#by chance i happened to be looking something up fairly recently which lead me to clock that Sarah was (then) still with us‚ admittedly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

octerminal · 4 years ago

Text

Avoiding the ME1 LI Romances

...And also what to do if you’ve already triggered them.

This is a post I’ve been wanting to remake forever, and with the remaster around the corner I thought now was a good time to finally get on it.

A few things first: I say “avoiding the ME1 LI romances”, but in reality this is mostly going to be about Kaidan and Ashley. While there are a few ways around Liara’s romance I’ve discovered, I have never been able to find a simple way to avoid triggering it. (I’ll get to that later.)

This post will be split into three sections: Kaidan, Ashley, and Liara. Kaidan and Ashley’s sections specifically will go over how to avoid triggering their romances entirely, and then the dialogue choices you need to take if you want to end the romance if it’s already been triggered. I have also included a few bonus things for the both of them, such as avoiding the flirting during the scenic view cutscene in the Citadel Wards. For Kaidan specifically, I have also included content about his mechanics in ME3.

Please note that most of these have been accomplished on console. I have gotten several PC users who do attest that, at the very least, Kaidan’s portion works for them. But on the off-chance that platform influences other parts of Kaidan’s, or Ashley and Liara’s, I thought it was worth mentioning. It should also be said that, obviously, these are all using the original games as a basis, though I am not expecting MELE to change any of this.

I will also be using both my Kaidan transcript and Ashley transcript as reference for their dialogue. I recommend following along there if you find Tumblr’s formatting confusing.

Final note before we begin: this post is not an open invitation to hate on any of these characters. ME1 is turning 14 this year and ME3 recently turned 9. Anything you have to say about these characters and their romance mechanics has already been beaten to death, brought back to life, and beaten to death again. No one wants to hear it, least of all me. Please keep your comments to yourself and be civil.

KAIDAN

“I WANT TO AVOID TRIGGERING IT ENTIRELY, WHAT DO I DO?”

Kaidan’s romance can be triggered after the first main mission has been completed. For many players, I imagine this is Therum, but it really doesn’t matter which mission it is.

Kaidan will prompt the conversation, as he will for every other post-main mission conversation so long as his romance remains active. This conversation will be about his time at Brain Camp. You can read the conversation in his transcript if you find it easier to follow along, though I have done my best to format this post as cleanly as possible.

KAIDAN: Commander, do you have a minute?

SHEPARD: (You can choose whatever dialogue option you want. It makes no difference yet.)

KAIDAN: Off the record, I think there’s something wrong here. This Saren is looking for records on some kind of galactic extinction, but we can’t get backup from the Council? Sorry, Commander. There’s writing on the wall here, but someone isn’t reading it.

SHEPARD: (Again, you may choose whatever dialogue option you want. It still makes no difference yet.)

>FIRST CHANCE TO AVOID THE ROMANCE<

KAIDAN: I hear ya. It - It just seems like a group that’s been around as long as the Council should see this coming. It’s funny. We finally get out here and the final frontier was already settled. And the residents don’t even seem impressed by the view...or the dangers.

SHEPARD (Renegade - Zip it, Lieutenant.): I’m sure your letters home are very poignant. Just keep this kind of sentimentality out of the CIC.

KAIDAN: Yes, ma’am. Sorry to have wasted your time. I’m right about the mission, though. I know it. (The conversation will end here and his romance will not trigger.)

>SECOND CHANCE TO AVOID THE ROMANCE<

SHEPARD (Paragon - Cute way to look at it./Neutral - An old-fashioned view.): Well, well. You’re a romantic. Did you sign on “for the dream,” Alenko? Secure man’s future in space?

KAIDAN: Heh, yeah, I read a lot of those books when I was a kid. Where the hero goes to space to prove himself worthy of a woman he loves. Or, you know. For justice. Maybe I was a romantic in the beginning. But I thought about it after Brain Camp - ah, sorry, “Biotic Acclimation and Temperance training.” I’m not looking for “the dream.” I just want to do some good. See what’s out here. Sorry if I got too informal. Protocol wasn’t a big focus back in BAaT.

SHEPARD (Renegade - Just be ready.): I trust you won’t have any questions when whatever’s coming hits the fan?

KAIDAN: None. I’m not questioning the mission. I’m just concerned. Sorry to have wasted your time, ma’am. It won’t happen again. (The conversation will end here and his romance will not trigger.)

The final chance to cut off Kaidan’s romance before it triggers happens after Shepard asks him about Brain Camp. This opens up a lot of investigation options and you may exhaust all of them. If you want to avoid hearing Kaidan imply that he thinks your Shepard is attractive, avoid the “Time to talk, then./Time to “get physical,” then.” investigation options. Once Kaidan is done speaking about Brain Camp, you will get one final chance to avoid his romance.

>THIRD CHANCE TO AVOID THE ROMANCE<

KAIDAN: Anyway. This was supposed to be a casual debrief, not a bull session about stuff that happened years ago.

SHEPARD (Renegade - You’re right.): I pretty much gave up waiting for the good part.

KAIDAN: Bad habit, ma’am. I do tend to run off at the mouth. I will work on it for my next review. Sorry to have wasted your time, ma’am. It won’t happen again. (The conversation ends and his romance does not trigger.)

You will notice all of these are renegade options. There is literally no way around this if you want to avoid triggering Kaidan’s romance. You don’t get any renegade points from them, and Kaidan does not treat you negatively in the ensuing post-main mission talks.

Here is an easy way to tell if Kaidan’s romance remains active. Conversations between him and Shepard will end like this:

SHEPARD: We’ll talk later, Kaidan.

KAIDAN: I’d like that.

“I’VE ALREADY TRIGGERED IT, HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS?”

The good news is that getting out of the romance is fairly simple. The game gives you a lot of opportunities before it triggers the love triangle with Liara (assuming her romance has also been triggered, anyway).

If Kaidan’s romance was triggered, you will have an opportunity at the beginning of his second and third post-main mission talks. These are a bit more complex to transcribe, so I really recommend just reading them in my transcription if you need the exact dialogue options to understand.

But the gist: You can’t go wrong with choosing the renegade dialogue options. This is always the dialogue option that will end his romance. You are almost never going to end his romance with a paragon or neutral dialogue option. He will always prompt this conversation by wondering if he’s gotten his signals mixed up, if there’s someone else you’d rather spend time with, if he’s being too casual, etc. Once he does this, just shoot him down with a renegade dialogue option.

Again: you get no renegade points from this. He will not treat you negatively in the ensuing post-main mission talks.

Here is an example. This one occurs in his second post-main mission talk if Liara’s romance hasn’t been triggered:

KAIDAN: I’m just saying...try to leave yourself a way out. I’ve seen what cutting corners can do and I’d hate to have that happen to you, Shepard. Commander.

SHEPARD (Renegade - I don’t need approval.): I’m your commanding officer, Alenko. Are you questioning the way I handle things?

KAIDAN: No, Commander. Just concerned about the reception of the brass if things go sour. I apologize for bringing it up. I know we’re getting the job done.

SHEPARD: (You can choose whatever response you like; they all lead to the romance ending.)

If you have repeatedly not broken off the romance with Kaidan after a certain point and Liara’s romance is also active, it will trigger the love triangle scene. This is one of the last points you have to break off Kaidan’s romance, but it will lock you into Liara’s romance instead. If you are wanting a no-romance run, I recommend choosing one of the other options instead.

There is also a separate way to end the romance outside these three opportunities. In the third post-main mission talk, you must pick the dialogue option that triggers the argument that can “renegade” Kaidan’s opinion on the Council. You must not choose the charm or intimidate option here, and you must then pick the renegade dialogue options. The conversation should go like this:

KAIDAN: So yeah, I hated that turian. But he wasn’t “a turian” to me. He was Vyrnnus.

SHEPARD (Renegade - All turians are the same.): You can’t deny the turians are imperialists. And the asari, the salarians - they’re manipulators.

KAIDAN: Shepard, I outgrew the blame game years ago. If the Alliance is missing its chance, it’s because of men like Udina. Not the rest of the galaxy holding it back.

SHEPARD (Renegade - I’m not so sure.): When anyone out here listens to us, the Council starts up with their treaties and heel-dragging. We can only rely on ourselves.

KAIDAN: We’re not doing the galaxy any favors if we try to force our way into a seat at the grown-up table. They aren’t - malicious. They’re just slow to change. My story doesn’t get any better if Vyrnnus is a good guy.

SHEPARD (Renegade - Whose side are you on?): I don’t need you kissing the Council’s asses, too.

KAIDAN: Look, Shepard. You’re in command, and we’ll all follow your lead. But don’t ream me out for having an opinion. I thought we respected each other more than that.

SHEPARD (Renegade - I can’t respect this.): I can’t believe you’d side with aliens over your own kind. I think we’re done here.

KAIDAN: Yeah, I think we are. It’s--It’s too bad we...It’s just too bad, Commander.

This argument will end his romance. He will also not be renegaded. This is obviously a much more convoluted way to end his romance, but I’m throwing the option out there because it’s 1) hilarious, and 2) way more dramatic, if you want to roleplay ending the romance for whatever reason.

MISCELLANEOUS

Depending on the dialogue options you take for the scenic view on the Citadel, Kaidan will always flirt with you. This does not lock you into, or even trigger, his romance. It is entirely possible to not have him flirt with you at all in this scene, and still initiate the romance later. But if you do not want him to flirt with you, simply do this:

[image ID: ME1’s subtitles showing Ashley saying “Or maybe they just don’t like humans.” with the dialogue wheel below it giving the following dialogue choices, starting from the top: “What’s not to like?”, “Let’s move out.”, and “That’s enough, you two.” end ID]

When you get to this part of the scenic view cutscene, choose any dialogue option but the top “What’s not to like?” one.

Also, even if you’ve already avoided or shut down Kaidan’s romance, Liara will still ask if there’s something between the two of you if her romance is active. Tell her that there isn’t (because there isn’t). Her saying this does not re-trigger Kaidan’s romance.

Congratulations, you have now survived ME1’s romance mechanics. Enjoy experiencing unromanced Kaidan for the rest of the game.

ME3 BONUS: “OKAY, WHAT ABOUT HIM FLIRTING WITH ME IN THE HOSPITAL THOUGH?”

I have tested both of these personally multiple times and they have always worked for me, but again: see my warning about different platforms at the beginning of this post. If it doesn’t work for you, please let me know.

If you have not romanced Kaidan previously: don’t buy him the alcohol as a present. That’s it.

If you have romanced Kaidan previously: on Mars, tell him your relationship is over. It is a renegade dialogue option, but it is necessary to avoid the flirtation in the hospital. This route also means that you can buy him the alcohol and he will still not flirt with you.

Please note that going renegade on Mars does not lock you out of his romance. It merely prevents him from assuming you’re interested during your hospital visit.

ME3 BONUS: “OKAY, WHAT ABOUT HIS APOLLO’S PROPOSITION THOUGH?”

This only happens if you have not locked in your romance with your preferred love interest first. For Garrus, this is the bottle shooting date. For Tali and Traynor, it’s inviting her up to your cabin. For Liara and Miranda, it’s her Presidium date. So on and so forth.

This means there is no way around it if you romanced Jacob or Thane and do not want to pursue a different romance after them. If you do get this scene: again, just turn him down. It is never brought up again. He does not act like he’s in love with you going forth. You will get his unromanced date in the Citadel DLC, as well as his unromanced London goodbye.

ASHLEY

“I WANT TO AVOID TRIGGERING IT ENTIRELY, WHAT DO I DO?”

Ashley’s romance can be triggered after the first main mission has been completed. For many players, I imagine this is Therum, but it really doesn’t matter which mission it is.

Ashley will prompt the conversation, as she will for every other post-main mission conversation so long as her romance remains active. This conversation will be about her concerns about the aliens aboard the Normandy.

Note: Ashley has one less opportunity to avoid triggering her romance in the first post-main mission talk compared to Kaidan. You may also read the conversation in her transcript if you find it easier to follow along, though I have done my best to format this post as cleanly as possible.

ASHLEY: Commander. You have a minute to talk?

SHEPARD: (You can choose whatever dialogue option you want. It makes no difference yet.)

ASHLEY: I know things are different aboard the Normandy, but - I'm concerned about the aliens. Vakarian and Wrex. With all due respect, Commander, should they have full access to the ship?

SHEPARD: (Again, you can choose whatever dialogue option you want. It still makes no difference yet.)

>FIRST CHANCE TO AVOID THE ROMANCE<

ASHLEY: This is the most advanced ship in the Alliance Navy. I don't think we should give them free reign to poke around the vital systems. Engines. Sensors. Weapons.

SHEPARD (Side - You're out of line!): That's enough, Chief. You always second-guess your superiors?

ASHLEY: Sir! No, sir! I'm sorry. I was out of line. I'll get back to my duties, Commander. (The conversation will end and her romance will not trigger.)

If you do not pick the above option, Ashley will elaborate her stance further until you get to the dialogue wheel with the second (and final) chance to avoid her romance.

>SECOND CHANCE TO AVOID THE ROMANCE<

ASHLEY: My family's defended the Alliance since it was founded. My father, my grandfather, my great-grandmother - they all picked up a rifle and swore the Oath of Service. I guess we just tend to think of Earth's interests as our own.

SHEPARD (Renegade - Just shut up.): I expect you to keep your family politics to yourself, Chief. The mission will be difficult enough without you picking fights with aliens.

ASHLEY: Aye, aye, Commander. (The conversation will end and her romance will not trigger.)

Note: You can still pick the investigation dialogue options that discusses her service and family history. You just have to pick the renegade dialogue option outlined above afterward, instead of any other option.

Like with Kaidan, you do not get any renegade points for picking this option and Ashley does not treat you negatively in the ensuing post-main mission talks.

Here is an easy way to tell if Ashley’s romance remains active. Conversations between her and Shepard will end with the following:

SHEPARD: We'll talk later, Williams.

ASHLEY: Looking forward to it, sir.

