#I remember seeing beautiful lightning turning the sky a pure white and feeling scared yet finding it equally beautiful.
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For a Smile
Type: One-shot, Reader Insert Word count: 5400
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, OC x reader (brief)
Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader, OFC, OC
Summary: You see him run past every morning. So you smile, because he looks like a nice person. How could he not be when he smiles back and the world stops for a while to pay respect to such beauty?
And sometimes… sometimes this incredibly handsome man smiles first.
Warnings: mentions and hints of (psychically) abusive relaionship, suggestive themes, swearing, all the fluff in the world
A/N: I used to pass this guy near a café playing music every morning when I went to school and at some point, our eyes kinda met and we smiled at each other; then we did that every day.
I kid you not, he’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. It’s not a Hollywood-star smile, no – it’s a guy-next-door smile, heart-warming, with his eyes simply shining. He’s like a kid on Christmas Day… I could ramble on.
Anyway, just so you knew what brought this on.
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A smile costs less than electricity, and gives more light. (Scottish proverb)
Warm honey, sandstone and apricot orange melting into indigo, cerulean blue and stone-grey sky. Merigold playing with salmon and rose pink, teasing each other and making space to the warmer shades of orange.
You watched the beautiful colours of sunrise as you shifted your legs for a bit, causing the simple plank hanging on two tattered ropes sway, a smile tugging on your lips.
It was a little childish really, or it may appear so to anyone who would be passing by; but given what an early riser you were, just so you could watch this breath-taking game of colours, the little miracle of nature, no person could question you as you were dangling your feet off the old swing.
On your way to work, if the time allowed it, you would always make a stop on your favourite spot; a no-name park in upstate New York you were walking through every day, rather calm and drunks-free at the early hour.
Once upon a time, someone had placed a simple swing on one of the trees farther from the path. You sent a silent thank you every time you parked your behind there. You weren’t a monster; if a kid wanted to sit here, you would have gladly (...reluctantly) made space for them, but they seemed to always be more mesmerized by the playground with the actual swings, the chutes, the monkey bars and the sandpit. You couldn’t say you complained though, having the old-fashioned swing for yourself.
It was childish, perhaps; though your mother had once chosen that you should be going into accounting and so you had. Numbers and bills were things even adults hated, but that was what being old enough meant. You didn’t mind it too often, plunging into them for living, but… you needed to compensate, so you felt entitled.
Plus, the motion of the swing was soothing, as if magically transporting you back to your childhood indeed, with less worries, more ease and pure mind.
Yeah, sitting on the swing was your favouri-
Rapid staccato of feet hitting the ground in the distance, no doubt scaring off the birds chiming their morning songs, reached your ears and you had to admit you wouldn’t be completely honest with yourself if you said this was the favourite moment of your day only because of the aforementioned reasons.
There was one more.
It had strong long sweatpants-clad legs, broad shoulders in a sports t-shirt with seams crying for help, blond hair and-
Your heart melted along with your brain as your lips curled up in a genuine smile you sent in return.
-and the most beautiful smile in the whole universe.
You never spoke. Didn’t say hello. You never even nodded in mutual acknowledgement.
You just… smiled at each other.
And that was your favourite moment of the day crafted to perfection. A breath-taking sunrise, almost eclipsed by a mesmerizing display of the row of perfect white teeth framed by plush coral red lips and the twinkle in beautiful inviting eyes of a stranger.
You knew his name despite never exchanging a single word. Everyone knew his name. But Captain Rogers – Steven Grant Rogers – was a name that held no meaning. He didn’t know yours and probably never would; so strangers was who you were. A couple of strangers exchanging a smile every morning and lightening up (hopefully) each other’s day.
It always felt nice when you glanced at someone on the street, then just… somehow smiled and they smiled back, didn’t it? So what if you were an adult woman dealing with numbers for Stark Industries sitting on a swing and he was a deservedly treasured national icon?
It made no difference.
Just two people sharing a tiny piece of their day for a smile.
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“You’re insane,” your colleague stated dryly as she walked into the office at seven thirty, already finding you with an empty coffee cup, your fingers flying over the keyboard.
“Huh?” you raised your eyes from the screen on autopilot, not really paying attention.
You still noticed Harry rolling her eyes; it was just that distinctive.
“I said that you’re insane, you crazy-ass lark. My brain isn’t even awake yet. To be fair, I’m ninety percent sure I met Captain Handsome in the hall along with our boss, so it’s hard to tell if I’m dreaming or not, having a vision like that.”
“Captain Handsome?” you frowned, your mind racing, desperately trying to remember who was Harriet’s newest crush. ‘Captain Handsome’ could be literally anyone.
“Our resident Star-Spangled Man, you dummy. You’re low on caffeine. Or sleep. That’s what you get, getting up in such an ungodly hour…” she hummed, crossing her arms on her chest as she looked at you sceptically, a drop of disappointment in her eyes.
Oh. Oh! That made sense; if the man was with Tony Stark, the range of options narrowed significantly, especially since your friend had called him a captain. Except it didn’t make any sense at all.
“What was he doing here? I mean… since when is he wandering in our department? It’s all across the compound here from the training area.”
“Well, look who’s actually awake and bright-minded…” It was your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “My point exactly. No clue, but lemme tell you – seeing that ass? Definitely made my day,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the coffee machine and you couldn’t but chuckle at her bluntness.
Your stranger had an amazing smile, that was true. But your gaze did slide elsewhere on occasion too; which was why you would never try to disprove Harry’s claim.
“We might have the Ironman for a boss, but, girl… I’d like to know what Rogers’ ass is made of then,” she added and you burst into another fit of giggles, your face feeling hot all of sudden when your mind unhelpfully supplied with ‘vibranium’.
What would it feel like?
Yeah, you definitely needed to go back to your numbers before your impure thoughts got the best of you.
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The first time you two met outside the park, you were in a bar.
You hadn’t seen him for almost a month, assuming he went on a long-drawn mission; one that had ended well, clearly, since he was out drinking. Just eyeing his companions and instantly noting his body language, you could tell he was suffering. Like, not literally suffering, but it was very much obvious he was not feeling comfortable.
His eyes were drifting all over the place, as Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes laughed loudly, patting his shoulders while a hint or red dusted his cheeks, and then they fell on you.
His face was screaming ‘save me!’; yet, his smile was still as warm and kind as ever, an impossible spark within his irises, visible even from the distance. That twinkle was always the biggest mystery to you, because logically, no person could have eyes so bright, but here he was, proving your claim wrong.
Your lips spread in a smile automatically and encouraged by your second drink, you considered adding a small silly wave.
Before you could execute the decision, the result of your two last braincells arguing whether it would be more silly or sweet, an arm sneaked around your shoulders and your smile widened on instinct at the sensation. You turned your head to Cade and met his lips halfway to yours.
You had been dating for almost a month now and this inconspicuous guy from logistic of a giant company that was surprisingly not Stark Industries was a dream coming true. He was showering you with so much attention you weren’t sure he was real. Late-night conversations via phonecalls or texts, good morning, good night, kisses that lasted long enough for you to forget that you in fact needed oxygen, touches that set you on fire. He was easy to fall in love with.
“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout that got you smilin’ so wide, babe?” he whispered to your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth.
Gosh, you wanted him. The first sex hadn’t been so great, Cade chasing his own release, but hey, first times were always hard in a new relationship. The more were you excited about your second time and you were confident the second time would happen tonight.
“Nah, just smiling at strangers. You know that feeling, so nice, when you just toss a smile and they smile back?” your eyes found his, only to see him frown.
“I like it better when you smile for me, babe. What did some stranger do for you to deserve that?” he hummed discontentedly, pouting adorably as his hand slid lower to squeeze your hip possessively. It sent a spark through your body, a lightning striking right into your core.
“Just teasing you, Cade. I was thinking about how I lucked out,” you batted your eyelashes and a slow delicious smirk played with the corner of his mouth all of sudden, intensifying the heat inside of you.
“Wanna get out of here, pretty thing? Lemme show you how lucky you are?” he whispered, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, pulling it down a fraction. “Or maybe… show me how much you think you lucked out, huh? How much you appreciate being mine?”
God, yes.
Judging by the glint in his eyes and the hungry kiss that lasted too short – but too long for such a public place – he didn’t need a verbal confirmation. He swung by the bar to pay for your drink and practically dragged you out of the rather crowded space. Your head was spinning a bit and you couldn’t tell whether it was excitement or alcohol. Either way, you really, really liked it.
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“You know that Cade was a dick right?” Harry noted nonchalantly while she handed you a cup of coffee and assessed (correctly) that you were sulking again, thinking back to that one particular night when you had noticed the first sign – or you would have if you hadn’t been such a goddamn idiotic goose of a woman, drunk on top of that.
You sighed and sipped your punishingly bitter dose of caffeine.
You were positively brooding and you didn’t care if it affected anyone else. The world apparently hated you and you couldn’t quite blame it.
Not even your precious strangers-exchanging-smile moments felt the same anymore. First, your stranger had started smiling less brightly after your encounter at the bar and then, even if it had changed, you wouldn’t be able to tell, because you were too wrapped in your own misery. Even the curve of his lips looked sad, which was a stupid thing to say, because he had no way of knowing about either Cade turning out to be an abuser-in-making or about you breaking things off with him and cracking your fragile heart in the process, while yelling at yourself mentally every morning and still longing for Cade’s arms around you since it always felt oh, oh so good to be held…
You recognized the signs early, but not soon enough. You let it escalate into him trying to control when you went out and with whom, him lashing out when you wouldn’t respond to his text in longer than five-minutes time, letting him yell at you when you missed his call… he loved you, after all, he just missed you and was afraid you were with someone else, and oh babe, come here, you can make it up to me…
Your sister had gone through something similar, for god’s sake. You should have noticed sooner. You should have known better. But no, you had allowed your body, your twat to be precise, to rule your brain and that had been stupid.
Cade had tried to get in touch several times after your break-up, even waiting in front of your apartment until you would go out once; you might have threatened him with a restraining order after that particular day and he had stopped quickly after that, only two of three attempts with a new e-mail address and number to get pass you blocking his previous ones.
Still. It made you miserable. And perhaps a bit self-hateful.
You deserved every bitter drop of Harry’s horrible coffee and more.
“I was being blind and stupid,” you opposed and returned to your figures, deciding your exchange was over. Figures were clear enough; they were easy to read and didn’t make your brain drunk on endorphins and other very specific hormones allowing you to act like a teenage girl, excited at her first boyfriend groping her. “Thanks for the coffee.”
A huff sounded above your head and suddenly your swivel chair was being yanked back and turned around, a pair of strict chocolate eyes boring into your soul with startling clarity. Harry’s fingers were wrapped around the armrests as she was leaning into your space.
You backed into your chair instinctively. She looked menacing.
“He was a charming bastard from what I heard and his type always knows how to manipulate people, letting them see what he wants them to see. It’s not your fault. You’re one badass of a woman, smart as hell for noticing before it escalated. You’re my hero. Mine and every other person’s who has ever been in or even heard of an abusive relationship. You can do better than him. It’s a funny coincidence they spelled his name wrong anyway.”
You blinked away your sudden tears, immensely grateful for her words that somehow wormed their way inside your very core (you blamed the intense stare that reminded of your mother’s when she was giving you the kind of talk that was too serious for you to handle) and yet you tilted your head in confusion, not understanding the meaning of her last statement.
“Huh? His… his name?” you stuttered, baffled.
Harry positioned your chair back to its place with a grin and went back to her own business.
“Clearly, they added an ‘E’ at the end. What a stupid typo…” she threw over her shoulder cheekily and when you caught up, understanding her point, you released the first honest laughter in what felt like a year.
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Your life had been set off to better course after that short conversation. You felt like you were healing every day, finding yourself lighter. Happier. Freer of the baggage Cade had tried to left you with. The sensation was indescribable and it radiated from you; some days more noticeably than others.
You found yourself indulging the blond stranger’s smiles once more, finally seeing the spark in his eyes again, the genuine curve of his lips warming your heart and starting off your day in the best way imaginable.
Naturally, life had a reliable means of showing you it could suck.
Right when you thought that you were fine, it delivered another blow; your favourite place in the world… ceased to exist.
Someone put the swing in the park down.
They just… erased it from existence.
Maybe they considered it dangerous. Maybe they were being dicks. Maybe they thought it was old and ugly. It didn’t quite matter.
You could weep, mourning your intimate inanimate friend.
You didn’t cry. But it was a damn close call as you shuffled towards the playground and eyed it sceptically. You knew it wouldn’t be the same and not just because the swings were in a plain sight, but they also looked too fancy, to actually child-like and— they weren’t your swing. Your sanctuary. Your private space. Your secret place you never told anyone about, not Cade or your previous boyfriends, not your family, not Harry or other friends, not to anyone.
You watched the sun rise on the horizon, ridiculously heavy feeling in your chest, ignorant to the rest of the world.
God, you hated Mondays. You already knew this week was about to be a disaster.
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“There’s a swing outside in the green area.”
“Huh?” you hummed distractedly, too deep into figures to register more than the sound of your friend’s voice. What was her name again? What was yours? What day was today? What was the time? Had you already had lunch? Had the lunch-time already passed…?
A chuckle followed by a to-be offended tone responded to your intelligent way of communicating.
“I’m starting to think ‘Huh’ is my name with how often you call me that,” Harry (aha!) remarked with a hint of sass, but repeated herself, because she knew she shouldn’t take it personal that you didn’t quite payed her any attention. You were a person who would get sucked into their own world, too focused on one task to acknowledge anything else. “A swing. In our compound park. It’s kinda cute, hidden from a plain sight though, a simple wooden thing.”
You slowly raised your eyes to hers, your pupils widening with surprise. Your pulse was roaring in your ears, your heartbeat no doubt shaking your whole frame.
Harry was telling you that there was… a swing. In the compound area. Hidden from everyone’s prying eyes, at least partly.
Why?
How?
You could only come up with one ridiculous theory which involved you, but that idea alone was laughable. Why would anyone do that for you? More importantly, how did anyone know-
“You think it’s an invitation for children? Like, is ‘bring your kids to work’ day happening any time soon? ‘cause, not to be rude and greedy, but one swing doesn’t seem like— hey!” Harry called after you, but you could barely hear her as you jumped to your feet, your heels be damned, and strode through the halls with zero regards to anyone in your way.
Not that there was a soul; people actually worked around here, too busy to wander the halls.
The thing was, that one theory about the swing didn’t just involve you. It involved one more person, but that person was a stranger to you and had no reason to even… acknowledge you. Besides the obvious part of your day that no longer existed – not in the way it used to. But the thought was simply laughable.
A different part of your brain raised a figurative sceptical eyebrow, argumenting that you had no better explanation for the phenomenon.
Because… you loved Harry. She knew about your traditional early morning watching the sunrise, but not about the swing. The swing was always a secret, no one knew, except… except one particular guy who always passed you on his morning run and exchanged a smile with you and just happened to work at the very same compound you did and technically had the power to pull the strings to make this happen.
With your heart hammering in your chest, you gasped for fresh air when you finally made it out of the building, your eyes searching for a calm spot, a tree in whose shades you could possibly find a prove of Harry not pulling your leg.
Your heart positively stopped when your eyes fell on the simple plank hanging on two ropes, indeed offering a safe space for anyone who decided to sit there in search for serenity.
You felt tears stinging in your eyes, your feet moving of their own will despite semi-high heels digging into the ground an inch with each step, bringing you closer to that little, yet breath-taking miracle. A chuckle escaped your lips when your trembling fingers brushed the grey ropes, more of your senses acknowledging that this was in fact happening.
Your hand followed the line of the rope, sliding to the plank, only to notice a rough sensation on your fingertips in the corner. A carving, you realized.
Tears of surprise actually welled up when you recognized they were initials. Your initials.
How-- how was that possible?
‘Sit down, you dummy!’ your consciousness cried out exasperatedly. ‘It’s clearly for you!’
“But why?” you asked it under your breath incredulously, thousands of questions ruminating, no answers on the horizon.
Regardless, you reluctantly lowered yourself, shocked when your feet dangled above the ground in precisely the same way they used to-- they used to in the park. It was even installed in the same height.
Reverently, you gave the swing a test-drive, just tiny motions of your feet to try it out.
It was perfect.
Your gaze fell on a sign on the tree trunk, small, subtle and harmonizing with the place without a fault.
Sanctuary of the kind ones. Do not disturb, it read.
You giggled breathlessly, lightheaded and with no care in the world.
That naturally changed when you spotted your very much expectant colleague in the distance, her arms crossed on her chest, figuratively tapping her foot and screaming questions without saying a single word.
The thing is, you thought, I have no idea how to answer.
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Perhaps it was naïve, a child-like trust and excitement, but the next day, you went to your new spot expecting to enjoy the sunrise there and not to be disturbed indeed.
You weren’t.
What you couldn’t quite prepare yourself for was the single daisy lying on the wood, starling you to no end. Hesitating all of sudden, you searched your surroundings, wondering if you interrupted someone else’s plan. Perhaps someone had the same initials as you and whoever made this happen had a different person in mind, doing it for them and the swing was just a funny coincidence.
But then in the middle of your mussing – on the swing, because, screw it, you might as well enjoy this since no one had kicked you out yet – a familiar figure ran past, gracing you with a beautiful smile, once again without a word and with a shy gaze falling to the ground after you met their eyes. With that, it… actually started to settle.
