#if you see missing words or unfinished details no you don’t <3

[rt-closetcryptic]

This took a while.

[icanhearcolors]

Close Encounter pt. 5

WOOOHOOO I did it besties. College has been kicking my you know what but I managed to write another chapterrrrr.

Forgive any grammar errors please, most of this was written at 1am and I don't have an editor.

Hope you liiiiiiiiiike

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

Word count: 5.2k

Color bleeds into peaceful darkness like ink spilled in water. The transition from unconsciousness to lucid dream happens so seamlessly you barely register the shift. The world around you focuses and sharpens until you are once again standing in a desolate purple sky. Levitating chunks of rock are scattered as far as you can see. Some are massive, some are as small as river rocks. You realize, as you creep up to the edge of the floating island you’re standing on, that each one hovers above a terrifying void full of swirling dust and shining constellations. The stars look close enough to touch. You kick some loose pebbles off the side of your rock and watch them descend until they fade out of existence, having fallen farther than your eyes can see. A heavy feeling weighs on your stomach. There’s something off about this place. Your head is quiet, your chest hollow. You feel empty.

“Finally.”

You swing around, your hands raising on instinct to cast a defense spell. For the first time in your life you feel nothing when you reach for the weave. That hum of magic that has lived in your chest since you were too small to remember is missing somehow. 

You drop your useless hands to your side and brace yourself to run instead as a figure approaches you. Their expression is placating, their hands raised in a calming gesture one would approach frightened animals with. 

You try to look them over, but by the time your gaze makes it to their plain black boots and back up you realize they look nothing like you thought they did a second ago. 

Their eyes are a different color, their hair lighter, and the shape of their jaw is different. You start over, determined to memorize every detail. You stop at their hands this time. Was their skin always purple?

That thought is yanked from your head with a lurch. You know there is something missing, but not what. Your chest tightens, your throat burns, your body reacts to some horrifying revelation that you can’t remember. The tadpole in your head squirms.

“Relax.” The creature says in a dozen different voices. 

“I apologize for my unfinished appearance. You’re early, I haven’t had time to work on this form yet. I was trying to perfect one that would comfort you, or at least help you to trust me.”

You meet their gaze and watch their pupils widen and swallow the whites of their eyes. Bones shift subtly under their skin, their joints move and bulge. They grow a foot taller. Their bones audibly grind. 

You take a panicked step back. The shapeshifting creature lunges for you, but it’s too late. Your foot comes down on nothing but empty space, and you lose your balance with a gasp. Gravity sucks you into the void below. 

You don’t even have time to scream before it swallows you whole.

You startle awake, wrestling with the blanket that might as well be tied around you until you manage to kick free of it and sit up, your chest heaving with huge gulping breaths that somehow don’t provide you with any oxygen. The sweat that slicks your clothes to your skin cools in the night air and you hug your knees to your chest. The darkness of the night feels unnatural. Alive even. The large campfire set up in the middle of your bedrolls works valiantly to fight it off. 

You see that your companions are set up in a circle around it. Astarion, Gale, and Lae’zel are all accounted for. Flickering shadows dance over each of their sleeping faces. Strangely, you notice there’s a fifth bedroll occupied on the opposite side of the fire. You squint to try and make out any details but darkness completely obscures the figure. Did one of your companions invite another traveler to join your group? 

You roll to your feet and creep closer to the sleeping stranger, a vague outline of a body under blankets. They’re almost unnaturally still. As far as you can tell their chest doesn’t rise and fall with breath. Upon closer inspection, you see that it’s almost as if the light of the fire deliberately avoids them. The flickering orange light only touches the ground a hand's width from either side of their bedroll. You take another step, and then another, until the light of the fire abandons you too. The shadows here have weight. They lie on your skin and whisper in your ear. Hushed voices beg you to turn around, to go back to sleep, to forget. 

You shake them off and hold up your hand, casting an orb of light. The shadows scream as they’re dispelled, and a thick silence befalls the grove. There is no crackling fire, or leaves shaking in the breeze, there is only the blood rushing in your ears and your pounding heartbeat. 

There’s a human girl lying on her back under a fur blanket, pale and unmoving. She looks peaceful. Something about her seems so familiar. You kneel down to study her face, and wince when the leg of your pants soaks with something warm and wet. You hold the light over the bedroll and realize it’s drenched in a dark liquid. It reeks of rot and iron. 

You’re kneeling in a puddle of blood. 

Startled, you glance back up at the girl’s face. 

Her eyes are open. 

They’re clouded with death, but you remember them. The druid from the grove you couldn’t save.

A single tear falls from her eye.

The light in your hand winks out.

The shadows laugh.

You wake up with a gasp in your camp once more, tangled in your bedroll. The sky is decorated in the red and orange rays of the setting sun. Like before, the cold air all but freezes the sweat on your skin and wracks your body with shivers. The temperature drop from day to night was startling out here in the wilds. 

“I think I’m in hell” You hiss through chattering teeth.

“I never imagined the nine hells of Baator to be so frigid, but I suppose considering our luck it is a possibility.” A familiar voice responds.

You turn to find that Gale is tossing chunks of meat into a cauldron of boiling stew over the fire you’re lying next to. The smell of it is so sinfully good you almost start drooling. You don’t trust it. You stand on shaky legs and lean forward, poking Gale in the cheek.

Gale regards you with concern, his brow furrowed. He makes no move to push you away, but he looks deeply confused.

“I will admit, I haven’t exactly been a paragon of sociality these past few years, but I think I would have noticed if it suddenly became appropriate to greet someone by way of- whatever it is you’re currently doing.”

“As a paragon of sociality I must disagree, keep up the good work Tav.” Astarion calls from somewhere behind you. 

Gale glares at the vampire over your shoulder, but you pay no mind to their squabbling. Gale’s skin is warm under your finger.

“You feel so lifelike.” 

You grab him by the chin and tilt his head in every direction, looking for the flaw that will prove you’re still dreaming. 

He swats your hand away and leans as far back as he can away from your grasping fingers.

“Ooookay. I think the whole stabbing situation may have had more negative consequences than we originally thought. You should sit down.”

That’s a good idea. You can just wait here. You’ll have to wake up eventually.

You nod and unceremoniously plop back down on your bedroll. Your eyes are stuck unfocused and staring at nothing at all. Your mind is curiously empty. You think you should be feeling something, but honestly you’re just numb. 

A few moments later Astarion drops gracefully into a crouch in front of you, leaning down to catch your eyes.

“Hey Tav? What’s goin on?”

“I’m waiting to wake up.”

He doesn’t even wait for you to finish speaking before he strikes, bluntly flicking you between the eyes.

You rear back in shock and rub your stinging skin.

“This wouldn't be the first time someone's looked at me and assumed they were dreaming but you’re not asleep Tav.”

“What the fuck Astarion!?”

He smiles, eyes alight with smug satisfaction.

“There she is. You’ve been out of commission for far too long, hero. If I have to hear one more story about Gale’s glory days I’m going to beg you to kill me.”

Gale scoffs.

“Keep making comments like that and you’ll go to bed hungry.”

“He won’t be able to eat what you’re making anyway.” You attempt to remind Gale before you realize he doesn’t know about Astarion’s… special diet.

The vampire holds up his hand as if to flick you again, an evil glint in his eye.

You flinch back in genuine fear. Your forehead still stings, you’d like to avoid a repeat.

“Ah,” Gale nods in solemn understanding. “Allergies?” 

“Something like that” Astarion agrees, glaring at you.

You clear your throat nervously and glance around.

“Where is Lae’zel?” You change the subject.

“Just listen” Gale responds and tilts his head toward the trees just outside your encampment.

Sure enough you can hear the rhythmic thwack of steel on wood. 

“What is she doing?”

“We needed firewood, the Githyanki needed to violently take her anger out on a tree, everyone wins” Astarion shrugs.

“Didn’t she have a concussion?” You ask. Gale nods.

“I wouldn’t mention it if I were you. She’s rather put out about it. She’s fine though. The Druidic healers were most competent. All four of us have been thoroughly examined and healed of all ailments. Well, other than the tadpoles of course. We still have those. Other than that, any remaining injuries are purely psychological.”  

You nod, reminded of your nightmares.

“And how do I fix those?” 

Astarion reaches into his pocket and pulls out a flask, tilting it toward you in offering.

You frown and shake your head, the idea of drinking on such an empty stomach makes you nauseous.

“You asked” he shrugs and tips the remaining contents of the flask into his mouth. He stands and offers you a hand, which you take, and pulls you easily to your feet. Your shoulder throbs in protest, and you start to wonder how “healed” it really is.

Gale loudly announces that the food is ready, prompting Lae’zel to trudge out of the forest a few moments later dragging a small tree behind her. It wrenches the plants from the earth and leaves a deep trench in the ground. 

Maybe you’ll avoid Lae’zel for the night. 

She seems a little upset in a way you’re not equipped to deal with. 

Astarion turns and strides into the forest, presumably to look for his own meal.

You serve yourself a massive portion and eat in appreciative silence, scarfing down the only food you’ve had since being kidnapped. 

When you’ve scraped the bottom of the bowl for every last drop, you turn to Gale, a question you’ve been dying to ask on the tip of your tongue. 

“Gale, you seem to know a bit about cera-“ you trail off as the name of your condition eludes you.

“Ceremorphosis?” Gale finishes for you, and you snap your fingers. 

“Yes! Ceremorphosis. I was wondering if you knew how long we have to… well- live?”

Gale’s expression sobers. He reaches down and grabs a few dry twigs, tossing them into the fire. 

“I only know what I’ve read, I have no first hand experience, but I’ve found the general consensus is seven days.” 

You nod, placing your bowl on the ground next to you as the food sours in your stomach.

“Six days to find a cure then. Surely more has been done with less” you mutter.

Gale nods and leans back on his elbows, studying the night sky.

“We’ll figure something out. I won’t die this way. I refuse to.” 

His conviction is almost strong enough that you believe him. Almost.

When the conversation dies out Gale retires to his tent to learn the spells etched into the scrolls he took from the grove merchant. Lae’zel pulls out her greatsword and begins hacking away at a wooden dummy, presumably left by one of the druids.

You turn your gaze to the crossbow haphazardly tossed to the ground near your bedroll. You had slept for hours after the battle, and Gale’s surprisingly good stew had energized you. There was no way you’d be able to sleep now. Out here on the sword coast the stars were bright enough to cast the grove in a soft blue light. Now was as good a time as any to learn a new skill. Besides, if you sit around wallowing in your impending doom for a moment longer you may take yourself out before the tadpole gets its chance to. You pick up the hefty weapon and stride into the forest, away from any potentially judgemental eyes. You walk for a long time. The dense forest is far too compact for you to practice with a ranged weapon in, so you hike until you stumble upon a small clearing.

You ready yourself and pull the bowstring back until you hear something click. So far so good. You load the bow with one of the five bolts that came with it and aim for the knot of a rather large oak tree. You pull the trigger and watch the bolt sail into the dark woods, far from the tree you were aiming for.

You shake it off, it’s your first attempt after all. You reload the crossbow, take aim, and once again watch as it disappears into the darkness. Maybe doing this at night in the forest wasn’t the best idea. Imagining digging through the bramble bushes to retrieve your missing bolts makes you wonder how bad ceremorphosis could actually be. As much as you don’t want to admit it, it rankles you that you’re terrible at this.

You lean against the nearest tree and slide down it, rubbing at your aching chest. You swear you can hear a clock ticking faintly in your ears. You have six days to live. The cold nights will give rise to the winter solstice in a month or two. If you had known last year’s celebration had been your last, maybe you would have actually celebrated it instead of locking yourself in your office and pouring over the mountains of paperwork your boss had asked you to look over. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, taking a deep breath through your nose. You allow the rustling leaves and the scent of the cool earth to calm you.

A twig snaps.

You freeze.

After a few moments of tense silence, you release the breath you’d been holding. You’re being paranoid. The most dangerous creatures in these woods are bears, and the druids seem to have befriended most of them. You’re safe.

You take a few more deep breaths when you hear it again, a branch snapping along with heavy breathing, from a rather large creature as far as you can tell.

You scramble to arm the bow with a bolt and hold it defensively in front of you. 

You haven’t managed to hit a target once, but whatever roams these woods doesn’t need to know that.

The breathing gets louder as the creature draws closer, snapping branches and crunching leaves under its heavy feet.

You watch as a snout emerges from the bushes in front of you, followed by tusks. A boar shoves its way through brambles and into your little clearing. It spots you, then your crossbow. Its eyes widen with a recognition you didn’t realize boars were capable of. It squeals and whips around, its legs scrambling beneath it as it flees back into the dark forest. You breathe a sigh of relief and lower the crossbow, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll need instruction if you ever hope to use it. 

“What are you doing?” Someone asks so close to you, you feel their breath caress the shell of your ear.

You yelp in shock and drop the crossbow on your foot, letting out a slew of curses a sailor from the pirate isles would blush over.

Astarion is crouched behind you, one hand on the tree you’re leaning against, an exaggerated look of disappointment on his face.

“If I were a monster you’d be dead right now.”

“You’re an undead vampire, I think you qualify, and yet-” You pause to press two fingers to the pulse point in your neck, 

“Yep. Still alive!” You shout.

The boar squeals in the woods somewhere, startling you. Astarion grips his stomach and laughs from somewhere deep in his chest.

“What is it with you and pigs?” You hiss. 

“You’re lucky the wilds are full of those boars you know. I go long enough without feeding and our friends' necks start looking very appetizing.”

You sigh and throw your head back in exasperation, perhaps slightly too hard. Acting on reflex, Astarion catches the back of your head before it can slam into the bark of the tree behind you.

“You’re welcome” 

“I don’t have the energy to banter with you Astarion. Leave.”

He promptly does the opposite and takes a seat next to you, leaning against your tree.

“What’s gotten into you?”

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Mind flayer larvae.”

“Ah. So all this moping is about the illithid.”

“I’m not moping.” 

“Yes, you are, and you have every reason to.”

“So do you. According to Gale the tadpoles kill their hosts within a week's time. It doesn’t bother you that we might die soon?”

“My circumstances are… different.”

The response confuses you. The way you see it, everyone that survived the nautiloid is in the exact same situation.

“How so?”

Astarion presses the heel of his hand into his chin and cracks his neck on either side, stalling for time as he thinks of an answer. He sighs.

“If we fail, and I die in the wilderness somewhere a few days from now, I will have traded an eternity of darkness and starvation for a week of sunlight and freedom. Obviously I’d rather not die. I’d give just about anything to live long enough to give Cazador the brutal death I’ve been fantasizing about for oh- a couple hundred years now. But if I don’t get that chance, at least I will die as Astarion, not Cazador’s pet.”

You place a hand over your chest, genuinely moved and only slightly disturbed by that explanation.

“Astarion that was beautiful'' You turn and press your lips together in suppressed laughter at the regretful look on his face.

“No no no, you keep moping, your life has gotten dramatically worse. Continue being sad about it.”

“Well that was the plan but now I’m all inspired by your optimism in the face of imminent death.”

Astarion groans and pushes off the tree.

“That’s disgusting. I’m not an optimist.”

Your answering smile shows all your teeth.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I thought you weren’t in the mood to banter.”

“What can I say? You bring it out of me.”

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head. His face lights up with some epiphany, and he yanks two crossbow bolts out of his belt to wave them in front of your face.

“Missing something?”

You snatch the bolts from his hand with a grumbled thank you.

His expression remains passive but his eyes fill with mischief. 

“How did you get these?” 

“I was on my way back from my meal when I almost lost an eye to one of them.” He taps his finger against the razor sharp tip of one of the bolts in your hand. 

“It’s how I found you in the first place.”

He motions toward the crossbow resting on the ground by your feet. 

“I can show you how to use that. If you’d like.”

You were just thinking about how you needed someone to show you how to properly shoot the thing. Maybe a distraction is exactly what you need.

“I would.”

He leans down and picks up the crossbow. He loads and fires it within seconds, pinning a falling leaf to the trunk of a nearby tree.

You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Just making sure it works.”

You expect Astarion to teach the way he does everything else, by flirting with you in a way that makes you wonder if he’s trying to seduce you or eat you. You brace yourself, but the witty remarks don’t come. Astarion simply shows you how pulling back the bowstrings unevenly can make it hard to aim, the timing of when to pull the trigger, and how to account for the wind. He’s a fantastic tudor, and he whistles loudly when you hit your target for the first time. You go from being unable to hit anything to being able to hit within the general vicinity of your chosen mark most of the time within an hour or so. 

“That’s all the basics. Your aim isn’t exactly spot on but that’s not something I can teach you. You need to trust your instincts more.”

“My instincts are broken” You sigh.

“I’ve noticed,” he says darkly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’ve spent the last hour or so alone in the dark woods with someone you know would eat you alive given half a chance.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, that would completely negate the whole saving me from the goblin thing earlier. Besides, you just had your fill of boar blood, you can’t still be hungry.”

“You adorable, naive little thing. I wasn’t talking about drinking your blood.”

You shove at his shoulder as hard as you can and he stumbles a step to the side, chuckling like the deviant he is. You’re almost relieved to have the relentless flirt back. The patient encouraging version of Astarion that taught you how to shoot a crossbow was harder to wrap your brain around.

He sobers quickly.

“Does it scare you?” He asks suddenly, as if he couldn’t hold back the words anymore.

“What?” You ask.

“What I am.”

Oh.

“Honestly?”

“Well I didn’t ask you to test your deception skills.”

“Yes.” You answer plainly, and Astarion nods, his expression intentionally neutral.

“Your instincts may not be so broken after all.”

As you gather the scattered bolts from the trunks of surrounding trees, an odd sensation builds in the center of you. You feel… guilty? Astarion both defended you and taught you how to defend yourself in one evening, and you hadn’t done a single thing for him. You feel like you owe him, and you hate owing people.

You know he despises being thanked, but maybe he wouldn’t mind exchanging one favor for another.

You place the bolts in your quiver and return to Astarion.

“I have something for you.”

His blank expression flickers with an emotion you can’t pinpoint.

“Should I be nervous?”

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the amulet you procured from the druid merchant. You hold it between you, watching the pendant sway instead of meeting his eyes.

“It’s a magical item. It allows a person, even someone not versed in magic, to use the spell contained within it. This one holds misty step. It’s a short-distance teleportation spell. You’re our archer, so I thought you could use it to find high ground in a fight faster than if you had to climb for it.” You brave a glance up.

Astarion reaches for the amulet, then drops his hand back down to his side. He looks almost scared of it.

“It won’t bite you.” You joke- an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“I just- I haven’t been given a gift in over two hundred years.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t surprise you.

“I’d like to change that, if you’ll let me.”

He holds out a hand and you drop the pendant into it. He examines it for a moment.

“I have no idea how to use this.” 

You smile.

“I could teach you, if you’d like.”

~~~

“I’m beginning to think there is no magic in this necklace and you’re just testing how long I’ll fall for your tricks.” Astarion growls several minutes later from his meditative position on the ground. 

You sit next to him, your legs crossed in an identical position, your head tipped back. 

“As I said, magic casting isn’t a physical skill, it's a metaphysical one. If you can’t reach for the amulet you won’t move an inch.”

Astarion opens one eye to make sure you’re not looking and reaches for the necklace.

“With your soul not your hand.” 

He drops his hand back into his lap.

“I don’t have one of those darling.”

“It’s a figure of speech darling.” 

He opens one eye again and smirks.

“Careful” He warns in an eerily hypnotic voice, and the hair on the back of your neck rises.

You rub the tingling skin and fix your companion with an admonishing look. 

“Keep your vampire mojo to yourself and focus.”

He closes his eyes and bows his head. His mess of curly white hair immediately falls over his face. He looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him.

“The magic in the amulet can be felt. It’s full of unreleased energy. It wants to connect with you. All you have to do is allow it. Imagine your consciousness can move independently of your body and reach out to it.”

Astarion’s face scrunches in concentration, and you wait patiently as he tries to connect with the amulet.

A twinge in your skull makes you wince, distracting you. It feels different from the tadpole’s usual antics. Something clicks into place, and you feel a new presence slide into your already crowded mind. Astarion had linked you two somehow.

You feel the exact moment he realizes he’s not alone in his own head. His eyes shoot open and the connection snaps as quickly as it formed.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I think I reached too far.”

“I wanted you to use the amulet not possess me!”

“You possessed me back!”

“Okay, it’s fine, just- try again. Aim for the amulet this time.”

Astarion closes his eyes again and you stare up at the stars, praying to whatever god was listening for patience.

His gasp brings you back down to reality, and when you face Astarion again his eyes are swirling with silver light.

You scramble to your feet and hastily back up several paces.

“We only get one shot at this until your next rest so make it count. Focus on the ground in front of me and just take a step. You should end up exactly where you want to be.”

He stands slowly, and stares pointedly at the ground at your feet. He lifts his foot, and disappears.

He apparates again no more than an inch away from you, and you lurch back in surprise, stumbling over your own feet. You reach out for something to grab to slow your fall, the closest thing happening to be Astarion, and you take him down with you.

He lands sprawled on top of you with a groan, and you wheeze as the breath is knocked out of you.

Astarion pushes himself up on his elbows, your noses an inch apart. His eyes still glow, the after effects of the spell he cast. He looks almost like a normal elven man in the moments before his usual red bleeds back in, crowding out the silver. You think about his question from earlier, does it scare you- what I am? A vision of a non-vampiric Astarion fills your mind. His eyes metallic, his skin tone warmer, his canines short and dull. This version is in no way preternaturally graceful. His gait is hurried, even clumsy at times. The sharpest thing he ever handles is a letter opener, and occasionally, he slips up and slices his finger when he’s rushing to get done with his work. The sight of the red blood that drips onto the white paper makes him woozy, so he rushes for a bandage, hastily wrapping the wound while refusing to look at it. He isn’t the most observant, but he’s whip smart, and a talented orator. He’s a little cocky but with the bright future ahead of him he has every right to be. He ascends to the role of magistrate in no time. He makes mostly fair judgments, but the lower city of Baldur’s Gate is cut throat, and one night on his way back home from a long night, he turns down the wrong street. 

For better or worse that elf died that night. The man you know is someone else entirely, and has been for centuries. It was the vampire, not the mortal, that saved your life earlier in the day.

Your shoulder throbs when your thoughts shift to earlier in the day. You see in your mind the goblin that sunk its jagged blade into your shoulder, and the murderous look in its dull yellow eyes. The arrow that pierced its neck had spared you a dreadful end.

As if he can sense your thoughts, Astarion’s eyes cut to your shoulder. His smirk fades, and he pulls down the collar of your shirt just enough to reveal your new scar. Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, he traces the raised red line with his thumb. His cool skin feels amazing against the still-healing angry scar, and you can’t help the shudder that moves through you. Astarion’s gaze returns to yours, and you’re surprised to find his expression is absolutely wrathful.

“I killed that wretched creature far too quickly,”

“Personally I thought your timing was spot on.”

“Hmm.” Is his only response.

In a moment you become hyper-aware of every place his body touches yours. He’s settled on top of you, one leg between yours, most of his weight propped on his elbow, his other hand still stroking that damn scar. It’s becoming hard for you to think clearly. He on the other hand seems wholly unaffected, lost in his murderous thoughts. You clear your throat to get his attention.

“You can get up now.”

He seems to realize as you did the rather intimate position you two landed in, and a smile slowly creeps onto his face.

“I’m rather comfortable where I’m at”

You know he’s instigating, but the bait is too tempting. 

“Move or I’ll move you.”

His smile turns devious.

“You think you can?”

There’s a challenge in that question. One you’re not entirely sure you can meet. Still, you lift your chin defiantly.

“I do”

He leans in, his jaw brushing your cheek as he brings his mouth to your ear.

“Very convincing.” He whispers, “I’d believe you if I couldn’t hear how fast your heart is racing.” 

You can’t think of a witty retort. 

You can’t think at all.

He leans back with a self satisfied look you desperately want to wipe off his smug face.

So, you reach up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and do the only thing you know will surprise him.

You bring his mouth to yours.