“I’VE ALREADY TRIGGERED IT, HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS?”

Admittedly, you have fewer easy opportunities to end Ashley’s romance than you do Kaidan’s, and most of the early game ones require Liara’s romance also being active. You are still offered multiple different opportunities out before the game ends, however.

If Ashley and Liara’s romances are both triggered, you will have an opportunity at the beginning of Ashley’s second and third post-main mission talks to end the romance. The gist is the same as Kaidan’s: You can’t go wrong with choosing the renegade dialogue options. This is always the dialogue option that will end her romance. You are almost never going to end her romance with a paragon or neutral dialogue option. She will always prompt this conversation by bringing up your relationship with Liara. Once she does this, just shoot her down.

Again: you get no renegade points from this. She will not treat you negatively in the ensuing post-main mission talks.

In both the second and third post-main mission talks, the conversation will go something like:

ASHLEY: Surprised to see you here, sir. Thought you’d be chatting up what’s-her-name. T’Soni.

SHEPARD: (Pick the neutral or renegade dialogue option here; they both lead to the same dialogue branch.)

ASHLEY: Scuttlebutt says you’ve got a bit of a thing for her. I could understand why. The crew’s off-limits, with the regs against fraternization. And at least she looks like a woman.

SHEPARD: (Pick the neutral or renegade dialogue option here. They both end the romance.)

One of the easier exceptions to this that doesn't require Liara’s romance being active is in the second post-main mission talk when Ashley gets Sarah’s vid-mail. It will go like this:

SARAH: - Oh, before I go. You said you’re serving with Commander Shepard now? We saw him on the news here. He’s cute! Later, sis.

ASHLEY: Tell me you didn’t hear that.

SHEPARD (Renegade - That’s unprofessional.): I don’t need to tell you it’s inappropriate to gossip about how “cute” your commanding officer is.

ASHLEY: No, sir. You don’t. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. (Conversation and romance ends.)

Please note, however, that this will lock you out of the remainder of the conversation and you will not learn about Ashley’s family.

If you have repeatedly not broken off the romance with Ashley after a certain point and Liara’s romance is also active, it will trigger the love triangle scene. This is one of the last points you have to break off Ashley’s romance, but it will lock you into Liara’s romance instead. If you are wanting a no-romance run, I recommend choosing one of the other options instead.

There is also a separate way to end the romance outside these three opportunities. In the third post-main mission talk, you must pick the dialogue option that triggers the argument that can “paragon” Ashley’s opinion on the Council. You must not choose the charm or intimidate option here, and you must then pick the renegade dialogue options. The conversation should go something like this:

ASHLEY: But hey, once we save the galaxy, maybe the Alliance will get its act together. Start acting like an actual government.

SHEPARD (Paragon - The Alliance is all right.): The Alliance isn’t perfect, but it does well enough.

ASHLEY: Have to disagree with you there, skipper. Giving aliens the run of our most advanced ship? Kowtowing to the Council?

SHEPARD (Paragon - It’s not like that.): The Alliance should be able to stand on is own. We can’t. Yet. Why not learn from the races that have been standing for the last thousand years?

ASHLEY: How can you say that, given everything we’ve seen out here? They’re already acting like Saren is our problem. Already siccing us on the bear. The Council races will always think of themselves first. It’s - human nature. We can’t afford to trust them. Not if the survival of humanity is on the line.

SHEPARD (Renegade - I’ve heard enough.): Whatever feelings I might have for you, we have to work with the Council. I can’t let you second-guess our superiors.

ASHLEY: Shepard, I’m a soldier. You’re my commander. If you give me an order, I’ll follow it. I don’t expect you to treat me differently from anyone else under your command. And if you have been - quit it. I thought you knew me better than that.

SHEPARD (Renegade - Do I?): Seems like every time we run up against aliens, you whip out the “Earth first” card. I can’t have my authority undermined.

ASHLEY: I never intended to “undermine” you, Shepard. I believe in you. I wish you’d believe in anyone but yourself. With your permission, sir, I’ll return to my duties.

This argument will end her romance. She will also not be paragoned. This is obviously a much more convoluted way to end her romance, but I’m throwing the option out there because it’s 1) hilarious (that final line, oof), and 2) way more dramatic, if you want to roleplay ending the romance for whatever reason.

MISCELLANEOUS

Like with Kaidan, depending on the dialogue options you take for the scenic view on the Citadel, Ashley will always flirt with you. This does not lock you into, or even trigger, her romance. It is entirely possible to not have her flirt with you at all in this scene, and still initiate the romance later. But if you do not want her to flirt with you, simply do this:

When you get to this part of the scenic view cutscene, choose any dialogue option but the top “What’s not to like?” one.

Also like with Kaidan, even if you’ve already avoided or shut down Ashley’s romance, Liara will still ask if there’s something between the two of you if her romance is active. Tell her that there isn’t (because there isn’t). Her saying this does not re-trigger Ashley’s romance.

Congratulations, you have now survived ME1’s romance mechanics. Enjoy experiencing unromanced Ashley for the rest of the game.

LIARA

“I WANT TO AVOID TRIGGERING IT ENTIRELY, WHAT DO I DO?”

As I mentioned in the beginning of this post, I have found no easy way around Liara’s romance. If anyone else has, I genuinely mean it when I say I would absolutely be open to you telling me, because I would love to know.

The only way to avoid triggering Liara’s romance that I have found are the following:

Simply not talking to her for most of the game (not ideal)

Completing Therum only after you’ve done at least two main missions (also not ideal since it will require Noveria being completed without her)

Completing Therum only after all the other main missions have been completed (again not ideal, though every player should at least do this once if only for the unique content you get from it)

Okay, so what if you want to complete Therum first but still avoid Liara’s romance? I have found one way to accomplish this, but it requires you to be in a romance with Kaidan (or presumably Ashley, but I have only tested this with Kaidan).

After you recruit Liara, you may check up on her in the med-bay but do not initiate conversation after that. If she prompts you by saying, “I get the feeling you want to ask me something, Commander,” do not pick the yellowed dialogue option:

[image ID: ME1′s subtitles showing Liara saying, “I get the feeling you want to ask me something, Commander.” with the dialogue wheel showing the following options: “Investigate”, a yellowed option above “Investigate” labeled “I’d like to talk about you.”, and “Goodbye.” end ID.]

After you complete another main mission, you can check back in with Liara and speak to her normally. This conversation should be the one you’d normally get after Therum, where you learn about why she likes archaeology and how she finds Shepard fascinating.

After you complete another main mission, you must talk to Kaidan or Ashley first. To clarify: at this point you should be at the post-third main mission mark. For Kaidan, you will be getting the “Vyrnnus and Rahna” talk that you can read in his transcript; for Ashley, you will be getting the “Williams Curse” talk that you can read in her transcript.

After you speak with Kaidan or Ashley, you may speak with Liara as normal. This conversation should be picking up on where you left off last time. Liara will talk about how she’s looked into Shepard’s history and Shepard can press her for why she’s so interested in them. Liara should then say something like the following lines:

LIARA: I admit, your connection to the Protheans had something to do with my initial interest. But it has grown beyond that. My interest in you, however, is strictly professional. I want to make that clear. It is obvious you and Lt. Alenko already have some type of relationship. I would not want to come between you.

Her romance will not trigger for the rest of the game.

Please note: Again, I have only tested this with Kaidan. But it should, in theory, work the exact same for Ashley considering many of hers and Kaidan’s other romance mechanics are identical.

“THAT’S NICE, BUT HOW DO I END HER ROMANCE IF IT’S ALREADY TRIGGERED?”

You will follow the same steps as in Kaidan and Ashley’s portions. When she prompts you with whether or not there’s anything between the two of you, you must turn her down. You can never go wrong with the renegade dialogue options here. Again: you get no renegade points for it, and Liara treats you no differently going forth.

She will also usually bring up Kaidan or Ashley depending on what Shepard you are playing, and mention that it seems like there’s something between the two of you even when you do not have their romance active. If you aren’t romancing the VS, just tell her that she’s got it wrong, because...she does. It does not re-trigger either of their romances.

YES I AM ALMOST DONE TALKING

The game really does give you ample opportunities to avoid or end the romances (which is only fair considering how easy they are to trip), so hopefully I have outlined at least one you are comfortable taking.

There are other ways to end both Kaidan and Ashley’s romance that I did not mention (such as during the locker scene, or if you try to un-paragon/renegade) - the point of no return you mainly have to worry about is en route to Ilos. I imagine most players will have their romances sorted out by then, though, so I’m not sure it’s worth mentioning unless you’re wanting to do it purely for roleplay reasons. (In which case: you may read those in their respective transcripts if you’re curious.)

I cannot say I have tested every single romance cut-off, but I have tested most of the important ones players are most likely to take. I am assuming the romances are cut off based on the fact Shepard and the VS’ farewells will change depending on their romanced status (as I outlined in their respective sections), which I do feel is a safe bet. But if you try one of these and find that it did not end the romance: I’m sorry, and please do let me know (and also what platform you play on).

If you read all of this: thank you for your time, and I hope you find this guide useful!

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #ashley williams #liara t'soni #shenko #shepley #shiara #okay perhaps this post will show up in the tags eventually but it certainly is not for now #which makes this post utterly pointless but whatever hopefully it still gets spread around #edit: this post is showing up in the tags now thanks everyone who reblogged!

683 notes · View notes

thebookreader12345 · 4 years ago

Text

New Doc in Town

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: Y/N is the newest doctor in the ED, and when Jay meets her for the first time, he feels something he hasn’t felt since Erin left

Requested: Yes, by anonymous

Warnings: slight swearing, mention of a minor injury

Word Count: 1,561 Words

Note: Y/FC means your favorite color

I had only been at Chicago Med for a few weeks now. I used to work over at Lakeside Memorial, but transferred due to Med’s lack of ED docs. I was hesitant about it at first, but I’ve come to like my new workplace. Everyone was super welcoming, and after my first week, it already felt like home. I was currently standing at the nurses’ station looking down at my tablet, and that’s when a cute guy I had never seen before walked into the ED and glanced around.

“Uh, Maggie, could you let Natalie know that our patient’s scans are up?” I question.

“Sure thing, Y/N,” Maggie responded as I put my tablet away.

“Great. Thank you,” I tell her before walking over to the man, who seemed to be clutching his side. “Um, excuse me? Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah. Is Will here?” the man asked.

“You mean Dr. Halstead? He’s working today, but he’s currently on his lunch break,” I reply. “Did you need me to get him for you?”

“No,” the man spoke a little too quickly. “I’m trying to avoid him, actually. He’s my brother. I’m Jay.”

“Right. Will has mentioned you a few times. I’m Y/N,” I greet.

“Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around before,” Jay stated.

“Uh, I just started a few weeks ago. Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re in pain,” I point out.

“I hurt my ribs at work, and my boss won’t let me come back until I get checked out by a doctor. I didn’t want Will to worry, so I was hoping to stop by while he was busy,” Jay explained.

“Well, Dr. Manning and Dr. Choi are with patients at the moment, and Will is at lunch, so I guess you’re stuck with me. Come on,” I say and lead him to one of the empty trauma rooms. Before I could even ask, Jay pulled his shirt over his head and sat down on the bed. “So you’ve done this before then?”

Jay laughed. “Many, many times. If Med had a frequent flyer list, I’d be on it. I guess it’s what I get for being a cop.” A small smile played at my lips as I put on some hand sanitizer, and when I turned around, I caught sight of Jay’s abs, and let me just say that they were amazing. I tried not to stare for too long, and thankfully, Jay didn’t notice because he was too busy looking around the room.

“Did you get hit by a bus or something?” I ask jokingly as I examined the fairly large bruise on his side.

“Not exactly. I tackled a guy to the ground and hit my side pretty hard on some concrete,” Jay answered.

“Well, at least you caught the guy. Does this hurt?” I question and press gently against his side, earning a wince from Jay. “Okay. How about this?” I pressed a different spot and earned the exact same response, meaning I was on to something.

“That one hurt way worse,” Jay breathed out.

“I can tell. Do you mind?” I ask and pull my stethoscope from my coat pocket.

“Not at all,” Jay replied. I pressed the end of the stethoscope to Jay’s lungs and listened as he breathed in an out. I didn’t hear anything unusual, which meant I had my diagnosis.

“I’m not hearing any air escaping from your lungs, which means you didn’t puncture a lung, and I didn’t feel any breaks. You’ve just got a couple of bruised ribs. If they are fractured, they’ll heal over time, but it’s nothing too serious,” I inform him. “Did you want me to prescribe some pain medication?”

“I’m good, but thank you. Hey, if you don’t mind, could we keep this between us? I don’t want Will freaking out over nothing,” Jay spoke.

I smiled. “I won’t tell a soul. It was nice meeting you, Jay.”

“Yeah. It was nice meeting you too, Y/N. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime,” Jay said and put his shirt back on.

“Maybe you will,” I counter.

A Few Weeks Later...

My relationship with Jay had only grown since we had met in the ED. I went out to Molly’s with him and Will a lot these days, and I had also been to his apartment to watch hockey games sometimes. I felt some sort of connection with Jay, and I really hoped he felt the same way, which is why I hadn’t made a move yet. Will told me Jay had recently gotten out of a long relationship with a woman named Erin, so I didn’t want to push him, especially if he didn’t like me the way I liked him.

“Oh come on! You’re not giving him a penalty for that? That’s bullshit!” Jay shouted at the TV, where a hockey game was playing. Will, Jay, and I were all hanging out at Jay’s apartment watching the hockey game and eating pizza, and lets just say the Blackhawks were losing.

“It’s getting late. I should get going so I can get some sleep before my shift tomorrow. You staying?” Will asked me.

“I don’t have a shift tomorrow, and the game is still on. Of course I’m staying. Besides, if I don’t stay, I fear that Jay will end up throwing the remote at the TV and busting it so...” I trail off.

