#but only because they were setting up his death

[angelthefandomobsessed]

After putting it off continuously, I have downloaded and started to play chapter 1. I’m riiiight before the trial, so I decided to go back and read this analysis to see if it was still holding up…

(Some chapter 1 spoilers ahead)

Desmond is totally a bodyguard to Eloise or something, right? Eva had his secret which implied his priority was protecting someone else (unless I’ve gotten mixed up which is a real possibility, I am very tired). He’s seems to be around her a lot (if memory serves, they were both in the courtyard in the prologue), and fencing is a very upper class pastime. Plus, one of the most famous swan stories is the swan princess, adding to that air of nobility that Eloise has.

I wrote: ‘Sharks, apparently, symbolise protection and guidance, so I think Desmond will probably pair up with another character... which will lead to an untimely death, with a very sad flashback scene at the end of a trial.’

Hi, hello, I fear I may have been on point with that.

I also wrote about Wolfgang being a wolf in sheep’s clothing, which was directly mentioned through the motive. Not the most outrageous of predictions, but good for my ego all the same.

To put my predictions for the first trial down (for funsies):

I don’t think it can be Damon, Eva, Cassidy, Jett, Mark, Kai, Jean, or Grace. The only potential exceptions in this list are Jean and Grace, who arrived late. For either of them to be the culprit, the murder would have needed to involve a trap that could be set off without them. However, for that to be the case, there would need to be another person in the boiler room, as someone was heard running away, and all eight people were accounted for at the time.

Ruling out Jean and Grace, I’m left with Toshiko, Ingrid, Diana, Wenona, Ulysses, Eloise, and Desmond.

I believe that Ulysses wrote the note. It matches his handwriting the closest, and he is always seen with a notebook. The wire piece at the scene also looked like a leg from a pair of glasses, with how rounded the end was. I’m pretty sure Wenona gave him an alibi, so I’m not fully convinced that he’s the killer, but I have sus on him.

Toshiko is a little suspicious, as she mentioned cereal at the start of the chapter, and cereal was apparently involved in the breaking of the generator. I’m not double checking this in case I get spoiled, but I imagine she wears socks and sandals of some sort because that’s traditional wear? Eva (I think it was her) mentioned that the person running sounded like they were in socks. There’s also the fact that Ingrid was sick, and Toshiko was her room mate, and that she was confirmed that have visited the pharmacy, and that Wolfgang appears to have a pin prick at his neck… She’s afraid of needles, though, so that might clear her (unless she was lying, but that seems… convoluted).

Diana is super suspicious, but way too obviously so? It could be her (she eluded to having some sort of pre-established plan for the morning, but then claimed to be testing make-up).

Logically, I suspect Ulysses. Narratively, I suspect Eloise.

I am not confident either way, I will be amazed if it’s someone one of the tournaments 8.

As for the method, I’ll go with this theory: Wolfgang was either called down to the boiler room through the note (OR he intercepted a summons meant for someone else), he arrived around 8:10, as instructed. He was knocked out with the rolling pin, the killer drew blood from his neck to splatter through the halls (falsifying evidence), and set some kind of bomb up at the generator. They put Wolfgang in the water, reversed the lock, locked the door. If this is anything close to the order of events, then I’m actually more suspicious of Jean.

Some kind of magic battery was mentioned, which Jett and Jean spoke about. If that was the basis for the destruction of the generator (or, if it was the cause of the electricity), that would implicate the two people who knew about it. Jean was late to the tournament, and knew that being there would give him an alibi. Wolfgang had burns on his hands - maybe Jett knows a thing or two about that specific burning and can crack the case open.

Okay, I’m going to bed now, before I start putting red wool on the walls.

Danganronpa Project Eden's Garden: Animal Symbolism

Okay, so I just finished the prologue (adored it, the writing is impeccable), and noticed that each character features an animal on their clothing. I'm sure tons of people have pointed it out already, but I thought it'd be fun to go through the symbolism of each, alongside any other observations I had.

Damon Maitsu:

Damon's signature animal is one of the more obvious ones - it's the big snake on his tie. Biblically, snakes are kind of a big deal... Just one snake, really, which gave all of the others a bad name. In 'Garden of Eden' arc of the Bible (which is relevant for obvious reasons), a snake tempts Eve to eat the forbidden fruit. The snake basically says "Hey queen, the apple won't kill you, it'll show you the truth, God's a liar." Adam and Eve eat the fruit, condemning humanity to eternal suffering.

Painting Damon as the snake tells us a lot about his role in the narrative and his characterisation. The main theme for Eden's Garden seems to be 'head vs heart', or 'logic vs emotion'. While some characters lean towards emotion, Damon leans towards logic... But based on the Pathos system, he doesn't fully condemn emotion - it can be a good tool when it comes to winning arguments, after all.

At the end of the prologue, Damon disagrees with seeing the good in everyone. He argues that the ultimates are more likely to stab each other in the back than to help each other unconditionally... In other words, he argues that ultimates are ambitious, to the point of throwing away their morals - because he himself is ambitious to a fault.

While a lot of people see snakes as creatures of evil (particularly when it comes to THE snake in the Bible), it could be argued that the snake is an agent of the greater good. Yes, the snake was the catalyst for the fall of humanity, but you could argue it was also the catalyst for the first critical thought. Adam and Eve questioned the word of their creator and chose to go against him. That didn't end very well for them, but you could argue it liberated them.

Would you rather be a sheep, at the mercy of your shepherd, or a snake that sees the world for what it truly is?

Wolfgang Akire:

Speaking of sheep... Wolfgang has a pretty neat (very symbolic) sheep pin. The idea of him picking out a sheep pin in like... a Claire's Accessories is very funny to me.

Much like snakes, sheep are also very Biblically relevant. In the Bible, God's people are usually cloaked in sheep imagery. God is the shepherd (fun fact: 'shepherd' derives from 'sheep' 'herd'), and the sheep are at his mercy. In that light, a sheep is a truly powerless thing.

Perhaps Wolfgang's sheep pin denotes him as a follower rather than a leader. Not to a specific person, but rather to an ideology - to his own morals, which he seems very attached to. Sheep are often seen as weak, existing only to be devoured by stronger, more predatory animals.

But this symbolism might exist here to be subverted. One of the most popular sheep-based phrases is (drum roll please): "Wolf in sheep's clothing".

Lawyer man is, quite literally, a wolf in sheep's clothing. His name has the word 'wolf' in it. He has a sheep on his clothing.

Does Wolfgang obsess over justice due to a guilty conscious? Is it a cover to mask his deepest, most despicable thoughts? Only time will tell, but I'm onto you, lawyer man... If that's even your real name.

Eva Tsunaka:

Okay, so I'm not 100% sure if Eva's animal is a raven or a crow, but I don't think it matters too much, people tend to perceive 'ominous medium-sized black bird' in a similar way, regardless of the specifics. Eva has a black feather in her hair and a badge with a bird's head on it. The badge looks a little bit emu-ish (which would be really funny), but the general vibe is more in line with a crow/raven.

For simplicity's sake, I'll mostly talk about ravens, because I think (don't quote me on this, I have not read the actual Bible) crows are never actually mentioned... but ravens are, so we'll go with that.

SO, ravens, black birds. Apparently, the first bird to be mentioned by name in the Bible is the raven, which... lines up with Eva being the first named bird character we meet (there are a lot of bird people, we'll get to it). During the whole Noah's Arc debacle, Noah sent out a raven to scout for dry land - it didn't come back (I think? It gets mentioned, 'tos and fros' and then doesn't get mentioned again, so I think it dipped which honestly, girlboss move).

Other than that, a raven was used as a divine messenger at one point, but I think the much more interesting (and relevant) aspects of the raven is the general symbolism.

Ravens are usually seen as bad news - much like the snake, they get a bad rep. While they are often seen as bad omens, they can also be seen as beings of spiritual wisdom. They see more than others can, much like Eva. When the others start to do the whole 'We'll never kill each other!' it's Eva who disagrees, seeing the reality of the situation.

Based on the word 'Danganronpa' being associated with the game, we can assume she's correct, and that the bodies will start hitting the floor very soon.

Eva is wise and holds a lot of knowledge, but she is distrusted for reasons outwith her control. She didn't ask to be the ultimate liar - some random organisation sent her a letter one day putting that label on her.

Interestingly, ravens are the natural enemies of farmers... and Wolfgang has a distinct agricultural reference on his lapel.

To summarise: people don't like ravens, but they're very smart birds who can (in certain mythologies/cultures, at least), see beyond the surface level).

Toshiko Kayura:

Toshiko's assigned animal is a little harder to spot. Two flamingos are on her skirt as a decal, making them less obvious (especially during waist-up shots).

Okay, so I'm no expert on this, but I'm pretty sure there aren't any flamingos in the Bible. Flamingos played a part in Egyptian beliefs, being associated with Ra, and they might actually be the original inspiration for phoenixes which... is kind of hilarious? The Aztecs saw them as sacred, and in Hindu culture they symbolise hamsa, a divine vehicle, which symbolises the realise from samsara, aka the cycle of suffering.

So... that could be a thing relating to Toshiko. She could be destined to act as a turning point in the narrative (either through death or through character development, same difference).

Or, we could go with the really obvious interpretation of 'flamingo = romance'. Which is very on-brand. Additionally, flamingos represent balance and elegance - mainly because of their 'standing on one leg' trick. Toshiko most likely strives to embody the qualities of a flamingo in these regards.

The use of flamingos in Toshiko's design might point to her being 'the heart' of the group. She's shown to be quite emotional (becoming flustered when challenged, avoiding the investigation, getting into an argument over gremlin-hood with Grace), despite trying to emulate a mature aura. She speaks in frivolous, convoluted imagery, which is peak fourteen-year-old behaviour, and if anything bad happens to her I will cry :D

Ulysses Wilhelm:

Rather than having a picture of an animal, Ulysses wears an owl pendant. Owls represent wisdom, and are particularly fitting for Ulysses due to him being more of a night owl.

Biblically, owls are seen as unclean birds, alongside ravens. They aren't overly relevant, but are (allegedly, according to some random Bible forum) used to symbolise loneliness, desolation, guilt and mourning. In a broader sense, owls are seen as wise, critical-thinking creatures, and independent.

Because of this, I think Ulysses will fall into the Damon/Eva camp of thinking, due to his historical knowledge. Because if history's taught us anything, it's that people can't be trusted, they will self-sabotage, and murder is inevitable.

I don't have much else to say - Ulysses feels like an early victim/blackened candidate, unfortunately, so I don't think he'll be playing a major role narratively.

Desmond Hall:

This one's a little hard to spot immediately (and when I did spot it, I wasn't sure which animal it belonged to), but according to the concept art Desmond has a shark tooth earring.

There are no sharks in the Bible. Sharks, apparently, symbolise protection and guidance, so I think Desmond will probably pair up with another character... which will lead to an untimely death, with a very sad flashback scene at the end of a trial. Or he'll survive, who says Biblical relevancy matters? Sharks are pretty cool and so is Desmond.

I think he'll be an optimist in the situation, but I... don't have much to say regarding his animal motif.

Grace Madison:

This one is pretty up there for the 'easiest to spot award'. Grace's animal is a rabbit, which can be seen by her (adorable) rabbit-eared visor.

Biblically rabbits are pretty irrelevant, but symbolically they're very prominent. Rabbits are probably most famous for their easter connotations (you'd think they'd be Biblical, but no, it just says not to eat them). Rabbits are also known as lucky animals - 'rabbit feet' are seen as lucky talismans...

If Grace ends up with a severed foot, I'm going to lose my mind.

Anyway, since Grace is the resident 'reckless and crude' character, I would theorise her link to rabbits would be 'rebirth'. Rabbits are associated with spring, which is associated with rebirth. I think Grace (who is described as someone who burns every bridge she makes) will undergo the Fuyuhiko treatment and see a lot of character development.

Not much else for me to say here, but rabbits are generally seen as active animals (energiser bunny, the Scorbunny line), so... yay sports..?

Diana Venicia:

I do not trust this girl as far as I can throw her. I saw her across the room and thought, "No, you're evil", and the chameleon bracelet did not help her case.

Like... not only does it suggest she's hiding something, or that she's a social chameleon, but it looks like a handcuff, that cannot be comfortable. And oddly enough, chameleons do feature in the Bible... and it's very odd, and very interesting.

Basically, chameleons conform to their surroundings through their unique abilities. God likes that for them, but not for humans - apparently, they should challenge things rather than just conforming to them. Which like, okay, someone changed their tune from "Don't do this one thing, no I will not elaborate". In actuality, what this means is "you should not be different on Monday to how you were on Sunday", aka, be #authentic.

Also, chameleons are seen as 'not standing up for what's right', so I guess that's where Diana falls on the morality spectrum, maybe possibly?

Diana is hiding something, she's on my mastermind radar but it feels a little too obvious? If she's not a mastermind, she hiding something and is a killer, nothing can redeem her from being shady in my eyes. I'm onto you, make-up girl...

(My guess is the beauty industry/Hollywood requires a degree of fakery, and she hates it, but she wanted to be successful so she gave into the fakery, and lost her true self in the process. And hey, maybe at some point she decided that she had to see the true twistedness of humanity via a killing game, who knows? Plus, make-up, that's very Junko-ish of her, just saying-)

Jean DeLamer:

Okay, so some people got 'owl' or 'flamingo', but this man got a whole dragon. And he cannot be more deserving of it, fly high king.

I really didn't think there were dragons in the Bible, but apparently they get a mention (in all fairness, it's a real big book). Fun fact: Biblically, they are usually mentioned to reference sea monsters. On brand for our sea captain. Bad news though, dragons are pretty exclusively evil (sometimes straight-up Satan), and are vanquished by God. So... Not great for Jean, honestly, that's concerning.

Could he have a connection to the killing game? He could be a traitor of some sort, or he could try to rise up against the KG and get struck down.

Basically: Jean has no power here, he will lose every time, if the Bible-dragons are anything to go by.

Anyways, dragons are pretty relevant in... most cultures, so this is probably the most interesting thing I can dig up.

Jett Dawson:

In my original post, I mislabelled Jett's animal as a wolf. Somebody in the comments corrected me, pointing out that it's a coyote. Coyotes are closely related to wolves, so there's some symbolic overlap, but I'll rewrite the section anyways, because the original didn't shed much light on anything.

Biblically, coyotes are in a bit of an odd spot. They're seen as cunning and dangerous for the most part, but in Isaiah's passage (disclaimer: I haven't read it, I'm doing the deeply unacademic thing of trusting 'straightforwardguidance'.com) he complains that coyotes and lizards are more grateful to him than humans. This is used to demean the coyote; a wild animal is better than people in Isaiah's eyes, placing them at the low end of societal importance (not literally, ofc).

Apparently, the bible also describes these animals as being wise, due to their hunting tactics. Coyotes will hunt rabbits as a team, with one tiring a rabbit out and another finishing it off. This little tidbit does not bode well for Grace, our rabbit. But, to be fair, the presence of a coyote wouldn't go well for most small animals.

I don't have too much to say about coyotes, beyond their obvious similarity to wolves. Wolves tend to hunt sheep (which gave them a bit of a negative biblical rep), but let's be real, a sheep isn't winning many battles out in the wild.

Jett strikes me as a 'tragic killer', like our usual chapter 2/4 killers. There's wildcard energy to him, though - I could see him killing, surviving or dying, but whatever happens, there'll be a plot point surrounding his face, it seems too interesting to not be a thing.

Kai Monteago:

Butterfly, on chest, let's go.

Most obvious interpretation: social butterfly, he's an influencer.

Biblically, they're pretty irrelevant, but symbolically they're all about transformation. This could indicate character development, a change in tune, etc. Not much to say here, it could represent vulnerability (butterflies are fragile), but it's most likely a reference to the phrase social butterfly.

Mark 'Mayhem' Berskii:

His hat is, indeed, an alligator. At first I thought it was a dragon, then a crocodile, but the concept art confirms it to be an alligator.

Google couldn't tell me much about Bible alligators, which was expected. What it can tell me is the symbolism behind them, though.

Alligators are cunning and wise. Which adds up here, Mark seems way smarter than he lets on. He makes a comment at the end of a non-stop debate (something about setting the trash fire) which suggests he's a critical thinker, seeing the misguided logic in the room.

They are also apex predators with a lot of strength which... is concerning, in terms of potential murderers. Since they've been around since the prehistoric age, alligators are seen as having an ancient, primal aura about them.

I feel there's more than meets the eye with Mark - he'll carry a key discovery or two, just you wait.

Wenona:

Wenona is the girlboss we need, as well as the girlboss we deserve, no further questions. Her animal decal is a little less obvious than others', being bear pawprints at the bottom of her coat.

My favourite Bible story ever (because it's hilarious out of context) is the one about Elisha and the bears, where two bears maul forty-two children because they made fun of a guy. So, maybe don't get on her bad side via mockery.

Interestingly, bears are used to symbolise cruelty and self-servedness which... adds up here, I guess.

Symbolically, bears are a little more cuddly than the Bible makes them out to be. They're known for hibernation, making them quite patient and cautious animals. Bears are grounded animals and represent strength, being fearsome predators.

Wenona is very set in her views, and appears to be unwavering, much like a bear.

Eloise Taulner:

Eloise wears a swan pin in her hair, making that her signature animal. Swans are graceful and vicious; a fascinating combination for a character like Eloise.

In the Bible, swans are everything you'd assume a white bird to be. It's all very 'this bird is the serene love of god, do not eat it, but for different reasons'.

