#DO NOT ASK ME THE WARS I WENT THROUGH...THE SACRIFICES I MADE...TO MAKE SURE THIS DAMN THING UPLOADED TO TUMBLR...

[exutrio]

orym and dorian in c3 x 120: "the red end"

[ckret2]

Ok but why DO the teens of Gravity Falls start worshipping Bill after everything he did to them? Isn't there a better counterculture figure they can use that didn't traumatize them for life?

You'd think. Pre-TBOB I sure wouldn't have made them worship him—but if canon says they worship him to be edgy, who am I to argue.

So since it IS canon, I justify it two ways:

One: who says they were traumatized? I'm not saying "Weirdmageddon wasn't traumatic"; I'm saying "maybe they didn't feel traumatized by it." Not everyone comes away from should-be-traumatic situations with trauma, ESPECIALLY if they have a large support group that understands what they went through... like, say, literally everyone else in town.

And a WHOLE LOT of Gravity Falls—maybe even most of the town—had VERY little exposure to Bill or Weirdmageddon. Based on Wendy's account, she and her friends didn't know anything was wrong until the eye-bats swooped in to petrify them. Anyone captured "probably" wasn't conscious (based on how Lazy Susan seems disoriented and unaware of her surroundings, I assume they were mostly unconscious, partially dreaming). All the teens (along with the other townspeople) were freed from the throne while Bill and his minions were outside, escaped (except for Wendy & Robbie) before Bill got back, and then everything went back to normal and nothing was broken and nobody was hurt.

For Wendy, it was the most stressful, dangerous, terrifying week of her life.

For all of Wendy's friends (and probably most other teens in town), it was just a pretty bizarre 15 minutes.

Since the eye-bats were picking off stray townspeople days into Weirdmageddon, I'm sure not all of the teenagers in town were captured so quickly and painlessly... but like, the teens that got the highest doses of trauma from the incident probably aren't the specific teens worshiping Bill to be edgy.

Two: it's a way of reclaiming power over the situation. Do you know one way to stop fearing the monster you imagine under your bed? By imagining really hard that the monster you can feel so, so close in the dark is actually friendly and there to protect you.

The triangle guy's dead and not coming back right? Then there's no consequences if we clown around in his name. You want to be a big fancy god? Okay, now you're the God of Making My Teacher Give Me An A+ On The Final. You're the God of Please Don't Let Me Get Fired From My Part Time Job For Showing Up Late. You're the God of Putting Me In The Same Classes As My Friends This School Year. I'll sacrifice a chicken nugget to you and you'll do me a favor.

If you're a chaos god then I'm calling on you when we spray graffiti, secretly throw a house party, sneak into the movie theater, sell weed in the restroom. If you're a chaos god then keep away the cops and parents when we're breaking the rules. (It's lucky coincidence that Bill would probably love to be the god of illegal parties and drug dealing.)

If you wanna be a god, then you're hired, buddy—and on this planet, that means if we bow to your image and chant your name and sacrificially burn a one dollar Bill over a candle for you, then you have to do what we ask, and you can't scare us anymore. And if worshiping you DOES scare the authority figures we're yearning to buck against, that's just a bonus.

Pantheons all over the world worship gods of volcanoes, sea storms, war, and death. When humans see a force too terrible to defeat or escape, we give it a face, a name, and a temple, and start feeding it with offerings and prayers in hopes we can domesticate it the same way we domesticated wolves with meat and back scratches.

[deathbxnny]

Anything for Natlan. Everything for Natlan. (Mavuika x GN!Reader)

A/N: As promised, here is the one-shot I spoke about! My health is unfortunately still very bad, but I'm desperate to write something and therefore hope you'll like this guys!<33

Content: Heavy angst, spoilers for the Natlan quest!, vague death of reader, hurt/no comfort, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

"So this is it? That's all you have to say?!" You stand on the steps to your once shared home, body trembling from the anger that coursed through you. The moon was high in the stary night sky, which reflected in your tearful eyes Mavuika had to turn away from. She was at a loss for words, unsure if there was even anything more to say. Because there truthfully wasn't. She had made up her mind whether you liked it or not.

"All these years we've spent together, all the promises we've made, this ring-" You held your hand out towards her, and you knew she could imagine it glinting in the moonlight beautifully as it always did. "-did it mean nothing to you? Nothing at all?" She didn't necessarily ever expect you to understand. If anything, she was glad that you were so angry, so enraged. It made things easier.

It made the reality of your situation easier.

She was leaving, planning to reincarnate in about 500 years to save your home from its demise. It was a hard feat, and it didn't mean that it could work out in the end. The world could still end, and the Abyss could still take over Natlan. Everything could have just been for nothing. But she needed to proceed with the plan anyway. It was a risk she was more than ready to take.

But you both knew that by the time she returned, you would be dead. Just like the rest of her family and friends here.

Mortality was beyond her now. She had found a way to cheat death and bring back hope to everyone. Except for you. It would be selfish of her to ask for you to understand, right? You wouldn't, and you couldn't, bare to let her go. You didn't care about tomorrow or the day after it if she wasn't there with you. And what would you do in her absence?

She imagined you slowly withering away as the years went by, sitting on the steps leading to your house whilst you wait for her return. Once you die, you'll search for her in the afterlife, only to realise that she had never even entered it. Would you feel betrayed then, too? You didn't know the extent of her plans. You were no warrior. You were a fleeting simplicity she deeply yearned for but knew she could never have as Natlan's Archon. You were her ultimate sacrifice. The one thing that tethered her to what she once was, to who she once was. To the mortal you married.

When did things go wrong? Why did she have to be the one to take on the burden of an unstoppable war? Why did she have to give up everything so that her friends could continue living their life's with their families? Why couldn't she do the same?

Hanging her head in shame, she heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, her breath short and unsteady as the doubts crept in. "I'm sorry. I don't expect you to understand." She finally said, and silence followed. It wasn't good enough. Nothing she told you now would be good enough. "You... mean the world to me." She still didn't turn around. Her heart couldn't let her do so. She'd never leave if she did. "And for that reason, I need to make this sacrifice. Natlan will never be free otherwise... and I'm sure we will meet again one day. Under the stary night, just like the first day we met."

"Many hardships await us from here. But I know you'll make it. You're strong, far stronger than I." She straightened up again, a deep, shaky breath leaving her lips. It was time. "Mavuika! Don't you dare leave me, I can't - " The woman began walking away calmly, her face devoid of any emotion but determination as she relished in the last remnants of your voice. "-I can't live in this world without you, I beg of you to stay damnit! Please don't leave me! Mavuika!" And yet, for some reason, you didn't chase her down. You didn't stop her from leaving. Deep down, you ultimately understood what she was doing. You were always so intelligent, so smart. You were the only one to truly get her. But even that wasn't enough. Your heart belonged to her, and she was willing to toss it in the flames, too.

Mavuika never turned around to face you that night, and you never stopped her either. You were the last person she said her goodbye's too before proceeding with her plans. Her heart wavered for a split moment, but she knew that this was fate calling out to her. This is life. Complex and ruthless as ever. Her emotions and past didn't matter, only what she was willing to sacrifice did.

Centuries later, she found herself beginning to hate hearing that word.

"Oh! We get it... so who is that?" Paimon's voice rang out, cutting through her mind as they stared at a picture of you and her family together, smiles bright and happy, unaware of the doom that would follow you soon. She chuckled at the question, eyes trailing over your face for what felt like the millionth time, and yet she could never get bored of it. If only she could remember what you sounded like...

"That... was my lover. I don't really know what happened to them after I left... but I believe they became a writer." Or at least, that's what she could gather from the small records that were left of you from 500 years ago. You had left your tribe and traveled all over Natlan. Your records and stories were still used by historians and tribesmen alike for retellings. But the only book she was able to get her hands on that proved all of this was the final book you wrote after having returned to your old home.

Paimon and the traveler glanced at each other with a solemn look, not knowing what else to say. The Archon's way to glory was tragic and painful. It was beyond them how someone could give up everything so willingly. And yet they had no time to ponder, as the next part of their to save Kichina plans came up.

Mavuika stayed behind, her hand carefully brushing against the worn-out book, which rested next to picture frame, not needing to open it to read it. She had memorized every sentence, every word, every letter. Sighing to herself, she knew that she'd have to sacrifice the last of you with it. This was all she had left.