“All right. Bye Jay,” Will spoke and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye, Will,” Jay said and waved to his brother who then left the apartment. “Hey, you want a beer?”

“Sure,” I reply. Jay got off of the couch and walked into the kitchen, coming back seconds later with two beer bottles, one of which he handed to me. “Thanks. So, how’s work been?”

“Oh, you know, catching bad guys, getting bad dope off the street. The usual,” Jay answered. “How about you?”

“It’s been okay I guess. If you’re wondering if I’ve had any patients handsomer than you though, the answer is no,” I state.

Jay laughed and took a sip of beer. “That was actually going to be my next question.”

“Which is why I answered it without you even asking. I know you so well,” I joke.

“Now that I think about it, we know less about each other than we believe. Lets play 20 questions,” Jay suggested.

“Okay,” I agree and turn my body so that I faced him. “You go first.”

“All right. What’s you favorite color?” Jay asked.

“Y/FC,” I commented. “Favorite food?”

“Easy. Steak,” Jay responded. “How many parties did you go to when you were in college and med school?”

I laughed and took a sip of beer. “Too many. Why’d you become a cop?”

Jay hesitated. “I uh, I guess it was because I still wanted to feel like I was helping out the country, you know? Serving in the Rangers was amazing and all, but I didn’t want that to be what defined my life. So, I signed up for the police academy so that I could do a little good for this city. It’s a boring answer, I know.”

“I don’t think it’s boring. It’s actually pretty cool. My answer to why I became a doctor is the boring one. Someone in my family got sick, and there was nothing I could do to help them, so I figured I’d become a doctor so that I could help other people get better,” I tell Jay. “Now, I think it’s your turn to ask a question.”

“Right. Oh. Here’s a good one. Have you ever had a crush on a co-worker?” Jay questioned.

“No, but I have had a crush on a co-worker’s brother. I still do,” I reply. Right after I said that, I could feel my cheeks heat up, because I realized I was talking about Jay, and he was right in front of me. “What about you?”

“I have, obviously, because of Erin and all, but at the moment I don’t. I do, however, have a crush on one of my brother’s co-workers,” Jay disclosed.

“Anyone I know?” I ask. The chances that Jay liked me were slim, but I was really hoping that was the case here.

“I think so, yeah. She was the doctor that helped me out when I injured my ribs, and that was when we first met,” Jay informed me.

I smiled when I registered that Jay was talking about me. “How surprised would you be if I told you that you’re the co-worker’s brother that I have a crush on?”

“Not surprised at all,” Jay murmured and leaned forward, connecting our lips. I was shocked at first, because I didn’t think Jay would kiss me, but after a few seconds, I kissed back, relishing the feeling of Jay’s lips on mine. The kiss wasn’t super long, and when we pulled away from each other, I was wanting more.

“Wow,” I breathe out. “I was not expecting that, but I’m glad it happened.”

“Me too,” Jay grinned. “Hey, how would you like to go out for a date next weekend?”

“Sounds perfect. But right now, I’d really like it if you kissed me again,” I say.

“I won’t argue with that,” Jay spoke before leaning in and kissing me again.

______________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13 @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

#one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead imagines #intelligence unit #district 21 #chicago med #will halstead #halstead brothers

572 notes · View notes

iwantutobehapppier · 4 years ago

Text

We Will Wake Up

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader Summary: Steve and Bucky seemed to be everywhere you looked, certainly this familiarity between the three of you would only bode well when you seek refuge at their place during the Shutdown. Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Steve Rogers, somnophilia, dubcon bordering on noncon. Please if any of this bothers you read no further. There will be more fics for Festival of Smut with little to no dark themes. Word Count: 2,536 A/N: Happy 2nd night of Chanukah! I give you some dark/creep Steve. I have been tinkering with this one for a long time now. @sapphirescrolls really helped fuel this along with Tyler by the Toadies.

You know Steve’s there. He’s always there now. He knows you know. He parades around as if his presence is pure coincidence. It is equal parts laughable and concerning.

Looking out the corner of your eye you catch the tall bulky frame of his best friend Bucky beside him as they wait for their coffee. Bucky a man of little flourish in coffee grabs his cup and sits right across from you at the table outside of the little coffee shop. Outside seating more comfortable for you given the current pandemic. But your two shadows didn’t have any worry about the pandemic with the Super Soldier Serum.

Steve and Bucky were great people. Working with them when it came to PR had its challenges but overall a joy. Not only that but you were pleased to become friends with them. That was months ago. Now they were showing up everywhere you went outside of the regular

Compound encounters. However, you had noticed Steve was sans his pal more often than not in recent encounters.

“You should stay in the compound with us,” Bucky offers a solution to your current dilemma. You frown at his suggestion. Steve’s waiting for his drink inside of the coffee shop they both happened to show up to this morning.

A coffee shop you had never gone to before in an attempt to test your theory about being possibly followed. The results, worrisome

“I mean,” Bucky leans over his cup keeping eye contact. “You’ve said it yourself, they’re starting the shutdown soon and you’re not sure how long you can spend being completely alone.” You look away at his intense gaze only to catch Steve’s eye as he sits next to you at the four top.

“What are you two talking about?” An easy smile falls over Steve’s face before he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Just that she should stay with us,” Steve nearly spits out his drink, and Buck chuckles at his expense. “You know, staying with us would be much more entertaining than being alone.” Bucky leans over the table looks at Steve directly when he stops.

Steve nods his head, taking the lead.

“You know the Compound ground fairly well,” Steve continues. “It’ll be fully stocked to last the shutdown and then some.”

Nibbling on your bottom lip in equal worry and contemplation you worked out in your head, ways to refuse the offer without coming off as a heinous bitch.

“Wouldn’t you guys be coming and going during missions?” You scrunched your face up. “I think that would put me at risk of contagion.”

“That’s the greatest part about it,” Bucky leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “We’ll be there too. Unless the worst happens, and then we’ll get testing to make sure we’re not carriers before we come back home,” he pauses looking at Steve then you, “to you.”

Steve clears his throat shifting in his seat you tilt your head to the side watching him. “Are you okay Steve?”

“Mm?” he looks directly at you for longer than fleeting seconds. “Yes,” he pauses. “I really think you should consider the offer.” His hand rests on your knee, the heat emitting off him almost too much for the end of March in New York City.

“We have a spare room in our apartment there,” He watches you nibble on your lip once again, he shifts to Bucky who just nods his head towards you. “We’ll get it set up just the way you want and I swear we won’t leave dishes in the sink.”

Bucky chuckles, “I agreed to no such thing,” Steve cuts his eyes at his pal. “Fine,” Bucky huffs folding his arms over his chest pouting.

You can’t help but laugh at the two of them, much like a married couple. Maybe having their banter around would be helpful to ease the worrisome a pandemic causes? Perhaps the following was because the two had so few friends outside the compound as is and they’ve often said how welcoming you make them feel. Without letting yourself fret any more over the decision you made your choice.

“Okay,” you nodded your head, Steve’s hand on you clasping around your knee. “When can I move in?”

The smile that illuminates Steve’s face bright enough to light up the sky of NYC you were sure of it. However, the grip on your knee makes something in your hindbrain whisper “Be careful.”

You had been doing so well, it was a month in and the situation was proving rewarding for all parties. You had a nice state of the art abode, they had a personal chef in you and you all had each other for company.

Working from home was not an issue at all, they left you alone when you were working. You only saw them when you’d pause for lunch, where they always seemed to in the kitchen waiting for you. After work would normally be some type of movie to watch for them to catch up, sharing music or the rare occasion Steve drawing you as you read.

It was nice and oddly domestic bliss but it seemed to change one drunken night when you kissed Steve. It wasn’t meant to be anything, you were drunk feeling good and he was making you feel good. With his compliments and attention before you knew it your lips were on his. He didn’t respond which left you feeling completely foolish.

Not that you wanted anything to happen between you and Steve, you didn’t, right? He was handsome, and god knows he was packing with what your eyes have beheld when he comes back from his work on in his grey sweats. So maybe you did? Or was it the cabin fever?

However, after that, it’s a fat chance anything would happen as he avoided you the next day. Bucky told you it was just his nerves that “He’s never had a hot dame like you into him.”

Luck was on your side two nights later when Steve ventured out of his room for a movie night. A romance on no less, and Bucky suspiciously dipping out early claiming he was exhausted. That left you and Steve miles apart on the couch until Steve slid down to your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He pulled you close and when you tried to pull back for some space for civility you couldn’t budge him.

When the romantic duo of the film finally kiss you can’t help but look at Steve from the corner of your eye. Steve is staring at you, a light blush on his cheeks. He leans forward, and before you know what’s happening his lips are on yours. You’re quite shocked given the drunken kiss you gave him.

It takes only a moment for your lips to soften on his. The pleased sigh he emits warming your body up almost more than the kiss. With tentative movement, his tongue trails only your bottom lip, and your open your mouth on reflex. Then the flood gates are open, he’s pulling you into his lap, arms holding you secure as you both make up for the last quarter of the film.

As the credits roll you finally part, lips chapped and swollen. You feel your cheeks warm as you look away. Well, this certainly wasn’t your plan. Steve clears his throat and you look back at him.

“I had wanted to do that for a while,” You give a shy smile in response.

“I think,” you pull yourself off his lap. “It was worth the wait and just enough.” Needing to keep your distance before you let this go farther than it should. Sleeping with someone who was kindly housing you rent-free was not the smartest move in your opinion.

Steve nods in agreement though his brow furrow with agitation. He was fairly certain his night would go somewhere else and the uncomfortable tightness of his pants had to be dealt with.

“I suppose you’re right,” he shifts on the couch and you pretend not to see the bulge in his pants that you had without a doubt felt just a moment underneath you. “I say we call it a night.” Steve veining confidence to take control of the night.

Nodding in agreement. “Good night Steve,” as you go to turn he stands up and grabs your wrist pulling you into him capturing your lips one last time.

Letting you go when you pull apart he smiles. “Just had to have one more,” tucking your hair behind your ear you can’t help but smile, “Sweet dreams.” He releases your hand as you turn once more to retreat to your room.

His eyes glower at your disappearing figure, eyes tracing the flare of your hips and lush back side. He wasn’t sure he could wait for another night to continue this path you two were on. One he desperately wanted.

You were awake and abruptly so.

You felt, full? Oddly so? An ache and stretch in your lower abdomen the first sensations as you wake up. Then it’s the way you feel your pelvis flex against something. Eyes opening the room is still dark, your eyelids feel heavier than usual when awoken in the night. Are you sitting upright? What’s the warmth radiating at your back?

Warm muscular arms wrap around your body from behind, you yelp in fear. Your bareback is forced against a fuzzy chest. Wait, are you naked? Thick thighs flex below you and that ache in your lower abdomen is clearly all the way to your pelvis becomes clear. Your gasping for breath as panic sets in, your voice cracks in your attempts to call out for help. Who is this?

“Ssshh,” lips press against the shell of your ear. You’re cocooned in warmth and you’ve never been more afraid in your life. This sensation should be comforting but-

“Knew you’d feel so tight around me,” You’re bounced up by the thighs beneath, and the moan that pulls from your lips is involuntary. The thick cock lodged so deep inside you feel too good. It shouldn’t feel this good. The bulbous cock head brushing against that special spot with each re-entry.

“Ste-Steve?” you get out between your shock and pleasure. He holds you down, still as can be, you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your back. Lips the press against your ear slowly trails down your neck resting at the nape. His breath pushes hot air across your bare chest with a forceful exhale.

“It’s me,” His words a whisper on your skin. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” You try to find his words comforting, recalling how gentle he is with you, how attentive and soft the first kiss was earlier this night. How had it escalated so quickly?

Your nails dig into his forearms, his large hands holding your waist lifting you up and down as if you were light as a feather. It was disorienting. He drops you down and as your mouth opens his large sweaty palm mutes your scream.

“Normally,” Steve grunts pushing up into you. “I’d want to hear your beautiful voice,” He lifts you once more, his hands so warm and tight against your skin. His super strength made you feel like a sack of potato at the most. Slowly lowering you down his pulsing shaft you can feel the way he pulls at your walls, the sponge feel of the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.

“But I don’t want Buck to hear.” He grunts pushing his hips up and down, his thighs moving you without your aid. “These noises are mine.” He growls. His hand slips from your mouth to between your slick folds to rub softly against your little nub.

When you inhale to moan Steve shushes you, resulting in you bitting your lip trying to muffle your moans. “That’s my good girl,” his words warm against your skin as he sets a steady pressure on your nub in a circular motion.

Your walls fluttering around him he muffles his groan. “Fuck, baby girl,” his fingers digging into your hip. Steve’s hands move to lift you up, almost completely off his cock the wide tip sitting at the opening. For a brief moment, you think it’s over whatever this violation of your body is.

Then you’re falling, the push of his thick and long shaft into you makes your head jerk back. His chin resting on your forehead. Steve’s bulging arms wrap around you resting under your breast. “You feel me here?” a hand slips down to push on your lower abdomen. A soft moan pulling from your lips at the feeling.

Looking down you gasp seeing the slight bulge, no wonder it felt like he was splitting you in two. Watching the hand slip down further, two fingers slide down to capture your clit, giving a gentle squeeze. Your body shakes, biting your lip to hold in a moan tilting your head back once more.

Your hands grip his large forearm trying to pull his hand back. The sensory overload too much from being woken up in such a jarring manner. Trying to get hold of whether you wanted this or not was becoming difficult with each touch.

Steve tut’s in your ear, his hand pulling back to slap your pussy. Your whimper following the slapping noise. “Don’t hide how much you’ve been wanting this.” He bends his head, lips resting on your forehead. Then touch intimate and far more gentle than what he is doing with your body.

“I know you’ve been waiting so patiently for me to fill your pussy,” His crass words scrap against your forehead. You go to shake your head but pause when he rotates his hips.

“It’s okay,” his tone saccharine, “We’ve got plenty of time to make it up before Bucky wakes up.”

