#for every one “bad' man there are hundreds of ”good' men. generalization hurts more than helps in the wider scheme of things

[heroesneedalancer]

Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:

People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?

Comment by u/Meduselde:

Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.

They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.

And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.

EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!

EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.

Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

Don't give up. We will get through this.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, semifinals of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:

you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together

Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."

You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.

For Legolas and Gimli:

They literally have a running competition between the two over who has more kills. And non-canon my ass, Legolas took Gimli to valinor

They kill alot of orcs together. They make it into a competition. Better minds than i have spoken about the couple ness

[wintrrliqht]

Eric Bogosian on Chris Rock [1997]

Who's more racist: black people or white people? Black people. You know why? Because black people hate black people, too. Everything white people don't like about black people, black people don't like about black people. ... Every time black people want to have a good time, niggers mess it up. ... Can't keep a disco open more than three weeks. Grand opening? Grand closing. Can't go to a movie the first week it opens. Why? Because niggers are shooting at the screen. ... I know what all you black readers think. ... ''It isn't us, it's the media. The media has distorted our image to make us look bad.'' ... Please. ... When I go to the money machine at night, I'm not looking over my shoulder for the media. I'm looking for niggers. -- from ''Rock This!'' by Chris Rock

A Chris Rock concert is an exorcism by laughter. One of the first pure comedians to emerge in a generation, he makes us laugh not only because of perfect writing, skewed associations and rock-steady timing but also because of pain. The pain of how we've hurt ourselves with race, the pain of being a man, the pain of confusion. This is the flip side of the deep anger curdling the American dream; it is anger transformed into entertainment. Rock knows how far to go, like a crazed uncle who keeps tickling your toes while you beg for mercy.

Discovered by Eddie Murphy, Rock gained fame as a featured player on ''Saturday Night Live'' and ''In Living Color'' in the early 90's. He had a high-profile part in ''New Jack City'' and was a co-producer and star of ''CB4,'' but when ''In Living Color'' went off the air, Rock found himself without a job. So he returned to stand-up, working the clubs, honing his particular brand of streetwise humor. When his HBO comedy special, ''Bring the Pain,'' was broadcast last year -- with its defining routine ''Black People vs. Niggas'' -- it was clear that Rock, 31, was having a comeback.

Now he seems to be everywhere: in commercials for 1-800-Collect, on MTV and his HBO interview show, on a comedy album and in a new book, ''Rock This!'' Still, it is in concert that he is at his whip-cracking best. His influences range from Buster Keaton to Richard Pryor to Sam Kinison; he brings together a vast black and white audience to laugh at some of the most painful truths. In the end, Chris Rock is funny, and that's all that's important. Or is it?

Eric Bogosian: What's the difference between a black audience and a white audience?

Chris Rock: I'll give it to you in musical terms. When a musical act performs, the black audience goes crazy for all the stuff, the album cuts, everything. White audiences, they're nice and all, but they're not going to lose it until they get the hits. Comedy is the same thing.

Bogosian: How do you know when it is funny? When is the joke finished?

Rock: It's never locked. I mess with it every night. But I really don't improvise that much. I mean, 10 percent of the show is improvised.

Bogosian: What do you do when the audience doesn't get the good stuff?

Rock: I slow down my delivery. The natural thing to do when the show's not going well is to speed it up. Worst thing in the world. Slow it down. Make sure they understand everything you're saying. I'll think, Maybe the abortion bit won't play. But I don't drop that much stuff now.

Bogosian: Do you ever think you stink and they're eating it up?

Rock: I think that all the time. Out of a hundred shows I'll do in a year, I'll think maybe three are great.

Bogosian: Do you ever get angry at the people you work with because they tell you it's a great show and it's not?

Rock: They can't tell. My brothers, Andre and Tony, can tell, my producer, Nelson George, can tell, my sister can tell. Four people in the whole world can see people laughing and still say it's not a good show.

Bogosian: What about anger? You seem to move from mischievousness to malice to outright anger in your show. You talk about the anger of old black men and how they hide it.

Rock: When they're around white people they don't do anything. Then they get really angry when the white man walks away. ''Cracker!''

Bogosian: Young black people don't do that?

Rock: Old black men. These guys rode in the back of the bus. For a long time. And all that went with it. Hard to get rid of that. Someone like me, a lot younger, I didn't go through that.

Bogosian: I'm angry at everybody and I don't even need a reason. If I were black. ...

Rock: You're not.

Bogosian: No. But I get pulled over every time I get on an airplane. It's the ethnic hair, I think. But you seem angry at blacks, like you're resentful of your own kind. You pick on black behavior a lot.

Rock: I pick on ignorance. Anyone who thinks it's cool to be stupid.

Bogosian: There are blacks you are clearly angry at. You used the word ''nigger'' in your HBO show.

Rock: I guess I did.

Bogosian: Your audience is made up of whites, many of whom are happy to hear how lazy or stupid blacks are. You're using the word ''nigger.'' And some of the white audience is saying, ''That's right.''

Rock: Every ethnic group divides itself, criticizes itself. I know gay guys who say ''fag.'' What I said got more attention because it was black people, and we tend to get more attention when we do things.

Bogosian: ''Nigger'' is a heavy-duty word. You better have a good reason for using it.

Rock: It's not that heavy-duty. The thing with ''nigger'' is just that white people are ticked-off because there's something they can't do. That's all it is. ''I'm white, I can do anything in the world. But I can't say that word.'' It's the only thing in the whole world that the average white man cannot use at his discretion.

Bogosian: Your work is full of incisive criticism about the way people act. Is it important to get a message across? Or is it a kind of a cloak you're wearing because it's cool to say loaded stuff?

Rock: Really, really at the end of the day, the only important thing is being funny. I don't go out of my way to be political. My dad drove a newspaper truck. I just read the paper every day as a kid. I was bused to school. My [expletive] was kicked by white kids and I was called ''nigger.'' So I have a point of view. But the most important thing is to be funny.

Bogosian: Paul Reiser is a funny guy and Paul Reiser talks about relationships and it's very funny and it's very sweet and nice. You, on the other hand, are like Loki, you're like the Norse god of mischief who's coming in with that glint in your eye. You talk about Don Rickles a lot.

Rock: Oh, no -- no one's better. No one does a better TV appearance, no one sits down and does a couch better than Rickles.

Bogosian: Yeah, but I remember when Don Rickles broke -- that's how old I am. He used to do all these put-downs, and he looked like he meant it. That was the big thing in the early 60's -- sick comics. You talk about the organ donors who come back from the dead and they don't have any eyes. That's dark. You go after heroes of the black community. Marion Barry, O.J. Simpson. ...

Rock: Hero? O.J.'s picture is not hanging up in my grandmother's kitchen.

Bogosian: Is there such a thing as a black community, really? A welfare mother in Brownsville, a Nigerian selling watches on Fifth Avenue, an upper-middle-class Atlanta suburbanite, a nanny from Jamaica -- what do these people have in common other than skin?

Rock: If it all goes wrong with each one of these people, they'd end up living in the exact same neighborhood. That's reality.

Bogosian: But, I mean, I can't say I belong to the white community. There are plenty of white people who do not for a second include me in their community.

Rock: Automatically you're a community because you're the majority. I mean, it's like your house: you don't have a room in your house, it's your house. You know what I mean? Yes, there is a black community, and we have a room in the white community's house.

l

Bogosian: In this community the message from celebrities in music, on talk shows and in movies seems mixed. There's a lot of talk about family, about God, but there's also a glorification of the street, ''gangsta'' life style. Isn't that kind of schizoid?

Rock: It's about wanting to be accepted where you're from.

Bogosian: But it's like what the racists were saying in the first place -- ''Every young black man is a thug'' has become a cool idea. It's being promoted.

Rock: It's about acceptance at home. I'm always thinking, What happens if I had to go home, had to move back to Bed-Stuy? I'd want to be accepted. People think you're gonna flip out and come all show business and not talk to 'em. People get the big entourage and all and isolate themselves.

Bogosian: You might want that some day. Wasn't your grandfather a preacher?

Rock: My grandfather, who actually just passed, was a preacher. I would watch him and I would listen to stuff: Dr. King, you know, Malcolm X, Kennedy. 'Cause I just looked at it as kind of the same thing as I was trying to do, but without punch lines. I think anybody in front of a crowd is a comedian.

Bogosian: Is there a different kind of intelligence needed for comedy?

Rock: I'm not a smart guy. I dropped out of high school, I've read 10, 11 books in my life. ...

Bogosian: But that isn't what smart is.

Rock: Smart's knowing if you're dumb. Knowing when to shut up and to listen to people that are smarter than you. Put it this way, the inability to get a joke is the first sign of ignorance. Like when you tell a joke about a guy and he gets mad at you? That's a dumb guy.

Bogosian: Adolf Hitler had no sense of humor. Newt Gingrich. Humorless.

Rock: In show business, comedians are the smartest guys.

Bogosian: Well, you know what, Chris, you and I are like in parallel universes, and there's a lot of similarities ----.

Rock: No, I've watched your stuff, I'm not -- I do what a lot of the old white musicians did and watched all the black guys. I watch everybody's stuff, man.

Bogosian: Well, what I do is push people's buttons or get people shocked. And then I got some reviews a few years ago saying I wasn't shocking enough. So now, here's the new nasty kid with this razor-blade intellect ----.

Rock: Me? Razor-blade intellect? I had a 14 in math one time.

Bogosian: That's O.K. Look, I had seven study halls a day when I was in high school.

Rock: Fourteen, man. My mother laughed at the grade. If it was, like, in the middle of the 50's, she would have got mad. Fourteen was, like, this is hysterical.

Bogosian: Is there such a thing as a dumb successful comedian?

Rock: Well, yeah. They're not dumb, they're like Amadeus. Savants.

Bogosian: Like Gilbert Gottfried?

Rock: No, Gilbert's brilliant. I won't name names, but there's some guys, very successful. And you can overcome a lot of handicaps if you're willing to bust your [expletive].

Bogosian: You like to work really hard.

Rock: It's like boxing -- if you don't train, you're going to get the [expletive] kicked out of you. It's not like, you know, if you hang out in basketball, ''Oh, he had a bad game, mmm, he was off that night.'' Boxing, you get the [expletive] kicked out of you and you might not get another shot the rest of your life, that's how boxing is.

You know, the only bad thing about stand-up is that in order to work it out, you have to go back all the way to where you started. There's no other way to get good at it. It's like if Schwarzenegger before he does a movie has to go do a competition lifting weights. So I got to go, you know, to the Boston Comedy Club in the middle of the night. It's not, I will do it. I've got to do it. Or else I'm going to get the [expletive] kicked out of me.

Bogosian: So there's, like, this hair-shirt discipline to what you do.

Rock: I like to work at the latest possible hour and just try to get one of the worst possible circumstances. I like to work in front of all-white audiences to start it off, even with the blackest material. Because I know once I get this black joke to work, when I get it in front of a bunch of black people, it's really going to kill. It's kind of like a baseball player swinging two bats on the on-deck circle. I want to work in front of people who would never pay to see me.

Bogosian: What if everything were going the way that you liked -- if all the movies and TV shows had been hits?

Rock: I'd be the worst guy. I wouldn't be funny at all. No, when I was on ''Saturday Night Live'' I was the worst guy. I loved women I had no business being with. She had to look so good that people would go, ''Why's she [expletive] him?'' And guys would want to fight me. I didn't know how to handle any money. I made 90 grand my first year, so I bought a $40,000 car. Kind of stupid.

Bogosian: But no drugs.

Rock: Nah. I might as well have been drugged, though.

Bogosian: So what's next?

Rock: I'd like to write and direct a movie for myself. Now that I've achieved my greatest success just doing stand-up comedy, which is, like, the lowest medium in all of show business in levels of respect, I want to really take chances. I want to be funny in a lot of different ways. You know, I'd like to be great. I want to reach for greatness.

Bogosian: Is it going to happen in a movie?

Rock: No, it can happen in concert. Richard Pryor did his best work in concert.

Bogosian: Everybody says that Richard Pryor is the big influence.

Rock: Yeah, and that's the best-written comedy you've ever seen. Most every comedian probably, except for Woody, did his best work as a stand-up. And Woody was a great stand-up. Cosby's got the biggest show in the world, whatever, but his best work was stand-up. I mean, you can achieve greatness in comedy, you just have to realize that the critical masses just don't view comedy as great. I think Eddie Murphy should have gotten nominated for an Oscar for ''Nutty Professor,'' just on the performance.

Bogosian: You're not the first person to say that.

Rock: He played five or six people -- incredible, incredible, incredible. If he did that in a movie that had something to do with death or AIDS or something, he'd get nominated in a second.

Bogosian: So the millions are piling up. When will you be buying your Malibu cottage?

Rock: I live in Brooklyn and actually like living in Brooklyn. It's different between New York and L.A. People in New York are proud of what they do, no matter what the hell they do. In L.A., it's just a routine. No one's proud, everybody's like: ''This is what I'm doing now. Yeah, no, I'm a doctor, but I'm just doing that right now. I wrote a script, and me and the other physicians are shopping around.'' Everybody wants to be in show business.

New York's the best place in the world. You know what I love? It's like the garbage men will have a dance, and they'll rent out a big place, and it's cool. My brother Andre drives a truck. In L.A. you wouldn't want to say you drive a truck probably. My brother Andre is, like, the most proud truck driver you ever met in your life. He walks in a room and goes: ''See that coffee cup right there? A truck bought it to you. Everything in here. People talk about computers going to change everything. Hey! You got to get the computer. Who's going to get it to you? Me. The guy with the truck.''

Bogosian: Is this a routine or ----.

Rock: No. It's just my brother Andre.

Eric Bogosian is a playwright and actor. His new play

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Prolog ~ The tale begins

The lost boys x princess!reader

warning : reader is the princess, forced marriage, no use of y/n, fluff, comfort, attempted assassination, a little angst

Summary : Once upon a time in a kingdom the king with his only child was the princess of the realm. A young woman is the king's hope that his line will continue because after all, she too must marry, but she was not told that this marriage would come sooner than she would have liked. The bells and joys of the wedding ring out and a new royal couple rises to the inner incongruity of four men who pay more attention to the princess than they should. For all is not right in this fairytale wedding and dead bodies may appear before the marriage bond has even been consummated.

info : So the start of my second tlb - mini series i'm very excited because i could just write so much about the thing. The themes, characters and everything else i hope you all like the prologue and see you next week for part two of the six part series

series - masterlist

tlb - masterlist

Part.1 , Part.2 , Part.3 , Part.4 , Part.5

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

The story begins with Once upon a time...there was a kingdom in a faraway land full of possibilities, lands, houses, knights, towns and villagers. An old kingdom with many good and bad dark times but a kingdom that has existed for generations until this day.

The crown with blood-red rubies on the head of King Max, who had received it from his father and who from his is to the conqueror of this land who had his roots in distant Transylvania.

A king with sternness towards his enemies, with understanding for his people, a just man to his vassals and a father to his daughter, his only flesh and blood.

The princess of the realm, the only heiress to the throne who would take it on her twenty-first birthday when her father died one day. But that would take time, the king full of health and goodness for a daughter, the man who remained loyal to his first wife and swore to remain unmarried until his death. ,,You are the best of your mother," he used to say when he looked at his daughter, the same loving eyes, the sincere smile and the beauty that surpassed everything.

But it wasn't a shadow of war that settled over the land, no, there were always such things, there were daily hardships among the population and requests to attend meetings always came via the ravens.

No, it was the time that dragged over the land, it was the tradition and the natural rules that his daughter had to marry. ,,If you want to take this throne in the name of your husband and rule by his side, you need his hand and his presence...without this, I am powerless too, my child" his words were full of truth, but they hurt worse than any prick of an embroidery needle in her finger.

Pain that made her turn away from her father's calls, ,,I want to be alone father" she had only said and had walked past him out of her own room, knowing that she was only condemned to walk around until the king was gone.

Her eyes blinked away tears of anger, anger at tradition, at nature, at her sex which always seemed to weaken no matter what she did. Reigning in his name is like a gilded cage, she thought, raising her eyes to the sky as she stepped out onto the courtyard.

A few wispy white puffy clouds could be seen, the sun was coming out and warming her skin and a few birds were singing. It was peaceful and quiet for how long?

She was no longer a naive young girl who believed that everything belonged to her as she had always been told in the songs. No, every time she looked at herself in the mirror she didn't just see her mother's words, the spoken image, it was the time she saw.

With each winter that came and went, she grew older and more like a highborn lady, the princess of the realm...with a burden of hundreds of people on her. But I will not rule no matter how much I am charged, it will go to my husband she said innerly, not that she wanted to have everything on her own, carrying the crown and taking care of the girls she had accompanied all her life was a task she gladly took on.

But her friend Lady Star, a married daughter of a lord and vassal of her father, already had a son. She was the same age as she was when she had her son, the heir, at nineteen, an age that was perfect, as the masters and healers always called it, but it was an age that only frightened her even more.

,,Still nothing at twenty-one, either I'm blessed with luck or I'm poorer than I thought", she murmured and walked on across the courtyard past the servants who lived and worked in the castle.

But she knew that would change soon, perhaps there was still the coming midsummer in which she could enjoy nature with outings on horseback or a meal in the meadow with Star.

Her thoughts and fantasies were interrupted, however, when she heard the sounds of a sword fight. Turning her gaze to the practice area, she smiled as she saw the fair-haired knight and leader of the Kingsguard, Ser David.

Not only someone who had accompanied and protected her for ages, but also someone who had shown her the merits of the common people at one time or another. Slowly approaching, she watched as he demonstrated the best moves for a duel for the new recruits who were only a few years younger and he could have been a recruit himself.

But in his mid-twenties he had been appointed commander by her father himself, and not only had he proven himself in battle, he also had the strategies to show for it.

A natural leader. He always looks like he's having fun, she thought as she saw the slight grin on his lips as he seemed to swing the sword effortlessly, almost like an excited dance as he went around his opponent and struck.

The sparks like lights appeared again and again and his bright hair shone in the sun. He was a true knight from the love stories she read from time to time at night when sleep would not come. But then he took another swing and she saw it in his green blue eyes, the victory like a sparkle when he knew he would win and his smile became almost satisfied.

With a muffled clang from the sandy ground of the fenced square, the recruit landed on the ground and the sword beside him. ,,You fought well and-" he paused as his gaze met hers he had finally spotted her and the younger ones hurriedly followed suit and a half-sounding ,,Good day princess" came from the youngsters who hurried away as they saw the nod of their commander who picked up his helmet from the ground and came over to her.

She smirked, ,,They're more startled than mice," she commented and looked after the offspring who hurriedly disappeared into the King's Guard building and did God knows what again, words that also made David smile.

Nevertheless, he bowed to her personally, his hands gently caressing hers and placing a kiss on the back of her hand, ,,My princess, what gives me the honor? Or have you just come to see how little mice run?" he asked with a wink, which she dismissed with a roll of her eyes and she hooked onto him as they walked across the courtyard together. But he didn't seem to feel the tingling on her skin that his touch caused or were his eyes not on her hand?

Pushing the thought aside, she was silent for a moment before she began again, ,,I always like to come and watch you, a commander without training would be a shame...no, to be honest, I ran away from the king," she confessed, avoiding his worried gaze, sensing that he wanted to stop, but she braved it and he continued to walk with her.

In the end he always did what she wanted, he was just a knight and she was his princess. She saw his questions in his eyes and knew what he would and wouldn't ask.

But before he could open his lips, they heard the barking of dogs running towards them. ,,Looks like the hunter is back," the commander muttered, looking towards the gate through which their mutual friend and royal hunter Dwayne was riding on horseback.

His dogs Arthur, Jack and William, who had always been at his side since he took over, were gentle animals with friends and beasts to enemies and prey.

Detaching herself from David and leaning towards the animals, she stroked the soft fur of each one, which nudged her hand with their damp muzzles and wagged their tails happily.

But her delight was not spared, the dogs wanted to practically hug the blond and kept jumping on him, which amused the princess. She knew that David liked the animals, but with so much affection he seemed almost overwhelmed, hardly imaginable since she had seen him so responsibly before.

,,That's enough now," came the voice of the black-haired man who had dismounted his horse and was leading it by the reins behind him towards them, but he too hid himself with a ,,My princess...Commander" before a slight smile crept onto his lips and the tension of hunting and duty left him when he was with his friends.

His dark brown eyes and black hair were mysterious like the cloaked figures in stories, but his confidence and gentleness with animals was something that had always appealed to her. ,,Was it successful?" the blond asked, looking past his friend to the horse, which had a number of strange animals attached to its saddle and back, almost enough for a feast if one were to walk off the traps.

A nod came before Dwayne indicated he would take the horse to the places and his friends followed beside him, ,,More animals than usual good for us and good for my companions...the king has asked for a lot of meat" he admitted after a moment of silence as they arrived at the stable and the stable boys took the kill from the horse and carried it to the kitchen apparently they had been instructed to do so.

,,More meat? Winter is still so far away he didn't fear another famine," David mused, leaning on the wooden rail holding up the roof while Dwayne just shook his head and stroked his horse but the princess was beginning to feel uneasy. Her lips opened to let Dwayne know the reason for her uproar outside, and suddenly there was a stirring in the hay one stall over.

