#actually i think she would still call herself iron man no you cannot change my mind

[theforgottenmcrmy]

live reactions to house of the dragon season 2, episode 3

this is still for my own amusement, but as always, I’m open to polite discussion🖤

spoilers below the cut

Still loving this new intro, is it just me, or is it changing with each episode? it’s definitely changing, right?

Ooooooo we’re getting right into the Bracken and Blackwoods, let’s freaking go! 👏🏻

Lmao, everyone calling Rhaenyra a kinslayer, conveniently forgetting Aemond threw the first stone with Luke

Blackwoods standing on business, as usual 💅

Wait that transition was💀 We’re not even into the thick of the war yet, and look at the cost…

Rhaenyra “I cannot fault him for keeping his oath” you’re too good for this world ma’am

Rhaenys spitting stone cold facts. And so poetically too.

This might be a hot take, but I don’t feel like Rhaenys suggesting Rhaenyra make another attempt at peace with Alicent would be a weak move. She’s right on the money with suggesting they’re both largely backed into their respective corners by the men who surround them. One last attempt at peace, woman to woman, is not a sign of weakness (in my opinion at least).

Crispy Cole having imposter syndrome already?!💀👀

this man has the balls to abandon his duty to canoodle with the dowager queen, but can’t take the position of Hand in stride with a bit more confidence?

Lmao, Aegon’s own council doubting him and Cole already😂😂😂

Daeron mentioned again, I want to see the Blue Queen let’s go 🤞🏻

Aemond holding onto that same coin, interesting…

Cole really having a chuckle at Ser Arryk’s death as though he did not single handedly sentence him to that death. And a few people are still disputing that this guy has to be one of the worst ever in Westeros?

I’m pretty sure Aemond’s trying to bait Aegon here, plant some doubt in his head about his suitability to actual fighting in the war🤔

Mysaria, the voice of the small folk

Does this mean Laenor’s dead? And it was recent? I can’t help but think Seasmoke at least would have tried to follow him years ago when he left… and if he’s just recently become restless, what changed?

I understand why Rhaenyra is asking what she is of Rhaena, and I don’t think she’s doing it to hurt Rhaena at all. But Rhaena, that poor girl🥲 she needs to have her moment, even if it’ll take a few episodes or longer. Not to prove her worth to others, but to herself.

Also, definitely getting Daemon vibes from her, in terms of wanting to prove herself

HARRENHAL, here we go! 👻

I know this is supposed to be serious and hall because Harrenhal is haunted, but Daemon sneaking around Scooby Doo style waiting for something to come at him is so unintentionally funny to me

Speaking of Scooby Doo, not the bat flyby😂

Also, Daemon’s armor is sickkk.

Wonder if Daemon ever thought, “This is where Rhaenyra’s last serious lover died. So wtf am I doing here?!👀”😂😂😂

Daemon “knock out guard first, ask questions later” Targaryen

“I’m claiming Harrenhal.” (Tywin Lannister voice): “Any man who has to say he claims a castle did not truly claim the castle at all”

It was so anticlimactic too😂 you will not convince me that the writers don’t know what they’re doing, rightfully throwing in these sort of bits to diffuse the tension

Alys Rivers, that you?!?!?!👀

Simon Strong disowning Larys😂 we love to see it.

Sin begets sin begets sin. This line has no right to go so hard-

“The throne?”

“It’s a big chair, made of swords.”

Music this season is (not surprisingly) serving as always

Do you think Ser Gwayne has his suspicions about Criston and Alicent yet?🤔

This man is so bold, I stg- if you’re that bold, Ser Crispy, why don’t you show Aemond what you just received from his mother? Or better yet, Aegon?

It’s kind of ironic, how Cole has probably deluded himself to thinking he finally has this great courtly and noble love with the widowed queen- all without seeing the hypocrisy of it all.

Rhaenyra needs to set these men straight. I cannot believe how quick they are to suggest she go into hiding. She’s already made plans to send her most vulnerable children away to safety. You cannot convince me that, were she a man, her councilors would not even dare to make this suggestion to her.

Rhaenys steadfast support of Rhaenyra is going to make the inevitable hurt that just more.

Rhaenys suggesting Rhaena become the heir to Driftmark?👀 I like the idea tbh

This is the last time we see them have a one on one conversation, isn’t it?🫥

Chillllllllllls with the dragon eggs. Morning is coming.

Joffrey😓 and Viserys and Aegon.

Helaena trying to rationalize her son’s death.😭 And still acknowledging the small folk…

Also, poor Helaena forgiving her mother🥲 she’s a better woman than me, because I could never.

Larys, the pot stirrer. I swear this man’s only motivation in life is chaos.

But I do have to wonder, is his allegiance really to Aegon, or is it some backwards attempt to keep Aegon safe to garner Alicent’s favor still?

Her name is escaping me rn, but not the poor girl who Aegon assaulted STILL being assaulted by men at her new job😭

I get the desire to make the connection with the audience that Ulf has to Targaryens, but of alll the people the writers could have chosen from, choosing Viserys and Daemon’s father doesn’t sit well with me. Not saying it is impossible, but from what we know of Baelon and Alyssa’s relationship, it just doesn’t seem super likely he’d have a lot of bastards running around out there.

Ulf, already showing his turncoat ways🫢

Oh Lordy, that’s a bit graphic

Aegon, still being a terrible bully to his younger brother. Great to see how little his truly changed over the years.

Oh Lordy, the Aemond girlies are going to go absolutely feral after this scene———

Daemon might have been the one to call him Ser Crispin, but his daughter is about to make the name become a reality 😂👏🏻

Just the foreshadowing of Rook’s Rest is already too much for me personally🥲

Here we go, more mystery solving antics from detective Daemon…

🫨🫨🫨

Now if that man didn’t truly love Rhaenyra in his own way (or at least have some guilt over what he had done) why the hell would he have had that reaction to that vision?

The Sept?👀

SEPTA RHAENYRA👏🏻

The new Kingsguard members might not have even recognized Rhaenyra if they had seen her

Alicent swearing on the memory of her mother, just like Rhaenyra had years before🫢

Literally seeing a lightbulb moment go off in Rhaenyra’s head-

Ooooooooooo god, Alicent realizing all this started because of a misunderstanding and her hearing what she wanted to hear👀

And of course, she has to double down. It’s already gone too far.

I do have to pity Alicent a little here. Just like Cersei, she has to admit that she knows her son has become a monster she cannot control.

Alicent can think she is taking the upper hand now, but the next time she sees Rhaenyra, it’s likely to be another story😏

Chillllllllls for next week’s preview

[septembersghost]

The reason why this is bothering me is also because she is literally with a man who was doing nazi salute, is a racist, is a misogynist while she herself spoke up against it and said " There’s literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It’s repulsive. There should be no place for it." As a POC WHY IS SHE WITH A MAN WHO DID THIS WHEN SHE HERSELF IS AGAINST IT? Dont even get me started on the disgusting comments he made about her

i know it, and i hear you all and share in this distress and empathize so much, it's just really hard because we can't affect or change it, which makes me unsure where we go from here.

my inbox was overflowing, but i didn't publicly talk much about the breakup because i was hesitant to speak about something we honestly have next to no information about, and for me (i know a lot of fans haven't felt this way, and that's fine, just speaking for myself), joe has never done anything to warrant vilifying him that we can concretely point to. inferences from surprise songs don't actually tell me anything. inferences from PR-speak articles don't either. i cannot claim to know what he/she/they did or said or what happened between them that ended their relationship, nor do i feel it's my place to do so. i can also admit honestly that i fell into the trap of romanticizing, because the songs she wrote were so beautiful and moving that it captivated my hopeless romantic heart in wanting to believe it would last and in rooting for their happiness (and some of that is projection, which i can also admit, because i don't know what it's like to experience a love like that, so it was a golden ideal in my head). if we eventually get more information or the situation changes in some way, then we can discuss it more, but as it stands, joe's only "crime" is...not being able to cope with the intense spotlight anymore? being too introverted (an accusation that hurts my feelings personally lol)? not showing up for her (definitely would be an issue)? we have no real idea, but to our knowledge, he also has no abusive or harmful behavior on record, and i'm still grateful she had him in her life, and that their love existed, and that the music still exists forever.

matty's whole deal is...like the opposite? which maybe that's what she's seeking right now, again, we don't and can't know. but it would be one thing if he was, like, a ~bad boy~ reputation with no verifiably harmful words and actions, and that isn't the case. he's said and done rancid stuff, and it's off-putting and confusing at the least, repulsive and bigoted at the worst.

i assume the misogynistic comments he made about her (which! ironically fans were accusing joe of thinking somehow, even though he's never once said anything close to that. um?), he apologized for or they worked out amongst themselves years ago directly, and i said this to animalanon in a comment yesterday (😞 we love you, animalanon!), but the problem here is that, while there absolutely should be space to forgive people for mistakes and for grace following growth and recognition and whatever apology might be warranted - if matty had only done these things when he was in his twenties, i'd say, hey, people change, let's not immediately judge here, but it's all very recent. we're not discussing antics from a decade ago, we're discussing abhorrent comments from, like, six weeks ago. what he said about harry, what he said about ice spice which then extended into further racism, the n/zi salute, the edgelord behavior, it's all current, and the closest thing he did as far as remorse goes was an "i'm sorry if you're offended" apology, which isn't an actual apology. so. yeah. it's not great!

(i'm also very selfishly sad as a fan that all of this has taken away from tour and the celebration of her career and now even the joy for SNTV, which we've been waiting for so excitedly!)

he 100% deserves to be called out on these things, and we should question her willingness to associate herself with him when the things he has done are antithetical to everything she says she stands for and has spoken against. idk it feels demoralizing and helpless since there's nothing we can do but watch it unfold and hope for the best (she comes to her senses and emerges unscathed). we can allow her room to be human and flawed while still disagreeing (and feeling concern, which i do) where need be.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 64 ARYA X (pages 800-816)

Arya discovers there's about to be yet another change in Harrenhal management, and decides to get herself and her boys out of dodge.

-

The cook was spared (some said because he made the weasel soup), but stocks where hammered together for pretty Pia and the other women who'd shared their favors with Lannister soldiers, Stripped and shaved, they were left in the middle ward beside the bear pit, free for the use of any man who wanted them.

I've changed my mind on violence. All these men deserve death. This isn't justice, it's an excuse to rape women and call their hands clean.

If it were about justice, the women would have been killed clean like the men.

... and now there's another person threatening to object-rape Arya. GRRM, turn on your location. I just want to talk.

Arya punched his arm. "It was just hot broth. You hated Ser Amory too." "I hate this lot worse. Ser Amory was fighting for his lord, but the Mummeers are sellswords and turncloaks. Half of them can't even speak the Common Tongue. Septon Utt likes little boys, Qyburn does black magic, and your friend Biter eats people." The worst thing was, she couldn't even say he was wrong.

Utt's perversion is not better. He needs to die.

wait. Qyburn? the hell are you doing here? other than foul magicks.

I legit hate that Roose's command is worse than Tywin's. I mean, it's not surprising, I might strongly dislike Lannisters, and Tywin, but he was just ornery, Roose is a grade-A whack-job. I wish that this wasn't a lesson Arya had to learn like this, that sometimes a person you personally hate is the better man.

(Mind you, when it comes to "who's a better man" comparing Roose and Tywin is like comparing a dry poop and a wet one. Not exactly good examples.)

She still had the stupid coin he'd given her, a piece of iron no larger than a penny -

Hang on. Penny? Do they have pennies in Westeros? brb googling. Dragon, Moon, Stag, Star, Groat, Halfgroat, Penny, Halfpenny. So yep, apparently they do. ... sorry, almost tripped down a research spiral re: the word origin and etymology of 'penny.' I need to not think about it. Actually, for my sanity, unless someone can provide me with a Watsonian explanation, I'm just going to pretend there's some connection with the coins of Pentos, and that the word is slang.

"The castle is so large that it needs an army to hold it, and once surrounded we cannot feed and army. Nor can we hope to lay in sufficient supplies. The country is ash, the villages given over to wolves, the harvest burnt or stolen. Autumn is on us, yet there is no food in store and none being planted. We live on forage, and if the Lannisters deny the to us, we will be down to rats and shoe leather in a moon's turn."

I'll bet the smallfolk aren't fairing any better. Not that this lot would care about them.

...yes, good, continue to talk in front of Arya, let her know all your secre- oh shit, I forgot she didn't know about fake Bran and Rickon yet.

If Winterfell is truly gone, is this my home now? Am I still Arya, or only Nan the serving girl, for forever and forever and forever?

:( Poor Arya, she's not just facing the loss of her family, but her identity. Up til now, she's been changing identities like a weather appropriate jacket, but she's always had that chance, the goal, of going back to Arya of Winterfell, now even that might be gone with her brothers and her home.

She chewed on her lip, hoping. If I had wings I could fly back to Winterfell and see for myself.

I feel like I should add "If I had wings" or general wishing for wings to my drinking game, I swear I've seen it several times by various Stark siblings.

He hates me too, or else he's scared of me,

Arya is not enjoying the consequences of her actions. She might be enjoying them more if the 'victors' weren't complete garbage, to be fair.

Roose: I am a fair man who will forgive small slights

*looks at the shit his men are allowed to get away with. looks at the rumours surrounding House Bolton. looks at the shit he personally does.* Are you though? Do you though?

Press F to doubt.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffff

"Tell me what to do, you gods," she prayed. For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb. And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf. Gooseprickles rose on Arya's skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy. Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father's voice. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives," he said. "But there is no pack," she whispered to the weirwood. Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone north to the Wall. "I'm not even me now, I'm Nan."

The pack survives = 🥛 (was it on the list? well it is now, because I love this line.)

also, it's interesting in a "is it a coincidence GRRM?" kind of way, that the four she lists are the four who survive the up coming turning of the tables.

But also this chapter is going hard with Arya and her shaken sense of self and identity, not just who she is as Arya, but also a little with the "who are the good guys really?" (Spoiler, there aren't any in war, just people who will be less awful if they're in charge, and people who will be less awful to people they see as people if they're in charge. *le shock* oh wow, it's almost like ASOIAF is secretly anti-war! who could have foreseen this? not D&D that's for sure! sorry, I'm putting the meanness away now.)

For a moment, she did not think he understood, but then he slid out from under the blankets. Naked, he padded across the room, shrugged into a loose roughspun tunic and climbed down from the loft after her.

roughspun = 🥛 Gendry sleeps in the buff: confirmed 😳

... pft, Arya getting the horses like, the only thing missing from this ruse is a clipboard of +20 "I'm totally supposed to be here doing this"

the 'con' in 'conartist' is short for 'confidence'~

His throat, it must be his throat, but he's too tall, I'll never reach it. ... "Silver you say?" He did not believe her, but he wanted to; silver was silver after all. "Give it over then." Her fingers dug down beneath her tunic and came out clutching the coin Jaqen had given her. In the dark the iron could pass for tarnished silver. She held it out... and let it slip through her fingers. Cursing her softly, the man went to a knee to grope for the coin in the dirt, and there was his neck right in front of her. ... "Valar morghulis," she whispered as he died.

YES!

good girl! clever! ... *smacks D&D with the steel chair for the hell of it* actually, hang on...

D&D suck at their job = 🥛

I've been skipping drinks.

No but, let's just talk about this for a second. Arya understood she was in danger, that her time of relative safety was over, and put together a plan to get not just her, but her two companions out, despite the fact they were the reason she was stuck there in the first place. She thought about exit strategy, transport, and supplies, (plus extra layers of clothing,) and then this fabulous piece of improve? Delightful! It really showcases her adaptability and ability to think under pressure.

In the show this escape was mastered by Jaqen start to finish, but D&D absolutely wanted to push and Arya "not like other girls/action girl" Stark narrative, so why the hell would they cut this? why give it to Jaqen? Like I get that they changed the script and voided the Harrenhal take over but why remove Arya's contributions to the escape so completely? Why not at least "here' what I want to happen, make it happen and I'll unname you"????

Also, also: her first time using Valar morghulis as a murder punchline or whatever it is you call the quippy remarks or ominous quotes that are said to your murder victim.

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts)   (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

/

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

/

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

/

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

/

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

/

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

/

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

/

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?  

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

/

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

/

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

/

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

/

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

/

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

/

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell ​@partypoison00 ​ @90ssantiago

[insomniumstella]

fitting in

bucky x reader 

summary: an unfortunate series of events or Bucky Barnes tries to fit in at the compound 

warnings: some talk of sex, fluff, curse words, awkwardness 

word count: 1,828

To say Bucky’s glad to have Steve would be an understatement. He’s delighted and overjoyed to have a best friend, a brother who never gave up on him, who saved him, who brought Bucky to the compound, a place he calls home and introduced him to his teammates, the people Steve wholeheartedly loves. Steve’s family in a way. Bucky’s happy for Steve, he really is, but sometimes he feels jealous, and sometimes, he cannot help, but wonder how would it feel like to fit in, to have the same friendships Steve has with the others. He’s drinking his morning coffee when y/n comes into the kitchen at 6:03am. She rubs her sleep painted face, and he smiles, offering to make her a cup. Grateful, she sits down, watching him try and figure out the espresso machine. He, himself, never uses it, preferring to make coffee the 1940s way, with a kettle and coffee grounds, but he remembers y/n making a disgruntled face every time Steve hands her an old-fashioned cup of coffee, and so even though he doesn’t understand how the machine works, he’s modern enough to know that pressing the ‘black coffee’ button will make her a cup she’ll actually like. He doesn’t say anything when she pours, what seems like, half a bottle of creamer, either, even if he doesn’t understand it. She smiles after taking a sip, and it brightens Bucky’s heart. Ironically, he’s always more careful around y/n, because she’s the nicest, and she made him feel welcome from day one. Bucky doesn’t want to lose her trust. He smiles to himself when she pats a chair, inviting him to sit right next to her, and he gladly accepts it, sitting down so close, their arms brush against each others. Neither speak up as they drink their coffee in comfortable silence, and watch as the rising sun paints the sky in warm orange and golden hues. He puts his mug down, studying her as she closes her eyes, relishing in the warmth coming through the window, and strangely, he feels more content than he did in the last 70 years. But then she suddenly opens her eyes, startling Bucky and he accidentally moves his arm, in turn knocking his cup down, and the boiling beverage spills down y/n’s old t-shirt. Wide-eyed, he start mumbling something along the lines of sorry and it was an accident, but she puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, and slightly smiles at him before disappearing from the kitchen. A sight makes its way past his lips and Bucky lets his head fall down, forehead hitting the hard marble.

Embarrassment washes over him again when he and Steve enter the gym for their 12pm training session, and he sees her. y/n’s standing in the boxing ring, having changed out of the t-shirt into a more sparring appropriate outfit of a workout bra and leggings. “Ready to get your asses kicked, boys?” She laughs, the sound of it coming teasing and sweet. Rolling his eyes, Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s shoulder when they walk up to the girl.

“I’m not fighting today, but I’m sure Bucky’s ready.” Bucky smiles timidly upon hearing Steve’s voice and straightens his shoulders. He nods his head, throwing his towel to the side, and chooses to climb up into the ring from the side instead of using the stairs. Bucky’s tall, so it’s easy, and y/n playfully rolls her eyes when they’re standing eye-to-eye.

“Show off.” y/n teases, but Bucky has no chance to reply, as she swings herself onto him just seconds later, wrapping her legs around his head, and throwing Bucky to the floor in a couple swift moves. They lock eyes for a bit, and y/n tilts her head, as if asking why he’s not moving, but Bucky quickly recollects himself, grabbing onto her ankle, and bringing her down onto the floor before she can attack him further. She swiftly gets up, Bucky following right after, and for a couple moments they just walk, both in fighting positions, and both ready to attack when the time will seem right to do so. She gets behind him, and when Bucky tries quickly turning around, he accidentally lifts his metal arm up, hitting y/n in the stomach so hard, she falls out of the ring and on the hard floor, groaning. Steve jumps up from his spot, running to check up on y/n, but thankfully, she’s uninjured, the only sign of the accident being an already forming bruise on her right shoulder. “It’s my fault, really.” She groans out, but Bucky does not seem to hear that. y/n leaves the gym shortly after that, and Bucky tells Steve about the coffee incident, stopping him before the blonde has any chances of making fun of the man.