#steve rogers x reader #dark steve rgoers #dark!steverogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #dubcon #smut #Captain America #Steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers x you

581 notes · View notes

allmightluver · 5 years ago

Text

All Might’s Mental Health is Declining

Toshinori Yagi wanted to be a hero, wanted to help people ever since he was a boy

and with Nana’s help, the quirkless kid got his wish.

But being a hero isn’t for the weak of heart. You’re going to fail. People are going to be hurt. And ultimately, you’ll be alone. Toshinori had to learn this quickly in his life as Nana, his mother figure, died for him at an early age.

The other person in his life, Gran Torino, trained him to the best of his abilities, but was a no nonsense, brutal teacher.

His methods were effective, but scarring, as Toshinori has been terrified of him ever sense.

He was sent to America on his own to develop his quirk, where he eventually learned to become a hero. But again, that meant work was his life, and he had no social life. Sure he was popular with the media, but as far as developing a lot of personal relationships, he wouldn’t have time for them. Plus, as typical of a hero, in order to keep everyone safe, All Might couldn’t be seen with people he was close to. He most likely kept himself busy the majority of the time to keep from being lost in his own thoughts. People need companions, it’s part of our make up. Toshinori’s surely had to have been a very lonely life.

And then All for One happened. And defeating him almost killed Toshinori, in fact, there’s no good reason he’s still alive, other than to pass on One For All, he should be dead. *Warning graphic details following*

All for One said himself (English Translation), “A wounded hero is a most frightening animal. Do you know that even now, I sometimes dream of you charging at me with your entrails strewn across the ground.” His entrails. His internal organs. All Might was gravely wounded, yet he still forced himself to fight All For One, even while the hole in his side freely leaked his own body’s contents. In the picture above, All Might kneels above All For One’s lifeless body in a pool of blood, a mixture of both their blood. AFO’s head crushed.

I cannot stress enough the mental impact of this singular event. All Might stood for absolutely NO killing. He would resolve conflict while being careful NOT to kill or even critically hurt anyone. But in this instance, Toshinori killed a man. And the way he did, crushing a man’s head with his bare hands until the skull gave way and his brains were scattered on the pavement below. For someone who believes in no killing, this was a brutal execution. One that, unfortunately, had to happen for the safety of the world, and only All Might was capable of doing it.

This alone must have severely messed with his head. While he lay in hospital, only capable of healing, AFO haunted his dreams and thoughts. He took another life, blood permanently staining his hands. And now he has to mentally pretend this never happened and act as if everything is fine to the public who hadn’t heard of this fight.

Despite the mental trauma from this, the physical trauma was worse. While he could fake the emotional lasting effects, he couldn’t hide the physical.

This injury took a lot more of him than just his mental stability. It took his stomach, a lung, most likely his spleen, and perhaps more internal organs. Living like this now means lots of medications. Supplements to make up for the lack of stomach, drugs to protect against infection, and pain medication to list a few. Something that big has to hurt like crazy. And all that scar tissue pulling while you try to fight? Torture. He’s most likely had countless corrective surgeries from the scar tissue alone, which only reopens the wound and leaves less and less skin to work with. You can see how caved in the scar is, indicating just how much of his body is missing. His destroyed respiratory system forces blood to fill the remaining lung he has left when he overexerts himself, which is all the time. He probably has to have blood tranfusions regularly to make up for the loss, as well as other injections to assist his body in running properly. There’s probably an oxygen tank by his bedside to help when he’s choking on his own blood in the middle of the night. His body wasting away until his very skin stretches like plastic wrap over nothing but bones. Muscles being eaten away in replacement of food.

But what sucks the most? The time he can be All Might is decreasing more every day. The one thing he’s wanted his whole life, to help people, is starting to become difficult to do. He has to hide his true form from the public, he doesn’t want them to fear for their lives if he can’t help anymore. Now he spends more and more time in his own mind because he can’t distract himself anymore. And what’s worse than the mental pain is the physical accompanying it.

Now BESIDES all this happening, we also have Nighteye’s betrayal. Sir, the man who was his sidekick for years, the guy he’s probably been able to grow the closest to, betrays All Might’s trust and looks into his future. And what does he see?

In six to seven years, Toshinori will meet a villain, and meet a gruesome demise. The betrayal makes him and Nighteye go separate ways, losing a friend.

Now with his declining health and the death sentence hanging over his head, Toshinori has to think about what he hoped he wouldn’t for years yet. He needs a successor. Someone to give this power to before it’s too late.

Insert Izuku.

A young, quirkless boy who just wants to help people. Sounds familiar. Izuku is an obvious choice despite everyone telling Toshinori he’s not the right fit. (Like Nighteye whom Toshinori tried to tell, but was only shot down.) So once he hands over One for All to Izuku, the problem, despite the boy destroying himself as he tries to use it and Toshinori being unsure how to help him, is that his power is decreasing even faster now. Which, of course, is to be expected, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to deal with. His time limit is drawn shorter and shorter until All for One starts to make a reappearance.

So not only did Toshinori not kill him, all the trauma he went through was for nothing, but now the world is in danger, again. And he doesn’t know if he can help them. Which means he has to involve his young ward in this mess that killed his mentor, almost killed him, and could potentially kill the boy as well.

So he tells Izuku of the origin of One for All and All for One. But he doesn’t tell the boy that by the time Izuku fights this guy, Toshinori won’t be around anymore.

He doesn’t let on how much the power is draining out of his body, and doesn’t enlighten the boy on his own upcoming death. Which unfortunately means he has to lie and give Izuku a false sense of security.

And then, All for One shows up.

And this time, All Might’s true form is exposed to the public. His weakness. Now the world knows that All Might isn’t invincible. Despite this, he’s still able to force his broken and exhausted body to beat All for One again, while using up the last of One for All, and leaving it up to Izuku.

Now he’s that quirkless boy who wants to help people again, only this time, he can’t.

Now he can’t be a hero, the one thing that’s kept him going all these years. And people on the street who don’t recognize him right away, criticize how he looks, which again, is out of his control. So he continues to hide himself in shame.

Gran Torino has told him he’s not being a proper mentor to Izuku, but the boy is already surpassing him with his schooling from other teachers. So, without heroing and mentoring, all Toshinori has left is being a teacher.

And unfortunately, Eraserhead has told him he’s also mediocre at that as well.

Then Izuku meets Sir Nighteye, and questions Toshinori about their relationship, while also questioning his own successor-ship.

Which leads to a very emotional scene of Toshinori telling Izuku exactly what happened all those years ago, as well as his death sentence that, oh by the way, is coming either this year or the next.

Toshinori is fairly emotionless while explaining this to the boy, I imagine he’s fairly disconnected with his own emotions by this point.

But seeing how upset Izuku was is enough to make him try and console the other that he won’t simply roll over and die, that he’ll go down fighting.

And THEN, he gets word that Sir Nighteye is in grave condition and most likely won’t make it through the night. Even after their falling out, Toshinori goes to his friend’s side, and the resemblance is scary.

Now he can see why Nighteye looked into his future, to see if Toshi had any chance on living. Being put in this position, he can understand. You can even hear Toshinori’s voice break (Japanese version) when he tells Sir that he needs to stay alive to allow Toshi to repent for his sins. But Nighteye can’t stay. And when facing the man who’s always been known for his smile, who can’t do it anymore, Sir says to him: “Smile. Live on, Toshinori.”

But for what?

The most recent episodes have a relatively emotionless Toshinori.

Like in today’s episode, the best he can give Izuku is a small smile, barely anything. He doesn’t even emote when he catches Hatsume’s stray baby.

He clearly still has the reflexes of a hero, but he can’t physically be one anymore. His health is too fragile. *Manga spoilers ahead*

Then there’s this scene with Aizawa.

He had long since accepted his own death, maybe even longed for it. But Izuku made him decide to try and live, even though he’s not sure how to anymore.

This poor man has been through Hell. And now he feels useless and helpless. Thank God he finally said something to Aizawa, but he needs more than just this, he needs to have a purpose again. I hope Aizawa and the others can help him find it again.

#toshinori yagi #all might #my hero academia #mha #manga spoilers #gore #depression #toshinori yagi has depression #mental illness #boku no hero academia #bnha #Yagi Toshinori #meta

5K notes · View notes

supernovafics · 3 years ago

Text

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

summary: in which tom is your ex-boyfriend and a night in vegas for your mutual friend’s birthday leads to a surprising drunk confession

warnings: explicit language, drunkenness, so much angst, (italicized means flashback)

word count: 2.9k

author’s note: first time ever posting any kind of writing on here but i’m actually very proud of this so i hope you all enjoy! things gets berry berry angsty and sad in this so i’m sorry in advance </3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Against your many drunken protests, the night was coming to an end. You did not want to leave the club you were in along with Zendaya and the friends she invited, so you pouted at the girl, knowing that since this whole Vegas trip had been for her birthday, she would be able to make everyone stay.

“Come on, Z. We should all have a couple more drinks,” You told her, words coming out slightly slurred, showing how inebriated you were.

“No way, Y/N. I think you’ve had enough drinks for the night,” Zendaya responded, and instead of verbally responding to her, you simply pouted again.

You felt upset that you had to leave, but the tiniest part of you that was sober knew you would thank her in the morning for making you do so.

Zendaya turned her attention to Tom, who was sitting at the table that the group of friends had been occupying for most of the night. “Tom, since you and Y/N are staying at the same hotel, can you make sure she gets back to her room okay?”

Tom turned his gaze away from his phone and nodded at Zendaya’s request. He looked at where you were now standing by the bar, animatedly talking and laughing with Jacob and Harrison. Seeing how happy you looked with them reminded Tom of the situation the two of you were in.

For the past two days of this Vegas trip, you both had barely spoken any words to each other. This avoidance wasn’t necessarily purposeful, it was just something that happened, and it honestly made sense. With the way things ended between you two, there was bound to be some lingering awkward tension, especially since this was the first time you guys had been in the same vicinity of each other since the breakup, which happened a little over six months ago.

Neither of you hated the other, but you definitely weren’t going to initiate anything more than some simple small talk.

However, tonight was much different than the past two days in Vegas had been. You were drunk, and anytime you were in this intoxicated state, you became overly friendly and a little too honest, a mixture that almost always led to some type of disaster.

• • •

The beginning of the elevator ride up to your floor was fairly quiet until you started drunkenly rambling to Tom, acting as if there wasn’t any awkward tension between the two of you. It was mainly because the drunk version of you gave zero fucks about the awkwardness that had been lingering for so long.

“We should’ve stayed for just one more drink. It would have been really fun,” You said to him, grinning widely as you leaned back against the wall of the elevator. Tom was standing right next to you. He had been like this the entire way to the hotel just in case you tripped or anything else; he had seen you drunk enough times before to know some of your usual mannerisms.

“You’re already pretty drunk, though,” Tom responded, chuckling lightly.

Even though his words were true, you still gasped, offended. “No, I’m not!”

Once again, Tom laughed, and the sound made your heart simultaneously flutter and ache.

His laugh was your favorite thing about him, not only the soft and happy sound of it but the way his mouth turned up in a wide smile as he did so too. And hearing that oh-so-familiar laugh right then made you realize that this was the first time you’ve heard it in a while, and it also made you desperately want to listen to it again.

“I still love your laugh so much,” You told him, knowing you would not have said that if you were any hint of sober.

As the words spilled from your lips, you noticed the corner of Tom’s mouth perk up the tiniest bit in a smile. “And this honesty is how I know you’re very drunk right now.”

You rolled your eyes, and a full smile took over your features. “I didn’t see you drink at all tonight.”

Tom simply shrugged. “Wasn’t really in the mood.”

The grey elevator doors then opened up to the nineteenth floor before you could say anything in response to Tom’s statement. Both you and he exited the elevator, and you began walking in the direction of your hotel room. That was until you noticed that none of the numbers was the one for your room, and instead of the room numbers on the doors decreasing to the one that was yours, they were actually increasing.

“Wait, fuck. We’re going the wrong way.” You quickly turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. The abrupt action caused you to trip over absolutely nothing but your own feet. Tom attempted to reach for you, but you hit the ground before he could even get the chance to grab your arm.

“Shit, you okay, Y/N?” Tom asked as he knelt down next to you.

You nodded at his question as you laughed a bit and sat up on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs under you. “I’m okay. Can we actually sit here for a sec? The floor is pretty comfortable.”

Tom smiled amusingly at your drunken actions and proceeded to sit down across from you on the carpeted floor of the hallway.

It was quiet for a few moments, and things mainly consisted of you silently admiring his face and him attempting to decipher what you were thinking.

“How are you and Lily?” You asked him. The question randomly came to mind, and before you could stop it from coming out of your mouth, it was blurted.

To say Tom was confused about your words would be an understatement. He hadn’t posted anything about his new relationship yet since it was still slightly recently, and he was nowhere near ready to do so. When you two were together, it took over ten months until you both decided to “go public” with your relationship.

“We’re good,” He answered after his brief moment of confusion. “I didn’t even know that you know about Lily and me.”

Your shoulders lifted in a simple shrug. “I was talking to Harrison about a month ago, and he accidentally mentioned it.”

That conversation was something you remembered all too well. Specifically, the bittersweetness you felt when Harrison told you that Tom was with someone new. You knew that it was a good thing, and overall you were happy for him, but you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of sadness, knowing that Tom being in a new relationship meant that things were truly over for the two of you.

The thought made you feel a thousand times more upset than you knew you would’ve felt if you were sober. And it also made you feel like an idiot because you were the one who ended things all those months ago, so you shouldn’t be feeling sad at all. But if you considered the circumstances which made you end things, your emotions entirely made sense.

“Hey, are you okay?” Tom was quick to notice how upset you looked, and his voice was full of concern.

God, now you absolutely hated the fact that you were drunk. It made the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes feel uncontrollable.

You ultimately swallowed back the tears and sad thoughts, letting your drunken mind roam to a place that was much less depressing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just— Nevermind. Hey, do you remember that time we went to Disney and became completely obsessed with the churros? I swear we both had like five that day.”