But even you, once you reached your late 70s and settled down once more after years of travel, understood the meaning of her sacrifice at last. Walking away from the book and the picture frame, she recited the last paragraph in you ever wrote, deciding to leave her past at that. Guided through your own final words.

"And if Natlan one day can bathe in the scorching sun undisturbed and free from the hate of the Abyss, then I'd say my pain was worth something after all at last. I wasted decades looking for an answer to why you did it, Mavuika, and even now, my heart struggles to understand its loss. But one thing is clear now. One thing that we both knew from the start:

Anything for Natlan.

Everything for Natlan.

And may that never change until the last flickers of the sacred flames burn your heart and warm your face, just like I once did."

[average-mako-enjoyer]

I keep thinking about Kaidan's character arc and how important his struggle with survivor's guilt is to it.

The whole trilogy literally begins with him losing his subordinate (Jenkins) for the first time, and it obviously hits him hard.

Kaidan is the head of the Marine detail on the Normandy, which means that every Marine on board, their safety and comfort is his responsibility. Sure, the Normandy is the new ship, but you can't just put a bunch of people on board and sail them off on their first mission. It takes a lot of preparation and team building to make that work, so realistically, before Jenkins' death, Kaidan spent weeks and weeks with these guys, trying to make a connection and get them to trust him (with their lives).

He spent every day of the week with these guys, and he was the one who comforted them after Jenkins' death, both as their officer and as someone who was present when Jenkins was killed and as someone who literally pronounced him dead. The whole brunt of this fell on Kaidan's shoulders because Shepard was unconscious after the contact with the beacon, and that's another reason for Kaidan to feel terrible about the whole event: He not only lost his subordinate during this mission, he almost lost his commanding officer, and now he has to explain it all to Anderson and the crew. It's brutal.

Also, the way he talks about the whole event afterwards is very telling. He says: "I served for years, but never lost a soldier under my command. Not to hostile action, anyway." There's a trauma here. What kind of action did you lose soldiers to, Kaidan?

And after all that, he loses Ashley, who is also a soldier under his command, and also Jenkins' replacement on board.

Kaidan asks, "How could we just leave her down there?" and "Why me? Why not her?" And when Shepard says it was their call, Kaidan says, "If I had done my job, you wouldn’t have had to make that call."

He blames himself for this situation, he feels survivor's guilt, and you can only imagine how much worse it gets when Shepard tells him to evacuate with the crew after the Normandy is attacked by the Collectors. Kaidan follows that order and survives. Shepard does not.

In ME2, that same guilt is absolutely part of why Shepard's betrayal hurts him so much. Not only because Kaidan (or Ashley), unlike every other ME1 squadmate, actively went looking for Shepard and made a lot of personal sacrifices to make that meeting possible (I need to write a separate post about that, don't I?), not only because Kaidan is apparently not worthy enough to be contacted by Shepard, but also because Kaidan did not protect Shepard, and now Shepard is with the enemy.

And then ME3 happens, and Kaidan's students go MIA, and they die, and he has to deal with that same guilt again. I feel very strongly that all these years after Shepard's death, he has tried to do his job well enough so that nobody has to make tough calls, but this war is just one big tough call, and he tries to deal with that fact, and he struggles terribly (especially in the deleted scene).

Kaidan's whole journey through the Reaper War is about trying to deal with the absolute loss of control and the guilt. He didn't save Jenkins, he didn't save Ash, he didn't save Shepard's life, and he didn't save Shepard from Cerberus, and he didn't help Shepard with the Collectors.

And now he can't help his students, and he can't even help his mother, but maybe he can finally help Shepard and be there for Shepard in their last moments, and he comes to terms with that ("We both know this is goodbye."; oh, the way his voice breaks in that moment...). But then Shepard leaves him again, and there's nothing Kaidan can do about it. Absolutely nothing.

Ouch.

[corishadowfang]

14 and 24 for the ask game?

(For this)

14. Is there a character or ship you were sure you would never write/draw but now you've changed your mind?

I never expected to do much with Yen Sid, haha, and yet he ended up being Baldr's mentor in "Fill the Cracks with Gold." He was never a character I was particularly interested in, but sending Baldr to the Mysterious Tower (and, therefore, away from Scala) made sense, and the story...I won't say it made me like him that much more, but it did at least get me thinking more about what his history was in KH, haha.

24. What's your favorite thing about [character]?

Since no character was specified for this one, I'm just going to run through the Union Leaders, haha. I don't know if these are like--favorite favorite things, but they're things I like about all of them!

Ephemer: As a writer, I love writing about him getting into (and causing) shenanigans due to his curiosity, haha, but as a reader/player, I just love like--there's something very compelling about the idea of him learning how to live again after his home fell apart and being able to make a place for his friends to come back to, even if they never see each other again. Like--I know we don't actually get to see his recovery in canon, but it's still just. A very cool thing.

Skuld: Despite Skuld being one of my favorite characters, I kind of just sat here for a while and went, "...Uh. Everything?" Like--I love that she's so driven, I love both her kindness and commitment to justice, I love the flashes of anger we get to see, and as a writer, I love getting to expand on things that the game didn't have space to show us (ex. how did going back to the Keyblade War affect her? does she have any qualms about deceiving the Dandelions? what kind of shenanigans can she get into with Ephemer and the Player?). Also, the idea of her being Subject X is so fascinating, and if it is canon, I'm really excited to see how that plays out.

Brain: I feel like every time I write Brain, I'm just going, "Hey, did you know he really loves his friends? Don't let the 'cool guy' facade fool you, he really loves his friends, guys." And I just--love that despite how suspicious he seems on the outside, he still cares so much about the Dandelions and other Union Leaders.

Lauriam: I love his kindness...and I also find it really interesting that he ends up becoming Marluxia, despite this. Like--there is something very fascinating about a character who starts out very caring (even if he has flashes of anger), and then ends up descending into villainy. Like--he gives up everything about him that his younger siblings loved because he's so desperate to regain his memories of them, and the tragedy of that is just--man.

Ven: His story in KHUX makes me go feral. Like. He was a lonely kid who just wanted friends, and he got them, but at a terrible price, and then he sacrifices himself for those friends anyways, and it's just--man. MAN. The fact that he starts UX so unsure of himself, and then he's able to be brave at the end in order to save his friends, even if everything went wrong--I just. It makes me feel a lot of emotions.

[edutainer2022]

I know headcanons are a tricky territory. But sometimes when I see the "Scott can't be so broken and overworked or GDF wouldn't deal with him, he's charming and easygoing" I wonder if anyone has ever met the A-type personality in a high octane stressful (leadership) position? Yep, we're charming, capable and easygoing when interfacing with higher-up authority or leading by example. We're usually the heart of any group and a naturally appointed leader. We're the ones everyone considers "strong" and "dealing with it so admirably". That makes us no less stressed, overwhelmed, overworked or anxious (because of SO MUCH spotlight on us being capable and functional). Add grief and guilt, and fear into the mix. And you get Scott. Ask me how I know? Because loosing Dad made me one of the most efficient scholars in the field and propelled administrative career so early I'm still 20 years younger than anyone around. Doesn't mean it didn't make me want to die a little every day since. Because living through a f*cking WAR, in an actual warzone with bombs, has earned me sooooo many accolades on efficient leadership and admirable fortitude. Because I have people depending on me being that. Doesn't mean I'm not freaking out or not breaking down when nobody's watching. You've all met my "Tumblr" persona. Trust me, I'm a lot less engaging on my own. Doesn't mean I haven't resigned to my life being a function of meritorious performance. I can't afford not to. That's IMMEDIATELY what I zoned in on with Scott's character. The first thing we see him do is casually willing to sacrifice himself for a city. That's also the second, third and forth thing we see him do. Because that's how Dad died, we learn. The conversation in the tent doesn't RESOLVE much, if one actually follows Scott's reactions all the way through, just lampshades some things and adds perspective. And it takes some really willful gloss-over reading comprehension to say Scott is quite okay AFTER Dad's signal is found. All the way through to Jeff actually catching him falling.

I completely get not following popular headcanons and fanon. Trust me, there's A LOT of what's merrily considered "established fanon" in TAG that I don't agree with and that doesn't make sense to me in terms of what the text indicates about characters. But the Scott thing is something that gets me to flare up, precisely because the show went to great lengths to demonstrate through text and paratext his (many!) issues behind the "decisive team leader" persona. To the point the early TAG release and supplementary materials made sure to specify Scott has a propensity to "agonize over past mistakes".