It’s 3:12pm, when the shower in Bucky’s bathroom runs out of hot water and he’s walking up to Steve’s room. Usually, he’d knock before entering someone’s room, but it’s Steve’s, and Bucky knows Steve stayed behind for an extra cardio session. Shaking his head at the blonde’s passion for working out, he strips off his clothing, and enters the bathroom. It’s warm and a little foggy, almost as if someone was just showering, but Bucky’s not fazed, thinking it was probably Steve that came down to shower before his run, a towel still left close to the shower’s curtain. Neatly placing a clean outfit and a pair of boxers on the sink’s edge, he looks at himself in the mirror. If he thought spilling boiling coffee down his crush’s t-shirt or knocking her down was embarrassing, his ungodly thoughts seem downright shameful. A war happens inside his mind as he looks down at his hard-on, but Bucky needs this, he needs to let down some steam. Grasping the sink, Bucky palms his dick in his hand; he thinks back to her legs wrapped around him, and the way her ass, covered in lacy panties, peaked from under her shirt this morning. It’s only when an involuntary moan slips past his lips, does y/n fully understand how much trouble she’s in. Her shower had run out of hot water when she’s gotten back from the gym, so she went over to Steve’s without thinking much about it. Except now she’s soapy and wet, stuck in his shower, with only a curtain between her and Bucky, and she’s pretty sure those are moans that she’s hearing. Her mouth drops open when she realises she might be listening to Steve and Bucky having sex, and when the thought fully settles in her mind, she vows to herself to never use other people’s showers without asking. It’s both a relief and a nightmare, when a metal arm pushes the curtain open and a naked, mortified Bucky stares back at her. Her gaze drifts to his hard on for a moment, before she closes her eyes all together. Bucky tries his best to not let his eyes wonder around her body, but the image of her, seemingly perfect, curves already carved deep, deep into his brain. Closing the curtain, he hears the water start running again, before a hand reaches for a towel, and seconds later, y/n steps out, wrapped in the fluffy, white material. She tries smiling at him, but he’s still naked, as in the midst of shock he forgot to cover himself, and it’s awkward as hell, so y/n quickly scurries past Bucky, and out of Steve’s room completely. Looking down, Bucky sights. “How in the fucking hell are you still up?”

When the whole teams comes to the dining room for their usual 8pm dinner, Bucky’s too mortified and embarrassed to look y/n in the eyes. He can sense she also feels awkward, avoiding him as much as possible, setting the table up and bringing dish after dish from the kitchen. When she comes out with the final plate, the only open seat is next to Bucky, and even though she still feels weird, she reluctantly sits down, and even smiles at him slightly. Everyone’s plates are full, and people have started eating when Steve sparks a conversation.

“So, all the hot water in my room was gone when I got back.” He focuses on Bucky and y/n. “Either of you have something to say?” Shaking her head no, y/n continues eating her meal, playing innocent and smiles at their Captain. “What about you, Buck?” Sighting, he puts his fork down, and looks at his best friend.

“Alright, I took a shower in your room, because mine was broken.” He admits, hoping Steve will leave the topic alone, but strangely, he doesn’t.

“At least two people had to shower in my room to use up the hot water.” Bucky can only hope his face isn’t flaming red, but he can feel the heat rising up to his cheeks and spreading down his neck. Noticing Steve’s waiting for an answer, y/n turns to Tony.

“I can’t believe you’re a billionaire, but half of the showers at the compound are broken.”

“y/n, I also found your panties in my bathroom.” Choking on her bite, y/n takes a sip of her drink, before meeting Steve’s eyes. Everyone’s looking at y/n and Bucky, Tony’s amused face doing nothing, but fuelling y/n’s anger. “Did you and Bucky shower together?”

If Bucky could have just one wish, he’d wish for the Earth to swallow him whole in that very moment. “Steve, we were not showering.” Bucky blurts out, realising how insinuating it sounds only when half of the team’s jaws drop to the floor.

“Did you have sex instead?” Natasha asks, a teasing smile on her face.

“No!” They both blurt out at the same time, faces heated up in embarrassment. Bucky looks at y/n apologetically, and raises his eyes back to Steve.

“We didn’t-“ he starts “I didn’t-“ he tries to form a sentence, but keeps choking over his words. Knowing the team won’t believe them either way, y/n takes over for Bucky.

“Steve, Bucky and I are sorry for not leaving you any hot water. The rest of you can go back to eating.” Y/n has that overly sweet smile on her face, but when she turns to Bucky, her face softens, and she rubs his shoulder, whispering it’s not worth it. And so he drops the topic, leaving it alone, and goes back to eating his meal in quiet. But for what seemed like the worst day ever, it’s not so bad; it’s the first time Sam doesn’t make a joke where his teammates laugh at Bucky, instead laughing with him, and it’s the first time Tony smiles, genuinely smiles at him, gesturing to y/n when she isn’t looking and holding thumbs up. And when the sun has hidden all the way, and the time for sleep has come, y/n smiles at him before disappearing into her room, and, yeah, he thinks, I guess it wasn’t such a bad day after all.

[jjuzoir]

Random Kageyama Tobio HCS

Word Count: 1851

Warnings: just... me being in love with a m*n other than masumi 😔 also! these are my headcanons as in,,, what i personally i think he’d be like ‼️ also me projecting my ideal man into him (as if he wasn’t it already 😋)

A/N: i... i love tobio so much it’s literally unreal... i couldn’t wait for a request (i’m still working on the remaining 4 too lolol) so take me projecting my love for tobio >:(

— Kageyama normally wears loose fitting clothes or athletic-style clothing. His favorite go to outfits tends to be a loose tee, some loose pants with an obnoxious Nike logo he swears are super cool but look like two garbage bags sewed together, and running shoes. Throw a hoodie in there for colder weather, even then he still manages to look good.

— He takes very good care of his hair, like freaky good care, because of Miwa. Once she enrolled in cosmetology school and she saw Kageyama use the same baby shampoo from when they were kids she freaked out (if she’d been any later he’d start using 3-in-1) and chewed his ear off about hair care. His hair is super shiny and there’s literally no freeze, he uses nice smelling shampoo and conditioner too. Ugh, I love him.

— He has a very sensitive nose but it gets clogged easily so he doesn’t notice much unless it miraculously unclogs itself and he’s complaining about everything.

— “Eh! Hinata, why’d you smell like a fucking axe bottle?!” “Why does no one say anything about Tsukishima smelling like strawberries?” “Yamaguchi smells like... milk.” “Hah?! Sugawara smells bad-?!”

— He says he’s a picky eater to appear cool but as long as you don’t say what’s in the food he’ll down it. He’ll say he doesn’t like carrots but if you give him a salad with carrots he might even say “it’s the best salad he’s ever had”.

— He’s a hot sleeper, and not in the “oh he’s sexy” type of way. I’m talking, he’ll sweat buckets if he sleeps with anything other than a flimsy white t-shirt and his underwear.

— Might be me projecting my love for bunny teeth but he has bunny teeth, his front teeth are a bit bigger than average (not to the point it’s super noticeable but it’s still something Miwa teased him about), his aunties probably squeezed his cheeks and called him “baby bunny” when he was younger.

— He doesn’t go to sleep later than 9PM, he thinks if he does it’ll ruin his schedule (which it will) and fuck up his body - he’s seen Miwa screw up hers after she pulled a bunch of all nighters in her third year in high school and has been afraid since.

— The type to forget people were coming over and come out of his room shirtless asking for his clean underwear.

— His sister forced him to let her cut and style his hair which led to many questionable hairstyles. Tsukishima is genuinely so grateful to Miwa, especially when she was first starting - he’s got some pictures of Tobio with the shortest most embarrassing bangs ever saved in his phone in a file for blackmail if the need for it ever presented itself.

— Likes pissing people off on purpose sometimes, during one of the training camps he probably walked into the bath with socks on and was made fun of but out of spite he just… never took them off. Said he’d done it on purpose and all too. Tanaka cried out of fear for like a hot minute when he saw him standing under the shower with Iron Man socks on.

— He’s so petty too, if you make fun of him for messing up he’ll remember until you embarrass yourself to make fun of you. And when I say he remembers, I mean it - he can’t for his life remember when to use make and do in english but he remembers when Hinata made fun of him for wearing different socks back on their first year and yes he will bring it up on their second year when he did the same thing what are you going to do about it?

— Probably got scouted for a modeling agency once and began running away because he thought they were trying to kidnap him.

— If he had Tiktok… he would’ve gone viral after posting a video of him practicing, he posted for a while for fun and to flex on people that he was hot but then he saw a comment saying they wanted to drink his milk under a video of him drinking milk and he deleted his account, he can’t buy from that brand for a while.

— He’s got a video of a gorilla walking in two legs saved on his phone for when he’s feeling down and watches it whenever he’s not going well. People think he’s texting his S/O but no, he’s just watching a gorilla walk like minecraft Steve.

— He can’t pose for pictures to save his life, his default pose is an NPC stance with his arms stiffly hanging down and his eyes wide in surprise, don’t ask him to smile or else he will look like a serial killer.

— He’s got a bit of baby fat on his cheeks that won’t disappear no matter what. It’s become a pre-game ritual to pinch his cheeks. He’s also got dimples you can really only see when he smiles naturally but he doesn’t know and he’d get shy if he knew and try covering his face so don’t tell him, that’s a fact he told me so himself.

— Cannot dance to save his life. He’s so long (?) his limb control is non-existent, it appears in game and vanishes when he steps out of the court. He really just bounces on his heels and moves his arms like a t-rex, don’t ask more of him.

— Buys his clothes one size bigger just in case and Miwa teases him saying he’ll need them when he gets old and fat.

— Gets asked out often but always rejects, then has the audacity to complain he’s never dated anyone like he hasn’t turned down half of the school's population.

— Can’t sing. He’s got a nice speaking voice but ask him to sing and he’s out of tone, out of sync, out of breath, and out of the room in 5 seconds.

— Sugawara joked about having him singing as his alarm clock and Kageyama actually believed him, probably sent him a new recording as a gift after he annoyed him during practice.

— Surprisingly funny when he wants to but most jokes fly over people’s heads since he seems so serious most of the time, it annoys him to no end. Yachi still struggles differentiating when he is and isn’t joking because his tone literally doesn’t change at all and she doesn’t want to offend him.

— When he was younger he liked to collect rocks, not even the pretty ones he’d pick the most average, raggedy rocks off the ground and clean them up and tuck them to bed because he saw Miwa play with her barbies like that. Still owns his first rock, he named it “Johnson” after Dwayne Johnson, aka the rock (he’s had to explain it so many times he’s exhausted).

— Accidentally drank expired milk once and didn’t notice until his stomach began hurting and he thought he became lactose intolerant and he was inconsolable for days until he realized it had expired like a month ago - he went on a milk shopping spree and the milk sales that week saw a 20% rise from the last few months.

— Tobio had bad handwriting until he was in Junior High because his teachers couldn’t understand him and had him practice calligraphy, his handwriting is now one of the prettiest ones in the team and he’s the official inker of the VBC posters (as designated by Goddess Yachi Hitoka herself).

— His biggest fear for a long time was getting eaten by piranhas because he saw it happen so often in cartoon shows he genuinely thought it was going to be a bigger deal than it turned out to be but for like a solid 6 years of his life he avoided suspicions puddles just in case.

— Kageyama has a habit of rolling and unrolling his sleeves when he’s deep in thought, it soon made way to a habit of checking his wrist watch (he absolutely has a wrist watch, you cannot change my mind on that) but not actually reading it.

— His nails are very pretty, like most setters, he takes very good care of them. They’re filed down to a perfect length and he puts oils and creams, his hands in general are so nice. He takes a lot of pride in them, you know his cuticles are pushed back and trimmed and he could absolutely be a hand model. Kags’ hands are calloused, he’s a volleyball player of course they are, but it’s not to the extent of Ushijima or Daichi’s hands.

— Talking about hands, it’s probably one of his favorite features on people. He loves holding hands with his S/O and tracing the wrinkles in their palm, being able to interlock fingers with them and feel the bumps in them.

— Mumbles to himself when in thought too! Very nonsensical if you’re not informed on what he’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about you he’ll mumble your name or something like “pretty eyes”.

— Has a very healthy diet, like extremely healthy and thought out. He won’t eat anything too sugary or that could throw off his body, but he does have cheat days (which are rare but exist). He also doesn’t drink much soda or alcohol (once he’s of age).

— Things like smoking are a big no, he takes so much care of his body he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette or be near a smoking area, lowkey paranoid of ingesting the smoke too.

— When he’s older I can see him having a dog and a cat, the dog would be a big dog; if they stood on two paws it’d be the same height as you, he’d name or something like Tobias and think he was super clever and funny, the cat would probably a small cat he’d name Milk (it probably would be a black cat too but he does not care).

— Probably tried baby formula because he heard it was a substitute for breast milk. No further comments on this.

— I feel like he doesn’t listen to music, but if he had to choose something he’d pick instrumental music - not orchestral music or anything like that - but more of a chill, no deep meaning just guitar and piano track. I could see him listening to Shego Sekito or Joe Hisashi on occasion, he might even listen to some 2000’s pop if he wants something to pump him up during training (he works out to Brittney Spears’ “Womanizer”).

— A cuddle-bug when he’s sleepy, he’ll throw himself across his S/O and not move at all, he just wants to stay there and not move ever again (or at least until he’s not feeling like passing out). He’ll like to wrap himself around them and cuddle their neck, he’ll attach himself to their arm like it’s a lifeline.

— In other words, Kageyama Tobio… b-boyfriend material.

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon

Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.

Breaker of Chains & Mhysa

Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:

"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."

As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.

She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.

Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.

For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.

In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.

When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.

Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.

"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."

So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.

As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.

Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.

The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.

Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.

The House with the Red Door

Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.

To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.

Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.

"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.

Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.

But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.

I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.

Mother of Dragons

Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.

The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.

Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.

I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."

But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:

"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.

The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):

She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.

The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):

Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.

I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.

Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary:  Y/N’s training begins, but not before she discovers one of Obito’s secrets.

Words: 1.7k

AO3

Please reblog or like if you enjoy, comments are always welcome <3

5:30 in the morning. It is the sixth time Y/N has woken up. This whole concussion thing has messed up her whole sleeping schedule, she tried her best to get some rest, but to no avail. She ended up sleeping for about fourteen or fifteen hours between small intervals, but she feels worse than before. 

Y/N drags herself out of bed, makes some coffee, and brushes her teeth, the whole deal. Having a constant roof above her head is nice, she has to admit that. Not having to worry about wild animals and the climate is cool, but the warmth of a bed is the best part of it. Tying her brand new bandana on her forehead, she leaves the small apartment and heads to the training grounds on the outskirts of the village.  

She makes her way through the village’s main market, trying to avoid stumbling onto the hundreds of busy people bustling around her. Watching people attend to their duties and following their routines has always been a hobby of hers, she always found interest in seeing people who can afford to do the same thing every day, have some sort of routine. Can she consider herself one of them now? No, maybe not. Ninjas are always doing different missions and whatnot; their routines are as fucked up as a merc’s. Maybe she can become a baker in another life, who knows? 

Around the corner, a hand blocking her way surprises her. At the end of it is a medium height man with his hair tucked into some sort of fabric, with bits of brown hair coming out of the sides. The man holds a toothpick between his lips, accompanied by a smug smile and an attitude that instantly annoys Y/N. 

“’Sup babygirl, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

“I’ve been busy for the last 26 years”

“Busy living in my dreams, I bet”

“Busy fucking you mom, actually”

The sleazy type is the worst in Y/N’s opinion. Nothing disgusts her more than someone who thinks they’re hot shit just because they’re attractive. She pushes him away and keeps on walking.  

“Ouch! Feisty, I like that. I’ll remember ya!” he states as he leaves the scene with a wink and a flick of his toothpick. 

This has to be a joke, what a douchebag.

Going back on her way and observing the people, she closes into a mass of messy short black hair. The man has his back turned to her, but by the jonin vest and height, she assumes it could be… no, wait… it could not be! This man is helping an old lady carry a shitload of groceries, he would never be nice enough to do that. 

Could it be him!?

From afar, she changes angle to try and catch a glimpse of his face. After much difficulty dodging busy locals, she is able to see clearly and… it’s Obito! Obito Uchiha helping a poor old lady carry her stuff, I wish I had a camera on me. She thinks of approaching him, but she decides against it in favor of watching from a distance to see where this goes. 

Turns out the frail woman lives on the other side of town. Obito sure enough has carried all that stuff through the worst climbs Y/N has ever seen on a city. But that was not all: he was being extra nice. He laughed at all her jokes and even smiled back at her. This is grade A entertainment. 

When they finally reach her destination, the old lady pulls out a lollypop and gives it to him. Y/N immediately loses her shit, almost falling from the ceiling she is in because of her fit of laughter. Before she can compose herself, she notices a presence behind her. She was discovered, but who cares? She has seen enough. Obito towers above her, trying to look intimidating, but failing to do so since he has a lollipop on his mouth. 

“First you invade my house, now you’re following me. Are you sure I’m the one who should be called a creep?”

“Well, you’re right. Maybe I’ll start calling you… Granny Simp Uchiha©, how about that?”  

“I hate you”

“Ow, I’m so hurt, oh my god, how could you? But seriously, I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw that… I needed to see more to believe it” She states as she breaks into another fit of laughter

“Let’s go, we’re late for training”

“Have you ever been on time a day of your life, though?”

“Never, I’ll probably be late for my own funeral”

“Fair enough. Wait, did you just make a joke that’s not on my expense?”

“Oh no, your dumbassery is influencing me!” He raises his gloved hands ironically

“Shut up”

 ~”~

 They both reach the training grounds at around 7:30, late but not a whole lot, thanks to Obito’s kamui. Obito will have to make some slight modifications on the mission report to avoid Minato’s wrath. After a quick warmup, Obito goes straight to the point: 

“How much do you even know about jutsu?”

“Well… I can do that chakra punch, maybe walk on water and trees or release genjutsu, but that’s all.”

“Not even a clone or some substitution jutsu?”

“Nope”

“So you’re basically an academy student with enough brute force to take down S rank criminals… That’s… odd”

Y/N scratches the back of her head, clearly embarrassed by her lack of training. Obito did not expect to have to teach such basic things. I mean, if he wanted to teach people stuff he would have signed up for a job at the academy. He still cannot believe Minato sensei is putting him up to this babysitting job. 

He needs to do well on this mission if he wants to get back onto the Hokage’s good side and guarantee his position as the next one. This is his second day with Y/N and things have been insane and… fun? No, he should not be thinking like that. Perhaps he should also go talk with Kushina and ask her to convince sensei to let him go from this one; he was always her favorite after all.

“Granny simp? You ok? Did I disappoint you that much?”

Obito fixes his bandana’s position over his left eye, trying to get himself out of his head. He is here now, so he had better get to work. If he can control himself enough not to put her under a nasty genjutsu for calling him that again, that is. 

“Call me that again and I’ll tell everyone that you saw me naked”

“You were not naked, dickhead. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Uhm…?”

“…?”

“Anyway… we’ll start with some cloning jutsu. Have you ever done any seals?”

“Only one or two”

“Try to copy what I’m doing”

“Hey! Stop doing it so fast!”

She honestly seems to be giving her best, but her hand signs are not quite right and the chakra distribution on her network must be all wrong, judging by her failure in producing something that seems to be remotely human. This takes Obito’s memory back to his old academy days, back when he could not do a single clone properly. He would spend whole nights awake training to achieve something passable. Rin helped him a lot back then. The only thing he has ever taught someone was that sexy jutsu to Naruto. To say Kushina was mad was an understatement. 

“Concentrate your chakra all along your body, not only on your hands”

“Hum… right, can I get a lollipop after this?”

Four hours later and Y/N has finally mastered two basic jutsu: substitution and cloning. She almost passed out several times due to exhaustion, but thanks to some food pills, she is enduring todays training much better. 

Obito has been analyzing her every movement with his sharingan. Looking closely her techniques lack grace, truly a sign of someone who learned everything they know by experience. He needs to fix that too. 