The three of them watched curiously as a blond tousled head of hair and the sound of bells could be heard and none other than the court jester Paul stood up. ,,Well, that was a nap...oh princess, it's so nice to see you all naked without any straw," the blond man said and rose with a broad smile at his own words before he moved away and put his jingling cap back on and put an arm around the knight's shoulder.

Suppressing a grin and rolling her eyes at his once again bad puns, she was hardly surprised to find him in the straw the last time he had fallen asleep on the castle tower high up by the banner. ,,Nice to see you drunk fool sober again," David replied and fished some straw off his and Paul's clothes that had stuck to them, ,,And not on a tree," ,,Or the tower," Dwayne and the princess replied before the group laughed at the confused expression on the fool's face as he shook his head and his bells rang.

The group not only smiled at the mostly eye-rolling jokes of the court jester, who, however, had his nose more in smoking substances and alcohol than in reasonably good books that would teach him to laugh.

The friend joined the group, not only was his stomach rumbling for food, but the straw seemed to be too picky for him after his intoxication, making his tousled hair look even more disheveled and messy, ,,Such behavior in front of the princess," she reprimanded, tapping the bells on his scarlet cap with her finger as Paul fished the last of the strands out of his hair.

The group next to her, each of the castle servants usually walked next to the princess since she was little, she had insisted. How could you have a proper conversation when your servants and friends were always several steps behind you, annoying and useless? The friends were almost complete, only one was missing who was usually to be found inside the castle anyway, Dwayne's remark about the meat, an even drunker Paul with even worse jokes and David who already had new recruits something was wrong.

Something was wrong as if a summer thunderstorm was in the air and would hit the land with a shock when no one expected it, ,,We're going to get Marko I need your eyes and ears something is going to happen" she said and headed for the next best door into the castle and her slightly confused friends followed her everywhere not only as subordinates, protectors and maybe more.

,,Our eyes and ears are here," the blond said with a chuckle and the others just sighed again at the fool's not-so-good words, ,, You mean the extra meat, the early recruitment and Paul's even worse condition aren't a coincidence?" Dwayne asked, ignoring the younger man's miffed look.

But her nod said enough So he's noticed too, she thought, wishing inwardly that she had paid attention rather than oversleeping and missing out on the weaving lessons by always picking up words of gossip. As the group of four walked through the castle, the men behind her followed the etiquette not only to avoid the punishing looks of the king but also to avoid setting a bad example for themselves.

The closeness they had to the high-born lady was already cause for enough talk…of any kind and relation. ,,Another tournament, even if one was made for you only a few moons ago, princess," the commander of the guard murmured in a calm voice and leaned towards her, ,,Perhaps, but I doubt for me my father the king will have made decisions without me on the council… a council without a place for me," she added and suppressed a sigh.

She was the royal blood, her father's heir and just because she didn't have a tail between her legs and carried a sword, such talk of politics and trade was none of her business, ,,It would only bore you and fill your head with more nonsense daughter" were her father's words as he ordered her out of the room in front of all the councilors, a shame she took from him to this day.

She loved her father and knew what he had been through, what burdens lay on his shoulders and yet sometimes he could not see the potential, as she felt, because of his blindness to her body.

Shaking off the thoughts, they walked down the stone stairs, the light of the sun present in the castle, but the further down into the cells they went, into the corridors of horror of his rooms, the darker and colder only the torches and lanterns soaked in fire showed the way.

A path they all knew they all knew the way to the one small room he usually stayed in when he wasn't putting his fingers to metal bloody instruments of torture.

The two guards downstairs saluted and let the princess through but closed the way for the other three, ,,Let them through I command it" she muttered with a sigh and a wave of her hand she appreciated the loyalty of the guards there had been enough fights in the time the king had been killed by his guards and worse.

They had all been down here before, the chill familiar and the muffled voices behind the renewed door told them all they needed. Walking into the small room where Marko lived, complete with bed, table, boxes and a few other things, seemed almost like a mouse cage as the four of them made their way inside. ,,Lovely and snug," commented David, who had already banged his sword against the furniture several times and Dwayne's whip caught on one of the chairs, ,,Now normally our bat comes to us not us to him," interjected Paul who sat down on the table and the princess sat down on the bed and was surprised to find no knife there

They kept quiet, either not knowing whether to comment on the bare furnishings, Paul's frayed hair with scattered hay still in it, Dwayne who was smiling too little again or David who was about to take out his pipe and smoke. ,,He seems to be doing his job well," she mumbled as they heard a particularly guttural cry of pain that was only amplified by the stone walls, which the three of them responded to with a ,,He's well, Princess," before it fell quiet again.

It was almost amusing whenever they were down here they hardly dared to speak or it took a moment it seemed like a good retreat from the duties and the sounds were a change from always just the hopeful fussing around.

But after a few more moments of the room becoming a tavern, David smoking, Paul making bad jokes, the princess lying on the bed and Dwayne tending to his carving, the door suddenly opened and Marko almost slammed the door in the juggler's face, ,,In the name of Satan what's going on here….good day princess," he added, bowing to his lady who rose from his bed more hastily than anything else.

The blond curly hair lips immediately curled into a grin which, with the blood spattering his face and hands, gave him a truly gruesome but above all adorable expression. ,,What an honor to be visited down here, is there something you need a tooth? Finger? An arm? Or an ear?" he enumerated and she looked in the small bag at his side as he tucked it away in a box, knowing that he was hiding his little specials there.

Something macabre, but it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine as she thought back to the harsh stories he had told her. The young torturer Marjo had taken over the trade at an age when others might have gotten sick of it, but no, he was just the devil himself and had been able to get lots and lots of information that way.

Blond hair like an angel, a calm spirit among new people and enemies but just as big a fool as Paul was when he was with them. ,,An ear for the dogs next time," Dwayne murmured and after a short search Marko tossed him a small leather bag in which the said object was probably located. ,,Extra big and tough for the hellhounds," Marko winked and joined David who put his pipe away so as not to envelop them all even more in smoke, especially so that the lovely rose scent of his lady didn't evaporate.

Marko placed his instruments on a cloth, the blood and pieces of hair and skin were visible on it but it hardly bothered anyone, ,,So why do you need me princess?" he asked and his bright eyes were on the dress wearer who was smoothing her fabric.

,,Have you heard or heard of any information about a tournament, an attack, an ambush or something big?" she asked, getting to the point, unable to shake the feeling inside her that something else was going to happen, something that would affect them all.

Marko leaned his head against the cool wall and thought for a moment while he cleaned his hands and face with a cloth, ,,No, no attack or ambush, at most smaller lords your father's concern. The tournament season is still here but no whispering there either unless-" he was about to continue talking when the door flew open and poor Paul was trapped behind it as a guard stood in front of it, ,,The king wants to see you princess immediately," he said, not caring about the grumbling Paul holding his nose.

What does he want now? the question popped into her head and she nodded, walking past her friends who nodded at her and David assured her, ,,We'll wait for you princess" and the men dismissed her with a bow before she walked back up the stairs alone, past the flames of the torches, through the corridors adjusting her clothes and jewelry and hoping the smoke wasn't too obvious before the door to the throne room was opened for her, ,,The princesses of the realm my king! " echoed through the grand hall with its tapestries, statues of her ancestors and weapons belonging to legendary heroes.

Moving forward, she curtseyed to her father and was surprised to see several advisors and a messenger standing in front of the throne, who greeted her with a greeting. ,,You wanted to see me father?" she asked and saw Max rise from the iron throne and come towards her, a gentle smile playing around his lips and giving him a few wrinkles around the eyes, he seemed to have truly grown older in recent years.

He came to her, suddenly clasping her hands and pointing to a hidden screen, ,,I know it will come somewhat suddenly but the kingdom will not be ruled by me forever. I'm getting older and times are changing and you are my only flesh and blood" he began, not paying attention to her increasingly confused look and the nodding of her innermost tightening more and more Surprises were one thing but this morning's conversation was something else entirely.

,,Yes, Father, but please, what would your Grace like to get out of this?" she asked as he walked around her again, his still cheerful smile fading slightly and he let out a heavy sigh before placing a hand on her cheek, a gesture he only made when he was burdened by something.

A gesture that only made her more uncomfortable and the words that followed gave her a blow that knocked the ground out from under her feet. ,,I as the king have decided to give you my legacy after my death my lands, titles and coins will go to you…as soon as you have consummated the marriage with Prince Michael of House Emerson when the full moon appears" the words left the king's lips, a command, an act of torture for his daughter whose own confidence turned to shock.

She backed away a few steps but her father reached for her hand instead and pulled her in front of the painting as with a wave of his hand the cloth was lifted and she looked into the portrait of a young man perhaps the age of her friends curly hair and a hauxh of a smile on the painting…but above all it was one thing not her wish and desire.

It was not her decision, her heart that did not desire him, her love and body should not belong to him, not in a few days as she realized with horror that there were only a few days until the full moon. ,,Isn't he a wonderful match for you? I heard he has a younger brother and his mother is said to be very spirited," the king continued to talk to her, seemingly oblivious to her fears and emotions, instead pulling her into an embrace when she could do nothing but nod appathetically.

Because in the end what was left for her to do being a princess had its advantages, you had more power than others, you were treated well but the marriage, the privilege and honor, the childbed was what she suffered…she gave her heart to someone she didn't want because the heart in this story already belongs to four people who protected it.

In this story that begins with a once upon a time, there always has to be a twist, a twist that would happen. A marriage between two houses, old and powerful, harbors not only happiness and fortune but also danger, a danger that lies in the air like the words written on these pages.

But what it will be that happens to her and who dries her tears who knows…maybe it will be the handsome commander with his urge to protect her or the calm and engaging hunter who would follow her everywhere, maybe even the nar whose jokes always make her laugh and whose jokes have always accompanied her or is her heart in the end with the highly skillful torturer with his stories that rob her of sleep.

Which heart did the princess choose in this story at the end between the four who have been with her all her life or the promised prince charming who might not be so horrible after all? Who should know except the eyes that will be found in the next chapter?

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

@misslavenderlady , @palomam18 , @rl-nancyholbrook , @ghoulgeousimmaculate , @oceansrose2002

[wtfsheikura]

Chapter 3

I CAN’T BELIEVE THE AUDACITY of this man. We’ve only spent five minutes together, and he’s already trying to get me to have sex with him—unbelievable. I’ve heard the rumors about him, but I didn’t think he’d be this brazen, and with me no less.

“That line may have worked on the roster of women you’ve been with in the past, but it will absolutely not work on me.” I scowl, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “If Suguru heard that you just tried to proposition me in a hotel bar, he would be appalled.”

Satour presses his lips together, attempting to hold back from laughing. “N/n, if I were asking you to sleep with me, I’d come right out and say it.”

I sigh in relief, but a part of me feels dejected at his apparent indifference.

“You’re not?” I ask, giving him side-eye.

“Don’t think for a second that it means I’m not interested,” he says, his Blue eyes twinkling with mischief. “A friend of mine owns a nightclub next to Premiere, and I always stop by when I’m in town. They serve top-shelf alcohol, which is loads better than the watered-down shit they serve here.” He gestures toward the liquor display behind the bar. “What do you say? Get a real drink with me?”

He thinks that’s more convincing.

“No thank you,” I say without hesitation.

Men spell trouble, and I can’t forget it. Although Sukuna's notion of embracing one night of making bad decisions plays in my mind. Getting a drink with Satour would undeniably qualify as a bad decision.

“Why not? It’s just one drink,” he urges.

I rub my temples, trying to keep calm despite his persistence. “Because I have a hunch one drink would turn into two with you,” I say bluntly.

The adult version of Satour exudes sex appeal and confidence and cannot be trusted. He’s the type of man I avoid like the plague. They lure you in with pretty words, lavish gifts, and empty promises—leaving you to pick up the broken pieces once they’re gone.

“N/n, it’s only a drink with a friend,” he assures me like he can read my mind. “It sounds like you’ve had a long week and could use a night out.”

“I have no interest in watching you get plastered and gyrate against every woman in the club. Now, why don’t you take a hint and disappear like Larry?” I regret my comment when a brief flash of hurt flashes across his face.

“Whoever caused you to become so distrusting deserves to suffer for what they did.” Satour places his hand on mine. “Word of advice. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Just because I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since high school and like to have a good time doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.”

He leans in so his mouth brushes against my ear. “For the record, I was going to take you to a piano bar on the club’s second floor. You’re the only woman I have any interest in spending time with tonight,” he murmurs as he lifts his hand off mine.

I feel a pang of loss when he moves back, takes out his wallet, and places a crisp hundred-dollar bill on the counter. He didn’t order anything, so I assume it’s to cover my martini and leave a generous tip.

A sense of unease washes over me when he slides off his barstool without a word.

I’d let him walk out the door if I knew what was good for me. However, despite my pretense of indifference, the thought of not seeing him again for an undetermined amount of time doesn’t sit well with me.

What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Sukuna’s advice from our earlier conversation pops into my head.

One drink with Satour Gojo can’t hurt, right? Like he said, it’s just a harmless night catching up between two childhood friends.

I must be a masochist because I have a habit of putting myself in situations with men who I think I can trust, only to end up hurt and alone. I shake my head in disgust. That line of thinking is exactly what Satour called me out for. I’m so cynical and quick to make assumptions. He has done nothing to deserve that.

When I look up, he’s halfway across the lobby. I toss my phone into my purse and chase after him.

“Gojo, wait,” I shout, disregarding the questioning looks from the other guests.

He spins around, searching my face for a moment, a grin lighting up his features when it seems he’s found whatever it was he was looking for.

His reaction sends another uncontrollable flutter through my stomach.

“Yes, N/n?” he asks, tapping his foot while he waits.

“I want to go to the piano bar with you if the invitation still stands.” I hold my hand up when he opens his mouth. “But I’m holding you to your promise about it only being one drink. We’ll catch up, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Sukuna would be so proud.

“If that’s what you want.” He opens the door before I can question him further, placing his hand on my lower back as we step out onto the street.

That was too easy.

So much for just one drink. I’m buzzed enough to feel more like the Y/n that Satour used to know than I have in years.

When we arrived at the piano bar, the line to get in was wrapped around the block, but we were ushered inside and taken to the best seats in the place, offering the perfect view of the stage.

We’ve been here for over an hour and I’m still awestruck by the charm of the place.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the plush velvet couches and polished marble flows. The massive space is filled with the notes of a grand piano playing a lively jazz piece as servers hurry from table to table.

Our waitress appears and shoots Satour a flirtatious smile while checking him out. She set her sights on him as soon as we were seated at our table. The noticeable gap between us speaks volumes, indicating we’re not a couple. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

“Yeah. Can we get another shot of tequila and another whiskey on the rocks?” he says as he taps his empty glass.

“Certainly,” the waitress coos, her voice dripping with honey.

I roll my eyes at her obvious display of interest. She couldn’t be more transparent if she tried.

“Thank you.” Satour gives her a grin before she walks away.

Our waitress isn’t the only one who has noticed him. Every woman in the piano bar steals glances in our direction, blatantly eye-fucking Satour every chance they get.

His wavy hair falls around his face, concealing most of his scar, except for a small section near his chin, adding a touch of mystery to his appeal. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and his muscular forearms are visible with his rolled-up sleeves, making him irresistible eye candy. 

I appear to be the only one immune to his charm.

At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“You were glaring at the waitress again,” Gojo observes. “Did you want something other than tequila?”

“I was guessing how long it’ll take you to invite her back to your room tonight. Just say the word, and I’m happy to make my exit so you two can have your privacy.”

“Somebody’s jealous.” He scoots closer and throws his arm over my shoulders.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

I attempt to move away, but he gently pulls me back into his embrace. “I’m making sure there’s no question that I’m here with you,” he says softly.

His words cause me to melt into his arms, reminiscent of our high school days when he would comfort me in the same way… I forgot how much I missed it.

The waitress reappears at our table with our drinks in hand. “Here you are—” She stops short when she notices Satour’s arm around me.

“Is there a problem?” Satour raises a brow.

“No, not at all,” she says as she collects our empty glasses.

“That’ll be all, thanks,” he says, effectively dismissing her.

I don’t miss her crestfallen expression at being rejected.

Satour has a way with women that draws them in. He has always been kind, genuine, and straightforward, qualities women appreciate. In contrast, my frosty demeanor turns most men off, but it hasn’t fazed Satour. Even when I told him off, he brushed it off like it never happened.

“Cheers.” He holds up his glass of whiskey, bringing it close to the shot of tequila I have in my hand.

“Cheers,” I echo as our glasses clink together, downing the shot in one swallow.

This is my fourth shot since we arrived. I’m not sure how I’ve allowed myself to get so tipsy. After my watered-down martini at the hotel bar, the tequila was a welcome improvement.

This has to be my last drink, or I’ll end up doing something I’ll regret, like kissing my brother’s insanely attractive best friend.

As Satour lifts his drink to his lips, I notice a flash of color on his wrist.

That can’t be what I think it is.

I grab his wrist to examine it closely, a splash of whiskey spilling onto my arm from jostling his glass. He’s wearing a blue and white corded bracelet on his right wrist that looks identical to the one I gave him when he was in the hospital recovering from his accident.

“Is this—”

“The bracelet you made?” He pauses, looking me in the eye. “Yeah, it is.”

In high school, I went through a phase where I learned to make macrame friendship bracelets. I made one for Suguru and our friends. I had planned to give Satour the one I made for him at school, but he was hit by a car the night before.

When Suguru and I went to visit him in the hospital after his accident, I brought the bracelet with me.

“Why do you still have it?” I ask breathlessly.

“It’s… special,” he states matter-of-factly. “When I was in the hospital, everyone who came to see me looked at me with pity. Even Suguru treated me differently. But not you. When you stepped into the room, you cracked jokes about how pale I was and how you were convinced I had been turned into a vampire.” He stares into the distance as if he’s being drawn back into the memory. “I told you I was worried about what everyone would think of me when they removed the bandages on my face, and that’s when you gave me this.” He rubs the faded string between his fingers. “You told me whenever I felt discouraged, the bracelet would serve as a physical reminder to have courage and to remember that I’m stronger than I think. And you were right; it’s been my lucky charm ever since.”

I gaze at the visible part of his scar. It’s clear he views it in a negative light—a physical reminder that he’s different. I wish he could see it the way I do.

When I lock eyes with him, I confirm his sincerity.

The bracelet’s colors have faded, and the edges have frayed, and yet he’s continued to wear it all these years.

My breath hitches when he reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. If I were sober, I would swat his hand away and remind him that this is just drinks between friends. Tipsy me seems to have forgotten about boundaries, leaning into his hand like a kitten being stroked on the head.

Maybe I’m not so immune to his charms after all.

“I have a confession,” he murmurs so softly I have to strain to hear him. “There’s something else I kept.”

“What is it?” I don’t bother hiding my curiosity.

“The napkin that we used to sign our marriage pact on. Do you remember?”

I stare at him wide eyed. “I do.”

How could I forget the worst day of my life up to that point being turned around because of Satour’s thoughtfulness?

My boyfriend dumped me just hours before our senior prom. I was humiliated that I was naïve enough to think that we were going to be together forever.

When Satour found me reading behind the old Yaga house, he listened to me ramble on about soulmates and how worried I was that I’d never find mine. The joke is on me because I learned the hard way that there isn’t such a thing. Relationships never last, no matter how much you want them to.

Most friends would have laughed off my silly notions, but not Satour. He came up with the idea for us to sign a marriage pact as a backup plan, and despite my new perspective on love being a myth, I never forgot the sweet gesture.

“I figured you threw it away.”

“Never.” He gazes at me, and up close I can see the golden flecks in his blue eyes. “I liked the idea that in an alternate reality you’d be mine.” I feel lightheaded when he caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles rubbing against my jaw.

The sober me would tell him he’s full of shit and remind him that a woman can’t be owned. Too bad the tipsy me is relishing the fact that Satour Gojo just confessed in a roundabout way that he kept the marriage pact we made in high school because he likes me… or at least he did.

“I have an important question to ask you,” he says.

“Which is?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

He leans in closer, like he has a secret to share, and trails his fingers along my arm, sending a course of electricity through me at the touch. “Please tell me you’re single,” he murmurs.

“That’s not a question,” I quip playfully.

“I can’t ask you to marry me if you’re with someone else,” he says with a mischievous, boyish grin.

An uncharacteristic giggle escapes my lips. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It makes perfect sense.” He removes his arm from around my shoulder and clasps my hands in his. “We’re both single, in our thirties, and there’s a chapel right down the street. Marry me, N/n.”

I stare at him, trying to process his words. “We haven’t seen each other in fourteen years,” I remind him.

Thanks to the alcohol, it’s like my brain is on a coffee break, leaving me unable to come up with a better retort.

“So?” Satour murmurs. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, don’t they? Some connections can’t be ignored, no matter how long you’ve been apart.”

I knit my eyebrows in confusion. “What are you saying?”

“Marry me,” he repeats, sidestepping my question. “Our pact still means something to me, just like this bracelet does,” he says, nodding to his wrist. “You mean something to me.” Satour cradles my face, sending a shiver down my spine. “Haven’t you heard the best things in life are worth waiting for? Now that you’re finally here with me, I don’t ever want to let you go.”

I briefly close my eyes, wishing he’d stop saying all the right things.