You had no idea how your mind brought you to thinking about and bringing up that story, especially because it was something you hadn’t thought about in forever. But the memory always made you laugh, just as you were doing right then.

Tom laughed too as he nodded his head. “That feels like it happened so long ago, but yeah, I remember that. Honestly, I’d go back to Disneyland just for the churros.”

The more you thought about that memory, the more you missed those times with Tom. It made you wonder if he missed that as well. Does he miss me too?

Even though you were drunk, your brain was smart enough not to ask that question. However, it was sadly not smart enough to stop you from saying the next thing you said.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Once again, a confused expression took over Tom’s features. He had no idea where you were going with your question, but he still nodded his head, quite curious about what you were going to tell him. “Sure,” He said along with the nod.

You leaned a tad bit closer toward Tom and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Sometimes I wish that I didn’t lie to you at the airport by saying I wouldn’t do the same for you, which was basically me saying that I didn't love you. Because I really did love you.”

Your softly spoken words lingered in the air between you and Tom for many moments after they fell from your lips.

If you somehow remembered what you just told him in the morning, the smallest part of you that was sober knew that you would completely regret the confession you made.

However, you were unsure if you’d regret the confession more than the actual lie you had told Tom all those months ago; because that was something that the deepest part of you regretted every day.

• • •

The next time you two would see each other was very uncertain. Tom was getting on a plane to London, which was what led you to drive him to LAX, and it was a flight that you would’ve taken with him if there weren’t some things you needed to handle in Los Angeles for the next week.

You were both pretty good at making set plans on when you would see each other next, especially considering how busy your schedules could always be. But, this time was much different. A photography job was going to be taking you to New Zealand for the next six months, and Tom was going to start filming a new movie in Canada in a couple of weeks. It felt like your lives were moving in two completely different directions.

You had known that fact for a long time, but you loved him so much that you always pushed away all of those doubts and worries that would flood your mind.

The past week was when you finally decided to stop. You couldn’t halt the thoughts that took over your brain, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to. Mainly because of how much sense they made. Both of your respective careers were exponentially growing, with your nature photography becoming more recognized and Tom receiving more acting jobs. And those facts were something that you knew would only continuously draw the two of you farther and farther apart.

“So, I’ll see you soon?” Tom’s questioning words pulled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to look at him as he began gathering his things from your car, knowing that the drop-off point you had to park in front of didn’t allow for too long goodbyes.

You were quiet for a few moments, having absolutely no idea how you wanted to word your next statement. Tom looked over at you with curious and hopeful eyes, and that expression made what you knew you had to say feel a million times harder.

“I don’t know,” You finally said, the words coming out soft and almost too quiet, but Tom was still able to hear them.

His eyebrows furrowed in immediate confusion, and he stopped his actions of attempting to make sure everything was in his carry-on backpack. “What do you mean?”

“Next week I’m going to New Zealand for six months, and you’re going to film in Canada. And then after that, there are probably just gonna be more jobs that will push us further away from each other. Our lives are moving in two completely different directions, Tom.” Your words came out rushed, but that didn’t change how true they were.

“We know how to make things work, though. We just had to do a long period of long-distance a few months ago when I had to be in France for a month, and you were here, and we made it through that,” Tom told you, and there was that hopeful look again, making your heart lurch the longer you looked at him.

You pulled your eyes away from him and turned your attention downward for a brief moment. “Yes, we did, but it was still so hard, and we both knew it. And even then, we at least had a set date when we knew we would see each other again. Right now, we have absolutely no clue, and it’s just going to continue to get harder.”

Tom wanted to rebuttal your statement, but he didn’t know the exact thing to say right then, so instead, he opted for the dreaded question, “So what does that mean for us?”

A beat of silence went by before you answered him with, “I think we both know what that means.”

“Just say it, Y/N,” Tom said, and you could already see the hurt that was brimming behind his features. It made you hate the fact that you'd become able to read him so well. You turned your gaze away from him and instead focused your eyes on the Nevada license plate of the car that was in front of you.

This was it. There was nothing more you could do to tread around the words that had to be said.

“I think it would be best if we broke up.”

Silence prevailed in the small space of your car for what felt like hours but was actually just barely a minute. A car honking from behind you put an end to the quiet, and you finally turned to look at Tom.

“You should go. You’re gonna miss your flight.” The fact that you were still processing the last words that you just said to Tom made your voice sound distant and quiet.

Tom was quick to shake his head. “I don’t care about the flight right now. You can not expect me to give up on us so easily, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to respond to him with, so instead, you just gave him the smallest shrug.

“I love you. We can figure everything out and make it all work,” Tom told you. “If there are times where I need to give up an acting job to make sure that we’re not away from each other for months at a time, then I’ll do it. I really don’t need to take on every role that is offered to me, and I won’t if that means I don’t have to lose you.”

You knew exactly how true those words were, and that was what scared you. In a heartbeat, Tom would give up any acting job if that meant he would get to spend more time with you, and you would do the exact same for him. However, you knew that that was not a good thing. You had always been someone that thought about things long-term, and you knew that regret would eventually spur from both ends if the two of you continuously did that, and that regret would lead to resentment. That was exactly what you did not want to happen.

Once again, you were quiet, not responding to his words with anything, so Tom took that as his cue to continue on, saying something that almost mimicked your previous thoughts. “I know you’d do the same for me too, Y/N. We love each other so much.”

You did love Tom so much, sometimes maybe even too much. And you also knew that he loved you the same amount too; it was a fact that was easily confirmed from the current pleading look in his eyes. However, as much as it hurt, you knew exactly what you needed to do.

“No,” You said with the slightest shake of your head. You took a shallow breath and disconnected your eyes from Tom’s before you finished off your sentence. “I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

There was no need to look at Tom to gather his reaction to your words because you had a strong feeling what it was. Hurt and heartbreak. And that was something that you really did not want to see.

The sound of a car honking again behind you broke the growing silence again, and Tom took that as his cue to finally exit your car. He said nothing to you as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder, grabbed his suitcase from the backseat, and then headed into the airport.

You had just told him something that was a complete and utter lie, and as much as you wanted to chase after him and tell him that your statement had been just that, you didn’t. As you watched his figure become smaller and smaller as he continued inside the expansive airport, you noticed that he did not turn to look back at you once. That was what let you know that the damage was done.

Your heart hurt like hell right then, a completely self-inflicted wound, but you knew that in the long run, your actions would prove to be the right thing. The pain from it all would ease up eventually.

• • •

Tom had absolutely no idea what to say in response to your confession. He was beyond confused and had no idea if you were even telling the truth; he honestly hoped that you weren’t.

That day at the airport was fucking heartbreaking for him, and if it actually had all been just a lie, he wouldn’t know how to feel.

Before he could utter any type of response to your previous words, your drunken mind moved to a completely different place, disregarding everything that had come out of your mouth less than a minute ago.

“I’m really tired,” You said and stood up from the cross-legged position you were in on the floor so that you could start heading to your hotel room.

Tom wordlessly followed suit, and less than a minute later, the two of you were standing in front of your door. You pulled your key card from your pocket and managed to unlock the door after receiving some help from Tom. Using the card was something that had already been slightly difficult to do sober, so adding your drunkenness to the table did not make it any easier.

When the door was opened, you began to step inside the room, but you stopped when you decided to pull Tom in for a hug. He felt completely awkward and tense at the action, but that was something that you didn’t at all notice due to your inebriated state.

“Goodnight, Tommy,” You said to him once you pulled back from the embrace. The nickname you used to always call him, slipping out way too easily.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom responded, forcing out a small smile. His mind was still completely stuck on your drunk confession, and he knew that he would be thinking about it all night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts! <33

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #tom holland x original character #tom holland x oc

101 notes · View notes

superfanficnatural · 4 years ago

Text

To Build A Home

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: With the mark on your hand growing out of control and Corypheus needing to be stopped, there was no shortage of problems for the Inquisitor. However, once your hand is forced, what will it mean for you and Cullen?

A/N: Hey guys! I’ve recently joined the Dragon Age fandom because oh my GOD their games are ridiculously good. Because of that, I have fallen head over heels for Cullen Rutherford (aka resident daddy) and I wanted to write something for him. I don’t currently have a masterlist for DAI so this post won’t be linked anywhere until I set it up. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff, Angst.

Word Count: 3,119

Ever since the Inquisition was first formed, you could have never guessed that it would have led to you leading it and falling in love with your general, Cullen. You were the only one who could close the rifts with the anchor but you couldn’t do it alone, recruiting all types of comrades to help you in your fight. You had built the Inquisition from the ground up; taking over different forts and strongholds in the name of the Inquisition, closed numerous rifts across Ferelden and Orlais, recruited the best of the best to join you, and spread the influence of your organization. Throughout this, you and Cullen had been drawn to each other from the very beginning. There was something about him that drove you crazy. His confident and authoritative aura, paired with his kind hearted nature was something that melted your heart every time. Even during War meetings, he would offer you a small smile, avoiding the gaze of Josephine but never Leliana, for she was invested in your relationship. You couldn’t help the giddy feeling that rose in your chest whenever it had happened. That man had made you feel things you never thought you ever would, and you confided in him. With the heavy amount of responsibility that was on your shoulders, Cullen had offered himself as a shoulder to lean on and you were infinitely grateful to him for that. In return, you had done the same for him, wanting to show him just how much you cared for him. You remembered when the two of you had finally decided to stop dancing around it and finally admit your feelings for one another.

It was after you had gotten back from retaking the stronghold in Crestwood with the help of Hawke, stopping a ritual that was sacrificing Grey Wardens to summon more demons. You had walked up to his quarters with determination fueling you, repeating the same words in your head like a mantra, “Admit that you have feelings for him, admit you have feelings for him.” Though nothing went according to plan.

Opening the door to Cullen’s quarters, you walked in, Cullen’s gaze rising from the map on the desk to meet your own, a smile small spreading across his face.

“Inquisitor! How may I assist you?” he greeted, formal as ever which made you roll your eyes.

“Cullen, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

He smiled, a bit embarrassed, “S-sorry, Y/N. Is there something that you... wanted to talk about?” his left arm reached back behind his head to nervously scratch at the scalp.

He looked ridiculously adorable and you couldn’t help but blush a bit seeing the influence you had on him. You walked up to him, stopping only about a foot away and looked directly into his eyes.

“Cullen, I...” you had the words but you couldn’t say them, the look of anticipation in his eyes rendering you unable to form words. “I uh... I gotta go!” you mentally beat yourself to a pulp and sprinted out of the room. Not ran, sprinted.

You left a very flustered and confused Cullen behind and ran to your quarters, ignoring everyone looking at you in confusion. Though, when you got to your room, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers and never speak to anyone again, you walked into Iron Bull laying back nearly naked on your bed like he owned the damn thing.

“B-bull!?” you nearly shouted.

“Look, Boss, I get it. You want to ride the bull, but I don’t think you know what you’re-”

“WHAT?!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, stopping him mid-sentence.

He hid his surprise at your reaction fairly well, continuing on hesitantly, “You see, us Qunari have rather large... weapons. I don’t believe that you could take it.”

The door suddenly slammed open, “The only ‘weapon’ that Y/N is going to be taking is mine!”

You had slowly turned around to face the door to see a red faced Cullen with his hand slapped over his mouth, to then hear Bull begin laughing behind you.

“Ohhhh, I see what’s going on here, I’ll just leave you two be,” he said, walking past you and Cullen to leave the room, closing the door behind him.

“Uhm, Inquisitor! Uhhh...” Cullen was a blubbering mess, unable to even form a single sentence, his face as red as a tomato.

As embarrassed, weirded out, and nervous as you were, you took your chance, “Cullen, what was it that you said when you walked in?”

His eyes widened, “N-n-nothing! I didn’t say anything at all!”

You hid your smile and forced your feet forward towards him, knowing that it was now or never, “Because if I heard you correctly, I would have to agree with you.”

He looked completely and utterly shocked, “O-oh... is that so?” he asked nervously.

You wringed your hands out by your sides, unbelievably nervous, “Cullen I-” you were at the precipice and you were still hesitating, but instead, you slapped yourself.

Literally slapping yourself, Cullen blinked in confusion, but the pain snapped you out of it. You surged forward and connected your lips to his, Cullen going stiff for a second before he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You’ll never forget how happy you were on that day. While it was rather embarrassing half of the time, it led to you leading the most wonderful love story with Cullen you could ever imagine. Though, it was difficult, having to leave Skyhold so often to fight against hundreds of enemies. You knew the effect that it had on Cullen, he would plead with you, pray to the Maker that you would fight and return to him safely. One of the things that made you fall for Cullen so hard was how loving he was, he loved with all of his heart and he wasn’t afraid to tell you how he felt. Though, most of the time it included him blushing but that simply made it even better.

Now, you were simply days away from confronting Corypheus in the Arbor Wilds. You led the bulk of the Inquisition forces, Cullen coming with you this time. You both knew that it was the end of the line. If you didn’t defeat Corypheus today, you would die, and so would the rest of the world. There was a heavy blanket over the two of you that day, you didn’t want to say goodbye, the both of you refused to even accept dying as a possible outcome, but you also didn’t want to revel in each other, the fear of losing that overbearing. As you reached Corypheus’ stronghold, you knew that this was something only you could do alone. Turning to Cullen, Corypheus could be heard in the back, taunting you, daring you to run to your death. You ignored him, focusing solely on Cullen. You could tell that he was using all of the will in his body to not break and stay strong, but you knew him well enough to see through his facade easily.

You walked up to him and smiled lovingly, “Cullen Rutherford, I love you.”

A tear fell down his cheek as he responded, “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. Come back to me.”

The two of you shared one last kiss before you pulled away and smiled, turning to leave and meet your fate. For days, your mark had been growing and pulsing on your arm, it had never hurt before but now, it felt like your arm was being ripped off. You hid it from Cullen though, not wanting him to worry and not wanting to break his heart. You knew that you weren’t going to make it no matter what happened today, but you knew that no matter what, you were going to save Cullen.