Her endurance is also remarkably low. If she were to fight right now, she could do maybe two or three jutsu before passing out, making her rely solely onto her speed and blade habilities. The girl is more of a samurai than a ninja at this point. Examining her file earlier, he noticed that her chakra reserves are not that low as she has stated before, according to the medical department she has an average quantity of it. She just lacks the ability to use it properly.  

Some very hard work is in order; it could take some months to get her into decent shape. That would be too much time and effort for Obito, there has to be another way of dealing with this mission quicker. 

He did not want to do this, but he will have to talk to Kakashi for some teaching tips. Hell, if he was able to teach anything useful to Naruto he will be able to come up with a routine to help Y/N’s training. 

I just hope he doesn’t decide to bother me about this situation…

After dropping Y/N on her house, with much protest from her part, Obito heads to the village’s café to meet with Kakashi Hatake. He knows that the ninja likes to spend his late afternoons reading his porn books accompanied by some coffee, disgusting stuff if you ask Obito. The coffee, that is. He has no formed opinion on porn books.

Approaching the store, he spots his friend’s mass of upward pointing grey hair. Something is different about him, though. Kakashi is usually… a very apathetic person. The look he gave Obito had chills running the Uchiha’s spine, he looked, well, excited. 

“Obito! I finally found you! Sit down”

Aliens killed him and this is a body double. Or this is one of Gai’s practical jokes. Obito is honestly stumped.

“Are you ok bakashi?”

“Great! So… who’s the girl?”

Great, just awesome.      

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Of course you know, everyone is talking about how you were seen walking up and down with some mysterious gal. I’m so happy for you! Finally you’re going to stop being a sad grumpy bachelor! I’ll call dibs on the position of best-man” and suddenly Kakashi jumps up from his seat, coming closer to Obito’s face “Have you guys done it yet? Did she run away from you and now you need my advice? You could use some techniques from Icha I-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Those books are rotting your brain, seriously what the hell?”

“So is it true?”

[afoolnottoloveu]

kiss you until your lips turn blue ♡

Summary: Reader’s first impression and first date with a handsome stranger (WC: 1.3k) {Masterlist <3}

Pairing: Spencer Reid x she/her!Reader

TW: none!

A/N: this is the first in my “series” (but not rly bc theyre not gonna be one storyline) of dodie song imagines :-) bolded lines are direct lines from the song, but there are some subtler references so i do recommend listening to the song before/after(/during? do yall listen to music while u read cause i cannot)

Song Pairing: Absolutely Smitten - dodie

--

she knew this feeling all too well. looking at him across the room, his brow furrowing in a look she’s never seen associated with that book, the book that had to be ancient. the library she worked at had a very special section dedicated to those types of books, but she rarely went there. but him, he seemed to have a connection to that section. maybe she would have to go there more often. she didn’t believe in love at first sight, not even fate. but god, was she infatuated. his long brown curls, his accentuated features. he looked like an absolute dork, honestly. a handsome dork, who was also an absolute stranger. an absolute stranger who was now walking over to her as she was still staring at him, oh god.

luckily for her, he was having a real hard time holding all his books, keeping his gaze on them and not her. “hi, i’d like to check these out please,” his voice was higher than she had anticipated, but she wasn't one to judge. she barely had a voice right this second. he had to have had at least 15 books, ranging all over the spectrum, from classical literature, to foreign novels, to science-y looking books, (she was an english major, if that wasn’t obvious). poor dorky stranger looked like he’d need some help. “are these all for you, love?” the nickname spilling from her lips before she could think. she did the smallest wince she could manage because he was looking at her now with those gorgeous brown eyes and she was hoping, praying he didn't notice the wince nor the nickname. (spoiler alert: he noticed. both.) “uh-um y-yeah, they are,” he gave a small chuckle. “you know you have to return all of these within 2 weeks, right?” “i’ll probably be back in 1” she gave him a wide-eyed stare. as much as she loved books, she could probably finish at most 3 in a week. was this guy some superhuman? “well, do you need help carrying these back to your car? i couldn’t help but notice you struggling to carry them to this counter,” she giggled, causing a flush to spread across the stranger’s face. “that’d be great,” he grinned, causing her heart to swell. well, handsome stranger, you have turned her insides into jelly. - tonight was her first date with handsome stranger, spencer reid. after he came back the third time, and the third time of helping him carry books back to his car, they both seemed to have the same idea, asking each other to get a cup of coffee at the same time. she still had work after that, but today was the day for that cup of coffee. (she couldn't really refer to him as handsome stranger anymore, but it felt right, so she would continue to call him that in her head.) she looked in the mirror on her apartment wall, wearing a golden sundress and a large brown overcoat. it was mid-september; not too hot nor cold, but DC tended to have a killer breeze that she was always sensitive to. this had to be at least her third outfit change, and she thought she looked okay, but an image of him popped in her head. handsome stranger, you have made her wonder if she’s pretty. (pretty enough for someone as pretty as him, anyways. how ironic.) she took a deep breath and a good look in the mirror. ‘he’s made you smitten. absolutely smitten.’ and with that thought, she quickly headed out the door before she could change her mind. ~ she had told spencer she was taking him to a ‘surprise,’ but from the walk there, spencer had already guessed where they were going. the pre-surprise coffee was delightful; the two talked about an awful lot of books, other things amongst. he was a freaking FBI agent! not only that, but he was a profiler; he read people for a living. what a job. she asked him how he could possibly finish 15 books in a week-she thought it was a joke when he said that at the time. his response just baffled her even more. ‘i have an IQ of 187, can read 20,000 words per minute and have 3 PhDs and 3 BAs.’ she wanted to pick this man’s brain. maybe handsome stranger wasn’t so poorly fit after all, what did she really even know about this superhuman? she, on the other hand, was a freaking librarian, one of the most boring jobs out there. well, not to the two of them. she actually adored her job. she was still working on her masters degree on her off time, but it was great easy money and the old lady she worked with, gina, was like another grandma. spencer mentioned wanting to volunteer sometime, but his work schedule was hectic, cases taking him across the country at the oddest times.

the two of them approached the library and she stuck the smallest key from her key ring into the door to unlock it. it was about 8pm on a sunday, and luckily the store closed an hour prior, leaving it to their devices.

“is this allowed?”

“don’t worry, love; gina co-owns the library, i’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” she flashed him a smile, causing him to blush.

the library was tiny, probably the size of a high school one. she lead him over to the checkout desk and looked for the microphone somewhere underneath the table. with the tiny building, she only needed to use it in case of emergency, closing warnings when it was packed, that sort of thing.

“so, can you dance?” she questioned as she placed the microphone atop the desk. all spencer did was get wide-eyed, so she would assume the answer was no. “that’s alright, that’s never stopped me before.” and at that, she pressed play on her phone and placed it next to the mic. a soft instrumental began to play over the speakers as she quickly skipped to one of the corners and plugged something in. suddenly, the hanging string of lightbulbs lit up, giving the place a beautiful dim glow.

“wow,” she heard spencer breath at the setting.

“do you like it? i wanted to dance around the room, i hope you don’t mind.”

that caused spencer to look at her with an expression she could not read for the life of her.

“c’mon, you asked me if i could dance,” ignoring the question, he stuck out his hand for her to take, which she did with a smirk and a giggle. 

leading her to in front of the desk, the two swayed to the soft melody. he placed his hands on her waist as respectfully as possible as she wrapped her arms around his neck, even though the height difference was significant. once the rhythm seemed natural to the two of them, she laid her head on his chest, and spencer did his best not to flinch.

“didn’t you say you were something of a germaphobe? is this okay, love?” she whispered. all he could do was nod, and he was being honest. he felt safe.

once the song changed to something older that he couldn’t quite place his finger on, he leaned his head back, causing her to look up.

looking into her almost pleading eyes, he was the one who whispered this time. “can i kiss you?”

she wanted to respond ‘you can kiss me until your lips turn blue.’ instead, she opted for a nod. and then, her world stopped spinning and time froze. his lips were on her own, and she hated to admit it to anyone but herself, but this was a new feeling to her. it was a welcome one at that, though.

once pulled away, he recognized the song. it’s almost as if everything was a little bit clearer after he kissed her. they continued to sway to the new song, at last by etta james. she didn’t know, but he realized, he’ll never let you go. and she, well let’s just say she may believe in fate.

--

Taglist: @bxbyspxncer @yesimaunicorn @pumpkin-goob @prettyboy-reid

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 70 – Stepping Into the Daily Life  (Last Chapter)

“Frankenstein...” 

For the second time, Lunark and Muzaka sang in unison, the former out of anxiety and the latter out of fluster. 

Lunark was making pretzels out of her arms and legs in her lord's presence, in snow-white dress shirt loosely curved around her form and black shorts that werewolves don when they must find themselves on examination tables or in experimental tanks. 

Her style could not even meet the minimum demands to qualify as “stylish,” but Muzaka knew that she would never dress like this on her own.

Inevitably, his suspicion was directed to the man standing next to her, and Muzaka mercilessly spun his eyes and kicked at his head to blueprint the plan the blonde man was harboring. 

And then Frankenstein fired a shot aimed right through his calm.

“Lunark and I are together.” 

The unseen flame shattered Muzaka's eardrums, to hop and bounce between gyri and sulci of his brain and throw out his poise. 

“Don't tell me... You mean, 'together' together?” 

“'Together' together.” 

“Frankenstein!” 

I'd thought I told you to please make sure she'll give up on her feelings!

How can you do this to me?! 

Muzaka could not do anything more than keeping his lips parted in frenzied shock, lest she learn about the secret deal he made with Frankenstein. 

Much to his relief, Frankenstein knew how to keep a secret a secret. 

“I'm aware of what you fear. Of course you'd fear. You should know very well what human-werewolf love is like. After all, - forgive me - you had to suffer grievous parting with Lady Eileen and Miss Ashleen.” 

At once, Muzaka's lips furiously collided with each other, at the mention of names that had been flowers and thorns engraved into his heart. 

Now the petals have fallen, the thorns removed, leaving behind only nostalgic perfume, which he can now relaxedly albeit rarely articulate. 

In this case, however, perhaps because they came after Frankenstein's withdrawal from his request, Muzaka was quite unhappy. 

He would have been caught in rage not long after, if it were not for his knowledge that Frankenstein will never break a promise unless there is a very good reason to. 

“You wish Lunark wouldn't even catch a glimpse of what you had to walk through. There's no guarantee that she will be safe from the sabotage from her own kind. Love with humans is considered a taboo in your clan. But you don't wish to leave this pseudo-tradition untouched, do you?” 

Right afterwards, Frankenstein was pinned with arrow-stares silently demanding explanations. 

“I could feel various changes gliding over your domain ever since you returned to the throne. Such as, training warriors based on their natural-born power, untainted by experiments or body modifications. Improvement on relations with nobles. Demise of history of sacrificing your very kind, under orders of Maduke. And I bet amelioration of the counterpart with humans is included on your list. 'Cause lately the wolfkind has benefited from humans, not limited to me. And in order to do that, don't you think you must turn the table in favor of relationships with humans?” 

“...So, you're saying I should make use of your relationship?” 

“Consider it a destruction for creation. We'll destroy the wall that must now be brought down, to give rise to the seeds waiting to sprout from underneath.” 

No sound came from Muzaka, but he was deliberating. 

Frankenstein was right; with new era must come new rules, according to which he must remove the disconnection between mankind and wolfkind. 

And Frankenstein was offering a hand in this matter, which as a werewolf lord he must accept it. 

Lunark's face was a hint that Frankenstein was not the sole advocate of this suggestion. 

As for Muzaka's secondary concern, he dreaded that Lunark will not be able to fully dedicate herself to the QuadraNet Project and post-eradication of the Union due to her unreciprocated love. 

That is, unreciprocated love that will soon assume a wholesome relationship and thus serve no more as bars in her path, if Frankenstein is to make her emotions flow freely like thawed river. 

And yet Muzaka could not help but weigh the pros and cons, as he was worried that Lunark's choice will eventually turn into a tragedy. 

Lunark knew this, and hence she decided to be a lawyer for herself. 

“I know you care for me, my lord. You have been caring for me ever since I was a child. But trust me when I say this - the reason why I choose this path is not because I expect only happiness.” 

As Lunark put together her words, her hand slowly snaked its way towards the man standing next to her, to clasp his fingers and show how iron-hard their hearts are woven. 

“When there's spring, there's winter. When there's light, there's darkness. In other words, when there's darkness, there's light. And when there's winter, there's spring. That is our world. That is life. So is love, I believe. When there's happiness, there's misfortune. When there's misfortune, there's happiness. Happiness is not the only treasure I expect inside the chest. I have simply chosen to open it.” 

Tremor evaporated from Lunark as her speech carried on. 

The pair of pink diamonds on her face was sparkling with conviction instead of credulity, with confidence instead of arrogance. 

“It doesn't matter how stormy our path will be. No howl of rain or avalanche of water will make us release each other's hand. So please, put your faith in us and watch us. Nothing can stop us, as long as we're together.”

Tremor was gone from Muzaka as well, by the end of her deliverance.

But the werewolf lord's mouth was fixed in its place, not even as much as mumbling what is winding in his head. 

And Frankenstein's patience was on a strike for the day. 

“If this is how things will be, I will expend one of my wishes right now.”

Lunark merely let her head lean on her shoulder, clueless about Frankenstein's so-called wish. 

In devastating contrast, Muzaka's eyes tumbled up and down, in overwhelming disbelief of what he had just heard. 

“You said you will grant me any wish, as long as it's in an earthly power. I hereby state my first wish - I want you to be the carrier of banner in support of our relationship.” 

Muzaka shook his head, while Frankenstein eyed Lunark as a promise of details after this. 

“For the love of wolves, I bet no one can best you when it comes to stabbing my sanity at the least expected moment. How can you pull that one from under your sleeve right at...” 

“So? Are you saying you can't?” 

“...Of course not. I gave you my word. It only makes sense for me to keep it. But you don't need a reminder of what would happen if you so as much as even drive her to tears, do you?” 

Muzaka half-heartedly laid out his warning, to which the pair responded with a beam. 

A beam that ultimately urged a smile from Muzaka, which turned out to be short-lived thanks to Frankenstein's follow-up. 

“And allow me to use my second wish. I need you to give Lunark holidays right now. Two months would do it.” 

“Say what?! You can't demand it without any prior dis...” 

“I already had a discussion. We already had one.” 

“No, I meant...! Okay, sure, talking to Lunark is one thing, but you didn't discuss it with...!” 

Muzaka could not even finish his words, before he pushed the palm of his hand into his forehead. 

He knew nothing can beat Frankenstein when he is in his deal-with-it-for-all-I-care mode. 

“No wonder Lunark is dressed like that. This is what you had in mind?” 

“Obviously. Lunark's duties are not impossible at the hands of other warriors, are they? Not to mention Union can only watch themselves as the result of the recent trouble at Seoul; their manpower has already dwindled before the event. Which is why this would be the perfect time for Lunark to enjoy a vacation.” 

Peaceful was his voice, but Frankenstein was basically rubbing - no, stabbing into Muzaka's face that he is more than willing to have a discussion involving fists and claws if he is not to issue a pass from the office for Lunark.

Soon enough, the werewolf lord nodded and waved his hand. 

“Fine. I'll make sure Lunark's absence will not hinder us for the next two months. Now run along. Be free.” 

“My gratitude, my lord.” 

“Much appreciated, Lord Muzaka.” 

Frankenstein and Lunark bowed and turned to leave, but then Muzaka unzipped his lips after a bit of delay. 

“Lunark.” 

“Yes, sir?” 

A momentary silence captured Muzaka, gazing at Lunark with her body rotated halfway towards him. 

“Nothing. You look beautiful today.” 

Replied Muzaka, his lips curled into a somewhat nostalgic, wistfully affectionate curves. 

'Ashleen... Eileen...' 

As soon as Lunark and Frankenstein left with a brief smile, Muzaka scooched into his throne, to resummon the scent ghosting within his heart. 

Lunark had no fear for winter or darkness, as long as she had Frankenstein with her, so she claimed. 

It was reminiscent of his stance when he met Eileen. And when he had Ashleen. 

A stance that was closed off into a tragedy. 

Nevertheless, for some reason he could not help feeling this will not be the same for the two of them. 

Which is why in reality, he had been smiling inwardly as Lunark was speaking in defense of their relationship. 

And he was about to give in to their protest, which was preceded by Frankenstein's use of his wishes. 

'Looks like my clan is now walking towards an actual change. Eileen... Ashleen... How I wish I could have met you two in this era.' 

Regret cannot undo or do what is done or not done. 

For now, the only thing he can do is to light up his hope for the future and pray for luck. 

So that one day, relationship between humans and werewolves will be but part of daily life. 

'I know you two can do it. So just stay the way you are, loving and beautiful.' 

*****

Few days later, KSA headquarter 

“What's up? I'd thought we've still got time until the departure.” 

Yuigi was checking her bag for one last time, before she turned towards her visitor. 

“Are you sure you won't regret this?” 

“Of course I'm sure. You don't take me for some toddler, do you? I think you've gotten your standards too high, now that you're way out of the Union agents' league, including mine. You seem to have forgotten how I used to lounge at the top of the pyramid called the Union.” 

“That's not what I...” 

Takio could not hide his disappointment. 

They had previously plotted a scenario of signing her name on the list of tenants at Frankenstein's house. 

He was expectant to see her impeccably freed from the shadow of the Union, to relish an ordinary life. 

And she knew what he was thinking. 

Yuigi had been lost. 

She had been lost between her life as Yuigi of Cerberus and her long-lost life as Raciela, like a frog unwelcome at both the earth and the water. 

But now she was even convinced that the reason why she had been lost, crouched without direction and assurance, was simply to hop higher than she could ever pull off in the past. 

“I'll be fine. I have found the new direction in my life. Now it's my duty to dedicate myself to my new mission and pay for my days at the Union. So don't worry and be faithful to your ordinary life. Do that for me. Besides, it's not like this is the last time we'll ever see each other. We'll be talking on designated basis, and I'll drop by whenever I need maintenance on my kits. I'll see you then.” 

Takio's disquiet disappeared as he listened to her. 

He was relieved. 

She may not be able to take on an ordinary life, but there is no need to worry about or be sorry for her. 

She just proved that she has landed upon the new agenda of her life as well as a respite of heart, and that was good enough for him. 

“I like the coffee from that cafe we visited. I'll make sure to buy you back. So wait for it.” 

And that was when Yuigi - that was when Raciela smiled. 

For the first time, she smiled a smile full of a human heart, no longer an artificial sneer. 

*****

“You ready?” 

The 3rd Elder greeted Raciela upon her entrance to the KSA rooftop.

The white-haired man was donning a long coat identical to hers, hooded and furnished with a heavy backpack, surrounded by Tao, M-21, Taesik, the doctor, Yeonsu, Sangin, and Raizel, whose phone was connected live-time to Lascrea and the heads of noble clans standing in the Lord's Hall. 

Then at last, the last of the gang made their arrival. 

“Boss!” 

“...Lunark?” 

“What are you doing here...?” 

Lunark's feet effortlessly glided upon the rooftop, and the 3rd Elder made a stiff, awkward recognition with his eyes, in acknowledgment of the length of hiatus in their encounters. 

Pow!!! 

At then the werewolf lashed out an unwarned punch, driving the man right to the edge of the building. 

“M-miss Lunark! He's no longer sturdy enough to...” 

“Handle my power. Yes, yes. I know. I knew that. My fist knew that. I heard how his perfection as a cyclist has been undermined, to the point that he now needs training wheels to ride a bike. Which is why I made sure you wouldn't get to hold a funeral for that guy.” 

She was telling the truth, the 3rd Elder realized, as he put himself back on his feet, rubbing a side of his face. 

His face did throb, so hard that he wanted to stick his hand and rummage through his head to check and see if his brain is intact. 

Contrary to the pain, the only damage he suffered was abrasion that would take less than a minute for recovery. 

Plus, he could see how Frankenstein was smirking behind Lunark, his arms crossed. 

He and Frankenstein did have a word about his betrayal, which ended - sort of - with apology and forgiveness. 

Apparently such process did not completely rinse off the grudge, and the 3rd Elder had no say in this matter. 

He knew he deserved it; actually, he deserved more, he thought. 

<Are you sure you will have no regrets?> 

Lascrea's question chimed through the phone. 