After being engaged to a cheater with average looks, tying the knot with Satour would be a major upgrade. He’s devastatingly handsome and charismatic. Not to mention I’ve known him since we were kids.

“You’re serious about this?”

He nods his head. “I promise I’ll make you happy. You just have to give me a chance to prove it, N/n.” My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to my forehead. “Make me the luckiest man alive, and agree to be my wife.”

Nibbling on my lower lip, I feel the weight of his gaze.

Maybe this isn’t such a terrible idea after all. He has worn my bracelet for all these years and admitted that our silly marriage pact meant something to him. Plus, he punched Toji Zenin in the face when he stood me up at our senior prom. That’s true loyalty.

Wait. Am I really considering this?

Warning bells ring loudly in the back of my mind, reminding me those aren’t valid reasons to marry someone, but one too many shots of tequila have drowned out my logical thinking.

“When was the last time you did something just because you wanted to? Be brave, N/n, and take this leap with me,” Satour urges.

“Gojo, are you daring me to marry you?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs. “Is it working?”

“Yes,” I say, a grin spreading across my face, reflecting his contagious excitement. “I think it is.”

[hjellacott]

"Woke" Culture is the "You can't have a flaw" Culture. That's why Cancel Culture it's intrinsic to Woke.

Look at anything through a magnifying glass, you'll find a flaw. Look at your parents. Your friends. Your grandparents. Your house. Your culture. Your society. Your teachers. Your priest. The more you expose yourself to them, the more they expose themselves to you, the more attention you pay, the more attentively you look, you'll find a flaw. A friend will, probably unintentionally, say something that if you think in-depth about it, sounds "kinda" racist. A parent will comment something that maybe in the beginning you won't think much about it, but later, it "kinda" sounds homophobic. A grandparent might say something rather misogynistic. What they say will depend on their education, their culture, their times. Of course, the majority of the time, they don't intend to cause any hurt or offence to anyone and, if you point out what they've said could be misinterpreted or considered wrong, they'll probably hurry to say that was never their intention. That they're not racist, homophobic, sexist. And they're probably saying the truth.

People say the things they say because they've grown up feeling free to speak their mind (one of the Human Rights is freedom of speech, thought and religion, so this is a good thing), and at least in the case of good people, they never say the things they say with an aim to cause offence. That's why forgiveness and understanding are key to relationships. For example, my grandfather was a Catholic conservative. He lived WWI, WWII, and our civil war. He was nearly a hundred years my senior while I was a teenager. Of course he was from another time. I knew his heart, though. I knew that in his heart he was a good, kind, hardworking man. You might've argued that I was biased, but truth is, you should really look at somebody's actions more than at their words. So even though conservative speech, sometimes somewhat homophobic, racist or sexist, would come out of his mouth now and then, the reality was that all he was parroting were the society's beliefs of the world in which he lived the last time he had an active social life, at least fifty years before. So I looked at his actions. Was Grandpa actually racist? Well, the woman we hired to help him around the home when he was 90 was POC, and he was so lovely to her. He also behaved kindly, in general, to everyone in every interaction. He never had a truly demeaning thing to say about a POC person (indeed, all the racism that ever came out of his mouth was rather vague). So I concluded he wasn't. Was he homophobic? Well, he did consider gays to have some problem, as it was the belief when he was young, but he treated my gay cousin with nothing but respect. So I considered he wasn't. Saying what your society said, what you were educated to believe, wasn't homophobic, so long as you didn't act on those thoughts. Was he sexist, then? He did believe men were the natural breadwinners, and women had to look after the home, but he had three granddaughters, myself included, and a daughter, and not a day went by that he didn't encourage us to study, to be independent, to have jobs, to choose and build whatever life we wanted for ourselves. There wasn't an ounce of sexism, indeed, in the way he treated and behaved with women.

I often witnessed my Grandpa having somewhat heated arguments about politics. My dad was a liberal left-winger, and he was the first in the family, so of course fights were due to happen. But I never saw Grandpa insult my dad, criticise him as a person, say a bad word about him, or put a hand on him. They would row about politics, but they loved each other to bits. That told me pretty much everything I had to know about my Grandpa: That conservative words would logically come out of his mouth, but he would always act respectfully, even lovingly, with everyone, no matter their colour, their sexual orientation, their sex, their class... Not only that, but he would show remorse and sorrow if someone got offended about something he said. He might've been too stubborn to apologise each time, but he was a very expressive man, and you could tell.

People from my generation often had this type of grandparent, or of parent. We often got shocked about something that was said from someone we knew to be kind and loving. And so we had no choice but to learn to understand, to see why someone said something, where it came from, and filter it through everything we knew about the person. That's how I for example knew not to take certain words from my Grandpa seriously, because his actions never reflected them. If he was kind to everyone, if I could bring any friend over and he'd be so sweet with them (as my few classmates who came to family lunches at his place would often tell me), that was all that mattered. Back then, that was all that mattered to any of us. Actions, not words.

We were great at knowing somebody's heart and using it to filter whatever they said, what they meant, why they'd said it. And we were great at evaluating whether the benefits outweighed the problems. For example, back when I was a teenager, Friends was VERY popular. It still is, but back then it was legendary, everyone watched Friends. If you look at it with the lens of today, through a magnifying glass, however, it will happen like what happens when looking at my Grandpa through a magnifying glass, and specially when things are taken out of context. You suddenly think, hang on, that is a bit racist!

We noticed those things already back in the 90s and early 2000s, you're not the first. The thing is that we experienced things in the proper context. Friends reflected our society of the time to a T. Nothing about it was extraordinary. You saw the same things out in the street than you did watching Friends or Sex in the City. And an amazing phaenomenon happened. Firstly, if you were a bit young (for example, I lived the end of Friends, but the beginning caught me long after it'd been filmed), for some bits or all of the bits, what you saw helped understand why people older than you in your life said and did certain things. Indeed, when I saw the kind of things my Grandpa must've seen when he was in his 20s, everything he said made total sense.

The more you understand how the world was before you, the better you understand how people that came before you and with whom you disagree are not necessarily evil, or less lefty, or less kind and thoughtful, but from a different culture. That's about the time when you understand conservativism doesn't mean wrong, just different.

Secondly, if you were living the exact times being depicted, or the year difference was small, all you saw were the benefits. I don't watch shows like Friends to become an illustrated. I watch it to laugh. To disconnect from a bad day. To be enamoured by the friendships and relationships depicted. And even if the occasional racist, homophobic or sexist comment comes out, I ignore it in favour of looking at the actions. For example, you have the character of Ross, who perhaps was the most likely to say what today would've been considered wrong. Most likely to be Cancelled, let's say. Well, you might've disliked him for what he said, but if you looked at what he did, he was a man who deeply respected and cared about his ex-wife even though she left him for a woman. He fell in love with a black woman. He treated women so, so lovingly. He treated all of his friends like family. And he was always willing to come around and admit he'd messed up and apologise. That mattered more than the occasional crap that came out of the mouth of a man in his twenties. We've all been in our twenties. A lot of stupid shit is said in your twenties, and it doesn't make you a bad person.

The difference between back then and now is that back then, we all knew nobody was perfect, and nobody pretended to be or demanded others were perfect. We looked at people's actions as a definitive judge of character, not words. We respected and forgave. We educated respectfully and patiently. But now, everything is considered so serious. Now, any joke can be very deeply offensive. Now, everything needs to be perfect from the get go.

These days we only seem to look at words, not at actions. You say the wrong thing once and you're Cancelled, doesn't matter what your actions are, what your kind gestures are, or that is the first time in your life you've made a mistake. You're not forgiven. You can never take it back. You can never fix it. You can never learn.

We live in a flawed world that Cancels mistakes and errors and doesn't give room for forgiveness, for reconciliation, for improvement. We live in a world where words mean more than actions, leading to phaenomenons such as Performative Activism. And words are also regularly decontextualised and twisted to cause offense and outrage. We always need to know what NOT to say. We have to be perfect all the time or Kill Ourselves. To be born knowing all the right things and all the wrong things, to see the world constantly and exhaustingly through a magnifying glass, to have 0 Tolerance for anything out of the "Right", and strict ideas about what's right and what's wrong.

But what if the world is not right and wrong? what if there isn't black and white? What if we remember that we're all flawed, and become more tolerant, more compassionate, more about leading with actions, not words, about educating, not punishing, about gentle teaching, and less hitting with a cane? Then we'd return to what we loved most about back then. In the meantime, we'll continue to live in a world where you can never be sure somebody means what they say, where people's actions are ignored and only their words are believed, because nobody can speak freely, and so they repress, they tell you what you want to hear, and they hide their truth until it explodes.

[youryanderedaddy]

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit. 

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience. 

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were  calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it. 

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a  half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others. 

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism. 

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve. 

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

 ***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place. 

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire. 

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

[hellsbellschime]

I always love your takes on Dany because I think you explain her really well and was wondering what you think of this take by a Dany stan. It's got some uh... interesting ideas. Sorry too because it's quite long

The main difference in between Daenerys' political arc, and that of other "heroes" and their Houses is that Dany's is not currently a political arc relegated to fighting for Targaryen grievances and wins. Meanwhile, all other main House representatives in the narrative (Starks, Martells, Lannisters, Greyjoys, Tullys, Tyrells, Baratheons) are generally fighting precisely for nothing else but their own (and their Houses') grievances and wins.

That's where the double standards come in-

+ Daenerys is harshly and minutely judged for the quality of her every act, upon every single person in her narrative, bc her arc involves her aim to hold responsibility over the wellness of all these people.

+ Everyone else who are part of the Great Houses however are merely judged as per how they perform towards the wellness of their own Houses, because that's all they aim to perform for.

One girl dies in an act Dany is not directly involved in, particularly in intention, and the discussions are endless as per the repercussions and outrage of the occurrence. Because Daenerys took it upon herself to defend all these people, and this seems like a failure, particularlyin her POV: one girl with no other importance in the story and a few lines, among maybe millions. One girl. Hazea.

Robb Stark and his men, on the other hand, will kill, maim and rape thousands, or even tens of unnamed thousands, and there is no outrage; rarely discussed repercussions. Because Robb's political arc is not about protecting nameless people. Not about caring for the fate of one-liner non-noble characters. His arc is about the grievances of House Stark. About Ned. Readers judge him upon how close he gets to getting revenge on Tywin and Jofrrey, about how well/or bad he leads wars, not about what kind of leader he is to people, what kind of 'monster' he is to enemy commonfolk. The relevance of his eventual loss is not about the fate of his people, or enemy people, either. It's about his personal tragedy. It's about the tragedy of the remaining Starks.

There is outrage for Daenerys even killing her (leader) enemies. For everyone else, it's an undisputed aim.

Daenerys is even already judged for the possibility of a future where she will anything that concerns her actually being Daenerys of House Targaryen in Westeros. The possibility that any Westerosi people might die, while hundreds of thousands may have been dying so far at the hands of other Great Houses (directly and indirectly), and it's mostly irrelevant for them. But for Daenerys that judgement is everything. She is looked through the lense of "if she's a Queen she's meant to protect them, not kill them" tho she has not yet been granted that status, while those who have had the status of Kings, Queens and Lords of Westeros in the meantime have been responsible for the deaths of their own people all of this time.

No noble Northener really cares for a Jeyne Poole, least of all for a Hazea.

Daenerys alone is (harshly) judged as a leader of people, because that's her current actual arc. She is not Daenerys of House Targaryen currently, in a real sense, not really. Her family and House don't really matter where she is now, and to what she is doing.

Almost every other noble character (and I only say almost to partly exclude those not taking particular part in politics) is given the leniency of the tragic MC in a tragic family drama biopic. ALL THEY ARE IS X PERSON OF HOUSE Y. And in most cases nothing else matter. - end post

Well, obviously no hate to this person whoever they are and I don't necessarily think it's a bad take just because I disagree with it. I particularly DO agree on things like Jeyne Poole, and I think that is GRRM very intentionally trying to point out some huge hypocrisies with everyone in the story, even the "good guys", because it is incredibly unfair that no one will come to save Jeyne Poole while a fuckton of people will come to save "Arya Stark" just because they cared about Ned.

But where I don't agree is on that aspect in particular. Because it's not about winning or airing grievances for these great houses, a lot of their actions are largely driven by the fact that they simply care deeply about the other people who are involved in the war now or who have been hurt or killed in the past wars, and that is largely what is motivating many of them to do what they do. And in even more intense cases, they're going to war because they are in extremely immediate danger.

This is true for both villains and heroes, I mean Robb and Cat go to war against the Lannisters because there is an immediately mortal threat to their entire family, and even though Cersei and the rest of the Lannisters are clearly villains, their actions are also driven by an immediate mortal danger that their family is facing. And it's safe to say, a huge portion of what happened in the WOT5K would never have even occurred if a lot of these people weren't put in a position of "HOLY SHIT me or someone I love is about to die RIGHT NOW if I don't do something so I better fucking do something".

I feel like the story makes it clear that the wars that they are fighting are very pointless and brutal anyway. I mean FFS, GRRM does not accidentally traumatize the shit out of Arya by putting her in a commoner's position in a war that is supposedly being fought in her name. So I actually agree with the writer in the sense that there is a double standard when it comes to Dany vs. everyone else, but I feel like the double standard is valid because all of these characters for better or worse have a dog in this fight. Whatever they've done is incredibly personal and therefore pretty irrational for them.

And the fact that the men are rallying to save Arya Stark when they wouldn't rally to save a thousand Jeyne Pooles is very telling and demonstrates that they are extremely hypocritical, but it's also telling because they're not fighting for the "heir to House Stark". They repeatedly talk about how they're fighting for Ned's girl. It has very little to do with her nobility and power and a great deal to do with how these people feel about Ned not as a Stark, but just as a person that they knew and cared for who was horribly wronged.

So while I agree and recognize that a ton of the main characters have done the wrong things, often for the wrong reasons, it's personal, it's emotional, and it's irrational. And in a lot of cases it is driven by something as simple and pure as "I am about to die if I don't do something so I'm doing the first thing I fucking think of to get out of it". Even for the houses who initially got involved as a power play, it has become very much about the people that they care about and their own feelings rather than strategy and house advancement.

That doesn't magically make it moral, but it does make it hugely distinct from what Daenerys is doing. Because Daenerys doesn't have a dog in this fight at all. She has absolutely no personal ties to Westeros or anyone in it, and she is not in any danger from anyone in Westeros. Literally the only Westerosi person who has ever even really tried to kill her is a man she doesn't know and is already dead, and the only Targaryen she ever knew who even had a connection to Westeros was someone she hated who abused her horrifically and who is also already dead.

Ergo, Dany is a villain because she literally has no personal or political justification for the massive war that she's going to bring to Westeros. She is going to leave the place she's in that is a complete mess and desperately needs help even more than it did after her intervention, and she's going to invade a place that she doesn't care about beyond some imaginary concept she has about it in her head, has no connection to, has no need for her, and poses no threat to her.

She's not fighting for anything besides herself and her own sense of entitlement over Westeros. She's more harshly judged for her actions because they are completely driven by her own whims and desires and nothing more. She has the opportunity to think things through and plan and get advice and actually figure out the best way to do things, whereas every character in Westeros is reacting to something very immediate that they don't have a lot of time to consider and that is deeply emotional for them. But still, she doesn't even do that.

She's judged for all of the mistakes she makes because they're unnecessary and foreseeable mistakes. And, if she actually just waited and tried to figure out what to do instead of basically throwing herself into situations where she's suddenly overthrowing governments and ruling hundreds of thousands of people without a plan or any governing experience, then a lot of the bad things that have happened as a result of her campaign wouldn't have happened.

And obviously, I think this is a very intentional move on GRRM's part. I think he establishes that war is pointless and often outrageously hypocritical with the WOT5K, but there's a reason he gave Dany no one she loves and no one who needs her help and no one who poses a threat to her in Westeros. She's going to bring war to an already war-ravaged continent simply because she feels like it should belong to her.

That is drastically different than Robb going to war because his father has been falsely charged with treason or Cersei murdering Robert because he will try to murder her children if he finds out they're not his. And while all of the wars in ASOIAF are terrible and purposeless in the end, GRRM is going very far out of his way to demonstrate that Dany has literally zero justification or even explanation for why she acts the way she does beyond her belief in her own super-special entitlement.

[nanamismoonchild]

chapter 3- entrance

pairing: god!namjoon x goddess!reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut , greek god based au

warnings: this chapter is chill :D

wc; ~1.6k

Summary:   You’re a beauty. He is handsome. You’re Life. He is Death. You love him. But does he love you? There’s only one way to found out. And it’s by being the Queen.  

A/N: ngl im starting to love oc/reader persephone. what do yall think?

prev/next

The journey to the Underworld was quicker than you had imagined it would be. Possibly because of Jungkook rowing quickly across the Styx in a hurry to meet your demand. The ferryman was afraid of going any slower than he usually did in case you decided to feed him the other drachma that hung from your ear.  It was not as pleasant as you expected it to be. You could hear the agonizing moans of the Wraiths who lurked around the river Styx. They were doomed to be there for at least one hundred years as a result of not being able to pay the dreaded fee. 

The boat rocked back and forth, some of the water sloshing onto your feet. It was cramped and you could feel your backside begin to hurt from falling and from sitting on the bare floor of the dingy boat. 

Thankfully, the ride was over soon. The blue man helped you off of the boat while Jungkook was forced to glance at everything but you.  Probably because you were now wet and naked, something you hoped to remedy soon. 

“The entrance to the Underworld is just beyond the hill. I’m afraid your friend will meet Hecate as soon as he crosses the threshold. I am very ashamed of how I treated you Persephone. I beg your forgiveness,” Jungkook’s hoarse voice pleaded. He knelt down in front of you and kissed your feet. 

How sweet. 

“I will think about it. I still have to meet your ruler. Where would he be located?”

“In the throne room. He’s usually always there. I-I will escort you there.”

“There are too many dead people waiting to be taken across. I will guide myself. A throne room should not be hard to find. Consider yourself dismissed.”

You took the blue man’s hand and marched towards the entrance to the Underworld. It was strikingly brighter than the rest of the domain. The symbol of Namjoon, a large cornucopia that spilled its bountiful contents while a scepter was embedded into it, was the golden highlight of the door.  It was most definitely the only welcoming sight you had seen thus far. 

You could hear growling on the other side. 

Your mother had told you many stories of the land of the dead. They had been as dull as a well-used sword. The sheer boredom from listening to your mother tell the tales had put you to sleep as a child. Hearing the growls of the multiheaded dog named Cerberus, who guarded the entrance into the Underworld, made you wish you paid more attention to them. You had no idea how to pass the guard. Killing it was surely not an option. You had no plans to upset the God of the Underworld with any of your reckless behavior.

Unless it was in self-defense. 

Cerberus’s growling became louder as you neared the golden door. The energy from the door was making the Blue Man shake with nervousness. You were shaking as well, but it was mostly from the cold air that wrapped around your naked body. Hopefully, someone in the castle would offer you something to wear. That or you’d simply just steal the clothes off of the nearest servant.  

“How do you even open this door? It’s huge!” You exclaimed as the both of you stared at the door. 

The Blue Man shrugged and gestured a pushing motion.  He hadn’t spoken since the two of you dropped down into the Underworld. Perhaps he was afraid of you after the stunt with the ferryman. Good. 

“You want me to push the door? By myself?” The Blue Man shook his head quickly.  “That’s what I thought. We’ll push together on the count of three and once it opens, even a little, I want you to peek over and see if the guard is near. I do not have the time for running for my life in the Underworld.”

The Blue Man nodded again and placed his hands on the door, putting himself into a lunging position, prepared to push on the door with all of his ghostly might. You mirrored his stance. 

“On three, one, two, three, push!”

Both of you pushed and immediately fell faces first into the threshold of the entrance. The door might have seemed heavy, but it was the entrance to the underworld. It was as light as a door to a home.  

Groaning, you sat up on your knees and took a peek at your surroundings. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen but his growling could still be heard in the distance. 

The door had spilled you and the blue man onto a pathway that forked into two paths. The ferryman had mentioned Hecate, and if you remembered correctly, the goddess ruled over crossroads among other things.  The fork was obviously a crossroad but where was the goddess?

“Dear Persephone.  There are many crossroads here in the Underworld. This is the one your little friend is supposed to see,” the goddess’s voice echoed as she appeared behind you. 

You startled and swiftly spun around to face her. Hecate had a knowledgeable smile on her face. 

“He knows what he must do. I have set up a nice set of decisions for him. He can choose to live and be reborn in Elysium. He has done many good things in his life. Or the other option is to live as a servant to Namjoon. Perfect right?”

“I do believe that is as fair as it comes. You are very generous.”

You turned towards the man who was turning a lot less blue. You could just make out his facial features. He was handsome for someone who lived poorly. His hair was nicely combed into a fashion that men wore these days-a side part that showcased his broad forehead.   His jaw was set in thought as he pondered his decision. This was his fate. 

He took a hesitant step towards the path as if he were weighing the benefits and outcomes of each path. You could only imagine what he could be thinking about. 

He could be reborn, but what if his new life was even harder than the last. He wouldn’t remember his old family, his children, his wife. He would have to create new memories, good or bad,  if the new life let him. 

On the other hand, who knew what the ruler of the Underworld would have him do. He could live out his eternity behind in the castle walls, bowing to every command. He had possibly about the kindness  Namjoon showed his servants and the freedom they were allowed. He only requested they complete their duties.

