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thestrangestinthisstrangeland · 2 years

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As We Lay Dreaming - chapter 15

warnings: 18+ only (minors DNI) no triggers, just love, non explicit, heavily implied male receiving oral— from a goddess no less.

summary: Dream and Glory/Oshun are eager to confront Desire, but not before a proper detour through the dreamscape that is New York in the 70’s, and one another in this glam version of the waking world. First stop— the Chelsea Hotel.

AO3

masterlist

It is a reckless thing to involve humans in the affairs of the Endless; even immortals fare poorly in their presence. But two against one and the odds shift, typically towards favoring the wronged.

That is how Dream of the Endless and the Goddess Oshun came to find Desire.

After Glory kissed her children goodbye for the weekend and thanked Loretta for taking them in, she left the house behind and took to the skies.

It was her first flight and her first trip to a city she'd never dared to imagine before this.

From the moment she stepped outside the airport to the wild yellow cab ride over and under water, this place was all sights, sounds, and smells that overwhelmed both her true and godly selves.

She watched in awe as skyscrapers grew up from the horizon, peaking over the bridges she'd dreamt of the night before.

Dropped off on Eighth avenue, Glory gawked like a wide-eyed southern daisy at the women pushing strollers through the concrete maze. She smiled at the old men playing chess and how they ignored the chaotic laughter of a few boys throwing a basketball across the busy street.

Until today she'd only known the lazy heat of moss-covered trees, damp bayous, and dirt roads. These rivers of asphalt were sprinkled with grime, and no one seemed to care. It confused her to no end, but she could not stop smiling.

Reality was harsh in this place, but the energy of the people who made it home revealed its true beauty to her before she could make it to the next block.

There was no other place on earth like it, and with a few friendly directions from the locals, she reached the red and white awning of her hotel before she could manage to get lost.

"Hi there." A young man said on his way out. He took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke swirling from his nostrils as he held the door open. If someone asked what a poet in the wild might look like, she would have guessed him, with his tousled brown curls, a black sweater in defiance of the heat, old jeans and canvas shoes.

Glory flashed a reflexive smile-nod, and their eyes met.

He blinked a few times, sort of like she did after her first glimpse of the Empire State Building from the cab. "You're from the south!" He declared.

Glory paused, listening to the warning bells that went off, signaling her to stay away from strangers, especially curious white men in hotels "Yes?"

"Ha! I knew it!" He seemed so damned excited to have gotten it right. "I can tell. You're… not affected. That is to say, you haven't let the city grind you down yet."

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. It's not often I see Someone so green but so confident. It's rare— admirable? You're not going to fade away like the rest of us, kid. Plus, you might be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he sighed. "My wife would agree. Don't look too horrified. That's purely observational. I'm a writer. You think that's wild; just wait until you get inside."

"You harassing women again, Tom?"

Glory looked over to find a woman walking up, chic, cool— like the city had been designed around her.

"The wife I was just speaking of." He said with a flourish of the smoking hand.

"Greta." She said, reaching. They shook hands, and the tall blonde woman's cheeks flushed. "My my, you are unique." She said, looking Glory up and down like she couldn't decide if she was afraid or in love "well, you couldn't have picked a better place. Welcome to the Chelsea."

"Let us know if you need anything! Room 401!" Tom said as they turned to rush off.

Glory watched them go and wondered if everyone here would be as wonderfully strange.

Whether or not the people were, she could not say, but it was clear she was far from home.

This place was like a waking dream. She had to blink and shake her head to be sure she hadn't slipped under, what with this wild sometimes bizarre art of every form covering the walls, the female figure swinging from the ceiling and a wave of controlled chaos flooding her senses at every turn...

If Desire's earthly realm was out there, could Dream have made this place his?

Surely he had a few doors that opened directly to his chambers, she thought with a grin as she watched two young creatives arguing in the lobby. Over what, she couldn't say, but they had rocks glasses full of amber liquid and a passion for their project.

Once she’d gotten her key in hand, Glory headed for the elevator and eventually, someone was kind enough to get the damned thing to work.

Her room was small, simple— perfect.She'd never left her hometown and yet the young woman was discerning enough to know that there was somehting about these plain plaster walls that made them better than most.

Glory ran her fingers over the little desk under the window and thought of the stories she told her children every night. If she were to ever write them down and make a book, she could do it here in just a few days.

But not today.

Tossing the suitcase on the bed, she grabbed her little camera and headed back out, determined to see the things that could only be seen in daylight.

Letting herself be carried upstream with the rest of the city fish, she only broke free of the swell to walk through the parks and watch the pigeons and businessmen with briefcases.

When she accidentally found herself standing at the foot of the Brooklyn Bridge, she took a deep breath and kept going. Nothing like this had existed in her waking world until now and it was terrifying in such a fun way.

She stared at those thick cables arranged to hold her and the other tourist so many feet in the air as she walked. Yes, it was engineering and math and science, but there was magic in this city too. It was then that she decided, no matter what happened, she would find her way back to this island one day.

This visit was just a taste— she would have the full bite.

But first things first.

Back at the hotel, musicians and writers drank and smoked with the artists who inspired them. Everyone was interesting and interested in one another.

Glory fit right in, flitting about like a sliver of refracted light free of the wall. She radiated with the energy of Oshun all the way to her little room on the sixth floor.

Dinner was indulgently eaten in bed and finished with a small glass of red wine, where her old silk robe from home kept slipping from her shoulders. She felt like a true bohemian-- whatever that was.

Content but missing him horribly, she pushed plates and tray to the foot of the bed and curled up under the heavy quilt where her head shared a wall with rock stars and soul queens.

Aided by the food and wine, she calmed into sleep and rested easy in spite of the day's excitement. Her soft breathing giving no indication of what went on in her mind, where she formed a dream path for her man to the waking world.

Glory opened a doorway and stood at the edge of darkness carving her thoughts into steps of backlit ivory, calling out to him, "Come! This city is magic!"

Amused, the Shaper walked the halls of her black dreams that beat with the pulse of the island.

He stalked through rooms full of dream folk who reached for him with smiling faces. Their little bellhop hats were cocked to the side. Their taxi cab-scented Wall Street suits ill-fitting, though their offerings of birdseed and directions were heartfelt.

Her dreams moved to a rhythm that pushed him forward, past Broadway's dancing girls with pigeon wings and the kids chasing balloons, straight towards the glowing steps in the dark that led to the waiting door.

The sign above read EXIT, its letters flashing hot pink over and over again.

Morpheus smiled. Her mind was electric tonight.

If she were awake in this, Glory whose name was also Oshun would have made nightmares the likes of which he’d never seen.

Standing on her top stair, Dream tugged the collar of his leather jacket up and raked the thick waves of black hair from his eyes like he’d been born to this time.

Hands to the smoked glass of her gateway, he pushed the doors open and walked into the very real lobby of the Chelsea hotel.

An eruption of reality greeted him and woke her.

In the comfortable quiet of her hotel room, Dream stood back, watching as Glory closed her eyes, tipped her head back just a bit, and let her arms open to the sides.

If he were a mortal man, he might have asked many questions, but he was not, so he just waited and watched, admiring how the old ways worked their magic, and slowly, without leaving completely, Glory quietly stepped aside and let Oshun rise.

He was not one for showing emotion, but it was impossible not to be moved by the sight of her transformation. It was very much like seeing the one he loves curl down into sleep while the one he would have loved since the dawn of her time walk up and out of water, naked as the day Yemaja made her.

Smoothing her hands over her tight curls, she opened her eyes and looked at him, curious for a moment until recognition flushed across her brown cheeks. She smiled at the lord of Dreams, as sweet as raw honey before stumbling back.

"No, no." Oshun held up a hand as she found her footing, "I'm alright."

"What do you feel?" He asked, still ready to spring into action.

She rubbed her head a little, moaning with an ache. "I feel the room spinning. I feel the world spinning." She pressed her fingers to her temples. "I have been sharing my thoughts and my emotions with myself, and I have so many of them," Oshun said with a pained laugh, shrugging it off anyway.

He settled and even allowed himself to raise the corner of his mouth with a smile. Country girl or goddess, she still had the same sense of humor.

"Well Morpheus, where exactly are we going? It's still a little…." She waved her hand in the air, eyes shut tight.

"Into the heart of Desire." He answered, watching her closely.

Oshun opened one eye and then the other. "Here? Among humanity?"

"There is no better place."

She smiled understanding his meaning well, but noted that for one so reserved, poor Morpheus was not so good at hiding his own wants and needs. This was not new. She was still herself, but seeing him through the gaze of Oshun gave her a different perspective.

Glory often thought her naked curves were a distraction. Oshun confidently drew his attention down over her peaks and valleys with a coy laugh taunting him like she found her ability to reduce the Endless to something resembling a man, endearing.

Dream could not care less; he was transfixed.

Stepping close, he grazed the back of his fingers up her belly and between her breast. "We go to my sibling's earthly realm." His voice was light enough to make her shiver. She watched his lips when he spoke, "A place called Studio 54." Pale like the rest of him but as full and soft as they were a small taste of his dominance and virility. Dream stroked up along her neck and tickled her jaw with his thumb drawing her in, "Did they touch you?" He asked.

She looked into the stars. "Desire?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Not even like this?" He asked and just barely brushed her lips with his finger. Oshun closed her eyes and shook her head no. She leaned in, wanting very badly to kiss him, but the deep somewhat condescending laugh that rumbled in his chest— like the sound one makes when catching a petty thief red handed— made her stop.

Oshun pulled back, guessing his game. She clicked her tongue to show her playful distaste, "You're testing me to see if I can resist, but I passed this test already." She told him poking her finger to his chest.

Bested easily by a woman he had no wish to press or upset, Dream bowed his head and looked over his shoulder towards the window. "Do not remind me."

Oshun sighed long and slow.

Men.

Her hand, gentle and warm, cradled his chin, turning his head back around to face her. "Dream Lord," she said his title and name with such affection he could hardly tell that she was scolding him. "The only one who will be reminded is your little sibling.”

"Reminded of what exactly?" He asked, still scowling.

"That the only thing they should do in the presence of royalty, is kneel."

He stared down at her for a few seconds which was all it took for Dream to lose interest in discussing his annoying kin. Even knowing that Desire would love to see him give into these base needs could not keep him focused.

Dream reached to feel the soft warmth of Oshun’s stomach. Smooth and familiar, he liked most how her belly rounded beneath her navel. Softer still was the velvet skin the further his hand went. He liked this most of all."Is that why you are still naked?"

She gasped, melting down onto his hand.

Forcing herself to keep her eyes open, she raised her brow, "It does make it easier." She smiled, biting her lip in reply to his touch and implication, "And, I like you on your knees as much as I like the idea of being your Queen. But, I think it's you who needs to be reminded King of nightmares," she sighed, her own hands gripping his arms under the leather jacket, "and dreams."

"And you wish to remind me?"

"I do." She told him, licking her lips a little.

She didn't need to say more. He just slowly took his hand away, and watched as Oshun turned the tides but paused before going to her knees. "Studio 54? Glory, she— we— looked at this place in a magazine. I wonder, Should I even bother putting anything on?" She teased and laughed, trailing her fingers over his forearms, letting him catch her hands to help her down.

Dream watched the woman goddess move in her deliberate way. Her actions were slow enough to distract him from what would happen once they left this room, but not so much as to torture him.

His human form tensed at her delicate touch as quickly as he relaxed into the feel of her playful smile wrapping tight around him.

Should I even bother to put something on… Dream held in one of many possible responses to what she'd said. The short answer was, who cares. Oshun could cover herself in the black void of space and nothing could hide what the stars had given her.

He let his head drop back just a little as he exhaled her name, his long fingers finding the soft coils of her hair. With his hand on the back of her head, he held her firm but ever-respectful, and she clung to his cool thighs that flexed hard as marble while she hummed sweet, deep approval.

For a little while, he did just that. He stopped caring why he'd climbed the steps and opened the door.

For a little while, when Dream closed his eyes and the neon exit flashed hot pink behind them, it wasn't a score to settle or threats to be made that brought him here. It was her.

He drew a sharp breath and dropped his chin to watch.

He was ancient. Born of mother Night.

Alive since the first being dreamed.

And still this— he smoothed his hand over her curls— The wet heat, the sound, the vulgar intimacy that made him forget he does not like to smile was all it took to calm him.

He heard his own voice moaning pleasure as a call and response, a back and forth between them.

Her gentle encouragement spurred his increasing need to give and take in reply to her quiet answer vibrating to his core. On and on, a cycle that would unfortunately end, but not yet…

Dream stared down at Oshun, the stars neither growing bright nor dim; they simply fixed on their point, unable to deny his true reason for coming to the waking world. Everything he did was for the woman on her knees who called him king. He would drape planets around her neck on silken cords that would shame sapphires. He would place strands of sunlight in the black coils of her hair and crush any who dared to threaten her. They came into his house. Into her room!

How dare they. How Dare they…

Oshun's groan turned to laughter as she pulled away, "Hush. I can hear you thinking. I can… feel you thinking." She said, sitting back on her heels."