He had done this for you. For some incredible inexplicable reason… your smiling ‘stranger’ offered you a kindness of unseen measures.
And as if it wasn’t enough, you would find a different flower on the wood every day for the whole week. They weren’t even fancy flowers, which made it absolutely magical. Daisy. Tulip. Lilly. No red roses, only cute blossoms, matching the simplicity of the swing.
Harry was nearing the verge of insanity due to your goofy smiles and flowers in your hands; but you remained tight-lipped like an international spy during an interrogation, too afraid that if you said it out loud, sharing that ridiculous impression you were getting these days with anyone, your bubble would burst.
And surely enough, as if you jinxed it mentally, the next Wednesday, no flower waited for you.
It was ridiculous how your mood died instantly. It could have had hundreds of explanations including the one that he went for a mission, because he was Captain Freaking America, in case your stupid heart forgot, but nope, you would still feel the corners of your lips turn down.
You watched the shades of orange bleeding into blue and grey, lost in thought and with unsettling longing in your heart.
You suspected his steps sounded purposely loud when they came from behind you, where you wouldn’t expect them. You didn’t need to see the familiar Nikes on his feet to know it was him; you doubted anyone else would approach you, let alone at such early hour.
Yet you would lie saying your heart didn’t skip a beat when he stopped in his slow tracks by your side, steady feet next to your dangling ones, and you had his identity confirmed.
Your throat went dry and stiff, your voice dying before it could form.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered reverently, not disturbing the peace of the indeed lovely scenery in front of you.
You didn’t dare to look away from the sunrise as your voice came out unfairly scratchy, a stark contrast to his deep and smooth one that felt like a caress on your skin.
“It is.”
Silence fell on your pair again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The birds sung their morning songs, waking up the world and you didn’t think words were needed. Except you owed him something, and you wanted to say it.
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from the painting by the most amazing artist, the nature itself, you casted a glance at him.
You didn’t realize you had never seen him still; duh, you did know that, but what didn’t quite click in your brain was that you would be able to see him in all his glory, soft smile and an absent gaze framed by long eyelashes, shadows casted all over his face and body, playing games which gave him a surprisingly ethereal aura for a man of his built.
Your stomach tied itself into a knot at the sight and the ‘thank you’ got once again stuck in your throat when his eyes turned to you as well, you breath stolen from your lungs, your lips parting uselessly and curling into a smile on instinct when his did.
Despite seeing the too startling sparkle up close, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the deep blue with a hint of green of his irises. It was just too captivating, locking you in a sweet cage you didn’t feel trapped in, but free and suddenly able to breathe in again.
“Thank you,” slipped from your lips unwittingly, shocking to your own ears.
The very same hint of scarlet you remembered from the infamous bar encounter dusted his cheeks, his smile softening as he turned a bashful gaze away, now fixated on the ground.
“Just wanted to see you smile again. Best part of my day,” he admitted, peeking at you from the insanely long and thick eyelashes and you could melt on spot, dizzying vertigo overcoming you at the sweet words. Good thing you were sitting.
You had no idea how to respond, your heartbeat thumping in your temples, your face feeling too hot and chest pleasantly warm at such admission. Your teeth went to chew on your lip and you abruptly stopped yourself. Bad, bad habit.
“Was… was that the only thing? Because the swing would be more than enough, let alone with my initials, and the flowers-“
“Maybe-“ he softly interrupted your lame attempt at flirting which had turned into a babble, but with same nerves coursing his voice unless your senses were playing tricks on you. A shiver ran down your spine at the realization that he might be as nervous as you were-- the strangest thing in the world, wouldn’t it be? “Maybe I could tell you… over a coffee?”
A daffodil entered your field of vision, happy, bright and yet somehow shy in his big hand and you didn’t think twice before accepting it, your fingers brushing his skin in the process only half-accidentally. Passing you the flower, he offered you a hand so he could assist you in standing up.
Ah, as if he knew your knees felt wobbly and uncooperating with the overwhelming turn of events.
You didn’t hesitate to accept that either. You had a hunch that the manners of a forties’ man would be offended if you didn’t anyway.
“Thank you. Again.”
The twinkle in his eyes shone brighter at your words, his smile widening.
“My pleasure.”
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“If I trip over something, I’ll bully you into carrying me everywhere for the next month,” you threatened in a joking manner as your boyfriend of one year led you through his apartment with his huge palm sprawled over your eyes, while his other gently rested on your lower back, making sure you maintained some balance.
“I wouldn’t complain about that. Are you serious? Because I just might let you trip then…” he teased back and you could hear the grin in his voice, mesmerized by the happy note in it. You would roll your eyes at him fondly, but he wouldn’t see it, so there was no point.
“Don’t you dare…”
“Okay, let’s stop now,” he whispered in your ear, his hand shifting to your hip to squeeze lightly, causing you to shiver. You and Steve had taken your time when it came to physical aspect of your relationship (past certain bases anyway), so a touch like that still sent a delicious electrifying feeling through your whole body.
As if you weren’t excited enough ever since the moment he had told you he had had a surprise for you.
Chewing on your lower lip, you followed his gentle instruction and stopped in your tracks.
“Should I be afraid?” you asked for the fourth time in the past five minutes.
“Terrified,” he confirmed in a joking manner. “You ready?”
Not waiting for your answer, he uncovered your eyes and with a deep inhale, you snapped them open.
Only for your breath to hitch at the sight in front of you.
“Oh my god... it’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, a surprised chuckle escaping past your lips.
In the corner of the living room, soft marigold pillows laid in a circular hammock chair coloured in the indigo of an early sunrise, practically begging for you to jump in and nestle there with a book and relax.
Instantly reminded of how you met Steve in the first place, you couldn’t but spun on your heels and threw your arms around him, strong arms eagerly welcoming you as his chest shook with hushed chuckle.
“Glad you like it,” he murmured, hiding his face in your hair, raising you from the floor effortlessly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Happy anniversary, Steve. This truly is amazing. I love it!”
“But not more than me?”
It was your turn to chuckle as you retreated, placing a kiss on his nose and earning a pout that simply had to be kissed away.
“No, Steve, not even this amazing hammock compares to you. I’ll show you exactly how much I love you in a sec, I just have to test it out,” you promised.
He released you with no protest and watched with a fond smile as you climbed in with a child-like excitement, the corners of his eyes twinkling. He slowly made his way to you as the hammock swung gently with your weight and you sent him a delighted grin as he sat on his heels in front of you, his hands landing on the edges so he had the control over the movements.
“What’s the verdict?” he pried softly and you opened your mouth to respond with enough enthusiasm to power the state of New York for a year; but he continued. ”Is it comfy enough for you to… make you consider- that maybe-- you could… stay here more often?”
Your breath hitched, your throat swelling when you got a pretty good idea of what he was asking from his serious gaze. Yet, you needed to make sure, butterflies in your stomach flipping their wings wildly as you leaned forward, invisible magnets pulling you towards him.
“And by ‘more often’ you mean-“
“All the time,” he whispered, his eyes roaming your face nervously, trying to spy a reaction, read the answer in your expression alone.
You chuckled incredulously, ecstatic at such proposition, and placed your palms to both sides of Steve’s face, grateful for his grip on the hammock and trusting him not to let you faceplant on him with how hazardous the kiss you gave him was.
Your eyelids fluttered close, but you felt his smile as his lips engaged in a tender dance with yours, one of his hands sneaking to the side of your neck to pull you closer, tilting your head as his tongue teased your lips to part.
How could you deny him anything even when you felt like you were about to fall face-down any second? He would be under you when you landed anyway. What more could you wish for-
“I love you,” he breathed to your mouth as he broke the kiss for one damned second that felt like eternity; one second in which you forgot to suck more air in even when given the opportunity. Who needed oxygen anyway? You could breathe Steve in and live blissfully, it was what you were trying to do for the past minute and it was glorious- “That’s a yes, right?”
A chuckle escaped you as you dodged another kiss, his lips landing in your hair instead, the hammock swaying hazardously. Mm, seemed like your supersoldier was too distracted to watch your balance.
“Yes. The hammock totally convinced me,” you teased him lightly, an idea striking you when you said those words. Climbing down as he was still sitting in front of you on his heels, you lowered yourself on him, nestling in his lap and leaning to his ear and sharing your not necessarily filthy thought in a breathless whisper. “But I think I still like sitting right here much better.”
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S.R. masterlist
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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart
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Thank you for reading :-*
P.S. - Keep smiling; at the people you love whenever you can, at strangers and at the person you see in the mirror :))
#marvel#fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers fanfiction#mcu#captain america fanfiction#captain america x reader#captain america imagine#reader insert#fluff#one-shot#steve rogers oneshot#captain america oneshot#avengers#captain america#for a smile#anika ann
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HOSTIS, Chapter XVIII: Renuntiatio, Resignation
Previous Chapter (XVII.5: Inevitabilis)
Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)
Genre (by chapter): drama, angst, finally some fucking good smut where they aren’t trying to kill each other good GOD these two piss me off so much
Category: Short Novel/Long Series
“tell me you love me, because i know i do, and there’s nothing i can do about it.”
the door swings open like the gates of hell -- maybe heaven -- and for once in your life, you’ve never felt more comforted being greeted by lucifer’s eyes.
his lids were hooded, and there was a splatter of liquid on his shirt. the odor of alcohol wafts out between his lips and slaps you across the face in the form of a gush of wind.
“why the fuck are you--”
the pure force of your heart shoves you forward; the nerves in your body wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your feet should’ve cramped with the amount of effort you were using to tip-toe.
the sting of whiskey dilutes onto your tongue, the bitter taste of him and the alcohol mixing like drugs on your taste buds. your weight shoves him backwards into the house, and his arms were awkwardly held out by his sides for a few seconds.
but his warmth encapsulates you like a blanket around your waist, and some saltiness shoves its way between your lips where you were joined.
you weren’t sure whose it was, but you were tasting tears of joy, tears of love, tears of resignation.
resignation.
were they yours?
you pull away and you see the tears streaming down his face despite that cold facade you’ve made friends with in the last three days. the words and thoughts form on your tongue before you could process them, and they startle you so much that it drills tremors down your spine.
“tell me you love me, because i know i do, and there’s nothing i can do about it.”
desperation fills your heart when you search his eyes, hoping that he would understand, hoping that he wouldn’t break out into maniacal laughter, hoping that all the heartache he’s caused you the last three days was as painful as it was for him.
his heart was racing in his chest, the gentle thumping seeping through the pores of your palm and into your blood. his face shows a lack of acknowledgement, and you wait for him to crush the rest of your spirit in his hands.
for a moment, you were scared.
did he win this war?
but his palms cup your cheeks all too suddenly.
he shoves his lips between yours so harshly, so tightly, so desperately.
his teeth knocks against yours and one arm wraps itself around your waist like he was holding you from falling off a cliff. a free arm finds the front door and he pushes you back against it as he swings it close.
the sharp snap of thunder rings outside the house, yet it does nothing to you, not while you were in his hold.
the cotton under your hands were strangely alien, because all you wanted to do was to touch him. the material gets crumpled in your grasp, as if he wasn’t already compressing your entire body between the hardness of the wooden door and his warmth.
if your heart was a glass vase with cracks, then this was filling up those gaps with gold.
“kintsugi” they called it. the japanese art of using gold to fix cracks and imperfections in pottery.
when exactly did your heart become so organic? what was it that incited this change? where was it that fate decided you needed ares, not aphrodite? how did your spirit of ares turn into something so fragile?
answers were lost in the intimacy that rushed through your arteries, and hyunjae sighs into your mouth, allowing you to taste more of the whiskey he was drinking, supposedly because of you.
the kisses felt like feathers, but having the burn of the whiskey on your tongue tears your insides apart like ripping wings off an angel.
it really does feel like something was speared through your lungs, but his lips on yours felt like heaven-born puzzle pieces.
it felt like two white doves soaring in the sky. it felt like cherry blossoms blooming in spring.
it felt like you were finally finding comfort in a thunderstorm.
was he really drinking because of you? or was he--
“i love you.”
lightning brightens the entire house for a split moment, and the following clap of the thunder shakes both you and your already quivering eyes.
“...what?”
the shine in his eyes crushes your already broken soul, and you couldn’t decide if you were more afraid of what he was going to say next, or how you were going to react.
a muscle in his nose twitches, and your trembling hand finds his face where the streaks of tears were still gleaming under the light of his house. eyelashes fluttering shut as he grips your hand on his cheek, nestling his nose and lips into your palm and sucking in a deep breath; it breaks your heart to see him like this.
he must be breaking on the inside, maybe even more than you.
his skin melts into yours and the muscles in the back of your jaw tightens when his slightly swollen eyes look into yours, something in his spirit so broken, and it was all because of you.
“i don’t care if you’ve done anything unforgivable in your past life for fate to put us in the same place after a decade... all i know is that you asked me to tell you that i love you, and i do.”
those words.
he remembers every single word.
every word uttered because you wanted to hurt him, because you hated him, because there was nothing in the world that would allow you to tolerate being within in his reach.
yet you were standing here, fingers caressing his tear-streaked face, feeling ache and heartbreak rip through you because he was hurting.
“and now that i’ve said it...” another flash of from mother nature lights up the space while hyunjae presses kisses onto your palm, trailing down your wrist and forearms. “hopefully i heard you right too.”
the sneaky, mischievous smirk somehow finds its way onto his lips and it was a baffling sight to see hyunjae collect himself so quickly.
one moment he was crumbling within your hold, because you said you loved him, drinking because he was ripped at the edges at the thought of you being with eric.
but now, this was the man you recognised.
had you filled in the cracks in his heart with gold? do you now finally see how beautiful he was? or have you been blinded by love, fuelled by hatred... for someone you never thought you’d love?
you were the one who put the cracks and chipped off bits and pieces of him, but you were also the gold that held him together.
zeus would strike you with one of his lightning bolts if you even considered denying that it was the same for you.
the distance hyunjae drew between the two of you in the last week was subconsciously tightening a noose around your neck. without him around to rile you up, to continuously pick and tease at your little wrongdoings, to catch you off guard with kisses felt like death on its own.
but you preferred death if it meant he still planted poisonous, threatening kisses on your lips. you preferred death if he held you close because he knew it made your body yearn for him, even if your consciousness refused to admit it.
you preferred death over losing ares.
you are half of a whole, and you are not whole without him.
“nothing kills me more than to say his name, but...” there was a pinch of reluctance in his voice, not because he was upset, but because he was competitive. the ares inside you lights up when he leaves your arms on his shoulders and he nose dips into your neck. “i knew eric wasn’t the one for you, he’s too soft for your liking...”
“kitten.”
the laughter that exits your throat felt like a stranger, felt like drinking alcohol for the first time, felt like bliss from drinking poison, if he even was poison.
“lee hyunjae...” his scent starts to intoxicate your senses, and the soft, feathery kisses on your neck turns you into some sort of a marshmellow, waiting to melt in his warm hold. “when will you ever leave me alone?”
silence befalls the two of you, the minimum space between the two of your faces only offering heavy breaths and lustful eyes amidst love and completion. hyunjae removes his face from your neck and he angles his head into yours, lips already brushing against yours.
“never.”
the cotton of his collar gets gripped so tightly in your hold that it crumples into almost nothing against your touch.
have you ever felt so right just kissing someone? just having him in your hold? tasting him from your tongue and feeling him in every nerve under the skin that was pressed against his?
hyunjae was smiling into the kiss and it makes you want to tear up as well, but he doesn’t really give you to the time to process his happiness, for he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist.
the soft strands on his head get tangled around your fingers, and your eyes were shut so blissfully just from having the feeling of his lips on yours. the lingering venom of the whiskey was no more, because it was replaced with the sweetness that was coming off your tongue and onto his. maybe it was the other way around, but it didn’t matter.
how do you describe the feeling of melting into someone’s existence?
was it one sided? or was his soul dissolving into yours through the hold he’s got on your rear, where the back of your upper arms were resting on his shoulders, where your lips were connected like they were glued together and could never be torn apart?
the soft cushion of the mattress greets your back and the overwhelming scent of him intoxicates you further. you felt so high and drunk off just kissing him, all you wanted him to do was to roam his hands all over you like he did before.
he had already claimed you, you were just too afraid to see it.
his jaw lines so perfectly along the curves on your fingers when he returns from shutting the door. thunder claps right outside the window, and the flash of lightning seemed to add oil to the fire, his fire, and yours.
the warmth on his neck pools into your finger pads when he tenderly slots his lips between yours again.
“finally.”
breathy air hits the skin below your ear, and a soft sigh escapes your lips.
“you’re finally mine, kitten.”
if there was some kind of world record award you could award hyunjae, it would’ve been his ability to hit you in places with words, but send you into a complete frenzy with his touch.