It was a rare occasion for her to start off a conversation with a voluntary question. 

And not a syllable or a vowel has changed with the 3rd Elder's answer. 

“I'm positive. This is what I must do. I must pay for the choice I made out of fear. And for the losses and sacrifices I called upon as a result.” 

When he held Helga's hand, the 3rd Elder was full of fear. 

He feared his followers' sacrifices, the Union's labor, and his tears would be wrong. 

He feared his followers, the Union, and he would be wrong. 

Wrong, fruitless, and in vain. 

However, now he has accepted the truth. 

He accepted that his followers, the Union, and he were wrong. 

He accepted that he has been forcing himself to be deaf and blind to the truth that had been with him since long ago. 

“The Union was originally based on the human crusade for the welfare of mankind. I admit the Union's standing point and pathway have been lethally distorted for the past few centuries. So now it's only logical to cleanse the Union's orbit and spend its final resources and manpower for what is truly meant for humans. So now there is only one thing the Union must do - making itself gone for the sake of mankind, and thereby protecting the ordinary world for the ordinary souls. And I shall take my responsibility for the past, the misdeeds, and the sin of the Union. And for the calamity at Seoul.”

Quoted the 3rd Elder, in solemn announcement of his motive for repentance. 

“I'm afraid I can't set for you the date, but once the last shade of the Union is wiped off clean... I will gladly hand over my life. I know I am being more than shameless, but please, I'd like to ask you to wait until then.” 

And he gave his word that he will never again betray these people. 

He will never again betray the mankind. 

He will never again betray himself. 

The white-haired Icarus who blindly coveted the sun's position was saved from his plummet towards the sea by these people - those endeavoring to protect ordinary life - as well as the ordinary people. 

The moment his steps were about to carry him off the concrete floor, the 3rd Elder whispered an addition. 

“...Benjamin.” 

All eyes and ears perked up at an unfamiliar name. 

“It's Benjamin now. That is my true name. The name I shall answer to from now on.” 

Sheepish but true, that was the smile from Benjamin. 

That was the last of himself he exhibited before taking himself and Raciela away towards the horizon. 

And Frankenstein was the one to break the still that lingered. 

“You okay? Let me see your hand.” 

He inspected her hand, his every contour and plane dripping concern.

“Aww, maybe I should have loosened up a bit. My hand stings a little.” 

Lunark stage-whined, sticking out her hand free of any speck, let alone a wound. 

A sight that gave the spectators an illusionary impression of watching how their sanity was being burned alive. 

“We need to talk about this. When did they end up... Like that?” 

“By 'like that,' are you referring to what I'm thinking?” 

“Probably. Did you see his face when Miss Lunark punched Mr. Benjamin? He appeared ecstatic... And enamored. By her.” 

“But is it just me, or do they actually look great together?”

After indulging in a brief moment of fluff and endearment, Frankenstein turned to face the crowd. 

“Now why don't we scatter? We must go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Go out for our very first date.” 

All listening mouths fell open at the fall of a four-character vocabulary they fathomed not even a pact with the devil could pull out from his throat. 

That is, all mouths except for Raizel's lips. 

Frankenstein made a serene smile as he met Raizel in the eyes, a sign that he had made his choice. 

“I shall see you later, master.” 

As always, Raizel responded with a gracefully breezy smile. 

It did not take long for the rest of the audience to catch up with their atmosphere, curl the corners of their cheeks, and shower the two in celebration. 

“To be honest, I was wondering when you two will officiate it.” 

“Congratulations, Mr. Ex-Chairman.” 

<Please send Lunark my regards. And those of my heads of clans.> 

Not losing their focus on each other even a bit in the middle of the pleasant commotion, Lunark and Frankenstein jumped towards the streets. 

*****

“Look. They're talking about the Noblesse's ex-sanctuary, aren't they?” 

Lunark asked, her finger pointing a huge screen covering a facet of a building at the Gwanghwamun Square. 

Frankenstein nodded after reading the headline, of the breaking news that the international environmental facilities and institutions have selected the Bermudan Treasure Chest as a special protection site, to perform and engage in extensive protection. 

“Aren't you disappointed? You wanted to collect his power from that place.” 

She was alluding to the proposal he made on the day she revealed the secret behind the resurrections following the nuclear missile incident. 

The proposal on retrieving Raizel's power from his ex-sanctuary to replenish him was denied, due to the theory that taking away Raizel's power might lead to extinction of life at the place, since his power has already made itself a cradle, manna, and haven for the local marine creatures. 

“Humans are now working together to save that place. So one day, things will settle down. Let's tell ourselves things will settle down.” 

“At times like this, I feel perhaps humans are not hopelessly hopeless. Humans can be cannibalistic and destructive with their surroundings for the sake of their good, but on the other hand they know how to be altruistic and protective of the world. If I never knew you, I would have never known.” 

Frankenstein gasped a laughter at her bashful comment. 

“Now that's an honor. Speaking of which, I'd like to teach you more. For example, how human fare with their lives. How you can spend a daily life in the human world. What do you say?” 

“Great. Please do. Teach me how humans... How a couple share an ordinary day.” 

Lunark's words were confident, yet her face was blushing. 

Frankenstein held her hand, his mouth arched in a gentle smile. 

They knew they cannot make any promise on their future. 

Just like how they did not expect the breaking news of the day. 

They cannot tell what will be waiting for their discovery tomorrow. Or in an hour. 

Still, they promised themselves and each other that they will devote themselves to this day to the best of their abilities. 

They will hold their hands and be true to their love. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Frankenstein's and Lunark's hearts serenaded a duet of dazing flutter, as they walked into the crystal-clear sunlight illuminating their path to the ordinary life. 

And the day could not be sunnier. 

(Illustration by. RyO - you can find her DeviantArt page here)

I’m so sorry it took much longer for me to post this chapter. I was working on another series that I’m about to submit for a competition, and I had no idea it’s way past my usual posting time. I’m terribly sorry about the delay - what a way to wrap up the series. :’(

At last... My fanfic has reached its conclusion! I posted the first chapter of this fic on April of 2020, and it took me roughly a year and 4 months to finish it. And for the first time in years, I’m having a mixture of emotions cascading upon me as I write my final postscript, including but not limited to elation, bittersweetness, ruefulness, etc.

I made a lot of discoveries on what I lack as a writer throughout my journey with this fic. I had much more stories to include on my mind (most notably the relationship between Rael and Seira) but I had to delete them all from my outline for the sake of word count and constancy with the main topic of this fic. I might recollect them and write about them as a sequel to this fic, but right now I can’t think of any plot that I would find satisfying. And it would take a long time for me to land on a storyline that I would be confident in, enough for me to compose a fic with. And as the number of chapters grew, I ended up making mistakes regarding the details and plot. I remember how with chapter 68, I didn’t notice beforehand how I made several fatal mistakes that could compromise readers’ comprehension of the story, and I had to edit it for at least 3 times. Not to mention the story got kind of loose and lost its tempo over time. I happen to be working on a separate series (which has nothing to do with Noblesse) on a Korean website, and I’m having trouble with it due to the loose contents. This fic gave me an opportunity to look back on what I need to work on as a writer, and I will certainly do that. 

On the other hand, this fic did not leave me fruitless. I think I did a pretty good job and could gain a lot of experience on making story-wise allusions and references throughout chapters, to weave separate scenes together and thus bind 70 chapters into a wholesome series. Most importantly, I’m satisfied with how I could make use of and investigate my personal interpretations and creations on what was left after the final chapter of the original webtoon (such as the reason why those that were engaged in the nuclear missile incident could make it back to life, the faint-but-surely-there romance between Rai and Lascrea, the last of the Union after its destruction, and most of all the relationship between Lunark and Frankenstein).

In all, I gained a lot of regrets while writing this fic, but above all I am happy with my creation since I managed to write about everything I want in the exact way I wanted.

My tremendous gratitude for those of you who have been staying with me throughout this fic. It was not perfect, and it came with a lot of words to read, but I thank each and every one of you readers out there for visiting my fic. Although I happen to be busy with an independent project of mine, one day I’d like to bring another Noblesse fic for you, short or not.

Once again, thank you so much for enjoying my fic so far. Thank you, and that is all! :)

[ad1thi]

@starklysteve  rhae asked for some winteriron recs (read: i volunteered to spam rhae w buckytony fics because i adore them), so in no particular order, and based on my memory alone, here are some of my favourite buckytony fics!!

(please remember to leave kudos and comments!!)

American Memorial: @/spqr

“Pick up the shield,” Tony said. Understandably, Bucky told him to go fuck himself

Losing You (Is My Supervillain Origin Story):  @amethystinawrites

There are a lot of things that Bucky regrets. The list is, quite frankly, longer than he can handle on most days and, right at the very top, is lying to Tony about who killed his parents. Bucky has known even from before they started dating, but he simply can't bring himself to say anything — to ruin one of the few good things he has in his life. It's selfish and wrong, but Bucky just doesn't know how to tell Tony that he is the one responsible for Howard and Maria Stark's deaths.

So when he starts receiving anonymous emails, threatening to expose the truth to Tony and the rest of the world, Bucky is desperate enough to agree to the blackmailer's terms, even if it means breaking up with Tony. Bucky cannot, under any circumstances, let Tony find out about his parents from anyone but Bucky himself.

Too late Bucky realizes that there is much more to the blackmailer's scheme than just having Bucky break Tony's heart. Too late Bucky realizes that despite his best intentions, he will still end up losing everything — in a much more permanent way than he could ever have imagined.

Hindsight: @amethystinawrites

Ever since he was a little boy, Bucky has dreamed of becoming an astronaut together with Steve, and he can hardly believe their luck when both of them are picked for the Ares 3 crew — the third expedition sent to explore Mars. It is, quite literally, a dream come true.

Things get complicated when Bucky finds himself inconveniently attracted to their mechanical engineer, however. Tony Stark is funny, competent, and absolutely captivating, but considering NASA's strict non-fraternization policy, Bucky knows it's better to keep his interest to himself — at least until they return to Earth. He can wait.

Not once does Bucky consider the possibility that all of them might not make it back alive, or just how much he'll come to regret not acting when he had the chance.

Arsenal: @tangodancer91 (part of a series) (also my all time favourite buckytony series ever)

Two years after the Civil War that tore apart everything she’d bled to build, Toni Stark sacrificed herself for her newly-reinstated teammates and ended up stranded in the past. Freed of her name, her fortune, and her hostile ex-teammates, she built herself a life as an agent for the OSS, the American secret service, and, having nothing to lose, accepted a mission to infiltrate the newest player in the war: an organization that call themselves HYDRA.

Then, she met a young draftee with a dreadfully familiar face, and they clicked like she had never clicked with anyone before. By the time she realized she’d fallen for the man who’d cost her everything, it was too late, but she’d always been an all or nothing type of girl, and if she was damning herself, well then…might as well go all the way.

Yield: @aurumacadicus (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

All Bucky has ever wanted was to win the contest for Tony's hand in marriage. It's a bit harder now that he's down to one arm, but luckily his friends are willing to help make up the difference.

Barnes Family Motors Inc: @phlintandsteel-ao3 (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

In a world where alphas legally own omegas, Bucky is just a small time mechanic from Brooklyn who gets lucky in a poker game. Tony is an omega whose life is fraught with abuse, until his luck suddenly takes a turn for the better.

In the grand scheme of things they may only be able to make little differences in the lives of those around them, but that doesn't mean it's not worth making them. After all, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

The Long Con (don’t kid yourself): @phlintandsteel-ao3

When Tony finds out that Howard is thinking about changing the terms of Tony’s trust fund, he embarks on a not-so-elaborate scheme to prove that he’s totally settling down and not in continued need of Howard’s “guidance” until 25 instead of 21. Step 1: Get a fiance Step 2: ??? Step 3: Profit (Finally be free of Howard)

Unfortunately, Tony Stark is the worst con-artist ever, and may only be kidding himself..

Hot Mess:  @/niki

“Would serve him right if we had the world's most ill-advised one night stand.”

Imperceptions and Assumptions: @/NarutoRox

Afterward, Bucky would look back on their first meeting with fondness and a healthy dose of amusement. At the time, though, he’d mostly been confused - and more than a little embarrassed.

Bucky hadn’t paid much attention to the media in his early days, and hadn’t bothered really reading up on the team or anything, either, so when Steve had said ‘Tony Stark’, Bucky had just assumed.

The same way he’d looked at the three people who’d walked through the door - an imposing redhead in heels, a bored-looking brunette who dimpled when she saw him and Steve, and a sturdy-looking man wearing a slight glower - locked eyes on the man, and assumed him to be the infamous Tony Stark Steve wouldn’t shut up about.

It was Bucky’s first lesson when it came to Natasha Antonia ‘Toni’ Stark - never assume.

~

In which Tony Stark is actually Natasha Antonia 'Toni' Stark (which everyone knows) as well as Iron Man (which everyone does not know), assumptions are made, and there are misunderstandings.

From this prompt: How about a cross between my two favorite tropes? Nobody knows who iron man is other than Natasha/Antonia Stark's bodyguard but Bucky is in love with one or both of them

i know, you know (that i’m not telling the truth) : @imposter-human

psychic tony stark is called to work a routine case with detective bucky barnes; only, he seems to be more connected to the case than anyone thought

or, a psych au!!

the new romeo and juliet: @imposter-human

Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

if found, please return to: @capnshellhead

Tony Stark shows up at Bucky's bar after a really tough break up and Bucky decides to look after him

gods of carnage:  @deathsweetqueen (part of a series)

On May 29, 1970, the Winter Soldier feels a burning sensation and looks down at his wrist to find a single name written in enduring ink: Antonia Margaret Stark.

HYDRA, fearing the defiance of their greatest asset due to a bond that cannot and will not be denied its due, immediately dispatches the Soldier, to locate, collect and deliver this newborn girl to HYDRA, which will become her new home, her new family and her entire world - to be raised as another one of HYDRA’s great warriors: their Engineer.

But the Engineer is a faulty asset. She thinks things that may get her killed one day. She wants things that she shouldn’t, that are not hers to want. She has a mind and body that belong more to herself than any handler, than any commander she may have.

And if she cuts her strings, when she cuts her strings, well, when you put sheep next to wolves, you ask for a bloodbath.

where i walk, you follow (where i burn, you burn):  @deathsweetqueen

At his father's command, Anthony Stark trades in his northern keep for a southern crown, wedded and bedded by Alexander of House Pierce, First of His Name.

Tony does his duty, becomes a wolf in name only, toothless and clawless, and a dark, gleaming ornament for the King, even if he would make himself a widower a hundred times over.

Honour demanded it of him, and so he did.

But it is Ser James Barnes, named the Kingslayer for his sins during the Rebellion, that draws his eye, gives him comfort in this pit of liars and monsters

So, what is honour compared to a good man's love? They are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.

[Fic by deathsweetqueen, Art by MassiveSpaceWren]

Cat Parenting (And Other Meet Cutes):  @singingwithoutwords (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Of all the ways Bucky could have finally gotten a chance to speak to his crush, why did it have to be his cat getting Tony's cat pregnant?

Codename Heartbreaker:  @rinnwrites (part of a series)

Today was a day that, contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark had most certainly not been looking forward to. It was election day, or election night, rather, and the polls were closed, the results were in; Howard Stark was the next President of the United States of America.

or

Tony Stark Bingo - R3: Election Day

Fate Strings Not Required: @akira-of-the-twilight

“Hey doll,” a new voice said from Tony’s side.

Tony glanced at the person approaching.

Someone was working the rugged, bad boy look. The new guy rocked a leather jacket and blue jeans.

His blue eyes lit up with joy as he approached Tony. “Something wrong here?” The new guy gave the first guy--the one insisting he was Tony's soul mate--a once over then turned his full attention on Tony. “You’re looking a little stressed, anything I can do?”

Tony took the hint.

Tony wrapped his hand around the new guy’s elbow. He kept his touch light and breakable in case he’d misread the cue.

“Just some guy claiming to be my soul mate, babe.”

The new guy’s eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise. He chuckled and gave the first guy a smirk. “Strange. Last time I checked we were soul mates.”

Siren’s Treasure: @akira-of-the-twilight

Prompt: I really love the idea of playboy!Bucky flirt of the seven seas first-mate to Captain Rogers, falling completely overboard in love with our Blacksmith-Inventor Inexperienced!Tony who goes from confident captive to shy woe-begone man in the presence of Bucky's fierce affections. Virgin!Tony wonders what a siren like Bucky could possibly want with him. Bucky wants to know what the fuck Logan thinks he's doing flirting with the man who stole his heart like sunken treasures. Happy ending please?

“Sirens killed your crew?” Steve repeated.

The dark haired man nodded. Just an hour ago the Avenger crew had found the man clinging to driftwood in the middle of the ocean. Now he clutched the flask of rum Bucky had given him like it was all that kept him buoyant during these tumultuous times.

The man—Tony—had already downed more than half the flask and was still sober. “Not exactly my crew, but close enough. Yeah.” Tony uncapped the flask and threw back a mouthful.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Tony shrugged. “I wasn’t captain of the ship.”

“So what were you?” Steve pressed.

Road hazards: @riotwritesthings

Steve and Bucky's BFF road trip is not going well. For starters, Steve couldn't even make it, and for some bizarre reason asked Tony to take his place. The fact that it’s only a couple days before someone is trying to kill them isn’t nearly as stressful as the fact that Bucky and Tony have never really had an actual conversation.

It’s hard to avoid someone when stuck in a car with them though, and if they manage to stay alive they just might learn a thing or two.

Once Upon a Wintertime: @iam93percentstardust (this is an a/b/o verse fic)

Look, Bucky knows that he’s fulfilling every cliché in the book right now. He knows that, as a bodyguard, he’s not supposed to fall in love with his client. But Tony’s good and sweet and so, so lonely and how could Bucky not? He thinks he’s got a shot after Tony breaks up with his boyfriend but on a trip across the country, he finds out that Tony needs a bondmate or the board will steal SI—and Ty’s already said yes.

little bird: @thxngam

Bucky laughs, and it’s loud and unbidden, a way he hadn’t laughed for years before, tugging his giggling omega into his lap. Tony quiets and nestles into Bucky’s chest like he was made to belong there, and Bucky has noticed several times that Tony is much smaller than he is, but he never quite noticed how Tony always seemed to curl into him as a reason for his size.

Tony nestles like a little bird.

Teenage Dream:  @anthonyed

Tony Stark develops a crush on the school's bad boy who is too cool to hang out with anyone. At least, it's what Tony thinks. He never considered that James Barnes is probably as lonely as he is.

(in the process of editing)

The Best Laid Plans (of Mice and Men):  @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

A Kitten and a Soldier: @/ThatDamnKennedyKid

Bucky hadn't heard from Rumlow in years - since the whole Winter Soldier fiasco in Siberia. They've been discharged for nearly six years, but when he gets a message that only says "I need your help" , he grabs his jacket and keys.

The Prince’s Bride: @hddnone

After Tony loses the love of his life to pirates on the high sea, not much matters to him. He agrees to wed Prince Justin Hammer to gain access to vibranium and shut himself away in his workshop until the end of time, but a group of ruffians kidnap Tony to take him to Hydra.

Tony's rescue takes on an unlikely form - the Dread Pirate Rogers, who killed the love of his life five years ago.

A Princess Bride AU

A Kind of Destiny: @weethreequarter

A chance meeting at a wedding brings together an American war veteran and the Prince of Wales. Little do they know, the wheels have been set in motion for a relationship which will change not only their lives, but the monarchy itself. Bucky and Tony strike up a friendship at Steve and Peggy’s wedding, a friendship that soon develops into more. But it’s not so simple: Tony is the Prince of Wales, and heir to the throne of Great Britain and the United Kingdom. Any relationship is played out in the press and public eye, and then there's that pesky issue of succession to consider too. But Bucky is no coward, and when he finds something he wants, he’s prepared to fight for it. And fight he will, at Tony's side, for their very own fairy tale ending.

