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lovenona · 3 years ago

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ON THE SACRED BONDS OF BROTHERHOOD.

synopsis; choso may be their beloved frat brother, but he’ll always be your brother first. (for the frat au collab.)

pairing; frat boy! choso x f! reader

contains; stepcest, dubcon (reader is under the influence but having a good time), extensive descriptions of knife play and blood play, marking (choso carves his name into you), oral (f! receiving), borderline yandere/possessive choso (he loves you A Lot), choso goes from mean to Soft, consumption and romanticization of drugs and alcohol, (1) use of ‘angel’, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, this is essentially all foreplay and ends before the fucking because i got tired, minors do not interact or perish

word count; 6.5k

the yard outside is clean, well-kept. there’s talk that the house’s landlord is a retired gardener who receives great joy from keeping up the hydrangeas and peonies along the sidewalk. it’s certainly award-winning, that front yard, with its colorful blossoms and plush bees circling the mailbox.

they’re so lucky, students bemoan on their way to and from class. i can’t believe the frat boys get to live there. i bet they don’t even know how lucky they are.

it’s a seemingly kind house from the outside – recently renovated with navy blue paint and white trimming, a large front porch and a few inviting windows. the place that omega lambda now calls home is, simply put, a dream. it sits just a few minutes from campus and it tells the street proudly, fondly, that there is no better place to be than here.

it’s true, in some respects, that omega lambda likes to see themselves as above the sweat and grime of their fellow frat brothers. they don’t spend their weekends “fucking and drinking” and tracking dirt across the carpet like animals. their fun is calm, refined: to be invited to a night with omega lambda means a night of smoke curling into the air, of gossip over olive-colored couches, of pills under tongues, of ease and relaxation.

it’s slower than the others, they say in the back of monday morning lectures, but no less extreme, no matter what those boys try and tell you.

i think i was tripping for days, the girl from psychology 101 boasted. whatever the fuck yuuji gets is strong.

such stories amaze you: and even as you stand on the sidewalk outside the perfect blue house, petunias curling inward with the evening breeze, you cannot believe they are real. it’s hard to imagine the face of your beloved stepbrother tied to these antics. it’s hard to imagine that the boy who used to come home every winter and summer with bloodshot eyes and a beat-up skateboard also swore a loyal, unbreakable oath of brotherhood to a band of boys you’ve never met.

it’s hard to imagine that your own stepbrother, choso, the one who taught you how to ride a bike and how to apply eyeliner and how to kiss without teeth, quite literally runs what has been dubbed the chillest fraternity on campus.

but yet, here you are, new to university, fresh-faced and eager, cowering outside the door of the omega lambda residence. your favorite skirt hovers around your thighs and you tug at the collar of your shirt, fiddle with the charm of the necklace choso gave you for your birthday a few years ago.

he’d invited you here almost immediately after learning that you and your roommate had tried your hand at partying with beta pi epsilon. naoya is trash, choso’s fervent texts read the next morning. absolute dick – don’t trust him. come hang out with us instead. he’d attached the address of the blue house along with a reminder to have a snack and take some medicine for your godforsaken hangover.

the message had taken you a little by surprise. choso’s always been sweet to you – doting, even, if you wanted a better word for it – but you hadn’t been sure how he’d handle attending the same university. your other friends all complain that they’d rather die than see their families; twins separate after orientation, brothers and sisters look the other way if they pass each other in the quad. you feared choso would be the same, that the omnipotent attention he gave you at home would completely dissipate the moment you moved into your dorm.

but his text reaffirms you, if anything. and although your roommate had opted to be wined and dined by the boy from calculus this evening, you don’t mind attending alone. her absence from your side only means you will be able to see your stepbrother without a distraction.

the music buzzes through the door as you knock and wring your fingers on the doorstep. should you just walk in? should you text choso and wait for him to fetch you? the ins-and-outs of frat etiquette cloud your mind until the door swings open and you’re met, face-to-face, with a young pink-haired man dangling a blunt from one hand and his phone, opened to his spotify playlist, from the other.

“hi,” you say, words foreign in your throat. “choso invited me?”

“oh, cool,” itadori yuuji says, shrugging his shoulders like he never would have questioned it. “come on in. you can put your shoes over there.”

while omega lambda is not packed from wall to wall as your night at beta pi epsilon had been, the various couches propped against the walls and surrounding the living room coffee table are nearly packed to the brim with the frat brothers and their guests. the air, hazy with smoke and desire and drinking, shifts and swirls as it curls around purple LED lights before fogging up the windows and disappearing up the stairs. it is warm here, easy, like dropping into the depths of a pleasurable dream.

“there’s drinks in the kitchen,” yuuji is saying, voice thick with his high, “and we’ve got some other stuff on the table, although you’ll have to pay yuuta for those–”

yuuji’s narration is cut off as a familiar figure crashes into yours, sweeping you into a hug so tight you fear your bones will snap from the pressure. choso smells like the cologne you bought him for his birthday, like fresh laundry and comfort; you breathe him in, deeply, and let yourself relax into the soft cotton of his black t-shirt.

“glad you could make it,” choso mumbles into your skin. he draws back slightly, drinks you in, your little skirt and your dainty socks that he’s always been partial to. he looks from you to yuuji, still vibing to the side with his playlist, and his eyes crinkle in what must be mirth.

“it’s good to see you,” you say.

“you saw me at lunch with mom last week.” choso smiles, the black line across his nose crinkling when his eyes light up.

“you get what i mean.” you tap his shoulder, lightly, as emphasis. the anxiety dissolves; it’s you, and him, like it’s always been. it’s your stepbrother choso who watches your shadow and wraps you up to keep the rest of the world at bay.

but the tender moment is broken when someone, a tall blonde girl with the aura of a lioness, calls out to choso to ask him for assistance. he looks at you, a bit forlorn, before telling yuuji to help you get settled in and making his way to the other end of the living room.

“yes, this way!” yuuji grabs your arm and drags you across the floor like you’ve known each other forever. “i make some fucking good drinks if i do say so myself.”

which, consequently enough, is how you find yourself losing your mind within the walls of omega lambda.

it’s not that you’re a virgin to the world of cocktails and lime and pills: it’s that you’re too sweet to know when to stop. it’s hard to tell yuuji no more, thanks when his face is so bright, when he and the strange, blue-haired frat brother mahito are asking you to try this and try that and to let us know what you think.

so you let yourself sway through the house, from couch to couch, listening to this mahito boy tell you about his latest philosophy courses as he dances cold fingers across your shoulders, listening to yuuji explain the very serious business of pulling an all-nighter without coffee, watching the LED lights shift from purple to blue and back again.

(you’re not sure where choso is. perhaps, in your altered state, he’s sitting just across from you and you don’t even know it. but you don’t mind, because his brothers get along with you just as well. you don’t mind, because you’re too drunk or too high to know any better.)

“and how are you doing?” a dark-haired man slides into the empty couch space next to you. arms littered with various tattoos and dark hair pulled back into a casual half-bun, he could have been your beloved choso had he not exuded such finesse, such arrogance, which choso could never be capable of doing.

“i’m alright,” you say, but you’re more than alright. the room is so warm and your brain is so fuzzy that you might melt into the couch if someone looked away for even a minute. “i don’t think we’ve met before? i’m choso’s stepsister.”

he simpers, a humid thing, one that coils around your eyelids and sets your insides alight. “ah! i’ve heard a lot about you. it’s nice to meet you.” he holds out a manicured hand; black nail polish glimmers in the dim light. “geto. i’m one of choso’s frat brothers.”

his handshake might take your soul with it. his hands are smooth, refined. you swear he can feel your quickening pulse as you introduce yourself. he watches you like you might be the only person in the room, like you might be the sweetest thing to have ever crossed the threshold. and filled with rum and liqueur and confidence you take it, gladly, because you’re young and the thought of university still puts stars in your eyes.

“so what are you studying?” geto is saying, prying you apart, picking through your history. he’s in his final year and you’re in your first and he knows all there is to know while you still have nothing. you latch onto him because he gets it, because he’s handsome, because you’re silly and desperate and drunk. somewhere along the way your thighs touch and his hand greets your shoulder and you think that you finally made it into his lap because mahito complained that the couch was too full.

geto smells like expensive cologne. you smell vaguely of lemons and shampoo. yuuji jokes with you from across the table and you like it, the way these brothers’ eyes fall on you.

so you spiral, further and further, into a daze you cannot escape from. you barely react to geto’s firm hand snaking up your bare thigh because you are too busy trying yuuji’s latest creation and asking mahito for more of whatever he gave you. it’s fun, it’s weightless; you feel beautiful, supreme, like the kind of college girl you’re supposed to be. you’re desirable, cute. you’re the girl to be in love with, the one who sets the scene.

those rumors were right. the party is certainly slower than the other frats you’ve visited, with more emphasis on sitting and vibing than on dancing and drinking games, but no less extreme. you’re so far out of your brain that you wonder briefly if it will ever be possible to come back down. maybe you’ll be her, on monday morning, the girl who’s still tripping.

“you know,” geto is saying, his breath eerily close to your pulse, a moment away from pressing a kiss to your cheek, your neck, “you should stop by more often.”

“yeah?” you hope you sound sexier than you are. “i’d love to–”

“excuse me,” choso’s voice cuts through your lazy fantasy like the sharp fall of a guillotine. “i’d prefer if you didn’t hit on my sister, geto.”

geto’s laugh reverberates against your back, your ears. his grip on you lightens immediately, and whatever words he’d saved for you die away. “i’m not,” he says, but his voice is too easy to be honest. “just keeping her company. right, sweetheart?”

you’re finding it hard to see straight. caught in this game of cat and mouse you find you can do nothing but sit lamely in geto’s lap and watch choso’s favorite necklace reflect the purple light. it’s only after a revolution around the sun you realize you haven’t spoken, that you’ve done nothing but hover, a lot of drunk and a little high and a little nervous, between one man and the other. you mumble a yes in affirmation but it’s clear from the tension that choso doesn’t believe it.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” choso sighs. “come on, then. you’ve had enough for one night.” familiar arms lift you off the couch and you stumble, much like a baby gazelle, into the safety of choso’s chest. the room spins with the sudden change; you cling to him like a lifeline as you abandon the party to head upstairs.

of course, bedazzled out of your mind, you do not question when choso leads you to the end of the hallway and over the threshold of his bedroom. it feels expected in a way, safe, as if the party had always been meaning to end here. as if there was no other place you should be.

“so?” choso asks, casually, shutting the door behind him with a damning click. “did you enjoy being a little whore with my brothers?”

his words take a long moment to settle in your ears. you’re caught in the swirl of euphoria in your brain, the black t-shirts scattered across the floor, the small houseplant you once bought him seated on the windowsill. it warms your heart to see it there, after all this time.

“well?” choso demands your attention. he takes your jaw in his hand and lifts your eyes to meet his gaze. his silver rings, imposing and cool on slender fingers, burn into your heated flesh like embers. his eyes swim with distaste and you know it’s your fault, somehow, but when the walls tilt and your rationality fogs over, you can’t quite pinpoint why.

“i–” your words catch in your throat. it’s clear, from the darkness in his eyes, from the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of your jawline, that anything you say to defend yourself will be futile. it’s choso’s world, you’ve always known, and even now, you’re merely living in it.

“i invite my sister to see me, because i miss her,” choso’s words nestle themselves deep into your bloodstream, settling amongst the brandy and wine, “and she chooses to spend the night bending over for my brothers. how do you think that makes me feel?”

it’s a look you know: a look that has haunted you for hours and days, a look that you know better than any other. it’s the look that guides the hand between your legs at night and the look you recreate in your mind’s eye when your vibrator just isn’t enough. you’re crumbling already, like sand beneath his touch.

“i’m sorry,” you say to him, but the words are soft and whispered things, shy beneath the weight of your own guilt and disappointment. “i didn’t mean to–”

“no,” choso admonishes. he steps closer, guiding you backwards until his bedsheets brush the backs of your knees. “of course you didn’t. you’re still too dumb to know what you’re doing.” his voice, evenly condescending, hardly matches the gentle brush of his fingers as he moves to cup your cheeks. you close your eyes against it, savoring the shivers he sends across you body with every heartbeat, every movement. “still need your big brother to keep you in check.”

you do not respond: he does not intend for you too. instead choso presses you back until you fall onto his bed, crawling over you to cage your body beneath him like a predator and its prey. your brain falters with the sudden movement, with the lateness of the hour and the depravity of your position, but you can do nothing but look at him with your helpless doe-eyes while something saccharine pools in your belly.

“look at you,” choso says. “high out of your damn mind. good thing i caught you when i did. who knows what would have happened.”

you believe him, you do, especially when choso dips his head to kiss you and demands your subservience. his tongue licks the aftermath of your cocktails from your lips and claims the expanse of your mouth, your teeth, your sanity. you let him take you, body and soul, even when you’re clamoring for air and freedom. there is no safety but choso’s lips, flavored with his cinnamon chapstick, no sacred home but the warmth of his mouth.

“there’s my girl,” choso breathes, nose brushing against yours as he pulls back for air. “going to be good for me now? going to make it up to your big brother?”

he doesn’t wait for a response; fingers dance along the silk of your blouse as he undoes each button, one by one, letting his fingers dip slyly against the newly exposed expanse of your collarbone and your chest and your stomach. you make no move to stop him, caught somewhere between choso’s aura and reality and time.

(and maybe in another life you would have stopped him. maybe in another life you would have been ashamed. but it’s choso, your sworn protector and god among men, and you would be a fool to try and stop the one who knows best. he is safety, protection. who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken you away when he did.)

“is this new?” choso asks, studying the curve of your bra as he rests against your hips. “who are you trying to impress?”

it’s thin lavender lace, choso’s favorite. your face warms at the observation and you turn your head away, nestling among the sheets, as if you could escape choso’s eyes: but his fingers still trace the material and you can still hear him breathing and you know he will never look away.

“i just got it,” you answer, humbled and mildly humiliated and certainly a little fucked up. the words are slow and imprecise as you stumble over your own tongue. “i wanted to…treat myself.”

choso’s exploratory hands move from your bra to the waistband of your skirt. “could’ve just asked me,” he says earnestly, intently. “i would’ve gotten it for you.”

your affirmative hum is lost when choso mindfully pulls your skirt down your legs and discards it somewhere in the shadows of the room. he says nothing of it, of the thin fabric or the way it flattered you just right. perhaps he is jealous of it. perhaps he does not want to remember the way his brothers looked at you when you wore it, the way geto’s hands caressed the places no other man should go.

“they match, i see,” choso gestures towards your underwear. terrified and knowing and aware that you’re growing damper with each passing minute, you press your thighs together. “they’re cute.”

“t-thank you,” you whisper. “i… i got them for you. your favorite color.”

he smiles, a precious and glorious thing, a smile that causes flowers to grow and birds to sing. you electrify at the sight of it, blissful only when he is.

“i’d hope so,” choso says, “because i don’t think i could take it if this was meant for someone else.”

he reaches over to the nightstand while his words claw through you. choso smells like cinnamon and safety and pleasure; your heartbeat quickens as his t-shirt brushes against you, as your world collapses into nothing but choso’s profile, his butterfly hair-clips and his glowing skin and his power.

when choso settles back over you, resting against your thighs until you think you might die of it, something silver and shiny rests in his palm. you’d recognize it even if your eyes were closed, if the room were so dark that you couldn’t see if you tried. a searing and insatiable sensation lodges itself in your veins; it is fear personified, it is anticipation of a behavior you cannot even name.

choso twirls his beloved switchblade deftly between his well-manicured fingertips. it reflects the low-light of the room. it calls out to you, the beautiful and dangerous thing, a siren’s song that promises both your misery and your fortune. choso’s face is relaxed, serene, as the envy and the fury seemingly melts away from him and leaves only a disinterested vessel behind.

he lets you study it, lets you study him, and you know he’s pleased when he can feel your thighs tense, when you try so damn hard not to let choso know just how affected you really are. he shifts, grinding gently against your pelvis as he moves, causing you to bite your lip in a desperate attempt to surpress the gentlest of moans.

“well,” choso says, disregarding the state he’s slowly working you into. he shifts down your body and runs a lackluster hand across the lacy expanse of your underwear. shivers pierce your navel, silver rings poison your skin. it’s all you can do to watch him, his heartless eyes and his casual form, as his thumb prods at the place where you underwear crosses your hip. “let’s get these off. i’d hate to have anyone else see you in them.”

you feel the blade before you see it. cold, unfriendly, it rests against the gentle skin of your hip, a killer ready to take a life. a humiliatingly choked whine is out of your mouth before you can swallow it; your gasp reverberates throughout the room, the sound of one who knows they’ve lost a fight.

“choso–” you breathe, but you don’t know quite what it is you’re asking him for.

he doesn’t answer immediately, opting instead to tease you further with the blade as he presses it against you until goosebumps rise in chorus. your fingers curl in on themselves, desperate for purchase, while fear and longing hum everywhere in your being.

“don’t worry,” choso says. “i’ll buy you more. now be good and stay still.”

you want to writhe, to lash out and squirm beneath the intensity of the moment, but you fear choso’s disappointment more than you crave such release. your big brother choso has never been afraid to hurt you: to pierce the skin where it hurts, to draw blood where he means it. if you move, the blade will move with you. you know this as you know every scar choso has left behind.

it’s agonizing, this pace. choso’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth as he works with the ease of a great master. it’s like watching paint dry, like waiting for grass to grow or continents to shift. he cuts away at the expensive lingerie you bought just last weekend like he has all the time in the world, like he does not care if the sun rises and you are still crying beneath him.

(and he does it, you know, because you’ve never been one to be patient.)

“choso,” you whine, drawing his name out, long and frustrated, as if in song. “go faster.” your legs twitch in protest and the blade comes ever closer.

“no.” choso does not even spare the kindness to look at you, his beloved little sister. “stop whining.”

the rest of your complaints lodge in your throat. you fear disobeying him, so you grip the comforter like a lifeline, exasperated tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the blade cuts through your clothes and ghosts across the bare skin beneath. it’s embarrassing, really, the way you can feel yourself becoming more and more desperate the further choso drifts away from you, the more he refuses to indulge.

you wonder if he can sense the arousal on you, feel it, smell it, even, like you’re nothing but his own little plaything in heat.

after an eternity, the blade finally cuts through your panties with a satisfying rip. the torn fabric sits pitifully against your hips, a reminder of your own subservience, until choso peels it away from you with enough condescension to move you to tears. the cool air of the room hits your thighs, your cunt, like a ghost who’s taken up residence beside you.

blissfully unaware of your feelings, choso studies the remains of your ruined underwear, the thin fabric and the obvious stain of your arousal. locking eyes with you, he bring it to his nose for a brief and pleasurable inhale before he discards it somewhere on the other side of the room.

“there we are,” he says, as if he hadn’t just smelled yourself in front of you. “now no one will ever know about it but me.”

“choso,” you whimper, hot. it’s a gift and a humiliation to be beneath him like this, to shake with need and yet to be denied it, to ask for something, for anything, in a voice so unabashedly loud that anyone who passes by the door might hear it.

he ignores you, again, and turns his attention to your bra as it flutters against your fervent chest. you watch with wide eyes as the blade comes closer, closer, dancing against your ribcage and sending ice into your lungs until it slices through the front of your bra, down the center of your chest, like the thin fabric was made of nothing but water.

“get rid of this,” he says; you listen. with quick and quivering fingertips you shimmy your way out of the delicate material and toss it over the side of the bed faster than the speed of sound. choso, pleased with your obedience, intently traces the curve of your breasts, thumbing your nipples until you find yourself arching into his touch.

(choso, you mumble, eyes falling shut at the feeling. still, as always, he does not listen. he draws his hands away.)

it kills you, the way choso’s eyes possess you, own you, dictate the movement in your bloodstream. it’s akin to being pulled along on marionette strings, a puppet of choso’s own design, made to dance for him and him alone.

it’s the prize he deserves, your big brother, to own you and protect you, body and soul.

it’s that very intensity which moves you to misty tears, which causes your hands to fly out to meet him against your better judgement. choso lets you pleasure yourself for a moment with the texture of his t-shirt and the outline of his shoulders before brushing your hands away like unnecessary flies.

“did you whore yourself out like this when you went to naoya’s?” choso prods. the patronization lies beneath feigned and genuine curiosity. there are no inflections, no signs of anger. this is how your big brother gets you, every time: it’s the neglect, the disinterest, that breeds your guilt. “are you really so easy for every boy that comes your way?”

you shake your head and wish you could bury yourself further into the bedsheets. no, never. try as you might the first-year college boys here just haven’t been enough, the older ones too preoccupied with better cunts to look your way.

“just because those guys are my brothers,” choso continues, shifting further and further down your body, spreading your legs until he can fit himself comfortably between them, “doesn’t mean i have to share everything with them.”

“i’m sorry, choso,” you try again, “i’m sorry. i don’t want anyone else–”

“that’s right,” choso interrupts. “you don’t need anyone else. no one is ever going to love you the way i do.”

the way your big brother does, his eyes say, but he doesn’t have to voice it. you already know. it’s true that no one knows you better than choso does. no one understands your limits and your desires the way your brother has for as long as you’ve known him. no one knows how to caress you when you cry, how to run their tongue across your lips to silence you when you’re too eager. it’s always choso. it’s always been choso; but sometimes you’re just too much of a fool to see it.

the blade, cool and demanding, presses against the soft flesh of your thigh, just below the hip. you twitch in surprise at the sensation and curl your toes to quell the ache in your cunt. it’s slick, weeping; you can feel it, the arousal, as it pools and pools and drips quietly onto the comforter.

“choso, what are you–” you ask, breathily, pitifully, but choso’s quick glare reduces you into obedient silence.

he licks the cinnamon chapstick on his lips. a stray hair falls across his eyes and kisses the dark line across his nose. he is love and danger, a cocktail of possession and surrender. “i think,” choso says, the words slow and thoughtful, “you need a reminder of who loves you the most.”

a strangled cry escapes your lips when the blade pierces your skin just enough to draw blood. the sting travels up through your spine and fogs up your senses, causes your cunt to weep in horrible anticipation. it hurts, it does, the first cut, but still you find yourself waiting for more of it, more, in terror and lust and love.

“choso–” you cry, a misty tear escaping out of the corner of your eye, but the call is met by another stroke, longer this time, drawn out, until your knuckles clutch the bedsheets so tensely they might as well turn to stone.

“stay still,” choso admonishes amidst the burn of it. “you’ll hurt yourself.”

as if you were the one in control. but you listen, obediently as always, and the alcohol from earlier combined with the need in your chest mixes together until your body is as taut as a desperate wire, until you no longer have control of yourself or your limbs. the knife cuts easily, choso’s hands as steady and precise as ever. you can feel the blood dripping onto his sheets like a series of hot tears.

it’s too much, all at once. it is a fire which destroys you, which renders every coherent thought into ash and causes you to sob nothing but drawn-out cries and pleads of choso’s name into the dark bedroom. he has you just where he wants you: pliant, dumb, obedient. if he asked you to fetch him a star, you would have asked him which one he needed.

choso’s tongue darts between his teeth as a steady hand continues its masterpiece. you sob unabashedly in reply with every stroke, with every flex of his fingers as he works his blade against your tender skin. and yet, as the pain grows, so does your need for something, for anything, for release; with every aching minute your cunt grows hotter and lonelier and emptier between your thighs.

you crave something, anything, choso, perhaps even more than you wish for air.

“there you go,” choso says, just as you release another cry so piercing there’s no way even yuuji wouldn’t have heard it. “all done.”

you sit up on your elbows to peer down at the masterpiece below your hip. smeared with blood, aching and raw from the blade, the word CHOSO spreads across your upper thigh in an uneven but heartfelt script. it makes you dizzy, this marking, this sign that no one owns you better than your sacred brother does. you wonder if it will leave a scar, if it will heal; and even more so, you wonder if choso will merely rewrite it, again and again, until every cell in your body knows that you are nothing without him.

you say nothing; a whine escapes your lips as your eyes flit from the mark to choso’s eyes, dark and possessive, as he looks back at you.

“you like it?” he asks, once again the sweet thing, the doting one.

“yes,” you whisper back, never one to lie to your perfect big brother.

but you cannot hide the insatiability. choso notices the way your thighs twitch from the intensity, the way your cunt drools and your eyebrows furrow because you cannot relieve this ache on your own. you’re helpless, entirely at his mercy. choso tilts his head with a soft and unreadable simper at the sight.

“you’re really worked up, huh?” he pretends your distress is not blatantly obvious. he twirls the bloodstained knife between his fingertips for a moment before bringing the flat edge of the blade against his lips in a somber kiss. “this little thing’s got you down bad, i see.” he flashes the switchblade at you like a diamond. you watch, entranced, as choso slides his tongue across the metal until any traces of your blood disappear into his mouth.

your belly’s on fire. the switchblade shines with choso’s spit and he smiles, your blood on his tongue, while he prods your legs apart, further, until you’re entirely open for him with nothing to hide. you whine lowly as choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes, dazed and helpless, and the slick on the bedsheets.

“choso,” you repeat. “please, help me.” your eyes are wide and your voice is small and you crumble beneath the weight of your own needing, of your own body working of its own volition, of the high that collapses all over you.

perhaps it’s the way you call for him, your big brother, in your time of need. perhaps it’s the way choso can never really deny you, even when he feigns disappointment or rage or neglect. he’s bound to you, your protector, and you can see in the way his eyes soften ever so slightly that choso will not deny you this request.

“sure thing, angel. let me clean this up for you.” choso’s voice is generous as he bows his face towards your hips with the reverence of one before the altar. he leaves no room for your answer. an eager tongue swipes across your thigh and laps at the blood which pools there. his movements are indulgent, refined, as he holds your legs open with intimidating palms and drinks you in like medicine.

“choso–” you gasp, unable to look away. his eyes flit back to meet yours in reply but he continues his ministrations, slow, teasing, as he ignores your cunt entirely and licks at the fresh wound until it’s finally, sacredly, clean. your newly beloved CHOSO glimmers with his spit when he pulls away. he smiles at you then, praying over your hips, lips stained red with your blood, with your being.

“i may be their brother,” choso gestures towards the door, to the party which must still rage below, “but i’m your brother first, and now you’ll never forget it.”

the words are followed by his tongue on your inner thigh, fervent this time, as he travels downwards, downwards from his name on your leg until his nose is a breath away from your clit. you thrust your hips towards him impatiently and he accepts it, gratefully, burying his face deep into your cunt like he’s searching for gold. choso lavishes your clit with plump lips and an eager tongue, drawing the bud into his mouth and kissing it until you cry, until your legs tremble as they ensnare him in your garden.

“choso–” you’re crying, voice transcendent throughout the frat house, his favorite song. there’s a tongue prodding against your hole and a silver ring on your clit and you lose yourself within it, within choso’s breath on your folds and the fire which erupts into chaos.

when it comes to pleasing you, choso does not require air. he refuses to resurface as his tongue explores every inch, as he laps away at you with the passionate abandon only an older brother can provide. what you need, he needs, and what you desire most, choso is always willing to provide. he holds you steady as he works so you cannot escape him. he forces you into stillness as he abuses every sacred inch of your cunt, as he works you into a frenzy with his fingers and his tongue until you can think of nothing but wanting to cum.

and then, then, at the precipice of pleasure, choso pulls away. you pause as you catch your breath, heartbeat like an earthquake, and recollect your shock. why has he stopped? where has he gone? you’re about to sit up, to feign sobriety, to demand what the matter is, when something cool and smooth presses against your clit.

choso’s cheek rests against your inner thigh as he presses the flat edge of the switchblade against your cunt. it’s cold and dangerous and sublime and you cannot help but think of the way it could ruin you, that if you shifted or choso wanted it everything could end here, now, forever. and it is this fear, coupled with the coolness of the blade suffocating your clit, with the alcohol in your bloodstream, that sends you into a place from which you may never return.

the orgasm is as violent as a hurricane. the moment you tense and begin to quake with a strangled sob choso replaces the blade with his tongue and rides you through it, coating his lips with your cum and swallowing the vibrations and heightening the sensation until you are tortured by it, by the sting of pleasure and overstimulation and want.

(“that’s it,” you think he says into your skin, but your ears ring too loudly to know. “cum for me, just like that.”)

it takes some time for the waves to recede and for your body to become still again. with a head comprised of of jelly and limbs made of water you lie still, panting, as choso nonchalantly licks your slick from the switchblade with a hum and gingerly sets it back down on his dresser. you watch as he slides the belt out of his jeans and tosses it into the dark room, as he hovers above you like an angel and its lover.

“better now?” he asks against your parted lips. you nod. he kisses you, deeply, a kiss made of iron and cum and blood, tongue swiping across your teeth before he draws the air from your lungs. your vision swims when he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, between your eyebrows. he plants his love until there is nowhere left untouched, until you are buzzing with the security only your brother choso can give you.

“yeah,” you mumble back to him, content, satisfied. even the sting of his name on your body is a pleasantry now.

“good.” choso wipes the perspiration from your brow. his jeans scratch against your pelvis, and it is only then that you finally register his cock, hard and eager, waiting patiently for its turn. it is only then that you realize choso’s lesson is not yet over, that your brother’s desperate need has only begun.

“now,” he purrs, gently, lovingly, “can you show me how much you love me?”

(as always, forever, you do. you show him your love, endlessly, even when the party ends and the house falls eerily silent. you show choso everything, all of it, loyally, just as he asks, with an only you, choso, and a no one else loves me like you.

because although choso offers his love to the brothers downstairs, he will always, forever, be your brother first, til death do you part.)

#tw incest #tw dubcon #tw knife play #tw blood play #tw marking #tw yandere #choso smut #choso.#it's dark in here #it's hot in here

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

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The morning and evening star | Johnny Suh

Johnny Suh x female!Reader

▸ too much fluff, too much smut, angst, prince of Egypt AU, slave reader ▸ Part of NCT Historical AU Collaboration hosted by @puppywritings ▸ In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh is referred as “Morning and Evening Star”

Word count: 8,441k Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, its a Johnny fic what do you expect?, mentions of slavery (if that bothers you, please click away), mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of sadness, self doubt, possessiveness, unprotected sex, oral sex (female), rough sex, slight exhibitionism, fingering, mentions of bruises, spitting. Mentions of other idols, and Johnny’s parents. Pregnancy, (if that bothers you please click away), mature themes, murder, family betrayal, mentions of gods bc hello its Egypt A/N: Pure fiction. Inspired by my favorite movies that I grew up watching with my family during family movie nights.. haha. (Troy, prince of Egypt, Exodus: Gods and kings, Tangled, and Gods of Egypt)

Taglist: @doyounglover @puppywritings @commentgirl @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @wonderfulkoreanpop @ethaeriyeol @suhpersonic @sunshinedhyuck @sighreal @jb-hope94

To William, thank you so much for this wonderful collab! I’m lucky enough to join last minute and I hope this fic gives justice to your wonderful collab. Thank you so much!

On a beautiful quiet night in Egypt, under the dark sky that's full of stars, a young prince is out on the terrace to look at his kingdom and admire it even with the slightest light. The moon shines beautifully and so he expects that that is a good sign that the night will be even more beautiful.

A royal banquet is waiting for his presence. Another gathering where the richest families in Egypt wish the young prince to bring peace, victory, and finally put an end to this war against the enemies.

“I can already feel the weight of my father’s crown mother, what should I do?” Johnny asks his mother as they accompany each other to the royal banquet.

“You do the right and wises thing, my son. Be a better pharaoh than your father,” his mother advises. Caressing his son’s face before they enter the room and telling him to have long patience with the ignorant people who are going to have a word with him tonight.

When everyone welcomed both the prince and the royal wife, they all cheered happily, shouting and howling for the prince while the blaring sounds of percussion and tambourine started playing. Men and women were always mesmerized by Johnny’s perfect built, architects and sculptors are dying to make him their inspiration and make him a big statue. Even the beauty of every gold he’s wearing in his body right now has no match for his natural handsomeness and godlike features.

“My son, who has fought many battles for me over my reign since I was declared ill, will be the one who will lead you to peace and victory,” he pats Johnny’s shoulder before he continues and looked to his assistants. “So before a great war starts tomorrow, I present to you this gift,” he nods and signals his assistant to bring it in.

And when people started to make way for the gift, loud grunts, and nonstop whining were heard across the room… while the people just watched the guards drag her in to be presented to the prince. “Amusement my prince,” one of the assistants says and pushed her further in front of the prince.

Johnny then lowered himself to check the gift that's been presented to him. Left and right he turned the girl’s face to admire it, and when he finally smirked because he liked the gift, the girl spits on his face. Loud whispers of shocked people surrounded the room, telling the girl that she has no respect for the prince of Egypt. Of course, Johnny can’t let his people see that it’s alright for a slave to disrespect him, and so he did something… something he’s not going to be proud of but will surely wow the people watching.

He grabbed a glass of wine, drank a mouthful and spit it on the girl’s face in front of everyone, and poured the remaining wine from his cup on her clothes. “Be careful slave” the prince says, pointing a finger that has a big golden ring around it to remind her who she’s talking to. “Dry her off and lock her in my room. Go,” he commands and the guards responded immediately.

The royal banquet carries on without even bothering further about the slave. Everyone drank delicious sweet wine, chattered nonstop about their richest and the things they desire in life and bid the prince of Egypt good night before they all went home.

But even though the night carried on as it should be, his mind can’t stop reminding him about the awful thing he did earlier. And so after the royal banquet, he asked for a tray of fruits and brought it to his room… for you.

Behind the thin curtains of his bed, he sees your silhouette and shook his head as a sign of disappointment to himself before he apologizes to you. He joined you in bed, sat so far away but still, he saw that no one tended to you, that no one helped you or even gave you dry clothes. “Why must you disrespect me like that?” Johnny left the question as he disappears for a minute and returned with a damped cloth and his sleeping robe. He hands it to you because he wouldn’t dare touch you without your permission, but instead of accepting the kindness that the prince is giving to you, you rolled your eyes at him, sat up and kept your distance.

“I’m sorry” he whispers but you heard it. “I may be a fool or I act tough in everyone’s eyes, especially my father’s but my mother did not raise me like that,” he added and reached for the damped clothed and came near you. Johnny wiped your face carefully like he is not the future pharaoh of Egypt and humbling himself for you.

After cleaning your skin, you shamelessly removed your clothes in front of him and looked straight into his eyes to search for lust and to finally finish this long night. And just like those men and women, architects and sculptors who lusted over his body, Johnny… lusted for you.

If you strip away every gold in Johnny’s body tonight, you will see goosebumps around his skin. He very much wants to have you tonight and pleasure himself but he still feels very guilty about what he did earlier. Almost as if he felt that he’s not worthy of you.

“If I give you pleasure tonight and have me as much as you want and as many as you like, will you free me?” you ask crawling near him wearing nothing but a cheap necklace. The prince then caressed your face, traced the curves of your body while looking directly into your eyes, showing you that he wanted to accept your offer so bad but not tonight.

“Tempting. But tonight, you rest” he says softly, trying so hard not to kiss you down the mattress and hurt you so good for the whole night. But even though he would rather do filthy things to you, he reached for his robe and made you wear it to bed. “May I be forgiven before I sleep tonight?” he says, smiling weakly and pushing you slowly to the mattress. He sat next to you while waiting for your answer.

“Only if you forgive me from what I did”

He chuckled and got up from the bed to leave you finally so you could get your rest. “Then it's settled. Let’s start again tomorrow when I come home… if… I’ll still be alive” he says, and left a sweet smile.

They say that men who will go to war the next day never get a peaceful sleep not unless they exhaust themselves from pleasure and eventually sleep like a baby. And that’s when you realized that the prince of Egypt sacrificed his sleep for you. Now you feel even more guilty because you took away his very chance to sleep peacefully for the last time… if he dies in battle tomorrow.

But for Johnny, knowing that he put a decent woman in bed and earned her forgiveness is better than pleasure or getting to enjoy lust before a battle. You were sleeping like a baby, he thought. The whole night he sat on the chair beside his bed, guarding you, and admiring you. Until the sun finally showed up and it's time for him to go.

The battle was bloody as expect but Johnny did not expect that their army will fall on the first day of the war. His soldiers needed to take him back to the palace and protect him from there, even though he wanted to fight until his dying breath. Not run like a coward and let his men die.

The soldiers brought him back safely, but Johnny was not pleased. He arrived at the palace furious and more than angry to his general that he yelled at the nurse who is supposed to treat his wounds and his maids to clean all the blood and dirt on his face and body. Johnny is hurt, physically but his pride is crushed, and that hurts even more than his wounds.

He was repeating the battle plan and their strategy in his mind over and over again to look for holes, to look for people to blame but he just can’t. Until eventually he fell asleep even though he’s in so much pain.

“You” the head of the nurses points at you, “you treat his wounds. Or else his majesty will die because of infection and it will be on your account “ she gave you the things you needed to treat a wound properly, complete expensive materials and ointments to heal the bruises faster but the problem is you don’t how to use them. You’re not stupid and you know a thing or two, but the person whom you’re about to treat is not just anybody, and that makes you nervous alone.

Quietly, you entered his room. It was cold and only a few candles are lit and you see his majesty curled up in a ball. Vulnerable, in pain, and suffering emotionally.

Before you even touch him, this scenario reminded you about his kindness the other night. How he touched you so delicately and how he wiped the traces of expensive wine on your skin so gently. Now it's your turn. You started by stripping off his armor, the golds, and silvers that protect him until he’s exposed with nothing but the minimal cloth that covers his manhood.