“all mine.”
you would’ve hated it had he said it anytime before this, but now, all it did was make you whimper and squirm under his weight.
the flesh on your neck gets sucked between his teeth, and a harsh gasp pulls a smile across your face.
the blood rushes to the surface of your skin where you know he was just busy remaking all his marks on you where he wanted them to be; probably where you wanted them to be too.
the warmth emitting from his palms run up the length of your torso like it had been years since he’s touched you, when in reality it’s been only one week.
but you knew how long it felt, because it did feel like he hasn’t touched you in a year.
the white, plastic buttons on his shirt start to get undone despite your eyes being sealed shut, and he lets you run your hands down his chest.
the smooth complexion hammers chills throughout your body; a physical reminder that you missed him even if you couldn’t admit it.
the sound of the rain starts to roar outside, the howl of the wind seeping through the gaps of the window by his bedside.
it was like the heavens were throwing one hell of a party to celebrate the unity of two areses; two areses who have spent most of their lives fighting one another.
his shirt comes off, leaving you to gape and gawk at the veins travelling from his chest into his arms because he had been holding his weight over you.
impatience immediately replaces your blood when you sit up in an instant, fingers hooking onto his belt hoops as you pull yourself to your knees.
your arms find his bare shoulders and your thighs press against his, despite your knees digging into the cushion of the mattress. he smiles again, and it only evokes an overwhelming sensation of wholeness; completion.
your waist gets hugged in his embrace and your chest was pressed flat against his, the kiss feeling like it should last for a long time, if not, forever.
the zipper on the back of your top gets tugged on, and he breaks away to gently remove it over your head. the kiss continues like it wasn’t interrupted, and his thumb starts to draw hot circles on your lower spine.
your arms were folded across each other behind his neck, keeping him tightly locked against your lips like you were afraid he was going to run away.
the button around your waist loosens, and the zipper coming undone allows him to slide his palms down your back and under your pants.
the sudden grip on your ass forces you to bite on his lip instinctively, but you hear a low chuckle rumbling in the back of his throat.
but his hands find your waist again, forgetting about being rough with you, forgetting about possibly hurting you. the marks on your neck didn’t hurt; he knew you were enjoying having your nerves being sucked between his teeth where he left territorial marks.
your fingers find his belt, but your tongue was tasting every inch of his with your eyes shut.
if ares is fire, then what happens when you put two areses together?
you yank on the belt when it refuses to loosen, and it urges hyunjae to finally pull away from the kiss, leaving you in little huffs despite wanting more.
“oh, no, kitten,” he looks at you with such loving eyes, you wanted to puke. “why are we impatient today?”
he presses a hard kiss onto you, pushing you backwards into his arms as he slowly lays you down.
“aren’t you?”
he kisses you again, the corners of his lips curling up into a smile and it bares his teeth.
“i am, kitten,” another kiss. “but this needs to be different, now that you’re mine.”
your eros starts to surface after a very long time, but hyunjae begins to leave light kisses on your shoulder and down between your breasts while he interlocks his fingers with yours.
he doesn’t pin them down, only holding them tightly in his grasp against the mattress, and the meticulous care he was investing into making sure he wasn’t hurting you was astonishing by his standards.
the flesh on your breasts aren’t spared from his slightly animalistic need to warn others that you are no longer available.
the mewls that were spewing out from between your lips must sound like music to him.
he kisses his way down your stomach and to the rim of your undone pants, lifting your hip off the mattress so he could help you out of it.
butterflies show up in your stomach when he looks at you through his lashes, and you only now notice how needy you were despite him barely making any harsh moves on you.
this pales in comparison to any other time he’s made your body cry for him, but this time, you were willing. you were more than happy to oblige.
you wanted him because you need him.
he leaves you in your bra and underwear while he tosses your pants aside, and he pulls off the belt so he could undo his own pants.
you’ve seen it so many times, but every time you see it, it’s like your first time.
there was no point denying it anymore; lucifer was gorgeous, and he was now yours.
the bulge on his crotch looked so painfully inviting, you were embarrassed for a moment. you were already about to roll to your side so you could slam your lips onto his again, but he quickly leans forward after shaking his pants off his ankles.
he does the deed for you, the silence in the kiss making the rain outside louder and more aggressive than he’s ever been.
the tips of your noses were rubbing against each other as he slowly inches away, eyes frantically darting from left to right across your face as his thumb comes up to caress your cheek.
he looks at you like he was seeing you for the first time in his life, and for a moment, you see the whites in his eyes flicker.
“god, you’re so beautiful.”
oh, my god.
he’s lost his fucking mind.
but so have i.
it breaks your heart to hear those words coming from him, but it also mends it in ways you could no longer understand.
it doesn’t help you forget about younghoon and what you had with him. it doesn’t help you pretend you didn’t share a flirtatious kiss with eric at a party a few weeks ago.
but it helps you piece the puzzle together, and that he was the puzzle piece you were meant to fit in with.
“hyunjae,” his face softens even more when he hears his name sing itself like a heavenly tune.
“i love you.”
the almost unnoticeable strain in his forehead makes you think for a moment that he was hurt, or that your words had shoved a knife into his lungs, but the windows to his soul betray him before he can get his response out.
it feels like an eternity, but he says it for the second time tonight with so much ease, you wonder if this was zeus’ plan all along.
“i love you too.”
this time, your tears run.
run into puddles on his mattress by your ears and into your hair like the rain droplets collecting along the pavement outside.
mother’s nature round of applause synchronises itself with him shoving his lips between yours all over again, and this time, you could taste the addictive sweetness of lee hyunjae.
your lucifer. your ares.
when he pulls away, it was excruciatingly painful. it made you feel empty. it made you feel afraid that he was leaving.
but he only pushes himself downwards and drizzles kisses on your hips and inner thighs when he lifts them up on either sides of his head.
your underwear slides off and he doesn’t hesitate to dip his tongue into your deprived wetness.
the name of the devil who was giving you heaven rolls off your tongue, back arching off the bed and fingers getting tangled in his hair.
it was slow, sensual, careful; he already knew all there was to your body. this was no challenge to him, but it comforts you to know that the most challenging part of all this was finally over.
a finger replaces his tongue after he laps up most of you, but he slides in so easily, all you wished that he pushed in was not his finger.
“hyunjae--” the gulp of air hitches in your throat when his fingers hits a sensitive, strangely easy-to-find spot in you, his tongue pressed flat against your nub.
“i know, kitten. be a good girl and come for me.”
kitten.
a few more harsh pumps and flicks against your sensitive nub and the thunder masks your hisses and loud groans. every drop of your lust is finished off by him like a vampire drinking blood, and he kisses you immediately after, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.
but after he finishes letting you drink yourself, you shove him back upwards and you crawl to where his boxers were tented.
he looks at you with a look of surprise, then it turns into shock and hesitation.
“wait--”
not an option.
his swollen shaft springs out from his boxers when you shove it downwards.
the growl that escapes his throat makes you even wetter, but the way he twitches inside your mouth encourages you. your tongue presses flat against the tip and it earns a sharp hiss from him.
it was his turn for his hands to get tangled in your hair. he was muttering curse words to himself like he was scared you were going to snitch on him, yet the subtle pushing on the back of your head tells you he was enjoying it.
ares and his ego.
“oh... fuck, kitten,” his voice has dropped at least an octave, and the huskiness of it was only making you pool again despite having come once already.
but hyunjae does not want to finish in your mouth or anywhere else.
“kitten, tell me you’re on pills or something.”
the groans come out so painfully blissful from his lungs, it paints a smile across your face when you pull away with a loud pop.
“why would i have taken the risk and gotten pregnant with the child of the man i hate?”
mischief flits across his eyes when he smirks.
“‘the man i hate’?” a brow raised, he pushes you back into the bed. “i think you mean ‘hated’.”
you pause, but the truth speaks itself.
“shut up and show me you love me.”
he smiles into your neck and you feel him prodding at your entrance, legs on either sides of his hips and his breath heavy on your lips.
“that’s my girl.”
the lewd groan comes out so satisfyingly loud and full disappears into his mouth when he simultaneously pushes into you and cushions his lips against yours.
the air runs between your faces carry the scent of sex and his scent when he pulls away, turning his attention to your neck while he starts rolling his hips against yours.
“i want to hear my name kitten.”
the immeasurable, immense feeling of pleasure washes through you like a tsunami after an earthquake.
he was alternating between the sweet spot on your neck and your lips, only pulling away every now and then so you could cry out his name in absolute bliss.
“what a good kitten,” your jaw receives the treatment, and you now realise your nails were leaving bright red marks in his back.
revenge.
his pace picks up and so does his breathing.
this was all too familiar but the biggest difference was that you loved it, and you could not longer deny it.
the change in pitch slaps you back to reality the same time he starts hitting that magic spot inside you.
“hyunjae-- fuck-- i’m--”
“that’s it, kitten. be a good girl and say my name.”
the command sinks itself like a cure to the tumor in your heart, and you feel it blossom like flowers in spring; the first snowflake that falls in winter on your nose.
the thrusts were harsh, sharp, powerful, and the sound that emits from the both of you simultaneously was close to inhumane.
tears were collecting in the corners of your eyes as his name continues to billow out the corner of your lips like a broken record. his forehead was pressed into your shoulder and his entire torso shudders violently above you when you feel him release inside you.
the low, heavy pants were drowned out by the heavy rain outside.
the loud and violent mishaps mother nature was bestowing upon the night felt like a celebration from hell for the two of you.
hyunjae pulls himself out and huffs, repositioning himself so he was resting his forehead onto yours.
“are you alright?”
the question spreads your cheeks apart with a smile, and you grab his chin to pull him into a kiss.
“i’m more than alright.”
later in the evening, when the two of you are spent from your love-making and coiled so tightly that your breaths have become one, you take a moment to absorb the fact that you were laying in his arms, hugging tightly under the blanket after he bothered to clean you up and gave you clean underwear and a large shirt to throw over.
he has won this competition between the two of you. he shoved his way into your life like it didn’t belong to you, and for possibly the only time in your life, you were grateful to let him win.
not when he was in so much pain because of you.
not when you were in pain because he ignored you first.
“but i’m still getting that promotion first, jackass.”
the whisper from your heart tickles a funny bone in you as you tilt your head to peck his nose.
this is what love is, to break and to be broken, to be full and to be empty, to win and to lose.
you wouldn’t have it any other way.
you may have been your ares, but he is your entire underworld. so if you were happy with being with the god of war, then you’ll gladly stay one along with him.
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Chapter 19: Rosa
A/N: it took me SO LONG to churn this out. i hope you guys loved 17.5 written by @vxstarlightxv and hopefully this chapter didn’t just kill 17 and 17.5 off.
but as i release this last smut, it means we are coming to an end. HOSTIS’ final chapter will be 20/XX and HOPEFULLY it’ll be done by end of august. it has been a brilliant ride with all of you, and i’ll see you again when HOSTIS is finished. <3
- love, dana
#lee hyunjae#hyunjae#hyunjae smut#the boyz#the boyz smut#the boyz hyunjae#lee hyunjae smut#timetohajima#timetohajima hostis
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Lost in Yesterday. | Jeno
Request: Nope! I literally dreamed this and was so heartbroken I had to write it.
Author’s Note: I really like this piece, I feel like I channeled emotions well but who knows? Plus, I do have a backstory for this that I planned out in my head while writing this out, so if people (or anybody) want me to I might write it!
For Jeno's POV, go here. // For the backstory, go here.
Warnings: Some swear words, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of manipulation. English is my second language so there might be errors. Not proofread I’m veryvery sorry. (If there is more that I’ve missed, please let me know!)
Word Count: 2.450 idk why but that is so satisfying to me
Genre: SO MUCH ANGST, royal!au, rivalkingdoms!au, loverstoenemies!au
Hope you all enjoy it loves! I wish you all a wonderful week 💚
He makes his way towards you on the balcony, while you are gazing at the developed town below you, an area of truce and peace after the burdensome war days. You can hear steps coming from behind you as the Sun desperately tries to send its rays down onto the Earth if it were not for the clouds covering the sky— resulting in a grey yet bright sky. The weather is ever so slightly chilly, only when the breeze hits from the ocean in the distance. You are tired from all the travel you had done the day before, and from waking up early to attend this important conference with all the major monarchs you could imagine; the annual conference that upheld the peace after the war.
When you hear the steps you wish with all your might that it is not him, but from the side of your eye, you can already tell. It only becomes more obvious when he stands next to you, dangerously close to you to the point where your arms could brush against each other’s. He is looking forward and down at the town like you, his hands linked and placed on the small of his back unlike yours that are resting on the polished parapet. You had succeeded in never meeting his eyes or even accidentally looking in them as you have been for the past few years, but you could still see him unfortunately. He was covered in a white attire, head to toe, if it was not for his jet black hair and black shoes. His suit was covered in gold and red and blue, badges and medals bringing life and color to his attire.
Bringing life to his attire for all the lives that were taken in his lead.
And there is a smile on his face.
“It’s a pretty day here,” Jeno’s voice is content when he speaks, charming, the way it used to be when he talked to you when you were close. Not answering him is not a choice. “It is.”
He notices the way your voice sounds ice cold, unlike how it had been inside while the conference went on. Peaceful, hopeful, warm, appealing. But he does not stutter or mess up with his posture. Instead he turns his face to your profile slowly, the smile widening and warming up on his face. It makes you gulp slightly. “I need to tell you something, if you would hear me out.”
You take a breath. One that seems to linger on your lungs not as an oxygen source, but as pure pressure and weight. You find yourself nodding, keeping your eyes on the damn harbor and the people that seemed to be loading a ship, knowing that if you listen to him you will get to throw him to the deepest corner of your mind once the break ends and the conference picks up again. “Can you look at me as you hear me out then?” He is not demanding. He asks you with patience, and with understanding, as if he would be fine with it if you did not look at him.
But you are strong. So you turn to look at him. And you remember why you had been avoiding taking a glance at him all this time.
His face still gets you feeling that way. You feel your mind get clouds, the kind of clouds that make you feel all soft and dazed as if you are soaring through the skies. His face looks so innocent and bright like he is the man that was once yours, and he glows when he chuckles out a chuckle that he tries to hold in, resulting in only a side of his mouth lifting up further. His eyebrows relax. You had not even known they were not relaxed before. Yet he keeps his eyes only in yours, unlike you.
And then he opens his godforsaken mouth. “I’m to be wedded this winter.”
Jeno is the lightning that crashes you to the ground.
You are reminded of the reality and him immediately, but this time you cannot help it when your breath hitches. He seems to notice it. There is not a furrow of his brows or anything, but you know he sees you. He had always seen you, so what would be so different now?
“Oh.” The shaky reaction is all that leaves your mouth, and you hate that it is what it is. In an instant you turn your eyes back to the harbor, unable to look at him. You had done it only once in years and all it brings to you is pain. “With all due respect, your Majesty, haven’t you been married for months now? I cannot understand this response,” He says with a light laugh. The nickname hurts you. “Especially when I’ve taken the time to tell you about it.”
“Everything was over with, I wasn’t obliged to tell you.” You defend yourself knowing it is not all that true. You had loved him and he had loved you once, and perhaps you both still did. But the fact that everything had been over with was true. Jeno does not seem to care about the venom you spit out, but he does turn his face away to look forward and not at you.
You two stand in silence. And you want the palace guards, who were not your own or his, to call for the continuance of the conference so desperately. Yet at the same time you want to talk to him and look at him because you know this might be one of the last moments you ever get to be with him like this again— where you can say anything to him in any manner at this close proximity.
Fingers tapping at the parapet, you look at him again. “Who are they?”
“A princess,” He does not even take a second to answer you. “From one of the state kingdoms. You must’ve seen her at least once, but I hardly think you know her name.”
A state kingdom’s princess. The princess of a smaller reign. “Do you love her?”
The question scares you and its answer even more so. You hold your breath as you wait for it, and he gives you what you anticipate with his eyes on the town that carries on with its day, and the ever so eternal smile on his lips. “I presume we can say that. She’s the bearer of my child— the heir to my throne, after all. That must mean something.”
It does. He does not say that she is beautiful, he does not say that she has a great personality, he does not say that she is compassionate enough to take him into her arms, he does not say that she will make a queen that everyone will want to follow, and everyone will associate with him and his power— but it does mean something. It means many things, none of them good.
You cannot help when your chest heaves. Turning your head lightning fast away from him, you try to keep the tears that rush to your eyes inside no matter what. Even though you are hurting in such an invisible yet strong way. Even though he rips open the wound you have done everything in order to close up for the past years.
There should not be disappointment, but there is. There should not be betrayal, but there is. You are feeling everything all over again, the same feelings he had given you before.
And you cannot help but think of every lost dream that is truly lost now, every scenario that will not play out, and the life that will not be.
With all your anger and hurt, you mumble, because you did not get to do it last time. “We could have been amazing.”
Had you not become a puppet of your father, had you not so blindly handed all of you to him and his dreams and goals by giving up all that is yours, had your troops not broken into me and my family’s palace and towns towards the end of the war, the end that would signify what could have been the victory of our love, had the captured soldier not spoken your name out when his lieutenant’s name was asked as he got interrogated.
You want to scream these to him, and there is more where they come from.
Had you not betrayed me when you truly loved me, had you not handed me your heart so willingly and left it with my own when you ran to your father’s refuge, leaving it to rot with mine in the aftermaths of the countless harms you have given me and the people I have sworn to protect.
It could have been us against the world, like in the days when were mere heirs. We could have awed people like we did when you asked me to a dance at every single ball the two of us attended, making a political statement and showing there could be olive branches in royalty. We could have had each other’s backs like back in the day when we would secretly meet up in our gardens and would rant to each other about our struggles with our responsibilities, ask for advice, even help with each other’s duties— had you not betrayed me and my family and my people.
We could have been amazing if only you had said yes when I told you with dead seriousness in me to escape this madness for a few years until things die down and come back only after we had married and no one could bat a single eyelash at us anymore.
We could have been amazing if you kept on truly loving me and loved me selfishly— did not care about anybody else, not your father who only manipulated and used you and made you into a man I cannot know anymore, if you kept on breaking down in my arms into tears and actually kept on telling me what was happening, so that I could save you. So that we could save each other and prove the world that love did not have to work in the way people predicted it did.