~~~~

Gettin shpoicy

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[tavyliasin]

Writer Interview Tag

I was tagged by @redroomroaving and once I'd finished feeling about a hundred emotions from reading I managed to follow it up.

I definitely got a little personal as well, and I know I’m prone to rambling so I’ll pop the questions and answers below the cut. A mild CW for discussion of physical pain and some very very light mentions of mental health. Tagging @morb-untamed @sweetmage @dmbakura @hydropyro @ineadhyn @nicocoer @wixed to do this if you would like to, but there is absolutely no pressure to talk about yourselves or in any personal detail. And anyone else reading this who I missed tagging (I forget names and tags so often, forgive me) please feel free to use me as your tag-in and let me know so I can read your answers too.

When did you start writing?

I have no idea, truly. Stories and reading were a big part of my life since before I could read, and as soon as I could read independently I devoured books and imagined stories in quiet moments. There are a few things I’ve worked on under another name, another identity, but no massive published works. A couple of unfinished SFW fanfics, and some larger original projects that remain on hiatus. As for writing smut and spice and taking fanfic more seriously? That all started in September 2023, and has just grown from there. I was hesitant at first, and you’ll see that in my early author notes, but from there I feel I’ve truly grown in my style and skill, as well as my creativity and ability to delve into character details and kink alike.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Since writing more, I’ve become a terrible reader. I can’t really focus on it for long because my brain goes into ADHD rebellion and says “no, no, we don’t want to read story we want to create story” which is endlessly frustrating when I have stacks of unread books and a ton of fics earmarked by very talented authors. I will say there is a particular thing many may notice in my works – when writing, I very rarely refer to genitalia in direct terms. It’s just a personal preference when writing, you won’t find the word “cock” in any of my works, but contrary to how it might sound I have absolutely no issue with reading it in the works of others. I am an odd creature, I freely admit that. So…yes, there are themes, pairings, styles, and vocabulary features that I enjoy reading but do not write myself.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don’t hear comparisons really, and I don’t aim to emulate anyone either, though I will admit I try to keep just a few little moments of humour or sly winks to the audience in similar ways to Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams. Just those quick lines or cutaways that for a moment join reader and author in a little shared joke.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I can only really write comfortably in one place, at my PC. I have 3 screens set up around my seat, which is actually the end seat of a reclining sofa, so I have a heated pad behind my back to reduce pain. I have a mini fridge with drinks on the table beside me with the side screen that has Discord on it at all times, my larger screen (the TV) sometimes has character images for reference or notes or just Spotify up so I can swap songs and playlists quickly. The last screen is in front of me on a table that goes over my footrest, and my keyboard is on a lap desk over my legs. 

I’ll almost always have my headphones on, and a small fan when it gets too warm. Sometimes I do end up a little chaotic with snacks in reach and meds also on the table so I don’t have to have anyone fetch them for me.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It can’t be controlled. The muse is as fickle as it is demanding, when it’s there it wants everything all at once, and when it’s gone?... It leaves a devastating emptiness that honestly I struggle with at times. Even right now, tonight I planned to write, but when I finally got the free time and got set up…nothing feels appealing to try. So I’m doing this instead, and not forcing it. 

There are things I try at times, and things I recommend, too. First? Before you start writing, tend to your basic needs. Do you need a drink? Food? Relevant medication? A nap? A talk with a friend? A bit of fresh air or physical movement? If one of these needs hasn’t been met, it’ll likely soon become an obstacle to your writing. I like to have a drink and snack ready and with me when I start so it’s there as and when I might need it, and I do rely on caffeine like a stereotypically unmedicated ADHD author…

Second, set the mood. It can help for some people to have this routine, to get their playlist going, to be in the right place, to have the things that set a whole zone and bubble. For a while, I had a specific hat I would wear when writing for another project. I could tell myself “I am putting the hat on now, so I will focus and do this thing” and in some way it trained me to write more. I know others who have done things like always listening to a specific genre of music to write, so now when they hear that genre they get the urge to write. Third is take a shower. Nothing gives me more ideas than a good shower, and I even bought a waterproof notepad and pencil set so I can make those notes whilst in there and not fret about forgetting an idea. Other than that, I recommend going back to the thing that inspired you to write. Play the game or watch scenes with the characters you want to write about, find their voices and mindsets. You can also close your eyes and imagine the scene like a play – put the characters on your stage at the start of the scene and watch what they do in the scenario. Let them show you how they react. Some people also do well to write out a plan or bulletpoints, but I find personally this can bite me in the ass because the process of writing can often stray from my original plan. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it can feel frustrating that I didn’t use ideas that I was initially passionate about.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Ah here it is. Whilst I could go quite simply with the kinks that I keep utilising that don’t surprise me in the slightest – I know well that I enjoy writing a spicy shifting of power balance between strong-minded characters, as well as a lot of BDSM kink – there are deeper parts to this. Identity. That’s a theme that keeps rearing its head beneath a lot of works, and you’ll find it most noticeable in how I write both Haarlep and He Who Was, but it tends to worm its way into other things too. It…did not surprise me, though, because it’s something I have struggled with over this past year within myself.

I created this name, this identity, as a way to be comfortable in sharing kink fiction and spicy works without it being easily identifiable under my actual name. I still don’t like to be too personal, or share my face or real name under this one, because I would rather keep a few close friends and family out of sight of my fandom thirsting. I’m certain a lot of us are the same – it isn’t really about shame but knowing that I, and they, would likely not be comfortable discussing this level of subject matter. I’ve relaxed a little over time, and have no doubt that a few may have worked out who I am and simply kept it quiet which I appreciate endlessly, just as I appreciate that those who do know both of my identities have never shared that information or made it public. I’m happy to meet people in person, just not to have my self online shared with my other self, as I’m sure you can understand. Anyway, I digress…

Something that the keen-eyed accomplice might have noticed in me is a shift in my speech. I used a few more mannerisms and speech patterns, particularly terms of endearment, under this name when I began. It was a way to separate the self, as well as to engage with a different audience in a different way. I explained it to the few who knew both early on as “same person, different font”, because I don’t change who I am just a few parts of how I speak or interact…but I’ve dropped a lot of the endearments now. Partly because there were more than a few who expressed they were uncomfortable with this in conversation – which I fully respect and understand – so it was easier to just drop them entirely rather than double checking or switching vocabulary between people and servers. But it has also fallen away a little as I have become more comfortable with both sides of myself, allowing them to integrate again more, and I owe a good amount of that to being able to meet fandom friends in person and find that they didn’t turn away from knowing all of me and instead have become even better friends. 

So…yes, the theme of names and identity keeps popping up. The power of names, the importance of identity, how one can hold on to one’s sense of self when it feels as if it is wavering, or when a role must be played. It’s little wonder I was so strongly drawn to so many favourites. Another recurring theme, of course, is pain. Physical. Whilst this is often in the form of kink and pain play, I’ve written a few pieces where it has been a point that is not about the sexual and positive side. I am in pain. 24/7. Without end. It will not get better. It has been this way for over 10 years. The level of the pain is “I cannot walk more than 10 metres before it is too much”, and “I have to drastically reduce and monitor my physical activity to prevent pain getting worse”, so I feel very intimately familiar with pain. You’ll find it in my writing as visceral and detailed descriptions of the sensations, because I’ve felt every one of them and might just be feeling them in that moment as I write. 

I’m going to keep trying to write short comfort pieces, too. Because as I once wrote as a dialogue line for Halsin, when Tav asked how he always seemed to know the right thing to say:  

“Sometimes we say the things we need to hear the most.” 

What is your reason for writing?

Every reason ever. There’s…not a lot I can do in this body. So many hopes and dreams and even careers I’ve had to leave behind, through the struggles of mental and physical health. Whilst the former is far better, the latter is the issue… But writing is something I can do with little physical effort. If I’m in pain, I can take my medication and absorb into fiction. 

I started writing smut as a challenge, but also as a way to tell a story I was becoming rather attached to. My main longfic was one born from playing the game, and wondering about telling the story between the lines, giving reason to the choice the player character was making under my instruction. Since then, it has grown to be so much more.

I’d love to sit here and tell you “I only write for myself, I don’t need external validation” but that…would be a half-truth at best. I write because I love sharing these stories, I love that they can reach out and touch hearts and minds in ways I might never know, but I adore when someone does send back their echo across the vast void between us to say “I enjoyed this” or “this story made me feel something”. That’s…it’s everything to know I have some value. Which sounds a lot like I’m pinning my self-worth on feedback or kudos, and whilst I can’t deny that’s a hard habit to break, I do know it isn’t everything. I just want it to still be something. To know I can do more than just…exist. 

Truly if you were to ask me what I feel the purpose is to my entire life, it would be “to leave each corner of the world I touch a little brighter and better than it was before I got there”, and whilst I know that’s impossible to do all the time I still want to try. And writing? Sharing stories? That’s leaving a positive mark, giving someone enjoyment in their day – yes, even sexually, with the kinky and sexy writing. That is still a positive to someone’s day, an indulgence, something that lifts them and certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

If I can do more than that with emotional writing, with comfort pieces, with cathartic moments and with stories that have more meaning behind the words…all the better.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

The best are the ones that pull out favourite lines or moments, but honestly every single comment means the world to me. An incoherent keysmash, a simple “I loved this”, even those are such a boost particularly on a hard day. 

Readers, please know how much it helps. Even a click on the kudos as an anonymous guest, it’s…it lets us know we aren’t just shouting into the void. It tells us those Hits are not people just opening up the fic then closing it because they hated it. It means the whole world to know we’ve done something that you enjoyed, in whatever way that was.

I’ll also say that some of the ones that have meant the most and have stuck with me are comments on the more personal pieces, like with The Love of Loviatar – the Abdirak x Reader fic where I play a little with worlds colliding to allow a reader character who experiences chronic pain (remarkably similar to my own, don’t think about that too hard) to have that moment with Abdirak who validates and appreciates them exactly how they are. Gentle care mixed with BDSM, trading the bad pain for the good pain, the pain that is welcome and has purpose, a little fantasy of enjoying what the body can do rather than being trapped by what it cannot… Every time I get a comment there, I damn near cry. Or just openly cry. They mean so much. I know how much Abdirak can mean to us, and I am so glad I can reach you all. 

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I…well… To be thought of at all is an honour. I’m shocked any time I encounter someone who has read my works, despite logically knowing I have a good number of readers from the numbers alone. I just…don’t look at those numbers often, it’s not good for me. 

I’d like readers to know I care about them. Every last one. To know I would love to tell all the stories they want to read, and that I fully welcome their messages, comments, and even friendship when we share social spaces. There’s something special about the connections we can make in unexpected places, and I’m just delighted to be here sharing stories with you all. 

I don’t need high respect, endless adoration, or some kind of pedestal. I’m a human, unfortunately – squishy and fallible and flawed and suffering and there is still beauty and worth to me even when I don’t see it myself. Just saying that last part louder for everyone else who has loud negative thoughts of themselves. It’s ok for you to see my flaws, and it’s ok for us all to have love for one another despite those flaws. Love in the platonic sense, of course – there are levels of connections we make with people from a distant echo of a brief exchange of words to the direct warmth of a friendship. It’s as important to not underestimate the value as it is important to not overestimate our closeness to people we don’t truly know.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I am beginning to believe it is the wild ideas I have for crackship pairings and turning them into something serious and meaningful. I love taking an unlikely coupling then finding what makes them actually genuinely work. 

I’m also getting quite confident in sensual writing as well as kink, in the particular style that I have for it. I know well that it isn’t to everyone’s tastes, but those who do enjoy my style and method will always have something in the buffet of fic to fill their plate.

I really hope to transfer this to my original work when I get it finished, as I feel like just maybe I might have a niche of style that isn’t as often seen in published works. Then again, I’m not exactly devouring raunchy original fiction so perhaps I’m entirely mistaken and would get ripped to shreds by critics of the genre. Who knows? But I will try to get published when it’s done. I hope a few of you might even read it someday.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Ahh definitely both. I have written characters and pairings I’m not personally into that much, though sometimes (Yurgir) I have found myself enjoying the character after writing with them. It’s a fun little quirk, I start writing something thinking “am I into this?” and realise later “oops new kink acquired” or “ahh ok I see why people like [character] so much now.” 

I do really love writing requests or rare pairings/characters that readers haven’t seen before or are excited to see more of. I hope to keep doing a mix of that and the characters/pairings that I love most myself. If there’s something you’d like to see, I’m more than happy to take suggestions – there are a few kinks, characters, and tropes that I have a hard “nope” line on (not kink shaming, just personal comfort levels – I love that you can enjoy those things elsewhere I am just not the chef to cook that dish for you) but otherwise I love wild ideas and writing something that someone explicitly wants to read~

How do you feel about your own writing?

I really struggle with this one, but I think many of us do. I go from feeling confident that people enjoy what I’ve written and that I have this skill to bring worlds and characters to life with mere words on a page, yet other times? I will freely admit some works of mine take longer because I just hit this point where I just cannot tell if it’s any good. I know intellectually that I have the same style, tropes, stories, kinks that people like and enjoy, but as I’m sat there staring at it I’m questioning everything because I’m just not feeling it. That seems pretty natural, I think, that we are the worst critics of our own works because we’ve read them so many times or thought far too hard about every word and line… But I tend to solve this with an external view. Beta Readers have saved works from near extinction by checking it over, telling me what does need fixing, and reminding me that actually the rest of it is just fine I’m simply overthinking it all because my mind is struggling with something else like fatigue or pain or just a low kind of day.

So… Overall, writing has been a new life for me. Particularly in this last year, trying something new – expanding into NSFW fanfic has found me countless new connections, friends, experiences I wouldn’t have had otherwise and a real feeling of accomplishment and validation that just wasn’t happening in WIPs that were taking too long and getting no feedback at all. 

Writing isn’t just something I do, it’s inextricably a part of who I am, and in its own way it continues to shape exactly what “who I am” can mean.

And I am grateful to every single one of you who has shared this journey with me so far. I cannot wait to see how far we can go together~

[rriavian]

For a prompt from @windsweptinred for the flower prompts we're doing with @bobbole. Still unfinished but I already had a short wip that the prompt worked really well with, and it was the kick I needed to get going with it a little more. Still very very rough but thought I'd share :) Hope you like it! <3

The Corinthian and Calliope: Rose, yellow, A murderer's confession, Prompt Jealousy—

After his failure to persuade Ethel Cripps to work with him the Corinthian seeks out another who might have cause to seek revenge against Dream.

Calliope surprises him.

-

Calliope knows the Corinthian, of course.

She had met Dream’s masterpiece while she was married.

She had heard of him long before, an impression built by Dream’s soft smile, the excitement glittering subtle in his eyes as he told her of his latest creation, a design he traced in sand as if proud to show off even an outline. Calliope has not seen the Corinthian since—to be expected, given both how she’d parted ways with Morpheus and the reality of her current situation—a surprise when she hears the door to her room open, sees a bloodstained knife glitter in the light. Next it catches in golden blond hair, scatters from the gleam of teeth; a memory in that too, of Oneiros and his painstaking hunt for exactly the right shades, his dedication to it, unwilling to give anything less than his very best to every single thing he made.

Calliope must admit she still admires him for that.

Then her eyes find the changes, the additions, the soft cream of the Corinthian’s coat, the dark opaque sunglasses hiding biting mouths. There is a deliberate slowness in how he now cleans the bloodied knife, how he wants her to watch it, to think about what must have happened to the only other occupant in Richard Madoc’s house. Calliope can feel that her captor isn’t dead, can feel it in the chains that keep her trapped here, knows exactly why this nightmare has approached her like this.

The Corinthian is a story stood close enough that she can read her former husband’s writing in the blurb, a compliment to the Corinthian’s own script when she reads further to find his finely printed prose.

He wants leverage.

“Corinthian.” Calliope greets calmly. “It has been some time.”

“Fancy finding you here.” The Corinthian replies with a sharp, mocking grin, not even bothering to pretend this wasn’t planned. “An oddly poetic coincidence, given what’s happened to Dream.”

He thinks to lure her into asking.

Calliope won’t.

“Do not speak to me of poetry.”

The Corinthian pauses. “You already know, don’t you?”

“That Oneiros has been captured? Yes.”

It amuses her that the Corinthian thought to tell her, thought to begin the game with the upper hand. The Fates had filled in more details, had gloated when she’d called for help, but even before that Calliope had known that Morpheus was missing. Of course she’d known, how could she not?, how could any immortal remain unawares to the disappearance of Dream of the Endless?

"He's free now." The Corinthian replies, leans against the door frame as if a slouch will make the words less targeted, throws hope at her and watches for a flinch. "Do you think he'll come for you?"

Calliope must admit that makes her stiffen.

"Do you think he will if I call him?"

A shrug.

There's tension though.

There's a minute grimace trying to twist the Corinthian's lips, a page torn out before Calliope can read it. The grin remains. He stays smug, grounds himself to it, more than a little overconfident because he’s gloating far too soon.

“I did it, you know. Strengthened the trap.” The Corinthian says slyly, watches her from where he's still leaning in the doorway, watches how Calliope sits on this bed in Richard Madoc's house while a few feet a way a door has long since stood unlocked. “It’s my fault he was there for so long.”

Now it's Calliope's turn to shrug. “So?”

The Corinthian seems entertained by her tone, even as it confuses him, even as he tries to get his teeth around it. “I want to ensure he’ll be gone a lot longer.”

“Then I wish you well in finding the luck you are hoping for, because you will certainly be needing it.” Calliope replies coolly.

“C’mon,” The Corinthian has been lazily circling his point like a vulture, like a wolf guiding prey towards a favoured terrain, now still as he prepares to lunge. “Aren’t you the least bit tempted?”

“By what?”

“Revenge.”

He’s said it because the Corinthian thinks it's something of what she wants. He thinks it’s bait that isn’t possible to resist, thinks it because there is a similar desire in him, sitting unrealised in his chest like a stone. Calliope wonders what her former husband did, wonders if it even matters, because she also knows that revenge is a second, a flicker, a blink in response to a blinding. It’s too fast, too instant to really register for someone as long lived as her; she cannot feast on something so small.

“Is that what this is to you? Revenge?”

He laughs. “Well, not only.”

“Tell me what else.” Calliope commands. “If you want my help then tell me why.”

The Corinthian thinks faster than hesitation can register.

He switches plans at the same smooth speed, and it’s a truth he’d not wanted to lead with, bait he was saving only for a moment suited to the greater power of its sting. “I won’t go back to the Dreaming. I quite like it here, and so it’s not just about revenge. It’s about freedom.”

How like a nightmare to dream of a concept even humanity longs for.

How like a nightmare to think the guarantee of it can be found in their world. 

“If you can only be so when Morpheus is trapped,” Calliope says; sat there on this bed in a thin nightdress, chained to a mortal by the laws of her own kind, chained to a man who ‘needs’ her gifts to give him the life he thinks he deserves. “If your own freedom relies on the imprisonment of another—"

She shrugs.

“Then can you really say you’re free at all?”

[mari-lair]

Wip of A Pair Of Rings

Ship: Aoikane

Word count: 5,7K

Rated: M

Warning: Peer pressure. Expectations of an arranged marriage. Making out. Grammar errors. Unfinished scenes. Actually, i'll add 'awkwardness' to it too.

Aoi prides herself on being able to read between the lines. It only takes one conversation to see what a person hides under their smile, pinpoint if they seek riches, power, or ownership of her, but the Prince of Vapor, for as expressive as he can be, is oddly hard to read.

She can easily tell when he is displeased, be it by Aoi or by his own court, but he doesn’t seem like the controlling or quick to anger type, not with maids so eccentric. He stares far more than it would be polite to, something Aoi was used to, but the lack of worship or lust in his gaze makes her just as uncomfortable, unsure of how to protect herself when she doesn’t know what the prince wants in the first place.

She could sense his pride from a mile away, as expected of a prince, and while his lack of visible malice is good, she did not trust his friendly “Make yourself at home” act. 

…With luck he’ll keep this nice act until the wedding, then get bored of her, restraining their interactions to posing at big events and polite requests to help keep his guests entertained. Anything she does behind closed doors none of his business.

Aoi looked at the maid by her side, sensing that she was the only one not acting at the table, her behavior too sloppy for a royal servant, but useful.

“You seem stressed.” She commented when they reached her royal chambers, her gentle voice making it easy to appear like the sweet princess expected of Girasol “Is the prince too hard on you?”

“No, no. Not at all!” She straightened her back, trying hard to look professional as she opened the fancy doors. Is endearing, in a sort of pitiful way. “Your Highness Aoi is very strict, I don’t think he understands how hard it is to clean such an entire castle, but he offers plenty of rest.” Yashiro blushed, holding the door open as Aoi and Teru walked in “The maid’s room is far simpler than yours, but still very beautiful! The Aoi family has always been so kind to everyone! The kingdom flourishes under them.”

‘Nothing flourishes in this block of ice’ Aoi thought as the maid gushed about her boss, disappointed Yashiro seems to mindlessly eat up the ‘perfect royal family’ propaganda she is fed.

“It must be very different from your fairy tale kingdom,” Yashiro said, smile as innocent as her childish words “But I hope you grow to feel at home!” 

“Thank you <3” 

Yashiro smiled even brighter, turning to Teru “You too Sir. Minamoto! Is wonderful to have you here.”

“Thank you, miss Yashiro.” He smiled, full of sparkles “Would you be so kind as to unpack our clothes?”

“Of course!”

Aoi wasn’t surprised to see the maid stare in awe at Teru’s armor and blush as she folded his clothes, very careful with it.