Carefully, you wipe away the dirt on his face until his handsomeness is visible again, closely you make sure you did not miss a spot and clean him well. Touching his big arms almost felt like you’re committing a great sin, his chest looked so strong even though it’s covered with bruises now which you’re going to take care of in a few minutes.

Then he wakes up and he sees you treating his wounds.

Glad to see that it’s you who’s taking care of him because for some reason you make him soft. He let out a sharp sigh and in an instant, you were shaking for you thought he will shout at you. But no. “I think I may have a broken bone, can you help me get up?” he weakly asks you.

“O-of course,” you slightly panicked but you did your best to support him with all your strength.

“Give me some water,” he says and you followed, helping him drink so he wouldn’t move too much. "You know you’re not a maid here. You’re a gift. A gift to me” he says sternly like he wanted you to take his pride. “Thank you. For taking care of me in my vulnerable state, sleep beside me I’m in pain”

And without hesitation, you did. This time, it's you who’s guarding him to his sleep. Although it hurts you to watch him suffer like this, you didn’t have a choice but to further take care of him.

On the next day, the nurses treated him the right way and adjusted his broken bones which made him feel better in an instant. You thought you will be released by then because you’re completely useless to his majesty, but you realized that he’s only keeping you for his pleasure and nothing has happened between you two yet.

So in the meantime, you decided to make yourself useful and learn the basics of treating a wound and make sure you know exactly what you’re doing whenever his majesty feels any discomfort.

He healed for days. Did not speak for days. And still, he hasn’t touched you. Oh you wish he would already so you can guarantee your freedom. Your family should be worried by now and probably thinks that you’re already dead. You can’t help but think about your family, your ill father and your younger brothers who need you, in which you can only sigh as you think about it while you take a breather at the palace terrace.

“I bring good news,” a voice disturbed you and your thoughts, “we are winning the war,” he said weakly.

“Ah. But you don’t sound so pleased? May I ask why?” you turned around to face the prince and slowly came closer to him.

“Because I am here resting and healing while my men fight in the war when I should be leading them” the disappointment in his voice is obvious. He pulled you closer to seek comfort, holding you by the waist and keeping himself calm by smelling your unique scent.

“Lead them once more when you’re healed. For now, rest so you can go in battle with them again. You’re next to your father, and if you die on that battlefield then who will lead us?” bravely you soothed his strong back, feeling him shiver once your fingertips made contact with his skin and your warm palm gives him great calm.

“You remind me of one specific person,” he says, and you wonder if it's one of his lovers, “you remind me of my mother. Who is a great queen of Egypt” and right then and there you feel guilty for judging a loving son who respects his mother so much. Hearing those words from him made you happy and proud of yourself because now you feel useful.

He pulls away from his soft embrace and looked deeply into your eyes, asking for permission to do something to you but he’s not saying anything. It’s his eyes who are doing the talking. “You may,” you said and let out a nervous giggle before the prince finally planted a kiss on your lips.

A kiss that’s wet and quick but made your whole body warm and you wish he would kiss you a little longer but who are you to request?

“I’ll take you somewhere private,” he said when he stopped the kiss and smirked.

And so in the middle of the night, you followed the prince to that private place he told you. Hand in hand you walk in the dark, exchanging whispers when you ask him something and he answers you.

“Close your eyes” he whispers and you followed immediately. Feeling him walk away for a few seconds and then he’s right behind you, feeling him motion you towards somewhere. And when you opened your eyes, what you just saw took your breath away.

A sky full of stars shining brightly and beautifully. You can’t take your eyes off of the sky because you’ve never seen anything like this and even though your neck already feels tired from looking up, you look a little bit longer and savor this very moment. “So this is where the prince of Egypt go whenever he’s tired? I assume?” you asked, smiling like a fool because you’re still mesmerized.

“Yes. This is where I think, hum a few songs, and be myself. No judging eyes, no wars- it’s quiet right? The only part of the palace where it’s really quiet. When I become pharaoh my room will be placed here and I will curse who dares to ruin my peace” he giggles to himself and points at the nearly done construction. The future bedroom of the new pharaoh, big, lavish, and peaceful. It suits him.

“I’m so tired of worrying and thinking about the future” he admitted weakly, closing his eyes and resting his head on yours. Embracing you from behind and caging you with his strong arms. Of course, this bold move made you nervous, the prince of Egypt is keeping you in his arms right now, who wouldn’t?

“Then you must rest,” you said and he only hummed and let out soft sighs.

“Can I have not only your lips but your whole being too?” he asked with the utmost care, careful not to offend you or make you feel like a whore. Then suddenly you feel his lips on your skin, cold lips that felt heavenly, soft lips that you imagine to be on yours. but he’s placing sweet kisses on your neck that made you gasp sharply, close your eyes and accept what he’s doing.

With heavy breaths and soft moans, you try so hard to let out a few words “Do you even need to ask? You’re the morning and evening star you should do as you please,” you croak.

And because you have given him your consent, his kisses became intense that you’re sure you felt his teeth brush on your skin. And because of the pretty sounds that he’s making it is very much obvious that he is enjoying himself especially now that his big hands are roaming free around your body. Kneading your breast and telling you that they’re soft while his mouth is near your ear and he nibbles your earlobe as he pleases.

He twirls you and made you face him before he devours your lips once again, kissing you with want and with a mixture of lust while motioning you towards the huge bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, making you stand still in front of him, “Virgin?” he asked shamelessly, you shook your head 'no' shyly. “Shame” he added before he stands up and removes his robe, exposing himself to you. Now you understand why everyone in Egypt lusts for him.

Gently he runs his hands on your shoulder, untying the knot that secures your dress and letting it fall down at your feet. “Beautiful,” he says.

The night wasn’t exactly hot but the prince made you sweat in bed the whole night. He was careful but all the things that he did to you were rough, he was very stressed and tired indeed. The way he kisses you, the way he bites your neck and mark you his, the way he holds you in place while he thrusts so roughly. All you can do is whine deliciously, groan and let out sharp gasps and heavy breaths.

Again, he was rough but you loved everything that he’s doing.

“Last one and I promise to give you rest,” he said with ragged breaths. Lips on the side of your face while his big hands knead your breast from behind and preventing you to fall on the mattress. You arch your back as much you can so you can manage to take the overstimulation and sensitivity but the prince is fucking you good that your knees are about to give up.

When he is so close to his sweet release, he pushed your body on the mattress and slapped your left ass cheek one too many times before he pulls out and pumps his cock away from your hole.

Weak. Tired and aching. You curl your body and hug yourself as you wait for the prince to cover you with his warmth again. But not long after he came down from his sweet release, he is holding you by the ankle and the next thing you know he is hooking his arms around your legs, spreading your folds and running his fingers on your wet slit while watching you lose your mind and beg for him. His tongue was heavenly and he was licking you slow like he’s waiting for you to calm down and accept the pleasure that he’s doing. Up and down, he licked you slow and listened to you wherever you want him on a certain spot. And when you had your sweet release and let out a high pitched moan, you did not beg for him to stop and you chose to overstimulate yourself.

“You sleep in my arms tonight,” he says, kissing you sweetly before he lies beside you and spread one arm to keep you close.

Although you're both exhausted and tired from pleasuring each other, that is not the reason why you and the prince stayed up until the sun is rising. The whole time, he was playing with your fingers, caressing your body and feeling his fingertips glide on your skin while he listens to you. Listening and not just hearing you talk. He was keeping the conversation with you, throwing you a lot of questions, hard and easy ones. It was his first time knowing someone he fucked.

“Tell me more” he says, leaving a kiss on your shoulder as you enjoy your comfort while you lie on your side and admire his godlike features. He was asking for more stories about your childhood because he didn’t have one. He was giving you kisses in exchange for your stories that make him feel alive and present in this world.

“Are you not tired?” you asked him with a smile.

“Talk until I fall asleep” he drags you near him so he can cage you with his strong arms and keep you close until he wakes up. He closes his eyes and waited for you to talk again, drawing small circles on your back so you know that he’s still awake.

“Paint, I love to paint,” you said, and told him stories about how the colors make you feel alive and whenever you paint, you feel free. You were talking and talking and talking until you got too carried away and did not notice that he had finally fallen asleep and you decided you should too.

In his arms, you slept well and dreamt about home. You see how your family welcomed you home and their faces were clear as day, almost as if you’re not dreaming. Ever since the prince showed you kindness, you’ve been sleeping better and for that you are thankful. But for now, your beautiful sleep needed to be disturbed for a very sweet kiss woke you up.

“You smile in your sleep,” the prince says, greeting you good morning and seeing his naked body first thing in the morning. You sat up from the mattress and covered yourself with the Egyptian cotton blanket, squinting your eyes to protect it from the bright sun. “Good morning my gift,” he greets you again, caressing your thigh under the blanket. Oh its too early to commit sin but the way he makes you feel good with his finger is inviting. “Spread your legs,” he says, and so you did.

Up and down he moves his two fingers in your very wet slit, you almost feel sorry for ruining these expensive sheets with your juices, but what can you do? The prince wants you soaked. “You were so amazing last night that I dreamt about you,” he came closer to you and removed his fingers to join you under the blanket and position himself in between your legs.

“You had me under the stars last night, are you going to have me under the sun too?” You asked with a playful tone, giggling under the covers with him and enjoying the closeness of your body. He is a big man, but his warm body feels good on top of you. Skin to skin, chest to chest, while his manhood is inside you. “You’re rather gentle now,” you added, letting out a soft moan and smiling weakly at him.

“It’s too early to be rough” he smiles and grabs your waist, thrusting deeper while he kisses your neck and marks you wherever he wants especially on your chest area, or swipe his tongue on you and devour your sweet lips.

“Thank you, I still ache from last night” you inform him, returning his sweet kisses with a smile and soft giggle that is soon replaced with a delicious moan.

“Apologies then, what do you feel now?” deeper and slower he goes. Making you feel every bit of him by stretching you so good while he holds your hand and kisses them while he thrusts. “Not going to l-last longer” he says and gave you a few sharp thrusts, making your breast bounce then did not hesitate to pull out and pumped his manhood away from you, ruining the expensive sheets with his thick cum.

He feels so warm and weak, groaning while you watch him pump his cock in front of you. What a sight. The prince looked so hot. All naked and glistening as the morning light shines upon him. “Do you know it's a crime to stare at me like that?” He asks with a smile. It was a joke but you can’t help but think that you’re lucky enough to see him like this, to look at him with lustful eyes to hold him whenever it pleases you.

“W-were not yet done?” you ask when you saw him spreading your legs again, oh his stamina is unbelievable. He didn’t answer your question but instead, he kisses your lower abdomen and kissed your body and breasts until he reaches your lips. And there’s that feeling again that the world is stopping whenever his lips touch yours, you like what’s happening and you don’t care if you’re not home anymore. Or maybe that’s the lust talking.

“Where did you learn how to kiss like that” it was not a question, he just simply wanted to let you know that your kisses do something to him. And while kissing you, the prince felt something he has never felt before. He was quite sure that it’s called admiration and want. He is slowly becoming possessive with every swipe of his tongue on your lips, he is slowly falling into your charms with every touch of your hands on his chest and the way your hands roam around like he is yours.

“I know I promised your freedom but can you stay a little longer?” he kisses your hands and kept them close to his heart. A gesture that is saying he is requesting, asking politely, and leaving you the decision because he respects you.

“I’ll stay” you answered without hesitation because it is what your heart wants. He has been nice to you, although he needed to put an act first but his true colors were inviting. “With two conditions,” you added, stopping him from attacking you with kisses.

“No lies and don’t die whenever you go to war,” you said sternly to which he’s very happy to hear.

After that beautiful morning, you and the prince spend your entire day naked in his comfortable bed, enjoying the lovely weather of Egypt and its calm breeze. Talking and exchanging stories, knowing each other deeper and accepting each other through honesty.

Then night after night the prince have you on every corner of his room or wherever he pleases. Making beautiful and lustful memories all around the palace. And whenever you’re both clothed and decent, he walks with you and shows everyone that you now have a special place in his life, something you’re never going to get used to but slowly it sinks in. You started dressing up in expensive clothes because he says so, giving you expensive jewelry all around your wrists and your neck. But most importantly, he is giving you more reasons to stay with him.

One fine day while you were waiting for Johnny with a book in your hand, he arrived very excited and was in a rush to bring you somewhere. Perhaps another secret place where he can fuck you? Or a surprise picnic? You really have no clue. But when you finally arrived at the place where he is very much excited to show you, every wild guess disappeared for you know exactly what the place is for.

Different colors of vibrant pigments, all came in different sizes. Paintbrushes from small to big ones made with soft hairs. And the canvas… is the place itself. “Johnny, this place is huge. I feel so small,” you said, feeling dizzy with how high the walls are but you are very much excited to paint on those.

“Paint all you want from now on, I know how you miss your home. I hope this will suffice” he gently pats your head, cup your face, and kissed you. “I have to go somewhere… dangerous again” he informs you, hoping to get a positive reaction from you.

Well, you can’t stop him and you know that all too well. You were quiet and if you’re being honest you don’t know what to say, but you do know that you want him to go home in one piece. “Remember your promise,” is all you can say to him.

“I won’t die” he giggles and intertwines your fingers with his.

When the prince left the next morning, you can’t help but worry for him and be scared that something bad might happen. But whenever you remember his bright smile when he promised you he won’t die, your heart warms instantly and you can finally get on with your day.

Using the gifts that the prince left you, you painted for hours and hours, from sun up until sundown. Sleeping on the floor next to the paints rather than the huge and comfortable bed because you can’t handle the cold there. And whenever you’re taking a rest from painting, you still spend your time alone rather than make friends and talk to the maids.

It was lonely when Johnny is not around. You don’t know when will he arrive, and worrying will do no good so you waited patiently instead. Day after day you did the same things. Paint, eat alone, be alone, paint some more and sleep on the cold floor.

Until finally, a pair of arms surprised you, encircled perfectly on your waist and you can finally feel that familiar warmth again. You put down the paintbrush and tried turning around to welcome him home with kisses but he stopped you. “I look filthy” he said, but you did not care and still turned around.

To your surprise, you almost did not recognize him. His face is full of dirt and blood, small and big bruises on his face but thankfully no broken bones this time. He was quiet. No sweet kisses for you and obviously he’s tired. “We both look dirty” he giggles and reached for your hand to wipe off the paint from it, “what you did here is beautiful” he said and pulls you to a hug which you returned without having second thoughts.

He recognizes your paintings. He is sure that it's from your home, memories from home to keep you happy perhaps. Johnny searched for anything or something that says you missed him too while he’s away, perhaps a sunflower? But he found none. Little did he know, that you missed him terribly too that you chose to sleep on the floor.

After your quick reunion, you washed his face, treated his wounds and decided to take a warm bath together. The silence was deafening and so you talked and talked until he finally says something.

“Do I make you happy?” he asks sincerely while scrubbing your back and pouring warm water on your skin. Bathing with him brings you a different kind of calm. You nod your head ‘yes’ to answer his question, caressing his thighs underwater. Then you feel him kiss your neck softly and encircle his arms on your waist underwater.

“I’m setting you free” he says.

And those words made your heart ache in an instant that you turned and faced him with worried eyes. You should be happy by now because finally you can be free and see your family, but why are you sad? He just came back and now you’re going to be separated again?

“But” he added which made you nervous even more.

“It pains me to let you go. That’s why I promise to take care of you and love you day and night… if you choose to stay” you always see him as an honest and sincere man but now his sincerity is different. It has a mixture of hurt and hopelessness like he already knew you’re going to leave him that’s why he made such an offer and confessed in the middle of a huge bathroom and while taking a bath.

“A few months ago, I told you I’ll stay and that’s not because I’m doing you a favor but because I really wanted to stay with you. I’m still choosing to stay-“

He cut you off with sweet kisses until water splashed on you and him, there are tears in his eyes but it wasn’t visible because of the water. Happy tears that only you can give him.

And that is how your story with Johnny started. It started with doing what your heart wants with all honesty, choosing to love each other and stay together. After that very momentous bath, he became Johnny to you and not the prince of Egypt, but the man you chose to love from now on.

YEARS LATER

Life with Johnny was never easy but it was full of love and he had kept his promise. Everyday, day and night he loved you more and more each day. And eventually, fucking was replaced by passionate love making which something you both love doing.

“So good” he groans and lets out soft moans while you bounce your body on top of him, driving him crazy and make him beg for more. You intertwined your fingers with his, sucking his fingers while your roll your hips deliciously. He can be rough with you in order to drive him mad, but you, you need only lustful eyes, your womanhood, and your tongue.

“Ooooh-“ he groaned a little louder than before and shoots his thick cum inside you while you drill your hips make sure you won’t miss a drop. “I hope you get pregnant this time” he said with ragged breaths, encircling his arms around you and placed sweet kisses on your face and on your lips.

You’ve been trying to have a child now but the gods are not in favor of it, so you and Johnny decided to try until you succeed. Usually, one round is not enough for the both of you but when you both realized that it’s going to be like this forever, there is no need to exhaust yourselves anymore because you can simply make love again tomorrow.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how many babies are we going to have in the future?” your question made him laugh. The sound of his giggles vibrates on your body because you’re too close with each other and you can’t help but laugh with him too.

“A lot,” he simply answers your question and kisses you before he covers your body with a thicker blanket.

Life with Johnny is sweet, not because you’re now comfortable and he showers you with gold. But because he showers you with the love you deserve and he now takes care of your family too and even provided your father’s medicine. Even though you haven’t seen them in years, now they know that you’re in good hands for you write to them and let them know that you’re well. But for Johnny’s safety, you didn’t dare tell them that you are in a relationship with him.

It may be sweet and comfortable for you, but it is not always like this. Of course, there are hard times that you have to face with Johnny. Like when his advisors see you as his whore and not someone whom he truly loves, when his father did not accept you and almost took away Johnny’s right to the throne, and when you planned on running away so the people around him can stop doubting him as the future ruler. All these problems but Johnny chose you. Always.

“I love you”

He whispers and caressed your face while watching you sleep. Having one last look before he starts his day without you and faces yet another stressful day.

Now that his coronation is getting near, many people have been seeking his attention and had been trying to rebel against him. He may be a great fighter, and he honors the throne, but the people around him do not see him as someone who can rule and solve the nation’s problems.

Heartbroken. That’s what he feels when he thinks about being king in the next few weeks.

“My uncle and cousins are active lately, seeking the people of Egypt’s hearts, courting them, and feeding them lies. My own family... is planning to overthrow me” he informs you. Frustrated and stressed beyond you could have ever imagined. It pains you to see him like this.

“I am no advisor. But be strong my love and still do your best to rule, prove them wrong” you encourage him, trying your best to give him strength. But all he gave you is a sly smile and a kiss on the forehead, leaving you to go and study more about the things he should know for his kingdom until eventually, you find him asleep on his desk. Shivering from a cold night and all you can do is put a blanket around him.

After a few weeks, Johnny is crowned king of Egypt. A celebration that’s very beautiful but you’re not allowed to stand near him because you’re a slave and people will recognize you. But you know all too well that Johnny imagines you being on his side.

They say that the crown is naturally heavy but if it weighs too much that even your heart can’t carry it, then you are not fit to rule. And that is exactly what Johnny feels right now, but trying is the most important thing for him. Running away from his duty is not him. He will continue to try and be a better pharaoh than his father.

“Where have you been?” you giggle and soothe his strong arms that are encircled around your waist. Accepting the kisses he’s giving to you for it has been far too long since the last time you’ve been together alone. He had been working hard for his nation, he looked tired than ever.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful” he says while looking at the sunflowers you painted on the walls. A thousand sunflowers for the gods, in exchange for Johnny’s safety… or a child, if they permit. “I visited our room last night, but you weren’t there. I knew you were here but I needed to go already. I’ve missed you so much” he turned your body so he could see you finally, cleaning your hands full of paint with his own clothes. A gesture that simply tells you that whenever he’s with you he’s just a simple man who loves you so much and not the king of Egypt.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I’m in a rush to finish this so I can finally offer something to the gods and they can grant me my wish” you rake his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, that’s not how a future queen of Egypt should behave, my love” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, picking up the used paintbrushes and cleaning them.

Then you realized he said something.

“Say that again, my love” you request as you watch him come closer to you with a smile. “Was that a question? You never addressed me as someone-“

“Will you marry me? Be the queen of Egypt and become my wife? Be my best advisor, help me to be a better man?” he finally said it. Straight forward and will all honesty, as always.

“Y-yes. Of course, I would like to be your wife. But your people won’t allow it,” you answered excitedly. Eyes with tears that continuously flow. He cupped your face and thanked you for saying yes, not caring about your concern for he doesn’t care what others will say.

The celebration of being engaged is continued in your shared room with wine, fruits, hope, and dreams. It was a night a fun night with your future husband where you enjoy the company of each other after such a long time. Johnny made sure that you made the right decision and promised you a better life.

“What more could be better? We have everything already Johnny” you put a grape in his mouth before you lie beside him.

“What was your prayers to the gods again?” he asks, out of nowhere. To be honest you did not expect he would be interested. “Maybe I can give it to you instead?” he added and it instantly made your heart full.

“My first prayer is, for your safety wherever you go. Nothing scares me the most than knowing that wherever you go, your life is always in danger my love” he tightens his embrace, silently thanking the gods for bringing you into his life.

“And the second?”

You breathe deeply first before you answer him, “A baby… but your safety comes first” you said sternly, pointing at his chest and drilling your pointer finger on his skin so he knows how scared you are. He caught your hand and kiss it one too many times.

“I love you, I promise to be careful so we can make babies during our marriage,” he promised sincerely.

On the next day, Johnny’s first agenda was to tell everyone about the good news. At least its a good news for him, but not for everyone. His father, advisors and other members of the elite society were disappointed upon hearing that he wants to marry a slave.

When Johnny became king, all of Egypt starved. That’s why everyone thinks that being married to a slave and throwing a big wedding is not appropriate.

“Do you think I’m a pushover? I am the morning and evening star, your king, and I kept this nation together and kept it safe with all my power. You owe me your lives. And I am not seeking your approval, I am simply telling you that I am to be married to the woman I love. Besides, I don’t want to see your faces on my wedding day and ruined it for me”

Silence ate the room and only the sound of afternoon winds surrounds the room. “Dismissed” he commands and they immediately left, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts.

The wedding was simple and private because it is what you wanted and thankfully Johnny is not a fan of grand celebrations too. You both thought that the gods will spare your wedding day and give you a peaceful day just this once. But no, because a murder took place in the palace and it happened while you and Johnny are enjoying your wedding night.

He is deep inside you, thrusting roughly but with care at the same time. Hands on your waist to keep you in position as he fucks you from behind and leave kisses on your shoulders.

You were moaning so good, while you grip the sheets and part your lips, telling your husband how you feel and beg for more.

Until his advisors entered the room uninvited and have no care for privacy. Johnny quickly covered your body and hid you behind him. “YOU HAVE NO RESPECT!” He shouted so loud that you were sure everyone in the palace heard him.

But still, his advisors did not move an inch and waited for him to stop shouting.

“Our king... y-your parents have been murdered”

And that is when everything turned black in Johnny’s eyes. He put on his robe, ran towards his parent's room and saw the gruesome murder.

He didn’t understand why but he was heartbroken and very much angry that he punished all the guards on duty that night and everyone staying at the palace except you.

Well, you wouldn’t think that you’re not being punished. You’ve been feeling sick for days already and you have been having morning sickness more often. Then you realized you haven’t bled yet and immediately called a nurse, a good friend whom you can trust to confirm if you are with child.

You are.

And that is your punishment. Knowing that your prayer has been answered but Johnny is grieving and is away from you. Not seeing your husband and knowing that he’s out there punishing people, punishing innocent people makes your heart break. Apparently, asking for a peaceful life is too much.

Finally, Johnny found out who plotted his parent’s murder. And it is no other than his cousins who wanted him to give up the throne. And because of that, his anger grew much worse. Now he does not only punish people but also put them to death for Johnny believes that he is being betrayed by the people around him.

It has become the darkest time in Egypt.

“The is the only place that I can show my weak and grieving side. I’m so tired, my love. This is not me but all of Egypt is mad and wants to kill me. What can I do?” You hush him and gave him a tight embrace which he accepted and returned. “Do you want to kill me too?” He asks you and you can’t believe you’re hearing this from him.

“Never. I did not paint a thousand sunflowers for the gods so that I can wish you to be gone” you sat on his lap and reached for his hand, putting it above your belly. Hoping that he understands what you’re saying.

He did. But he wasn’t happy.

And all you can do is understand him because he is going through so much right now.

“The gods must hate me so much to give us a child during these dark times” he said bitterly.

You didn’t have a choice but to get up from his lap and place a kiss on his temple. You may miss him. So much. But it is useless to have a conversation with someone who’s full of hatred towards the world.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m blinded with anger” he tried reaching for your hand but you refuse and lie on your side of the bed. Closing your eyes and remembering the happy memories you had with him over the years.

“Do you know what’s on my mind?” you did not answer him, “I would like to give up the throne and live a simple and fruitful life with you but I can’t. Kings don’t run away from battles” he says. Keeping you close and leaving kisses on your clothed stomach. Chanting apologies and saying how much he loves you before you both sleep.

Day after day, Johnny became even more scared for you and especially for your child. Now that you have a chance to be a family, Johnny is even more obsessed with fixing everything using his own ways but everything is not going according to plan. The assassins weren’t satisfied yet and they have been killing innocent people that Johnny trusts. And his cousins won’t admit the crime that they have been doing for Johnny lacks proof. It frustrates him greatly.

Now that you’re with child he stays with you from sun up, to sundown. He doesn’t care if people are uncomfortable with seeing the king with a slave, all that matters now is your safety. He is scared to the bone that he carries his sword around him and does not go to sleep so he could guard you in your sleep.

“I used to do this during your first nights here. I guard you in your sleep and watch you smile as you dream. But that’s maybe because back then we have peace. I’m sorry I can’t give you a peaceful life”

As Johnny continues to think of many ways on how to protect you, he kept you hidden in your museum and watched you paint. It calms him. And as he looks around the place, he looked long and hard at your artwork and remember the days when you used to miss home. Then he realized that it is the only way to keep you safe. The only problem is you will not agree on it.

“You do know that when I leave and they found out that you’re all alone now, they will not stop until they kill you then take your throne” you said sternly. Hearing his plan about sending you home makes you angry and misses him already.

“As long as I fight until the end. The only way to stop them and keep you safe is to give them the satisfaction of killing me. No one knew about our child, please listen to me my love. This is the only way that I can give our child a peaceful life” he begs.

You don’t want to admit that he is right and you don’t have any other choice now. But leaving him pains you greatly, that even just thinking about it scares you.

Eventually, you and Johnny plotted your escape and made you go home safe. With the help of your family and a few soldiers, they managed to get you out of the palace without anyone noticing it. But you can’t let go of Johnny’s hand. You kissed and kissed until there's no more time left to be together. You said your goodbyes and final promises to each other and accept your fate.

“I’ll find you in our second life, whatever happens. Live my love, live happily” he says and removed your tight grip before he disappears with his soldiers. And that is your last memory of the man you loved.

It was the darkest moment for the both of you.

Johnny knew that being away from you will not be easy and it will make him weak in an instant. In fact, it made him crazy. Everyday, he goes to your museum and seeks comfort with your paintings. Constantly thinks about you and pray that you are well and healthy.

“Finally, you’re safe” he murmured.

After a few days, the news that the king is dead has spread all across Egypt and everyone celebrated. Everyone except you and the few people who knew the truth about the assassination in the palace. Hearing them celebrate sickens you for they don’t know how Johnny struggled to keep his nation alive and safe and that he is not the enemy, the true enemy is the one sitting on the throne now.

Hearing that he was assassinated in your museum broke your heart for you knew that he longed for you until his dying breath.

After all, the thousand sunflowers you painted for the gods did not go to waste. But it was your second wish that they granted and not the first.

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issaxcharlie · 4 years ago

Text

Always You

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Summary: {We Play Pretend Series} Charlie decides to stop overthinking and finally proposes to his best friend at his very own way.

Songs Used: Black and White by Niall Horan and I’ll Follow You by Echosmith

Word Count: +2k

Charlie finally finishes preparing the fire as Y/N comes out of the tent in his orange hoodie, one of his bandanas adorning her high ponytail. Her dazzling smile blanks him for a few seconds, and the day he asked her to be his girlfriend for the first time appeared on the back of his head.

He was maybe even more nervous than he is right now, and he blurted out the question without realizing it. It wasn't until Y/N jumped into his arms and pressed her lips against his that he finally understood what was happening. That day was the happiest day of his life, but then it was overcome by the day their paths crossed again, then by the day they became a couple again, then by the day they moved in together, and if everything goes well, now it will be overcome by this one. He smiles fondly at the memories. One thing is for sure, with Y/N everything always gets better.

She sits next to him, reaching out to sink her face into her boyfriend's neck. When he suggested for them to take a little camping trip before they returned to Canada for the holidays, she said yes without hesitation. First of all, because she loves to experience moments like this with him. Memories of all the times they camped in the Gillespie's backyard when they were children lighting up her heart. And secondly, because she knows that he needs the peace and calm that being here gives him, after all, she has no doubt that Charlie has planned to propose to her during the trip back home.

“Did you enjoy the day? I know you wanted to rest before the trip, it means a lot to me that you agreed to come.” He confessed while wrapping his arm around her, lifting the hoodie slightly to caress the sensitive skin on her waist.

“Char, we spent hours blasting our favorite albums, we elegantly ate ridiculously delicious gas station hotdogs, you spilled the soda down your pants which was quite entertaining, and now I'm under the stars by your side on a beautiful night. If you ask me, this is the perfect day.” She declares without hesitation, raising her head a little to give him a soft kiss in his jawline.

Charlie blushes, happiness flooding his soul just as always with his precious girl. “I couldn’t agree more. Everyday I get to spend with you is a perfect one.” She smirks at his words, her raised eyebrow indicates she's ready to fight him.

"Oh yeah? Even the time I convinced you that Santa was obviously born in Canada and we searched for his house all over the city?" He snorts thinking about two really small ten year olds doing mischief around the town.

"You had very convincing arguments. Shame our parents didn’t think the same and punished us for a month."

“It’s not really punishment if we get to spend it together anyways.” Y/N added, remembering all the hours of fun they managed to have in the Gillespie’s leaving room.

"They had no other choice, we were attached by the hips. I mean, we tried to elope and live in the park a year earlier just because we were sick of saying goodbye every night.” Charlie reminds her while breaking into laughter.

“Mom had to convince us to come back, telling us that one day we could get married and be together in a way nicer place than the park. And you didn’t believe her because what could be nicer than the park?” Y/N recalls, the image of their 9 year old selves swinging with their backpacks full of important prized possessions like Charlie's collection of rocks or Y/N’s toy microphone making them laugh.

“She had to explain to me everything about that marriage thing she was talking about on the way home.” Charlie says with a smile.

“And then you propose a few days later in your backyard, with a red ring pop and a beautiful original song you played on your guitar.” She hugs him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I was nine, I'm sure it wasn’t beautiful. It probably didn't even make sense. But, I wrote it with a lot of love, just for you to eat the ring five minutes later.” He calls her out, sticking out his tongue in a playful way.

“And I’ll do it again.” He pretends to be offended but Y/N just needs to kiss him and whisper that she loves him against his lips for him to smile again. “We were quite intense children, huh?”

His eyes light up, and he winks cheekily. “We still are.”

Charlie gently kisses her hair and gets up to take his guitar, meanwhile she sits a little further away from him to give him enough room to play, and he tries to control the shaking of his hand while playing a soft sound he has been working on.

Once he finally calmed down a little, he starts to play the song he drove so far away to play, deciding it’s time. “That first night we were standing at your door, fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you. Ask me if I want to come inside, 'cause we didn't want to end the night. Then you took my hand, and I followed you.” Y/N had never heard that song before, which immediately surprises her because they live together, how come she never heard it? She puts attention to the lyrics and realizes he is talking about the night they became a couple again, after the Stand Tall presentation.

“Yeah, I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standing in your dress, swear in front of all our friends there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.” Then everything clicks. How nervous he has been all day, his "sudden" desire to camp before the holidays, the eyes full of emotion with which he has looked at her all night. And suddenly this day is even more perfect than she ever believed it could be.

“Now, we're sitting here in your living room, telling stories while we share a drink or two. And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind, we're 65 and you ask when did I first know?" Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, the purest smile she has ever had stuck on her face. “I always knew.” They whisper at the same time in a broken voice, Charlie trying very hard not to cry at their matched answer so he can finish the song.

“I want the world to witness, when we finally say I do. It's the way you love, I gotta give it back to you. I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.”

He finishes the song, puts down the guitar while taking a deep breath and kneels carefully in front of her. “It has always been you. It was you when we were 8 years old and only you could borrow my best crayons, It was you when we were 16 and I learned to drive because you had no one to take you to your auditions, and It was you when we were 22 and I asked you to move in with me because I couldn’t stand be apart from you again. You are the only one with whom I feel as ecstatic as when I jump into the sea, and all you have to do is look at me to achieve it. You are light, Y/N. This beautiful bright star that for some reason, always chooses me. I love you so much, beautiful. You are the love of my life, It will always be you.”

She can't stop the tears falling down her face, her hand lovingly caressing the cheek of the man in front of her. "Y/N Y/L, will you marry me?" She doesn’t give him time to react and joins their lips hard, trying desperately to make him feel everything she is feeling in those moments. He responds fervently, taking her with one hand firmly by the thigh while with the other caresses her neck, confidently putting his hand inside the hoodie.

She bites his pouty lower lip to smoothly slide her tongue, and he strokes her breasts gently before removing his hand from the collar of her clothing. When they finally separate to breathe, Y/N's eyes move to what Charlie is holding in front of her, a precious ring dangling from a golden chain that she has apparently been wearing as a necklace for who knows how many hours.

“Yes, yes, yes. I would always choose you Char.” Y/N gets up and helps Charlie to his feet, only to pull him close and bring his body against hers, her hands entwining in his hair while his arms wrap around her hips. His face shining with happiness. “The necklace was a smart move. Since when have I been wearing it?” She asks while staring deeply at his dazzling green eyes.

“You are unable to keep a ring on your finger for more than three days, there was no other option. I put it on after you fell asleep on the road.”

"This is the first time you managed to fool me. I totally thought you were going to propose in Canada."

“I know it wasn't glamorous but-”

“Shh, it was perfect. The song is beautiful, the ring looks just as I always dreamed of and you are all I want and more. I have never been happier. Heck, you could have asked me this morning while we were in our pajamas watching cartoons and I would have cried with joy anyway. Char, you're everything I need.” He kisses her deeply, releasing all the emotions that had had him stressed throughout the day, enjoying the company of his future wife and the way that only she knows how to melt him.

He lets go briefly to search something in his phone, and the melody he just played starts to fill the comfortable silence.

“It’s my favorite song already.” She whispers against his lips, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all yours, just like me.” Both laugh at how cheesy it sounded, dancing in each other's arms under the stars. Silently thanking God for having found their soulmate in this life.

Although he swears he has enough energy to dance the night away, after an hour Y/N notices just how tired Charlie actually is, and drags him to the tent to get some rest.

“Baby, I’m okay. I want to celebrate all night with you.” He whispers in her ear, catching her by the waist the moment she leans his head against the pillow to prevent her from getting up.

“Easy there, tiger. You can't even keep your eyes open. You drove nonstop for hours without complaining once just because you know I don't like driving. You did the hardest work with the tent and the fire, plus all the time we spent hiking. You need to rest.” His grasp on her loosens and she moves quickly to his side. He turns over his shoulder and leans on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She smiles at the sight and starts to softly play with his curls while singing him to sleep. “I fell in love at first sight, green eyes that fix it all. Your heart, it feels it all.” All the times she seeked the comfort in his beautiful eyes during the years replaying in her head. The way they shined with love and confusion that first day at the jatp bootcamp replaying in her mind.

“And I, I can't believe that you're mine.” She lets go of his hair to admire the ring around her neck with more attention, but his hand instantly reaches for hers and puts it back on his hair, making her chuckle. “You take away every breath. I can't believe I'm still speechless.” She whispers, planting small kisses on his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as she wraps him in her arms.

“Charles Gillespie, It will always be you.”

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15 @magnet-girl @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05 @twist3dtinkerbell @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01 @lunashadow6955 @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner @calamitykaty @owensgoathat @magicalxdaydream @sunsetcurvej @ss-tipton @rangerelik @badwolf00593 @fobobozobo @justalittleweirdoo

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie imagines #luke jatp #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fic

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brattyfics · 3 years ago

Text

— until we meet again, preciosa

PAIRING || bishop losa x black!ofc, miguel galindo x black!ofc (mentioned)

SUMMARY || She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

TAGS || angst, unresolved feelings, not a hea, mentions of toxic relationships, sex (referenced).

WORD COUNT || 1.6k

Shadowy clouds hang overhead, blocking out the warming glow of the Sun. Raindrops pelt the roof above, drumming a beat of their own before pooling down to the concrete paved streets below. Isis watches stray droplets gather on the tall windows for several moments before stepping out onto the covered balcony. It felt colder than usual inside the three-story, Spanish-style shophouse, but outside it’s the opposite-- balmy, earthy. The air is heavy with humidity, so she has to take deep breaths, but she doesn’t enjoy it any less. Invigoration comes with the rain, brings hope for new beginnings, renews faith for the hopeless.