Symbolically, swans are loyal birds, being of the 'mates for life' variety. Something interesting to mention is the concept of a swan song - a song that laments death, said to be the most beautiful song ever sung by a swan, despite the birds being far from natural singers. In Greek mythology, swans were sacred to both Aphrodite and Apollo, with Apollo being the god of music.

Which presents the possibility of a friendship between Mark and Elodie, with him being 'music' and her being a swan.

Swans are very powerful birds, so Eloise's character arc will probably involve her becoming stronger in terms of willpower and confidence.

Ingrid Grimwall:

This one's a little harder to spot, but Ingrid's animal symbol is on her bag, in the form of a lion.

Lions are generally seen as brave, proud animals. The main Biblical story that comes to mind is the story of Daniel, who was thrown into a den of lions. A lion's roar is intended to paralyse its foes with fear, but can its bite match its bark? I suspect Ingrid will be a big talker, but less keen to take actual initiative. Male lions are known for being less active than their pride members, with the female lions doing the hunting.

Although, you could argue that a lion is a natural leader. These qualities don't need to be exclusive though - why not be a leader and a layabout?

Besides that, there's pride and family and strength, but the less prominent placement of Ingrid's emblem tells me she'll be less fearsome than her classmates.

Cassidy Amber:

Cassidy's a little bit different from the others. Her animal motif doesn't have a specific portrayal of the animal (much like Wenona's and Ulysses'), and hers is repeated as a pattern - Cassidy wears tights with a spiderweb pattern.

Now, spiders are pretty well known for trapping things. It's kind of their whole deal. This gives Cassidy some serious mastermind vibes to me, especially when coupled with the fact that she's married to the content grind, loves games, and has a lot of money to throw around.

But anyway, the Bible just kind of complains about their webs being fragile, which could be interpreted as 'her fanbase isn't a true connection to others, they'll abandon her the second someone new catches their attention'. In reality, the Bible doesn't hold up for most of these, but like... it's interesting, right?

Spiders could be described as patient killers. They weave intricate webs for their victims and wait for the opportune moment to strike. Spiders are often feared, with arachnophobia being one of the most popular phobias. Cassidy herself is capable of projecting an unsettling aura and might be described as unnerving.

Fun fact: Red spiders specifically symbolise wealth, passion and excitement, which lines up pretty well with our pro-gamer.

In Conclusion:

I spent way too long making this.

Also, the Bible was pretty useless for most of these BUT the Bible reflects a lot of general perceptions (because it set quite a few of them), so it was sometimes interesting, I think, I'm tired, send help, goodnight!

(If you've made it this far, say hi or something, this took three hours and for what?)

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next(TBC)

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[bumblesimagines]