Dream looked down—every muscle flexed tight. "No?" He frowned, breathing heavily.

"No” she grinned “But I do not need to be Endless to hear that mind of yours— on and on." She said, rolling her eyes that sparkled with love. "Confronting family? That is for thinking. Enjoying this, "she smiled and shrugged, "that is for a silent, happy mind to make room for pleasure. Now—"she went up onto her knees. "Quiet, and be thankful for me. Today was good. This moment is better. But we do not know what the night will bring"

Mortal, immortal, it makes no difference. When the one you love tells you to shut your mouth so that she can open hers, you'd be a fool not to listen.

Morpheus, the Prince of Stories and King of the Dreaming, did as he was told.

#the sandman 2022 #the sandman comics #dream of the endless/ original female character #the sandman fanfic #sandmancentral #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless/female character of color #oshungoddess #oshun #Oshun fanfic #gods and goddesses #black goddess #black girls have feelings too #soft black girls #desire of the endless #shut up and kiss me

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nifolution · 2 years

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Baby Blues 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Reader

Summary: Bucky and his wife have been trying for a baby. Will they get their wish or will it all fall apart? Will there be too much deception, pain and anger to make it work?

Warnings: Angst, smut, fluff, infertility, heartbreak, cheating, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, harassment, pregnancy, argument, therapy, making up

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is written in 3rd person. 18+ only due to smut and noncon/dubcon situations. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 7 Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 8

It was the end of the third month when Y/N and Bucky had to tackle another problem. Being intimate again proved to be a challenge. The few times they tried having sex there was a lot of starting and stopping and apologies and tears. Too many tears, it wasn't healthy. Their therapist gave them advice on how to overcome their fear and doubts in the bedroom. Maintaining eye contact was important, positions like missionary and cowgirl were recommended. This would help build a stronger feeling of love and trust in those vulnerable moments. The most important thing was to have a safe word for when it became too much for either of them. And given the unique nature of where their issues stemmed from, a password to use if they ever had any uncertainty about what they were doing and with whom.

The couple sat back to back on their bed, doing the breathing exercise they picked out of the therapy jar. Clad only in underwear, cross legged, their naked backs pressed together, breathing in sync. The purpose was to get familiar with each other's skin in a less frightening way.

Bucky turned his body to weave his arms around Y/N, head resting on her shoulder. “I hate this, I want to hold you properly.” He squeezed her to him and began peppering her neck with kisses.

Y/N squirmed away from him, his feather light affections tickled her. “Let’s try another one.”

“Mmm, should I fill the bath?”

She reached into the jar and pulled out another paper. “Nope, soul gazing...” She watched him pout before she continued. “...in underwear or nude.”

He brightened at that. “Well, we’re already dressed for it.”

They sat with their legs crisscrossed like before, only now facing one other with their knees touching, staring intensely into each other's eyes. After only a few seconds, Y/N noticed her husband’s gaze kept drifting down. “My eyes are up here, Buck.”

His blue orbs jumped back to hers. “Uh, um, right.” Immediately they slid down again.

“Bucky!”

His eyebrows shot up, “What?” A devious grin plastered on his face. “Come on, how can I not look? My gorgeous wife is half naked in front of me, it's distracting...” he licked his lips “...and tempting.” She turned her head away, biting her lip, suddenly feeling shy. “The last time I had to do this was with Sam, and the view wasn’t nearly as interesting.” Y/N’s focus snapped back to him. The incredulous look on her face had him quickly blurting out, “Fully clothed. We were fully clothed.”

His attempt to clarify had Y/N cracking up, falling back on the bed holding her sides. “Well you were the one leaving dirty drawings on his yogurt, so…” she cackled.

“St-stop laughing," he barely suppressed a smile. "Stop laughing,'' he tried again, his resolve breaking as he gave into the infectious sound. Bucky reached down to pull her up onto his lap, wrapping her legs around him. His chest now flush with hers, he brushed the hair away from her face, not breaking contact with the beautiful bright eyes he fell so deeply for.

Y/N locked her arms behind her husband's neck, trying to catch her breath. She could feel him hot and hard beneath her. She rolled her hips, making them both moan. She repeated the motion, kissing him long and deep. Her hands moved to his scalp gently pulling his hair as their tongues danced.

He growled into her mouth as she tugged again. Bucky grabbed her hands and pressed his lips to the inside of each wrist, before placing them on his chest. “Touch me, please.” The sudden low and husky tone of his voice made her tremble and clench. He held her lower back so she wouldn't fall.

Her fingers trailed down his torso, caressing every inch of skin. Y/N moved herself back a smidge so she could slip a hand under his waistband and grip his rigid length. He shuddered as she began to stroke him. Encouraged, she slid both hands behind to grab his firm butt and drag her nails across his cheeks, sending a jolt through his body. Y/N then lowered his briefs to allow his cock to spring free. Staring in his eyes as she licked her hand and resumed pumping him.

Bucky whined, "Fuck, Y/N." He lifted her up by her rear to reposition himself onto his knees. He lowered her onto the bed and hooked his fingers under her panties. He paused, suddenly looking unsure.

She propped herself up to whisper the password in his ear.

He smiled, pulling the damp garment down her legs, throwing it across the room along with his own. Bucky lowered his face to nip playfully at her thighs before diving to her core. Holding her legs still on the side of his head as his mouth devoured her. Licking and sucking her folds, teasing her entrance with his tongue before dragging it up to swirl around her sensitive bundle of nerves. She cried out when he latched onto it and hummed as he suckled.

Squeezing her breasts as she mewled and panted above him, Y/N closed her eyes and bit her lip as the euphoric sensations flowed through her body.

Bucky stopped, "You know the rules, don’t close your eyes, Honey. Keep them on me."

How was she supposed to do that when her eyes kept rolling back with every swipe of his talented tongue. "Please, Baby, I need you up here." He obliged, maintaining intense eye contact as he crawled up her body, stopping to suck a nipple, before attacking her mouth.

Y/N reached down between them to help line him up. She hissed at the burn as he slowly pushed inside her.

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, it's just been awhile. Go slow, okay?"

He agreed before fully sheathing himself. "You feel too fucking good, Honey. I'm not gonna last long."

"Just make love to me. Please, Bucky, I need you." She felt him pull almost all the way out before sliding back in. Y/N held him, hooking her legs around his hips as he rocked into her. The leisurely pace allowed her to feel every inch of his thick cock as it dragged through her channel. She moved her hips, meeting his thrusts. Drunk on pleasure, she kissed and sucked on his throat and any place she could reach, always resuming eye contact for reassurance.

Bucky gradually increased the tempo until he was pounding into her. She desperately grabbed at his body as he pleasured hers. He pressed his forehead on hers, "Fuck, Y/N, I'm close. Can I?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes. I want it." Y/N furiously rubbed her clit to catch up, on the precipice of her own orgasm. When she fell over the edge, her walls clamping down on him, he groaned and finished inside her.

Sweat and breath mingling, she held him still, not ready to separate as they both came down. He lifted his head to see her better. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip, entirely enchanted, completely his. "I love you, Bucky."

He lazily smiled at her. "I love you, Y/N, so, so much." He kissed all over her face, teasing as she kept trying to capture his lips. When she whined in frustration, he chucked and kissed her properly. "Ready for round two?" She nodded enthusiastically. Grateful to finally be able to give themselves to each other in a fit of giggles and kisses... no more tears.

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It was the beginning of month four when Tony approached Y/N at work. "Always working hard. I'd say you need a break."

"Hey Ton… Wh-where are your eyebrows?"

The billionaire pursed his lips, "Let's not talk about that, let's talk about you. How are you and the tin can doing?"

Y/N smiled, "Better. A lot better... Really good actually."

He caught her meaning. "Eww, wonderful for you though. This won't go to waste then." He handed her an envelope.

"What is this?"

"Consider it an apology that Natasha strong armed me into. Her and I spearheaded the 'make Barnes life a living hell campaign,' so this is us trying to make up for it. Plus she tells me your anniversary is around the corner."

Y/N opened the envelope to see what was inside, her mouth hung open. At a loss for words.

"It's all paid for. And Romanoff booked some fun activities for you both. Snorkeling, assuming your husband won't rust, that is. Couples massage on the beach, et cetera, et cetera."

She could feel her eyes water, "Tony, this is too much."

"So you’re giving it back?" He halfheartedly attempted to grab it from her.

"Hell no!" Y/N stood up and hugged him before he could object. "Thank you, Tony."

"Anytime, kid."

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After spending most nights back at home, only going to Natasha's for a change of clothes, Y/N decided it was time to move back. It's been too hard being apart. Her and Bucky agreed to keep going to therapy and make it work. Willing to do whatever it took to continue to move past the ordeal. He was still hers and she was still his. They belonged together.

Y/N looked forward to their vacation. Time for just her and her husband, far away from everything. She came to realize the stress was breaking them before that witch bitch was ever in the picture. Y/N knew that was her fault, Bucky never pressured her. She was the one burning the candle at both ends. Working around the clock, and jumping through hoops to get pregnant. She became obsessed with having a baby, while he was happy with just her. She was enough for him.

They were taking a walk through the park, holding hands. One of their last papers from the jar. Y/N gulped before breaching the topic on her mind. "I think I want to try again for a baby. You want a family, and I want to give that to you. We should try again. I'm ready, and.. and I hope you are too."

Bucky stopped moving and stared at her. His wife's words caught him by surprise. The idea made him nervous. He didn't want that pressure on them again, afraid to cause a rift in their freshly healed marriage. "It was never just me wanting a family, Y/N. It was me wanting a family with you. There's a big difference. If having kids means losing you, then it's not worth it. I need you, Honey, you're my family first."

His words washed over her, making her feel lighter. It only made her more confident in her decision. "You won't lose me, Bucky. It feels different this time. I really think it's going to take. No stress, no doctors, no medication, just us. Please say yes."

He smiled at her hopeful face. He felt it too. "I can't say no to you, but you have to promise me something first."

"Anything."

"That we'll also look into adoption... I was afraid to bring it up before because we were trying so hard. You were already going through so much," he exhaled, "but I feel that's our next step. Whether adopted or biological, they'll still be our kids, our family. That's all I want."

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Their anniversary arrived, Bucky planned a surprise date at home for Y/N. Steve came over to help him get the house ready. Yesterday they finished painting the bedroom, after patching up the holes in the wall. He hoped she liked it.

Steve watched Bucky spread the tablecloth, putting candles and flowers on top. He assisted in decorating the main rooms and the bedroom for the occasion. Scattering rose petals, hanging fairy lights and lighting scented candles. Bucky had a few bottles of Y/N's favorite wine ready, as well as a gourmet dinner and desserts. Steve smiled as his friend fussed, making sure each spot looked and smelled just right. "You're worrying too much. She's going to love all this… You guys look good, you look happy again."

Bucky smiled, "We are." His face fell as he looked at Steve. "I came so close to losing her… I did lose her for a while there. I had never been more scared in my life. I don't know how to live without her, and I never want to." Taking a deep breath, he resumed making the final touches. "That's all behind us now. Therapy, as much as we hated it most days, helped us. It was a difficult journey, rebuilding trust and forgiving, but she stuck with me… I think I love her even more now, if that's possible."

Steve gave Bucky a giant hug, "I'm sure she feels the same. I'm happy for you, Buck. You and Y/N were made for each other."

---------------

Y/N scrambled around, packing the last of her things. She was moving back home tonight. Their anniversary seemed like the perfect time to do it. Then tomorrow, they were flying first class to Saint Lucia.

She was giddy, especially knowing she was ovulating. Maybe tonight would be the magic night. They’d have a relaxing evening at home and put all the nastiness behind them for good. And maybe soon, they'd have a little blessing to celebrate.

If it didn't happen and they adopted, Y/N knew she'd love the child with all her heart. She would be the best mommy she could, and Bucky would be a wonderful father. Their home and hearts would be full. She could see the future so clearly. The stars were finally aligning for them.

As she loaded the boxes in her car, her gut told her to buy a test on her way home, just in case. Y/N wiped her forehead, wishing Nat was there to help. But her former roommate and Tony finally got a lead that they were hunting down. Natasha declared the witch would be returned bound, bloody and wishing she was dead. If she made it back alive at all after The Black Widow dealt with her. Y/N prayed they caught her. That evil witch hurt her husband and nearly tore them apart. She needed to pay for what she did, dearly. If Y/N ever saw her again, she’d kill her herself.

"Y/N Barnes?"

Y/N turned to the voice. It was a delivery man. "Yes, that's me." He handed her an envelope, the return address was from the compound. It looked like Tony had more to gift her. Maybe he purchased an additional perk to spice up their trip. That man was so generous when he wanted to be.

She ripped it open and stuck her hand in to grab what lay inside. Her fingers tingled, becoming cold as ice. A sudden feeling of dread and hopelessness overwhelmed her as she pulled out the contents.

Y/N stared at the item grasped in her shaking hands, she couldn't breathe. It was a sonogram photo with a simple message written on it, 'I can give him what you can't.'