Down below, people dart between vendors to continue their shopping as the rain lightens. Colorful rays spring from puddles up towards the sky. A pair of young siblings splash each other while their mother sells delicious smelling tamales wrapped in banana leaves. Another young woman peddles gold necklaces, praying candles, and other little knick-knacks to the tourists of Sonora. Everybody has to make a living, including Isis.

She spends her days stroking the strings of a guitar or the keys of her piano, helping patrons of the music shop in between. The ground floor of the shophouse boasts string instruments and an extensive collection of vinyl records. After hours, she makes money hosting private piano lessons. She performs at the Discoteca down the street on weekends, fueling her passion for music almost 24/7 except when Preciosa is closed for ‘maintenance’.

Overstock merchandise and whatever else the Mayans’ Motorcycle Clubs needs to store clutters the second floor. Don’t ask, don’t tell is her motto, so whenever they come to the shop, she simply flips the sign to closed. There’s no point in fighting it. Besides, El Presidente always makes it a bearable, if not pleasant, experience. Bishop had called ahead to warn her that he was bringing Hank, Angel, and the new prospect, Angel’s baby brother, along. She could hear them bumping around, a noisy reminder that her shop only thrived because of the illegal deals happening in the back.

“Why don’t you put all that time and energy into something that’ll get you somewhere?” Being a musician wasn’t an acceptable career in her mother’s eyes, so the woman took every chance she could to crush her daughter’s dreams. “Nobody wants to hear all that noise!” Staring out into the street, she can’t help but wonder where she would’ve ended up if her mother had been supportive. Maybe she could have been a star rising to the top of Billboard charts or someone who worked behind the scenes, writing songs, singing demos. She had the skill set. Yes, her path would have been much different.

Isis had stood front and center, crooning out an old school blues song at a hole-in-the-wall spot when Miguel Galindo first laid eyes on her. It was a chance meeting, one that felt like fate at the time because dive bars weren’t his scene. The owner was a business associate who decided to try his hand at being a restaurateur; Miguel had been kind enough to come out and support. When he caught sight of her shapely frame in a slinky, satin number, he insisted on being introduced.

Miguel stood out in a crowd, wearing a tailored button-down, dark dress pants, and an expensive pair of Italian leather shoes. His salt and pepper beard groomed to perfection, hair gelled so that no strand was out of place. The moment she’d looked into his eyes, she was caught in his web. His masculine scent drew her in like honey to a bee. His charisma held her attention. Miguel sweet-talked her all night, insisting Isis sit next to him, eat h’orderves, and drink overpriced champagne. She obliged. Who could say no to that face? He used their close proximity to reel her in like a fish on a hook, leaning down to whisper in her ear. You’re beautiful. He told her. You have such a smooth, seductive tone. You should be performing for bigger crowds. Have you ever thought about branching out? He told her everything her mother never had, so she was a lamb to the slaughter.

For months, Miguel had treated her like his very own LifeSize doll to play with. He took her on shopping sprees, kept her draped in silk and lace. Isis didn’t think of herself as materialistic, but she couldn’t deny being showered in gifts felt splendid. He was always so tender, handling her delicately as his newest prized possession. As time went on, she became more like an ornament. Something for him to marvel at when he felt like it and then hide away the rest of the time. But nothing was worse than him leaving her to harden after he was finished molding her like clay. She asked for more—time, commitment, only for him to do the opposite.

Thus, Preciosa was born. A way for him to placate her and later make it easier for the M.C. to make him money.

“Just a few more minutes, and we’ll be out your way.” Isis jumped at the sound, turning away from the street to see Bishop. She hadn’t heard him come outside; didn’t expect him to venture up into her personal space.

Isis’ smile rarely reached her eyes, Bishop noticed. He stepped forward, holding a velvet box that felt heavier than it was. Her fingertips tickled him as he passed it over. Diamonds surrounded in white gold gleamed as the clouds cleared away for the Sun. Even Bishop could admit the set was gorgeous, but she didn’t look impressed. He hated being Galindo’s delivery boy, watching the way her face fell when the gifts she received became increasingly impersonal with each week. Not long ago, he’d also been tasked with passing along handwritten love notes or antique music sheets that she caressed like she would a lover’s skin.

“Thank you.”

She couldn’t hide her disappointment from him. Not for lack of trying-- Miguel always reminded her, appearances were everything. Smile. Don’t make me look bad. But Bishop watched her closely, knew her tells. Despite every nerve in his brain urging him to walk away, he steps forward to stand next to her. His calloused hands rest on the balcony’s edge next to her delicate pair, brown in varying tones of sepia and mahogany contrasting against the white paint.

Bishop feels the heat of her eyes on his frame, but he doesn’t let himself respond. Sharing this moment, a quick breath of fresh air will have to be enough. But she’s all around him, smelling of florals and sweet spices. He can’t think. He fumbles with his pockets in search of a cigarette. “You mind?” She shakes her head but is otherwise silent. Still watching him as he smokes; the way he takes long, steady pulls, cradling the stick between his full lips and then between his strong, veined fingers. She would bet her last dollar that he was an expert at other things involving his fingers and mouth.

When his hand drops again, she links her pinky with his, hesitant but exploratory.

Bishop looks at her, really looks at her like he sees her. It’s nice to be seen, especially when you’re the princess locked up far, far away from everyone you’ve ever known. She’s a black girl from Texas living in Sonora for goodness’ sake. This is no life, and she knows it. Several moments pass where neither can look away, both weighing their desires with the potential consequences.

With a deep breath in, she musters up the courage to ask Bishop what she’s been wanting to for months.

“Stay?”

Her heart feels like it might just explode while she waits for a response.

Bishop drops his head to his chest, cursing under his breath. “Fuck.” If Miguel ever found out… But he already knew what his answer would be. He’d been waiting for the invitation. The heated looks they exchanged, the way her fingers lingered on his when he passed her something. That damned pout she wore when Miguel forgot to send a flower arrangement-- she had no idea Bishop had been the one buying the flowers for some time now. No matter what mood she was in, fresh flowers always brightened her day. He loved watching that lonely look transform into something more lively, curious as she marveled over his choice for the week. He went for variety, slowly learning what she loved and what she just liked; her favorite color, favorite scent.

The subtle tension between them, he wasn’t even certain she noticed. The cash and the bling could’ve blinded her to all other men. But it didn’t.

When the Sun had gone down several hours later, and the guys were gone, Bishop redressed. Belt buckling with a clink, leather sliding over his shoulders easily. He let himself take one last look at her wrapped up in a poofy comforter set. The mustard-yellow velvet complimented her skin in the best way, bringing out a gold undertone. Her eyes seem to have brightened as well. He couldn’t resist leaning over to stroke her sweaty skin. Dark coils stuck to her beautiful face, frizzy in some parts from when she rode him, sweat escaping from her pores, flat in the others from when he laid her on her back and hooked her legs over her shoulders.

He wants to stay, to prop himself up against the intricately carved wood headboard and hold her in his lap while they whisper sweet nothing to each other, but he can’t.

She’s not his, and she won’t ever be, so he leaves her with words whispered like a promise. “Until we meet again, preciosa.”

NOTES || This fic and the collage above was inspired by @isisafrofairy’s gorgeous moodboard! Also, the wonderful “Until we meet again, preciosa” line is hers as well. This is my thank you for the moodboard you made for me. I really leaned on the pictures you used for inspiration and I think I managed to capture/include each element. It was so hard not to ruin the surprise, but I was able to shut tf up for once 😂 I’m really proud of how this turned out, and hopefully you enjoy it just as much! Also, I realize the moodboard had nothing to do with Miguel but he lives in my head rent-free apparently 🥴

GENERAL TAGLIST || @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes @amorestevens

MAYANS M.C. TAGLIST || @cant-decide-at-this-moment

#mayans mc #bishop losa x oc #miguel galindo x oc #bishop losa x ofc #bishop losa x black!ofc

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years ago

Text

-Cold- Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: First Loki imagine, let’s do this. DISCLAIMER. MOST OF THE DIALOGUE FROM THE CANONICAL CHARACTERS IS TAKEN DIRECTLY FROM THE MOVIE TO MAKE IT MORE REALISTIC. YOU CAN TELL WHICH PARTS I WROTE AND DIDN’T WRITE. OKAY? okayyyy

Movie/Show: Thor: Ragnarok- but you somehow know strange. Don’t question me lmao.

Summary: while staying with Dr. Strange for a bit, you end up meeting your old friend again, Thor. What you don’t expect is too meet with his adopted brother Loki. Who turns out to be your perfect match (Vague for reasons)

Possible Triggers / Warnings: Very long story, Slowburn, Steven and Tony being a dad, cursing, Val being kinda great

☼-☪-☼

sometimes being stuck in the avengers base was.....stressful. with Vision being like a newborn baby around everything, you constantly had to help him understand certain things. Like a microwave or a stove since he wanted to learn how to cook for Wanda. Kinda cute actually.

you could hear Natasha cry at night about Bruce vanishing during the battle against Ultron. You tried to comfort hr once or twice, but she was adamant about handling it on her own. You wish you could have helped more. It’s not like you could hug her without layers of clothing covering almost every inch of your skin.

oh yeah, the whole reason you were even there is because Tony Stark had found you with Wanda and Pietro. You were slightly different from them, no telekinesis, telepathy, or enhanced agility and reflexes. Your mercular DNA was ripped apart then put back together with enhancements, unique ones.

your body was now able to freeze anything with just a touch and manipulate it, but with all powers. There were side effects. You couldn’t touch anyone without giving them frostbite. Your powers were too much for you too handle so your body was constantly below freezing.

it was terrible. You had lived so long without the feeling of another's skin on yours. You could never, hug, hold someone's hand, kiss, do....that. You were condemned to a life of touch starvation. It sucked, but you still kept a smile on your face.

during a errand run in new york you had met Steven Strange. You had recognized him from his work as a doctor and gave him your condolences for his accident. He seemed to take some sort of interest in you, which you later figured out that he knew you had your ‘enhancements’ from the news.

he explained to you that with his help he may be able to train you to keep your body temperature at a normal human one. You were a bit off put by his offer and he gave you a simple address in case you changed your mind and with that. You left.

☼-☪-☼

a month later

“Tony it’s just for a little while-”

“No! your running off with some rando voodoo doctor who could kill you and steal your kidneys!”

your face twinges a bit in confusion. You had told everyone that you’d be leaving for awhile and they all wished you luck on your solo adventure. You had also decided to wait till the actual day you were leaving to tell Tony. He was a tad overprotective of you when it came to strangers.

“He’s not going to steal my kidneys- Tony my car is waiting i have to go” you say as you pick up the bag you had dropped on the floor as the whole ordeal again. “Didn’t know you had such little trust in me” he exhales deeply, pressing a finger to his temple in visible frustration.

“I do trust you. I don’t trust the world outside of these walls” Tony admits. you will confess, you liked his weird fatherly side. “Well- the world as you call it can freeze if they touch me. You have to let me do things on my own Tony” you give him a half smile.

Tony expression turns into his thinking one, which is either a good or a very bad thing. He digs into his pocket and pulls out what looks like a jewelry box “Are you trying to bribe me with diamond earrings?” you ask, slightly unimpressed with him.

he rolls his eyes and lifts the lid. You see a silver necklace with a star pendant. You could faintly see a small blue crystal in the middle. It reminded you of his reactor, Clever. It was still technically a bribe, but it was indeed a beautiful necklace.

“No. I made this about a month ago and could never think of the right time. It’s a necklace with a beacon. If you need help press the blue button under the silver lid and i’ll come get and save you. Like always” Tony finishes his sentence off with a smirk, which makes you chuckle.

you reach and grab the box with your gloved hand “Thank you, Tony” you say and pull the necklace out the box. You undo the clasp and wrap it around your neck, clasping it back. Tony gives you his proud dad smile and pats your shoulder “If this witch man is able to help you. I get to be your first hug”

you break out into laughter, nodding “Of course” you say and he chuckles along with you. You hear a honk from outside “I’m coming. Chill out Happy!” you shout. Tony gulps and waves you off “Go ahead, i’m not keeping you any longer.” he says.

smiling, you sling the bag over your shoulder and nod at him “I’ll see you soon Tony” you say and turn around, heading out the door and towards the car waiting outside. Happy rolled down the window, same unhappy expression on his face “what took you so long!”

rolling your eyes, you open the passenger door and throw your bag on the car floor before hoping in. “You know Tony, stubborn as ever” you reply, closing the door. Happy replies with a small hum before starting up the car. You pull out the card with the address and hand it to Happy.

Tony watched you walk out, his face dropping a bit “Come back home kiddo”

☼-☪-☼

two weeks later

in your short time with Strange he showed you the most incredible things that you never knew. It also hurt your brain to think about how big the multiverse really was, but Strange was able to explain it in simple terms. He had also given you a meditation regiment that you followed everyday.

it was supposed to help you calm your mind enough that you could force your body to warm up. It hasn’t changed anything so far, but Strange said it was normal. While reading a novel across from Strange who was- looking out a window. “Great” he grumbles under his breath.

you lower the book, sliding the juice bar stamp card you used as a bookmark between the pages. “Is something wrong?” you ask, tilting your head. Strange’s eyebrows furrow “Someone who isn’t supposed to be here. Is here. Along with his slightly intelligent brother”

what- “I don’t follow?” you say as he makes his way downstairs. You quickly jump out the chair and go to follow him. In a quick movement his cloak unclipped from his body and stopped in front of you, blocking your movements “Um Strange?” you call out.

he stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns his head to look at you “You stay here. If there is a fight it could be dangerous” he spoke. “I can help fight with my ability-” he holds up his hand, stopping you from talking. It reminded you of Tony a little bit.

“That is the exact reason you need to stay. Using your powers could throw off what you have worked for so far” he spoke. Sighing deeply, you nod “Okay, i’ll stay. I promise” you say to reassure him. Strange nods and his cloak returns to him, clipping back on.

“Thank you” he says and lifts his arms up, he starts performing what you assume is a spell while mumbling under his breath. It lasted a couple seconds before he walked off to the lower floor. You had to ask him how he did certain spells like that portal one, just to mess with Steve.

you heard your stomach grumble and sighed “Strange needs to invest in a fucking microwave. I want a hot pocket so bad”

☼-☪-☼

you guilt tripped wong into magic-ing a microwave in the sanctum. Poor dude, but hey- hot pocket. You also changed out of your pjs because wong said you were ‘lazy’ what a tool. You did anyway and ended up wearing a long sleeve black turtleneck, matching gloves with heather grey and white plaid pants.

As you took your last bite you heard talking, but not just Stranges voice, a deeper one. Sounded somewhat familiar, but you couldn’t quite recognize it fully. It came from downstairs. You look at the steps and bit your bottom lip, thinking. Strange told you to stay, but-

screw it

slowly you step down, making sure it didn’t creak too loud and alarm Strange to your presence. Once you made it all the way down the voices stopped. What the hell? Oh wait they were coming from the first floor now. Was Strange just teleporting throughout sanctum.

yes

the talking got louder and you peaked around the corner. First you spotted Strange, twisting a strange of hair in his hands? He ended up throwing it in the air and it created a portal. Okay then. Then when you looked beside him, you saw- no, it can’t be.

“Thor?!”

you ran down the stairs, tripping over your feet a bit. The god turned around and smiled upon seeing you “Lady Y/n! It has been quite some time. You have grown indeed!” he says. You nod, almost reaching out to hug him, but stopped. Thor noticed and gave you a sad smile.

“I thought i told you to stay upstairs?” Strange spoke. You chuckle nervously and gesture to Thor “I haven’t seen him in a long time. I’m sorry” you say. Strange looks like he wants to stay mad at you but exhales deeply “Your forgiven, under the circumstances”

you smile brightly. Strange was a pretty cool guy. You turn away from him and back at Thor “So, what’s going on? Why are you back on earth? What happened to figuring out your vision and going back to asgard?” you ask a multitude of questions.

Thor shakes his head “My witch of a brother has hidden my father on earth and i need to get him back. This wizard has offered me help in return that i take Loki back to asgard where he belongs.” Thor explains. You nod slowly, you had never met the god of mischief himself, only heard stories.

“Loki is here?” you ask and gaze around the room.

you heard Strange gasp before lifting his arms “Oh yeah right” he swirls his hands as a portal forms on the ceiling. A distant scream was heard before a man with long black hair and a matching suit popped out and crashed onto the floor, Loki.

Loki slowly lifts his head, whipping his hair out of his face and propping himself up on his elbows “I have been falling, for thirty minutes!” he shouts. Damn- thirty minutes? “That’s cold Strange and that’s a lot coming from me” you say, making Thor snicker a bit.

“You can handle it from here?” Strange nods towards Thor who does the same, reaching over to shake his hand. “Thank you very much for your help” Loki lifts himself off the floor and turns to look a Strange, glaring daggers at him. “Handle me?” he snaps, venom lacing his tone.

Oh! Look actual daggers. Oh wait- Loki came towards Strange and in an instant your eyes turned a bright white, no pupils and your skin turned an icy white, with the nose and tips of your ears and fingers a light blue. You stepped in front of strange as cold fog emitted from your hands.

you were breathing heavily which came out as fog as well. Thor had seen you like this before so this was pretty normal for him. Strange stared at you for a moment, just blinking. He had seen this before- “Don’t touch the wizard” you breathed out.

Loki’s angered face turned into a smug look “And who do you think you are to challenge me, mortal?” he questions, drawing closer towards you. Before any harm could be done to either of you, Thor stepped between, looking at his brother “Brother, you will not harm Lady Y/n. She is a friend”

aw how sweet. Loki takes another look at you before his daggers retreat “Fine” he grumbles. Your skin turns back to its normal S/c and your pupils return “Thanks Thor” you say and he nods at you. Strange coughed before gesturing to the portal.

Thor exhales before smiling lightly “Right. Thank you so much for your help again and it was lovely to see you Lady Y/n” he spoke. You smile “Just Y/n is fine. I hope you find what your looking for” you spoke. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do if Tony went missing. Thor must have been going crazy.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it once you get back Y/n” Strange spoke suddenly, making you turn your head to face him once again with a confused expression. “What are you talking about?” you ask. Thor steps beside you while Loki stood s a few feet behind both of you.

“Oh you’ll be going along with them” Strange spoke casually as he began to make his way up the stairs. What the hell? “Um- why?! What about my regiment?” you question. Strange stops at the top of the stairs and faces the three of you, hands behind his back.

he studies your face, then Thor’s, then Loki. “Trust me” is all he says before disappearing into a portal of his own. You blinked mindlessly for a couple seconds “Uh-” “Lady Y/n- i mean just Y/n. I suppose you’ll be accompanying me and my brother. Once we return to asgard, will send you home.”

you looked at Thor, thinking. Should you go? You had never been to another planet before, so you were completely unaware of what was too possibly happen. Even if you were afraid of the unknown, you could not pass up this opportunity “Let’s go”

Thor pats your clothes back and smiles “Alright, into the mystic portal we go!” he cheers, making you chuckle. “Not only am i stuck with my oaf of a brother, but also some mortal quim” Loki snarls from behind you. Oh isn’t he a breath of fresh air “Yeah, cry about it antlers”

yikes, you’ve been around tony too much.

Loki’s fist clench before all three of you walk through the portal.

you all ended up in a grassy field. It was beautiful. The smell of the sea nearby filled your nose, causing a calm feeling to course through you. “I don’t see father” Thor spoke, looking around. You gaze about as well and spot a man at the edge of the field.

placing a glove hand on Thor, you tap him. The god looks at you as you point at Odin. Thor sighs deeply “Let’s go Loki” he spoke and waved for this brother to follow. You stayed put as Loki passed you, his arm grazing yours for a moment. There is like so much field to walk around you, but okay-

You turn around and began to walk in the other direction, giving them some space. It wasn’t your business to put yourself into their family drama.

☼-☪-☼

You walk mindlessly for a couple minutes, making sure to stay relatively close to the brothers and his father. You stop and look at them for a moment just as Odin had turned to a fine gold powder/dust and blew away into the sky. Oh no- Odin, he’s dead.

just before you could even think another thought the sky began to crack in thunder. From the distance you were at you could Thor’s fingers spark up as he turned towards Loki. Oh god he’s going to kill him. Your previous thoughts of not getting involved were thrown out as you began to run towards them.

you couldn’t let Thor hurt his brother, he would surely regret it later. A green energy ball formed couple feet in front of you, stopping you from running towards the brothers. You had stopped your feet so harshly it caused you to fall back onto your butt.

the green energy grew bigger as the brother began to draw close to it. A flash of thunder changed Thor’s clothes into his original asgardian armor and Loki used to Magic to change his to a green leather outfit. Seemed very Loki-ish. The energy stopped forming and you were sure that Thor or Loki couldn’t see you.

just as fast as the green energy appeared, it vanished to reveal the back of a women, she had long black hair and a matching outfit. Who was this? That didn’t matter right now considering Thor look liked he was ready to fight which means that you had to be.

“So he’s gone?” the woman spoke, referring to Odin you presumed. She gazes around for a moment before looking back at the boys “Such a shame, i would have liked to have seen that” she said. Oh- well that’s just rude. “You must be Hela” Thor spoke. So that was her name.

“I’m Thor, son of odin” he continued. He just had to introduce himself right now? How formal of him. You slowly began to stand up. This woman had not noticed you, which means you had the upper hand. “Really?” she asked, a amused tone present within her voice.

“You don’t look like him” Hela adds. you thought Thor looked like Odin- just a tad. Why are you thinking about this right now. “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” Loki spoke. Well at least Thor isn’t trying to kill Loki right now. Now that you think about it Hela and Loki kind of looked alike.

Hela lifts her arm a bit to pint at Loki, before dropping it to her side a second later “You sound like him” she says before taking a step closer “Kneel” she commands. “Beg your pardon?” Loki leans forward as if he had not heard what he had just said. Uh oh.

Hela’s arm twist, a long blade forming in her hand. “Kneel...before your queen” she repeats once more. Queen?!. You take a deep breath, pupils disappearing, skin turning white and blue, and fog emitting from your hands. Let’s do this. Thor takes a step forward, gazing at you for only a second “I don’t think so”

Loki took a glance at Thor. You both knew what the god of thunder was about to do. Thor lifts his arm and throws his hammer at Hela, but- she caught it. She caught Thor’s hammer?! Oh shit. Both Loki and Thor’s face turn into a grim and confused one.

“It’s..not possible” Thor spoke in disbelief. “Darling, you have no idea what’s possible” Hela spoke before squeezing her hand around Mjollnir. She was crushing the hammer. In a split second a burst of electricity and wind was sent everywhere.

you lift your arm and cover your face to protect your eyes. Once it died down you move your arm and saw Thor’s hammer in pieces on the grass. What was she? Who was she? Hela lifted her arms to her head and slid them back along the base of her skull, forming a large spiked crown.

she repeated her hand movements from earlier except with both her arms. Two blades in each hand. You had to move now. You close your palms together and pull them apart, an ice spear forming in between. You ran up to her and jumped in the air to get a higher advantage.

“Y/n, no!” Thor shouts as he runs up to Hela as well. Loki looks up in the sky and shouts “Bring us back!” Hela turns around quickly and spots you running towards her. Just as you were about to land on her, she grabs your neck. “Now who are you?” she asked. but you didn’t answer.

instead you rip a glove off one of your hands and press it to her face. Hela screams in agony and throws you towards Thor. You landed on him with hard thud. That’s going to hurt in the morning. Suddenly a portal formed around all three of you and sent you into the sky. It was the same one Thor usually left on.

Your body felt weird all over like you were about to vomit or pass out- maybe both. You looked up and saw Thor a few feet up above you and you assumed Loki was under you. Thor looks down at you, then Loki “Loki!” he shouts and the black haired god looks under him, you so as well.

Hela was just behind you all “She wasn’t even in the portals range!” you shout, earning now answer from either brothers. Lok reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a small blade. He lifts his arm and chucks it at her, but she dodges it easily and sends it flying back towards Loki.

Loki had another blade in hand and used that one to dodge the other hela threw at him, but it sent him flying out the portal “Y/n! follow loki! I’ll find you both. I promise!” Thor shouts and without a second thought you use your spear to stab into the portal and push yourself out.

sometimes you wished you thought about things first.

☼-☪-☼

your head was throbbing and aching in the worst way possible, like you had crashed into a wall. Your eyes slowly open and you see a regular sky with purple portals spread throughout it- okay maybe not so normal. “Hands off of me you mewling quim!” you know that complaining tone from anywhere.

you push yourself off the ground, using some random junk metal to lean on. Looking around you would think you were in some junk yard. No time to wonder where you were because you had a god to help. You push things out your way before you spot what looked like scavengers, mostly wearing masks.

they were holding onto Loki’s arms. Couldn’t he just use his magic? Guess not. Anyway, you jump down from the ledge your on, catching most of their attention “We just got on this planet and your already pissing the natives off?” you question Loki.

he narrows his blue eyes at you as he struggles against the people holding his arms “Get on with it!” he shouts at you. No please? Whatever. You activate your powers, slowly pulling the other glove off of your hand “Hand over the god will you?”

“You’ll have to get through all of us!” one man shouts. They hold up their weapons at you making you sigh “Alright, have it your way” you shrug, flicking your hand, a dark blue blade with a silver handle forming in the palm of your hand.

the scavengers ran towards you. One swung a club at you, but you caught his arm in your hand. The man screams in agony as his whole arm turns black with frostbite. You take that opportunity to slice his now very crunchy arm off. Then it’s kind of a rinse and repeat for the rest of them until one is left.

The man lets go of Loki and begins to run away. Good choice. Loki drops to the ground, trying to catch his breath “Why did you follow me?” Loki asked suddenly. You look down at him and shrug “Thor asked me to in the portal. He said he’d come find us” you explain.

you pull out the extra pair of gloves from your back pocket and slipped them on. They were a plain black leather pair. Once they were on, you hold out your hand for him to take. Loki takes one look at your hand and scoffs before standing up himself. Rude.

“If my brother went off to fight Hela alone. He’s most likely dead already” Loki says curtly as he dusts off his outfit. Your eyes widen a bit. Thor wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be. “Who is she anyway?” you ask. Loki’s jaw locks, glancing at the ground before you

“Our sister”

your E/c eyes went wider this time. Since when did Thor have a sister? Was she adopted too? She claery had a disdain for her father just as much as Loki did. Maybe Thor was the one who was actually adopted. “Oh- wow” you comment.

“Enough about my family. I have to figure out what planet i’m on” Loki interjects as he begins to walk away “Hey! Whether you like it or not we’re in this together, I could have left your ass to die, remember that!” you shout at him. His walking stops and he faces you once more- oh shit.

he steps towards you and you back up until a piece of debris. Loki stops inches from your face, his hand reaching up to your neck to hold it in his hand “Don’t assume for a moment that you and i are some sort of friends like you are with my brother” he speaks lowly.

you glare right back at him “Let go of me before i put a icicle through your eye” you snarl at him. A small smirk forms on his face “You put up this illusion that you are as tough as nails, but i can see right through you. Your just as broken as the rest of us. Let’s explore that shall we?”

Loki reaches up and places his hand on your forehead.

☼-☪-☼

two years ago

Loki opened his eyes and looked around the room. Where was he? He was in the darkest memories of your mind. “Put her in the chamber” Strucker spoke as three men went over to grab a pale woman on the floor. You. You were wearing a hospital gown and your hair was overgrown.

you flaid, kicked, and screamed “Please! No! i’ll try harder i swear! Please!” when you had first developed your powers and the doctors realized they couldn’t touch you Strucker thought you had been doing it on purpose. So mean with full body suits would put you in a heat chamber.

the intense heat had a even stronger effect on you because of your unique enhancement. Strucker opens the door as the three men throw you in. You land on the ground with a hard thud and stand up quickly, running towards the door but it had already shut.

Strucker stands outside the glass window that showed you inside and looked towards a woman sitting at the desk “Turn it on, the highest it can go” he spoke and she nods, pressing a green button before pushing a dial up. Loki looks confused for a moment as he stands beside strucker.

the room starts to heat up and you fall to the ground your tears sizzling as they ran down your face. At the moment Loki took a step back. Heat exhaustion. A form of torture he knew all to well. something he hoped to never witness again. You let out screams of agony until you eventually passed out.

back in 2012 when earth was attack by Loki he was under the control of Thanos who had kidnapped him and tortured him with the same methods because of his Jotun side. It worked nonetheless and he was under Thanos’s control.

☼-☪-☼

Loki opened his eyes and snatched his hand away from your head. You slid down against the debris until you hit the ground with a small thud. He had made you relive your worst fears like it had just happened only moments ago. How could he do such a thing.

“I’m so-” before Loki could say another word he felt something bite at his neck. He hissed and reached for his neck and felt something cold and metallic. He tried to tug it off, but instead got harsh bursts of electricity shot through his body over and over again.

he fell to the ground, shaking violently, turning his head he saw you. You were holding your face, still shaken up. Loki watched as someone came up to you and hit you with a blunt object, knocking you out cold. Loki reached his hand out to you, but it seemed his body gave up on him and he passed out.

☼-☪-☼

Loki awoke with the sound of people talking around him. He went to move his arms first but they were chained behind his back “Oh look he’s awake good! Hello! I’m the grandmaster, ruler of Sakaar.” a man with blue strips on his face spoke and a robe type outfit.

“May i ask why i’m in chains?” Loki questions with his usual ‘i could kill all of you’ smirk. The grandmaster shrugs his shoulders “Had to make sure you and your friend weren’t hostile. It’s only temporary of course” He says. Friend? Who was he talking about? Y/n.

Loki looked around instantly, trying to find you of course “Oh yes, she’s currently in the infirmary Our scraper hit her a bit too hard. Anyway, whats your name?” the grandmaster asked, gesturing to the scraper next to him. Some random girl with light brown skin and white markings over her face.

he would kill her later.

“Loki of asgard, god of mischief” he spoke, giving his best presentable grin. The grandmaster laughs. Rude “God of mischief, how spooky. Tell me god of pranks, did you fight on asgard?” he questions. Loki raises a brow. What was this man playing at?

“i was used for my intelligence more then my strength. Battle plans, strategies, political consultant and such” Loki explains, slightly lying out of his ass. the grandmaster looked impressed, at least that’s what Loki thought. How would we get out of this one?

“Hm. Well- you will be spared from fighting in the contest of champions as well as your lady friend. As long as you swear your undying loyalty to me and my planet” The Grandmaster stands up from his chair and walks to Loki. He waves his hand at one of the guards.

the guard beside Loki reached down to uncuff his hands and took off his neck chip. Loki shrugged them off before standing up, rubbing his wrists. The Grandmaster stood in front of him with his hand out. Loki gave him a grin and grabbed his hand, shaking it “I swear” he spoke.

the Grandmaster smile before his eyes trail him up and down “How bout we get you into some yellow. green’s a bit tacky”

“Pardon?”

☼-☪-☼

later that night

a guard escorted Loki to his accommodations in his new green and yellow suit. “Green is not tacky, it’s a very classy color. What a moron” he grumbles under his breath. Once the door open, he stepped inside and looked around. (similar to Hulks, but dark green and white)

it’ll do for now. He only got to take one step before he was pushed against a wall, something cold and sharp jabbed at the side of his neck, pressing firmly but not enough to break skin “Oh- it’s just you” a voice spoke. Yours. Loki looked down at you.

your head had a bandage around it and your top was missing leaving you in a black sports bra and your plaid pants from earlier. loki couldn’t help but notice your delectable figure, making him breath heavily “Eyes up here you son of a bitch” you snap, pressing the icicle further in his neck.

Loki looked at your face and notice a bruise forming on your jaw. It made him....angry to say the least, but he couldn’t understand why. “Would you kindly get that out of my face. I just saved us” he says. You give him a ‘what’ face and slowly remove the icicle, your body turning back to normal once again.

“How?” you question, walking towards the bed in the center of the room, Loki following “I have made good with Grandmaster so he wont make us compete in some barbaric tournament” he spoke, boosting his own ego really You roll your eyes and take a seat on the bed “How does that help us, were still stuck here”

Loki scoffs “I just made sure you weren’t going to be killed. You could at least say thank you” you felt a anger boiling within you “Thank you?! You want me to say thank you?! Remember we aren’t friends. I should have stayed with Thor, but for some reason i cant comprehend, he still cares about you”

Loki felt his chest tighten a bit at your words about his brother. You were right. No matter how much he betrayed Thor he would always be at his side to fight alongside him, but he never admitted it. “I should have used my necklace. I should have never left the base” you thought aloud

the god looked puzzled “What necklace?” you look at him for a moment then at the ceiling “Tony gave me this necklace with a beacon. I had forgotten all about it until some bitch nurse took it away because it wasn’t aloud. I tried to get it back, but she pushed me into a wall” you replied.

Loki looked around the room once more and spotted a conjoining room, before he could say anything you stood up, grabbing your shirt and all of your dignity along with you “Goodnight’ you spoke before walking into said room and slamming the door shut.

this was going to suck

☼-☪-☼

‘Put her in the chamber!’

no please..

‘Your worthless!’

no i’m not

you sat up in a cold sweat, more literally then normal. You looked around the room and noticed a cold fog. Turning your head, you look out the window. Pitch black. If you squint hard enough you could see your reflection. Yep white skin You change yourself back.

the door burst open and standing in the doorway is Loki, hair no longer slicked back but disheveled and wearing a simple black shirt and matching pants. he had daggers in his hands, looking ready for a fight “What are you doing?” you ask.

Loki looks confused “Why did you scream? I thought you were being attacked” he spoke, annoyance in his voice. You narrow your eyes and turn to your side, facing away from him “Get out” you spoke, not really wanting to see his face. He had no right to ask that.

“Pardon-”

“I said get the hell out!”

☼-☪-☼

three days later

you never left the room. To the Grandmaster, you were Loki’s property so he didn’t really care much. The servants came and brought you breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some brought you books to read and others didn’t. You had also been avoiding the god himself.

he had tried starting a conversation with you once or twice, but it never really went to his plan. Mostly ending up with you threatening to kill him or you telling him off. Loki was stain in your life all you wanted was to be rid off him and go back home.

you had just wrapped a towel around your body, hair dripping from being in the bath. As you went to open the door the god was standing just outside the door, holding a towel in his hand. His blue eyes trailed up and down your body. You pushed past him and walked into your room, shutting the door.

Loki felt his body tingle in way it hadn’t before. He exhaled deeply before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door

☼-☪-☼

later that night (again)

you sat up screaming bloody murder as you gripped your head. Instead of nightmare you had a nighterror instead. Your body was thrashing around like someone was attacking, but no one was. Just like last time Loki opened your door, almost breaking it off the hinges.

he looked at your state and practically jumped on your bed. His face made him looked..worried? You back away instinctively “No you can’t touch-” Loki cuts you off by wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. How- how was this happening. You couldn’t touch anyone before, why now?”

you didn’t notice the cold tears running down your face as Loki rubbed your back in soothing circles “How is this possible? I thought that-” “You can’t touch anyone because of your ability, but...what a i am, what i really am makes me immune to the cold in any form” he explains.

so this is what another's skin felt like. Soft, a little different from yours. You pull away a bit and began to touch different parts of his face. You run a finger along the side of his face, making him inhale sharply “what’re doing?” he asked in a low tone.

“I have never touched another person with my bare hand. Im curious” you say. Loki sighs and lets you continue your weird- whatever this could be called. After a couple minutes you let go of him, wiping your face “Your still a dick for what you did” you say.

Loki sighs, nodding his head ‘I’ve been told, by multiple people. I hope this makes up for it just a little” he says. Hope? You nod once “Yeah, your getting there. Now out antlers i have to sleep” you say, a grin forming on your face. Loki grumbles “That’s just rude”

☼-☪-☼

two weeks later

“I don’t even like parties” you spoke, looking at the words in your book. “You’ve been cooped up in this room for two whole weeks. You need to try and have some fun” Loki insisted. You look up and him and sighed, damn god. “fine, but no promises i’ll be having any fun. I also have nothing to wear”

Loki’s smile turned into a grin “stand up” he instructs. You roll your eyes and place the novel down before standing up from your seat “You better not do anything mischievous Loki” you say and he shrugs his shoulders. In a split second your hair was done and your outfit had changed.

the top part of the dress was a blue and a tad bronze lined leather that connected with some icy blue tool that made the bottom part. You looked, beautiful. “This doesn’t look like Sakaar attire?” you question, looking from the dress to him. Loki nods once, stepping towards you.

“That’s because it isn’t. It’s a tradition asgardian dress” he explains. You hummed in response “Really? I don’t think i do it much justice then” you spoke with a small laugh, turning around to face the large decorative mirror that was behind you.

you look at yourself in the dress, touching your face and squeezing your waist a bit. as you do so, Loki walks forward and stops a couple inches behind you. he leans down so his chin his hovering over your shoulder. You could feel his breath on your neck “I think you look lovely. Now, shall we?”

☼-☪-☼

it was a couple hours into the party and Loki was chatting it up with some people. Telling them life stories that he clearly altered to be in his favor while you sat beside him, silent. “And in that moment, i let go” the people around you laughed while you rolled your eyes.

“Y/n!”

