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soullessdianthus · 1 year

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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚

Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)

Word count: 1.6k

A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.

A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison.

After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings.

Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.

Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration.

Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard.

━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out.

He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart.

Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching”. Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day.

At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline.

But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself.

The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not.

O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly.

You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you?

Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company.

Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago.

For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit.

He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor?

That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat.

━ What’s wrong, cariño?

━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.

Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger.

━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.

You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back.

━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!

He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better.

He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out.

Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it.

His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you.

━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose.

The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips.

Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft.

Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better.

The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers.

━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid.

━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!

━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release.

Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night.

Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth.

He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple.

━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]

Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?

━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #reader insert #smut #miguel o'hara smut

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ffsg0jo · 4 months

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tw: suggestive and also pretend everything ended after gojo was unsealed and that everyone's alive !!

you shouldn't be feeling this way. the entire world was in disarray, still recovering from the aftershock of chaos and destruction stomping hand in hand through the streets.

but your husband had changed drastically. since escaping the prison realm, he'd gotten thicker, bulkier, his frame now matching his larger than life ego.

the way his t-shirt deliciously hugged and stretched against his biceps. the baggy, white martial arts pants (which are almost see-through in the sunlight) left so much to the imagination, and god, you couldn't stop imagining what was underneath.

the pretty little bow tying it all together was just calling you, begging you to untie it and sink to your knees, revering him the way he deserved to be. you wanted your husband so badly that you couldn't focus on any of the tasks at hand. major damage control and cleanup were needed, but your mind was only on your husband. it was pathetic, and you felt ashamed, but you needed him, entire world be damned.

it was like a switch flicked in your brain. the 20 days he was locked up, you spent it all in a constant state of panic and worry, fighting to stay alive and to keep your students alive too. and the moment you saw satoru, you were taken aback, rooted to the spot.

there he was, your satoru in all his infinite glory. as he ran and gathered you up in his arms, you couldn't help but slightly whimper at the feeling of his taut muscles pressing against your softer form. he felt so good against your body and finally in your arms.

satoru, well versed in your body language, immediately understood what was going through your head. the same could be said for him, too. he spent hours upon hours alone in the prison realm, his body devoid of your touch, aching for you. not a second went by where he didn't think about your lips pressed against his heated skin and indulging in your soft, silky, warmth.

he could feel the blood rushing south as he heard you whimper. satoru wanted to kiss you so bad, but he knew if he did, he'd end up taking you right here, right now in front of everyone.

he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, another stamped lovingly onto your hairline. satoru held your face in his palms, forehead pressed against yours. his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, mirroring yours. god, he missed his wife so much. his sweet, sweet girl.

satoru's gaze softened, drinking you in properly now. he sees the bags under your eyes and tear tracks engrained into your cheeks. his soul breaks, as he realises how devastated and hearbroken you must have been.

"i love you so much," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your soft lips. "and i'm not going anywhere, my love. i promise."

you couldn't stop yourself leaning up and capturing satoru's lips in a frenzied kiss, you both groaning at the contact. satoru angled your face closer to his, his nose pressing deliciously into yours. he deepened the kiss, gasping at the way you tugged at his slightly overgrown undercut. you took that as an opportunity to slide your tongue past his lips and lick into his mouth.

he tongue fought against yours, wanting to taste every inch of your mouth. the kiss was becoming way too heated. your body pulled flush against his, his hardening length pressing into your stomach, moans escaping both of your lips. satoru drank all your noises up greedily, savouring them on his tongue.

the sudden loud cough to your right made you both pause, realising where you were. collecting yourselves, you slowly pulled apart, a string of saliva splitting as you moved away from your husband, his hands falling to your waist.

you were both panting and out of breath, but that now that you'd gotten a taste, it wasn't enough. you needed to feel his bare skin on yours. you needed to be completely consumed by him. you needed more.

before turning to face his students' satoru smirked at you. you never thought you'd say this, but you revelled in that stupid smirk of his.

'patience' his darkened, lust-filled eyes conveyed, his hands squeezing your waist, 'we have all night'.

i am taking requests and writing fics for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!

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matan4il · 10 months

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Judaism is a native religion and identity, so like all indigenous religions, it has ALWAYS sanctified the bond between the tribe and its ancestral land:

* Jews, no matter where around the world we are, pray in the direction of the Hebrew Temple in Jerusalem.

* Israel, Jerusalem, and Zion are mentioned in the Hebrew Bible hundreds of times, often in connection to the importance of the bond between the land and the Jewish people.

* The Hebrew calendar and Jewish holidays are based on the agricultural year as experienced in the Land of Israel. For example, we celebrate Shavu'ot, the Jewish festival of the harvest, during the Hebrew month of Sivan, which is roughly around the Gregorian month of June. In Australia, June is the rainiest month of the year, with severe temperature drops, absolutely not the right time for the harvest. But Australian Jews still celebrate Shavu'ot at the same time as all other Jews, around June. Because we ALL honor and preserve the agricultural cycle of our ancestors in Israel.

* Many Jewish prayers express a desire to return to Israel, for example with the phrase, "Next year in Jerusalem."

Here's a greeting card, drawn at Linz, a Nazi concentration camp in Austria, which was turned into a DP (displaced persons) camp at the end of the war. The card features the above three Hebrew words (you can see the freed prisoners of the camp on the left, heading towards a land with palm trees on the right, with one of the buildings having a Star of David on top):

* The holiest site for Jewish people in the entire world is the thousands of years old Temple Mount in Jerusalem, where the Jewish temple stood, in Israel.

* Several Jewish holidays explicitly celebrate the Zionist notion, meaning the importance of the bond between the Jews and the Land of Israel. Hanukkah is a celebration of the native Jews fighting off the Greek occupying forces, and re-establishing Jewish sovereignty in Israel, and the freedom from religious persecution this allowed Jews, by re-dedicating the Hebrew Temple in Jerusalem to Jewish worship, after it was defiled by the Greeks (including by re-lighting the Temple Menorah). Passover celebrates the deliverance of the Jews from Egypt, and the start of their journey back home, to their ancestral land in Israel, with the Passover meal ceremony including thanking God for bringing Jews back to Israel, and for building the Temple in Jerusalem for them.

* The language of the Jewish people is Hebrew, which is the last Canaanite language, the last of the languages spoken by the native peoples of Israel. Hebrew is specifically tied to the geography of Israel. For example, in the Bible, the Hebrew word for "west" is also the Hebrew word for "sea," because Israel's western border is the Mediterranean Sea. Similarly, the Hebrew word for "south" is also the Hebrew name of the desert that makes up the southern part of Israel, the Negev. Every Jewish language, which developed in the diaspora (such as Yiddish and Ladino), features words borrowed from Hebrew.

Here's an Israeli poster made in 1949, honoring "Sea Day" and featuring a part of a biblical verse (Genesis 28, verse 14): "And your seed shall be as the sand of the earth, and you will spread to the sea and to the east, to the north and to the Negev, and blessed in you and in your seed will be all the families of the Earth."

* Among the 613 Jewish mitzvahs, religious decrees that Jews must observe, one explicitly states that whenever possible, Jews should strive to live on their ancestral land in Israel. This is called in Hebrew, "mitzvat yishuv Eretz Yisrael."

* Among the 613 mitzvahs, there are 26 mitzvahs that can only be observed while living in the Land of Israel. These are called in Hebrew, "mitzvot ha'tluiot ba'aretz."

* Jewish homes have included for centuries a decorative piece hung on the eastern wall, and called "mizrach" (the Hebrew word for "east"), because that was the direction of Israel to most Jews. It usually included a biblical verse in Hebrew, often one that either mentions the east, Israel or Jerusalem, and also illustrations of Jerusalem or Israel.

Here's an 18th or 19th century mizrach from Germany:

* In Jewish synagogues, especially in Europe, the eastern wall was the most important one, because it was the one facing Israel. This wall was called, "kotel ha'mizrach" which means in Hebrew "the wall of the east."

* Oh, but the word "kotel" refers specifically to the walls of the Temple Mount. For example, the Western Wall, the only one of the Temple Mount's four walls accessible to Jews for centuries (and therefore the plaza in front of it became the second holiest place to Jews, after the Temple Mount itself) is called in Hebrew, "ha'kotel" (the wall). So why would a synagogue wall be referred to as "kotel" as well? Because every Jewish synagogue is called "mikdash me'at," a lesser temple. Every Jewish synagogue is a reminder and placeholder for the destroyed Jewish Temple in Jerusalem.

* Accordingly, many Jewish synagogues feature reminders of the Beit Ha'Mikdash (the Hebrew Temple). For example, this holy ark, from a synagogue in Romania, which survived the Holocaust, and is today presented at Yad Vashem (Israel's national Holocaust museum), includes two pillars on its sides, a reminder of the Temple in Jerusalem's pillars believed to have been build by King Solomon. The holy ark's pillars are named exactly like the Temple's two pillars, Boaz and Yachin. This holy ark also features two hands, they're meant to be the high priest's, while he's performing the priestly blessing, an ancient Jewish ceremony that was conducted on the steps of the Temple in Jerusalem.

* In fact, over the centuries, one of the most prominent Jewish symbols is the menorah, which is a reflection of the candelabra eternally lit in the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem.

The Temple Menorah being stolen by the occupying Romans, as seen on the Titus Arch in Rome:

The menorah as incorporated into jewelery, as a Jewish symbol, goes back thousands of years:

* For centuries, Jews created Jewish art and culture, which expressed Zionist longing. For example, the Sephardi doctor, philosopher and poet Rabbi Yehuda Ha'Levi writes what is maybe the most famous of the "Zion poems" while living in Islamic-occupied Spain: "My heart is in the East, and I am at the end of west / How shall I taste what I eat, and how should it be an enjoyable taste? / How shall I repay my vows and commitments, while / Zion is in the ropes of Edom, and I am in the bonds of Arabia? / It would be easy for me to leave all of the good of Spain, just like / It would be precious to me to witness the ashes of a ruined temple."

* In 1140, Rabbi Yehuda Ha'Levi finally fulfilled his wish, and boarded a ship for the Land of Israel. We don't know what happened to him, but the phrasing in a Hebrew letter, written by Jews who knew him, and found in Egypt, implies that he was murdered. For almost 2,000 years, it was dangerous for Jews to try and return to Israel, and it certainly wasn't possible on the scale of a national movement. Jews knew it was dangerous. And yet for centuries, despite that, individual Jews like Rabbi Yehuda Ha'Levi persisted in attempting this return. This is a part of Jewish history. It's not just that there was a small number of Jews, who managed to remain in Israel despite the repeated expulsions and massacres of Jews from our land, it's also that there was a small number of Jews who dared attempt the return to Israel continuously, over centuries, and neither of these things would have happened had Judaism not been Zionist. Always.

* For centuries, every Jewish wedding includes a part, where the groom recites an oath of loyalty and longing for Jerusalem. The text itself is taken from the Bible, from the second part of Psalms 137: "If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget itself, let my tongue be glued to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not raise Jerusalem at the height of my joy."

* For centuries, every Jewish wedding included a symbolic reminder of the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, and our ancestors' following expulsion from the Land of Israel, by breaking a cup made of glass.

* For centuries, many Jewish homes featured an unfinished patch, as a similar reminder. I'm a secular Jew, but my real life bestie is religious, and her house has a hole in the eastern wall, intentionally left there.

* In fact, the destruction of the Temple, and the following expulsion of the Jewish people from Israel, is SUCH a traumatic and significant event for the Jewish faith, that there is a religious national day of mourning every year, on the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av (the date when Jews believe the first Temple was destroyed in Jerusalem by the Babylonian occupiers, and the second one, re-built after an expulsion and return of the Jews from Babylon to their native land, was destroyed by the Roman occupiers), when Jews fast.

* Ethiopian Jews, who were probably the most disconnected Jewish community along the centuries, have a special holiday, called Sigd. This name is derived from the Hebrew word for worship or prostration, "sgida." It features asking God to return them to Israel. Since the state of Israel has helped the Ethiopian Jewish community to return to this land, starting in 1982, it has become a part of Sigd to celebrate it specifically in Jerusalem.

The Ethiopian Jewish community celebrating Sigd in Jerusalem:

* In fact, the three major Jewish holidays, other than Yom Kippur, are also called "the three pilgrimages" ("shloshet ha'regalim"), because while the Temple stood in Jerusalem, they included all Jews coming there to celebrate the holiday together. These three holidays are Sukkot, Pesach (Passover) and Shavu'ot.