She wasn’t surprised at the jealousy in her eyes when she found her chest of party dresses, letting her hand linger on the silky frills and gemstone details, no doubts judging her preference for cutesy and expensive clothes, wishing she was the one in possession of all these riches. 

Aoi smiled sweetly, exasperated but used to this. If the prince values his maids enough to be buddies with them, Aoi is sure any rumors they start will spread like wildfire. 

…How wonderful. 

Yashiro was still careful with her dresses, that hint of envy disappearing surprisingly quickly, focusing on Aoi with a smile that didn’t feel fake “Is there anything else you need steemed guests?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble I would love to learn more about our new home <3” Aoi put a hand on her chin, using her most bubbly and innocent persona. Teru gave her a look, noticing she was putting on a show but didn’t mention, wanting to learn more about their forced new home too.

.

It was laughably easy to make the maid feel comfortable enough to chatter. 

Yashiro gives a lot of information about nonconsequential things, from gushing about her favorite food of the castle to how pretty Aoi’s “hair loops” are, but surprisingly, there is no trash-talk, the closest to it being her complaints about Sir.Yugi sabotages her cleaning supplies and teases her when he acts so polite to the other maids.

Most of the info she gets is useless to her, the maid seems to have different tastes than her for food, and her views are too childish, even if it paint a very unprofessional and strange image of how this kingdom work. prince Akane is extremely busy, he can spend hours on his study,  and he visits the town a lot, allegedly to check if everything is okay.

Fortunately, Yashiro seem to be a genuinely good person.

Unfortunately, one of the things she learned about Yashiro is that she is a hopeless romantic.

“A royal marriage,” Yashiro sighed dreamily, staring at the gemstones on Aoi’s skirt and visibly resisting the urge to touch it. “I can only imagine how beautiful your wedding dress will be.” She clapped her hands together as if praying, her genuine excitement a bit overwhelming “Only one week until the big day! Are you excited?"

"I can’t stop thinking about it!" She smiled, omitting the dread that comes every time it crosses her mind.

Yashiro squealed, eating it "Even your names match! Is like it was meant to be!”

“It’s so funny!” Aoi’s laugh came out more fake than she would have liked, “I’ve always wanted to be Aoi Aoi <3” 

“It’s charming” Nene giggled, cheeks rosy “I hope my soulmate is near”

Yikes.

“Miss Yashiro?” Teru called with his charming smile, making her switch focus right away “Can you bring me more raspberry tea?”

Yashiro blushed, spluttering an agreement and only looking at Aoi when he was on the door “D-do you wish for anything, Your Highness?”

“I’m good.” Aoi smiled, pretty sure Teru was asking it for her. He does that every time he feels like she is stressed but doesn’t know how to help. He has never been very good at words, and he can’t use touch, it is scandalous for a personal guard to ever hug his princess, so tea from his siblings it was.

This habit used to annoy her at first. 

Teru gave her sickening sweet drinks instead of teas for a while, overhearing a lie she told her dad when he gave her a lavish birthday cake, and not knowing her well enough to notice her exclamation that it is “so sweet, my favorite!” was as fake as her smile.

She never confronted Teru about it, liking that he cares and scared he would see her as an ‘arrogant bitch’ if she rejected his gift, so it took years for him to suspect something on his own, asking her about it with such genuine confusion, she may have been too harsh when insisting it’s ‘fine’. He changed drinks after.

There was a knock on their door.

Oh my, that was quick of Yashiro.

Aoi really didn’t want to chat about her ‘wonderful wedding’ anymore, going to bed to pretend she is sleeping.

Teru got the message, following his princess's silent orders and opening the door and blinking.

“Is thai one suitable?”  Shijima’s voice made her curious.

“Yes,” Teru lit up “Thank you Miss Shijima.”

“You’re welcome~” She sing sang, “Have a good night's sleep Sir.Minamoto.”

“You as well Miss Shijima.” He closed the door, putting on the same type of fluffy hat Yugi was wearing at dinner. It looked a bit goofy.

.

Nene came back with the raspberry tea, but Aoi didn’t see her again, letting Teru lie she is resting and kicking the maid out.

Aoi only stared at her drink at first, soaking in the way it warmed her fingers, but the fragrance was nice, so he slowly sipped at it, genuinely enjoying the strange taste.

Teru locked their bedroom door and lay on the fancy mattress on the floor. 

Aoi isn’t used to sleep in the same room as someone, trusting her guard but still hyperaware of Teru’s presence, every tiny sound, no matter how rare, from Teru’s mattress making her want to hide under the covers.

Somewhere between staring at an unfamiliar ceiling for what felt like hours, and mindlessly rubbing her finger on the soft fur of her blanket, exhaustion won.

.

Aoi woke up in a warm cocoon, drowning in thick blankets. She stared at her empty nightstand, the lack of flower pots to water and gentle rays of sunlight on her face soured her mood. 

(She hopes her bedroom garden is being taken care.)

Aoi curled up in the covers, not wanting to get up and face the day, her bed far more inviting them this kingdom, but forcing herself to sit up anyways, rubbing her heavy eyes and glaring at the big frosted window.

…Six days until her wedding day.

“Good morning, Miss Akane,” Teru said, wearing the fluffy hat he was given, the white fur making his hair even more golden in comparison. 

“Good morning.” She said, taking in his calm smile “You seem in good spirits.”

“Of course.” He chirped, his attitude too upbeat. “I plan to enjoy my stay as much as I can, have something to tell home!”

Aoi stared at his closed eyed smile, only seeing him act like this when it came to covering up his exhaustion. She looked at the five letters on his desk, resisting the urge to ask "For how long have you been awake? Did you get any rest at all?" 

She knows how restless Teru can get when he’s away from his family, she has no right to ask this after dragging him here.

“There!” Something was put on her head, covering her eyes, she pushed the soft hat Teru put on her, looking up at her smiling friend with a tiny blush “You can’t be gloomy now.”

“...Minamoto.”

“It a good hat isn’t it?”  Teru smiled “This could be a new beginning.”

.

The prince was confused to see her wearing the hat she had made fun of last night, and Aoi had to try very hard to not defend herself.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” The prince thankfully didn’t comment, nodding at the two “Sir Minamoto.”

“Good morning, Your Highness” Aoi replied just as politely.

“Do you wish to eat before the tour?” He asked “I must finish something I couldn’t last night”

“Sure.”

Aoi could not tell if he was giving her space, or if he was genuinely busy, but she appreciated having a quiet breakfast. 

The bread was slightly sweet here, she would get fat if she ate too much of it, so she supposed it was good that she wasn’t very hungry, only able to get a few bites.

.

Aoi paused in front of a family portrait. 

Usually, she would spare it a polite smile, maybe a compliment, and move along, tired of the picture-perfect life everyone poses fot, but this one made her pay attention, surprised by how… imperfect… it was. The art quality is not the problem, each line is beautiful and flawless, as it should, but the family in it wasn’t even looking at her, more focused on each other than the audience gazing at them.

A young woman with short brown hair and eyes the same shade as the prince was laughing and lightly elbowing a man with the most lovesick smile Aoi has ever seen. Prince Akane was on the queen's lap, his vest matching with his mother’s vest, he couldn’t be older than five, yelling something and pointing at the painter.

“Queen Isamu and King Yasu.” Akane’s voice startled her.

Aoi looked at him, he seemed exasperated but there was a small smile on his face. It softened his features.

“They seem like lovely parents.” She spoke on automatic, as if reading the script of ‘please admire how close our family is’ they hang on the wall and coming up with her own accordingly “Do you miss them?”

Akane gave her a strange look, as if no one had asked him this before, but that can’t be right… This is one of the most generic things to ask, one of the favorite kinds of empty conversation starters back in Girasol.

“Sometimes,” He admitted “but I got used to talking through letters.”

.

“And here is the baths, the pride of Vapor.” Akane opened a big double door, hot air escaping into the hallway, revealing a colossal ground tub that she recognized from her studies as a pool. It was no private lake with waterfalls, but she was pleasantly surprised this winter land has a place to comfortably swim “You can control the water temperature as well, so if you have any demands, Yashiro will be here to help you.”

“No need to be shy, your highness,” Yashiro giggled in good nature, with an aura of romance around her. The fool was clearly in lalaland, far away from reality “Go show your wife how the pool works!”

Aoi froze.

Akane visibly tensed up.

“Ha ha, don’t be silly!” Akane closed his eyes, his smile painfully strained as he shook his hand in a ‘casual’ manner. “We aren’t married yet, I hardly think that would be proper.” He pushed Aoi to the maid, oblivious to how stiff she got at the touch, disliking the effortless way he could move her “I have duties to attend to, but I trust you can show her how it works just fine Yashiro!” He practically ran away, adding “And you can let her use the bubbles!” 

They watched him walk down the hall at a rushed pace until he disappeared.

“Well, that’s something,” Teru broke the silence, way closer than he had been before, ready to intervene if they had tried to force her to share the bath.

Yashiro blinked slowly, “Hum… I didn’t expect the prince to be so shy. I guess you will have to contend with me!” She smiled, her clueless energy simultaneously annoying and reassuring, like a puppy “Come on I’ll show you how it works!” She turned to Teru, blushing “I’ll show you too, but l-later… Baths are separated in Vapor.”

They are separated for the nobles in Sunflower as well, but Aoi didn’t comment.

“Thank you” Teru sends her a charming smile, making the maid blush.

Aoi resisted the urge to sigh, sending her friend a reprimanding look, well aware he likes to make people swoon when he is bored, delighted to be admired.

Teru just smiled innocently, faking to be oblivious.

.

After Nene explained everything from which lever to control the temperature to which button to start the bubbles, Aoi ordered her to leave, reassuring Yashiro that she was a fast learner and would no longer require her assistance.

Only after she left Aoi alone, and the door was locked, did she strip.

The warm water did wonders to improve her mood.

.

“I’m sorry about Yashiro,” Akane said at lunch. “She means no harm, but her behavior can be out of line," he stirred his coffee cup,  "She had been scowled and will be replaced if you desire.”

Yugi seemed in a bad mood, but Aoi pretended not to notice the way he sulked, glad the prince had done something about his servant's misconduct. 

So there are rules in this kingdom.

"You'll fire her?" Aoi asked.

"I was thinking of relocating her." Akane frowned. "She works hard on cleaning.” 

.

“I will be your wife soon.” Aoi commented, tired of this polite play pretend.

“Indeed.” Akane said a bit awkwardly "And I’ll be your husband"

The implications flew over his head.

Aoi hated it so much, for as observant as Akane can be, he can also be just as infuriatingly dense.

“Yes.” She said, able to play the pretend game too “Hard to believe isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Prince Akane fumbled with his cup, a tiny hint of red on his cheeks  “If I were honest,” He set his cup down, admitting easily  “It feels like you’re more of a special transfer, a respectable guest, than a wife, Your Highness Akane. A future roommate if you will.” He took note of his advisor's unimpressed look and frowned, adding an awkward “With… certain differences in the contract.”

How adorable

Aoi stabbed her steak with a bit more force than it was proper “Just Your Highness is fine <3”

“Right.” He looked at her weirdly, as if able to see through her, but only in part “...Is that okay with you, Your Highness?”

To be seen as a roommate? A guest…?

What kind of question is that? Is he testing her?

“...If I were honest as well, I must admit it confuses me.” She tilted her head, batting her eyelashes innocently “Does the Aoi family not value lineage?”

The prince seemed painfully genuine in his confusion, taking a solid moment for realization to dawn on him. His eyes widened, nearly choking on his coffee, losing any semblance of regal energy “We are not having kids now!” He squawked, slamming his cup down on the table and breaking it. The abrupt destruction startled her, making Teru’s eyes narrow “That’s not why we sought a marriage!”

“You do need to worry about it, your Highness,” Shijima said, wordlessly replacing his cracked cup and filling it with coffee again, unaffected in the face of such violence. No one in his court seems to care at all, it’s odd.

“Indeed.” Yugi sounded strange, that detached kind of pity nobles use nowhere to be seen, his eyes avoiding the prince, as if he actually cared about his feelings instead of putting on a show. “...If there is ever an accident, ideally, the heir should be old enough to assume responsibilities. The sooner the better.”

“But-”

“Your Majesty had you at 17,” Yugi said firmly.

“Rumors have it she got pregnant on her wedding day.” 

Seventeen? That’s even younger than Mom had been when she had Aoi. The princess held on tighter to her cup but did not allow her smile to so much as twitch.

Akane didn’t argue but he didn’t hide his discomfort well either, frowning at his coffee.

She stirred her own cup with a calm smile, feeling a twisted satisfaction at his misery, the first genuine glimpse of delight she had felt by his presence.

The confirmation she is smarter and more prepared for this marriage than the prince is delightful, but she could hardly say her mood improved, still in her husband’s kingdom, finger just waiting for a ring.

Just like firing a maid after learning they shame her behind her back, forcing their cruelty far away from her castle, didn’t change how unlovable she is under her pretty dresses, this petty kind of victory didn’t make her feel any less cold, well aware the prince still has the power here.

“Fuck-” Akane held on his new cup loosened, correcting himself “...Sorry. You bring a valid point, it would be strange to see you as a… roommate.”

Either he is a phenomenal actor, or he is foolishly honest.

“It would.” Aoi agreed, keeping a close eye on his every move and failing to sense anything that would hint at him lying.

Why is he acting like this? This can’t be the first time he heard about it. No matter the kingdom, this is one of the things that are hammered the hardest in every monarchy.

He frowned at his plate. Quiet. 

Aoi took a sip of her coffee, staring at him with cold eyes as he sweated. Quiet as well.

The sound of this city of metal could be heard in the distance, so faint the servant's silverware covered most of it.

“May I have seconds?” Teru asked, breaking the tension.

“Yes, feast as you please,” Akane replied, keeping his eyes on Aoi, just as expressive as always, but somehow unreadable in his honesty. “And please follow me after dinner, I think we should talk.”

In private?

Her brain immediately provided the worst alternative, sure he would want to get this uncomfortable duty out of his to-do list quickly.

Aoi felt her stomach drop with fear, but her cute smile did not shake.

“Do we need to wait until we finish?” Teru asked.

Akane blinked, giving him a vaguely judgemental look “I am afraid I wasn’t clear. It’s a private talk between me and the princess.”

“But I want to come too.”

“A shame.” His smile was a little annoyed “Just wait a few minutes it won’t be long, Shijima can show you the-”

“You told me to make myself at home” Teru pouted, which was embarrassing, double as much as usual when Aoi realized he is trying to do good on his word and never leave her alone with the prince. “I want to go.”

Akane narrowed his eyes, more baffled than offended. Straight on his question “...Are you challenging my authority?”

“Sure!” Teru smiled, pointing a fork his way  “Do you want to spar? If I lose I won’t bother you again, if I win, I’m coming too.”

Aoi paled. Teru was going into dangerous territory. 

Is no good if a princess is disrespectful, but a mere noble? That’s worse.

(but she wants her only friend by her side, she’ll wants it so badly.)

“That’s not how it works.” Yugi said with a tense smile.

Teru dropped his chirpy tone, “It is how it worked in Girasol.”

Aoi's smile felt stitched to her face, far too tense. She can tell he is far too close to crossing a line.

“ Sir Minamoto. This is a different land, you can’t solve it all with duels.” Aoi chided in a light and playful tone tone, not wanting to risk having them send him back home. “I promise to share if anything fun happens <3”

Teru gave her a worried look, but he reluctantly obeyed.

Akane stared at them, his face hard to read, but a bit troubled.

.

Akane talked about needing time, sweating as if not wanting to have a baby now may offend Aoi.

She agreed with a smile, relieved.

Akane's own relief was much more visible.

.

The balcony was too cold, she can’t believe she let him drag her here.

The prince gave her his coat as if it was a natural thing to to, not even looking away from the depressing white town.

“When it gets dark, is when my city shines the brightest”

Aoi gave him a strange look, tucking his thick coact tighter around herself. What he says doesn’t make much sense, and her fingers are already numb.

“You like your city” She said instead.

“Very much” He cracked a smile. It wasn’t soft, more of a smirk than a smile, but so filled with pride and fondness. It was hard to look away.

“Look” Akane pointed down, where a house had turned on the lights.

It was a bit brighter than the candle lights in Girasol but not impressive, clearly not enough to freeze here.

Before Aoi could complain another house turned the lights on. And another, and another. Shops lights varied from red to green to yellow and blue, towers blinking like jewels and corridors full of  giant lights.

It was beautiful.

“It’s so pretty…” She admitted, even if it wasn’t comforting, or familiar, it wasn’t a bad kind of alien. Like a gate into a dream.

Akane smiled, looking down with her with a softer smile.

They stared at the city light, at the shop with colorful ones and the ones that flickered as if dancing.

“We do have a garden.” Akane said while they walked back “A small one”

Aoi paused at his admission, surprised.

He nodded, no hint of shame in his voice “But I wanted to show the lights.” Akane admitted, proud “This city will be your home, like it or not. I don’t want to you hate it.”

Aoi eyes widened, sensing his honesty and having no idea what to do with it.

.

The altar made her feel sick, every watchful eye pressuring her to keep walking like daggers leading her to a pirate plank.

Akane only seemed to realize exactly the situation he was in after lifting her veil, staring at her in wonder, no doubt considering her beautiful, but the blush was accompanied by an unsure look.

Aoi resisted the urge to clench her fists, not needing him to get hints of how scared and uncomfortable she is now.

‘Don’t say anything. Don’t embarrass myself.’

(Say it. Ruin this wedding)

“May this union last,” The king finished “For Vapor and Sunflower prosperity!”

Akane lost his blush and his uncertain look, holding her hand and dragging her closer, making her panic. He tilted her a bit, making her turn her back to the crowd, and got close quickly.

Aoi closed her eyes in fear, surprised to feel his breath near but not actually touch.

Aoi looked at him with wide eyes.

The crowd went wild, unaware their lips didn’t connect from this position.

Akane looked at the crowd.

Ah…

Aoi felt strange, realizing just because he valued his people more than her, does not mean he sees no value in her feelings.

.

(Akane)

“I am just lamenting my name” Aoi half-joked “I’m Aoi Aoi now, is so silly <3”

Her smile was fake, he is pretty sure, it didn’t make her eyes soften like her real smiles did.

(like when she saw the city light up at night, or when she visited the garden at midnight)

He wasn’t very excited about this union either, for as beautiful as Aoi is, it feels like being thrown to a stranger he may want to know better, but still a stranger.

Akane wasn’t sure if she would like if he touched her shoulder for comfort, he noticed how she tenses up when they touch.

He decided not to risk it

.

(Aoi)

They are officially married.

Aoi looked at her shiny new ring as they headed to their bedroom. Teru tried to invite himself but was denied. Even the prince, who was way too bad at this pretend game, his discomfort plain to see, had denied him, but he did whisper something that made Teru calm down.

They looked at the fancy bedroom, it pink and white decorations barely visible on the faint candlelights and living flowers, brought from home. The sleepwear laid on the bed was too thin and transparent to truly be called anything other than a bait for undressing.

The sensual mood of the room felt suffocating, filled with expectations she doesn’t want to face.

“Is pretty big.” Akane said, staring with unease at the bed “We can make a pillow divide… or something.”

That's ridiculous, he is acting like a kid, not a ruler, but she couldn’t find it in herself to look down on him.

“Yes” She agreed, wanting to make a pillow ford and hide under the covers just as bad.

They fell into silence. Just standing there.

They didn’t do anything for a moment, but before the silence got too thick, Akane coughed,  walking past everything and searching up the room. He grabbed one of the candles and started opening drawers. Aoi just stared at him, not sure what to do.

She awkwardly approached him, wanting to see what he was looking for, maybe even help him? It would beat staring at this awful room, resisting the urge to kick one of the candles in the sheets and burn the entire place down.

Akane threw something at her, startling the princess.

 “You can have this one.”

Aoi blinked, looking at the bundle of thick and soft fabric with puffy sleeves in her hands, recognizing It as proper sleepwear. “I can’t stand this vest so I’ll get changed,” Akane said, heading to the attached bathroom with his own clothes. “You can change as soon as I’m done.”

“Right,” Aoi said, feeling lighter. “Don’t take long.”

He smiled, awkward “I won’t.”

Aoi threw the garments laid on her their bed out the window, and watched them drift away... Some lucky peasant might find it and sell its silk, as long as it was out of her sight forever, she doesn’t care.

With reluctance, she proceeded to check the bed next.

She know her maids are the ones that prepared the room, it's Girasol's tradition to do this nonsense every wedding, so she wouldn’t be surprised if she found a thorn hidden in the sheats, wanting her to be prickled.

…She checked every corner but couldn’t find any thorns on the bed.

She collected the roses and it petals from the bed, and did the pillow divide, finding some comfort in the monotonous task.

“Your turn,” Akane said, coming back from the bathroom with a simple long sleeved shirt and pants. There were still more roses to collect, but she nodded. 

.

“Good morning Your Highness!” Prince Akane chirped, smiling as if his day truly got better once he saw her.

It made her feel weird, cheeks hot and heart heavy.

.

‘This isn’t an act.’ The realization wasn’t surprising but it still shook her soul ‘Nothing is.’

Akane is proud and genuine and kind, so lovable, anyone would be lucky to have him as a husband. She felt a tiny spark of awe, having not believed such a fairy tale like ruler existed in this corrupt world, but that warmth was drowned by something bittersweet, sure anyone with half a brain could tell he was the one stuck with her.

After you see through her pretty face, she has nothing to offer. She never went above and beyond for her people, she never even tried to fight her situation.

She is cold and empty like a marble doll. She’ll only weigh him down.

.

Aoi woke up a bit grumpy, looking up and widening her eyes at the fond look on the prince’s face, realizing he was looking at her with such deep fondness.

The prince blushed hard at being caught “Good morning Your Highenss.” He awkwardly got out of the bed, a bit nervous “I’m sorry it wasn’t my intention to stare, I was surprised by how cute you look-” He winced at his own words, mistaking her wide eyes for discomfort and smiling awkward “I’ll just sleep on the study today. Sorry, I'll see you later, your highness.”

.

He did sleep in the study the next night.

Aoi clenched her fists on the sheets, conflicted.

There was relief at being alone, having a room that’s only hers again. But also guilt, aware he wasn’t sleeping in a bed because of something as stupid as sparing her a hint of embarrassment.

(and she liked the feeling of waking up to Akane smiling so gently, happy someone as lovable as the prince also found her worth something.)

But every time they crossed paths and she tried to say “You can sleep in the bed, is okay, is your room too.” she would face those big gentle eyes and freeze, unable to do it.

(she is such a coward, she should be able to talk to her husband.)

.

“You said you like roses,” Akane said shyly, giving her a pot of roses.

Aoi stared, surprised he put it on a pot instead of a bouquet.

‘Thank you?’

‘Why are you doing this? We already have matching rings, there is no need to court me.’