We could have shown them that love could overcome everything— even two monarchies that despise one another.
But you went after your father and his acceptance rather than true love and hopefulness. I lost you, but the saddest thing is, you lost you as well.
But you cannot scream. Because everyone would suspect something, and you two would become the topic of all the talk again, and there would be royal gossip again, and the assumptions and so many more things, so you cannot do it. You cannot let him know how wrong he is. How he is throwing away his life even more seriously than before. Even if you did let him know nothing would ever be the same as before, you two would not ever be together again, but the Jeno that had left his heart with you was someone with his own hopes and dreams and pride and conscience.
And you want to tell him to take his heart back and run so he can be who he once was, so he can realize what is happening and what he is doing, even if it means his love that accompanies you runs away with him. But you cannot do it, because he is so oblivious to everything. Because he does not know. Because he is stupid enough to believe his guided and decided fate is good for him.
So you only bite down on your bottom lip when a tear runs down your face, mourning your lost dreams and him.
It is when your chest would finally give in and you would start letting the sobs loose that a hand finds its place on your waist after a few hurried steps coming from behind you. “Dear,” Donghyuck calls, bringing you back to yourself, giving you the ground that you direly need to stand on. He looks at Jeno who is already staring him down with narrowed eyes, the man who once used to be your guard that helped you with your secret rendezvouses and kept an eye out for any threats or people that would break you. Donghyuck seems to notice him and his feelings about him, but does not glare at Jeno. He only looks at him straight and dead in his eyes for a millisecond before turning back to you with his support and the sprouts of what might be love.
He lets you lean against him as he looks deep into your eyes, reaching your soul to try and repair the damage the man he once believed in had done. But he sees that you are not okay. So he gives you an opportunity to escape. “Shall we go inside? We can go get you something.”
His hand that is around your waist holds the one that has landed on your stomach as you try to get the sick feeling off of yourself, as if to say just give me the slightest signal, and I will get you out of here.
You have a feeling he had been watching the two of you from inside carefully, like the way he used to when he was the guard aiding you with your forbidden relationship. His timing was perfect and he understood something was wrong immediately.
Donghyuck gives you the trust you always need, as a good companion always does, which is why you nod at him and give his hand the slightest squeeze before you let your arms fall. His hand stays on your waist as supportive measure as he starts walking— but you stop after a couple steps and so does he.
You turn to look back at Jeno, who is looking at the two of you with the same discipline he had held this whole time. “Send an invitation for us, too,” You point at Donghyuck and yourself before continuing. “Our monarchs must be better than abandoning each other on their best days. Let us host you in our palace once honeymoon is over, which I hope is enough to make up for my mistake.”
With all the strength in you, you smile. Being weak is never an option for you. “And if you do not, then I wish all the happiness to you and the queen, your Highness.”
Without another glance at him, you turn away and let Donghyuck lead the way back in.
For the first time in maybe years, Jeno’s shoulders drop.
#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct#nct dream#nct angst#lee jeno#nct jeno#jeno#jeno imagines#jeno angst#lee donghyuck#donghyuck#nct haechan#haechan#hope you're all hanging in there okay#i love you all and cherish you#i am here for you if you need anything#virtual hugs#mwah#fic: lost in yesterday
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The Phoenix Queen
Just a teaser of something I’ve been working on for a long time. It’s the beginning of a dark fantasy novel. Enjoy.
-R
Faster, she had to move faster. She knew, she could feel it, he was almost gone. Why did she have to sleep? It was just a nap and he promised he wouldn’t leave the throne room. Please…. Please…. Don’t be too late.
She threw the heavy doors to the throne room open and gasped for air. Though there were only about twenty or so nobles present, the red liquid slowly seeping down the steps to the throne was quite visible. She took off in a run again, her shoes clattering hard against the solid and cold stone.
She shouted his name, yet she couldn’t hear her own voice as she ascended the steps. Her husband lay in front of her, blood slowly trickling down the steps from several stab wounds. She sank to her knees, tears forming in her eyes, her breath shaking as she pulled him into her arms. For the second time in her life, she held the one she loved most, as they lay dying in her arms. His beautiful blue eyes met her brilliant teal ones as she slightly shook her head. He mouthed the words “I love you” and then slowly closed his eyes.
She let out a cry from the very depths of her being, a wail that sounded of a world-ending. Had her hair not already turned white from the events of her childhood, it would have done so now. The room grew cold and ice crystals began forming across the floor. The nobles glanced back and forth between one another, with several bolting for the open doors. The doors, as if making sure that none would escape justice, slammed closed, the nobles turning back to look upon their queen.
The light in the throne room began to dim, as outside, what appeared to be a solar eclipse suddenly and rapidly appeared in the sky. Hushed whispers of panicked voices arose in the room, all seeming to be some variation of “it can’t be”. The room plunged into total darkness and silence, save for a pair of glowing amethyst eyes near the throne.
Unearthly sounds could be heard from the windows followed by a beastly and deep growl. Small bursts of a purple-black fire ran along the walls, lighting the sconces along the wall with the strange magical fire. A deep, raspy voice echoed through the throne room,
“My, my, my. What have we here? A murdered king in the throne room. Did none of you pay any attention in school? Or did you think it was all just an old legend meant to scare bureaucrats into not killing their rulers?”
As the room lit more and more, it revealed a man, or what looked like a man, with glowing red eyes standing near the throne. He was dressed oddly, wearing what appeared to be black dragon skin in the form of a long, tailored coat. He leaned against a cane, with a silver dragon head at the handle. His smile sent chills through the nobles who were present, especially when he ran his fingers through his black hair. He picked a piece of dust off the vest of his black suit, seemingly bored with the whole affair.
A nobleman, still holding a knife drenched in crimson, spoke up, his voice trembling, “A-are you?”
“The one who appears whenever a Wizard monarch is murdered? Yes, that would be me. Please tell me you remember my name at least? One can’t go around bringing about prophecies and fulfilling old legends properly without the requisite knowledge of just who is smiting who, now can we?”
“Dracten? No…. it… it can’t be.” The noble shook his head in disbelief.
“Ah, well, at least your schooling was good for something. Now, let’s see here. I count…. Five of you with blades, several more with magical residue. My, my, what did he do to deserve such a death?”
“He and his queen have yet to save us from the undead scourge that is threatening to take over the realms.” The noble replied.
The same beastly growl filled the room from before and the man dressed in black slowly walked towards the nobleman, looking quite annoyed. “If you mean to lie to a god, I suggest that you do a better job of it, mortal.” Once Dracten was right in front of the noble, he tapped his cane on the ground, “Let’s try that again, shall we?”
“He’s only half wizard. Not fit for being a royal.”
Dracten’s eyebrow twitched and his expression grew stern. “THAT is why he was murdered? Not for power, revenge, personal vendetta, the throne? No, you all chose to kill someone, over THAT?”
“Without a pure-blooded heir, the Wizard kingdom would surely suffer a lack of power against the other races.”
Dracten inhaled a few times, seeming to start speaking before pressing his lips together, only to repeat the process over again. “You…. Are an idiot.” Dracten walked away, shaking his head, making his way to the grieving queen. He stretched out his hand to her, which she reluctantly took as he helped her stand. He looked her over and then sighed, “My, my. Being the one to fulfill the prophecy of reuniting the realms apparently was not enough, was it? As you know, I am here at your service, especially seeing as you are the last of the royal bloodline, are you not?”
Her eyes had grown puffy, and her tears had crystalized into ice along her cheeks. She nodded and then spoke in a hoarse voice. “I am.”
“What is your request then? Torment for all eternity? Death, destruction and chaos? Come now, I must have an answer.”
“Any of you who had nothing to do with my husband’s death, leave now.” Her expression grew distant as the doors to the throne room swung open. All but a few hurried out of the room. Just beyond the threshold of the door, several sets of eyes watched with great interest and relief, thankful that they were not caught in the ancient enchantments of the throne room. “Dracten, my wish, in part of my family’s agreement with you ages ago, is to borrow your power for a time.”
He grinned with a deep laugh, “Now THAT, is one I have never been asked for before. Very well, you will be granted my powers for a time. And in return?”
“You may do with their souls as you wish. This I grant you, not only as the queen of the Wizards, but as the rightful heir to the Angelic and Demonic thrones, unifier of the races and restorer of the realms.”
He hit his cane on the floor twice and laughed again, “Excellent! I do love a good show.” He hopped over to the throne and sat down as if getting ready to watch a highly anticipated play.
The nobleman spoke up, now visibly trembling, “Your Majesty, please, understand what we did was for the good of the kingdom.” Her eyebrow quirked and her gaze met his, her eyes both glowing a deep blood red. “Please… there must be someone far better suited, that you would prefer.”
The ice that had initially formed across the floor now spread, coating every nook and cranny. Dracten watched and laughed, “I’m afraid that won’t do when she loved him dearly. Be a good mortal and die with dignity, or do you mean to grovel?” Dracten’s laughter filled the room. It was an unnerving laugh, one that only one who enjoyed death and destruction could produce. He hit his cane on the floor twice and his eyes glowed brilliantly, the amethyst hue pouring out of his eyes. Blackened smoke, with purple lightning, began to pour out from him, taking the shape of a serpent dragon. It surrounded the queen until she was completely enveloped.
When the smoke cleared, she stood there in the room, one eye glowing red, the other purple. Dracten now held a goblet and took sips here and there as he made himself more comfortable on the throne.
“Hear me now. I will never love another. There will be no heir and the royal line will die with me. Then this realm and all our underwater cities will lie in ruins, all for your intolerance of someone who was merely half. And while I will defeat the undead and necromancers that plague us, I will do so on my terms, the same with the remainder of my rule.” She spoke clearly, yet her voice shook, not with sorrow, but with rage. “Tell me. You know me as the Phoenix Queen, yet, have you ever seen a dark phoenix?”
“Erm… no, your Majesty.” He replied, afraid not to answer her.
The same creepy smile that Dracten once displayed now took hold of her lips as a dark shadow grew from behind her. The fire on the sconces dimmed and the screech of a bird sounded. A great many screams were heard afterward, as retribution and an old bargain was once again fulfilled, the floors stained red, and the sky darkened.
In the days that followed, several funerals were held, the queen standing by at each, expression ice cold, her teal eyes hollow and devoid of emotions. She never cried publicly over the loss of her husband, but rather issued a decree stating what had happened that day, the surviving bureaucrats signing as witnesses.
The kingdom mourned for their king and for their queen. But there was little time for such things, as there was a horde of undead that needed defeating.
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Thinking journal for season 12 Prime Empire 😎😎😎 (2/2)
Here we go with the next part! I really hope we get some major big plot twist at some point, because it's all really cool but I need something to really change from good to GREAT
For now, let's focus on the next episodes!
It's the 17th of April and here we go!
GENERAL
I feel like there's little time to really pull up something, I don't know. Like, what plot twist could happen now that there just half season left with only Unagami/Dyer's identity and maybe Scott's past as mysteries? There's little space for more plotlines, that's what I think
Overall fighting scenes, character designs and game backgrounds are AWESOME!!
Let's see how it goes, maybe I'll be surprised. Wouldn't be weird for Ninjago to pull a bomb last episode 😅
ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK
ZANE AND PIXAL FINALLY!!! IT'S DETECTIVE TIME!!! 😎
Okay, so there is a photo, and there is a friend. As I thought, Dyer might not be Unagami at all, I feel like there's a lot of backstory coming along. I wonder if Scott has a part in this... WHERE IS SCOTT 💙
Ah, of course Kai would spend his credits on an avatar, I should've known, my flame babe can be such a dummie sometimes I mean why would you even do such a thing as buying an avat-
NEVER MIND I LOVE IT 😍😍🔥🔥 I thought him being blonde was going to bother me, I actually kinda like the change. Still prefer my baby brunette, but it's really cool as well. The best of this season are definitely the characters designs
Was that "let's fight an ogre mission" a hint for next season? I wouldn't be weird, but it's been a while since I've seen forshadowing for new season in this show
HECK YEAH THE DANCING EPISODE!!! I was waiting for this, Jaya is so cute while they are on the dancefloor 😍 They have chemistry 😘😘😘
I like the implication that Nya was really bad at dancing before Jay, like Kai covering his eyes because he cannot handle her sister not being perfect at something 😛
And Cole being the dance expert, that little tango moment with Kai I bet made many lavashippers super happy 🖤❤🖤❤
THE TRIPLE TIGER SASHAY ALL THE WAY FROM SEASON 1-2 ABSOLUTELY YES YES YES!!! AND HE DIDN'T ROAR, HE STRAIGHT UP SAID "NO ONE PUTS COLE IN A CORNER" I'M DYING!!! With this and Nya's 'catch me', I expect so many Dirty Dancing AUs from this 😂👌
JAYA BEING AWESOME HECK YEAH ❤💙❤💙
JUST LOOK AT THEM!!! Nya better say I love you back soon, like Kai and Skylor are a little behind, Zane and Pixal already said it, Jay can't stop doing it, come on girl it's your turn! 😎😎
RACER SEVEN
SCOTT IS BACK YES!!! 😍😍😍💙💙💙
Okay, I think my theory won't happen 😅 Feels like there are not enough episodes for a good reveal, and it doesn't seem like Scott is that influenced by Jay. My last idea is that perhaps he has spent so much time in the game like Jay said (POOR BABY 😭) that he doesn't remember. Maybe the moment he will come back, we will find out that it is Jay's brother/twin, I mean he still has those dragon and lightnings drawing on his back... yeah I like this theory a lot, gonna hold on to it!
So Scott is indeed a person trapped in a game, at least that's confirmed 👍
Also he's got some major issues, the poor thing, and I think there is some special reason behind him not wanting to race besides having just one life.
HERE IT COMES
OH MY GARMADON 😂😂😂 Okay, okay, it's actually better than I expected really. The scarf is cool, and so are the golden tattoos, the suit and the golden sleeve. It's just the mohawk that will take time to get used to, it's not even bad, just weird 🤷♀️
Racer Seven is so cool! Always nice seeing a new female character in this show that is not a love interest. I do love Nya, Pix and Sky to death, but I love variety too 💪
Really, really nice the piece of all Racer Seven's crashes! Impactful and sad, a never ending loop that she wants to break through from. That's the heavy stuff I like!
Okay, ready for the race! And I'm... scared? Like, a lot of they guys have one life?? KAI HAS ONE LIFE?? 😱😱 I hope for the best I guess 😅
THE SPEEDWAY FIVE-BILLION
Might be my favorite episode yet
Seven is SO COOL, it's another reason why I'm sad these episodes are so short! I really would had liked see her more, truly have her bond with the guys
Soooo... I guess since Scott's been in the game for 30 years it's safe to assume he's not Jay's brother/twin. To be fair it's really hard to tell a LEGO person's age😅 At this point I guess he could be either Dyer's friend, even if it sounds unlikely, or... idk, still think he could have a connection with Jay. Maybe he's like... an older brother? Libber had him a long while ago?
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHY DID SCOTT HAVE TO DIEEEEEEEE??? 😭😭😭 Just when he was getting more involved, come on! He even said he wanted to try that hero stuff, I love him! WE WILL SAVE YOU MY TECH BABY!!!
Cole getting a ride from Kai, this season has some pretty good lava material ❤🖤❤🖤
I've got some major Ninjaball Run vibes from this, that brings me back 😂 Even the no rules thing is there, come on, there has to be a little bit of inspiration from it!
Still don't know what I think of the rats, kinda seems useless and annoying, gonna be honest. But it's a nice race, exciting with nothing big happenin-
Kai and Cole sacrifice for Jay
I KNOW I THOUGHT ABOUT IT BEFORE BUT I'M NOT OKAY WITH THIS!!! MY FLAME BABE AND MY ROCKY BABY!!! 😭😭😭😭 WHY PEOPLE KEEP DYING IN THIS EPISODE???
I so, so enjoyed how they did it. Like, one look between them to realize that yes, this is it, Jay is the expert and needs to go on. This is the end of our race... AAAHHH!! (Infinite shipping potential too)
Omg Nya screaming her brother's name and Jay his best friend's name, while Lloyd looks so devastated (those masks are actually kinda espressive, I really like them). Wow. This is the angst I needed, finally👌
YES SEVEN WON!!! HECK YEAH GIRL!!! SO HAPPY FOR HER!!! Also Okino in the background being happy, nice touch!
And now they are three... it's gonna end up with only Jay huh. I... I'm not ready actually, my heart 😢 They better all hug when this is all over!!!
STOP, DROP AND SIDE ROLL
I CAN SEE THEY ARE KEEPING THE FEELS FOR LAST APPARENTLY??? 😭
The music of the old school section was actually very nice, reminds me of the past, I kinda hoped The Fold were going to release some game themed songs. Been a while since I have one of those 😍
Lol, explaining the side scroll games was actually pretty cool
YES THEY ACTUALLY ACKNOWLEDGED THE AIRJITSU!! Maybe they will remember they can used it, right Cole? The ladder scene? YOU CAN FLY???
OMG NYA ACTUALLY SAID CICLON-DO JUST HOW CUTE IS THAT!!! All the way from my favorite season Possession, Jay's definition of airjitzu that I actually still kept in one of my fanfictions 😂
Okay the design of the temple of madness is REALLY cool, you can immediately tell it's from an old videogame. Gives me the double vibe the googles for the first 3D movies used to give me 😂
Also look at this
THIS IS ADORABLE!! 💙💚💦 Really old style videogame 😂
And there we go!! Harumi!! Since I saw her in the set I was wondering what she was going to be, maybe an avatar or an NPC of some sort... THIS HURTS WAY MORE!!! And of course pure heart BABY boy Lloyd doesn't feel good fighting her, he had a crush on her! AND HE FREAKING SAW HER DIE!!! It's really sad that he still hopes for her to be good...