Here's a piece of art depicting Jews in antiquity, coming from all over Israel to the Temple in Jerusalem for sholoshet ha'regalim:

* The Hebrew Bible itself expresses the Jewish Zionist longing, the desire of the Jews to return to their ancestral land no matter what, after they were expelled by the Babylonians from Israel, the same desire that drove their return from their first exile, as recorded in the Bible, and supported by historical documents and archaeological finds. Here's the first part of Psalms 137:

Upon the rivers of Babylon, there we sat, and we wept, as we remembered Zion. On willows there we hung our harps, because there our captors asked us for songs, and our tormentors for joy. "Sing to us from the song of Zion!" How shall we sing God's song on foreign soil?

and here's the craziest thing about this list: there's a good chance I forgot some stuff.

This is posted in honor of the first candle of Hanukkah tonight, and the many Tumblr antisemites, who distort Jewish identity and history by claiming Zionism is incompatible with or has nothing to do with Judaism, people who in the name of anti-Zionism celebrated the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, who ignore Jews pointing out that anti-Zionism is inherently antisemitic, who prove it by going out of their way to deny Jewish native rights, and who think posting "Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish followers!" (as if Hanukkah isn't a Zionist holiday) covers up their antisemitism.

Happy Jewish sovereignty in Israel holiday to all who celebrate Hanukkah! I hope you really enjoy its foods! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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pucksandpower · 1 year

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Gilded Cage

Charles Leclerc x heiress!Reader

Summary: when a girl who craves for freedom meets a boy who knows what it feels like to race at the speed of light

Warnings: overprotective (but loving) father

The first time you tried to escape, you were seven.

“Y/N, let go of the bird!” The nanny’s frantic voice echoed as your small fingers clutched the delicate cage, trying to unlatch it.

“I just want to see it fly!” You cried, tears streaming down your face, looking at the trapped canary. Its golden feathers seemed dulled, its tiny beak opened in a silent plea for freedom.

The cage slipped from your grasp, crashing onto the pristine marble floors. The sound was deafening in the otherwise quiet mansion. Your nanny rushed forward but not before the canary took off, its wings catching the sun, radiating a blinding brightness.

You watched, mesmerized, as the bird soared above, circling once before disappearing into the vast blue sky.

“It’s gone …” your nanny muttered, distraught at the loss of such a valuable creature.

But you, young and innocent, whispered with a smile of pure joy, “It’s free.”

From that day on, you knew one thing for certain: no amount of gold or jewels could substitute for the glitter of freedom.

***

“Again!”

The shout echoes through the cavernous halls of your palatial home. Somewhere outside, the splashing of the water from the elaborate marble fountain merges with the faint humming of gardeners trimming the intricate mazes. The walls, lined with gold-trimmed tapestries and priceless paintings, feel more like prison bars than luxuries.

"Again!"

Your fingers, stiff and aching, try to mimic the piano instructor’s exact movements. Every wrong note feels like a physical blow, another reminder that you are trapped in a world of perfection and expectations.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” you whisper but it came out stronger, more defiant than you intended.

Madame Lucille, your instructor, raises an eyebrow, unaccustomed to your resistance. “Your father wishes you to be well-versed in the classics,” she reminds you with a patronizing tone.

A voice, deep and commanding, interrupts the tension, “Let her be, Lucille.”

Your father stands at the doorway, his expensive suit impeccably tailored, matching the stern look on his face.

“But Sir, she—”

“I said, let her be.”

Madame Lucille gives you one last disapproving glare before hurriedly packing her things. Your father watches her go then turnes to you with softer eyes. “I just want the best for you,” he murmurs, walking over to sit beside you on the grand piano bench.

You take a deep breath, “I know, Papa. But I want to breathe, to live. Not just exist inside these walls.”

He sighs, looking tired. “The world out there isn’t a nice one. There are those who would want to harm you, to use you.”

“I would risk it,” you admit quietly, “For a taste of real life. For a moment outside this golden cage.”

He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re my everything. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

The weight of his love and the prison of his protection bears down on you. “One day, whether you like it or not, I’ll have to face the world. And when that day comes, I want to be ready.”

He leans back, looking up at the ornate chandelier. “What if that day was sooner than you thought?”

Confusion marrs your features. “What do you mean?”

He smiles cryptically, “There’s a Formula 1 race across the country next week. I sponsor Ferrari. Thought you might like to come with me, see something different for a change.”

You blink, taking a moment to process. “A ... race?”

He nods, “Yes. It’s not freedom but it’s a start.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a glimmer of understanding. “Okay,” you whisper, “Let’s start there.”

***

“The roar of the engines, the energy of the crowd ... there’s quite nothing like it,” your father begins, his usually stern voice tinted with boyish enthusiasm. You find yourself watching him, intrigued by this rare display of passion.

Sitting across the opulent dining table, which was rarely used to host anyone but the two of you, you play with your food, pushing it around the plate. “Cars going in circles? I don’t see the appeal.”

He chuckles, taking a sip of his vintage wine. “Oh, it’s much more than that. The strategy, the risk, the sheer speed ... it’s ballet at 300 kilometers per hour.”

You raise an eyebrow, interest piqued despite yourself. “Ballet? Really?”

He nods with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious now?”

You hesitate. “I mean, maybe a little? But why the sudden interest in taking me? I’ve never even seen you watch a race.”

He leans forward, his gaze intense, searching yours. “I sponsor Ferrari and have an open invite to every race. Now that one will be hosted nearby, I thought maybe it’s time you see a bit more of the world. Not just through the glass windows.”

You blink in surprise. This was unexpected. “A public event? With crowds and other people?”

He nods slowly. “With crowds and other people.”

You weigh the options in your mind, the yearning for freedom battling with the anxiety of exposure. “And you think I’m ready for this?”

He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours. “I think we’re ready for this. It will be an unforgettable experience, I promise.”

You look into his eyes and realize that this is as much a leap for him as it is for you. Taking a deep breath, you reply, “Alright, Papa. Let’s go watch some ballet.”

***

“The red ... it’s everywhere.” You can’t help but blurt out, momentarily overwhelmed.

Your father chuckles beside you. “Well, it is Ferrari. Red is their signature.”

You gaze down, the red soles of your Louboutins now seem almost camouflaged against the vibrant Ferrari decor. “Feels like I’m stepping into another world.”

“Just stay close,” your father advises, his protective instincts rearing up again.

Promising him with a nod, you’re soon lost in the kaleidoscope of sounds and colors. The hustle of engineers, the chatter of excited fans, the roar of engines being worked on.

Suddenly, a man clad in a racing suit accidentally bumps into you, causing your drink to splatter.

“Mon dieu! I am so sorry!” He exclaims, eyes wide.

You find yourself staring not at the stained dress but into the most expressive eyes you’ve ever seen. “It’s ... it’s okay,” you stutter, taken aback by the unexpected jolt of electricity at the brief contact.

He looks genuinely apologetic. “Let me make it up to you? Another drink, perhaps?”

You laugh, “Only if you promise not to spill it.”

He grins, the smile reaching his eyes. “Deal. I’m Charles, by the way.”

Hesitating for a split second, you reply, “Y/N.”

He raises an eyebrow, “No last name?”

You smirk, “Not today.”

Charles chuckles, intrigued. “Alright, Y/N-with-no-last-name, let’s get you that drink.”

You follow him, weaving through the crowd. Every now and then, someone stops Charles to shake his hand or pat him on the back, throwing in a “Good luck, Charles!” or “Can’t wait to see you on the track!” He greets everyone with a genuine smile and a word of thanks. It’s clear just how loved he is here.

However, you remain a mystery to him. He sneaks curious glances your way, the playful teasing evident in his eyes. “So are you a big Ferrari fan or just here because you look particularly fetching in red?”

You laugh, the sound more carefree than you’ve felt in ages. “Let’s just say I’m here to explore something ... different.”

Charles nods, handing you a fresh glass from the bar. The bubbling champagne mirrors the effervescence you feel inside. “Different can be good,” he muses, taking a sip from his own plastic water bottle. “Sometimes it’s the unexpected moments that change everything.”

The weight of his gaze, the intensity of the moment, makes your heart race. “Tell me, Charles,” you begin, leaning in slightly, “What was the unexpected moment that changed everything for you?”

He looks taken aback, clearly not expecting such a question. He takes a thoughtful pause, “Every time I get behind the wheel. Each race is a new story, an unexpected twist waiting to happen.”

You nod, appreciating his sincerity. “It’s brave, you know. Facing the unexpected at such high speeds.”

He smiles warmly. “It’s not bravery, it’s passion. When you love something deeply, risks become challenges instead of threats.”

Your fingers toy with the stem of your glass, his words resonating with your own yearning for freedom. “I envy that,” you admit softly.

Charles tilts his head, studying you. “Why?”

You search for the right words. “I’ve lived in a world of certainty for so long. Every step planned, every move calculated. It’s ... suffocating.”

Charles reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “Then maybe it’s time to take a risk, Y/N-with-no-last-name. Even just a small one.”

You smile, the promise of the unknown beckoning. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time.”

***

“Do you trust me?” Charles’ eyes search yours, intense under the paddock lights.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden question. “We just met.”

He grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That’s not an answer.”

Drawing in a deep breath, you reply, “I might. What are you proposing?”

His gaze drifts momentarily to the track. “After qualifying … how about a drive? Not here,” he adds, seeing your hesitation, “Away from all this. The city at night, the open road. Just two people and the world.”

You tilt your head, contemplating the offer. A spark of excitement ignites within you. “A midnight drive with a stranger? Sounds reckless.”

He chuckles, leaning in closer. The scent of leather and adrenaline wraps around you. “Life’s best moments usually are.”

As his name is called by his press officer, Charles straightens up. “I have to go. But think about it, Y/N-with-no-last-name. The invitation stands.”

Before you can respond, he jots down something on a piece of paper and hands it to you. An address. “Meet me here if you’re in. Midnight.”

You watch him stride confidently towards his garage, the weight of the decision pressing on you. Risk, freedom, the open road — its all you’ve always yearned for.

Hours later, as Charles places his car on pole, you find yourself gripping that piece of paper. The thought of the city lights and the wind through your hair is too alluring to resist.

You whisper to yourself, “Midnight it is.”

***

The ornate curtains rustle as you inch your way onto the balcony of your suite. The sheer drop below sends a thrilling chill down your spine. You’ve never snuck out before but the thought of the night ahead and Charles’ invitation propels you forward. You hitch up your dress, carefully lowering yourself onto the ledge below. The soft grass cushions your landing and you take a moment to steady your racing heart.

“You’re even crazier than I am,” a familiar voice observes from the shadows.

You whirl around, finding Charles leaning against his car, an impressed grin on his face. “I had to make a discreet exit,” you explain, cheeks warming.

He chuckles, pushing away from the car and walking over to you. “Glad you made it. Ready for our adventure?”

You nod, the proximity of him, the thrill of the night, everything heightening your senses. “More than ever.”

The car roars to life as you both settle in. The city lights blur past, the nocturnal beauty of the world unfolding around you. The road beckons, the possibilities endless.

Charles casts a sidelong glance at you, a playful smirk on his lips. “Ever driven with no speed limit?”

You laugh, “Not in my daily commute.”

He grins, “There’s a first time for everything.”

The car accelerates, the wind whipping through your hair, the night alive with potential. The city skyline fades, replaced by an open stretch of road, illuminated only by the car’s headlights and the soft glow of the moon.

Charles’ voice breaks the comfortable silence. “There’s something freeing about the night. The world sleeps, and for a few hours, you can pretend you’re the only ones alive.”

You glance over, sensing the depth of emotion behind his words. “Is this why you race? For that freedom?”

He nods, his profile bathed in moonlight. “And more. Every time I’m behind the wheel, it’s a battle against my doubts, the world, and myself.”

You understand, the weight of your own gilded cage pressing on you. “I’ve been trapped for so long. But tonight, with you, I feel … alive.”

He reaches over, entwining his fingers with yours. “Then let’s live. For tonight, let’s forget the world.”

***

“Why are those men watching us?” Charles’ voice is low, almost a whisper, as he subtly gestures towards two figures in dark suits, positioned at opposite sides of the bar you found yourselves at.

You follow his gaze discreetly, feeling a familiar dread settling in. Security. Your father’s men. “They’re ... they’re just protective, that’s all.”

Charles narrows his eyes, piecing things together. “Protective? Y/N, who are you really?”

A pang of guilt washes over you. You had hoped for more time before this moment, more stolen moments under the veil of anonymity. “It’s complicated,” you admit, hesitating.

He leans forward, his intense eyes searching yours. “Try me.”

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “My life ... it’s not what it seems. I live in a gilded cage. A cage built by my father’s wealth and influence. A beautiful cage, yes, but a cage nonetheless.”