Sorry for a harsher tone. I just needed to get it out.

[bbcmerlin-reversebang]

BBC Merlin Reverse Bang Masterlist

Thank you to all the fantastic artists and writers who participated in this round of the fest! Without further ado, here is the masterlist for the 2023-2024 BBC Merlin Reverse Bang!

So Familiar A Gleam

Artist: MerlinLikeThe Bird

Writer: Excited_Insomniac

Summary: They say the druid in the forest who guards the sword in the stone has never woken. Unchanging, no matter the season, no matter how many years go by; lost in a dream that will only be broken by the Once and Future King.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54501022

***

Agate

Artist: Papysanzo89

Writer: ironfamjam

Summary: “I’ll give you whatever you want,” the king says, shoulders drawn back, “just help me save my people.”

The sun strikes his face and for a moment, Arthur looks made of gold. Pretty, Emrys can���t help but think. But still just a man. 

“Whatever I want?” Emrys’ smirk widens, “I want your pride. Now bow down to me and beg.”

-

When long-time immortal and full-time hater of humanity, the great Emrys himself, finds the newly crowned King Arthur at his doorstep asking for his help, he gets way more than he bargained for on their journey to revive Camelot’s old wards and save the kingdom from war. Unfortunately for him, he's going to make friends, fall in love, and become a hero whether he wants to or not.

Or, Merlin's been waiting centuries for something to believe in.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54417334

***

Dragon of the Dawn

Artist: LikeAPaperPlane

Writer: SlantedKnitting

Summary: To avoid war with the Druids, Arthur lifts the ban on magic in Camelot. As a sign of peace, the Druids gift him a dragon egg. Now Arthur must decide if it would be wise to bring a dragon into the world, or if his interest in the egg is only due to the handsome Dragonlord who wields the power to hatch it.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54702940

***

World Within a World

Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird

Writer: Sage_Owl

Summary: "Stories never really end. They can go on and on and on. It's just that sometimes, at a certain point, one stops telling them." ― Mary Norton, The Borrowers

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54609637

***

Touched by Magic / in time of daffodils

Artist: willoswmarika

Writer: archaeologist_d

Summary: “When you’re touched by magic, nothing’s ever quite the same again.” Charles de Lint.

Five people discover Merlin’s magic. Their reactions might vary, but sometimes, acknowledging it is the hardest thing of all.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54803929

Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54802045

***

All That Lies Between Us

Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird

Writer: thetreeofwillow

Summary: With a gasp, Arthur wakes.

He wakes to the warmth of the blankets around him, the sight of the stars above and Merlin’s hand grasping his. He wakes surrounded; by softness, by love, by light. Gasping in breaths, he wakes holding tightly onto Merlin’s hand, tethering himself to the word through that strong, sure grip.

He wakes and he’s not alone and everything's better.

He settles back down, his breath not quite steady yet, but getting there. He holds on tight to Merlin’s hand, looks up at the stars and lets himself drift back off to sleep, safe in the knowledge that he’s free.

- 

Merlin and Arthur are held captive together for a month in the dark.

Back in Camelot now, the two face all they went through with the help of one another, their friends, and the night sky.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54826897

***

Till Death Do Us Part

Artist: Sunfall_of_Ennien

Writer: Pearl09

Summary: The battle of Camlann is now, and Arthur just manages to survive the battle thanks to the sacrifice of a sorcerer who had strangely taken Camelot's side. When he later learns out that sorcerer was a disguised Merlin, however, he's left to try and patch his broken world back together. Meanwhile, Merlin thought he was dead but instead wakes up in Cenred's prison, the man in question having rescued Merlin to try and force him to join his army.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54895198

***

Malediction Amplexus

Artist: griffonskies

Writer: Camelittle

Summary: Arthur is only trying to protect his idiot flat mate from a deranged person who claims to be a witch. But then she goes and blasts him with a "hug or die" curse. Not only does this force Arthur to swallow his pride and seek hugs from those who care from him, but also it turns his rationalist world view on its head. Despite all his best efforts to deny the fact, he's forced to confront the idea that maybe, just maybe, Merlin wasn't kidding about having magic after all.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54400465

***

Overhead Of The Aqua Blue

Artist: Dollopbrain

Writer: lavenderspice

Summary: Merlin is not in love with Arthur. Arthur is not in love with Merlin. It's as simple as that.

But then, an impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment changes everything between them. The casual, friendly touches turn into fleeting kisses and meetings in hidden alcoves.

It's not anything serious though. Merlin and Arthur are still definitely not in love.

Or are they?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54988165

***

Light and Shadow

Artist: griffonskies

Writer: sacredraisincakes

Summary: "If love is light, then fear is its shadow." - LJ Vanier

Basking in the dawn of the golden age of Camelot, Arthur doesn't question anything when he is given the small token from Gwen and Lancelot's daughter. Why would he? He doesn't see anything wrong with the way his life is heading... Merlin, of course, questions everything, but the arrival of his mother with life changing news puts his questions aside for now.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55041709

Art: https://www.tumblr.com/griffcreations/747145662845616128/merlin-bbc-reverse-bang-202324-light-and-shadow

***

Guardian Angel

Artist: Mirayla

Writer: ClotpolePoet

Summary: Set in a world where magical abilities manifest wings proportions to their power, Merlin, Arthur and the knights are sent on a months-long mission by the king.

Merlin struggles to find time to preen and care for his large wings during the journey, but when Arthur finds himself in danger, Merlin is forced to reveal them in order to save the prince and in doing so gets himself kidnapped and tortured.

Arthur and the knights are faced with saving Merlin from a deadly man whilst dealing with Merlin’s magic reveal revelation.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55075855

***

The Totality of Partial Impressions

Artist: OnePepperCorn

Writer: s0mmerspr0ssen

Summary: Arthur starts his first year at Camelot University hoping to elude his father’s influence. But Uther’s control persists and Arthur soon faces the same pressures he had hoped to escape. To make matters worse, his roommate proves to be a complete pain in the arse, though Merlin thinks the same about Arthur. Unfortunately, Arthur is not only infuriating but infuriatingly attractive, and Merlin cannot help but wonder if Arthur’s guarded looks convey a deeper meaning – one he’s too afraid to admit to.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54425791

***

The Other Side Of The Door

Artist: monoisbored

Writer: SaltedKiss

Summary: Arthur Pendragon chose to take on a fake name and major in History of Magic at Camelot University after finding out about the atrocities his father did to the magical community. He looked forward to learning more about magic users, but never expected to be attacked by an actual dragon the first time he met a sorcerer in person.

Starring: Cannonball Aithusa, Arthur "American Football Cosplayer " Pendragon & Merlin "Any excuse to take Arthur's shirt off" Emrys.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55103026

***

a single thread of fate (tied me to you)

Artist: azimuthal

Writer: remaymber

Summary: Merlin paused, took a deep breath, and a delicate, red band appeared in front of him, softly flowing in the breeze. It was wrapped around his wrist and then disappeared into the distance.

Merlin took it between his fingers, held it as he focused on the gentle pull he felt. With his eyes, he followed the faint thread into the distance and couldn’t help but wonder who might be awaiting him on the other side.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55104175

Art: https://www.tumblr.com/azi-muthal/747649862663864320/my-contribution-to-the-bbcmerlin-reversebang-this

***

Devouring Glory

Artist: Mirayla

Writer: gil-galadhwen

Summary: When a person with magic dies, where does their magic go?