The fighting scenes are really, REALLY good! So fluid and active! This fight was really pleasant to watch, not gonna lie 💜
NOOOOOOOOO!!!! NOT MY GREEN BABY BOY!!!! I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN BUT STIIIIIIL!!! 😭😭😭
Okay, down to three members. Remaining Zaptrap and water godess... omg Nya will totally die first and at that point Jay will go completely nuts. I'm both scared and DYING TO HAPPEN!!! ANGST FINALLY!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!
Got some major Skybound feeling, like when it was only Jay and Nya... will Nya finally say I love you back?? I HOPE SO ❤💙❤💙
With the three keytana now, what will happen? I'm actually curious now, this is the exciting stuff I need! And yes I do realize it's a little weird that for getting hype I need my faves to die 😅
NINJAGO CONFIDENTIAL
OMG THEY ACTUALLY DID A DETECTIVE THEMED EPISODE BLACK AND WHITE I'M DYING 😂😂😂
The Weekend Whip with sax, never thought I needed this in my life 😍
Bet Brent had a blast recording this
Okay this is the third Chima reference I see, they better throw some Nexo Knights hits as well next season! Come on, it's about freaking knights!!!
This is not what I expected when they said there was going to be an episode with only Zane and Pixal but I'm sure as HECK not complaining 👌
Oh, seeing Pixal joining in so normally is so beautiful, I really wish we could have her even more often
Dareth's karaoke bar! From Sons of Garmaron! Also him guessing first try because the ninja really do get post in other dimensions very often 😂 Gotta love them indeed
Pff Zane narrating and getting stopped every time because of it, how I missed this naive little nindroid
So the bartender Tony is the friend? That's it? A little easy really, hoped for more... still calling him Milty is cute 💕
Buddy's Pizza from season 2!!! This season is killing me with references and I LOVE IT SO MUCH 💜💜💜
So, the mechanic is free again (the Kryptarium dudes should really learn how to do their job right 😓), Zane is kidnapped, and Pixal has a fedora that makes her possibly even cuter. I have emotions
AH!! KNEW IT!! UNAGAMI IS NOT DYER!! FREAKING CALLED IT!!... kinda expected really, but still called it 😅
So Unagami was the first name of Prime Empire and is also an AI that got crazy and was shut down, but now is back after programming the game itself and wants to get to the real world?... I'm down with it
So I'm guessing we won't get much of a Scott backstory... Eh, let's see how it goes!
THE PRODIGAL FATHER
I was seriously confused by why those dudes wanted to kidnapped Wu, but it made sense later. Still come on sensei, you're a freaking half god or something, pull yourself together 🤦♀️
Very nice that Pixal is the one to bring up the argument about feelings and AI. So very nice to have her in this!!!
I THOUGHT ZANE WAS GOING TO TAKE A BREAK FROM LAST SEASON, WHY ARE THEY MAKING HIM SUFFER AGAIN??? 😭
Oh finally the backstory of Unagami I'm really curious about what happened in the past and what exactly brought the shut down of Prime Emp-
I LITERALLY CARE ABOUT NOTHING ELSE BUT THIS BEAUTIFUL GAMER BOY IN REAL LIFE!!! 😍😍😍😍😍
So Scott was the first beta tester, Milton asked Unagami to make the experience as exciting as possible, and that ended very badly so the game was shut down and THEY LEFT HIM INSIDE FULLY KNOWING HE WAS THERE??? I HATE DYER NOW!!!
Although it is really interesting knowing a tech genius like him, until now we got Dr. Julien and Cyrus Borg that were plenty open about the idea of AI with feelings as meaningful as humans'. While he doesn't get that, they are only machines for him and that's the reason why he doesn't understand how much Unagami is mad and filled with need for revenge.
This is why I want more than 11 minutes, the themes of this season are really, REALLY cool. I would have loved more introspection and development.
I guess Scott being Jay's brother is officially debunked 😅 Although I am curious about the life he left behind, since he was stuck in that game for 30 years. He still has those lightnings on the jacket I don't understand...
DON'T YOU DARE LET ZANE BE DESTROYED AGAIN PLEASE I STILL CRY WATCHING "THE TITANIUM NINJA"!!! 😢😢😢😢😢😢
The portal is open, Zane might get destroyed, Unagami wants revenge, Jay and Nya are the only one left and I'm pretty sure Nya will be killed as well leaving only Bluebell so there's THAT. So yeah, this is actually pretty cool!
Two episodes left. Okay Ninjago season 12 Prime Empire, wow me 😎
THE TEMPLE OF MADNESS
This felt a little simple if I'm gonna be honest. I felt like the last mission before facing Unagami was a little basic, with nothing really exciting. Still liked it, but this is probably my least favorite episode 🤷♀️
Of course, put Jay is a sushi restaurant-themed level and he will kill you with puns 😂 I love this prankster
Again, the fighting scenes are dope. Definitely one of my favorite things since they changed the animation. You lose something you win something 😙
Wooo, Jay saying that he had trained for years just for kick his butt was actually cool! Bluebell is unleashing!
"And that's how we roll!". You rock we roll, am I right 😂
AH!!! CALLED IT!!! TOTALLY CALLED IT!!! MY POOR BABY BLUEBELL 😭😭
I wish Nya said that she loves Jay back though! Freaking come on girl, he is your yang!!! ❤💙❤💙
Unagami is not Dyer, he wants to get to the real world, I'm actually kinda curious about the confrontation that is about to happen... ALSO THERE BETTER BE LOTS OF HUGS WHEN THIS IS OVER
I... genuinely forgot about the dragon medallion 😅 Eh, I love dragons so I'm fine with it. Well, let's see how it ends!!!
GAME OVER
Wow, I actually love this ending?? A LOT?? After last episode I didn't have much hope, but after seeing it I gotta say, it was really great 👌👌
Thanks for not dying on us again Zane, much appreciated
Jay taking charge is quite rare and when it happens you know things are about to get crazy 😂 It was really nice seeing how sensible he could be, telling that Unagami wasn't evil after all, that he needed closure and answers
I know I miss the animation peak we reached with SoG and Hunted, but I gotta say the atmosphere of the city with the lightnings and the gray sky was really awesome. Very cool.
Pff, that part with the elevator though, reminds me of the one in season 1 that made me start watch Ninjago ✌ Also it's always Borg's Tower indeed 😂
OKINO KICKING BUTTS HECK YEAH LOOK AT OUR RONIN GO!!!
And wow. WOW. I didn't expect Jay to drop the I'm adopted bomb on us, I think I never heard him talk about it since Skybound (that technically never happened so 😅). It was SO good seeing him sympathize with Unagami because he was also left with no explaination. His desire to know, along with the hope that the past is the past, but they had a good reason for. Also he freaking said he didn't have the chance to ask because Cliff is dead and I 😭😭😭😭
And here I melted, because we finally see the situation for what truly is, the way Jay also sees it: Unagami is a kid, a child that doesn't understand how the world works, that just wants to make his father proud but got rejected instead. The confrontation was actually touching, I really wish we had more time for that. Even a little resistance from Unagami, another fight, and a finally reconcilliation with Dyer.
MY NINJA BABIES ARE BACK I MISSED YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! ❤💚💙🖤💦💎
Could you seriously be cuter than this?? ❤💙❤💙 I wished for more hugs but I'll settle for this I guess 😍
Okay, very nice to see Seven and Okino out there and deciding to live their lives in Ninjago, nice to see some others like the rats going back to Prime Empire. As Unagami said, he gave them a choice, it's up to them at this point
But I'm sorry, WHY ARE WE NOT GOING TO TALK WITH SCOTT??? That guy's been trapped inside the game the longest, not even a "Hey bud, you're alive, cool cool"? I know I've been overbearing about how much I love Scott, especially since I had all those theories about him (still don't know why he has lightnings on his jacket and hat, is it just a style thing? Idk), but come on! Well I guess if he's happy I am 🤷♀️
Is that his girlfriend or something? After 30 years? Or maybe she got trapped with him a while later? Or maybe that's his... mom? Look, we all know determine the age of LEGO characters is hard, give me a break please 😅😅
Overall, very nice ending, it brought everything together quite nicely. I'm satisfied, yes!! 💜💜
FINAL THOUGHTS
As I said, the episodes' lenght I really think gets in the way of making this an excellent season. There is so much that could be explored more, the choice matter, all the amazing characters, and the AI feelings stuff from the latest episodes. There is room for more, I wished we got that
The characters though were really amazing. Between Scott, Okino, Seven and Unagami himself, there were very different personalities with very different dreams and thoughts, that made this ride much more interesting
Fighting animation was 👌👌👌
Comebacks from past seasons were 👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌👌
Maybe it didn't really focused on Jay as much until the end? Yeah it was about him, but we got to see his sensibility and his past only last episode. He loves Nya, he likes videogames, of course but there's more about him than meets the eye! Wished we saw that, but in general it was nice seeing him first line again 💙
I liked this season. It has flaws, but I enjoyed many parts and at the end I was left satisfied 👍
Just... wasn't Jillian supposed to be in this? Or is it next season? She said a mom was going to come back, I took for granted it was going to be Edna. I'm curious about next season now... FINALLY A COLE SEASON EVERYONE!!! 🖤🖤🖤
Thank you for leaving notes to my last rant, this helps me not jump excitedly every time a new episode comes out 😅 Well then, that's all from me!! Have a nice day everyone!! 💜💜💜
#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago season 12#ninjago prime empire#prime empire#spoilers#ninjago spoilers#jay walker#ninjago jay#kai smith#ninjago kai#kai ninjago#nya smith#ninjago nya#cole brookstone#cole bucket#ninjago cole#zane julien#ninjago zane#lloyd montgomery garmadon#lloyd garmadon#ninjago lloyd#ninjago scott#ninjago unagami#unagami#pixal borg#ninjago pixal#master wu#ninjago wu
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First impressions of the century
It’s a tiny something I wanted to write in ages. A piece from “Dead as dead can be”, which shows you how John meet my OFC, that includes spoilers from the movie “Constantine”.
SUMMARY: Constantine meets someone unusual at Papa Midnite’s place.
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Readers tag list:
@spookier-than-u; @sparrowsparrow; @magdazwolska; @mikaneonox; @derangedcupcake; @geostarr; @catsmieow; @wickedlangdon; @bodhi-black; @bugalouie; @onebatch--twobatch; @fandom-lover-4; @drunkonyellow; @semtempoirmaoo; @spadesandaces2342; @harrisongslimited; @a--1--1--3; @hhighkey; @lunilate; @i-cant-remember-my-old-login;
Constantine was surprised when he walked into Papa Midnite’s bar with such ease. The bouncer didn’t flashed him a card with riddle, waiting for him to answer, before he could let him past the entrance. And this time?
This time he just stepped aside and let him inside with all of its simplicity.
As he kept sauntering inside he could feel everyone’s eyes focused on him. Every single person was still doing their thing, but their gazes were focused on him as he was making his way through the crowd and to Papa’s office.
One particular pair of eyes caught his attention the most. Those almost black ones belonged to a woman dressed in red. She was sitting by the bar, sipping something from her glass, the dark gaze glued to John’s figure. Of course she knew who he was, everyone knew him and they knew what happened in the last few days.
She wanted to use and abuse him. To bring into reality every scenario her twisted mind came up with. Her glass filled with the delicate treat, that lingered all over her mouth, leaving few notes of vanilla and jasmine on her tongue, was slowly becoming empty and she was already wanting more.
He was in the middle of the dance floor where some unnamed force told him to stop, he tried to fight it, but there wasn’t much he could do, his feet refused to move a single inch.
The lady dressed in a red floor length gown was still eyeing him. Constantine could finally see her from a closer distance and beauty was mesmerizing, he was unable to take his eyes of her figure, like she somehow managed to put a spell on him from afar, making him dizzy.
Her thick locks in graphite looked like they were made from nothing but pure shadow, falling in cascades onto her back, ending somewhere above her loins. When she made another few steps through the crowd, walking closer to him, he was able to see the grin on her plump lips, the glittery rogue shade their were painted with shimmering in the LED light. Her eyes were dark, just like the whole make-up and there was something primal in the way he stared at him, flicking her tongue almost in slow motion across her lower lip. Everything about her was dark and it looked outstanding compared to the paleness of her skin.
She was holding a neatly carved glass in her hand with a dark red liquid poured inside it. Her eyes were still focused on John when she pressed her lips to its edge, leaving an imprint of her lips on the glass.
John was unable to look away, her gaze lit a fire in him of something he couldn’t name and he felt the need to push right through the crowd, kneel before her and simply do anything she wants him to. The view of her, of her body in a gown with too deeply cut V-neck, her neck and breasts embellished with enormous necklace would haunt him in the night time. There was a slit at the side of her dress that revealed her juicy thigh and showed off her whole leg with a huge floral tattoo in black and white, that was drawn all the way up from the side of her calf and was probably ending way beyond her panty line.
There was something magic about her, he could sense from that distance that it was somehow maleficent force but it still made him breathless. He had no idea about the name he should call her, but she was a mesmerizing being. He could stare at her for the whole eternity.
Was it wrong if the thought of him crawling on his knees was still stuck in her head? To her: not at all. Perhaps it could scare him, but with the flick of her finger she could made him absolutely weak.
Suddenly he lost her from his view, his feet able to move again and he stumbled throughout the crowd in a rush, pushing his way through all of the dancers that were swaying their bodies into the rhythm of currently playing song.
He reached the steel doors that lead to Midnite’s sanctuary and before he could raise his hand trying to knock on them they slowly opened, revealing the room. It was covered in thick layer of cigar smoke, that tempted him to have one too and John kept waving his hand in front of his face like he was trying to forbid the tobacco scent from reaching his nostrils.
John wandered further inside his office looking over his shoulder few times, trying to see if that woman perhaps decided to follow him. Papa Midnite was waiting for him, his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture and he walked over to John when the doors closed behind him.
“You found your time to arrive here after all…” Midnite squeezed his arm too harshly, few of his bones cracking and he felt a sharp pain coming right through it. Then he patted his back with a heavy hand and walked back to the minibar, pouring another glass for John. Papa was dressed quite fancy, for the usual evening at his club. The gray tuxedo with a ivory shirt and black bow tie wasn’t the attire Constantine saw his friend in even in times when there was a big event hosted in his local. He was holding now two glasses with some cinnamon colored liquid, “Fancy an aperitif?”
“Thanks” he mumbled, taking the glass from his hand, slowly sipping the drink. It was Papa’s favorite old-school whisky brand and he only popped new bottle open when there was a truly fancy occasion to do so, “Can you tell me what’s the deal with tonight? The bouncer didn’t wanted me to answer the stupid card riddle and as I was walking to your office everyone was staring at me like they wanted to fuck me.”
Midnight laughed in his usual baritone and leaned onto the backrest of his tall chair, “We’re just happy you restored the balance.”
“The balance, yeah…” he took a sip from his glass, the thick yet spicy taste of liquor spilling all over the insides of his mouth.
“Aren’t you happy with how it all ended? Could have been worse” Papa sat at the edge of his desk, placing his glass close to him.
“Chad’s dead. Angela doesn’t want to talk to me… yeah, could have been worse.”
Midnite just sighed. Before he had the chance to say few words of reassurance the doors opened with a loud thud and someone walked inside.
“Papa!” woman’s voice chirped as she paraded inside his office, the doors closing behind her with even louder thud.
“Oh, Adrienne, what a pleasure to see you!” she smiled and walked over to Papa letting him wrap her in a tight hug. She was standing in front of John’s view, making him sigh loudly. He heard her giggle, corners of her mouth twitching a little and she turned around to face him, her white teeth almost blinding him.
“John Constantine… what a pleasure to meet you” her voice sounded like heavenly music played by legions of angels. Her skin was as white as sheet of paper and her graphite hair made her look like she just escaped from some gothic painting. The fabric of her red dress was hugging her body, emphasizing the marvelous curves she had in the right places. Adrienne just kept smiling, seeing how his eyes were swiping her figure up and down.
John was able to see her whole body up close, the paleness of her skin, her exposed thigh, as well as her tattoo that was now staring at him fully exposed in the deep cut of the material that ran along her leg. Around one of her long, pale fingers she had a thick silver ring with a rounded green gem placed in the middle and the unusual ring caught his eye. Her nails were outrageously long and painted black, she could probably cut someone with them or maybe even slit someone’s throat.
He could have sworn that even though the place had no windows and they all were deep inside a basement he heard the storm thrummed somewhere close and lightnings were slashing the night sky into pieces.
“I hope the meeting will turn into something greater in the near future” she breathed out when their gazes met and he swallowed hard seeing her dark and lustful gaze.
“I doubt it, Constantine it’s not your type, love” Papa said and Adrianne laughed loudly, placing her hand onto his arm.
“Too stubborn?” her voice was smooth like silk, she really sounded like an angel, but there wasn’t any angelic bit in the way she looked.
“Too alive.”
“Oh, I bet we can change it quite easily” she winked at John, “I’ll come again when you’re free Papa, see you around Jonathan” when she was passing him by he could have sworn that her hand brushed against his thigh.