[cap-ironman]

2019 Cap-Iron Man Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts Creators Reveals & Masterpost

This year we had 68 wonderful works submitted for our event! Thank you all very much for participating in all kinds of ways: writing, arting, submitting the prompts for the Community Gifts, cheerleading the creators, and beta-reading! We hope you had lots of fun. And here, finally, is the full event masterlist revealing the creators of each work! Please remember to mind the tags and warnings at each individual work page, and leave kudos and comments on the works you've enjoyed! ★ And she saw the case, but she saw him first by Lets_call_me_Lily for ishipallthings (3490/Noir, Art)

Natasha Stark, head of Stark Investigations. Taking on hopeless cases, and sometimes giving hope in return.

★ Antoine Stargaze by HogwartsToAlexandria for frosted_astronaut (MCU AU, 2049 Words)

Where boys are smitten, and Natasha nudges Steve just enough.

★ Beautiful Lie by jayjayverse for SweetFanfics (Ults, 8560 Words)

Antonia Stark breaks with all the conceptions Steve has about women. She is everything he never thought he wanted or desire in a person, in fact he didn't even consider her waking up in this century, she was simply a teammate.

★ beautiful stranger by ohjustpeachy for ShadowsintheClouds (MCU, 2198 words)

Both Tony and Steve grow up thinking the other is dead. When they first meet in Avengers 1 there are tears and everyone is really confused until they realize that the two are soulmates.

★ Blank Spaces by only_more_love for starksnack (MCU,  3023 Words)

Steve discovers that not everything in this unfamiliar century he's woken up in is bad. Maybe there's a place for him in it, after all.

★ Brewed Awakening by iam93percentstardust for  Nixie_DeAngel (MCU, 16545 Words)

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

★ By Any Name by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU AU, 1017 Words)

The world of spies is not kind on love.

★ Compatibility, Interrupted by MK_Yujji for Areiton (MCU, 2177 Words)

Steve gave up on soulmates after his transformation. He certainly didn't expect to find his in the future.

★ Even After All Those Years? by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (Noir, 743 Words)

Their eyes meet across the crowd. They never thought they would ever see each other again.

★ Everything Goes to Hell Anyway by dirigibleplumbing for navaan (1872, 15796 Words)

A visitor to Timely is killed, and Tony is the main suspect. Steve has no doubt of Tony’s innocence, but more strangers still are in town looking for a mysterious book, and Mayor Fisk’s boys are up to no good. It isn't long before everything goes to hell.

★ A Farm for the Horny and the Desperate by HogwartsToAlexandria for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1738 Words)

The one where Tony walks in on Steve masturbating at Clint's farm.

★ from your secret santa by avengersincamphalfbloodstardis for SevereLove51 (MCU, 4775 Words)

The year is 2012 and all of the Avengers have moved into the tower. The holidays are coming up and it's the perfect time for each teammate to get to know another as well as they can. So of course, they do secret santa. When Tony gets Steve, he panics. How is he supposed to find a gift for the amazing Captain America?

★ For Science by HogwartsToAlexandria for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1334 Words)

For the comm prompt- After a not-so-great night out with a girl, Steve confides to Tony that he thinks he’s not a very good kisser. Tony, of course, offers to practice with him.

★ Giddy-up Cowgirl by CaughtAGhost for Cap Iron Man Community (1872, Art)

A community fill for: "genderbent AU in a more idyllic West, though Steve still struggles with the responsibilities of sheriff and Tony is even more underestimated as the town's drunk blacksmith"

★ the heart of this flower imagines by diskarte for MK_Yujji (MCU AU, 4269 Words)

Steve isn’t really paying attention to anything when something red catches his eye: a petal. He looks down at his lap and picks it up. He’s contemplating the petal, glancing around to see where it could’ve come from, when an unfamiliar feeling wells up inside him and he coughs. He hasn’t coughed in years, not after the serum. He looks down. On his lap: more petals.

★ here comes the sun by Nasa for hundredthousands (MCU, 6884 words)

Steve and Tony meet at Woodstock. It's not the smoothest of starts for their friendship.

★ Hidden Words by ShadowsintheClouds for Padraigen (MCU, 17854 words)

In a world where someone's soul name is held in great regard, Steve is forced to grow up hiding his, lest he and his soulmate get hurt for it. He tries his best to keep things hidden, but when he goes into the ice and braces for death he inadvertently reveals his soul name to those who find him years later. Will Steve have to continue hiding or will he finally get a chance at safety and happiness

★ hologram blue by laireshi for navaan (616, 2069 Words)

During the Superhero Civil War, Tony gets haunted by hallucinations of Steve.

★ A Hook-Up by navaan for Sadisticsparkle (Noir, 1250 Words)

Private Rogers is looking for a bit of male company and gets more than he bargained for.

★ The Hot Guy Has A Tail? by betheflame for BeenAsleepFor70Years (MCU AU, 1506 Words)

Tony was used to hallucinating. Well, maybe not used to it, but certainly not unfamiliar with it. But he hadn’t taken any shrooms in days, and he’d actually slept more than 2 hours the night before, so the logical conclusion to what he was seeing was that it was actually happening. The hot guy he’d been ogling from his Intro to Western Civ class for months was in the pool. And he had a tail. The hot guy from Western Civ had a tail.

★ I Saw Cap Kissing Santa Claus by Mizzy for Cathalinaheart (616, 7222 Words)

When Tony dressed as Santa for Queen County Hospital's annual toy drive, he wasn't expecting Steve to recognize him...as Iron Man.

★ I still like your smile (even if it's filled with teeth) by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle) for diabla616 (616, 6186 Words)

It has been a lifetime since Tony last saw the Mansion and the Avengers, but his relationship with Steve is as confusing as ever. They're still sleeping together, they're still officially friends and now he's lost in a magical forest with a wolf tracking his every move. He hates magic.

★ In the Comfort of Your Arms by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Gryvon (MCU, Art)

Steve and Tony take a few days to themselves after a hard battle.

★ Inevitable Outcome by cptxrogers for Cap Iron Man Community (Ults, 2499 Words)

Tony can't believe that his team has locked him in a closet with Steve, ostensibly to relieve the sexual tension between them. He's surprised they would stoop that low, but he's even more surprised that Steve seems to be up for it.

★ Jurassic times call for Jurassic measures by Fluffypanda for marumo (Avengers Assemble, 3544 Words)

A trip to the Savage Land goes very, very wrong.

★ last call by gottalovev for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 5640 Words)

Tony didn’t prepare for Steve calling first. It's been thirteen months, why now?

★ lead up the garden path by gottalovev for nasa (1872, 5261 Words)

They cannot live openly, but Sheriff Steve Rogers has found love with Tony Stark, Timely's blacksmith and inventor. He thought everything was going well, until their friend Carol Danvers comes back from Washington with her sister Jessica and everything changes.

★ Locker-Room Revelations by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 336 Words)

Tony finds out a secret of Steve's in the locker-room.

★ March 10th, 1964 by SmileAndASong for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1704 Words)

There’s a cake in the fridge. It’s beautiful, at least three layers high, and with an intricate red, white, and blue frosting pattern that perfectly emulates a certain shield. It’s very obvious that it’s for Steve. But why?

★ Media Blitz by Nixie_DeAngel for Fluffypanda (MCU, 1378 words)

“Well, if I hadn’t, Pep pot, we wouldn’t we be reliving the weirdest two weeks of my life. Again,” Tony points out. “And really, that’s saying something considering last year you, Nat, and I got sent to that pleasure planet with bird boys one and two.” “We agreed that would never be spoken of again,” she cuts in, eyes sharpening into a fierce glare. Or, reason number 3 on why Pepper Potts shoulder never be allowed to have a vacation that allows for a media black out while she lounges on a beach by herself.

★ Mistletoe Smoochin’ by BeenAsleepFor70Years for zappedbysnow (AA, Art)

Some mistletoe business between the best boys for zappedbysnow! Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas!

★ A New Day [Art] by Cachette for afincf_tirwer (MCU, Art)

Steve has always seen in greys and blacks. Even before the ice the colours never developed fully, there were hints of colours, mostly blue or red, Bucky's eyes, Peggy's lips but he never saw anything like what was described in the books. The first colour he sees in the 21st century is the bright red and gold of Iron Man, sleek, futuristic and a total mystery.

★ Of matchmaking and failure by afincf_tirwer for iam93percentstardust (MCU AU, 4085 Words)

When the new art teacher arrives, Peter Parker and his friends think he'd make a great match for the school's physics teacher Tony Stark. However, as their plans progress, some things are revealed that throw a wrench in the works and set them up for embarrassment.

★ oh baby I can't even explain by muchmoremajestic for Neverever (AA, 10583 Words)

Prompt: Steve and Tony dance around each other, wanting to ask each other out on a first date, but things keep getting in the way from the random invasions on campus to each of them being nervous/getting in their own way. Or: The five times Steve and Tony tried to ask each other out, and the one time they finally got it together.

★ one may smile and be a villain by CaughtAGhost for jayjayverse (616, Art)

Fill for the prompt: Captain Hydra happens, Tony doesn't go on coma and fight against him. The avengers won, Steve is in prison and Tony decide to erase Hydra before what they did to Steve (and he didnt being capable to find a way to make Steve come back), so he go to every compound of Hydra and destroy them. Until he find something. The archives with all the fail subjects are in one computer, it’s just a little suspicious line of “code names” and information of what happened every single clone, all dead at some stage of growth and then bumps into the last file, still active, shows the background and there is no estimate of life as in the other files, Tony looks for the place where this clone is, flies and destroy everything, take the little baby he found and fly away from there. When Steve (the real one) comes back, a lot of time had passed, the avengers are led by Carol, Tony is an AI and Steve needs to get used to everything one more time.

★ pants on fire by nanasekei  for talesofsuspense (MCU, 9630 Words)

“Look, I’m not thrilled by the prospect of spending my day here either," Nick said, "but there’s no postponing this. We can’t give them a chance to combine stories.” “Right,” Hill said. “And I’m sure they’ll all be very…cooperative.” “Hope you didn’t have any dinner plans." Hill’s sigh mirrored his own so much it was unnerving. “Okay.” She leaned forward and pressed a button on his desk. “Send in the first one.”

★ Patron of the Arts by BladeoftheNebula for diskarte (MCU, 2258 Words)

Steve meets a handsome stranger at an art show.

★ the perfect date by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics) for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 5638 Words)

Tony needs an alpha to be his date for a fancy shing-ding. He asks Steve, who says yes. And then Tony's heat strikes early.

★ Phish Food and Cheez Whiz by starksnack for HogwartsToAlexandria (MCU AU, 2584 Words)

Tony's afraid he'll be a bad father, Steve disagrees. + they have sex.

★ Possession by marumo for meshkol (616, Art)

Prompt "Hydra/Villain Steve decides he wants Iron Man, by any means necessary."

★ Presents by Neverever for BladeoftheNebula (1872, 2648 Words)

For their first Christmas together, Sheriff Rogers doesn't know what to get his partner, Mr. Stark.

★ Public Displays of Affection by navaan for Westernwood11 (616, 2265 Words)

It's not a good day when AIM and Hydra come for them at the same time... Things get away from them in the heat of the moment.

★ ride [FANART] by cap_ironman_event_mod for Blaithin (616, Art)

stevetony motorbike gang au

★ Save Your Kisses For Me by ishipallthings for avengersincamphalfbloodstardis (MCU, 3197 Words)

It’s nearly Christmas, and Steve Rogers’ biggest problem is that he’s terrible at keeping his new relationship with Tony under wraps. Oh, and he still needs to find the perfect Christmas present for Tony. That is, until Tony gets hurt on a mission without Steve. Then Steve has a new problem.

★ Say It First by talesofsuspense for SmileAndASong (Ults, 1788 Words)

Steve doesn’t know how to say what he wants, but Tony knows what he means anyway.

★ Shakey-Shake Globe Land by starksnack for Cap Iron Man Community (AU, ART)

Have some art! Happy holidays!!!

★ A Shove in the Right Direction by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 877 Words)

Everyone was sick of it, but he was the only one ready to do something about it.

★ Snow Bunnies by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 1500 Words)

Steve finds a way to get some fun out of a winter chore.

★ Snow Wolf by talesofsuspense for Cap Iron Man Community (Any, Art)

Capwolf having fun in the snow.

★ The Soldier and the Man of Iron by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU AU, 202 Words)

Steve is a wounded soldier looking for his lost brother. He stumbles across Stark Tower looking for shelter.

★ Steve's Secret by Neverever for Cachette (MCU, 2911Words)

Steve has been sketching Tony since they met. But Steve will never have a chance with Tony, who is so far out of his league. Even though Tony seems to really like his new sweaters.

★ Strings Attach, We Conquer by HogwartsToAlexandria for betheflame (MCU AU, 7235 Words)

Steve and Tony have been together and mated for about a year when the questions of their pack become a little more - too - insistent and it's time to lift the veil on a secret that has led all of them to wrongly presume of their bond. Decisions and celebrations happen.

★ Take me away, I don't mind by diabla616 for gezhu (Ults, 2359 words)

Steve hates the 21st Century - it's lonely and he's still not over what he's lost from his own time. So when the Ultimates missions keep throwing the possibility of time-travel into his day, well, he has to try. Or: all the times Steve tried to use a villain's time-travel device to go back to the past, and the one time he chose to stay in the future.

★ Through the Drinking Glass by Cathalinaheart for gottalovev (1872, 1820 words)

It's the anniversary of Bucky's death and a drunk Sheriff shows up at Tony's door in the middle of the night.

★ A Timely Rescue by vorkosigan for Cap Iron Man Community (1872, 8341  words)

Tony saves Steve's life, but if neither of them says anything about how they feel about each other, Steve will stay in Timely and Tony will fly away to gallivant among the stars, and they may never see each other again. A Firefly AU.

★ Tony, Do You Want My Eggplant? (art) by zappedbysnow for DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) (MCU, Art)

Cap was advised to try gardening for therapy. Now everyone reaps the fruits of his harvest. Especially Tony.

★ the truth, ugly and beautiful by Areiton for alexcat (MCU, 3048 Words)

The truth, ugly and beautiful, is that you loved him.    You love him still.    The truth, ugly and beautiful, is that love was never enough.

★ An Unspeakable Choice by meshkol (ashernorton) for CaughtAGhost (616, 9674 Words)

When Tony and Steve are kidnapped after a mission goes wrong, they are given an unimaginable choice: the death of innocents, or the death of one of them.

★ Untitled by hundredthousands for only_more_love (MCU, 1329 Words)

Tony would say he’s used to seeing himself, but something about this is different.

★ Waiting for You by alexcat for GotTheSilver (MCU, 2559  words)St

eve missed Tony and Tony missed Steve. What if Steve called first?

★ We Did It by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, Art)

When the dust settled and all the fighting was done, they met each other in the middle of all the destruction, coming together after all those years.

★ We'll Cross Paths Again by SevereLove51 for ohjustpeachy (MCU AU, 1930 Words)

Tony Stark is a successful business after he inherited his father’s business. He is invited to a masquerade party hosted by Justin Hammer. As he’s there, he noticed that the bartender looks oddly similar to his high school sweetheart that broke his heart.

★ What Are Friends For by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU AU, 714 Words)

Professor Stark has a crush on the University's new Professor.

★ What the Textbooks Never Told by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (616, 433 Words)

History has a habit of omitting the darker parts of what makes the worlds heroes

★ Where Your Heart Is by gryvon for nanasekei MCU AU, 2582 Words)

Steve has an instant crush on the new kid.

★ The Wings of our Hearts by DarthBloodOrange (DepressingGreenie) for Cap Iron Man Community (MCU, 1278 Words)

Steve and Tony are cursed with wings. Neither of them handle it well.

★ Winin' and Dinin' the Sheriff (Without the Wine) by SmileAndASong for dirigibleplumbing (1872, 4362 Words)

In one night, Tony is finally going to do something that he’s wanted to for a long time. And he'll be something he hasn’t been in an even longer time. It’s a mighty tall order, but if it wins him the heart of the dashing Sheriff Rogers, it’ll be worth it.

★ Your Mind and Your Heart by GotTheSilver for muchmoremajestic (MCU, 7930 Words)

When Tony asks him what he wants for his birthday at the Fourth party he’s throwing, Steve shrugs and says “to get laid,” without even thinking about it. “You—excuse me?” “Shit, I didn’t mean—” Steve can feel his cheeks flush with heat as he realises what he’s said. “Ignore that, really, I’ve had some of Thor’s mead and I—” “That’s a cute excuse, but I know you’ve been drinking Mojitos and, unless Erskine’s science was very very wrong, those don’t affect you. So,” Tony hops up on the counter, the muscles in his arms flexing as he does. “No dice.” “Is there any way I can get you to drop this?”

Were your guesses right? Are you surprised at something? You can post your reactions to the guessing post! And finally, if you participated in the event, feel free to post your work wherever you want now! We will be reblogging every tumblr post tagged with #capimexchange in one of the first five tags. Thank you for a great event, 2019 Holiday Exchange and Community Gifts mods

[borhap-au]

“No one understands”

Part two of Eugene Sledge x Black Reader.

“Courage meant overcoming fear and doing one’s duty in the presence of danger, not being unafraid.” - Eugene Bondurant Sledge

They talked long hours about inequality and the need for change. Neither of them even realized how late it was, until the room was completely empty and Eugene’s friend came to tell them they need to close the coffeehouse. They took their things, thanked the boy and went out of the shop.

“Well, I promised to get you back home safely,” he smiled while Angel shook her head.

“Oh, no. The only person I don’t want to mess with in this world is my dad. And he won’t be happy seeing me with a boy,” she chuckled quietly and he nodded his head.

“I understand,” after he said that, she felt a little bad. The real reason she did not want to let him walk her home, was because she promised her friend she will not be that “stupid.” However, she talked to him for hours and she grew to really like him. She did not want it to be their last meeting.

So she added, “but you know what? I finish my classes at 3 PM tomorrow. How about we meet in the coffeehouse around 3:30? I would like to talk to you some more,” she gave him a warm smile.

“I’d like that. You taught me a lot today. I’d love to find out some more,” he admitted. She fascinated him. Angel gave him a double thumbs up.

“Oh, no worry. I will bring a whole new set of facts and figures tomorrow. I must admit, you were a great student. I’m proud,” she chuckled quietly.

“And you were the best professor I’ve ever had. If only others could talk as interestingly as you do. Learning would be much easier,” he complimented her and she was really happy to receive such a compliment. Some guys complimented on her looks, others liked her personality and sense of humor, but she hardly ever received a compliment about her intelligence, which was the most important thing for her that anyone could point out about her.

“So, do we have an arrangement?” she asked, waiting for his reaction. “Will we see each other tomorrow?”

“Oh, most definitely. I wouldn’t keep a lady waiting,” she smiled in response. They said their goodbyes and each of them went their own way. Eugene turned around a few times to see her again. So did she, right before she turned to a corner she would not see him from, and their eyes met. They both smiled embarrassed. She was the first one to wave at him. He waved back. Then he lost her out of sight.

When he came back home, he kept on thinking about everything she said. Her words resonated in his mind. She was so right, about everything. Before that, he always thought not being a part of a problem was enough. That day he understood how important it was to actually be an active participant in the fight for justice. Fight other than physical, which was the only type they taught him in the military.

The next day he came a little early, as usual. He sat in the same corner and drank his coffee, waiting for her to show up. He really hoped she will not stood him up. He liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Minutes passed by, and she still did not show up in the door of the coffeehouse, despite Eugene observing it closely.

“I’m sorry for being late. They kept me longer in class,” she smiled apologetically, throwing her purse on the chair and sitting next to him.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. I hope you got home safely yesterday,” he started a conversation after the waiter brought her order.

“Yes, I did. It’s pretty close to my neighborhood. We all know each other there, I always feel safe,” she smiled and sipped her coffee.

“The sense of community is always nice,” he said while nodding his head. She wondered whether she should ask that question, but she couldn’t really help herself.

“Just like the army, right?” Angel looked at him biting her lip. She was not the one to be scared of tough conversations. Her topics were usually difficult, since she didn’t like a simple small talk. She wanted her life and her relations to be deeper and more meaningful than just that.

Eugene looked at her surprised, not expecting this kind of question at all. He put his coffee away and took a deep breath.

“You were in the army, weren’t you?” she asked, not wanting to let go that easily. She wanted to get to know him, and his army experience was obviously a huge part of his life.

“Yes, I was. For over three years,” he liked her. He wanted to be honest with her, but it really wasn’t the kind of topic he wanted to explore.