Merlin has been feeling peculiar lately. The sun seems too bright and his skin feels unusually sensitive beneath his clothing. His magic seems to be growing too, in a way he’s unsure he can control. Like an unruly garden. Like he’s overflowing with it.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/54716203

***

Live for the hope of it all

Artist: Papysanzo89

Writer: MyKingdomComeUndone

Summary: At sixteen, during a hunt gone wrong, Arthur meets a strange boy in the woods—a boy who uses magic to save him, and goes by the name of Merlin. This is the story of an unlikely friendship, a friendship that ends up changing not only Arthur's life, but the future of all of Camelot.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/53840449

***

Up Pendragon Creek Without an Oar

Artist: eachpeachpearplum

Writer: Laurieonalark

Summary: When Agravaine betrays the Pendragons, they lose everything- their money, their property, their status, it's all gone. With nothing to their name, they are forced to relocate to the sleepy town of Ealdor, living in the rundown Camelot Bed and Breakfast. It's nothing like any of them were prepared for, but it may just be exactly what Arthur and Morgana need.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55276900

***

Towards the Stars

Artist: treasureguardingdragon

​​Writer: just_snakess

Summary: The year is 2372. When King Arthur finally returns, Merlin is on the other side of the solar system, and is helpless to prevent him being swept up by the government. Thus begins a journey across the solar system, crossing paths with crimelords, rebel leaders, and very, very old friends. Will it be enough to free Arthur? Or will the Once and Future King fall victim to a mysterious plot that threatens the very border between life and death?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55300255

***

Learning to defy expectations

Artist: treasureguardingdragon

Writer: Ace_Teagirl

Summary: When Arthur gets sent away by Uther to secure a treaty between Camelot and Tir-Mor, what should have been a normal diplomatic trip turns into more than Arthur could have expected. Along the way, he learns valuable lessons about trust, friendship and the weight of duty.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55365187

***

Hide Yourself

Artist: ClotpolePoet

Writer: bang-the-smoke

Summary: When Merlin finds out about an assassination plot against Arthur that is set to happen sometime during the annual three-day masquerade ball that Camelot hosts, he is forced to enter the ball, disguised. How will he be able to save Arthur's life when the prince attempts to court him during the ball?

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55301731

***

All My Scars Are For Him

Artist: Dollopbrain

Writer: ApproachRoach

Summary: “I was here a week ago,” Arthur blurted out. “Before, it was a desert—it almost killed me. Now it’s a rainforest.” Arthur stated. “I’ve only ever heard about rainforests in tales about magic, and in those stories, the magic was dormant. Its only purpose was to keep the forest alive. Here, I can even feel the magic in the air. And if I’m honest, it feels a little like coming home. It feels safe.” He stated it so simply Merlin almost didn’t realise the magnitude of what he was admitting.

His admission, if he was anyone else, would have him hanged.

-

Arthur Pendreagon is a lot of things; he is his fathers son. Camelot’s Prince. The Captain of the Knights. Himself, is rarely one of them.

What if, for once, he was not the things he was supposed to be and was simply, himself? He confesses something he had never really thought much of and somehow everything else does not matter anymore. He is himself and that is all that is important, he is finally, who he is meant to be; the Golden Prince

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55073416

***

Four reasons to kill

Artist: wortvermis

Writer: Brechtjeeatscheese

Summary: George Brass has been killed.

Merlin is an undercover agent, it seems an afwull lot like the attack was meant for Uther Pendragon, CEO of Pendragon Inc. After some inspecting, Merlin can only come to one conclussion, his son, Athur Pendragon, has motive and oppurtunity, unfortunatly he has an alibi.

Merlin needs to go undercover in order to prove Arthur did it. What he didn't account for was that he would fall head over heels in love with Arthur. There is only one problem that rests, if Arthur didn't do it, then who did?

A tale about falling in love, hiding who you are, sacrificing everything for your job, and trying to catch a murderer while doing it all. No wonder Merlin is stressed and depressed.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55362367

***

Le Démoniste et Le Dragon

Artist: Pearl09

Writer: Salamandair

Summary: Merlin moves to Camelot after the death of his mother to help his Uncle Gaius in his Apothecary and to get a fresh start away from his small village where no one liked his magic.

In Camelot, however, most people hate magic too. But why? What happened here that made everyone hate magic so quickly? What is Gaius keeping from him?

When Merlin is forced to seek refuge in an abandoned mansion a month after his arrival due to being chased by magic hating men, he is thrust into a world that will turn his request for a ‘new start’ on its head.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55453966

***

Echoes of Magic and Nature

Writer: HadrianPeverellBlack

Summary: After the lands of Camelot lose their life, it seems that hope for the kingdom is lost for good.

That is until Prince Arthur decides that he would save his people.

But he will not make this journey alone. He will have allies, even in the most unthinkable places.

After all, to heal the wounds made by an impure heart, it is needed the purest of them all.

Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55790572

***

The Blue Butterflies Follow You (so do the moths)

Artist: zazrichor

Writer: Crimson_Fanfic_Writer_7

Summary: Arthur is fed up. He trusts Merlin with his life but he doesn’t think the same goes for Merlin. Merlin is hiding something, has been hiding something the entire time he has known him. It’s eating at him, it’s tainting their relationship in a subtle way he can’t even name.

Fortunately for him, there is a young druid who – even if not for the same reason – is fed up with Merlin’s lies as well. The young druid has grown up on stories of how the great Emrys will help the Once and Future King to unite the- blablabla yeah well WHEN is that going to happen though?! It’s been ten years, the oh so great master of magic could finally get a move on! Maybe he needs some incentive. Maybe he’s grown too accustomed to lying. Well, no more.

Fic & Art: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bbcmerlinreversebang/works/55807864

***

You are Someone Else (I am still right here)

Artist: Stelle_Loves_Reading

Summary: “After Lancelot is gravely injured by a group of druid hunters, he’s found by the most unlikely of rescuers: the fearsome Monster of the Darkling Woods and her companion, Merlin, who really wishes she’d stop bringing him broken creatures to fix.”

Art: https://artstelle.tumblr.com/post/750041304120033280/you-are-someone-else-i-am-still-right-here-art

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 51

Cw: mentions of blood sacrifices, bullying, and murder

Gif by @beyondtheciouds

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @ewanmitchellcrumbs @darylandbethfanforever9 @watercolorskyy @alexandria-millie @sweethoneyblossom1

Aegon remembers all the times he teased Aemond over his egg not hatching.

Its had been a smoky gray with red flecks given to him by Laenor and clutchmate to Jace's Vermax and Aemma’s annoying little dwarf dragon, Elēnar.

It had a name, some name that was meant to inspire fear, but made Aegon want to bully him some more.

Once mama caught him offering his blood to it after Aegon told him to, father had shouted at Aegon, taken Aemond aside and given him Barth's book on dragons while mother shouted at father for shouting at him only to slap him when she turned to yell at him, and he pointed it out.

Now as the king tries to make a second Sunfyre for himself, he finds himself looking for the dragonglass dagger Aemma keeps under her pillow for her protection.

They haven’t slept in the same bed since he was poisoned, mainly because he finds it gross as she told him she is to bleed for the forty days after the birth. Aemma had about a week or so to go and appreciated having the bed to herself.

She keeps busy, restless in her cage like the dragon she is and much like Silverwing, she does a good job of pretending she is fine as she is.

This morning he finds her reading her correspondence and having a late breakfast. She wears lilac today, brings out the purple of her eyes and matched the tie at the end of her long braid.

“What are you up to this morning, dear wife?” he asks completely forgetting what he came here for.

Aemma was always lovely, sure she was not the most beautiful, but she was kind and good company and had the old blood of Valyria running through her veins just like him. It would be nice to see her fly again, to see her throw her head back and laugh as Silver’s wingtips skim the ocean.

Once Baratheon wins this war for them, he will give her the freedom to fly again.

Of course, not often because it would look wrong when the king had no dragon of his own.

“Just some letters, Aunt Elenda wants me to take my cousins into our household, apologizes for the whole trying to drug me and almost killing your brother the night before his wedding, oh, and wants to confirm if Uncle Borros is still the man you want as Aenys’ godsfather.” She said showing him the letter as if he would doubt her word.

Aegon trusts her, a stupid thing to do, but he knows Aemma would never hurt him nor try to kill him. He quite likes her, finds himself missing waking up to her in the mornings.

“Tyland suggested him, I guess he had sent the letters already. I know you wanted Aemond to be Aenys’ godsfather, but we can keep Baratheon loyal to us without promising him a royal groom.” Aegon admits knowing why she wants Aemond to be made the babe’s godsfather. If either were to die, Aemond would be the man to raise Aenys as one would a son, if he was close to the boy no one would be suspicious of it and his overly familiar way with his wife not be too obvious.

The reason Aegon readily agreed to make Borros his godsfather.

Besides, Aemond fled Crossed Elms like a coward claimed to have dragon dreams knowing those tree worshiping cunts would believe him. Had he fought they would have won the battle, his brother just won’t admit it. Claims that the fucking riverlords had archers and the commanders too experienced for them to do more than to wave a peace banner and hope for the best.

If he had been there and had Sunfyre, the Riverlands would have burned, and he’d be a fucking warrior king like the conqueror.

Instead, he is here, stuck in this castle because he has been unmanned by his wife’s own fucking grandmother and humiliated by his own little brothers. Even Daeron went down as Daeron the Daring as he died like a man should.