Second Chances

Request: Yes or No

Summary: While the life of nobles has many privileges, politics and alliances spare no feelings. Deals are often struck.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical HOTD/GoT warnings, labor and death, age gap mention, death of lucerys mentioned, emotionally stunted father alert, Aemond (subtly) being a lil shit

~~~

It was a stormy night amid summer when (Y/N) Baratheon came to the gripping realization he was a widow at the age of nine and ten. The ear-piercing wails of the newborn babe in his arms, freshly cleaned by the somber midwife, mixed with the familiar pelting of the rain.

He wasn't sure what to make of the sight in front of him. He wasn't sure what to make of the wailing bundle in his arms. There were a lot of things, he realized, he wasn't sure of.

His wife, Lady Elowen Tully, was laying in their marital bed in the beige nightgown she loved so much because of the floral designs on the hems. It was a gory sight. And (Y/N) couldn't look away. 

Her nightgown was soaked and partially sheer from a mixture of sweat, blood, and other birthing fluids he wasn't familiar with. The blood was most prominent. There was so much of it. It was everywhere; her gown, her thighs, their sheets, on the midwife and Maester Edrick, on the floor. 

Elowen had always been a girl of shorter structure. How did she have so much blood in her?

The baby was still crying. He hadn't really looked at it- at her yet. He couldn't. There was so much blood. 

He knew the moment Elowen woke him up in a frenzy that it'd be a hard labor. She'd been frantic, sputtering about the blood between her thighs because nobody ever mentioned blood when her mother and his own spoke to her of childbirth. He thought it would be a small complication. 

There was so much blood. 

He barely processed the door opening and shutting, its stupidly loud hinges squealing like a captured rat. He was too busy looking at his wife, too busy staring at the blood dripping onto the dark stone floor when the midwife covered Elowen's lower torso. 

"(Y/N)," His father's voice rumbled like thunder. A Baratheon trait. Their voices were loud and hard and meant to pierce through the thundering of the storms that were a constant presence over their home. "Look at me." 

(Y/N) looked down at his daughter instead. She made him nauseous. She looked like her mother. "It's a girl." He barely recognized his own voice from how quiet it was. Shaky. Not a Baratheon trait.

His father looked grim, uncertain. "I heard." He nodded, his voice tight. "You're young. You'll have a son eventually." 

Borros Baratheon wasn't known for his emotional intelligence. He was a warrior, a man to be reckoned with on and off the battlefield. He didn't cry or get excited. Always somber, always serious. 

(Y/N) wanted his mother. 

Clearing his throat, Maester Edrick shuffled closer. His clothes were still stained red but his hands dripped with water. "Does she have a name?" He asked carefully, his weary green eyes watching (Y/N)'s face. 

Elowen believed the name would come to her once she looked upon their child's face. She'd been gone before their daughter could begin screeching. 

"Uhm," (Y/N) raised his head and set his eyes on the vase on the nightstand. Elowen always kept flowers on her nightstand. "Azalea." 

"Lady Azalea Baratheon." Maester Edrick nodded. "That is a lovely name." 

The blood felt neverending. The stench was overwhelming. 

His daughter was still crying. Her face was scrunched up and her toothless mouth was open to release her constant shrieking without stopping for even a second to catch her breath. His arms moved slowly, tentatively, bouncing her like he'd seen his mother do with his youngest sister. Azalea's face was bright red, and finally, she stopped.. only to suck in a breath and start her insistent screeching again.

He felt compelled to shake her into silence, to get her to understand that her mother's corpse was a more pressing matter but he only cradled her further into his chest.

"Please be quiet." He exhaled into her small ear, and the soft skin of her head pressed into his neck. Her tiny hands freed themselves from the golden-colored cloth she'd been expertly wrapped in to clutch at his tunic. Her crying ceased, and he felt relieved for a fleeting second. 

Maester Edrick's pity was suffocating. "The silent sisters will tend to her with the utmost care, (Y/N)." He spoke softly, his voice almost coaxing.

(Y/N) didn't understand at first until he realized everyone in the room was still and staring at him. He swallowed and moved forward, past Maester Edrick and his grimacing face and past the midwife who bowed her head to cover the sorrow on her face. He stopped near the nightstand where the candle had long gone out and stared down at the woman he'd married when he was a month shy from six and ten. 

Someone, one of the servants or Maester Edwrick, had the kindness to shut her eyes. She almost looked as if she were sleeping, if it weren't for the crimson staining her skin and clothes. Most of the color had already drained from her face, leaving her once naturally flushed cheeks a ghostly pale color. He willed her to open her eyes, to gasp for air and return from the dead, but she remained limp on the bed. 

He hadn't realized he was trembling until he reached out to touch one of her light auburn strands, frizzy and wild from all the frantic tossing and squirming. He rubbed the string of hair between his fingers. Her hair was always soft and vibrant, so bright against the natural darkness of Storm's End. Everything about her was so, so bright.

"Her grandfather-"

"A raven will be sent to Riverrun right away, I assure you." Maester Edrick's sounded closer than he expected. He felt that familiar bony hand rest over his shoulder. "But right now, you and the babe must rest, My Lord. The wet nurse and I will watch over her throughout the night, I promise." 

He kept Azalea cradled to his chest. His last piece of Elowen. "No, she- she'll stay with me." 

"My Lord-"

"She'll stay with me." 

Azalea stirred in his arms. She was so small. How could she be so tiny, so fragile? She was wrinkly and looked more like a balding old man than the toddlers he was used to seeing. Cassandra liked to say all babies were ugly. She was half right.

(Y/N) couldn't stand to be in the room anymore and so he walked away from their marital bed, from their room. The strikes of lighting outside illuminated the dimly lit hallway and the rumbles of thunder vibrated through his body. 

Azalea hardly flinched. A true Baratheon.

He stepped into the darkness of one of their many guest bedchambers, empty; Storm's End was never on the top of anyone's list when they considered which castle to visit.

(Y/N) moved toward the bed and maneuvered his daughter onto one arm, using his hand to tug at the sheets and blankets until they formed an oval shape just the size of his little girl.

Gingerly, he placed her in the center and crawled into bed beside her. Azalea didn't stir. Her chest slowly rose and fell and her balled-up fist tightly clutched at the cloth wrapped around her. 

Sleep would be fleeting, he knew that well. She'd wake soon enough with demands and shrieks until the wet nurse arrived but he'd tolerate it. Tolerating things was what he was good at. 

(Y/N) stared at her for a little while longer. Nothing felt real.

He loved his parents. 

His father was Lord Borros Baratheon, a man of few words and many actions. He was a warrior, a glory-seeker, a man with a permanent scowl and a love for battle. His father placed a sword in his hand the moment he was strong enough to carry it and was certain he'd every bit of Baratheon.

His mother was Lady Elenda Caron. She was what every noblewoman was expected to be; poise, peaceful, honorable, duty-bound. She completed her tasks as mother and Lady of Storm's end diligently. She knew Storm's End better than her husband.

He was proud of his parents. He loved them. He wanted to shove them into the raging waters that surrounded Storm's End and be done with their puppeteering. 

(Y/N) hadn't looked at his mother since they departed from Storm's End. He kept his stare forward and focused on his three sisters, partly to keep an eye on Azalea who sat comfortably on Ellyn's lap and partly to remind himself of his missing sister.

Ever since the dreary night when Prince Lucerys lost his life in their waters, their mother never failed to remind Maris it'd been her words that'd sent Prince Aemond into a rage. Their mother detested the embarrassment it brought onto their family. 

Maris wasn't known for holding her tongue. She was witty and clever and never failed to speak her mind, regardless of the situation. She was meant for great things, but she was her father's daughter and her anger controlled her. 

Their mother decided the only thing that would teach Maris humility was joining the silent sisters. None of them had been thrilled at the idea. 

As for the irritation he felt for his father... 

Exactly two moons prior, a letter arrived at Storm's End from King's Landing; a proposal made by the ruling regent Prince Aemond. He'd left before they could decide which of the Four Storms he would marry, and to make up for his lack of answer, he offered a better betrothal:

One between Queen Dowager Alicent Hightower and the future Lord of Storm's End. 

His beloved Elowen Tully was dead. The moment the air fled from her lungs and the life drained from her body, he was an eligible bachelor back on the marriage mart. It was an offensive idea and one that everyone treaded on lightly around him. 

But his father believed three years was an adequate enough time for grief, never mind the fact his granddaughter couldn't even read fluently yet. 

It was useless protesting or arguing with a man like Borros, especially once his mind was set on something, and (Y/N) could only huff and grumble about it whilst his sisters celebrated the idea of joining the royal court. 

He watched the three of them lean toward the windows with excitement and anticipation while the carriage made its way up the road leading toward the Red Keep, their eyes big and wide. Ellyn held Azalea in her arms and pointed out things for the little girl to see. It was heartwarming to watch, but his bubbling annoyance made it hard to focus. 

"Heir and future Lord of Storm's End, (Y/N) Baratheon, his mother, Lady Elenda of Storm's End, and his daughter, Lady Azalea Baratheon." The herald's voice shouted into the quiet bustle of the courtyard. The gates shook while they slid shut behind the carriage. "And his sisters: Lady Cassandra Baratheon, Lady Ellyn Baratheon, and Lady Floris Baratheon." 

Cassandra immediately straightened the skirt of her golden dress, her palm pressing eagerly over the wrinkles while Floris combed her fingers through the raven waves resting over her shoulders until they were perfect. 

"A smile would not kill you." His mother muttered, fingertips gently prodding at her hairnet until it straightened. "It is not every day a man marries a queen." 

(Y/N) said nothing and took Azalea into his arms so Ellyn could tug at the sleeves of her dress. His daughter settled comfortably in his embrace and observed her aunts curiously, too young to understand their franticness in ensuring their appearances were nothing less than perfect.

Once the door to their carriage opened, (Y/N) held his breath and stepped out, his hold on his daughter tightening until his feet were firmly on the ground. Azalea grasped onto his collar with uncertainty and her lips jutted out into an uneasy pout. 

He couldn't blame her. He felt the same way. 

His mother and sisters shuffled out of the carriage after him, their giddy chatter swiftly ending with a single look from their mother. 

"Welcome to King's Landing," Prince Aemond's sharp voice sliced through the air, his long legs carrying him in strides toward them. He looked pleased with himself. "I hope the journey was not strenuous." 

(Y/N) was beginning to wish his father had accompanied them. 

"Your concern is most gracious, Your Grace." (Y/N) bowed his head and felt his adams apple bob with a swallow. His mother looked satisfied with his answer, and he sighed softly with relief. "We couldn't be more grateful for your consideration." 

Prince Aemond's smile was anything but comforting. "My mother will be returning from Baelor's Sept soon. She is a pious woman. I do not recall hearing of a sept in Storm's End." 

"We have a godswood." (Y/N) felt tempted to shrug but his mother inhaled sharply through her nose, so he added, "We can have one built for Her Grace." 

Prince Aemond nodded, satisfied with his answer. "Good, good. We can discuss more once you have settled in then, My Lord. Your belongings will be taken to your bedchambers; Ser Arving will escort you to them."

The Red Keep was, as expected, undeniably red, but only when the sunlight peeked through the grey clouds overhead. The massive walls encircling the castle reminded him of Storm's End, but that was where the similarities ended. 

He found no joy in following the knight through the dimly lit halls of the Keep. The air was thick and dreary, hardly what he expected from the Crown's home but his sisters appeared in awe of everything. 

"His Grace hopes to host the wedding soon, My Lord." Ser Arving told him, one large hand pulling on the doorknob to one of the bedchambers and nodding his head toward his sisters. 

"Soon?" (Y/N) repeated with a side step to avoid being trampled by the three when they hurried into the room with shouts of who it would belong to. Satisfaction made his lips quirk when he caught sight of his mother's flushed cheeks. 

Ser Arving nodded. "His Grace believes it is best to have the wedding before the battles continue. He wishes for a private affair, perhaps in the coming week." 

(Y/N) almost choked on his spit. 

"Week?" He managed, voice almost wheezy from a withheld cough. Azalea looked at him and her pout morphed into a deep frown. His hand gently patted her back until she relaxed again. "Surely, Her Grace would rather have a peaceful wedding once the fighting is over with." 

Ser Arving shrugged but had the decency to look understanding. "Her Grace hasn't spoken of the wedding, My Lord." 

(Y/N) had a feeling they had similar opinions on the marriage. Perhaps that meant he could convince her to speak with her son.

"I see." 

His sisters and mother were given apartments in the same hall, roughly the same size as their rooms back home but they all seemed effortlessly thrilled with them. Ellyn and Floris were always the easiest to please. He presumed Cassandra was just eager to emerge herself in the life of a courtier. 

Ser Arving led him further away from his family and a gnawing anxiety in his stomach grew. He wanted to be home in Storm's End with his father urging him to use their army in a fight against Rhaenyra Targaryen's men instead of the Vulture King in the Red Mountains.

Truthfully, the Baratheons cared little for which Targaryen sat the throne. Prince Aemond had simply struck the better deal between the two parties whilst Princess Rhaenyra relied on an oath taken by his late grandfather. Prince Lucerys never stood a chance against his uncle.

Ser Arving stopped before two tall sets of doors and murmured a greeting to the man standing by them. He was tall with tan skin, coal-black hair, and equally dark eyes. Dornish. His father would've scoffed at the very sight of him. 

"Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Criston Cole, My Lord." He introduced himself with a humble bow, strands of his hair falling over his forehead. (Y/N) caught the small, quick smile he sent Azalea and decided he liked the knight. "Her Grace returned from the Sept recently, My Lord. She awaits your arrival inside." 

Gods be damned. 

(Y/N) held back a sigh. "Thank you, Lord Commander." 

The doors groaned softly when opened and he reluctantly stepped inside the bedchambers, his hold on his daughter tightening when the doors shut behind him. He pressed a kiss to Azalea's temple and gingerly placed her on the floor so they could properly greet the Queen Dowager. 

"Your Grace," (Y/N) bowed his head and observed Azalea as she grabbed part of his pant leg into her fist and clumsily curtsied. Her big (E/C) eyes peered up at him expectantly and he nodded approvingly. 

When he finally looked at his would-be bride, he first noticed her auburn hair which looked so strikingly similar to Elowen's. Everything about her was similar to Elowen; her fair skin that looked slightly flushed, the way her hair curled, the auburn color that was just a shade darker, and her slim figure. 

Grief constricted his heart and he averted his eyes to stare at the table she'd been sitting at. Bronze bowls filled with raspberries and blueberries, small biscuits and cakes placed expertly on scalloped-shaped stands, and steaming cups of tea. 

"My Lord," Queen Alicent greeted softly, her voice and dark eyes melancholy. She looked tired, and weary, as if merely standing was a chore. "I would have welcomed you to King's Landing sooner but I was busy." 

"It's alright."

He had an inkling she would've busied herself with something else if she hadn't visited the sept. 

(Y/N) reached down to give Azalea his hand, his shoulders forming an awkward hunch as they approached the small rounded table. Queen Alicent scooped a pillow from the nearby couch and smoothed it out over one of the chairs for Azalea. 

"Hello." She greeted warmly, her eyes crinkling with the delight of someone fond of children. She had grandchildren, he recalled as he helped Azalea sit. Were they to become his grandchildren? "You can have whatever you desire, My Lady." Her words had a lightness to them.

Azalea blinked her big eyes at him. She was quiet. His mother claimed she inherited it from both him and Elowen. They'd been very awkward children, almost too shy to function on most days. 

He took a plate into his hand and scooped the berries onto it with a spoon before cutting a slice of one of the cream cakes. As expected, Azalea dug into the cake slice first, smearing her lips and big cheeks with white frosting but it only made Queen Alicent smile wider. There was something sad lingering in it.

"Most lords would rather keel over than take such care of their children." Queen Alicent said gently, her attention largely focused on Azalea. She folded a napkin over her finger and carefully wiped the frosting on Azalea's chin.

"She's my firstborn." (Y/N) muttered and wrapped his fingers around one warm cup, strong hints of mint assaulting his nose once he lifted it to his lips. "She's everything to me." 

Queen Alicent nodded, understanding yet her eyes glided elsewhere, almost distantly. She'd been young when she had her firstborn to King Viserys, younger than he and Elowen. Five and ten, he believed. The news spread quickly throughout Westeros, with many softly spoken questions of Rhaenyra and her status as heir. Two more sons later and she remained grasping onto it until Aegon was abruptly crowned. He pitied her, somewhat.

"You are not much older than Aegon. That is a fact that... unnerves me." Queen Alicent revealed gently and leaned back into her seat, looking ever more regal as she set her arms over the rests and gazed back at him. "The Realm may be tearing itself apart but there are still eligible young ladies. Lord Jasper Wylde has plenty of daughters, many of whom are still without husbands."

(Y/N) took a delicate sip of the tea, mindful as to not burn his tongue, and set the cup back down on the table. "If I may speak plainly, Your Grace?" He waited for her to nod, and then took a breath once she did. "I am grateful that House Baratheon meets the Crown's expectations, and that we were considered to begin with, but I do not wish to marry. I know I will be expected to father many children to continue House Baratheon's lineage but.. I am content as is right now."

Queen Alicent nodded again. "It is to my understanding that you still grieve your wife. I cannot fault you for that." 

"I appreciate it, Your Grace. Everyone has expected me to pretend as if Elowen wasn't everything to me once. I only ever wished for... for sympathy. For understanding."

"For someone to say how sorry they are for what happened to you." Queen Alicent's voice sounded strained whilst she spoke as if her chest was constricting from simply uttering those words. Her fingers curled inward and formed tight fists over the armrests when he nodded wordlessly. "I'm sorry for your tragic loss. It is not easy losing a loved one."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I'm sorry about.. everything." 

Queen Alicent let out a breathless chuckle and raised her hand to run her fingertips over the edge of her eyebrow. Her shoulders lowered the slightest bit and her gaze softened, a newfound warmth emitting from her. "Aemond claimed you'd be a good match for me. He said you'd care for me better than my late husband. I was doubtful, for young men are often arrogant and impatient, but fatherhood and loss seem to have matured you." 

"Your Grace?"

"You do not want a new wife; I do not want a new husband. I believe, perhaps, we can save each other from much more unfortunate fates. We can marry and not consummate the marriage. Once you are ready to move forward, our marriage can be set aside by the High Septon and we will both be free of duties others wish to thrust upon us for their own gain." 

"That is... clever."

"It is." Queen Alicent smiled. "What do you say?"

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 15 - Special Delivery

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: Death, use of weapons, violence, military inaccuracies. AN: I'm sorry but none of you are ready for the next part...

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

It feels like every time you walk into a room with them it’s more and more awkward. You feel like eyes are digging into you as you walk over to the table in the room and put the laptop down.

“Give me your boots.” Johnny says coming over to you. Before you even question him you’re already taking them off. “I’ll dry them by the radiators.” You nod, Gaz walks up to you as you open the laptop.

“Can you help her set up a keyword search or something?” Price asks.

“What are you looking for?” Gaz asks, pulling the laptop towards him. You look over at Ghost sticking a cloth into some part of a broken down weapon. 

“Here, type in what you want to search for.” He says turning the laptop back to you. 

“What should I search for?” You ask the room. 

“Try Makarov.” Price asks from the doorway. You type it into the search bar, you have no idea what Gaz has done or how he managed to get it working so quickly. In fact the search part seemed to take the longest. You pull a chair over and sit down clicking through each thing. 

“Just some emails, nothing really. They’re talking about the post being shut down.” 

“Try missiles.” Gaz says you nod typing it in if you try Arabic first and nothing comes up so you switch to Russian. There’s only one document, you open it and there's a list and pictures of missiles, at the end there’s a link. You click it and it opens to a video. 

It’s Makarov, he's talking about something, it looks like he’s in some kind of lab or something. He picks up a vial of something. Everyone but Ghost have moved over to the table now.

“What’s he saying?” Gaz asks. 

“He’s talking about a chemical. Those missiles in the garage they’re-” You stop continuing to listen to him. “Chemical bombs, he's using the missile casings to make chemical weapons.” 

“If those are empty shells outside, where are the insides?” Johnny asks.

“Probably with Al Qatala.” You say, the video finishes on a freeze frame of Makarovs face. You look up, Ghost has started putting the weapon back together now. 

“What kind of chemicals?” Price asks. You go back to the document turning it so Johnny can see, he scans over it for a few seconds. 

“That's like white phosphorus.” He says pointing at something. “This is some kind of gas.” 

“Like in Urzikstan?” Gaz asks.

“Like Urzikstan?” You ask.

“He had sarin gas. This is different though.” Johnny says you raise an eyebrow looking up at Price who has his arms crossed with a concerned look on his face. 

“What do we do now?” Gaz asks. 

“We send this to Laswell, let her start looking through it. Tomorrow when we follow them to Makarov we’ll know more.” Price says then moves away from the laptop. 

“I can keep looking.” You say moving the laptop back towards you. 