After she disappeared he was finally able to say something.
“It was the woman that was staring at me since I entered your place” John turned around pointing his finger to the now closed door.
“Not staring, hypnotizing. You caught her eye Constantine. She’s dangerous, her blood is filled with poison… and her bite is deadlier than black widow’s bite. Don’t come anywhere near her, unless you want to be doomed.”
#First impressions of the century#john constantine#john constantine fanfiction#john constantine fic#john constantine fanfic#john constatine imagine#john constantine oneshot#Keanu Reeves#keanu reeves fanfic#keanu reeves fic#keanu reeves fanfiction#keanu reeves imagine#keanu reeves oneshot#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#imagine#oneshot#Constantine/OFC#Constantine x OFC#john constantine x adrienne#Dead as dead can be#Dead as dead can be oneshot#chaptered fic#john constantine chaptered fic#chaptered series#kr:oneshot
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The Burning Crown
Summary: Lotor is preparing for his ceremonial dance, but it seems he has captured the attention of a curious Reader.
Pairings: Lotor x Reader
★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Blood, Death.
Music to listen to while reading.
Inspiration.
Fire, by all common knowledge, was hot, painful, and oh so dangerous. It was a living thing, consuming and burning any who stood in its furious path with no mercy or forgiveness. They say that cremating oneself was a way to prepare for Hell, for the heat would sear into your very soul to incinerate your sins and serve as an appetizer for what awaits the corrupted. Such words did not do justice for the fire dancing at Planet Feyiv. No, that flame, that sacred flame, was something much worse. Much more vicious, much more cruel, much more ruthless.
For it did not die by water. It did not die when there was nothing left to burn. It dies when it so chooses to.
The sound of a sword slicing through the cool, night air drew your attention from atop your wooden perch. Another schwing, this time faster, and it fully woke you up into alert mode. Someone was here, close, and swinging a very lethal weapon around you. Peeking from your spot well-hidden in the trees, wondering what lunatic was out this late practicing sword fighting, your eyes locked onto the figure of a man. A...white haired, Galra man.
Your eyes widened in recognition, for even someone of your status knew that was the infamous Prince Lotor. Well, actually, just Lotor. He wasn’t an official Prince yet, not until the coronation acknowledged him as one. It would explain why he was way out here, half-naked, and dancing oh so alluringly with a shimmering blade grasped in each of his hands. The way he moved, flowed like rushing water before striking with the brightest lightning, it … scared you.
He could kill you. And that was more than enough to tell you to run.
Lotor glanced in your direction, feeling curious eyes roam over the expanse of his back, and when he targeted your silhouette, you felt a chill touch your spine. Why did it feel like you were the one intruding on him? Regardless, that was your cue to flee. And flee you did. With careful, nimble steps, you hopped from tree to tree as far away from him as possible. The night was quiet again, save for the trickle of water passing in a nearby river.
The fireflies were flitting about in the forest, so you knew it was going to be a good night. You sated your childish desires and jumped at them here and there, chasing them without a care in your life. Each one you caught, you held in your hand as if they were a tiny star that you could call your very own. Orion. Leo. Pisces. Nebulae. Cometa. Galaximus. You would never see them again when they flew off, but it mattered not, for like the stars above, the number of fireflies around you was countless.
It was...something about their glow. Yellow, red, green. Blue, orange, even white. Attracting mates, from what you remember. It was fascinating how easily they glowed like that, like they were blinking to the night stars, communicating with them. You wanted to glow for someone one day, too. Knowing your luck, you would shine a vibrant red in a sea of blue. Mates were one thing, compatibility was another.
You carelessly trailed after another firefly, completely immersed in your one-track mind, before the sharp end of a blade swung an inch within your vision. Your body screeched to a sudden halt when that life-threatening sword stared you down, your knees buckling from under you. The quick rush of adrenaline shocking your body almost made you sick to your stomach. Eyes wide with pure horror, you held your breath while the sword’s owner studied your fear-stricken expression.
Lotor’s eyes were glowing yellow in the dark and you found that you could not look away, could not pull your gaze to anywhere else, for you were trapped. Ensnared. Captured.
Stars and moon above, he was beautiful.
Lotor had hoped you would come back tonight. He meant you no harm and to show it, he slowly lowered his sword away from your face. Perhaps it was his keen instincts that made him jump the gun, so to speak. All he heard was a rush of footsteps behind him and, lo and behold, he automatically poised himself in preparation for an inevitable attack. He could’ve nearly decapitated your head clean from your shoulders.
When the sword was down and the threat of death was no longer hovering above your nose, you scrambled up to your feet and immediately ran behind a tree. The trunk would hide you, yes, but Lotor was no fool and you were dishonorable to think him one. Or rather...perhaps you were the fool here? His ears twitched as he strained them to hear your heavy breathing, those glowing eyes of his still staring in your direction to see if you had run further into the forest.
No, you were still there. He could hear your little heart beating oh so fast.
Lotor turned his back to you, not at all concerned that you would attack him. No, in fact, if he was to take a wild guess, you wanted to...watch him. Study him, make sure he doesn’t attack you again. Play it cautiously. He could respect that. Fireflies floated around his body, illuminating the sweat glistening on his back from practicing his dance. With the utmost concentration, he raised his swords again, crouched low with one leg reaching out for balance, then twirled the blades with a smooth motion of his wrists.
If it was a show you wanted, Lotor certainly did not mind indulging a forest nymph.
It was considered good luck, after all.
Every night Lotor danced, he saw you creep closer and closer to him. He would commend you on how stealthy you were when you put your mind to it. At first, he was hesitant about keeping you around as an audience. Though, as days past, he slowly began looking forward to these quiet, silent nights for two reasons. One, having you around would prepare him for having a thousand eyes watching him, judging him, waiting for him to make a mistake.
And two? Lotor found the company strangely...euphoric on an astral level.
You said nothing, but neither did he. There was a mutual understanding of each other's presence. The most he would hear from you was the crunch of an apple or the shuffling of leaves when you shifted in the trees. Sometimes, the most he would see of you was your arm or leg hanging freely over a branch, telling Lotor that you had fallen prey to the needs of the night.
The dance was hypnotic and you fell victim to it every time.
And then came the fire.
It was burning amethyst, wild, and dangerous. Lotor was a fool to bring it in the forest. Surely he knew water was ineffective against it if so much a dried leaf lit up? But oh, it was...so gorgeous, darkening in shades of lilac as wisps of artic blue disappeared in small flecks. It glowed a deep, vibrant violet hue with every expert turn of Lotor’s wrist. Dance for me, let me gaze upon your beauty. The blades were not simply torches, they were coexisting with the flame. Hold me, for I am dying and you are my sanctuary. Living with one another as if two lovers were clinging in a final embrace.
It was beautiful to see, like watching a comet smash a moon into fragmented pieces. Savage, but a force of nature demanding to be acknowledged.
Lotor’s hair flowed with his practiced maneuvers, the pale strands gleaming with the radiant, orchid flame as he spun the sword through a figure eight motion. His wrists were joined together and they only separated when he suddenly leaped through the air, his bare muscles flexing as a show of strength. Those hands were still whirling the flame-lit blades, but this time they were outstretched at his sides. It was almost as if he was protecting himself, shielding his lean body in a cocoon of lavender fire.
A warning to his enemies, a way to ward off unfriendly predators. Though, to you...it was something completely different.
When he landed gracefully on his feet once more, chest heaving from the exertion of the jump, he saw your hooded eyes transfix on him. No, not him. Not specifically. You were enamored with the blades, the fire that was licking his body mere seconds ago. Even in the dark with only the glow for light, he could see your pupils expand in want. He could see your hand reach out to him, to those bewitching swords of his.
Lotor yanked the blades back, preventing you from satisfying your curiosity. It was for your own safety, he reasoned to himself. However, you had already felt the brush of the flame radiate to your fingertips. You snapped out of your reverie as he suddenly knelt down in front of you, those nebulous eyes staring deeply into your own aroused ones. The nerves on your fingers tingled pleasantly.
And they were cold.
The next night, Lotor had you in his lap. Your back was flushed against his bare chest and he was amazed with how docile you were now. His larger body kept you caged against the chill of the night, though he had a gut feeling the cold was the least of your concerns. He had caught you, finally, but something was telling him that it was the other way around. Lotor may have had both of your hands pinned in his one of his, for your safety, of course, yet that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stop nuzzling behind your ear.
Lotor was sickly intoxicated by you.
His palm was open in front of your face and, normally, that wouldn’t be of any interest. The true reason why you were so compliant, so relaxed, was because his hand was on fire. Cold flames danced and twisted into the night sky as little fireflies fluttered around his fingers. They didn’t die, no, in fact...they lit up. Only for a few seconds before it would extinguish immediately once they flew too far from his palm.
You wanted to touch so badly. Lotor did, too.
His lips pressed against the vein of your neck, so soft, so warm. So...inviting. That dastardly tongue of his slipped through his teeth and Lotor licked up the column of offered skin, leaving behind a wet, hot trail. This was the fire you knew, the fire of passion searing into your skin and lighting your soul for him to feel. He was going to burn you alive, yet you were going to cut his heart into a million little pieces.
Lotor sighed and pulled your body harder against his, more than okay with nipping and biting here and there. He would allow himself a moment of longing, of needy kisses to fulfill his selfish desires. His heart wanted this, wanted to keep you all to himself, wanted to engulf your glow until nothing but darkness remained. In his arms, forever. Lotor nudged under your chin, making you tilt your head more and reveal that luscious skin to his hungry mouth. He angled himself so you could look at him instead, stare into those eyes reflecting the fire’s dance, look at me, only me, then he planted his lips upon yours.
Just like the burning flame, he would consume all of you.
Lotor was ready.
He faced the masses, bare chested and chiseled with only a long cloth to cover his crotch, a proud mirror image of composed perfection. An emperor, a king, a deity, worthy of their doubtful and judgmental gazes. He could see his father and mother on the throne, armored with piercing eyes and a demeanor that only came with 10,000 years of ruling the universe. My greatest shame. A smear on Galra history. A challenge flashed before Lotor’s eyes before drifting down to look at you.
Kneeling, scared and confused, trapped and bound. Your eyes, oh, they were so wet as you begged him silently for an answer. Why am I here? I don’t want to be here. Let me go. Let’s go back. This was too open for you, too much staring and exposure, especially for someone who spent their whole life away from the capital. There was a good reason for that, too.
Lotor took a step closer to you. You flinched away. His stoic expression softened as he crouched to your position, lower even, as if displaying he wasn’t here to hurt you, you could trust him. Trust him like before and, when those violet flames danced in his eyes again, you conceded. So soft, so gentle, how could this man be anything but a saint? He proved himself again by unlatching your restraints and tossing them into the fire pits. These will no longer touch your skin. You were free.
But you didn’t run. You didn’t want to, not without him.
His hand came up to brush the back of his knuckles over your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears that fell from your eyes. Your heart lodged in your throat at the intimate caress. Hold me and love me and cherish me. Lotor would do just that, he would cup your jaw in his larger hand, he would stroke his thumb over your bottom lip. He would pull you in for a searing kiss, burning with raw emotions and primal want. That was all he needed to do to silently tell you everything will be okay. Let me take care of you.
I love you.
The music began and the haunting flames in the pits flared to life, standing over the two of you like the titans of space and time. Lotor picked up his blades and twisted it once, twice, before swiftly slashing them through the fire. It lit the steel in gorgeous mixes of cobalt and amethyst and you couldn’t help but part your lips in awe at the violent power before you.
Lotor lowered the tips of the blades to the ground, eyes on me, and watched as the flames traveled to circle around you. The chill grazed your toes and you instinctively pulled yourself closer before the fire dissipated into thin air. He thrust his sword into the sky, crouching like a panther ready to strike, and moved with the grace of a shooting star. Lotor started slow, teasing, testing his own willpower against the forces of nature itself. It was marvelous to witness him bend the flames and fan the desires swelling in your chest.
Then, he danced faster. More agile, more swiftly than you’ve ever seen during the nights you two spent together. His blades criss-crossed, hissed before the crowd, and he dragged the flame oh so closely to his body covered in a healthy sheen of sweat. He swayed like a drunken snake, but you knew better, you’ve seen it with your own two eyes. You know how he moved, how his dances were a beautiful collision of a black hole and an exploding nova.
Both pulling you in and scorching your very being.
Lotor’s focus then honed in on you, just like the first night he saw you hiding in those branches. Oh, but this time, things will turn out much different for you. He knew this time you wouldn’t flee, for your feelings for him were more than skin deep. It licked your very soul. It stoked the fire in your heart for him and only him. And he would have it no other way. You were his, finally, and no one but himself could ever make you feel so alive.
He rushed at you, too fast for you to blink, too fast for you to react at all. But oh, the way he twisted his body, enchanting you into a lull sense of safety, rid any thoughts of danger floating around in your mind. A sharp schwing resonated in the air and you twitched, the scalding sting of pain cutting into your throat. It didn’t quite reach into your brain yet that you had just been severely injured as the comforting cool of the lilac flames coated your wound.
There was no scream, not even a gasp, that escaped your lips.
Blood seeped out of your neck so beautifully, like a fountain of life seeking to claim new waters, and Lotor could see that same light drain from your eyes. Your deluded eyes, full of admiration and obsession, so lost in his sensual dance that it hadn’t even registered you were dying. He showed no pity, for his feelings for you were true. He loved you, he craved you so much, and nothing, not even death itself, will tear you away from him. He decided your fate, your choices, your life.
You were his in mind, body, and soul.
The fire had numbed the wound and begun spreading to unexplored territory. He let it roam your body, freeze your skin and numb all your senses. Lotor brought the blade up to his mouth, devilish tongue already out, and pressed it against himself for a second. The bittersweet flame tickled his nerves and, before it could spread, he closed his mouth and ate it. Swallowed it whole so the chill merged with his soul and bound you to him. Both in this life and the next.
This was a show, proof that he could take an innocent life with no mercy, no regret, no hesitation. It was the true meaning of VREPIT SA. Victory or death. Here and now, he will gain the trust of the masses by taking your life. You, who didn’t run, didn’t flee when given the chance. You, that showed with undeniable proof how powerful the illusion of compassion can be.
Lotor’s dance was finished. Your kneeling body became devoured in the purple flames and he saw your spirit embark into the unknown. He fulfilled his duty and now you were to follow yours, whether you wanted to or not. Lotor was right, you were his good luck. It will be your ghost that will forever haunt his steps and remind him of his goals.
And of his love.
#lotor x reader#lotor#dual wielding lotor#FIRE DANCER LOTOR#MAKE IT HAPPEN#MAKE YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE#blood#death#public execution#spacestories#god i wanna draw that so bad
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Sparks Fly
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: LoliRock
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Iristo, Iris/Mephisto
Characters: Iris, Mephisto
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Panic Attacks, Trauma, Gramorr is a Jerk, Fluff and Angst, Secret Crush, Mutual Pining, oblivious dorks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rain, Kissing in the Rain
Summary:
A sudden downpour, a shop awning, a pair of pining dorks, and a severe case of Brontophobia. Mix them together and what do you get?
(LoliRock Multishipping Week 2017, Day One - Lazy Morning/Rain)
Read here on ao3 or below! Enjoy!
This oneshot literally would not exist without @followmetoyourdoom and @margoteve giving their suggestions, additions, and support. I love you guys! :D
Oh, also, this is set sometime after "If You Can't Beat 'Em" and before "Princess Brenda"
Iris was out walking Amaru when the clouds first started to gather. It didn't seem like a big deal. The forecast hadn't predicted anything more than a partly cloudy afternoon.
It soon became clear that the forecast was wrong. The clouds were getting darker, scooting faster across the sky.
"I don't like the look of this, Amaru. We'd better go back." Iris turned-
-and nearly smacked into a smirking boy with purple hair.
"Are you lost, Princess?" He leaned down a little to look at her.
Amaru growled at him, while Iris shifted into a fighting position.
"Mephisto?! What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "Eh, Praxina's running errands and I got bored."
She frowned skeptically. "'Running errands,' huh?"
Mephisto glanced to the side. "...We do have to survive on this miserable rock, you know."
"What's she using for money?"
He scowled. That got under his skin.
She was on the right track, after all. Praxina was obtaining food and supplies through some... slightly felonious methods. But he didn't want to admit it. They weren't exactly proud of that aspect of their situation.
"Look, if I were you, Princess, I would be more worried about myself." His smirk was back, sharp and wicked as a viper. "...Perhaps I should get Gramorr something pretty, while we're out."
He raised his hand, summoning a magic circle. Iris mirrored him, gritting her teeth. A battle was about to erupt when a crack of thunder distracted them. The clouds opened and fat heavy raindrops started pelting them. Amaru whined loudly and ran under a nearby shop awning. Iris followed, covering her head with her hands.
"Hey!" Mephisto cried, annoyed. "I'm pretty sure I'm a bigger threat than a few drops of water!" He stayed where he was.
The raindrops were huge and cold and falling hard enough to hurt. Iris was already pretty well soaked from her short exposure. Mephisto was utterly drenched within the minute.
Finally, he gave a loud sigh and teleported under the awning. His arms were crossed as he pouted, refusing to look at Iris.
"...Truce?" she offered.
Another sigh. "Fine, whatever." He stood as far away from her as he possibly could.
His wet bangs were plastered to his forehead and his eyeliner was smudged. Basically, he looked like an emo kitten that had just narrowly avoided drowning.