 Could he live with that? Could he live with knowing that he would be allowed to remember his old family, and possibly see them in the future when they grew old or died an early death such as he did?

The man took several more steps before he was bounding towards the path that led to the right. And then he was gone. 

“What a wonderful choice he made,” Hecate sighed dreamily at your side. She was holding a torch that had manifested in her hand as the blue man’s light disappeared.

“What choice did he make?”

“I cannot tell you, Persephone. But I do think you’ll find out soon. The throne room is just beyond that same path. I’m sure Namjoon is waiting for you. Goodbye.”

After answering and not answering your question, Hecate disappeared leaving only a white mist in her wake. Fortunately, she did leave the torch that floated in her place. Grabbing it, you straighten your shoulders and step into the same path the man had taken only moments ago. 

The man had simply vanished but the path before you seemed to stretch on for the gods know how long. 

“Of course, it would be hard for me. It isn’t my crossroad to walk on,” you muttered to yourself and continued on. 

You were beginning to regret not turning around (a first for you) before you heard the murmuring of voices. You started running in the direction of the voices.

Please, please, please, let there be a fire or something. My body is on the verge of hypothermia.  

The murmurs were becoming louder and you could make out a faint glow. 

Finally. Finally. 

You burst out into a crowded room. The murmurs had been coming from the servants who were surrounding something in the middle of the room.  They were all dressed in a mix of black, white, and grey clothing. There was a fire near where you had come from, so you snuck over to get a little warmth and to eavesdrop.

“Oh wow. Someone new!”

“He could take over my extra duties.”

“No mine!”

“Why did someone so handsome choose to become a servant?”

“Everyone, shush! Our King is coming.”

The crowd quieted down as loud but calculated footsteps resounded through the room. Everyone was holding their breath, including you. You had never met Namjoon in person as he preferred to stay in his domain.  

Nothing prepared you for the man in front of you. Your mother had always made it sound as if he were the most average man alive. 

He was nothing like that. Namjoon was exceptionally darker than the proposed pale that your mother had told. He held himself with an aura of royalty.

Namjoon made his way up to his throne where he stood tall and proud in front of his audience. 

“We have a newcomer today,” his deep tenor resonated through the room, “Please come up and introduce yourself to me before I sit.”

The man who you had journeyed with kneeled before Namjoon. He was dressed in the servant’s clothing and his brown hair was pulled back into a bun. 

“My name is Kim Seokjin. And it was an honor to serve you today, by leading the woman who you have been desiring to you.”

[watevermelon]

Expectations | Shirabu Kenjirou x Reader

✧ Summary: Having attended Shiratorizawa Academy from junior high, you were familiar with most of the students in your year. They were average, nothing special — until a certain vbc setter, from god knows whatever small town junior high he crawled out of, changed up your world. -> Tag: maybe language cause it’s shirabu; fluff and jealousy + slight angst

---xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx---

Shirabu Kenjirō was a living, breathing pillar of salt. And it was rightly so. He was the friend, the shoulder to cry on, and the person that everyone viewed as reliable. This was not entirely a bad thing, since he was viewed as much more dependable than others. And this idea was not limited to volleyball. But being placed in that category separated him from the very people who put him there. The girls viewed him as, at most, a friend. He was the king and leader of the friend zone.

It was the end of his second-year and he would soon be taking over as captain of the boys’ volleyball team. He justified lack of love life on the fact that he had bigger things to focus on. And after their crushing defeat, Shirabu reasoned that Shiratorizawa needed a focused captain to lead them to victory.

But the road to triumph was… rather lonely.

Shirabu had his team with him one-hundred percent and silently appreciated them for their confidence and own unfailing determination (he won't admit out loud!) But it seemed like he was surrounded by couples. His kouhai, Goshiki Tsutomu, found comfort in another first-year that was a regular on the women's volleyball team. 

Couples were disgusting.

Of course, majority of the members of the male volleyball were single. Ushijima was a super volleyball idiot and his focus seemed to never stray from the sport. But even with his cinnamon roll personality, the female base of Shiratorizawa seemed to flock to him. He was undoubtedly very handsome and tall. His grades were well above average and his fan club was incredibly prominent. Ushijima had all the makings of a great man and was noticed as such by a large pool of the student body. The difference was that Ushijima was willingly single.

Shirabu, deep in the non-explored depths of his heart, wanted to be noticed like his Senpai. When playing volleyball, Shirabu strived to be the type of setter that went by unnoticed and drew out the strength of his ace. And he knew the consequences of such. But still. He was the main setter on a highly prominent team and his skills are not hard to notice.

Maybe it was his rough personality? Pft. He would never change that for a person, no matter how special.

Shirabu was above average height and had amazing grades in a prestigious powerhouse. What wasn’t there to like? His sense of style was trendy and he was complimented on his clothes more than once. He as not too preppy like Goshiki and not too wild like Tendou. Was it his looks? His bangs were unusual, but they weren't as bad as coconut-head/bowl/Goshiki. Since entering adolescence, he failed to ever break-out and was blessed with marvelous clear skin. On more than one occasion, he would stare at the mirror and truly wonder just why.

Why was no one interested?

Enter you.

You attended Shiratorizawa in both middle and high school. Coming from a wealthy family, there was nothing standing in your way. You were fairly popular and had seen the multiple personalities flit through your advanced classes. And in your first-year came Shirabu, an outsider to Shiratorizawa from a lower-class middle school. After being in the system for three-years, you knew almost everyone and seeing a new face was refreshing.

From the very start, you wanted to bet to know him more. But he was incredibly reclusive and mysterious to the general student body. Nobody could answer your questions. Well. Nobody except a certain Salami and volleyball idiot. You shared an advanced statistics class with the two third-year volleyball players in your first year and from them you were able to peer more and more into the life of Shirabu Kenjirō.

“Why do you want to know, (F/N)-chan?” Tendou instigated, “You have a crush on him?”

“Please, Salami calm down.” He raised his hands and gasped, “Come on. There isn’t a single person in this school who I don’t know and suddenly nobody knows anything about him?”

“He is smart and adaptable.” Ushijima chimed in.

“And a little shit, that’s for sure.” Tendou stated. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention back to the statistics teacher. Sure, you wanted to learn more. But this class was hella hard and you still needed good grades. Eventually, you were able to gradually acquire more information and Kenjirō. You learned that he was the only player from the boys’ volleyball team to not get into Shiratorizawa with a sports scholarship. Instead, he got in on his own accord through the arduous exams and good grades.

The more you discovered, the more you liked him.

Shirabu had a work ethic that you hadn't seen in a while. Being in this particular school-system for so long ruined your perception of it. You perceived most of your classmates to have a truly pretentious or judgmental personality, but showing to be as sweet as honey to your face. Of course they wanted to be your friend, who wouldn't with your last name?

He hadn't.

Shirabu was straight-forward with a tongue laced with salt. Sign you the fuck up!

He had no qualms about talking back to you and you looked forward to your daily banter with an odd smile. It was strange. You could get any nice, sweet boy in the whole school. But what was the point if they didn't mean it? Shirabu was honest - a trait that should never be given up, even if it offended others. You would rather have someone give you genuine advice - even if it was mostly mean - rather than an empty friendship.

You had majority of the same classes together for the second year in a row. And you were the only person who would had the immediate desire to sit next to Shirabu as a partner. You silently viewed him as a friend, but there was always this barrier that you could never get over for your friendship to deepen. His time was always dedicated to volleyball. And you did not play any sports anymore.

You watched the volleyball team's crushing defeat to Karasuno and the heartbreak it caused to so many people, Shirabu included. The women's team was resorted to tears and you could not even look at the men for too long. Reon and Semi were so sweet and you wished you could protect them for all the bad in the world. You had never seen Shirabu cry before.

Shirabu... He seemed to only display emotion around his team. And this made sense since those were the people that he was closest too. The rare occasion you had seen his smile was when you had watched a game. They had an overwhelming victory against Johzenji High and you spotted the small grin on Shirabu after he scored the winning point. Your heart could barely take it. You only wished that he showed that side more to you...

He was friendly, but distant enough for you to want more. Shirabu was not cold to you and his harsh chitchat did not hold any true malice behind his words. But he never opened up to you. You wanted to learn more about him personally and if you wanted to, you would have to pry and almost force him to speak. He would give curt answers and then be done with the conversation. But, on more than one occasion, you would spot him typing away on his phone. It was no secret that the boys’ and girls’ volleyball team were fairly close and had a groupchat shared amongst them. You silently wondered if he was texting a girl from the team.

That thought had you instantly deflated and made you wondering if you ever had a chance with Shirabu. You were not one to be easily defeated, but with every brief conversation and blank expression he gave you, you considered giving up altogether. This happened around Valentine’s Day of your first-year. Shirabu was abnormally delighted and even smiled in the classroom at someone’s joke. You figured that sure, it was the day of love and he probably had something lined up for himself and his significant other – that was why he was so happy. And it hurt your heart. He smiled, but it was never because of you.

From there forward, you tended to avoid him to evade the imminent heartache every time you saw him. This was hard since you literally sat next to each other in most classes, but something entirely doable. You would leave the classroom immediately after class, show up right before it started, and not initiate conversation. It was always you that had previously opened up discussion, so when you had stopped there was little to none at all.

Shirabu caught up to your change and silently questioned it. On multiple occasions, you would catch him observing you from the corner of your eye and you silently hoped he would not question you outloud. Within a week, he was ready to corner you.

You were at your locker right after class, ready to pack-up and head over to photography club. He was silently bounding towards you and when you closed the locker he was standing right-there before your eyes.

“Did I do something to offend you?” He asked the moment your locker closed.

“No…” You stated haphazardly, clutching your backpack.

“You’re never his quiet or shy.” He noted, “Did something else happen?”

“I have to get to photography club…” Shirabu put his arm on the locker and blocked your exit. He was tall and there was no way you could out-run him, you were trapped.

“Don’t lie. We know it starts in twenty-minutes. You might be on the executive board, but you have a lot of time.” He sighed out, locking to the ceiling and then back to you. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“… Am I your friend, Shirabu?”

“Of course.” He did not hesitate to answer. “And it’s Kenjirō.”

“What?”

“Call me by my first name.”

“Oh.” You paused and let the name roll of your tongue, “Then you should call me by my first name too, Kenjirō-kun.” His eyes widened at the added suffix and a rosy dust covered his cheeks.

“Was that it?” He asked, “Come on, (F/N). That’s an immature reason to ignore me.”

“How was I supposed to know?” You questioned, “It never seems like you actually want to talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you now.”

“Outside of this!” You were beyond frustrated, “Ugh I’m fine now go away.” You lightly pushed his arm, but he did not budge.

“As if that would convince me.”

“You are so annoying.” You commented, “You never initiated conversation. I thought I was just bothering you.”

His gaze on you softened and you could not break the eye-contact, “You’re an idiot.” He teased and then ruffled your hair. That was the first time he had ever done physical-contact with you and you almost exploded then and there.

“I’m an idiot?” You repeated before walking away mid-sentence, “I’m hoping you treat your girlfriend better.”

He paused and let us hand drop down to grab your elbow before you go away. “Girlfriend? Where did this come up?”

“I thought…” Shit, you let that thought slip out-loud, “The men and women volleyball teams are close. And I’ve only ever seen you hang-out outside of class with them and those girls. I just assume...”

“You assumed wrong.” He quickly cut-off, “Ugh. What am I going to do with you?” He asked as he grabbed you into a hug. You returned the affection and you knew that a blush must have stained your face! And what was that question?

Shirabu continued, “So was that the real problem? You were jealous of my supposed ‘girlfriend?’” He laughed at his question and you were going to die from his smile. God it was so rare and you wished he graced you with it more!

“No! Don’t get too ahead of yourself!” You yelled back, but it was muffled against his chest. He leaned back to see your face and teased you for your embarrassed expression.

“You’re an idiot.” He laughed again.

Since then, your friendship with Kenjirō was gradually improving. But it seemed that there was this silent barrier that you could not overcome. You could talk about your problems, but not about his. And since then, he had not initiated any physical contact. If you ever brushed hands or simply leaned against him, he should shift away and pretend it never happened! Did you really make any progress?

Finals were coming up and that was giving you one last chance to spend time with Shirabu before the end of the schoolyear. Sure, you could always ask your father and he had the power to put you two in the same class again next year - But! Did you want to waste your last year together pinning after him?

Your study group was comprised of yourself, Shirabu, Kawanishi, and two people from his class. Kawanishi was in Class 5, which was also advanced, but he was so damn lazy! You saw his potential and only wished that he tried harder and quit fucking around.

The three other members of the group were missing that night and the two of you were left alone to grovel over English. Your English was better than Shirabu’s but the opposite could be said about history. You paired each other well and aided the other's faults.

You commented on this once jokingly, saying, "You complete me!" He simply rolled his eyes and brushed it off before continuing to study.

Damn. This boy cannot take a hint.

You attempted to show the boy your advances. But it seemed Shirabu would shut you down at every try, almost like he knew what you were doing and was firmly against it. A part of you considered backing down. He had made his intentions clear for two straight-years, maybe you should not waste another year on someone who obviously does not want your attention?

That thought last for a second before you waved it off. There was no one else you were even remotely interested in. If he said no, that’s fine. But you were probably not going to peruse anyone else.

Both you and Shirabu were spacing out from over-reading the textbook and happened to make eye contact. "What's on your mind?" You asked.

"Things you cannot understand."

"You really think that low of me?"

"No. I'm going to be the captain of the volleyball team in a few weeks."

"Wow."

"There's no way your pampered ass would get it."

"You think about my ass?" You teased, but he pretended to ignore the question. You spent enough time with him to notice the minute narrowing of his eyes and the slight curve in the corner of his left lip.

Damn, this boy had you bad.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Kenjirō." You comforted, "You're very smart and reliable. I believe that your training won't betray you."

"Reliable..." He murmured. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean?"

He scoffed at your question, "Exactly. You won't understand."

"Then explain it to me!" You exclaimed.

"Why should I?" He seemed just as inflamed.

"Because I care about you! You big, dumb, idiot!"

Shirabu paused before fully looking at you, surprise evident. "Well, everyone expects this idiot to be reliable and lead the team. But..."

"But...?"

"That's all that people expect from me. To be the smart one. To live to everyone's expectations and shoulder the border of living up to the name ''powerhouse.'" He was getting more agitated and louder with each word.

"Woah, calm down."

"I can't calm down! In a few weeks, I'll lose the ace that I've admired for years and majority of our regular team! How am I supposed to fill in their shoes when we're losing one of the top 3 spikers in the country?"

You had no shame in grabbing his chin and turning his full attention to you. "Listen here you idiot. Don't interrupt me! I said don't! I stopped sports, but I know this is something entirely inevitable. Your senpai's are moving onto the next phase of their lives, but it's not something you can stop or change. You have to accept the future and make the most out of it and I know you will. Shiratorizawa is not the only school with graduation. Your rivals and others will lose their precious third-years and its then will you be able to analyze them and attack. But you need to calm the fuck down."

Shirabu was hanging onto every word. Nodding at some parts and fully taking in what you were trying to convey. At the end of your speech, he pushed your hands away from his face with a slight rosy dust on his cheeks. No woman, outside of his mother, had ever done that to him before.

"You're a real pain, (F/N)." he started, "But thanks. I needed that."

"No problem, I just want you to know that I can be here for you." You extended your hand to cover his own on the desk.

His eyes latched onto your hand before he averted his gaze and attempted to pull his hand away. You kept a tight enough grip to keep it in place, but not enough to hurt. "Must you touch me so much?"

"You are such a tsundere, oh my god." You commented, "Of course, I had to like you."

He stilled and looked directly into your eyes, as if that would confirm your previous statement. "Are you really that surprised?" You asked. "You're really handsome and you have the type of personality that I find most attractive."

"Tsundere?" He joked.

"No. You're honest." You admitted, "You're not like the rest of them, who only see dollar signs when they see me. You've roasted my ass multiple times in class and I wouldn't have it any other way. You say the truth and don't sugar-coat your words for anyone."

"I like you." You simply stated. You watched the words seem to finally reach something in his mind and at this point he seemed to panic. He pulled his hand away and you did not hide your outward hurt. Shirabu made a lame excuse and quickly packed up his stuff to leave.

You never felt more sad and alone.

XXXXX

Shirabu was freaking the fuck out. He wanted someone to notice him and it had to be you??? You were beautiful and nearly perfect in every way. Your beauty went beyond the physical level and you were blessed with intelligence and an even greater family tree.

None of this mattered to him before. You were his friend and classmate and probably the one person in class who did not endlessly irritate him. How could you possibly have feelings for him? He didn't deserve you, not a bit. He had an endless list of faults, including his knowingly sarcastic personality, and you were the friendliest person in school! No way. You could be happier with literally anyone else.

He could not deny all your positive traits, even though he made an effort to ridicule you. You were an overall amazing person and he could not deny his latent crush on you. But he had squashed it since your friendship was mostly comprised of friendly banter. You could never have feelings for him, he previously thought. So he would rather treasure your friendship and watch you from the sideline.

However, Shirabu had to admit that it was a dick move of him just to leave you there after your confession. He was usually the type to speak his mind and your feelings must have blinded his brain. He set-out to clear the air and admit why.

In class the next day, you were nowhere to be found and refused to respond to calls and texts. Seeing you so affected, Shirabu could not help but feel like a huge ass. He owed you big-time, but he had to start somewhere: an apology. Shirabu had to clear the air and make it known that he appreciated your affections, even if he had to deny them. He was not above annoying you and did such continually.

Knocking on your dorm room, he showed up right at your front door.

Shirabu heard movement inside, but not closer to the door. He called your phone again and heard the ringtone go off from within, just for you to mute it. He knocked about eleven more times before you opened the door.

"What do you want?!" You asked as you swung the door open with full force.

"To clear the misunderstanding, (F/N)."

"God, you are so annoying. Did you know that?"

"You are too. Now hear me out, you crazy."

"Excuse me?!"

"Please." You sighed and moved aside for him to enter and he did such. He uncharacteristically took your hand and guided you to sit-down on your bed.

He paused, as if to fully think about his words, before sitting next to you. "You need someone who has time for you."

"What?"

"I'll be the captain soon and I do not want to disappoint anyone. I'll be busy and unable to be the proper boyfriend."

"Is that your only complaint to this relationship?"

"No."

"What else?"

"You deserve someone who can make you happy."

You gave a small laughed and asked, "Who says you don't already make me happy?"

He stared at your for a moment before asking, "What?"

"I don't want someone who you think will make me happier with kind words or bullshit. I want someone honest." You candidly admitted, "And we are friends already. I know you're dedicated to volleyball and I don't want that to change. I already know how you are and that’s why I like you more than anyone else. You alone can make me happy. For someone smart, why is this so hard for you to understand?"

He sputtered, unable to give a cohesive reply and for once you saw be great Shirabu struggle over his usually articulate words.

"Wait." You realized that he had multiple complaints about this relationship before you interrupted him. "Just be straight with me. Do you have feelings for me?"

It was at this moment that Shirabu had the clearest view of you. You were in the closest proximity than ever before, sharing a seat on your bed! He could gaze clearly into your eyes and sense the distress and vulnerability from your previous words. He stretched the silence and you took that as a rejection. He immediately rectified the situation by grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss at the top.

"I never thought you were interested in me." He admitted, "I thought I was deep in the friend zone. So I would have rather kept your friendship than risked ruining it."

"You're an idiot." You smiled grabbing his wrist to pull him closer. He obliged and allowed you to place a light kiss on his cheek.

"Now will you be my boyfriend or will I have to convince you?" You whispered in his ear to tease him and could literally see the shiver go down his back as he stiffened.

When you pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded and you silently wondered if his dominant attitude translated romantically.

You didn't have to wonder long since he returned the favor and went even further, nibbling your ear lightly before placing butterfly kisses around your neck. "Maybe you'll have to convince me."

You laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, quickly taking command and enveloping his lips against your's. However, you did not have it for long and the setter was quick to flip the positions and hover over you. He gave one his rare smiles and you felt one breaking out across you'rs, stretching from ear to ear. Shirabu, who was in no rush, descended back down to your silky lips - noses bumping and hands fisting into each other's hair. His grip was firm, but not tight enough to hurt. You moaned, unintentionally, and he took that as an invitation to lick the entrance to your cavern. You parted your lips quickly, eager to feel his tongue against yours. The rest of the day went by ignored, the two of you enveloped in each other's affection with not a single care in the world.

[lovely-ateez]

Favorite Place~

ꕥPosted: 3/8/21

ꕥGenre: College!au, Angst, Fluff

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Emo!Hongjoong

ꕥWord Count: ~4.8k

ꕥWarnings: General angst (happy ending), Unknown man being creepy to reader, Characters insulting reader behind her back, Alcohol intake, Driving with a few sips of alcohol (please don’t drink and drive), Implied violence, Language, Oral (f recieving), Unprotected sex, Corruption kink, Language

ꕥA/N: Reader is a girly-girl bc we need more rep that isn’t hella negative and to actually be portrayed as smart and hardworking for once 😤 You👏can👏be👏both👏 ANyWay—thank you for bearing with me while I wrote this

I ran my hands along the open science textbook laying upon my desk, eyes scanning rapidly over the information. The pages were thin and flimsy, clearly showing the book’s age. If I wasn’t careful, the pages would rip with ease. Not that I had time to actually think about that.