“Laswell’s programs are faster, besides we need to get some rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He says. You nod pushing the laptop back to Kyle.

…

Everyone wakes before the sun is up. You slept uncomfortably, not because you had no bed and you were basically sleeping on the hard floor. Because Johnny had the building so hot you woke up in a pool of sweat. At least your clothes are dry though, mostly. 

“Tea?” Johnny asks, passing you a plastic cup. You yawn taking it from him.

“Carry tea into a warzone with you all the time?” You ask.

“Cause, how would we function without it?” You look over at Gaz sitting next to you, you smile at him. 

“No time for a tea break. They could be here any minute.” Price says. You sip the tea anyway; it's sweet and milky not like the kind you’re used to. You get up going over to where all the gear is drying and pick up your vest. It’s still damp but it’s better than being sodden. 

You walk over to the window where Ghost and Price are standing. 

“When do you think they’ll be here?” You ask, tightening the vest. 

“Anytime now.” Ghost says.

“How are we going to follow them without being spotted?” You ask.

“We’ll take the car they left yesterday, if they do see us we’ll hope they think it’s one of them.” Price says. You don’t know if that will work but you trust him. 

“When we get there what's the plan?” You ask. 

“Haven’t got that far yet.” Price smiles and turns to look back into the room. You raise an eyebrow, Johnny comes up next to you throwing his arm over your shoulders. 

“Hey, wanna cozy up with me in the back of the car when we leave?” He says winking at you, you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re driving.” Price says smiling. Johnny’s arm leaves your shoulder as he starts to complain. You chuckle going back over to the window. 

“C’mon, help me pack. You two keep a lookout.” Price says walking past you. You lean up against the window, looking out at the garages. 

“So. What's with the mask?” You ask looking over at Ghost, he turns slightly and crosses his arms looking at you. He doesn’t answer, you frown at him. 

“I think it’s cute.” You tease. He scoffs going to look back out the window. “Are you shy or something? You don’t seem shy.” 

“I don’t like people knowing what I do.” He says. It’s not really a satisfying answer. 

“What, you don’t want people knowing you're military?” You ask. He just lets out a sigh.  

“I get it.” You say looking back out the window. “You want to keep work and home life separate. Do you have someone at home waiting for you?”

“No.” He says quickly. “Not anymore.” 

You don’t press him any further, it feels like you’ve hit a nerve. You’re not waiting much longer, the sun has only just started to break over the horizon when a truck pulls up to the gate. You all make it outside and climb into the car they hid round the back of the building. 

You all wait in silence hearing the garage doors open and close. Johnny doesn’t turn the engine of the car on until you all hear the distant click of the front gates slamming closed. By that point everyone is getting somewhat restless, you’re sat in the back between Ghost and Gaz. Price is in the front with the laptop on his knees. 

“Laswell thinks they might be heading to an old cold war base a few hours from the border of Kastovia.” Price says. “Satellite images have been promising and Russia has no troops in that region.”

“And they would have no reason to lie.” You say raising an eyebrow. You shrug when Price looks back at you. 

“Let’s move, we don’t want to lose them if we’re wrong.” He says gesturing for Johnny to drive. 

…

Price was right, they end up driving into what looks like an old cold war air base. Grass is peaking through the cracked concrete of the runway. The surrounding fence is rusted and collapsed in some places the buildings look rundown and barely functional but you all watch as one of the doors to one of the hangers open and the trucks drive in. 

Price orders Johnny to drive round to a forest about a kilometre away from the place and you all get out. 

“How can we be sure he’s there?” Gaz asks as he closes the boot of the car. 

“He’s there.” Price says confidently. 

“What about the others, The Butcher and Khaled?” You ask as you follow them through the trees. 

“No, they haven’t been spotted. This is a cold war era building though. Chances are there’s an underground tunnel system they’re hiding in.” Price says.

“That explains why we didn’t see many guards.” Ghost replies. 

“Right, besides I don’t think it’s going to be getting in that's the problem.” Price says. You let out a sigh, this feels too easy. It feels like you’re rushing, he’s in that building but like Price said there could be miles of tunnels hidden underneath. He could have a whole army in there just waiting. 

You follow them in silence listening to them talk strategies. The plan seems to be to go in as quietly as possible, cut the alarms, locate Makarov and take him out. Then confirm where the bombs and chemicals are so the US and Russia can come in and clear them up. 

It was a plan, not one you’re particularly happy with but it’s a plan nonetheless. 

“Gaz, Soap. You get in to see if you can find a maintenance room of some kind. Something we can use to tap into their systems.” He hands them the laptop. Gaz takes it then they start making their way down to the building. 

You’re all hidden behind something you think was once a barn but now there's a tree growing out of it and it's collapsed on one side. Ghost has binoculars looking around the place, the sun is out and the sky is clear which is way better than the thunderstorm from last night. 

“Place is quiet. I don’t like it.” Ghost says after a few seconds. 

“Makes our job easier.” Price says. You straighten up when you see the doors of the hanger open again. 

“Eye’s up Ghost.” 

“I see.” He replies. You squint trying to get a better look, you can’t see anything really from this distance, you wonder if Soap and Gaz are having any better look. 

“Shit. That’s Makarov.” Ghost says handing the binoculars over to Price. He brings them up to his eyes. You see a smile on his lips. 

“Got you now fucker.” You hear him whisper under his breath as he takes the binoculars down and hands them over to Ghost. 

“Update Soap and Gaz. I’ll get Laswell in the loop.” He says before turning to walk away. 

“Soap, Gaz. Makarov is heading into the main building.” 

“Copy.” You hear Gaz call back. “How’s our way in looking?”

“You’re clear. Watch yourselves.” 

“Always.” Soap replies. You turn behind you to see Price talking on a phone. You try to look for them but you can’t see them at all. You watch as Makarov makes it into the building with his entourage. 

“We’re in, making our way to the building now.” Gaz says. 

“Copy, watch your step, we have no intel you’re going in blind.”

“Copy, won’t be blind for long though.” Gaz whispers. You’re holding your breath, your palms have gone sweaty. You’re nervous, you want to be with them, helping them. What if they get hurt? They know what they’re doing, they’ve been trained for this. 

“How’re we looking?” Price asks as he comes back standing next to you. 

“We’re in, looking for a maintenance room.” Soap whispers as if on cue. 

“Good. Let us know when you have access then we’ll move.” Price says. It feels like you’re waiting forever, the seconds feel like minutes, you find yourself constantly checking your watch. 

“Nervous?” Price asks. You look over at him and smile. 

“Never.” He smiles back nodding his head.

“We’re in. Looks like Makarov is sitting pretty at the top of the ATC. Can you get a visual Ghost?” You all look up at the tower, you can’t see anything from here. 

“Copy. I see him.” Ghost says after a few seconds.

“We can override the security and lock him in there?” Gaz asks.

“Good, do it. Any signs of tunnels?” Price asks. 

“Nothing, everything seems to be above ground.” Gaz responds, you look over at Price. It feels too easy. 

“How many inside?” 

“A few dozen, 30. Maybe 40.” Soap says.

“Civilians?” 

“Negative.” 

“Stay put, we're coming to you.” Price says tapping Ghost on the shoulder.   

It doesn’t take you long to make it to the part of the wall Soap and Gaz made it though. Ghost and Price are faster than they are. More sure in their movements, they handle their weapons in a way you’ve never seen before, its second nature to them. You all slip through a side door and walk into a dimly lit corridor. 

“Were in.” Price says. You see Soap stick his head round a corner with his weapon drawn before lowering it. You all walk over to him seeing Gaz kneeled down next to the laptop hooked up to what you assume is some kind of server. 

“Gaz, stay here. Guide us, we’ll clear floor by floor. Make sure Makarov doesn't try anything. He’s not getting away this time.” Price says. Gaz nods and the rest of you make it out the room closing the door behind you. 

“Which way Gaz?” Price asks as you all stand there looking to him for direction. 

“Door to the left will take you through to the main entrance, then right through the double doors will take you into the mess.” Gaz says. “You’re looking at about 15-20 people.” You swallow hard. That’s a lot.

“Are you sure we can take that many people at once?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Soap chuckles and you feel embarrassed. 

“We’ve dealt with worse odds. Besides, we have an advantage.” Price says. You frown, shaking your head at him. 

“They don’t know we’re here.” Price says, clicking the safely off his weapon and turning to the left. 

He was right again. Surprising them was a big advantage. Gaz was good at calling out hazards too. You knew where they were before they could even find you. It felt clinical, maybe you’re used to it now, all the killing. It’s not hard when you’ve done it a few times. 

You don’t think about it, you just shoot, shoot them or they will shoot you. You don’t think about if they have a life outside of this. They’re the enemy, they’re making bombs and chemicals to hurt actual innocent people.  

“Mess and kitchen are clear. You’ve got people coming from the west side of the building.” Gaz says. You all get into position before the first few soldiers manage to get shots off. You have to duck under a table slipping on something and fall on your ass. 

You hear Soap chuckle coming over to you and grab your arm pulling you up. 

“Change your mag, I'll cover you.” He says. You nod, pulling the almost empty one out and pressing a new one in. The firing has stopped by the time you’re ready to fire again. You look over at the pile of bodies in the doorway. The room stinks of blood and gunpowder. 

You don’t think that is something you can ever get used to. 

“Looks like you’re clear.” The last few soldiers are with Makarov. I would hurry if I was you. I had to trigger a security lockdown so they couldn’t leave the ATC tower. He’s trying to override it. I don’t know how long you have.” Gaz explains. 

“Copy, we’re moving.” Price says already jogging out the room. When you make it back outside the building you see people coming out of the hangar towards you. 

“Go we’ll hold them off!” Soap shouts grabbing your arm to stop you. You nod at him and watch as Ghost and Price run off towards the ATC tower. You fire off shots with Soap, some are hitting, your adrenaline is pumping and your hands are sweaty. 

He grabs your arm pulling you to cover behind a roadblock. Now it’s your turn to cover him so he can reload. You look over the block and fire off shots trying your best to make them land. You can’t tell if you’re getting better or not. The last one falls as he gets back up. 

“C’mon let's catch up with the others. You watch our six, yeah?” You nod and follow him up the winding stairs of the tower. 

You hear an explosion. You both freeze for a second, your eyes meeting before you’re sprinting up the stairs. It takes the wind out of you sprinting up the steps trying to keep up with Soap. By the time you make it to the top you have to brace your hands on your knees and take in lungfuls of air. 

When you look back up Soap has gone, the doors to the control room are open. You walk in hearing voices. 

“You think you can stop us all Captain?” That has to be Makarov, his thick Russian accent cutting through the air. 

“Maybe not. But we’re going to give it a damn good try.” You hear Price say as a shot is fired. You make it round the control panel just in time to see his body flop to the ground. 

“Gaz, target down. Where’s the control room in this place?” Price asks as he turns, your eyes meet. There’s something different in them now, you quickly look back down at the body. His eyes look dark, focused. This was personal, you swallow hard, your throat feeling suddenly dry. 

“Main building second floor.” Gaz says. You’re already turning to move back down the stairs before them. You feel a shiver up your spine. They got Makarov, they’ve got the weapons, now all they need to do is get the Americans and Russians in here to clear the place out. 

It felt weird, like something had changed between you all. Well something had changed, they’ve completed their mission. You feel a shiver run up your spine remembering the cold look in Price’s eyes. 

It’s not even over yet Jamal and Khaled, they're both still out there, they’re both probably involved in continuing Makarovs work. He was right, they can’t stop them all.

You make it to the control room first Gaz is leaned over a laptop. The room looks out of place almost like they just slammed a concrete box down in the middle of the building, maybe they did. You had to walk through a set of metal sliding doors to get in. 

“Where are the others?” he asks looking over your shoulder, you turn to see no one following you.

“They must have got turned around.” You say. 

“I’ll go get them, stay here.” he says. You nod, swinging the weapon off your shoulder and putting it on one of the tables. You hear them before you see them, they must have not been that far behind. You walk over to the door to meet up with them. It slides shut and you step back for a second then step up again. Nothing changes, you frown looking up at the sensor waking your hand. 

You sigh, maybe it can only be opened from the other side, you can see them walk into the little room you can only describe as an airlock. This building really is as old as the cold war. When they make it to the door it doesn’t budge. 

They look at you confused. 

“I don’t know.” You say reaching over to press the red emergency open button, it doesn’t do anything. Suddenly you hear a hiss and a clank, they all turn watching the door behind them slide closed and lock. 

An alarm rings out. They look at Gaz who looks down at the laptop, you can see him furiously clicking on the keyboard.  

“The whole system’s gone into lockdown.” He says, you see panic on his face. Fuck. Price looks back at you. 

“Did you touch anything?” He asks. 

“No of course not!” You shout back defensively. Suddenly there’s another hissing, this wasn't like the one in their room. This one sounds different. You look up trying to place it. 

“What’s happening?” Price asks. You look round, it’s the vents, a few seconds later a thick smoke starts to seep out of them. It almost immediately makes you gag and cough. You bring your arm hand up to block your nose and mouth. 

You look back at Price, now you can see panic on his face. 

Fuck.

next

Banners by plum98

[parkersbliss]

Okay after the last request I am official kinda obsessed with the American! reader one shots! I was wondering if you could one where the boys learn that reader knew Graves somehow from back home? Like they find pictures of them together and reader is like “Oh that’s my ex!/friend” and we see the boys reaction? I love your writings sm!!🫶🏽🫶🏽

babe I am SO sorry for the wait. college was kicking my ass. but like oh my god I love this request. I love it so much I wrote 2,000 words! thank you so much!! xx

TO THE GRAVE(S)

PAIRING: task force 141 x female!american!reader WARNINGS: phillip graves, implied ex relationship with ghost / price, mentions of death and violence, frat boy graves thoughts A/N: I got SO carried away with some of the au's of reader and graves. sorry gang he's my baby girl

Masterlist | Taglist | Requesting (open for cod!)

Gaz:

The space you shared with Gaz was empty, to say the least. You had recently moved in, so it made sense. You couldn’t stand it. You had been sitting for hours with your boyfriend on the couch, ordering various pieces of furniture. You were lucky you even had a bed. 

Thus was the process of moving in, especially with a sergeant who had to try and time it for when he was home. You wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. 

Sure, the space was blank, a few things from your previous place, but nothing that screamed The Garrick’s (or soon to be). 

This leads you to sit on the couch you took from Kyle’s, box in your hand as you search for some photos to frame and hang up. Something to signify people lived here. 

Kyle is sitting next to you, arm slung over your shoulder as he continues browsing for furniture. He listens to you talk when you find a photo that triggers a memory, loving the excited gleam in your eye as you talk about your high school days. 

That was until you pulled out a certain photo. 

He nearly does a double take as you hold it up, head tilting to the side as you examine it. “Who’s that?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible. You could hear the strain in his voice though and raise a brow. You turn back to the photo of you and Phillip side by side, leaning against each other and flashing a four on your fingers like some frat boys. 

“Phillip,” You said. “He was a good friend.” 

“Was he?” Kyle snorts, unable to hide the obvious disdain for the man. How dare someone as vile, putrid, and untrustworthy as he ever lay hands on his girl. You, his sweet, beautiful girlfriend. 

You roll your eyes, setting the photo on the table. “He was just a friend, babe. Seriously. I only knew him because I was sophomore class president, and he was senior.”

Kyle grabs the photo from the table. “You look a little more than friends.”

“I have actual exes, you know.” 

“None as bad as him.” 

You furrow your brows, plucking the photo from his hands. “You don’t even know him. He was smart, funny, charis—” 

“Okay!” Kyle huffs, cutting you off and you blink in surprise. He was never this harsh with you, and certainly not over things in the past. 

“What is this about?” 

Kyle sighs, leaning back on the sofa with crossed arms. He tried to keep you out of his work life. Hidden away in your flat in London, a quiet corner of the world where he was Kyle and not Gaz. Knowing Graves had experienced some semblance of the peace you brought irked him. It shouldn’t bother him, because, like you said, it was a while ago. Still, the burn from his betrayal is charred. 

“You remember that day I called you panicking over Soap and Ghost?” He asked. “They were in Mexico.” 

“Yeah.” 

“They were being hunted by an opposing military team,” He starts, gently grabbing your hand. “Shadow company.” He can see the confusion in your eyes. The wariness as you’re unsure where he’s going with this. “Graves runs that company.” 

There’s a heavy beat of silence. You weren’t really attached to him. Again, just class presidency stuff. You would’ve probably never thought about him again if you hadn’t seen the photo. “You know,” You finally said, voice bouncing off the empty walls. “I always did think he was a little power crazy.” 

Kyle nearly cries in relief, grabbing you in his arms as he buries his face in your neck, and you giggle. “You have no idea.” 

Ghost:

Simon prided himself on being a good partner to you. His entire existence was tethered to you and the smile on your face. He did his best to make sure it stayed there. He was always gentle with you when he was upset, never yelling. There was a certain softness you brought out in him, and he adored it. Now, Simon was still a jealous man. He hated to see others looking at you with nothing but lust in their eyes. But when you would turn around to face him, eyes brimming with love only for him, it didn’t matter. 

Except for this time. 

You’re lying in bed with him, flipping through your yearbook from high school. Your friend had texted you earlier in the day about how one of your old friends had just had a baby with someone you least expected. Thus prompting you to scour the yearbook for this “guy.” And then you just fell down the rabbit hole of past memories. 

You’re tucked into Simon’s side, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and head leaning against yours as you point out various pictures. 

His breath halts when your finger traces over a certain one, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips. 

He would recognize the face of Graves anywhere. Even if it was your yearbook from a youth spent in the South. What are the odds? 

Simon’s free hand balls into a fist as he takes in the photo and its implications. Graves is in a football uniform, giant 01 on his jersey. He’s younger, with no stubble or scar on his cheek but otherwise the same cocky smile. The same one Simon had mistaken as friendship and later realized it was all deception. Grave’s has got you sitting on his shoulder, bright smile and arm raised with a pom-pom as you cheer. 

“That’s Phillip,” You said. Of course, when you talked about your ex Phillip, you meant that Phillip. 

Simon clicks his tongue in response, voice gruff. “You look happy.” 

You sigh, moving the yearbook to rest on the bed. “I was.” 

Simon’s calm on the outside, but truly, he was a tea kettle boiling over. Every glance at that damned photo sent him a little more towards the edge. He had wanted to throttle Graves not so long ago, and now? It was worse knowing he was that Phillip. The ex that left you torn apart. 

“He was good for a while,” You admit. “It was all rainbows and unicorns. He was the kind of player that runs up and kisses you after a touchdown.” Simon’s lip twitches. “Then he left for the Marines, and he was never the same.” You lean more into Simon, unaware of the rage churning inside him. “I think the war changed him, Si. He was so angry after and I realized he just wasn’t the same.” 

Should he tell you? The man that broke your heart was, in fact, also his enemy? That they’d come face to face, and Soap had killed him? That war had changed Phillip into a power-crazy, lap dog, sociopath? 

“I just hope wherever he is now, he’s okay.”

Well, that settles it. Simon watches as you close your yearbook, still frowning, and he knows telling you would be worse. 

“I’m sure he is,” Simon said, squeezing your shoulder. “I’m sure he got everything he ever wanted.” There’s a double meaning there, but you don’t catch it. You have no idea that your ex has been presumed dead. Ironically, Simon doesn’t know he’s alive. 

You kiss your boyfriend on the cheek. “I’m always so grateful you come from deployment the same. You’re too good to me.” 

That’s simply not true. Simon could always be a better man — for you. His hand cups your face, and he places a kiss on your lips. 

Soap:

Johnny’s hands shake as he holds his phone. There was no way, no fucking way he was seeing this right. He’d been putting off a visit to the eye doctor for a while, but it couldn’t be this bad. He must be imagining things. Otherwise, how else do you explain that his girlfriend is clearly posing in a photo with his mortal enemy? 

He had lost it. The head injuries had finally caught up with him. 

He repeats that like a mantra even after he zooms in and out on the Instagram post and stalks your best friend's page for clues. 

Cue Johnny’s with about an inch of space between his sight and the phone when you walk in. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, and you’re leaning against the doorframe, brow raised. “Whatcha got there, bubs?” 

Johnny’s head snaps in your direction, phone slamming down on the table. “What?” His accent is thick. 

“What’s on your phone?” You walk over towards him, plucking the device out of his hand and examining the photo of you, your best friend, and Phillip. It must be some school event because all three of you are in blue tutus, green and blue face paint, and more accessories of the same color. “Oh my god,” You laugh. “I haven’t seen this photo in years.” 

Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why—,” He coughs. “What is it?” 