It felt like a dark fog surrounded her, her thoughts frantic, she needed to run away. She couldn't bear knowing that devil woman was having her husband's baby. A baby she couldn't give him. Leaving was the only option. She'd quit her job, and move away. Let Bucky have the family he desired, the one he deserved.

Y/N pressed her husband's contact, putting the phone to her ear as she counted the rings. He picked up on the third.

"Hey, Honey. Are you on your way?"

She tried to keep her voice steady. "I'm not coming home, Bucky."

"Wh-what do you mean?" He began breathing heavily through his nose when she didn't respond. "Y/N, what do you mean by that?"

Between sobs she croaked out an answer, "I tried. I really tried, but I can't do this anymore."

"No…" his voice quaked. "No, we love each other, we can get through this, Honey. We’ve come so far already…"

"It's not enough."

Bucky felt his life, his future, crack and crumble as he desperately clawed at it with unsteady hands. This could not be happening. He refused to let it happen. "Y/N, please don't do this. Just give it more time, okay. We can go to more therapy sessions. We'll go three times a week, every day if we need to. Anything you need, I'll do it. Just tell me what I need to do."

Y/N could barely get the words out. Her heart was being torn wide open listening to him beg. Picturing the hurt and confusion on his face, knowing she could do nothing to save him. "It won't help."

"Please don't give up on me." His tears spilled over as he gripped the phone tight enough to break it.

"I'm not giving up on you, I'm giving up on me." She knew he could hear her crying, just as she could hear him, but she had to do this. "I'll never stop loving you, Bucky. I'm so sorry. So incredibly sorry. Please try to be happy. You deserve the world."

Bucky's whole body felt numb. "How can I be happy without you? Don't go, don't leave me… You promised."

"I'm sorry." She quickly hung up. It felt like dying. Y/N didn't know where she was going, but she had to go. And she had to go now. Something terrible would happen if she didn't. This was for the best.

---------------

Bucky threw his phone and screamed, completely devastated. His heart died right there in his chest. How was he still breathing? Y/N was gone.

A part of him wanted to be mad, but how could he when he cheated? He didn't know he was, but he still did it. He was unfaithful to her all the same. If the roles were reversed, he's not sure what he'd do. He ruined everything. The love of his life left him and there was nothing he could do to bring her back.

Bucky looked down at his suit, ripping the tie off. He moved around the house, blowing out the candles, tearing down the lights, collecting the flowers and petals. He crushed it all in his hands before throwing it in the trash. He should throw himself in too, it's where he belonged.

He thought he imagined it at first, until he heard it again, knocking. Bucky ran to the front door. It was Y/N, she changed her mind, she had to. She wouldn't leave him. Not after everything. She promised him. He whipped the door open, "Honey?!"

It wasn't his wife. "What the fuck are you doing here? Leave now!"

"That's no way to speak to a lover." Tanya grinned as she walked into the house, attempting to wrap her arms around his neck. "Don't be shy. She's gone now, we can be together, no more sneaking around."

Bucky shoved her away, "Get the hell offa me. What did you do?"

Tanya was getting pissed. "Stop acting like you don't want me. There's no one stopping us now. We can make our love official."

He's beyond furious. "I've never wanted you. Not now, not ever. Where is Y/N?"

She ignored his question. "Oh please, I've seen the way you look at me. The secret eye fucking from across the gym. All the extra time you spent training me. How you clearly wanted to tear my clothes off while sparing. You can't deny the chemistry between us, the heat. And let's not pretend this isn't the best pussy you've ever had. Your wife can't satisfy you like I can. She can't compare to my love."

"You tricked me, manipulated me. I never would have touched you had I known. What you did wasn’t love, it was rape."

Tanya laughed, "Give me a break, you enjoyed every minute. Hell, you initiated most of it. It wasn't hard to convince you I was her because you wanted me just as bad. My methods were just a way to assuage your guilt. Deep down, you knew it was me and you fucked me harder for it. You should be thanking me."

"You are out of your goddamn mind."

"Enough games. You better accept reality and love me. And if you refuse, I'll simply MAKE you."

In a blink, Bucky grabbed her neck with his metal hand. "I will never touch you again." He should squeeze the life out of her. She deserved it, it would be easy, but she had information he needed. What happened to Y/N?

Tanya smiled as he loosened his hold. "You will. You won't be able to help yourself." She ran her fingers over the metal appendage. Bucky backed away in disgust. It didn't deter her. "You need to love me, Bucky, especially because we're a family now." She rubbed her swollen stomach, beaming at him. "I can't wait, in a few months, we're having a baby. You're going to be a daddy, isn't that exciting?"

His blood froze. "No, no, no, no, no, no. You can't be pregnant. I don't want a baby with you, I want one with my wife. I love Y/N, not you." This was a nightmare, it had to be. Bucky closed his eyes tight, hitting his head repeatedly with both fists. "Wake up, please wake up." He was hyperventilating. "It's going to be okay, it's gonna be fine. I'm going to open my eyes and be laying next to my wife."

Tanya's acidic laugh rang in his ears. "Oh, Honey, you need to forget about that infertile cow. I've given you a gift. You have a real family now. You'll see how happy we can be together, just the three of us."

The End

A/N: Death to the witch??? Save Bucky.

Alternate Ending

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff

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glenncoco4 · 4 years

Text

Meant to Be

Chapter 15

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She lets out a sigh when she finally steps through the door, the weight of today still heavy on her shoulders. Kicking off her shoes, she makes her way into the living room looking around for her family.

“Hey, baby. How was your day?” He’s grading some papers at the coffee table when he hears her walk in.

“It was okay. Where’s Chloe?”

“Your dad picked her up at noon today. They’re suppose to go to the game tonight, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

He’s startled when he looks up and sees the lost look in her perfect mismatched eyes. “Kens, what’s wrong?”

She can’t move, stuck in the doorway. When her eyes lock with his concerned cerulean blues, she can’t hold back the tears that have been threatening to spill all day any longer.

The teacher bolts up off the couch, and runs over to her. “No, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.” He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in as close as he possibly can. “What’s wrong?”

Her arms immediately wrap around his waist, his strong arms are like a safety net for her soul. She grabs a fist full of his shirt, holding onto him unable to get close enough.

“Hey, talk to me.”

She slowly begins to relax in his arms, her head resting against his chest. “It’s just that I’ve been going through a lot at work.”

“Like what?”

“I had to fire one of my trainers today because he’s been harassing the other female trainers and we had to file police reports for each of the girls.”

He guides her towards the couch, pulling her onto his lap. She doesn’t fight, because why would she. Her body responds without question, she curls into his body as he shields her from all the wickedness that this world brings.

“Kens, I’m so sorry.” The blonde places a kiss to the crown of her head, a sense of relief washing over him at the fact that she confides in him but there’s also a sense of indignation that this life has been brought to his soon to be wife.

“And…”

“And what, baby? You can tell me.”

“I’m just having a really bad mental health day.”

“I know just the cure.” He moves her over to the unoccupied part of the couch and gets up but not before placing a sweet kiss to her lips. “Wait right here.”

She watches as he walks off towards their bedroom and sighs. Leaning back against the couch she tries to relax but it’s not working. Every thought possible is swarming around in her mind. She’s so focused on trying to relax that she doesn’t hear him comeback into the room until he threads his arm under her knees and the other around her back.

He lifts her up and walks back towards their bedroom. Mission make Kens feel better is a go.

“What are you doing?” She studies his facial features as he guides them through the hallway and into their room.

His eyes land on hers as he steps into the doorway of the dimly lit bathroom and gives her a shy smile. “Taking care of my girl.”

She’s so focused on him that she doesn’t even notice where they are until he stops. Her eyes take a survey of the room and her voice leaves her, well all but one soft spoken word. “Marty.” She watches the flicker of the lit candles and the tub full of bubbles. Bringing her hand up to his scruff covered jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek in soft soothing motions. “I love you.”

“And I’m so in love with you.” He leans down, bringing his lips to hers.

The trainer’s tears continue to fall from her eyes as he puts her down and slowly begins to undress her, placing kisses on her bare skin as he removes each article of clothing. Once she’s fully naked, he picks her up once again and walks over to the tub.

He slowly immerses her into the warm water making the tension in her body wash away. Marty bends down and places a kiss to the crown of her head, whispering the most soothing words she’s heard all day. “I’ll always take care of you, baby.”

Her eyes follow his form as he sends her one last smile and walks out of the bathroom. Yeah, he’s a keeper.

XXXX

She’s sitting on the couch watching as Rose hocks a loogie and spits into the open sea, her whole body is now more relaxed thanks to the amazing man that is her fiancée. He so good to her, no matter what she’s going through he always takes care of her and she knows deep down in her heart that he always will. After she got out of her bath he put on her favorite movie for her and told her to go relax on the couch before heading off to get their dinner and ice cream.

Realizing that he’s been gone for close to an hour now she starts getting worried. The restaurant is just 10 minutes away and their favorite ice cream shop is right next to it. She’s just about to call him when there’s a knock at the door. Her brow furrows. She’s not expecting anybody but maybe Marty just forgot his key.

She opens the door and her eyes go wide at the sight before her. Marty’s standing at the door and behind him in their driveway is a blue ’69 Camaro Z28. “Babe, what are you doing? Whose car is that?”

“Well….”

“What did you do?”

“Kens, just get in your car. We have somewhere to be.” He steps inside and takes her jacket off the coat rack, locks the door and ushers her out of the house.

“Where are we going? I can’t go out looking like this. Marty, I’m wearing joggers and one of your old t-shirts. Wait, did you say my car?”

He takes her hand and pulls her along until they reach the driver side door. Reaching into his pocket he takes out the keys and places them in her hand. “You look beautiful and yes I said your car.”

XXXX

His eyes are locked on the screen in front of him, but he knows her eyes are locked on him. “Why are you staring at me?”

An affectionate smile spreads to her lips as she climbs from the driver seat over the console to sit in his lap. She wraps one arm around his shoulder, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He tilts his head. leaning it against hers. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I am now thanks to you. But you really didn’t have to get me a car. I felt better just by being with you.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been imagining giving you this car ever since you told me that story of when you were a kid and how you and your parents would drive down the PCH on road trips.”

She brings her lips to his for a sweet kiss. Her heart flutters at the fact that he actually remembers stuff about her because she’s never had that before.

“Happy Anniversary.”

“It’s not the best of anniversaries thanks to me.”

“Hey, it’s the most amazing anniversary ever.”

“No, it’s not. I’m a terrible person. God what’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, don’t insult my wife.”

“Wife? I’m not your wife yet, buddy.”

He cups her jaw, tilting her head up so that she can see the truth in his eyes. “Take a look at that ring on your finger. You’re as good as mine, Blye.”

She’s taken back by the truth and confidence in his voice. The absolution in his cerulean blues makes her feel more loved than she’s ever known. A blush rises to her cheeks at the possessiveness he has over her. She’s his.

Marty gets a look in his eyes and maneuvers his arms, bringing his hands to her face. A smiles spreads to his lips as he playfully squishes her face. “Why are you so cute?”

Kensi can’t help but giggle or what’s suppose to sound like a giggle. “Just lucky I guess!”

They continues to stare at one another before she leans forward, bringing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. Her tongue swipes across his lip asking for entrance and is immediately granted access.

“Do you not want to watch the movie?”

“Lets see, watch a movie that I’ve already seen 20 times or make out with a teacher in the backseat of a car? Decisions. Decisions.”

Before he can respond, she gets out of his lap and crawls into the backseat, pulling him with her. She didn’t realize how small the backseat was until they’re sitting back there, but they don’t mind.

He sees the lustful look in her eyes and watches as she bites her lip. California is known for its cool nights but boy is it heating up in here.

“You think we can give Jack and Rose a run for their money?”

Marty takes hold of her arm and pulls her towards him, pressing their bodies together and leaves no room for doubt.

XXXX

They’ve finally made it home after grabbing dinner at the pier and taking a walk along the beach. Yeah, it might’ve not been what they were planning on doing for their anniversary but it did turn out even better.

Kicking off their shoes at the front door they make their way into the kitchen to put away the groceries. Call them crazy but one of their favorite things to do together is shop.

He puts on some music and they begin shuffling around the room to put the food away. As she places the last item in the freezer, she feels two strong arms wrap around her and begin to move them to the rhythm of the song.

When time is up and the sun it dies

Do the rivers flood and the ocean dries

Hand in hand under the falling sky

I will love you

When I'm oh so old and I lose my mind

I'll still look at you like it's the first time

So many say it and it's all a lie

But I will love you

She turns around in his arms, her head immediately finding rest on his shoulder as they sway back and forth. As the lyrics wash over her she can’t help but think of that saying that when you fall in love all the words to those cheesy love song start making sense. Boy do they.

You are the reason I make it through the day

You gimme the reason to let on my ways

The beauty goes, the money spent

And everything else fades away

You are my constant

He take a deep breath, inhaling the scent that’s so uniquely Kensi Marie Blye and he’s at peace. The fact that he’s found a woman….the most amazing woman and she’s here in his arms loving him is the best feeling in his entire life. “I want this to never end.”