In less than five minutes I, along with the twenty five other poor souls who took this class of their own volition, would be handed our last final for the class. A hundred and ten questions in an hour and thirty minutes.

The class was basically academic suicide and had I been told that, I would have stayed far, far away from the class. But no. No one bothered to run that by me.

A whiff of familiar cologne filled my nose and against my better judgement I looked up to find the class genius, Hongjoong Kim. It was bad enough that he was smart as a whip and never needed to study, but on top of it all he was a dangerous, handsome, irresistible bad boy.

He gave me a wink, a sly smile resting on his lips. I gave him the same reaction I always did: a blank face. There had been multiple times he had tried to rile me up, whether that be say something flirty or wink, or “accidentally” touch my shoulder, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of any reaction. I would keep a blank face, hoping that he would leave me alone.

I wasn’t immune to his charms. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me just like any other girl he tried it on, but I didn’t want him to know that. The biggest reaction I had given him was an eyebrow quirk at most.

I could tell it bothered him. I knew he was frustrated that he couldn’t get me to blush or stutter my words, and that may have been part of why he kept up his antics. Probably the entire reason, knowing him. Had he not been a fuckboy, I might have fallen for him. Might have.

I returned my eyes to my book and heard his footsteps walk past me, headed to the very back of class. His usual spot.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” A loud clap could be heard from the front of the room, our professor signalling the start of class, “It is time for your final. I hope you all are well prepared. I ask that you remove anything from your desk aside from a pencil and I will begin to hand out the tests. You may leave as you finish, just make sure to hand me your tests before you leave. Good luck.”

Book already off my desk, I gripped my pencil, hoping six hours of studying was enough.

“Thank you.” I muttered to my professor as he placed the stack of papers on my desk.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

-

I handed in my test with a smile, hoping that I’d pass. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the classroom, seeing a familiar face. At the noise of my footsteps Hongjoong looked up from his phone with a devilish smile, eyes staring me down. I must’ve not noticed he turned in his test before mine, not that I was surprised. He always finished his test the quickest out of all of us.

“How’s it going, pretty-in-pink?”

Pink was my favorite color and and I wore pink clothes often, unfortunately it had earned me several unwanted nicknames, all coming from Hongjoong.

I barely bothered him a glace, “I have a name.” 

“But your nicknames are so unique to you. Don’t you love them?”

“Can’t say I do.” I walked away, not interested in entertaining him any longer than I already had.

“Farewell, princess.” He fleeted me with a honey-like voice.

Suppressing an eye roll, I gripped the straps of my backpack, ecstatic to get away from him. The more time I spent away from him the better. The less time I was with him meant there was less of a chance for me to get attached to him. I refused to let that happen.

After I left the building I grabbed a coffee and walked to the library, bracing the cold weather. I only had one final left and I needed to make sure I studied enough. Just one last push before I was done for the semester. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, I saw a familiar face who smiled at me and I sat down at his table.

“Hey! How do you think you did on the final?” Lia asked me as I took my laptop out.

“Honestly I don’t know. I don’t want to say I passed because knowing my luck, if I do I’ll fail it. I knew the majority of the answers though, so there’s that.”

“That’s a positive.” She cocked her head, observing the way my eyes were glued to my laptop, “So what are you studying for now?”

“Criminal Psychology. I don’t take it until late tomorrow but I wanna get some studying in.”

“You’ve been studying for hours, you’ll be fine. Let’s just go shopping instead.”

My ears perked and I slowly raised my head, “Damn you. You know I’m not gonna turn you down.”

A wide smile formed on her face as she placed her hands behind her head, “What are friends for?”

“Oh don’t look so cocky.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve won here. Now let’s get going.”

Lia stood up and slid on her backpack, a smile still plastered on her face. Just as I was placing my laptop in my own backpack I heard a string of male voices and a mention of my name.

I gave Lia a look and, curiosity taking over, I snuck closer to the direction of the voices to see a group of men at a table hid behind a large stack of bookshelves. There were four of them, not a one of them sitting properly in a chair. Two were sitting on top of the table, another with his legs propped on the table, the other sitting upon a backpack which itself was on a chair. I could only see two of their faces and didn’t recognize either.

“We’ve gotta invite the token good girl, right?” A tall man with dark hair smiled, leaning back on the table.

A man with distinct dimples, clad in all black scoffed, “Y/n? Like she’d go to a party anyway.”

“She might.” Hongjoong tiled his head, allowing me to see him, black earrings swaying as he looked at the man with dimples.

Oh. He’s there, too.

“She dresses like she still believes in the tooth fairy.” A man with a blonde ponytail scoffed, “You think she’s gonna come to a party with people like us?”

I grabbed Lia’s arm to prevent her from storming over. She was upset, I was too, but I wanted to keep listening. Still, I couldn’t deny the pang of hurt I felt as I looked down at my pink skirt and cropped top. Was it a crime to like the color pink?

And I thought I looked cute today...

“You should be the last person to judge someone over the way the dress, Yeosang. You never wear anything but black. If she likes it, then she likes it. Fuck you.” Hongjoong bit back.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t know why he defended me, maybe he was just defending fashion for fashion’s sake and it had nothing to do with me, but it was still nice of him.

Yeosang smiled, “Damn someone’s aggressive, huh? Someone might almost think you’ve got feelings for the girl.”

Hongjoong remained silent.

“Ooh is she still not reacting to your desperate attempts to woo her?”

Hongjoong quickly became defensive, “Listen, I’m not-”

“Okay we’re not getting into this. Just invite her, you never know what she’ll say.” The dark-haired man said to Hongjoong, “And invite her friend, too. She wouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point. I’ll talk to them next time I see them.”

I turned to face Lia, whispering in her ear, “Let’s go. Please.”

Her face told me that she would much rather confront them, but changed as my eyes began to water once more. She nodded and put an arm around me, leading me out of the library.

A tear fell down my cheek as we walked. I raised my hand to wipe my face when Lia did it for me. She pulled me into a tight hug, running her hands through my hair.

“Don’t you think for a second that you’re any less of amazing. Fuck them for not seeing it.”

As she spoke more tears began to fall and my breath hitched, “But-t they-”

“No. There’s no excuse for being shitty to you, especially when you haven’t done anything to wrong them.”

I nodded, trying my best to believe her and steady my breathing.

“What can I do for you? What can I do to help?”

Releasing Lia from my tight grip I stepped back and looked in her eyes, “Nothing. Let’s just go shopping.”

My friend nodded and slipped her hand into my own, something she would always do when I needed comfort. I squeezed her warm hand, following her footsteps as she led me to her car.

“So...you’re not gonna go to the party are you?”

“Yeah I don’t think so.”

She let out a hum in approval and nodded, opening the car door for me.

As much as I wanted to take my mind off of the boys’ words, I couldn’t. No amount of retail therapy seemed to help that. I knew Lia was doing her best to make me feel better and I felt a bit guilty for bringing down the mood. She scoffed when I told her, making eye contact and emphasizing that she simply wanted to make me feel better.

Sooner than I liked, we had to part. Lia had a class in thirty minutes and I had to help out in an on-campus activity. She gave me a tight hug and a small smile, bidding me adue.

I was the Vice President of our Activities Planning Board and as such was in charge of setting up an Academic Bowl for the competing students. Unfortunately, I was having trouble setting up the large tables and my small frame just made it harder. I was confident anyone around could see that I was struggling and I huffed, hoping no one would look my way. It didn’t help that I was outside in the middle of campus, where anyone just walking by could see me.

“Do you need any help?”

I turned to find Hongjoong with his dark backpack slung over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. Had I not desperately needed help, I would have refused.

“Yeah I do. Hold this, will you?” I nodded at the opposite side of the table I was struggling to hold.

He appeared shocked that I accepted his offer, but I didn’t dwell on it and instead lifted the table. We worked in silence aside from a few words of instruction I gave him, and I was thankful for the lack of distraction. When we set up the last table I placed my hands on my hips, looking at the tables.

Hongjoong crossed his arms, “Why were you doing this alone?”

“No one else signed up to help for the Academic Bowl, so I did it myself.” He gave a confused look so I clarified my position.

“Of course you’re the Vice President.” Hongjoong muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I faced him, feeling slightly offended.

He shrugged, “I know you’re just involved in a lot. I’m not surprised.”

Ignoring his comment, I took the conversation another direction. “Why did you help me?”

“You needed help, princess.” He answered simply.

I nodded, ignoring the nickname. “Well...thanks.”

A moment of silence followed until Hongjoong broke it, “Hey listen, there’s a party this weekend I want you to go.”

“Why?” I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anyone that will be there.”

“You know me.”

“That’s not exactly an incentive.”

He scoffed in mock offense, “Okay first of all, ouch. Second, what if I sweeten the deal?”

My eyebrows raised, lips forming a smile, “Oh yeah? What could that possibly be?”

He faltered for a moment, his voice lowering seemingly without intent, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You’re beautiful.”

I turned from him, trying to will any semblance of a flustered expression off my face. “You were saying before?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “I’ll drive. You can even invite your friend if you want.”

“Lia?”

“Yeah. If it makes you more comfortable.”

At first, I wanted to say no. At first, I wanted to continue my streak of refusing any advance he made on me. But looking at his kind eyes, completely devoid of any malintent, I felt my heart flutter. When my mind thought back to how he had defended me in the library I felt a warmth bubbling in my chest. I pretended to ponder for a moment, even though I already knew my answer.

“Okay but I don’t...I don’t think I should tell Lia.”

“Why’s that?”

“She kinda hates you.”

He looked taken aback, “Might I ask why?”

I sighed, crossing my arms, “Don’t worry about it. So where is this party?”

He filled me in on the details and I did my best to keep up my neutral façade. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was ecstatic to see him outside of campus, my will of staying away from him faltering by the minute.

-

I stood in front of my closet for what seemed like hours, desperately trying to find something that would match the occasion. I laughed a bit to myself as I looked at the section of black clothes I had. I went through a bit of an emo phase in middle school and I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. I debated avoiding black clothes all together, but the words of Yeosang rang in my head and I bit the inside of my cheek.

Fine. I’ll change it up. But I’ll be damned if I give up on pink.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a light pink leather skirt reaching mid-thigh with black fishnets. I put on a black leather jacket over my black see through shirt exposing my lacy bra underneath, my pink shoes on last.

I took several deep breaths and observed myself in the mirror. It was a change, definitely. I didn’t mind black, but I wouldn’t wear just black alone. I wanted it to be more feminine.

I heard a car horn outside my apartment much sooner than I expected. Bracing for Hongjoong’s reaction, I stepped outside. I was greeted with a smug smile, the man adorning it seeming as confident as a god until he observed my clothes, his eyebrows raising.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over me, taking in my abrupt fashion change, “I still wasn’t entirely certain you’d go. Much less looking like this.”

My lips quirked into half-smile, “Well I can’t show up looking like I normally do.”

“Why not?”

My heart swelled at the genuine confusion evident on his face. “Some people don’t care for the way I dress.” I took a breath and continued, “I heard you and your friends in the library.”

I forced myself to look him in the eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together, a scowl forming on his face. “You don’t have to change a goddamn thing. You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you look great in pink, too. And I’m sorry if he made you feel otherwise.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright, I actually kinda like it.”

“You definitely make it work.” He swallowed, voice lowering.

“Then maybe I should wear a bit of black more often.”

The man gave a thousand dollar smile, quirking a brow that left my panties feeling slightly damp. He motioned to the car door, “Hop in, cutie.”

A friendly string of conversation followed us as Hongjoong drove. I felt my nerves starting to dissipate, his smile I once despised now bringing me comfort. And really, he was much funnier than I had believed. I found myself laughing with him more than I had in a long time. I knew my walls were falling, but I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Why the hell not? He’s kind enough, and he isn’t even close to being hard on the eyes.

The car drive was much quicker than I expected, although how quickly I was unfamiliar with my surroundings through me for a loop. The trees around us became more sporadic and the sun set quicker than what seemed normal. I fidgeted slightly, prompting Hongjoong to look over at me. He intertwined my fingers with his own and I smiled, secretly welcoming his touch.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay?”

I nodded, grasping onto his hand tightly. Before I knew it, my eyes locked with the building in front of us. I took in the abandoned building in front of me, eyes widening slightly as I observed its poor condition. Large windows were shattered, vines were growing around pillars, grass peaking through what once was concrete.

“This is the most sketchy place I’ve ever seen in my life.” I spoke, feeling slightly alarmed by the building but comforted by Hongjoong’s presence.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I literally just saw a rat run out a broken window.”

Hongjoong suppressed a smile and let go of my hand, opening his car door and telling me to stay in place as he walked around and opened the door on my side. I hesitated as I exited the car, a bit afraid of what could possibly be inside the building.

“We can leave at anytime. If you don’t want to go in we can leave right now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

As sweet as he was being, I felt the need to prove to him that I was brave enough to enter, even if it did look like he was leading me to my death.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. We can go in.”

He smiled, leading me to an out-of-the-way entrance which seemed to lead to a different building entirely. I gave an involuntary “woah” as we entered the building. As horrific as it looked on the outside, it was gorgeous on the inside. Perfectly up kept brick walls hugged the sides of the building, lights were strung from the ceiling, arcade machines and dart boards were huddled in a corner, and of course, there was a bar with a seemingly unlimited amount of liquor. People were scattered all throughout, socializing and being generally loud. Everyone wore about the same color clothes as Hongjoong, dark as they could possibly get.

“How did you even find this place?”

“My friend Yeosang and I were just driving around and we found it one day. Decided to make it our hangout spot.”

I looked at him confused, still amazed at my surroundings. Hongjoong led me over to his familiar group of friends, assuring me that they wouldn’t bite, and introduced me to the seven men, four of which I hadn’t seen prior. I saw the color drain from a few of their faces as they saw me, likely from their words in the library, but I didn’t comment on it. Overall, they were much friendlier than I expected them to be.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Hongjoong nudged me, “You want anything?”

“No that’s okay. I think I’m gonna check out the pinball machines. They look kinda cool.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay by my side? I won’t take long.”

I shook my head, “I’ll be okay.”

He chucked, “Alright. I’ll grab a drink and I’ll head right over, princess.”

I bit my lip at the nickname and wandered over to the machines, surprisingly feeling comfortable in the environment, despite everything being so unfamiliar. All of the games were being used, some people clearly playing better than others.

I got lost in the artwork on the side of a particular pinball machine when a gruff voice caught my attention. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

I turned to meet a tall man with grey hair. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, and reeked of cigarettes and a foul smell I couldn’t place.

A flash of fear ran through me and I tried to make my voice as confident as possible, “I was invited.”

“Well...that’s certainly a shame now, isn’t it? I wasn’t invited, but I decided to show up for a bit of fun anyway.”

He came closer to me, our height difference incredibly prominent as he leaned over me, “How about you give me a kiss, little thing?” I ran away as soon as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me but assuming he would. I dashed around quickly and sporadically around people, hoping I would lose him.

I looked around desperately for Hongjoong, sighing when I found him surrounded by his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

I hope this fucking works.

“I need you to kiss me.”

A look of confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?”

“Please kiss me.” I begged, eyes wide, disregarding the stares of his friends around us, hoping that if the man saw I was taken he’d leave me alone.

Without hesitation he wrapped his free hand around my waist—a cup of alcohol still in the other—and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my own. He kissed me hard, biting my bottom lip slightly and letting out a growl only I could hear. He wasn’t my first kiss, far from it, but no one had ever kissed me like he did. Just a kiss had never left me feeling weak at the knees. Just a kiss had ever made me feel so submissive, making me want to beg him to take me right on the spot, regardless of the fear in my veins. Even with the taste of alcohol still on his lips, his scent overtook me.

He pulled back, eyes darker than before, and raised a brow, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Just then I realized my hands had been gripping his leather coat, pulling him just as close as he was pulling me. I looked over in the direction of where the man was before, not seeing him.

“A man was following me and he was trying to get me to kiss him a-and I didn’t know him...I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at my words, a rage I hadn’t seen before taking over them, “What did he look like?”

“I-I don’t know he was tall and had grey hair and-”

He cursed under his breath. Keeping me just as close he turned to the men around him, their eyes narrowed as well.

“You heard that?” He asked his friends.

“Loud and clear.” San said, cracking his knuckles, a scowl on his face that scared me, even though I knew I wasn’t the one it was directed at.

“I thought we told him to never come back here.” Jongho snarled.

“We did.” Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa looked at me, nodding to Hongjoong, “Keep her safe and take her out of here. If he’s here I’m sure he’s brought friends. Yeosang, lead everyone out. We’ll take care of him.”

Hongjoong looked conflicted, obviously wanting to stay and fight, but gave into the older man’s command. “Be fucking safe,” he barked, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, “Come on, we’re going.”

Seonghwa mumbled something to Hongjoong and he nodded in response, tossing his alcohol to the ground. I didn’t have time to ask questions as he led me out a back door, the darkness of the night equally horrifying and comforting, and quickly pushed me into his car, apologizing the entire time. He entered the key into the ignition and the car sprung to life.

“Uhh...maybe it’s not a good idea for you to drive. You’ve been drinking, right?”

“I had maybe two sips. I’ll drive safe, promise.”He gave me a small comforting smile, “Put your seatbelt on. Hold on tight, sweetheart.” His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. I nodded and did as he said, bracing as his car sped off, my heart beating in overtime.

The ride was a blur, the only things I could remember being Hongjoong’s calming voice, periodically reassuring me that things would be okay. We arrived at a foreign building which Hongjoong called his house, and only then did I let myself fall apart. I felt tears streaming down my face as my hands quivered, my head beginning to pound.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” My teary eyes met his and I felt my heart break at the way he was looking at me, as if he had made me cry himself.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

My tears slowed as he carefully led me inside his house, sitting me down on his bed. He crouched down in front of me, wiping the tears from my face.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I didn’t realize he was going to be there. I never should’ve made you come along I’m so-”

“Who was that?”

Hongjoong sighed, “He used to be a friend of mine. We had a falling out and he became violent. One time he showed up at one of our parties with some friends of his to start a fight. We won and told him to never come back. Looks like he did.” He looked off into nowhere, regret clear on his face.

“You didn’t know,” I sniffled, “You couldn’t have known.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, his agitation still visible. I brought a hand out to reach his own, trying to comfort him. The loud ding of Hongjoong’s phone made me jump and he apologized profusely. As he took out his phone from his pants pocket I looked around his room for the first time. It looked exactly as I had expected, solid black furniture and so many band posters decorating the wall I could hardly tell what color his bedroom walls were.

Hongjoong spoke up, “I just got a text from Seonghwa. There were two other people there with him. My friends took care of them don’t worry, you’re safe.”

I nodded, pulling him into a hug and burying my face into his chest. “If you’re comfortable with it,” He started, “I’d like you to stay here. I want to know you’re safe.”

My eyes met his as he moved a hair out of my face, “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want to I understand.”

A hand of his ran up and down my back, tracing little patterns here and there, and I realized just how much I wanted to be with him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

He laughed, “What do you mean ‘if it’s alright with you’ I asked.”

I bit my bottom lip and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Hongjoong laughed, “Hey, look at me.” He said in a commanding yet sweet tone that made my thighs press together. I glanced back up at him, his handsome features making me feel dizzy.

He chuckled, “What’s that look for? You got something to say to me?”

I hesitated, “Actually, I do have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you chase after me?”

Hongjoong smiled, “You never gave a reaction to anything I tried. It confused me and piqued my curiosity. So I began to watch you and how you interacted with people. You’re gentle and sweet. You’re innocent and haven’t let the world tear you down. I admire that.”

He leaned closer to me, his lips brushing my ear, “And it turned me on beyond belief. I wondered how I could ruin you, thought about how I could turn you into a quivering mess as you beg for me.”

I shivered and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes. Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle as he sat on his bed, lifting me on his lap. He gave an eyebrow raise and a crooked smile as my breath hitched while looking at him, taking him in.

How did I never notice how his dark hair falls to one side when he cocks his head and how he looks so endearing when it happens? How did I never pay attention to his soft pink lips that give way to his gorgeous smile and how much I’ve been dying to kiss them all this time? How did I not see the way his eyes form crescents when he smiles, making my heart grow ten times over?

Why did I never think to take note of how his deep voice makes my stomach do somersaults? Why was I so unaware of his tongue piercing that was leaving me wonder how it would feel on my skin? Why didn’t I observe the black painted nails of his that were currently dancing along my thighs, giving me goosebumps?

How and why did I never notice him?

“You’re such a good girl.”

And for the first time around him, I flushed.

He chuckled, “Oh? You like that?”

I nodded quickly and he said it again, smiling as my face heated up once more.

“It’s so good to see you react to what I say. I wonder...” Hongjoong leaned closer to me, “How will you react when you’re underneath me? Squirming and begging for me to touch you?”

I gave him a look of desperation and balled his shirt into my fist, trying to move him closer, “Please.”

Hongjoong lifted me off of him, quickly discarding my clothes followed by his own shirt. My eyes were guided down by his abs and I ran a hand across them without thinking, whimpering quietly.

“Is my baby girl getting needy?” He cooed.