“It was our homecoming game,” You said, still looking over the photo fondly. “The student section where we stood had like leaders that would direct chants and stuff. Phillip was one, and this was his last game doing it so we went all out.”

You said it so casually. The name of the man who had put his head on a bounty. He wasn’t mad at you, of course. Clearly, this was a time before the present Graves. Still, the coincidence — the idea — irked him. He never told you about Mexico. Johnny didn’t want to worry you about it. Besides, when he was home, he’d rather listen to you talk about happier things. And Graves was dead now. 

“Haven’t seen him in years, though. He’s some CEO now of a private company. Jenna doesn’t really talk to him much anymore. Says he’s like really busy.” 

“Jenna?” Johnny questioned, referring to your best friend. “She’s still… in contact?” 

You give him a funny look, setting the phone down on the table. “Yeah? It’s her brother, after all.”

Johnny’s eyes doubled in size, spluttering. “What? That’s Jenna’s brother?” He was aware your best friend had a brother, older, a good friend of yours. But he never gave it much thought than that. She was married, so her last name had changed. If that was the case… she couldn’t be in contact with him. He was dead. Johnny would know. He killed him. “Bloody fucking hell, babe,” Johnny mumbles. 

“What’s going on?”

Johnny shakes his head. “She doesn’t know what he does?” 

“I don’t know! He doesn’t talk about his work. Who cares?”

Your boyfriend grabs your hands, pulling you into the seat across from him. “When was the last time she talked to him?” 

“What is happening?” 

“Love.” 

You’ve never seen your boyfriend look so panicked. Sweat was beading on his forehead, hands shaking in yours, and his accent much harder to understand. “The holidays.” 

“Fuck!” He drops your hands, standing up and running a hand through his mohawk. He wasn’t dead. 

“Can you just tell—” 

“Phillip Graves owns a private military company that tried to kill me in Mexico.” 

Silence as you stand there dumbfounded. Your best friend's brother was… he was bad. 

You eventually approach your boyfriend, grabbing the hand that was running through his hair. “I didn’t know.” 

Johnny embraces you tightly, pushing your head into his chest. “I’m not mad at you, love. Just got some unfinished business now.” 

He kisses your forehead, swaying you side to side, a plan forming deep in his cortex. One to kill him once and for all. 

Price:

There was a reason John Price was called a captain. He was a natural leader, someone who commanded the attention of those around him. Still, that wasn’t enough to warrant running his own team. To be responsible for others' lives took more skills. He was a good decision-maker under pressure. He could control his emotions better than others. He wasn’t rash when it came to the lives of others. That’s what made him a good leader. 

It’s also what made him a great husband. He was a gentle giant with you. Every decision you make, from the color of the walls to the couch in your living room, was made with thorough consideration. 

It’s what you loved most about John. Being around him made you calm. You can't even think about a moment in your relationship when you’d seen him harsh and yelling.

You were both sitting on the couch, some sports game playing on the TV in the back. You’re leaning against him, flipping through a photo book. You had gotten a few prints back from your wedding photographer and had filled them into your wedding book and then got distracted but the others. You and John were sentimental people, and you took it upon yourself to create memory books to show your kids one day. 

John hadn’t really seen yours since they ended up getting made by you and stuck on a shelf. So, here you were, lecturing him on all the years of your life he hasn’t been present. Truthfully, he knew most of the stories, but he enjoyed listening to you talk and the small facts you’d sneak in. 

“And then we lost this meet horribly. I think Layla got injured and went out.” You flip the page, various photos of you and your teammates on the mat. 

John hums, leaning over you to look at the photos. “That must suck.” 

You shake your head. “Depends if you got the cute athletic trainee that day or not. I think a lot of girls faked injuries to see him.” 

Your husband laughs, a deep rumble you feel next to him. “You got a picture?” 

You flip through a couple pages until you find him. You snort at the photo. You’re sat on the floor of the gym, leg extended and bandaged from whatever injury you had sustained. A young boy is next to you, kneeling with his arms wrapped around your upper half and leaning his head against yours. John’s brow twitches slightly as he sees the widesmile on your face, and small hands clasping the arm of your… ex. 

What’s even more concerning is the recognition brewing in the back of his head. He uses a hand to gesture for you to hand him the book. You do, and he holds it up to his eyes, scanning for why this guy was so familiar. Ashy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and a grin that he wants to wipe off. It’s only when he catches a glimpse of the name on the upper corner of his jacket does it hits him. 

“Graves.” 

“How’d you know his name?” You asked with surprise. 

“Saw it on the jacket,” John answered with ease. His fingers itch to rip the photo to shreds. 

You hum, sliding the book back from him. “He was really popular. Took the athletic training class for fun his senior year and then had to do the internships at games.” 

John huffs. “You dated?” 

You shrug, offering no real sort of attachment to him. “Sort of. Was more like a few weeks, couple games, Valentine’s Day.” 

“Seems like a good lad.” 

“I guess. There was something kind of off about him, though. But everyone at school loved him.” 

John quirks a brow at that, pressing his head to yours as he glances at the photo again. “What do you think he’s up to now?”

You tap your chin in thought, pushing the book to the side. “Probably some power-crazy CEO.” 

John laughs, threading a hand through your hair. If only you knew. He wouldn’t tell you. He saw you didn’t really care for him. Probably hasn’t thought about him in years. Your husband plans to do the same. “I bet he is.” 

--

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[cosmicjoke]

I saw @acmeangel's analysis post on this scene, which is fantastic and which everyone should read, and I was going to add my thoughts to their post, but then it got too long (as usual), and I didn't want to hijack their analysis, so I decided to just make my own, haha. This really is an important scene which essentially encapsulates the difference between Levi and Erwin and which I think ultimately showcases what makes Levi such a genuine hero.

One of the overarching messages of AoT is that we shouldn't give up our humanity in pursuit of an ideological goal. I've talked a lot about how Levi puts his trust in Erwin and admires him so much because he sees Erwin's ability to set aside his personal feelings for the greater good as a virtuous quality, one which Levi hopes to be able to one day emulate. Levi sees Erwin as superior to himself for this ability, because Levi, no matter how hard he tries, isn't ever able to do the same. He's never able to set emotion aside. He's never able to make decisions detached from emotion. He's never able to send soldiers to their deaths without it tearing him apart and creating in him a sense of conflict. He's never quite able to convince himself that the thing these soldiers are dying for, which they choose to die for, is actually worth it, which is also why he works so hard to bring their goal to fruition. He can't accept that those lives were given in vain, but the only way to ensure that they weren't is to make their dream comes true. Because to Levi, it's their lives that have value, not the cause itself.

One of Levi's most defining traits, one which makes him stand out from basically every other character in the story, is that he has no dream of his own. Rather, he carries the dreams of others, makes himself the custodian of those dreams, and dedicates himself to their realization.

When he says in this scene that a pointless death doesn't suit anyone, what he's saying is that the cause Erwin is sacrificing soldiers for has to prove itself worthy of their lives, that it has to amount to something equal in value to those lives. Because that's the thing, Levi values life above all else. He sees each, individual life as being as important as the whole of humanity, and I think that aspect of Levi's character is demonstrated fully during the RtS arc, when he makes the choice to end Erwin's suffering. People argue and claim that Levi made the wrong choice here because they don't understand the thematic significance of it, getting caught up in speculation about whether Erwin would have been able to prevent the war between Paradis and Marley, whether Erwin would have been able to stop the Rumbling, etc... By getting caught up in that, they completely miss the point of how the story wants the audience to understand the importance of not giving up our humanity for any cause. It's trying to show us, through Levi's choice, why we can't let any cause or ideological movement turn us cruel. Levi's refusal to be cruel, his refusal to throw away his humanity, is meant to be seen as a good thing, and ultimately, ironically, it's Levi's humanity and compassion that makes him a superior man to Erwin.

Erwin tries to assuage his own guilt by telling himself that the lives given were for a cause greater than any, individual life. The cause of humanity. This is a narrative he clings to until he's forced to admit to himself that what he really was after in sending all these soldiers to their deaths was his personal pursuit of knowledge, in another attempt to assuage his guilt for the death of his father. Erwin sacrifices his humanity for a goal which is self-serving, and as he's forced to contend with that reality, his guilt grows tenfold, fracturing his psyche and self-identity. But even if his every decision had been for the so-called greater good, even if he'd been 100% dedicated to his duty as Commander, he still would have been left with a sense of guilt and self-loathing for sacrificing lives to this nebulous cause, just like Hange ultimately was, because the whole point of the contrast between Levi and Erwin is to show that, in the end, Levi is the one whom the audience should strive to emulate, not Erwin.

This moment in the story is driving home the point of choosing compassion over ideology, or even duty. Levi's choice is imperative in demonstrating to us that if we sacrifice our own, personal humanity, if we give into becoming cruel and unfeeling, if we lose sight of the very thing that drove us to wanting the world to be a better place to begin with, that being our compassion and desire to end the suffering of others, no matter how justified the cause may seem, we're essentially sacrificing humanity itself. Because it's when you start becoming cruel, for any cause, that everything turns to shit, both for ourselves and the world around us. It's cruelty that leads into justification of more cruelty, which leads into justification of atrocities. Bringing Erwin back, forcing him back into that role which was tearing him apart, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, would have been purely an act of cruelty. But Levi isn't a cruel man. He's exactly the opposite. He's a man defined by his compassion and kindness. And what is AoT advocating for if not greater compassion and kindness in the face of a cruel world? It's telling us that the kind of compassion that Levi showed to Erwin in his dying moments is how we should choose to fight against the world's injustices and cruelties.

Because all the bad things that happen in AoT, essentially, happen because of a willingness to sacrifice ones humanity for ideology or for personal, selfish desires, and because it's those of us who retain our humanity and compassion, despite the cruelty of the world, and despite any supposed duty to any professed cause, that end up being able to live, as Levi says, with no regrets. This idea of sacrificing what we know is right for some abstract, nebulous goal of a better tomorrow is what leads to the destruction and corruption of our inner selves, and that, ironically, makes a better tomorrow impossible. If we become corrupted, if we allow ourselves to be lost to this idea of the greater good, in the end, it will only continue on the cycle of destruction.

Levi never sacrifices what he believes is right, never acts in any way which goes against his conscience. He never betrays his humanity. He maintains his compassion from beginning to end, and he never wavers in what he's fighting for, which, again, is every, individual life. That's what makes Levi a hero. His inability and refusal to set his personal feelings aside is, in the end, meant to be seen as the correct course. Because Levi's personal feelings have nothing to do with a dream or a goal. They have nothing to do with an ideology or movement. They aren't rooted in self-gain or greed. His sense of duty isn't to a cause, not to a country or an empire, or a sense of retribution or revenge. His duty, his obligation, is to doing what he feels, in his heart, is the right thing, what his personal feelings tell him is the right thing, no matter the situation or circumstances, no matter, even, if it turns out to have been the right choice or not. And that ties back into Levi's extraordinary compassion and empathy. It's his compassion and empathy which dictate his personal feelings of right and wrong, and his dedication to not betraying that sense is what ultimately dictates all his choices.

Levi thought of himself as a lesser man than Erwin because of this. Because of the way he wasn't able to set his personal feelings aside in the choices he made. It's why he chose to follow Erwin, because he thought it made Erwin superior to himself. But in truth, it's that quality of Levi's, that deep seated empathy, that makes him the better man. He can't detach himself from his compassion, he can't make choices without considering the consequences and impact of those choices on others, or even without making that consideration the principle factor in his choices, and that's a good thing. That's humanity. That's what makes the world a better place. By caring about how our choices affect others. That's not meant to be seen as a bad thing. Levi's kindness and empathy isn't meant to be seen as wrong.

Levi never betrays who he is, and he never betrays what he believes in, even as everyone around him does, at one point or another. That's true strength, that's true courage, that's true heroism. Someone who cares so much about people that he can't make a choice without factoring in the thoughts, feelings and desires of those people. Levi is meant to be the audience's role model, the character we're meant to want to be more like. Not Erwin. Because no matter how noble the goal we pursue, if we stop caring about each other in that pursuit, it all becomes for naught.

[mistymisfit]

How they met

summary: When Poison Ivy takes Gotham's central park hostage reader gets stuck with Red Hood and accidentally saves him.

warnings: mentions of reader being shorter than Jason, reader uses glasses, mentions of reader wearing a skirt, smoking, and this.

wc: 3,8k

It was just a matter of time of living in Gotham until you got stuck on a situation like this. You have to have the worst luck in the city because, on the day you finally give in and agree to dog-sit for a friend, Poison Ivy decides to show up when you take her on a walk. Of course, the dog was no idiot and ran away a while ago at the first sight of danger, so now you were stuck here in Gotham's central park. You have to admit you're not as scared as you should be, however you were getting mildly annoyed at hanging upside down with a vine holding you by your ankles. At least you could be glad it wasn't the joker.

It was a common topic of conversations late at night with your friends when you seem to run out of things to discuss, debating which Gotham rouge attack you could survive as a hostage. This topic was only second to "Which vigilante would you rather have to save you?", that one allowed for more rambling over who you thought was hottest. Still, no pointless drunk debate could prepare you for when it actually happened.

"Hey, excuse me, miss" You said when you watched her walk past and she stopped almost amused that you'd dare to speak to her "I understand that you're part plant, right?"

"That'd be correct" She paid close attention to you, she was intrigued by the fact that the effects of her "sleeping pollen" worn off fast unlike the other hostages next to you. You were supposed to be passed out for around 5 hours more, after all her pheromones never failed.

"Yeah, so, the rest of us are human" You tried to be as polite as you could so she wouldn't crush you to death "So could you please put us down, I'm getting a headache from having my head upside down"

She didn't say anything but agreed, the vines gently leaving you and the others on the grass before quickly wrapping you again. As you felt less and less dizzy, you could pay more attention to your surroundings. The concrete trail was shattered, plants breaking it from growing over it, the closest bench was split in half, and a water fountain was removed from the ground, water leaking from where it used to be. Though your vision is blurry since you lost your glasses from hanging upside down, you can still tell that next to you were the mother and daughter you saw seconds before it all went down. The mother chased after her daughter, demanding her to not go that far away from her. Then your friend's dog, the king Charles spaniel you only agreed to take care of because she was cute, ran away and you went after her. Next thing you know, a vine wraps around you and you're hanging from your ankles, no dog in sight. When did all of this happen? And how in broad daylight?

You heard a cracking noise and thought, "oh, no, were those my glasses?". Your head turned to see ruthless vigilante Red Hood picking up your glasses from the floor, or at least you think that is what he's picking up. It sounded much like broken glass. He could tell by the disappointment on your face that they were yours, so he quickly moved in silence getting closer to you.

"Sorry" He whispered, cleaning them up a little bit with against his red vest. He gently put them back on your face, and you nearly blushed at his hands brushing against your face.

"It's okay," You lied. You couldn't be mad at him for it, but you could dwell on how expensive it would be to fix them.

"I'll get you out of here." He promised, his voice was still low, not knowing if she was close enough to hear him. He started cutting through the vines to set you free.

"Sure" If you could've shrugged, you would have.

"Sure?" He repeated, offended. He wasn't expecting you to be overcome by joy by seeing him there, he's realistic, but you could show more gratitude. Even if he crushed your glasses.

"Or you could leave me here to die," You deadpanned, you must've been in this city for too long if this wasn't fazing you "so I don't have to turn in that essay on Monday"

"I won't," He quips back, finally breaking through and helping you throw the plants from you.

"Well, at least you're not a cop"

"Good to know I'm a step above them" He was beginning to wonder when was the last time he met a hostage so talkative as he worked cutting the vines that held the little girl captive. She lumped forward, still unconscious as you caught her, holding her until he could free her mom.

"Several steps, really" You corrected "You won't remember them, but you rescued my neighbors' daughter after she went missing for four months"

"Who? Zoey?" You were both surprised, you over the fact that he could recall her name, and him that you knew that. Those kinds of stories never made the news, or if they did, they never mentioned him if it was going to paint him in a good light. "How's she doing?"

"Yeah, she's better now"

Once he managed to cut through the last vine, he picked her up like it was nothing. You looked away trying to push down how attractive you found that. He guided you, signaling to stay quiet on what you hoped would be a way out of the dome she had created. And just when you thought you're out of trouble, a plant wrapped once more around your leg, dragging you and Red Hood back in. As twigs and being dragged through the floor scratched your arms and your face, you couldn't help but think, Why me? and that at least in that rough motion you dropped the girl, and the paramedics running your way would take her and the other woman.

This time, she was not as merciful, a thicker and stronger vine entrapped you both together with your back pressed against his chest. He tried putting his arms in front of you to stop the vine from getting tighter around you, but you're quicker than him in realizing what could happen.

"Stop, stop," you swatted his forearm lightly to get his attention; "it'll break your arms"

You were surprised to see him listen, and he put his arms back to his sides. You could tell he was trying to be as respectful as he could in this situation, trying to avoid touching you even if your butt was pressed impossibly close to him.

"Hood?" You asked nervously, feeling something pressed against you. "That is a gun, right?"

"I'm flattered, sweetheart." He chuckled, "It's a 9 millimeter, but don't worry safety's on"

"Uh-huh" You acknowledged his response, more worried about not panicking at the thought of being squeezed to death. It didn't occur to you earlier that you might die today. Well, it did, you just didn't have to accept it until then. In your desperation you tried wriggling your arms out, at least to get some room to breathe. The binding plant was right above your waist, constricting your lungs.

"Stop squirming like that."

"Sorry, I-"You gasped, on the verge of tears "god, what if I die? My friends won't have anything to say at my funeral"

"Hey, take a deep breath." You felt his hands on your hips, his thumb gently tracing circles on your back as the rest of his hand kept you in place, grounding you. It was comforting; he was trying to make you feel better, and you appreciated the thought. He leaned down his head until his forehead rested on top of your head "You are not dying, okay?"

"Okay," you repeated, your voice weak but less panicked.

"Besides, if we're having a bad funeral competition, I'd beat you for sure" He joked, trying to distract you "What were you doing here?"

"I uhm, I was walking my friend's dog, she's out of town for her sister's wedding"

"What's it called?"

"Anne Boneyn" Your response was met with a full belly laugh from him, it's almost contagious as you had to push your lips together and hold back a smile to avoid joining him.

"I'm sorry, whose idea was it?"

"Mine," you blushed, "only because she named my cat Joan D'cat"

He laughed again, and if you weren't scared for your life, you wouldn't have known how to feel about him so close to you.

"Wait until you hear about my other friend's turtle, Mary Shelley" You added inciting his laugh once more. It was a bit of a contradiction to see a man you know for a fact has killed many people before laughing this much over bad puns, but you felt flustered and a little proud that you were able to do that.

"I'll tell you something; when we get out of this, I'll help you find Anne, hopefully with her head still attached," He offered.

"Hey" You laughed "that's not helping "

As your laughs died down and you were reminded of his hands still on you, you started to wonder if Red Hood was single, you'd kill him if he was your boyfriend and found out he had a moment like this with another girl. You have to stop yourself from getting even more delusional, this was probably a random Thursday for him, and you had no reason to feel bad or even jealous of an hypothetical girlfriend. You brushed off how he made you feel, attributing it to either the adrenaline of the moment or the fact that he's quite attractive and you haven't had any contact with a guy in a while. You really couldn't help but grow a little crush on him when he's so reassuring, telling you that you'll be okay

Then you hear steps, both of you suddenly going quiet. You could see some plants moving, but not her or any other vigilante, though the latter would surprise you more since you heard Red Hood usually works on his own, and you've seen a few news articles of him and Batman beating the shit out of each other.