She smiles, her arms squeezing his waist tighter to let him know that she feels the same way. Then it hits her. “What do you think about a wedding next weekend?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Once again thank you, Frank Military.

The Vow by Ruthanne

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #AU #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Meant to Be #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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theowlandthekey · 5 years

Text

We Don’t Need Covens: In This Essay I Will...

I'm a big fan of Sarah Anne Lawless. I never got the opportunity to speak with her personally, but for those of you who've been around long enough, you likely know about her blog discussing traditional witchcraft and her shop. I often found her posts to be inspirational, providing a unique clarity on subjects that most books skip over. To this day her belladonna ointment is one of the few things that can make my wife's back spasms stop.

Unfortunately both her blog and her shop have closed up. All I can find are interviews with her. In a very broad sense, Lawless came out about abuse and manipulation within the pagan community. She named names and instead of addressing the problems and having an open discussion about it, she was harassed until she backed off.

It upset me at the time in a very distant sense. As I said I never knew her, but I admired her passion and the certainty with which she practiced her craft. Though it's now long after the fact, I finally think I have the ability to put my thoughts into words.

We don't need covens. We never did.

I've been practicing off and on for about fifteen years or so. I've played around with different methods of witchcraft, wicca, and pagan worship. I've been the member of a druid grove, a loose coven association, and even a few on-line groups that claim to do all their spell casting via chat. In the end, I've found them all to be much the same. They promise a great deal and frankly fall short of everything from education to community.

I'm likely going to upset quite a few people with this statement. That's fine. You shouldn't trust anybody who thinks they can tell you your business. But for what it's worth, take a moment to read this over. If something here strikes you as familiar, it might be time to consider another path.

IQuick Note: I know there is a lot of grey area as to what could be considered a witch. You have pagans, heathens, wiccans and the like. Some are comfortable being called witches while others are not. But the connotation changes depending upon each individuals definition. So let's look at witches as people who, for whatever reason, have decided to intentionally avoid Christianity in favor of practicing a personal path of self-realization and independence involving magic, spells, enchantments and the like.

Cult Mentality

First thing you ought to consider is the potential for manipulation and control that exists in any group. This is especially true whenever matters of religion and faith are concerned. It's a touchy subject, no doubt. People are particular about religious practices. For my part, I maintain that witchcraft isn't a religion or a faith. It's a craft. But that doesn't change the fact that people will use religion as a method for controlling others. Especially others who are hungry to fit in with a group that they feel represents them. For this very reason, I firmly believe that witches should avoid becoming a congregation of any kind. Too many of us think of witchcraft as a religion, and while you can play pretend all you like most of us were raised Christian and still have difficulty shaking off the mimicry of organized religion. Our power is in our independence and our ability to think for ourselves, and it becomes much more difficult to do this when you form yourselves into a coven.

Respect My Authority

On that note, you can't form a group without some kind of a hierarchy making itself apparent. I have a strong distaste for covens who create arbitrary titles. They're largely meaningless. You don't really need a high priestess or an archdruid to go around wearing robes with more trim than everybody else. It's just an excuse for someone to hold themselves higher and make decisions without consulting anyone. You'll often find that people who hold these kinds of titles become very upset when someone disagrees with them and find ways to flex their authority in a 'funny' or 'joking' way. Basically telling others that if you disagree with them then you don't need to be there. This comes off especially hard on people who may be new to the craft and are still seeking approval.

Calling Ourselves Out

As sexual abuse allegations are on the rise, we have a duty to be aware of people within our community who put others in danger. We have heard it said that 'while not all priests are abusers, abusers tend to gravitate towards positions of authority'. This is no less true just because those leaders are witches and not priests. You don't get a Free Pass. Covens and groves all seem to want that central authority figure to which they can turn to. We tend to protect them because these people act as a spokesperson for us as a whole. But this does not mean they should be protected if they behave reprehensibly! They are not above the law and if we really want to present ourselves as being different from Christians, we should take a stance of pushing out people who are abusers and manipulators.

But here's the thing. We seem to have this self-righteous indignation that comes with being witches and pagans. Any questioning or perceived threats, especially ones that come from outside the community, are deemed as being biased because of Christian society. While this isn't entirely untrue, it also has a problematic effect on us wearing a permanent set of rose-tinted glasses whenever we look at the pagan community and it's 'stars'. Instead of seeing them as human beings with flaws, we view them as celebrities. We avoid using critical thinking skills when someone in the community comes up against criticism and it can end up damaging our reputation as a whole.

Witch n’ Bitch

While this is one of the most obvious issues with modern witchcraft groups, it is far from the bottom of the cauldron. While many groups come together promising to provide resources for education, help learning rituals and practices, and open discussions, I find that very few of them ever deliver on these promises. I've joined more than a few witchcraft 'study groups' only to have them disband after a few sessions for one reason or another. Others have sessions which quickly get derailed from methods and history into a bitching session about over covens, daily drama, or the like. Instead of helping interested parties by providing resources and discussion, it basically becomes a witches tea party. Brooms are snatched.

Exclusion By Design

Something else I want to bring up is the exclusion by design if not by intention concept that plagues covens. I have seen this manifest in more ways then I can count. Most typically it crops up in the form of “you're not experienced enough in our particular tradition”. However, I've noticed a lot of problems with most pagan groups being painfully white. The excuse is that this makes sense because most witchcraft traditions are European. However, that doesn't seem to stop most witches from liberally grabbing whatever non-European cultural paraphernalia they feel fits their witchy aesthetic. The most notable victims being the American Indians, the Voodoo/Santeria practitioners, and Mexican folk beliefs. I've been told by several people that this isn't on purpose. It's just how it ended up. But when you have to triple check everybody on a Norse Heathen group chat to be sure none of them have any racist ideology there is an inherent problem with the community which is long overdue for exposure.

Queer Craft

I’d like to bring up the patriarchal and hetero-normative slant that is heavily enforced in modern witchcraft and neopaganism. I want to preface this by saying that when I think of a witch, I think of a woman who lives apart from societal norms. She is autonomous. She is self-aware. She is unruffled by others perceptions of her. This is what makes her a force to be reckoned with. Yet much of wicca and neopaganism strives to enforce a very heteronormative perception of a woman's role in society by establishing the narrative of the Maiden/Mother/Crone archetype. While there is beauty in each of these phases of life and there is nothing wrong with a woman finding power in them for herself, enforcing them as a role model for what a woman should be has dangerous implications. A woman must be a virgin, reproductive, or too old to bother with. And it should come as no surprise that concepts have no real male counterpart.

This becomes an even bigger problem as we look forward to a more inclusive world where we are learning to recognize a larger spectrum of gender and sexuality. Where does the Queer witch fit in with these very narrow perceptions of the divine within the self? The pagan community loves to talk about itself as an accepting and open community that embraces all sexualities openly. But that isn't very well reflected in its liturgy and conception. I don't think this gets discussed much because people have heralded the God/Goddess, Horned God/Earth Goddess format for so long that we take it for granted despite these perceptions being relatively modern ones. While there are some traditions which put emphasis on the Queer spectrum and embracing it as a source of power and self-realization, they are few and far between.

Psudo Ethics

The final thing I want to bring up is the irritating moral high-ground that people in the pagan community are so willing to put forth any time we are questioned about our beliefs. It is just as irritating if not more so than listening to Christians proselytize. The Wiccan Rede has held a position for a long time as a general set of standards for what witches and wiccans should consider before acting or casting spells. However, I'm pleasantly surprised to see more of a discussion happening on morality in witchcraft. We don't exist to turn the other cheek. While I'm not a believer in the 'strike first' policy, I am a believer in defending myself when attacked.

I see a lot of judgment happening in the wiccan community, especially now that witchery is in the forefront of social media. People poking their noses into how others practice and deciding to take it upon themselves to 'correct' how another practitioner does their work. I understand why some people want to pursue a more positive and affirming lifestyle through wiccan practices. There is nothing wrong with that. But I confess myself irritated when I'm chided by other witches for casting a curse or have a discussion with a demon. My prerogatives are not your moral imperative, nor are any other witches. So long as my actions are not directed against you, it isn't any of your business what I get up to.

In Conclusion

Ironically, one of the biggest issue with discussing if not resolving many of these issues is that we, as witches/pagans and the like, are NOT a unified group. We are a loose collective. We don't have one central figure who decides doctrine. We don't have any of those things that make for dogma. The fact that we can choose to act independently of one another is a big part of our power. It emboldens us to think for ourselves, question tradition, and seek out new methods and practices which are better suited to our needs. Witchcraft does not begin and end with the anathema and the chalice. We can choose to both acknowledge the gods without permitting them too much influence over our lives. We can dance naked under the full moon while enticing a demon or just make a hot cup of tea while we listen to the rain and meditate. All of this is within our grasp.

But before we can practice together, we have to learn how to function together. And right now I don't' see a great deal of that happening. I believe that by learning how to be ourselves first, by practicing as solitary and independent witches before seeing out a group, we can be more confident overall. After fifteen years of practicing, I can tell you truthfully that I haven't learned anything in a group that I couldn't have learned by studying and practicing on my own. Mostly because 90% of the groups out there read the same damned books I do and are more into repetitive ritual than anything else. I would have loved to work with someone like Sarah Anne Lawless, even just to attend a few workshops led by her. Until we can learn to be better individuals as witches first, I don't know if our community can be better together.

#witchcraft #wicca #pagan #witch #wiccan #paganism #anit-coven #covens #critique #rant #problems within the community #pagan community #wiccan community #editorial #solitary witch

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thedevilinherself · 5 years

Text

The Young Master Ch.3

Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3

You waited patiently outside of the meeting room door, just far enough away that you wouldn’t overhear whatever was going on inside and no one passing by could accuse you of such. It was still very early in the morning, most of the clan members were just starting to stir, leaving only the servants to scutter about the halls as they prepared for the day ahead.

Being master Hanzo’s personal servant meant you didn’t have many chores beyond caring for him. Which, considering the young man was very neat and tidy, left you little work. So you usually ended up following him around to perform small tasks for him, such as fetching him records or bringing him tea or preparing his arrows for archery. Little things that left you feeling like a secretary most days. But you didn’t mind.

It was a cushy job. One you felt guilty for having most days. But the young master needed you. It wasn’t every day, but when he did call on you for your special services you were reminded why you had this easy job. Even in the short few months you had been at his side, you could see a change in him. He was on edge less, anger more subdued and face more laxed regularly.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the large doors of the meeting room creaked open, heavy on their hinges. Standing at attention, you watched as master Hanzo emerged, expression stern and posture stiff. Judging by his manner, you surmised that his father had heaped more responsibility on the already overburdened scion.

Giving a bow, you waited for your master to pass you. He never gave the command for you to follow. The words never needed utterance.

But instead, he paused, turning to look over his shoulder as a slender woman seemed to float from within the meeting room. You were taken aback at her radiance. She was the kind of woman musicians wrote songs about. Legends would one day tell of her beauty. And you were unsure how to respond in her presence. But your master would be sure you knew your role.

“This is my fiancé. If there is anything she needs, you are to see to it.” You tried to hide your surprise, almost forgetting to bow as his words failed to fully sink in as your master continued. “While our fathers continue discussing the arrangements, we can get acquainted over some tea, if you would like.” Nodding, the woman’s eyes never left you, even though she faced master Hanzo.

As the two passed you, you couldn’t help but be drawn in by the smell of her perfume. It was heavenly, delicate and feminine. You could only dream of having something so entrancing. But you knew it was your fate to smell of cleaners and the oil used on your master’s bow forever.

Following behind at a respectable distance as the two discussed diplomatic things, the conversation was polite and cordial, yet you found it vapid. You parted with them briefly to slip into the kitchen, preparing your master’s favorite tea and readying a few small treats the lady might fancy.

Once you returned, they had already settled at the chabudai. Even her posture was remarkable. She seemed like a porcelain doll, fragile and exquisitely crafted. Master Hanzo gave no acknowledgment as you set the tea before him, continuing to address his apparent fiancé.

“Most likely, once they settle on the arrangements, you will come to live here, in preparation for the marriage. Feel free to let me know if there is anything you need. Our servants are very accommodating.”

“So it would appear.” Again, her eyes lingered on you. Much like a doll, her eyes had a shine to them that made them almost inhuman looking.

Despite the beauty that glowed from her, you found her eyes cold, so emotionless as they watched you move about the room. There was something so familiar about them, yet you could not place it. If your master noticed this, he disregarded it as he continued his polite conversation.

“The grounds have everything you could ever want. The garden is one of the best in Japan, and-“

“Who is this?” You were startled at the woman abruptness, eyes direct and empty as they looked you up and down, sizing you up and finding you wanting. Facing you for the first time, those piercing eyes never left you as she waited for her answer.

“She is my personal servant.” The young master stated, unfazed by the woman’s harsh tone. “She sees to it that everything is kept up to my standard.”