He processes this, watching as one of the security approaches your table, handing you a phone. “Your father wishes to speak with you,” the man says tersely.

Charles’ gaze sharpens, suspicion evident. “Your father?”

You nod, taking the phone with a sigh. “Hello, Papa.”

“Y/N,” your father’s voice is a mix of relief and sternness, “I’ve been so worried. You just disappeared.”

“I needed some time,” you explain, glancing apologetically at Charles who is watching the exchange closely.

“You should come back now.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” you argue gently, “I need to live my life.”

A heavy silence follows. “Just ... be safe,” he finally murmurs.

Hanging up, you face Charles, the weight of the world pressing on you. “I’m sorry, I should have told you sooner.”

Charles leans back, his expression unreadable. “So, the mysterious Y/N-with-no-last-name turns out to be the daughter of …?”

You sigh, “A very wealthy and overprotective man.”

He processes this, the playful teasing from before replaced by deep contemplation. “You know, secrets have a way of catching up with us. But,” he adds with a hint of a smile, “I’m interested in who you are, not your family name.”

You smile, relief washing over you. “Then let’s leave the secrets for another day.”

***

The morning sun paints the Ferrari garage in a wash of golden hues, every glinting reflection a dance of radiant red. Charles stands out despite wearing the same color as he eagerly waves you over to show off the helmet in his hands.

“It’s beautiful.” Your fingers trace the lines of the design, the light catching on its glossy finish.

Charles spins the helmet so you can see every detail. “Not just the design. It’s the weight, the feel. When I put this on, I’m stepping into another world. Everything else fades away. Just the track, the car, and me.”

You smile, fascinated by his passion. But as your gaze slides over the helmet, you freeze. There, emblazoned on the side, is the unmistakable logo of Y/L/N Industries. You try to hide your surprise but Charles catches your reaction. “You recognize the logo?”

Swallowing hard, you nod. “It’s … everywhere, isn’t it?”

Charles, not picking up on your unease, grins. “Oh yes. They’re our main sponsors this season. Y/L/N Industries is massive.”

Your heart thuds. Every mention, every hint, makes the looming truth harder to avoid. “They seem ... impressive.”

You avoid his gaze, watching the mechanics prepare the cars for the race. Each Ferrari, shining in the morning sun, proudly displays the same Y/L/N Industries logo. There’s no escaping it.

Noticing your distraction, Charles follows your gaze. “I’ve always found it fascinating. How brands link up with teams. How they can become synonymous with each other over the years. Like what we had with Marlboro and now Y/L/N Industries. It’s ... an alliance.”

You chuckle, trying to deflect. “An expensive alliance.”

He laughs, “Very true. But Y/L/N Industries is more than just a name on our cars. I met the owner once, at a sponsorship event. Very ... protective of his interests.”

You gulp, feeling cornered. “Is that so?”

Charles nods, oblivious to your discomfort. “Yes. Has a daughter too, I’ve heard. But she’s kept away from the limelight. Must be hard, living under such a powerful shadow.”

Your voice is barely a whisper, “You have no idea.”

He looks at you, sensing the weight behind your words. “Y/N?”

Taking a deep breath, you finally admit, “My last name ... it’s Y/L/N.”

He stares, processing the revelation. The playful driver you spent the past days with is replaced by someone more cautious, more guarded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look down, fighting back tears. “I wanted to be just Y/N, not a Y/L/N. I wanted freedom, even if just for a few days.”

Charles reaches out, lifting your chin gently. “You're still Y/N to me. But secrets ... they complicate things.”

You nod, regret clear in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles, though it’s not quite as bright as usual. “Let’s focus on today. The race. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

***

You’re startled from your thoughts when the doors to your room burst open, the journal in which you’ve been scribbling memories of your secret meetings with Charles slipping from your fingers.

Your father stands there, a mixture of anger and desperation etching his features. In his hand, he holds a photograph — one of you and Charles lost in conversation in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

“Explain this,” he demands, voice shaking.

You swallow hard, the weight of your secret outings pressing down on you. “Papa, I—”

He cuts you off, waving the photograph. “Weeks, Y/N! Weeks you’ve been sneaking around, meeting him. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Your voice trembles, “I just want something for myself, something real.”

He looks torn, battling between his desire to protect you and understanding your need for freedom. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you hesitate, taking a deep breath, “I want to be just Y/N for once, not Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Don’t you see? That’s exactly why I protect you! The world will never see just Y/N. They will always see a Y/L/N and they will always want something from you.”

“You can’t keep doing this!” The words burst out of you before you can stop them, the pent-up frustration, fear, and yearning for freedom all culminating in this very moment.

Your father stands at the opposite end of the lavish living room, the city skyline a muted backdrop behind him. His eyes, usually so authoritative, are wide with surprise and concern. “I am only looking out for you.”

You shake your head, your voice trembling. “Looking out for me or controlling me?”

He flinches as if you physically struck him. “I want to keep you safe.”

Safe. The word hangs heavily between you, a reminder of the invisible chains binding you. “At what cost, Papa? My happiness? My freedom?”

He sighs, running a hand through his graying hair. “It’s not that simple.”

You pace the room, your emotions spilling over. “Do you even realize? Every choice, every decision has been made for me. Who I meet, where I go, even what I feel. I am suffocating!”

He looks pained. “I never meant to—”

“But you did!” You interject, tears streaming down your face. “Every time you made a choice for me, you took away a piece of my life.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the unspoken words and regrets creating an impenetrable barrier.

Finally, your father speaks, his voice soft and filled with sorrow. “I lost your mother. I can’t bear the thought of losing you too.”

Your heart aches, understanding and resentment warring within. “I’m not Mama. I need to live, make mistakes, find love. I need to be free.”

He closes his eyes tightly, the weight of your words pressing down on him. “I just ... I love you so much.”

You walk over, taking his hands in yours, feeling the roughness of age and experience. “And I love you. But love isn’t about possession. It’s about understanding, trust, and letting go.”

Tears brim his eyes, the facade of the powerful businessman crumbling. “You will always be my little girl. I would give up every dollar — everything — if it meant keeping you safe. I’m scared that one day I won’t be able to protect you.”

You squeeze his hands. “We have to face our fears. Together.”

***

“He knows. Papa knows about us.” Your voice wavers as you meet in your secret hideaway, a small bakery tucked away from prying eyes.

Charles’ face pales, his fingers gripping the table edge. “How did he react?”

You draw in a shuddering breath, recalling the confrontation. “Not well. He feels... betrayed. I think I got through to him eventually but you never know with him. One second he’s smiling at a business rival and the next he’s snatching away their company in a hostile takeover.”

Charles’ eyes darken with concern. “I don’t want you caught in the crossfire between me and Y/L/N Industries.”

You shake your head, reaching out to touch his hand. “This isn’t about sponsorships or racing. This is about us. He’s just overprotective.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples. “This complicates things. Your father’s influence runs deep, even in the racing world.”

Tears sting your eyes. “So what? Are you saying we should …?”

“No,” Charles interjects firmly, squeezing your hand. “I’m saying we need to be careful. I won’t let anything harm you.”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “My father would never hurt me … at least not physically. It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”

He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I do have a penchant for driving really fast cars. Comes with a touch of danger.”

You’re not amused. “This is serious. Papa can be ... vindictive.”

Charles looks deep into your eyes. “Then we face this together. Secrets have kept us apart but now, truth will keep us together.”

You lean in, your foreheads touching. “Promise?”

He smiles, capturing your lips in a kiss. “Promise.”

***

A reporter leans forward, her voice crackling with excitement. “Charles, you just secured a stunning victory for Ferrari in a race that almost everyone thought was Red Bull’s to lose. How does it feel to come out on top?”

Charles grins, his eyes alive with a fire that burns brighter than ever. “Honestly, it’s hard to describe. We’ve been pushing ourselves, refining the car, and today, everything just clicked. The team’s effort, the car’s performance, it all paid off.”

The crowd cheers, their elation echoing through the broadcast. The reporter presses on, “You dedicated this win to someone special. Care to tell us who?”

Charles’ gaze softens, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “There’s someone who has shown me a world beyond the track. Someone who made me realize that the freedom I feel whenever I get behind the wheel is even more precious than I always thought. This win is for her.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, the identity of this mysterious someone a topic of speculation. The reporter smiles, clearly eager for more details. “And can you give us a hint? Is she here today?”

Charles chuckles, his dimples popping through. “Let’s just say she’s closer than you might think.”

Later, as the celebrations continue, you find yourself in a secluded corner of the motorhome, away from the clamor of the team and fans. Charles walks over, that same victorious smile on his lips. “Did you hear?”

You nod, heart still racing. “You dedicated the win to me.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. “Of course. You’ve given me one more reason to keep pushing, keep racing. It’s not just about the cars. It’s about the freedom, the moments we steal away from the world.”

Tears well up in your eyes and you kiss him passionately, pouring all your emotions into that single moment. The crowd may not know the truth behind his dedication yet but you do. And that’s all that matters.

***

“Charles seems ... different than the others,” your father begins, his gaze distant as he looks out from the penthouse balcony.

You step closer, the night air cool against your skin. “Different how?”

He sighs, turning to face you, vulnerability evident in his eyes. “He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He looks at you how I used to look at your mother.”

You smile, “I never expected you to notice.”

He chuckles softly. “Just because I’m protective doesn’t mean I’m blind. I’ve watched people all my life. It’s how I built everything,” he gestures towards the sprawling city below, the twinkling lights of his corporate empire.

The weight of the moment settles between you, the years of misunderstandings and unspoken words pressing down. “Papa, I know you’re scared. Scared of the world out there, of what it might do. But I can’t be trapped forever.”

His expression softens, pain evident. “I have seen so much, faced so many betrayals. The world is rarely kind.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “I understand. But holding on too tight will only push me away.”

He closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “It’s just ... hard. Watching you grow, wanting to spread your wings. I wish I could shield you from everything.”

You smile gently. “But then I wouldn’t truly be living. Charles, he’s shown me a world beyond these walls. A world that’s unpredictable, thrilling, and real.”

Your father nods slowly. “I saw that. The way he stood by you, the way he spoke of you. He … he loves you.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, the night’s chill deepening. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Someone who sees me, not my last name, not a walking dollar sign.”

He steps closer, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “I’m trying. It’s not easy, letting go. But I trust you. I just need time.”

You nod, resting your head against his chest. “I know. Just promise me one thing.”

He tilts your chin up, looking into your eyes. “Anything.”

You smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “Trust him too. Give Charles a chance.”

He sighs, the walls he built over the years slowly crumbling. “For you, I’ll try.”

***

“I’ve been waiting for this moment,” your father says, breaking the tense silence that envelops the extravagant dining room.

Charles, sitting straight-backed and visibly anxious, clears his throat. “Sir, I assure you, my intentions with Y/N are—”

Genuine laughter interrupts him. You glance in shock at your father, who chuckles, “Relax, Charles. I’ve watched you on the track. You face challenges head-on. That’s a quality I admire.”

Charles exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. Y/N means the world to me.”

Your father studies Charles, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see that. And I have seen the change in Y/N since she met you.”

You bite your lip, waiting for what he might say next. “Papa, I—”

He raises a hand, silencing you. “I’ve spent my life building walls around you, trying to protect you from the world. But maybe ... maybe it’s time to let you fly.”

Your heart leaps in your chest. “Papa …”

He smiles at you, warmth shining in his eyes. “You’re my daughter. All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness. If Charles is the one who brings that joy, then I give you both my blessing.”

Tears glisten in your eyes as you stand, moving to embrace your father. “Thank you.”

Charles stands too, extending a hand towards your father. “Thank you, sir. I promise to take cherish and take care of her.”

Your father grasps Charles’ hand for a moment longer than expected, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Charles,” he begins, a twinkle of mischief evident, “just remember … if you ever hurt my daughter, they will never find your body.”

Charles gulps, eyes widening, then realizes the playful tone your father has adopted. He chuckles, nodding, “Duly noted, sir.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Papa, you are impossible.”

Your father grins, the atmosphere significantly lighter. “Just making sure he understands.”

Charles playfully raises his hands in surrender. “Message received loud and clear.”

***

The pitter-patter of little feet echoes through the grand halls, accompanied by peals of laughter. The once silent mansion is now alive with the exuberance of youth. Every corner and every room tells tales of play and joy, of childhood memories being crafted.

“Slow down, my darlings!” You call out in amusement as you chase the energetic duo.

Charles laughs as one of your kids hides behind him, tiny hands clutching his leg. “You can’t hide here forever!” He teases.