She ended up just smiling politely. Unable to tell him she had been lying, not that big of a rose fan after getting so many suitors shower her in them.

Usually, she throws the roses away, but for some reason, she kept the flowers in a vase.

Perhaps she misses having something to water.

(Perhaps she likes it when Akane is the one to give her roses)

.

Aoi felt hot and light-headed, overwhelmed by the way Akane kissed her neck, lips lingering as if he never wanted to let go. Every touch, every move, was firm, but gentle, his eyes so full of love she couldn’t directly look at them.

“I love you” The warm breath on her skin gave her shivers. “I’m so lucky.”

His praises made her flinch, finding it hard to agree with them, but wanting more.

More more more more.

He slipped her frilly shirt off, carefully, almost shyly, despite the way he held her lower back, keeping contact with her corset.

(This is happening.) 

Is like a dream come true, she wants this. She want him. 

(She is scared.)

‘You need an heir anyway, at least it will be with someone you love. You’re lucky’

This did not make her feel better. It only reminded her this is an obligation. That’s the one duty she was given as a token wife. She can’t say no. It would be selfish to stop.

And she likes him, she likes him so much. Is okay. His touch is nice, this is fine. Great even-

he kissed her collarbone, far too close to her chest, and she pushed him away, too weak to do anything.

“Am I going too fast?” Akane asked, tucking her fringe behind her ear, watching her with those gentle eyes that made her feel all fuzzy.

“Is okay” She leaned into his touch, unable to keep eye contact but holding on to his shirt, thorn between wanting to push him far away, out of their bed, and hug him tight. Keep him by her side without offering anything. “We need an heir.”

Akane froze, climbing her and putting one hand on each side of her head, forcing her to look at him “Nonsense, I wasn’t thinking of it.” Of course he wasn’t, he never thinks. “If you don’t want, we won’t.

“But the kingdom.” She protested like an audience to her own actions. She does not care about the kingdom, be it her homeland, or this icy land  “We need to-”

“The kingdom will mind its own business.” Akane cut her off, kissing her forehead “Nothing is worth your happiness.”

Aoi flushed bright red, as touched as she was frustrated. 

How can he make it sound so easy? You can’t go against the king, against decades of tradition, and just decide to not continue a lineage. Is dishonorable, and everyone will hate you it’s-

“It’s okay,” Akane said, laying by her side and hugging her, his body warm and solid, like a heavy blanket “I’ll convince them. If they get too stubborn we can adopt, I am sure you’ll be an amazing mother.”

“That’s not how lineage work.” Aoi said softly, hating how hot her cheeks feel. Would she really be a good mother? She doubts it.

“It will now, If we say they’re a part of the family, they will be.” Akane insisted hugging her tighter, making her too warm, but not hurting her.

Aoi couldn’t open her mouth feeling selfish for not wanting any kids.

(And even if a part of her did, she wanted it to be theirs, she wanted to see traces of herself and her husband on their child, not someone else. 

…She is so selfish, thinking of her wants even now. Truly a terrible woman.)

[andnatiabrosca]

Self-Rec Tag Game

Rules: Share five of your own fanworks (fic, art, etc.). Then, tag five more people to share the things they've made. I’ve put categories below, but they’re more guidelines than rules.  1. Something you absolutely adore 2. Something that was challenging to create 3. Something that makes you laugh (or smile, if that fits more comfortably)  4. Something that surprised you (in how it turned out, how much other people liked it, etc.) 5. Something you want other people to see

@layalu (@dungeons-and-dragon-age) tagged me & this is the blog I Do Stuff on! now that my weird bug was resolved where I couldn't access my mentions, onwards and upwards. I'm going into my files for stuff, not necessarily what's been published yet, because my tagging system...needs work. Cut for length.

1. Something you absolutely adore

Well, absolutely and without question, my current longfic is well-adored. It's [love knows life] on Ao3. Here's a snippet:

The fear rolls and boils and threatens to swamp her the deeper they venture into the Temple. And like a log, buffetted in the swells – the eyes of a friend. It’s a test, she knows, but does not hurt any more for it. “What’s shapin’?” the memory of her brother asks. His voice is too thin, and he flickers in and out of sight, not like a real ghost would. She leans into his rough smile.  “Topside as bad as you thought?”  Pretends the shadow play behind her eyes is a fear, not a memory. “Ancestors, you’re a bitch.”  He growls.  It doesn’t fit, just like the solid Trade that Leske never spoke.  “You never really cared about us.  Knew you were meant for greater things.  Up there.  The Surface.” It’s a bad memory.  It’s missing rough-big-brother Leske. “You’re the one always told me to leave,” she bites back before her mind finds her. He laughs, one solid, rough bark of her friend as he glows blue, then fades back to smooth, wavering grey. “I know it’s been playing on your mind, how you left us in the darkest muck-pit this side of the Deep Roads.  But it’s all right.  Don’t want to be all mopey.  You can let go and forgive yourself, salroka.”  He pauses for a few moments, fading between that grey and that lyrium blue. His voice quiets as blue memory finds living brown.  “I forgive you.” That she believes.  The last time she knew those eyes, they were thanking her as her blade pulled free from his stomach, breath caught in blood pooling on the stone. He’s gone – again – before Nat’s voice winds back to her.

2. Something that was challenging to create

This is a bit of a deep cut, but I did [this] back in 2017, somehow fit in around 19 credit hours of engineering coursework.

I've got more details in the original post, but this entailed (1) learning how to draw like. at all. (2) using MatLab and the wiki's list of known dwarven words (and a lot of sitting and reading them aloud) to count the frequency of each phoneme within the dwarven language, then trying to isolate graphemes from the written dwarven in game (I remember using the stone from Anvil of the Void), counting those, and trying to find some correlation to assign graphemes to phonemes, THEN writing all of the Blight Brigade's names using the new cypher.

I am looking to revisit that project in future, actually. I've got more understanding of linguistics and the courage to take a good stab at conlanging. But not the note-taking skills.

3. Something that makes you laugh/smile

I'm not putting any snippets in here because it's a rated M fic and also is super short, but I find [this kinktober fill I did] pretty funny. It's Alistair semi-intentionally stumbling across Nat and Zev finding some private time away from camp.

4. Something that surprised you

[I recorded a podfic of Seventeen] and, frankly, I'm surprised anyone even clicked on it. I'm extremely proud of how I did it and the sheer number of skills I learned from it.

5. Something you want other people to see

This is a snippet from an unpublished/unfinished fic from my series [seventeen years]. Its working title is "Twenty-Six"; it's meant to be written to hold a mirror between Natia (old form of Nat) and Maran Trevelyan. I still really like using Maran trying to live up to the folk hero juxtaposed against the reality of Natia being a child during the Blight.

Maran Trevelyn was sixteen when word arrived to the Free Marches.  The Blight – the Blight most hadn’t realized had even begun – was ended. There were stories, left and right and center; everyone claimed a different version of the truth.  The Hero of Fereldan was human.  The Hero was a mage.  The Hero was Dalish and the Hero was dead. Mar didn’t know which words were true, but she knew which ones she wanted. When Mar told herself stories, late at night, lying in a dreamless bed, the Hero was old, wise, brave.  A human warrior who knew battles and knew wars and fought with every fiber of her being to save the world, because it was her duty, not because it was right. Duty meant a lot, to the youngest daughter of a Marcher noble. In Mar’s world, the Hero was the woman she could become, if only she trained hard enough.  If only she fought herself and her desires until there was nothing left.  (Her Hero died in the end, but that really didn’t matter.  Duty first.)

[igotanidea]

The Raven's daughter: Morpheus x Matthew's daughter pt. 4

Before you get confused please read the author's note.

previously: part 1, part 2, part 3

Part 4

-You should not be here – Dream repeats looking at her with darkened eyes

- Yeah, I’ve heard that before, and yet here I am – she smirks – and believe me, I would love to get back to the living world, so can’t you just, I don’t know, make it happen?

- No.

- No? Such a change of attitude in a short time.

- I won’t send you back until we get some answers.

- Lovely. This might be the first time we agree on something. But… aren’t you suppose to know everything about your Realm? – she asks and she genuinely meant nothing wrong with that sentence. Dream however, must be thinking something entirely different, his face grim once again.

- Abel, will you excuse us? Miss Y/n and I have some business to tend to.

- Of course, my Lord –Abel bows his head and get back to the house. – It was lovely meeting you, y/n/n . Hope we’ll see each other again.

- Likewise –she smiles with the most beautiful smile, her eyes lighting up and for a spare second Morpheus just stares at her. That is until Matthew notices and caws bringing him back from his high – Now – the girl sighs – do you know why I’m here all of a sudden? Why now?

- I have my suspicions.

- Care to share?

- Not just yet - he just keep standing in front of her, awkwardness slowly creeping in.

Of course not – she thinks to herself. Well, if he’s trying some sort of intimidation I’m not giving it. Might as well spend an eternity in here, not giving him this sort of satisfaction.

For some time (might be minutes or hour) it seems like her predictions are going to be true, but then The Dream Lord turns around and starts walking, clearly expecting her to follow.

-You shall come with me to the palace.

-Is that a command? – she raises one eyebrow teasingly

-Indeed. I am the King of this place, and whatever I wish shall happen.

-Is that how you treat all of your guests? No wonder you don’t have many. Where are your manners my Lord?

Dream stops his steps, his back to her.

-Apologies.

-Really? – that was suspiciously easy

-You are my guest indeed. And a lady – y/n rolls her eyes at this title he gives her. - And therefore, I shall let you through. I will be right behind you.

That sneaky little bastard – she thinks to herself.

-Em, y/n…. – Matthew gently sits on his daughter shoulder – you.. you should know that while in the Dreaming, Lord Morpheus can hear your thoughts.

-He does? – at this point she mentally slaps herself – Well, if that’s the case I suppose you heard a lot about yourself. Both good and bad.

-What Matthew meant is that I can, but most of the time I don’t do this - Dream interupts - Unless it’s absolutely necessary. And it only work on dreamers and my creations. There’s some sort of bond between me and them.

-Right – how should she react on such confession – so, what….?

Before she could finish they arrive at the palace. Once again, y/n is taken aback by its beauty. She couldn’t see a lot of the details from the distant, but now, that she’s close everything is even more breathtaking. What she believed to be plain walls is in fact decorated with elaborate ornaments, not a single place left without it. White marble start glistening in the sun, almost blindingly but also gives god-like vibes and atmosphere. Almost like if she’s entering some sort of temple. Normally she would make a joke about delusion of grandeur but just this once bites her tongue. After all, the palace is indeed a masterpiece.

-Did he make it by himself? – she whispers to his father staying a few steps behind Dream

-Yes. Like I was telling you in the still unfinished story, after collecting the tools he rebuilt it this way.

-Em… exactly how powerful is he then?

-More powerful than you, that's for sure. I don’t think you have any reason to fear him, that is until you push the limits of his patience, which is low – Matthew emphasizes the last word – but I advise you to watch how you speak to him. If not for yourself then for me. I want some answers as badly as you do.

-Fine – she raises her hand in surrender – I’ll try but don’t hate on me if I fail. My attitude makes who I am.

-Oh, don’t worry, I’ll peck you every time you start to cross the line.

-Dad! – she whisper-screams at the bird.

-Are you both done? – Morpheus raises his hand cutting the family talk and teleports the three into the library.

-If you have the that kind of powers why did you make me walk all the way here? - y/n asks

-Are you questioning my motives? – he eyes her but turns his gaze aways clearly looking for someone else – Lucienne? - he calls

-Yes, my Lord.

-We have a visitor.

-It’s been quite some time since the last one – y/n sees a piece of clothing behind the shelves and then a tall, lean figure emerges into her sight. – Hello, little one – the woman greets – I’m Lucienne, the royal librarian.

-Hi. I’m y/n, but…

-Oh, so you are the famous y/n/n , Matthew’s been talking about to everyone who wish to listen.

-Did he? – y/n looks at her father grinning.

-I did. She’s my greatest pride and joy so why shouldn’t I brag? – the Raven raises his head acting majestically. Or trying to.

-Because it’s embarrassing for me?

-There’s nothing to be embarrassed of, dear. Although it was a bit annoying. You’re father’s a real talker.

-Always been – y/n smiles at the bird – anyway, I love this place. So many stories…- her eyes wander the shelves - Abel was right about it. I could really just stay here forever.

-You are surely not going to – Dream chimes in again, visibly angry that no one is paying attention to him – Lucienne, shall I see her log? We must immediately find out how she ended up here quite aware of the fact she’s asleep. That is unusual and gives me bad feeling.

-A log? You keep a tab on every human or is it just me?

-Don’t feel special. I oversee the subconscious of every living being. You’re not extraordinary. You're just another human.

-Thank god, I was starting to worry you were on my tail all this time.

-Can you hold your tongue? – Dream looks at her so coldly that his gaze could freeze Hell right now and at the same time Matthew pecks her hand, just like he said he would.

-Ok, fine! I’ll shut up. Just stop it, dad! Jokes aside, I really do want to know what is happening to me. Does your smart book give you any information?

-Not really. But… there’s one other place we can look.

-So? Let’s go then.

-I shall go by myself. This is somewhere you, like any other dreamer cannot enter.

-So I’m just supposed to sit here doing nothing?

-Precisely. Is that too much to ask?

- I suppose not…..

-I’ll be taking Matthew with me.

-You will? – the Raven caws clearly surprised with Dream’s sudden need for companionship – Why?

-You are my messenger and you could be of help.

-I hope we are not going to Hell again? - y/n vision sharpen. She will definitely not let her father go there. Again.

-Not this time. However it may take a while, so you must be patient Kayleen. We will get the answers you need – Morpheus gives the girl almost human and reassuring look and he disappears in the cloud of sand taking the bird with him.

-So now what? – y/n asks confused but quickly lights up realizing she’s in the library. No better place in the world. – Can I pick a book for myself, Lucienne?

- Of course, I’ll be more than happy to recommend something to you. What genre do you like? We have any book published or those that will be published in the future.

- For real? Like, I can I reads another volume of Games of thrones? It’s taking forever to write.

- If that’s what you want – Lucienne looks at her innocently, fixing her glasses, but a silent disappointment can be felt in her voice. Out of all the books in the world she chose this one....

- No, Lucienne, wait. I know people get hyped over this, but to be honest I’d prefer something less consumed by the show-business.

- What do you mean?

- I think it’s crazy that most of the times the book only get popular because of the cinematic adaptation. People tend to choose easy entertainment instead of intellectual stimulation. That’s why there are two groups – the first knows every detail about the plot and would argue over the hair color of the protagonist the other just want to see a pretty face on the screen. Not that I'm against pretty faces - she blushes.

- Isn’t that a bit exaggerated, dear? – Lucienne asks

- Might be – y/n/n shrugs but continues on her thought – but that’s just a figure of speech. I’m trying to make an objective observation. Not to offend everyone.

- I already like you, y/n/n – Lucienne leans over the table and gently touch the girl's hand – Really glad I get to meet you.

- Thank you. But that’s still the problem, isn’t it? I’m not supposed to be here – she quote a sentence that was already said to her twice - and we don’t know how that happened.

- Don’t worry about it, now. Lord Morpheus and Matthew will figure this out, I assure you. We’ve been through many storms and are still standing.

- You know, Lucienne, my father started telling me some stories about after-imprisonment but never finished. I don’t really want any spoilers, but was Dream always like…- she hesitates - this?

- Like what exactly?

- So… I don’t know…dark? Quite unlikely for a dream.

-Don’t forget Lord Morpheus is also a nightmare. And he has changed after his time in captivity. He became more … humane, but don’t ever use that against him.  He has learned a lot, for sure.

- I believe it must have been hard – y/n/n looks down – a century all alone – she never mentions that but she knows the feeling of being lonely. – Good thing he have you and my father to keep him up – she smiles and suddenly some sort of tingling in her head makes her dizzy. – What…?

- I think you’re waking y/n. This is goodbye… for now – she adds quickly – I got a feeling we will see each other soon.

***

- Professor! – y/n felt someone’s hand on her arm gently shaking her back to reality. – Wake up, the class is about to start -  as she opens her eyes she notices one of her students watching her with eyes wide open. Luckily, the auditorium was still empty so no one saw the lecturer napping on the desk. – Are you ok, professor?

- Yes. Yes, I’m alright. Thank you, Gina. Now please, take a sit. Like you said, the class is about to start and we need ourselves completely focused, don’t we? – she smiles  and as the students start showing up she begins her lesson. I’m gonna have to wait for the answers till Dream gets back. Wonder if dad can make it to our evening meeting. – she thinks to herself.

part 5 coming soon :)

edit: part 5 is here

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[valenhell]

From the studio that brought you “I can’t find good Byler fics in the ao3 tag”, comes:

"The Definitive Byler fic rec list"

Literally no one asked for this but because I spent the majority of last year (...and 2019, and 2018...) reading byler fics and coping with life, I thought I’d make a list of some of my absolute favorites. 

The other day I was basically starving for some byler fics and the angel @magicalfairy provided me with some of her faves so I thought I’d do the same, because I love reading, and I love all of these fics and I appreciate their writers💗 And fic writers in general, come on!

- This is a mix of long works and one-shots/short stories. - Everything is mostly fluff with a tad of angst and a lot of internalized homophobia conflict.  - Every fic is completed, except for the ones I mention that they are not. - I try my best to lay out the stories in a way that I won’t spoil you the plot but also warning you of some stuff you might don’t like. Either way, all of these fics are correctly tagged by their respective authors/owners, so read at your own risk. For better understanding, in between brackets I denote Rating, Words and quantity of Chapters. - I feel like I should clarify, none of these are narrated in the singular first person. None of that “And I told him...”, no. 

Long fics

a dream always the same (T, 99k, 35 chapters) What happened in those few weeks between the Battle of Starcourt and the Byers leaving Hawkins. Literally a satisfying and very needed fill in of season three, with a good dose of Mike’s thoughts and conflict. Mike’s characterization is specially amazing in this one. The writing style is amazing and I know the author put everything into making it historically accurate, and it was really sweet. You probably read it, it’s by the amazing sevensided here on Tumblr🧡

Spring Break (T, 120k, 14/15 chapters) The slowburn of my dreams. Lots of internalized conflict and conflict with each other. Conflict within the Party (uhh kind of), conflict with Mike and Will. Byers family has moved and the kids are visiting! Chaos. Characterization is on point. Yeah, I know it’s unfinished, but the fourteenth chapter actually serves as a pretty nice ending. 

This is where it starts (M, 148.8k, 24 chapters) Aged up characters. The Party is in college and Will disappears again, but now it’s different. Mike knows he didn’t vanish from thin air, and the discovery he and the Party end up making is pretty insane. Mystery solving/fantasy/third dimension, throw in a bit of D&D and Mike realizing some shit, and you get this marvelous fic. It’s a breath of fresh air. The world building is definitely one of the elements that stands out the most, because it’s very nicely described, it sounds like a dream and it’s completely immersive. Absolute gem of a fic. 

there’s a Starman waiting in the sky (M, 30.6k, 8 chapters) Do I need to say anything? Will is out there living his best life and Mike realizes that wow, umm, maybe his best friend looks a bit too nice with that costume... and wait, is he getting horny? It’s actually really fun and sexy.

The Evening Speaks (T, 23k, 7 chapters) In where Mike is a late-night college radio host and Will is the art student that stays up till late to catch up with Wheeler on the Mic. They flirt through songs y’all, this one is really sweet. 

heads or tails? (E, 24k, 3 chapters) Aged up characters. I know most people don’t enjoy sex in fics and with specific characters but this one is insanely well written. It’s a slowburn that commits to the tension and with every word you are grasping and anticipating their next move. I think you can find the author here on Tumblr as yousaidyes🧡

The Man of Average (M, 56.7k, 5/? chapters) Aged up characters. No but you don’t understand, the writing here is absolute gourmet. The story is exciting as well, it’s super interesting. Weirdly enough, for being very aged up characters, they are well characterized but they don’t feel like teenagers. They are naturally Mike and Will. The author really captured Mike and Will’s essence. I know, it’s unfinished and it’s updated very rarely, but this is the typical fic you can’t believe someone just posted on the internet for free. I will say though, I think it’s definitely not for everyone. Read at your own risk.

Heartstrings (E, 82.8k, 24/? chapters) Aged up characters. By the same author of The Man of Average. A collection of memories, the road to Mike and Will’s happy ever after. And fucking hell!!!!! You’ll cry and get angry, you’ll cheer for them, then you’ll want to crash their faces together because god dammit you love each other!!! But yeah, same thing here. The writing and the way the story is laid out as a nonlinear narrative is brilliant. And I also think this is one of the best Will versions I’ve read. The author might as well be the og creator of this two characters tbh. You can find the author here as mylesimeblr🧡

Sinners behind the walls (T, 1.5k, 1/1) And because I can’t stop recommending this author, a little thing of Mike tormenting himself but also being too deeply committed to Will. 

The Red Envelope series (T/E, 167K, two completed works) Something happens that Will thought was impossible and from there, pure drama and romance. Anything by this author has the potential to become your absolute favorite fic, but this series in particular is amazing. I doubt that any of you haven’t read this, but it doesn’t hurt to put it in this list. I’m pretty sure the author is serendipitous-magic on Tumblr🧡

A New Fight series (T, 91k, two completed works, one WIP) And finally the Star Wars AU that we all needed. But this isn’t your typical “Mike is Han”, “Will is Leia” and “El is Luke”, it’s way more interesting than that, and the author has appropriated the Star Wars world like no other. I’ll admit I’m not a 100% fluent in SW lore but this is amazing to me either way. This author is also on Tumblr, tea-for-one-please🧡

- Yes, most of these are (if not all), in a way, canon compliant/canonverse/canon continuation into fanon. (In a way)

One-shots and short stories

Sundae for Two, Please (G, 4.8k) Steve being the supportive friend and older brother these kids collectively need. (not Jonathan erasure, we love him). Steve is very sweet himself, and this little cute thing through his POV is gorgeous. Yes, it’s byler.

Backstage (T, 10k, 2/2) Jonathan, you forgot to mention to Will how hot your new band’s guitarist is, dude. Now he’s hyperventilating and weirdly flirting with him in the corner. Background Stonathan because why not.

102 Peach Street (G, 3.8k) Established relationship, but not only that, they are married :’’))) PURE fluff. Extreme fluffiness. Diabetes. 

sweatshirts and bottled up feelings (T, 3.2k) Or, Mike thinks that the sweatshirt Will wears looks insanely good on him. And kitchens are for lovers. 

kiss it better (T, 16.3k) Basically one of the best character studies of a few precise moments of Mike and Will’s relationship and feelings. 

will wonders ever cease (T, 11.3k) #i ship will and happiness. Omfg what a beautiful piece of fanfic. Will centric, this kid really deserves all the good in the world.