“Foolish mortal, have you come to die?” Corypheous sneered at you, orb in hand as you reached the top of the tower.

You ignored him and instead looked down to the valley, seeing Cullen looking back at you. You couldn’t hold eye contact for long for he had sent a pulse of magic at you, forcing you to roll out of the way before recovering.

“This has gone on for too long, Corypheus! It’s time for your reign of terror to come to an end!” you shouted at him, building up the energy in your mark.

He laughed, “After I kill you, I shall lay waste to this world, starting with those mongrels down there.”

You could feel the mark radiating pure energy, sparks flying off of your hand and drawing Corypheus' attention.

“No, what are you doing?” he shouted, blasting a surge of magic at you.

It was too late, it reflected right off of you and suddenly you felt your body being lifted. Ever since you had first gotten the mark, you had spent every ounce of energy in your body making sure that you would never lose control. But now... you let go. Raw energy was coursing through your veins as you were lifted into the air, a ball of rift energy swirling around you. You opened your eyes to see Corypheus in fear, and Cullen looking on in worry.

Before you released all of the energy you had accumulated, you looked towards Cullen, mouthing, “I’m sorry, my love,” and released everything that you were holding.

Boom

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

It was a beautiful afternoon day when you and Cullen had decided to take a walk around Skyhold. You had found some free time after being gone for almost an entire month sealing rifts, making alliances, and spreading the Inquisitions influence. Frankly, you didn’t think you had the energy to do anything else for a while, you were completely wiped and wanted to do nothing but just be with the love of your life. Holding his hand as the two of you walked down the gentle breeze into the garden was soothing, it was exactly what you needed.

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” Cullen broke the peaceful silence.

You turned to look at him to see the pure adoration and awe in his orbs as he gazed upon you, “What?”

“This Inquisition wouldn’t be what it is today if it weren’t for you, and neither would I,” he added with a small blush forming on his rosy cheeks.

You blushed slightly as well with a smile, “You give me too much credit, you, Cassandra, and Leliana do all of the work, I just go out and fight and close rifts.”

He gave you an annoyed look, “And you dare pretend that your job isn’t a thousand times more dangerous than ours?”

You smiled at his protectiveness, “Cullen, I’m fine, and no one is as strong as me,” you flexed your arm with a goofy smile.

This broke him as he bent over laughing at your ridiculousness, the two of you sharing a chuckle before he straightened with a serious expression, “Y/N...”

You pulled him into a hug, resting your head on his warm chest, feeling his arms embrace you, “You have nothing to worry about, I will always fight to come back to you, no matter what.”

You could feel his relieved sigh, “You mean more to me than anything or anyone I’ve ever encountered. Even the slightest thought of losing you-”

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eye, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise, I will always come back to you, my love.”

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

The ground quaked with the magnitude of the explosion but Cullen didn’t even register it, shouting out at the top of his lungs for his entire world to still be alive. He ran directly towards the rubble, the sounds of people shouting his name behind him tuned out. He dug and dug for hours, Inquisition agents helping with the efforts.

“Over here!” someone had shouted.

Cullen ran as fast as his legs could carry him to a beaten and broken version of the person that owned his heart and his soul.

“No,” he whispered brokenly, dropping to his knees next to your body.

He reached his shaking hand out to cup your bloodied cheek, “You promised... you promised that you would come back.”

The only thing that the remaining soldiers could hear were the cries of their general, wishing that he had been taken instead.

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

Cullen was slunken over his desk at Skyhold, mugs of drunken beer scattered around, papers crinkled up and tossed haphazardly around the room. After the death of the Inquisitor, the mission of the Inquisition was completed, but Cullen had lost his will to live.

“You promised me,” he mumbled, the tears rolling down his cheeks, “you promised you would come back.”

He held the necklace you had made for him tightly in his fist, pressing it against his heart in an attempt to ease the ache that was spreading out of it.

“Cullen, do you have a moment-” Leliana was stopped in her tracks as she saw Cullen curled up in the corner of the dark room.

She also immediately began to tear up but kept it hidden, walking towards Cullen and kneeling in front of him, “Cullen, I have something that might interest you.” He brought his gaze up to meet hers, “And what could possibly interest me, nothing does anymore.”

She sighed softly, “After the Inquisitor...” she felt a lump rise in her throat, “after the battle with Corypheous, I began to take care of all the loose ends the Inquisitor left behind. And in doing so, I came across this,” she took a piece of parchment out of her pocket and extended it to him.

Cullen wiped his tears and hesitantly grabbed it from her hands, “Hinterlands, in the Dead Ram Grove, the project is finally finished. Cullen will love it.”

He gasped, “This is in the Inquisitor’s handwriting!” He sprawled up immediately, “What was this project of his?”

Leliana looked crestfallen, “As a spymaster, I should know the information for what you ask, but the Inquisitor kept this project a well kept secret. You must go and find out for yourself.”

Not even thirty minutes after Leliana had presented Cullen with the parchment, he had set out for Dead Ram Grove.

“Where is it?!” Cullen shouted out, saddled on his horse as he looked around the area.

He wandered around on horseback, covering almost every last inch of the area until he came upon a house.

“Impossible,” he spoke in a breathless whisper.

In front of him was almost an exact replica of a house he had wished for his entire life, the house he had only told you about. It was the spitting image of his childhood home but with a few modifications and it brought a fresh wave of tears. He snapped the reigns on the horse slightly to move closer to the home, dismounting and walking up the stone carved path. As he reached the door, his hand began to shake along with his entire body, the tears now dripping from his cheeks onto the ground.

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

“Then that’s where we’ll live!”

Cullen laughed, “The materials needed to make a house like that do not even exist anymore, they were lost in the last Blight.”

“Doesn’t matter, if it makes you happy, then I’ll find them, even if I have to dig miles into the ground,” you said with determination.

Cullen looked at you with adoration in his eyes, “You make me the happiest man on this planet, Y/N.”

Don’t have a divider for this fandom sorry - scene change.

“Damn it,” Cullen whispered, his voice cracking as his entire body shivered with the weight of his emotions.

After a few minutes, Cullen mustered up the strength he needed to open the door, walking into the foyer and immediately catching the faint smell of you. As he took the house in, he walked into the living room to see a piece of paper on the dining table. Rushing over, he picked it up and wiped the blurriness from his eyes to read properly.

“I told you I would build this house for you. Now, the only way you’re reading this note is if I didn’t throw it away before bringing you here myself so it must mean that I’m dead. I’m so sorry, Cullen, I know I told you that I would always come back to you, but this time, I lied. I love you with all of my heart and know that I will never stop loving you. Please, don’t be sad, live your life in this house, make a family. Knowing that I can leave this behind for you to be happy is all that I need. Goodbye, my love.”

The paper began to droop in his hands as his tears made the material soft, his hands were quaking and he couldn’t hold in his sobs. His back hit the wall and he slid down with the paper lodged in his hands, the necklace you gave him around his neck as he renounced you.

“I don’t want to live a life without you,” he wailed into the empty room, “I don’t want to have a family if you aren’t here by my side.” He felt like he was being ripped in half, his love for you and his grief overbearing while his anger at you breaking your promise had his lip curling up, “A world without you is a dark and cold one, my heart.”

“Don’t cry my love, know that I will always be here with you.”

Cullen’s eyes widened as he shot up from the ground, “Y/N?! Is that you? Where are you?”

“Turn around.”

His body instinctively turned before he could even think to, seeing the faint image of the love of his life staring at him, “H-how?”

You smiled, “Are you forgetting that I had the anchor? While my power dwindles, I only have a few moments on this side of the fade.”

“No, no, please don’t leave me again!” Cullen pleaded, moving closer to you.

“My love, please, take this house as my last gift to you, and use it to live out the rest of your life. Find someone to share your life with-”

“NO!” Cullen shouted. “I cannot be with anyone else!” the tears from his eyes seemed endless as he pleaded with you.

You sighed, defeated and heartbroken, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I broke my promise to you. I love you, my heart.”

Cullen was helpless as he watched you fade away, the room once again empty.

“I love you too, my love,” was the last thing heard in the room before Cullen had once again fallen to the ground.

Forevers Tag List: @magssteenkamp @shadowsinger11 @donnaintx @flamencodiva @impalawrites @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @wonder-cole @downanddirtydean @flashxspn @zooaliaa @huffle-pissed

#dai #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen #cullen rutherford #dragon age fanfiction #cullen rutherford x reader #gender neutral #reader #reader insert #cullen x reader #fluff #angst #cullen fanfiction #oneshot

144 notes · View notes

recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

For Stuff For Renji's Birthday Prompts: 1) time travel turn back the clock nonsense, bc I'm an enabler and Karakura teens plus shithead Renruki teens has *Byakuya voice* strong comedic potential OR 2) Hisana lives but due to wacky circumstances, nobody notices Rukia's existence at the Academy... until they've graduated and Renruki have joined Squad 11. Dealer's choice! (Honestly whichever you pick, I might try writing the one you don't. I am not a writer these 2 just live in my head rent free)

Why would you make me choose between these, whyyyyyyyyyy?

To be honest, I almost did them both, but this was the second one I did, and I figured that I should probably do some other people’s prompts, and then I ran out of time. I might do you some time travel shenanigans later. (This should in no way stop you from writing these, I would flip my chips if you wrote something, let alone something based on my horrible ideas)

In any case, I couldn’t resist the second options and I have spun it out into a delightful bit of Byakuya-torture. Please enjoy!!!

Special thanks to @kaicko for helping me come up with the clerical error, because you all know me, I can’t just say “a clerical error.” 😂

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀 💀 💀

“How is the tea?” Aizen Sousuke asked smoothly.

The tea was excellent, but Byakuya wasn’t in the mood for Aizen’s needy attempts to ingratiate himself. “Adequate,” he replied dryly. “You said you had something to discuss with me.”

“Ah, diligent as always, Byakuya,” Aizen sighed, “always eager to get back to work. I’ll get to the point: I happened to speak with your wife recently at a fundraising event. She’s very interested in the people of the deep Rukon, and said she travels to South Rukongai frequently.”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. “What is your point?”

“Well, I thought it was a bit of a strange occupation for a woman of your wife’s noble standing, but then Gin reminded me that she was actually from there herself, that there had been a bit of a to-do when you two married. I don’t tend to follow gossip myself--”

“I repeat, what is your point?” Byakuya gritted your teeth.

Aizen made a pissy little throat clearing noise and fiddled with a folder on his desk. “The fact is, Byakuya, your wife reminds me a great deal of a young woman who served in my squad a few years ago, whom I recalled also hailing from the Rukon. I wondered if there might be a.... connection.”

Byakuya’s shoulders stiffened. Impossible. He had put watches on all immigrants to the Seireitei. He would have reviewed anyone who came from the South 78th.

“Inuzuri Rukia,” Aizen read from his file, and Byakuya’s blood ran cold. “Shin’ou class of 2066. Unseated. Petite, like your wife. Dark hair. Very striking eyes. Unfortunately, an unremarkable shinigami. Potential for a good kidou user, but didn’t take direction well. More interested in sword combat, although she had little aptitude for it. Ah, here it is. Hometown: District 48, South Rukongai.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Byakuya said flatly. “Inuzuri is the 78th district of South Rukongai. Why would she carry a surname from a different district?”

Aizen made an exaggerated frown. “Very strange! A clerical error perhaps? Hold on a moment.” He stuck his head out of his office door and said something to the shinigami on reception duty. “Fortunately, there’s an easy way to clear this up. It’ll just be a minute.”

Byakuya gripped his teacup, unsure of how to feel. A clerical error. Class of 2066… she would have enrolled in 2060, in the middle of Hisana’s worst turn, when she had been bedridden for nearly four years. Their attention would have lapsed. It made sense.

“She does not sound like your usual recruit,” Byakuya accused. Aizen was constantly finding ways to skim the highest performers from the Academy, all the gifted children.

Aizen looked sheepish. “Ah, well, you see, there was a young man of some talent that I was eager to recruit who was… attached to her. I thought she might have some potential if properly guided, but it never panned out.”

Aizen’s good deed was suddenly beginning to make sense. The girl had transferred out and taken Aizen’s prize with her. He wanted Byakuya to go fetch her away in hopes that the talented one would come home. Byakuya actually felt much better now that he’d identified Aizen’s ulterior motive, and further, that it had more to do with his own petty recruiting schemes than Byakuya’s family (specifically, Byakuya’s wife).

There was a knock at the office door, and upon being bid entry, a young woman walked in. Although indeed petite and dark-haired, she looked nothing like Hisana, and Byakuya remarked as much.

“Oh, no, this is my Seventh Seat!” Aizen chuckled. “Miss Hinamori, you were friends with Inuzuri Rukia, isn’t that correct?”

The young woman’s eyes had gone wide when she recognized Byakuya. “Er, yes, sir,” she said, her eyes darting between the two captains. “We shared a room while she served here.”

“Do you happen to remember what district she was from?” Aizen asked in an overly friendly manner.

“Oh, sure, it was South 78,” Hinamori replied. “Inuzuri, of course.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know all the outermost ones,” Aizen said in his goofy voice again. “Her paperwork says 48.”

Hinamori’s brow furrowed for a moment and then her face brightened. “She and Abarai had very heavy accents when they first came to the Academy, and used a lot of deep Rukongai language quirks. I don’t remember all of it, but they both used to use ‘shichi’ instead of ‘nana’ for seven, especially when referring to their district. They weren’t very fond of their home district. I wonder if the registrar misheard.”

“Well, there you go!” Aizen said, slapping his hands on his desk. “A very logical explanation!”

Hinamori beamed.

Byakuya found Aizen’s need to be liked by his subordinates very unprofessional and off-putting, but he tried to push it aside. He was trying not to be too eager, but this was probably the best lead he’d had on Hisana’s sister in all the years they had been searching. “Where is she now?” he grumbled.