“My friend’s brothers all went to war. Most of them even returned. They enrolled even though their father was doing everything he could to get that idea out of their heads. His own father was born into slavery and he could not understand how could anyone risk their life for a country that enslaved their ancestors, tortured them and raped the women to create more free labor. But they went anyway. You know why?” he shook his head. He had some ideas, but preferred to let her speak. “Because that is their country. It was created on slavery. Slaves made the United States. Not to mention all those asshole who’d say we cannot decide for this country if we didn’t fight for it.”

Eugene nodded his head. He remembered very well all the slurs he heard directed at the Black community. He reacted every time, but unfortunately it rarely changed anything other than the soldiers’ opinion of Sledge.

“Not to mention the Double V. Victory in Europe and victory here. Have you heard about it?” she asked looking at Eugene.

“Yes, actually, I did. I support the cause wholeheartedly. I can’t imagine how it must feel… It’s already hard enough coming home from war, feeling estranged and misplaced. I can’t imagine how it felt for them, coming back to a segregated country that doesn’t even allow you to sit in the front of the bus, even though you risked your life for freedom of that country…” he scoffed and shook his head. “The greatest democracy in the world, fighting with the nationalistic regime of Germany whose segregated country used the US as their role model for that separation.”

She raised her eyebrow and he nodded, confirming what he has just said is true.

“In the 30s, when they were isolating Jews from the rest of the society, they looked at the American model of segregation. I read a report on it. I guess the United States must be really proud to be such a great idol for others,” he said ironically.

“That’s just outrageous…” she sighed and then looked at him. “Can you tell me the stories you have of Black soldiers? I ask this question to anyone I know who went to war.” He hesitated, not being happy about speaking of war, but finally agreed, since he did not have to talk about himself specifically.

“The situation was no better than the one back here. The troops were segregated. At the beginning they didn’t even allow none of the Black men to carry a gun. I guess they were scared of a revolution, or whatever other thing white men thought they obviously deserved for their actions. So the Black men were used for other things. They unpacked the trucks, cooked, drove cars. Only later, when we were short of men, they allowed Black troops to actually fight. A lot of them became great pilots. I really respect their courage, cause after all they fought for a country which doesn’t even treat them like full citizens…”

“’Like actual humans,’ that’s what you wanted to say. You don’t have to be afraid of the truth,” she interrupted him. “It’s because of the Double V. We need justice all over the world, we need to stop racists in America, Europe and everywhere else. We don’t stop here, it’s just a start. We managed to win in Germany, so why not here?” she smiled, and her smile was full of hope that one day things will be better.

“I understand their reasons now. Thank you, it became cleared to me,” Eugene smiled. He already loved listening to her. She spoke with such energy and faith in her cause. “But I have to tell you, their determination was like no other’s. Because I don’t know a single white man who would keep on pushing and trying to get in combat for a country that segregates army’s bathrooms… Hell, they segregated even blood donations! Can you imagine that? As if Black blood was any different from white… I mean, it’s red. It’s blood.” She just shook her head with disapproval and disgust, but she was not surprised at all. What for him was a shocking news, for her was everyday life.

“There’s a great poem, I don’t know if you heard about it. It’s called ‘Beaumont to Detroit’ by Langston Hughes,” she looked at him expecting a reaction, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I never heard of it,” he admitted, ashamed he was not familiar with it. She took a book out of her bag. It was a notebook with a handwritten title: “Poems of Freedom, Justice and Equality.” She opened it on selected page and began to read the poem to him.

“’…I ask you this question/Cause I want to know/How long I got to fight/BOTH HITLER – AND JIM CROW,’” she finished reading the poem and looked at him for reaction. He did not say anything for a long moment.

“That’s… That’s a really good poem. And it touches all the painful spots. I’m just really sorry, on behalf of all men…”

“No, don’t apologize for them. They wouldn’t apologize. They don’t apologize and they won’t apologize. They don’t feel sorry. You feel sorry, and you have nothing to apologize for. You’re one of the good guys. We don’t judge people because of what they ancestors did to us. We judge people by their current actions. We want to be heard, acknowledged. We understand that living your whole life in a country based on slavery might’ve made you turn a blind eye on some issues. We understand that the systemic racism made you believe in certain things. We really know all of that. But it doesn’t excuse anyone from learning. The problem is very often ignorance. People just assume something is this way because it’s ought to be this way. Or they say something in supposedly good faith, and when we educate them about it being a wrong thing to say, they don’t want to acknowledge their mistake. That I don’t understand and I won’t accept. Everyone makes mistakes. As a white man, you cannot know about all the issues a Black woman faces. But you should be willing to learn about them and fix your mistakes,” Eugene thought to himself that this girl should be a universally known speaker. She spoke with such respect, intelligence and charisma. She knew how to put the issues so that everyone understood her. She could’ve been the next Sojourner Truth if they let her. And it was then when it hit him. Why has he heard of so many Black male orators, but so few women? Was it that the system wanted to silence Black women in particular? Was the problem rooted not only in racism, but also in sexism? Yes, of course it was. Eugene could not believe it took him so long to see how oppressed were the Black women, who had to fought not just with white men, but also with white women, who did not want to acknowledge their femininity, in order to cut them from the feminist movement.

“So teach me. Tell me, please. If you want to. What are the most common mistakes white people make? I’ll try to teach others about them, so we can all know better,” she smiled hearing that. She thoroughly enjoyed having such a clever student.

“First of all, stop with the ‘I don’t see color’ thing. I’m glad you acknowledge that a color of one’s skin shouldn’t be a reason to treat them as a lesser human. I mean, it should be obvious, but unfortunately it isn’t. But it’s not a good thing to say things like that. Because by ‘not seeing color’ you don’t acknowledge the pain and struggle Black people have to endure every single day. Another thing – could the white ladies just stop asking to touch our hair? We’re not their puppies to pet. And don’t assume you understand. Don’t talk about those issues as if they were yours. It’s not just for you specifically, of course, is directed at all white people. I hear all too often them discussing our experience as if they were all-knowing. You have no idea. You have just the point of view of the oppressor, even if you don’t oppress anyone knowingly or purposefully. You didn’t live the struggle, so respect the fact you don’t know how it feels,” he actually took out a notebook and wrote down some of the things she said, as she continued to lecture him. They talked about race and social issues, and then their conversation turned more casual. They talked about books and poetry and exchanged some names they might like to read. Finally, Eugene found the courage to ask the question he thought about for some time.

“Would you like to maybe go out with me? Like… Not for a coffee, for a dinner for example,” he smiled and then looked down, being a little shy. He did not ask a girl out since he was in high school, apart from that one ball after he returned from the war, but neither he nor the girl enjoyed their time there.

Angel smiled slightly, but needed to remind him of something that he did not realize as he usually did not have to live with it. She was not surprised he did not know. Most white people do not think of such things before making plans, because the issue did not involve them.

“If you can find a restaurant that will allow us to sit there, sure,” her smile was a little sad. In Washington maybe it would be easier, but they were still in Alabama. “They usually don’t allow mixed couples in the public eye, you know, not to ruin their reputation. Black people are hardly allowed in any fancy places anyway.”

“So… I invite you to my house. I’ll cook the dinner,” he smiled. Of course, he did not think of the reputation his household will have among his neighbors after that event, but if anyone reminded him of it, he would say he did not care. If they had a problem with that, then it means they were racist, and he did not wish to affiliate himself with such people. “I can pick you up from wherever you want. I assume your father may not appreciate my presence at your house.”

“Oh, no. Just give me the time and address. I will definitely be there and get there on my own. I cannot wait to see what you’ll make for that dinner,” she gave him a big smile. She wrote down the address and they agreed on the time. They were both really happy about the meeting. Neither of them commented on how happy they were, because they did not want to jinx it or appear weird, but they definitely could not wait for the Saturday to come. And it sure looked promising.

[angeltannis]

Iron Boy, Chapter 3: A Quest For Validation

(Ao3 Link)

All the thinking in the world was nothing compared to The Real Deal. Which, that fateful day, came in the form of a companion Moze decided would understand.  

FL4K was extremely meticulous with the feeding times for their pets, which meant they were always in the same part of Sanctuary at the same time every day. This day was no different. Several bowls were lined up in a perfect row on the floor of the ship’s central hub, each filled with a different kind of food ranging from pellets to squirming grubs.  

If FL4K was surprised to see Moze lingering by those bowls that particular day, they didn’t express such a sentiment. Instead they stomped by her with their usual diligence, followed closely by an array of beasts. “Here you are,” they said in that deep, mechanized voice of theirs, stepping aside to let their pets at their bowls. “Feed.” 

“Hey, man–” Moze hesitated as FL4K met her gaze with that single LED eye of theirs. “Uh, I mean...” Speaking in masculine terminology was her go-to for everyone, including herself. FL4K never failed to remind her that they were neither man nor woman, and that her gendered slang made no sense in application. “FL4K. If I were to ask you to do something really weird, and then never, ever talk about it again, would you be down for it?” 

“A bizarre request. I cannot commit to a response until I am given more details.” 

Double-checking to make sure no one was around, Moze knitted her fingers together. “Would you be willing to call me a ‘he’? Just so I can see how it feels?” 

FL4K’s unreadable face was unsettling at the best of times. Now it left her with no idea how they were going to respond. 

“Maybe you could just, like...” Her voice faltered, dropping in volume. “’Oh yeah, Moze, he’s a really cool guy. Well not a guy, but like, a cool Vault Hunter. And he’s got lots of style. And the ladies love him. Something like that.” 

FL4K stared at her for a long time. Then, in a tone entirely deadpan, they said, “Yes, Moze. He is a really cool guy. Not a guy. A cool Vault Hunter. He has lots of style. And ladies love him.” 

Her stomach fluttered again. Wow. “Do you...think that suits me?” 

“Humans’ gendered pronouns are largely incomprehensible to me.” 

So FL4K could voice Moze’s requested pronouns, but could not weigh in on if they suited her or not. For that, she’d need human input. 

Still though, the tingling in her stomach was real. “Huh. Thanks, FL4K.” 

“I am uncertain what I actually accomplished, but you’re welcome.” 

Humans understood pronouns in a social context. But they could also pass judgment and reject her. Was there a human onboard this ship who could give her an honest opinion without potentially turning her into a social pariah? She was too nervous to talk to Amara about it, and Zane was unreliable at best. Telling Moxxi was as good as telling everyone on the ship, and Ava was way too young to get it. 

Wait a minute. There was absolutely a human on board who could give her honest feedback without fear of social rejection.  

After gobbling down some skag jerky and downing half a bottle of Rakk ale from the kitchen, Moze dragged her feet to Sanctuary’s upper level. 

~~~

In the army, one was taught to keep pace. Keep rank. Fall in line. Movements, words, even thoughts were trained to a rigid rhythm, and to break that rhythm was to risk your entire squad breaking formation in battle, a death sentence. 

The way Dr. Tannis moved, talked, and even just existed flew in the face of everything Moze had had drilled into her all those years. She was erratic and chaotic, unpredictable. Her behavior made Moze nervous for just that reason. She preferred conversations where she could be reasonably sure of what the person was going to say next. Talking to Tannis felt like reading dialogue written by a predictive text emulator. 

When the infirmary door lifted into the ceiling, Tannis had her back turned. The door opened constantly when people walked by (side effect of the ship being designed by people with no spaceship design experience, to put it politely), so it made sense she might ignore it. But Moze had a feeling the doctor intentionally ignored entrants to her lab, anyway. 

As Moze took a few more steps inside, she realized Tannis was talking to herself. No, wait–she was talking to the toothbrush propped in a cup on her desk. Of course.  

“No, no, you must have misplaced it. Ava specifically said she would not steal from my lab when I wasn’t around.” After a moment of silence, Tannis whipped her chair over to face the toothbrush. “Well I am more inclined to believe her, considering you lied about putting the toilet paper backwards on the roll. Who does that?!” 

“Uh, hey Doc?” Moze was practically on top of her before Tannis finally turned around. 

“Oh, hello...you.” Tannis made no attempt to hide her scant recognition of the Vault Hunter who had helped save her life just a few months prior. “Do you require something of me?” 

“Yes.” Unlike most everyone else, Tannis actually appreciated and understood the art of getting right to the point. It was just about the only thing the two of them had in common. “I need your opinion about pronouns.” 

“Oh, you can use any for me, I don’t care.” With a wave of her hand, she was already turning her chair back around. 

“Not for you.” Moze reached out and turned the chair back around. Tannis raised her eyebrows, but did not protest. “For me.” 

Tannis’ face scrunched. She briefly–very briefly–met Moze’s eyes. “I do not feel as though that’s something I could make a call on.” 

With a sigh, Moze leaned against the desk housing Tannis’ array of illegible papers and empty coffee mugs. “Do you think it’d be weird if I asked people to use he/him for me, even though I don’t think I’m actually, like, a guy? ” 

Tannis was eyeing her paperwork. It was clear Moze was little but a distraction to her. “I find it equal parts baffling and amusing that you are asking me to be the judge of ‘weirdness’. How on earth should I know how the slack-jaws aboard this ship will perceive non-traditional relationships to gender? Most of them glaze over upon the use of a word with more than two syllables.” 

“’Kay, look. Lemme explain.” Moze held her hands out in emphasis. Tannis’ eyes flicked from the right to the left in turn. “I’m kinda going through a thing here. It’s probably not a big deal, but I wanted to ask somebody who won’t treat me different afterward. I know you pretty much treat everyone with equal...” 

“Apathy?” Tannis volunteered. “Disdain?” 

“Yeah, those. So that’s why I’m asking you.” Moze drifted her hands down, emphasizing the entirety of herself. “Do you think I’d make a good he/him...whatever I am?” 

Tapping her chin, Tannis eventually said, “As surprised as I am by your decision to recruit me as your pronoun advisor, I must admit I am flattered. So I will give you my honest opinion.” Her bright green eyes, so vivid with life and curiosity, searched Moze for another moment. “I was not entirely sure of your gender when I met you. I’m terrible at that sort of thing, anyway, but...” 

“Wait. You couldn’t tell I was a woman?” 

Tannis shrugged her leather-padded shoulders. “I pay very little attention to gendered markers and such. Or to people in general.” 

“So you...” In spite of her bravado, talking about such delicate topics made Moze feel very, very small. “You think people would be cool with calling me a he? It’s kinda weird.” 

“I’d certainly call you that. Easier than trying to remember your name.” The accompanying blank stare emphasized Tannis’ point. 

Moze stared back. “It’s Moze.” 

“Right. Of course.” 

As much as the cyclical conversation had largely gone nowhere, it somehow made Moze feel better. At least one person on this ship didn’t give a damn what pronouns she used, and would respect whatever she chose. 

“I appreciate this, Doc.” Moze was tempted to give her a good-natured whack on the back like Lorelei had done, but quickly rethought it. “I might change my mind, but, well, I might not.” 

Tannis gave a sage nod. “It took me decades to really begin to know my own self. You’re young yet–it’ll come to you in time. And there’s nothing better than embracing yourself and your quirks!” Plucking her toothbrush out of its cup, she said, “Isn’t that right, Greb?” 

The surprisingly maternal bit of consolation dismantled the last bits of wall Moze had erected around her vulnerabilities. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” 

“Anytime, Nose!” 

She was buried in her paperwork again before Moze could bother to correct her. Apparently that was the end of the conversation. Moze slunk out of the lab, her head filled with more thoughts than ever–but for once, they were not entirely bad. 

~~~

What little confidence Moze had worked up talking to FL4K and Tannis was obliterated the moment a certain other Crimson Raider sat down with her at the same dining hall table. Moze froze in place, the greasy meat of her sandwich sliding out onto her plate with a series of plops. She didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. The meticulously-moisturized deep brown arm lined with otherworldly blue tattoos that leaned down onto the table told her everything she needed to know. 

“Ugh, greasy meat scraps again? You really need to start eating better.” Amara’s multiple arms set down six plates, filled with probably every food group. “Didn’t they teach you how to take care of yourself in the military?” 

Uncertain how to respond, Moze took a big bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly. 

Amara started in on the dish nearest to her, a hefty salad. “What’s the matter? Ratch got your tongue?” She laughed that teasing but good-natured chuckle of hers that made Moze’s heart rate increase. “I’m pretty sure they do eat tongues, actually.” 

Amara was not someone Moze felt comfortable with. Not because she disliked her–in fact, it was entirely the opposite. She made Moze sweat a whole lot more than usual, and say things even dumber than usual. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Moze attempted a laugh as boisterous as Amara’s. Her laugh was so small and thin compared to Amara’s deep, rich voice. “Sorry, just...really focused on my...sandwich.” 

Most of the remaining meat had fallen out. Moze was basically eating grease-soaked bread. 

Amara’s gaze flicked from the plate full of sandwich innards to Moze’s rapidly-pinkening cheeks. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. 

For as boisterous as she could be, Amara kept many of her opinions close to the chest. Moze had literally no idea how she felt about gay stuff or gender stuff. She had no idea whether Amara herself was gay or trans or anything like that, either. Much as she wished she knew what Amara was into. 

The tiny bites of bread she took slid down her throat like that deep-fried thresher tentacle she definitely had not grabbed off a food cart at Carnivora that time. Why did this have to be the time Amara suddenly took interest in her? Did she have some magic siren sense that told her when someone around her was in distress? 

She wanted so badly to reach out. Amara was the closest thing she’d had to a “gal pal” in, well, ever, really. Is that something we’d still consider ourselves? Or would I have to be something else? Amara’s...bro? That felt weird, but then another thought crept shyly through her mind–she was nowhere near ready for dating, maybe never would be, but if she did...could she call herself someone’s boyfriend? That thought gave her those stomach flutters again. They didn’t feel like food poisoning or gas. They felt like when you managed to dig up a good memory amidst a sea of bad ones. 

“I gotta go.” Moze informed Amara of her departure as she was already in the process of departing. Amara simply watched her, a frown on that gorgeous face of hers. Moze had never thought Amara cared–at least, not enough to hide her movie star smile behind a frown of concern. Yet there she was, not a trace of bold, cocky smile to be seen. 

She thought about Lorelei’s offer to talk again, and of Tannis’ oddly supportive advice. Maybe more people cared about her than she thought. Maybe she didn’t have to be scared to show her vulnerabilities to the people around her.

Turning back around was about the hardest simple thing she’d ever done. “Okay, actually,” she said, trying for a voice that was strong and devoid of fear, “there is something I wanted to tell you.” 

[quiet-kunoichi]

“ please….stay, just for tonight. ”

[ misc quotes meme | @suck-my-tomato | verse; post-modern ]

She had come over.