Amaru shivered at Iris' feet, prompting her to pick him up and mumble apologies into his fur.
Mephisto watched enviously. He was soaked to the bone and Iris was mostly dry, and yet she got to hug the ornery little heat source? It wasn't fair.
The silence dragged on uncomfortably, both of them lost in their own thoughts. The rain showed no signs of stopping.
It was... strange, being alone with Mephisto. It was the first time since That Day, as Iris had begun to think of it. It felt oddly reminiscent, both of them standing there awkwardly.
Memories of That Day flashed through her head. How good it had felt to fight alongside him. The things he'd said, the way he'd looked at her... It couldn't be more different than his current grumpy attitude. She wondered if it had been a fluke, a one time thing. Or... maybe something else, entirely.
She wondered if he'd lost sleep, thinking about it, as she had. If he blushed when he remembered her words, as she did. If his heart was currently thumping wildly in his chest, as hers was.
Mephisto was wondering the same exact thing.
"Do you-" "I'm-" They began at the same time, then stopped and blinked at each other.
"Uh, you first," Iris said.
He coughed. "...Just that I'm gonna be in so much trouble. Praxina is not gonna be happy about this."
Yes, that was definitely what he'd been about to say. He certainly wasn't about to make a joke to try to lighten the mood. Maybe get Iris to smile. She did have such a lovely smile...
Iris just nodded, chewing her lip and averting her gaze.
"...What was your thing?" Mephisto eventually prompted, curiosity getting the better of him.
"Oh, um, nothing, just, um..." She swallowed and forced herself to look at him. "...Do you really think I'm pretty?"
His heart jumped, his face instantly coloring. "...Did, uh, did I say- Um, why do you ask?"
Iris' own cheeks were glowing pink. "You, um, when you threatened to capture me, earlier, remember? You inferred I was 'something pretty.'"
Mephisto squirmed, his face going redder. "I- I mean, I-" He covered his embarrassment with annoyance. "I have eyes, Princess! Do you think I'm blind? Or an utter fool? Any idiot can see you're the most beautiful girl on his whole horrible planet!"
No, no, no! his brain screamed, far too late. Shut up, shut up! Klatznik! No! Stupid!
Iris stared at him in shock, her blue eyes shining like stars in the gray light. He looked away quickly.
"Th-thank you..."
"It's an impartial fact, Princess." His voice was hollow and he refused to look at her. "Don't read too much into it."
For Klatznic's sake, don't read too much into it, please...
Lightning flashed overhead, followed by a low rumble. The wind picked up and started blowing the rain towards them.
Mephisto flinched and moved closer to the wall, away from the edges of the awning. This inadvertently brought him closer to Iris, but he wasn't thinking about that right now.
Iris moved in that direction, too, trying to stay out of the rain. Once she was closer to Mephisto, she saw that his jaw was clenched. His usually lively eyes were dull and haunted.
"Mephisto? Are you all right?"
He hesitated. "Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I-"
Another rumble of thunder. He cut himself off with a quiet whimper, shutting his eyes.
Iris reached out with the hand that wasn't holding Amaru. Mephisto sensed the movement and shied away from her.
"I'm fine!" he snapped.
Iris jerked her hand back, unable to hide a flash of hurt.
"Just leave me alone." Mephisto hugged himself tighter and turned away a little. He felt like a jerk, but hey, it was her fault for treating him like a normal person.
Iris frowned. "If you detest my company so much, why don't you just teleport inside?"
"I can't, it doesn't work like-"
The world flashed white, startling them. Mephisto felt a stab of dread, but didn't have time to prepare himself.
BOOM! The sound reverberated in their chests and through the ground. It shook them to their very core, filling the air around them until there was nothing but the sound.
"PLEASE, NO!" Mephisto immediately fell to his knees, a crashing wave of sheer panic searing through him. "I'M SORRY!"
"Mephisto?!" Iris quickly knelt down, letting Amaru hop onto the sidewalk.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please, please..." He was clutching his head and muttering. His eyes were huge and wild as he stared straight ahead, completely unseeing.
Iris started getting worried. She'd never seen him like this, before. "Mephisto, snap out of it!"
He didn't respond to her. It was as if he were trapped somewhere deep inside his own mind, unable to do anything but whimper and beg for mercy.
Her gut instinct was to help him. She hated to see anybody in pain. It was who she was, she was a helper. She told herself that was the only reason her stomach was twisting into painful knots and tears were welling up in her eyes.
"...Please, please, Master, I'm begging you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! " His voice was raw and broken as his pleas became more desperate, more terrified.
Iris physically shook him, genuinely scared now. " Mephisto! "
"Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll do anything, Master! Please, ple- please! Please! " His whole body convulsed with sobs of pure misery. He was tormenting himself.
Iris was panicking, now. The shaking was only making him worse, but what else could she do? Maybe a quieter approach?
"Mephisto?" She moved a little closer. "Mephisto? It's okay. I don't know what's going on in your head, but it's not real. Okay? You're safe. You're okay. See?" She held her hand out where he could see it.
His pleading faded to incoherent babbles, though he was still crying. With painful slowness, like moving through tar, he reached out and took her hand. She could feel him trembling and it tore at her heart, sending tears rolling down her face.
They stayed like that for a long while, Iris repeating "You're safe, it's okay," over and over while Mephisto clung to her hand, anchoring himself. He still flinched at every new rumble, and the storm wasn't ending any time soon.
"We need to go inside," Iris said gently. "Can you walk?"
Mephisto was still breathing too fast, but he'd stopped crying. He managed to shake his head. He couldn't imagine moving, right now.
"Can you teleport?"
"N-no."
Iris looked around. There was nobody on the street because of the storm, and there was a lull in the traffic.
"Amaru?" Iris looked at him. "Can you take us to the Arena, please?"
Amaru cocked his head at her, making a confused sound.
"Not to fight," she hurried to clarify, "just to get Mephisto out of here."
" Amaru! " He nodded and teleported the three of them into the pocket dimension.
Mephisto blinked, startled by the change. "Wh-where-"
"It's okay, it's okay, you're safe." Iris quickly formed a slightly sloping pillar of pink crystal and leaned him against it. "It's safe, here. No thunder."
Mephisto realized this and his whole body unclenched. His eyes already looked a little clearer and he was able to focus on her. "...Thank you."
Iris smiled a little and squeezed the hand she was still holding. Amaru nuzzled his way under Mephisto's other hand, setting his dislike of the villain aside in favor of helping Iris comfort him. Mephisto started clumsily petting him, fingers moving more out of instinct than anything else.
Eventually, Mephisto felt enough like himself again to be ashamed. He was so weak and foolish and cowardly. He wanted to resent Iris for seeing him like that, but... he couldn't. He could never bring himself to hate her.
"...Why did you help me?" he asked, struggling to understand her actions.
Iris shrugged. "You needed help, Mephisto. I couldn't just leave you there." Her attempt to sound casual wasn't quite successful, as pain crept into her eyes. "...Not like that."
He nodded numbly, unsure how to interpret her reply and afraid to get his hopes up.
"...Do you wanna talk about it?"
"What?" He looked at her incredulously. "No! I'm evil, Iris! Evil people don't sit around, talking about their feelings!"
"Well, maybe you should, considering." She raised her eyebrows significantly.
He sighed, unwilling to admit she had a point.
"...Does he hurt you very often?" Iris asked in a low, soft voice.
Mephisto's gaze jerked to meet hers, alarm and something very like shame warring in his eyes. "Wha- Why would you ask that?"
Iris looked down at their hands and stroked her thumb across his gloved fingers. "...I've never seen anybody react that way to thunder, before. I..." She took a deep breath. "...I don't like to think he's been hurting you. But you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."
Mephisto averted his eyes. "N-no, of course not, Gramorr would never... He... He trusts us, we're his..." He trailed off with a sigh.
Who was he kidding? This was Iris he was talking to. She knew full well what Gramorr was capable of. Besides, she knew Mephisto well enough to know when he was lying. She might be oblivious at seeing through their disguises, but plain old lies were something she understood.
"...Sometimes?" he finally whispered.
Iris nodded, blinking sympathetic tears out of her eyes. Her imagination had filled in the blanks, well enough.
"How dare he?" She grit her teeth. For some reason, the image of Mephisto writhing in pain made her incredibly angry and upset. She'd never wanted to punch Gramorr more than she did at that moment.
He looked at her in surprise, wondering why she cared so much. Before he could respond, Iris had seized him in a tight embrace. He was still wet, but she didn't care.
"I had no idea," she muttered. "I never thought..."
He froze at her touch. Was this a hug? Praxina hadn't hugged him in months. "...We didn't want you to." He tried to shift away from her, tried to stay mad and resist the urge to hug her back. "We don't need your pity."
She pulled away. "Pity? I admire you, Mephisto."
"...Come again?"
"How can you be so cheerful, so strong, when he's abused you like that? You're so brave."
"...Me?" His face colored. "Strong? Brave? I think you have me confused with Praxina."
Iris shook her head stubbornly. "As far as I'm concerned, you're way braver than she is. She's let it turn her angry and bitter. You? You've still got some good in you." She placed her hand over his heart impulsively.
This made her aware of two things. For one, Mephisto's wet shirt clung to his skin and was ever so slightly transparent, just enough to make out his pleasantly toned build. For another, his heart was beating rapidly under her hand.
"...I... um..." Iris' cheeks burned.
He was equally flustered. Part of him wanted to escape, to get her hand off his chest. Another, more dangerous part wanted to stay and take her in his arms and hold her close and-
Iris drew back, looking away. "Sorry, sorry..." He didn't like her that way, she needed to stop imprinting her feelings onto him.
Mephisto was disappointed, but not surprised. Surely, she could never feel the same as he did. "It's fine. Really."
His gloves were getting cold in the absence of Iris' hands, reminding him that they were still soaking wet. He regretfully peeled them off and set them aside, rubbing his hands on his pants to dry them.
Iris suddenly grabbed his hand to look at it. "Oh my gosh, what happened to you?"
There were several scars on his hands, most of them of the non-permanent variety but not yet faded.
"Oh, you know... Various incidents." He shrugged. "A couple crystal scrapes... Cut myself on a rock..."
"What about these?" She traced a curved line of older, faint scars.
Mephisto winced at the memory. "...Banes."
Iris gave an angry hum. "That stupid cat..." Without much thought, she brought that hand up and brushed a quick, light kiss over the marks. "All better."
Mephisto barely stifled a squeak, his face bright red. "...Um?"
Iris realized what she'd just done and blushed. "I, uh, that's what my Aunt Ellen always used to do when I hurt myself. You, erm, kiss it better..."
Mephisto couldn't quite explain the lump in his throat. "...Oh."
Embarrassed, Iris set his hands down and hugged herself. "I'm so sorry I keep touching you. It's just a habit. I won't do it again."
She cursed her overly familiar attitude. She was used to being touchy-feely with her friends, but obviously she was making him uncomfortable.
Stupid, stupid girl. He was a self-declared villain, he couldn't possibly like her back.
Mephisto swallowed hard. Did he dare? What if he had miscalculated? Even more frightening, what if he hadn't?
He looked at her beautiful face for a moment, then sat up a little. Yes, he dared.
He reached out hesitantly and took her hand with uncharacteristic gentleness.
"...Please do," he said in a low, almost sultry voice. "You can touch me all you like, Princess. I don't mind."
Iris met his gaze, shocked. It was like something out of her romantic daydreams. Maybe this was a daydream. He couldn't actually be saying these things.
"You mean it?" she said, fully expecting him to say no, to laugh in her face and tell her it was an evil prank.
"I've never meant anything more." His eyes were soft and affectionate and his expression sincere.
Maybe he was still a little loopy from the breakdown, or maybe he'd finally become aware of something he'd always known. Or both. It didn't matter. All he cared about was the warm feeling that filled his chest and made his toes tingle and his brain fuzzy.
Iris moved closer to him, tentatively reaching out to touch his face. She thought maybe he would change his mind and move away. Instead, he leaned forward to meet her hand. She was silently screaming.
This was all she'd wanted to do ever since That Day. Okay, not all, but it was high on the list.
She giggled for pure happiness. "...I never returned your compliment."
"Hmm?" He was preoccupied with intertwining their fingers and drawing her closer.
"You said I was the most beautiful girl on the planet. I didn't have the nerve to tell you you're the handsomest boy."
He blinked at her with wide eyes. "R-really? You think so?"
Iris nodded as her heart thumped loudly in her ears. Had she always been this attracted to him? Or was it new? She wasn't sure when it had started, now.
Mephisto was relishing the feeling of her skin. When was the last time he'd touched somebody with his bare hands? Years ago, maybe. And it definitely wasn't like this.
They were close, now. So close. Their faces were only a few inches apart, eyes lingering on lips, hot breath mixing.
They both wanted so very badly to close the distance, to quench the longing in their souls, to pretend, just for a moment, that this wasn't all just a hopeless fantasy.
Amaru tugged on Iris' dress and made a concerned noise.
The spell was broken. The pair froze and began regretfully drifting apart, the disappointment in the air palatable.
"We should go," Iris said sadly, a weight settling in her chest.
"Yeah." He sighed. "Praxina will be looking for me."
"Can you walk?"
"Yes, I feel okay, now. Thanks to you."
They climbed to their feet, shooting each other reluctant glances. Neither of them wanted to leave this place, this moment.
A flash of light and they were standing under the awning again. It was still raining, but the sun was starting to break through the clouds. The thunder was gone.
Iris and Mephisto stood there for a minute in silence. It felt like they'd been dreaming a beautiful, perfect dream, only to be awoken by a cold bucket of reality.
Out here, they would be enemies, again. It would be as if nothing had changed. As if their hearts weren't breaking.
"I'd... better be getting back home." Iris bent down to reattach Amaru's leash. Her movements were slow and clumsy.
Mephisto forced a smirk, though it was painfully insincere. "Guess I'll see you around, Princess."
Iris gave an equally unconvincing smile. "Not if I see you first." She took off at a run, trying to dodge the raindrops. And her emotions, for that matter.
Mephisto's face fell the moment her back was turned.
What just happened between them... They could never discuss that. Never even acknowledge it. Just like the first incident. They had to be sensible. This was the real world. They were enemies. That wonderful, fantastic feeling in his chest... He had to forget that. For her sake, just as much as his.
He clenched his fists, tears welling up in his eyes. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to go after her. But, no, he couldn't. He couldn't. He had to stay put, had to do the right thing, the smart thing-
No! NO! He didn't want this. He didn't want to be sensible. He didn't want to forget that feeling. To forget her.
Mephisto, for once in his life, knew exactly what he wanted.
With a determined expression and pounding heart, he teleported into the street and started running.
How had she gotten so far in such a short time? Where was she? Why did these tears have to obscure his vision?
If he lost her now, before he had a chance to-
Wait, he saw it, a flash of pink and yellow- around the corner- a burst of speed-
"Iris, wait!"
She turned with a gasp. "Mephisto?"
He ran into her arms, almost knocking her off her feet as he grabbed her in a frantic embrace.
Iris returned it after a surprised second, burying her wet face in his chest. She was crying, just as he was. Their tears mixed with the rainwater as they clung to each other and sobbed with pain and relief and happiness and fear, all rolled into one overwhelming mess.
Once he regained some control of himself, Mephisto released her and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. He didn't plan what he was about to do, he just did what felt right.
He pressed his lips to Iris' in an odd mixture of gentleness and desperation. She froze in shock.
Mephisto pulled back, cursing his own boldness. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have-"
Iris stood up on tiptoe and kissed him back, melting into his arms with a contented hum as her fingers tangled in his hair. It felt like she'd been suffocating, and all of a sudden she could breathe.
They kissed as if their lives depended on it, as if they would never have this chance again, completely lost in the moment as the rain fell like confetti around them. The kiss felt like fireworks, like electricity, like a riptide.
Finally, they parted and gasped breathlessly, staring into each other's shining eyes with something that felt alarmingly like love but couldn't possibly be.
"...We can't pretend nothing happened." Mephisto ran his fingers through her hair, half in awe that it was ok to do so. "Not again. I... I don't know what this feeling is, but I don't want it to stop. I want to see where it takes us." He touched his forehead to hers, pouring his entire soul into his words. "Will you give me a chance?"
Iris gave him a smile that felt like sunshine in the rain. "Yes, of course, I will! I've been dreaming about this ever since the last time, when we fought together and when we talked and you said such sweet things and I felt such a connection, and I just..." She nuzzled his face, wrapping her arms around his neck as if she never intended to let go. "...I know it's going to be difficult, but... It's worth a shot, right?"
"Worth a shot," he echoed, grinning like an idiot.
"We should try and keep it a secret, shouldn't we?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely. Praxina would kill me, and Gramorr would do worse than that." He shuddered. "...Are you busy tomorrow?"
"Nope, just a practice in the morning. My whole afternoon is clear." She absently brushed a lock of wet hair behind his ear, so it was out of his face.
"Maybe we can do something, then?"
"Why, Mephisto, are you asking me on a date?" She bit her lip cheekily.
"I... I guess I am, yes." He laughed. "It would be a first for me, I admit. Meet me at the park at two?"
"Sure!" Her smiled faded to concern. "Although, isn't that a little exposed? We have to be really careful."
"Nah, I'll come in disguise, it'll be fine."
"How will I recognize you? I'm not exactly good at seeing through your disguises..."
"I'll let you in on a little secret, Princess. Don't tell the others, but..." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "...Our eyes are always the same."