From the doorway, your father watches, his eyes glassy. The stoic businessman, the guardian of a vast empire, is rendered soft and vulnerable by the presence of his grandchildren.

“Grandpa!” The children cheer, running to him, their arms outstretched.

He bends down, scooping them into a gentle embrace. “I have a surprise for you,” he whispers, producing a small cage with a golden canary inside from behind his back. Its wings barely beat, eyes darting around to mirror its trapped spirit.

The children’s eyes widen in wonder. “Why is it in a cage, Grandpa?”

Your father looks up, meeting your gaze, the weight of the past reflected in his eyes. “It looked sad at the market, just like someone I once knew. But we’re going to set it free.”

Together, the family moves to the balcony. Your father opens the cage door, and the canary, after a hesitant moment, takes flight, its song a melody of freedom and hope.

As you watch the bird disappear into the horizon, your father breaks the silence. “Sometimes, we cage the things we love, thinking it’s for the best. But true love is about letting go, letting them spread their wings.”

You lean into Charles, his arm wrapping around you, the children nestled between you both. “Thank you, Papa,” you whisper. “For letting us learn the true meaning of freedom.”

Your father smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It took me a while but I finally understand. Love, life, freedom — they’re all interconnected. We just have to find our sky.”

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in-class-daydreams · 7 days

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Hello!! I love your Ex husband Gojo au, your world building & character dynamics are so fun to experience as a reader! 🥰

I realize that this is a non canon plot lol (with sukuna not being the villain), but I do wonder! How would reader + Sentaro react to satoru being sealed?

Imagine ex-husband Gojo shouting, "No, don't!" as you sprint towards him just as the prison realm is closing.

The two of you had decided long ago - before Sen was even born - that Sen's childhood, his happiness, his safety would always come first. Even above each other.

Sen was strong and in good hands. Besides. Your son may not have known this, but you've always been on the impulsive side.

On this day, you'd break a second promise to Satoru. The first being "to have and to hold, as long as you both shall live."

You dive towards your ex-husband and wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders.

There is an incredible pressure in the air, like fast submerging in deep water. Then, the clattering of bones. Something scrapes your shin, which you kick away until Satoru takes hold of you and rotates your bodies until you're on top of him.

It's dark in the prison realm, but you can make out the silhouettes of skeletons surrounding you. Satoru is on his back, his infinity maintaining a wide berth around the two of you.

You stare at him in disbelief. This was another world entirely apart from "impulsive." Now, Sen is without either of his parents for who knows how long. Satoru, for his part, looks at you with understanding, if not a bit exasperation. He gets comfortable beneath you, not seeming to care about the dire situation you were in.

But the worst part is the implication.

After over a decade of divorce, you'd still follow him anywhere?

As for the Sen part of this ask, I couldn't think of a way to show his reaction that doesn't require a lot of words, but it sums up to him being very scared/angry that something could contain not just one, but both of his parents!

Even though the Sen-verse is, as you said, a non-canon plot, I do love thinking about little AUs of the AU, so thank you for the ask!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

#gojo sentaro #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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art-of-the-sea · 7 months

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Cookie Run: Facets of Knowledge AU

[pt: Cookie Run: Facets of Knowledge AU]

" The Virtue of Knowledge holds two sides to it; Truth and Deceit. Only together can they truly understand its depths. "

Not so much a complete AU as a likely canon divergence, this 'verse is set after Dark Enchantress's defeat. Her attempt to free the Beasts from their eternal prison by creating new bodies for them ended catastrophically. The only way to keep them all at bay was to seal them within the Soul Jams carried by each of the Ancients, as well as within their own bodies. This came with its benefits and drawbacks- after all, the threat has been tamed for as long as the Ancients remain uncorrupted. Not only that, but the reuniting of the Soul Jams' other halves magnified the Ancients' power beyond imagining- as its main holders, it's all in their control now, out of reach of the Beasts.

The complications, of course, come with the continued presence of the Beasts within the Ancients. They may not have any powers, no, but they can certainly be heard by the Ancients they've been sealed within - even seen as a projection of the Soul Jam's magic. Pure Vanilla Cookie knows he's in no danger from Shadow Milk Cookie as long as he doesn't mentally give in to his lies. However, that doesn't stop the comments, the perspectives, or the presence he brings. Sealed together, they have to learn to understand each other deeper than either expected, and slowly, each begin to open their eyes to the other's views and experiences.

More details & doodles below the cut! ⤵️

- Shadow Milk Cookie can project himself outwardly into the world using the Light of Truth, but in almost all cases, the only one that can see, hear, or feel him is Pure Vanilla Cookie. This leads to quite a few reactions to seemingly "nothing" from the outside, which took a long while for the other cookies around him to get used to.

- Shadow Milk gets bored very often due to not having a physical body or the ability to interact with most cookies, so he often resorts to pestering Pure Vanilla in one way or another. PV found that ignoring him only makes it worse, so he'll often engage in giving hypothetical answers to SM's ridiculous lines of questioning. This tends to result in either an absurdly niche philosophy discussion or a yes-and fantasy lasting on-and-off for days.

- Distrust is rampant between the two, of course, which is beneficial for neither of them. Pure Vanilla is convinced Shadow Milk wants nothing but to control Earthbread once more, and SM thinks PV wants nothing more than to lock him away somewhere dark and eternal. Both are partially right, but they are forced to learn the depths of the others' perspective and understand how their defining traits are reflections of each other, stemming from the same place.

- Because of this, they slowly begin to understand each other. To trust each other. To let down the walls, because really... Who else would ever be able to comprehend them like the other?

- Pure Vanilla still refuses to trust him enough to let Shadow Milk take control of the body, though. After all, control of the body would hypothetically mean control of the Soul Jam, and he can't let himself risk the fate of Earthbread once more. Sure doesn't stop SM from pestering, begging, bargaining, and more to try!

- Arguments are surprisingly rare, because if both of them get too deep into their heated debate, they get uncomfortably close to the reality of how similar they are to each other; this tends to make them back off.

- Both of them also feel this discomfort when the other is genuinely feeling mentally unwell, as viewing the other's complexity reflects on their own they wish to conceal. This can result in an awkward attempt to cheer the other up or help the situation, if nothing else to simply remove the shared disconcertion.

(If anybody's honestly interested in learning details for this AU, send in an ask! I might even draw doodles for the replies. this au is also where this sorta popular doodle comes from)

Bonus:

me too gingerbrave

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #cookie run au #cookie run art #shadowvanilla #deceitvanilla #vanilla milkshake #purelily will be implied but not the focus for now #hes polyamorous because i say so #digital art #fanart #our art #prism art #facets of knowledge au

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saltandfire-blog · 23 days

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All Time Favorite Lucemond Fics

Thought I’d post some baddies to help us heal from this last season.

ñuhon - When Lucerys lives and wakes up to oblivion, Aemond decides that—more than an eye for an eye—Lucerys in his entirety would be for Aemond to completely own.

In other words: Omega Lucerys survives yet loses his memories, and Alpha Aemond takes his revenge on him creatively.

Holy fuck, this might actually be one my favorite fics of all time. INCREDIBLY well written and perhaps one of the most tragic/romantic lucemond pieces I’ve ever read. I also find myself adoring the Daeron/Joffrey dynamic that is unexpectedly thrown in that I didn’t know I wanted.

all I had to give - Lucerys has waited for Aemond to find him again since his fall. He is only surprised it took this long.

I think this was technically my first a/b/o lucemond verse fic that blew my heart away. Aemond and Luke’s portrayal in this might actually be my favorite. And the added Alysmond is a +❤️

real gods require blood - Before King Viserys I Targaryen draws his last breath, the Greens make their move. Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family find themselves prisoners in the Red Keep, cut off from their dragons and at the mercy of a new king.

Terrified of what fate awaits his family, Lucerys Velaryon turns to the only person at court willing to help him, no matter the price he has to pay.

Or: Lucerys offers himself in exchange for his family’s safety. Aemond could never refuse.

Not only is this fucking incredible to read, it might be my favorite smutty fic out there. The dialogue between Aemond and Luke just hits sooooo amazingly, this is one of those fics I go back to regularly to reread. I await the authors part 2 of this with baited breath!

Consanguinity - When the bastard Addam of Hull claims Seasmoke, it throws House Velaryon into disarray. All except Corlys, who spies the perfect opportunity to help his heir out of the delicate situation he has found himself in with an impromptu suggestion.

Though quite why Prince Aemond seems so affronted by the match is anyone’s guess.

Speaking of fics I go back to reread - this is definitely another one!! @nashiriel is an absolutely incredible writer and I can’t wait to see where she goes with this! I don’t like to spoil other people’s work…but I love a pregnant Lucerys a/b/o verse with a deliciously angsty twist ❤️

Divenire - Lucerys survives Storm's End however now he needs to survive Aemond, his obsession over a debt paid and the Dance of the Dragons.

This is one of the first Lucerys/Aemond fics that blew my mind. Is it insanely demented and toxic? Yes. Is it amazingly well written? YES! You decide if it’s your cup of tea, but I always return back to this one every once in a while when I want a pure hate no happy ending fic.

Heir of the Tides series - In 120 AC, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye to his nephew. In 129 AC, he demands the price to be paid.

Later on, Lucerys Velaryon will tell his mother that it was a fair exchange. (or, the author went out and wrote the eye fic she so wanted to read).

I admit, I am an absolute sucker for the idea of Luke taking his own eye out. Add on top of that a Luke who takes more of a role in his Velaryon inheritance - and can’t forget the battle of the Gullet 🤌🏻 !! Definitely a series to invest in.

Life for life, eye for eye - Aemond finds his nephew, somehow surviving the death of his dragon over Shipbreaker Bay, washed ashore, an empty socket where his right eye should be. The message, to Aemond, is obvious: the gods have given Luke to him, to do with him as he sees fit.

Meanwhile, when Luke wakes up, prisoner to his uncle, his world quickly narrows to one thing and one thing alone: surviving, so he can return to his mother, and the rest of his family, alive.

In which Aemond surpasses Daemon for title of 'worst uncle' by several miles and Luke suffers.

Ok so please beware, this is about as dark as it gets. If you’re triggered easily, this isn’t the fic for you. It explores extreme Lima and Stockholm syndrome forsure, but if you’re into this ship I’m sure you must know it consists of a broad spectrum of very dark, toxic fics, and this is one that just so happens is amazingly well written. Please keep in mind, if you don’t like, don’t fucking read.

Portrait of a Prince on Fire - Ser Luke Strong, legitimised bastard of the lord of Harrenhal, has found favour at the sumptuous court of Viserys I as a court painter. But he is also Lucerys Waters, unacknowledged bastard of Princess Rhaenyra of Dragonstone. The secret of his true parentage and the life he could’ve had eats him up, and he drowns his regrets in drink and brawling.

Prince Aemond hasn’t been seen outside court since he lost his eye, over a decade ago. Now he is about to be wed — and the king commissions Luke to paint the portrait that will be sent to Aemond’s betrothed.

They hate each other at first sight — but as Viserys lies dying, the portrait sets them on a collision course that will send them spiralling inexorably together. And as the realm descends into war, they will have to decide whether to hold on to each other as the world they knew begins to shatter.

Another fic I am completely obsessed with! @fruitageoforanges has probably written one of my all time favorite portrayals of Aemond and I love the refreshing take on Lucerys I’ve never seen done before in this ship. A 17th century AU that has an awesome amount of fashion I adore and is an absolute must read 😉❤️

Star-Crossed - Lucerys is taken captive by the Greens after his fall. When Aemond is assigned as his constant guard, and so constant companion, the romance that blooms between them spins the Dance of the Dragons on its head.

Or: two young lovers from rival factions of the royal family come together in a violent world.

I can’t list off lucemond fics without giving this one an honorable mention.

Dirección de la Luz - A decade had passed since Hwa Yeong was exiled from Yin. He had traveled through the entire empire three times and still had not found his death.

Until one day he met the dragon prince.

Or: Pregnant and solely with the company of his dragon Arrax, Lucerys Velaryon travels to the Yi Ti Empire and begins a new life away from his family and Aemond Targaryen.

A fic published in Spanish, but there is a translated version linked or you can translate yourself as I found myself doing because this story drew me in SO hard I couldn’t wait for the translator to update lol. This is such an original idea and SO fascinating to read with the authors portrayal of Yi Ti culture with such amazing detail!! I can’t give this author enough praise and encouragement to keep going!

the beast you’ve made of me - Lucerys Velaryon is no coward. He is frightened. He is alone. He is a bastard. He is a prisoner of a war he would do anything to stop. But he is no coward.