“Loki!”

you and Loki both turn your heads to the right at the sound of your names being called. Oh my gods. Thor?! You stood up quickly, Loki following you hesitantly “Excuse me for a second”. “Loki, over here!” Thor yells again, catching the attention of a few people.

Loki stood in front of his brother while you were beside Thor in the chair “Shh, Shh. Shut up!” Loki snapped in a hushed tone. “What?” Thor replied in the same hushed tone. “Your alive?” Loki looks his brother up and down while Thor just looked confused “Ah yes of course i’m alive!”

“What’re you doing here?” Loki questions. “What do you mean ‘what am i doing?’ I’m stuck in this stupid chair! Where’s your chair!?” Thor asked, making you stifle a chuckle. “We didn’t get a chair” Loki says, waving his hand towards you.

Thor glances at you for a moment and you give hima half smile before he turns back to his brother. “Well get me out of this one” Thor commands, struggling against the metal clasps that held his arms in place. “I can’t” Loki replies. What? Why couldn’t he help him?

“Get me out!”

“I can’t”

“What?”

Loki points into a random direction “I made friends with this man. he’s called the Grandmaster-” he explains. Oh yeah- the whole loyalty thing. Thor shakes his head “What’re you crazy?!” Thor accuses. You asked yourself that sometimes. “-I’ve gained his favor. The bifrost spat me out here weeks ago”

“He thinks i’m Loki’s property, so yeah your right. Crazy”

where has Thor been these past two and a half weeks? Thor looked extremely confused now “Weeks ago?! I- i just got here” he tries to say. You look up and see the face of the Grandmaster across from you “Oh shit!” you jump, holding onto the glass in your hand.

“What’re we whispering about?” he says with that creepy guard lady behind him, holding the melt stick as he called it. Thor jumps up at the sound of his voice ‘Uh Ah!” he shouts while Loki grabs your arm and pulls you a few steps back from Thor along with him.

“Time works real different around these parts” He starts, turning the records on his dj table? I don’t know. “On any other world i’d be like millions and millions years old, but here on Sakaar” he finished explaining then just smiled expectantly like he was waiting for someone to say something.

you felt Loki tighten his grip on your arm a bit. What’s got him so tense? Loki opened his mouth to speak, but closed it right after. the Grandmaster waves his hand “In any case you know this uh- this uh. What do you call yourself? Lord of thunder?”

“God of thunder” you and Thor say at the same time. Thor nods towards the Grandmaster “Tell him” he says to Loki. the black haired god begins to laugh nervously “i’ve never met this man in my life” he says, pointing to Thor for a brief moment “Loki!” you say, hitting his shoulder. What a dick.

Loki looked at you with a ‘what’ face. “He’s my brother!”Thor growls, mostly upset because of Loki. “Adopted” Loki interjects, making you hit him again. The Grandmaster looks up for a moment “Is he any kind of a fighter?” he asked. It’s Thor- duh.

Thor begins to laugh irritably “You take this thing out of my neck and i’ll show you” he threatens. You sigh deeply. Men am i right. The Grandmaster laughs along with him “Oh look at that he’s threatening me” he coos like Thor was some sort of baby.

“Hey sparkles-” the Grandmaster starts, making thor struggles against the chair once more “-you want to get back to ass..place. Ass berg-” he says. Oh he did not just say that. “Asgard!” You and Thor shout in unison. Loki gives you another look “Oh shut up your not helping, Loki”

“-any contender who defeats my champion there freedom they shall win” you had heard about the Grandmaster’s contender =, but had never saw him. He was supposedly undefeated, but this is Thor were talking about here. “Fine! Then point me in the direction to whoever's ass i have to kick!”

the Grandmaster smile and waves his fingers at Thor “That’s what i call contender” he says excitedly before lifting up this remot like object “The direction that would be in this way lord” he presses a button and Thor’s chair begins to move away.

“Loki!” Thor shouts. You pull yourself out of Loki’s grip and lift the bottom of your dress off the floor so you could run up to the chair. You face Thor and smile “I’m going to get you out okay?” you say before two guards grab both of your arms. Damn- they had gloves on.

“Remove your arms from Lady Y/n you buffoons!” Thor shouts before he disappears around the corner. You struggle against there grip for a second before managing to rip your arm from one of them. Your skin turned it’s icy white and blue and your pupils vanished.

just as you formed a icicle, someone grabbed your arm. You looked at who it was and saw Loki. “Think for a moment before you kill somebody. Now let’s go” he didn’t give a chance to reply before dragging you out the party hall. What a hypocrite honestly. He killed people all the time.

☼-☪-☼

“You are insufferable, you know that!” you shout as Loki closes the door to your shared room “I’m insufferable!? You almost got yourself killed and for what?!” Loki shouts back. “To tell Thor that everything was going to work out. All you did was make it worse Loki. That’s all you ever seem to do!”

Loki’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening into a fist “Don’t talk as if you know me!” he snaps at you. Loki walks up to you and pushes you up against the wall, his hand grabbed both of yours and held them over your head. Kinky- not now, just not now.

“Oh screw you and your I’m misunderstood bullshit! You left Thor hanging out to dry again and in the end of it all he still called out for your name! You know one day Thor is going to give up on you and your going to wish you had at least tried to be a good brother”

Loki was breathing heavily as his blue eyes bore deep within your very soul. He looked at your face, studying every inch you had to offer. In a quick motions he dips down closer, his lips centimeters away from yours. Loki’s face scrunches up. He was debating in his hand. A battle in his own mind if you will.

he backs away from you, letting go off your hands “If you want to talk to my brother, follow me” he says and heads back towards the door. You felt almost disappointed that he didn’t keep going. Was that wrong?

☼-☪-☼

in the end you and Loki could not physically find away into the holding room that Thor and the other contenders were in, but Loki said he could create an illusion of you both to talk to him. As long as you got to see Thor “Ready?” Loki asked and you nodded once.

you only blink once and suddenly your in this brown, dirty, circular shaped room. What a mess. “Odin-” you heard someone speak dn turned to your left to see Thor. He was kneeling over some homemade shrine. “I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla-” he spoke.

it was probably a some sort of prayer they used after a loved one has died. “- Where the brave shall live forever. Where thine enemies have been vanquished, Nor shall we mourn but rejoice” this what heartbreaking to hear honestly. Thor was always the toughest guy you knew and now you were witnessing this.

everyone has feelings though. Even witches like Loki

“For those who have died The glorious death” Loki chimed in with Thor. The god of thunder turns around and sits against the wall “Lady Y/n” he nods towards you. You give him a small smile “Hey” you reply. “Hurts doesn’t it, being lied too?” Loki started. Oh for fucks sake.

“Being told your one thing then learning it’s all a fiction” Thor looked at the ground before picking up a rock and tossing it in Loki’s direction. The rock went straight through Loki, making him chuckle lightly “I mean- you didn’t think i really come and see you did you? This place is disgusting” Loki gestures to the floor.

you sigh deeply “There were guards outside- after my stunt at the party. i’m not allowed out anywhere without Loki” you explained “That’s quite alright lady Y/n. I understand. Those men didn’t hurt you, did they?” Thor asks, grabbing another rock from the floor. You shake your head “No, of course not”

“Good” Thor replies, throwing the rock through Loki’s face “One less person i have to kill before we leave this place” he says. Still over protective of you. Some things never change though do they? “Does this mean you don’t want my help?” Loki asked, noticing how Thor only addressed you.

“where did you offer help in any of the words you just spoke?” You question. Loki didn’t reply to you though. Petty bitch. “I couldn’t jeopardize our-” “-Your, don’t pretend to care about lady Y/n” Thor interjected. Loki sighed before continuing. thor had clearly touched a nerve.

“our position with the Grandmaster. Took me time to win his trust. He's a lunatic, but he can be amenable.” Loki replied. You shake your head “Is everyone amenable to you, Loki?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. Loki glances at you for a moment “No”

Thor lifted another rock from the ground and threw it through Loki’s face “What I'm telling you is, you could join me at the Grandmaster's side. Perhaps, in time, an accident befalls the Grandmaster, and then...” Loki points to his brother mouthing ‘you then you ‘Y/n’ then himself ‘me’

“Oh wow- you really do suck” you say going over to Thor and pointing at a rock “Can you throw that rock for me?” you ask and he simply nods with a smile before picking it up and throwing it at him. You smile lightly. Good friend things. You look at Loki who takes a step forward.

“You're not seriously thinking of going back, are you?“ he asked with a questioning look. “i would” you mumble before stepping backwards. Thor looks like he had just been punched in the face, but had his hands folded casually. Thor was stubborn.

“Our sister destroyed your hammer like a piece of glass.“ Loki says, holding his hands out. “She's stronger than all of us. She's stronger than you“ he adds. No offense, but you definitely could’ve done some damaged if Thor had not shouted your name back at the field and alerted her to you.

“You don't stand a chance. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?” Loki’s tone gets more aggressive while Thor just scowls at him “Loki” you say, trying to get him to shut up. After a couple seconds Loki lets out a bitter laugh “Fine” he says.

“I guess I'll just have to go it alone. Like I've always done.”

Loki’s comment makes Thor smirk. One that Loki notices “Would you say something?” Loki asked. You sigh deeply. Why do you feel as if there was going to be yelling? Anyway- Thor stays silent, looking at the ground for more stones he could throw at Loki.

“Say something!” Loki shouts in a louder tone

and he does “What would you like me to say?” Thor starts. This felt awkward, being there you mean. “You stole the throne, stripped Odin of his power, stranded him on Earth-” Loki went to say something, but Thor keeps talking “-To die, releasing the goddess of death”

“he didn’t know that would happen Thor-” you say, but are quickly shut up just as Loki was “Have I said enough, or do you do you want me to go further back than the past two days?” Thor asked. You look at Loki who looks like he’s holding back tears at his brother cold stare.

nonetheless, he composes himself “You know, I haven't seen this Beloved Champion he talks of, but I've heard he's astonishingly savage. I've placed a large wager against you tomorrow. Don't let me down.” he spoke as his illusion starts to vanish. Your time is almost up.

you look at Thor as he lifts a glass bottle from the ground and throws it at the wall where Loki was. “Thor, your going to do great out there. I’ll be watching” you spoke and gave him a small smile. Thor looks at you and nods “Goodbye” you said and just as you blinked you were standing next to Loki.

☼-☪-☼

you both walked back to your room in silence. Loki looked awful. Like he wanted to breakdown at any moment. You felt bad for him. He had lost both his parents, just as you had. You could relate to some of his pain. so you should try to comfort him, right?

when the door shut behind you both, you reached up and placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder “Loki- i’m sorry about Odin. I know you say you love him like Thor does, but he had to have meant something to you” you spoke as calmly as you could.

Loki’s body tensed under your touch “I never stopped loving my father” he says, which surprises you “He raised me I was just so angry that they lied about me. I was never truly there child” he spoke, his voice beginning to waver.

“Odin and Frigga took you in as their own. They didn’t care that you weren’t biologically there’s. They gave you a home when no one else did Loki. That’s what being a parent is.” you spoke and left go of his shoulder “You can have some time alone. I’ll be in my room”

you walk past the god and towards your door, “Thank you, Y/n. How did you know what to say?” Loki spoke, making you turn around “Just what i wished someone had told me when avengers came to save me” you shrug and walk into the room, shutting the door.

☼-☪-☼

“I can’t believe you put a wager against your brother” You said, walking alongside Loki. wearing another tradition asgardian dress that Loki had picked out for you. It was another icy blue dress that had a soft brown leather as the straps. iIt was flowy and had a slit down the side.

“It was only a joke” He replies, holding your hand as you walked through the crowds of people. The Grandmaster had invited you and Loki to watch Thor’s fight from the ‘Grandmasters box’ stupid bastard and his stupid terms. As you walk, you pass by where the contenders are being held. Thor.

you didn’t have time “Will seen him soon. I can tell your worried about him” Loki spoke, squeezing your hand softly. “Thor was one of the first people to help me when i got out of Hydra. I owe him everything” you say. Loki sighs deeply before you both continue walking.

as you drew closer you were able to hear the cheers and roars of the crowd. jeez it’s just a bunch of idiots fighting- go watch some Tv or something. Suddenly you heard the Grandmaster speak. What a loser this guy was. Thinking that you were just some mans property.

“ow! Look at all of you. What a show, WHAT-A-NIGHT! Who's having fun? Please, I'm your host. Big round of applause for all of our undercard competitors who died so gruesomely. Good sports. What a show! What a night! This is what you've come for and so have I.”

when he finished speaking is when you and Loki entered the very bright room, filled with different people from different worlds. Bruce would have love to see this, sometimes you forget he’s gone. You just hoped that you’d find out what happened to him one day.

Loki leads you towards the front, skillfully grabbing two drinks and handing one to you. What a gentlemen- wait no. Damnit. “Making his first appearance, though he looks quite promising, got a couple of tricks up his sleeve. I'll say no more, see what you think. Ladies and gentlemen...”

you look down from the glass and see a latch lifting up. That has to be him. “I give to you...Lord of Thunder!” the Grandmaster shouts. You smile as your eyes landed on Thor “Oh my god they cut his hair!” you exclaim “It’s just hair” Loki replies, taking a sip from his drink.

you scoff “Okay, let me cut yours” you say and he glares “I’d rather die” he says and you nod “Told you so” the crowd was booing Thor, along with a couple people next you. “Oh screw yourselves” you grumble under your breath. Loki wraps his free arm around your waist and pulls you flush to his side.

“Try to behave darling, will you?” Loki leans down to whisper into your ear. You feel a tingling feeling in your stomach. Was he using his magic on you. “Yeah yeah, whatever” you huff, earning a smirk from the god holding you “That’s a good girl” he says- and there goes the stomach again.

you both turn back to watch Thor as he walks to the center of the arena. “Watch out for his fingers. They make sparks.” the Grandmaster says, making you roll your eyes at his statement. Thor puts a helmet on his head and pulls the small latch down.

The Grandmasters hologram began to rub his hands together “Okay, this is it. Let's get ready to welcome this guy. Here he comes. He is a creature. What can we say about him? Well, he's unique. There's none like him. I feel a special connection with him.” he gets the crowd riled up.

green bombs of dust or some kind of pigment begin to explode in the sky and over the crowd. “He's undefeated. HE'S THE REIGNING...HE'S THE DEFENDING...Ladies and gentlemen... I give you...” he spoke in broken sentences. Now he was getting you scared.

the door begins to open from the other side. It only happened halfway when it was smashed through by some green, big, angry...Hulk?! You feel as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders “Bruce?” you whisper to yourself, almost dropping the glass in your hand.

Loki on the other hand turned paler then he already was and let go of you “I have to get off this planet” he spoke and turned around to leave the room, but the Grandmaster was right behind him “Hey, hey, hey! Where are you going?” he questions, but Loki has no words. Neither do you.

the Grandmaster leads you both to the long couch and you and Loki sit side by side. You could hear Bruce screaming Hulk into the crowd. What was going on? Thor suddenly turns from the Hulk to where you guys are “Hey! We know each other. He's a friend from work!” then we went to talk to Hulk.

you didn’t notice your hands were shaking as Loki placed his on top of one yours “Are- are you alright?” he asked and you reach up to wipe away a forming tear “I haven’t seen bruce in two years. I thought he was gone- dead” despite Loki being in fear of his life he gave you a smile. “Well, that’s good”

“Loki! Y/n! Look who it is!”

you both look away from each other and look at Thor who was gesturing Hulk to look at Loki. Loki looked like he wanted the world to swallow him up “You’ll be alright. If he does come up here i can protect you. Hulk loves me” you say with a toothy grin.

suddenly Hulk charges at Thor “What is he doing?!” you shout as both Thor and Hulk begin to fight each other. This is not according to plan at all. A couple seconds later it looks like Hulk was about to grab Thor's hand “Oh thank god” you mumble to yourself a little too soon.

Hulk picked up Thor by his leg and through him repeatedly onto the ground before tossing him to the side. Loki shoots up from his seat “Yes! That's how it feels!” he exclaims. Jeez. You stand up and grab his arm. Loki turns to see the Grandmaster staring at him strangely.

“I'm just a huge fan of the sport.” Loki explains and the Grandmaster just laughs. You sit Loki down as well as yourself “Real calm and classy there antlers” you say with a small grin. Loki growls under his breath “Really? How ‘bout you let that green moron smash you into the ground”

you couldn’t help, but laugh “I’m sorry. That sounded so wrong” you say, your mind going to straight to the gutter. Loki looks at you weirdly before cringing “You are a perverted girl” he says. You shrug your shoulders “Yeah whatever. Do something about it” you say jokingly, going back to watching Thor.

you feel Loki’s hand being firmly placed on your thigh, his other hand sliding behind your back to grip your waist “I can show you what i can do about it later if you so desire” error error Y/n.exe has stopped working. You feel that fluttery feeling in your stomach again. Damn god of teasing.

you somehow manage to keep your cool and grinned at him “No offense, your highness. You couldn’t handle me” you say. His brow raises in amusement. No one has ever said such a thing to him. Just as he opens his mouth you see in the corner of your eye the Grandmaster pulling out the chip remote.

he presses the button and Thor falls to the ground. That dirty cheater.

☼-☪-☼

hours later

it was after the fight and you were pacing back and forth in your room while Loki sat on the bed “Will you cut that out?” Loki suggested and your skin change quickly. You form a icicle and throw it towards him. He catches it in his hand swiftly “Do not tell me to calm down! That dirty freak cheated!”

Loki sighs and goes to open his mouth when the door opens. “The Grandmaster has requested your presence Loki of asgard” a guard spoke. Your skin changed back to normal as Loki stood up. You go walk along with him when the guard stops you “Only Loki” he spoke.

you sigh and nod, giving Loki a small smile. “I’ll be here once you get back” you say and he sighs before leaving with the guard. Now, your stuck here. All alone. You go over to the bed and sit down. The sheets were still messed up from where Loki had slept the night before.

why were you thinking about that?

the door flies open, revealing a brown skinned woman with asgardian armor and white markings on her. “Hello Lady Y/n. Thor asked me to come find you. Noe let’s go” she spoke quickly. You got up instantly and walked to her. Wait “Will be we getting Loki?” you ask

the woman looks at you for a moment and nods “Yes- later now lets go princess before i’m late for a meeting with the Grandmaster. I heard you can fight by the way so i got you some good clothes to move around in.” you nod as you both alk out the room

☼-☪-☼

the woman, who told you to call her Val had dropped you off at the junkyard, but let you get changed first of course into a black leather warrior outfit. . At first you were confused as why she had dropped you here, but when you saw Thor leaving a quinjet.

as you ran up to him you saw another person leaving. It was Bruce in Tony’s clothes? “Bruce!” you yell. He turns around and looks at you with a confused stare “Y/n? Your taller and older. Wait- Why are you here?!” he questions. You chuckle and look at Thor “It’s a long story, where are we going?”

☼-☪-☼

with Val and Loki

both asgardians had just walked out the Grandmasters hall to find and capture Thor and Hulk. They were both walking fast since Loki said he could get them back in one hour. “What have you done?” Loki accuses only full well she had something to do with the escape.

Val takes takes one look at him and scowls “I don’t answer to you, lackey” she snaps back. Loki stops and grabs her arm “It’s Loki and you will answer to the Grandmaster” he says. Val pushes off his arm and punches him in the nose. Loki stumbles back a bit and pulls out a Sakaarian blade

“Why would you help me brother escape with that green fool?” He questions, pointing the blade at her. Val pulls out a blade of her own “I don’t help anyone” she quips back and the two rush each other. Hitting, kicking, dodging, the whole ordeal. at one point Loki grabbed her arm and saw her mark.

“You're a Valkyrie. I thought the Valkyrie all died gruesome deaths?” he says, knowing it would rile her up and it did. Val escapes from his grip and pushes him against the wall, holding the knife to his throat “Choose your next words wisely” she seethes down at him.

Loki looks up at her, smug “Terribly sorry. Must be a very painful memory...” and puts his hand on her forehead. Val was taken back to the moment the Valkyrie were sent to fight Hela for the thrown. Val watched them all die again as well as her girlfriend.

once she came back she was pushed back onto the floor by Loki. She stands back up quickly and pushes him on the ground, straddling him “You know your majesty, i have some terrible news for you. I went to your little girlfriends room after you left” she started, making Loki’s eyes go wide.

“she was a pretty one i’ll give you that. That was until i slit her throat and watched her bleed out” It was Val’s turn to rile Loki up. “Y-Your lying!” Loki shouts, struggling against her. “Oh really?” she says and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a piece of blue tool from your dress, stained with blood.

Loki felt his heart drop into his stomach, like he wanted to vomit and cry all at the same time “No...’ he mumbles and grabs the tool from her hand. Val looked stunned for a moment before punching his face and knocking him out. She was not expectantly that kind of reaction from him.

☼-☪-☼

you, Thor, and Bruce were walking through the crowd of Hulk worshippers basically when Val had found you. She had led you all inside safely. She was a pretty cool gal. You had to get her number after this. Does she have a phone. You all walked down this hall when she stops.

Bruce stopped behind thor and you stopped behind Bruce. “Look, I've spent years in a haze trying to forget my past. Sakaar seemed like the best place to drink and forget and to die one day.” Val spoke, making you frown slightly. Thor nods.

“I was thinking that you drink too much, and that probably was going to kill you.” Thor spoke. Val gave him an annoyed look before walking towards the door “Also, i have a piece offering” she said vaguely before opening the door. Thor walks in first, then Bruce.

Once you walk in you noticed Loki, chained up and hanging his head in shame, he was looking at a piece of tool that rested on the ground in front of him “Brother?” Thor spoke, crouching down to look at his face “Loki are you alright?” he asked

“she was so much like me you know, we both didn’t know where we belonged. Both too cold and felt like monsters. I had never felt that way about anyone. I don’t think i’ll ever feel that way again. I don’t want too actually, not if it isn’t her” everyone in the room could notice his voice breaking.

just as you were about too console him Val put an arm in front of you and pressed a finger to her mouth. Telling you to shut it basically. You are confused, but nod slowly “Brother. I don’t understand. Who are you talking about? What has made you this upset?” Thor questions.

Loki’s body started to shake as he sobbed “Y/n. That scraper killed her. she took her away from me, now i’m all alone again.” he explains solemnly. Thor looks confused “Loki, lady Y/n is right here” he spoke. Loki lifted his head up and Thor was right. There you were, alive.

Loki didn’t know whether to be relieved or angered, but he stuck with relieved. “Let him out!” you shout, walking over to Loki to pull on the chains. “Y/n i don’t think that’s such a good idea-” Bruce started, but you didn’t care. You got the chains undone and Loki instantly wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey, i’m here” you say as he holds onto tightly, almost like you would disappear if he let you go “I know” he replies before pulling away. You look around and notice everyone staring at you “What?” Loki spots Bruce and tilts his head “Hello Bruce” he spoke, standing up from the chair.

Bruce looks at him “So, last time i saw you, you were trying to kill everybody. Where are you at these days?” he questions. Loki looked at you then Val who was grabbing something out the closet “It varies from moment to moment” he spoke before completely ignoring him.

Loki studies your face “I’m alive Loki” you say to reassure him and he sighs “i know, just wan’t to keep it that way” he says. You muster up a smile “That is the nicest thing you have said to me since we got here” you admit. He rolls his eyes and looks down for a moment then back at you

“I need to tell you something-”

“Loki come here!” Thor says, waving at him from the otherside of the room. Loki sighs and look at you, going to say something “It’s okay. we can talk later” you reassure him and he smiles.

☼-☪-☼

you, Loki, and Thor were assigned to get a ship for all of you to leave on, but throughout the whole time you were fighting to get there Loki and Thor were talking about leaving each other or staying together. You wished you stayed with Bruce and Val.

now you were in a elevator, with you standing in front of the two, skin icy white and blue and no pupils. “Here's the thing. I'm probably better off staying here on Sakaar.” Loki says. You turn around and look at him with wide eyes “Loki-” you say, but Thor interrupts “That's exactly what I was thinking.”

okay what? “Thor-” you say this time, but the same thing happens. “Did you just agree with me?” Loki asked, stunned. Thor shrugs “Come on, this place is perfect for you. It's savage, chaotic, lawless. Brother, you're going to do great here.” Thor says, glancing at him once- ouch.

Loki looks forward and you wished you hadn’t come at all “Do you truly think so little of me?” Loki questions. Thor pauses for a moment before looking at his brother. “ Loki, I thought the world of you. I thought we were gonna fight side by side forever. But, at the end of the day, you're you, I'm me” he starts.

you watch as Loki’s face changes from different emotions. To hope, then sorrow. “I don't know, maybe there's still good in you-” Thor says and gestures to you “-but let's be honest, our paths diverged a long time ago.” he finished. You stepped aside Loki and reached down to grab his hand.

Loki sighs and looks at his brother one last time “Yeah... It's probably for the best that we never see one another again.” he replies, nodding his head. You look down. Stupid boys. “That's what you always wanted.” Thor says and pats his brother on the back, you noticed he place the chip on his back.

strange, but you trust Thor’s judgement. Doesn’t mean you weren’t going to swipe the remote off of him though.

Loki looks away slowly letting go of your hand. It was silence for a few moments. Awkward silence filled with tension and emotion. Jumping through the glass and falling to your death didn’t really look so bad right now “Hey, let’s do get help” Thor pipes up.

“What?” Loki asked, turning to look at Thor again

“What’s get help?-”

“Get help” Thor repeats with a cheery smile on his face.

“Oh come on, you love it”

“No i hate it

“It’s great. It works every time”

“Its humiliating”

“Do you have a better plan?”

you got to speak when they just start talking again “No” Loki replies and Thor just looks back forward with a smile “Were doing it” he says and Loki does the same “We are not doing get help” Loki says, thinking that’s the end of it. You look at both of them and groan “I hate both of you”

☼-☪-☼

as the elevator door opens, you are stuck clinging onto the ceiling. You wait a couple of seconds “Alright. Come down” Thor calls and you jump down from the bar “Get help huh?” you chuckle, looking at Loki who turns and glares at you. You smile and walk behind them.

“Now which one is the ship she told us to get?” Thor asked. Loki pointed at a bright orange ship “The Commodore” he says. You all begin to walk. A second later he walks away, grabbing your arm to follow along with him and leaving a illusion walking alongside Thor. What?

“Though I feel it won't make much of a difference” the illusion spoke. Thor sighs “Oh Loki” and turns to see you and Loki at the control panel “I know I've betrayed you many times before, but this time it's truly nothing personal. The reward for\ your capture will set Y/n and i up nicely.”

Y/n what now? Loki presses a button on the panel and the places starts to go off “Loki, you didn’t” you gasp as you rip your arm from him. “Never one for sentiment, were you?” Thor asks. Loki grinned “Easier to let it burn.” he replies in a low tone.

Thor reaches into his pocket as his eyes go wide. You slowly back away from Loki “Y/n-” “You self centered prick!” you snapped, pulling the remote out of your pocket. His face drops and he takes a step forward “Y/n, please-” he tries to explain, but you had already made up your mind. “No!” you shout.

Loki goes to speak again, but you press the button, watching as he drops to the floor. Thor walks past you and towards Loki “Oh that looks painful” Thor mumbles. You follow after him, walking much slower. Thor kneels down beside his brother.

“Oh brother, you're becoming predictable. I trust you, you betray me. Round and round in circles we go.” Thor speaks, looking down at Loki. See, Loki, life is about, it's about growth. It's about change, but you seem to just wanna stay the same.”

it hurt to see Loki that way, but in the end if he could betray Thor so easily. he’d do it to you too and no amount of love could change that “I guess what I'm trying to say is that you'll always be the God of Mischief, but you could be more.” Thor sighed and stood up “I’ll start the ship” and with that, he left.

you look at Thor then Loki. You go to where Thor was kneeling and do the same “You almost fooled me i’ll give you that. The whole touch thing and flirty comments. It almost made me think you felt the same. What tied it in was the tears.” you say, watching as he turned to look at you, pain on his face.

“Maybe you do care about me, but in the end you would betray anyone to save your own skin Loki. Thor’s right, you could be so much more. To him, the world...to me” You looked up to stop the tears forming in your eyes to fall down your face. You quickly wipe them and look back down.

“Thank you for being my first hug” You stand up and throw the remote a few feet away from him. “and my last” and with that you turned away leaving Loki on Sakaar along with any feelings you had for him.

☼-☪-☼

after fighting your way out of Sakaar on a orgy ship you passed out. Bruce was the first to wake, then Val and Thor with you being the last “I never thought i’d be back here” Val spoke. You and Bruce undo your seatbelts and stand behind Thor and Val.

Asgard.

“Though it be a lot nicer” Bruce spoke up. “Bruce- dude” you say, shaking your head. He noticed all of your collective disappointed stares and sputtered “Not- noth that it’s not nice- it’s just- it’s just on fire” well he was right about that. You assumed it was Hela’s doing.

the dashboard started going off and Val looked at it “Here, up in the mountains. heat signatures, people clustered together. Hela’s coming for them” she explained, pointing at the 3D diagram. You sigh as you power up your abilities, Bruce giving you a odd stare. Guess he’s not used to it.

“Okay, drop me off at the palace and i'll draw her away.” Thor spoke up. “Thor she destroyed your hammer like nothing. You can’t do this alone!” you protest. Thor shakes his head and looks back at you, “Then you’ll come with me Lady Y/n” he says “And get yourselves killed?” Val questions

“The people trapped down there are all that matters. While we're dealing with Hela, I need you two to help get everyone off Asgard.” Thor instrucks. Bruce pokes his head in between and looks at both of them “and how the hell are we supposed to do that?”

“I have a man on the ground”

☼-☪-☼

Thor looked up at Val as her and Bruce flew away. Hm, strange.

once you two got to the castle, you noticed rumble all over the floor, even a piece with Thor’s face on it. Thor looks up at the ceiling and you follow suit. What you see in horrific. Pictures of Odin and Hela destroying worlds.

you look over at Thor and notice his grim face “Thor? Are you okay” you say. Thor sighs and nods “Wait behind a pillar. Hela should be here soon” he says and you nod, walking away to find a hiding spot.

Thor sat in the throne and began to band Odin’s scepter on the floor, causing loud booms to flow throughout the castle. Only seconds later did you here Hela’s heels down the hallway.

she was here

“sister” Thor says. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear them. “Your still alive” she says back, soundly somewhat surprised. “ I love what you've done with the place. Redecorating, I see.” Thor spoke. Was this a time to be making jokes??

“It seems our father's solution to every problem was to cover it up.” Hela snarls at him. Okay she’s getting upset. “Or to cast it out. He told you you were worthy. He said the same thing to me.” Thor responds, solem in his tone. You could hear the bitterness in his tone

“You see, you never knew him, not at\ his best.” Hela sighs like it’s a fond memory to look back on ”Odin and I drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Where do you think all this gold came from? And then one day he decided to become a benevolent king.”

Hela’s voice becomes more sour “To foster peace, to protect life.” she starts “To have you” ouch- that has gotta sting. “ I understand why you're angry. and you are my sister, and technically have a claim to the throne. And believe me, I would love for someone else to rule. But it can't be you. You're just the worst.”

Thor no- you hear the swish noise like the last time she put on her crown “Okay, get up. You're in my seat.” she said, done playing games with Thor. clearly. “You know, Father once told me that a wise king never seeks out war” he says, you could hear his heavy footsteps.

“But must always be ready for it.” Hela replies, drawing closer

that’s your cue

you jump down and ice the floor just as Thor jumps in the air. Hela goes to throw a blade at him, but it ends up missing because she couldn’t balance. her head snaps in your direction and she snarls “You again?!” she shouts, charging towards you.

pressing your palms together and pull them out quickly, forming a silver sword with a blue base and handle. You lift your sword, but Thor hits her away with the scepter. Hela is knocked back, but for only a moment as she gets up and charges at Thor.

she manages to knock the scepter away pin Thor against the wall “Here's the difference between us. I'm Odin's firstborn, the rightful heir, the savior of Asgard.” she spoke before throwing Thor to the floor “And you're nothing.” You run up at her and hit her away from Thor.

“and your a bitch!” you yelled. Now you two her going hand to hand “Who are you? Your not asgardian is that for sure, but i sense a power off you stronger then any human could bare” she spoke, kicking you to the ground “You have the power of a infinity stone. Now that’s interesting darling”

Hela forms a blade “Too bad that power will die with you” she smiles wickedly as she goes to plunge it into your stomach, but Thor tackles her to the ground. “Y/n leave now!” Thor shouts, as Hela knocks him in the face “But what about you!” you shout, forming a icicle in your hand to throw at her.

“This is my fight and i will not lose you. Now go!” he shouts just as Hela sliced his eye. You almost choked before you got yourself together and ran and ran and ran. “Thor i hope you know what your doing”

☼-☪-☼

as soon you headed out the castle, you used a burst of cold fog to send you into the sky. The bifrost! it’s being attacked by Hela’s knights and a large wolf. That’s where to go you guess and you another burst to send you towards the bridge.

the wolf was running towards a bunch of unarmed asgardians. You dropped onto the bifrost just as bruce came flying out the ship and landing face first “Bruce! This is why i said to keep your seatbelt on!” you shout. he’s lucky he’s mutated or he’d be dead.

the wolf sniffed Bruce for a few seconds before running your direction again. You form a blade and have it sending his way, but he wasn’t stopping. You look over and see a dark skinned man with long hair, Heimdall holding a sword “Nice to meet you i guess?” you spoke with nervous laughter.

he looked your way and nodded “You too Lady Y/n” wait- how did he know your name. Nevermind that- both you and Heimdall hold your swords in ready position. The wolf is inches away when it suddenly stopped? You watch as it’s pull back and thrown to the other side.

Hulk!

“Yes!” you shout, throwing your arms in the air. Hulk lets out a thunderous roar, hitting his chest. The wolf comes after him and they both fall off the bifrost. One problem down, two more to go. More knights begin to run towards the group and you and hemdall began to fight them off.

you are so telling Tony about this!

Heimdall gets hit in the knee and you rush over to help him when a rock guy come out of nowhere and blasts the knight into nothing. Wait- wasn’t this Thor’s friend- from back on Sakaar? “Hey man and woman. I'm Korg. This is Miek.” he introduces himself as a purple worm robot appears.

you might need therapy after this one actually “We're going to jump on that spaceship and get out of here. Want to come?” he asked. He was rather polite. You smile lightly “We’d love too Korg, just after we kill these things.” You reply. You suddenly hear something off in the distance

you and Heimdall turn to see a figure amongst the mist. Please don’t be Hela, please do not be Hela! Once the figure came to view you gasped. “Your saviour is here!” Loki shouts, standing on top of the landing pad. What a narcissist! A narcissist that you were in love with, but technicalities don’t count.

as the ship lands people of asgard begin to board “Did you miss me?” he says, you smile lightly. he had come back to save his people “Now everyone on the ship!” he commands and asgardians begin to flood in. Loki pushed through the people and made his way towards you and Heimdall.

“Welcome back. I saw you coming” Heimdall speaks. Loki purses his lips together and nods “Course you did” he says and looks at you “Surprised to see me, darling?” he says with a small smirk. You shake your head slowly with a smile “I was hoping you do the right thing. Your just boosting my ego”

Loki grinned at you for a moment before pull out two asgardian blades “Will talk more in a bit” he sends you a wink as the Knights charge you all. You fly into the air and slam into the ground, causing a cold breeze to freeze about a dozen. You watch as they crumble and fall apart.

“Didn’t know i could do that” you shrug and pull out your sword once again. The bright sky turned a dark grey as electricity struck the castle, causing a big explosion “Yes! Thor!” you shout. “Hopefully it killed that bitch, no offense since she is your sister and all” you say to Loki.

he shrugs and slices a Knight in half “Unrelated note. You look very sexy while fighting” he smirks. You shake your head as your form multiple blades and send them at the Knights behind him. Loki goes wide eyed and watch about seven fall to the ground

“Me and you definitely need to talk later” his voice came out in a growl, which honestly sent shivers up your spine. You let out a chuckle as you watch Thor crash onto the bifrost “Why not now? Your brother seems to be keeping most of their attention”

Loki raises a brow “You wan’t me to confess my undying love for you in the middle of war?” he questions. Well that was blunt. “You do have a thing for undying don’t you? Anyway, just tell me now. one of us may not live till the end of this war” you spoke.

you notice Loki’s face change to a grim one “Your not dying on me, i won’t allow it” he said, almost as it was a command. “Loki- be realistic. Now shut up and tell me” you say as you stab through a Knight “Okay- from the moment i laid eyes on you, i could tell you were like me” he says.

“How so?” you question. “You question who you are and wonder if you belong anywhere. You think of yourself as a monster just as i do to my Jotun side. I wont ever question you and we can belong to each other. I do not see you as a monster Y/n. I see you as a goddess”

wow- he could sure smooth talk a gal into anything. Jokes aside his words meant everything to you, he meant everything to you. You use your ice to put up a bubble around the both of you. Loki looks confused for a moment before turning to look at you.

“Just say you love me Loki” you chuckle. He smiles slightly and grabs your hands “Y/n, i am in love with you. I think that’s better” he quipped back. you both laugh for a moment “Do asgardians use the term boyfriend and girlfriend?” you say.

