the city."

He took my hand in his free one, bringing it to his lips. "Never," he said. "Maybe in another couple of weeks Madga will deem it safe for us to resume our walks out along the Sidra. We'll get to enjoy the weather while it's still warm."

I smiled. "After this coup is over, and those responsible are taken care of, we'll get to enjoy it. We'll get to enjoy this," I said as I looked down at my middle.

Rhys's eyes softened as his gaze moved to my stomach, and I felt our son stretch in my belly. We stopped short of Mor's room and he pressed a kiss to my brow, his hands holding either side of my swollen abdomen. "Yes, we will."

I breathed in his scent and sighed lightly before pulling him in for a quick kiss. "You go take care of business. I'll talk to Mor and spend the day with her."

He nodded before taking a step back, "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"I'll be fine," I reminded him.

He smirked and kissed my belly goodbye before winnowing away. I took in another inhale before I stepped around the corner and approached Mor's door. Before I could knock, however, the door swung open with the blonde on the other side of it. She ushered me inside wordlessly and I followed suit, walking into her suite.

"You didn't need to come check on me," she said as she closed the door behind me.

"I figured you needed someone to talk to after hearing the news," I said as I worked to lower myself on the plush settee in the center of her room.

She sighed and plopped herself onto the seat beside me, helping me down and stared at her feet. "I knew it was bound to happen someday, especially after the deal Rhys made with him, but…" she trailed off.

"But it's different actually seeing it become a reality," I affirmed and touched her shoulder gently.

"I know, and you're completely entitled to your feelings. After everything that's happened, on top of this coup orchestrated by Keir," I shook my head and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry Mor."

She continued to stare at the ground until her dark-honeyed eyes finally met mine. "I'm well over five-hundred centuries old, and yet any knowledge of the two of them working together—even under a guise for our sake just…" she shook her head, truly unable to voice the rage boiling underneath her skin, her elegant fingers curling into fists.

I touched one of those fists, levelling my gaze with hers. "Mor, I promise you, if Eris so much as looks at us the wrong way, we'll take care of him. The last thing we do is trust him, and I know Rhys wouldn't hesitate to rip him to shreds if he tries anything like his father did." I promised.

The corner of her mouth twitched upward slightly, and she sighed. "I know the alliance is necessary. I'm just not happy about it," she lamented.

"Neither am I," I assured, and she dipped her head in approval before uncurling her hands and bringing one to touch my stomach gently.

"How is he?" she asked.

Ever since revealing to my sisters that I was expecting a boy, the news hadn't remained a secret for long. Elain had been so delighted and shared the news with Mor and Amren during dinner that same night; Cassian then boasting that he had known for some time, which launched into a debate with the entire inner circle. I then sheepishly promised Rhysand that I wouldn't reveal our son's name until after his birth.

"He's good, moving a lot right now," I answered and smiled at feeling a kick. "Feel that?"

Mor's widened grin was answer enough as she continued to stroke my belly, encouraging my son to kick more and laughed as he responded to her movements and words.

"How does it feel for you?" She asked.

I shrugged. "It's hard to describe, the more he grows the different it feels. Viviane once told me that once I reach the end stages, I'll start to feel feet, fists, and elbows in there."

Mor cringed. "Does it hurt at all?"

I shook my head. "I think he's still too small. His movements are noticeable but not painful."

She nodded and studied my belly for a silent minute, caressing it lightly. "I can't wait for all of this to be over so we can turn all the attention on you, little one. Auntie Mor already has so many presents for you," she cooed.

I blinked, "Presents?"

She grinned mischievously, "Wanna see?"

I nodded with a laugh, but as she got up and crossed over to her enormous closet, a knock came at her door. Raising a brow, she walked over and opened it; a sentry waiting outside of it before she allowed him in.

"Pardon me, milady, but Lucien Vanserra is here to see you," the sentry informed me, albeit a bit hesitant.

I balked at him. "Here on the grounds?" I asked to confirm.