"We're far from Crime Alley, Red Hood" You could finally make out where she was through a cracked lens, was she always that green? or was her skin changing?

"I just happened to be in the neighborhood" He replied before whispering:"Try to distract her"

She made a face of what you could only describe as disdain, and she was about to leave when he nudged you to get her attention. If you could turn back, you would've shoot him an exasperated "what the fuck do you want me to do?" look. You grunted from the vine getting tighter and decided to do as he said.

"Can I ask you something?" You rolled your eyes at what you said, anyone with a quick wit would've told you that you already had. "Why the whole display of power in the middle of the city?"

"Why?"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong, I agree with the whole men are killing the planet thing" You took a deep breath and she noticed, loosening a bit the vines so you could talk "But why the park? It's the only place people in this city get to see some green... besides the botanical gardens, but we are right next to them."

"Are you saying I'm wrong?"

"No I-uhm, I'm just saying you got the target wrong" You quickly added before you made it worse "You know it's not the average person that's killing nature?"

"It's men's greed that is killing the planet"

"Still, in a shorter run, you'll get better results if you aim higher," You reasoned "You should go after the factory outside the city that's been polluting the water, or the biggest oil company you can find, or-"

"Hm," You were both surprised to see her actually think about it "I suppose I could try"

What? You were just rambling, trying to buy time for whatever plan Red Hood's got. You were not expecting her to take your suggestions seriously, and neither was him when he whispered a "what the fuck?" under his breath. Once she starts walking away and turns your back to you two you quickly move your head, shooting him a look that asks the very same question he had.

"And don't even try following me," she warned, you knew that was for the vigilante behind you. You were not going anywhere that isn't your own bedroom after this "my plants will let you go in half an hour"

You were at a loss for what to do for all that time stuck there, hopefully you could free yourselves faster. Though you wouldn't mind spending the time with him. You mentally scolded yourself for thinking like that, you needed to stop being so delusional. Lucky for you, he did have a plan, so as soon as the grip lessened up, he was able to get his arms out and cut off the vines.

"Are you going after her?"

"Nah, sounds more like the bat's problem to me" He shrugged, " 'sides I promised to help you find Anne"

He kept up that promise, he helped you call out and look for your friend's dog until you found her—alive and with her head still on her neck. You figured it took you around the same time you would've been trapped had he not cut you off earlier. Saying goodbye to him was surprisingly awkward, as if he didn't want to leave either. At least until he noticed a few police officers, then he really made a run for it, but not without waving as he left.

He nagged himself for that, letting his guard down that fast when a pretty girl was nice to him. Then reprimanded himself even more when the urge to find you got too intense and ended up investigating you. And felt equal parts, bad for watching you and relieved to find out you didn't have a boyfriend. Told himself it was for your safety when he made sure you got home safe late at night, and convinced himself he was doing you a favor when he fed your cat on the balcony when you were out or sleeping.

"Fuck," Is all that left your lips when he fell on the floor. Where did he even come from? You were looking at the city lights, distracted, when you heard someone stumbling and grunting.

When you turned to see the very same vigilante who you met a few weeks ago, saying you were shocked fell short. It's rare that you ran into him once, but twice? That's got to be luck-- or its opposite. His muzzle was shattered, God knows where the rest of the pieces fell, he was also covered in blood and holding his side as he tried to sit up. You managed to move amidst the initial surprise, and leave your cigarette on the ashtray to help him up.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, guiding his back to rest against the wall.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," He repeated, as if he was not only trying to convince you but also himself, "It isn't my blood"

"You sure?" The way your hands lingered on his form did not go unnoticed, not that he minded at all.

"I'm just bruised," He explained before looking up. Of course, he'd end up at your building, and just by chance, you happened to hang out on your rooftop. "It's you again"

"Yeah, It's me" You held back a smile, he remembers you? You'd thought by now your face would've phased out of his memories, mixed along with the other people he must have helped.

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here-"You rolled your eyes, avoiding the real reason to be at a rooftop at 4 am. You could tell his eyes lingered on yours even under the mask before he looked up and saw the ashtray on the ledge. With renewed energy he got up, still using the wall to help himself. "Wait!"

He raised an eyebrow, and before he could make any witty comment, you beat him to it.

"I only do it when I'm stressed, okay? Not that I owe you any explanation"

"I get it," He sighed, reaching out for the pack and getting one out of the little box "You mind?"

You shook your head no, handing him your lighter. You watched him drop the broken muzzle and take the first drag with so much attention you had to tell yourself to stop being so awkward. You flicked the ashes off your own before your eyes went back to him. Jesus, what a fucking jawline, and now you couldn't stop looking at his lips. He was going to think you were weird if he caught you staring like this, or at least you thought that. Not that you would know he had been looking out for you since you met. From a distance, of course.

"I didn't get your name last time" He knew your name, you knew a guy with his resources probably already knew the answer. But you indulged him, saying your name out loud for him, "that's pretty"

"Thanks"

"So what's got you stressed out enough to be smoking this late," He said your name. You liked the way it sounds coming from his voice; he liked the way it rolls off his tongue so easily.

"Had the worst night out, ever" Now it was your turn to sigh, leaning in to rest your arms on the ledge. He was eyeing your outfit now, an oversized hoodie clearly thrown over a going out outfit, black tights and heavy boots visible under it. And if you leaned forward just a little bit, he could see a bit of the miniskirt your hoodie was hiding. "You?"

"I've had worse, had better" He shrugged, intentionally giving you a vague answer. He wasn't going to tell you about his activities, no normal person wants to hear about that much violence.

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow, your tone was playful, and he knew you were about to tease him "You seem pretty fucked to me, or should I have seen the other guy?"

"Hey, I've got no open wounds tonight" He smirked and you wanted to scream, why was that so fucking attractive? "I'm counting that as a win"

You let out a chuckle, and you just missed the way his lips curved up in a smile when you left the cigarette butt on the tray. His eyes followed your movement, looking at the lipstick-stained cigarette for a few seconds before returning his focus to you.

"Were you born here?" He asked

"Nope, I moved a couple of years ago for college"

"How's that going?"

"I'm getting my masters now" You shook your head, looking up at him before continuing "What about you? Are you a full fledged Gothamite?"

"Loud and proud" He joked, getting you to laugh loudly.

"Of course you are, I can't imagine getting a costume and going out to fight criminals every night" You teased.

"Hey!" He tried to sound offended at your remark, but he couldn't hide the smile he was fighting against, so he opted for changing the subject "I'm sorry, what did you say you were studying?"

With that, he got you to tell him about your masters, how you got into that field, and what you liked the most.  You also got him to talk a bit about himself, even if he was not willing to give you that much information. Both to protect his identity and not to scare off the first girl he's had a crush on in a while. You both steered closer and closer to the other as you talked, close enough you could smell the intoxicating mix of gunpowder, sweat, and whatever cologne he used.

"Can I be nosy for a second?" You bit your lip at the risky question you were about to ask. He just nodded, his hands itching to touch you again, to wrap around your hips like they did last time he saw you. "What's the deal with you and Batman?"

"What deal? There's no deal" He brushed it off, he was about to take a step back when you stopped him. Pulling him in by grabbing his clothes, an eyebrow raised and a "do you think I'm stupid?" expression. "We don't get along, 's all"

"Really?" You knew you were pushing your luck.

"He hates me, I hate him" He explained, hoping to put your growing curiosity to rest.

"In my opinion," Your voice was soothing, and so was your hand on his chest. He didn't know how long it had been since he was touched like that; "hate like that can only be born out of someone you loved"

"He thinks I'm bad, they all do" You noticed how weak and sad his tone turned.

"I don't think you're bad, if it's worth anything"

He moved one hand up to cup your cheek, and he stared at you tenderly for a moment. It happened fast, his lips crashed onto yours in a second. You hummed, tasting the left over taste of the smoke, stood on your tip toes, hands fisting at his clothes to maintain some balance as he leans down too. His other hand rested on your back, but not too low trying not to push his luck with you.  And he kissed you like he had something to prove, whether it was to you or himself you were not so sure of. What you were sure of was how warm he felt, your body pushed up against his in the cold, windy night. It felt like a consolation prize after such a terrible night.

And he wanted to tell you that he wished he was a normal person, that he had a normal life, and he could date you without it meaning a death sentence to you. But all it comes out is; "I wish I never met you"

"Excuse me?" You gasped, pushing him off "What a weird fucking thing to say after kissing someone"

"No—I mean" He sighed, hands cupping your face once again. You just couldn't resist that. "You're pretty, and funny, you should be kissing someone normal"

"I think I can make that decision for myself"

"I should go" He let go of you, and you grew colder by the second, already missing him before he left.

"Wait," You tugged on the hood hanging on his back. He turned back to see you, anything to make the moment last more. "I usually come up here on Fridays, in case you need to talk to someone"

He just gave you a court nod before jumping off, and you could only stand there and think about what just happened. Despite his better reasoning, he found himself swinging by your rooftop that Friday, and the one after, and all the next ones for the foreseeable future.

a/n: I mentioned in my birthday drabble that poison ivy called reader "her favorite hostage" and this is why, so technically part of the birthday-verse?

[detectivedarling]

Dreams and dead kids

I went through @starry-bi-sky's shorter dpxdc au's the other day, and fell too deep in love with too many of them. Here's something inspired by their Danny Fenton is Jason Todd au whose spooky elements and universe crossover gave me so many brainworms

He doesn't start talking about the nightmares. Dick never does - he starts with something light, something interesting, something warm. But they always come up. "Free since Thursday," Danny rasps into the phone. It's Sunday. He can still feel the dreams in the back of his throat and against the curve of his ribs, tar thick and heavy. He doesn't think it will ever go away, not anymore. It's as much a part of him as his blood, the real thing not stained on green gloves and a yellow cape, as his ears and mouth and teeth, as the dark circles under his eyes.

Danny picks up Dick's phone call without looking. The ringtone is set for him specifically - everyone in his contacts have a personalized ringtone, so he doesn't need to blink the blood out of his eyes to know if one of his people is calling.

"Seems they really are becoming less frequent," Dick hums from the other end of the country, soft and warm and comforting. "Good, that's good. I'm still looking into medication. I've found one that might work for you."

Danny leans his head against his phone. His body feels like one at war, stuck between night terrors and the fear-born insomnia that attempts to stay away from them. "We'll see," he mutters, low and tired.

"If it doesn't, I'll keep looking, Jay," Dick says Danny's name like it's the most natural thing in the world. "I'll get you sleeping again if it's the last thing I do."

In a little city in Illinois, with two adoptive parents working on a portal to the other side in his basement, Danny huffs a laugh.

"My hero."

-

Danny has an accident.

That phrase is so juvenile. Like he's a child that wet the bed. 

Danny had an accident. Danny was in an accident. Danny messed up.

He doesn't know what to call it, but he needs to find out. Tucker called it the incident, once. It's carried with a tone that implies something big, but in the bathos way, were you're pretty sure it hides an embarrassing joke. Sam calls it june, like it's 9/11 and only the date is needed to explain it. Jazz calls it neglect. Their parents call it an oversight.

Death, Danny can't call it. He can barely bring himself to joke about it. He told the doctor that surveyed his lichtenberg scars that his heart probably stopped and started, like a natural defibrillator. The doctor doesn't take it as the joke he had hoped it was.

The day I died, his lips form the words without sound, the portal, the pain, the waking nightmare.

The one good thing about dying is that his dreams have stopped carrying the same weight. There's little to fear from the pressure on his ribs and blood in his mouth when he's already felt his body break open and mold itself into something new. His vision breaks red in the low morning sunlight. With the memory of death seeped into his mind, he no longer wakes up heaving or choking, crying or with ribs breaking in on him. He no longer wakes up breathing at all.

He thinks his heartbeat hurts more than it helps these days. It's a pain to get it going again each morning. With the echo of ticking clocks in his ears and blood still staining unfamiliar gloves to the vision of mangled hands, with the reflection of a shock and mind melting heat and eyes covering every inch of the portal, with the memory of death, both foreign and too close to home, Danny wakes as the living corpse he's become.

I'm not dead lingers in the back of his throat. It's a lie. The doctor said a mantra could help to wake up from his nightmares, but that one doesn't work anymore.

"I'm alive," his hoarse voice whispers into his too dead and too alive bedroom instead, because that one is true.

Danny's reflection in the window looks at him with five glowing eyes, overlapping and breaking of his face. He'd joke that the house is haunted, but it's just him.

He starts breathing again.

[ottpopfic]

“Its because your dad wants to babysit” Will informs him after a long bitch fest “he did the same thing before you figured out family dinners, remember”

Nico pauses, thinks it over, and then puts his face in his hands to groan “Fuck your right”

“Im always right”

“Don't start” Nico does not whine

“Just add him to the pick up drop off list” his husband laughs “then he can go have Grandpa time and we can get a date night”

“Are you sure?” Nico checks “he can be a lot”

“Lay down some rules first” Will shrugs, like a primordial force in the Kiss and Ride is no big deal “Just like you did last time”

Nico’s husband is so smart, he loves him so much. Nico makes a point to call his dad the next day to set things in motion

And his dad looks so guilty at the accusation, the same way he was when Nico called him out about the same thing before. It's comical in a way, the King of Hell looking a little like a puppy getting scolded after chewing a shoe under the indictment of his mortal son. Who says the gods can't be humbled

“Look, we're not saying you can't spend time with Katie, in fact we're saying the opposite. You just can't be pulling me off on jobs right and left so you can babysit, I'm exhausted and it's not good for Piccolina to spend so much time downstairs” Nico explains not unlikely “Also Jason is about to start trying to pick her up from you himself, I think he's going into kid withdrawal”

“The blond Valdez is banished from my kingdom until it is time for a permanent death” his father snaps “the two of them are on thin ice”

“Yeah well keep in mind that if you kill her uncles Katie will never forgive you,” Nico reminds “I think she loves Leo more than us sometimes”

“I will, refrain, from balancing the scales in regards to the Valdez's” Hades says only a little through his teeth, sounding more worried about his granddaughter's ire than killing two dudes who his son considers family “but they will not be allowed to ‘pick up’ from the palace, I can only bend things so far”

“Cool, works for us” Nico says “were planning on adding you to the pickup drop-off list”

“the pickup drop-off list?”

“Yeah, so you will be allowed to collect her after school”

“I do not need to be added to a list” Hades scoffs “I can just go in and get her”

“Uh no you can not” Nico tells him “The school secretary is a sphinx and I do not need to do the bureaucratic circus tricks she makes people do when they fuck around with her kids, there's a reason Leo got taken off the list”

The reason is Leo kept landing Festus on the roof and then entering the school through the roof access instead of the front door like visitors are supposed to. And while Miss. Tina is a lovely woman who cares very deeply about her work, she does not take kindly to little Latin twinks who think they can find a ‘secret entrance’ to what and who she is guarding.

Miss.Tina is one of the main reasons Katie is in the school she is, along with the three whole saitors who work there; especially Miss. Holly Fields the school nurse who specialises in getting kids diagnosed with an array of neurodivergentcies. It's part of a growing network of schools that The Program has been helping to not only get monsters and other mythological creatures jobs, but find young demigods faster. The earlier a kid is spotted the better, and well-staffed schools help protect the halflings that are not year-rounders

Its the reason they went with public school over the private schools they could have easily gotten Katie into, its safe there. There are two other demigod students in the building and they haven't had an successful monster atack in years, the magical employees make sure of that

[bellestrinkets]

the only innocent people in read dead redemption 2 were rains fall and the wapiti tribe.

i tend to see much discourse surrounding who was really innocent in the gang, who deserved to be spared. and, while we can all come to the agreement that some indeed deserved better, we have a whole other group of people that not only got one of the worst ends of the rope but just like the characters dismissed them, many playing the game also do.

the ride with rains fall it’s such a bittersweet moment. “brutality and beauty are both around us, yet so often we’re unable to see past our own grievances…”

rains fall was innocent not in a naive way but in a way of a man who had seen destruction and brutality; from such scarring thing stemmed a more insightful understanding of human relations. his fault was peacefulness, but in order to get to it much emotional intelligence was needed; “do not mistake my strength for weakness”, he was naive in the sense he believed the oppressor to have a consciousness, which they very much lacked. eagle flies saw the latter, however missed the former. falling for the youthful spirit of a tiring fight that could not be won, because there was nothing the government was not willing to do to strip the natives from anything that kept them afloat. wee see it throughout the game, the killing of the bisons, the burning and stealing of their sacred objects, the abuse, the obstruction of the vaccines. the government were (and are) greedy for corruption, greedy for blood and eagle flies, while acknowledging it, failed to see the extent to which they could go just to get their hands tainted red. something that his father did see.

so then we got some of our main characters;

dutch, who saw the gap and took advantage of it.

arthur, who also saw the gap and while he tried to mend it he got in too late.

charles, who i believe was a balance between both viewpoints from rains falls and eagle flies.

the tragedy and reality contained in this set of missions is too grave. it is not bereft of humanity, much of it appeals to the player’s human side. they are moving and unjust, even more so knowing the ending of them.

furthermore, this missions gifts us something about arthur that helps paint him in a whole new light. the death of isaac. this missions gifts us some of the most merciless parallels between paternities, what was and could have been.

eagle flies dying after saving arthur was nothing but intentional. eagle flies dying partially because of a moral code, “you saved my life more than once… to give mine for yours… it’s as it should be” is not but a reflection of the same crafted sense of pride we will see later on being discussed. eagle flies holding up to die in his father’s arms is no coincidence.

dutch took advantage of them in some of the nastiest ways imaginable, he too sinned of perceiving the natives the same way the men, he looked down upon in this ‘new world’, saw them. his moral oratory to bill was nothing but a vice when we come to the realization that he was no different after all from the other tyrants.

they were innocent not because they didn’t knew how to fight or stand up for themselves, but because they were actively used as a weapon to weld a man’s unruly plan and were never seen by him and those who supported him as much more than that. which, yes, also happened with the other characters but this was a whole community, a community that was actively and consciously led to its demise without even the entirety of it being on board with such plan.

thing is, the gang were criminals of some kind, from petty to violent. none denounced what they did to get money because that’s how they had lived, they were all accomplices. while truth can still be held about a few being more innocent than others, perhaps because they didn’t know any better, they were all at fault of their own crimes. rains fall and his tribe were not, they were perceived as criminals but from a colonized standpoint. even when trying to resolve their issues diplomatically they were disregarded and still held in low esteem.

of course history plays a big part in this whole conversation to reach further understanding. red dead redemption 2 portrays, as i already mentioned, legit ways the government pushed the genocide of indigenous people.

so, having this extra layer of abuse painted gold in the name of ‘liberation’ imposed by dutch only deepens the wound. us as player know he does not hold them in high regard, arthur knows it. the innocence i’m referring to comes from the context within the story they’re placed at. so yes, they were innocent and remain truly some of the only irreproachable characters within the game.

[princesseddiediazz]