Loki shakes his head “We like to use more gender inclusive terms. So, Y/n would you like to be my forever and i yours?” you could have passed out right then and there. Also- how was asgard more woke then earth? That’s some bullshit right there.

you break away from your thoughts and nod “of course i do” you say. Loki is unable to control his smile as he dips his head down. He was leaning when Boom! the bubble is destroyed. You smile and pull away “i guess you have to wait my prince” you tease, forming your sword again.

you could tell you touched a nerve because Loki squirmed a bit “Your such a vixen, darling. I can’t wait to have you all alone” he spoke in a low tone. You take a deep breath and try to compose yourself, but the thought of you and Loki- alone. It just took over your mind.

“Can this fucking shit be over with! Hurry it the hell up Thor!” you shout as you jab your sword through two Knights and push them off the bifrost. Loki’s helmet fell as he was fighting one. You run and slide across the bifrost to grab it. Ha antlers- not right now!

Once you do you chuck it at Loki who uses it to knock the Knight of his feet and push a sword through its stomach. Loki looks up at you and you grin at him “Teamwork, my prince” you say before bursting into the air “Stop calling that in public!” he yells.

Thor comes walking up too Loki, both breathing heavily. You drop down beside them “Your late” Thor says and Loki sighs “Your missing an eye” he replies back. Huh? You look at Thor and wave your hand over it, causing a cooling effect for him “Hopefully it’s stops the throbbing” you say.

Thor nods and gives you a tired smile as Val walks past you three “This isn’t over” she breathes out. Well- she’s not wrong on that one. All four of you walk together. You all stop to catch your breath “I think we should disband the Revengers.” Thor spoke.

“Good. It was a shit idea” you comment, making Val stifle laughter. “Hit her with a lightning blast.” Loki suggests “we already did that and she rose from the dead still” you say. Thor looks at his brother in disbelief- he did just like shoot her into the sky and she’s walking.

“I just hit her with the biggest lightning blast in the history of lightning. It did nothing.” Thor gave his brother a know it all look. You all looked forward as Hela stalked towards you all “She is so fucking creepy” you say, forming a couple blades.

Val nods in agreement “We need to hold her off until everybody's on board.” she instructs. You all nod. You really didn’t want to fight this deer looking bitch. Antlers just run in the fucking family at this point. You stretch your back a bit. Your positive you have scoliosis after all this.

Thor shakes his head “It won't end there. The longer Hela's on Asgard the more powerful she grows. She'll hunt us down. We need to stop her here and now.” he says. “If she’s growing more powerful from just being here then how do we stop her” you look at Thor.

Val nods along with you “She’s right, so what do we so?” she says, putting an emphasis on the world ‘what’ . Loki pauses and looks at Thor “I’m not doing get help” okay that was funny, no laughing right now though. Thor steps forward and glares at Hela before looking back at the ship of people boarding.

he’s going to give a speech isn’t he?

“Asgard's not a place, it's a people.-” there it is “-This was never about stopping Ragnarok...it was about causing Ragnarok.” he says, turning his attention towards Loki. “What’s Ragnarok?” you ask, expectanting no answer, but hey gotta love Val

“It’s this big fiery demon that was literally made to destroy Asgard and everyone on it” she explains. At that moment you honestly thought about marrying her “Wait- You want to send a demon to destroy Asgard? Shit-” you say.

Thor walks over to Loki and places a hand on his shoulder “Go to the vault. Surtur's crown. It's the only way.” he says. Loki fights against himself for a moment before nodding “Bold move, brother. Even for me.” he admits before walking over to you.

“I’ll see you soon, darling” he says with a small smile. “Well aren’t going to kiss me then?” you question, his smile turning into a grin “No..i rather give you something to look forward too” he says before running off. What a dick. You look back towards Hela “Shall we?” Thor asked the both you and Val.

Val looks at Thor and smiles lightly “After you” she says. Thor jumps into the air and destroys two of Hela’s blades. Hela kicks throw out the way as Val charged at her, but she ended being thrown too. Your turn. You burst into the air and throw four blades at her. She dodges them all and sends you away with Val.

Thor picks up a Knights discarded sword and tries to plunge in into Hela, but she dodges that too. Thor turns to Heimdall and shouts “Go! Go now!” and Heimdall gets onto the ship. Hela throws a spear at him and it jabs right through Thor’s shoulder.

the ship starts to lift into the air and Hela notices. She uses big spikes from the ground and shoots them in, keeping the ship in place “I’ll handle that. You two keep her busy!” you shout and fly into the air. How were you going to do this? You watch as Knights begin to crawl the spikes and up towards the asgardians.

you had to make a move now.

just as your about to land you hear..gunshots?! Since when her guns on Asgard? Just as you got close enough a man holding to large guns jump off of the ship and onto the bifrost, breaking the spike in the process. He lands on the bifrost and you jump down next to him.

“What’s your name? Weren’t you working for Hela?” you question suspiciously. The man looks ashamed “My name is Skurge. Yes i did work for Hela temporarily, but i know now that she is not a true queen and i wan’t to make it right” he confesses.

you smile and nod at him “Good for you dude. Now prove it!” you shout and charge into battle. You love a good redemption ark. You and your new friend Skurge fight off the Knights. “Hela!” he shouts, catching the goddess’s attention. Well fuck.

as you two fought off the last one Hela sent a blade in Skurge’s direction. You didn’t think. You should have thought before you acted, but you didn’t. You were just too nice to strangers. You jump in front of Skurge and catch the blade in your back, causing you to gasp out.

skurge looks at you in shock as you slowly drop to the floor. From a distance Thor and Val watch in horror as there comrade is smite down. “No!” Thor screamed, lighting bursting in every direction “Hela enough!” he shouts, standing up “if you want Asgard. It’s yours”

Skurge moves you and pulls the blade from your back. Your vision became spotty “Loki?” you murmur as you look up “i’m so sorry” Skurge cried. Hela looked towards Thor “Whatever game you're playing, it won't work. You can't defeat me.” Hela says with a evil grin.

Skurge watched the life drain from your body as it turned to ice. A statue of who you used to be cold and frozen over. “I’m so sorry ma’am” he breathes out as he touches your face. He felt so guilty. It should have been him is what he kept thinking over and over again.

suddenly the Sakaar ship lands next to Skurge and Loki jumps out. His whole world came crashing down once he saw you. A frozen corpse. “She saved him so i stayed with her” skurge explains. Loki lifts a hand and waves him away, which is what Skurge does so.

Loki drops to his knees and touched your frozen skin “Even in death you are beautiful my love. I should have kissed you when you asked me too, but i just had to be cheeky” he says, tears forming down his face and falling onto your frozen body.

“No one can ever match your beauty, your skill, or your big heart and i will never love again. You taught me what it’s like to love and to be loved and i- i-” Loki broke down and let his tears fall like a waterfall. He was alone again. Now he would have to live his miserable life without you

☼-☪-☼

you sat up, breathing heavily. You were in a castle. Thor’s castle. How? Where’s Hela? Where’s Loki. You push yourself off the floor instantly and look around. “You must be terribly confused” you heard a woman speak. You turn around and see a older woman with light auburn hair.

“Who are you and where is everyone?” you snap at her, but she just smiles “My name is Frigga dear” she spoke kindly. You look at her in horror “You’re Loki and Thor’s mother- but....your dead. That means that i’m-” you almost gag on your own words.

“i’m afraid so dear” she speaks and gives you a sad smile. “No! I have to get back! Loki is expecting me to be there. I have to help stop Hela!” you say. This couldn’t be happening “Ragnarok has already begun and Asgard is to fall any moment. Don’t you want to rest?”

your whole life has been nothing but pain and hard work. You had never ‘rested’ a day in your life. As much as it sounded like a treat, you still had responsibilities “No. I chose to stay and fight Hela because Thor is my friend and i’m not giving up on him or Loki, Val, Bruce or the asgardians.

Frigga gives you a proud smile “That’s what i wanted you to say. I’ll bring you back” she says and rolls up her sleeves “You have to do something for me though” she spoke. You stepped towards her “Anything” he say hastily “Marry my son. Loki deserves it more then ever and so do you”

you give your future mother in law a smile “Of course. How are you going to bring me back anyway?” you question. Frigga grans both your hands and smiles “Ancient magic that is far to complex. Now when i bring you back it will be with an asgardian soul” she says. You looked confused.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’ll be an asgardian along with your abilities.”

you smile lightly. You could live as long as Loki now and truly be together forever. “Okay, i’m ready” you say and she nods “Tell my sons that i love him and tell Loki that choosing to be his mother was one of the best days of my life and Thor...that he doesn’t have to rule Asgard to be a great leader.”

you nod, locking the words into your memory. Frigga starts mumbling a spell and you feel your body become lighter and lighter until you feel like you pass out.

☼-☪-☼

Loki lifts his head up from your body as it starts to defrost. His eyes go wide as underneath the ice is your beautiful face. Your eyes shoot open and you fly into the sky. Your whole body emitting a white and blue aura. You flew towards Thor, Val and Hela.

Thor puts his hands on his hips and points behind him “No i know, but he can” he says and Surtur comes crashing through the castle. As Hela stares at her downfall Val takes the opportunity to pierce her sword through Hela’s chest. Your form an ice spear and launch yourself down, stabbing it straight through her.

Thor sends and burst of electricity and you back away, slowly landing on the bifrost. It was over. Hela was doen for and you wanted to leave this retched planet.

☼-☪-☼

you walk through the ship until you find Thor and Loki in one room. Loki was holding a cap to a liquor bottle. “Hello boys” you spoke and they both turn to look at you “Lady Y/n, the girl who cheated death! No wonder you and Loki are perfect for each other” Thor announced, bowing at you.

you smiled and walked over to a loveseat, Loki following suit and sitting next to you “Yeah uh- i didn’t cheat anything. I actually died” You said “But how, your right here?” Loki says, grabbing your hand “I came back with a little help of a certain someone” you say.

Thor walks over and sits down across from you two “Who?” he questions and take a sip of his drink “Frigga” you said, making the brothers look at you in shock “Mother, how?” Loki asked. “I woke up in the castle and she was there. She said she could bring me back and gave me a few things to say”

both boys inched closer “She said she loves you both and Thor, you don’t have to rule asgard if it isn’t what you wan’t. Your still a great man and Loki” you turn your body to face your forever “one of the best days of Frigga life was choosing to be your mother and love you like her own blood”

Loki’s face said just about enough as well as Thor’s. They both looked at there laps, smiling to themselves. “I’m also asgardian now” you say, grabbing a drink from the table. Thor drops his glass on the floor, smashing it into tiny pieces. That was a nice cup.

“What!?” they both shout.

☼-☪-☼

Loki had found you both a room on the ship with a perfect view of the unknown outside. You were currently looking through it now, thinking. A pair of arms wrap around you from behind “I still owe you a kiss” Loki breathes out. You smile brightly and turn around in his hold, facing him.

“I believe you do...my prince” You say at the end just to tease him. Loki growls under his breath before pressing his lips to yours for a hungry kiss while his hands pulled you flush against him. You thought your first kiss would be sweet and short, but Loki’s was needy and passionate.

you both pulled at each others clothing, wanting it off but not having the strength to pull away and do so. After a minute of two Loki pulls away “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks” he admits, making you chuckle. “Good thing you have me all night then, my forever. i love you Loki of asgard”

Loki grins at your words and kisses your forehead “i love you as well, Y/n, my forever”

☼-☪-☼

Kody- I want no one to talk about how long it is, it hurts to even mention.

200 notes · View notes

amiedala · 3 years ago

Text

SOMETHING MORE (the mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 28: You Wanted Proof

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY!!!)

WARNINGS: sexual content & descriptions of violence

SUMMARY: “Where the hell did you go, you scared the life out of me—”

And then you’re done talking, because Din pulls out a ring. You gasp, choke back a sob, and stare at it. It’s a simple silver band, but the structure and strength of it looks exactly like the beskar his armor is made out of. You inhale again, staring at it, and when you get close enough, you see that there’s something carved on the inside. It’s a star, the same one you embossed into your necklace, and around it, the words “ni kar’tayl su”, light but intentional. You try to breathe, but all you’re doing is sobbing, looking frantically from the ring in Din’s palm to his open face, and when you cross the divide between the two of you, seizing his glorious cheeks between your hands, he meets you in the middle.

“You wanted proof,” he says, again, and everything feels dizzying and starry and huge. You feel your heart rush with the feeling of belonging, that something more that started right here, in this same spot, on this barren planet, months and months again. “Last time, I didn’t have a ring. But I do now, and I’m never leaving your side again.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HELLO MY LOVES AND HAPPY SOMETHING MORE SATURDAY!!!! i had such an emotional time writing this chapter, and i hope y'all love it!!! this chapter is dedicated to Brittany Broski (yes THE kombucha girl) because she recommended SM to all of her followers?!?!?! i am still in shock!!! Brittany if you're somehow seeing this, i love you <3

more notes at the end angels!!! enjoy!!

When your consciousness fades back in, everything is starry and dreamy. Kicker’s design has a lot more open windows than the Crest did, so you open your eyes to the blurred galaxy slowly traipsing by, an ache deep in your skull, the feeling of prolonged sleep heavy on your bones. You rub at your eyes with your fingers, shifting to find Din, because even though there’s light in here, he’s still good at avoiding it. When you turn your head to where he’s sitting, faced away from you in the pilot’s seat, you see the Darksaber hanging out of his hands, his head low, his vision intense.

You skip by it at first, cataloguing the way he looks—haunted, exhausted, hungry—and then your eyes find the wicked beacon again and something clicks into place. You shoot upwards with a gasp, rocketing your aching body up by the heels of your hands, wild and shocked.

“You’re awake,” Din remarks, quietly, and you point at the saber held in the palms of his gloved hands.

“I just had the craziest dream,” you say in response, heart still hammering. “We—we were in a city, getting shot at, and after you patched me up, you told me you were the ruler of a whole entire planet and then just…let me go to sleep.”

That gets a smile. Just a little one, his pink mouth quirked up at the edges, his eyebrows still hesitant. You’re not used to seeing Din’s full face, watching his bare skin shift and change in real time, even though you’ve catalogued every inch of it, it still feels off. “I hate to break it to you,” he starts, lowly, “but none of that was a dream. And the bacta knocked you out, so you needed the rest.”

You laugh. It’s not full, it comes out disjointed and too loud, but it’s enough to coax you to sit up straighter and stare at it. “What…does being the ruler of Mandalore entail, exactly?”

Din stares at you, down at the Darksaber, and back at you. “Bo-Katan didn’t tell me,” he sighs, finally, and you can tell he’s reluctant, but you also know he’s been keeping this in for two weeks, maybe more, and so you scoot closer to where he’s sitting on the floor, trying to show him you’re attentive, that you’re listening. “I—she told me about the saber, when I went on that mission with her and her…Mandalorians.” He grimaces at the word, like it tastes rancid in his mouth. “You were there on Nevarro when I told her I didn’t want it. I have no interest in it. What do I need a weapon like that for, anyway? I just wanted to get it out of Gideon’s hands.”

You nod. “I remember.”

“Well,” Din sighs, looking back at the weapon in his hands, “she didn’t tell me why she wanted it. She gave that whole speech about wanting to—to have it returned to the rightful leader of Mandalore. I didn’t care, honestly, at that point. All I wanted to do was protect you and the kid and kill Gideon. But when we…we asked for her help, when Cara and I were going to attack Gideon and save Grogu, Bo-Katan told me again that the Darksaber was hers. I agreed. But she didn’t tell me that the weapon has to be won in battle for it to…belong to someone. Gideon had the Darksaber. I fought Gideon. I defeated him, so I took it out of his hands. I tried to give it back to her,” Din exhales, low and long, dragging a hand over his face and stubble, “but she wouldn’t take it. I told her she could fight me for it, even, that I’d roll over for her and let her have whatever ceremony she wanted, but she just stared at me like she wanted to kill me. Eventually, I just let her take Gideon back to Mandalore, because I didn’t…know what else to do.”

You nod again, slowly. “So…so you can’t challenge her to a duel or something?”

Din looks at you, incredulous. “I tried—”

“What about a thumb war?” you ask, and you’re not trying to make light of the situation, but a laugh starts bubbling up in your throat and you press your lips together. “Like, a real one, with a ring, Cara as the referee. You just…let Bo-Katan win, and that’s it. No harm. No foul. Just sore thumbs.”

The look on Din’s face is totally unreadable. Just as quickly as it started, your laugh evaporates back down your throat, and you lean in closer to him, immediately wanting to apologize. You’re not sure why, you just know that there’s something deeper to all of this, something more. “Apparently, I’m a zealot,” Din says, finally. “My…my clan, who raised me—they’re descendants of purist, extremist group from back on Mandalore. Before it was sieged, before—” he cuts off, abruptly, and you know he’s frustrated. “I wasn’t born there. I don’t even know the history of the planet,” Din continues, tiredly. “And it seems that I don’t know what it means to be a true Mandalorian. How am I supposed to be anyone’s ruler?”

You bite your lip. You lean in closer, and when you lift your hand to touch his face, you feel him relax under your fingertips. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough. “For what it’s worth,” you whisper, cocking your head to the side, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone, “I think you’d make an excellent one.”

“I don’t know the first thing about being in charge—”

“You’re a father,” you interrupt him, quietly. “To the strangest, strongest, alien baby in the galaxy. You’ve protected us—and countless others—from certain death. I’d say that’s more than enough credentials to be deemed a fit leader.”

Din stares at you. “Except,” he says, hollowly, “I don’t have my kid anymore, I’ve shown my face, and with the way Bo-Katan and her group hate me, I can’t imagine Mandalore would ever accept me as their ruler.”

You swallow. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught on words that aren’t there yet. “Din—”

“I just—” he starts, then cuts himself off, eyes drifting from yours down to the Darksaber in his grasp. “I don’t want to,” he admits, his voice low. “I—I miss being a bounty hunter. I miss not having the fate of the galaxy in my hands. People relying on me—you, the baby—having to do this all—I want to go back. I want it to stop.”

It’s your turn to stare. “Wow,” you say, quietly, dropping both of your hands away. “So taking care of your family is a burden to you.” And you don’t mean it, because you know that’s not what he meant, but your fiancé begging and hoping to go back to a time before you were in his life, before his child was either, cuts deep. And it stings, the more you look at him.

“Nova,” he starts, “cyar’ika—” and then Din cuts himself off, hands dropping the saber to the floor, leaning earnestly towards you. “I don’t want to go back to that. I never—I never want to be without you again. I’d be the ruler of ten planets if it meant I go to keep you by my side. I just—”

“It’s a lot,” you finish, quietly, hands fumbling at your collarbone for the necklace that isn’t there. Immediately, you feel horrible. “I know.”

Din looks back at you, hooks his finger under your shin, gently forcing your gaze to return to his. “For what it’s worth, I’m going to help you save the world,” he whispers, and you know he’s exaggerating, but his promise, free and so gentle, makes everything in your body quiet. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“For what it’s worth,” you repeat, the words so quiet that they’re barely air, “Mandalore would follow you anywhere, too.”

Din’s gaze is complicated, complex. You don’t know what he’s going to say, and when he does, you have to strain your ears to listen. “I didn’t mean it, when I said I miss being a bounty hunter. I don’t miss anything from before I met you. I—I just want my life back. The one with you, and our kid, and the ship we called home.”

You lick your lips, looking slowly out the window at the crush of space. Even without looking, you feel Din’s eyes follow yours, tracking the luminescence, and just for a second, you hold the two of you there. “I’m here,” you remind him, finally, “and this is a new ship, but I think we can make it into a home. And…” you trail off, grabbing both sides of Din’s face gently, gravitating his eyes back to yours, “Grogu might not be here, right now, but he’s always ours. And I think we both know that between the three of us, there’s nothing in this entire damned galaxy that can keep us apart. What was it that you called us back on Dagobah? A clan of three?”

That small smile works its way back onto Din’s face. He nods, just once, resolute.

“Clan Djarin,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the man you love, “is pretty resilient, you know.”

“Oh,” Din mouths back, and you let him come the rest of the way to you, meeting you in the middle, “are we now?”

“You’re a Mandalorian bounty hunter, I’m the Force sensitive punching bag of the new Empire, and Grogu, our child, is older than the both of us and off with the greatest Jedi Master we know of,” you murmur, feeling the weight of your foreheads bumping together, “I kind of think we have to be.”

When you kiss Din, you let everything run out of you backward, trying to clear your mind. And when he pulls you onto his lap, guiding you as close to him as physically possible, you feel your knee crash up against the saber before it skitters away, back under the dashboard, into the darkness. You kiss him, letting the thing roll away from the both of you, too preoccupied with the security you feel to care about where it lands.

Hours pass. The two of you doze, on and off, and when you wake up for good, you check the nav system built into the dashboard to just see where you are. You’re not in much of a hurry to dock anywhere, truthfully, because you’re enjoying the uninterrupted coast through space, and the last time you were on a planet, the both of you nearly died, but there’s something pulsing under your skin. It’s alive in the same way your worry has been, the anxiety of knowing something big and scary is coming. It’s restlessness, you realize, everything about your fight or flight activated in both directions at once. When you get up for good, you slip away to the fresher, letting the hot water roll over your face, your aching shoulders, your tired muscles in your legs from always running. When you’re clean, you step out of the shower, studying your reflection in the tiny little mirror. You press your fingertips lightly to your face, puffy from sleep, trying to decide if you still look like you used to, or if the past year of love and fighting and loss and everything in between has settled permanently in the ridges of your face.

When you dry off, slipping back into fresh clothes, you take extra time to catalogue all the pockmarks of scars drawn into your skin. As always, you spend extra attention on the jagged, lightning bolt shaped thing running across your stomach. No matter how many years pass, none of it fades away. The skin is still raised slightly, a memory of the ache, and every time you press on it, you can feel it, residual. The other battle scars you’ve accumulated since are smaller, each one trackable, quantifiable. This one—and the way it catalyzed the rest of your life—stands triumphant, eternal. You let your shirt drop back down over it before you spend too much time staring at it.

The second that you climb back up the ladder, you realize something is off. Din is half-clothed, and you’re ready to lay back down on the floor with him and let him undo all the cleaning you just did, but he stands and turns around at your reappearance.

“What’s wrong,” you say, immediately, voice catching on its way out of your mouth.

“Someone called,” Din says, and his voice sounds off. “Tried to reach you through the comm system. I couldn’t tell who it was, or what they wanted.”

You stare at him. “Did you pick it up?”

Din looks from you to your commlink, his gaze skipping back over to you, his full eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I…tried to,” he answers, finally, “but it seemed corrupted. Listen for yourself,” he continues, pressing the microphone into your hand. You fold yourself down into the pilot’s chair, squinting out at the space slowly streaking past the window, knowing neither of you are currently under attack, but no one’s told the anxiety bubbling back up into your chest.

Slowly, you press the playback button. Din’s right—the voice is scrambled, tinny, off-putting. It sounds like random, grotesque grunting. The rhythm of it doesn’t sound much like a language. Even though you can’t understand it, you’ve heard the natural cadence of dozens of different languages, and the sounds playing back to you are warbled and disjointed, and you can’t get anything viable out of it.

“Weird,” you mutter, under your breath, sliding your fingernail between your teeth. You press the button again and again, let the voice spin down to nothing until you’re sure you’ve listened to it enough to gain any kind of insight, and you give up, letting the noises warble and stomp their way to their incongruous end, seconds of loud screeching building up until it cuts off. The feedback makes both of you cover your ears.

“Did you get anything?” Din asks, lowly, and you shake your head. “I—I thought you had the contact system disabled.”

“I do,” you whisper back, bringing up a knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, gaze flipping from Din to the comm to back to Din. “I can only make outgoing calls right now. My tracking’s off, too, and there doesn’t seem to be a lot of traffic out here in this part of the galaxy.” You hesitate, scanning the space around you frantically, making sure that your guess is accurate. It is. There’s no one out here except the two of you and the small asteroid fields that flux and flow, and the silence that was once comforting is now unsettling. You stare again at the commlink before you attach it back to the dashboard, pulling up your exact coordinates, trying to locate the two of you. You’re coasting through the bridge between the Mid Rim and the Outer Rim, a vast no-man’s-land. The planets are scattered haphazardly, and you check the fuel gauge, trying to see how much longer you and Din can stay out here, floating, unnoticed.

“Nova.”

You barely recognize your name’s been spoken until Din asks it again. You spin back towards him, biting down on your lower lip. “Yeah?”

He hesitates before moving a step closer to you. Maker, he’s so tall. The two of you have been in this exact position countless times, you sitting, him standing over you. It doesn’t intimidate you anymore, how large he is, how present his body is, but it’s still exhilarating to have him eclipse you. “How are we doing on fuel?” he asks, and something deep buried inside of you tells you that wasn’t the question he was initially going to ask.

“We need more soon,” you answer, softly, trying to figure out what his original point was going to be. But Kicker starts beeping, and you turn your attention back to the dashboard, trying to figure out what she needs. And, right on time, the little lever built into the fuel gauge has shifted to empty, and you sigh, setting the course to the next planet in the nav system. “Have you ever been to—” you squint, trying to sound out the name in your head before speaking it aloud, but you’re not in much luck, “—Khubeaie?”

Din stares at you blankly.

“Yeah, me neither,” you say softly, letting Kicker navigate her way down into the planet’s atmosphere. It’s night, so everything is cast over in deep blue shadow, but the city seems to glitter even in the silence. You park in a nearly empty landing bay, and when you stand up, Din’s already almost completely dressed. He stares at his helmet, and you pick it up off the ground and press it into his hesitant hands, nodding at him. “I know,” you whisper, “but remember the last time we were on the ground without you armored up?”

He looks at you to the visor on the helmet, his deep brown eyes intent and wary. “It still feels wrong,” Din manages, and his voice is still so unsure that you feel your heart ache in your chest.

“I know,” you repeat, reaching your hand up to graze against his face, thumb tracing the pattern over his groomed mustache, letting him settle into your touch. “It’s safer this way.”

Din nods as if he’s steeling himself, and then he inhales, pulling the helmet over his head. You offer him a small smile, the corners of your mouth upturned and reflected against his armor. You pull on your jacket over your nondescript clothes, adjusting the shawl you got back on Cantonica over your shoulders to pull up over your hair if you’ll need it. The atmosphere here is sultry and shifting, the darkness cast over the tall buildings amorphous. You’ve never heard of this place, but with its proximity to Tatooine, you’re not surprised that the people here a mix of the same locale—mostly humans, some Twi’leks, a Rodian or two. It’s easy enough to blend in, and when Din falls into step with you, you slide your palm into his, squeezing, to reassure him that everything’s okay, but when you go to drop it, he just laces his fingers through yours even tighter, the two of you silent, walking hand in hand.

“Here,” Din says, quietly, and you look up at a glowing sign that indicates a fuel source in the back. You follow him into the market, looking around for the exits. The second you step into the light of the store, you pull your shawl up over your head, trying to disappear between the aisles as you restock some of the nonperishable food and the bacta the two of you have burned through since the last refuel, and you pull out your small bag of credits to pay.

Din doesn’t come back. It takes a minute, and then another one, and you’re starting to get nervous. The clerk and the other customers don’t seem to be paying you much mind, but after the events on Cantonica, and Takodana, and Ryloth, and Tatooine, you don’t take passivity as innocence anymore. After a few more minutes, you exist the store, shoving what you can into your pockets, peering down the alley that Din disappeared in.

Something about it is off. It give you that same uneasy feeling that kept running cold through your veins back on Kicker, the same anxiety rush that the Darksaber comes with—powerful and intense and not entirely yours.

“Mando?” you call out, quietly. You step gingerly down the cobblestones, trying to keep your footsteps as light and intentional as you can. It’s dark down here, darker than the shifting streets, and it’s a longer path than you would have imagined, but when you turn around to check that you’re not being followed, the street is open and clear in the dim moonlight. “Hey,” you call again, not daring to use Din’s real name, “where’s the fuel?”

Still nothing. The toe of your shoe catches on a cobblestone, and you go down to the ground, hard and fast. You groan, cursing under your breath, pressing your scraped hand to the street, trying to regain your balance before you haul yourself up, but the alley disappears. You gasp out in the darkness, and at first, you think it’s just because the moon is hidden, but the way that the blackness pulses and swallows you doesn’t feel like it’s from natural causes. You’re plunged into another vision, so quickly you get motion sickness. You’re on the ground. When you look up, there’s that violent clash of red and blue again, and that version of yourself that’s running to get in the middle, to blast apart the energy sources—or the lightsabers, you can’t make them out from this distant—is heavy and laden with desperation. You can feel it, wet and hot, muscle memory from something that hasn’t happened yet, and then you hear a noise behind you, so you turn. Suddenly, everything is raining, the ground soaked, your clothes pooling in rivulets all over the ground. You can’t even see two feet in front of you, and when you get plunged underwater, you struggle against the sinking tide, trying to find the right way up. Your name is called, once, then twice, and you scream against the current—and then you’re on solid ground again. It’s like this vision, this type of premonition, doesn’t have anything specific. Everything feels huge and thematic rather than predicting glimpses of what it’s about to happen, like you’re in a dream state and everything is vivid and garish and loud and will slip away immediately when you get pulled out of it.

And then you see him. The baby. He’s sitting on a rock, maybe, or a cliff, you can’t tell, and his little fuzzy head is tousled in the wind, his big bug eyes closed shut, his tiny green palm raised into the open air. You yell out Grogu’s name, and you start running. He doesn’t look like he’s in any danger, it looks peaceful, but that same exact dark feeling bubbling up in your chest says otherwise. You’re running and running as the ground falls away, and you scream out, trying to get to the baby, trying to get there before you fall through the cracks again, and the second you make it there, within an arm’s reach of his glorious little body, something dark and dangerous spits through the air, slicing into you. You yell, thrown backwards, as the shadow completely engulfs you, and, horribly, you get thrown back into the present. You can feel the cobblestones under your hands, the ground hard and weighted underneath your touch, and when you feel yourself come into reality again, Din’s there, standing over you.

“Nova,” he says, his voice low and concerned, “what just happened?”

“Vision,” you manage, gasping, eyes fluttering as your face gets dragged upwards so Din can inspect you. You shake your head back and forth, trying to clear your mind. “I—it was a weird one. Where the hell did you go?”

Din shakes his left hand, the one not on your face, and you register the sloshing of the fuel can before your eyes adjust to the point of recognition. “I was getting us fuel,” he says, gloved hand grabbing at your chin.

“You were gone for a long time,” you manage, finally sitting up fully, your breath catching in your chest. “How far does this alley go on for?”

Din cocks his head at you, visor looking out at where you are. Right in front of you, not even a full foot from your touch, is the end of the alley. Frantically, your head flails from side to side, and then you realize the fuel is a few feet away, a market stand in the dark. You swallow, embarrassed, when you see the owner and his patrons stare over at you.

“Weird,” you mutter, rubbing at your eye, the one still starry and disjointed from your premonition. You get the same unsettled feeling that you did when the feedback from Kicker blared out. “I could have sworn this went on for miles—it doesn’t matter. Did you see me come out here? Did you see me fall?”

Slowly, Din shakes his head back and forth. “No,” he answers, finally, and the gentle, bracing way he’s talking makes your heart accelerate again. You nod, slowly, trying to keep yourself under control, but you’re panicking. Between the odd, screeching message back on Kicker and completely misinterpreting the alleyway, you’re shaken up. Not much, because you don’t scare easy, but enough to feel like you might slightly be going crazy. Eventually, Din pulls you to your feet, and you follow, keeping a close eye on the shifting city around you, intentional about where you plant your strides.

The refueling process is easy. It’s the one procedure on Kicker that she doesn’t fight, and she takes far less gas than the Crest ever did, so it’s much easier to spend your credits on more fuel. Din offers to do it while you start programming in where you’re going next, and you climb the gangplank and scale the ladder, biting your nail as you ponder where to go next. You miss Hoth. You miss Nevarro. Honestly, you miss Kashyyyk most of all, and that’s where you want to go, but you don’t think that the isolation of being there would give you any favors. You have to call Wedge and tell him about what happened on Cantonica, and some part of you really wants to call Cara. She’s not as cut and dry as the Alliance is, but she’s big and strong and every time you’re in her presence, you’re not on high alert. You know Din’s probably not in any hurry to get back to Nevarro now that he’s the one being hunted, but, selfishly, you want to go there.

“Hey, cyar’ika,” Din says, startling you out of your reverie. “Are you okay?”

You nod. Hesitantly, at first, and then stronger. “I’m just trying to decide where we go next.”

Din sighs, long and heavy, and then his fingers are hooking under the rim of his helmet and pulling it off. “Do you have any idea what to do from here?”

You shake your head slowly. “No,” you admit. “I don’t like being aimless, but I also don’t think running wildly around the planets in our closest proximity is the safest thing to do, especially after Cantonica. I know that was our initial plan, but with how much we’ve been attacked, I think it’s safer to let the rest of the New Rogue Squadron poke around for evidence because they’re less likely to be detected. I hate it. I…” you trail off, looking out the window, and your eyes catch on something. You think it’s just the strange, shifting darkness around the both of you, but something feels off. Din calls your name, and you snap out of it, back into your conversation. “I think we need to find out what the Order is,” you continue, even though it makes your heart hammer in fear. “I…I don’t know how. I wish I did. I’m sorry. I feel a little out of my depth.” Admitting it feels like climbing a mountain, but the second the words are out of your mouth, you feel like you can exhale a little better.

Din looks at you, and then he pulls you, gently, to your feet. “I’m not scared of them,” he says, cradling your face between his two big hands. “I don’t know what they want with us, and I don’t know how to stop them. But I also know,” he says, sighing, “that between the two of us and the people standing in the sidelines, we can take them on.”

You give him a small smile. Your heart aches in the same way it did way back on Yavin, back when Din took you home, when he proposed. It feels like a lifetime ago, but it’s so vivid and so clear. That same tug is pulling on your heartstrings, and you can’t place it until your hand goes to close around your necklace that isn’t there. You swallow.

This is how it felt. When you were a teenager, when the Alliance was on the brink of collapsing the Empire. Your parents held each other like this, a warm and steady constant through such turmoil. You close your eyes, just for a second, and imagine them here with the two of you, ready to fight back.

But when your eyes flutter open again, Din’s gaze isn’t on you anymore. It’s locked on the window, behind you, and as you spin around to see what he’s staring at, you see it. You weren’t imagining a figure earlier, and it wasn’t the smoke and mirrors of the darkness. Someone’s out there. You gasp as Din’s eyes narrow, and before you can stabilize yourself, his helmet is up and over his head and he’s descending the ladder, lowering the gangplank.

“Hey!” you call, racing after him. “Din! What are you—”

A blaster shot rings out over your head, and you scream. It isn’t your finest moment, you have to admit, but you’re shell-shocked and you have no idea why Din is racing towards the figure, into the dark of the night, on an unfamiliar planet, running away from you again even though he promised you the rest of your battles would be fought together. You stare as he runs, and then you’re getting shot at again, and you duck and cover, rolling back up into the ship and accelerating the lift of the gangplank. You swear, catapulting yourself up to the cockpit, maneuvering Kicker around, because you have no idea who’s shooting at you. It’s not stormtroopers. It’s not the smaller force of Gideon’s troops, either. Whoever’s sending you the blasts, you’ve never seen them before. You punch in the sequence needed for liftoff, praying to the Maker and the ship gods above that Kicker listens to you. She does, and you breathe sighs of relief as you navigate into the air.

Again, you’re being blasted at, and anger sets in. You’ve lost sight of Din and the figure, and you don’t want to abandon him here, but you’re getting shot at from somewhere in the darkness, and you don’t know what the hell else to do.

And then your comm buzzes again. You’re expecting the weird bleeping, so you roar a very uncharacteristic “what?” into the mouthpiece, forcing Kicker straight upward.

“Whoa,” Wedge’s voice comes through the line, and immediately, you buckle.

“Don’t get me wrong, Wedge, because I am so thankful to hear your voice, but how the hell,” you pant, dropping out of the artillery range of whatever—or whoever—is shooting at you, “did you get through to me?”

“Your callsign was reinstated,” Wedge says, confused, and as you get shot at again, you scream out of sheer frustration. “Nova, what’s going on?”

“If I knew,” you pant, scanning the shadowy grounds for where Din disappeared, “I’d tell you. Have you gotten any—weird calls, or anything? Scrambled radio waves? Anything like that? Strange things keep happening to me,” you admit, voice slightly lowered.

“No,” Wedge answers, but there’s an edge to his voice. If you weren’t so preoccupied with trying not to die, you would interrogate him, but whatever’s volleying blasts at you is so persistent that you can’t even ponder why he sounds so strange. “Listen, Nova—”

“Do you know anything about the Order?” you yell, punching in the code for the thermal tracking sensor. The ground is covered with life forms in the shadows, so it’s hard to identify where Din ran off to, but you squint and scan it, looking for a heat signature that matches his.

“The…the Jedi Order?” Wedge asks, his voice crackling.

“No,” you interrupt, immediately, “definitely not. We ran into some…unsavory people on Cantonica that mentioned it to me. Apparently,” you say, swinging around to inspect your creaky artillery, “they want me for something. The man, the one who—it doesn’t matter. He told me ‘What died didn’t stay dead’.”

On the other end of the line, Wedge is quiet. “What did he mean?”

You sigh, frustrated, exhausted. “I don’t know,” you manage, and you hate the way the words taste in your mouth, heavy and stonewalled. “And now I’m getting shot at. Again. Every time I think we know what we’re up against,” you say, firing a round of blasts off into the general direction of the other ship, “something new unfolds.”