Aizen turned his doe eyes on his fawning subordinate once more. “I don’t suppose you still keep in touch? She couldn’t have lasted very long there, they must have transferred again?”

Hinamori made a face like she didn’t want to say the answer. “I’m afraid that Kira and I had a bit of a falling out with Abarai and Inuzuri when they left. I haven’t talked to them in a few years, although we still have some mutual friends. As far as I know, though, they’re both still at Squad Eleven. I heard they were doing fairly well there, actually.”

The room seemed to retreat around Byakuya. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and the reverberations of the most horrible words he could possibly think of: Squad Eleven.

---

Byakuya knew it was poor etiquette to visit another captain’s squad when the man was out, but he absolutely could not stomach the idea of discussing the matter of his wife’s sister with the Kenpachi, so he waited until Zaraki and his miniature lieutenant were sent out to go trample half of East Rukongai before visiting.

He also knew that he probably should have said something to Hisana, but he couldn’t bring himself to get his wife’s hopes up, only to dash them, should this turn out to be nothing, like so many leads before it. So, the secret sat in his stomach, heavy and acidic, jostling with the guilt of his breach of etiquette.

“Is there someone here,” he gingerly asked one of the gentlemen on gate duty, “who takes care of administrative matters for the squad?”

The man swiveled his head, which appeared to grow directly from his torso with no need for an intervening neck, to his fellow guardsman. “What?”

The other fellow had been busy trying to remove wax from his ear with a pinky. “WHAT?” he shouted back.

“Paperwork!” Byakuya said a little louder. “Is there an office of some sort? A person who knows what’s going on?”

He supposed he could have asked for the girl, Inuzuri, directly, but he didn’t feel… ready.

“I think he wants Ayasegawa,” the neckless guard hazarded.

“WHAT?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Eventually, the burly gentleman returned. With him was a strangely elegant person with a silky curtain of hair cut severely to chin length and piercing violet eyes. “It really is you,” the lovely man said with a level of disdain that Byakuya almost had to admire. Before he had a chance to get offended, the man dipped into a respectful bow. “Welcome to the Eleventh, Captain Kuchiki. Fifth Seat Ayasegawa at your service. What in Soul Society can I possibly do for you?”

“Apologies for visiting while your captain is abroad,” Byakuya replied, not meaning a word of it.

“Oh, he’ll be very sorry to have missed you,” Ayasegawa frowned. “But I’m sure you could make it up to him later.”

Byakuya’s eye twitched. “Perhaps. I have come to enquire about a young woman whom I am told transferred to your squad three years ago.”

“Does she have a name? That might make it a little easier.”

“Inuzuri Rukia.”

Both of Ayasegawa’s eyebrows shot up, and his mouth curved into a feline grin. “Ninth Seat Inuzuri, of course!”

Byakuya blinked. “Ninth Seat? Captain Aizen told me she was middling at best.”

Ayasegawa's face suddenly went stiff. “She was not well-served at the Fifth, but she has bloomed here most beautifully. Inuzuri is my personal protege, you know.” He stared at Byakuya under hooded eyes. “What is your interest in her? Captain?”

Byakuya took a deep breath through his nose. “My wife is also from Inuzuri. She is trying to locate someone she knew there. It is possible this Rukia is that someone.”

Ayasegawa frowned. “Well, I can introduce you, if you like. I should warn you, though, Rukia doesn’t have a lot of lost love for her hometown.”

“My understanding is that there isn’t much to love about it.”

“Mmm,” Ayasegawa agreed. “Well, come along, let’s go find her.” He concentrated for a moment, clearly trying to find her reiatsu. She must be a woman of some power, after all. “Ugh! She and Abarai are at it again! Every day!”

Byakuya swallowed stiffly.

“Well come on! She’s out at the training fields, clobbering our Tenth Seat, yet again.”

Oh. That kind of “going at it.”

Ayasegawa was shaking his head. “The two of them are literally an unstoppable force and an immovable object.”

“Abarai was also at the Fifth?,” Byakuya probed cautiously. “I was told they were close.”

“Of course they’re close!” Ayasegawa scoffed. “They’re partners!” He thought for a moment. “Abarai is from the 78th as well, you know. If Rukia turns out to not be your girl, perhaps one or the other of them knew the person you’re looking for. Abarai is one of those people who just… knows everyone. He’s the personable half of the pair.”

“‘Partners’?” Byakuya echoed. “What… kind of partners?”

Ayasegawa stared back at him like he was insane. “Partners.”

This path of inquiry clearly wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but wasn’t particularly relevant, either. “I did not think kidou-type zanpakutou were permitted in the Eleventh,” Byakuya sniffed. “Aizen’s records indicated Inuzuri wields an ice-and-snow type.”

Ayasegawa gave a little shrug. “Zanpakutou classifications are arbitrary. Obviously, if she had a bunch of showy blizzard attacks like Matsumoto’s little prodigy friend, it would be a no-go. Rukia can take the blade of her sword down to sub-zero temperatures. She has a weapon-shattering attack and she doesn’t feel pain when she’s fighting. It’s fundamentally no different than a zanpakutou so massive that only the wielder can lift it, or a whip sword that’s controlled with one’s reiatsu.”

This sounded like a quibble to Byakuya, but it’s not like he had come to the Eleventh looking for sound logic.

“She’s incredibly fast, probably the fastest person in the Eleventh, although no one’s really sure what Yachiru’s top speed is,” Ayasegawa continued on. He glanced at Byakuya slyly. “I hear you are very fast.”

“You have heard correctly.”

“That’s why Abarai can’t beat her. If he could land one really hard hit on her, she’d go down, but he’s not fast enough and she’s just too agile. He’s my partner’s protege, you see, so I have to take their little scraps very personally.”

How did this man talk so much?

“What did you say your wife’s relationship was to her again?”

“I did not.”

“Ah, right. Oops, look out!” Ayasegawa abruptly dove to one side as a giant mass of shihakushou and pink hair and what might be a sword came crashing through the split rail fence surrounding the training field.

Byakuya was not in the habit of ducking, so he merely plunged the force of his reiatsu down into the earth like a piton. It was almost, but not entirely sufficient. Byakuya gritted his teeth as he was driven back, dirt piling up behind his heels as he skidded backwards.

When they finally came to a halt, Byakuya looked down at the meaty youth lying at his feet. This must be the infamous Abarai, although he certainly didn’t look like one of Aizen’s usual simpering overachievers. The first thing Byakuya observed was the eye makeup. Most shinigami applied at least a little eyeliner, on grounds of tradition, but few bothered to blacken the entire eye socket, as in the skeletal facepaint of old. The second thing Byakuya noticed were the tattoos painted across his forehead and neck. They were black and spikey and horrible. The third thing was the hair, which was bright pink and spikey, and utterly at odds with the makeup and tattoos. The fourth thing was the big, sheepish grin, which honestly just tied the whole hideous tableau together.

Byakuya glared down at the lout, and in a moment of pettiness, flared his reiatsu to a level that should have sent blood spurting out of his ears.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to do much to someone who has a weekly sparring slot with the Kenpachi,” Ayasegawa commented dryly.

“Sorry ‘bout that!” the lummox cheerfully apologized as he sat up and brushed himself off. He had an Inuzuri accent so thick you could spread it on toast, an accent that Hisana tended to slip into only when she was extremely bent out of shape. Abarai snapped the sword hilt in his hand, and the tangled pile of steel on the ground neatly retracted into something that looked a little more like a weapon, if a weapon were designed by a creative and overly violent child.

“That’s a captain, you buffoon!” another voice rang out, and every muscle in Byakuya’s body locked. “Show your respects!”

The voice clearly affected Abarai as well, because he leapt to his feet, spun, and slammed into a bow. “My apologies, Captain…” his eyes glanced up and abruptly widened, “Kuchiki.”

“Greetings, Captain Kuchiki! Welcome to the Eleventh Division! I apologize very profusely for throwing Tenth Seat Abarai at you!” A second young person had come to join Abarai in his bow, and they both rose in unison, Abarai looking suddenly pale and nervous, his companion looking calm and confident.

So this was Inuzuri Rukia. She had Hisana’s voice. She had Hisana’s stature, and standing next to Abarai made her look positively childlike. She wore the same dreadful eyeblack, but the eyes that shone out of it were a variation on Hisana’s, harder and three shades more purple. The rest of the face was Hisana’s. Her hair was dark, shaved on the sides, arranged into porcupine spikes on top, although one lock hung down stubbornly between her eyes. Her ears glittered with silver piercings. At least she was free of awful tatt-- wait, no. Byakuya had missed them at first, because they were white. Abarai’s tattoos were spiky and sharp, but Inuzuri’s were graceful swirls, like ribbons wrapping lazily down her forearms. Even her reiatsu was like Hisana’s-- but instead of a cool, refreshing wintergreen, Inuzuri’s was the bone-deep cold of winter, a cold so harsh it burnt in the lungs.

There was no doubt.

This atrocious delinquent was his long-lost sister-in-law.

“Can we help you with something, sir?” Inuzuri prompted. “Abarai here’s a big fan of yours.”

“Shut up, Rukia,” Abarai managed through gritted molars.

“Inuzuri Rukia, you died as an infant thirty-six years ago and were sent to the 78th District of South Rukongai, is that correct?” Byakuya said stiffly.

Inuzuri and Abarai both bristled, a pair of mongrels raising their haunches. “That seems about right,” Inuzuri replied slowly. “My early years are a little hazy.”

“My wife, Hisana also died thirty-six years ago and was sent to Inuzuri with her infant sister,” Byakuya went on. “They were separated. My wife has been looking for her sister ever since. You… resemble her greatly.” Byakuya let the implication hang in the air. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

There was silence for a moment. Then there was the distinct noise of a laugh that, having been held in, had escaped through someone’s nose. “Sorry! Pardon me!” Ayasegawa wheezed, clapping one hand over his mouth and looking away. “Bit of. Dust. In my throat.”

“I told you! I told you, you looked like that picture of her in the Bulletin!” Abarai was hissing.

“I thought you were lying because you thought she was pretty!” Inuzuri hissed back.

“I thought she was pretty because she looks just like you!”

“Now is really not the time, Abarai!” She cleared her throat and tried to stand up a bit taller, a futile effort. “So, uh, so what? What does that mean, if I am her sister? Does that… does that make me noble?”

A higher pitched wheezing came out of Ayasegawa. The level of impudence was extraordinary.

“I would like you to come to my home to meet her, first,” Byakuya put off making any promises. “We can discuss what comes next. As a family.”

“I’m at work right now,” Inuzuri excused.

“Inuzuri, I need to know how this pans out, you can have the afternoon off,” Ayasegawa informed her.

Inuzuri’s confidence seemed to be draining out of her. She took a tiny step closer to Abarai and groped for his hand. “I’m bringing Renji,” she declared.

“Is he compulsory?” Byakuya asked. Inuzuri was absurd looking too, but at least she was small.

“He’s my family,” Inuzuri insisted.

Byakuya’s brows furrowed. This could prove problematic. “In any sort of legally binding sense?”

“We’re engaged!” Inuzuri announced.

“We are?” Abarai goggled.

“I told you I’d marry you if you could ever manage to beat me in a fight! What else would you call that?” Rukia hissed at him in a voice that was still, unfortunately, perfectly audible.

“I’ve been trying every day, and honestly, Rukia, it’s not looking good for me!”

“Can you just go with it for once, instead of arguing with me every time?”

“If you want to leave and never tell anyone you found her,” Ayasegawa put in, “I am very bribable.”

Byakuya was sorely tempted.

---

End note: To further explain the number mix-up, as I understand it “seven” in Japanese can either be said as “nana” or “shichi”. People usually say “nana” for two reasons-- 1) to avoid confusion with 4 (”shi”, although you can also say “yon”) and because “shi” is a homophone for death. Given how shitty the districts in the 70s are, I rather liked the idea that they residents use the “shichi” pronunciation as a bit of gallows humor. (And if you don’t have a rude nickname for the town you grew up in, well, congrats for not growing up somewhere shitty)

I don’t actually speak Japanese, tho, so forgive me if this is all nonsense. 😁

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #i loved writing this with my entire being #thank you so much #all i ever want in the way of prompts is cursed suggestions that come out of conversations i have in the bowels of my ao3 comments #strictly speaking this isn't very renji-centric but he does reach new peaks of himbo-dom in this au so i will allow it #the byakuya - yumichika interaction in this fic is so powerful #also a i z e n

43 notes · View notes

grenade-maid · 3 years ago

Text

I listen to various history and general education podcasts while cleaning or commuting, and it drives me up the fucking wall the way they talk about, not just communism and anarchism, but anything happening in the world in relation to them. Like recently I listen to something where Mr Roman Mars was talking about how violent Spanish leftists """claimed""" that the ruling class was oppressing workers and undertook a campaign of terror ATTACKING the Catholic Church who """according to their ideology""" was """believed to be""" an institution that was involved in the violent domination of society. Talking about all of these poor innocent beautiful churches that tragically got bombed by these hysterical fanatics. Anyway in a completely unrelated incident that in no way validated or reflected the things they were saying, in the grand and noble fight against the scourge of communism the Catholic Church tag teamed with Spanish conservatives andalsofascists to overthrow the republic in a bloody civil war and establish a brutal dictatorship which allowed them to save the lives of countless cathedrals and other monuments to colonialism and genocide ☺️☺️☺️ like sir not to be rude but are you fucking listening to yourself with how you're describing this

In general this tendency to describe anything that leftists or really anyone advocating for a fundamental change in society or challenge to dominant structures of power in pursuit of justice in language that implies that the observations they are making are purely subjective matters of opinion coming from nowhere (or are a product of brainwashing, as if the ghost of Marx and Bakunin appeared in people's doorways swinging a watch like a pendulum) that couldn't possibly be corroborated by looking at history or the dynamics of contemporary society. Whereas the people in opposition to them, whether they be liberals or all the way up to fascists, get language that casts them implicitly as people who may perhaps be rude but are simply realists approaching the world as it is based on neutral well established facts. Leftists are described as being somehow external to society, a thing that grows like mildew on the outside of a building which may happen to penetrate the walls and require scrubbing, rather than regular people who have made a decision and joined with others in substantial numbers based on their experience living in that society. I've been seeing a lot of that especially in retrospectives on Vietnam that have been coming out since the withdrawal from Afghanistan. That """The Communists""" did this or that, or were ominously growing in numbers, separate entirely from the "Normal" people of Vietnam who of course could not possibly approve of them in any way or have any strong opinions let alone hostility towards the good guys (the French and Americans) as they were mere bystanders in the events of their own country.