When Borros comes, Aegon intends to lead the battle. He did it once and his sword arm is strong enough to fight, how hard could it be? And what better way to announce it than by entering the tourney.

“I suppose you are right, husband, especially because it will remind people that both your mother and my great-grandfather were brown of hair and eye. A shame Borros refused Cousin Joffrey, we could have had the Vale and Aunt Jeyne would be here to show she also has brown hair.” Aemma pretends it doesn’t bother her. Does a great deal of that since they married, Aegon wondered if one day she will like him and trust him like he trusts her.

He envies Aemond for getting to see the true Aemma, not the poised lady hiding her dragon’s blood underneath silks and brocade.

Aegon would’ve preferred Daeron had been the one to return and not Aemond. Daeron didn’t steal his wife’s heart from under his nose.

“If anyone dares to insinuate you cuckolded me, I will have their heads, dear Aemma. I plan on making sure they get the message at Aenys’ anointing next week.”

“Harwin used to have the worst nightmares as a boy, always dreaming he and father were burning to death and Larys’ laughing as he stood outside the door.” Alys speaks softly as she nursed Aenys.

The babe had been small and frail when he was born and yet the moment Alys became his nurse that night, he awoke as healthy as if he had not been born early. Her witch’s blood refused to let her create new life but made her able to nourish life that already existed.

“I had nothing to do with their deaths.” The queen mother says even though she remembers asking Larys to do what he must to bring her father back to court. Larys had been using her, like all men have done, and yet this time she had the power to say no.

But she hadn’t said no.

Instead, she prayed for forgiveness and put it out of her mind when word of their deaths came just as the raven from Daemon did.

“Just because you say it outloud does not make it true, your grace.” The witch chides her like a mother does to lying child. “I know you agreed to it for your cause.”

“Then why join me? Why kill Harwin’s lover and his sons?” the queen asked hoping that was the answer as to why everything had gone wrong.

“To get to Larys, to have the Blacks kill all those who stand between me and Harrenhal. I work the corridors of self-interest just as anyone here. Now with the war lost and my dear little brother getting his comeuppance, you are of no use to me ,your grace.” The witch said as if it were just something trivial that had failed and not a system of governance.

As if it was always meant to fall.

“You said it was Aegon’s destiny to be king!” the queen cannot comprehend why Alicent would make her do such things if it had not been meant to happen.

“And it was, I never said for how long. Two years is more than Aegon the Uncrowned got.” Alys put the babe in his basket without burping him first and went to stand by the window.

Why did no one else seem to care about this more? Why did no one see that for her family to be safe, Aegon needs to be king and her as his right hand?

Aemma had poisoned her sons against her an now her most trusted ally is led astray by her.

“Oh, no, the little queen did not seduce me from your side, your grace. Our paths are no longer aligned. You stand at the end of your road while I still have so far to go.” the witch answered as if she had spoken aloud.

“You tricked me! You had me sell my soul to the Stranger and damn myself to the Seventh Hell!” Alicent begins to see her with horror.

And yet the witch just stands there by the open window as if nothing was happening.

It would be so easy to kill her. She could lie and say she was going to hurt the little bastard, that she cast a spell on him and she as his grandmother only meant to save him.

Alys would die instantly on the spikes in the dry moat, no one would know.

What is one more kill?

“You said you would do anything to make Aegon king, you agreed to the price, your grace.” Alys coos at her making the queen mother snap and barrel towards her like an angry bull.

Just over the window.

That is all she needs.

And yet when they stand over the edge, Alys overpowers her and instead, Alicent is forced to look down at her grave.

“Now be a good girl for mummy and pay it.” The witch whispers in her ear like a lover and tosses her over the edge as if she weighed as much as little Aenys.

[padfootastic]

Sorry I’ve just sent u a super long anon and I am most likely about to send another but this discussion has really intrigued me bc you’re right we don’t talk about Remus in DH/generally in relation to Harry enough. I wanna touch on a point you made comparing him to Sirius (eg that Sirius takes a more active role in Harry’s life after coming back that Remus) bc I think it’s true and very interesting.

I think Remus is unique among the marauders in that he properly lived the period between the first and second wizarding wars. Not that Sirius didn’t suffer ofc but Sirius was in Azkaban - he did not live through wizarding society at all.

Remus sacrifices a lot in the first war (I mean he infiltrated the werewolf pack amongst death eaters that’s kind of insane??) comes back after they’ve won to find his only friends (who he considered to be family) dead or branded traitors. He literally has no one. Not to mention his rights aren’t affected at all - it’s not like their victory means anything for werewolves, and it doesn’t seem like dumbledore bothers with him until POA, decades later. I can imagine he lived a very miserable, very lonely life. On top of that, he’s been told his entire life that society is JUSTIFIED in having this perspective of him: unlike Sirius, who is in jail for something he didn’t do, Remus is outcast for something that he actually is.

Sirius, miserable or traumatised as he may be, is able to hold on to the idea that he can prove his innocence. He has some (small) semblance of hope. Remus on the other hand knows that despite doing everything to be seen as good, his irreversible condition makes him a monster. It’s by no means worse than what Sirius went through (which honestly takes the cake over anything in the books) but it’s different, and I think those differences really impact how they show up in POA and for Harry throughout.

I spoke a lot about Remus’s relationship with him in my last ask so I’ll sum it up in that he carries deep shame and self hatred that contribute to his distance but is also painfully aware of how his presence may impact Harry’s life.

Sirius on the other hand comes back and is actively trying to prove himself - with Harry more than anyone. He does everything he can to be there largely bc he cares but imo also bc he’s trying to outrun the guilt he feels over not being there before (not just for Harry but for James too). Sirius also has a similar upbringing to Harry’s and I think that impacts his decision making a lot, and that’s not a perspective Remus has at all.

Honestly what I find so interesting about the marauders and these two in particular is how they represent fundamentally different injustices in wizarding England. Sirius is falsely convicted but never seen as subhuman (although wizard treatment of criminals is nothing to be desired oof) while Remus is viewed as a monster. Sirius’s journey re Harry is about being free to care for Harry as he was never able to while Remus’s is a more independent journey of breaking down his own walls and allowing others to care for him in a way I doubt he has since Hogwarts.

ooh yeah that’s a good way to put it. remus, arguably, was the only one to live in that period. (even peter was a rat for all of it, which is barely any better) and so, it had to have impacted him negatively, and worse in some ways. because so often, being the one left behind is the worst position to be in.

the infiltration….i don’t think he did it until the second war 🤔 well, tbf, that’s what i thought but we were having this discourse a while ago and some anons chimed in saying that we only know he went in w the packs the second time around, not the first, so…i’m not sure what was going on then. regardless, tho, whatever he was doing, ur right—it is absolutely not easy to wake up one day and find out ur the last of your friends practically overnight. so yeah, he’s…not having a good time.

i don’t think remus’ arc was ever meant to intersect with harry to such a degree as sirius, so in a way it’s a bit unfair to put that on him (when he’s having his own moment) but at the same time, we all know how obsessed i am with harry and sirius so is it any surprise lol

[chiarrara]

It's October 7th again, and Israel and the United States of America have been committing full blown genocide against Gaza, Palestinians, and the Arab world at large for entire year now within our lifetimes.

Growing up in America, you invariably learn about the Holocaust, and in a somewhat shortsighted and somewhat oversimplified manner, your teachers ask what you would have done during these times. In an extremely shortsighted and extremely oversimplified manner we all insist we would have done something to stop it.

Now that history is repeating itself, now that we are in the belly of the beast (not at the mercy of its claws and teeth, but at it's core, providing it with fuel to continue its onslaught), the target of propaganda we've been conditioned for our entire lives, and at risk of violent suppression should we step out of line, I have felt powerless in a way I never expected to back then.

It seems when protests against Israel's genocide took off a year ago, so many people had already forgotten about the retaliation against the BLM protests of 2020. I saw so many people seemingly surprised by the reaction of the police, educational institutions, and public officials as if this wasn't a repeat of the response from less than 4 years ago. As if many of us are not still dealing with the consequences of that retaliation in the courts, in our personal and professional lives, with our physical and mental health.