“So she is your whore.” Your heart clenched at her words, her brazen directness leaving you stunned. Hanzo looked at the woman, clearly displeased with her manner. Eyes still locked on you, she again tilted her face to regard your master, leaving you to wonder which one of you really had her attention. You had never seen a woman of her class act like this. “Then I want her gone.”

You blinked at her, so taken aback at her demand. Looking over at your master, you waited for his response, concerned by the irritation you could see budding just under the surface of his cool demeanor.

“I beg your pardon.” He stated, more to give the woman a chance to compose herself and rephrase her demand than out of any misunderstanding.

“I want her gone. I don’t care where she goes, I don’t want her around you. If we are to be married, you will take no woman but me. I won’t have any bastard children running around what will be my home. And especially not if the mothers are the likes of servants.” Her eyes were cruel, cutting you to the core as they bore a hole in you. Unreadable and lifeless. Like the eyes of a shark.

“Don’t you think it a bit brash to be making such demands when the marriage hasn’t been settled an hour?” Cool as ever, master Hanzo remained composed.

“She leaves, or I do. And then you can explain to your father how you lost his best marriage proposal because you couldn’t give up your filthy whore.” He couldn’t refuse, and she knew it. This marriage would be extremely beneficial for the clan, expanding its control and securing an alliance that would last for generations.

Needing no further words, the woman stood, taking her leave. But not before sparing you one final, victorious glance.

In her wake, the room filled with a tension that gripped your heart and chilled your skin. What should you say? What could you say? You wanted nothing more than to bring your master ease. But if this was to be his wife, then having you around would only burden him. And beyond that, it wasn’t your call to make.

Timidly, your eyes found the young master, questioning and unsure. His gaze remained fixed on the spot the woman had occupied, fearsome and violent. Thinly hidden beneath the mask of composure was a fire of outrage that consumed. It almost frightened you to behold, recalling memories of your experiences with the man before you had become close. Back when he was brimming with anger and stress.

“I guess I need to leave.” You muttered, voice reaching him through his rage, eyes watching him despairingly, not daring to hope that he might argue, might make you stay.

“It appears that would be best.” Master Hanzo stated softly, stoic in the face of this decision, though his eyes betrayed him. In those brown orbs, you could see regret.

“I will always remain loyal to you. So please, do not trouble yourself.” As you bowed, he knew your words to be true. You would never tell anyone about the time the two of you spent together. And that only made this goodbye harder. “Please, take care of yourself. I hope that one day, you can come to trust your wife as much as you have trusted me.” You both knew that was just wishful thinking. A woman like that would never accept Hanzo as he was, never understand the unique comfort he needed.

As the two of you stood there in silence, you realized there was nothing left to say. With another bow, you took your leave, not able to bear the sadness that lingered in his eyes. Hanzo wanted to reach out, to stop you, to find another way, but he knew what he had to do. The future of the clan came first.

It didn’t take you long to move your things back into the servant’s common space, the questioning stares and whispered rumors from the other servants like pins stabbing into your heart. But you stayed strong. You should have known this game couldn’t last. A man like Hanzo Shimada could never have been yours for long.

In the days that followed, you buried yourself in your work. . You isolated yourself from the other servants, not able to bear the constant questioning, both cruel and friendly. The memory of your time with the young master, too painful. It was hard enough to see Hanzo around, let alone when he was accompanied by that woman, her eyes cruel and derisive as they surveyed you. But as you let work consume your life, your output increased to notable levels. You were completing twice as much work as any of the other servants, attracting the attention of your bosses as you constantly harassed them for more work.

They were grateful for the help and had put you in charge of the new flower bed that had just been planted. Most of the plants were exotic, beautiful and bizarre, but unsuited to the climate, causing them to need more attention. You were all too happy to have something to occupy yourself with, a large portion of your day now being spent popping into the courtyard to tend the struggling plants. And besides, master Hanzo never really visited the garden, so it was at least one place you knew you were safe.

The days grew into weeks, which in turn became months. And slowly, you convinced yourself that this was for the best. It was a falsehood you repeated to yourself day and night, speaking it into truth as you sought to forget the time you had spend with the young master. The nights you had pleased him, the sounds he made as he surrendered to your comfort, the feeling of his muscles as the tension left him, the dazed fog of his eyes after he found his pleasure.

You couldn’t kid yourself. You couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t shake the feeling of importance he granted you in those moments. It was a beautiful secret, one you had cherished and held dear. You couldn’t just forget that. But what else were you to do?

You were irrelevant again. Disposable. You had returned to your proper place. Master Hanzo was everything to this clan. And you were just a servant, a mouse that scurried in the presence of dragons.

You had reached beyond your means, and it had all gone wrong.

And now all you could do was bury yourself in your work. Praying the satisfaction of a hard days work was enough to fill the void in your life and exhaust you enough that sleep overtook the thoughts and memories that plagued you at night.

So now here you were, wrist deep in the dirt as you transplanted a particularly finicky flower in the hopes the new spot would provide it more sun. The overcast day did nothing to help your mood as you dug at the packed earth, grumbling to yourself. Your clothes were smeared in soil, your face most likely fairing much the same. But it was good, physical work. And you were grateful for it.

“To see such beautiful hands soiled by filth. It’s a shame.” You gasped at the voice that whispered in your ear, jumping to your feet to whip around, bowing deeply as you greeted the newcomer.

“Master Genji! You startled me.” You knew Genji took great delight in sneaking up on servants, his silent footsteps and masterful stealth allowing him to surprise many of the unprepared workers, but he had never really bothered with you, choosing instead to pursue the more attractive of the servants.

“Oh, did I?” He asked coyly, his eyes alight with mischief as they studied you. You knew better than to trust this trickster. If he was here talking to you, it surely wasn’t with pure intentions.

“Is there something you need, sir?” You asked, giving another respectful bow as you studied him cautiously.

“Maybe you could help me with something.” There was something in his grin, so charming and disarming, yet so devilish and cold, that sent a prickle through your spine. His manner reflected nothing of his brothers direct and upfront nature.

“I was thinking you could answer a question for me. One I’m sure many of the women of the castle have wondered.” Lips stretched thin, your heart beat wildly in your chest as he leaned in closer, fingers brushing through your hair as his sinful smile left you paralyzed.

“I’m not sure I follow, sir.” You knew this was trouble. Genji never spared a servant so much as a second glance unless he was after something.

“Well, with your help,” hand slinking around your waist, he pulled you closer as he leaned in to nip at your ear, “we can find out which brother is better in bed.” Your heart sank as your fears were confirmed.

Opening your mouth to protest, you were startled as the crafty man took his chance, capturing your lips to sneak his tongue in your mouth. Despite it being midday, you could taste the alcohol on his tongue as it tangled with yours with expert skill. As you moved to push against his chest, the man pulled away, denying you the chance to shove him off you as he kept you close.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not your type. You’ve never given me so much as a second glance.” You wanted to smack him, wanted to call him out for the pervert and scoundrel he was, but you knew better. So you settled for a scolding tone and hateful look.

“But my brother has. And I have to wonder, how much will it bother him to see his former lover getting close to his brother?” Whispering in your ear, a sickly feeling brewed in the pit of your stomach as his tongue flicked over your lower lobe. You had always known Genji was a brat of a man, arrogant and spoiled, but for him to be so malicious towards his own brother? It made you rethink all the times master Hanzo had gotten scolded on Genji’s behalf. Were those all a twisted scheme too?

Turning his head, Genji looked off to his right, devilish grin only growing as he gave a friendly wave. Following his eyes, you too glanced over at the entrance to the main building, a small gasp escaping you upon meeting master Hanzo’s eyes.

Standing there in the doorway, as unmoving and strong as the mountains, Hanzo’s eyes were cold, scornful as they cut you in two. His features seemed sharper than you remembered, more chiseled and sculpted. You had almost forgotten just how handsome he was, even in anger. And those eyes, brown and beautiful and deep, now looked right through you, as if miles beyond your reach.

He spared you a disdainful glare, harsh and judgmental before turning sharply to walk away, shoulders powerful and straight as he retreated down the hall.

“Why was Master Hanzo here?” You asked, voice strained and heavy. “He never comes to the garden. Why was he here?”

“I invited him.” Genji’s wily eyes and delighted grin burned you, filling you with scorn as you balled your fists to fight the urge to smack him.

“I have chores to do.” Jerking from his grasp, you dashed off, anger consuming you as Genji’s words festered inside you. His laughter filled the garden, the halls, seemingly the whole castle as you sought to escape him. You had known he was a jerk, knew he enjoyed toying with people, but to think he would go out of his way to be so cruel to his own brother, it made your blood boil.

#Overwatch #My writing #hanzo x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada #young hanzo shimada #young genji shimada

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americaswritings · 6 years

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Cinderella |Part 5

Prompt: Fairy tale AU

Summary: When your father marries another woman, she brings not only two evil stepsisters into the house, but turns you into a maid. Working hard day for day your only hope is the princes ball, where he will pick is future wife. But will you be able to flee from the claws of your family?

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: sexual harassment (short), me sucking at writing first meetings

Pairing: Steve x reader

A/N: This is for @ruckystarnes‘ writing challenge.

Sorry, this took so long. My life is a little stressful atm, but I will upload as soon as possible.

Also Bucky is in this one!!

Tags are open! Only through asks! Please consider leaving me feedback :)

You made your way over to the dance floor and stopped when you reached it. It looked like so much fun to dance, but nobody had asked you yet and you couldn’t dance on your own. So you spend the time admiring the dancers from your spot.

Only a few minutes later, a young man had appeared on your side. He held out his arm without any word and you took it without any hesitation.

You felt as if you were flying The music and the group of other dancers made you feel comfortable while your dance partner twirled you around.

He had light brown shoulder long hair, which was tugged behind his ears and irritating blue eyes, which made his appearance even more unique. You realized that you didn’t know his name and it was impossible to ask now, since you were breathless and occupied not to trip.

The song ended and the partners were traded. A dark haired man stood before you, his hair messy and his green eyes puffy. You could smell the alcohol from his breath and immediately got uncomfortable.

The dance started and he grabbed your hip, only he squeezed it a little too tight. “Nice party huh?”, he asked and the wave of alcohol hit your face. You turned your face away in disgust and only nodded as a response.

“You are a really pretty thing actually”, he observed and studied you closer. You tried to put distance between his body and yours, but it didn’t work. His grip was too firm.

You gazed up to see that he was still examining your body, staring at places you weren’t comfortable with. Your breath quickened and you pushed against his chest, but he only laughed at your attempt to turn him down. “Pretty feisty as well, huh?”

Before you could react to it, the hands were removed from your hips and you found yourself in the arms of another man. You heared the dark haired man protest, but a sharp look from your new dance partner made him still and he left.

“I am sorry about that”, the man apologized with a sad smile and put some space between your bodies. He had baby blue eyes and blonde hair, which shimmered golden in the dimmed light. He wore a white suit, which was decorated with buttons and insignias.

It took you a moment to recognize him, but then you gasped in surprise. You had only seen the prince once, when he had still been a child himself. Your mother had taken you to the market that day and you had seen the king and his son. He had taught the young prince about different kind of prices, who hadn’t looked interested at all.

“Oh, I am sorry, my prince”, you responded and bowed your head for a second. “There is no need to be formal”, he told you with a smile and you blushed. You were beyond grateful that he had saved you from the other man, but didn’t know how to express your appreciation.

After that it was silent. You danced for the rest of the song and the song after that and the one after that one. None of you made a move to change partners and so you danced with the prince for a long time. Although none of you said a word you told each other so many things, as if you communicated through your moves.

Your bodies were in perfect synth and you even forgot about your shoes and the heavy dress. You felt light and if the prince hadn’t held you in his arms you felt like you would have flown off.

When the song ended the prince pulled you a little closer. “You are an amazing dance partner”, he confessed and you felt your cheeks getting red. “Thank you. You aren’t that bad either”, you noted and he laughed.

“That is because I had to take dancing lessons my whole life”, he admitted and you blushed again. “Oh.” He smiled at you.

“Excuse me”, a high pitched voice pulled you out of your gaze. You felt like you had woken up from a dream, a beautiful dream and had to go back to the dull reality.

“There are other people who want to dance with the prince as well”, the woman with raven hair and narrowed eyes acknowleged in an accusing voice. She was wearing a red dress, that showed more skin than it covered.

“Oh my god, I am sorry”, you blushed and stepped back. Maybe you had overstepped your boundary without realizing it.

The prince seemed to be uncomfortable himself. He gazed to the ground, not knowing what to say.

You rushed off without a word and made your way out of the crowd. You needed to get some air.

You spotted a backdoor and sneaked outside.

The night was cold, but provided fresh air, which filled your lungs promptly. You walked away from the castle, embarassed at what had just happened. How did you mess up everything good that happened to you?

You realized that you were in the gardens. You didn’t know if you were allowed to be here, but a stubborn part of you thought that it wouldn’t matter if they arrested you. Maybe going to prison was even better when going back to your stepmother and stepsisters.

You found a bench and sat down. From the castle you heared the clock hitting 11 beats. You had an hour left until you had to return home, still you felt like the evening had just started.