The Calm After the Storm (T, 1.6k) Tooth rotting fluff, boyfriends in love. Boyfriends being lazy, cuddling, love words, kisses. Boys loving each other’s company... Basically, Mike and Will in their element. What more can you ask for?

neither of us ready to let go (T, 4.8k) That scene from season three, but a bit of a fix it. 

Still in love (G, 1k) Domestic, married life au fluff. Y’all, I’m a sucker for established Byler, even if I can’t find many fics with it. But this is very sweet. It takes place in 2020, but I don’t think there are any mentions of the COVID-19 crisis that I remember.

I Nver Find Out ‘Til I’m Head Over Heels (G, 12.5K) Classic 5+1 fic. If you haven’t read it, where have you been? This is your moment. In where Mike keeps inviting Will to the school dances and Will thinks it’s just a joke until he realizes it’s not. 

Before You’re Gone (T, 5.9k) Will is leaving Hawkins and Mike thinks this is a great moment for a confession. This one I discovered last friday, thank you friend @magicalfairy 💗

You’re weird Wheeler (M, 4.5k) Mike unintentionally starts a tradition of going to each other to talk about their sexual encounters just after they finish. Will keeps getting more explicit with the details he shares, and he makes his best friend interested. This one is really fun y’all.

Out-Of-Town Friends (N/R, 4.6K) It’s not rated. I haven’t re- read it but I’d say it would probably fall in a T rating. So cute!! Will has new friends and sneaks off every friday and the Party doesn’t know where he is going, so Mike decides to follow him and is surprised. 

Snowed Under (G, 1.3k) By the same author of The New Fight series. Mike is spending christmas by himself in college because a snowstorm hits Chicago and Nancy can’t drive to see him, but then he has a surprise visitor. Ahhh just a lil sweet holiday fic. Super cute. 

you love me anyway series (T, 7.1k, three completed works) Literally just the cutest thing ever. Established Byler. Will loves to take pictures and he loves taking pictures of Mike. It’s adorable. 

you wanna be friends forever (i can think of something better) (T, 9k) This one is so amazing. So. Amazing. From Will’s POV, my kid deserves the world and he gets it. 

okay not to be okay (T, 4.9k) Mike is a bit sad but then everything is okay. 

can’t hold out forever (G, 18.4k) Y’all!!!!! 5+1 sweetness. Mike has been falling in love since kindergarten. And it’s long af, you’ll enjoy it. 

even if it takes forever (G, 1.3k) College short AU, they miss each other, they love each other, they promise all to each other. It is sappy y’all.

clear as day (N/R, 18.4K, 4 chapters) It’s not rated, but I’d say it falls in the T category. Strangers to friends to lovers. And also, everyone is pretty gay; we have our dynamic trio Mike, Max and El as disaster lesbians (and gay). Will works at the library and he is also gay. Lucas and Dustin and Will are the best friends we needed. It’s very sweet and the Party is kind of formed here!

I went overboard with the one-shots, so you must have realized how much I love long one-shots and I favor them over long works lmao but they are all amazing!!! If it’s on this list, I probably read it at 2 am, sobbing in my bed. So. Hope you enjoy it☺️🧡

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot. 

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion. 

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.” 

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.” 

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” 

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” 

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” 

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom. 

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters. 

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that. 

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side. 

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” 

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” 

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” 

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” 

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

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[honeypirate]

Flower in the Sun

AU where Beni has a mom (I don’t know if he doesn’t I just know about his adoptive father/master)

Benimaru x Fem!Reader

Not edited don’t hate me for the many mistakes

5.5k words

You tried to focus on the celebration, tried to let go of all the stress you felt right now, but it was difficult considering you JUST moved here less than a year ago, opened your shop in town and lived above it, and now your whole apartment/shop was obliterated. back to basically square one for who knows how long.

You sat by the edge of the celebration, chewing on your lip as you thought about your options. You’d have to move your shop back to the barn on the gardens you have outside of town but you didn’t get as much business that way.. plus you can’t really sleep there. You could move back in with your mother but she lived near company 3 and baked them a cake every sunday, your sisters family lived in the Shinjuku District but they were holy sol nuts and you really didn’t want to have to ask them of all people. So the barn was the only real option right now, no bed but at least it has a roof and a door with a lock. A voice cuts through your thoughts and you pay attention when you realize it belongs to Benimaru

‘If I wrecked your house last night feel free to stay at the guardhouse until it’s fixed. It won't take too long.” you felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you watched those without homes gather around him for details, you pick yourself up and walk over to the group so you could hear what to do.

At the guard house you are directed to a small room at the back since you were just one person and not a family. You didn't mind that it was a small space or that you were farther away from anyone else, you were just grateful you could stay in Asakusa and keep your business running. You are told that you can help yourself to breakfast in the morning and dinner will be served for everyone at night and you were given a few essential toiletries.

When you are certain that everyone else staying there had used the showers, you gave it some extra time so that the hot water will replenish before you made your way silently down the quiet halls of the guard house.

You walk past a door that was open, you glance as you walk by and see Benimaru help bandage Konro, the sight brought a small smile to your lips as you continued your course to the showers.

Their conversation after you passed went something like this

“Waka”

“I saw her”

“She's beautiful. You should..”

“No”

Konro sighs “if you don't, maybe I wilL”

“You’re such a pain in the ass”

Your shower was amazing, they really spared no expense on the quality of shampoo and conditioner. You were so glad to not smell like smoke anymore as you changed into a new set of clothes, they were too big and just a fire force soldier shirt and jumper, but you didn't care. They were clean and comfortable. You folded your dirty clothes into a small stack and carried it back to your room, making a mental note to run to the clothing store in the next few days.

The next morning you are up at dawn, walking through the still quiet hallways towards the kitchen. You get warm in the baggy jumpsuit so you undo it halfway and tie the arms around your waist before you open the doorway. Inside there is a long table with different foods set out and at the end is Benimaru and Konro. You bow to them “thank you for letting me stay” you say, your voice as quiet as the morning. “I’m sorry for destroying your home.” Benimaru says and you rise, a smile on your lips as you make your way farther into the room before kneeling down in front of the table across from Konro.

“You’re Y/N L/N who owns the herb and flower shop” Konro says, recognizing you now that you were up close. You nod and reach out, grabbing some bread “yes I am, although my shop will now be run from the gardens just outside of town until it is rebuilt. My herb garden was on top of my apartment building so some special herbs will be out of stock for a while” you laugh and rip a piece of bread and put it in your mouth. “There is a garden behind the guardhouse that is hardly used, feel free to plant whatever you like” Benimaru says and you blush before bowing your head “thank you very much Captain Shinmon.” He frowns and Konro chuckles under his breath “just call me Benimaru” he says and you nod “of course. Benimaru” you notice the sunrise outside and stand again “thank you again, for breakfast as well” you say with a bow before leaving the room, your unfinished bread in your hand to finish on your way to the gardens. you had to set up your new shop in the barn on the flower farm you made sure to leave as early as you could since that would take a while, good thing you had one employee to help you, your close friend Jo.

One eye like a bullseye and one like an X. you couldn’t look away from him even if you wanted to. Here he was, in your shop, pursuing the already made bouquets you had made that morning and the potted plants Jo had taken care of. You watched him talk to Jo for a second from your spot at the back counter, before resuming his shopping.

You could hear Jo next to you saying your name but it didn’t register that she was talking to you until she walked in front of your vision “huh?” you ask and she glares “huh?! I have been practically shouting at you for the past five minutes. Could you take your eyes off of the Captain for a second please?” your cheeks turn red as you look down sheepishly “sorry Jo” you whisper and she laughs at you then says “he’s actually looking for you, oh flower master” you gasp and look up into her eyes “WHAT?” you practically shout and then crouch down behind the counter when you see his head turn. Your coworker leans over the side and says “and he’s coming this way now. good job dummy” before she leaves “fuuuck” you whisper and panic, how are you going to okay this off? “didn’t know you hated me this much y/n. Is it because I destroyed your home?”

You dip your head back to look up at his face which is now looking over at you as he leans over the counter. His facial expression was uninterested but he had curious eyes. His voice was monotone, like he had way more things to be doing than this mediocre errand. You pop to your feet, your face feeling like 100 degrees. “No!! I mean yes! I mean!Ugh” you sigh and close your eyes, stealing a moment before opening your eyes, a customer service smile and voice when you say “no, I dont hate you. Sorry i'm just a little flustered. How may i help you today?”

“I need some flowers and when you mentioned your garden at breakfast I thought I would come down. I need whatever says “i’m sorry for not coming to dinner for 5 months i still love you mom” you bite back a giggle as you think of his mom, a regular at your shop who would come just to talk “say no more, come with me and we will build you a perfect bouquet” he nods and you grab a flower basket and a knife, leading him out the side door into the garden.

“So these ones are blue hyacinths, they represent peace and truth” he hums before shaking his head “no” he says and you chuckle, leading him down a few rows before stopping again “these are called star of bethlehem, they mean reconciliation” he leans in close “i like these ones” he says and you smile “perfect” you say and reach out cutting a few and adding them to your basket before walking down a few more rows.

You spend half an hour looking around at the flowers and chatting easily. “So why haven't you been to dinner with your sweet mother? She comes in every once in a while and only has nothing but kind things to say about you” you ask while you finish the arrangement of star of bethlehem, yellow roses, white ivy flowers, spider mums, and lily of the valley. You spruced it up with some ivy greenery and the last of the rosemary and chamomile flowers in the shop, the seeds you’re going to plant back at the guard house were already in your bag in the back.

The bouquet you made was beautiful and you felt proud as you tied around a few ribbons “Just busy is all” he says and you hand the bouquet over “well, tell her y/n from the flower shop says hi” he nods “i will. thank you y/n” he says, his fingers brushing yours as he takes the flowers. “Will i see you at dinner?” he asks and you smile “wouldn't miss it” he nods “good Konro will stop asking me now” you chuckle, does that mean Konro likes you? You push the thought aside “have a good rest of your day, Benimaru” you say and he gives you a small smile “you as well” you notice the flush of pink on his neck as he exits the shop.

“Ohhh these are lovely! Are they from y/n’s garden??” Beni nods “she say’s hi by the way” his mom smiles and brings the flowers into the kitchen to grab a vase “that girl is so sweet, she always remembers FooFoo and if i bring her with she gives her treats.” Benimaru feels his heart warm as he crouches down to scratch the tiny head of the senior dog laying on the floor. “She moved her shop to her garden until it’s rebuilt” he says, remembering the way he felt her eyes on him in the store, the way her hair shown in the sunlight as she brought him around her garden, telling him about the means behind every flower he asked about, the way the conversation was easy. He found himself wanting to talk to her again, trying to find any reason to go back to your garden. “Benimaru!” his mom shouts and he looks up to her “sorry ma” he says and she just shakes her head with a smile “shes quite beautiful isnt she?” his mom says as she places the flowers in the vase “yeah” Beni says “she is”

When you get back to the guard house after work it’s already dark and quiet, you had a lot of work to do once you closed and it unfortunately made you miss dinner. You roll your shoulders as you take off your shoes by the back gate, picking them up as you walk into the back garden. You hum softly to yourself as you find a watering can and hose, filling it up halfway and bringing it with you over to the garden boxes filled with dry dirt. You chuckle at the sight “poor unfortunate neglected dirt, not for long tho” you whisper as you wet the soil, sure you could plant more things at your garden around your flowers but if you did both you'd have more supply when they were grown. Plus it was the perfect time to plant. You kneel by the garden box and mix up the soil so it was all wet and combined before planting the seeds. Unaware of the man on the back porch watching you as you went, a smile on his lips.

You snap your fingers and the hanging lanterns above you light, making your face glow as you look up and make eye contact with Benimaru, a smile on your lips when you notice his shocked expression. He recovers quick with a smile you can tell he’s trying to hide “you missed dinner” he states and you chuckle “I’m sorry to make you miss me” you say with a chuckle “Would you like to help me?” your voice was quiet but he heard it like it was right by his ear.

He stands from his spot and walks over to you, his feet making soft sounds when they hit the dirt. He kneels down next to you and you take his hands in yours, making him cup them, the dirt on your hands rubbing off on him. “Take some of these” you dump some seeds into his hands “and plant them in a row, a couple finger widths apart and a knuckle deep” he nods as he follows your orders, you start on another row and hum softly as you go.

“You’re a pyrokinetic” he says and you chuckle “kind of. I mean. I never had any training so I can’t fight or anything with it. Nothing compared to your talents. But technically yes” “You’ve watched me so often you know of my talents?” he asks and you watch as his fingers push seeds into a neat row. You chuckle “yes, im not ashamed to say it. You’re captivating and insanely talented.” His cheeks flush and he clears his throat “is..is this right?” He asks and pulls his dirt covered empty hands away “that’s perfect Beni” he holds his hand out for more seeds and you smile as you pour some more into his palm.

“These are chamomiles, one of my favorites although common” you say “why do you like it?” he asks and you feel your stomach birth a butterfly or two “when i was younger, my grandma owned the flower garden. She would plant beautiful flowers and let me pick whichever ones I wanted. Then at the end of the day she would let me go pick as many chamomile flowers as i wanted so she could make tea. As we drank tea should tell me stories, I love chamomile because it reminds me of quality time and the stories that can be shared over a good cup of tea”

You finish your story as you both finish planting. You wipe your hands off on your pants as you stand up with him “thank you for your help” you say with a smile that he returns “thank you for the story” you nod “anytime Benimaru” he picks up your shoes and hands them to you before he puts the watering can back and disappears inside the guard house.

You snap your fingers as you walk inside, the lanterns going out before you close the door.

You don’t see Benimaru for the next few days, he wasn’t there for breakfast or dinner, you guess he has fire force duties that keeps him busy but you can't help but wonder how he is.

You get home from work late again, a wedding coming up that has been keeping you busy. You shower and then make your way through the guardhouse to the kitchen, it’s quieter than usual, a few families homes are already built and yours should be soon as well. You walk into the kitchen and smile when you see Beni already there “hi” you whisper as you shuffle to the cupboard to grab a mug and some tea “hi y/n” he says when you stand next to him at the stove, the tea kettle already heating up “can’t sleep?” you ask and he nods. You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how bloodshot they look. You hum in response and frown at the response your heart had when you saw him. Like you wished you could take care of him and rub his back while he lays in bed. “Are you just getting back?” he asks and you nod and cover your mouth as you yawn “yeah. Mrs. Kim’s daughter is getting married sunday and I’ve been making all the arrangements. White peonies, lavender, and ivy, it’s gorgeous” he notices the bandages on your fingers and dark circles under your eyes that almost match his. He wants nothing more to hold you while you both fall asleep. He’s so sleep deprived and he can see you are as well, but his thoughts are cut off by the whistle of the pot. “Do you wanna sit?” he asks and you nod with a smile.

You sit and talk at the little table in the kitchen, the only light coming from the one hanging above the table. It felt like you were in your own world as you talked and shared stories, laughing at the many things he told you about growing up and meeting Konro.

You told him more stories about your grandma, about your childhood. You bonded over mutual feelings for religion and politics, over what you want for the future. Before long you’ve finished a cup of chamomile tea and your second cup has gone cold, at some point he grabbed your hands and was now playing with your fingertips as he told you the story of how he became captain, sharing his fears with you in the safe space of the quiet kitchen. “I think I will always believe that Konro could have been better at this than me” he whispers and you lean forward, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead before cupping his cheek “for what it’s worth, I think you are perfect” you hear his breath catch as his eyes look up into yours “perfect for this company, for this town. I talk to many of the people who live here and I have only ever heard praise and kindness for you. Your people love you. I know you don't like sweets that much but I’ve seen you accept them AND eat them and that says so much about you. People always give you so many gifts because it’s the only way we know how to give back, to you and the company for protecting the people and always being there.” Your hand slips as you go to move it from his cheek but he moves his hand up, covering yours and holding it in place.

“You may not feel worthy of this mantle, Waka” you smirk and give him a sweet look, knowing about his nickname and using it in this context makes his heart race as a small chuckle escapes his throat. “And no matter what i say, you can live with what makes you comfortable. But know that you are ultimately not living the truth.” He ponders your words for a moment and brings his hand down, taking yours with it. “The truth being that you DO deserve this position. You ARE worthy. You ARE the best and most qualified for this” his fingers laced together with yours “and you have the support of your team and basically the whole city...” your cheeks blush and you look down at your hands together against the table “and you have mine as well” you whisper

Benimaru was gone the next few days, Konro as well. Leaving you in the guard house as more and more families left, able to go back to their newly built homes until only a few of you remained.

Your bare feet plop along the wooden floor, echoing in the empty quiet hallway as you make your way to the back. Your long duster cardigan hitting the back of your ankles and making your shorts and tank top seem even more cozier. The sound of birds makes you smile as you take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, walking to the little garden with a watering can in your hand.

“Good morning” he said softly, his voice strained and tired. You smile and your head snaps up to look at him, your smile falling as you take him in.

You set down the watering can and stand, making your way to him in an instant. “Are you okay?” You ask, your hands reach for him but stop a short distance away. His face had a bandage on his cheek and forehead, his left hand wrapped, and a bruise forming around his left eye. “Just a couple scratches is all” he says, taking one of your hands with his right hand and slowly leads you back to the plants. “They’re growing nicely” he says as he looks down at the sprouts, already a little tall and poking out of the dirt in just a week.

He drops your hand to pick up the watering can, raining down the cool liquid over your plants, the dry lightened dirt turning dark brown. “You’re going to work?” He asks and you shrug “I don’t have anything special to do today, and if I’m being honest” you blush and take the can from his hand, walking to put it away so you didn’t have to look at him “I wanted to go in today so I didn’t think about how much I wanted to talk to you”

His breath catches and his wounds don’t even throb anymore, he wasn’t paying attention. All that matters is the soft way your voice reached his ears, saying something he didn’t even realize he was hoping for. You’ve been missing him, just as much as he seemed to miss you. “Will you get some breakfast with me?” He asks, his voice normal, hiding every anxiety and feeling deep in his heart, but as you turned and met his eye you could see the hope he's feeling in them.

“I was thinking” you say after Konro excuses himself from breakfast, leaving you and Beni alone. “Could you.. I mean. Do you know of anyone who could train me with my abilities? If it’s possible I could get stronger then I want to” your hands are in closed fists against your thighs and you me eyes shone with the determination you feel. He chuckles softly, popping a piece of fruit in his mouth and thinking as he chews. “I think I could figure something out. Tomorrow night work for you?” You beam at him, grinning from ear to ear with excitement “that works perfect!” You place your hand on his arm that rests against the table “Thank you Benimaru” you say softly and he nods, trying desperately to suppress the blush he feels is imminent.

The next evening you went out to check your ganden before you were supposed to train, you hoped that he had found someone nice to help you. “Are you ready?” He asks behind you and you smile while you stand from your place by the small growing herbs “as I’ll ever be! Who will you have train me?” You ask and meet his eyes, raising yours brows in question, noticing his face was without his bandages today and his wounds really did look like scratches. “I will” he states and you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You take a couple steps towards him “no!” You exclaim louder than intended and you laugh once awkwardly as his eyebrows raise “I mean. You’re hurt! and my power is so low it’s not worth your time. I’ve seen the boys you train! their power and skill is levels higher than me” he walks over to you, setting his right hand on your shoulder and leaning down to your ear “I want to” he whispers and your cheeks dust pink as a small gasp leaves your throat, oh how he desperately loved that sound. He pulls back with a smirk “and I’ve said” he raises his left hand that still had a small bandage around his palm “it’s just a scratch” he begins to walk away from you, over to the training space and you’re stunned for a few moments. Standing there and watching his back as he walked away, your heartbeat racing and your brain empty save it for the way Benimaru’s breath tickled your ear.

“Well?” He asks when he realizes you’re not following him, turning back and looking at you with daring eyes, snapping you back into reality. Your smile spreads and the sight sends him over the moon, a feeling invading his heart that he’s become enamored with these past few days having you at the guardhouse. You were the sun slowly rising in his life, and he was drawn to your warmth. “Let’s do this” you say as you reach his side, the back of your hand brushing his for only a moment but it sends fireworks up his arm.

“Show me what you can do, outside of lanterns” he says as he stands to the side, his eyes taking in your form as you stand facing him. You hold up your hands and nod once, the tip of each finger igniting in small flames. “I can’t make them bigger but I can do..” you tighten each flame to smaller tips, growing in power and heat until they blazed like the head of welding guns. He nods once “she’s more powerful than she realizes” he thinks as he watches the flames reflecting your eyes.

“That’s good” he says as he approaches you “is this all you know how to do?” He asks as he takes a hold of your wrists gently, turning your hands and looking at your flames. “I couldn’t really practice a lot growing up so this is it unfortunately” he chuckles once, mostly just air from his nose, but it made you smile anyway. “Can you control which fingers or..” before he finishes you start randomly lighting and unlighting fingertips. “Now try to shoot the flames out” he says and you nod, trying to push the flames out but just ending up breaking a sweat and flashing your flames, not going anywhere else.

After fifteen minutes of absolutely nothing happening you sigh and flung your hands up in the air “I can not be this WEAK” you exclaim and shake them as you scowl. He sighs and comes over to you, reaching up and smoothing out your eyebrows gently before holding his hands out to you.

You hesitate, your hands almost being set in his before you pause and he raises his eyebrows “chicken” he whispers and you drop your hands against his “tch” he clicks his tongue and you roll your eyes as he uses his thumbs and first two fingers to rub your wrist gently “it’s your first test. Relax” he says, his fingers moving to the middle of your hand “there are many other things we’ll try, none of which make you weak if you can’t do them” goosebumps running down your spine as he moves down each finger, your breath catching in your throat with how gentle he was being with you and how nice it felt for him to be doing this to your hands, another sound that he found he adored. He brings your hands up and kisses each knuckle softly, effectively short wiring your brain yet again. “Try again” he whispers, letting your hands go and standing back again.

You took a deep shaky breath and closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin and the warmth he has ignited in your heart, before opening your eyes and shoving your hands out, each finger popping as flames, strong, bright blue flames, shoot from each finger.

“BENIMARU!” You shout and laugh, dropping the flames and turning to run and throw your arms around his neck “oof” he mumbles as you hit him, his arms wrapping around you to keep you both stable. “I did it! I did it! I did it!” He sighs softly into your hair, “I saw” he whispered “wanna find out what else you can do?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head. You squeeze him closer for a moment before pulling back “does this mean I should call you my Senpai? Or my Captain?” He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the blush that rose to his cheeks “No.” he says, but you laugh when he won’t meet your eye.

“You’ve come a long way for just a few hours” he says as you walk back to the garden, the sun beginning to set “you’re a really amazing teacher” you lean in close “Captain” you whisper before making a turn for the hose. He stops in his tracks after you whispered, his heart fluttering in his chest as he forces himself to calm down before turning and walking over to you

You look up to him from where you were crouched, running hose in one hand after you washed your face and the back of your neck. “You look a little flushed” you say as he crouches by you, reaching out for the hose. He just Humphs as you move the water closer to him, a smirk in your lips and mischief in his eyes that he would have known right away had he looked up at you.