I closed my eyes, once again nodding in embarrassment.

“How about we take care of that?”

He laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, leaving me in anticipation as he pinned my hands above my head with a hand of his own. My eyes widened and he chuckled, running a single finger along my folds.

“You’re so unbelievably fucking wet...do I turn you on that much?”

I let out a small “yes” and he hummed in response. Placing a few kisses upon my lips, Hongjoong slowly entered two fingers into me and my back arched. His fingers curled, hitting a spot inside of me that’d I’d never been able to reach. I spread my legs as far as they could go, pleading for more, feeling tears prick my eyes.

Hongjoong spoke, his voice already dropping several octaves, “Keep your hands here, understand? I don’t want you moving them.”

I nodded, willing my hands to stay in place as his own moved to my hips, leaving kisses along my inner thighs.

“Hongjoong please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that, don’t you?”

His lips attached to my core, tongue running through my folds and nose hitting my clit as I moaned pathetically. His hands held my hips down as I tried to buck them up, barely able to keep my hands above my head. After what felt like years, his mouth finally reached my clit and I cried out as his lips attached to it, sucking hard and leaving kitten licks. My high built up quickly and I came hard, my hands leaving their spot and pulling slightly on his hair.

“Thought I told you to keep your hands above your head, no?”

I mumbled an apology and he leaned over to kiss me, “You’re forgiven, darling.”

He seemed just as impatient as I was and without much begging the rest of his clothes were off, his dick teasing my entrance.

“God Hongjoong please I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, y/n.”

He fully entered me, cursing as he did so. I was so caught up in the feeling of him inside of me that I didn’t even register him asking me a question until he laughed at me.

“Feeling good, baby? Can’t even speak?”

I whimpered, nodding seeming to be the only thing I could manage to do. I felt his member twitch inside of me and I pleaded for him to fuck me, to give me anything. Hongjoong growled and jerked his hips up into me over and over, leaving me a moaning mess.

“Taking me so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

The amount of praise he gave me caused a few tears to fall from my eyes, not realizing how bad I needed it until that moment. My walls clenched around him every time, causing him to groan and snap his hips into me even harder. Hongjoong’s eyes grew hazy, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m close, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me”

His hand trailed down to my clit, rubbing tiny circles. My back arched as I came in time with him, our breaths synchronizing as we gasped for air.

He slowly pulled out of me and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, cleaning me up. Hongjoong giggled and I raised a brow at him.

“I never thought you’d give me a chance. It’s almost like I’ve corrupted you.”

“You have. Aren’t you aware of the party I went to because of you? I almost died.”

Hongjoong laughed as he crawled into bed and pulled blankets over the both of us. He ran a hand through my hair, looking at me fondly, “You did not almost die.”

“Okay yeah but I could have. That’s what we should be focusing on here.”

“I think there’s something else I’d like to focus on.”

Hongjoong pulled me into a deep kiss, hand slithering down to my waist. His kisses trailed to my ear, a slight chuckle leaving his lips, “My pretty princess.”

I looked at him with doe eyes, slightly in awe of him, and wondered how I could’ve pushed him away for so long. I knew for certain that I had no intention of doing so ever again.

When I told him he smiled, “Good. You’ve had a grip on my heart since day one. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me.”

I blushed slightly, much to his entertainment. We snuggled up to each other in silence, listening to the sound of our synchronized breathing as I lulled to sleep, our warm fingers intertwined. My dreams filled of him.

“Sleep well, my princess. I’ll be right here when you wake.”

[rhysismydaddy]

Hey love, I adore ur nessian fics and was wondering if you could bless us with some Cassian being super hurt/sick and nesta taking care of him(fluff + hurt/comfort yknow)?Ooh and nesta giving him a pep talk when he says he feels worthless-bat boi needs some comfort -(nesta bathing cassian scene for bonus points). Thank you so much! hope ur staying safe and healthy!

thank you <3 hope you’re doing well, too

___________________________________________

Nesta leaned a hip against the doorframe of her bedroom, frowning when she found it empty. “Cass?”

No answer. 

She still searched the place anyway, since he was bad to play music in his headphones too loud and never hear her. She went to the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and even out the back door of her tiny place, but to no avail. 

He wasn’t here. 

Which was odd, considering he wasn’t allowed to drive, and he’d been here when she left for work. 

She grabbed her phone and called him, but no answer. 

Annoyance bloomed as she threw her shoes back on and snatched her keys, then drove the five minutes to his place. By the time she got there, the annoyance had blossomed into full-on irritation, so she didn’t bother knocking, just used the key he’d given her a year ago and marched in. 

When she found him in his bedroom, she paused, and all that pent-up anger whooshed right out of her. 

Beneath the mass of purple bruises decorating him, he was white as a sheet as he struggled to get his sock off. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, grimacing in pain, but didn’t stop until his hand grabbed his foot.

Nesta rushed over, kneeling in front of him. “Cass, you’re going to pop a stitch. What are you doing? Why’d you leave my place?”

He didn’t say anything, just pushed her hands away when she tried to help. 

“Cassian-”

“I’m fine, Nesta,” he snapped, grunting as he ripped the sock off and started on his pants.

“Clearly,” she shot back, standing and crossing her arms. 

She’d been taking care of him for almost two weeks, and this was the thanks she got?

He got the sweats off easier, and her heart pinched as the cast over his broken knee was exposed. With brutal efficiency, he wrapped it in the extra-long trash bags they’d bought at the store, then reached for the duct tape.

Noticing it was a little too far away, she grabbed it and handed it to him.

Golden eyes surrounded by black shot to hers, and she took a step back at how angry they were. “Jesus Christ, Nesta, I’m not an invalid. Stop mothering me.” 

Taking a shaky breath, she nodded and stepped out of his way as he used his uninjured leg to stand up. She knew it was self-hatred and the anger of being injured, not that he was actually pissed at her, but it still hurt.

She’d known his recovery would be difficult, that it would test their relationship, but it was still a shock to her system to be on the receiving end of his rage.

It was horrible to watch as he used the wall to hobble to the connected bathroom, but she maintained her distance and kept quiet. 

But no matter how mad he’d be because of it, she couldn’t stop herself from rushing to him when he started to fall. 

Nesta reached him just in time, catching him around the waist and bracing him as he started to tip forwards. But he was over two-hundred pounds of solid muscle, and though she slowed him down, she couldn’t stop him entirely. 

Her back slammed into the wall next to the tub, the air getting knocked from her lungs in a harsh breath. 

“Goddammit,” he growled, pushing off the wall with one hand and all but throwing himself into the bathtub, somehow managing to keep his wrapped up leg from getting wet. Water sloshed over the sides, but he didn’t seem to care.

Bracing an elbow on the edge, he put his head in his hand and avoided looking at her for a long time. 

She could feel the rage inside him building, feel him turn it on himself. 

“I’m sorry, Nes,” he murmured a few minutes later, still not looking at her. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, coming over to sit on the space behind his head. She ran her hands through his hair, pulling his head back until his eyes met hers. “I know you hate being injured, but you have to stop being so hard on yourself Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t like you seeing me like this.”

She scoffed. “How many times have you taken care of me?”

Cassian shook her head. “That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t. And it isn’t why you’re so upset.”

She knew there was something else causing him to lash out. He’d been injured before, but he’d never acted like it was anything besides a mild annoyance.

His gaze shuttered, but there was such pain, such emptiness in his eyes. She couldn’t take it. 

“Cassian, please talk to me,” she pleaded. “Don’t... don’t shut me out.”

It had taken her forever to open up to him, and she couldn’t stand the feeling that they were moving backwards. 

His head dipped forward, and she released his hair with a sigh, letting him go. 

She was about to leave, give him some alone time, when he said, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

Her heart started to pound, and his gaze shot to hers like he could hear it. “Work, baby. Not you.”

Nesta nodded but stayed quiet, giving him time to figure out what he wanted to say. 

“I don’t know if I can go on another tour, watch men die all around me, get shot and almost die for a cause I don’t believe in.” He looked down. “But I can do it, and I feel like I’d be letting my men down to stop.”

He was in the Marines, and his platoon had hit an IED and been ambushed in enemy territory with no backup. Cassian had fought his ass off to get every member of his unit out alive. 

His knee had been broken in the explosion, but he’d gone back for his injured partners, not even stopping when he got shot in the shoulder. 

He’d saved six people.

He’d always been driven by duty, by honor, but hated that it was now causing such turmoil inside him.

“Oh, Cass,” she murmured, stroking his curly hair away from his face softly. 

“But even if I do quit, I... I don’t know who I am without this, Nes. I’ve been a Marine my whole life; it’s all I am.”

She scowled down at him at that. “Cassian Azara, if you think that’s all you are, you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

His mouth opened to answer, but she shouldered on. “You are the most selfless, generous, kind, hilarious, handsome, and intelligent man I’ve ever met. All of those things make you a great Marine, but you’re more than some random military title. And if you don’t want to be a Marine anymore, then quit.”

“But-”

“But nothing. You’ve saved those guys’ asses more times than I can count, and while no one will ever be as good of a leader, someone will step up. You’ve done six tours; no one would blame you for choosing yourself. Do what you want, not what you think you need to.”

“It’s all I know how to do,” he murmurs, looking away from her, but not before she caught the shame in his eyes. 

“No, it’s all you’ve done.”

“What do you mean?”

She put a palm on his cheek, and he leaned into the touch. “You enlisted when you were eighteen. You’ve never done anything besides be in the military. But that doesn’t mean it’s all you could do. You could do a million things”

Some of that darkness left his eyes as he looked up at her. “Like what?”

Nesta shook her head incredulously. “Just with your training alone, you could be a personal trainer, teach self-defense classes, or fight professionally. You graduated at the top of your class; you could go to college and study anything you want. You could be a mechanic like you were in high school. You could fly a rocket to the fucking moon.”

Cassian’s lips twitched. “I don’t know about that one.”

“I do. NASA would be lucky to have you.” He didn’t look quite convinced about the point she was making, so she said, “Baby, with your personality and that face, you could sell car insurance to the Amish.”

He laughed in surprise, and the sound soothed the ache in her chest. 

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “And with how fucking stubborn you are, you’ll be the best at whatever you choose. You can do anything you want. Now say it.”

He looked down at his broken knee and muttered, “I can do anything I want.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Now say it like you mean it.”

His eyes rolled back up to hers in amusement, even as he said confidently, “I can do anything I want.”

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Yes, you can. And whenever you need reminding of it, just tell me.”

“I love you,” he said against her lips, making her smile. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Yes, I am,” she agreed, still grinning. “Now shut up and hand me the shampoo. You smell worse than you look.”

He threw his head back and howled with laughter, then splashed her and handed her the shampoo. She worked some of it into his hair, the froth slick beneath her hands, and moved his head to lie against the edge of the tub. 

Nesta kissed his brow, knowing that whatever they went through, they’d do it together. “I love you, too, Cassian.”

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2 of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For Vegas and Pete:

Evil babygirl & stealthily evil babyboy. Vegas, known committer of atrocities, and Pete, who didn't rise up the ranks of being a mafia bodyguard for nothing. Never forget how Pete brutally shot and killed his coworker who dared to shoot Vegas in front of him.

I mean. They both kill people all the time. They even have evil gay BDSM sex. It's all right there.

it's plainly obvious to anyone even looking in their direction how murder husbands they are. both have canonically killed multiple people, often on screen. Not to mention the onscreen scene of Vegas literally torturing someone. 

For Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu:

you've got the founder of the fantasy ancient Chinese CIA and the leader of what is essentially the mafia and then they're soulmates and in love. they're both willing to kill anyone who dares hurt the other while also just wanting a soft domestic life together

Zhou Zishu is an assassin and spymaster who put the current Emperor on the throne, and then quit his job by faking his death (kinda, hes still dying but not as fast as he was supposed to). Had done A Lot on his old job, including murdering children (more than one, and at least one of them in a way I can't even describe without several trigger warnings), exterminating whole families, war crimes (and i dont mean this in a buzzword way, i mean "organized a public execution of foreign diplomats during war time")… btw he doesn't feel particularly bad about any of this, because he believes it was necessary. Like he wouldn't do it for fun, but he thinks the ends (putting a good Emperor on the throne) justified the means (all of the atrocities). As a retiree, he definitely cut down on the amount of morally reprehensible murder, but not murder in general. He still routinely kills ppl, he just doesn't go out of his way to kill more. Wen Kexing, meanwhile, is the Ghost Valley Master - Ghost Valley being a place where the worst of criminals are exiled. Even in such a place, he has reputation as a complete lunatic, owed partially to the fact that he either skinned a man or fed him his own flesh or both at one point, and partially to him having a rule where he would kill anyone who came closer than 3 meters to him. But in truth, everything he'd done was to survive the Ghost Valley and eventually take revenge for his parents, who were brutally murdered when he was only nine. By the start of the novel's timeline, he put his plan in motion - the plan that would drown jianghu in blood, but also deliver poetic justice to all responsible for his parents' deaths, as well as all who'd commit the same crime given the chance. And these two men, these two murderers and schemers, meet - and unexpectedly, find in each other the person who /understands/. The person who is just as ruthless and whose hands are just as bloody, but also the person who knows standing at the top of the world is not worth it, who seeks the same freedom of leaving it all behind, and who is still, underneath it all, a human, with human heart seeking connection. So you have this couple who understand each other with barely a word, and who want the same things - who are so hungry for domesticity and for people they can just goof around with when all their lives they had to measure every step and word - but ALSO where one half a couple is like "i gotta go murder hundreds in revenge" and the other half is like "ok pick you up at 6". (This btw is why I'm submitting novel's iteration of the couple in particular. Show wenzhou with their ridiculous breakups over morality could Never.) Also they were both hiding who they are when they first met, and later flirted about having figured each other out. Finally, I'll leave you my favorite quote that just. perfectly sums up their relationship: "And just like that, they fell asleep in each other's arms, steeped in the smell of blood."

You’ve probably already had submissions for them but I’ll add on. One of them founded an assassin’s guild and killed a staggering number of people. His malewife is the leader of a sect of insane murderous outcasts, and he attained his position by proving to be the most crazy and murder happy of them all. Most of the plot involves him wandering around watching his schemes get more people killed. Together they adopt a kid that was only orphaned due to said scheming (oops). They’re terrible and I love them.

[nimsajlove]

Brother Wolf

Some things about Ahsoka and Wolffe between the passing of time.

Brothers-AU         Ao3

Edit: What the actual hell did tumblr do to my teeny tiny stars? Or is this just me?

*~*

„Hey, who does this cadet belong to?“, a voice rang through the hangar, Jedi General Plo Koon and Commander Wolffe interrupted their conversation to raise their heads. A clone in gleaming white armor made its way through the men seated on the ground. He had grabbed a young girl by the wrist. She watched with amazement as hundreds of soldiers covered their armor with paint. Then she grinned broadly at her, obviously involuntary, companion and tried to pull her hand away from him. „I can manage on my own.“, she protested and Woffe was tempted to roll his eyes, when the general's low chuckle threw him a bit off. „Thank you very much, I will take over from here.“, assured General Koon and held out his big hand to the girl. Wolffe was fascinated, he had never really seen a togruta and he had not expected that the color of the lekku could darken that quickly!

„Sir.“, the man in white armor responded to the command and released the girl from his grasp. Hastily she reached out and clasped General Koon's fingers in hers. When she smiled, the snow-white markings on her cheekbones lifted with it. „‘Soka, how long did it take you to get here?“, asked the General and the girl grinned even wider, if possible. „It took me 10 minutes.“, she boasted. Oh dear, Wolffe only had needed 5 on his first day on Coruscant. But he also swallowed the thought, later when he was alone he would allow himself to grin a little. But not now, not in front of his Jedi.

General Koon did seem to be smiling, however. „Commander Wolffe, may I introduce you jedi youngling Ahsoka?“ She pouted! She didn't seem to like the addition of youngling at all... „‘Soka, that's Commander Wolffe.“ Wolffe bowed his head in greeting and the girl, Ahsoka, looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. Was she studying his helmet? „Are that supposed to be ... teeth?“, she asked critically and General Koon seemed to smile again, where had Wolffe got into? A jedi cadet who eyed him with a predatory look and a jedi general who seemed to be having a lot of fun. If he told Fox that, it might even make his brother laugh.

Before Wolffe could answer, the General's comlink blinked. „Ah… Commander, I'll leave little Ahsoka with you. I'll be right back.“ Great. Wolffe looked after the General for a moment, would it be beneath his dignity to just send the kid home? Sighing softly, he turned his gaze back to Ahsoka and when he watched how she already followed Boost every step of the way, grinning broadly and with amazed eyes, he actually had to smile.

*

Wolffe was tired, so infinitely tired. But grumpy too, and that was exactly what he needed to mask his exhaustion as best he could. Still, he couldn't find the energy to get up when the ship jumped into hyperspace. His stomach was sure, however, that General Koon hadn't been behind the wheel! Rex spoke well of Skywalker, but Wolffe was very happy to serve under another jedi at moments like these.

Soft snoring made him open one eye, Boost and Sinker leaned together slumped against the wall opposite him and slept leaning against each other. They were still in a pretty good shape... What would become of them now? It only seemed logical to split Boost and Sinker among other battalions and assign him, Wolffe, to another unit as well. That would mean less paperwork, right? Kark! This wasn't fair! But he would pull himself together for his last two men. And for the General.

Soft steps made Wolffe blink again, when did he close his eyes again? Ahsoka crept cautiously through the ship, armed with a couple of blankets. One more reason to pull himself together. Rex's tiny Commander-sibling didn't have to see any more suffering than she already would see in this war. Why hadn't General Koon spoken out against her being a padawan? She was a child! Just a little girl who, just a few months ago, had stood in his hangar with wide eyes. And now? Now there was that sad look she gave Boost and Sinker.

Ahsoka gently wrapped two blankets around the two men before she straightened up and padded over to Wolffe with the last one. Wonderful, now the little thing had to take care of him! „It's okay, I'll be fine.“, he growled and got up a little, Ahsoka looked at him. Her gaze was far too serious for her small, round face. Then she clicked her tongue miserably and threw the blanket over the clone anyway. „I'm sorry.“, she muttered and when Wolffe rolled his eyes it was just a reason for her to crawl closer to him. Finally she sat on the floor too, pressed close to his side. That wasn't so bad... „Cody asked about you. And Rex too“, Ahsoka mumbled softly and Wolffe rolled his eyes again, but leaned back against the escape pod again, puffing. „Of course they did...“, he muttered softly and the girl laughed softly into his uniform. „I told them you are fine...“, she added and then fell silent. No, she shouldn't worry her tiny head over all of this. „We will be.“, Wolffe assured her quietly. Ahsoka cuddled closer to him and even if he neither hugged her nor wrapped the blanket around her, she felt his head sag a little in her direction.

*

Rex hadn't returned yet... Cody next to Wolffe glanced at the door again, the mood of the two commanders had clearly sagged. And not just theirs, Wolffe could see some of Rex's men in a corner. Their heads were huddled together and they were whispering to one another. The ARC, Fives, had its arms crossed and leaned against a brother's hand. Cody looked at the door again. „Kriff, that is no longer bearable. I'll go and look for them.“, Wolffe grumbled and got up.

Cody didn't try to stop him, just nodded and got to his feet as well. Well, they seemed to agree this time! With great strides Wolffe made his way outside, if Ahsoka was really there again she would never stay outside that long. Or would she? After all, she belonged to the family... Oh, all of this sucked! Really, the whole thing was just completly unfair! He had believed Rex. Ahsoka Tano would never kill clones, not with those big eyes and grin. But she had been together with Ventress and what should he think of that?! He would have shot the witch on the spot, if Ahsoka hadn't been standing in front of him. She had defended the enemy.

But at the same time she had tried to protect him and the men. Wanted to talk! He should have just stunned her right then and she would never have gotten even close to that damn warehouse.

The evening air was cold and cleared the many thoughts from Wolffe's head. That was all behind them, Ahsoka was alive. She was innocent. That counted. He had reached his goal and had brought her home when Rex and Skywalker were unable to. Even if he had expected more ... backbone from General Plo. But he didn't owe Plo an apology, they all owed it to Ahsoka. Hardly thought through, he discovered two huddled figures. So that's where Rex had been! The Captain sat leaning against the wall of the barrack in the darkness and that on his lap was a violently trembling Ahsoka. Kriff, maybe Cody should have gone looking for them after all? Too late now, Rex looked up and caught Wolffe's gaze. All right, going back was no longer an option. So he came closer with careful steps. Ahsoka had turned her back on him, he could see as she tensed when he came within earshot. Rex had an arm wrapped around her, his free hand gently rubbing her back. A low growl escaped the girl and while Rex looked worried, Wolffe had to smile against his will. What a cute attempt to chase him away again. But she had mastert the art to ignore his grumbling, so he would return the favor.

Also, he had come here on a mission and he still had to apologize. That would be difficult enough... „Your men are getting annoying in there.“, Wolffe muttered and Rex snorted, of course his little brother knew immediately which men were meant! „Fine. Ahsoka, I'll go and talk to the others. I'll be right back, okay?“, he muttered and the girl shuddered before she nodded and slipped off Rex's lap. When he got up, he gave Wolffe a questioning look. „I'm staying.“, confirmed Wolffe.