I don't even need the writer in question to wholeheartedly and unflaggingly agree with all leftist beliefs and approve of every action ever taken. Simply, to not frame society in a way that lends legitimacy to brutal hierarchies of power which kill, dominate, and exploit, while demonizing and dehumanizing anyone who resists them. Like, even sticking with the Spanish civil war, last year I read something by a pretty solidly moderate historian that managed to be incredibly refreshing simply because he actually detailed the ways that the Catholic Church was a repressive extension of feudalism in Spain, and his primary criticism of the anarchists was just that they hadn't been sufficiently prepared and organized to lead a protracted land war, and that if they had started 5 years earlier they would have had a much better chance. Even just that much, when the work as a whole was still fairly conservative, by simply not treating the revolutionaries like insane incomprehensible boogeymen and the fascists as if maybe they had some points though was a depressingly rare moment of clarity.

#op #heavy

38 notes · View notes

wisteria-lodge · 3 years ago

Text

bird primary (system in progress) + burnt badger secondary (really loud bird model)

Howdy! I’m still trying to figure out my own houses and was wondering if you could provide some insight. I haven’t exactly mastered the system so I don’t know how accurate/inaccurate my claims are, so bear with me.

The “why”/Primary: I am extremely motivated by knowledge. I want to know things, not just out of intrinsic curiosity (though that does play a role), but because knowing why things work helps me protect myself more effectively.

One of the trickiest things about this system is separating motivation from method. Because yeah, they are related, but they're also really different. Like this example: "I protect myself by learning things." That's a how, that's secondary stuff. (Bird secondary of course.)

A recent example is this— a group of my former friends all ditched me because I discussed a heavily stigmatized mental disorder that I show symptoms of. And my first response (other than bawling) was to ask them why. And when I got the answer, I was hurt, but I understood. I don’t say this for you to show me pity, but rather because it illustrates this model in action.

This is a really interesting example. Your friends acted in a way that emotionally hurt you. First you processed your feelings (which you talk about in a dismissive, lighthearted, jokey way) then you asked them for more information... which hurt you, but also made you more secure. This is very Bird primary. You feel feelings, but they're whatever. What actually bothers you is not having the data.

(I suspect you're going to end up being a Double Bird. And Double Birds are unique in that their morality and problem-solving are SO interconnected, that they think I'm crazy for saying that for most people, they are in fact two very different things.)

When I got the why and processed my emotions, I cut off ties and realized that their severe judgy-ness had hindered my life for 2 years. And now that I know the “why”, I won’t bring up said disorder again until I know it’s safe. It might never be, but I still have hope.

You updated your system, and you cut away the parts that aren't serving you anymore. Bird primary.

Morally-speaking, I am very sensitive to the views of others around me.

External primary.

I’m not proud of this. In fact, it’s a detriment.

A lot of Birds feel this way. It's a big part of why they tend to like Lion primaries. Lions are much more able to dismiss things with "sounds like that's a them problem."

I won’t go into details, but my parents are… bad. Not wholly, but they are bad. I’ve tried for years, and still do, to escape their opinions because I know it’ll influence mine.

Parents are sticky. They do that. I've been a happily UnBurnt Lion primary for a while now... but I still sometimes hear that voice in my head that sounds like my mother.

And, much like them, I tend to get over-passionate in what I stand for. Unlike them, I’m willing to change if evidence supports this change. I always, however, carry the burden of my former hatred. I always feel guilt over my old beliefs. Even if I’ve changed, the pain I’ve done can never be reversed. And this guilt eats me alive, this shame of being fundamentally wrong.

Okay. You got really emotional on me really quickly here. This could mean a couple things. Your parents sound like fairly toxic Idealists, either Exploded Lions or Exploded Birds (I'm sort of leaning Lion due to the more emotion-heavy words like "passion" and "hatred.") Birds can feel bad, feel guilt, feel shame when looking back at an older version of themselves that they now consider morally repugnant. (Birds are human.) Idealists struggle with the angst of worrying that they are fundamentally wrong about the world. So you could be a guilty Bird, especially if your emotions feel wrong or unhelpful somehow. But you could also be a very Burnt Lion modeling Bird - because Bird seems safer, and you don't want to be a Lion the way your parents are.

When the friend-event happened, I thought that I was in the wrong, and that I had once again fucked myself over because of my passion and sureness in what I have.

"I thought I was wrong because I was acting like an Exploded Lion primary." Yeah, I'm thinking there's some sort of outside influence here that needs to be unpacked.

It took a lot of convincing and evidence for me to see that they were the assholes (albeit I wasn’t pure either— I was their friend, after all).

I'm definitely leaning Bird for you. A bird surrounded by Lions maybe, who sometimes uses Lion terminology. But Bird.

I am a planner and system-lover at heart. I’m not proud of it, but it’s just part of me.

What's with all this negative language? Being a planner and a system-lover is a wonderful thing to be. There's some Burning here.

The caveat— I have autism, so I’m not sure if it’s due to that or not. Hence the shortness of this section. Take it as you will, regardless of if it’s evidence or not.

I have autism and I'm a Lion Badger. People are different. The only real pattern I've observed is the way nerodivergent people disproportionately build Bird secondaries as coping strategies.

Honesty is maybe not the best policy, it’s still an admirable one. I wish, frankly, that my moral system was more honest. I feel like I have no set morals. That it all comes from elsewhere. Lion primaries have this set, intrinsic morality that I envy. My friend is a lion primary, and while my views have radically changed, hers haven’t inched. She’s always been honest about herself and what she holds true.

I'm doubling down on Bird primary for you. This is the perspective of a Bird looking in on a Lion. Lion morality isn't set or intrinsic - it's built, and it changes, but it builds and changes differently than a Bird's does (more slowly, usually). But there really is a pattern of Birds seeing it as more moral/easier/better.

And I’m still trying to figure out what “truth” means to me. I mean, yes, I’m a dry and blunt asshole, but that’s not really the same as gut morality. Internal honesty is what I want, and external honesty is what I have to some extent.

It sounds that you are going though a lot of very intense shifts in your life right now. You've got a diagnosis that has you questioning your place in the world. You've followed your parent's system all you life, and are now deciding that you don't want that. But now comes deciding what you do want, and that's a lot harder (especially for a Bird, who has to build it from the ground up.) You like the way Lions do things, but Lion primaries do not feel accessible.

I’m very clear with who I like. I can admit their faults, and even get annoyed or angry at them, but not even betrayal can stop me from loving them. I’d compare myself to the Twelfth Doctor from “Doctor Who” and Ponyboy Curtis from The Outsiders in that regard.

So maybe you are building a system with very Snake values.

Loyalty is one of my weaknesses. I get overly-attached to people, and so if/when they leave me, it shatters my world. But my brand of loyalty is mostly to people, not philosophical ideas.

... but you're not *really* comfortable with Snake either, if you consider it to be a "weakness."

I would consider myself somewhat philosophical (well, as much as a fucking teenager can be)

Teenagers are *extremely* philosophical, stop being so down on yourself.

but I can be somewhat vague in my beliefs.

Because you're still building them, give yourself a *second.*

If I were to rate the likelihood of what primary I think I am, it’s something like this:

Bird: 9/10 probability (maybe burned)

Snake: 7/10 probability

Badger: 6/10 probability (maybe burned)

Lion: 2/10 probability

What is it with Birds and numbered lists?

The “how”: I feel like I change in order to fit in. I mean, to some extent, we all do, but it’s far more drastic for me. With the lion primary friend, I act as a “Jason Todd” to their Batman. I challenge them, egg them on, crack jokes and become violently passionate and act like a nerd, and she simply watches, usually adding her own comments but mostly sitting on the sidelines by choice. We also joke that I’m the Ferris Bueller to their Cameron Frye. But, with another friend, I’m a parent figure. I listen most of the time, and sometimes jump in with creative ideas and we talk for hours about it.

I'm guessing Actor Bird, both because you can specifically list out the qualities that you "act" out. And because you're invoking and basing your performance off specific [fictional] characters. Which is a HUGE Actor Bird thing.

I go with the flow of a given situation as best as I can (with the added caveat of being autistic, because that does affect how well I can read a room). However, that’s where the adaptation ends.

Huh. I'm hearing Burnt secondary language here. "I'd like to go with the flow and read the room - but I can't, because I'm autistic." You can definitely *learn* how to read a room. Why do you think I'm so interested in (and good at :) personality systems? This is how I learned to use my Courtier Badger. I used to model Bird secondary like crazy, and I kind of don't bother anymore. I don't need the training wheels.

Planning: like I stated before, I’m a planner. I try to learn the most about a situation before jumping in. Sometimes, however, I stall the inevitable and miss my chance, so I jump in and wind up nearly drowning. And this dichotomy repeats. I overcompensate for a lack of knowledge in a situation by micromanaging, or I wind up sitting bored when I’ve already done everything I need to do. And yes, stress and boredom are equally as destructive for me. I try so hard to plan to avoid both of these outcomes, but it only works half the time. So, I guess I’m a bit of a “planster” overall.

I want to learn about a situation... but sometimes I "stall" or "drown" (Burnt language.) But planning also leads to "micromanaging" and "getting bored" (model language.) I think you've got a really loud Bird secondary model... but there might be something else underneath.

Collecting things is fun. Postcards, candles, lighters, crystals, rocks, 1940s hats, knowledge, stories, music, (original) characters, the list goes on. I’m a collector of whatever I can get my hands on. Hell, by this point, I can’t tell what’s my special interest and what I just enjoy (again, autism).

Oh my goodness gracious 'my special interest' and 'what I enjoy' are not two different categories!

But my systems and collections are my coping.

Figured.

I can’t say, though, that they hold any weight outside of emotional release. There’s nothing practical about knowing how they shot The Outsiders movie, or how crows have a flat tail and ravens have two main sections on theirs. All of this knowledge almost feels useless to me. I mean, sure, I’m great at school, but what else? Nothing, it seems like. And being good at school and nothing else makes a person go crazy when they can’t achieve their academic goals. But that’s a bit besides the point— I’m a collector, but I’m unsure how well this really fits into a secondary beyond a model.

Bird secondary model.

I invest in others more than I care to admit.

Oh man, are you a Badger secondary like me?

I genuinely believe in the goodness in humans, no matter how impossible it becomes. Even those who I don’t see any good in aren’t wholly evil. My perception isn’t law.

^ That's primary stuff. Maybe a more Badger-flavored system is going to work better for you than a Snake-flavored one.

But some people trust me: with their secrets, with homework, with relationship issues, with their religious struggles. And I try to help. I might not be good with it, but I do try to help as best I can.

Kinda sounds like a Badger secondary.

I use my planning and my categorizing skills and my knowledge to benefit others. I show up, I do what I need to do, and I don’t usually expect much to come of it. It’s nice when something does, but it’s not expected. And sometimes, these investments into others' lives and grades and relationships do pay off. I make friends. Those friends stick by me, and I trust them. I continue to invest in others, because I am a lover even though I’m cynical.

I think you're a Badger secondary.

And when that trust is broken, like the example in the beginning, I go to people who won’t abandon me to get a second opinion. When I say that I love someone, I mean it. So it hurts when they leave. It always does.

Oh that's your friends leaving hit you so hard. It's not an abstract morality thing at all, it's practical. You're a Badger secondary, and they were your base of support.

I’ll be frank on this— I’m almost entirely sure that I’m not a lion secondary. I’m fiercely efficient and some people see me as a good leader, but that’s it.

Lion and Badger are the two Inspirational secondaries. They're the one who sort of manage to collect armies or families as a side effect of existing.

Even with the leader example, I prefer interpersonal relations or to be alone. I’m not a big fan of group settings.

That's fair. I am also a Badger who really, really likes my own company. Or small groups of interesting people.

If I were to rate the likelihood of what secondary I am, it’s like this:

Bird: 7/10 probability

Badger: 6/10 probability

Snake: 5/10 probability

Lion: 0/10 probability

Other systems for comparison: I’m aware that MBTI and enneagram are, at worst, pseudo-science, but I still enjoy them regardless. At best, they’re fun self-help tools, and that’s how I try to use them.

MBTI: INTJ (Ni-Te-Fi-Se)

Enneagram: 5w4, tritype 514

Sagittarius sun libra moon cancer rising in astrology

FLEV or LFEV in attitudinal psyche

sx/sp (sexual and self-preservation) in instinctual variants

MBTI, Enneagram, and astrology are all fun in their own ways. (I don't actually know the last two!) And I can talk about them on their own terms. But this system was the best, and the most useful, when I went looking for words to describe myself.

I hope this is enough information, and thank you again if you do happen to do this! If you don’t, that’s totally okay. Have a good day!

Thank you for writing in. That was a journey! Thanks @thesketchykid for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #bird badger #birdpri #badgersec #bird secondary model #badger secondary vs bird secondary #autism stuff

33 notes · View notes

softyoongiionly · 4 years ago

Text

Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy @gldnrecs @naajix @bluewhale52 @nikkikenji @lustedkisses

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline.

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist.

War.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.

It should be normal.

To most of your district, it is.

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.

Today starts as any other.

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.

Thankfully, business is decent.

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.

However, the noise never comes.

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,” You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.” You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, “The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick, “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.

And she is absolutely right.

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

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery. Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?��

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing, “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

1K notes · View notes