“Nova—”

“What were you going to say earlier?” you say, and when you realize you’ve cut Wedge off again, you wince. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, genuine, “I’m—I’m not on my game.”

“I heard from Luke,” Wedge says, and then you catch glimpse out of the corner of your eye. It looks like a green lightsaber flash, even though it’s not, even though it can’t be. You squint, and then the full weight of what Wedge just said hits you, and your attention is immediately snapped back to the comm.

“What?” you ask, voice wobbling with something you don’t entirely understand.

“I heard from Luke—” Wedge repeats, and then whatever’s screeching in your commlink cuts him off entirely, and you scream out into the noise before you realize the connection’s lost. The ship in the darkness is shooting at you again, and this time you’ve had it. You yank up on the controls, hard, and Kicker groans as you accelerate her into the sky.

“I know,” you whisper, voice too jittery to be placating, “but you need to work with me, Kicker.” Reluctantly, she does, and when you roll over into your signature move to shoot back with all the artillery you can muster, something shiny flies up in front of you, obstructing your vision. You yell out, slapping your own hands away from the controls before you can shoot Din and his jet pack out of the sky. “What the fuck!” you call, and you know he can’t hear you over the ships’ engines, but with how loud it is, you think he might be listening anyway. Din flaps his hand at you, and you move backward, away from the city, landing just on the outskirts on a pile of gravel. You pull your blaster back into the holster, hand outstretched to the Darksaber, which flies back into your hand as if it’s being called. You stare at it for a second, still so conflicted about the sheer power it radiates, and then your grip tightens around it, storming down the ladder and lowering the gangplank. You don’t have your shawl draped over your head, you’re not being nearly as safe as you should be, especially since you don’t know who was trying to ground you, but you’re rattled and on edge and scared, and you hold both weapons in your hands, preparing.

The other ship blasts out of the darkness and shrouding of the city, and you stare. It’s such a strange shape—a flat back on the rear end, the cockpit round but menacing—and you glare at it, eyes following it all the way to the ground. You start to storm forward, and then Din lands in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Din Djarin,” you say, so low that anyone outside of a one-foot radius can’t hear you, “you better have a good excuse as to why you’re stopping me from fighting back against the ship trying to shoot me out of the sky—”

“I do,” he says, and his voice is low and urgent. “I know them.”

You stare at him as two figures emerge from the ship, and Din steps in front of you as they break into a run, shielding your body with his own.

“Stop,” he says, and both of them do. It’s dark, and you can’t see very well, but you see the long, multifaceted black braid hanging off one of the silhouette’s shoulder and you realize with a jolt that it’s Fennec Shand. Your eyes refocus on the stockier, set figure next to her, and as he steps into the light, you see his face and your heart jumps. He’s older, and he’s marred and scarred from the time he spent in the Sarlacc pit back on Tatooine years ago, but it’s Boba Fett. Your heart jumps in your chest. “It’s us.”

“Why,” Boba Fett starts, his voice low and dangerous, “are you in that ship?”

You stare at him. “Because the Razor Crest was blown up and we needed another vehicle? Also, if you know him,” you continue, voice shaking slightly, pointing to Din, “why are you shooting at us?”

“Where is the Jedi?” he asks, staring at you.

“No Jedi here,” you say, voice still unstable, “unless you mean the untrained one with the weapon of ruling Mandalore in her hands, and then here I am.”

“He must be here,” Fett continues, and you look back and forth between everyone, trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about. “I saw his lightsaber. I saw the ship.”

You look back at Kicker. “Who?” you ask. Your heart is beating so fast, feeding on your adrenaline. You inhale, the breath rattling in your chest. “What are you talking about?”

“Luke Skywalker,” Boba Fett seethes, and your heart drops. You step forward.

“You saw him too?” you ask, voice small.

“No,” Fennec Shand starts, and then Din steps forward at the same time.

“I did too,” he admits, and you look up at him.

You swallow, looking between the three of them, brain working furiously to try and keep up. “I just talked to Wedge,” you say, voice small, “and he said he heard from Luke again.”

Din whips around to face you. “Where’s Grogu?”

Your eyes widen as you shrug. “That’s all I got from him. Then my commlink went haywire again, and the connection dropped. What the hell,” you say, inhaling sharply, “is going on?”

Fett stares back at you. “You know Skywalker?”

“I—I know him in passing,” you say, and you drop down to the ground, exhausted. “I’m in the Rebel Alliance, and he’s training our kid! What do you want with Luke Skywalker?”

“To pay him back for sending me to certain death,” Boba Fett says, his voice measured and angry. Your eyes try to track the differences between him and Din, because in the dark, the similarities are startling. They stand at about the same height, Boba Fett’s armor is older and greener, but right now, it’s nearly impossible to tell. You shiver. This planet is weird.

“Looks like you escaped certain death,” you say, and a small smile curves across Fennec Shand’s face. You look at her, and for the ruthlessness her reputation carries, she has a warmth to her you didn’t expect. “Why were you shooting at me?”

Fett’s face changes. “I thought I saw Skywalker,” he admits, and his voice is less confrontational. I could have sworn it was his X-wing.”

You want to retaliate, and then the shifting shadows of the city in front of you catch your eye, and you understand. Something about the atmosphere seems to be playing tricks on the both of you, so you just exhale and nod. “And you,” you say, turning to Din, “what happened back there? Why did you just leave like that?”

Something in him shrinks.

“You’re in trouble, Mando,” Fennec smirks.

“I thought I saw Luke Skywalker,” Din says, and his voice is just as honest and tired as yours is, and you let him pull you back to your feet. “Something about this place…it isn’t right. We need to get out of here.”

You nod, fervently. Boba Fett and Fennec Shand follow suit.

“That weapon,” Fett says, guarded, eyes locked on the Darksaber hanging from your closed hand, “doesn’t look like it belongs to you.”

“It doesn’t,” you say. Fennec looks at Din, and back at you.

“Belongs to him,” she smiles, and Din sighs, low and heavy, through the modulator.

“It,” Din says tiredly, “does not. You know how hard I tried to get rid of this thing back there. I’m still working on it,” he says, and you feel his gaze on you underneath the visor, “but right now, I think we need to regroup on Nevarro.”

Your heart flips over, half in excitement, half in dread. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Fennec grins again, equal parts venom and warmth. “Not as dangerous as us,” she posits, and both Din and Boba nod in agreement. You shake your head, but the smile on your own face is furious and determined. You split up, Boba and Fennec heading back to his strange, deadly ship, and you and Din return to Kicker, punching in the coordinates for Nevarro. You’re exhausted, and when your eye catches sight of the Darksaber again, it’s in Din’s palm. That colossal, colliding feeling of belonging to each other and belonging to something more sparks up in your chest like a supernova. As you jump into hyperspace, you watch him turn it over and over again, and a small, tiny, sparking part of you imagines him ruling Mandalore with it in one hand and your own in the other.

You missed Nevarro. It’s a wasteland, a strange volcanic desert that spits up lava whenever it desires, and there’s always a weird edge to it, but landing in the same spot as Fett and Shand, knowing Karga and Cara are close by, it gives you a small, strange fortification. Safety, you realize, as the four of you are walking into town, that’s what you’re feeling. You feel safe here, in the presence of people who you know are on your side, even if half of them were just trying to shoot you out of the sky.

Din makes friends so strangely. As the four of you walk into town, over the ashen dried magma, you learn a little bit about how they joined together at the last moment to try and defeat Gideon. Fennec, you realize, is another enemy-turned-ally. She met Din on Tatooine weeks before you did, and she crossed paths with Toro Calican. She says it so freely that you don’t understand at first, and when you remember who they were dealing with, your stomach flips over. They reunited back on Tython, right as Grogu got whisked away by Gideon’s dark troopers, and formed a wary alliance. But the way the three of them are talking now, it seems like every moment of dissonance has been smoothed over, now that everyone’s on the same side. Cara and Din became friends like that, too—guns to each other’s skulls before realizing they were on the same team. It makes you smile as Boba and Fennec talk about Din on your way into Nevarro City. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell he’s at ease, which is a very hard thing for either of you to come by these days. And this is how you know he’s going to be a good ruler. Every single person you’ve met through Din recognized his goodness under all of that bounty hunting and beskar. He’s strategic, and he’s levelheaded, and he can speak more languages than you can. He’s great at both descalation and escalation, at rushing into battles and playing mediator. It doesn’t matter if Mandalore doesn’t accept him straight out, because they’ll see the man he is and the ruler he can be, and every single one of them will fall in love with him, too.

“What’s your plan after this?” Din asks, and you fade back into the conversation, still wearing a small smile in the shape of a badge of pride across your face.

Fennec and Boba exchange looks. “We have business on Tatooine,” Boba says, lowly. “But if there’s still something to be defeated out there, if our job wasn’t finished, then we’ll help you again.”

Din nods. “And after?”

“You know I’d rather have you on the throne than the Kryze girl,” Boba continues, his voice quiet but intense. A small smile snakes its way across Fennec’s face. You think maybe you’ve read her wrong. She doesn’t seem outright malicious. She’s dangerous, and she could easily cut you down if you tried her, but she doesn’t seem to relish double-crossing or killing like you’d heard in the rumors. She just seems to crave chaos, and if that’s what she wants, you’re glad she’s here.

Din sighs. “I don’t want it,” he says, but there’s a reluctance in his voice that you haven’t heard before.

When you look up again, you’re at Nevarro City. You breathe a small sigh of relief, the outcroppings of the familiar buildings stand tall over the horizon. As you cross over into the gateway, you see more stormtrooper helmets on the pike than you thought you saw last time, and your tummy flips over at the knowledge that you might be bringing danger here. You swallow as the four of you make your way to the cantina, and the second the door closes, something shifts. You lift your chin higher, scanning the room for familiar faces. And while you’re preoccupied, Cara comes out of nowhere and punches Din on the arm, in an unarmored spot beneath his pauldrons.

“You know,” he says, “a simple hello could suffice—”

“I’m mad at you,” Cara retaliates, her eyes glinting when she looks over at you. “I put it to rest while we were trying to get the kid, but don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

You quirk your head, trying to get her to explain, and she folds you into a gentle hug for a second before appraising you at arm’s length.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says, genuinely, and then her hand snaps back out to jab Din on the same spot on his arm. “When he told me he just left you somewhere, I could have killed him with my own two hands.”

You smile at her. “I’m honored.”

“I had a plan,” Din mutters.

“Not a good one,” Cara responds, but then she smiles at him. You watch how it lights up her rough face, how pretty she is, especially when her eyes sparkle. “If Nova’s forgiven you, so have I.”

“Well,” you say, looking up at the man you love with a little fire of your own, “about that—”

“Mando!” Greef Karga’s booming voice cuts through the static, and you drop it for now. He walks over to you, cutting around customers and Guild members, weaving a clear path to the five of you. “Welcome back to Nevarro City. I’m sorry about the kid,” he continues, genuinely, slapping a large palm down on Din’s pauldron. “But if I know anything, I know you can get him back.”

You feel Din shrink, just a little, and then he stands up straighter. “We’re here because we have a problem,” he says, lowly, “and we need your help.”

Everybody starts drinking except you and Din. You refuse the spotchka, because it’s daytime on Nevarro, and mostly because you’re too on edge to drink anything, especially if the usual pattern follows suit and you get into some sort of altercation today, but while the rest of them are drinking, you hatch a plan. You and Din will tell Wedge everything you know about the Order, the Alliance will search for information across the galaxy. Karga will stay here on Nevarro City and hold down the fort in case anyone unsavory comes by. Cara will split her time between being the Marshal, traveling with you and Din, and joining forces with Boba and Fennec to keep the six of you connected and up to date. Boba and Fennec, while not with Cara, will use their skills and abilities to act like they’re still in league with the Empire’s leftovers, try and scour of any information they can. As the conversation comes to a close, you realize that you and Din don’t have anything to do immediately other than notifying Wedge.

“What’s our plan?” you ask, lowly, looking over at Din in the low light. “What do we do in the meantime?”

Din looks over at you, then to the other members of your recently forged alliance as they talk and drink. “Did you really think you saw Luke Skywalker back on Khubeaie?”

You stare at him. You blink once, twice, and then nod. “I thought it was just my vision playing tricks on me,” you murmur, fingers flapping around where your necklace used to live. Din, under the visor, tracks the movement, but you don’t pay it that much attention. “And I don’t think—well, the planet was weird. It was playing tricks on all of us. But if you saw him, I saw him, and Boba Fett saw him, then…”

“He was there,” Din finished, lowly, the second half of the sentence raised up as if he meant to ask a question but didn’t go all the way.

“I don’t think he was physically there,” you manage, brushing a way a loose piece of hair, “but I think we all saw him for a reason. Either Khubeaie’s haunted,” you breathe, “or something there is connected with the Force.”

Din stares at you. You can just tell, especially here and now in the cantina. “For you, maybe. But if I saw him, and Fett saw him—”

“Then maybe the planet’s haunted,” you interrupt, and you don’t entirely mean it, but the memory of the comm system warbling and screeching twice makes your blood seep cold through your veins. “Or, at the very least, something weird is going on. But when I talked to Wedge—” you breathe, sharply, “he said he heard from Luke again. And I don’t know about you, but I—”

“Don’t believe in coincidences,” Din finishes, his knee knocking up against yours under the table, “I know. These days, neither do I.”

When you part ways for the night, it’s temporary. Tomorrow, you and Din will hail Wedge and fill him and the New Rogue Squadron in on everything, and Boba and Fennec will head to the places in the galaxy where there’s still affiliates of the Empire to dig for more information. Cara will go interrogate some of the prisoners she’s brought in, offer them reduced sentences if they can fill the rest of the team in on anything related to the mysterious, dark Order. Karga will stay on Nevarro, speaking to the Guild members to try and fish for information about what the Empire leftovers are planning, and how they’re communicating with one another.

You and Din walk back to Kicker, hand in hand, in silence. You can feel sleep calling at you, edging in from the corners of your eyes. It feels like forever since you’ve gotten a full night’s sleep without being knocked out from the bacta, and as much as you love its anasthetic properties when you’ve lost a lot of blood, you want to fall into sleep on your own tonight. Neither of you shower, just undress and strip down into whatever you’re wearing to bed, and crawl into the nest of blankets you’ve made on Kicker’s floor. For hours, it seems, you lay there, together, in the dark, before Din speaks.

“Nova?”

You sigh, halfway into a dream. “Mmm. Yeah?”

He’s quiet, again, and you think you’ve imagined it, so you just burrow down into his warmth, feeling your skin brush up against his. His hands tighten around your waist, just for a second, and you feel so secure that fighting sleep doesn’t really seem like a favorable option. “I love you,” you hear, and then as you drift off into sleep, you hear him whisper, “I meant it. I’m never leaving—” and then you’re gone.

You wake up, and Din isn’t there. Panic floods into your chest, wet and heavy, and you flail around in the blankets, even though you know he’s not cuddled up in there with you. You get up, redress frantically into your only pair of clean clothes, swinging your jacket around your shoulders. The fresher’s empty, and he’s not in the cockpit, and when you slide down to inspect the gangplank, you see it’s been lowered in the last hour.

“Fuck!” you yell, slapping at the thing, which doesn’t do anything except lowering it again. You grab your blaster and shove it into the holster, holding your arm out for the snap of the Force to let the Darksaber fly into your grip. Your heart still hammering, you race down the gangplank, comm on your wrist, yelling the whole way into the city. “Where are you?” you ask, and you realize you sound angry, and you are, because Din keeps promising he’ll never leave your side and then whisks himself away to fight a battle that would be so much easier to win with the two of you in it together, but you’re also terrified. Nevarro isn’t the safest place, especially since Gideon and all of his troopers found Din, Grogu, Cara, and Karga here before, and even though Din’s wearing his armor, you’re scared.

And most of all, you’re upset. You want him here. You promised, a year ago, that you wouldn’t run from him again, and even when you’ve wanted to bolt for your life, you stayed. You don’t go back on your promises. And for Din assuring you he’s a man of his word, he hasn’t kept the most important thing he’s ever sworn to you, and it hurts. Grief and anxiety are two burning pyres in your chest, and as you haul yourself over Nevarro’s rocky, barren surface, heading towards town, you can feel the tears threatening at the corners of your eyes.

You’re tired. You’re so tired. You just want to be back on the ship you call home with the man you love and your child, and you’re so sick of fighting against the people who are trying to either steal you for themselves or make sure you die and stay dead. You know that this wasn’t Ahsoka’s fault, that she didn’t intend to send you on such a draining mission, but some small part of you is angry at her for letting you leave, for spearheading the chain of events that amounted to one huge loss after another. You flutter your hands around your neck, tears streaking down your face once you realize that it too is gone.

You step forward, trying to not let the big, raggedy sobs out into the open air. You duck behind one of the buildings so you can cry in peace, exhausted and strung out, worried for Din and heart still aching with him leaving. You know you should pull it together, go all the way into town and tell Cara, but right now, you can’t move. You cry, quietly and completely, letting the tears build and fall until you’ve run dry.

“Hey,” a voice from behind you says, “I’m looking for a pilot.”

You whip around, hand on your blaster in its holster, ready to fire if needed, but when you spin all the way, it’s not a stranger. It’s Din. He’s down on one knee, helmet off, in the exact place that you met here a year ago.

Your heart flies into your chest. “What are you doing—” you hiss, but no one’s here. And you seem to be frozen to the spot in the same way you were back on Yavin when he proposed the first time, everything rushing through you, exhilarating and confused.

“Preferably a Force sensitive one. Used to be in the Rebel Alliance, and recently reinstated to her previous rank. Can fly anything. You wanted proof,” Din shrugs, and your eyes roam hungrily over his bare face. He doesn’t look hesitant. There’s no trace of him rushing to put it back on, so you step forward, heart in your throat, thrumming and beating like an erratic butterfly. “That I’ll follow you anywhere. I have proof.”

“Proof of what?” you breathe, still walking towards him. Even on his knees, his head comes up to your chest. “Where the hell did you go, you scared the life out of me—”

“You wanted proof,” he says, again, and everything feels dizzying and starry and huge. You feel your heart rush with the feeling of belonging, that something more that tarted right here, in this same spot, on this barren planet, months and months again. “Last time, I didn’t have a ring. But I do now, and I’m never leaving your side again.”

“Din—”

“I tired to make it back before you woke up,” he whispers, earnestly. “I left a note on the dashboard. I just had to make it down to my—to where I used to live, to forge this.”

You swallow. “That’s where you went?”

“I’ve been kicking myself ever since I didn’t give you a ring in the first place,” Din continues, “and I know promising to never leave you again and then waking up must have been—I’m sorry. It was going to be in and out. But I ran into someone down there.”

Your heart flips over. “Did they hurt you—”

“No,” Din shakes his head, the ghost of a smile dancing across his face. “No, it was the Armorer. I thought she was gone, but she’s still alive—it’s a story for another time. But I told her about you,” Din says, lifting his hand to stroke a line down your face, “and she made you something, too.”

Your eyebrows furrow down the middle, and then he pulls out something else made out of the same metal as the ring was—a simple, secured chain, with two charms hanging from it. The symbol of the Alliance, and Din’s signet of the mudhorn. You cry as he loops it around your neck, tears intense and filled with disbelief and magic. “You did this for me?”

Din stares at you. “I’d do anything for you,” he says, finally, voice so soft. “You wanted proof I’d follow you anywhere, right? This is me trying to prove it.” He takes in a shuddering breath, and you smile at him. “You don’t have to forgive me, yet. I know I need to earn it. But, cyar’ika, I’d really love it if you’d agree to marry me.”

“You,” you start, taking a huge, shuddering breath, “always surprise me. I love you.”

Din smiles. “Is that—”

“Yes,” you scream, nodding frantically, “yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I love you, I love—”

And then you’re cut off, the ring slid on your finger, and Din’s on his feet, picking you up and dragging you backwards, down the alley towards a wall, and when he lifts you against the concrete, you sigh out into his mouth. “Ni kar’tayl su,” he starts, and then you pull him in closer, his mouth latched onto yours.

“Darasuum,” you agree, between kisses, “forever.”

He’s pulling at your clothes, and the part of you who knows this is a bad idea is silenced by the way his teeth sink into your shoulder, leaving marks all up and down your upper chest. You kick down your pants, not even bothering to take them off, and when Din rests your feet back down on the ground, immediately, he dives in between your legs, tongue wet and warm and full for you. You moan out, loud, too loud, but you don’t care who hears, not now. His tongue slides up and down, finally locking on your clit, licking swift little circles. You moan, hands seizing into his dark, messy hair, running your thumb over the metal of the ring. He licks into you like he’s been hungry for years and you’re the only thing standing between him and starvation. When he pushes a single finger inside, still eating you like his life depends on it, it’s enough for you to see stars. It feels like forever since you’ve been touched like this without interruption, and you lean into it, breath running ragged, moaning out his name.

“I want to touch you—” you manage, voice high and breathy, “please, Din, let me—”

“Not here,” he says, roughly, pushing another finger inside you. It buckles you over, right on the edge, and you moan into his shoulder, “I’m taking care of you. Don’t argue with me.”

You close your mouth, nodding. His tongue finds you again, his hands on your hips, digging slightly into the flesh there, voracious and insatiable. When he makes you cum, it’s three orgasms in a row, and your legs shake. “Din—Din, I can’t stand up—”

He’s on his feet quicker than you can imagine, like a lightning lash. “Then I’ll hold you here,” he says, and both of your legs are being hiked up. Your bare back scrapes against the concrete, but you barely even hear it sting as you’re being hoisted into the air. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he breathes, something low and lustful in his eyes, “and you need to try to keep quiet, or everyone in Nevarro City will know my name. You can do that for me, can’t you, cyar’ika?”

Your eyes widen, wet heat seeping between your legs. You feel like you’re buzzing. “Yes,” you manage, syllable broken down the middle, and when you feel the head of his cock start to push its way inside of you, wet and ready, you have to clap your own hand over your mouth to keep the very unsavory noises from leaking out into the open air of the town.

“Good girl,” Din manages, and then his mouth is on yours, his hips fucking into you hard and fast, a staccato rhythm punctuated by both of your muffled moans, burying himself into you. You let yourself be held there, hands tangled up ferociously in his hair, using as much gravity as you can to get him to pound you like you’ve never been pounded before, writhing with your hips, everything starry and alive, wanting him to get to whatever universe you’re in. His breath hitches, and you know he’s close, already, he’s close, and it feels like you’ve barely started, but you grab at his bare face with your hands and nod, giving him permission. Your comm warbles, but Din’s muttering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you you’re so fucking wet, sweet, pretty girland I can’t wait to have your pussy forever, and right before he climaxes, he moans out your name, and then a breathy I love you, and whatever your comm is yelling out, you don’t hear it, because you’re too preoccupied with letting the man you love mark you as his, over and over and over.

When you finish, you feel how puffy and wet you still are, and if it wasn’t for the incessant bleeping and blinking on your wrist, you’d beg him to fuck you again. And then your head registers it’s Cara, hailing the both of you, and you and Din make eye contact in a panic, both frantically redressing.

“It’s me,” you manage, voice still fucked from going to heaven and back, “are you okay?”

“You both need to get here, to the cantina,” Cara says, and her voice is clipped and short. You exchange looks with Din before he slips the helmet back on, and you run your hand over your messy hair, hoping the braid isn’t beyond repair, and both of you bolt towards the cantina. You toss Din the blaster, he tosses back the Darksaber, steps matched up, hurrying toward the center of town.

“I want you to know,” Din says, lowly, right before the door opens, “ regardless of what’s waiting for us in there, I’m not done fucking you.”

Despite everything, you grin back at him, brazen, chest still heaving. “Better not be.”

When you break through the vestibule, it takes your eyes a minute to adjust. When they do, you realize who’s standing there, Cara’s eyebrow lifted, staring over at you and Din intently. The other woman turns around, and your feel the smallest bit of panic flood into you as you take in her chiseled jaw, her short red hair, the way her eyes lock onto you holding the Darksaber.

“Bo-Katan,” you start, and she steps forward, not aggressive, but intentionally.

She looks both you and Din up at down, gaze landing on the Darksaber, and then back on your face. “I’m not here for that.” You watch her face, looking for a bluff. It isn’t there. “We need to talk.”

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!!!! it's so bittersweet, because so much of this chapter feels like the prelude to the end none of us wants to come, but i want you all to know that even though SM is coming to a close, there is so much more going to be in the sequel. if it doesn't feel like everything is resolved, please remember MORE IS COMING!!! i needed to leave some loose ends to make sure i had enough content for the second one ;)

with that being said, i anticipate SM will be ending with one or two more chapters. likely two more, because there's so much content planned, but as soon as i start writing, i will update you all on tumblr (amiedala) and tiktok (padmeamydala) to give you a definitive answer. if it is just one more chapter, it will be LONG!!! i don't want any of this to end, but this part of the story is coming to a close, and i cannot wait to share the sequel with you all <3 i love you all so much!!!!! thank you for taking this journey with me!!!!!

CHAPTER 29 WILL BE UP AT 7:30 PM EST SATURDAY, JULY 10TH!!!

xoxo, amelie

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jadeee · 3 years ago

Text

My Little Star

Celia gives you a gift. After all, stars must shine.

Word Count: 1k

~ Quick A/N: The devs haven't released her route yet, so idk if she has maids or that sorta thing but let's go with it for now.

You still haven’t gotten used to her. After all, you’ve only been together for a few days. It’s not about how little you know the woman before you. It was something else but you couldn’t -

“What is it?” Celia set her glass onto the table.

“Uh,” you blinked your eyes frantically “it’s nothing.”

She smirked while bringing a napkin to her pouted lips.

“Don’t think too hard, sugar.”

You tried to suppress how flustered you were.

Celia placed the napkin next to her glass, “I have something for you.”

“Oh, really?” You gripped the edges of your seat.

“I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but I can’t wait.”

She left you at the table and walked towards the mahogany cabinet.

The blush house robe she wore fluttered behind her as she walked across the room. She just woke up not too long ago. Her brown hair was tucked into an ornate hair clip.

“I normally don’t do this, but I couldn’t resist.” She faced you with a smile while hiding the gift behind her back.

“I’m honored.”

She sat down next to you, “As you should be.”

Before she could place the box down, her maid entered the room.

“Ms. del Rio?” They stood at the entrance with a bouquet of roses.

“Yes?” Celia looked past you at them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but he brought these for you.”

Celia’s smile faded, “I see.”

You turned to see who this ‘he’ was and what exactly he brought.

Celia tucked your surprise under her arm and strode towards the maid.

“Thank you,” she grabbed the bouquet “why don’t you take the day off?”

The maid’s eyes went wide “But I have so much to do.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll be well compensated.” She gave them a small smile while they stood there stunned.

“You work so hard, just take the whole week off!” Celia started to walk towards you with the flowers and gift in hand.

“Thank you, Ms. del Rio!” They beamed while undoing the strings of their apron.

“Of course.” Celia faced them once more and returned their smile.

Her smile evaporated once they left the room.

You didn’t notice until she started walking towards you. She opened a nearby trash can and tossed the roses in without a second thought.

“Now, where was I?” The corners of her lip turned up when she felt for the box under her arm.

“But, the roses!” You looked up at her and she laughed at the concern in your eyes.

She sat down next to you, “What about them?”

“Why did you throw them away? They were beautiful!”

“My dear,”

Your breath hitched for a second. She flicked her eyes up at you.

“Do you know what you remind me of?” She pulled the box out from under her arm and set it in front of you. A blue box with a white ribbon. You’d only seen it in movies or magazines but never in person. It was from Tiffany and Company. In other words, it was very expensive.

She chuckled at how you stared at it.

“Are you going to open it?”

“Yes, I just - I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Your fingers brushed the lid.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” She picked up the lid with grace and the diamonds winked at you.

“Celia,” you gasped.

“As I was saying,” her perfectly manicured nails picked up the diamond necklace “do you know what you remind me of?”

Your eyes followed the shining strand in her hands, “What’s that?”

Celia unclasped the necklace and reached for your neck.

You remained frozen as her face inched towards yours. The necklace felt cold on your warm skin.

“A star.” Her breath tickled your neck and you tried to compose yourself.

A small noise filled the room as she clasped the necklace. She brushed her fingertips across your skin while pulling her hands back. You felt the hair on your neck stand up, among other things.

She settled into her seat with a small smile.

“Why a star?” You touched the diamonds which rested above your sternum.

“Because they stand out.”

“Wait,” you thought about the bracelet she took from you on your first encounter.

She read your mind, “I didn’t steal it.”

A huff escaped her lips before she took another sip from her glass.

“That’s actually not what I was going to say, Ms. del Rio.” You chided.

She raised a brow and pulled the glass from her mouth “Do speak up then, sugar.”

“Why a necklace and not a bracelet? Y’know, to replace what you stole from me.”

Celia let out a little laugh “I wouldn’t say steal, I merely borrowed it.”

“Oh, really?” You grinned.

“Yes” she leaned forward, “I planned on giving it back when I saw you again.”

Again, you nodded at her confidence.

“With a necklace, one can never get too close without you knowing.”

She moved closer to you “Unless you let your guard down.”

Her soft green eyes gazed into yours.

“What if I want my guard to be down?” Your eyes trailed down to her lips.

“Then I’d say be careful.”

Your fingers found the material of her house robe.

She smirked as you ran your hand up her leg. Sure, she was dangerous but isn’t that love? Everything faded away when your lips met hers. When you kissed her harder, she smiled against your lips. She cupped your cheek in her hand, then slid her hand around your neck.

You pulled back slightly but she remained close to you.

“Careful, stars can fall y’know?”

“It’s a good thing I’m here to catch you.” Her fingertips were at the nape of your neck along with the clasp of the necklace.

You smiled at her comment.

“Are you going to borrow this too?” You joked while she admired you in the diamonds she picked out.

“Oh please,” she chuckled “I’ll do as I see fit.”