Lucien was about the only male welcomed in and out of Velaris; due to his connection with Elain, and his desire to be closer from time-to-time after the war, he had his own apartment in the city. However, since constructing the estate, he only visited on a few occasions.

The sentry nodded, "Yes. He arrived moments ago, insisting on an audience with you. Lord Rhysand greeted him, but he still maintains in meeting with you alone."

I paused to think. Knowing my mate, he was leaving the decision to me. "Is he alright?" I asked cautiously. "He isn't hurt, is he?"

The sentry shook his head. "He seems well, but unyielding."

"Maybe it has something to do with his swine of a brother," Mor offered. "I'll go with you. If he's angry, the last thing we want is for him to lash out at you in your condition."

"Lucien wouldn't hurt me Mor. If anything, he's probably hurting too. I have a feeling something else has happened," I said before motioning her to help me stand.

I grunted a bit with effort as she helped me get to my feet, a little wearier than I had previously been. Mor frowned, "We can send for him after dinner, once you've gotten some food and rest."

"I'll meet him in the sitting room attached to my suite. I can rest there and talk with him, and I know you all won't be far," I insisted and linked my arm with hers.

"Tell Lucien I will meet him in my sitting room in five minutes," I said to the sentry, who bowed in response and left the room.

"Are you sure about this Feyre? If he upsets you and puts too much strain on you and the baby…" Mor began.

"It's all right Mor," I assured her as she escorted me out of her room. "I think it's Lucien's turn to vent to a friend about the new High Lord of Autumn."

Mor cringed, recalling the cruel revelation Eris had unleashed on his youngest brother at the summit months ago. Still, as she led me back to the sitting room adjoined to my suite, she waited with me for Lucien's arrival. Moments later, my disheveled friend strode in, his russet eye wide while the mechanical one whirring as he took us in. He didn't so much as look at Mor as he cautiously approached me.

"Did you know?" He asked me by way of greeting. "About Helion and my mother? About-" he began but cut himself off as he finally realized Mor was standing beside the chaise lounge I perched on.

I turned a look at her and she understood my request. "I'll be down the hall," she said before leaving us alone.

"Did you know about their affair? That Helion is my-" he cut himself off again, unable to say the words as he paced the room.

I only offered a small nod, watching him empathetically. "Yes," I said softly.

"When?" He asked, still pacing back and forth across the carpet. "When did you figure it out? Or who told you? Was it my father? I mean, was it-"

"I figured it out after I first met Helion; before the war with Hybern started and we all gathered for the first time at Thesan's palace. He told me the story of what happened to your mother, her sisters, and how he rescued her during the first war." I answered, interrupting his rambling questions.

He stopped pacing and faced me. "Did Rhysand know?"

I shook my head. "Not until I figured it out myself. I made the connection; Rhys didn't realize it until I did."

His arms grew slack at his sides. "So, it's not some well-known secret that all of Prythian knows about and just hid from me?"

"No Lucien, it-" I began but then he interrupted.

"So why didn't you tell me, Feyre?" He asked, both of his eyes wide and bewildered. "You've known all this time and you didn't think to tell me? I thought we were friends!"

I frowned as he snapped at me, my hormones surging and causing tears to well in my eyes. It must have been evident, because he sighed and took a mild step towards me before turning away and running both hands through his bright auburn hair with an exasperated sigh. I quickly put my emotions in check, not wanting my irrational mood swing to interrupt Lucien's moment.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"No, Lucien, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Honestly, I didn't think it was my place, and after what happened at the summit, I thought it was the last thing you wanted to hear." I explained.

He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the ground. "My father...I mean, Beron, told me. When he attacked the Mortal Lands and took Vassa. He...claimed I was 'no son of his' and said I was nothing more than a Day Court bastard. I was shocked, and then he started the attack. I tried to fight him off, to protect Vassa, but then…" his voice faded as his eye turned hazy, the other whirring out of focus as he recalled whatever details that occurred that day.

I slowly offered my hand, still seated, and it took a minute before he registered my movement and took it. I motioned for him to sit beside me and he did, his shoulders slumped over slightly as an invisible weight pressed on them.