Lucerys survives Shipbreaker Bay. Aemond is baptised in the storm. This is the aftermath.

If you want Team Green Lucerys, this is your story. When you have to join the enemy to save your family with long term goals, Luke really goes through it in this one, but the political seesaw between his love for Aemond and his family is fabulous to read unfold 🤌🏻

Hope I’ve given you guys some beauties to read if you haven’t already 💎🗡️🩸

Lucemond is a beautiful, terrible place 😉

(Tried to @ as many as I could that are here on tumblr)

#lucemond #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #fire and blood #lucemond favorites #lucerys velaryon x aemond targaryen #lucemond fanfiction #lucerys x aemond #remember: don’t like don’t read!#hotd fanfic #house of the dragon fanfiction #asoiaf fanfiction

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dlartistanon · 5 months

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Shining and Nightingale: Connection, Plot Beats, and How Their Story Makes (Even) More Sense If You Read It As Romantic

Introduction

Belonging to the Followers faction, Shining and Nightingale were among the first 6* operators introduced at launch. With damage mitigation as their niche, Shining is a single-target medic who specializes in reducing incoming physical damage, while Nightingale is an AoE medic whose specialty lies in reducing incoming Arts damage. This post will delve into everything we know about them and how it's so gay, oh my god

Design Analysis

Upon first glance, you notice how they compare and contrast each other visually: Shining is dressed mostly in black, Nightingale in white. Shining has long, thin white horns that gently jut outwards, while Nightingale has thick, black horns that fold inwards. Shining keeps her hood on by default, giving her a mysterious and secretive appearance. She has dark brown eyes, Liz has light blue ones. Shining’s outfit is tattered and ragged, really giving off the vibe of a wanderer (a “roaming doctor”, as she puts it), in stark contrast to Nightingale’s clean and put-together attire. If you squint, Shining almost looks like a harbinger of death, whereas Nightingale is angelic. Both of them wear the insignia of the Followers, a Terran version of the Caduceus. Shining wears it on a necklace (and is the actual leader), while Nightingale has it etched onto her clothes. One of the black straps on Nightingale’s outfit also reads “The path to light is dark”.

The predominant colors in both their respective skins are the complementary blue and orange. Just as black and white are opposed, so is the contrast between blue and orange. Within Shining's Silent Night, there are flickers of red-orange accents in the form of crystals, while in Nightingale's Elegy, there is the vibrant blue of her bluebird and its wings/feather. Despite Shining’s skin being a summer/beach outfit, the overall atmosphere is foreboding, given the moonlit background, presence of crows/ravens, and color choices. The backdrop in Nightingale’s is very characteristic of Gothic settings.

The strongest theme tying both their designs (and stories) together is The Gothic, an atmosphere and aesthetic best exemplified and symbolized by moody, somber colors (often black) and the gnarled, twisted branches of dead trees found in both their designs, as well as pertinent cast. (We will discuss more on their narrative ties to The Gothic)

Nightingale is featured (alongside Myrrh) in the song “Spring’s Pulse”, while Shining’s song is called “Winter Absolution”. Spring and Winter are opposing seasons, different times in which life either flourishes or hibernates. Green and red (as well as blue and red) are contrasting colors, highlighting life and death. As well as white and black, often symbolic of purity and sin.

Additionally, one of the Latin verses in Shining's song translates to:

"Sing, my tongue, redemption. Of my flesh, the mystery sing. Of the blood, all price exceeding. Shed by my immortal being. Destined for the world's redemption. From a noble womb to spring."

Profiles/Voice Lines

For the longest time, the most we could gather from their past was that Nightingale was a victim, a prisoner, forced to heal others while captive and that Shining had rescued her before they came to Rhodes Island. She has a host of ailments that mere Oripathy can't be the sole cause for, including amnesia. Through other clues, we eventually learn that Shining had a connection to someone called "Confessarius" ("Confessarii" when referring to a group), something she is noticeably evasive and uncomfortable about.

Later, the mystery slowly began to unravel as many theorized that Shining herself was involved with Nightingale's imprisonment, evidenced by Liz drawing the similarities between Shining and her captors. A shared past dripping with intrigue.

It was these seeds that provided a tantalizing story of atonement, of redemption, from someone who had committed a terrible transgression against another, complacent in her pain and suffering, whom she eventually grew to care about--so much so that Shining decided to sever all ties to her former compatriots, slaughtering many and freeing Nightingale, running away together. Shining, disgusted with her actions, spending the rest of her life atoning for her sins, of which she feels she can never be forgiven for.

The juxtaposition of Shining, unyielding with her sword, covered in the blood of her once-fellow Confessarii, and her being exceedingly gentle with Nightingale as she leads her to someplace safe, away from that room, her captors, that tower, where they (she) can’t hurt Liz ever again. The fanon that Shining was complicit in what made Nightingale the way she is, and that she is currently atoning for those sins, was largely embraced by fans.

Nightingale’s Operator Record #1 - A Song and a Blue Feather

The Op Rec is a good showcase of the Followers dynamic (with Liz as the Lady and her two knights), but it also serves to show more of Liz's personality. We only get a very baseline interpretation of who she is as a person via her official file, but seeing her interact with Nearl and Shining gives us a clearer picture of just how strong-willed she is. She goes against Shining's warnings in order to soothe the pain of an Infected child, particularly because his father was inadvertently exacerbating his condition through what Liz calls "a cage of love" (foreshadowing?).

Throughout, we learn more about Liz's Arts, specifically that they give her empathic qualities and come with the drawback of shortening her lifespan every time she heals. The game-breaking ability to reverse Oripathy symptoms comes with equivalent exchange. Liz takes on the pain of others in order to make them feel better.

Near the end of the record, Liz asks if Shining is mad and to not blame Nearl for helping her. Shining's original call to avoid the town was born out of being concerned with Liz's health, but she admits that she should've respected Liz's decision. This is a stance that we then see get repeated in their future appearances in both side stories and the main plot--Shining prioritizing giving Liz agency, when she previously had none. Even when it results in Liz's condition worsening, something that Shining struggles with accepting at the same time, communicated through her asking Liz if her feeling more pain was necessary.

Nightingale’s Module #1 - Closed Hope

The module basically states outright that Nightingale views herself as a burden for having to rely on Shining and Nearl to help her navigate through life. This is another example of Liz's strong-willed personality peeking through.

"But for me, results speak loudest. Because I endured a little more pain, others can be born anew. This is very good. But… if I could be like ordinary people, without this physical pain, that spark of hope in my heart would surely shine a little bit brighter. Unfortunately, as I am now, I can only rely on others to survive. Like a light crystal in a lantern. Even if the lantern door is open, even if the light can bring warmth to others, the crystal itself is still fixed inside. It is fixed there, because it has no ability to move on its own. 'Nightingale, Nightingale––' I hope that one day, I will also be able to spread my wings and fly… just like the bird next to me. 'Nightingale, wake up already––' Until then, I must impose upon them yet more to take care of me.

...

'What's the matter, Shining?'"

In her Op Rec, she had even told Shining that if her legs had cooperated with her, she would not have asked Nearl for help, and that she would've gone out to heal that boy on her own. It's letting us know that she longs to be independent, and that she can't idly sit by as a passive observer when she has the ability to help others. Liz won't even let her own disabilities stop her from doing what she wants.

It's not a coincidence how Shining's presence in her module is represented by the analogy Liz uses to describe her predicament. Shining rescued her = the cage door is open. However, the crystal itself can't move = Liz's debilitating condition. Shining played her part in putting Liz in the cage to begin with. Shining is not only her savior, caretaker, and companion, there's a darker undercurrent as well.

Near Light

In Maria Nearl, Nightingale and Shining get a brief mention and cameo around the time Nearl crashes into the Major stadium. A connection can be made with Liz's Op Rec in which we evidently see that she and Nearl have a more physical (and arguably openly affectionate) dynamic compared to Liz and Shining. Before Nearl leaves to help her sister, we a get a brief look into her and Liz's parting conversation, in which Nearl assures Liz that she'll be okay and that Liz still has Shining with her.

In Near Light, where they get more screentime, we have the iconic Nearl and Nightingale slow dance underneath the streetlights. In the CG itself, Shining can be seen hanging back, sporting a smile. She calls Liz beautiful unprompted, which results in Liz getting a little bit flustered, already so from dancing with Nearl.

Beyond these instances fleshing out the NearLiz leg of the triangle, it's also a purposeful depiction of Shining intentionally distancing herself from Liz, presumably due to her guilt for her past actions. And how that can be extrapolated into Shining feeling as though she is unworthy to partake in that same kind of intimacy. This self-loathing mentality is once more reflected in Nearl the Radiant Knight's second Module--here's a rough translation:

"I suddenly felt a little regretful - after all, I have always hated my bloodline. I have never tasted the beauty of home and the meaning of family. She deserved to have it all, deserved to be noticed and blessed and I deserved not to be a part of it."

However, at the end of Near Light, we get the scene where Shining makes a decision to go back to Londinium with Nightingale, preparing us for their subplot with Confessarius. This exchange hangs over them like a cloud, as well as further cementing Shining's firm resolve to always remain by Liz's side, no matter her own misgivings about everything else. Even if the rest of the world is muddled in her eyes, the only thing that stays clear and in view, is Nightingale. Nothing else matters more.

Chapter 10-18

The depth of Shining’s feelings for Nightingale is truly something to take note of. "My place is always at your side" is practically a textbook subtextual/indirect confession. "I will always be at your side... for as long as you’ll have me." Because we must know that Liz has a choice. She will not impose her own wants onto Liz. Should the day arrive where Liz no longer wants her, Shining will honor it, as much as it hurts.

The way Shining navigates and conducts her feelings towards Liz in this manner is very reminiscent of the medieval concept of courtly love, which is essentially a kind of romantic love without ever imagining it to go any further. The lack of consummation is not only expected, but ideal. That the love existing in and of itself is satisfying.

The scenes where we see Shining holding back help supplement this reading. It also plays well into how the Followers are basically the "knight in shining armor" idea codified into three individuals with corresponding dynamics. For bonus points, courtly love has ties to spirituality, which coincides with another aspect of Shiningale's story with identity, fate, and their conflict with Confessarius.

The fact that Shining 's most immediate plans for the future all have to do with Nightingale is only the tip of her unending devotion. "I’ll stay with you, and go wherever you want to go, as long as you want me". And for Liz to quickly ask if Shining will come with her wherever she wants to go suggests that the love is reciprocated.

Chapter 11-10

Through a series of revelations, we discover that the current head of the Confessarii is Shining's father, who is possessing the body of her younger brother. And that Nightingale was an experimental subject whose physical body is a construct, making her the equivalent of an artificial human/homunculus.

The whole scene we see just how both Confessarius and Salus view Shining, Nightingale, and their relationship. As randmsapphic puts it, the method in which they talk about Liz as an object with a purpose and that Shining's attachment to her is nothing short of a phase speaks volumes as to how dismissive and strangely self-assured that Shining will come to her senses and do the right/rational thing and bring Liz back to help her. They entertain the notion of saving Liz by way of pushing Shining to return to them, because they are the only ones who can save her. Instead of immediately resorting to threats, they rely on manipulation, pulling the "family" card, preying on and weaponizing Shining's guilt and desire to help Liz. It's not subtle--this dynamic could very easily be seen as the reactions homophobic relatives would have.

In particular, Confessarius's fixation on bloodline purity is insanely creepy and not only comes off as very homophobic, but ableist as well. Him suggesting they can build Liz a new body is coercion to get Shining to obey him (which also implies that he thinks Shining's attraction to Liz is purely physical). Salus emotionally abusing Shining by saying that all of Liz's pain is Shining's fault. Attempting to shame Shining by claiming she abandoned her family for a stranger. Does it not have the vibes of homophobia saying that Shiningale's love/relationship isn't real and will never work?

Chapter 12-10

The way Shining utterly ties her sense of self-worth to Nightingale, literally describing herself as Liz’s sin… she will not refer to Liz with possessive pronouns, but will do it to herself for her. The longing, the guilt, the resolve, the codependency… is incredibly yuri. Back in Chapter 10, Shining has an exchange with the Nachzehrer King where she says the moment she was born, she had carried sin. After the dinner in Chapter 11, she tells a Confessarius soldier (before cutting him down) that she hates herself most of all.

Of all the ways to describe her relationship with Liz, Shining decides on "I am her sin". There is poetry in how she refrains from using any kind of possessive language about Liz. Shining belongs to Liz, but Liz belongs to no one. "I am hers, and she is everything to me". It goes back to how she somewhat keeps her distance despite the overwhelming devotion. "I cannot touch her with these sinful hands".