That seemed to move Rex to give Wolffe another sharp look. Hey! He didn't even have a blaster on hand and he was sure that Ahsoka would bite off his hand anyway before he could draw a single blaster. She certainly could. Rex went back inside and Wolffe sat on the floor next to Ahsoka. There was a low growl and she shrugged her shoulders protectively. „No reason to be rude.“, he grumbled and Ahsoka's head jerked up, with tear-stained eyes and bared teeth she looked at him. „I trusted you!“, she spat, ouch. That ... maybe he deserved that. But that's not how things would work here, he already felt guilty and she wasn't going to talk it any bigger! „And I trusted you too. And yet you were with Ventress.“, he replied chilled, quietly. Then her lower lip started trembling. Kriff.

Ahsoka angrily wiped her face with her hands and hastily tried her body to get herself back under control. She wanted to be mad! She wanted to bite and scratch. But there was just that deep fear inside of her. The back of a hand on her shoulder almost made her jump in the air. Then she tried to avoid the touch. No chance, Wolffe's hand stayed on her shoulder. Like glued on. „I hate you.“, she sniffed tired and angry and sad. This was too much for one day, just too much. Wolffe watched her make a face and then carefully turned his hand, now he gripped her shoulder tightly. „I'm sorry. It wasn't fair.“, he admitted quietly and Ahsoka slumped, she just nodded. „I never believed you could have done any of this. But Fox and the others couldn't be talked into anything diffrent. I wanted to bring you back home.“ She nodded again and Wolffe took a deep breath, he had said what had to be said. It wouldn't hurt to go back inside now and get Rex! He was just getting up again when Ahsoka suddenly slumped to one side. With a thump, her head landed on his shoulder and he froze. It had been ages since she'd gotten that close to him. „I'm sorry I hit you.“, she muttered and Wolffe could feel her shaking again. Kriff. Slowly he raised a hand and squeezed her shoulder. „It's okay, it's been a strange day.“, he muttered and she nodded. Tears still shone on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes and she trembled violently with every breath. Were she cold? „You should get back into the warmth.“, Wolffe decided and got up, with one hand he pulled her to her feet and supported her. She looked pathetic, absolutely drained. And like she needed a hug.

He didn’t hug her. Instead he led them slowly back into the building, across the hallway to the 501st quarters. Inside, voices could be heard. What were these laser brains arguing about this time? Sighing, Wolffe knocked on the door and the voices fell silent. Then the door opened and several hands grabbed Ahsoka. The girl sagged weakly against her other brothers and Wolffe withdrew a tiny bit when she suddenly grabbed him. „I forgive you, it wasn't your fault.“, she mumbled and the others froze again, Wolffe smiled. „And not yours either. It will be okay.“

*

„It will be okay.“, Ahsoka mumbled softly to the wriggling bundle in her arms. Little fingers reached out to her face and grabbed the tips of her lekku. The little girl was beautiful. The fact that Padme could already be seen in Leia after a few months only intensified the effect. But maybe that was just Ahsoka perspective...

No one had protested when she had come into the creche and picked up Leia. No one had stopped her when she had went out with the child and just stopped at the steps of the temple. Even the remaining guards avoided them. Leia patted Ahsoka's cheek with one hand and she blinked hastily, her cheeks were wet. But today was supposed to be a good day! Today Master Plo would come back. And even if she could do without a meeting with her father figure, she just didn't want to miss her brother! Since the battle in the temple, Plo Koon had been out with his men to track down Tamboa. Something Ahsoka would have liked to do herself, but the healers and her brothers found her to be too unstable. Pah...

Before her frustration could swell further and mix with her depressed mood, Leia turned her little head and Ahsoka followed her gaze, Plo Koons presence could already be felt before the speeder stopped and two figures emerged from it. The Jedi Master led the way, Wolffe followed. As they climbed the steps, Ahsoka cocked her head a little, they looked tired. Nevertheless, she decided her meeting with Wolffe would not be able to wait, and waited until the two of them had reached the top. „Ahsoka.“, Plo greeted with clear reluctance. Briefly he reached out his fingers to her arm, Ahsoka winced as he brushed her skin and Plo withdrew hastily. „Good evening Master.“, Ahsoka muttered and quickly averted her gaze, she didn't want to give her old friend a reason to linger any longer. He sighed. „I'll see you tomorrow, Wolffe.“, he said his goodbye. „Good night, General Plo.“, Wolffe replied and when Ahsoka looked up the clone was already looking at her. „You look tired.“, he stated and Ahsoka's lips curled into a small smile. „Have you ever looked in a mirror?“, she asked and Wolffe grinned. He seemed happy, his presence so much easier to take than the jedi. All clones were more welcome to Ahsoka than the Order at the time. The twins were the only exception.

The twins, whom Wolffe and many others of Ahsoka's brothers had never met! As if on command, Leia held out her hand, gurgling, and clenched a fist in Wolffe's direction. Hel eyed the little girl with a raised eyebrow. „I wanted to introduce you to Leia.“, Ahsoka smiled and Wolffe rolled his eyes, it was almost a loving gesture. „The girl from Skywalker?“, he asked quietly and hesitantly held out his hand, Leia immediately grabbed his index finger and cooed with satisfaction. A tiny smile appeared on his face and Ahsoka breathed a sigh of relief. The two seemed to be able to develop a positive bond, untroubled by the actions of the children's father. „Yes.“, Ahsoka grinned and held out Leia to Wolffe. „Oh no, keep it!“ „Don't be scared like that.“, she teased and gave the child to Wolffe. He held her a little clumsily and looked as if he was afraid of crushing her. And then suddenly she laughed. The little thing with the dark hair and open eyes looked at Wolffe and laughed. „She will be so much trouble.“, Wolffe muttered, but his grin belied him.

*

„Give it back!" Ahsoka grinned and turned her gaze forward, just fast enough to avoid a laughing Clone Commander. Rex was less fortunate, Cody practically ran him over. Leia threw herself at the two clones without hesitation, Luke next to Ahsoka hastily made a few steps of space between himself and the scramble on the ground. „Children, does this have to be in the hallway?“, Cutup teased, Jesse and Droidbait laughed softly when Rex threw them a less nice gesture. „Why don't we just go on, we have a hunt to prepare after all.“, Jesse grinned and Luke's eyes lit up, he nodded eagerly. „We can kidnap your padawan for now, right vod'ika?“, asked Droidbait and Ahsoka grinned and pushed her shoulder against his, she was a tiny bit taller than her brothers and had it not been for the first gray hairs, she would have been greatly amused. „Off with you, I'll see where Wolffe is. He will be able to save our brother.“

Satisfied, the others left and Ahsoka quickly left the curses in the hallway behind. She didn't have to look far, Wolffe came up one corridor to meet her. Like the other clones in the temple, he was civilly dressed, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't seem in a hurry. „Do you know why Leia is trying to kill her favorite brother?“, Ahsoka asked and Wolffe grinned broadly, he looked like he had just received the greates gift of all. „Cody snatched her belt while sparring.“ Oh dear. „The gray one?“, Ahsoka asked, she knew exactly which belt was talked about. Finely woven, light gray and embroidered with a wolf's head at the ends. Who would have thought that Boost had that much talent! Leia loved this belt, almost as much as the wolfpack and the 212th.

„Then maybe we should save Cody and Rex, because I still need my brother and Obi Wan comes back in-„ A quick look at the crono. „-three hours again. He's going to want Cody back in one piece and I'm not going to be the one covering up a murder for his padawan.“ Wolffe laughed, but quickened his pace. „We both know that you would be the first to cover up the murder.“, he grinned and set off to separate his siblings from each other.

[alia-turin]

Hey dear Alia!

How do you feel about a little prompt that displays Eredin's lifestory?Just a little one? 🥺 You did it justice when writing some stories about Caranthir and Imlerith as i am curious what's the deal with Eredin being The Eredin we all know and admire.😋

Hello anon, I know I have been sitting on that for more than two weeks but there were several ideas stewing in my brain. I think there is a lot of angles you can approach Eredin, there is just so much to him you can explore. I think I picked his soldierly side as I just enjoy writing stuff like that, I hope you do like it. Please check the warnings and if that is not your cup of tea do let me know, I won’t take offence, but I do want you to enjoy it and there are certainly other stories to be told. 

Warning: Violence, death, graphic descriptions 

AO3 Link

Eredin sat in his tent looking over maps trying to find the weak spot of the fortress. There wasn’t one, he knew it, staring at that map will not make an entrance for him, he had to fight. But fighting will lose him men, and losing men was not something he could afford right now. Not now.

“Any bright ideas?” Imlerith looked at him from the other side of the table, Eredin didn’t respond. He hated admitting defeat.

He remembered a time when he was younger, much younger. He wasn’t even of age then, just an arrogant boy with a talent. The throne room was filled with people, the king sitting, how mighty was Auberon then, Eredin could remember himself looking at the king and thinking that was how a king looked like. Eredin had walked through the throne room, people looking at him and nodding in approval, and why not he was to be the youngest general Aen Elle ever had. All these years of blood and sweat, his father making him sleep in the barracks like a common soldier had paid out. He walked to the throne and knelt, when he raised, he was Eredin, the youngest general they all had seen.

“I built that fortress.” he said in frustration. It was brilliant truly, it was not indestructible, everything could be destroyed even this pile of stone. But Eredin built it to withstand sieg for months.

“They will starve.” Imlerith added.

They would, but months from now. Eredin didn’t have months, he couldn’t be away from Tir na Li,  not now.

“You want to storm it.” the only other man in the tent spoke. Aedan has been silent through the whole discussion, that wasn’t typical.

Like him, Aedan was one of the younger soldiers in their unit. Son of a common soldier he had talent for fight that could rival even Eredin’s. But where he was calm and cold, Aedan was fire, hard to control, never followed orders or at least not as they were given. They were opposite in almost everything, even the way they looked, Aedan’s golden hair versus Eredin’s raven, sapphire blue eyes versus Eredin’s emerald green. Somehow the man grew on him and he trusted him with his life. For hundreds of years now he had never allowed himself to relay on one person as much as he relied on Aedan an the man never disappointed.  

“I say we wait.” Imlerith’s words made Eredin focus again at the task at hand. He knew that was the wise choice. He could win either way but why risk his men over few rebelling humans. Imlerith was right, but Eredin couldn’t wait. There was a bigger game for him and he was missing on it here.

“I agree. Let them starve.” Aedan, still unusually serious, added.

“One for waiting, one for starvation. Attack it is. We will storm at nightfall.” Eredin looked at his two most trusted men, Imlerith’s pale blue eyes were fixed on the map, Aendan’s were pinned somewhere behind Eredin. Unusually quiet. Neither of them protested, he knew both of them were against the idea, if he were them, he would be as well. He knew it was a bad idea, but he had to choose between his ambition and that fortress...were his  men worth his ambition? They were. He would sacrifice his men now, so he can make it better for them tomorrow. “Aedan, you will scale the wall, from the sea. Pick fifteen men.”

The blonde just nodded. Both of his generals walked out of his tent in silence. Eredin was left alone, he had a few hours before the night covered the sky and it was full moon. Bad time for a surprise attack but he could not wait.

He kicked his boots off and undid his sword belt leaving it over the map. He needed to rest, but he could never sleep before battle. He did lie down on his bed, there was some strange comfort in camping beds. They were uncomfortable, small and your back hurt after sleeping in one for too long, but it was familiar.

Eredin never doubted himself, doubt was a feeling unfamiliar to him. He was the youngest general to ever fight for the Aen Elle and he was the leader of the Red Riders. He had made some bad decisions and some tough decisions, but today just couldn’t get out of his mind. He was about to storm a fortress, he knew it was a bad idea. He knew there was a better way to do it, but he couldn’t wait.

Years ago shortly after Lara was killed, he had come back from a hunt. Aedan and two of his other captains were with him. They had walked in the throne room, Auberon sitting in the throne, Avallac’h and Ge’els next to him. It was hard to shock Eredin, but he was shocked this time. He had been away for weeks and when he came back the king was a shell of a living thing. Eyes unfocused, skin pale, his body looked weak. Eredin had always had a dream, but nothing like this sight to make him want his dream to be reality. It wasn’t, however Auberon’s frail look that made him put his plans in motion, it was the look on his men’s faces. They all had seen Auberon before, he knew what they had seen, their strong and unfaltering leader. Now he was a ruin. The mages had failed them.

It wasn’t that moment when he had made his mind he wanted to be a king, but that was the moment that made him realise it wasn’t just his ambition he was fulfilling. The Aen Elle needed a strong leader, and Auberon was not that anymore. He had planted the seeds long before that and he continued planting them long after, but he had to be in Tir na Lia, not on the other end of the kingdom dealing with human rebels.

He watched as the masons worked on the cenotaphs, sounds of metal against stone filling the air, dull and grim. That was what was left of his most trusted men. Almost all of them were gone. Grey stone and white marble. He wasn’t sad and he wasn’t grieving. They got warrior’s deaths and that was all they could hope for. He was angry. Pointless deaths born of weakness and bad decisions. He wondered if the plan all along had been to deprive him from those he trusted the most.

“Ceiran had a child.” he had heard Aedan’s step behind him but the man had been standing in silence until now. It wasn’t just Eredin losing friends, it had been both of them. “I will look into it.”

Eredin nodded. When he took the crown no  more of that. His men would die soldier’s deaths but it won’t be for nothing.  

Eredin walked out of his tent and he found his way to where Aedan and his men were preparing. They were all ready to go, nobody wore armor, just normal dark clothes, no capes, no swords, only knives, their faces covered in dirt and charcoal, everything shiny from their clothes either covered or taken off.

“Let it be known that Eredin Bréacc Glas likes it the hard way.” Aedan pointed at the full moon.

“I will give you an hour to scale the cliffs and then another thirty minutes to get half of the fortress, after that the soldiers inside should be looking in the opposite direction, but not for long.” Eredin turned to Imlerith who had just joined, fully dressed in his armor. “Put the rest of the men on the ridge there, spread them, but make sure the archers have good range and visibility when the commotion starts, I need you on me.”

“What are you going to do?” Imlerith asked before he put his helmet on.

“Negotiate.” everyone who heard that started laughing.

Hour and thirty minutes later Eredin, no armor, no sword, was walking to the fortress. One of his soldiers next to him, holding a while flag.

“Another step, pointy ears, and that arrow goes between your eyes.” a human from behind the walls shouted.

Eredin didn’t need to make another step, he needed to be right here, right now. He always rehearsed his plans in his head, multiple times looking for weaknesses. This whole plan was dangerous, but it was going to succeed even if it was just due to his sheer will. He was exactly where he needed to be, he built that place, he knew every stone and every brick, that was the place, not too far, not too close.

“My name is Eredin Bréacc Glas and I am here to negotiate with your leader.” He had to be confident it will go his way, otherwise all it took was one arrow, maybe two and that would be all for Eredin.

“We won’t surrender, pointy ears” another man shouted.

“Not here to negotiate that.” he paused. He had to win time, that is all he needed. He could see movement on the walls and more torches coming to the front. What did old poets say? There is no actual difference between bravery and stupidity? Someone must have seen Eredin in this very moment to say that. “I want to give you the fortress.” he could almost hear all the men behind the wall gasp in surprise and the mummers. Or maybe he was imagining it, after all it was very far.

“Well, gather your men and leave, butcher, no need to negotiate if we already have your fortress. We know who you are Eredin, General of the Red Riders.” it was the voice of the first human. Butcher wasn’t really a creative way to address him, but humans were not creative in general.

“No, but if I just withdraw my forces, someone else will come, someone more patient than I am. I want to negotiate, what are you going to give me, so an Aen Elle never bothers you.” as soon as he finished that he heard new noises, screams and shouts of surprise. Metal hitting metal and more humans shouting.

“Kill him!” a human screamed, but Eredin was already running to the fortress, his back hitting the wooden gates, the arrows couldn’t reach him here, but he hoped Imlerith moved his ass faster. Aedan had scaled the wall faster than he thought, which was good because there was only so much talk of defeat he could pretend without breaking the pretend. The man that was carrying the flag for him was on the ground, ten arrows sticking out of him.

One.

Imlerith and the rest of his men rushed at the gate under a storm of arrows. He could see some of his men falling, but most made it. Imlerith’s back hit the gate and he passed Eredin his sword belt.

Nobody spoke, his men’s shields were raised, but still allowed some well placed arrows to sneak. Eredin counted -

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven

Eight.

Aedan and his men were surely taking their sweet time.

Screams from inside, dull sound and the gate opened. Eredin rushed in but stepped to the side to talk to the soldier who had opened the gates for then. He had expected Aedan.

“Where is your captain?” he asked as he watched his army pour inside.

“He went to look for their leader.” the man answered as he pulled a sword from a dead body nearby and took it as his.

Eredin started running to where he knew the main hall was. Kill the leader and it will all be done. Aedan had the right idea, but the man had only a knife.

Some of his men followed him, he was cutting through everything that was human and stood in his way, his clothes soaked in blood as he was not wearing armor, his sword leaving a bloody trai behind him.

He reached the main hall, the doors were closed but it took him a kick to open them.

“Eredin!” a tall human from the other end of the room shouted. He was holding a severed head in his hand. “Your dog came sniffing.” the human threw the head and it rolled in Eredin’s feet.

Eredin looked down. The golden hair was a mess, Aedan’s face was oddly calm, but his bright blue eyes were turned into glass now. He could hear one of the men behind him choke and gag. It was just a moment but it felt like hours. That was disrespectful. He launched at the human, there were others in the room but he did not care. Aedan had a knife and no armor. The man had armor and a sword. Eredin didn’t have armor but he had his sword and that was planty.

The human was injured which made Eredin’s easy task even easier. Took him two moves to disarm him and then another one to get him on his knees.

“Size him.” Eredin ordered two of his men who had come closer. “And take his armor off.”

His men were not gentle, they tore the straps of his armor and pulled the gauntlets. Even without armor the man was still large for a human.

Eredin grabbed him by the throat and pushed him to a nearby table, with his free hand he reached for his knife and pushed it into the man’s wrist nailing it to the wood. The human screamed in agony.

“Knife.” Eredin ordered, someone passed him another one and he used it to nail the other wrist to the table.

When he finally looked at the room, his men had overpowered the humans, everyone else here was dead. Imlerith walked in his armor covered in blood. He looked at Aedan’s head and stepped around it carefully.

“There were women and children downstairs and we are bringing them to the courtyard.” Imlerith announced. “We also found a pyre, we could identify items from the garrison here, they put them to the sword and burned them.”

“Do you have family, human?” Eredin turned to the rebel leader. “I’m sure you do. You humans breed like cockroaches. Was it what provoked you to do that? You didn’t want your daughter or your son to serve us. To be a slave like you. You should have slit their throats in the crib before they grow up if you wanted mercy for them.” he turned to Imlerith. “Behead all of them, don’t care what you do with them before that.” The man on the table screamed this time not in pain it was frustration.

Eredin had not forgotten about him. He walked to where Aedan’s body was lying, his hand still gripping a knife. Eredin took the knife from the dead fingers, he wouldn’t need it anymore. He slowly walked to the man who had started struggling against the restrain, but pointless, Eredin dug the blades too deep and the pain was probably more than a human could take.

“Was it worth it human? Rebelling?” the man struggled and didn’t answer. Eredin smiled as he pushed the dip of Aedan’s knife in the man’s throat, feeling flesh and bone give in under his weight. The man tried to scream but he choked on his own blood instead. He stepped back and watched the man die in agony.

Eredin turned his gaze to Aedan’s severed head. His oldest friend. Hundreds of years fighting next to each other. Killed by a human rebell. Human, who somehow saw weakness in Aen Elle and decided that he could carve his piece of history. Tir na Lia desperately needed a change.

Nine

He watched the mason work on the marble over Aedan’s tomb. Dull chiseling, scratching the back of Eredin’s head.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Eredin didn’t need to turn to recognize Avallac’h’s voice behind him. “Auberon sends his gratitude.”

“Let me guess, he feels unwell?” he didn’t even turn to face the Sage. Avallac’h would do everything to defend the king.

“He is busy Eredin, humans rebelling is not our only problem.” there was annoyance in Crevan’s voice. “Was it necessary to kill all of them?”

“If you are soft on rebellion, Crevan, it grows.” Eredin knew Avallac’h wasn’t sentimental about the humans. It was about the fact that they disagreed on principle. He did not approve of Crevan’s methods nor the other way around. Auberon was growing weaker by the day, it was all a matter of the right moment now, however he had to figure out a way around Avallac’h as well.

He looked back at Aedan’s tomb and all the other statues and graves of Red Riders and soldiers who had died. Some of them had good deaths, some of them had avoidable deaths but most recently all of them had deaths that could have been avoided with better leadership. He was going to fix that. The Aen Elle would be the force to be feared, again, not a dying race of old men and women.  

[catsandstrawberries]

Rogue Firebender

Pairing: Firebending! Jeon Jungkook x Firebending! Fem! Reader

Summary: After spending time as a fire nation general you decide to go rogue and rebel against the genicide the nation is causing against the other elements. But a mission to save an earth bending group goes wrong when your worst enemy shows up. Jeon Jungkook.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers (Enemies to sex friends?), vaginal sex, oral sex (fem receiving), spit kink, slight FemDom, Violence, some mentions of gore but nothing to bad, swear words, Jungkooks kind of an asshole.