Without warning, she collided her lips against yours. You hoped what she saw fit involved more of this as you pulled her closer by her robe.

~~~ A/N: I'm sorry but the sexual tension 😪 I just - ugh. I can't wait for her route to come out, I'm so excited for the storyline, cgs, the outfits!!!

#fictif #fictif celia #celia del rio #fictif hollywoodland #madebyjade

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

Text

Where We Start Again - 9

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: how do you fake date someone you have real feelings for?

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Playlist by @tiny-friggin-human thanks for coming along on this ride 😔

“Y/n, you have a gentleman caller.”

You perked up from your hospitality notes and looked at your roommate, Navi. She had a knowing smirk on her lips as she nodded towards your window. Your eyes shifted to the window and you saw Spiderman waving at you.

“Peter!” You jumped off your bed and rushed to the window before looking back at your friends. “Could you please leave the room? You can’t see his face.”

“Yeah yeah, we know the drill.” Navi rolled her eyes. “Come on girls.” She took Maeve’s hand and pulled her up. Leah got off the floor and followed them to the door.

“Just let us see him.” Leah whined. “Who are we gonna tell, The New York Times?”

“She’s right, Y/n.” Maeve added. “It’s been two years already. We want to know what your boyfriend looks like.”

You looked back at Peter and then at your friends as you chewed your bottom lip. They did have a point. There was no way around telling them about Spiderman after he came to visit one night when Leah was sleeping over and the only way to get her to stop beating him with her pillow was to tell her he was your boyfriend, but they still had no idea he was Peter. After two years of them leaving your shared room every weekend when Peter came to visit, maybe it was time they met him.

“I’ll think about it.” You told them as they looked satisfied as Navi reached for the door. “Girls?”

They all looked at you and you gave them a grateful smile.

“Thank you for doing this every week.” You said. “I love you.”

“And we love you. Now go jump his skeleton.” Mauve rolled her eyes and tugged Navi and Leah out of the room.

“Why did I tell her about that?” You groaned before opening your window.

“Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to exit the vehicle.” Peter said in his best Chicago cop accent.

“Peter!” You cheered and pulled him into his room. Peter wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled his mask off with the other. As soon as his face was uncovered, you grabbed it and kissed him deeply. He wrapped both arms around your waist and walked backwards until you both fell on your bed. The soft Star Wars sheets that you stole from Peter cushioned your fall and bunched up underneath you. You let out a loud laugh upon impact and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking in his scent as you played with his curls.

“I missed you, baby.” You sighed happily and kissed the top of his head. You pushed him over so he was on his back and kissed every inch of his face.

“I miss you more, daisy.” He laughed in content. “And I missed doing this.” Peter flipped you over so you were on your back before leaning down and kissing you again, letting it linger this time.

“Tell me everything about the past two weeks.” You said once you pulled away. “Was this Eddie Brock guy really that important that you couldn’t come see me?”

Peter wrapped one arm around you and laced your fingers through his with his other hand.

“Eddie was whatever, his friend Venom was why I had to miss our weekend together.” He blew out a breath as he remembered. “He kidnapped this ginger and dangled her from a taxi off a bridge. It was insane.”

“Dangled her how?” You wondered.

“He made a big, black web and kept her there.” Peter said as he looked down at you. A small smile crept across his lips that’s drove you crazy. You moved so you were straddling him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“You’re my hero.” You whispered before kissing him again.

“Sorry, Y/n, I just forgot my- oh, my bad.” You heard Navi’s voice and immediately climbed off of Peter. She stood awkwardly in the doorway with her hand on her wallet, wide eyes looking at Peter until she slapped a hand over them. You looked at Peter in a panic now that she had seen his identity, but he was totally calm.

“Hi Navi, right?” Peter sat up a little. “You can uncover your eyes. It’s all right.”

You looked at Peter curiously and he gave you a reassuring smile. Navi slowed took her hand away from her eyes and focused once again on Peter. She smiled a little, as if she approved.

“Navi, this is my boyfriend Peter.” You said slowly. “Peter, this is my best friend Navi.”

“From your studio art club, right? Y/n has told me a lot about you.” Peter said politely as he held out a hand. Navi hesitantly shook his hand, shivering a little when the material of his suit touched her. When she realized he was just a regular human being under the mask, she relaxed.

“Oh, Y/n never shuts up about you.” Navi chuckled slightly. “Do you know how many times I’ve heard the gogurt story?”

“Aw. The gogurt that started it all.” Peter pouted as he reminisced the beginning of your relationship.

“We should get gogurt to sponsor our wedding.” You added and they both laughed. It made you realize that you were silly to ever worry about them meeting. They were getting along just fine.

“You know, I was about to get meet the girls in the courtyard. You guys should come.” Navi suggested as she pointed to the door.

“Do you want to go, daisy?” Peter asked you. “I’d love to meet all your friends.”

“Are you sure? They know you’re Spiderman. If they see your face, they’ll know your identity.” You worried, watching his face to gage his reaction.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take to meet my girlfriends friends.” Peter kissed you briefly before looking back at Navi. “We’ll meet you there, Navi.”

“Cool. We’ll be at the usual table.” She told you and left the room.

You waited for her to shut the door before you turned to Peter.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You said softly. “You’re allowed to say no.”

“I want to meet your friends. I want to put faces to names.” He insisted. “If you can spend your Friday night eating a gross sandwich with me and Ned, I can spend a little time with your friends.”

You smiled gratefully at him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“They’re gonna have a million questions for you.” You reminded him. “None of them have been to New York. And Leah is still confused about how you stick to walls.”

“Then I’ll simply have to explain to her that I was bitten by a radioactive spider and naturally it gave me its powers.” Peter shrugged easily and you laughed.

“If you insist. She’s a total conspiracy theorist, though. She told me the birds work with the bourgeoisie-“

“Which they obviously do.” Peter cut in.

“-and now she says chihuahuas report back to the government about the lives of the upper class.” You continued. Peter pulled you off the bed and held you to his chest.

“Well she sounds amazing and I can’t wait to meet her. I can’t wait to meet all your friends. But first, I have something for you.” He let go on you and took his backpack off his shoulders.

“Cookies?” You teased.

“Not this time. Last time I tried to bring you cookies, they were dust by the time I landed.” Peter shook his head as he remembered the incident.

“Then what is it?”

“Turn around.” Peter asked and you complied. You turned around and stared at the wall as he came up behind you. Peter gently lifted up your hair, making your cheeks flush as his fingertips ghosted over your neck. You felt the cold chain of a necklace being placed on you as Peter fastened the clasp. You looked down and touched the pendant, finding a small gold “p” on your neck.

“P for Parker.” He whispered and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

“You got me a necklace?” You turned around and looked at Peter, eyes soft with fondness. You pinched the pendant between your fingers, holding it like it was the most precious thing you owned.

“Kind of.” He said shyly. “It was my moms.”

“Oh, Peter. I can’t accept this. You should hold on to it.” You insisted but he shook his head.

“No, no. I want you to have it.” He took your hands in his. “My dad gave it to her on their honeymoon. He said it was for the one he loved most in this world. And for me, that’s you.” He smiled softly. “I’d be honored if you wore it.”

“It’s beautiful, Peter. Thank you.” You pulled Peter into a kiss before wrapped your arms around him and hugging him. Peter hugged you back tightly, putting a hand on the back of your head to hold you close.

“My parents would’ve loved you.” He mumbled in your ear and you held him tighter.

“I love you.” You laughed as a tear of happiness fell from your eye. Peter pulled away and held your shoulders as he looked at you fondly.

“Come on.” He cupped your face. “Let’s go meet your friends.”

You held Peters hand as you led him to your usual table in the courtyard. The laughter quieted down as your friends looked at Peter, now in his regular clothes. Peter smiled at them and they looked at each other in disbelief.

“Peter, this is Kayla, Leah, Navi, and her girlfriend Maeve.” You pointed time each of your friends and Peter nodded at them.

“Wait, Peter? The sandwich boy?” Maeve sat up a little and slung an arm around Navi.

“That’d be me.” Peter waved stiffly. You sat down next to Leah, gesturing for Peter to sit next to you.

“I see your sandwich and I challenge you this: a smoothie with every fruit you have in the house. Keep in mind though, tomatoes are a fruit.” Leah, the one with the curly hair and rosy cheeks, challenged Peter. Peter smirked at her, always up for a challenge.

“I like it.” He nodded. “Challenge accepted.”

“You’re forgetting you have the pallet of a toddler and hate tomatoes.” You teased him and he scoffed.

“I’ve matured, daisy.” He said smugly as he wrapped an arm around you. “I don’t have to hold my nose when I eat my broccoli anymore.”

“What a man.” You laughed and kissed his cheek swiftly.

“You guys are really sweet.” Maeve nodded at you two and ran her fingers through her boy short hair.

“We can be.” You shrugged and rested your head on Peters shoulder.

“So what are you guys majoring in?” Peter asked the group to get to know them better.

“I’m in graphic design.” Kayla, your friend with hair dyed in greens, blues and purples said. “But I met Navi and Y/n in studio art club.”

“Business.” Leah stated. “Y/n and I met when I was her waitress at the restaurant I work at and now we’re working on a movie script together.”

“Oh, what restaurant?” Peter asked politely and Leah immediately clenched her jaw.

“I would tell you, but the name alone evokes such a rage in me that I have to lie down for ten minutes.” Leah explained.

“Oh.” Peter looked at you curiously.

“It’s Olive Garden.” You whispered in his ear.

“Oh.” He nodded in understanding.

“Oh God.” Leah’s face went pale.

“I’m sorry. I tried to whisper it.” You apologized and she gave you a tight smile.

“It’s okay. I’m just thinking about the bottomless salad and it’s really getting to me.” Leah fanned herself with her hand and Navi held a hand to her forehead to check her temperature.

“Deep breaths.” Navi instructed. “You’re in a safe space.”

“Whew.” Leah let out a breath and smiled. “And I’m calm.”

“Moving on,” Maeve snorted and Leah shoved her slightly, “I’m in Pre Law. Y/n and I met in band.”

“Do you play the guitar too?” Peter asked her.

“Yeah. Much better than miss L/n over here.” Maeve teased and pelted her straw wrapper at you.

“Hey! I got a lot better.” You insisted and everyone at the table made a face.

“She decided to join advanced band when all she could do was strum along to a few songs and maybe play two of them.” Maeve laughed. “What was the song she auditioned with again? You Belong With Me?”

“It was Hey There Delilah.” You mumbled and Peters eyes lit up.

“That’s right! She played it and the director was like ‘great! what else can you play?’ and her face dropped.” Maeve told the story and the table laughed at your expense.

“I can play other songs. That one just has special memories attached.” You shrugged and Peter kissed your temple.

“Yes you can, Princess.” Maeve baby talked to you. “She can play that riverdale song.”

“It’s not from Riverdale.” You groaned. “It’s just called ‘Marry Me, Archie’. Any ties to Riverdale are merely coincidental.”

“We’re just playing with you. Shes so easy to rile up.” Kayla said to Peter with a teasing smile.

“I know she is. Have you guys ever heard the story about the fish centerpieces at the dance she planned?” Peter wiggled his eyebrows and the girls looked at each other with interest.

“Peter.” You warned.

“Tell us!” Navi exclaimed. Peter began to tell the story of the dance and as much as you wanted to be annoyed, you couldn’t be. Your friends and your boyfriend were finally coming together. For the first time in your life, you were surrounded by people you knew cared for you, and knew you. You leaned over and kissed Peters cheek as he began to tell the story of the time you made cookies, smiling to yourself as he spoke.

Peter shut the door behind you later that night after you said goodbye to your friends. You set your jacket down on your desk chair and turned to Peter.

“Navi is sleeping over at Maeve’s.” You said softly as you adjusted the collar on his flannel. “You can stay if you’d like.”

“I’d definitely like.” Peter smiled shyly and brushed the hair out of your face.

“Did you have fun?” You asked hopefully and Peter nodded.

“I did.” He said. “Your friends are really nice.”

“I know. I promise, they won’t tell anyone about your identity. I made them all swear.” You assured him and he shrugged.

“I’m not worried about that, daisy.” He shook his head. “I’m just happy you found people who can appreciate the way I do.”

“Well they can’t appreciate me every way you can.” You smiled and leaned up to kiss him slowly.

“I know, baby girl. Some things are reserved just for me.” He said softly before kissing you again.

“Do you guys - - op!” The door opened and Navi put a hand over her eyes. “My bad, part two.”

“Do you knock?” You grumbled and pulled away from Peter.

“Apparently not.” Navi shrugged. “We were just gonna grab some frozen yogurt. Do you guys wanna come?”

“We’ll catch up. Thanks Navi.” You gave her a tight smile and she took that as her cue to leave.

“I’ll leave to you it.” She winked at you before shutting the door.

“You don’t want frozen yogurt? I thought it was your favorite.” Peter wondered once Navi had gone.

“It is. But I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Yogurt can wait.” You pulled him back to you and rested your head against his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around you and swayed gently, dancing without any music.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” You told Peter as he stroked your hair. “You make me so proud every day.”

“Thank you, daisy.” He smiled against your hair. “And you make me proud too.”

“I’m not doing anything.” You chuckled and looked up at him.

“Yes you are.” He looked down at you. “You found a really great group of friends who love you and know you. The real you. I remember when you used to think that was impossible.”

“You showed me it wasn’t impossible.” You smiled fondly at him as the moonlight light up his features. “I miss you so much when you’re not here.”

“Two more years and you’ll be done with school and I’ll be making history.” He quoted the song to make you smile. “Although, I’m pretty sure you’ll be the one making history.”

“Someone has to revolutionize the fish centerpiece market.” You shrugged smugly and Peter laughed.

“I’m being serious.” He insisted. “You are the most capable and ambitious person I know. My girlfriend is gonna change the world.” He said proudly as he spun you around.

“Theres one thing I hope never changes.” You said as you twirled back into him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Whats that?” He asked quietly, taking in the moment.

“This.” You smiled fondly at him and pulled him closer. “Us. You and me.”

“Daisy, this could never change.” Peter held your face between his hands to really look at you, his only love. “I won’t let it.”

THE END

~Hey, thanks for reading. Me love you ❤️~

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troublesometrollhunters · 4 years ago

Note

Headcanons of siren!Morgana and sea pirate reader? :3c

~ Your the captain of your small ship and your pirate team is feared around the world. Strickler the weapons and historian/linguistics expert, Otto the doctor, sharp shooter, and sailor, Nomura the warrior, ship hand, lock smith and seducer, and you are the world's best thief, fighter, and pirate. You steal from the rich, give to the poor, and keep all the cool stuff for yourselves. Your team is small but mighty. With all your combined skills your unstoppable and your hesists are unforgettable. Than one day you meet her.

~ Mermaids are friends to pirates as they value any allies to the seas but sirens they drag your ship down and they leave no survivors. Their melodious song the last thing you hear before your drowning in the unforgiving depths as their class rip you apart. Otto warned you about her, the notorious sea witch, the siren queen, Morgana Le Faye.

~ However she is different than the stories told about her. Mischevious sure but malicious? Not really. If anything she seems curious about humans and sings to them to get the answers she wants. It's not her fault if the fools drown themselves because their not careful. All good pirates and sailors know to take precautions.

~ Your at the wheel of the ship watching the fog roll in as the stars shine above. The night is quiet and the sea still as the waters come to a rest, lapping at the ship gently. All is peaceful as your crew sleeps but then you hear it. Promises of gold, glory, and acceptance. You hum knowing her song and thank the cotton and wax stuffed in your ears for their assistance. You can still semi hear but her song is all but drowned out and the things her song promise you are things you already have, therefore you can resist.

~ When her song doesn't work you see the siren poke her head over the side of the ship curious. Her tail slaps against the ship, golden tail glowing in the moonlight. Her illuminating green eyes search for people as her claws keep her clinging to the deck. Her hair is as red as fire and fans out around her longer than any hair you'd ever seen on a human woman and her face was dotted in freckles like the stars. When she sees you she's so surprised her grip loosens and she falls back into the sea, sinking under the waves.

~ The next night she's back. Curious eyes watching you work the deck as she observes. You hum at her and she smiles waving in repsonse, her claws reminding you just how dangerous she could be. She dissapears before the sun rises but you notice how she leaves you a gift before she goes.

~ Otto sees the long lost pirates gold your fiddling with and he warns you Morgana is known to seduce sailors and pirates only to drag them to their watery deaths. Strickler advises you be careful do not break her heart but do not fall in love with her. Nomura suggests you do what you feel is right but you feel that's her attempt of trying to kill you so she may take the role of Captain on the ship.

~ The next night she comes you decide to do whats best for your saftey and the crews. You ask her to leave, shooing her away with your hands. But she stays. You try to scare her away but the waves begin to shake the boat and your left having to decide between pride and your life. You let Morgana stay and she seems satisfied as the sea once again stays calm.

~ She speaks English. Her siren song and Mer is intresting to listen to but you do not know the languae. You can't communicate so eventually she gives in and admits she knows English she just doesn't like it. As you sit on the deck letting your ship be lead by the waves Morgana tells you stories far older than you and makes jokes that have you laughing until early morning.

~ Sirens are not night creatures but Morgana says the sun irritates her skin so she always slips beneath the waves before morning light. The other crew members catch glimpses of her but they never say anything in fear of your wrath of hers. It's clear that Morgana has chosen you so they leave it worried for your saftey but intrigued to see where this'll go.

~ The siren soon starts officially courting you. She brings treasures from the sea. Gold, jewels, necklaces of immeasurable wealth, artifacts, magic trinkets, rich silk clothes, preserved maps, ancient books, wines, fresh fish, and whatever she finds that she thinks you'll like.

~ It's the greatest dishonor to not use/wear what a mermaid or siren gifts you when courting. So often you find yourself covered in gold, emeralds, and rubies (Morganas main colors). She asks about the gifts shes gotten you too see if you've looked through them or like them. You try to return the favor giving her intresting human items but she says she likes spoiling you and that you need not worry about pleasing her. However you notice she never turns down a gift and even begins carrying a satchel so she may always have the things you give her close.

~ Pretty soon Morgana becomes a constant in your life and the life of your pirates. She gives Strickler books long lost to history, Otto strange but effective medicines, and Nomura weapons the siren knows she'd like. The crew are unsure at first but months go by and Morgana has done nothing to harm any of you or the ship. So they begin to relax. She follows your boat everyday and night enjoying the stories you share about your adventures on land. She even begins to help! Sending Storms and rough waves at ships that chase you so she knows your safe while those that intend to harm you are not.

~ You begin falling for Morgana, in a way you've never fallen for anyone. You love her and the crew loves you. You want to tell her but your unsure how. One night you lean in to kiss her and she kisses back making you blush. She smiles before slipping under the waves.

~ She comes back the next night and she gives you a ring but it's unlike any ring you've ever seen. She comes onto the ship and her long golden tail turns into two legs. She smiles at you before slipping the golden ring on your finger showing her matching one.

"Marry me?" Otto warned you not to give you heart but Morgana had stolen it long ago. Nodding yes before kissing her your crew mates clap happy for you and your new first mate and wife.

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

Note

For the soulmate letter prompts, Felinette with prompt O please.

O: Opportune outfit (soulmates will eternally color coordinate, even if they have not met one another yet, and often times have similar patterns in their clothing)

(Thank you @symwinter and @desiiigirl for this ask! I had a ton of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy!)

“We’re here live tonight at the Carrousel du Louvre where Audrey Bourgeois is hosting her biggest party yet! Celebrities of all kinds will be invited, including Jagged Stone, Gabriel Agreste, and MDC herself! Stay tuned to catch sight of these incredible fashion icons!”

Marinette drew in a deep breath to calm her nerves as her miniature limo drove up to the front entrance. She’d been to plenty of parties before hosted by celebrities, but none as big as this. There were going to be reporters everywhere who would hold her under a magnifying glass all evening and powerful, influential people that she would have to tip-toe around to make a good first impression. On top of that, this was going to be the night she revealed her exclusive designer’s dress that she’d kept a secret for the last six months! It was an extremely important event for her, and she didn’t want to mess anything up.

The limo pulled to a stop in front of the red carpet, causing Marinette’s breath to catch in her throat. She quickly checked her hair and makeup, then smoothed out the corners of her dress.

“You can do this.” She muttered to herself. “You’ve already made it this far. Now, you get to show the world why.”

The driver opened her car door, and Marinette offered the reporters a bright smile as she stepped outside. Screams of delight and excitement swept over the crowds of people that were huddled on both sides of the carpet. Cameras were flashing everywhere, almost blinding her, but Marinette kept an elegant stride despite it as she signed a few autographs.

“Ladies and gentlemen, MDC has just arrived at the gala, and may I say her dress looks absolutely dazzling!” A reporter to her left trilled. “The navy blue mixed with those silver dots and stars makes it look like the night sky! And the way the sheer fabric in sewn to the dress makes it look like the stars are trailing behind her as well! It’s truly a fantastic creation, especially with that diamond, crescent moon necklace to compliment it! Could this be that secret design that MDC’s corporation has been hinting about for so long?”

Marinette tried to contain her grin, but by the time she walked inside the Carrousel du Louvre, she was positively glowing. After spending many sleepless nights working on Starry Night- as her design was called - hearing the multitude of praises from the reporters was immensely satisfying. It made the whole project feel worthwhile.

“Oh, Marinette!”

Audrey Bourgeois, having heard the commotion, waltzed over to the Louvre entrance to greet her. She seemed to be as fashionable and haughty as ever, and Marinette pulled an extra bright smile in an effort to please the woman. "Bonjour Audrey." She said politely. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Thank you for inviting me to your party.”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Audrey replied, linking her arm with Marinette’s to guide her into the heart of the party. “I’ve been dying to speak with you about your latest designs, anyway. You’ve certainly made a name for yourself since the first time we met.”

A bit of tension melted from Marinette’s shoulders at the comment, and she felt a more genuine smile settle onto her lips. The last time she saw Audrey was when she’d been offered that job in New York, the same job that she ended up declining. It was good to know that Audrey wasn’t holding a grudge against her for that.

“Yes, these last two years have been quite eventful.” Marinette agreed. She’s managed to build a small company out of her designs that’s only continued to grow. The fact that she’d already designed things for Jagged Stone and Gabriel himself definitely helped her take-off.

“Indeed. Even my customers all the way in America have heard of you, which is why I wanted to propose a collaboration between us.”

“A collaboration?”

“Yes! Imagine how much popularity you’ll gain if we-”

“Audrey! Audrey Bourgeois!”

Audrey’s pleasant expression quickly soured when someone from across the room called out her name, interrupting whatever proposition she was going to make.

“What is it?” The woman snapped. “I’m busy.”

A man stepped forward from the crowd, his countenance stern and unimpressed. “We were supposed to talk about the location of your next fashion show. Need I remind you that I have other business I need to attend to tonight?”

Audrey huffed and rolled eyes. “Fine, fine, we’ll talk then. Marinette, dear, do me a favor and stay put while I go discuss a few matters with M Laurence.”

Marinette nodded and took to idly surveying the room while the two strolled off to another corner of the Louvre. She wasn’t sure why Audrey would have to leave to talk about fashion show locations, but she supposed it also wasn’t any of her business either. Everyone had their own way of working, right?

The Carrousel du Louvre was an extraordinary place, especially with the gold and silver decorations lining the walls. Lights reflected off of the glass pyramid that dipped into the center of the room, making it shine almost as brightly as it would in the day, and the floors were polished so well that Marinette could actually part of her reflection in it.

The guests were no less remarkable than the setting too. Save for a scarce few, she could recognize every face in the crowd, be it through newspapers, magazines, movies, or heads of rival companies. A part of her almost miniscule in the presence of such greatness. Audrey certainly knew how to throw an enchanting party.

“Yo, Marinette! Is that you?”

A voice that Marinette immediately recognized yelled out to her, and she turned around with an eager smile to greet them.

“Uncle Jagged! When did you get here?”

Jagged wormed his way out of the crowd with a wide grin. “I should be asking you the same thing! That dress looks great by the way.”

Marinette giggled and offered him a little spin. “Thanks! It took me forever to finish it. How have you been?”

“Oh, the usual. I’ve been rock and rollin’ to my heart’s content. Have you tried the food here yet?”

“Afraid not. Audrey told me to stay put until she came back from a meeting with somebody.”

Jagged scoffed and gently took her by the arm. “Audrey Shm-audrey. You’re an adult now! You can do whatever you want, like coming to try these over-priced cream puffs with me.”

Marinette snorted, but before she could reply, a cacophony of squeals tugged her attention to the front entrance of the Louvre. Someone new was joining the party, and it had the reporters quite excited.

“It appears that Felix Culpa has decided to come to the gala after all! There was speculation of him skipping out, but we’re happy to see him regardless!”

Annoyance swirled in the back of her mind at the mention of the actor, though she tried to hide it for the sake of civility. Ever since she started her small fashion business, Felix Culpa has been indirectly stealing her designs and wearing them without giving her an ounce of credit. She’s not sure how, since she’s jumped through who knows how many hoops to keep her projects a secret, but he does. Magazines, social media, behind-the-scenes pictures from his movies- anything he appears in, he’s wearing something of hers, be it a t-shirt or a tuxedo or a button-up shirt with jeans. It was infuriating, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not figure out where the leaks were coming from. No one was sending out emails, no one was going to visit him in person, and no one was posting any pictures of the working process online. And yet, he still managed to match his outfit with everything she created.

She couldn’t even sue him for copyright! Because, technically, all of the outfits that he’d worn so far had been made from a mix of his own wardrobe, and that, unfortunately, wasn’t a crime.

Whatever, she thought to herself with a slight shake of the head. At least he can’t copy me tonight.

“What’s this?” A reporter gasped. “Folks, I’m not sure if I’m actually seeing this, but Felix Culpa has just stepped out in a silver tuxedo with a navy, button-up shirt underneath that matches MDC’s outfit exactly!”

Marinette’s jaw had to have dropped to the floor when she heard those words. How was that possible? There was no way Felix could have coordinated his outfit with hers! No one even knew what she was going to be wearing! Unless this some insane coincidence?

“Oh, Look at that! He even has a small, diamond star clipped to his tie! Could Felix Culpa be dressed as MDC’s moon?!”

Marinette whirled around to face the entrance. This was most certainly not a coincidence. Even if he did decide to wear a silver tux tonight, nothing should have prompted him to wear a diamond star clip. Not unless he was trying to copy her designs again.

“Marinette? Are you alright?” Jagged Stone asked, noticing the sudden shift in her mood.

“I’m fine.” She said, forcing a leveled tone as she eyed the door. “I’m just going to go greet M Culpa, if you don’t mind.”

“ No problem! Come find me by the hors d'oeuvres when you’re done.”

Marinette didn’t bother throwing Jagged a tight smile as she stalked towards the door. Instead, she focused on how, exactly, she was going to call this esteemed actor out on his indirect theft without making a scene. This was a high class party, and she couldn’t afford to make a fool of herself. At the same time, however, she desperately needed to know how he’d been matching her outfits to a fault.

Felix Culpa strode into Louvre a moment later, wearing the very tuxedo that the reporter had described. The silver jacket and dress pants matched the glittering stars on her dress, while the navy blue, button-up shirt underneath matched the main color of her outfit. Don’t even get her started on the diamond clip! It was like the thing had been bought as a pairing with her necklace! The only way he could have coordinated with her that well was if he looked at a picture of her dress directly, which didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t have seen her dress! It’s been in her personal apartment since she started working on it!

His eyes scanned over the room leisurely, stopping when they landed on her, and for a moment, Marinette felt her anger falter, because my gosh was he a gorgeous man. She’d seen pictures of him plenty of times, but they apparently didn’t do him any justice. His strong jawline and defined cheekbones were perfectly framed by his pale, blond hair in a way she’d never noticed before. Then, there was his slender figure that the tuxedo seemed to cling to..

Marinette shook her head slight. Focus! There was a reason I was walking over here!

She offered the man a smile as she approached him, so as not to alarm him towards her somewhat hostile intentions, and he returned the smile with a slight nod.

“I assume you’re MDC?” He said in greeting.

Marinette nodded, barely holding back a sarcastic tone as she replied, “What gave me away?”

A small smile graced Felix’s lips, and he gestured to her dress. “I believe I’m supposed to be your ‘moon’.”

Marinette swore she felt her eye twitch. Was he being smug about it now?

“Yes, it would seem that way.. If I might ask, what prompted you to dress that way this evening?”

Felix glanced over his outfit thoughtfully, before giving her a little shrug. “Nothing in particular, I suppose. I simply felt like it.”

Marinette bit her tongue to avoid scoffing. He simply felt like it? No one accidentally coordinates their outfit with a specifically crafted dress because they ‘feel like it’. That’s just preposterous!

“I would like to compliment your work, though. It is my understanding that you brought that dress to life yourself?”

“..I did.”

“It’s phenomenal craftsmanship. I’m afraid I’ve only heard of you in name alone, but the praise clearly wasn’t over-exaggerated-”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Did he just say that he’d only heard of her in name alone? Meaning he hadn’t seen any of her other designs yet?

“-I couldn’t imagine stitching that many stars onto a single garment.”

“I’m sorry,” She politely cut him off. Did he expect to get away with lying straight to her face? “But did you just say you’d heard of me in name alone?”

He nodded. “I’ve been rather busy as of late and haven’t had time to check with things in the fashion industry.”

“Then how do you explain your other outfits?”

A blank expression fell across Felix’s features. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your other outfits.” Marinette repeated, almost through gritted teeth. “I have proof that you’ve been blatantly plagiarizing my designs for the past two years. How do you explain that if you supposedly haven’t seen any of my work until now.”

Felix raised a brow, appearing to be genuinely confused. “Mademoiselle, I can assure you that I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

This time, Marinette did scoff. How could he not know what she was talking about? If it had been once or twice, Marinette could write it off, but consistently matching her designs for two years? That’s no accident. How else would he manage to-

“Oh, there they are!” A reporter gasped. “MDC and Felix Culpa have already found each other! The moon and stars circling around each other as always. I’ve never seen such a fashionable pair of soulmates!”

Marinette froze, and from the looks of it, Felix froze too.

Soulmates.. Color coordination.. Was that why Felix had been ‘plagiarizing’ her outfits all of this time? Was that why he claimed not to know anything about it even though it was glaringly obvious? Had she been obsessing over a mystery that had had a reasonable answer right in front of her face all along?

Her eyes trailed down to his suit, the suit that matched hers perfectly, and the realization that washed over her nearly caused her to face-palm.

He hadn’t been copying her designs.

He’d been copying her outfit specifically.

Because they were soulmates.

“..What was that you said about my plagiarizing your designs?” Felix asked after a moment.

Marinette let out a defeated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, I feel ridiculous now.”

A soft chuckle passed Felix’s lips, and she glanced up just in time to catch the spark of amusement dancing in his silver eyes. Gosh, this beautiful human being was supposed to be her soulmate now? How was she going to cope? How was she going to Alya, the person she’d been ranting to for a good year now, about this new development? Actually, did Alya know about this all along? She always did act strange when Marinette brought it up, with her sly smirks and mischievous smiles and-

Felix offered his arm to her. “I, personally, would love to hear about this ridiculousness if you don’t mind sharing.”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, a blush creeping onto her cheeks, but she took his arm with a huff despite it. “I guess I might as well tell you. We’re probably going to be spending a lot more time together after this, anyway.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Felix replied lightheartedly, shooting her a smirk that made her heart skip a beat.

Marinette glanced away to regain some composure, but failed miserably as she only felt herself blush harder. Darn Felix Culpa and his stupid, breathtaking face.

She absolutely loved it.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’m going to be working on is J for Daminette!)

#asks #felinette #Soulmate AUs

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

Text

Dress Code, Part 2

Link to Part 1, Part 3 (T rated), Part 3 (M rated)

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Some swearing, Jealous!Din, sexy dancing, touching

Summary: You continue to challenge Din about what you choose to wear. Pretty fluffy overall. Plans for a Part 3.

Word Count: ~4200

Author’s Note: I am not good at making up planet names so I will admit to totally stealing these. Eridani is the name of a real star and Alastria and Chantil are both from Star Trek. Also again a little hint of Ed Sheeran in the dancing scene.

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

“Are you serious? More snow?” Your voice is incredulous as you fly over the frosted winter landscape of the planet Alastria. It’s been two weeks since you won your wager against the Mandalorian and you haven’t had any opportunity to wear anything that he could consider even remotely revealing. First he took you to Hoth, and although you and the child had a great time playing in the snow, you spent the whole time covered in sweaters and a giant parka. You had laughed it off though, enjoying his cleverness at finding a way to circumvent your win. But then, he had dragged you to Eridani and Chantil each one colder than the next. Plus to add to his diabolical plan, he has purposely been keeping the Razor Crest’s internal temperature low in order to ‘save on fuel’ so you can’t even wear your lighter clothes on board. You’ve been so covered up you might as well be wearing your own suit of beskar.

You suppose it hasn’t been all that bad though, you begrudgingly admit to yourself. The three of you have been spending more time together as you’ve been traveling. Lately it seems like Din always finds a way to be around you and the child. In the past he’s preferred his pilot’s seat while flying even with the autopilot engaged, but now he seems to find little projects to do wherever you are. Like the evening you were cuddled up with the baby telling him various fairy tales and Din had sat near you both spending the whole time cleaning the same blaster. Or when you were baking cookies, and he had decided to reorganize some supplies that happened to be right next to where you were working. Finally, the other day he had even thrown off the pretense of being busy and joined in and helped you and the child build a blanket fort in the hull. As the baby napped on a pile of pillows inside the fort, Din had stayed with you in there, just resting for once while you both had the chance.

With all of this closeness, you had hoped there might be some movement on the romantic front between the two of you, but there hasn’t been anything definitive in that area. You must have replayed him calling you ‘sweetheart’ a million times in your head, but he hasn’t said anything like that again. You’ve tried to show him how interested you are, wearing your necklace everyday so he can see it, smiling at him as much as possible, teasing him, and going so far as to touch him with little brushes of your hand, a pat on the shoulder, or even a squeeze of his arm whenever you get the opportunity. He seems receptive enough to your flirting, yet he’s given you so little response you wonder if he’s realized what you’re trying to do.

The Mandalorian’s voice brings you out of your musing, “I thought we could visit my old mentor, Davi. His town might be in the mountains, but it’s nice, I think you’ll like it, despite the cold.” He smirks a little under his helmet. He knows he should probably feel a bit guilty at the tour of icy worlds he’s been giving you, but honestly, he’s been enjoying getting under your skin each time you land on another freezing planet and he hears you sigh over having to bundle up again. He should probably admit to himself that he does miss seeing your dresses, but you look cute even under all those layers. Plus he was right, your necklace looks good with all of those sweaters and heavy knits you’ve been forced to wear.

“Who is Davi?” you ask, curious to know more about Din’s past.

“He sponsored me when I first joined the guild. I was his apprentice for two years before I starting hunting my own bounties.” Din tells you. “He’s retired now, and he lives with his niece, Isa. I think you’ll like them both.”

Even with the snow and ice, you can see that Davi and Isa’s town is charming, and you enjoy the quaint buildings with their pretty trim. It reminds you of the gingerbread houses you used to make as a child in the winter. The majestic mountains make for a stunning backdrop too and you are glad that Din brought you here. He notices the happy light in your eyes as he says, “I knew you’d like it here,” rather smugly.

“Yes, yes, you know everything,” you reply, rolling your eyes only slightly at him.

You arrive at a brightly lit home that oozes warmth and coziness from its frosty windows, and when Davi throws open the door, you receive a cordial welcome that makes you feel like he is your old friend too. Davi is thrilled to see Din and even more delighted to meet you and the baby. Even though Din has introduced you as his friend, Davi teases the Mandalorian about finally meeting his lovely family. Davi’s niece, Isa is also quite pleased to meet you and she even hugs you in greeting. She’s a pretty young woman in her early 20s with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she tells you excitedly, “I thought I was in for another ‘guy’s visit’ having to hear all of their old hunting tales again.”

“Oh come on, Isa, you love that story about the crazy Gungan we had to chase through the swamp,” Davi reminds her with a laugh.

“Sure, maybe the first 100 times I heard it,” Isa retorts. “I’m looking forward to some quality girl time instead.”

“That sounds great,” you tell her. You have been living in a heavily testosterone-laden climate and it has been forever since you’ve had the opportunity to hang out with another woman and just do ‘girl’ things. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’d love to go shopping and maybe get our hair styled too?” She suggests, “There’s this great party tonight and I wanna look fabulous!”

“Count me in!” you reply enthusiastically. You look over at Din for a moment though, hoping he’s not going to insist that he needs to accompany you shopping like he usually does. But he’s obviously comfortable here and he just gives you a small nod. “Let’s go now.”

Isa notices your exchange with interest, but doesn’t say anything, yet. She can’t wait to get you alone though and grill you all about your relationship with the mysterious warrior. You head back out into the snowy streets with Isa chatting excitedly about the shops and the fantastic salon that she’ll be taking you to. You arrive at a store with many party dresses, they’re beautiful but most of them are a bit risqué too. You’re just starting to look when Isa interrupts you with “Ok, spill, I want to hear all about you and Mando.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m the nanny to his foundling.” You try to tell her, but your cheeks flush and she knows there’s more.

“Oh c’mon, I can tell you’re not ‘just-the-nanny’,” she laughs lightly. “He’s never ever brought a woman to meet Davi before.”

“Well, a few weeks ago I thought there was more starting to happen between the two of us,” you say and then tell her about the necklace and your silly wager. “I really thought that was leading to something…” you trail off and shrug, “but I guess not?”

“What?!? There is definitely something happening,” Isa asserts. “That was super romantic of him to buy you that necklace, and he clearly gets jealous of other men paying attention to you. He likes you.” She says it like it’s a fact. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Maker, I do, so much, probably too much,” you admit to Isa. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I know he seems rough and dangerous, and he can be, but he is also very kind, respectful, and considerate. You should see how gentle and soft he can be with the child. I don’t even care that I’ve never seen his face.”

“Your whole face lights up when you talk about him,” Isa is beaming at you. “I think you need to tell him how much you care.”

“But if he doesn’t feel the same way, it will just make everything awkward and weird.” You want to believe Isa, that Mando reciprocates your feelings, but the alternative scares you too much.

“He feels the same way.” She is confident about that. “But, maybe you could just give him a little push, feel him out more,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Let’s find you a killer dress and make sure he takes you to this party tonight.” Isa turns back to the dresses pulling out several that are very sexy. “It’s in the hot springs caverns and it’s warm and steamy in there all the time,” Isa explains.

“Wait, so no bundling up?” you ask hopefully.

“Just for the walk there, but once we’re inside you’ll be plenty warm. So, we’re going find you something that shows plenty of skin,” Isa declares.

Gathering a pile of garments, Isa pulls you to the dressing rooms and then you both try on several looks that range from seductive to downright lascivious. She is partial to an electric blue dress that is tight on her figure and has several cutouts exposing various sections of her skin. The dress you find is surprise, surprise, silver, in a halter style. The bodice is tight fitting with a deep vee that ends just at the top of your stomach before flaring out into a flirty mini skirt looking like molten metal is pouring off of your hips. Your back is almost totally bare save for two delicate straps that cross over one another to hold the bodice in place. It is a lot more skin than you normally show, but you have to admit you look great. Light winks off of your necklace and you smile to yourself thinking about how your Mandalorian might react to seeing you like this.

“That’s the one!” Isa announces handing you a pair of strappy stilettos to try on with the dress. They are the perfect final touch. The rest of your time with Isa passes quickly in a happy haze of hair styling and gossip. She tells you about her friends and the guy she wants to impress. You’re really looking forward to tonight, but you’re worried, “How are we going to convince Mando to go to this party?” you wonder to Isa, “It’s not really his thing.”

“Leave everything to me.” Isa sounds like she is up for the challenge.

You and Isa return to her home giggling cheerfully about your big plans for the evening. Din loves seeing you so happy, his only regret is that you can’t have more days like this one. He had a long talk with Davi about all that has happened since he first found the child and the dangerous path it has thrust all three of you on. Fortunately for Din, his old mentor is more tactful than his niece merely providing a friendly ear as Din lists all of his concerns for your life with him. Davi can tell that Din cares for you more than he is admitting, but he doesn’t push the point. Instead, he calmly suggests that you appear to be able to meet the trials of living with a bounty hunter, otherwise you probably would have left by now. Din nodded in agreement to that, making Davi smile knowingly to himself.