Well, that's not entirely true. Initially, Sasuke had showed up to her apartment after a missed call from her, followed by a quick [text:] im sorry about that. So; in lieu of their weird and strangled conversation the other night, where he offered his support any time she felt close to relapsing (or otherwise, but he wasn't ready to say that aloud just yet) -- Sasuke's slingshot brain thought of the worst conclusion and immediately called her back. But in fact, the call back wasn't so immediate, after all. It had been forty minutes since she had attempted initial contact. She doesn't pick up, and her awkward and uncertain voice tells him 'sorry you missed me. uh, yeah - leave a message and i'll get back to you .. eventually. probably.' The beep of her voicemail catches him off guard; a weird beat of silence begins the message before he mutters a quick, "Hey.. I hope you're alright-- Call me, okay?" Minutes pass with him staring expectantly at the screen. She doesn't call him back; he curses himself for getting caught up in his most recent painting. Unable to contain the swirl of emotions, Sasuke rises to his restless feet. He paces the room a few times, biting at the skin of his lip and glancing over to his blackened phone screen now and again. He even tried sitting back down at his canvas, picking up the brush and the palette again: just to get his mind off of it. Sasuke knew it would be pushing boundaries if he just showed up because she didn't reply in.. twelve minutes. "She's probably fine," He told the room, the drying paint, himself. But clearly he wasn't certain enough - because when his phone vibrates against the coffee table, Sasuke risks the detailed linework by nearly diving out of his seat to snatch his phone. But his once high-strung heart was now rocking heavy in his gut and making him seasick. Just a text from Naruto. He doesn't even bother to read it - instead pulling up the sporadic text conversation with Kimiko and rereading her short message as if he could read between the lines. Fuck it. In cases of recovering addicts, sometimes boundaries would have to be pushed; he was personally familiar. So, Sasuke snatched his car keys from their place beside the door and heads for her apartment. His hands were clammy and stuck to the steering wheel with an iron grip the whole time. What was he going to walk in on? Would this behavior bring up old, bruised memories - would it roll their hesitant friendship back a few steps? Maybe she truly didn't mean to call; maybe she was not even home. Or she was home, but had someone else over. That thought tightened his throat. But nothing compared to the nagging gnat of trauma whispering something much more foul in his ear: perhaps he didn't come soon enough, and the apartment would already be empty. Worse yet - a repeat of the scene he came across a few months ago. No. Sasuke refused to let his brain run down that beaten path: instead, he barely made it through a yellow light and parked on the street across from her apartment building. The next time he blinked, Sasuke was standing in front of her door, fist hanging in the air. Had he already knocked? He can't remember. Kimiko hadn't even the time to quickly soak up the leftover water from her hair and wrap up decently when the second knock came. It sends a zip of fear up her spine; her mouth is gummy, so she cannot even reply. She just wraps the nearest towel tightly around herself and quickly ( and carefully ) pads over to the front door of her rather.. 'minimalistic' apartment. No, she hadn't unpacked fully, yet. It wasn't that she was expecting to pick up and disappear at the drop of a hat; it was just too hard a task, truthfully. Opening the door a crack (seeing as this apartment didn't have the foresight to install peepholes) Kimiko peers through a sliver, a single dull yellow eye landing upon his face. Oh --

Blinking a few times, Kimiko's death grip on her door is slackened in surprise. The door comes open a few more inches, and reveals that she indeed just got out of the bath. "..Sasuke?" She questions, as though the man before her might chameleon into someone else with her next blink. He stammers a reply; an apology - and she tells herself that the color of his cheeks was likely due to the strangeness of his voice, because she could not picture any other reason why he'd feel embarrassed. "H-hey. Uh, I'm sorry. I was just --" He's struggling to figure out how to express his thoughts coherently while she's standing there with her hair dripping and a towel tucked tightly around her slender frame. "You didn't answer, so.. I'm just checking in on you." Was it more awkward to look at her while she was sorta-kinda indecent, or more glaringly awkward to obviously not look at her at all? Her neighbor's door opens; Sasuke is ogled at from across the hall. Kimiko's stare slides over and the decision is made for her: she opens the door and gingerly takes his wrist, beckoning him inside. Closing the door behind him and locking ( the knob, the dead bolt, the chain, the swing-bar guard ) it, Kimiko turns to him and draws his attention back from where it wandered about her empty apartment. Well - mostly empty. Suppose the issue of not having any clutter or decorations was that a lone bottle of whiskey appeared like a glaring centerpiece on her coffee table. She'll behave as though it didn't exist. "Sorry. It's nothing personal; she stares at me, too." Kimiko murmurs, catching that telltale look of concern hardly concealed in his stare as he turns back to her. "Kimiko.." His voice is careful, as though they stood on thin ice and he was chancing the very real possibility that whatever he would say next could make them fall through and catch hypothermia. "I should get dressed," She'd reply, dipping her head and passing him by on her way back to the bathroom. Despite her hope that he would ignore the obvious, too - Kimiko returns to the front room once dressed, and Sasuke is leaning his weight into the arm of her couch rather than sitting upon it. She catches him in a staring contest with the bottle of liquor. Arms tucked across her midsection, she stands adjacent to him and awaits the backfire from being caught -- even if she hadn't indulged in it (yet). "I'm sorry I didn't pick up." Instead of scolding her, Sasuke apologizes. It's.. strange, but quietly welcomed in the stead of worse repercussions. She doesn't respond, because she doesn't know quite how to. So, with fingers steepled and head dipped to the floor between them, he speaks up again; but it's not without strain. "I know I said I'd be available for support if you needed it-" She's expecting him to follow this sentence with a 'but I said it too soon' or a 'but I changed my mind', and she doesn't want the heartache that would follow hearing that kind of statement, so Kimiko cuts him off. "It's fine, Sasuke. Really.. I'm fine." She shouldn't lie like that, but old habits die painfully slow. At last, his gaze lifts and they share a look; one that's hard to place. She knows that he knows she's lying, and she swallows the guilt and shame that comes with that. "I didn't have any. The cap is sealed, if you want to check." She offers the olive branch, and Sasuke truly considers it: but decides against it, in an attempt to show his trust in her claim. Even still, a short sigh escapes her; fingers come up to rub at her eye. Now having a proper look at her, Sasuke recognizes an old shirt she used to wear in high school. It draws attention to how much she's thinned down since then, the fabric now loose in places that it used to hold onto her curves. Dark crescents are worn like ghosts under her eyes, her cheekbones are taut and pronounced in a way he hasn't noticed before. Kimiko speaks up before he has the chance. "I did think about it," She admits, sounding tired. "And I did call," Another admittance, this one with a twinge more shame behind it. He gives a little wince. "But I walked away from it." A half-hearted shrug follows. Actually, she had tossed her phone on the couch and fled to the bathroom, mid-panic attack and desperate to scald and then simmer in a soup of flashbulb memories: just so she could watch them wash down the drain with the soapy bathwater. But a knock on the door interrupted that sequence, and now here they both were.

"It's okay that you didn't answer. I know that .." She hesitates, the fingers at her side starting to pluck at the edge of her shirt. "I know you're busy, with stuff." Ah, real smooth, Kimiko. That totally wasn't obvious. Her lips press firm, and she can no longer bear to hold his gaze, so she drops her own while slowly curling her grip over opposite arm. "And I'm fine to handle it on my own. I've done it before." Yeah, that probably wasn't the best thing to add in, either. "I was working on a painting." Sasuke replies, then turns over his palms to expose the flecks and streaks of paint that litter his pale skin. He's not sure why he felt like she needed the visual proof; but she had offered some tactile evidence with the sealed cap to her bottle of whiskey, earlier - and he wanted to extend the same offering in exchange. To make it a two-lane street, like his therapist had mentioned last week. Before her.. self-inflicted incident - Kimiko had been the only one expressing her efforts to make amends. He wasn't proud of the result; so now, in light of the aftermath: Sasuke wanted to try, too. "Oh." She replies, dumbly. "Um," Umber hues roam around the room, but he continues to look up at her. "..Sorry you came all the way out here to check on me. I didn't have my phone, I was in the bath, and-" Her fingers are plucked from her side and engulfed by the dual caress of both of his palms. He holds her small hand in his own, and places his other hand on top. It strikes her heart, giving it a kickstart as she looks between their clasped hands and back up to him. "Don't apologize." He begins, "I came to check on you because I wanted to." A thumb runs over the top of her hand, trying to soothe. Instead it just gets her heart in a weird flutter; unused to this intimacy, even after all this time. Or, perhaps especially after all this time. "I see." Is her quiet reply. Parting his lips, Sasuke realizes that she's transfixed on her hand sandwiched between his own. He returns it, but admittedly, it isn't without some reluctance: like pulling apart two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle after finally connecting their uneven ends. "..Have you eaten?" He asks, and she appears dumbfounded by the question. "What?" It comes from her mouth laced in confusion. "Have you had dinner? I parked by a sushi restaurant and I was thinking of ordering takeout." He looks up at her expectantly: Kimiko clearly hasn't been eating well enough, and he wouldn't let that slide by him. So, without an answer - Sasuke is already pulling up the menu on his phone, swiping a finger down the menu. "Do you still like salmon, and eel?" He gives her an upward glance; she's getting obviously flustered. "Sasuke.." Now it was her turn to lace her voice with the careful and wary tone of warning. It dawns on him, then -- He'd just invited himself to stay in her space. Casually, too: as if it were commonality. It hadn't been, not in a long time. The realization ( and deflation ) must have been rather obviously etched upon his features, because Kimi is quick to the draw and apologizing. "I'm sorry, it's just- I don't mean-" His hand comes up, and she quiets down. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped the gun like that." He rises to his feet, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "It's not like that,.." She trails off, and without transparency, Sasuke decides to play it safe. "It's okay to be uncomfortable, Kimiko. You've done well to respect my boundaries, and I don't want to push you. I'm glad you didn't relapse." They stand there for a few beats more - until he can't take it anymore, all the things left unsaid hanging between them; he heads for the door. "Sasuke, wait." Kimiko's voice is pressed with a twinge of urgency; she's gone as far as to take a few strides and grasp for his wrist. When he stops and looks down at her over his shoulder, Kimiko reflects the little girl at the playground all those years ago: doe-eyed, perpetually a tad afraid, knowing what she wanted but not yet certain on how to ask for it. She lets go of his wrist and returns her hands to herself, one arm still tucked around her center as the now free hand comes up to collect a strand of her hair. Sasuke turns to face her properly.

"It's not that I don't want to spend time with you," She begins to explain, pressing the knuckle of her finger ( wrapped with a coil of dark hair ) into her cheek. "I really appreciate the offer of sushi, and.. your time." A little inaudible gulp, and a stolen glance back up at him. "I just don't want to be here, really." At last, she's admitted the true hang-up to this entire situation. Slowly, his eyebrows raise -- he understands where her reluctance is coming from, almost immediately. "Kimiko, did he send-?" His concerned question is cut off with a quick toss of her head: No. Or, more likely: No, I don't want to talk about this right now. With a nod of acknowledgement, Sasuke folds his lips before proposing a solution. "Do you want to take the sushi to my place, then? We could watch a movie." His offer is received with a hopeful look on her part: like he had offered a child if they'd like to get ice-cream instead of doing their homework. "..Are you sure?" She has to ask, and it brings a little smile from him, exhaling through his nose. "Yeah, I'm sure." ------------- So their night together had officially begun; ( Kimiko did in fact still like salmon and eel ) - sushi was secured, the drive to his place was shared in amicable silence with the background of music, and the movie was picked effortlessly. Of course, she had perked up after that first ( and hesitant ) bite - and also to nobody's surprise, Kimiko had easily agreed to the movie he suggested; for it was a movie that she was planning to watch, anyway. The night played on without a single scratch or trip in the record, and conversations flowed back and forth without a hitch. They were truly getting along without so much as a hiccup or awkward pause along the way. Now satisfied and lulled, Kimiko was starting to drift upon his couch, curled against the pillow between them. The TV screen washed in red, and Sasuke hums in amusement, dipping his ear towards his shoulder and murmuring, "I guess you were right, Brenda didn't last longer than Stacy. Still, I don't think there's going to be a Final Girl." Kimiko hums something nonsensical, half-muffled by the pillow she'd nuzzled down into. Properly looking over now, Sasuke double-takes the scene beside him; and his heart swells. She was ..well, undoubtedly cute, curled up and dozing off in the smack-middle of a slasher movie. In the moment of privacy, Sasuke unfolds into an unseen smile. A few moments pass as he studies her sleep-slackened face, peaceful and unmarred from bruises or tears. Picturesque from their early highschool years. A little sigh escapes his nostrils, the familiar sense of nostalgia clutching him. Reaching forward, Sasuke plucks the remote from the coffee table and turns down the movie a notch or two before rising to his feet and taking care of the takeout boxes. She's done well to eat most of her food; he's proud that she made the effort. Returning to the couch, Sasuke brings with him a clean blanket from his storage closet. Gingerly, it's draped over the slumbering girl. He returns to her side, arms stretching into his wingspan across the back of the couch. His weight pressing into the cushions beside her causes Kimiko to stir; she tucks herself closer to him, nose following his familiar scent and notching against his shoulder. Sasuke stills in his spot as his old flame stitches slowly back into his side, the familiarity in such an action eliciting a similar response from him. His arm lifts from the back of the couch; it hovers just over her shoulders before slowly settling upon her. A hand cups her arm, sinking down into his seat on the couch and feeling his heart hammer in his chest: God, how he felt like a teenager, again. Those first few instances of intimate physical contact with his best friend whom he had an enthralling crush on: it came rushing back in, now. That twist of excitement tightening his chest in all the right ways, a weird warm flutter in his gut.

Thumb slowly begins to slide up and down over her bicep, Sasuke looking right through the TV screen as he dares let his cheek lower, one centimeter at a time, until it brushes just over the top of her head. He could just close his eyes and be content like this, turn into a statue forever in this position that he didn't realize how much he truly missed. But a shrill shriek from the movie is enough to pull Kimiko from her dreams; eyes slowly blink open before she realizes the circumstance and quickly retreats from the intimate embrace. Kimiko's heart is thunderous in her ears as she reels from the comedown of her otherwise peaceful slumber - eyes rounded into full moons that blink at him while she tries to collect her surroundings. "I- God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I just; I fell asleep." She's tripping over apologies and excuses for her 'inappropriate' behavior, and Sasuke's face is burning with the childish shame of being caught. Now he's flustered, too. "No- It's fine, really -uh, I didn't mind; you were just sleeping- I know." Their awkward dance stifled down into an even worse silence. His fingers twitched at the back of the couch, wanting to reach out and grip her arm so gently, to just quietly pull her in and tuck her under his chin, like the old times. But he doesn't, and her unforgiving grip on the pillow clutched to her chest slowly comes undone. Sasuke watches her, but again, she's receded back into her shell, unable to look over at him while coming down from the level of embarrassment she'd catapulted herself into. On the table between them, Sasuke's phone lights up with a text. Neither of them can see who its from, but Kimiko catches the time before the screen goes dark. "It's late.." She trails off; and he doesn't pick up on what she was insinuating. It was one in the morning, and he’d received a text. She could’ve read the name if she really tried, but she already had a good guess; and it made her stomach curdle. So, with a small swallow, Kimiko rubs her arm and starts to stand up. "I should get going." Suddenly, Sasuke understands - and he cannot bear the thought at this moment, not after all that's transpired: even if given the option this morning, he would've likely not felt any one particular way. Or maybe he would have - thoughts and feelings are scattered all over the place. But one thing was for certain, it was screaming in his head as she collected her things and tucked hair behind her ear, lingering; as though she were waiting for him to say something, anything, god damnit-- "Um, well. Thank you for dinner, and.. sorry I couldn't stay awake through the movie. Guess I'm aging fast," Her attempt at a little laugh breaks his heart. He feels like such an idiot, his tongue tangled into knots and sitting useless in his mouth, his body sewn into the couch. She must think he was just sitting there, waiting for her to excuse herself from his apartment on her own. Fuck. So much time has dragged by, when in reality it was only a single beat of silence before she cleared her throat softly and dropped her arms down. "Don't worry about driving me back, I know the bus routes." Her voice falters at the end, and suddenly, she's turned on her heel and heading with purpose towards his door - like ripping off a band aid. "Kimiko, wait-" Finally, words choke from his throat with his sheer desperation to keep her from leaving. Not again. Up on his feet now, Sasuke made it a whole three feet before realizing with subdued surprise that she had in fact ..waited. Almost as though she were hesitant to actually leave, in the first place. So, she stalls facing the front door and clutching her phone to her chest, lingering - waiting to hear him out. A single golden beam rolls over her shoulder and drinks him in, eyebrow dipped up in an expression of both uncertainty and hope. “ please... stay, just for tonight. ”

Slowly, quietly, Kimiko turns. They share a encapsulating moment, holding a tender stare from across the room. She recognizes the fear etched into his face - that telltale look of expectant abandonment, the childish shrinking away from his own vulnerability. Kimiko won’t leave him; not like she had, before. Before she weighed the fear of entangling him into her corrupted life against the knowledge that every time she slipped away and into the night, a little piece of his heart broke loose. So, as long as he would ask her to -- Kimiko would stay. He holds his heart in the base of his throat - truly expecting that she would turn back around and leave him here, alone. Maybe laugh at him for the inflated hope that she would stay for the night; be there when he woke up in the morning. Instead, Kimi breaks his expectations and approaches with careful, practiced steps - returning to his side. Without a hint of hesitation this time, Sasuke reaches out and scoops her into his embrace. His body was moving of its own accord, playing out the complicated desires of his heart. Kimiko doesn't fight it, nor does she still into ice. In fact, the girl just melts against him; doing what came naturally. It was second nature to tuck her head into the crook of his collarbone, to delicately slip her arms beneath his and hook her fingers into the fabric just over his shoulder blades. His chin rests atop her head, fingers gingerly running large, comforting circles over her back. Everything fell back into place; as natural and second-nature as breathing. There was no effort involved, in this moment of soft re-collision. Only a wish, on both of their parts - that this connection would have happened sooner. That their selfish games of head vs. heart would have been silenced and put out well before this night. Accompanying that desire was the hope that things would really be okay, this time: he would ask her to stay, and she would - he wouldn't mind, and it wouldn't be just for tonight. So, Kimiko had come over; and in the end, she wouldn’t leave his side unless he had asked her to.

[no-whump-on-main]

Vampire Whump 2

Previous

After FOREVER and a half I finished this!! It actually only took two days to write but editing was a BITCH lol. anyways here is 5,000 words of creepy vampire man and cliffhangers

CWs for: Creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, dehumanization, stripping in a nonsexual sense, self-thoughts and descriptions of body size that could be triggering for those with EDs

     Annalise does not often find her Master in what could be described as a good mood. Most often, he is indifferent, if not annoyed with her for minor infractions, such as leaving her porridge untouched or reopening wounds he spent his own time carefully cleaning and closing. Today, however, when Annalise awakens to the sound of his footsteps padding down the stairs, she is shocked to discover cues that make him seem happy. He does not slam the door to her cell when he closes it behind him, and he does not reprimand her for sleeping so much or lacking alertness when he speaks to her. His body language, by all means, is cheerful.

     She does, however, notice something strange from her usual position of sitting in the far left corner of the cell with her knees tucked to her chest; he is carrying another item along with his usual oil lamp. It is a long piece of folded white silk. She wonders what the purpose of the fabric is, but remains silent, as she has not been told to speak. She does not speak often, as permission is rarely granted; after all, things like her have no need to speak. They are simply there to accept what is dealt to them and serve. 

     Master speaks to her, which is not unusual, but his genuinely kind tone of voice is. She snaps to attention, immediately disregarding her wandering thoughts to pay him her utmost regard.

     “Come here, darling,” he commands her, pointing to the ground in front of his feet. She immediately crawls to him before kneeling righteously with her back turned to him, assuming he is going to feed. She has slept and woke at least five times since the last time he ate; it was time.

    Instead of the anticipated sharp sting in her neck, she is met with a hard slap to the cheek from behind. The girl flinches and squeezes her dull blue eyes shut, but does not otherwise react. She wonders what she has done wrong.

     “Other way. Turn around.” His voice is still as kind as it was before, showing no harshness. He has not done this to harm her, only to correct her behavior.

     Ah, she had followed Master’s instructions improperly. Dimly, she wonders how she was meant to know he wanted her turned toward him without being told so, as she was always expected to face away from him since she did not deserve to gaze upon him. 

     The simple explanation is that she is just a stupid girl. She should have known, and the stinging in her cheek is a simple reminder of this.

     Obediently, she turns around, now kneeling and facing Master with her eyes averted downward. She knows she is not permitted to make eye contact with him under any circumstance, so to avoid the issue altogether, she keeps her gaze locked down whenever she faces him.

     “Good girl. Close your eyes and look forward.”

     Her heart skips as she is called a good girl, overjoyed to be called what she craved to be most in the world. Master’s instructions are strange, but she follows them faithfully, letting her eyelids fall shut before lifting her chin up from her chest to look ahead. She feels Master’s hands draw closer to her face, and for a moment, she braces herself to be struck again, but instead of pain, she feels the soft texture of silk brushing against her face, settling over her eyes as Master securely ties the ends together behind her head. She now realizes what the purpose of the strange fabric was; to be a blindfold.

     Annalise hasn’t been blindfolded in a very long time, and it makes her nervous. The last time Master drowned out her vision with a thick piece of cloth, he had muzzled her in succession then thrown her into her cage, leaving her alone in the basement to shiver without his guidance. She was given no opportunity to earn herself mercy with obedience; there was only cold metal and humiliation for days on end. She wonders if she is going to go back in the cage, and feels cool dread settle in her stomach at the thought. Master reserves the cage for when her behavior is truly atrocious, and she cannot remember acting out severely in any recent time. Behaving like this unknowingly is her greatest fear; after all, how could she fix her mistakes and prove herself worthy if she didn’t know what she did wrong?