It's not fair for me to feel too harshly about people just joining the fight now, when there were surely people feeling the same way in 2020 who'd been in the fight since 2014, 2012, the 90s, for decades before. Some of us feel the consequences for the rest of our lives and have to learn to fight in different ways. We rely on those joining now to fight on the front lines, even if it invariably will create more of us, the fighters who can't fight anymore. Some of us fighting through institutions or less disruptive organizing, some of us mentally and financially crippled by the state, some of us locked up, some of us dead through mysterious means.

This is all to say I feel so incredibly powerless. I don't like to talk about what I went through here, because I don't want to connect an anonymous account to my real life at all, partially because of the consequences I am still suffering. I have so much anger born from so much powerlessness. I have so much shame for not doing more. I have no money left to give, I have to think of my own still developing situation. I have no ability to protest, I have no ability to organize, I have no space in my mind to give. I am being selfish because I am fighting to survive the retaliation of the state.

In response to what I went through, I developed a reactionary belief that it isn't worth doing something that won't be effective. This is pretty contrary to the mindset of most people who organize against the trillion dollar war machine, and they're right to think differently. It is worth doing something because it needs to be done, and even a drop in the bucket is a drop more than was there before. If no one does anything, if there is no resistance, what world would we see? In the face of overwhelming tragedy, even the smallest bit of relief on the smallest scale can make a difference. To help even one person makes your efforts worth something.

I don't believe in sacrificing yourself in silence, I don't think it helps anyone. I don't believe in turning yourself into cannon fodder and being glossed over by the media as you're ground under the wheels of the war machine. I believe in collective action, I believe in disruption, I believe in resistance, I believe in the sacrifices made to get us here and the sacrifices being made right now. But I hate that so many of us will be destroyed in the name of righteousness. I hate that it will go on for years after everyone has stopped paying attention to what is happening to us. I hate that the people fighting along side us don't have the resources to protect us once the hype has died down.

I hate that people are dying and having their lives destroyed at our expense. I hate that sacrificing ourselves for them won't stop any of it from happening. I hate that people are begging us for help and many of us have little or nothing to give. I hate that awareness of complicity doesn't mean we can stop being complicit. I hate that there is no easy or simple answer for what we can do like we thought there would be if this ever happened again. I hate that not falling in line with the war machine gets it turned against you. I hate that the overwhelming response to horrific acts being committed in your name is to find a way to justify and deny them. I hate that that viewpoint is being supported so aggressively to protect the imperial war machine.

Hopelessness isn't an option, because it's the same as abandoning the victims of a genocide. I can't find it in my heart to blame anyone who can't do much to help because I feel powerless as well. I don't believe in altruism, I don't believe in unfettered righteousness, I don't believe in moral superiority. I don't believe in denying your own feelings of shame and helplessness in the face of a tragedy you're not the victim of. I believe in struggle and effort. I believe in finding spaces to work through those feelings so you don't end up turning away to spare yourself from them. Shame is not a motivator. Community support and leading by example is.

I have lost so many connections over the last couple years. I'm afraid I've lost even more here through inactivity (at the very least). I guess I don't know what to do except to keep trying, even in ways that seem too shamefully small to mean anything.

[springbons]

APPARENTLY MY BLOG IS LIKE YOURS??? TUMBLR IN WHAT WORLD-

Anyways, flowery ask hehe.

For CY (because I can):

🍄🌾🍃🌵

And for Samson (because I MUST know more about him)

🌷☘️🍁🏵️

Oh lovely! A great deal of questions! I don't check ANY of these beforehand so I'm absolutely just gonna blindly go through these. 🍄 How likely is your OC to eat random berries/mushrooms they find? Riktor usually has some knowledge about everything and is able to make an educated guess. Derringer just stuffs it in his mouth and pays the consequences later. Kurt has no issue with poisons made for biological creatures. He may be carbon based but he gives 0 cares about your bothers. (That was horrible-) Moira will avoid anything she doesn't know (Like a normal person) Tarrel atleast tries to TEST what he's eating before he shoves it in his mouth. Vyra's a freak and eats poison berries. 🌾How picky is your OC with food? What will and won't they eat? Riktor USED to be picky, but not too much nowadays. Derringer used to NOT be picky, but he holds a terrifying grudge against pickles now-a-days. (He hasn't been the same since the incident.) Kurt refuses to touch Sauerkraut. He doesn't trust it. Moira is not someone who necessarily cares but she can't CHEW anything (or she Couldn't...) and so she prefers foods that take very little time in the mouth or can just be swallowed whole. Tarrel drinks WATER and ULTRA-PROCESSED NUTRIENT BARS. He literally cannot stand something as simple as fresh-cooked unseasoned chicken just because it's Solid Solid and it grosses him out... As a Dragon, A.K.A a Predator, that's kind of Sad. Vyra has... Asked to be left out of the rest of the asks-PFFT- 🍃What's the darkest period of time your OC has been through? "That mansion... It was like it never ended." -R "Uhh I believe it started when I was born, or atleast when we went to magic school and it sure as shit hasn't ended yet." -D "2000 years and the Iraq war was somehow the worst place I've ever been in. Back then, War was about honor... Now it's just atrocities..." -K "Same, but why are we all talking instead of the normal text?" -M "It's stylistically interesting and saves on time-Uhh the S.S. Discovery, but I think being DEAD might top that." -T 🌵How physically resilient is your OC? Riktor is like wet tissue paper in a suit of nigh impenetrable armor. Who needs to work out when Magic is so good? Derringer, despite being the same man, somehow holds up better in physical combat. He doesn't care about Magic as much but he'll definitely use it to his advantage. Kurt bounces almost fuckin' EVERYTHING. "If anyone could defeat god it's Kurt" as you said once. Tarrel cut off his own fucking arm, YOU TELL ME- Onto Samson! 🌷What is your OC's favourite flower and colour? He's not quite sure what he likes. His answer was a confident Blue, and "The Sticks." I think he means Wheat. His favorite flower is Wheat... ☘️How passionate is your OC about things they love/hate? That's a really weird question tbh. If it's asking what lengths he'll go to protect those he loves...? I'm not quite sure yet. He's fought a man already, and tried to bite through his gloves, but what would he REALLY sacrifice? I don't think he thought his life was at stake there Really. 🍁What is your OC's favourite season? Why and what do they do during it? Anything not unbearably hot or frigidly cold. His jumpsuit didn't keep heat very well, but during summer working in the camps would nearly kill him. He appreciated Fall the most because it wasn't humid and it was bearable. 🏵️What flower symbolises your OC best and why? What does the flower mean in floriography? Geranium. Hardy, bright, perennial, and I believe it means "Sincereness" They're often used as symbols of Friendship aswell, and tell a good bit about Samson's character in my opinion.

[sunfloralchaos]

79% and 80% (my phone went down a percentage as i was sending this) for Nyria!!

Getting these questions for Nyria is making me feel some kind of way ohmy. Get ready for a FUCKING WALL of text.

79%. Does your character feel guilty for anything in their past?

0-0 Oh boy do they

A big part of Nyria's story was dealing with survivors' guilt, they were the sole survivor of a ship wreck/pirate attack and felt responsible, more responsible than anyone should believe. She felt like it was her fault as helmsman for not doing enough to get away, her fault for scraping up against the rocks that started to sink the ship, her fault for ending up over board, instead of fighting to save anyone. She thought everyone died thinking her a coward.

Adding to the guilt was the fact a rumour went around declaring her a traitor, actively blaming her because people couldn't figure out how she survived unless she caused it. There was no ship, no bodies, no anything to exonerate them and it only added to their grief.

80%. If your character was asked to associate an adjective to each stage of their life what would they choose and why?

Watch me Google what an adjective is to make sure I'm answering this right

Childhood/Teens: Easy

She had an easy childhood for most part. It was simple and joyful and yet, the cloud of war and loss was constantly shadowing her life. But they didn't really realise just how much at the time. Because their parents went out of their way to live a life that was bright despite that.

Late teens: Grey

Her Parents died when she was 18, and it marked the first time that the grief of existence affected her directly. The first but not last of so so much loss. And they struggled a lot as a result, reality feeling a little too heavy, a little too grey. The first time they had the urge to run

20's: Bittersweet

They spent the first part of their 20s travelling with The Ivory Witch, the ship she worked on, the ship she found new family, new joy, the place she found colour again, where she met her first love. It was easy, it was fun, it made them who they were. It felt neverending. But it was always marred by the fact she was running from who she was "supposed" to be, hiding from the grief lest it swallow her whole. Scared to let her guard down, happy but yet so immeasurably sad.