Shining truly exemplifies devotion. Whoever was responsible for writing Shining’s dialogue is pulling out all sorts of stops to have her express her love for Liz in every way without outright making her say the words "I love Liz".

Chapter 13-9 (unfortunately tumblr has an image limit so i can't cap the entire subchapter; you really should read it yourselves for that delicious Shiningale goodness)

Kal'tsit: The way you look at Nightingale isn't just with compassion. You're not just her doctor—she's healing your fears too. Her body has its issues, but she's a member of the 'Followers', as well as your companion, and not a delicate flower that needs your protection.

Nightingale: I'm fine, Shining. You don't have to look after me so meticulously.

More examples of Liz's strong character! A dynamic becomes even more interesting when the one you thought was less-dependent turns out to desperately need the other. By this point, you should know that Shining places Nightingale incredibly high up her list of priorities. The narrative makes it no secret. They continue to hammer home that, despite being her caretaker, just how much Shining is dependent on Liz. Liz has already internally talked about how she hates having to rely on Shining and Nearl because of her ailments. In her other appearances, she makes it even more apparent with her dialogue. While Shining mends Liz’s aching body, Liz is the one who soothes Shining’s hurting heart.

Confessarius: Poor 'Liz'. She think it's all her fault, because of the momentary kindness you showed her.

When you remember that Liz's Arts make her empathic to pain, it takes on another layer of meaning when she wants to take away Shining's suffering. It's reasonable to assume that Liz also had an attachment to Shining, even if you see it as such because Shining "brought her to life". But the vibe you get from her dialogue shows a strong affection and compassion for Shining. Arguably instinctive, considering the "nature" of who Liz originally was. A wandering spirit, a memory, a soul that was drawn to Shining because she felt her crushing pain and wanted to help her. An intangible presence given life by an achingly lonely and hurt individual.

Another post by randmsapphic suggests that Liz's "childhood memories" of her and Shining were in fact fabrications that Shining had imposed onto Liz, in some desperate attempt to have a connection with another person, which this scene confirms. Shining was so happy with Liz's creation that she quickly became attached to her. Is this a sort of twisted love/affection that was born out of Shining's self-loathing? Or her being born into a very dark and messed up lineage in which her fate is a doomed one, and so she latched onto Liz as a means of escape and a way to feel close to someone? It may have started off as such, but by the time we reach this point, the love grew to be genuine.

Remember in Liz's Op Rec, where she described the father hurting his son by keeping him in a cage of love?

The bluebird losing its strength the farther it travels away from home is a metaphor and reflection for how the Confessarii treat Liz, their experiment. This is the basis for her captivity. Combined with Shining's sudden shift into a cold demeanor when she had previously been warm to Liz, this only served to psychologically and emotionally damage Liz, as well as compound Shining's guilt for having continued to follow the wishes of her family.

At some point, prior to deserting, Shining had wiped Liz's memories, perhaps out of said guilty conscious, or a means to a fresh start, or even her own way to stop Liz from feeling any pain associated with those memories, but she was still afraid of what would happen should Liz recover them, which had been happening little by little. Shining had resigned herself to believing that Liz would hate her, would want nothing to do with her, if she ever found out the truth. She had to wrestle with the very real possibility that attempting to save Liz could mean losing her, or being separated from her. Shining never once saw Nightingale as a burden; she was only ever happy that Liz exists.

Credit to randmsapphic again: Every time Shining draws her sword, it's a viscerally unpleasant reminder of her eventual destiny. It's both the only way to truly free Liz, and is the bind that keeps her shackled to a doomed fate. When Confessarius offers her the sadistic choice between killing him (thus giving up her soul) or return Liz to captivity... what should she do? There is no choice here.

The way Confessarius keeps (creepily) phrasing it as Shining “giving birth” really does paint him to be a disgustingly vile patriarchal figure set on destroying not only Shining’s autonomy, but her life and relationship with Liz. How a woman is treated as an object, her worth limited to only serving as a breeding ground for the next generation. This read continues to make even more sense because remember the Confessarii dinner scene? The way they talked like they expect Shining to come home after having had her fun with Nightingale reeks of how society views lesbian relationships as not real/practice for men/just a phase. The proverbial Class S? Shiningale really is just Arknights-flavored Class S Yuri. If a Shining Alter has her pick up her sword again, it could very well symbolize her reclaiming her bodily autonomy and fighting for her love, and for the chance to have a life outside of what the patriarch(y) wants for her.

The more I read about the Shiningale in Chapter 13, the more I’m thinking that this can’t be anything else but yuri. Even the role Confessarius is playing as a villain/obstacle they have to overcome. A man getting between them by manipulating their feelings for nefarious purposes?

Liz telling Shining that she prefers her current name, how it encapsulates so much of who Shining is as a person; she's not just a means to an end for the Confessarii, she's more than what they've instilled in her since her birth. The Followers are all light-themed, and Shining is no exception. She broke Liz out of her cage and showed her the world. And Liz is the light of Shining's life, as was mentioned all the way back to her voiceline.

Liz telling Shining that she's always loved the name that she gave her... that she holds dear any and every part of Shining that's a part of her. Her gently chastising Shining for making the decision to sacrifice herself to save Liz... Don't give yourself up for me, especially without asking me. That's not what I want. For all the times that Shining made sure Liz knew she had a choice, this was the one time she didn't. Couldn't. And Liz won't have that. Whatever trials that await them, she wants to face them together with Shining.

The way Confessarius described Shining’s feelings towards Nightingale as “your rebellious love for her”. He knew that she would love Liz and factored that into his plan/manipulation of Shining. I don't know about you but… I don’t think there’s any other way to interpret that. No heterosexual explanation.

Realistically speaking, we know actual gay characters can’t make it past the censors unless it’s tragic (see Scavenger) or unrequited (see Tomimi). But Shiningale have like… playable immunity. It’s “implicit” enough to not trigger the censors but at the same time how can you not see it as romantic?

Their relationship is basically up there with Talulah/Alina. And I'd even go so far as to say that it's more explicit than Talulah/Alina. To my knowledge, they never used the word “love” to describe how Talulah felt about Alina. Just "friend". I know there's a point where subtext gets ridiculous enough to become maintext, but then that leads you to question why some get the "friends" label while others are allowed to use "love".

Could it be platonic love? Sure, of course you can love your friends. But would you pledge your entire life to a friend? What's so "rebellious" about loving a friend? (Interestingly, I think the JP translation calls it "immoral love", which is even more eyebrow-raising) Regardless, love exists between Shiningale. Confessarius knew it, and factored it into his schemes. He counted on Shining to love and cherish her. Shining loves Liz, that much is undeniable. And Liz loves her back, enough to stop Shining from sacrificing herself to save her. He's literally weaponizing the love they have for each other.

Shiningale and The Gothic

I had mentioned before that both characters' designs as well as the narrative beats of their story have Gothic literature elements. I want to make a list of the ones I could find that relate to them as characters and as a narrative:

A focus on medical conditions, doppelgangers (the "pure" Confessarii looking like each other), forbidden power/knowledge, the dichotomy between light and darkness, imprisonment, rebellion, isolation/seclusion, gloominess or a gloomy setting, the grotesque/macabre, terror/horror, justice vs revenge, good vs evil, fear and suspense, the supernatural/paranormal, female victims, prophecies/curses/omens, mystery and secrets, involvement of the clergy/religious figures (confessor/absolver of sin), the dead don’t stay dead/hauntings, romanticism

The Gothic hero is “weakened by love”, they either rescue their love interest or pine away in despair

Significance of blood (relations) and inheritance, the duality of giving and denying life

An examination of family structure, patriarchy, hereditary suffering

Dreams/nightmares, memories

Secrets, past sins, sins of the father, darkest deeds

Driven by love, duality of man (appearance)

Dwelling on the melancholy, of wistfulness and regret, but not overcoming kindness

Concept of “othering” from society (Shining split herself away from her blood family to be herself and with Liz, her chosen family

The protagonist’s passionate love is torn between his desire to achieve the beloved and the family’s disapproval, control, and choice. Gothic novels also tell the tales of love in vain. The lovers are parted due to the conspiracies of the people opposing them being together

Gothic sexuality is usually somewhat repressed—women are expected to be pure and somewhat helpless while men are expected to be quietly predatory. It's also patriarchal, with men making moves and women reacting to them

Homosexuality = the love that dares not speak its name. Repressed sexuality, forbidden desire

Female Gothic protagonists are often committed to justice, unwilling to compromise their values, loyal, respectful of others, curious, intelligent and devoted to their faith. Some are gentle, kind, likeable, clever, witty, quiet, supportive, thoughtful, hard-working, independent and strong. Others are courageous, witty, brave, determined, knowledgeable and socially competent. On the flip side, some are also strong-willed and outspoken to a fault. They’re often socially awkward, depressive, melancholy, brooding, solitary and selfish. Some are jealous, fiercely territorial, deceitful, powerless and deceptive. Others, like their male counterparts, are prone to violence

Male Gothic protagonists are often conflicted, solitary, tortured, brooding, and secretive, self-loathing, wracked with guilt, have a self-hate of their own existence

Female-centric Gothic stories often trend towards obscured/anticipated fears, focuses on persecuted women and the domestic space she risks entrapment within/disturbed spaces

Food for Thought

Ryuzakiichi has a knight original character. Tell me... this doesn’t just look like Shining without horns? THE RESEMBLENCE IS UNCANNY.

Knowing this, I'm convinced that he split the concept of a "knight in shining armor" into two characters: Nearl and Shining. Nearl embodies chivalry. Shining embodies devotion.

The followers dynamic can best be summarized as two knights swearing fealty to one lady, but what's interesting is that while Nearl is the most obvious depiction of a knight, it's actually Shining who serves the role even harder, because she is quite literally Liz's knight. Which tracks with how Shining looks nearly like a carbon copy of his OC. She's the one who rescued the princess from her tower, while simultaneously being the "wicked witch" who put her there in the first place. And just like a Gothic hero, is tormented and sees herself as a monster.

Comparison to the main plot of Shadow of the Colossus. The driving force is that Wander commits acts (largely agreed to be treasonous) in order to revive Mono. The relationship between Wander and Mono is left up to interpretation as to whether it's platonic, familial, or romantic, but most fans of the game seem to theorize that Mono is indeed Wander's love interest.

Normally I despise turning the Followers into a nuclear family unit in any direction (especially people saying Liz is a minor and infantilize her to be the designated "child"), but for a moment, seeing Shiningale looking at Nearl’s portrait, my brain interpreted them behaving like Nearl’s (substitute) parents being proud of her accomplishments.

This was not helped by stuff like Shining’s teasing ("Look at you, our knight acting snarky"), Liz asking if she and Shining were also Nearl’s family, and some apparent discussion about Mlynar being a "bad end" Margaret who lost his own light (his brother and sister-in-law, Margaret’s parents).

If Shining and Nightingale are to Nearl as Schnitz and Yolanta were to Mlynar, then that might also explain why he dropped his jerk behavior for one second just to compliment how the two Sarkaz were good for his niece. If Nearl had never met Shining and Nightingale, her own light might’ve gone out too...?

IN CONCLUSION

Shiningale are complementary in so many ways. It really feels like several aspects of their characters are tailor made to match; you can’t have one without the other, their development is tied together… soulmates. Hopefully this post helps encourage you to consider their story in a certain lens if you hadn't before.

To quote a CN post I saw on the matter after Chapter 13 was released (rough translation): "Shining's sword pieced Nightingale's heart, and Liz came alive. Liz's existence helped give Shining emotions. Liz became Shining's redemption. Shining renounced her old name and Liz cherishes hers, a transformation of two people choosing to fight and change their destiny. Although Liz is physically fragile, her spirit and will are very strong. Although Shining has excellent swordsmanship, her self-hate and inner turmoil weigh her down. They are truly complementary in every sense."

They each want to take away the other's pain. Shining doesn't want Liz to die. Liz doesn't want Shining to die for her. They are each other's mutual salvation.

#dl talks ak #arknights #shining #nightingale #tl;dr i'm not saying that romantic love is the true intent for their relationship #but that their story feels more effective if you do interpret it as such #it's a spiritual story about defying fate; but also a very yuri one #the beats of shining's self-hate; a patriarchal antagonist; heteronormative expectations; dismissal of their relationship; etc.#can just as well be applied to yuri; specifically of the 'class s' variety #I FINALLY WROTE IT

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000marie198 · 5 months

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Are there any sonic au’s you would recommend? I am trying to find more to get into so would love to know if you have any favourites out there :D

Hello! Oh there are so many! :D I definitely have some favorites and some which aren't favs but are pretty great.