All of this- the dress, the shoes, the make-up- the betrayal of your family- for what exactly? A moment of dancing? Was it even worth it?

You sat there in silence and tried to get a clear head. You didn’t know how much time had passed by, but suddenly you heared a branch cracking.

“Can I sit here?”, a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. The prince was standing in front of you, fiddling with his sleeves. You nodded and made space for him.

“I am sorry for what happened”, he apologized after he had sat down. “Oh, there is no reason to apologize”, you assured him, realizing it was the second time he had apologized to you this evening.

“I think there is”, he confessed, peeking at your face. “I put you in an uncomfortable situation and I am sorry for that.”

You still saw no reason for him to feel guilty, but let it go with a smile. “How did you find me here?”, you wondered and turned to get a better look on his face.

“I saw you slip out of the hall”, he explained with a chuckle. “Aren’t you cold?”, he questioned and you shook your head.

“Maybe a little”, you admitted shyly.

The next thing happened so quickly that you had no time to protest. The prince took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Thank you.”You felt your cheeks getting red and tried to cover it up with a little cough.

“No need to thank me”, he grinned. “I am Steve by the way.” He held out his hand, but you hesitated to shake it. “I am not sure if it is appropriate if I called you that”, you pointed out.

“Nobody would know. Besides- I don’t care”, he responded with a grin and you nodded. “I am (y/n)”

You spend the rest of the night with Steve in the gardens. You wondered if nobody would question his absence, but he told you that the most people were probably to drunk to realize he was missing.

He told you a lot about his life and himself and you felt like it made him feel better. There seemed to be a weight on his shoulders that he carried around his whole life and talking to somebody else made it better.

You wished that you could do the same, tell him everything about your life, but that wasn’t possible. You couldn’t betray your family like that nor could you trust the prince enough to reveal this secret.

You liked him, you really did; he seemed to be selfless and kind and caring, but once you would admit your secret you wouldn’t be able to take it back. There was a reason they treated you like this, and you figured once the prince would know, he wouldn’t look at you the same again.

How could he, when he would learn that you were a maid with no friends and no loved ones. If nobody loves you, something is really wrong if you. Maybe you don’t deserve love. Maybe you are worthless.

Your stepmother had taught you that a long time ago and you couldn’t bare the prince looking at you in pity or disgust.

So every time Steve asked you something about yourself, you blocked. Instead you told him something else, mostly stories from your childhood when your mother had still been alive. When everything had been perfect.

“She seemes like a great woman”, he gently smiled at you. “I hope I will be able to meet her some day.” Your heart squeezed in pain at his words and you blinked away the tears. “I am sure she would love you”, you responded with a fake smile, but Steve had furrowed his brows.

But before he could say anything the clock began to hit 12. Panicking you looked around. “Is everything alright?”, Steve asked worried. You nodded, but shook your head at the same time. “I have to go”, you stuttered and got up from the bench.

“Thank you for the jacket.” You pressed it to his chest and turned around. “And thank your for the nice evening”, you yelled over your shoulder while running away as fast as possible.

“Wait, (y/n)”, you heared his baffled voice in the distance, but you couldn’t turn around. Fortunaley he wasn’t following you, so you only concentrated on making it home as quickly as possible.

You saw the first carriages taking people home and sped even more.

If your family would be home before you were, they would kill you.

Tags: Permanent Tags: @capkilljoy @not-reptilian @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @justanotherfangirl272 @theshortegg Marvel Tags: @iamwarrenspeace Steve Tags: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory Cinderella Tags: @farfromjustordinary @wildestdreamsrps @sydthekid1518 @100kindsofblake @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @its-forevermore @lobathenerd

Tags are open! Only through asks! Please leave feeback :)

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bahamastrro · 4 years

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𝕮𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖆 (𝕬 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖇𝖞 𝕷𝖏 𝕲𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖟 & 𝕹𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕹𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖔)

Once in a tiny village there lived a couple. Their love for each other grow and soon gave birth to a cute little baby. They named her Celia.

Time passed by and Celia grown and become a kid. While her mother is brushing the hair of her precious little daughter in front of a mirror. Her mother notice something, she looked closely to the mirror and then looked back to Celia’s face. Her mother were in shock to see that Celia amongst others have a tiny nose. Only Celia have a tiny nose in their village.

Time passed and Celia grow older and reached the age of 13 years old. having a tiny nose amongst others is more clearly to see. Whenever she goes outside to play, kids in their village rejects her and then says, “We don’t want to play with you, you are different from us, you have a tiny nose, you’re ugly”.

After hearing what they said, Celia rushed home and cried and ask herself, “Why am I ugly?”, “Why do I have such a tiny nose?”, “Why am I different?”.

Her mother heard what Celia said and rushed to comfort her asking, “What happened my dear?”. “Mother why am I different?, you and father have a normal nose, why am I different?” she replied. “There is nothing to worry about it my dear you’re beautiful as you are.” She replied. “Here have this necklace, it will serve as sign of how beautiful you are Celia.” Said her mother.

A minute after, Celia stopped crying and hugged her mother tight. Because other kids does not want to play with her, Celia think of something to do so that she can amuse herself. She tried to learn on how to build furniture’s like her father. Not like typical other girls her age do who is busy making themselves ready to become a beautiful young adult. As time passed by. Celia became good at making furniture’s such as tables and chairs. Along with her father, they roam around the village to sell their beautiful crafts. “This chair is well-made.” A man said. “Ohh! Thank you. That chair is made from a high-grade oak tree, that’s quite a high quality chair.” Replied her father. “I can tell it is.” The man replied.

While the people are looking at their crafts. Something caught their attention at the back of their horsed wagon. It is a young lady covering her face. “Why are you covering your face?” a lady asked. “It is nothing, just don’t mind me and look at our glamorous crafts. Isn’t it beautiful?” Celia replied. “Indeed it is. But how can we trust buying someone’s crafts if we cannot see their faces?” The lady replied. “But the most important thing here is our crafts that were selling isn’t it?” Celia Replied. “Yes it is. But we cannot trust buying your crafts if you’re hiding your face from us.” The lady replied. “Show us your face so that we will not worry buying from you.” said a man.

Celia looked at her father straight to its eyes. Trying to tell him “can we please go now” by just looking at him. Her father immediately know what were Celia’s eyes trying to say and said to the people. “Perhaps some other time, I’ll come back here again”.

When her father and Celia arrived home. Celia immediately go to her room and locked herself. Celia’s father goes straight to his wife and tells her what happened. “I think we should make a way to end her suffering.” Her father said. “Then what should we do?” her mother ask. “Go talk to her. Tell her not to feel different anymore. Tell her its normal there is nothing wrong about it.” Replied her father. “But I already did that before and it didn’t work.” Her mother replied.

Little did they know Celia heard that they are arguing. “NEIGHHH…!!!” They heard the loud sound their horse made as it runs as fast as thunder. “I think she heard us.” Said her father. “What should we do?” her mother asked. “Just let her darling. Let her wonder, think, and find herself.” Said her father. “But what if she’ll not come back?” asked her mother. “She will. I know she will. Have faith on you daughter.” Said her father.

Celia go as far as she can while riding their horse. After a long continuous run. She noticed that their horse is tired. Luckily they get to a place where there are a lot of grasses. While letting the horse feed on grasses and giving it a good rest, Celia noticed a small water falls hiding in the middle of the forest. She got amaze by its dazzling crystal clear water. She took off all of her cloths and then dived in. the water is cold and refreshing. Celia then dip all her body in to feel the waters calmness and think. Without knowing a guy is hiding from the bush is watching her. When Celia is about to finish the guy hides carefully so that Celia won’t notice her.

After Celia wore her cloths and leave. The guy noticed that Celia left her necklace. He grabbed it and tried to give it back to Celia but she did not catch Celia.

While Celia is riding their horse. A thought of her mother comes up to her mind. She then grabbed the necklace her mother gave to her but in her surprise the necklace is gone. She then immediately turned back to find the necklace. While finding the necklace she didn’t notice that she got back to their village already. Couple of men tried to harass her thinking she’s from another village. But when the men’s about to approach her they receive a flying kick from a tall, well-built, handsome man. “It’s the duke’s son” a lady shouted. All the girls immediately go in their direction. Loud shouting from every direction is heard. After getting circled by the villages people the disrespectful group of man swiftly run away. All the girls were rooting for the duke’s son. But only Celia got his attention. Celia thank the duke’s son without looking at his face thinking it will also reject her because her veil got off her face. But the duke’s son held her face up. “It’s Celia and her tiny nose” a lady shouted. “Such lucky ugly women, he got save by the duke’s son” said another women. And all the village people laugh.

Celia, because of shame run to their home. “Run like what you always do, ugly Celia”. The village people then again laugh. The duke look at Celia’s necklace that he is about to give to Celia back. “Such a unique beautiful lady” he murmured.

The lady who put Celia into shame approached the duke’s son thinking it would love to marry her. “She is the most beautiful lady in the village your highness. Take her as your bride.” Said the village people. “Unlike that ugly Celia who’s not worth to be your bride.” Said the lady’s friend. The people all laugh then again. But the duke’s son got angry and shouted “You’re all monsters, how dare you label such beautiful lady ugly.”

After Celia arrived to their house. She immediately ask for forgiveness to her mother and father. Especially to her mother for losing the necklace that is given to her.

Celia while again doing the thing she loved, making furniture’s. Cannot focus on doing it because she is still affected by what the village people said. After so many years she just can’t accept why she is different.

While still trying to amuse herself. A knock on the door distracted the silence. “Does the lady wearing a veil live here?”. Asked the duke’s son. “Yes.” Her mother replied.

Her mother then called Celia. When Celia got there she was surprised that the duke’s son was there. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I was looking for you” replied he. When Celia was about to leave the duke’s son get the necklace from his pocket and showed it to her. “Is this yours?” he asked. “Yes! it’s my necklace” replied she. Then Celia immediately grabbed the necklace from his hand but he move his hand out of Celia’s reach. “You can’t just get it that easily milady.” He said. “You need to marry me.” Celia in shock, slapped the duke’s son thinking it is just making fun of her. “But I’m serious” he said. “How can you afford to marry someone different like me?” the duke’s son then moved closer to her. Wore off her veil and said. “That is why you amongst others is the one I’m going to marry. Because you are different, you’re unique, you’re someone I’m finding for a long time.” Celia burst into tears after hearing those words. Thinking no one would love her. “You’re being different is what makes you, you milady. That is why I love you.” he said. “You’re like a rose in a dessert that is full of succulents.” He added. Celia after a long time smiled for getting a compliment. She then accepted the duke’s son’s invitation of marriage. Never looked down again and never again wore a veil to cover her face. And live a happy life.

#fictionalnarrative

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akelyokikagu · 7 years

Text

The Cursed - chapter I

# The Cursed - Chapter I

## Crimes strike at midnight

Midnight was the hour crimes struck, as it was universally known criminals fancied midnight as the time to initiate any of their machiavellian plans. The plans could include elegant thefts to savage murders, but tonight’s was from another genre if crimes were books that had an end, or not. When it came to murders or thefts there always had a trail of clues the police of Edo could hike through; but now it had been weeks since the Shinsengumi couldn’t solve the case. It was everywhere: newspapers, TV , everyone knew and everyone were frightened for their sisters, daughters or lovers.

All the victims were adult females, age ranging from eighteen to twenty-five, all of them accomplished in a way or another—the first was a famous artist, the second a gold medals champion, the third a skilled orator and daughter of politicians. Had all the girls targeted been famous, the Shinsengumi would be able to narrow potential preys and assure their security. This was not the case. Some became notorious only through the case; however all females also shared a common point besides accomplishment: beauty, thus earning the nickname of "Sleeping Beauties". Indeed, despite calling over experts and doctors from all the country not a single one could elucidate what happened to the victims as there were no external nor internal injuries, no poisons or toxins, all were positively healthy. Supposedly. Instead, they were all sound asleep and wouldn't wake up no matter what.

It was as if life force itself had been sucked out of them, or as if they became soulless. How the criminal or criminals did so, no one knew.

As of now the public defiled the image of the Shinsengumi day by day as the list of victims grew longer, to the opposite of their clues. Journalists harassed Hijikata for not being as competent as rumoured, Kondo for his constant stalking instead of working and some even suspected Okita for being a deviant Sadist. Although the second was true and the last half, they were officers nonetheless and patrolled every district at night—unfortunately the dark circles below their fatigued eyes weren't what the public saw.

"The Shinsengumi: a useless bunch of country bumpkins? Special pictures of chief Kondo Isao harassing cabaret girls!" Hijikata read the scandalous title from different newspaper with a strained tone, this had been their quotidian now, "Kondo-san I know you want to court Shimura-san but we can't afford to lose even more of the public opinion! And Sougo! What the hell are you doing around Yoshiwara with a chained girl?!"