Your thumb covers the end just so as he leans down, raising the pressure as it hits his hands spraying his face as well. You chuckle before placing your fingers against your lips, holding in as much of your giggles as you could. He slowly looks up into your eyes, water droplets falling from his hair and nose, he was annoyed for half of a second until he meets your eyes, notices the sweet mischief in your eyes and hears your soft giggles as they leave your lips. “Did you just..” you nod and slowly stand to back away from him, the mischief rising to his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He stands and takes one step towards you and you raise your emotu hand, “WAIT” you say and he stops “we.. we can talk about this..” you say with a smile, giggles escaping with every exhale. “I think we’re too far past talking about this” he says before he moves, quick with his hand out towards the hose but you scream and try to run, spraying him behind you as he gets closer. He laughs as he grabs you, his arms wrapping around your middle from behind not caring about the cool hose water that was currently soaking him. He reaches up and takes the hose from your hand and turns you around before smiling and slowly running the water across the back of your head then across both of your shoulders making you gasp and tense in his hold. “I think we’re even now” you say with a shiver and a laugh and he cocks his head “not yet” he says softly, his hands reaching up to tuck your damp hair behind your ears.

You gasp, his cold fingers cooling off your warm cheeks as he cups your face. The hose forgotten about, dropped on the grass by your feet, soaking the earth and making your toes muddy. But nothing else matters besides the way he’s looking at you and the way the sun is turning the sky red behind him.

Your hands grip the sides of his soaked shirt as you lean into him “and how, tell me, can we make it even?” You ask, following his hands with your face as he pulls you closer, his body curving forward as you lean forward on your tip toes, brushing your nose against his making his breath hitch “can I show you?” He whispers and you nod, your eyes fluttering closed as he closes the last inch between your lips.

Kissing him felt like the first breath of fresh air after an infernal has been put to rest. Felt like the first relaxing step into a hot spring. It sends goosebumps from your head to his toes before being followed by electricity making your skin tingle. Fireworks dance across the backs of your eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tight against him. You sigh as your heart sways within your chest, comforting and warm as he holds you like his lifeline.

His thumb brushes softly against your cheek when he pulls away. Your hands smooth out his shirt before running your hands up his wet chest, his hands moving down to both rest against your waist. You can’t think of anything to say, just savoring the moment as you look into his eyes.

“Are you guys coming to dinner?” The twins say from the porch, effectively startling the hell out of you. You gasp and clutch your heart as Beni just smiles down at you, his back to them. “Thanks. We’ll be there in a minute” he says and they skip off. “We should get going. We’re gonna get sick” you say and reach up, running a hand through your damp hair. He reaches down and turns off the hose as you gather it, putting it away correctly and he reaches out, hooking his fingers with yours. “Mom will kill me if you get sick” he says softly and you laugh “maybe you could.. help me clean up. Make sure I don’t get sick” he coughs a few times, choking on his spit in shock and you laugh “Beni” you say softly and pause in the doorway, looking up at him. “I’m playing. I really like you. I’d like to take it as slow or fast as we both are comfortable with, okay?” You reach up and ruffle his damp hair, pushing it out of his eyes. His cheeks flush and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours as your eyes close. “I adore you” he whispers and your heart flutters. “Let’s go get cleaned up” he whispers and squeezes your hand, guiding you along with him to the showers.

[where-theres-smoak-2]

10 Little Things I Missed in JATP The First Time Around.

So after binge watching Julie and the Phantoms in one day naturally the first thing I did was go back and watch it all over again and on the rewatches I noticed some things that I didn’t the first time around. Now I’m a few months late to the party so most of these are probably things that most people have already spotted but I figured I’d share them with you anyway just because I love how much detail they put into this show and I need to fangirl about it lol. Obviously there are spoilers. 

1) Missing Persons. In episode 1 when the boys are eating the hotdogs, behind luke you can see his missing person poster showing that his parents were looking for him and trying to get him to come home which is honestly just heartbreaking and tears at my soul. 

2) Signs, all the Signs. In episode 2 when they go to check on reggie’s parents and find the bike shop the name of the bike shop is ‘Petals on the Beach’. Julie’s mum was in a band named ‘Rose and the Petal Pushers.’ Then in episode 5 when we see Willie at the Hollywood Ghost Club we can see that he has a flower pin on his jacket. 

I don’t know for sure if it’s a dahlia or not but it does look like it is to me. Then in episode 6 when Luke goes to see his parents there is a vase of Dahlia’s on the counter behind them. Obviously these flowers link to Julie’s mum and I think it’s interesting that these three things are being linked to Julie’s mum. My theory is that these are connected to each of the boys unfinished business somehow and Rose is leaving hints for the boys. I also think their unfinished business might link back in someway to their parents. We know that they all left their parents on bad terms. Reggie’s parents were having troubles and were close to divorce, Alex’s weren’t accepting of his sexual orientation and Luke ran away leaving on bad terms. We’ve seen a little bit of resolution in Luke’s regard but the other two still haven’t had any. I also don’t think its any one thing that’s their unfinished business but more like a collection of milestones they need to resolve. 

3) Fire, Water and Leather Vests. In episode 6 when the band performs finally free Julie is wearing her mum’s vest, its the same one we see Rose wearing in episode 1 when she meets sunset curve. 

Since then either rose or julie has added doodles to it. One of the doodles looks like flames, fire is a symbol of rebirth or resurrection. Another of the doodles looks like waves/ water. Water is a symbol of both life and freedom which makes it kind of perfect for a song called ‘finally free’.  

There is more fire symbolism in Stand Tall with the special effects behind the band showing fire like imagery. Throughout the performance it shows glowing embers and fireworks. 

Which is also similar to the firery effect made by the lights in the background of their Finally Free performance. 

These along with other symbols of rebirth and resurrection is obviously connected to how the boys were brought back to ‘life’ again by Julie but also how they brought Julie back to life too. 

4) More Doodles. Again sticking with episode 6 when we see Julie drawing on her microphone she is drawing a birthday cake which is meant for Luke. We know that she only seems to draw things that are important to her on the microphone the other doodles include a rose and a dahlia obviously symbolic of her mother, the words double trouble which links her to Flynn, the words I’ve got the music and music notes, this is her connection to music. Then the final thing she draws on it is the birthday cake which shows how Luke is important to her. I also think its important that she does this right after learning more about him and seeing a deeper side to him, I do think this is when her feelings for him really deepened. 

5)  Braided Together. This is one that I think alot of people noticed but the braids in Julie’s hair in both I got the Music and Stand Tall are the colours of the three boys, red, blue and pink. Again showing how intertwined all of their souls are with each other and with music. I think it very much represents how the boys brought music back into her life.

6) The Power of Purple. Both Caleb and Julie have the rare power of being able to make ghosts visible to lifers and most likely have other mystical powers too if that last scene with the band glowing and being able to be touched by Julie is any indication. Both of them wear the colour purple. 

The colour purple symbolises magic, mystery and spirituality. I do feel like Julie and Caleb are the opposite sides of the same coin. They both posess similar powers but they are using them for very different reasons. I think they very much represent the living and the dead. Julie kind of brings people back to life whereas Caleb draws people to the otherside, the afterlife. 

7) Greek Mythology. Speaking of the afterlife, in episode 5 when at the Hollywood Ghost Club, Caleb encourages the boys to eat some food, on first watch this just came across as a kinda funny scene but when I rewatched it I realised something. I actually think this is a nod at the myth of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds. In greek mythology if you ate or drank anything in the underworld then you would be trapped there forever. Obviously we know not long after eating Caleb brands the boys with his club stamp forcing them to make the decision of joining his band for eternity or being destroyed by the jolts. He decieves them just as Hades decieves Persephone.  

8) Full Circle. Both the band’s first performance (Bright) and last (stand tall) starts with Julie on stage alone unknowing that the boys are going to show up. In the first performance she doesn’t know yet that they can be visible when on stage with her and in Stand tall she thinks they have been destroyed by the jolts already. It brings her journey full circle. 

9) Maternal Ties. The first time we see Luke perform and the last he has the same scarf tied around his arm.

He also has this same scarf in his back pocket during finally free both the performance and the episode as a whole. My theory is that the scarf belonged to his mother. During Unsaid Emily when you see him packing and arguing with his mother the scarf is in his back pocket. You can see it in his back pocket again during unsaid emily when he is singing as a ghost if that makes sense. 

It tends to show up, from what I can tell, either when Luke is having a big moment like the night that was suppose to be sunset curve’s big break at the Orpheum or Julie and the Phantoms performance at the Orpheum. Or when it has something to do with his mother like in episodes Finally Free and Unsaid Emily. I think he carries it as a good luck charm. 

10) Butterflies and Roses. In episode 7 during the edge of great performance the butterflies on julie’s top are the colours of the band. Red for Reggie, blue for Luke, pink for Alex and purple for Julie. Butterflies are a symbol of transformation and again another symbol of rebirth and resurrection. Also during the final performance Reggie has butterflies and flowers on his vest. Luke has roses on his guitar strap (also skulls but lets ignore that for now) and Alex has a rose in his suit jacket. 

Again the butterflies are symbolising the rebirth of the group but also could be to do with that transformation the boys go through at the end where they can now be touched. (I have soo many questions about that scene.) Also we have the roses which again shows the link to Rose and how she brought Julie and the boys together. 

Like I said I’m sure most of these are really obvious but I get excited about little details like these and the producers really did do an amazing job at weaving them throughout the show. I’m sure there are even more that I’ve missed so if you know of anymore please feel free to enlighten me. Still keeping my fingercrossed for a season 2.

 Edit: I found more fun little details and yes I am obsessed, part 2 can be read here if anyone is interested. 

[imaginativeamateur]

[Gaara X Reader] You Feel Like Home {Part 5}

Prologue   Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 6   Part 7   Epilogue

Pairing: Gaara x gn!Reader

~~/ / Gaara was well aware that it was his first time being mentally and physically drawn to someone else. And that person just happened to be you, who incidentally felt the same way around. / /~~

You had been working as an “Advisor” for the dear Kazekage for two hours and a half until your stomach grumbled. Gaara put his pen down on the table and stood up, pulling you with him, “Let’s go grab lunch, I’m hungry.”

You were the hungry one, you supposed, but followed him anyway. You two sat on a bench and ate your lunches while discussing the earlier documents and commenting on random topics that came across. You had gathered enough courage to confess your feelings, and there was not much time left. It was now or never. “Gaara,” you called.

“I’m listening.”

“I think I —,”

“Kazekage-sama,” a masked Ninja appeared in front of you, “Konoha’s Shinobi had arrived. They are waiting outside your office.”

“Got it!” You both responded and shot up from where you were sitting, charging back to his office, your unfinished sentence was completely forgotten. Maybe it would be better this way.

Temari and Kankuro were both present when you and Gaara arrived, they greeted you and instantly got down to their chairs to discuss the plan. You were surprised to see the group Shinobi that your village sent on this mission, which included Temari’s biggest crush, the ramen-lover, and his pink-haired teammate, and finally their teacher, the Copy Ninja.

“After tracking them down to their hideout, we spotted two of their members, Sasori and Deidara.” Temari started, “There might be others hiding around but here are the profiles of the whole organization and the map I sketched of their hideout.”

When his sister had finished, Kankuro handed out the same reports that you saw with Gaara of Sasori and Deidara together with a detailed sketch of their dent.

“Here are the photos we received several days ago.” Gaara pulled out the familiar envelope that made you sick in the stomach and passed it to Kakashi.

“There are eight Shinobi held captive based on the photos they sent, we still don’t know if there are more.” You pressed after sucking in a deep inhale.

Shikamaru started analyzing the reports that specialized in missing-nins’ power and abilities before moving on to the photos and the map. You did not miss how Temari’s eyes were solely directed at the intelligent and could not help but feel happy for them. You knew Shikamaru developed a rather special feeling toward the blonde from the Chunin Exam years ago.

“Our initial plan is to rescue them without having to directly fight their members.” Gaara continued.

“That is very unlikely,” the spiky hair countered, “holding eight Chunins and above captive requires a stronger force, not to mention they are expecting us to come. There must be others around waiting to attack.”

As expected from Shikamaru, very sharp and keen. He then further his explanation, “Therefore, it’s more effective if we set up a trap for them to fall into. We need to lure them in.”

All eyes were now focused on him, tensed, waiting for the Nara heir to elaborate. He finally said, “Kazekage-sama, you’re the most suitable for this position.”

The temperature dropped after Shikamaru’s words left his lips. Your eyes did not waver. You had expected this the moment you saw the determination in Gaara’s eyes when you both discovered the true hand behind the incident. It was what you admired about him, after all.

“I see. Please continue.” Gaara simply nodded, his gaze severely calm when you met his eyes.

“If they are after the tailed-beasts, why not me instead?” It was Naruto who raised his voice this time.

Sakura said with a stern voice, “They already went after you, so they now move on to the Kazekage.”

Kakashi nodded in consensus, “We will have Kazekage-sama and Shikamaru on the front line.”

“Right,” Shikamaru agreed, “Naruto, Kankuro, and Temari will go in through the back and rescue all Shinobi. One or more of the members will probably be around the area so we need Kakashi and Sakura to stop them from interfering with the other three’s mission.”

“That sounds possible.” The other Shinobi nodded at his plan, seemed clear and ready to go.

“We will get to their hideout tomorrow, rest up guys.” Gaara stood up a waved.

They all got up from their seats and went for the door, Shikamaru was the last one to leave.

“Hey, Shikamaru, I need to ask you something.” You quickly made your way to him.

“Yes?” He slightly frowned but spun around to face you.

“It’s going to be quick, don’t worry.” You smiled with hesitation, “Why didn’t you include me in your plan earlier?”

“Do you really want to know?” He put his hands into his pocket and leaned on one leg, the others in the room already stopped to pay you two some attention. You nodded, already doubting your ability. Was it because you were too weak?

“Because you’re important,” he bluntly said, “to the target.”

[jaesqueso]

The Bachelorette: NCT edition - Men tell all (special)

The season of love is finally here! An interactive series where you’ll get to choose who goes home each week and ultimately who Y/N chooses in the end!

pairing: nct(ot23) x fem!reader

summary: The eliminated bachelors come back to spill the tea on the season

episode guide

word count: 5,086

warnings: none :)

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Last week on the Bachelorette:

3 men go on international dates to prove they deserve to be up for the final rose.

In the most heartbreaking rose ceremony this season, Y/N says goodbye to one more bachelor leaving only two to dispute her heart.

Before we get into the final decision, we bring back all the eliminated contestants for a get together nobody will forget.

What was left unsaid? Are feelings still hurt? Who’s got exciting news?

Find out on the Bachelorette!

-

Chris: “Good evening everybody! My name is Chris Harrison and today we bring back all the eliminated contestants from this season of The Bachelorette where we’ll reminisce about everything that happened! Later on, the beautiful Y/N will join us to give her side of things too so we don’t miss out on any detail. Now, without further due, please welcome the bachelors: Jisung, Chenle, Sungchan, Taeil, Yangyang, Ten, Lucas, Mark, Jungwoo, Winwin, Xiaojun, Kun, Doyoung, Shotaro, Hendery, Haechan, Renjun, Johnny, Jaehyun, Taeyong and Jeno!”

One by one the guys enter the stage smiling and waving to the cameras and getting seated in the couches available.

Chris: “Welcome back everyone, I’m so excited to have you all here and hopefully ready to tell us all the truth!”

They all cheer and clap excited to discuss their journeys on the show.

Chris: “23 bachelors started in the competition to win a beautiful girl’s heart, but week by week they had to say goodbye to their chance at love. Based of first impressions 5 of them didn’t even unpack their bags and get settled at the guest house. Jisung, Chenle, Sungchan, Taeil and Yangyang, how did it feel to be sent back right in the first night?”

Chenle: “I was quite sad actually because I felt like there wasn’t even a chance to prove myself.”

Yangyang: “Yeah, there wasn’t enough time to really talk to Y/N and present ourselves.”

Sungchan: “I agree, but on the other hand I feel like I personally could’ve done more that night.”

Taeil: “I kinda feel the same, maybe if I had approached her instead of just chilling around I could’ve stayed a little longer.”

Jisung: “But it was really intimidating with so many people in the room.”

Chris: “It must be hard to fight for attention in a room full of men all with the same objective. In the beginning it really comes down to who’s able to be memorable and who’s not. Even though you were only in the house for a few hours, was it a good experience?”

Yangyang: “I wouldn’t say good, maybe interesting is the right work.”

Taeil: “Definitely interesting.”

Jisung: “Also made me realise that this is not how I’d want to meet my future wife.”

Chenle: “Yeah, I feel like I’d prefer something more traditional.”

Sungchan: “But it was still interesting, for sure.”

Chris: “It’s never a wasted experience right? Thank you for joining us tonight.”

Everybody claps and the five boys smile and bow.

Chris: “After that first night 18 of these men settled in the guest house and got ready to start going on dates with our bachelorette. 2 of them were even lucky even to have an individual date but one of them didn’t end as they expected it. Lucas, why don’t you come and join me?”

Everybody cheers as Lucas gets up and sits on the chair next to Chris.

Chris: “So Lucas, Y/N choose you for one of the first one-on-one dates of the season and she even picked you up to take you to the beach. How were you feeling in the beginning?”

Lucas: “Oh Chris, I was so excited. I did not expect her to pick me up and we had so much fun on the ride, just singing and laughing. It was really cool. And when we got to the beach I was having a really good time with her. She’s an amazing girl and I felt like that was a good start to possibly build something in the future.”

Chris: “It did seem like you two were having a lot of fun until you were telling her a story that seemed a little bit familiar right?”

Lucas: “That really caught me off guard, but when she started to say things about Ahreum it all started to make sense.”

Chris: “Yes because actually the first time Y/N saw you she said you looked familiar.”

Lucas: “I know! But back then I didn’t think too much about it because I was so excited for the journey ahead. To be honest I had only seen her a few times before and she has changed a bit over the years so I didn’t even think to connect her to my past.”

Chris: “It was really a surprise to all of us. And then she left you at the restaurant and went back to the mansion. What was going through your head?”

Lucas: “Honestly I think my head was completely blank, I didn’t even know what to think, I only started to reflect on things once I got back to the guest house. Everybody kept asking me how the date went and I didn’t know what to say.”

Chris: “The following day, Y/N called you to the mansion to discuss the situation, were you expecting to go home when you went there?”

Lucas: “I kind of was, even if we had decided to give it a chance and see how things went, Ahreum would always be in the back of our heads and I would end up still going home.”

Chris: “Speaking of Ahreum, a lot of the fans are really curious, did you have the chance to meet her once you were out of the show?”

Lucas: “Actually… Yes.”

There’s a lot of whistles and cheers around the room.

Lucas: “When I left I couldn’t stop thinking about her because we did leave things unfinished back then when I left the country so I thought we should at least sit down and talk. So I called her and she agreed to meet and it was a very pleasant conversation.”

Chris: “That is really amazing! Do you two still keep in touch?”

Lucas: “We have. In fact, we decided to give us another change so we are now officially back together!”

Chris: “Wow! What an unexpected turn of events! I think everybody will be very happy to hear about it. How did Y/N react to those news?”

Lucas: “She was genuinely very happy for us, she’s been really supportive of our relationship and it’s really good that I got a very good friend like her out of this experience.”

Chris: “Well Lucas, I am very happy to hear things worked out for you and I wish you two all the best.”

Lucas: “Thank you, Chris.”

Everybody claps as Lucas gets up and returns to his seat.

Chris: “But Lucas was not the only one leaving after the first week. After a racy soccer match we said goodbye to 4 more bachelors. Ten, Mark, Jungwoo and Winwin, what did you feel when you didn’t hear your name being called?”

Ten: “Oh I was so sad! I was having so much fun!”

Jungwoo: “Yeah it was really fun to get to know Y/N.”

Mark: “But we knew we couldn’t all stay, someone had to go.”

Winwin: “I had a feeling it would be me.”

Chris: “Why did you think that Winwin?”

Winwin: “I’m a more quiet guy and with so many big personalities I’d end up fading into the background.”

Chris: “I can see how it can get overwhelming to be surrounded by so much competition.”

Jungwoo: “Sometimes even if you try your best to stand out it isn’t enough.”

Mark: “There was always someone who shined a little bit more.”

Ten: “You can only do so much. But it was fun!”

The others nod in agreement.

Chris: “Well, I’m glad you at least had a good time.”

Everybody claps for the 4 boys.

Chris: “On the second week we had two more individual dates and in the group date the guys met Ahreum to shoot a Charity Calendar. Kun you didn’t seem to have a good time there, what happened?”

Kun: “Ah… When we were in the dressing room getting ready I looked around and everybody seemed to have amazing costumes and I thought mine was just terrible. At the time I was really upset but now looking back at the footage I realise I exaggerated on my reaction, I should’ve just had fun with it.”

Chris: “Y/N surely didn’t appreciate your attitude, do you think there’s something you could’ve done to stay?”

Kun: “She asked me why I was so upset and I should’ve just been honest about it, I thought that not talking about it would just make the situation go away but after talking to her at the cocktail party after I realised I should’ve just said something and maybe I would’ve gotten another chance. But we’ll never know now!”

Chris: “That’s why I always told you guys to just enjoy and make the most out of every situation. Xiaojun, you were also eliminated that week, why do you think that happened?”

Xiaojun: “I think there was just lack of investment from my side. At the time I didn’t notice but like Kun was saying, after you see yourself on the screen you understand what you could’ve done better.”

Chris: “Do you feel like you were holding back?”

Xiaojun: “I wouldn’t say holding back, it was more me not creating situations where we could’ve maybe bonding a little bit more. And I do regret that.”

Chris: “Sometimes it’s not about what you did but what you didn’t do. Thank you for sharing.”

Claps fill the room.

Chris: “The following week we saw one of the most heartbreaking eliminations of the season on an individual date. Shotaro, the fans were devastated to see you go. When you went on the date did you have any idea you wouldn’t be coming back to the guest house?”

Shotaro: “Yes and no. I had a lot of fun on the date and I really like her but I knew I wasn’t at the same level as many of the other contestants, they’re such amazing guys.”

Chris: “Do you think feeling that way sabotaged your stay?”

Shotaro: “Not really. I knew I would eventually go home and I’m happy Y/N took the time to actually talk to me alone and explain what she felt, I really appreciated it.”

Chris: “Even though you weren’t destined for love, she seemed interested in keeping a friendship with you, is that in your plans?”

Shotaro: “Oh definitely! We actually have talked a few times after the shooting and she even promised to make me the godfather of one of her future kids!”