Putting these under the cut because there are so many! And there's definitely more cool AUs that I haven't seen or haven't saved.

Anyways, please enjoy my personal selection:

Seven Years Too Soon by NightFuchia. Basically what if a much younger Sonic accidentally set Shadow free from Prison Island. It has awesome characterization and happens to be one of my favorite stories. The rest of Team Sonic is also present

Brotherhood's Twist by @/drawloverlala even though I don't think it counts entirely as Au but it still sort of does. Unbreakable Bond ageswitch due to Zeti's meddling.

Passion's @sonic-tangled-au . I love it! So very much. The lore and backstories are so good.

Noonui's World Restored in Imbalanced Chaos au. Extremely engaging and good. Has a bunch of world building and fun concepts and lore.

Sonic's Super Totally Awesome Mixtape, though it seems to be discontinued, I'm not sure. It's pretty good so far! Takes place in the movie verse.

@brainworms-all-night-long is working on a Dreamtale Au which I'm hyped for. The tag in use is 'dreamtale and sonic tomfoolery'.

@/the-starlight-project comic is pretty good too. Mystery! And emotions. So many emotions ough.

And there's @the-emerald-isle-au by @0vergrowngraveyard . Very intriguing. 👀

Please do check out the Pandora Au by @/starrjoy. It's great!

The Fair Folk by Irritable_Fabulamancer, this fic is one of my favorites! Team Sonic as Fae my beloved! I love fae AUs.

On that note, if you're alright wanting to read a Fae!AU which is pretty much a sonadow fic, there is also I don't believe in fairy tales [but I believe in you and me]. Fantasy and Fae! Satbk inspired, another one that had me hooked.

My Arms Are Blue by thekyuubivixen and its unofficial, fan-continuation (My Arms Are Blue! Final Four Edition) by PlaystationPassenger. The story doesn't completely count as an AU but I'm recommending them anyway cuz they're really really good and has that watching your own show from different dimension trope. It's also hilarious and fun.

Burning Arrow, Wildfire Heart by Taranea is SatSR novelisation AU with Sonic's other friends present too, it's pretty fun. Not very accurate regarding the desert but it's a good read and I come back to reread it often. Must read in my opinion. Just don't dare use it as guide for desert travel or you'll be shriveled up in the sand somewhere

This fic. Read it, I will not elaborate this one. Just trust me :]

And don't miss out on @shadofiredragon's Legends Never Die fic. It's a future fic! And an awesome one. I won't spoil much but it is so good. She also has lots of fun AUs in the works.

Down the Foxhole series by MoonlitNightin. Sonic Prime AU series which is great! Tails' pov. The Shatterverses have their own Sonics. Engaging and great.

Feel free to check out @/Son1c's 10verse and other AUs. Those are some pretty great ones. Love the different lore and variants given to the Shatterverses in 10verse.

Spirit of the Wind by TrenchCoatGecko. Satbk inspired fantasy au. Sonamy, has focus on magic and lore and other characters as well.

If you'd like some Forces angst with Unbreakable Bond focus, please do read Illusionary are your arms around me by @nixoon-again. The feels will kill you /pos

Chaos Barren by but_why_not. I forgot to add this earlier (this is an edited addition). Takes place in the Blue Devils AU, great story!

Baby Tails shenanigans by @myymi . Tails got turned into itty bitty infant kit. (And also check @0vergrowngraveyard 'baby tails' tag for more little gremlin scenarios)

Myla is also working on @tails-and-the-ink-machine au

Feral au by Oneshot_bravo. Little short stories or drabbles taking place in Unleashed but the werehog is feral yet keeps his memories. Very lighthearted and fun and cute

Three or more foxes form a skulk by @/chiropter36 . Post Prime au fic, loved it! Go read.

Also, @donelywell 'roadtrip! sonic au' and 'Casino Nights Au'

Haven't yet started reading The Fox's Burrow by @/space-gutz but I'm planning to. Recommending it either way cuz I feel like it's gonna be good. Unbreakable Bond but ageswaped au.

@/sonicchaoscontrol comic. Another in-progress au which is also quite intriguing. Sonic jumps through a portal and exits in future where the planet is a mess. The mystery of what and how it all happened and what's going on slowly unfolds.

The Buzzsaw Dillemma by redpenship. I haven't personally read it myself but I've heard many good things about it, especially it's world building.

Incomplete and won't be updated anymore but if you haven't read them yet, DO NOT miss out on Ghosts of the Future and The Murder of Me fancomics by Evan Stanley (spiritsonic) and Gigi Deutrix (gigi-D) respectively. They're a must read. Both are available on DeviantArt.

The Heart of a Monster comic, @/the-heart-of-a-monster. It's in progress and updates regularly. Unleashed retelling, really really good with some extra lore and everyone involved.

Sometimes the Picket Fence isn’t Perfect and Sharp Edges (Sonic Prime AU) series by @/skimmingthesurfaces. I'm holding off the first one to read later, like that one book you've been saving so I'm not sure if it completely counts as an AU, still putting it in recs, and the second one is intriguing so far. I have heard a lot of good thing about the Picket Fence series.

Dark Boom by Smash50. The entirety of Team Dark in the Sonic Boom universe. Alongside it, there's also Boomtober by the same author.

It Always Snows by the 24th by Selendred had me hooked even though it's a oneshot. Great au and would love to see it explored more.

No One said I Wish by SylWritesStuff. One of my fav stories from the Sonic Platonic Fairytale Week event. It's really funny.

Sonic Phantom Forces (SPF) au comic. Sonic Forces au, blue boy gets taken away but not in the way you think, pretty cool story so far. It's in-progress and available on both Tumblr and DeviantArt. @/spfau

If Black Doom tried to be a better father by Tirainy. Don't take this one seriously. It's pure comedy and I love every second of it. Shadow is having a time for sure XD.

Silent Talkers by @brainworms-all-night-long. Takes place in the Prime Bros verse, feels intensified, all the good ones. A must read, trust me.

And speaking of the Prime Bros AU (in which all Shatterverse foxes also got adopted by Sonic and are now brothers), feel free to scroll through the 'prime bros' tag here. So many awesome posts for this particular au by everyone!

There's so many more, cool ones, epic ones. I haven't saved all and I'm probably forgetting some great ones too so I'm leaving this open for others to add. If y'all have more cool AUs, plz add to these (I wanna check em out too)

....

And now a few from the Fanfiction.net site because it doesn't have much audience compared to AO3 and there are some actual gems hidden there;

Premonition by thekiyuubivixen (not entirely an au but it feels like one due to the unique ability Sonic gains)

The Sonic Project by SconnieSA. Rated M but it's a pretty awesome AU and the rating is due to more serious themes and uncensored language in some parts. Highly recommending this one

Survivor's Resolve by DC111. Not entirely an AU but I must rec this fic it's so good and doea havs some AU vibes.

Sonic the Hedgehog: Attorney of Law by thedraconicwerewolf. Ace Attorney type AU with Sonic and Tails as main characters. Not too adventurous but very very fun and interesting and still managed to keep Sonic in character. Though it has a sequel started, I only rec the main story, not the sequal as it seems to be abandoned and isn't needed to be read like them cliffhanger stories.

beLIEve by Meow21. I have only read snippets from this, waiting for this story to continue but it seems to be discontinued. Felt like an epic story too and deserves to be recommended.

Sonic and the Golden Journey. Sonic gets thrown in another storybook, this time it's a children's classic fairytale. Short but very comedic and fun. Go read it.

Tales of a Samurai. I am begging you to read this one, please it's so good. Also by Taranea.

Wonderful and it's sequal Sanctuary by Inflamore for some Unbreakable Bond angst. (Kindly ignore the obliviousness of earlier ff.net for not knowing the meaning of certain symbols, there's nothing of the sort in story, trust me.)

Regrets by MazzyBooks. A high school au of sorts. Sonic centric with some heavy angst. I'm not kidding about the angst part, trust me. It had me hooked from the first chapter though and I believe it deserves a rec.

You need the cracks (to let the light shine through) by king.needlemouse. Istg this is the most underrated thing I've ever come across, it's one of my absolute favorite fics which I can never forget. Do read it.

Within this Nightmare by sonicfan1990. Sonic get transported to an alternate universe which has gone post apocalyptic and his counterpart in that universe has been dead. Pretty great story, lots of angst and everything.

And that's all I could remember and have saved for now. I'm leaving this open to more AU recs (yes even self plugs are welcome) so if you know any I missed, plz feel free to add. I hope you enjoy all these great AUs!

Thanks for the ask!

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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 year

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If you see Good Omens s2 as a bridge between the end of s1 and a s3 plot that, it seems, will revolve around [spoilers below]

Aziraphale and the second coming (in a parallel to s1 being about Crowley and the Antichrist) then a lot of things make sense, and actually I think this is one of the only routes they could have taken that would seem remotely plausible.

Because how the fuck do you get Aziraphale back in Heaven after the events of s1? Both you (a writer who wrote s1 as a self-contained adaptation of an existing work, having no idea if there would be future seasons) and you (Heaven within the world of the story).

In the book verse, I could see this playing out as a sort of “you thought you were happily retired and then they pulled you back in for one last job” situation, and I think that could have worked. Because book Heaven and Hell seem to end the story basically agreeing to forget Aziraphale and Crowley’s numbers out of sheer embarrassment, and that works in the world of the book because Heaven, in particular, seems to forget Aziraphale exists at least 80% of the time anyway. Book Heaven is mostly notable for its absence. We recognize their hypocrisy in claiming to be the good guys while mostly doing the exact same shit as Hell with better PR, but in the book Hell seems like the side that’s more dangerous and actively intrusive in Crowley’s life.

But TV Heaven and Hell are terrifyingly, oppressively present in Aziraphale and Crowley’s lives, and both of them very recently (in immortal being terms) tried to execute their respective agents for treason, and still don’t understand why they failed. This raises the stakes and the threat to their relationship enormously, which works great in a television drama where their relationship is much more of a focus than it is in the book. But it also makes it much more difficult to imagine either of them going back to their respective sides after the events of s1. They made that choice already.

So what do you (writer now trying to solve this problem for s2 and potentially s3) and you (Heaven, trying to come up with a way that Aziraphale would walk back into his former prison willingly) do?

You offer Aziraphale the one thing he can’t refuse, the thing he still doesn’t have, even now after Armageddidn’t and surviving the trials and 4 (?) years of living more or less openly with Crowley around. You offer him safety. Safety for himself and Crowley, together.

We know it’s a trap. We know what Heaven is offering is not safety, but control. But Aziraphale hasn’t gotten there yet. We understand why Crowley sees it as a rejection and an insult. But to Aziraphale it’s an offer better than he ever thought was possible to receive.

He thought, all of s1, that he would have to choose between following Heaven’s orders and saving the world and his relationship with Crowley. And he made his choice. Now someone is telling him he can have both? Love and acceptance from Heaven for him and Crowley, and the power to make things better? And when he realizes Crowley won’t come with him…well, maybe at least from Heaven he will still be able to protect him, even if he’s not by his side.

And you know what? I bet, in the short term, this is going to only make him double down on his “it was just a few bad angels” justification for the way Heaven behaved. Because this offer is coming from the literal voice of God. Maybe it even reinforces the idea that God didn’t want Armageddon to happen at all, that Aziraphale and Crowley and Adam and the Them actually were doing her will by stopping it. Because now Aziraphale is being invited back in, with more authority than he ever had before. And they invited Crowley (who he always believed was Good) back in too.

He doesn’t get it yet, that Crowley is right. That you can’t reform Heaven from the inside, because it is not and never was the good side. Because there is no good side.

Aziraphale hasn’t figured that out yet. But he will.

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers #aziraphale #heaven

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joeyalohadream · 3 months

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I wish you would write a fic where John convinces Gale to stay in bed for a bit longer to cuddle because they finally have the time and peace to do that ☺️❤️

Thanks for the prompt, lovely!

Used this an opportunity to escape the heaviness that is part two of my cooler fic. Here is a 2,790 word glimpse of my Cooler-verse Buckies, post-war. Where did they end up? How'd they get there? Don't worry about it, just enjoy some snuggles. 🥰

---

Bucky feels wakefulness gradually edging into the edges of his blissfully quiet mind. Gone are the moments of jolting to full alertness with a mission to complete, with danger waiting outside of a closed door. Never again will a young airmen shake his shoulder with a firm hand and inform him that he might die today. Never again will he scramble out of a bunk or off of a factory floor with bitter, irate German words chasing him to his feet.