Late 20's: Red

The Witch is attacked and destroyed, everyone but her lost. The last she saw of the ship was her partner getting a sword through his chest. Red for the blood of those lost, red for the sails of the ship that attacked them. Red for her own blood, from their own injuries. Red as the sacrifice they made to stay alive, Red as the sacrifices they continued to make whilst half conscious. Red for the blood spilled by their own hands, both their own blood and that of others. Red as the rage and want for revenge, Red as the desperation to do something correctly for once, to stop being on the losing end.

Events of campaign: Whiplash

Having spent the better part of half a year barely conscious and seemingly always injured and dying, it then stopped. Suddenly, they were conscious and no longer alone. Suddenly there was a reason to give a shit again. People she was desperate to not lose again. But by that point they were an omen of death for many, and were scared. There were moments of joy, the happiest and safest she had ever been, and always round the corner; tragedy. She continued to lose, people, her sanity, losing time. It made her incredibly paranoid, made her superstition worse. She meet her best friends, she met Kesefeon her beloved. They sacrificed, they fought, they desperately tried to win something for once. Constant tragedy, and yet even at the bleakest moments, the joy of finally having someone, something to fight for. Something to want beyond violence and revenge.

[burnnouts]

"It seems there is much I might learn from you." The words were, in part, simple flattery; that was, after all, the purpose of this ball, this meeting--to bring peace between their new nations, to settle old disputes and let the bad blood dry at last. But there was truth there as well. They had lived very different lives, seen different lands, and met very different people along their journeys. The North was adamant that the Southerners did not--and could not--understand their traditions, but Robb understood that this went both ways. The North was secluded. Even when it had been part of the Seven Kingdoms, it had truly been a land of its own: its own gods, its own customs. There was much about life in the South they simply did not understand.

When the war had begun, when his men had first declared him King in the North, Robb had naively believed they might live forever in a sort of self imposed isolation. That they might cut the South off for good and he might never have to worry again about the lands and people beyond his own borders. Now, he saw how foolish that was. They had gotten their independence, but neighbors they remained, and understanding the South was the first step toward prolonged peace between their new nations.

"No," Rob agreed. "Survival is to win the war. When the war is over, you still must live in the world you have created." Had they created a good one? He had asked himself that same question every day since the war had begun. Was he doing the right thing? Had he truly avenged his father? Were his decisions as king the right ones to protect his people and keep the North safe? And right there was part of the problem: he had spent so long worrying about keeping them safe; now, he must make sure they were happy.

He was quiet as she spoke of her time in Dorne. He had not dared to ask, but he could not help but wonder about her time in that land, about the marriage she had almost had. It was clear in her words that she was happy there. He, too, had been happy once. Happily married, expecting a child. And he had lost it all in a single night. Had that been his sacrifice, as she'd said? "I am sorry you had to leave. It sounds as if you were happy. I wish you did not have to give up such things, though it is our duty, I suppose, as you've said. You are braver than I. When given the choice, I chose what my heart ached for." A girl he was not meant to marry, a vow that broke his oath. And it had nearly cost him everything.

"I do not regret it, but I regret that others were hurt in the process. I regret that it was a choice that had to be made." He cleared his throat. He would rather not think about his late wife. He wondered if she felt the same when she spoke of Tristan--that tearing pain in her chest, that ache. "My father taught me that fear was part of ruling. He said he woke with fear in the morning and went to bed with fear in the night. I didn't believe him. I asked him, 'How can a man be brave if he's afraid?' That's the only time a man can be brave, he told me. If you are afraid, I believe you must be doing something right."

He smiled. "I might melt." Yet, he was not a full Northener. He had the Riverlands in his blood just as much as he did Winterfell. Walking through the sunshine, feeling that warmth upon his skin, had been the best part of the war.

He took her hand as it was offered. "Lead the way, Your Grace."

Myrcella   smiled   at   Robb’s   words,   the   soft   glow   of   the   hall   casting   delicate   shadows   across   her   face.   There   was   a   certain   tension   in   his   awkwardness   that   she   found   endearing—an   echo   of   the   Robb   Stark   she   had   heard   stories   about,   the   young   lord   who   had   fought   so   fiercely   for   the   North   and   now   wore   a   crown   as   heavy   as   her   own.   The   Queen   of   the   Six   Kingdoms   held   herself   with   a   grace   learned   in   the   courts   of   King's   Landing   and   honed   by   the   trials   of   rulership,   but   she   had   never   forgotten   her   time   in   Dorne.   It   was   a   part   of   her,   just   as   surely   as   the   Baratheon   blood   in   her   veins.

“War   has   taught   us   many   things,”   she   said,   her   voice   light   but   not   without   meaning.   “But   it   is   peace   that   teaches   us   how   to   live.   The   dances   and   feasts   I   once   attended   seemed   so   frivolous   in   the   wake   of   battle,   but   I’ve   come   to   realize   they   have   their   place,   too.   They   remind   people   what   we   are   fighting   for.”

Her   gaze   lingered   on   him,   his   stiff   posture   and   careful   smile   betraying   the   burden   he   carried   as   king.   She   understood   it   better   than   most.   The   Six   Kingdoms   had   watched   with   wide   eyes   as   she   legitimized   her   siblings—bastards,   some   would   call   them,   though   she   never   did.   It   had   been   necessary,   and   yet,   the   whispers   that   followed   her   every   step   had   grown   louder   with   each   passing   day.   “The   North   has   always   known   survival,”   she   continued,   “but   survival   is   no   longer   enough   for   us,   is   it?”

She   hesitated,   wondering   how   much   to   share.   She   chose   to   answer   a   question   he   hadn’t   quite   asked,   yet   one   she   felt   they   both   understood.   “I   miss   Dorne   sometimes,”   she   admitted   softly.   “The   warmth,   the   colors,   the   freedom   of   it.   Trystane.   But…   being   queen   means   making   choices.   Sacrifices.   It   means   always   looking   forward,   even   when   your   heart   aches   for   what   you   left   behind.”

“I   never   thought   I   would   rule,   and   now   that   I   do,   I   find   that   fear   is   my   constant   companion—fear   of   making   the   wrong   choice,   of   failing   the   people   who   rely   on   me.   But   I   suppose   you   understand   that   better   than   anyone.”   Her   eyes   found   his   again,   a   shared   understanding   passing   between   them.   They   had   both   inherited   crowns   they   hadn’t   been   born   for,   and   the   weight   of   them   was   not   easily   shared.

“Perhaps   one   day,   you   will   see   Dorne,”   Myrcella   added   with   a   faint   smile.   “Though   I   must   warn   you—once   you   feel   the   sun   on   your   skin   there,   you   may   never   wish   to   leave.”   She   let   out   a   soft   laugh,   one   that   felt   surprisingly   easy   in   his   company.   “And   as   for   dancing…”   She   stepped   a   little   closer,   offering   her   hand   with   a   playful   glint   in   her   eye.   “If   you   wish   to   remember   how,   your   queen   would   be   happy   to   help   you   relearn. ”

[luxmaeastra]

He'd held his tongue and probably this empire for as long as he could. He couldn't imagine what Genya was telling him and Vasiya. It couldn't true. Anastasiya had been grieving but she'd never ask her daughter to do this...right?

Jurian strode through the halls mulling the last few years over her head. Had she always been this close to madness ajd he'd never known? Had Aleksander encouraged this thinking? Had she sunk into this when he was gone and not able to drag her out? 

"Anastasiya?"

She didn't look up from the report on her desk. Her clothes hung limp on her. She ate when she was forced to - as a mean to sustain herself. But there was no joy in the act. 

"Did you bring the briefings? I need them to corroborate the -"

"Did you ask Genya to seduce that fae official?"

Anastasiya went silent but slowly looked to them. Her eyes cold and impassive. 

"Did she not do it? Or was she caught -"

"You told your daughter to seduce an emissary of -"

"Don't act like we didn't do things in that war on father's orders Jurian. We -"

He leaned onto the desk, lightning sparking on his fingers. He pushed Miryam from his mind. The way his body had revolted at her touch. 

"I hated it. You know what those orders did to me. How could you tell her to follow in that? How could you whore your own child out to -"

Anastasiya's eyes flashed and she raised her chin to meet his eyes. 