As you sit down to dinner with everyone, Isa chats animatedly about your fun day together and suggests that you prolong your visit by a few days. Din, who ate his own meal in private beforehand, seems amenable to the idea, this town is fairly remote and only Greef Karga remembers Mando’s connection to Davi. As Isa talks, she manages to casually bring up the party to her uncle. Din is only half-listening as he is focused on the baby actually eating his food and not playing with it, until Isa says, “And you don’t have to worry about our safety, Uncle, because Mando will be there to watch over us!”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Din’s head snaps up.

“I think it’s a great idea!” Davi replies, delighted, “The ladies are all excited for you to take them to that party in the caverns tonight.”

“A party?” Din sounds like you are going to drag him to a deadly ambush. Except he feels more confident that he can handle the deadly ambush.

“Oh come on, you’re still a young man, you’ll have a wonderful time with these beautiful women. And I can take care of the little one,” Davi urges him, “after all he loves his Uncle Davi.” Davi tickles the child under the chin and receives a joyful coo in return.

“Please, Mando,” you give him your most hopeful look, “I promise we’ll have fun.”

Din sighs, but he knows he can’t say no when you’re looking at him like that, he’s not made of stone. “Alright.”

“Great! We’ll go get dressed!” Isa springs into action pulling you with her. You both manage to get ready in record time knowing that you don’t want to give Din any opportunity to back out on your plans. Before you leave her room though, both you and Isa make sure your cloaks are completely covering your outfits for the night. You caution Isa that if Din has even one inkling of what you have on, you won’t be going anywhere. You are thankful your cloak is so long that only the toes of your shoes peek out.

Isa leads you out of town towards the caverns and you see other young people heading in your direction. She discreetly stays ahead of you and Din the whole time under the guise of being the leader but mostly so you two are walking side by side. The new shoes are higher than anything you’ve worn for a while so you lean in and take Din’s arm. He seems to take this as perfectly natural and helps steady you on your feet. When you arrive at the caverns, balmy air hits you and you breathe it in welcoming the warmth. Isa ushers you in and leads you to a place where you can leave your cloaks. You can’t resist being a bit dramatic now that your big moment is here and you let your cloak drop from your shoulders in one fluid motion before handing it over. Then you do a small twirl to let the Mandalorian get a good look at you.

Din’s mouth goes completely dry and he feels like his heart skips several beats as he takes you in. He is thankful that his helmet hides his expression because there is no way he could hide the raw desire he is feeling right now. You look more gorgeous than he could have imagined. The silvery dress makes your curves sparkle alluringly and all he can think about is running his hands all over the silky looking material and then moving on to all of your soft exposed skin. Plus the color of the dress perfectly matches his armor, making it look like you belong with him. He feels as if all of the blood in his body is rushing to one sensitive spot and it’s making him slightly lightheaded. You are smiling at him expectantly, but he has forgotten how to speak. He has to clear his throat twice before he can ground out, “What is that?”

Ok, that wasn’t what you expected him to say. “It’s my new dress,” you retort, a little exasperated.

“That is not a dress. That is pieces of fabric pretending to be a dress.” He sounds frustrated and like he is trying to control himself.

“Hey, you remember our deal, you can’t say anything critical about my clothing.” You give him a pointed look.

“You look like walking sex.” He hisses at you.

“Well, I am going to take that as a compliment.” You flip your hair over your shoulder and huff off in the direction of Isa and a group of friends she has found. If Mando wants to be a fuddy-duddy all night, you’re going to let him. Isa is fun and you’re sure her friends will be too. You put your smile back on and square your shoulders in determination as you stride over towards them.

The caverns have been lit with several colorful lights which bounce off of the icy walls and the pools of hot steaming water. There’s a band playing music with a strong beat, a lively dance floor, and several servers circulating with fancy drinks. Isa cheerfully introduces you to her friends, one of whom is a handsome man with golden brown hair and a charming smile, named Guy. He seems to be a bit of a scoundrel, but when he voices how beautiful you are, you can’t help but be flattered. He’s telling you about his job as a pilot for a transport ship, trying to impress you with tales about near misses with ex-Imperials, when he notices the Mandalorian who is not-so-subtly invading your personal space.

Din had watched you walk away, a bit mesmerized by your swinging hips. Of course, by the time he gets his feet moving in your direction, some asshole is already flirting with you. He sees the man flash you a toothy smile and he even has the audacity to lean in and pick up your necklace, Din’s necklace, under the guise of admiring it, all the while staring blatantly at your breasts. Din hears his pulse roaring in his ears as he comes to loom over you and glare at this jerk.

“Hi, Mando,” you say a little sarcasm in your voice at the greeting, “meet Isa’s friend, Guy.”

“Guy?” Mando drawls out incredulously.

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Guy is affable. “Didn’t catch your name?”

Mando just stares at him and then says, “Seriously, your name is Guy?”

“Guy was just telling me about making the Kuiper run in under 20 parsecs,” you break into the frosty exchange.

“Impossible,” is all Mando says drily.

“No, really,” Guy insists, “I managed to do it by skimming by a black hole.”

“It’s impossible,” Mando says again.

“Maybe you and Guy can trade piloting tips?” you say, adding a small chuckle to ease the tension.

“Not fucking interested.” Mando is being downright rude to him. You’ve never known him to act this way to someone who wasn’t a threat. Luckily, Isa comes to your rescue as she brings her friend Lisbeth over to meet Mando. He seems to come back to himself a bit and is polite as he greets Isa’s friend.

“Are you two together?” Guy questions you nodding his head in Din’s direction.

“Not like that,” you reply, “we’re just friends.” But you say it as if you don’t really believe it.

“You sure?” Guy smiles shrewdly at you.

“Well, he’s never said otherwise,” you conclude with a small shrug.

“In that case, how would you like to dance with me?” Guy holds out his hand to you and gives you a wink. You can’t help but glance back at Mando for a moment, but then turn your gaze back to Guy and say yes. You don’t imagine that Din will ask you to dance anyway as he seems determined to be a grump tonight, plus you’re pretty certain he doesn’t know how to dance.

Guy leads you to the crowded floor and you begin moving to the beat of the heart-pumping music. At first you’re just dancing next to Guy but then he starts closing the distance between you two and eventually puts his hands on your hips. He pulls you in a little closer to him but then suddenly he’s gone, being shoved away roughly by a beskar-clad arm.

“If you’re going to dance, you’re going to dance with me.” Mando tells you possessively. His hands replacing Guy’s on your hips, pulling you in close to him.

“Mando!” you squeak out in surprise at his abrupt appearance. “Is he ok?” You turn your head to look for Guy, embarrassed that Din has so rudely dismissed him.

“I don’t give a damn,” Din tells you as he reaches up and turns your chin so that you are looking back at him. Ironically, the lead singer of the band is belting out a warning to a woman not to fuck with his love. You face flushes as you look into the black visor of the helmet.

“I- I didn’t think you’d want to dance,” you stammer out, stunned by his actions.

“You didn’t give me a chance to ask you,” he replies and he begins to direct your hips to sway with his to the music. You move with him in a sultry pattern. You were wrong, Din does know how to dance. You move your arms up to encircle his neck as you let yourself relax into the movements, your bodies syncing together with the beat.

As the music changes a bit, he turns you in his arms and pulls you against him until you are flush with his body. You lean into his chest feeling the cool metal of his cuirass against your bare back and he dips his head down to your ear, and says “I like dancing with you.” His voice seems huskier than normal.

“I do too,” you tell him in reply. You’re feeling bolder now and you roll your hips over his and brush against something hard that is definitely not beskar. He groans deeply and then turns you around again so he can look in your eyes as he asks, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“I think I have some idea,” you say flirtatiously and give him a wink. He pulls you back into him with a growl and guides your body into a move so sensual it makes your head spin. His hands are on your bare back now and even though it’s only the leather of his gloves that touch you, the heat coming off of them is undeniable. You can’t resist telling him, “Your hands feel good on me.” He doesn’t say anything in reply but merely tightens his grip on you and then lets his hands explore more of your back.

You lose track of time as you focus only on the Mandalorian and the way you move together. You’ve both become quieter the more you dance as if you no longer can handle verbally teasing each other and just want to feel. Each song blends into the next, and it’s like you are the only two people in the room. A sonic charge could go off and you wouldn’t even notice. When the lights flicker to signal the end of the party, you’re surprised. It takes you a moment to come back to reality, you feel like you’ve just awoken from the middle of an intoxicating dream and your head is a little dizzy. Fortunately, Din seems more in control, and he guides you towards Isa and the exit. Isa! You completely forgot about her. When you reach her, she gives you a sneaky smile and hands you your cloak. As you take it from her, she leans in and whispers, “I told you so.” Din takes the cloak from your hands and places it around your shoulders covering you back up against the cold. Then he takes your hand in his and threads his fingers through yours as he leads you back out into the dark night. All three of you are quiet as you walk back to Isa’s home. When you arrive, Din tells Isa, “We won’t come in, we’ll just let the child sleep here and come back in the morning.”

“Not too early,” Isa says rather cheekily, “I’m sure you’ll need your rest.”

As you head back to the ship with Din, your stomach flips at the idea of being alone with him all night. You shiver a little in anticipation.

“Are you cold?” he asks, noticing the shiver.

“Only a little,” you tell him, not wanting to give away the real reason.

“Maybe you should be wearing more clothing,” Din says, but there is a teasing tone to his voice now.

You reach the ship and head inside. It’s a little chilly in there but not as bad as you thought it might be. You whisk your cloak off of you again, headless of the cold, wanting Din to see you in the dress again.

“I’ll make you a new deal,” he says, his helmet moving up and down as if he is looking you over. “I’ll take you to some warmer planets and I won’t complain about your clothing, but only if you promise to never wear that dress in public again.”

The dress has served its purpose, better than you could have anticipated. “Alright, it’s a deal,” you tell him with a smile.

“Although,” Din drawls out, “if you want to wear it again when we’re alone together, I’d like that.”

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Thank you for reading! I promise there will be a Part 3 (if I can, I’ll do one T rated and one M rated). Please let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

@sleepwithacommunist @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @rueblogsthings @mackycat11 @tv-zepeda @remmyswritings @dee-rosemary @boomtownboy @mandosboobiez @hoodjarin @haley7242

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

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The morning and evening star | Johnny Suh (TEASER)

Johnny Suh x female!Reader

▸ Fluff, too much smut, angst, prince of Egypt AU, slave reader ▸ Part of NCT Historical AU Collaboration hosted by @puppywritings ▸ In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh is referred as “Morning and Evening Star”

Summary: Fighting the battles for his kingdom and for his ill father, Johnny, a prince of Egypt was given a beautiful gift the night before a great war starts. The given gift, which is you, gave the prince a very hard time but soon your heart softened the moment you allow yourself to get to know him. As you both fall in love sooner than expected, you thought that Johnny will give you your freedom but he can’t because that means letting you go. Johnny treated you as a gold and you became his most precious jewel. He kept you inside the palace, gave you a place to paint on and kept you in his life for as long as he can. Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, its a Johnny fic what do you expect?, mentions of slavery (if that bothers you, please click away), mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of sadness, self doubt, possessiveness, unprotected sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), degradation, rough sex, slight exhibitionism, fingering, mentions of bruises, spitting. Mentions of other idols, and Johnny’s parents. A/N: Pure fiction. Inspired by my favorite movies that I grew up watching with my family during family movie nights.. haha. (Troy, prince of Egypt, Exodus: Gods and kings, Tangled) I have a great feeling that this will become one of my favorite works of mine wahuu.

Taglist? sure.

Release date: April first week. Or sooner.

“I can already feel the weight of my father’s crown mother, what should I do?” Johnny asks his mother as they accompany each other to the royal banquet.

“Only if you forgive me from what I did”

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writeblrfantasy · 4 years ago

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here it is!

my pride and joy, the piece that has completely hijacked my brain and my life for the past 24 hours. this is the prologue, some might say, to TDOSA, featuring the vibes of an endless, sunny summer, the sense of floating through time and space, and a lot of lesbian yearning and projection, i present: the summer of seret ashling.

cw implied sex, blood

word count around 6300

one time tags of interest @ashen-crest @ettawritesnstudies

tdosa taglist (lmk to be added/removed) magic-is-something-we-create @hysteriwah @imjustalonesomewriteblr @a-forgotten-dusk @bronwennjames @metanoiamorii

Lysandra Fleming’s summer begins like this: a lonely night in Briar Bar, sipping a warm mug of cherry syrup. Not because she is cold—the heat in Vashiri Valley does not begin with summer, nor does it end there. Cherry syrup is vile and bitter and sweet at the same time, made worse warm, but the smooth way it goes down reminds her of childhood, the strange days when she actually liked this stuff.

Not home. She has not had a home since she was a child, when the supposed charm of the palace still worked on her. What were once silky ribbons in her hair became the invisible chains and rules of her parents, tying her down.

Lysandra, you can’t do this, it will reflect badly on us, or Lysandra, you can’t speak to that person, can’t smile at them, can’t see them, don’t you know what they did ten years ago? Don’t you know who their parents are? Vashiri Valley is struggling for power enough without you mucking it up.

Lysandra stopped smiling altogether.

Now, she comes to Briar Bar to be left alone with her cherry syrup, to melt into the crowd, to be normal, for once. Instead, others smile at her the way her parents always encouraged she smile, fake, polite enough, with an ulterior gleam in their eye. So many eyes watch her in want, but she does not feel seen at all by any of them.

The room’s quiet conversation dims and dissolves into whispers, prompting Lysandra to glance over at the reason. The reason is facing away from Lysandra, wearing a tall black hat and a black suit that nearly blends into the darkness of the walls, if not for the white shirt the woman is wearing underneath.

Lysandra didn’t see her come in, and all eyes turn to the tall, dark stranger, wondering the same thing. Her companions across the room point her in Lysandra’s direction, who braces for another meaningless smile, another delighted to meet you, Highness.

The woman turns, and Lysandra sees brown skin, black hair falling in long, loose curls, a subtle, close mouthed smile that draws her attention instantly. Brown eyes meet Lysandra’s green.

“Seret Ashling, my princess.” Seret Ashling leans down, never breaking eye contact, and kisses the top of Lysandra’s hand, holding her fingers delicately, but not like she’s glass. She treats Lysandra like she knows, instantly, her boundaries, how far she can safely push, what Lysandra can take—which is a lot more than most people guess.

Already, Lysandra likes her.

Lysandra is not her princess. She knows the name of every person in this valley, and she knows she’s never even seen Seret before. Even the name is foreign to her. Seh-reht.

That makes it all the better.

She moves her stool a little farther from the empty one beside her, raising an eyebrow in an invitation Seret accepts, removing her hat and tucking it under her arm to smoothly mount the stool. Seret sits with a straight back but ankles curled around the legs of the stool, adding enough humanity to her presence to make Lysandra smile.

She does not prop her elbow on the table, she does not order anything, but she does stare at Lysandra like she’s the most interesting person in the room. Lysandra can tell, somehow, that this gaze is genuine, not hastily crafted and practiced to impress her.

She offers to buy Lysandra another mug of cherry syrup, and Lysandra lets her.

***

Everywhere Lysandra goes, Seret seems to find her. She’s the talk of the valley, enrapturing them with her tall, dark, handsome aura, her small smile, the way the sun shines off her hair.

Finally Seret takes the leap and asks her out to places in Vashiri City Lysandra has been a thousand times, but somehow Seret’s presence paints color to her world again instead of the dull greens and golds the valley has become.

Their connection is instant, from Briar Bar to the lane of potion shops to the muffled awe in Seret’s face when she sees the Academy. At some point, Seret takes Lysandra’s hand, and they stroll through the town like they are not a princess and the new obsession of Vashiri Valley.

Everyone has been asking Seret about herself, where she’s from, what family she has, but she slips out of answering like a snake from a trap. Her smile is quite persuasive. Lysandra doesn’t even try to pry the answer out of her, though she might be the one person to succeed. Seret still looks at her every time like she’s the sun and the moon and the stars.

Lysandra’s heart thrums with nerves every hour before their dates, afraid of messing things up and driving Seret away, but the moment Seret enters the room, her heart calms. Seret gives her a warm hug that envelopes her whole soul, tells her she missed her dearly, and Lysandra wonders why she was ever worried. Seret seems impossible to offend.

“I am going to buy you a gift,” Seret announces on one of their dates in town, in a tone which makes it clear this is non-negotiable. Lysandra only nods. Seret pauses between two shops, one being the most popular jewelry store in the city with a line out the door, the one across the street being an adorable but little known competitor.

Lysandra waits for Seret to get in line for the popular jewelry store, but instead the woman lingers in front of the door of the other shop before opening it. “Don’t peek,” she says with a little smile, shutting the door and triggering the little bell. Lysandra stands there gawking like a fool until Seret emerges ten minutes later holding a little square box.

When Lysandra opens it with trembling hands, she finds a little heart shaped necklace, gold with a silver center on a golden chain. The gold probably isn’t real, probably just paint, but the pink paper wrapping the necklace and the little thank you card inside the box make her smile when the shop across the street wouldn’t.

The plain red and blue shelves in the windows of the other shop, where her family’s jeweler gets his jewels, have nothing on the soft pinks, greens, and browns of the cheap shop owned by twins. They keep flowers in their windows, pink carnations, and prices written in loopy court script.

“Do you like it?” Seret asks nervously, and Lysandra realizes she hasn’t said a word.

“I love it. Thank you.” She offers it up to Seret to clasp around her neck. Seret’s warm fingertips brush the back of her neck, and shivers run down Lysandra’s spine. This is special, her heart keeps telling her, like she doesn’t already know. This is different.

“How did you know?” Lysandra asks.

“Know what?”

“That I’d like this better than the shop across the street.”

“You’re a princess, you’re used to expensive jewelry, and you’ve publicly and loudly denounced royal life. Also, I’d rather give my money to them, seems like they actually need it. Don’t you agree?”

Lysandra has to take a deep breath to keep from blurting out something stupid. “Yes. I agree.”

Their first kiss a day later is a ray of light and a shadow of darkness, colliding and exploding in a glorious show of white and black, settling as ashes and debris into serene, calm gray. They are not the sun and moon. Lysandra is too sharp to be the sun, Seret too dim to be the moon.

It is the death of something. The birth. Lysandra can’t define what.

***

When Lysandra asks, Seret says she came to Vashiri Valley to visit and experience its delights, after which she meets Lysandra’s eyes and kisses her hands.

Lysandra hangs around the city apartment Seret rents. It’s close to Wynn’s cabin where she sleeps. She hasn’t slept in the palace in months. The layers of security and scrutiny she has to pass to enter are not worth the temporary comfort of a soft bed and her favorite meals.

She’s sleeping beside Seret before long, unable to bear being apart from her for that long, wondering how she behaves during such a precious time. Seret’s arms are even warmer around her under cool sheets, and in the morning, Seret brings her coffee before disappearing behind a white door.

She reappears in a cloud of steam, smelling like sweet flowers and honeysuckle. Lysandra gets to kiss her good morning and wonder how she got so lucky.

They’re invited to plays, the nights at the bars for amateur bards, the travelling witches who perform at the amphitheater. Lysandra has been to every event in this valley at least once, usually at the request of her family, but Seret loves going. Like the city and the shops and the Academy, experiencing Seret’s joy secondhand is intoxicating.

Everywhere they go, every table they sit at, whether it’s the theater or the bar or a café for a simple breakfast, people are fawning over Seret. The entire valley is enamored with Lysandra’s new lover.

Seret seems to find it amusing, the way they pat her arm and show a comical amount of interest in everything she has to say, just waiting for an opportunity to ask questions that they must know will go unanswered.

Lysandra sits quietly, burning from the way Seret entertains them, smiles at them in her private way. She wants Seret all to herself. She’s used to sharing things with the public, she’s had to share herself her whole life, but Seret is different. Lysandra doesn’t care if it’s selfish, Seret is hers.

When everyone finally seems like they’ve gotten their fill of Vashiri’s new inhabitant, Lysandra takes her to the edge of the forest and the dead tall grass fields beside it. She gets to watch the exact moment Seret falls in love.

Seret has never grinned, never raised her voice louder than a murmur, but her hitch of breath and the way she reaches for Lysandra’s hand is all she needs. Pride blooms in Lysandra’s chest at the realization she’s learned Seret’s little tells like that.

“It’s just a field,” she laughs. She’s laughing more, now, thanks to Seret. Stoic, cynical, unpleasant Princess Lysandra, laughing. This is why she hasn’t let Arlin near Seret yet, she’d never hear the end of it.

“No, it’s not,” Seret breathes, radiating darkness and mystery in a way that is curious, enticing, instead of harmful. Lysandra just wants to follow her into the shadows where no others can see them, hurt them, touch them. “Can’t you see?”

Lysandra strains her neck, but it’s not the fact that Seret is taller than her that’s the problem. “No.”

Seret pulls her along and begins running instead of answering. Lysandra yelps in surprise and stumbles along, staring enviously at Seret’s long legs—long legs, long arms, long face, long fingers, everything about Seret is long. She sweeps Lysandra up in her arms and spins her around, feet in the air, Seret’s strong arms keeping her up.

Seret is grinning for the first time, showing perfect white teeth, her joy the only reason Lysandra doesn’t scream in shock. She trusts Seret utterly, she realizes in a paralyzing moment of clarity, the sun warming her back, the wind blowing through her hair. Seret has never given her a reason not to.

“What’s the matter with you?” Lysandra asks, though she can’t keep the joy out of her own voice. Seret is infectious. Anything she feels reflects on Lysandra.

“We had fields exactly like this in the city where I grew up. I can’t believe I haven’t seen these yet.” She finally sets Lysandra down and immediately kisses her, as has become a habit the last week. Lysandra gives in, gives over entirely.

She has twisted and forced a key into the lock of her heart, but now, she hands the broken key to Seret and wishes her lucky trying to fit it in the rusty, damaged old lock. Lysandra knows she’ll unlock it fast, her eyebrows pinched and frowning in concentration, long fingers working quickly.

She doesn’t tell her that, of course.

Even then, Lysandra knew.

***

They find a cabin at the edge of the fields and the forest which they quickly move into, abandoning Arlin and the boys and Lysandra's family and Vashiri Valley for themselves. Lysandra has no remorse.

Seret shows her how to live in darkness, in quiet, in peace. They prepare coffee in the mornings before the sun floods the fields with light, arms brushing and using only using their sleepy voices when they need to, not wanting to disturb the holy peace of the morning.

They bathe in the evenings indoors where the fading sun doesn’t reach, sitting close in a tub of river water that Lysandra heats.

They spend all day laying on their backs in the fields, one of them lying on the other while someone’s hair is stroked and someone speaks over the wind.

When the afternoon heat turns the sunlight from pleasantly warm to scorching, they move to the shade of the big oak tree near their cabin to eat.

The shadows are their friends in this haven, where no one and nothing else exists but them. Seret trusts them like they trust each other, content to close her eyes and lay her head back against the trunk when she’s done eating.

Lysandra loves the warmth of the sun, but she hates the harsh white spotlight of her family, the prickly rules tying her down, the sense that she can’t ever escape their restraining eyes. She can hide in the darkness from Seret. They’ll never catch her.

Lysandra has never been so invincible, light enough to be picked up on a cloud every time the wind blows. Seret is the only magical thing she’s met that doesn’t have a drop of magic within her.

Seret is ineffable. Unknowable. Larger than life. Lysandra can never hope to understand her fully, but she can try, she can watch and observe, attempt to learn the inner workings of Seret’s mind.

“Seret?” Lysandra asks one afternoon just like every other, where the peace and warmth of their retreat cannot be broken. “Where are you from?”

It is the first time she has asked. She holds her breath, waiting for Seret’s answer, which takes a long time to come. Seret chews on her lip, her expression as guarded as always, until she finally smiles. “Wherever you want me to be from. North, south, east, west, I’ve visited them all. Pick one and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Lysandra’s chest opens to swallow an ache of emptiness. “Maybe later.” It’s not what she wanted, and they both know it. Lysandra inches mere breaths away from Seret’s side, but it won’t go unnoticed. She thought Seret might actually tell her. She rubs the small gold heart between her fingers and sighs.

“Hey,” Seret says, turning Lysandra’s chin towards her. “It’s not because I don’t trust you, because I do. I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone, more than you know.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?” Need, embarrassing and whiny, sneaks into Lysandra’s voice, but she ignores it. She’s entitled to this answer, at least.

“I don’t want to shatter your world.” Seret sighs and shifts to take Lysandra’s hands in both of hers. “I am from the south. I ran away from home at a young age to travel because my upbringing was hell, and I’ve never stopped since.”

Lysandra breathes out.

“None of that changes how I feel about you,” Seret continues, pleading, the most passionate Lysandra has ever heard her. “I have never met anyone like you, even with everywhere I’ve been. I do not want anyone but you.”

No one has ever said anything like that to Lysandra, and hearing it now gives her pause. The way Seret’s eyes burn on her skin with their dark intensity is exquisite. Lysandra will never get used to it. She does not want to.

“I would not want this with anyone else.” It does not mean the same thing, but Seret smiles, close mouthed, anyway. At times like this, Seret’s secretive nature makes Lysandra’s blood boil, unvoiced screams rise in her throat. She has given so much of herself already, why can Lysandra not know of her past, her family, her ugliest emotions?

She never wants Seret to treat her like glass. The first day they met, Seret got it right. Lysandra can’t bear the thought that Seret is any less perfect than she thinks, that would shatter her, not knowledge of the world beyond the valley.

Lysandra has gotten all she will today. She is content to sigh deeply and lay her head on Seret’s arm. Seret will stroke Lysandra’s hair, and the wind will ruffle her own, and Lysandra’s urge to push it back will fight the warmth settling into her bones. They are fine. They will be fine. Nothing more.

***

On lucky occasions, Seret shares stories of her travels from who knows when, who knows where. She has been everywhere, she said, and Lysandra believes her. She asks about the north, the far east, the west, and Seret’s homeland, the south.

The south could mean any number of things. Lysandra has never been out of Vashiri Valley, and her family have always been vague about what lies beyond their mountains, but Seret describes an actual ocean, the cold water wrapping around her ankles, the hot sand burning her feet.

She takes Lysandra to a desert in her mind, great, sprawling cities, icy lakes and snowy mountains to the north. To the east, she says, more ocean with great brown ships. Lysandra doesn’t care if she’s lying.

She lays in the grass on her side and lets the wind blow her skirts while she travels the world in her mind. Seret closes her eyes and traces mountains, rivers, canyons on her spine, unconsciously pointing in those directions. Lysandra’s breath catches in her throat.

Seret opens her eyes briefly to ask, “Am I boring you?”

Never. You couldn’t if you tried.

Lysandra shakes her head. Seret’s slow, easy smile returns, and the warm fingers on the skin revealed by her backless dress whisk her away to a thousand new worlds so big she can’t even imagine them.

***

“Does it ever bother you that I’m a princess?”

Seret smiles. “That isn’t something that would bother most people in my position.”

“I’d disagree. As the lover of a princess, you have no privacy, there’s expectations, rules you have to follow, harassment…I suppose a better word would be faze. You met and introduced yourself and spoke to me as if I were normal.”

“I called you my princess. the day we met.”

At Lysandra’s withering look, Seret chuckles. “Who said you aren’t normal? You didn’t have any control over what family you were born into. I would still feel the same if you hadn’t rejected your family and your role, if you were princess first and person second. It would be a bit harder to get to you, though, in that stronghold. To me, in that bar, you were just the prettiest girl in the nicest dress with the most captivating eyes. They told me you were a princess—so what? I love you anyway.”

Lysandra’s cheeks burn hot, and she chokes on saliva. The wind picks up, and she feels like she’s falling. How can Seret just say things like that and expect Lysandra not to explode and melt into the sun? “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Seret smiles again. “I’m not looking to get anywhere. I’m not like those people at the bar when we met. I’m not trying to be like anyone. I’m not not trying to be like anyone. I’m not looking to impress you, honestly. I’m just being honest.”

Lysandra’s breath catches in her throat like a branch stuck in a river, unfazed by the powerful oncoming waves.

Seret is clearly not looking to hear it back, but Lysandra gathers all her courage and quietly says, “I love you, too. I--”

She shies away from Seret’s intense gaze, burning on the back of her neck. “I’m not good at, uh. Saying things like this. Like you. But I want you to know that you’ve changed my life. I don’t know how to thank you for all that you’ve done for me, given me. This place is nothing short of perfect. Every minute we’ve spent together has been nothing short of perfect. I’m sorry I haven’t given you anything back.”

“My dear, you are quite mistaken. You’ve given me the ultimate gift: yourself. The opportunity to know your heart, your mind. You’ve let me in when I can tell you have trouble doing so.”

She kisses the back of Lysandra’s hand, looking up at her through her eyelashes, as she often does. It still makes Lysandra’s entire being heat like the sun itself came down to lay its rays gently onto her, powerful but careful with her.

“You are my entire world,” says Seret, the sun. “The most precious creature in all the places I’ve visited, all the creatures in this valley alone.”

Lysandra smiles. “You haven’t met Wynn Scylla’s dragonlings.”

Deflect. Defend. Dismiss. Seret sees through it.

Lysandra lays their lips together, hoping to convey without the painful process of words said aloud just how much Seret makes her hurt. Seret makes her burn and ache in the best of ways, like a satisfying stretch after waking up from a stiff nap.

Seret challenges her to face things she loves shying away from, things like the swelling of her heart which she hasn’t felt in years. Seret is terrifying, all consuming, but Lysandra can’t imagine a world without her. Much of her allure comes from her mystery, however infuriating her secrecy is.

Hours later, when they’re full and sated from dinner, after they wash the dishes side by side at the river and after they’ve bathed in the tub in the house, Lysandra hears a faint hum, high and low, continuous, lulling and soft. She turns her head and discovers it’s Seret, humming to herself as she drapes the wet towels out to dry. “What’s that you’re humming?”

Seret pauses her sweet melody. “Hm? Oh, just some music from the east. If I had the proper instruments, I would play the tune.”

Lysandra chokes on air. “You can play music, too?”

Seret smiles. “I can do many things.”

“Oh?” Lysandra doesn’t know where her sudden burst of courage comes from. Perhaps she’s the one looking to get somewhere. She raises an eyebrow and crooks a finger, hoping a low tone will convey her point. “Come here and show me.”

Seret is quiet, face blank. Lysandra wonders, belatedly, if she does in fact have unknown boundaries.

When Seret desperately searches her eyes for consent, Lysandra realizes it was shock and not disgust that rendered her speechless. “You mean—” Seret asks, hoarse, never breaking eye contact. Lysandra shivers. She had that effect on her?

“Yes.”

They stare at each other for a long, silent moment, Seret’s hungry gaze fixed on Lysandra’s pale shoulders, the towel wrapped around her middle. Then they’re both moving at once, mouths moving in the same pattern of Seret’s melody, a symphony of hearts beating in time.

If Lysandra is Seret’s world, Seret is the center of Lysandra’s.

***

At long last, Lysandra’s family gets wind of Seret. Lysandra doesn’t want to know how. Maybe Wynn and Petrus spread it around by accident—she loves those boys, but they couldn’t keep a secret if they tried. Maybe it was Arlin, who Lysandra finally let meet Seret.

All she does know is that her family is demanding to meet their middle princess’s lover, which means they’ll clarify if they’re allowed to be together or not.

“I’m sorry,” Lysandra whimpers, on the edge of tears in Seret’s arms. “I don’t want them to touch us with a ten foot stick, but if we don’t go, they’ll send someone out here to find us and disrupt our world. I’m so sorry.” Something about her family interfering in her and Seret’s affairs makes Lysandra boil like nothing else.

“It’s okay, my princess,” Seret murmurs into her hair, cupping the back of her head, rocking them back and forth. “We’ll go, I’ll tell them what they want to know, we’ll come right back here. It will only be a few hours. Their opinion won’t change how I feel about you, but I’ll do whatever you feel is best.” The sorrow in Seret’s tone implies too much.

Lysandra pulls back. “Don’t you ever think I’d leave you for my family. Right now, I’m thinking much the opposite.”

Seret purses her lips. “What objection would they have to me? The whole valley seems to like me, why wouldn’t they?”

“You’re not a noble, you don’t have a title, you have nothing to offer them, you won’t even tell anyone where you’re from, and you’re the lover of their middle child.”

Her voice is bitter, matching her heart. Seret’s arms tighten protectively around her. Lysandra switches from bitterness to anger to guilt in a second. How dare her family do this to them? What makes them think they have this right?

They control Vashiri Valley, but Lysandra can’t remember the last time they appeared in public, and their power is distant at best.

They control Vashiri Valley, but they can’t control her.

“No matter what they say,” Lysandra says into Seret’s chest, “I am never leaving you. You’ll have to pry me away. Whatever polite, diplomatic accusations or insults they throw at you, ignore them. You don’t have to tell anyone, especially them, about yourself. You’re with me because I love you, and that’s all we care about. Okay?”

“I’m not sure I’m the one who needs reassuring, Lysandra.”

“Shut up. I’ll be fine.” She pulls back from warmth to wipe her eyes, hot shame from crying coating her face, but Seret pulls her back in.

“There’s no shame here,” she whispers, kissing Lysandra’s temple. “Comforting you is my pleasure, though I wish you didn’t have a reason to cry. Everything’s going to be okay, my princess.”

Lysandra breathes.

She wears the gown she wore when she and Seret met, soft pink with a low neckline, tiered ruffles reaching down to her ankles, frilly short sleeves. Maybe familiarity will give her some comfort, whether that’s Seret’s hand on her thigh or this dress pinching her arm.

Seret wears the same black slacks, white shirt, and black jacket she always wears, thoroughly combs her hair, but leaves the hat at home.

At the dinner, she is perfect. she speaks only when spoken to, sits with that straight, enviable posture, praises the food like it’s the substance of heaven itself, the best she’s ever had.

She’s gracious, thankful, answers every question they ask. If she had a title, Lysandra knows her family would be simply begging them to marry.

Things start out pleasant, her family treating Seret with the polite, arm’s length attitude Lysandra expected. Finally, the dreaded question comes.

“So, Seret,” Lysandra’s mother asks, folding her hands, “where are you from?”

Lysandra clutches her necklace, the one Seret gave her, and prays. Please don’t let them be the first ones you tell. They don’t deserve that.

Seret smiles. “This soup is delicious, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, thank you, you’ve said so already.” Her mother is reaching the end of her patience—Lysandra has been on the other end of that short patience dozens of times. Her blue feathered hat and perfect red lips cover up a much nastier woman. “Please tell us about where you live.”

“Well, Lysandra and I have been living next to the forest all summer. The fields there are positively peaceful, you should visit them sometime.” She pauses to let horror sink into the hearts of luxury groomed royals. Lysandra bites down on a smile. “But I am technically still renting an apartment in the city.”

“Where you came from,” Lysandra’s father adds, sharp, on the end of his patience as well. Lysandra wonders how much Seret prepared for this. Seret is smart, she must’ve known she couldn’t wiggle her way out of the question with her usual tricks. “Maybe who your parents are.”

Seret appears to consider the question. “I’d rather not say,” she says, stirring her drink with her spoon. Silence falls onto the room. Lysandra holds her breath.

Her mother nods her head tightly. “Very well. In that case, we’re going to have to insist you stop seeing our daughter.”

Seret bows her head in humble acceptance, but Lysandra stands up, every fiber of her being filling with inexplicable rage. She told herself she wouldn’t display a reaction, she would just accept the denial and then ignore it, like Seret will, but hearing it so frankly from her mother’s lips is different from imagining it.

“You don’t have the right to tell me who I can and can’t see just because you feel like it,” she spits. “I’m an adult. I haven’t lived here full time or done the duties you ask of me for years. You should disown me. Save yourselves the trouble of dealing with me any longer.”

Seret’s hand lands firmly on her knee as if to say no, don’t. Lysandra captures her hand and holds it above the table for the whole family to see.

“You’re the one who chose to come here,” Lysandra’s mother says.

“Yes, because I knew you’d hound us if we didn’t.” Lysandra can feel her chest being ripped open from the top down. Seret’s fingers squeezing hers is the only thing tethering her to herself. She pulls tightly on Seret’s fingers, who takes the hint and stands. They walk out without another word, without a glance back.

When they get back to the cabin, Lysandra sinks onto the couch in their living room face first, and immediately begins to cry. The seconds it takes for the door to click and Seret’s boots to march across the wood are far too long, until warm arms wrap around Lysandra’s back and Seret buries her nose in the back of her hair. “I’m so sorry,” she murmurs, which only makes Lysandra sob harder.

“I don’t know why it still matters. I knew this was exactly what they’d say. I didn’t want it to affect me. I want to move on from them.”

Seret stays quiet, just letting Lysandra exist and holding her through it. They don’t speak about it again.

Things are different after that. The fields and the cabin have been tainted with mere mention of the royal family’s presence. The spell has been broken.

The wind comes less, the sun seems to burn in a way it didn’t before. Lysandra doesn’t treasure dawn and dusk the way she used to, and baths are just baths. The only thing that hasn’t lost its magic is Seret, as kind and loving as always.

A week later, Seret begins taking trips into the city to gather everything from her apartment and bring it to the cabin, everything of Lysandra’s from Wynn’s cottage.

No matter how many times Lysandra offers to help, Seret insists she’s fine, she doesn’t want Lysandra to come into the city and get hounded and harassed by the usual people dying to meet the princess.

Arlin and the others come to visit a few times to keep her company while Seret’s gone, to speak about the upcoming Academy year, their last year, to learn the place Lysandra disappeared to the entire summer.

She’s happy to see them, happy for the company, but her heart never stops aching for Seret, wondering what she’s doing. Arlin and the boys stay for dinner well after Seret’s back, so she’s never given a moment alone to think.

This continues for a month.

Arlin and the boys become as intimately familiar with the cabin, the fields, the river, and the forest as Lysandra was with Wynn’s cottage on the forest’s other side.

Lysandra flies toward the end of summer in a haze, perpetually afraid to break the peace, shatter the dream, feel the cold seep into her bones once more. She has grown so used to the wind in her hair, the sun on her skin, the safety of Seret’s arms and her soothing voice.

Seret is never too loud, never jarring. Seret seems to float on the wind; sometimes her mind is lost to Lysandra as she stares into the sky at nothing.

Seret is—

Seret is many things. Nothing at all. Everything all at once.

Ineffable.

On what Seret says will be her last day of moving, she kisses Lysandra’s cheek and says, “I’ll be back,” like always. Lysandra thinks that’s rather silly—of course she’ll be back, that’s a given—but it’s sweet.

Arlin and the boys won’t be over since they have to collect their books for school in two weeks and otherwise prepare. Lysandra spends the day in the river, letting the water suck all the thoughts from her head.

By the evening, as Lysandra waits on the porch with dinner ready, Seret is still not back.

She probably got held up with the loading carts she’s been using, Lysandra tells herself as she gathers her shawl, puts on a dress fit for the town’s eyes, and begins the long walk there. She stopped to have dinner, or something. Maybe she met Wynn’s dragonlings at last.

Seret would’ve run back here herself to tell Lysandra she wouldn’t be back until later because of the dragonlings, or she would’ve sent a magical letter, or something. Seret has told her over and over how much she hates to see Lysandra in pain, and how she’ll never, ever be the cause of even the slightest worry.

Dread sits heavily in Lysandra’s chest.

The area near the school is in chaos, looking for her. No one she meets will tell her what’s going on, why they refuse to meet her eyes, why they offer faint smiles in place of explanations.

When Lysandra is shown the rooms in the Academy Seret broke into, the bizarre circles drawn on the floor in chalk, the thick books lying open, the blood splattered all over the floor, and finally, Seret’s body lying on the floor with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes closed, Lysandra falls to her knees and doesn’t get up.

Her entire being is shattered with a force she didn’t know existed, with waves of invisible pain too strong for this realm. Everything feels empty and quiet, but not quiet in the serene way of Seret’s.

She screams, and it rips her open. It rips every part of good out of her and replaces her with numb, muffled, faint feeling. Later the waves of pain will come back, the longing for Seret’s warm arms to wrap around her and make everything all better, but now, she’s able to look at the body with only thin trails of tears streaming down her face.

Seret’s white shirt is soaked through with a circle of bright red blood. The whole scene is almost unreal. If not for the blood and the cold feel of her hand, Lysandra’s Seret Ashling looks the same. Her hair is neatly arranged, her face free of the splattered blood.

Death is too simple a word for what happens to Seret.

She is gone, says a voice, Seret’s voice, her smiling face haunting Lysandra behind her closed eyes. The ghost of Seret’s fingers cup her jaw, stroke her cheekbones, brush soft lips over her forehead, push her spectacles up.

I love you, my princess, Lysandra hears when she touches her ear to the floor, soaking the front of her dress with her blood, such a cruel reminder of Seret’s humanity. She was brutally, unfortunately, unbelievably human. She may have reached beyond this realm to grab a fist of love for Lysandra, a greater capacity than any human could hold, but that couldn’t save her from her own humanity.

I’ll be back. Seret’s last words to her.

She wasn’t just going into town to move.

Lysandra clutches the necklace Seret gave her and squeezes until it hurts. It fits easily in her palm, hangs right over her heart. The death of Seret Ashling is going to hit Vashiri Valley like the rare storms, unforgiving and violent, bringing destruction that takes years to recover from.

Lysandra squeezes the necklace, closes her eyes, and breathes slowly, steadily. The storm will wipe her out faster and harder than anyone else, but she’s the one who has to control it singlehandedly, and that will be about as easy as trying to capture an actual storm from the ground.

She won’t survive this, but she’s known for months that if anything ever happened to Seret, she never would. She can only submit to the darkness—the bad kind, this time—awaiting her, return to reality behind this door.

#writing #writeblr #my wip #my writing #fantasy writing #fantasy writeblr #fantasy #lila's wips: dosa #bean's excerpts #lila's short stories

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