Chris: “Wow, that’s really amazing Shotaro! I’m sure the fans will be happy to know you two haven’t given up on the beautiful friendship we saw you construct. Now, by the end of the week we said goodbye to one more bachelor that left with a warning. Doyoung, come on up and join me!”

Doyoung gets up to sit next to Chris as the other guys look at each other.

Chris: “Doyoung, before you left the mansion after your elimination you told Y/N something that left her shook. She tried to ignore it at first but then she decided to confront the bachelors as you revealed some was not being honest and already had a girlfriend back home. Because we never got a real explanation what can you tell us about this?”

Doyoung: “I received some hate after those episodes aired and a lot of people said I only did that because I was upset that I was going home. While that may have been true, I did not lie. I heard some conversations and I thought Y/N should know because it was not fair that this person kept being in the competition and possibly break her heart.”

Chris: “So you’re saying the objective of your message was to help Y/N and not hurt her?”

Doyoung: “Absolutely.”

Chris: “So why not let her know who this person was and just leave it vague? I think that’s what made a lot of people doubt the truthfulness of you words.”

Doyoung: “I thought I should give that person the opportunity to come clean, but I guess he never did.”

Chris: “Ok, let’s clarify things then. Did you actually hear someone say they had a girlfriend?”

Doyoung: “I didn’t hear those exact words but I understood from the context.”

Chris: “You didn’t hear those exact words? So how come you assumed that’s what the person meant with whatever they said?”

Doyoung: “Now that we’re all here, I think we should finally give time for that person to come forward and clear things out. Johnny, care to say something?”

Gasps are heard from everywhere, including Chris. Johnny simply lowers his gaze and chuckles, shaking his head.

Chris: “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we were not expecting this. Johnny did you have a girlfriend when you joined this competition.”

Johnny: “I didn’t, Chris.”

Doyoung: “Well that’s not what I heard.”

Johnny: “Well maybe you shouldn’t have been hearing half conversation behind the door and assume things without asking people first.”

Chris: “Ok, now I’m really confused. Johnny what was the conversation about?”

Johnny: “Well, right in the first week there was this one night everybody had gone to bed but me and Ten stayed outside for a little longer. We were getting to know each other and we ended up talking about past relationships and if Doyoung really cared to know the truth he would’ve understand that I just told Ten that I had been though a break up right before I decided to apply for this.”

Doyoung: “But I heard you say you still had feelings for this person, isn’t that the same thing?”

Johnny: “I’ll always have feelings for my ex-girlfriend but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t ready to move on. And I was.”

Chris: “But wasn’t it too soon to enter a show to find love right after you got out of a relationship?”

Johnny: “At the time I didn’t think so and I still don’t. I went into the show ready to fall in love again and I felt like I was walking to that.”

Chris: “Why didn’t you had this conversation with Y/N at the time when you saw how hurt she was with all of this?”

Johnny: “Honestly I didn’t think Doyoung was talking about me. Firstly because he wasn’t there and secondly because I didn’t have a girlfriend and I never said I did.”

Chris: “But later on when you were eliminated you told her not to worry about the girlfriend situation anymore. Had you put the pieces together by then?”

Johnny: “As you can imagine, around that time that’s all we talked about at the guest house and I realised it couldn’t be anything else.”

Chris: “Did any of this weighted on your decision not to accept the rose on your individual date later on?”

Johnny: “A little bit I have to admit. I really felt like I was starting to fall in love with Y/N but I knew she didn’t feel the same thing for me.”

Chris: “So you decided to go home by yourself before she sent you packing?”

Johnny: “I was just trying to save her a harder decision by the end of the week, that’s all. I never meant to hurt her in anyway, but I also didn’t wanted to hurt myself.”

Chris: “So going back on the girlfriend/ex-girlfriend situation, after you left the show did you re-connect with this person?”

Johnny: “Actually no. Our relationship was more than solved in my head and I don’t feel like there’s anything else to be said.”

Chris: “Doyoung, hearing Johnny’s explanation what do you think about all this?”

Doyoung: “Honestly I don’t know if I believe it.”

Ten: “Chris, if I can just say something.”

Chris: “Of course, Ten.”

Ten: “What Johnny said about our conversation is true, we were talking about past relationships but he never said he had something still on going.”

Chris: “I guess it’s up to everyone to believe what they want. Doyoung, before you go back to your seat, if you went back would you do anything differently? Would you talk to Johnny first? Would you not say anything to Y/N? Or say something sooner?”

Doyoung: “Honestly I don’t know, I guess being upset at the time didn’t even allowed me to think straight. But if I want back to that moment before I went home I would’ve at least said Johnny’s name so that she could go straight to him.”

Chris: “Thank you, Doyoung. Also Ten and Johnny for giving us your side of the story.”

Doyoung goes back to his place and the mood is tense.

Chris: “The following week during a boat ride there were some fun moments were the bachelors had the chance to bond with our bachelorette but after a conversation was heard the reaction was not the best. Haechan what did you first think when you heard Y/N and Jeno talk about a kiss they had previously shared?”

Haechan: “In that moment my heart dropped to the floor. I was trying my best to get close to her and I had no idea she was already that close to anyone. Specially because we previously talked about it and nobody shared that.”

Chris: “You know what they say, a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Haechan: “That’s true, that’s true. But at the time I just felt betrayed and I didn’t even know why.”

Chris: “And then you exploded and said somethings Y/N didn’t really appreciated.”

Haechan: “That’s what I regret the most. I did what I thought was right at the time, but looking back at the images I should’ve never talked to her like that. If I could go back I wouldn’t have done that scene and waited to talk to her when I was a little bit more calm.”

Chris: “It’s very good to see that you understand what you did wrong and regret it. Thank you, Haechan.”

Everybody claps.

Chris: “The week after we faced what was possibly the hardest confrontation of this season. It started since week one but it just kept aggravating throughout time, to the point that Y/N had to make the decision to have them in a two-on-one date to send one of them home. Hendery, how did you feel when you weren’t chosen to stay?”

Hendery: “It was rough. I really thought I had a chance to stay but I guess she was right. I did end up letting this whole situation get to my head and lost focus on what was really important and what I actually signed up for.”

Chris: “We did see a few moments where it was just you and Y/N and it felt like something could blossom but whenever you were with other people you seemed to instantly get in defence mode.”

Hendery: “You know, Chris, after seeing myself on TV I realised that I was really dumb. I feel like we had gotten along so well if only I had ignored everyone else around. I should’ve kept my calm most times instead of exploding like that so at the end of the day I do understand why she chose to send me home instead of Renjun. He seemed to a little bit whenever she talked to him and I didn’t.”

Chris: “Renjun, what do you have to say from your side?”

Renjun: “I think it is a common thing to think you’re doing something right and realise how stupid you’re being when you see yourself on the screen. Honestly if I was Hendery I would’ve probably reacted the same way because I did come off as such a jerk.”

Chris: “The fans are pretty divided between who was right, are you saying you ended up being the bad guy?”

Renjun: “I don’t see myself as the bad guy, I think we both thought we were right but ended up making some not so good decisions.”

Chris: “Hendery, do you share this opinion?”

Hendery: “After watching the scenes at home, yes I do agree, we both did and said things that weren’t right and I apologise for being a bit aggressive in my approach.”

Renjun: “Yeah, I would also like to apologise, not only to Hendery but to everybody if I ever did something you didn’t appreciate because I mostly likely didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

Chris: “I’m really proud of you guys in this moment for manning up and talking about this. Can we agree to leave this in the past and focus on a brighter future?”

Renjun and Hendery look at each other and then nod with a smile.

Chris: “I think we need to seal this, don’t you agree guys? You two should hug it out!”

The other boys start cheering as Hendery and Renjun get up giving each other a tight hug that leaves everyone happy with the turn out.

Chris: “Now that we’ve moved on from this tough situation let’s talk about the next gentleman that left the competition. Jaehyun, did you ever think it would be you?”

Jaehyun: “Not really, I actually thought I had a chance to make it to the end.”

Chris: “Some say you got comfortable after Y/N gave you a kiss that you stopped trying to win her heart, specially with your attitude during the two-on-one date with Taeyong. What was really on your mind?”

Jaehyun: “Honestly I don’t know why I looked so apathetic on every shot! I actually had a lot of fun that day, the museum was really cool. Maybe I was a bit jealous having to share the attention with Taeyong but I didn’t realise that maybe Y/N would’ve start feeling like I stopped trying, because that was definitely not true.”

Chris: “You did get emotional when you had to finally say goodbye and that shows you actually cared about Y/N.”

Jaehyun: “I do care a lot about her and I’ll always cherish the moments we spent together. Even though I thought I’d get further in the competition I could feel her feelings were already growing for someone else. But it was still very hard to leave.”

Chris: “Thank you for sharing Jaehyun.”

Everybody claps.

Chris: “After Jaehyun we saw another beloved contestant get sent home. Taeyong, how did it feel to be so close and get sent home?”

Taeyong: “It was bittersweet. It felt good to know we were getting closer and I really enjoy Y/N’s company but deep down I knew it was too late. We only started bonding mid-way through the journey and she already had very strong connections with the other guys.”

Chris: “What would’ve you have done differently?”

Taeyong: “I would’ve focused on Y/N from the beginning instead of trying to make friends first, sorry guys!”

They all laugh.

Chris: “Do you at least take some friendships out of this experience?”

Taeyong: “I’d like to think so!”

Everybody cheers in agreement.

Chris: “Last but not least we saw the bachelorette say goodbye to someone a lot of the fans of the show thought would make it to the finale. Jeno, did you see yourself in the final, possibly taking that last rose and spending your life with Y/N?”

Jeno: “I definitely did. Really early on I started developing feelings for Y/N and I felt like we were in sync but I guess I wasn’t the only one she was in sync with.”

Chris: “On the fantasy suite we saw you two talk about the future and you expressed your lack of interest in moving out of your hometown. Do you think that might have been a deal breaker for her?”

Jeno: “Like you said earlier today, sometimes it’s not about what you do, but what you don’t do. The further we got into this journey the more selective she had to be and unfortunately I believe that was the disagreement, let’s say, that got me sent home.”

Chris: “If you could go back would you do anything different?”

Jeno: “If I could go back I’d do it all over again just like I did. I really appreciate all the moments we shared and I wouldn’t change them one bit.”

Chris: “You were definitely a fan favorite this season and the people want to know: are you still single and looking for love?”

Jeno: “I am, Chris, but it might be that my search could be coming to an end.”

Chris: “Is that so? I feel like there’s more to that story.”

Jeno: “There is actually. I’d like to take this opportunity to announce I will be staring in the next season of the Bachelor where, like Y/N, I will be looking for the right person to spend the rest of my life with.”

The other guys cheer in support of these news.

Chris: “Those are very exciting news!”

Jeno: “They are, I’m really excited to do this.”

Chris: “Well Jeno, we’re really excited for you and we hope you find love.”

Jeno: “Thank you, Chris.”

Everybody claps.

Chris: “We have heard from the bachelors, but how about the one calling the shots? She had been backstage hearing the whole conversation and will now join us to give her side of the story. Let’s give a warm welcome to: Y/N!”

Everyone in the room gets up and cheers and you enter the stage taking the seat next to Chris.

Chris: “Welcome Y/N. How are you feeling?”

You: “It’s really great to be here and see all this familiar faces!”

You wave and smile at all of the guys you met and spent time with during weeks.

Chris: “You have been listening the whole night, id there anything you’d like to say?”

You: “Definitely. To the first guys that went home I’d like to again say sorry because I didn’t even gave you a change, I believe you are amazing.”

They thank you with a smile.

You: “Lucas, I’m really happy we made the decision to call it quits since that helped you reconnect with Ahreum. It was not fair the way things had ended between you two back in the day and I was thrilled to know you reunited. I can’t wait to receive an invitation to your wedding, and make it a plus one!”

Everybody laughs and Lucas throws you a thumbs up accepting your terms.

You: “Shotaro, I’m really happy with the way we left things and I will make you the godfather to one of my kids, I’ll keep that promise!”

He smiles excitedly.

You: “Doyoung, hearing the whole explanation now it did feel quite unnecessary for you to leave things like that, you could’ve just mentioned Johnny’s name and I could’ve just cleared the whole situation with him. You say you did it to help me but I was really hurt by it actually. And Johnny, I do understand that initially you didn’t connect the dots but once you figured out the whole thing could be about you, you should’ve said something instead of just leaving like that. You left me wondering if I did something wrong even if I did understand your reasons.”

You gulp feeling yourself get a bit emotional.

You: “Haechan, thank you for acknowledging what you said wasn’t right and I hope you think twice before reacting like that ever again.”

He mouths an ‘I’m sorry’ and you nod with a smile before you move to the next guys.

You: “Renjun and Hendery, I was really happy to see you two talk it out and make up. The whole thing was just way too dramatic and it would kill me to know you’d hold a grudge. I hope you take this experience to the future and know how to reach a little better if you end up facing something like this. Which I hope you don’t!”

Everybody laughs not wanting to imagine these two getting involved in any more love messes together.

You: “Jaehyun, thank you for explaining what you felt that day because to me it did seem like you started to take things for granted between us and that did throw me off a little bit. But I understand your side now even thought that might not have made a difference at the time.”

He smiles at you with those perfect dimples that still make your heart flutter.

You: “Taeyong, it was really hard letting you go but I mean it when I say that however wins your heart in the future will be very happy by your side.”

You take a deep breath before you move on the the last one you said goodbye to.

You: “Ah Jeno… I didn’t know I had it in me to send you home. But I’m really excited to know you’ll have the opportunity to go on your own journey and I hope you’ll be able to find true love amongst the contestants. I really fo wish you all the best.”

He thanks you before you turn back to Chris.

You:  “I think that’s it!”

You wipe the little tear at the corner of your eye with a smile.

Chris: “Thank you so much for being here with us today, Y/N. Also thank you to all the bachelors that came here to share their sides of the story and clear their names. To you at home, please stay tuned for next week where we’ll finally know who takes the last rose and the bachelorette’s heart. Could it be Yuta? Could it be Jaemin? Could it be none? Find out next week! My name is Chris Harrison and this was the special episode of ‘Men tell all’. Goodnight!”

-

In the next episode:

The final 2 bachelors pour their hearts out for the last time:

“I think we were destined to meet.”

“I knew you were the one the moment I saw you.”

“I love you.”

And plans are made for the future.

“I can make you the happiest woman in the world.”

“Will you marry me?”

Stay tuned for next weeks episode premiering 22/08.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

Episode 10

a/n: what a throwback in this special! I hope you could get the clarification in all things left unsaid and I still can’t believe next week we’ll know who get’s the lst rose! do give me some feedback please! ❤

taglist: @skrtbabe @yutahoes @yokshi-unbeliebubble @nakamotonudes @n0hyuck @negincho @love-and-other-possibilities @readers-posts @sylviacxt @tyongf-sunflower99 @princessjunnie @thejungjaehyun

If you’d like to be included in the taglist for the series do let me know ❤︎

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Prove Them Wrong | Reggie Peters

A/N: I got these two requests for a Reggie fic and decided to merge them together, I hope you don’t mind! 

Request 1:  Please i just want a fanfic of reggie discovering YouTube and uploading home is where my horse is video and the gang reacting to it since people absolutely love it

Request 2:  Hi!! Can you do one where the reader is julies friend and is with her when the boys come back and her and Reggie have a instant connection and he follows her around and is always talking to her

Relationships: Reggie x Reader, Sunset Curve x Reader, JATP x Reader

Warnings: Fluff? 

Words:  4,165

Your life has been pretty ordinary for the past 16 years. A life pretty much every person would call boring was a life you wouldn’t change for the world’s most expensive things. Until you met Reggie and the other boys from Sunset Curve. You say boys, but it would be much more accurate if you said ghosts. Sunset Curve was a ghost band from the 90’s that popped into your life one night when you were helping your best friend Julie clean up her mother’s studio. 

2 months earlier… 

A text from Julie comes in when you’re doing your homework on your bed whilst watching reruns of Friends on your laptop. The show makes for good background noise, you find. “911!” Worry rises within you as you read the call-for-help text from your best friend. “U ok?” you text back. Three dots begin dancing on the screen, raising suspense. “Do u wanna come help me clean out mom’s studio? :( x” A soft smile plays at your lips whilst more dots appear. “Don’t think I can do it by myself.” You close the Netflix app on your laptop and get up to put some proper pants on. You had the habit to kick your jeans off the second you got home. Prancing around in your underwear after a tough day at school has become one of your favorite things to do, but Julie might not appreciate that too much, nor would the neighbors. “OMW!” you quickly text back and hop into your Vans before heading down to the Molina house. You find your best friend behind the grand piano, looking up at the chair-decorated ceiling of the shed. Something Julie’s mom did with a superstitious meaning you’d kind of forgotten. Neither you nor Julie believed it, to be fair. “Hey,” you greet softly, making her look at you. A smile appears on her lips, glad you’d be willing to come over and help. Like you’ve been so many times last year when her mother died. You’d be there to listen to her talk about all the memories with her mom, or to hug her as she cried because she missed her.  This is just another part of the grieving process she needs to get through, and you’re there to hold her hand all the way through it. “Are you okay?” you ask, walking towards the piano and leaning your forearms on it. “Yeah, it’s just a little weird to be here…” she says as her eyes start scanning the entire space. “There are so many memories of her in here.” Her fingers glide across the piano keys. “Yeah, I know,” you whisper, not wanting to bring up anything that might hurt her. You remember the days you’d come over to play with Julie and you’d hear her mom singing in her studio. You remember when you’d make music together with Carrie and her dad and Julie’s mom. There are so many unfinished songs about bunnies and puppies from when you were kids, and even some more recent ones about the person you had a crush on or about that boy that broke your heart when you were fifteen. Those songs are now stored away in the back of your mind, waiting for the day Julie would start singing again. Along with all those memories you put on tape.  “Let’s get crackin’!” you tap the top of the piano in a rhythmic beat before stepping away and holding out your hands for Julie to take. The girl gets up from the stool behind the piano and carefully places her hand in yours. You pull her away from the piano and halt in the middle of the garage, looking up to the loft that suddenly seems very looming. Both of you know whatever’s up there is the ghost of a musician’s past, and not even Julie’s mom’s. No, all the instruments up there are from the people that used to live here. Julie never told you, but you’re certain Carrie’s dad used to live here when he was a child and sold his parents’ house to Julie’s parents when they died. You’d noticed the way Trevor always stood in the doorway, glancing around with soft eyes and a tender smile tugging at his lips. Almost like he’s reminiscing about his past. Besides, he’s accidentally slipped up a few times when talking about his childhood, saying he used to play around here with some of his buddies. No one else ever mentioned it, so you didn’t either. There’s probably a good reason for him not to speak about his past in too much detail. You climb up the stairs first and step up on the wooden floor, letting your eyes scan over all the junk up here. Keyboards, old guitars, drumsticks, even an entire drum kit, along with bags and backpacks, all strewn around the place. “Y/N,” Julie’s voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. You look down to find Julie still on the stairs, half of her body in he loft. She’s holding a CD up to show you. “Sunset Curve?” you read aloud from the black CD case. “Never heard of that band.” “Let’s give it a listen?” she suggests and after receiving an agreeing nod from you, she climbs down again, followed by yourself. She places the CD into the stereo whilst you sit down on the couch. Julie presses play and joins you. “1-2-3 Take off, last stop Countdown till we blast open the top Face first, full charge--” The music fades away as it’s overpowered by a loud screeching noise. You look over at Julie, who has her hands up to her ear to cover them from the noise. Your eyebrows knit together, confused as to what’s happening. It might just be a fault in the production of the song? Or maybe a scratch on the CD? Before you can even come up with a decent reason, a bright flash lights up the entire garage, followed by a loud thud. And, when you look up, you find three boys in the middle of the studio, scrambling up from where they’d come down harshly. You and Julie quickly get up from the couch, wanting to take a closer look at the scene in front of you.  “Woah! How did we get back here?” One of them says, confused about his surroundings. Julie lets out an ear-piercing scream before running out of the garage, leaving you with those three boys. You have no clue what’s happening, and you don’t know what to do either. Should you run and hide like Julie? Or should you just wait and see if they have a reason for being here? “Hello!” one of them yells excitedly, making you snap out of your train of thoughts. It’s the dark-haired boy with the red flannel tied around his waist that’s talking to you. “I’m sorry, who are you and what are you doing in our studio?” Your eyes widen at this. They think this is their studio? “I-I’m… I’m sorry, gimme a second,” you say, holding up your finger. The boy nods curtly before you dash out of there too, running up to Julie’s room with the question haunting your head ‘Who are they? And why do they think it’s their studio?’ After a while, you and Julie pluck up the courage to go back into the garage, armed with a cross since Julie’s positive they’re ghosts. Turns out they are. They -- along with Google -- explain they’re three ghosts that used to be in a band called Sunset Curve and that they died after eating bad hotdogs in ‘95. Luke, Reggie and Alex introduce themselves to you, and from that moment on, you’re certain these three ghost boys will change your life forever. And they do. 

Present day

To say your life has changed since the day those boys came into your life is an understatement. It went from studying while watching Friends in your room to going out to their gigs almost every Saturday and sitting in on their rehearsals every day after school. You, along with Julie, have grown very close to the boys in the last five months. They’ve become your best friends you could talk to about everything and anything. But the most special connection you have, is with Reggie. Ever since that day, the boy hasn’t left you alone. Every time you’re at the Molina house, he’ll poof in, wherever you are. Whether you’re getting a drink or a snack in the kitchen, or  you’d just come out of the bathroom, he’d be there. This caused a lot of heart attacks, but also a lot of deep conversations.