He turns his head, the soft pillow smooth against his cheek, and he rides the slow ebb and flow of drifting back into the waking world. The sunlight shines in through their bedroom window. Their bedroom window that will never be closed with shutters from the outside. Their bedroom window that they replaced the glass panes of two days after they purchased the little farmhouse, ensuring an untarnished view and a crystal-clear entrance for the rays of light to filter through. Their bedroom window that is never covered by so much as a curtain to ensure that Gale can find the outside when he looks up, no matter what time of day he feels the need to see the open expanse of the world around him.

He squints behind closed eyes as he feels the rays of the early morning sun tickling the backs of his eyelids and turns his head back out of the light. The mattress wobbles in the rickety bedframe they haven’t had a chance to replace as the warm body occupying the space next to him shifts. A moment later, he feels a gentle pressure against his cheek and he can’t fight the smile that pulls at his mouth.

“Good morning, John.” Gale’s usual low voice is rough from sleep and Bucky feels the movement of his lips when he speaks, still pressed against his cheek as they are.

Soft lips trail to the hinge of his jaw and then the side of his neck and he shivers at the sensation, smile growing.

He finally opens his eyes and is greeted with one of his favorite sights. Gale, hair mussed and messy, falling over his forehead and sticking up in all directions in the back, eyes hooded but clear and blue and happy. Sleep soft and perfect and here in bed with Bucky. Because they survived a war and a prison camp and a march that did its level best to kill them both. Because they made it home and traveled to new places for fun, not for duty and finally settled. Because they’re in their bed, in their bedroom, in their house.

Bucky can’t help but reach out and cup that strong jaw. He lets his thumb stroke the apple of Gale’s cheek and he leans forward enough to press their lips together and watches those blue eyes slip closed before he closes his own. He keeps the kiss chaste, knowing how much Gale hates morning breath, Bucky’s as well as his own. He lingers for a moment before pulling back enough to rub his nose against Gale’s and gently knocks their foreheads together.

Leaning back first allows him to watch Gale slowly open his eyes and he’s greeted with the sweetest smile, and he just smiles back.

“Good morning, Buck.”

Gale props himself up on his elbow and grabs the hand Bucky still has cradling his face. He turns his head enough to press a kiss to the inside of Bucky’s wrist before letting both of their hands, now clasped, fall to the mattress.

“You sleep okay?” Bucky asks him, keeping his voice low and quiet, not wanting to disturb the peace that early mornings seem to naturally bring these days.

“I did actually,” Gale smiles and seems genuinely happy at the fact. And Bucky is too. Because while outside forces will never be allowed into their home to wake them against their will again, neither of them can escape the inside forces that invade most nights.

“You too?”

“Me too,” Bucky tells him honestly. Because last night, they’d made love in the home they now owned and shared, and Bucky had fallen asleep happier than he’d been in as long as he can remember. And he knows these happy days are going to start outnumbering the unhappy ones and it makes a pressure in his chest ease at the thought.

“That’s real good to hear,” Gale squeezes his hand and then, much to Bucky’s dismay lets go of it and then sits up.

Bucky watches as he shuffles to the edge of the bed and gets both legs out from under the blanket. The softest blanket Bucky could find at the store on the second night of their road trip, back when Gale couldn’t shake the cold, no matter how far south they drove.

Gale plants his feet on the ground and starts to push himself off of the mattress and Bucky feels unreasonably not okay with that. He reaches out and tucks his fingers into the waistband at the back of Gale’s skivvies and makes a fist, holding tight to the fabric. His odd action is met with a raised eyebrow over a still too bony shoulder so he just grins.

“Tryin’ to get fresh with me Major?”

And while Bucky can’t deny the near constant state of arousal, always simmering somewhere under the surface, he feels around Gale, that’s genuinely not what he’s aiming for. Not right now.

“Seemed like the easiest way to keep you reaching lift off,” Bucky says around a grin.

He releases his grip on the fabric but moves his hand so his palm is curved around the smaller man’s naked hip.

“It’s time to get out of bed,” Gale rolls his eyes at him, but he doesn’t move away from Bucky’s hand.

“Why?”

Bucky almost laughs at the confusion on Gale’s face when he raises the question.

“What do you mean, why? It’s morning, Bucky.”

“So?”

“So? We have things to do,” Gale states like it’s obvious. Like it’s a fact. And Bucky will admit that it is true. They do have things to do. But they also just don’t, and he thinks that is a beautiful thing.

“Like what?” Bucky props himself up on his elbow and rests his chin in his own palm, tilts his head a little and gives Gale an indulging smile.

“You know what, Bucky,” Gale sighs out. “We were going to buy a screen door for the front of the house and paint for the spare bedroom.”

The spare bedroom that will be Gale’s bedroom when they have visitors. The spare bedroom that will never be slept in because they’re currently in their bedroom, that they share because they made it home and this is their life now. Bucky feels warm inside thinking about it all.

“And the hardware store and the furniture depot will be open all day,” Bucky points out, still smiling at Gale. “And if we don’t end up getting either of those things today, guess what?”

Gale narrows his eyes at him, but he’s starting to look more amused than annoyed.

“Those stores are also going to be open tomorrow.” Bucky squeezes his hip and then pulls on him, satisfied when Gale twists his body around so one foot is back on the bed. One down, one to go.

Gale folds his leg under him and looks down at Bucky with a question in his eyes.

“So, you want to do what? Go back to sleep?” There’s no judgement in his voice, just curiosity.

“Nah,” Bucky shakes his head. “Just want to lay in bed with you for a little longer. I was sleeping the whole time. I didn’t get to enjoy you in my arms.”

Gale’s cheeks color and Bucky cheers inside with a victory. The look Gale gives him now is nothing but fond. But he still doesn’t lay back down.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, Bucky.” Gale huffs a quiet laugh out. “Just feels like we’re doing something wrong after how many years of having to be up and moving every damn day?”

“But we’re not doing anything wrong,” Bucky moves his hand from Gale’s hip to his knee. “Well, technically speaking, in the eyes of God and the law, we are constantly doing something wrong, but, hey, I won’t tell if you won’t.” He winks at Gale and feels himself swell inside at the laugh it forces out of Gale. A real one, one that has him bringing his hand up to cover it’s occurrence.

“You’re ridiculous,” Gale informs him, eyes light and unburdened.

“Ridiculously in love with you,” Bucky adjusts his grip, moving his palm to the back of Gale’s knee and leaning back to get leverage to pull. “And ridiculously ready to cuddle you for at least an hour.”

“A whole hour?” The mock disbelief brings a laugh of his own out of Bucky. It doesn’t take more than a tug before Gale gives in and is climbing back onto the bed completely.

“Where do you want me?”

Bucky grins and reaches out to maneuver Gale into the center of the bed, flat on his back. He lets his fingers dig into his side for a moment, delighting in the involuntary laugh that Gale barks out at the prod.

“You tickle me again and I’ll be on my way to the hardware store before you even get your pants on, John.”

“Okay, Gale,” Bucky smirks at him.

He pushes Gale’s thighs apart and kneels between them, looks down at the amusement on the other man’s face and then lays himself down directly on top of him. He feels Gale’s startled breathy laughter as he settles his chest onto Gale’s groin and hips and then turns his head to rest it with his ear pressed to Gale’s stomach. He frames Gale’s sides with his arms, fingers trailing a slow path up his sides.

“Keep those fingers away from my armpits if you know what’s good for you.”

Bucky chuckles but trails his fingers back down. He can’t contain the contented sigh that escapes as slender, calloused fingers start combing through his curls, twisting them gently around before scratching lightly at his scalp and then repeating the motion.

“Comfortable?”

“Mhmm,” Bucky smiles into the soft skin of Gale’s stomach.

He uses his middle and pointer finger to walk up Gale’s ribcage like a staircase. Months out of the Stalags, over a week off the road and settled into their own home and they still protrude unnaturally. An everyday reminder that Bucky almost lost him, almost watched him fade away right in front of him. Gale’s been slim since the day he met him, he built muscle through training and while he’s slowly getting some of it back, it’s taking longer than Bucky thought it would. Bucky’s frame filled out gradually, but quickly and it truly dismays him that it wasn’t going to be that way with Gale. He has so far to go, and Bucky is starting to realize it’s another battle they’ll have to fight together.

He curves the palm of his left hand around the bottom of Gale’s ribcage and stokes over the most prominent one with his thumb, a silent apology. Soothing it, letting it know it’ll be hidden away soon. He turns his head and places a kiss to the center of Gale’s stomach.

“I bought a dozen eggs at the market yesterday,” Bucky gets a hand to the mattress and scoots himself up until he can rest his chin in the center of Gale’s chest and see his blue eyes. He resettles his weight and smiles when he watches the way all of his features smooth out at the sensation of the pressure of Bucky’s large frame over his.

“I know you did, I was with you at the market,” Gale tilts his head. He moves his hand down to the side of Bucky’s neck, fingers playing with the curls there.

“When I’ve had my fill of cuddling with you, I’m gonna go downstairs and cook all of them for you.”

“I can’t eat twelve eggs, Bucky,” Gale laughs.

“I’m gonna fry some of the ham in the ice box. Ham and eggs, and some sweet rolls too.” Bucky watches as amusement dances in Gale’s eyes at his words. “It’ll be a breakfast feast, fit for a King.”

He feels Gale’s thumb start to trace the lines around his eyes, so he widens his smile to make them more pronounced. Gale loves those lines, he’d told him so while he was miserable and sick and terrified in the Stalag just a few days after he’d returned from one hell to another.

“I couldn’t eat twelve eggs and ham and sweet rolls even before the,” Gale trails off a bit, doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to talk about it. Bucky leans into his touch enough to let him know he knows what he means. “But I definitely can’t now.”

And Bucky knows that. He knows he can’t just feed Gale three overly square meals a day for a few weeks and call it good. He knows there’s more to it than that. That Gale’s relationship with food is different now, just like his relationship with solitude and silence and noise and countless other things is different now too. Just like his own relationship with whiskey and crowds and the woods and even a phone call is different now.

It doesn’t mean Bucky doesn’t wish he could make it all go away.

“I know,” Bucky tells him. “I just want to take care of you.”

“You do,” Gale’s voice is soft and serious and gentle, and it warms Bucky to his core. “You take care of me every minute of every day, Bucky. You’re the only one who ever has.”

And Bucky feels so proud of himself and so sad for Gale at the same moment. But Gale doesn’t look sad, he looks happy and content and very in love.

“You take care of me too,” Bucky breathes out. “Better than anyone else ever has.”

Silence settles around them for a few moments as they watch each other in the early morning light. The sun is warm on Bucky’s bare back and he could stay just like this all day. But he feels Gale’s stomach rumble against his own where they’re pressed together.

“Can I make you two eggs, ham and a sweet roll?”

“C’mere,” Gale tugs on his shoulder and Bucky goes easily, moth to Gale’s flame.

The way Gale holds his face, palm cradling his jaw makes him melt further into him. Their lips meet and Bucky’s the first to close his eyes this time. He props himself up on his hands, framed on either side of Gale’s head and lets himself enjoy the press of Gale’s plump, soft lips to his own. To his surprise, morning breath be damned, the tip of Gale’s tongue traces the seam of his lips and his hips grind down at the same the wet slide of their tongues kicks the simmering arousal in his gut up a notch.

He feels Gale is similarly affected and he smiles into the kiss as Gale tries to pull him down, pull him closer. Bucky rolls his hips one more time and then leans back, smiling down at Gale as the younger man lifts his head to chase his lips.

The frustrated pout Gale shoots up at him makes him laugh. He brushes the hair off of Gale’s forehead and then lets his lips follow his fingers, pressing a kiss right between his eyebrows.

He leans back and get his knees under him and in one fluid motion he’s up and off the bed, Gale’s pout turning more frustrated. Still adorable though.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“It’s breakfast time, Buck.”

“This was your idea,” Gale reminds him, still laying in their bed, still looking sleep soft and precious and perfect and like everything Bucky every dreamed of and had really feared he might lose. He wonders if Gale can see the love he feels for him in his eyes, in his smile, in his entire being.

“I’m gonna make you breakfast and we’re gonna eat it,” Bucky tells him, hands on his hips, a smile on his lips that won’t be leaving his face at all today. “And then I’m going to have you for dessert.”

Gale’s eyes widen a bit and a slow, pleased smile spreads across his face.

“We’re not going to get any work done today, are we?”

“No, we are not.” Bucky tells him with a grin, already imagining all the things he’s going to do to him in their bed.

“Sounds good to me, Major.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #mota fic #mota fanfic #clegan fluff #JoeyAlohaWrites

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