"I need to affirm my feelings for Otae-san, Toshi! That's how you win a woman so beautiful and strong." "It's not my fault if sows just fall under my feet, Hijikata-san, what would you do if you find one? Just step on her, right?" "No one do that besides you, actually." Hijikata smashed none-too-gently his cigarette into the ashtray on the table, full of the different divisions' reports. "No clues today either."

An uncomfortable silence settled in the tea room, although the Shinsengumi officers were known to be country samurais with very "unique" personality, not a single of them were proud of the current affair. If they couldn't gather and solve the case now the Shogun might disband them because of their ineffectiveness, bolstered by the fact public opinion was assassinating their name. Disbanding would also mean tearing apart a shared dream from long ago, and all the sacrifices they made to be what they are now, all things left behind in order to move forward. Regrets, too.

"… Maybe the Yorozuya Boss knows something. He always does whenever we don't," Kondo finally suggested, "he might already be on it." "All because this lazy silver-perm is the protagonist of *Gintama* what's the point of having such useless main character…" He sighed, "but Kondo-san, you might be right. " "I'll go tomorrow with Hijikata-san." "It's rare of you to propose yourself Sougo! Daddy is proud of you, right Mother?" "WHO'S A MOTHER?" "Because of the patrols I haven't been able to beat China up, anyway. My body's dull, maybe I should go for a tabasco cake."

Kondo and Hijikata decided not to comment about the youngest's plans, after all, one shouldn't look too deep into a sadist's thought. ---- "Oi Kagura, stop reading so close or else you'll become a human wearing glasses like Patsuan." "That's not true Gin-chan, if I wear glasses then I'll be the cute heroine with glasses! There's no way I'll become something like Shinpachi." "Please stop talking like I wasn't here you two, who do you think cook and do all the house chores here?!"

As usual the Yorozuya were being noisy whenever clients weren't present, which to say represented more than ninety percents of the time. One could wonder about how could Sakata Gintoki afford to feed both a giant dog, a gorilla of a daughter in addition of himself, and still have a roof over his head, but then one would remember Sakata Gintoki didn't pay taxes nor rents. Policemen had yet to arrest them, as they did save Edo plenty of time, and most importantly if the chief wasn't aiming at the Shimura eldest as his wife.

"Oi stupid perm, open the door!"

Tax-robbers came.

"Kagura, did you hear? I think I just hear a mosquito right now, what should we do? It's still winter, do you think it's an alien mosquito like the alien cockroaches we had?" "WHAT DID YOU SAY BASTARD?" "Boss, I have a bazooka." "Excuse-me—" "Ah," Hijikata let out a satisfied sigh. "Mosquitoes. There are two right now, they're coming to suck our tax money dry. quick Kagura, we need to smash'em." "— There is a reward, Boss." "Pachi, please open the door to our respectable customers," Gintoki rose up and sat straight on the green couch, coughing up once before looking at Kagura with his dead-fish eyes. "Kagura, go make some tea. Bring the best!"

Kagura snorted back, not even deigning to sit properly. "We don't have good tea Gin-chan, and reading JUMP is better when you're lying down." Before she could continue the passionating story of *Death Pad* a kick came to her waist.

"Oh, a piggy. Danna, do invite me if you're going to roast it, I'm a pro." "… Sadist!" "Don't fight oi, Sougo we came for something else." Hijikata went in front of the duo, not bothering to cross his legs. "Clearly, you aren't civil either. What did both of you come for? It's rare for the Shinsengumi to come to us with a request," Shinpachi laid snacks on the table, hoping to get some money out of the policemen. "Have you heard of the 'Sleeping Beauties'?" "Yeah, do you know how scared I am for my Ketsuno Ana? She stopped appearing on TV you know! Her big brother decided to guard her, I swear, I can't even wake up to her delicate voice and—" "Do you have any informations? Especially what can be the criminal? An Amanto, perhaps?"

Gintoki shook his head, he had seen a lot in his life but not women suddenly falling asleep, maybe once when the giant ex-boyfriend came to take his red-haired brat although he doubted the current meticulous criminal had anything to do with foul oral odour. Kagura didn't worry him, this time, fortunately the criminal hadn't anything to do with a lolicon (or feminist) either.

The officers were in their way into frowning when Kagura interrupted with her index pinpointing a panel from *Death Pad*. "Why should it be an Amanto? It could be something else, yes? If it was an Amanto, I would have known. Papy gave me lot of books about different aliens, but there aren't any that are like that."

"If it's not a human or an Amanto, what could it be? *Ryok*?" "Uh-uh, what if it's a demon? It's not like we haven't met ghosts in *Gintama*, and they like to take life force from humans, yes?" "JUMP is making you even more stupid than usual, China, why would a demon—" "Oi Sougo, the China girl might be right this time. The criminal doesn't let any clues, as if he could disappear into thin air, nobody has seen him or her yet." "Haah, are you listening to China now Hijikata-san? Wow, I didn't know you could be even lower in my esteem, congratulation." "Seriously Sougo, it's no time to get jealous—" (Jealous?!) "— Have you ever heard of Incubus? It's a male demon preying on women at night," he coughed as talking of such depraved creatures in front of Kagura seemed inappropriate. "I hope it's clear enough as to how they take life forces."

Hijikata's words buzzed into everyone's brain, with the exception of Kagura, linking and bonding with the datas they possessed. They had few notions about Incubus, mostly through their feminine counterparts, the Succubus, but imagining a demon very much active in Edo was unheard of. The dead belonged to another world where they couldn't reach the livings, only experimented *onmyoujis* and priests were able to whisper into their ears. Those said experts were from big families like Ketsuno Ana's, the Bakufu had them under their service in order to seal the city from the dead.

In the best case this meant there had been leaks from them, voluntarily or not. In the worst, it meant another or a group of individuals had a grasp of such power with the will of creating chaos within Edo. To treachery, it was the Shinsengumi's duty to bestow the justice, but the Yorozuya's to protect the city.

"Oi, how much is the reward?" "Enough to buy you months of parfaits and pachinko, Boss," Sougo smirked at the now-burning eyes of Gintoki, wondering if it was the idea of danger overshadowing Edo that worried the silver perm or the idea of enjoying his sugary treats. "The Yorozuya will accept this request!" "Gin-san/Gin-chan," two smiling figures suddenly appeared behind Gintoki. Simultaneously, the hands reached his shoulders in a strong, threatening grasp. "You have to pay us, right?"

Gintoki gulped. "H-Hah?"

Screams echoed all through the busy city of Edo. ---- The moon was bright and round when a lean figure slipped in the messy bedroom. Sheets of music cluttered the wooden floor so much one could hardly notice the planks underneath, even the furnitures were blotted with ink, waft of its scent drifting to the male.

"Did you know? Overworking is bad to a woman's health and beauty," the cackling voice resonated in the humble room. It leaned towards a female, deep into sleep, "but then again this is what make your soul so delicious." "Huuh.. You are here again," the purple-haired woman murmured sleepily.

Purple eyes gleamed akin to a predator's, the man licking his lips before pressing them to Otsuu's.

"Good night, sleeping beauty. I wonder if you'll ever wake up with what I left you with, artists like you have such a taste. It's a shame you never last enough," the voice of the individual bewitched Otsuu, like a gentle yet seductive whisper in your ears, resonating deep in you. Hypnotised, the idol let the cold finger lift her chin up while her eyes slowly closed down, lulled by the demon.

Some vile creatures were blessed with a special ability; mermaids had the capacity of captivating anyone who have the bad fortune— or good luck— to hear their voices. As much, Incubus and Succubus were pictures as great beauties snatching humans' hearts, but only few knew about the danger of listening to a demon's susurrus.

They penetrated into your soul, mind and heart, prying on all your memories before flaying you open, reading you like a book. Dangerous whispers talking to your desires and dreams.

END

#Okikagu #Gintama #Fanfic #English #Kagura #Okita Sougo #Yorozuya #Shinsengumi

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theonlyconclusionwaslove · 7 years

Text

THE REVENGE REVALUATION - Chapter 2

As promised, here’s the new chapter. Smut ahead! I also posted it on fanfiction.net , go check it and leave a review! Hope you’ll enjoy. -Ella.

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"Sheldon has really changed." Penny closed their bedroom door and reached Leonard, sitting on the bed and staring at him while he was scrolling down his iPad screen.

"He did. A girlfriend, a new home..he's not even a virgin anymore! Times goes by..." he replied, smiling at her wife.

"Do you think he is ever gonna propose to Amy? He was thinking about it a while ago..and, I mean, they already act like a cute married couple!" Penny laughed, getting under the covers next to him.

He laughed back, nodding. "He still needs time, though I'm sure he still thinks about that. But he's Sheldon Cooper, I mean...a while ago we didn't even know if he actually had genitals! Amy has to be patient."

"Oh, she learned how to be patient a long time ago, for sure." Leonard put his iPad on the bedside table and turned around just to stare at her wife's sleepy face.

"What's the matter?" Penny at first looked at him, then got up leaning on her elbow.

"Oh nothing...I was just wondering how does it work for him doing — you know" he twisted his lips and took the glasses off his face, putting them next to the iPad. Penny arched both her eyebrows, gazing at his husband with the most wondered glance, trying to hold her laughter back. "Well, Leonard...you have to know that, when two people really love each other, it may happen that–"

Leonard rolled his eyes and slowly hit Penny's shoulder to make her stop. "Ouch! I was just kidding...you jerk!"

"I knew...I just..that's strange for me to think that a man who's always been ingenuous now is — a wild animal, oh God!" Leonard jumped off the bed and leaned his ear to the wall. A sound of repetitive hits against the wall and the noise of a creaking bed filled the entire silent room.

Penny widely opened her eyes and mimed a "damn!" with her mouth, joining his husband.

"Oh god..take note you oldie!" she laughed. It didn't even seem Leonard was hearing what she was saying, for he was so focused on those noises and on trying to understand where they come from.

"Oh man, Sheldon you dog!" He went on laughing. Penny shook her head and strangely looked at Leonard, as he stopped overhearing and glanced back at her.

"This is being oddly awkward." she whispered. Leonard didn't even nod, since they continued staring at one another for a while without saying any word. "Goodnight–" "'Night." then said together, departing from the wall and going under the bed's cover. ___________________________________________

Amy stood up in front of Sheldon, heavy breaths, her eyes treading his figure from head to toes, without blinking or glancing anywhere.

It was a while since the last time they made love: Amy was really trying to respect Sheldon's decision of taking coitus off the table at least till they would've found a safe and stable place where to live.

They were enjoying life in 4B, but it kinda felt they needed more privacy and stability.

The decision of sharing a house with Amy has been challenging Sheldon since the beginning, proving him that living with a nerd, short, lactose - intolerant guy was quite different than living with a woman.

Not to mention he loved living with Amy, seeing her from morning to evening and harassing her with his joys and troubles.

But...wasn't it what marriage was about? Otherwise this would've explain why people keep telling them they looked like a cute married couple. Anyway this wasn't the main problem at that moment. Sheldon was too busy staring at Amy's breasts that now were only covered up by her white lace bra.

Her sweater now was laying on the floor somewhere in the room, and she was staring at him with those lustful pleading eyes he couldn't resist to.

Right in the moment when Amy was approaching to start kissing him, she stopped and looked at him into his eyes and whispered "Maybe we should reconsider this, since you don't wanna have coitus with me if's not my birthday or as long as we're living here..you're choice." her sweet and caring voice tone made Sheldon smile.

Though it was a hard choice to take, Amy just made things easier by watching him with those tender eyes. He knew she didn't do it to arouse him, but just because she was too respectful towards his decison and didn't want to oppress him.

He looked back into her eyes and bit his lower lip, as she arched her eyebrows, trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

"Everything's okay?" she asked considerately. "Yes, that's just...I'd really like to change plans...and have coitus with you tonight."

"Then why do you seem upset?"

"Oh..I'm not upset. That's my..turned on look" he whispered, trying to hide his shame.

Amy swallowed and took a deep breath as she felt her heart jumping and a throb between her legs. She apporached him and took his hand, moistening her lips.

"So, what do you wanna do? I don't wanna force you or-"

"Amy I want you. Right now." he directly said, glancing at her lips. "Then, I'm yours." she whispered once again and put her lips on his. At first, they stayed motionless, lips to lips. Then, Sheldon put his hand on her hip and the other one behind her neck, holding her close. As her lips slowly opened to allow his tongue to enter her mouth, she gently moaned and leaned her half naked body against his.

He slipped his hand from her neck to her cheek, bringing a strand of hair behind her ear. Their tongues started caressing eachother, when Amy started lifting Sheldon's first shirt, as their kisses became more passionate and involving. They pulled apart just to let Amy take Sheldon's first shirt off and do the same with his second one.

Before restarting to kiss him, Amy gazed at Sheldon's pectorals and biceps, trying not to smirk and biting her lower lip. "You're stunning. You leave me breathless." she said, putting again her lips on his and pulling him slowly towards the bed.

"You are beautiful as well. My Amy." he replied without moving away from her lips. "My perfect, unique Amy." he continued, laying down on his back and leading her to lay on his body.