Especially if he came to your own house. This was mostly when he’d had a bad day or missed his old life or his parents. He’d poof into your room and just tell you to do whatever you were doing, that he just wanted to hang out. After a few times, you didn’t even ask anymore and he didn’t have to tell you to just continue whatever you were doing. Those nights even ended with the two of you cuddling, which is something  you realized you could do for some unknown reason. But you liked it, so you didn’t think too much about it.  Today is Friday, which means it’s the last big rehearsal before the boys and Julie have their gig tomorrow night. And though you’d much rather be there with them, you have to watch your little siblings for the night since your parents have gone out to a dinner party. You’re making some popcorn in the kitchen for all of you to munch on when watching a movie, when Reggie suddenly poofs in, making you jump. You hadn’t expected him to come in this early, which causes the worry to well up inside of you. Something must’ve happened. “Reg, you okay?” you ask in a hushed voice, glancing back at the kids in front of the tv. “No…” he murmurs, wringing his flannel in his hands. He looks sad, sadder than when he misses his old life, which means something really bad must’ve happened. “Gimme a second,” you say and turn to leave the kitchen. Reggie smiles a little as those words remind him of the first words you ever said to them. “Kids, it’s time for bed!” Moans and whines come from the little kids on the sofa, protesting their early bedtime. “No complaining! Chop chop!” you rushed them up the stairs before returning to the kitchen. “Get yourself comfy on the couch, I’m just gonna put them to bed real quick, okay?” Reggie nods agreeingly and watches you walk away again. He grabs the bowl of popcorn you’d prepared and takes it into the living room. Even though he can’t eat, he’d want you to snack on it since you’re the one that made it. “Sorry it took so long. They can be really stubborn sometimes,” you exhale frustratedly as you plop onto the couch next to Reggie. “Now, tell me, what’s going on?” “So, I suggested to Luke we’d try this song I wrote a while ago,” he starts solemnly. “Home is Where My Horse is?” you ask, remembering him writing that up in your room. You’d even helped him on some verses.  “Yes, that one! But he just rejected it… Again!” he sighs exasperatedly, throwing his head back on the backrest of the couch. “Yelled at him that he didn’t appreciate my talent and just poofed out,” he chuckles airily, and you do too. “I’m sorry Luke isn’t more open to your creativity, Reg… I really wish I could help you somehow, if I knew something I--” you stop in your tracks as an idea pops into your head. “What is it, Y/N?” he asks, getting excited as it seems you have an idea.  “What if we film you singing the song and upload it on YouTube?” you suggest, eyes twinkling at the idea alone. He nods excitedly at first, but then slows down when he realizes he has no clue what you’re talking about. “What’s a YouTube?” he asks. You let out a giggle before grabbing his hand and leading him towards the dining table where you’d left your laptop. You open it on the site and show him the home page filled with different types of recommended videos. “It’s a platform where people can post videos of whatever they like. A lot of artists use it for their music videos nowadays. It’s where I posted ‘Edge of Great’ a few weeks ago,” you explain. 

He peers at the screen with wide, intrigued eyes. You then lean forward and type in ‘Queen don’t stop me now’ before hitting enter. Reggie’s eyes widen even more as you press play on the music video.

“I could film you with my dad’s equipment and edit the whole thing together and upload it. At least then the world will see how truly talented you are and maybe Luke might change his mind too?” He eagerly nods his head in agreement, getting excited about the whole idea. Besides him being able to prove to his band that his country songs are worth taking a second look at, it’s also a good opportunity for you to test out some new techniques. 

So, on Saturday, the two of you get up at the crack of dawn -- or you do since ghosts don’t really sleep -- and make your way down to the riding club your little brother goes for riding classes. You’re acquainted with the owners, so they’ll let you film whatever you need around there. Doesn’t even matter if it looks like you’re not filming anything. “Okay, you ready?” you mutter as you set up the first scene. He’s currently sitting on a picnic bench with his guitar in his lap and the stables in the background. Your camera is set up in front of Reggie with the stable doors on each side of his head, perfectly balanced. You simply nod your head curtly as his ‘action’ sign. He immediately starts strumming his guitar and singing out his self-made words. “Home, what is it really? Sometimes it’s a someone and not a place, It’s that feeling of being safe, It’s about who you’re with at the end of the day…” You spent the entire day running around the ranch, letting Reggie sing his song multiple times in different locations. You even film a couple of nature shots to edit in later. This is just going to be the greatest music video you’ve ever made, and it’s all thanks to Reggie. Your Sunday is spent behind your laptop, editing Reggie’s footage until it’s turned into a somewhat coherent video. “Hey!” Reggie poofs into your room late that night. “Where’ve you been? You missed movie night!” he asks, worry laced in his voice. You don’t even take your eyes off your screen. It’s almost finished just a few more… Yes! “I just finished editing your video! Wanna see?” He nods his head excitedly, so you make some room for him on the chair you’re sitting on. He seems hesitant at first, but eventually sits down on the very edge. Your entire side that’s touching his tingles. It’s always been a weird feeling to touch him, but this is from an entirely new calibre. You rewind the video and press play. There’s a shot of the surrounding nature at first and some horses galloping in the distance whilst the strumming of his guitar floats out of the laptop. Then the camera pans to Reggie on the picnic bench with his guitar. “Home, what is it really? Sometimes it’s a someone and not a place, It’s that feeling of being safe, It’s about who you’re with at the end of the day… and for me” The picture changes to Reggie looking out into the meadows, watching the horses frolic around in the grass with a couple of shots of him playing his guitar as he’s walking along with the horses. “Home is where my horse is! Riding through trees by the river Feel the summer breeze smile gettin’ bigger Home is where my horse is Don’t need a house or a roof I just put on the saddle, lace up my boots  Cuz home is where my horse is” In the next few shots, you’re even in it. Reggie had grabbed your camera and placed it on the grass before grabbing your hand and pulling you out into the meadow with him to dance. It probably looked most ridiculous to any bystanders, but the footage is too pretty not to use. You can just about see two silhouettes dancing around over the grass with a flare of sunlight breaking in and giving it a magical flair. “I don’t need the streets Don’t need the city lights I don’t need a fancy car I just hop on my horse and ride” You’d filmed a couple of the riders too, since Reggie himself couldn’t really ride a horse seeing he’s a ghost and everything. But it made for some good footage to set the scene of the song properly. “Home is where my horse is! Riding through trees by the river Feel the summer breeze smile gettin’ bigger Home is where my horse is I see the beautiful beast running up to me And I know I’m home” The song ends and the screen fades to black, Reggie vanishing as he looks out into the meadow again. You look up at real-life ghost Reggie with expectant eyes. He’s just staring at the black screen for a moment, mouth ajar and eyes wide. “Woah!” he finally mutters. “That was amazing, Y/N! Show me that again!” he exclaims excitedly. Of course you oblige and show him again. This time, he points out everything he loved. “This is my favorite part!” he says, pointing at the screen as the two of you are shown dancing. You can’t help but smile at how excited he gets over this collaboration. “So, can I upload it?” you ask when the screen fades again. “What?! Of course! Put it on the Tube-thing!” he claps his hands excitedly and watches as you open the site and start the upload on the Julie and The Phantoms channel. You had edited their Edge of Great video when Ray asked your father to help him film, so you pretty much had the right to do this, even if Julie might say otherwise. “There we go! It’s set to upload in about five minutes!” you say and turn to Reggie, almost forgetting how close he’s sitting until he’s literally mere inches away. You can actually feel his hot breath tickling your lips. A wave of warmth rushes through you when you catch his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again. “You’re really talented, you know that?” You simply hum in response to this compliment, not that you agree with him, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re completely frozen in place. His eyes are so pretty up close. They’re the most beautiful shade of green you have ever seen, especially with that twinkle in them. “Can I kiss you?” his soft voice makes you snap out of your thoughts about those dreamy eyes.     “Wh--what?” you stutter, hoping you did hear that right, but not wanting to assume. “C-can I kiss you?” he repeats, his voice just above a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Your voice wavers ever so slightly. Reggie’s eyes flutter close as he leans in to press his lips to yours. There’ve been times you dreamed about doing this, but you never thought you’d actually be able to kiss him. The ability to touch him was a surprise and a miracle, you didn’t think this would be possible too. A bleep coming from your computer causes you to pull away abruptly. You just about catch the smile on Reggie’s face before you turn to the screen, madly blushing yourself. “It’s ready to go!” you state excitedly and start typing up a description for the video. “What are you doing?” he asks, peering over your shoulder. “Typing up a little description for the fans, or whoever watches,” you reply as your fingers stilt for a second to think about what else to write. “Home is Where My Horse is, a Reggie original. Written and performed by your favorite bassist, Reggie Peters. Filmed and edited by Y/N Y/L/N. Special thanks to Hold Your Reins Ranch.” He reads the little text aloud. “Nice,” he nods his head, impressed by your abilities with this foreign platform. “And we’re live!” you inform him as you have pressed the post button. “Thanks, Y/N,” he says with a soft smile, making you look at him again. “I’m just gonna kiss you again, is that okay?” You nod your head before closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again. This is not what you’d expected to come from this project, but you’re glad it had. This feels right. That night, you send Julie a message with the link to the video. “Give the boy a chance. This is an actual bop!” you sent along with it. You’re a little scared you might’ve overstepped and shouldn’t have suggested making this video for Reggie and you definitely shouldn’t have posted it to the Julie and The Phantoms YouTube channel. It probably wasn’t your place to mingle into a band conflict, but you couldn’t handle seeing Reggie so upset. 

“Get ur talented ass to the studio. NOW,” Julie’s text reads. It sounds a little passive-aggressive, but you still obey and hop into some pants and shoes before heading down the other end of the street where the Molina house stands. “‘Sup, kids?” you say when you find the boys and Julie on the couch, throwing up a peace sign. The bubbliness might camouflage the nerves building up inside you. “Care to explain yourself, miss Y/L/N?” Julie starts with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. You glance over at Reggie. He’s glancing down at the rings around his fingers. “I’m sorry, Jules. But I really think you ought to give this boy and his horse a chance!” you aggressively point at the boy in question, whose head snaps up at this. Now he’s looking at you with a scared, yet tendered expression on his face.    “I was joking, babes,” Julie mutters, holding her hands up in defense. “We didn’t think you’d react this defensive over this…” Your eyebrows knit together as confusion takes over you. “Wh-what do you mean?” you question. “Your video has been viewed over a thousand times already and it’s only been up for about two hours, Y/N,” Julie explains and turns her laptop for you to see the view count at 1,327. Your breath hitches in your throat at the large number. That’s how many people have seen your work? I mean, you would’ve watched it that many times in a row yourself because that song is actually amazing. These people are stupid for not giving it a chance earlier. “Woah, Reg! That’s a lot of people hearing your song!” you exclaim excitedly. The boy gets up from the couch and walks over to you with a proud smile on his face. “Actually….” he starts and scrolls down on the laptop. You taught him how to do that. “They’re loving your camerawork and editing!” He shows you all the comments underneath the video. The reactions are divided evenly between praise for the song and praise for your work. “Wha--” your eyes dart from Reggie to Alex, then to Luke and Julie. “We had a band meeting and we want you to become our band’s official videographer,” Alex announces with that soft smile of his plastered on his lips. Your mouth drops in disbelief. You’ve always loved videography and editing, but you always saw it as something fun, not as an official band thing. After months of sitting in rehearsals and watching gigs, you’re finally going to be part of the band. Or close enough to being a part of the band. “What do you say, babe?” Reggie asks when you’ve been quiet for a good minute. Luke and Alex exchange glances at the sudden use of pet names. That’s new. “I mean, it could be cool?” you shrug humbly. The band cheers, Alex and Luke even high five. Before you can even go over to hug Julie, Reggie’s already cupped your face and crashes his lips to yours. You’ll never get used to that feeling. “That’s new,” you hear Alex say when the two of you pull away. You need a good second to cool it after that passionate kiss, but once you do, you beckon the others over for a group hug. “Thank you, guys,” you whisper and press a kiss to Julie’s hair as a thank you. From that day on, you’re not only known as the Julie and The Phantoms videographer, but also as the cute bassist’s girlfriend. To say your life has drastically changed since meeting these boys would be the understatement of the year.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @bookdealer5​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @hemmingsness​ @iainttakingshitfromnobody​ @ifilwtmfc​ @angryknightstatesmantrash​ @kiss-themoongoodbye​ @rudysbay​ @thedarkqueenofavalon​​ @caitsymichelle13​​ @calamitykaty​ @wiselight​ @kcd15​​

[watermelonsugawara]

Leave Your Mark

❥ warnings: nsfw; needles (tattooing), pain kink is that what u call it? LMFAO IDK, semi public sex???, handjob, fellatio, slight edging, face sitting, fingering, mild dacryphilia woops, unprotected sex, creampie

❥ characters: iwaizumi x tattoo artist!fem!reader

❥ a/n: so i had this idea and it was originally meant to be ukai x reader ,,,, BUT ive never written about iwa yet SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO i thought it was his time to fuckin SHINE

ALSO i half assed my editing so dont bully me <///3

❥ summary: you’ve given countless thigh tattoos to clients before, but this specific client had a particular liking towards pain.

wc: dude idek like 3k+ ?? JFJSJDJDH

...

The familiar chime of the tattoo parlor doorbell caught your attention as you finished cleaning your needles. You were the one closing up shop, so you knew that there’s only one reason for the ringing of the door, your last client of the day.

You’d seen him in the shop before, but he had gotten a tattoo from one of your coworkers. Nevertheless, he caught your eye even for the short moments you saw him passing through the shop. He was undeniably attractive, so it was even better to see him up close when he discussed tattoo details with you in previous meetings.

“Nice to see you again, Iwaizumi,” you said as you sauntered behind the counter. He nodded in greeting as you shuffled through a binder to find the tattoo you designed for him. A dragon, surrounded by cherry blossom flowers. It was a pain in the ass to draw but you were enthralled to put the art somewhere permanently.

Iwaizumi leaned forward against the glass counter to get a better admire your work. His shirt wrapped tightly around his biceps just right, the thin material giving subtle hints to his toned shoulders and chest underneath. Always so handsome upclose.

“You ready?” You smiled at him, motioning him towards the tiny nook of your tattooing station.

“Yep, I’m very excited,” Iwaizumi grinned back. Unbeknownst to you, the actual tattoo was only half the fun for him.

As you finished gathering your supplies, Iwaizumi stepped out of his jeans and lied down on the leather bench. You kept your routine speech short as the dark-haired man relaxed into the cool black material, knowing you’d have to review aftercare with him at the end of the session anyways.

Everything went like clockwork— shaving, sanitizing, tracing. The tattoo was centered on his right thigh, and you couldn’t help but notice how thick his thighs were as you traced the image. The occasional flex of his muscles under your touches only added to the curiosity swirling in your mind. Probably a strict workout regime, played a sport or two in high school.

Your silent admiration for his body was short-lived as you zeroed your focus towards what would be the next few hours of work. Your foot prodded at the pedal, the subtle buzz of the machine overlapping with the music playing through the shop, with the occasional small talk sprinkled in.

It’s fine. Slight fidgeting is fine; you learned how to adjust to it after your years in the tattooing business. After all, it is a bunch of needles repeatedly piercing into the skin, what other reaction would you expect? However, Iwaizumi’s restlessness was constant, his breathing erractic, even when you’d pause to wipe the excess ink trailing on his skin. Every touch seemed to make his breath hitch and the muscle of his thigh become rigid. Occasional flexing became frequent fidgeting, to the point where even at your skill level, you didn’t want your work ruined by a slip of the hand.

“Are you sure you’re doin’ okay?” You asked as you lifted the tattooing gun off of his skin. You looked up at him, your concerned voice laced with a hint of frustration. “We can take a break if it’s hurting you too m-”

“No it’s fine, you can keep going,” Iwaizumi cut off your thoughts, his slightly choked out response catching you by surprise. He sounded out of breath, and his cheeks were flushed a deep shade.

Throughout the entire session up to this point, you had been mentally racking through the rolodex in your brain of common reactions to getting a tattoo — general nervousness, fear of needles, fear of pain. But this... seemed different. Could it be arousal? You couldn’t even be sure. And even if it was that, this surely is new territory for you.

Iwaizumi looked back at you for just a moment, but there was a dark glimmer in his eyes that was impossible to miss. Mixed with the blushing cheeks and shallow breathing, the gears finally began to move in your brain, and he knew it. His eyes screwed shut, hoping you’d hear his silent pleas to just continue with the session.

It felt so wrong to be right. There’s still a chance, though, that you jumped to conclusions too quickly, overanalyzed the look in his eyes. Yet you couldn’t even stop tourself as your eyes trailed down to the tent straining against his underwear. Your eyes widened at the sight, the heather gray fabric outlining his cock deliciously.

You definitely shouldn’t have stared for as long as you did.

What the fuck has gotten into you? You knew this was wrong, that you were a professional, and most importantly, you sure as hell weren’t proud of the feeling this was giving you. Your brain was telling you to stop, but the growing wet spot in your panties brought along a much more exciting version of how this night would end. You lifted your foot off the pedal, the buzzing of your machine coming to an abrupt stop and placing on the rolling tray beside you.

“I think you do need a break,” you said nonchalantly, peeling your black latex gloves off of your hands. You waited for a response, a sign of life in the man laid on the bench in front of you, keen on getting an answer from him even though you knew you’d never get it. All you got in return was a dumbfounded expression painted across Iwaizumi’s face.

The piercing of the needles that would otherwise make people nervous actually excited Iwaizumi, the adrenaline coursing through his veins from the pressure. It was something about the controlled pain, the sharp stung along his sensitive skin that had his blood rushing straight to his cock. But he was usually pretty good about keeping his composure while getting tattoos from other artists. This time was different though— a shoulder or back tattoo was much less intimate than this one, your pretty face just mere inches away from his dick. 

“[Y/N],” he whispered, slightly surprised that he was even able to utter your name. He held his breath, partially to preserve whatever air you didn’t knock out of his lungs from your previous words, partially out of anticipation for your next ones.

“Let me help you. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” you smirked, your eyes flickering briefly at his unfinished tattoo on his thigh and back up to his face. “Do you want me to help you?”

You looked up at him with such soft eyes, while you both knew damn well that innocence was not in the cards tonight. 

He nodded as he propped himself up on his forearms, and watching your hands ghosted over his cock. You lightly squeezed as you ran your hand up and down his length, smirking as Iwaizumi’s precum created a dark spot on his underwear.

He lifted his hips and you obliged to his request without even needing to hear it. You hooked your fingers on the elastic of his underwear, pulling down to free his throbbing cock.

Fuck, he was big.

You climbed onto the bench with him, straddling his legs. His cock was heavy in your hand, your fingertips barely touching as you wrapped your small hand around the base. You licked a long stripe up from Iwaizumi’s balls to the tip of his cock, your hot tongue making him clench his jaw, biting back a groan. You flicked your wrist, letting Iwaizumi’s cock hit your tongue, the lewd slapping noises making him whimper. You swirled your tongue along the head of his cock before taking his length into your mouth, stroking what you couldn’t fit in your hands. It felt like your jaw was going to snap from trying to fit his fat cock into your mouth.

Your hands were so small, your mouth was so soft and wet; it was such a stark difference from the intense prick of the needles on his skin just moments ago. It made Iwaizumi’s cock twitch knowing you could bring him so much pain and pleasure simultaneously. 

“Fuck yes, just like that, [Y/N], fuck,” Iwaizumi groaned, watching your pretty plump lips wrap around his shaft. 

You shallowly bobbed your head before coming all the way down to try and take his entire cock into your mouth. The sudden jolt of pleasure of you gagging made Iwaizumi buck his hips, pushing his cock farther down your throat than you thought you could even take it. Your lips reached the base of his cock, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

Iwaizumi repeatedly rammed his hips upwards, eager to feel you gag around his cock again. Tears were falling freely down your face, blurring your vision as you desparately gasped for air. Fuck, he was already so close.

However, as much as Iwaizumi wanted to shoot his hot load down your throat, he knew he wanted you to come all over his face even more. A soft tap on your shoulder had you quickly pulling away from Iwaizumi, coughing and catching your breath as you sat upright. You got up to remove your jeans and underwear as he removed his own shirt. Iwaizumi’s large hands immediately found purchase on your ass when you straddled him again.

“Sit on my face, please pretty girl,” Iwaizumi groaned, his hands still kneading the soft flesh of your hips and ass. He laid back against the bench once more, his eyes fixated on your pussy above him. You sat down, his tongue immediately flat against your folds to taste your juices. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking and drawing circles with his tongue, before pushing his tongue into your tight hole.

It was damn near impossible to keep yourself upright, Iwaizumi’s hot tongue pushing into you, his hands roaming all over your body, pushing your bra and shirt away to grab your breasts. You ripped off the remainder of your clothes as he rolled your sensitive nipples between his fingertips.

“Yes yes yes, Iwa, fuuuuck,” you whined, carding your fingers through his hair. The apex of his nose brushed against your clit and you rolled your hips against him, the vibrations of his moans against your cunt sending you over the edge.

Your thighs clamped around Iwaizumi’s head as you let out one last choked out moan, your spongy walls clenching around his tongue as you came.

You moved back to kneel above Iwaizumi’s hips, the fluorescent lights of the shop highlighting your juices all over his face.

“You still haven’t helped me out yet, [Y/N],” Iwaizumi smirked, stroking his cock. His other hand reached down to your cunt, pushing a finger into your sensitive hole. You sucked in a sharp breath as you barely came down from your first high, but before you could retort, Iwaizumi cut you off.

“You’re gonna need the prep, baby.” Although his voice was playful, you knew he meant it wholeheartedly, as you were reminded of the thick girth of his cock by the subtle ache of your jaw. Iwaizumi plunged another finger into you, making your thighs tremble.

You looked so fucking beautiful above him. Mascara running down your cheeks, mouth hanging open, moans echoing through the empty shop. He just couldn’t wait to stuff your tight little cunt full of his fat cock.

Iwaizumi pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch, spitting on his hand and pumping his length a few times as you caught your breath. He teased the swollen tip of his cock at your hole, groaning at how tight you were as you began to sink down around him.

You’ve never been stretched out like this before, hot tears resurfacing at the corners of your eyes. You gripped his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your nails digging into his soft skin. You let out a shaky sigh as your ass met his hips, nearly coming already from how his huge cock filled up every inch of your pussy.

He sat up, steadying himself with one hand behind him and the other at the back of your head, pulling you in to mold his lips to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. He moaned into the kiss as he felt you move your hips, slowly bouncing on his cock.

“[Y/N], baby, you’re so fucking-hnggg- tight,” Iwaizumi groaned against your mouth, his hot breath fanning across your face. You started to bounce on his cock at a faster pace, and with every loud slap of skin on skin, his cock brushed against the spongy spot inside of you, making you clench even more around his hard shaft.

You couldn’t even control all the moans falling from your lips, Iwaizumi’s cock now relentlessly hitting your g-spot as he rutted his hips up into you. Your cunt was sucking him in, feeling every vein on his cock drag along your tight walls.

As your mouth hung open, Iwaizumi pushed two fingers in and you wrapped your lips around them, eliciting another groan from him. He pulled his fingers out to bring them down to your aching clit, his rough fingertips rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves. Iwaizumi thought you couldn’t get any fucking tighter but as he toyed with your clit, your cunt spasmed around him even more.

“Iwa please-” you cried out, feeling another orgasm creep up in the pit of your stomach.

“Milk my cock while you cum for me baby, c’mon,” Iwaizumi groaned, your erratic clenching bringing him closer to his own release.

With one final thrust into you, you came with Iwaizumi’s cock bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of cum painting your cunt white. You both cried out for the other as you rode out your highs, your hands scratching red lines into his back.

You crawled off of Iwaizumi’s lap, his cum still leaking out of your pussy and onto the black leather of the bench.

“So,” Iwaizumi sighed, catching his breath but eager enough to not miss a beat, “When’s our next session?”

...

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