"When Eris was crowned, my fa...Beron, imprisoned; my mother summoned me back to the palace. She broke down and explained everything, told me of her relationship with Helion and that he was my biological father. She never told him," he went on, voice barely above a whisper.

"She loved him, Feyre, and her husband kept her there. Imprisoned to serve as Lady of the Autumn Court, even while she carried another male's child," he pressed a palm onto his good eye, massaging the stress from it.

I placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. "How is she?"

He sighed. "Relieved. Eris is granting her a separation from Beron before he...finds a way to deal with him, but when she told me about Helion, she seemed...broken." He met my gaze again,

"You were almost her. All those years ago with Tamlin, when I didn't do anything to stop it. I almost let what happened to my mother happen to you," he said, a subtle horror laced in his voice.

"What happened to your mother wasn't your fault, Lucien." I said, moving my hand from his shoulder to his hand.

"I knew. A part of me knew she wasn't happy with my father," he cringed. "Beron. Yet I didn't try to take her away. I didn't do anything, and neither did Helion."

I sighed and moved a little closer to him. "Lucien, there was nothing you could have done. Beron had complete control over her. Even if you could, she probably wouldn't have left for fear of him and what he might do."

"But that's the point, I could have," he jumped back to his feet, pacing again. "I could have done something for her, for you, and I didn't. I couldn't protect her, or you, and I couldn't protect Vassa! I couldn't even protect your sister, my mate, from what Hybern did to her and Nesta. What kind of male am I that I can't protect the ones I care for, the ones I love?"

I frowned, "Lucien-"

"No, I...he took Vassa, Feyre. He managed to find that sorcerer that controls her and forced her into her firebird form. The way she screamed; it was...I couldn't bear it. Then learning what he did to my mother, and remembering what happened to you...to Elain, to even Jesminda, and how I allowed it all to happen. I...what…" he looked around frantically, his chest heaving a bit as he paced.

I did my best to rise as quickly and cautiously as I could before I approached him and threw my arms around him in an embrace. His arms were pinned at his sides as I held him, his body going rigid at first—until slowly he relaxed, his arms going limp before slowly wrapping his arms around me in return. Despite the complicated past with Tamlin, the one instance where he did have a say, he was my friend and had more than made up for it since. Beron had given him a life of turbulence; him and his brothers making Lucien's life hell until he found reprieve in the Spring Court. Then, once his closest friend had begun turning into a tyrant reminiscent of his father, those feelings of being trapped returned—unable to help me to the extent he wanted. After escaping that, after the war, he once again found solace with his human friends...until Beron's latest attack.

Lucien had felt so out of control in his own life, and every time little moments of freedom were offered—whether by finding a home in the Spring Court, then being welcomed to Velaris and the Mortal Realm, it seemed to crumble before him. Now with this latest truth revealed to him, it was no wonder that he was beginning to crumble next.

I wouldn't let that happen.

"Your mother is safe. I am safe. Elain is safe, and Vassa is safe," I said. "We are all safe now Lucien. Yes, we each endured some version of hell, but we survived. Just like you are doing now," I pulled back at arm's length to meet his gaze.

"You saved Vassa. As for me and Elain, who knows what would have happened if you hadn't done your part during the war; if you hadn't guided the Mortals, and Drakon and Miyram's army down the right path. As for your mother, you did what you could. Unfortunately, there was nothing you could do while she remained subservient under Beron, but now she is free of him. There is so much to look forward to Lucien," I took his hands again, squeezing them. "There will be good days and bad—don't let the hard days win."

Lucien blinked at me; his russet eye growing soft while the golden one whirred quietly. He continued to stare at me before he embraced me again, pulling me in a little too tightly and I cringed at the pressure on my stomach. He gasped and stepped back.

"Are you okay?" he asked

I nodded with a weary laugh, holding my stomach. "I'm fine, you just squished him a little."

He looked at my stomach, as if he just noticed it and helped me back to my seat carefully. "I almost forgot how far along you were. I haven't seen you since the summit."

"It's weird huh?" I motioned to my enlarged belly. "Sometimes I'm still a little surprised when I see myself in the mirror."