The neurobiologist started kissing gently his neck, going down and down, untill she reached his chest and teased his nipple with her fingers, while she kept kissing his pectorals with her half opened mouth. Sheldon loudly moaned when he felt her tongue caressing his nipple and, right after, her mouth greedely sucking portions of skin.

He bit his lip, closing his eyes and trying not to make any noise but when Amy stretched her arm just to grab his erection above his pant's tissue he groaned her name.

Amy smirked and unbuttoned his pants, slipping her hand under his underwear and starting to run her hand through his erection. Sheldon cried in pleasure, torturing his lower lip, then he put both his hands on Amy's posterior, like he wanted her to do more, then she resumed kissing his lips, muffling her moans in his mouth.

She could feel the wetness on his member's tip as she continued stroking, faster and faster, letting his precum wet his underwear.

Sheldon's hands went down to take off Amy's skirt and throw it away on the floor.

She withdrew her hand from his underwear and, with a firm move, lowered his pants. He took advantage of the situation to get up and pull her on the mattress, sitting down on her pelvis and bending over her to cup her breasts with his hands and squeeze them.

As he stroked his hardened member, still covered by his underwear, against her sex, she started screaming in pleasure. Amy arched her back, pulling him closer and moving her anks to follow his movements, while Sheldon started to lick a portion of her neck, placing his lips on her skin and sucking harder and harder.

His hands now were running through her body and stopped once just to unhook her bra and finally uncover her beautiful bare breasts.

Sheldon continued stroking against her, being pleased of her strong moans. "Sheldon, please.." she uttered. "I-I want you. I want you so bad."

At those words, Sheldon completely lost control and went down with both his hands to remove her partially wet panties and do the same with his underwear.

He sighed in relief when he pulled his member free and smirked when he caught Amy staring lustfully at his erection. "Do you enjoy what you see?" He said, licking his lips. "Hoo, I do." she blushed, glancing at his face.

Sheldon parted her legs and massaged her inner thigh, watching her rolling her eyes for the excessive pleasure.

He aimed his member's tip to her entrance and slowly stroke into her, rolling his eyes and trying to muffle his cries which were smothered into his throat.

He then started moving into her, resting his hands on her hips. "Sheldon...God, you're so good. Please..harder." she pleaded, closing her eyes to focus on the pleasure which was overwhelming her.

He withdrew from her, under Amy's confused gaze, then he firmly stroke into her in one move, making her scream out louder. Sheldon was staring at Amy's perfect naked body whriting in pleasure and looking at how she tried to blink her eyes almost in desperation. "Oh man, it feels so good." she uttered with a throaty voice, pushing herself against him as if she wanted to unite their bodies and make them into one. Sheldon grabbed Amy by the hips and pulled into her harder, acquiring more confidence and rhytm.

Every push made Amy want more. It was like she couldn't get enough of feeling Sheldon becoming a part of her; the fusion of their bodies was perfectly arousing. Then Sheldon, between one push and another one, said "Do you think we're doing it good?" Amy looked confusely at him, raising her head a little from the pillow. "What do you mean?" her voice sounded extremely low and lustful as she was feeling really close before his boyfriend partially interrupted their intercourse. "I mean, do you think Leonard and Penny can hear us?" he licked his lips and stopped for a moment, staring into his girlfriend's deep blue eyes.

Amy smiled: how could she even forget about the purpose of their coitus? She was getting so involved that she just stopped thinking about it.

"Oh, right.. our Revenge sex...well I don't know if you agree but we seemed wilder than the other times. So...I guess..they heard every single thing." She smirked and rested her hand on his perfectly sculpted chest, slowly leading it to his belly and biting her lower lip. "Can we start over now?" she whispered as she saw their pelvises laying on one another.

"Oh god yes" he replied and started striking into her without any notice.

His hard push made Amy scream even harder and hit the wall with one hand.

"Amy you're so tight. I am close-" he moaned, reacquiring the rhytm he was following before they stopped. Amy put her hands on his shoulder and clawed his skin with her nails. She was so close too but at the same time she didn't want to end all this. She gave up to the pleasure a moment before Sheldon did, saying her name with that beautiful, exciting throaty voice tone.

He fell on her sweated body and took a deep breath. Amy was stuck on the mattress, staring at the ceiling with a dazed smile. "Well... I enjoyed this Revenge Coitus more than I thought I would" he breathed against her neck. "Me too" Amy weakly answered with the same smile.

Sheldon slipped away from her body and layed down next to her, taking her hand and joining Amy in her ceiling glancing. "The point is..I love make love to you."

Amy turned around and widely smiled at Sheldon. "You were the one who wrote an agreement about our 365 days coitus. If you want to..you can always correct it." she said, with slight voice tone. "Well.." He breathed, while caressing her flat belly. Amy felt chills all over her body as Sheldon's thin fingers lightly brushed her bare skin. "Well?" she repeated, watching him. "Let me write it down on you."

#shamyfanfic #shamyfanfiction #shamyff #shamysmut #the big bang theory #bigbangtheory #big bang theory fanfic #amy farrah fowler #sheldon cooper #sheldon and amy #leonard and penny #lenny #shamy

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sugaranspikes · 7 years

Text

okay, but since I saw the movie today, obviously a Beauty and the Beast au. minor spoilers for the 2017 movie

when jack was young, he dealt with his anxiety behind the scenes while his parents took care of the kingdom. he was expected to become king, to rule, to be an even better monarch than his dad was. which was almost impossible, because everyone LOVED bob with his endless charm and impeccable rule. whereas jack was awkward and hated balls and wished to have been born to any other family, any at all. of course he loved his parents, but the pressure...

and then one day it all changed. his parents were killed in a terrible accident. jack was terrified and in mourning. he thought he’d had longer to train, to be educated in the ways to rule, and suddenly it was all thrust upon him. he tried his best, tried to be as good as his father while putting way too many expectations on himself. panicked and grieving, jack stopped seeing people as people and started seeing them as statistics. he began to lose his humanity as his panic attacks became more frequent, more severe. he became impatient with his subjects, then cruel. he thought what he was doing was the best for the kingdom.

after another sleepless night, of his limbs unable to stop trembling, a beggar came to the door requesting shelter for a single rose. exhausted, angry with his weakness, for the beggar’s gall, he turned her away. she revealed to him that she was an enchantress, and for his icy malice she cursed him to become a Jötunn/ice demon until he could learn to love. His skin turned blue and his features sharpened into those of a frightening monster. He was frosty to the touch and could create snow with the palms of his hands. the castle grounds turned to winter and everyone in the castle became animate objects.

obviously eric is belle, he’s seen as odd because he’s not a man’s man - he doesn’t want to hunt, or drink, and he isn’t pursuing any woman in marriage. It seems all he wants to do is bake. But he’s the friendliest person you’ve ever met, and his features are unique - blonde hair, a button nose, and smooth skin from lack of outdoor work. the women flirt with him, but he doesn’t seem to even notice.

i’m thinking that his moomaw could be the crazy inventor in this one. everyone thinks she’s odd because she’s a woman doing man’s work, but she has quite a bit of money from her inventions so bitty is seen as a catch once his inheritance comes to him. kent is the most popular man in town, with his charm and good looks that are much like bitty’s, and he is determined to marry off his sister to bitty for his wealth. bitty turns down kent’s offer, and kent leaves but swears to get his way.

so the story starts out much the same, with his moomaw going out to show her invention and getting lost and ending up at the castle. he goes to save her and takes her place, and is horrified by the ice demon he encounters. but this bitty is still a sassy bitty and refuses all of jack’s demands of dinner.

he is soon introduced to the animate objects. i’m not 100% on what everybody would be. there definitely wouldn’t be the same group dynamics as the movies, but the one I really like is nursey as the excitable lumière and dex as the stoic cogsworth, constantly battling each other. lardo would be there as maybe a paintbrush? similar to mrs. potts but younger and she takes no nonsense. and of course shitty is the closest to jack, but i haven’t come up with what he would be yet. maybe ransom and holster could be like the piano and wardrobe in the new movie, dying to see each other but forced to be in separate rooms because they aren’t able to move that far to meet. or maybe really annoying door knockers that talk to each other 24/7 and harass guests.

anyway, the usual stuff happens, bitty defies jack and goes into the west wing where the rose is and jack scares him, so he runs out into the woods where the wolves are waiting. jack is able to find him and save him by freezing the wolves, but not before they take a bite out of him. plus using that much ice exhausts him. bitty takes him back to the castle and patches him up, shivering at jack’s icy skin.

they come to an uneasy truce, but then one day bitty finds jack having a panic attack. everyone is getting on his case about bitty, claiming he is the one to break the curse. jack is trying, okay, but they should know he is terrible at being charming and how can this even work bitty is a man and yes he knows he’s attracted to men but that’s not normal, especially not for a king, and bitty is just so attractive and jack just can’t do this-

bitty finds him in a room filled with snow and ice, shivering against the wall, entire body trembling and shaking as he tries to get himself together. bitty pulls a thick blanket into the room and wraps it around them both. he snuggles into jack and as his warmth seeps into the ice monster he is frozen and numb. but he’ll do anything to help stop whatever is happening to jack.

jack eventually calms down, slumping into bitty’s body. his body feels slightly warm for the first time in forever, but he knows bitty must be miserable. he tucks bitty into bed with three blankets on him, whispering a “thank you” into his ear.

jack notices how animated bitty gets around mealtimes. for his kindness, he has a surprise for bitty - an entire kitchen just waiting to be used. the ingredients magically appear, thanks to the curse, and bitty is in heaven among the flour and butter (or whatever they used back then). jack is total heart eyes at this point. the kitchen appliances adore him and the entire castle seems brighter with bitty baking and singing.

bitty and jack get closer, and when they’re walking outside bitty catches jack looking longingly at the frozen pond. with gentle persuasion he reveals that when he was younger, going out on the ice in his bone and leather skates was one of the things that calmed him down when he was feeling anxious. he even, he admitted shyly, invented a little game with sticks and a flat rock. bitty insists they try skating right that second, and they spend the day playing on the ice as the animate objects look on in wonder. jack even creates some snowballs using his hands and they play a game of tag. bitty finds himself having fun, and watching the way the sun glints off of jack’s bladelike cheekbones. he inhales sharply, his cheeks turning red from more than the cold. eventually he admits to jack that he prefers men, and that’s why he hasn’t found himself a wife. jack’s heart almost stops, and he’s quick to assure bitty that he’s never really had a preference either way.

the rest of the story proceeds in the normal way. they have a ball, and though there’s no iconic dress for bitty, he rests his cheek on jack’s frozen chest, and they both feel warm inside. jack hesitantly asks if bitty’s happy there, and bitty is...but he misses his moomaw like a missing limb. jack offers his magic mirror and bitty sees his moomaw being taken away to the asylum. he cries out in despair, and jack lets him go, with the mirror to remember him by. he tells his friends, and tearfully apologizes for not being able to save them. they assure him they know he tried his best, and that all they could have asked. it was what they were trying to tell him the entire time - he can’t control everything, and not everything that happens in life is his fault.

bitty is in time to save his moomaw, but once he shows everyone jack’s face in the mirror kent goes on a rampage. he impresses to bitty that he will fix everything if he marries kent’s sister and turns over his inheritance, but bitty is quick to say “if she’s anything like you, I’d be marrying a monster”.

the townspeople storm the castle and jack attempts to fight back (my one pet peeve with the movie) because for once he has something to fight for. if not for bitty, for his friends and loved ones. he’s about to lose to kent when he hears bitty call his name, and he’s able to gain the strength to overpower kent. jack orders him to leave and never return, and turns to meet bitty, but kent attacks him again before falling to his death.

jack collapses, and bitty falls next to him. he’s able to breathe “you came back”, while looking at bitty like he’s the most important thing in the universe. bitty is crying when he says “of course I came back”. jack smiles. “at least I got to see you one last time.”

jack breathes out his last breath, but not before bitty whispers “please don’t go. I love you.”

the curse is broken, and jack is enveloped in a heavenly light. when he is released, he is the most gorgeous man bitty has ever seen. he looks like jack, his cheekbones still sharp as a blade, but no longer deformed. His skin has returned to it’s peachy hue, his hair to inky black. Only his ice blue eyes remain the same.

they are euphoric, and when they kiss the castle is returned to it’s former glory. the staff is human again, and the memory of their king is returned to the townspeople. kent’s body is probably picked up by magic, idk.

euphoric but trembling, jack tells bitty that he doesn’t know if he can do this again. bitty only smiles and tells him that the kingdom lasted 10 years without his rule, he’s sure they can deal with him being a more hands-off king. jack has never loved him more.

they marry, and while it takes a while for the people to get used to, jack is their king, and whatever the king does is right. besides, who doesn’t love a monarchy who throws balls on the regular and serves them baked goods by the prince? the kingdom thrives, and everyone lives happily ever after.

#THIS WAS WAY LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE #but i watched this movie today #both movies actually #and I wanted to do my take on it #with jotunn jack #and weird gay baker bitty #omgcp #zimbits #beauty and the beast #beauty and the beast au #kent parson #tw: death #but like fairytale death

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