"Ah, so if I find a silly boy with the most perfect green eyes..." she teased.
He snickered, blushing. "That'll be me, yes."
She giggled and gave him a quick peck on the nose. "See you, then?"
"I'll count the minutes, dear Princess."
"And I the seconds," she whispered back.
One more kiss, this time filled with a sort of reckless hope, and then she was off. She tossed a smile over her shoulder as she and Amaru hurried on their way. There was a song bursting inside her, spilling out as a melody under her breath.
Mephisto waved a little, sighing dreamily. He looked up, letting the rain fall over his face. He suddenly couldn't feel the cold at all.
Swooning, he found himself hovering a few inches off the pavement. He stopped that immediately. Two hours ago, he couldn't have cared less if humans found out about magic, but he knew it mattered to Iris, and that it might endanger her if word got out, so he was resolved to be more careful, from now on.
Still, the giddy joy inside him refused to be contained. He turned and started skipping, actually skipping back the way he came. Enjoying the way the puddles splashed when he landed in them. Grinning like a simpleton, spinning in joyous circles. He felt like a little kid, happier than he'd been in so long.
He finally stopped and leaned against a wall, his head somewhere in the dispersing clouds.
A whooshing sound and burst of red light signaled Praxina's arrival beside him. She was holding an overstuffed backpack.
" There you are. I've got everything. Let's get out of here before the law enforcing humans show up and pester us."
Mephisto kept his expression carefully normal. A regular old evil scowl, even as his eyes danced. "Took you long enough. Let's go."
"...Wait a second." She gave him a sharp look up and down.
He held his breath, positive she'd found him out. How? He'd barely said anything! He started phrasing his response, which mostly considered of begging her not to tell Gramorr.
"You're soaking wet! And what happened to your gloves?"
Mephisto had to stop himself from showing the overwhelming relief flooding him. "Uh, I kinda... lost them." He gave a nervous laugh.
Praxina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not wasting our time looking for them. You'll have to do without."
His gloves in exchange for his happiness. Seemed like a pretty good deal to Mephisto.
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MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE
Might want to rewind a bit...
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WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART SIX
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It was a blessing in disguise that Aeris had decided to show up early tonight. Because judging from her attitude the other day, Kim probably would have chewed Michael Kay out like no tomorrow once they were alone together for even a second.
Michael counted himself so incredibly lucky as he spotted her sitting on a park bench. He waved with excitement as he approached.
"I hope you weren't waiting here too long. I try to be early because Kim says she'll make me do push ups if I'm late." he remarked. Aeris just raised an eyebrow as she chuckled in response.
"Seriously?"
Michael grinned. "Nah, I'm just kidding. She's not that crazy."
In truth, he actually wasn't sure what the consequence for being late was. He was probably better off not knowing.
Aeris stood up from the bench, her usual checkered blazer replaced with a much heavier dark blue winter jacket. She shivered a bit from the cold.
"Sorry, not really used to this weather. Where's your friend Kim by the way?" she asked innocently, hands now stuffed in her pockets.
Michael looked around, now wondering the same thing. "I'm not really sure. I was expecting her to be waiting for me here. You know, because I disobeyed direct orders or whatever."
The blonde's gaze switched to rock formation up above. Her tone of voice seemed so pleasant.
"Maybe something came up. We might as well use the time without her while we have it. You did say you wanted to show me your songs, right?"
Michael perked up. "Yeah, totally!"
Together, Michael and Aeris made their way up the rock formation. To Michael, it was a bit of a surprise nobody really hung around Central Park on nights like this. He could only guess that the recent drop in temperature this early in September was probably the cause for the emptiness.
Once they made it to the summit, Aeris took a moment to look out at the view. She smiled to herself.
"There's kind of timeless quality about the city, you know. It's so different than countryside. I seen that stuff all the time, so it gets old. But all these lights and this noise, I don't know, it's got its charm."
"You said you were from Texas right? I wouldn't know what that's like. I haven't been a step out of this city my whole life." Michael replied, stretching for a moment before reaching for his headphones.
He was just about to put them in when he noticed the expression of calm on Aeris's face. In that brief moment she looked so at peace with the world. It was then that an idea he hadn't realized before popped into his head.
"Hey." he began, coming up right behind her. "Why don't you show me one of your songs? I mean, I don't even know what kind of music you like."
Aeris looked down, clearly uncomfortable now. "I don't think that's such a good idea. You wouldn't like my music very much."
Michael's expression became dour. "Who cares if I like it or not? I'm barely a week in as a Music Master. The more stuff I can see, the better. Kim says it'll help me prepare for the unexpected anyway."
He smiled again, sitting down on the rocky ground with legs crossed. Leaning back, it was clear to Aeris he wasn't taking no for an answer.
"Just before Kim gets here at least. I get the feeling your music's gonna blow us all away."
Not saying a word, Aeris reached for the small light blue music player in her left pocket. She stared down at the device, a hint of longing in her eyes. Inside this tiny player were uncountable musical memories of her childhood. Just one song was enough to make her remember a picaresque sunny afternoon, and the taste of her grandmother's crisp, perfectly squeezed lemonade.
But in the same fashion, it made her remember the first time she ever used a song effect. She remembered the sound of glass shattering and the burning, most horrible pain she had ever felt in her entire life. She might have allowed a tear to escape from the mere thought if not for Michael's presence.
Completely unaware of course, Michael just continued to wait patiently, and on some level Aeris didn't want to disappoint.
Aeris couldn't keep making excuses forever.
She'd gotten better, and she certainly wasn't a child anymore. She had to stop being so panicked like this. She had to have control.
"Okay." Aeris sighed, finally relenting to both Michael, and more importantly, herself.
Michael grinned as wide as ever, clapping his hands together loudly.
"One song though. And only one." she further clarified.
With that, Aeris pulled her sky blue headphones from her jacket pocket. She gazed at them for a moment in her black glove-covered palm. To most people, they were just an instrument used to listen to music. But to her, they were conduits to a very dangerous power.
Her song of choice was already in mind as she put in her headphones and scrolled through her music player. Michael just silently looked on with excitement.
Exhaling, Aeris found what she was looking for and pressed play.
Unlike with Kim, the music wasn't easily apparent in the air. It took Aeris more than two seconds to Harmonize, though she could only assume it was just nerves since she hadn't done it in so long.
Then, as Michael bit his nails in anticipation, he heard the opening drums clang into the air.
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It was something so mellow compared to Kim's rough punk rock or Michael's own wild disco. Aeris smiled wide to herself as she brought her arms to her side. It took another moment, but Michael's eyes widened as cold blue lightning began to dance from her fingertips. She looked at it with satisfaction, opening her palm as it surged and dove between her fingers.
Finally, the lightning relaxed to her will, content with arcing itself just above her forearm.
Michael simply clapped with contentment. "Talk about selling yourself short. That's so cool!"
He got up, intending to walk closer to get a better look, when Aeris spoke suddenly.
"Hey, watch it! You have no idea how much this stuff hurts." she warned him, and luckily, he was smart enough to stop in his tracks.
Relief washed over her where there was but a moment of panic. "Sorry, but I'm jumpy for your own good. You do want to keep your crazy hair after all, right?"
Michael laughed in response. "Uh, duh! I couldn't imagine my life otherwise."
"No surprise there. Anyway, check this out." she said, now crouching down so that she could easily put her hand just above the rock itself. Aeris focused her senses, and as Michael watched, he could see the lightning from her palm begin to violently arc into the rock face below. It was but mere seconds before it turned black and scorched.
Michael gulped as he surveyed the damage. "Yikes. I'd hate to think what that could do to a person."
"Me too. I still have trouble controlling it even now." Aeris replied, pausing the song and watching as the lightning dissipated into nothingness. "I know your friend Kim is nasty about it, but she has a point about this Music Master stuff. It's super dangerous. You have to understand that, Michael. Those songs that normal people get to listen to without worrying about a thing? For us, they can kill someone."
"I know, I know." Michael acknowledged, now just a little bit tired of hearing the same lecture yet again. "That's why we're meeting up here on Fridays. So that kind of thing doesn't happen. At least, that's what Kim says."
Michael looked around again, and then towards the rocks they came up from. Reminded of her again, he could see no sign of Kim Ramone anywhere. Focusing his hearing, he couldn't even pick up the sound of any music she might be listening to.
"So does she usually take this long?" Aeris asked, her hands now back in the comfort of her warm jacket pockets.
"Maybe something really did come up." Michael commented, though he couldn't mask his uncertainty very well.
His heart rose up to his throat. "I sure hope something came up."
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There was something undeniably creepy about this whole situation. Even Calvin couldn't lie to himself about it.
Nevertheless, he still smiled with satisfaction as he swiped through the pictures on his phone. There were a few of Michael and Kim, one of Michael using some heat-based song effect, and more than one of Aeris just sitting and waiting on the park bench.
His original intention had been to observe Michael and Kim once he had figured out that they were both Music Masters. Michael in particular seemed like an easy mark, much to Calvin's delight.
Aeris, on the other hand, would be a little something for later. He smiled to himself as he admired her image on his phone. There was something entrancing about the pure innocence on her face.
Having been sitting by himself in heavy bushes this whole time, Calvin had been so distracted with his tailing of Michael's small group and Aeris's beauty that he almost forgot a crucial fact.
He looked up, his eyebrows raised as he suddenly wondered where Kim was in all this. She was pretty hard to miss after all, and she was the last person he wanted to have any sort of confrontation with.
Unfortunately for Calvin, it would be too late for him to notice that she was already much too close for comfort.
Just behind him, a long finger-nailed hand reached out through the brush in deathly silence. Once it felt mass, it closed quick and hard. Calvin yelped loudly as she pulled him back by the roots of his shaggy blond hair.
He noisily tumbled out of his bushy hiding place, rolling to one side and wincing as he felt a scratch on the right side of his cheek. Shaking himself, Calvin looked up and was met with sight of a none too happy Kim Ramone.
Not one to usually get scared easily, Calvin pulled out his best innocent bystander response.
"Hey, what gives? That's the only place I can get Wi-Fi here!"
Kim didn't even respond. She just gave him a cold, deadpan stare.
Realizing the act wasn't working, Calvin quickly went from feigning annoyance to showing true fear. He tried to put up his hands as Kim raised her combat boot.
"Wait, wait, wai-"
All it took was one hard stomp, and Calvin was seeing stars.
So much for a good first impression.
-----
After what felt like forever, Michael craned his neck quick as he spotted Kim finally making her way up the rock formation.
And much to both his and Aeris's surprise, she was carrying someone he didn't recognize on her shoulder.
"Looks like Christmas came early everyone!" Kim exclaimed with fake jubilation, as she tossed the one hundred sixty pound teen off her and onto his back. Both Michael and Aeris approached cautiously, though once they got close, it was clear that he was very much out for the count.
Aeris in particular leaned down and inspected his face. She brushed some of his hair aside, noting scratches and the large red mark that could have only come from the bottom of Kim's boot.
Michael, of course, was immediately confused. "Uh, Kim...who's this?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea. He's got no school ID or anything on him. All I know is he's been following us since last week. He could just be some creep, or he could be a First Beat. Either way, I'm not taking any chances."
Whoever this stranger was, he was dressed quite nicely for a supposed teenager. His matching dress pants and suit jacket were both a dark, deep blue, contrasting with a black undershirt emblazoned with a bright yellow design. Michael's gaze in particular wandered towards his shoes, which clearly stood out with their neon green color scheme.
"Don't you think stepping on his face was a little excessive?" Aeris asked, but of course, Kim just laughed in response.
"Ha! I don't think so. But if he tries anything funny once he comes to, then I'll show him excessive."
As if right on cue, Calvin began to stir. Aeris blinked, and as his eyes creaked open, he was met with the pleasant sight of her staring down at him. Even in the grogginess that accompanied being woken up from a knockout, he still had enough time for a one-liner.
"The things I'd do to wake up to that face more often." he remarked with a light laugh. Blushing almost immediately, Aeris was quick to stand up and turn away. Kim remained completely unfazed however, proceeding to drop her boot hard on his right leg.
Calvin cried out, now remembering his situation. Instinctively, one of his free hands went for his music player, but Kim was quick to beat him to the punch.
"Don't even bother." she said flatly, patting her pocket where his music player was nestled while also displaying his neon red and green headphones in her hand.
"Make this easy for yourself. Tell Zero Beat to leave us the hell alone, and maybe I'll think about sending you back to them with most of your teeth intact."
A million thoughts ran through Calvin's mind in a situation like this. It was nothing new though. He had been in tight spots before, against people much more willing to use deadly force than this Kim character.
And once Zero Beat was brought up, he knew in an instant he could use that to his advantage. Calvin held back his wincing as he put on his smoothest tone of voice.
"It's never good to have Zero Beat after you, that's for sure. Luckily, I don't run with that crowd."
"Then what crowd do you run with?" Aeris asked quickly, but Calvin did little more than smirk. "Why were you spying on us?"
Michael looked back and forth and both Kim and Aeris. Tensions were running a bit high now, and even if this guy was with Zero Beat, perhaps even Kim was going a little overboard. Michael crouched down, forearms resting on his legs as he hoped to be as non-threatening as possible.
Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what Calvin was hoping for.
"Me? Spy? Why, I'm flattered."
"Hey." Michael interjected. "We're not going to hurt you."
Kim raised an eyebrow, but even still kept a modicum of pressure over Calvin's leg.
"Okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Michael corrected himself. "You know if you're not with Zero Beat, maybe you can help us out. What's their deal, anyway?"
Calvin just laughed. "What's their deal? Seriously? You live under a rock or what?"
Kim applied pressure, clearly annoyed by the run around. "Hey, he's not paid to be in the know. Just answer his questions before I lose my patience."
"Okay, jeez." Calvin replied. It was obvious charm wasn't going to work on her. "You've got some award-winning personality there."
Calvin sat up now, though Kim still didn't seem ready to let up. Fixing his collar, he began to address Michael now. "Zero Beat, let's just say, is kind of like the police. And you should know that nobody wants to piss off the police."
He took a particular glance at Michael's afro, smiling a little bit to himself. "Especially after Last Record, and what happened with Highlord Funk and DanceDown. A real tragedy, really."
Of course, those choice words were all it took to grab Michael Kay's attention. His mind instantly began to wander at the implication of those words.
DanceDown?
Highlord Funk?
Last Record?
It all sounded so fantastical, and of course, Michael's mind wanted more. Calvin had him right where he wanted him.
"Anyway, I'm not with Zero Beat." he insisted, shooting a sly glance at Aeris. "And as much as I'd like to stick around, I really have places to be. Let's make this all water under the bridge, shall we?"
Kim seemed to debate just clocking him again. She couldn't stand his smug grin or anything about the way he operated. But even she wasn't so dense to think he had anything to do with Zero Beat at this point.
She threw Michael a look of acknowledgement, before finally letting up on his leg and allowing him freedom. In the back of her mind, she began to wonder if Michael's presence was starting to turn her soft.
"You're lucky Michael's too dumb for his own good. I better not catch you sneaking around here again." she threatened nevertheless, and Calvin clasped his hands together in his best apologetic tone.
"Oh, of course not. I wouldn't dream of it."
He turned to Aeris now, taking her by the hand and just ever so slightly lowering his tone. "I never got your name by the way. The name's Calvin. It's quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Completely caught off guard, Aeris debated ripping her hand away. Unfortunately common courtesy got the better of her, and she answered as politely as usual. "Uh, I'm Aeris. Nice to meet you, I guess."
Breaking his moment completely, Michael was quick to tap on their spy's shoulder. "Hey, I know we might not see you again after this, so you want to trade numbers? I'm kind of curious about the Last Record stuff you were talking about. It sounds pretty cool."
Calvin, of course, was annoyed at the interruption, but he feigned interest quite well. He turned to the afro-headed teen in an instant, but quickly realized he still didn't have the phone which also doubled as his music player.
"Oh, would you mind?" motioning to Kim for his phone. She threw it back quite hard, though he still managed to catch it without too much damage to himself.
"And the headphones?"
She kept them looped in her fingers by her waist. "Yeah, sure. When you're leaving you can have them."
It took all of Calvin's will to hold back a frustrated sigh. Instead, he turned his attention back to Michael, making small talk as he noted his digits. "You're Michael, right? I definitely dig your style. Very retro."
Michael made an static grin in response. "Hey thanks! I wish more people appreciated it, you know?"
Kim simply put a frustrated hand on her forehead, standing by a mostly silent Aeris. "I swear to you, Afroboy's going to make me blow a gasket one day. It's a wonder you could stand being here alone with him for even five minute."
"You do know this is the first time you've really talked to me at all, right?" Aeris pointed out. "And he's a little all over the place, but he means well. It could be worse, you know."
Kim kept her hands in her pockets as she watched Michael continue to blab to Calvin, much to her displeasure. "Could it? Yeah, I find that hard to believe sometimes."
Meanwhile, Calvin seemed to have Michael wrapped around his little finger.
"You know, it's too bad we won't be seeing you much after this. Kim jumps the gun way too much on people." Michael commented, but Calvin's response was so oddly assuring.
"I wouldn't say that so soon, Mike. Who knows, maybe you'll even get to see some of my song effects one day."
He gave Aeris a playful wink. She just smiled awkwardly in response.
Unlike Michael, he was no moron. He knew she didn't have the hots for him. But it was a start, at least.
Perhaps there was a silver lining to being face-stomped by Kim after all.
Fast forward to the next track...
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