"Is he okay? I heard what you did...after what happened in Velaris," he asked with a frown.

"We're okay. We had a little scare, but my healer took care of us right away. I was on bedrest for a while, and technically still recovering, but I'm better now." I answered, resting my arms over my stomach.

He shook his head. "Rhysand must've lost his mind. I nearly did when Vassa was taken, and she isn't," he stopped himself with another shake of his head—as if trying to erase the memory of what happened to the mortal Queen.

I raised my brow at the tone in his voice, his worry for the fierce mortal woman. I paused as he loosed a long breath, finally cooled from his panic. "Do you want me to call Elain? I know she was worried about Vassa too, maybe you can assure her that she's alright?"

Lucien shook his head. "No, it's alright, I should get back to Vassa," he said, but paused when he met my questioning stare. "And Jurian; the mortal lands."

I laughed. "But…" he started. "Will you tell her I was here?"

"Yes. I'll let her know you're taking care of Vassa."

He dipped his head in a subtle nod and sighed again. "Thank you Feyre," he said softly.

"Anytime Lucien, just remember what I said okay?"

He offered a stiff smile before leaning down to give me a parting hug before escorting himself out. Rhys appeared in the doorway a second later.

"Well," he started. "That was intense."

I sighed, slumping back against the lounge and running my hands over my stomach. "He was upset. Beron told him about Helion and his mother."

Rhys released his own deep exhale and crossed over to the lounge, scooping me up easily and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, resting my head against his shoulder. He walked us into our adjoining bedroom, laying me across the bed carefully and spreading out beside me. I rubbed my stomach lightly, watching it before Rhys placed a hand at the apex of my belly.

"He'll recover. It'll take time, but he will come to terms with the news," he said quietly as he ran his hand over the expanse of my stomach.

"Do you think Helion knows?" I asked.

"He probably suspects after the comment Eris made at the summit," he responded, voice still low. "Though I'm not sure what he'll do about it."

"What would you have done, if it were us? If I had actually married Tamlin, and in my time spent here to fulfill the bargain, you and I fell in love regardless? If we had conceived our son and I was stuck in the Spring Court, forced to name him Tamlin's…" I flinched at just the mere thought of it, of how easily it could have been me.

Rhys took my chin gently, tilting my head back to meet his violet eyes, sparkling intensely. "I would have torn the world apart for you, Feyre," he reminded me.

I smiled half-heartedly before he pulled me closer. "We don't know exactly how hard Helion tried to get her back, perhaps now they'll get the end they deserved," he said.

"Maybe," I mused, playing with the collar of his black tunic. "Did Eris...say anything about what he plans to do with Beron?"

"He's keeping him imprisoned until further notice. Said he might turn him over to us once we have Keir and Kallon in our custody," he said as his fingertips traced my side lightly.

I shivered at his touch, a part of me resenting Madja for deeming any sexual activity still too strenuous during my recovery. I hummed in response, "He'd actually let us execute his father?"

Rhys shrugged. "Beron will die regardless, along with Keir and Kallon."

"Mmm, what a fitting end for the three of them." I murmured, my eyes beginning to feel heavy as my mate's warmth continued to envelop me.

He noticed the fatigue in my voice and pressed a kiss to my brow. "All this talk of war and its lasting effects is wearing you down my love," he teased.

I rolled my eyes, closing them as I laid my head on his shoulder. "It wouldn't be if I weren't so busy growing a powerful high fae," I muttered.

I felt his dark chuckle rattle in his chest. "Sleep Feyre," he whispered as a hand ran down my back gently.

Sebastian must've wanted the same, because despite his constant movements and kicks just a while earlier, he was now calm—perhaps slipping into his own nap. I felt myself fading, too tired to respond with a witty remark and only stirred slightly when I felt Rhys move from my side and press another kiss to my brow.

I dreamt of Sebastian running through a pile of bright red and orange leaves, laughing and giggling as they crunched under his feet, Lucien standing at a distance with a content smile on his face—Vassa at his side.

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