Idea for a post-canon Destiel set up. It's long so bear with me but I'm never gonna write this but if someone else wants to or takes some inspiration from this-- feel free to do so. Castiel is saved from the Empty. One day, maybe a month after trying to get him back-- Jack just plops him into the Bunker. One little hiccup tho: Cas is human. Temporarily at least. Jack couldn't get Cas out of the Empty as is bc the entity had its hooks in him deep. And Jack thought the simplest thing to do was to cut Cas' grace out of him. You can't keep Castiel if he's a human. Jack plans to replace Cas' grace once he has a better grasp of his God Powers. Promises Cas will be extra-charged up eventually but for now, he'll have to remain human for the time being and has to chill with Sam and Dean in the bunker. And Dean's cool with that. He's been wanting Cas back for ages since the black goo swallowed him up. Only there's one problem that's screaming in Dean's head. He doesn't love Cas back.

Look, Dean cares about Cas so much. Cas is one of the most important people in the world to Dean and he wasn't gonna be able to live without Cas and function normally. That being said, that's just normal friendship stuff right? Or at least for their friendship it's normal to know that, had Cas been stuck in the Empty for eternity, Dean would have killed himself and eventually found a way to dismantle his soul. Because the thought of existence, even in death, without Cas in unbearable. BUT THAT'S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT JUST FRIENDS! So Dean doesn't love Cas back and he's trying to be cool about it. Trying too hard to be casual about it. But it's fine enough. He cooks Cas food, they watch t.v, get updates on Jack about re-making Cas' grace, and Dean even makes Cas laugh and smile sometimes. So yeah, maybe Dean doesn't love Cas back but this might be enough. Right?

There's a hunt. Dean's hesitant on Cas going as a human but Cas says he was a soldier for a millennia, he'll be more than capable of handling his own in a fight. People are going missing and then being found weeks later, their bodies showing signs that before they died they were in deep distress. It's a monster Sam finds out tortures the victims mentally because it feeds off emotions. This one seems to feed off their victims feeling despair. Utter fucking despair. Great, Dean thinks. This will go fucking great. Cas gets caught so of course Dean goes after him. He's always gonna go after Cas. It's a shit show. They're tied up together and the monster can read human Cas' mind, no longer able to protect all his wants and desires with the shield that was his angel grace. The monster starts doing the cliche bad guy monologue and talks about it's seeing into Cas' mind and sees how badly he wants Dean.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I already know pal. You're not gonna win this." Because it can't. It won't. Cas already confessed his unrequited love to Dean and yeah, it must hurt Cas to be reminded of it. But this isn't a secret. Dean knows and the monster can't use this against them right? (wrong. So very fucking wrong)

The monster keeps pushing, keeps revealing Cas' wants. His desires. "I'm surprised an angel's thoughts could be this sinful. Or is that why you're not an angel anymore?" it mocks. And look-- Dean's not shocked by Cas wanting sex with him. Because yeah, the guy's in love with him so Dean figured there was a good chance that Cas wanted to fuck him. And who could blame him? Dean knows he's a good looking guy and well-- he can't fault Cas for that. That's easy to understand. What's not easy to understand is what the monster continues to say. Says that's not even what Cas wants most from Dean. What could Cas want from Dean more than sex? Intimacy. Not just sexual intimacy but intimacy at its purest form. The monster says it's pathetic, Cas' thoughts. How Cas secretly cherishes every moment they touch. How he's felt selfish for liking when they hug after a dangerous fight and how he's reprimanded himself for even allowing himself to like those hugs. How when he heals Dean, it was something he hated himself for liking. How now he longs for those casual moments. A touch on the shoulder, feeling Dean brush by him in the doorway, a pat on the back, etc. How Cas has only been able to fall asleep some nights since becoming human when he pretends it's Dean he's holding in his arms and not a pillow. How he pretends he's watching over and protecting him because the highest honor he'd ever be given would be to watch over and hold Dean. How Cas thinks that if he had a heaven, it would be that.

The monster reveals all of this to Dean.

Cas' eyes are shining with tears. He's not looking at Dean. He's trying so hard to hold his emotions in, to keep them from spilling out but Dean's terrified. He's only seen Cas cry twice. Once from the confession and now. This is worse. Cas is humiliated. Heartbroken. Shattered. The monster's gotten what its wanted. Cas is broken and feeling nothing but pain. It starts feeding off him and Dean has no choice but to watch, still tied up. Sam saves the day just in the nick of time. The monster gets away. Sam unties them. Dean goes to check on Cas and Cas flinches away from him. He doesn't want Dean to touch him. Not now after Dean knows how much Cas craves the touch. It's too humiliating, too revealing. Dean tries to make things okay but it's not working. He thinks maybe Cas will get over it, that they'll go back to normal in a day or two. Weeks pass and Dean is going crazy. Cas and him have had no physical contact in ages. Not since before that monster humiliated Cas and then got away. Dean puts all his anger and hurt and every emotion he's feeling into hunting that son of a bitch down. he blames the monster for Cas ignoring him. It's not just that they've not had their usual causal touches, it's that Cas is completely different around him. No more movie nights. Tries to eat at different times than Dean-- going so far as to try and learn cooking for himself. Tells Dean he's busy when he wants to hang out. It's awful. Sam tells Dean he just needs to talk to Cas but god fucking dammit he's TRIED and Cas won't give him the time of day. It's like he's lost Cas all over again. Cas won't even look at him most days. Dean wants to cry over it but doesn't let himself think it. Dean wants to find that fucker who ruined his friendship bc none of this would be happening if that emotional bloodsucking dick hadn't revealed Cas' wants to feed off his despair. Dean spends days doing nothing but tracking that monster down and he does. He goes on a hunt alone. It goes poorly. Cas kills the monster and saves the day. Dean is injured. Not enough to warrant a hospital but he's in rough shape. Cas gets him to the motel. He's trying so hard to patch him up but without his powers he can't heal Dean the way he used to. He hates not being able to help Dean more. Hates seeing his face bruised and hearing Dean wince when he shifts in the motel bed he's laying down in. All he's been able to do is put on bandages and give him water. He asks Dean what he can do to help. What can he do that will have Dean feel better because Cas hates feeling useless. Dean looks at him from the bed and asks for one simple thing.

"Hold me"

Cas is hesitant. He doesn't know what to say, if he should even do it. Because is this a pity thing. But all his reluctance goes out the window when Dean says, "please". Weak and tired. And truly just wanting to be held. How could Cas say no? He's never been a strong angel man when it comes to Dean Winchester. So he gets into the bed and holds Dean. Dean cries. It all comes out now. The emotions he's been holding in since Cas got taken. Losing Cas the first time, the second time, third, forth, fifth--- and this distance that's come between them which has felt like losing Cas in another way. It all spills over and Dean just wants Cas closer to him. Impossibly closer but it doesn't stop him from holding him tighter. He tells Cas he wants this too. That he wants to be held. To hold Cas as well. To be with him. To be together. They're better together aren't they? He doesn't even know if Cas is in love with Dean anymore, it hasn't felt like it. Dean just wants his best friend back because he's missed him desperately. But if Cas wants him-- he's got him. He's got all of him forever and always. Eternity. Death won't separate them again. Dean doesn't want 'til death do us part'. Dean wants eternity with Cas, if Cas will have him.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

FORGED UNDER FIRE

BATTLEFRONT NEWS

blurb: he promised he would come back, but he didn't. now you're alone trying to navigate your grief while lilith tries to reason with you about the unexpected news

pairing: brennan sorrengail x rider! reader

word count: 2.4k

a/n: hey guys! i'm back with another part of FORGED UNDER FIRE. i heard what you guys had to say on the poll so this is placed right before and right after brennan's death. as always there are no fourth wing spoilers much less onyx storm.

it's been really fun writing lilith sorrengail and i'm sure she's a little ooc, i love her character but i need to reread iron flame to gain the essence of her character. i've got a couple of ideas for the next part but i'll leave it in your hands again with another poll at the end!

thank you for all the nice comments in the other two parts of the mini series. i can relate to so many of you who come seeking more fourth wing content because the withdrawal is so real. my heart goes out to all the other fourth wing writers, i literally jumped from joy when someone posted a boyfriend!ridoc fic. he's my absolute favorite.

omg if any of you have any liam fics you'd like to share let me know!!

i'm rambling! enjoy!!

The world outside Brennan Sorrengail's room was falling apart. Navarre was not prepared for this war. Riders turning their backs on riders, dragons fighting dragons, a thing of nightmares. All because of the rebellion led by Fen Riorson.

But inside his small, basic room, the first rays of the sun filtered through the window, falling over him. It made his hair appear more red than brown, and it highlighted the growing amount of freckles on his face.

He had been awake for hours indulging in your body before setting off to fight in the rebellion because the war was not worth sacrificing one quiet morning with you where Brennan got to memorize every bit there was to you. The protests of his exhausted body were mere whispers, muffled by his love and desire.

Brennan accepted the importance of his signet and his position as a soldier in the military. He acknowledged his duty to Navarre, but it couldn't stop him from spending time with the person he loved most in the world.

"Don't go," you whispered as your fingers roamed over his naked chest. The pads of your fingers ghosted the spot where his heart beat, and an arrow would later be impaled-almost like a premonition.

He had to go, and you accepted it. It's how a rider's life went, always going and never stopping. You had a mission yourself and would be leaving the station later on in the day. Still, you hoped neither would be forced to part.

"To leave you is against my will," he responded, kissing your forehead as his living breath tickled your skin. His hand was tangled in your hair, pulling your face to his neck as he soothed himself of the gnawing feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. "You know I'd prefer to stay like this."

Your evolving relationship was blessed by three years in Basgiath, where you saw each other nearly every day. Not long after graduation, the bubbling rebellion boiled over and tore you apart, only allowing you to see him days at a time in between missions.

But whenever you and Brennan parted ways, he always promised he'd come back. It meant everything to you that he returned because he alone had become your favorite person. He was the one you could depend on for anything. He was your family.

Straight out of Basgiath, without wasting another moment, he decided to marry you to make it a reality. It's you and Brennan against the world as it had always been.

"You will be safe," you stated, lifting your head to kiss his jaw.

"I'll come back for you," he agreed, pulling the bed sheets over your bodies to indulge in you one last time. Unbeknownst to either of you.

You trusted he would return; it didn't matter if he was injured or mentally exhausted. Brennan would return to your side in no time. He hadn't failed you up to that moment, but little did you know that Fen Riorison would target him or that his trusted partner Naolin wouldn't be able to save him and would lose his life as well.

The news reached General Sorrengail first. A nervous rider handed her the missive and gave his report before scurrying out of the office. His behavior alerted Lilith that something was amiss. As she unscrolled the missive, her eyes widened, and tears welled up in her eyes. Rain fell outside as more clouds stormed closer, unleashing lighting and torrential winds.

She held the missive close to her chest as she lowered herself to a leather chair, a lonely sob falling from her mouth. Her son was dead, gone from this world. Her firstborn had been claimed by Malek before she had the chance to greet him there.

When you returned from your mission, you were guided directly into Lilith Sorrengails's office, pity-filled eyes directed towards you. Knots tightened in your stomach, yet your brain refused to understand why. The fatigue of the mission rendered your thinking slow. Perhaps it was denial protecting you for a couple more moments.

Lilith waited for you in her office, her back to you as she stared at the storm she created outside. A war strategy you naively believed. You didn't know the woman well; the war had everyone distracted, and you barely had time to get to know your husband's own mother. She was far too important to spare that kind of time.

"General Sorrengail, you asked for me." Your voice was hoarse from trying to communicate with the other riders over the wind. Lilith was carefully still, her hands behind her back as a missive was clutched in her fist.

Lilith turned, and the first thing you noticed was her bloodshot eyes. You tilted your head in question, but she didn't speak. She grabbed your hand and placed the missive in it. She left you standing in the middle of the room alone to deal with her own grief.

Now that you knew, she could tell the rest of the family. Lilith didn't know you well, but she knew how much Brennan adored you, and as his wife, you had every right to know of his death before the rest of the family.

He was dead. You knew. Reading the missive wouldn't change the fact he was gone and broke his promise. You only read the missive in case your gut was wrong, but you were met with cruel disappointment.

The edges of your vision darkened, and your ears ringed unbearably, and it would not stop until the war was finished. The following weeks were spent in a daze, mourning and fighting. You refused to take leave while others fought the war Brennan couldn't escape.

You don't remember much except for crying whenever you were in private and fighting the rebellion ferociously, through salty tears and bitter pain. Seeing the riders that betrayed Navarre made your blood boil, transforming your grief into wrath.

The moment Lilith took care of Fen Riorson, the ringing in your ears eased up. A cot waited for you at the healer's quadrant. Your body was spent and exhausted, wounded in many ways, but it could be healed, unlike the pain in your chest.

The only one who could heal it was long gone. The anger towards the rebellion turned to sadness, and then it morphed into resentment. Because how dare he leave you after everything you went through.

Finally, the resentment calmed into loneliness, leaving you with an emptiness that nothing could fill. The rebellion took a big part of you, and you debated whether you could go on. The old thought of making a name of yourself was a faint whisper in your head. It didn't seem like enough to keep you going without him.

The breeze teasingly swayed your body, reminding you of all its capabilities. It almost threw you off once, and it can do it again. This time around, it could succeed. You'd willingly let the wind sweep you away, cradling your body in a tight, cold hold if it meant reuniting with Brennan.

The war was over. Fen Riorson was taken care of by Lilith Sorrengail, but only after he took your Brennan's life. The first man to love you. The first person to reach deep and take you out of the protective shell you created when younger.

Brennan showed you what it was like to make friends and laugh with them and that bonding with people not related by blood was worth it. Those ties are worth more than anything. He taught you that loving was a good thing, and then he left you.

Just like that.

Calliss was nearby, her golden eyes set in your swaying form. She won't let you fall to your doom; she'll catch you because your pain was gut-wrenching but human. And like all human emotion, it will pass. Heartbreak will not be the downfall of the rider she chose oh so carefully.

If you turned your head, you could see Brennan, five years younger, softly smiling at your younger self, who was frozen on her spot fighting vertigo, encouraging you to breathe and keep walking.

It was clearly the past, seeing as the abyss under the parapet no longer bothered you; your footing was firm despite the wind. You're also older, and Brennan is no longer with you. It's only a sight you've conjured up.

"I hope you're not planning on jumping," Lilith spoke, breaking the illusion. She strode down the parapet like a grassy path in a forest, and the air stilled.

"It is tempting, but Calliss would not appreciate it." You responded truthfully, avoiding her gaze.

Calliss' chuffs from a distance. "That's right, human. I did not pick you just for you to be your own demise."

Lilith had been trying to speak with you, not as General Sorrengail but as Brennan's mother. It's the reason you've been avoiding her. You don't want to speak about him. All you want is to forget and feel some form of relief.

"What are you doing here then?" Lilith questioned, standing next to you.

"Remembering. This is where we met," you said simply, tilting your head towards her.

Lilith hummed, assessing your stance. "I remember when he first told me about you in his second year. He had yet to realize he was smitten with you, but the way he spoke told me and Asher all we had to know."

Screwing your eyes shut, you hung your head. Nothing will change the fact that he's dead.

"I know you're heartbroken, but there is still much to live for," Lilith told you. You had to listen to her because you might not jump today, but that reckless behavior will follow you far into your career.

"I'm sure." Sarcasm dripped from your voice as you began to walk off the parapet.

Lilith followed you. She must speak with you about an important matter she was made aware of. "There's something you must know. The healers, they said-"

You stopped and turned on your feet, the air continuing to rush around you, "I know what they said. I've known for weeks, Lilith. It's why I stand here wanting to fall, but my feet are stuck to the ground."

There was anger in your eyes, hot tears threatening to fall from your eyes. This was not supposed to happen. Not now, and maybe not ever. One thing is for certain, it shouldn't have happened if he wasn't supposed to be alive.

"Did Brennan know?"

You sighed and trekked the last piece of parapet before falling on solid ground, "We did not know. And yet, a part of me continues to wonder if knowing would've changed anything. Would he have stayed behind? Would have he been more cautious knowing he had a pregnant wife? Or would it all have played the same?"

"He had a role to play in the war."

You scoffed at Lilith's remark, the older woman's jaw tightening. She's General Sorrengail; of course, she would think nothing would've changed, but Brennan was not like her. He wouldn't have sacrificed everything for a war.

Upon your silence, she continued, "Due to your performance in the war, General Melgren has given the orders for you to join my team."

"Has he? Or do you want to keep an eye on me?"

"Your signet has proved to be of more use than anyone thought," Lilith sighs, "Plus, if you allow me, I want to be part of the baby's life."

"Who is to say I'll keep it?" You say bluntly. Raising a child on your own was never part of your plans, and you may birth the baby, but keeping it seems unlikely.

"Pardon?" Lilith was shocked. She never imagined you'd consider otherwise, seeing as you're carrying the last piece of Brennan.

"I have no family. I was abandoned as a child, left to fend for myself. Starting a family was never in the forefront of my mind," you say harshly, knowing Lilith was judging you.

"You and Brennan married. We became your family from that moment on," she says, holding your arm when you turn to leave.

Calliss voiced her displeasure at a distance. She's been more protective since the news of your pregnancy broke. Or rather, when you found out because bonding with a dragon means having no privacy.

"No offense, but it's not like we've spoken much in the last two years."

General Sorrengail scoffed, "So you're going to do what your parents did to you and abandon the child?"

That was a low blow. Lilith wanted to get a rise out of you, and she got it as you tore your arm from her grip and stalked forward to be face to face.

"You cannot speak of things you know nothing about, General. My parents abandoned me with a senile great-grandmother who loved to use a wooden stick to 'train' me and beat me just because she was in a bad mood. She used to say I owed it to her because she allowed me to live with her. Fifteen years I had to endure until I realized being homeless was a better way to live." Your breaths came out in heavy pants as you spilled your guts to Lilith, "So no, I will not be like my parents because although I am not fit to be a parent, I would never leave my child in an abusive home."

Lilith remained quiet, taking in the weight of your words. "Fine, but please let Asher or me know if you need anything. You don't have to go through the pregnancy alone. It's up to you."

With that, Lilith walked past you but not before saying, "No matter what, you are to report to my office in the morning, but you can also join us for dinner tonight."

Lilith was relentless, and she was going to try her best to get through to you because you were young and scared, and your husband just died. She should've reached out to you sooner and formed a bond, but she didn't, and now she's paying the price of her daughter-in-law feeling more alone than ever and wanting to give up a part of her family.

It was Lilith's mistake that you don't consider them family. She wanted to fix it to make you realize that you have her and Asher and Mira and Violet, and if you allow them, they will love you as one of their own.

thanks for reading!! this one is a wee bit longer than the previous one but it seemed fitting to capture all reader went through after his death.

we'll eventually get to brennan finding out about his child and reader finding out he's alive but for now we need more backstory <3

tag list (if you'd like to added to future parts let me know!) : @berry-marys @cherubinn7 @ladynyx91 @kylaisra @detectivehailey @liahaslosthermind @thebreadisthetruevillian @bbkissme99 @honethatty12 @sunny1616 @akshstudios @yadirrez @xoxomoonlightbabe @jaynawayna @littlepippilongstocking @itsmytimetoodream @honethatty12

[baocean]

no rest for the wicked

chapter two - user38591

masterlist | next chapter

yn.cam: lucky 🍀 💓

tarabaileyyy: wait i’m coming on the run next time

↳ sarahcam: do it!!!!

sarahcam: wait send me that pic of me and mat on the paddleboards

topperthornton: 👍🏻

matheo.gc: Nice legs

↳ rafecam: Do you ever think about what ur death would look like

↳ matheo.gc: You need psychiatric help brother

“who is that?”

you drop your phone to your stomach, head snapping up to look at your sisters.

“it’s maddie.” you lie, wheezie rolling her eyes.

“maddie is so annoying. all she talks about is rafe. i don’t understand it.” your little sister groans, throwing her head back.

you tucked your legs into your chest, turning your phone off and setting it on the coffee table in front of you.

what the hell is wrong with jj?

“leave her be, she’s nice.” sarah tilted her head to the side, grabbing her iced tea from the table.

wheezie’s phone buzzed, picking it up and reading the caller id, “it’s marcy, i gotta go. always something with this girl.”

your little sister walked back into the house, leaving sarah and you alone on the lookout of the front yard of tannyhill.

you turn to sarah, snickering, “when did she get so…”