     Her fear is thankfully relieved at least somewhat as Master bends over and scoops her up from the ground. One of his arms is supporting her torso from behind, while the other is tucked under her knees. She gasps quietly as they rise, shocked not only to be held, but lifted. Master had said nothing about a reward, and if he were going to punish her, he would drag her off rather than delicately lift her from the ground.

     As the vampire steps out of the cell and heads for the stairs, again being delicate with the door, he speaks softly to the confused girl huddled in his arms. “You may ask two questions if you’d like, Annalise.”

     Annalise’s head perks up, gleeful for the opportunity to speak as well as to clear some of her bewilderment with the situation. Master is being very generous, allowing her two questions. She pauses for a moment, wanting to make her questions worthwhile; she doesn’t want to waste her opportunity, after all. After pondering for a moment, her first question is the most obvious thing to ask, with her nerves of the unknown.

     “Where are we going?” She asks, her voice cracked and brittle from lack of use. The vampire quietly notes to himself that he’d have to fix that before his guests arrived. It sounded ugly. 

     “Upstairs,” He softly answers, offering no further explanation. Just upstairs. Not what room they would go to, or what they would do upstairs, or why he had now, after nearly two years, decided to take her up beyond the confines of the basement for the first time. 

     As if to confirm what he told her, he begins to ascend the steps, each second another moment closer to finally having his muse upstairs.

     This will change things, and he knows it. He may be calloused, but he knows that once he brings her into his home, he won’t want to leave her in the inky blackness of the basement again. He sees the way she shivers, how her bones sit so very close to her skin, and part of him thinks that with her perfect, practiced, and soon to be tested obedience, she deserves at the very least to be a housepet. Of course, he won’t let his emotions control his actions, and she must remain positively perfect as she is now to earn her place, but with her hard work, he does not doubt she could rise to the occasion.

     Annalise’s heart skips a beat as her Master ponders what is to become of the state of her existence. Upstairs? 

     She has no memories of the main level of her Master’s home, but she does know that it exists, and she believes that it is a grand place, much more spacious and welcoming than the cold abyss downstairs. She is overjoyed at the news, yet even more curious than she is ecstatic. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out her second question, poorly worded from her haste.

     “Why?”

     Master stops in his tracks as Annalise realizes her mistake. She begins to correct herself but quickly remembers that she has not been given open speech, only two questions, so she goes silent.

     “That is not a question, darling. I’ll be gracious and let you try again, but do not repeat that error. Understood?”

     Annalise quickly nods and states her question again. This time, it is properly worded. “Why are we going upstairs, Master?”

     The vampire begins to ascend again, and he can feel Annalise become less tense. He decides to be generous with his explanation.

     “We are going upstairs because I have decided it is time to introduce you to my peers, and I have planned somewhat of a dinner party, if you will, accordingly. We will discuss my expectations for your behavior through this once I get you ready.”

     Master falls quiet after that, leaving Annalise to stew in her shock. She hears another door open and can now feel Master walking along flat ground. She notices it is much warmer upstairs, delighting her greatly. She has not stopped shivering, but her usual quakes have become gentle flutters with the change in temperature.

     She is finally set down after Master walks through two more doors. She doesn’t know where he has taken her, but the scent is different in the room they settle in. The house smelled of aged cedar and iron before they went through the last door, but this room smells like myrrh and frankincense. It is rich and deep, radiating through all of the room’s air. 

      Annalise wonders how she knows the names of these smells. She cannot remember being taught them.

     The surface she sits upon now is hard and close to the source of the scents. She feels small droplets of water soak into the back of her nightgown as she settles with her hands folded in her lap. She understands after she feels the water; she is in a bathtub, in Master’s bathroom. The rich smells have to be that of his soaps and colognes. She thinks they must be very expensive given how strongly fragrant they are.

     She is still very confused on why she has been deemed worthy of coming upstairs, but she does not question Master’s decisions. He is wise. He knows what is best for her. He knows what she deserves. 

     Master does not let her sit in the tub and ponder for long. His instructions come soon after she is set down.

     “Remove your clothes, dear.”

     Annalise obeys without question but wonders what the purpose of the command is. Master has never required her to do such a thing before, and as she feels cool bathroom air hit her now exposed body, she wishes he hadn’t. She shudders, but remains silent and still, simply waiting for Master to instruct her further, or to do something himself.

     He then does something strange. He walks in front of her, makes something clink in the bottom of the tub by her feet, and turns a creaky handle.

     Then she feels warmth. Warm water is pouring over her feet. It reaches out and starts to lap at her legs, then steadily continues to move forward and rise, all the way up until it reaches her chest. She realizes then that she is taking a bath-that is why she was told to strip. This is what Master meant when he said he needed to make her presentable.

      Of course, she knew that people usually bathed when they were in bathtubs, but she never could have expected Master would deem her worthy of this luxury. She had originally thought that he just needed somewhere to put her down. It seems completely irrational for her to deserve something like this, yet here she is. 

     If this is a reward, it is Annalise’s new favorite. This is the first warm bath she can remember, and she is basking in it. She has been bathed before, of course, it has been far too long for her to have gone without a bath at all, but all of the baths she can remember up to this point were miserable experiences. They all went the same way; Master would come down with a bucket of ice water and dump it over her, usually while she was in the cage, with no warning, or even commands, then leave. He just let her shiver alone in silence until the air dried her off.

     She shudders. She does not like these memories.

     The sound of the water pouring heavily down into the porcelain tub is loud, loud enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear Master over it if he were trying to speak to her. Luckily, when it does stop, once the water is approaching the top of the deep tub, Master does not reprimand her for not listening, so he must not have tried to speak at all.

     He walks back over to her side, now, and pours something that smells sweet into the bathwater. She can’t place the exact scent, but it seems floral.

     “You may speak freely if you please. This includes questions.”

His voice is loud and booming, echoing in Annalise’s ears. Speak freely? She has not heard Master say that in a very, very long time. The last time she can remember is when he’d put her in the cage, and wanted to hear her every thought and plea.

     She doesn’t remember how long ago that was. 

     Master is being so very kind today. Though she does not understand his kindness, she will not be ungrateful. Her first free words are those of thanks, and her voice shakes with how quickly she is stumbling over her words as she leans back in the bath. 

     “Thank..T-Thank you, Master! Thank you master for b-believing I am worthy of being t-taken into your h-home and for the warm bath, it-it’s wonderful, oh-”

     “Silence, Annalise.”

     The girl’s mouth falls shut.

     “You do not ramble. You will not waste my time with rambling. Say what you need to in an efficient and eloquent manner.”

     The girl swallows a lump in her throat and nods.

“Good girl. Now, what were you saying?”

     “Thank you,” she replies softly, now. She is scared. Of being punished, or even just losing the privilege. 

     “You are very welcome,” Master tells her. He falls quiet. He’s waiting for her to speak.

     The bathroom is quiet for a moment before Annalise realizes this and speaks again.

     “Why am I blindfolded?” She asks. 

     She hopes Master will not take her question as her doubting his authority. She trusts that he knows best; she just wonders why this is best.

     “You’ve been in the dark for a long time, darling. Sudden light now will hurt your eyes. We’ll introduce it slowly.”

     The explanation makes sense, and Annalise nods. She wonders how she’s going to get used to the light slowly-light is light, isn’t it? Maybe he would use candles, lighting just one at a time. That could work, couldn’t it?

     The girl desperately wants to just fall silent and enjoy the fragrant warmth enveloping her, but she figures it would be rude to ignore Master when he had so graciously let her speak openly. She doesn’t know when the privilege will be revoked, so she should use it while she still can. The problem is that she finds she does not know what to say or ask. She has been silent for so long that she does not know what to say now, and she frowns until she finally resigns and tells Master, “...I don’t have anything else to say, Sir.”

     The vampire doesn’t seem to mind, letting her quietly relax back in the bathwater for a few minutes to soak. He decides to take this time to rifle through a medicine cabinet above the sink. He still needs something for her voice; he can’t have her sounding like a croaking toad in front of his friends. He scans many bottles until finally deciding on a simple jar of honey. Most of the medicines he has are far out of date, and he won’t risk getting her sick. She’s weaker when she’s ill, making it much more dangerous for her to be fed on. And with tonight’s plans, he needs her healthy.

     He takes the honey and a tablespoon for serving then brings it back to Annalise. Crouching over the side of the tub, he instructs her to open her mouth, before he feeds her the contents of the spoon. The girl seems surprised by the sweet liquid but doesn’t make any comments about it, and the vampire leaves her in peace for the remainder of the time that he has determined she needs to soak in the floral clarifying solution for.

     Once several minutes have passed, he begins to clean the girl. He does not inform her of what he’s doing, but simply soaks a sponge and silently lifts each of her limbs one by one, thoroughly cleansing them each individually before letting them fall back into the water. Her back and torso are next; they have suffered the worst of the abuse, and are both caked in filth and dried blood, requiring the vampire to soak and scrub them more diligently to fully clean them.

     It is a long process, but once he is satisfied that her body is clean, he moves on to her hair. It’s a long, matted mess, but the vampire seems determined to detangle it, not wanting to chop one bit off of the beautiful curls hidden underneath the mats. He takes good care of his things, after all; cutting things off of his possessions would be wildly inappropriate. Unless, of course, they had earned that treatment. Annalise had not.

     The vampire finally breaks the silence and speaks to Annalise, not wanting to startle the relaxed girl by suddenly dunking her underwater with no warning. 

     “Hold your breath for me, dear. I’m going to wet your hair,” he warns her smoothly.

     Annalise nods and braces herself to go beneath the surface of the water. She’d nearly drifted off while Master scrubbed her clean, and even now remains in a state of such relaxed bliss that she might as well be sleeping, hardly present with the world.

     She isn’t held under for any longer than a few seconds, just long enough to saturate her tangled hair and wash a bit of the dirt on her face away. Master soon leans her back up and she inhales deeply, her eyes still closed under the soaked blindfold as water drips from her hair. She hears master pick up another bottle, this one smelling distinctly of roses as he pours some out into his hands, then applies it to her hair. It must be shampoo, with the clean feeling it leaves as Master massages it into her scalp. She feels her spine tingle as his fingers rub her head and she sighs happily. She has been weary for so long; this comfort, though it is unfamiliar, is incredible.

     She is lost in her thoughts as Master rinses the shampoo from her hair, then begins to slather what has to be a whole bottle of conditioner onto the giant mats and tangles. He then spends so much time brushing through it, tiny section by tiny section, that the water goes cold by the time he’s done. Annalise can’t see it, but there’s a discarded pile of her hair that had been ripped out in the process by the vampire’s feet. 

     Just as she begins to grow weary of the long bath, the vampire finishes brushing out her hair and washes the excess conditioner from her hair, then unplugs the drain by her toes. The water’s level starts to slowly fall until it has all drained away. Annalise is bewildered by the feeling of her wet hair sticking to her back; she had no clue it was so very long. Before it was brushed out, the huge knots had kept it from scraping anywhere past the middle of her back, but now, she feels the ends brush down by her hips.

     She’s starting to shiver from the cool air surrounding her wet body, but Master soon saves her from the cold by wrapping her in a fluffy towel. He reaches into the tub and picks her up again after making sure the towel was secure, then walks off with her, but does not take her far. They only go through one door, and hardly travel any steps after it, before she is set down on a plush surface. Her hands instinctively fold in her lap. The ground beneath her is soft, fuzzy, even, like her blanket, and she realizes with delight that she has been set down on Master’s bed. She knows she is only going to sit here momentarily, but it is so very soft and nice, she wishes she could stay.

     Master’s footsteps start to recede away, then Annalise hears the sound of a match striking. He must be lighting candles. Was Master going to take off the blindfold now? She hoped so. She didn’t like things being so dark. Her eyes had adapted to see just enough down in the basement, but now, with the fabric and Master’s order to keep her eyes closed, everything is pitch black. It is frightening. She does not like it.

     Her hopes, for once, come true; Master returns to her, and with gentle hands, unties the wet silk and lets it fall into her lap. Even after the blindfold comes off, her eyes are still closed. Master had never said to open them after he told her to close them in her cell.

     “Open your eyes, Annalise,” she hears his voice boom, and she immediately obeys. Her gaze is respectfully focused down at the ground. All she can see are her own legs, the edge of the bed, and the dark hardwood floor below her. The room is very dim; there are small bursts of light coming from the candles visible in the corner of her eye, but they are so few that her eyes do not hurt even a bit. Master was careful with it. He is kind. 

     “Do they hurt, at all? Uncomfortable, even?”

Annalise shakes her head. She notes that the soft blanket she sits on is blue. It’s hard to see the color, but she’s able to make out that it’s a very dark blue. She likes the color.

     “Good,” he hums. He seems happy. That makes Annalise happy. 

     Annalise watches Master step away. He walks out of her field of vision, just for a moment, then returns. There’s a bundle of deep red fabric hung over his arm when he returns. It’s just as shiny as the material of the blindfold had been.

     “I went out and bought you a dress, just for tonight. What do you say, Annalise? You may speak. And chin up, dear, I want you to see it.”

     Annalise raises her head. She’s no longer looking at the ground, but straight ahead. She can’t see Master’s head, but she sees the gown he’s holding out in front of her. It’s simple, but she finds it beautiful. The dress is bright red and very long, the bottom brushing against the floor. It looks loose and flowy; there are several layers of stitched tulle atop a silk base, with long poet sleeves made of the tulle. 

     It’s gorgeous. Annalise is shocked into silence for a moment before she remembers Master's order and hurries to comply.

     “Thank you, Master. It-It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

     She wants to say more, to break down in thanks for the entire opportunity of being allowed upstairs in the first place, but she remembers his rule against rambling and quiets herself. From what she can see of his body language, Master seems pleased by her reaction.

“You’re very welcome. Get it on, then. I’ll help you zip the back. 

     Annalise carefully reaches out to take the dress, but Master pulls back and points to a set of undergarments set directly behind her. She delicately removes the towel from herself and slips them on, first, then reaches out again to take the dress from him. He lets her take it this time. His hands brush hers as they close around the fabric, and her heart flutters. She wishes he would hold her. He hasn’t in a long time, and she misses it. 

     She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to shake the thought from her mind. There isn’t time for distraction now. She’d been given an order. Carefully, Annalise slips the gown over her head. The fabric feels luxurious, expensive against her skin, and it makes her nervous. What if she damaged it? Master bought it just for her. If she ruined it, she’d be in such dire trouble. 

     It feels awkward and difficult to get the dress on while staying seated, but after a small struggle, her arms finally settle into the sleeves and she’s able to brush the skirt of the dress down over her legs. The dress fits her well, if not a little loose. There’s a bit of scrunched fabric still stuck beneath her, but it will settle next time Master lifts her.

     “Turn around,” He tells her once she has gotten into the dress. She obeys, pulling her legs all the way up onto the bed before flipping herself around completely. As soon as she’s turned, the vampire pulls the zipper on the dress from her lower back up to the nape of her neck. He grabs her hair and runs a few strands between his fingers, humming to himself as if he were indecisive. Finally, he lets it go, seemingly deciding to leave it be. He does, however, produce a small jar full of a sweet-smelling cream from his pocket. He rakes some of the substance through her hair with his fingers before splitting it in half and setting it over her shoulders.

    “Your hair looks nice down,” he hums. “Look at the curls. They’re beautiful.”

     Annalise doesn’t know if that was a real command or not, but she does look anyways, just to be safe. She wouldn’t risk disobedience.

    Her hair is an ashy brown. It’s quickly starting to dry and curl up. She doesn’t know what Master finds so particularly beautiful about it, it’s just hair, but she nods in agreement with his judgment. He is right, she just doesn’t know why.

     “Turn back to me. We’re almost done, dear. You’re nearly ready.”

     Annalise turns to face Master again, and she is soon taken back up in his arms. The vampire carries her over to a small vanity, gracefully pulling the small bench tucked beneath it out at a ninety-degree angle before setting her down on it, mindful to keep her dress in place now that it’s had the opportunity to fall into place behind her legs. He then does something peculiar; he kneels in front of her. Annalise finds it strange to see her Master kneel in front of her. Wasn’t that her job? Why would he kneel?

     She says nothing on the matter, but is acutely aware of her position. Master is right in front of her; if she looked up too soon, she’d make direct eye contact. Master had once called that the greatest form of disrespect a creature like her could show. This made the position incredibly unnerving. One wrong move, and-

     “Look up.”

     Annalise is shocked. She remains perfectly still, but her heart is pounding. Look up? But, but that would mean-

     “Are you disobeying me?” Master asks firmly after she fails to obey. She quickly shakes her head. She’s just shocked, and scared.

     With no other option, the girl lifts her head. Her eyes are still tilted downward, but she’s close enough to Master that it doesn’t matter. She sees him very clearly, more clearly than she ever has since she had acted defiant and refused to avert her gaze. His jaw is sharp and his chin pointed, skin pale and lips full with long orange hair falling pin straight down his shoulders.

     As soon as her chin comes up, Master begins to brush a powder all over her face. She’s not sure what exactly it is, but she knows it is some sort of makeup. Something liquidy is applied to her cheeks before master then dots something cool under her eyes.

     Master is working silently, for the most part, and efficiently. He tells her to close her eyes, then brushes yet another powder over her eyelids, and coats her lashes with something thick and sticky. She doesn’t like the sensation, but she is silent. It’s much more bearable when her eyes reopen, anyways. Finally, Master smears a gloss across her lips, then tells her he’s finished. He turns the bench back to face the vanity.

     The mirror catches her eye quickly. Annalise stares at herself in the reflection. Master is standing behind her, but she doesn’t see him, only herself. 

     The satin and tulle layers of her dress cover a tiny frame, so small even Annalise herself feels shocked despite not remembering a baseline for herself. Even under the makeup, she notices she looks exhausted. The huge bags under her eyes are only thinly veiled by concealer, and her cheeks are sunken and hollow. Her hair, though beautifully curled, looks dull.

     Annalise doesn’t remember what she is supposed to look like, but it is not this. She’s sure it’s not this.

     Master’s voice suddenly booms from behind her as a frown starts to form on her lips.

     “You look just beautiful, don’t you, darling?”

     Annalise nods, though really, she couldn’t agree any less.

     “Let’s get out into the parlor, then. The guests will arrive any minute now. It took longer than I expected to bathe you.”

     Master scoops her back into his arms, a very familiar action by now, and begins to walk toward the bedroom door. Before he opens it, though, he warns her, “It’s much brighter out there. Close your eyes if you must, dear.”

     Annalise nods. Master was right, it’s unbearably bright, and as soon as he opens the door, she has to squeeze her eyes shut. She is curious about what the house looks like, but her curiosity is not strong enough to incline her to burn her eyes with the light over. Master chuckles, almost seeming amused by her adverse reaction. 

     They walk for a long time, a much longer period than it took them to get to the bathroom from the basement. Finally, though, Annalise is set down on another plush surface, though this one is much firmer than the bed, and has a hard backing. Master soon sits beside her, so close she can feel the piece of furniture they sit on dip with his weight.

     “Are you ready, darling? You are permitted to speak,” He asks, his voice soothing and calm.

     “I think-I think so,” Annalise murmurs. She’s beginning to open her eyes in short blinks, but the light is still so bright she can’t see much of anything.

     “Good. Just remember, my love, there are expectations. You are to follow every rule you already have, and additionally, you are to do whatever my guests may ask of you unless I directly tell you otherwise. They are not your master, but they are in charge, and you follow their commands unless they are overridden by me. Disrespecting any of them or misbehaving in their presence will have severe consequences. I expect you to behave perfectly. Do not ruin any part of this night for me. Understood, dear?

     Annalise nods. She isn’t cold, but she’s shaking again.

     “Good. I expect you’ll have a most exciting evening, then.”

     Annalise doesn’t respond. There is silence, just for a moment.

     Then there is a sharp, repeated banging on the front door, just feet away from the pair. Annalise jumps at the sounf, but Master simply stands and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.

     “You’ll do great. I’m sure of it.”

     He leans down to whisper into her ear. His breath is hot on her neck, raising goosebumps all over her body. 

     “After all, you have plenty of motivation.”

     He walks off to answer the door.

tags: @quirkykayleetam @vamplolz