"She is a princess of this empire. She will make the sacrifices I ask of her Jurian or she can leave and hide like her sister did. The fae official is rumored to know where Drakon hid that Cauldron. We need it if Aleksander is to come home to -"

"He isn't coming back Anastasiya! He is dead and you are driving our empire to ruins! You are becoming exactly like Hypaxia? Do you not see it! How do you not hear the way our people cry for justice and demand peace? How much more death and destruction can they take?"

She leaned toward him, her voice low crackling ice. 

"They will ensure till I have my Aleksander back. If they cannot handle that they are welcome to leave. I'm sure the fae will happy to have more bodies for their pleasure houses or wine orchards. There is no nice home, there is no peace in this world. They leave they become the fae's whores. Or they are dragged to the Fae Orchards and their blood watering their fields to make Soulwine. The Asteri keep us all on edge and since I don't have the means or power to destory Midgard. This is what I am doing with my time. What are you doing Jurian besides whining at injustice?"

--------

Alina held the Archoness crown, she held more power than she ever had. If it wasn't for the singular goal she'd raze it all to the ground. 

She looked at Aleksander. Anastasiya hadn't left his arms but she didn't look to be providing any information.

Alina herself tried to focus on them and not the taste of power she was surely about loose. She'd used the Asteri and beat them at their own game. It was only a matter of time before they killed her. 

It helped the Changelings and other dark forces were hunting them down and scattering the fae and laying waste to Midgard. It would buy them a few extra weeks to hide. 

"Jurian chased Anastasiya out. They fought but we weren't briefed about what. Ulla has taken the mantle she sent a missive for you Aleksander."

Ivan put the letter down on the counter and stepped back. He didn't even know if Aleksander even knew or heard anything they'd both said. They'd done this for him, had broken every rule they'd grown up in. They'd destoryed the last bit of balance this world had. 

It was anyone's guest what happened now.

//it got worse 👀//

A few extra weeks, to hide. The notion made his blood bail with rage, his anger seethed within him as he thought about everything they had built after all these years. Everything, they had obtained it with Alina.

However, the enemies she made. He had never calculated what had happened, he had never imagined that Night's Beating Heart would put herself forward.

His fingers gently brushed through Anatasiya's hair, his gaze rose to meet Ivan as he spoke. The information he gave caused his chin to tighten, he had always known Jurian was never going to be an ally. Not someone that they could trust.

"Thank you Ivan." He reached out his hand as he took the letter, opening it to read the missive from his daughter.

[kte-alxxndr]

Something About the Night

Chapter 10: The Man Who Stayed Young and a Hundred Years Later

"Aren't you tired?" She asks him. "I could burry you here beside your family. Plant a tree, make it grow over your bones."

He just laughs at her statement. After a hundred years it was the first time he went back to Small Heath, to visit his family's grave. Even till death family is still all you've got.

"I see you," he says to her. She was kneeling in front of the gravestone tracing the names with her touch. "I have seen your truest form. You cannot scare me now."

"And what is my truest form?" She asks.

"Beautiful." Even after a hundred years, it was only her to knew Tommy Shelby could be poetic.

They walk hand in hand through the streets of Small Heath. It still the same little town Tommy Shelby grew up on, but it was less smoke and much greener. The Garrison still stands still owned the Shelby's. The factories were gone, and Charlie's yard was still Charlie's Yard now a small shipping port.

Being back in Small Heath brings back many memories, from the game of chase in Watery Lane to the fights at The Garrison - back then everything seemed to be all in black and white and now colors were splattered everywhere one would look.

"I don't understand. Why end their lives when they're reaching their peak?"

He knows what she do, but after all these years it's still a mystery to him why she does it.

She looks at him, "They made their deal. They knew the cost.”

“Why would anyone trade a lifetime of talent for a few years of glory?"

"Because time is cruel to all. Vision weakens, and voices wither, and talent fades." She stops and looks at him. "Because happiness is brief, and history is lasting, and in the end, everyone wants to be remembered."

Her words are a knife, cutting swift and deep. But he didn’t want to be remembered, his name still lives on, his family made sure of that. But even still, he only wanted her.

They continue their walk, "What’s the strangest deal you’ve done?"

"A young boy from France," she says. "A soul so new and young and innocent in exchange for a soul so rotten."

Tommy frowns. "What happened?"

"He asked for his father to be taken. They were being beaten and if not, slaves to their own kin. He prayed and prayed and prayed the night they could have died in their father's hands. I could hear his pain in his unspoken words and tears, so I answered him.

"Who you sacrifice to matters less than what you sacrifice for. I fed his father's soul to the crow's and planted his on the village where his little brother then made a house beside his."

"What about me?"

"You were the best prayer that I answered."

Who you sacrifice to matters less than what you sacrifice for.

It was true.

Give and take.

Family comes first.

He was tired of his family being looked down upon, to be walked over by those who are above, to think on where to get the money they need or where to get their next meal.

He wanted her, but can't have her.

Give and take. To be hers he offered himself in exchange for power and money for his family. Because family comes first.

"Let Arrow House stand." It was Polly Gray's last will. And the house did stand.

Polly took in the vacant position and Finn was given a seat. The company grew and expanded, it stive amidst the problems the world was facing and was now the largest in the world. It stayed Limited as a reminder to those who knew of the prayer that was answered and what was offered.

Not long after the Second World War, Polly received an enveloped and inside of it was a picture of Tommy Shelby and the lady who wore white. It a little blurry but still visible to see the subject, Tommy Shelby never aged a day, and it seemed that the laws of time didn't apply to him. That picture was his way of telling that that he was alright.

Ada moved in to Arrow House, and by then a certain amount of the company's yearly income was put into a separate account dedicated only to the maintenance and repairs of Arrow House. Everything will be left as it is and it was signed by the Shelby siblings who believed that one day their brother would return.

On one peaceful evening of the year 2022, there was a knock on the door of Arrow House. Julia opens it and immediately recognizes the man, it was the same man in the paintings at the office and the dinning hall.

The man introduces himself as Thomas Michael Shelby the Third, Tommy Shelby's grandson and his wife YN Shelby. They came from abroad, he tells that his grandfather told him that if he ever wanted to go to Birmingham a house will opens its doors to him.

Julia's was Frances' great granddaughter and their family were appointed as the trusted caretakers of Arrow House. There was only one rule to follow and was to be passed down to each generation: Never close the doors to the man on the painting.

Everything was indeed as how he left it, from the books on his office to the clothes in his room. He didn't even had a hard time finding the wine and glasses that he needs. Despite the modern age, Arrow House was like him, unchanging.

Tommy enters the drawing room and finds YN on the couch looking at fire. He sets the bottle and glasses by the table and took the space besides her. His arms fold around her shoulders, and she leans back against his chest. They do fit together.

He looks at the cracking fire then proceeds to ask, "You don't burn in the sun like those vampires, so why do you like the night so much?"

She was a lady of night. Sleeping in the day, awake in the night.

"Because it is the time when people get vulnerable." She says. "After the sun has sets and the moon rises, humans take off the mask they put on. All the walls put down, worries flows, desires crashing. They show the world who they really are, who they want to be, in a way they don't want the world to know."

"The courageous gets scared, the weak hopes, the happy cries, and the sad laughs. There are others who wanted more, and others who wanted less. Some uncontented by what they have, then there are the ones taking what they can't have. All of these happen during the night, and its amusing to sometimes just watch and listen. And when you come across a prayer so loud you cannot ignore, you answer, but sometimes you just listen."

He holds her tighter, kissing the nape of her neck, and he murmurs, "They can pray all they want, so long as I have you."

She twists in his arms to look at him.

"Happy Anniversary, my YN."

"Happy Anniversary, my Tommy."

And they shared a kiss. A kiss like the ones before, but different from the ones that still yet to come.

Everything changes. It was the nature of the world. Nothing stays the same. But he knows something that is constant and will be everlasting.

His love for her.

End.

[ Masterlist ] [ Previous Chapter ]

Note: Thank you peaky humans for the support. I hope y'all enjoy this story. There'll be a bonus chapter set after the wedding and somewhere between chapter 9, I'll post it in a day or two. If you have any questions feel free to message me or leave a comment, don't forget to reblog. Once again, thank you peaky humans. ♡♡♡

Taglist: @heidimoreton @akiisbae @iamsassys-blog @woofgocows @owishiiimeeeowww97 @nanamin-pointo @rockerchick05 @comfortzonequeen @watercolorskyy @theshelbyslimited @ebonynextdoor @evita-shelby @star017 @katiebvb2003

[donutloverxo]

Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.