“heinous? must have you and rafe to thank for that.” sarah shrugged her shoulders, then scooted towards you.

“so i was with john b and jj last night.” sarah’s voice drops an octave, leaning in towards you.

your ears perk at his name, then confusion hits you, because you were with jj last night.

no one was at the chateau, just jj and you. your mind flashes back to dark rooms with only cigarette light illuminating jj’s features. the sound of his breathing hitch when you touch him, the sound of the cheap bedframe squeaking, among other things.

“well, at first it was me and john b,” sarah grins raising her eyebrows as a tell, “then jj showed up, like, an hour later.”

you nodded your head along with her. “so?”

“well, we went to the lighthouse, and you know…best sex of my life. then jj showed up and we got high.”

“wow, so romantic, sarah!” you let a sarcastic smile fall onto your features, then dropped it.

“sarah, this sounds like a really bad idea.” you warned, your eyebrows lifting.

“they just want to find john b’s dad. they don’t even care about the gold.” sarah defended, her legs coming up into a criss cross.

that’s not what jj implied, but okay.

“we could use your help, you know.” sarah’s head lifted, her eyes searching for a reaction.

you laugh, shaking your head no. “i’m not helping them.”

“yn. this means a lot to me.” sarah pleaded, grabbing your hands.

you sigh, rolling your eyes. “let me think about it, okay?”

you wouldn’t think about it, there were several reasons why you weren’t looking to help the pogues. but, sarah doesn’t need to know that.

“yes! okay!” sarah leaned over to hug you, then bounced off the sofa. “i’ll see you later, k?”

once she disappeared into the house, you finally blew out the breath you’d been holding in.

-

taglist - @dr3amgrlll @murdockcastleslut @str4wb3rrym1lkl0v3r @obxcc @imsiriuslyreal

[the7thhorcrux]

Hello! This might be a common theme among Snape fics but…

What do you think about Severus and reader being good friends in school and slowly grow further apart due to his Death Eater status. That is, until they see each other again later in their adult years and maybe dormant affections rekindle?

severus snape, ❝ i missed you. ❞

i just might have an idea for an eventual part two-

༺☆༻

You tried. You really did! But no matter how hard you tried to keep in touch, it wouldn't matter. Because friendship should go both ways. And even though Severus clearly cared for you, you two eventually... drifted apart. You have to admit that you didn't treat his meetings with other Death Eaters seriously at first. But who can blame you? His constant excuses were made to make you think it's nothing serious. "we're just going there to talk" or "they are my friends too, so i need to help them when they need me" were one of the many things you'd hear in your teenage years still at school. But once you both graduated and his 'friend group' turned out to be officially well known literal cult (!), you did set the boundary there. Long talks turned into brief conversations, those into writing letters, until finally Severus stopped replying to those that you had sent. You suspected he didn't even read them at all. Why would he? All you knew was the rumors of what the Death Eaters were doing now and apparently how far they were willing to go to prove their point. You were not only angry but also disappointed. In him, but also in yourself for not reacting sooner, when maybe there still was a chance to stop him. Prevent any of this from happening. Especially now, that the Dark Lord was back.

༺☆༻

You sat at the table, drumming your fingers against the wooden surface as Molly set down a warm cup of tea in front of you. With a small nod and a smile you took a sip. The Order members were still on their way here, as you were informed. It was rather spontaneous - bringing you here to help them. After your contact with Severus died down you decided to focus on your studies, mastering your abilities. And now, your connections and knowledge could be useful to help the Order and many other people. After all, if Albus Dumbledore himself asks for your assistance, then it's probably important. So here you are now. Sitting at the table at Grimmauld Place 12, chatting with Sirius and Molly, drinking tea as they tried to update you on what they got so far. You looked down at the newspaper Arthur brought in, focusing on it briefly as everyone walked into the room where the meeting was supposed to take place in. So many old and new faces you could see again. It should bring you joy, maybe even a sense of comfort. To see old friends again. Yet your heart stopped for a moment as Severus sat down at the end of the table, avoiding your gaze. You looked away, not sure what to do. Smile? Wave? it was confusing, so you decided to focus on more important matters at the moment.

After the meeting (and rather heated argument in between Severus and Sirius, that briefly made you realise how not as much they both had changed) you stood up, looking as the room to cleared. before you could even do anything you saw Severus was already gone. Even though you could've sworn he was right next to you just a moment before.

It was only two meetings later that Severus finally pulled you to the side on your way out of the building.

"Sev!" you blinked, not expecting him to actually initiate any contact with you, and definitely not like that. He muttered your name quietly and you had a feeling he said it out loud for the first time in years.

"I need to talk to you. Just for a minute," he explained. The tone of his voice betrayed how uncomfortable he actually felt at the moment - something you haven't seen in years. he must’ve noticed that too, because he relaxed slightly shortly after you nodded.

"i had no idea you belong to the Order." you said, awkwardly folding your arms on your chest.

"i, as well, was not informed you do too now." he responded, his voice a bit lower this time and tone much colder than he intended.

"is that a problem?" you frowned, asking defensively. "i know you probably didn't wanted to talk to me, but i don't think that our past should have any negative effect on the Order's efficiency-“

“what are you taking about?” he stopped your rambling and frowned.

“you’re not going to ask me to not talk to you outside of the Order meetings?” you asked, also frowning in confusion.

“Merlin, of course not,” he shook his head, visibly frustrated and maybe even annoyed. “i wanted to…” he paused. right. what did he wanted? “i suppose i wanted to say… that I’m sorry.” he muttered.

“you suppose?” you shook your head. “you decided to completely throw away our friendship and for what? to just come back years later? as if nothing happened?” you said, even though your tone betrayed that there was no real anger behind those words; just regret that so many years were wasted.

“that’s my fault. for pushing you away.” he admitted reluctantly. “and i apologize for it.”

“i wrote you letters…” you said quietly after a moment of silence. “…but since you stopped reading them i stopped sending new ones-“

“i was always reading them,” he said defensively. “i still should have them somewhere… i just had no idea what to write to you back.”

You looked up at him, his expression showing how sincere he was in this moment.

“…we should catch up.” you offered quietly. “a lot of things had happened.”

“yes. we definitely should.” he nodded.

After a moment of silence you looked up at him again after he called your name again.

“i missed you.”

You smiled softly, feeling his hands rest on your shoulders gently, pulling you into a hug.

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

-i am drowning, there is no sign of land-

Zhi zhi and zhi zhi again went the wooden shuttles of Lü Zhi's loom. The shadow of her husband appeared in the doorway. Lü Zhi watched his muddy reflection in her bronze dressing-table mirror, but pretended to take no notice.  The specter faltered, retreated a few steps, and then finally its owner seemed to rally his courage and it advanced forward again. 

“Wife, I am home!” Liu Bang said heartily, strolling into the room with his chest puffed up and his chin jutting out. If he could not feel confident, he should endeavor to look it. As Master Sun said; ‘all warfare is based on deception.’ In that regard, martial and marital matters had a lot in common.

“Good evening, Husband,” Lü Zhi replied coolly, without deigning to raise her eyes from her weaving; “I trust Husband is well.” 

“Same old, same old,” Liu Bang said with a wave of his hand. He looked around for a seating platform but found none. In spite of the richness of the large room with its polished elm walls and high ceilings, it was still as bare as the day he brought it, which rendered it as austere as a monastery. Aside from the bed and dressing table, there was no other furnishings except the loom and Lü Zhi herself kneeling on a plain straw mat. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Lü Zhi continued without the slightest change in inflection, “because it has been half a month since Husband has set foot in the same house as his wife and children. He is always being called away on important business, it makes me worried that all of this hard work might be ruining his health.”   

Liu Bang stood there awkwardly in front of her, feeling like an unlucky scout reporting bad news to his general. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the bareness of the room was not so much as thrift as it was a pointed message. Nonetheless, his smile was all teeth and charm as he cooed, "my wife is too caring. I'm sorry for making her worry," outwardly he appeared at ease, but his eyes were filled with grim determination as he stared down at this plain, dumpy woman. It was the life-and-death focus of a man trying to find a coiled cobra in a big pile of rope. “But enough about me! How’s the new house treating you, darling? You settling in alright? Shit, who woulda thought Old Liu from Pei County would ever be able to afford a place this flash? Every room is a fucking maze, it must take a whole incense-stick just to get from the bed to the dresser–and look at you, my poor little woman’s gotten so skinny from all that walking, haha!"

“The house is very fine,” Lü Zhi pulled a thread taunt and snapped it with her teeth. “I am so fortunate to have a benevolent husband who is generous to all his women." 

The unspoken name of Liu Bang's old mistress, now an official concubine whose proof of purchase had been stamped by Liu Bang's own magisterial seal hung in the air like an unpleasant smell. Like that whore's cheap perfume, clinging to my husband and finding its way into my bed, Lü Zhi thought to herself, as she moved the shuttles back and forth with slightly more force than necessary. Damn, this was going to ruin the weft. The proper thing for a woman to do in this situation was to be happy and gracious. To rejoice in her husband's newfound happiness and the fact he would finally have male heirs to pass on the family line. Proper was a shackle around her ankle, crippling her. Proper was a noose around her neck, tightening with every passing year as her fertility dwindled. She had given her youth and beauty to this man and look at what being proper had earned her. 

“That’s good, that’s good," Liu Bang said. "Y'know what they say, 'if there is peace in the home, there shall be peace on earth,'" her husband had the mouth of a born gambler, Lü Zhi once remarked to her sister that you could break both his kneecaps and he’d still prattle on as smoothly as spilled oil. His only tell was that he repeated himself when he was nervous. 

There was a moment of silence as Liu Bang looked around the room, as if to admire the non-existent decor. "It's good that you're settled," he said again. 

"If Husband has something on his mind, he should say it," Lü Zhi looked up at him and smiled with such sweetness it made every hair on Liu Bang's arm stand on end. "There should be no secrets between a man and his wife." 

"Well," Liu Bang rubbed his bearded chin. “I wasn't going to mention it, but since you asked I might as well. I heard you had one of our girls whipped this morning. The new one named Xiao Tiao.” 

“Whipped and dismissed,” Lü Zhi answered, flicking away a speck of dust with her nails, “I have no use for incompetent servants.” 

“A hard lesson is a good lesson!” Liu Bang replied placatingly, “I’m sure she’ll be all the wiser for it now. That being said, wouldn’t you prefer to keep her around and reap the fruits of your labours? I mean, she is only ten years old, that’s plenty of time to learn.” 

Lü Zhi’s sidelong look could not be described as glacial–even glaciers were known to occasionally melt. "Husband is a duke now and a leader of men. He should focus on the affairs of state and not concern himself with a woman's household duties. Such things are beneath him." 

"Oh, you're right as always, I suppose." Liu Bang agreed, “I shouldn’t meddle. My wife always runs my household so well and does the–what’cha call it?–fiscally responsible thing to save me a whole bunch of money. I’m so blessed to have her. That being said, I am a tiny, little bit curious to know what Xiao Tiao did that was so terrible.” 

“That brat is idle, insolent and has an ill-favoured look about her,” Lü Zhi snapped, “what other reason do I need?” It would be simpler and faster to frame Xiao Tiao for theft, but that could just as easily backfire on Lü Zhi. Either Liu Bang wouldn’t believe it and end up resenting his wife–or he would believe it and be impressed by that brat’s gall. He was exactly that type of shameless, contrary-minded scoundrel to respect a good con when he saw it. 

“Now, that’s scarcely a proper reason!” Liu Bang had the guts to chuckle. There was a steely glint in his eyes now. It was the look of a blade that had seen an opening and was eager to thrust into it. "Wife, if I didn’t know any better it would sound like you’re jealous of that ugly little thing."

Lü Zhi’s head shot up. Liu Bang, for all his apparent guilelessness, had struck surprisingly close to home. She had let her temper get the better of her and forgotten the second most important fact about Liu Bang; gamblers did not fold even if they held a bad hand. They would cling onto it until they were cleaned out or their luck turned.

“I will not dignify that with a reply,” she hissed venomously, “the very notion insults me.” 

“C’mon Wife, you should know better than to think your husband could be interested in something like that,” Liu Bang said in an insufferably cajoling voice, and there was that god-forsaken smile again, his fox’s smile. “I picked her up from the side of the road because I felt sorry for her. You might as well get mad at a little tame sparrow or rabbit. I only brought her here because I thought she’d make a good handmaid for my daughter. It’s high time she had one, being a proper little lady and whatnot. Look, the decision is yours since you’re the mistress of the house. If she’s too stupid for housework then put her outside and make her chop firewood. Hell, she can sleep with the firewood too, if that makes you happy. You’ve already whipped her bloody, why not set a virtuous example and let bygones be bygones? I’ve already spent so much on her food and board, it wouldn’t be fiscally responsible to kick her out now! Let Husband get his money’s worth at least.”

It must be said that even in the depths of her anger, Lü Zhi did not believe Liu Bang had any desire for that skinny, black-skinned wrench. In all honesty, she would have hated that mangy stray less if Liu Bang had intended to make her into a concubine. That was understandable, at least–men were led by their pricks, why should her husband be any different?

But the truth was that although Liu Bang held a great deal of affection for the brat, that affection was fatherly and it made Lü Zhi absolutely sick to her stomach. Her husband was always tugging Xiao Tiao’s braids and sneaking her treats from his sleeve when he thought Lü Zhi’s back was turned.

He was more of a father to her than he had ever been with his own flesh-and-blood daughter. The lawful product of their union. This orphan girl he picked up during his last campaign was foul-mouthed, hard-scrabble and canny, exactly the three qualities Liu Bang loved best because they reminded him of himself.

His own daughter had been raised to be proper, highly marriageable lady, a picture-perfect example of the old adage, 'a talentless woman is virtuous.' Unlike her mother, who had been tutored on a level that was almost equal to a boy–more than equal, if that boy happened to be Liu Xiao’er– the girl had only ever been taught to weave, be demure, and say nothing of value. Both husband and wife had been adamant about it, because it was the proper thing to do. Liu Bang both prized and detested his daughter for it. He would boast about her virtue and complain about how frivolous and empty-headed she was in the same breath. She was a piece of decoration he couldn’t wait to sell off. Perishable goods with expensive upkeep and an expiration date. He certainly wouldn’t be caught dead walking through the flower garden with her, deliberately shortening his stride to keep careful pace with a pair of smaller legs. He couldn’t bend his head low in order to hear her speak, nodding and smiling at her words, his expression attentive and approving. 

notes:

welcome to the 210 BC Horrible Person Olympics, lets have a round of applause for the defending champions of the mixed doubles; Lü Zhi and Liu Bang!

opening sentence onomatopoeia is a reference to the ballard of hua mulan. uhh something something twisted mirror of a dutiful woman sacrificing herself to uphold the patriarch and patriarchy

Xiao Tiao is written as 小粜, Tiao meaning broomstick.

Liu Bang liking competitive, rough-and-tumble people was partially inspired by the historical records. Liu Bang favoured Consort Qi's son, Liu Ruyi over Lü Zhi's son Liu Ying because Liu Ying was too nice and gentle. Also, y'know, his taste in women in general.

uhhh i may have fuged the timelines a little here. Liu Ying is born in 210 and Liu Bang's big glowup takes places in 211. bear with me.

[imagination-mess]

Bittersweet (Mafia Leader Izuku X Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 1.1K+

Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Not-beta read. This is kind of rush. My brain was mushed.

I blame @sugarlywhispers for my brain rot for mafia au. This has been sitting in my drafts for quite a bit. Here is my attempted at it.

It was a rude awakening for Izuku, who had been in a long-term relationship previously with the other side's leader. He didn't know about it and believed that he was dating a civilian who was in medical school. It was due to their old past relationship. It made Izuku hesitate on how to react while processing through the shock of seeing his ex in the flesh. 

Bakugou wanted to skin him alive for submitting defeat and proposing a truce but did not want to admit it. They are surrounded by members with guns drawn at them. One thing leads to another, leading the two to be in this mess with no bullets or weapons. A knife can take down one person, but not a pack of 15 people pointing at them with guns in different locations in the warehouse.  You were staring at him as if he were a bug underneath your shoe. There was no chance of escaping. The only exit out of here is through a body bag. They had run out of bullets ages ago. 

All of this because one of Izuku's minions killed the wrong person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, not knowing the victim was their connection to the other mafia group within the area of the crime scene. 

One death triggered a turf war between the two groups. It took a phone call from Aizawa giving him a verbal warning about what was going to happen. Aizawa told him exactly what was going to happen, for his members were dropping like flies or going MIA to only be found dead in an alleyway. 

But due to having good mutual allies within different gangs in the country, your gang wasn't the only one that Izuku had to worry about. Your family was one of the oldest and still-standing gangs, meaning it wasn't just your gang that Izuku had to worry about. 

There were other gangs involved in this; the only warning he could get was from people who he has gained their trust and do truces. He pissed off the wrong gang, who were neutral with most things, but it was an innocent life that his member took that set off the wrath of the family. An individual who was biologically related to the family. 

A truce on giving up the members that were involved in the mission that he had given to them to stop this one-sided war. He personally delivers them on a silver platter to you immediately after being let go. He had 5 hours to deliver to them; otherwise, it would be Bakugoe's and his head and his. 

The only saving grace was his previous relationship with you. You were the one who broke up with him two years ago. Izuku is quite aware that the only reason why you didn't reject his truce is because he never has truly lied to you. You knew he was a gang leader but still dated him. 

It makes Izuku ponder back to the time period when he was in a romantic relationship with you. Things are making sense with the information he knows now. Your life was never threatened despite dating a gang leader. It was a traditional way to get payback. Izuku knows he has enemies. You seem like the perfect target to never be bothered. You never had issues with men harassing you at your part-time job, despite working at a maid cafe.

You were the only girl within the bloodline to not be related to only one mafia family, but two different families. You were a child from an arranged marriage that was a part of the truce between the gangs. One was a brutally violent gang with a neutral group. It was an interesting truce from an outside perspective.

It came as a surprise to Izuku to find out that Shouto knew about your existence and was under the impression that Izuku knew that you were considered to be royalty, as Shoto is within the mafia world. Shouto and you grew up together, only to grow apart when the two of you went to different high schools. 

He was treated like an idiot by his allies, not knowing this not-so-secret information. You were declared off-limits years ago, and your father made sure to send the message. It was years before Izuku was even within this world. No one told him, thinking that you had told him or knew about it. 

The two of you come across each other face to face months later after the incident, taking the people who were responsible for killing one of your brothers. You were wearing scrubs, unlike that night when you were wearing completely black from head to toe and pulling down the mask that covered half of your face.

You must have finished medical school, seeing the badge on your bag that was purposely turned to prevent people from seeing where you work. 

He couldn't help but ask you a question that has been in his mind for the past couple of months. 

"Do you know that I didn't know who you were?"

You turn around to look at him and blink at his blurted-out question.

"Yes, I knew. I thought you were smart enough to figure it out." You gave him a small smile and picked at the cardboard paper around your takeout coffee. Both of you knew he didn't figure it out.

"You were fresh air to me. You didn't put me in a box, terrified of my family's wrath."

Izuku saw that look in your eyes, having eye contact with him before looking away. There was a hint of endearment. It was a stare that you often gave him when you were together. If you still had love for him, why did you break up with him?

"Did someone force you to break u-"

"Izuku. Don't. For both of us, let's stay out of each other's lives." 

You were harsh, but it also seemed like it hurt you to say those words. You left him at that. Izuku saw how tense you became at the implication that someone forced you to break up with him. 

He remembers the emotional voice when you were breaking up with him over the phone. You were stern, but the sound of your voice. You were barely holding it together. You didn't provide him with any explanation. It was your friends that came over to take your things from his apartment. 

You left him with uneasiness on his chest. He didn't like the way your body reacted to his questions. 

Now knowing what kind of family you come from, it is possible that someone did force you to break up with him. It was a clear sign that it wasn't your choice.