Based on Avatar the Last Airbender

Part 2 

This wasn't my best plan.

I'd like to say I'm good at making plans, and by making plans, I mean split minute life or death decisions, but today was going downhill fast.

I didn't calculate a multitude of things that day.

I didn't calculate how absolutely frustrated I would be and how that would cloud my mind.

I didn't calculate the sheer amount of earthbending slaves the squadron had captured, and I definitely didn't calculate the firebender that would ambush me.

Jeon Jungkook.

The issue with Jungkook was that despite being the same age as me he was practically the fire lords next in line. A dog, willing to bend at the rules and orders as long as he was given a treat and praised like a good little puppy.

Jeon Jungkook was also one of the most talented firebenders I had ever met, and it was a shock to the four nations that I had escaped him for so long.

But that was their fault for underestimating me.

Shackles clanged against the ground, the sound reverberating through the mountainside as soldiers led woman, men, children all in a line towards deaths row.

I defined myself as a freedom fighter, fighting to free those enslaved by the fire nation who used them for their personal gain.

But I was more commonly known as the rogue firebender on every wanted sign in the four nations.

A small child grasped onto his mother's hand, elephant tears slipping past his eyelashes, a monkey stuffy clutched in his hand as he scanned the empty scenery.

Empty, save for me.

I had intercepted a fire nation transcript of them transferring and killing slaves, but there were three times the amount then I expected. Freeing them would be a hassle if I wanted to bring them all back to the mainland and away from fire nation reign.

I grumbled in frustration under my breath. Getting frustrated had always been an issue of mine and my mood just seemed to boil with annoyance.

Four guards led the group, four guards are easy when they don't involve innocents, but I had a sneaking suspicion these guys wouldn't play fair.

I had learned from my previous encounters that jumping up and shouting 'hey ugly!' wasn't the best way to get their attention, so I'm attempting a more solid approach.

My foot made direct impact with the soldier's face and I smirked at the harsh smack that followed.

I threw a serious of fireballs towards the three soldiers, screams, and shouts from the earthbenders filling my ears as fire soared over their heads.

I leaned back as colors of red and orange flew by me, barely evading the destructive flame. I dropped to my knees and swung my leg out to knock the solider off guard, smirking in satisfaction while they all groaned in pain on the ground.

Breaking away from the soldiers I rushed to the group of earth benders, wincing when they all recoiled back from me.

"I won't hurt you, I want to help you."

That was another issue with being a rogue firebender, nobody trusted you, even if you were saving people's lives. I was still a fire bender.

I held my hand below the chains, a small flameworking at the metal until it seared and broke in half.

"Listen, get to the checkpoint, someone will be there to help you cross back into earth kingdom territory, but you need to hurry."

They nodded as a collective and went running in the opposite direction, the little boy giving me a shy wave as he disappeared. Relief passed through my body as I watched them leave, well...until I heard his voice.

"Such a noble act, little rebel."

My body froze and a tingling feeling spread over my skin. The fire in my bones warming at the sound of his voice.

"Taking out four soldiers at once, impressive. But hears the thing, I may be one person, but even you know I'm stronger than all four of them combined."

I slowly turned around, a mop of black hair and olive skin greeting me, red eyes filled with speckles of gold gleaming my way. His fancy robes of red and black stuck to his skin, his mark of nobility. I hated him.

"If you're stronger than all of them then how come I've won every fight?"

His calm composure faltered for a moment, a snarl curling onto his face, "because you love to run."

Speaking of running...

Although I loved getting in a brawl with the attractive 21-year-old who had a jawline sharper than any cooking knife, I was exhausted.

Tracking down secret human trade routes was a lot of work, and though I made fighting four men look easy it took energy.

So for the first time in my life, I took Jungkooks advice,

I ran.

"Shit." I briefly heard him mumble followed by the harsh sound of his boots on the dirt.

I kept a strong pace ahead of Jungkook, I was more agile than him, faster than him, everything was stacked on me getting away.

Except for terrain.

Leaves and branches cut against the skin of my arms as I pushed through the multicolored forest near the edge of the mountainside.

Prickly bushes and plants caught on the fabric of my pants and rocks stung against the bareness of my feet.

Despite the not so good situation, I was smiling. Maybe I was cocky, but I was happy because I knew I was gonna win. I knew that I was faster and better then Jungkook and he would never, ever, bring me back.

But the sudden terrain no longer held flat ground but a deep drop towards a glistening pool of water. My heels dug into the ground as I skidded to a stop, my heart rapidly pounding in my ears as I looked for an escape route. Just before I could jump, a body collided against my back, and a scream escaped my lips. The two of us tumbled down towards the water, dirt sticking to our skin and rocks cutting against our bodies as we rolled and eventually hit the water.

My vision exploded with colors before briefly going black, my senses only comprehending my heavy breathing and the dragging and pulling consciousness of my mind.

Did I mention I fucking hate Jeon Jungkook?

My back stung as if hundreds of needles were being stabbed into my skin, my throat constricting as a pressure pulsed on my chest. My vision which had previously consisted of darkness suddenly sprung to life when I rolled on my side, coughing out the water that had invaded my lungs and rubbing at my red eyes.

Then I noticed him.

Hovering directly above me, his mouth glistening with water and his hands hovering over my chest. The realization suddenly dawned on me and I harshly pushed him, my hand swinging back to spew a fire attack on him only for his hand to catch my wrist. Calloused fingers tightening around my tensed arm.

"I save your life and this is what I get?" His gruff voice showed no ounce of sympathy and I fired back,

"you were the one who pushed us off that cliff, you idiot." At my words, I fully take him in, a layer of clothing is missing so now he's only in a simple black tunic and his normal fire nation general pants. His hair is dripping with water and a trail of blood leaks from a cut on his lip. I openly smirk at his wound.

"Thanks so much for trying to ruin my life, but I'm leaving."

As soon as my body puts pressure on my right ankle, a broken sob is escaping my lips and I'm collapsing back onto the pebbly surface.

Jungkook stands and watches, a blank look on his face until I collapse and his lips curl in a smirk.

"I don't think so little rebel. You're coming with me back to the fire nation."

My blood turns cold, my eyes gaping at the man who I had so expertly evaded for so long, had finally won?  

"You are a monster." I seethed, wide eyes now narrowing in on him as he kneeled down to my level, fingers harshly grabbing at my chin,

"there's a reason you're on every wanted poster in the nations. If anything, you're the monster (y/n)." I hate the way he says my name. I hate the way he looks at me as if he can control me, and as if he's won. The fire nation will never win if I have anything to say for it. So I do what any other person would do, I spit in his face.

Jungkook had another thing coming if he thought getting me back to the fire nation would be easy. I couldn't bend myself out of the situation because of the fact I couldn't walk. No walking means no running. So instead I decided to be the most annoying prisoner he ever had until I figured out a way to escape.

"Get on the stupid horse."

"It's not a horse, its an alpaca, and they have feelings unlike you so stop insulting it." Jungkook spluttered while I sat on the ground in front of the barn we had found.

Since I couldn't walk Jungkook had forcefully carried me on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes until we found civilization, and we just so happened to stumble upon an alpaca farmer willing to sell.

"I don't care what it is, get on it or your gonna be dragged back." He seethed and I held up my bound hands, nothing but a rope that I could easily burn through stopping me from escaping. Well, that and my twisted ankle.

"You expect me to get on that thing by myself? I'm incapable." I said with big eyes and a pout forming on my face.

Jungkook, ever the gentleman, picked me up suddenly and threw me onto the alpaca, an oooof breaking from my mouth at the sudden change.

"Their. Let's go."

Jungkook had, for some reason, taken a long way around, and before we could cross into fire nation territory, we would have to pass an earth bending town run by the fire nation.

The closer we got into town the more Jungkook seemed to tense. Steering the alpaca closer to him by the reigns. Jungkook gave me a glare and mumbled,

"I'll be right back." To where I have no idea. The fact he was leaving me alone was unsettling on many fronts, but I had a sneaking suspicion he was still watching me.

People walked by in waves, barely paying any attention to me who had one of Jungkooks generals robes pulled on my shoulders. If anything they refused to look at me assuming I was a fire nation general than an ally.

I hated it.

"Did you hear about what happened? They found a few of them."

A stranger spoke and without anything better to do, I listened in.

"That's horrible! What's happening to them."

"The fire nation is taking them to the town center probably for an-"

Jungkook suddenly appeared in front of me, a black hat in hand while he attempted to fit it on my head.

"Stop moving." He grumbled.

"Why do I need a hat?" I asked while he messed with strands of hair, his face inches from mine.

"Because if people recognize you they'll be a riot." I scoffed and tore my face away from him, tempted to spit in his face again.

"(Y/N)." For the first time since we've been together since the fall, he spoke earnestly, softly.

"Don't do anything stupid, I won't stop them if a guard tries to kill you." The feeling of hope that Jungkook had changed, suddenly disappeared and a frown spread on my face.

Jungkook led the alpaca in silence, bordering around the large crowds that started to form in the center of town.

"What's happening?" I asked. Jungkook disregarded my question, nothing but a silent look given to me before he responded,

"nothing."

A scream erupted from somewhere and the crowd started to murmur,

"What aren't you telling me!?" I whisper shouted above the noise.

Jungkook opens and closed his mouth, suddenly at a loss for words, and on my own accord, I scanned the crowd, searching for answers or a sign, and then I saw it.  

A small monkey stuffy and elephant tears.

"This is an execution. They're gonna kill them." I spoke breathlessly.

"People of the earth kingdom, these slaves were found on the run, and by order of the fire nation, they are to be publicly executed. Rebellion is unacceptable and anyone associated with the rebellion will be killed."

My head shot to Jungkook at the soldier's words,

"Jungkook we need to do something. They're innocent." Jungkook refused to look at me, the only answer I got from him was the head of black hair.

"Jungkook there are children about to be murdered."

"I know! But we need to ignore it!" He shouted, sounding as if he needed to convince himself rather than me.

"Ignore it? Jungkook you will never be more than anything but a dog to the fire nation. A rug the fire lord will wipe his feet on, simply because you are too blind to the injustice around you."

Hurt flashed in Jungkook gold-flecked eyes, his eyes going wide much like a puppy. I didn't dote on it and instead lit the rope tying my hands together, kicking fire towards Jungkook who barely avoided the attack.

I hopped off the Alpaca, pain shooting up my leg as my ankle throbbed against the ground. Instead of putting pressure on it, I started to hop forward, ignoring Jungkooks shouts and swears from behind me.

I pushed past the crowd, tripping over people, and racing to get to the child before the guard could.

It was my fault they were found, I couldn't let them die.

It was the boy and his mother, both hugging each other as a fire nation guard stalked around them. Taunting his prey before he would publicly burn them to a crisp.

That bastard.

I saw the flame escape his palm first, a grunt escaping my mouth as I lunged forward towards the mother and son. Sweat dripping down my skin as I caught the flame, redirecting it back towards the solider.

Murmurs spread across the crowd, a few shouts of the rogue firebender igniting the area before the general let out an annoyed shout, a flame spreading around him in a circle.

I must not have realized how much energy I used because before he even stalked towards me my legs were collapsing under me. I weakly pushed a flame toward the general stalking towards me, blocking my body in front of the duo behind me.

He ignored my weak attempt to protect them and grabbed me by the throat. I scratched at his hands while he lifted me into the air, my windpipes struggling to take in air.

"You think she can save you?!" I gasped in pain when my body slammed into the ground, fighting to gather my breath as my body blended into the dirt. My body igniting with shock at the sudden drop.

"She is nothing. Anyone who associates with her will die." From the corner of my vision, I watched him reach out towards the boy, his stance flowing backward in a sign of pre-bending. Before I could do anything a voice broke through the crowd.

"Stand down general." Jungkook appeared in the center of the ring, his hand enclosed around the wrist of the general while the boy and his mother cowered behind him. Sobs escaping their mouths.

"Major Jeon-" The general fell into a low bow.

"Sir these slaves were found running from the fire nation, punishable by execution under the fire nat-"

"I've pardoned them." I would have had a similar reaction to the general if I was able to fully move. His head whipping up and his brows furrowing in confusion.

"But-"

"I am taking the rebel to fire lord Ozai, he will need witnesses and requests to speak to the slaves themselves."

"Sir-"

"Are you defying a direct order from the fire lord?" Jungkook maintained a calm composure, an annoyed scowl on his face while the general groveled on the ground at his feet.

"Of course not sir-"

"Leave, all of you!" Jungkook shouted unemotionally to the crowd who filed out as soon as the command left his mouth, the general following after them.

Jungkook walked over to me, kneeling down and placing one of my arms over his shoulders.

"You're an idiot." He mumbled while I leaned on him for support,

"look whos talking Mr. 'I won't stop them if a guard tries to kill you'." The mother shook violently with tears as we approached them, the boy looking at us in confusion as he clutched his monkey.

"We aren't taking you to the fire nation," I spoke with earnest, Jungkook shooting me a look that I ignored.

"But you do need to leave, get as far away as you can, and don't stop until you're in Ba Sing Se." The mother fell into my arms, a difficult position considering I was still leaning on Jungkook, 'thank you's' spewing from her mouth and a combination of snot and tears wetting my shirt. When she had collected herself the little boy stepped forward, and for a moment I thought he was going to hug me. But his little arms wrapped around Jungkooks leg, a smile on his face as he peered up at him, "thank you for saving mommy, monkey and me." He snuggled his face into Jungkooks leg and I analyzed Jungkook's reaction, watching his shoulders slump and his eyes fall before he gently placed a hand on the boy's head full of blonde hair.

Once the two had successfully left, Jungkook silently forced me on his back, leading us down a random trail through the woods.

"What are you doing?" I asked. He didn't respond and only started to walk faster.

"Jungkook where are you going?"

"Shut up."

Jungkook walked ahead another mile or so before he finally placed me down in a clearing, the sun starting to set behind us.

"Jungkook?"

"Do you ever shut up?" He said as he started a fire, sitting down directly in front of me and placing my ankle onto his lap. He handed me a stick and gently prodded my mouth open, his thumb tracing the outline of my bottom lip. "Bite down on this."

I followed as he said until a strangled scream escaped my throat, my back flinging backward as Jungkook suddenly snapped my ankle back into place.

"Fuck you, Jeon!" I heaved out, crawling onto my knees and glaring up at him.

"I just saved your life." He fired back, eyes raging,

"You didn't save my life you saved yours! If I died there then you wouldn't get to bring your prize back to daddy Ozai!"

"Shut up!"

I rolled out of the way as a red and orange flame shot towards me, and without thinking I flung my body at Jungkook, the two of us falling to the ground. I threw a series of punches at him, most of them hitting his chest and one hitting him square in the jaw. Jungkook grabbed at my waist and flipped us, his fingers grabbing my wrist and pinning them against the ground.

Our chests rose and fell with exhaustion and Jungkooks face suddenly fell into the crook of my neck, his grip still strong on my wrists.

"What happened to you? You used to be the best major in the fire kingdom?" He spoke softly while my brain went haywire. My past in the fire nation was dark, I did things for them I regret. Bad things I believed to be good, but even when I started to suspect they were bad, I still did them. I used to be the best, yes, at killing people, hunting people down.

"Look at my stomach." Jungkook looked at me wide-eyed as if asking for confirmation before letting go of my hands. Peeling away the fabric against my torso only to suddenly pull it down.

"Who did that to you?"

My fingers softly played with the fabric,

"Ozai. I publicly disobeyed his orders, he wanted me to teach his son a lesson. Beat him up. I couldn't. So he burned me." I lifted the fabric over my head, Jungkook harshly looking away from me.

"Jungkook. Look at me." Jungkook slowly took me in, nothing but a bra, pants, and a scolding burn against the skin of my torso.

"The fire nation kills innocents, and he's gonna kill you too if that means he gets his way."

Jungkook looked at me with unshed tears in his eyes,

"It's all I've ever known."

"I know." My answer was automatic because I've been in Jungkook's shoes. Faced the issues and controversy in my own mind, but I no longer saw it as betraying my own nation but helping save it.

"C'mere." He mumbled, pulling me into his lap. The soft pads of his fingers tracing the outline of my scar that glowed by the light of the fire.

His hands caressed the sides of my ribs leaving ripples of touch in his wake. His eyes straying upwards to my eyes, big brown doe eyes locking onto mine as if I was the key to all of his issues. All of his pain.

"Let me touch you." Jungkook was straightforward in life, and I don't know why his words shocked me so much, but they did. The want pouring from his eyes and the warmth emitting from his body clouded my brain, clouded my mind until I whispered,

"Okay."

Jungkook leaned forward, his mouth ghosting over mine before he leaned in, connecting our plump lips to one another. Melding our moves in a dance of fire and passion. My hands traveled up towards his head, curling my fingertips around his dark hair and pulling when he knawed against my bottom lip.

He groaned under my ministrations and gave me a half-lidded look,

his hands picking at the fabric of my bra.

Getting the message I grabbed at the fabric and pulled it overhead, Jungkooks eyes widening at my breasts that bounced with the freedom. His hands traced upwards until his thumbs toyed with my nipples. A hiss passing through my lips while a smirk spread on his face.

"Look at you little rebel, getting all red and responsive under me. I'm gonna make you feel so good." He mumbled just before taking the bud in his mouth, sucking and grazing it with his teeth.

"Kook" I muttered while I watched him switch breasts, my legs twitching at the sight of him looking up at me with my nipple in his mouth.

"Take your shirt off." Jungkook gave me a wink at my command and reached for the back of his shirt, pulling it up and over his shoulders.

"Yes, commander." I paid little attention to his joke, my eyes tracing the ridges and outlines of his stomach. Admired his toned section as well as the beautiful tummy fat that had started to form.  

"I want to make you scream, little rebel." His fingers pushed down at the pants that stuck to my skin and he gently pushed me down on the ground, the dirt scratching against my bareback.

"I want to see this beautiful little pussy."

Self-consciousness suddenly passed through my body in waves and my legs crossed at the sudden chill of the night air. A red flush spreading over my face as memories of the girls Jungkook attracted through his time as a general. When we were both at the fire nation Jungkook was known for getting the prettiest girls, fucking the best girls. Was I a good fuck?

"Hey." As if Jungkook could sense my stress his hands cupped at my cheeks, his eyes locked onto mine.

"You're beautiful."

The redness of my checks only seemed to darken, and I twisted my head to the side so he wouldn't get the satisfaction of looking at me.

"Shut up and make me feel good."

I didn't hear a response from Jungkook but I felt his response. His fingers trailing down to between my legs. His other hand spreading my legs apart while he laid himself down on his stomach, fingers gently spreading my folds apart in front of him.

"So pretty." He mumbled above the ringing and embarrassment in my ears.

"Jungkoo-ok." I half groaned half moaned while he inserted his middle finger into my cunt, adding his ring finger with the help of my wetness forming around his fingers.

"You're so wet for me rebel." A wet feeling spread from my inner thigh to the edge of my folds, my body jerked at the feeling.

His fingers spread in v like motion and a broken sob escaped my mouth, an annoyed yell following when he pulled his fingers out.

"Jungk-!" I gasped as he dragged me closer to his mouth, his fingers wrapping around my hips and a quick slob of spit falling onto my clit.

"I can't wait to taste you rebel, are you gonna cum on my mouth? You better." His thumb rolled around the bud of my clit, the moisture of his spit allowing his thumb to roll in all directions.

And then his mouth was on me. His tongue licking a long strip up my pussy, encircling my folds and sticking it in my hole as if it was his fingers. My back arched under his ministrations and tears formed in the corner of my eyes,

"cum baby" Jungkook muttered against my pussy, wiggling his lips further into my cunt, glistening juices covering his lips and dripping onto his nose.

"I'm so close," I mumbled out incoherently while Jungkook added a ring finger, his mouth engulfing my bud into his mouth and sucking harshly.

My mouth fell open and my legs shock while Jungkook coerced my orgasm, my head falling back onto the ground and a broken moan responding to the juices that flew through my body. My hips grinded upwards before falling to the ground, twitching in the aftermath of my orgasm.

"I was right. You taste like heaven little rebel." Jungkook wiped at his glistening mouth and my belly couldn't help but do flips at the sight, energy shooting down to my core despite the exertion I had just been through.

"Take your pants off Kook." Jungkook smirked at me and raised an eyebrow, "I'd rather have you take them off." I glared at him but he still listened, but before we could do anything I suddenly winced at the soreness of my back. I couldn't stay like this for another round.

I flipped myself over Jungkook, his eyes widening in surprise as we switched positions.

"That's better."

My eyes traveled downwards to Jungkooks dick. It was long and curved, the girth enough for my hand to fit around it, enough to fill me up and give me relief.

I threw a leg over his hip and pumped his length twice, watching his eyes clench, and his tongue pokes against the inside of his cheek.

"As much as I'd love to get a handjob right now, I really want you to sit on my dick."

I took Jungkook advice to heart, rubbing myself against his head and finally sinking down on his dick. A moan escaping the two of us as I bottomed out on his lap.

"Fuck you're so full."

I clenched harshly against him, the new feeling of being filled sending my senses into overdrive as they tried to accommodate to him inside me.

"Fuck." Jungkook whined, his head falling backward,

"if you do that again I'm gonna nut inside you." I almost chuckled at his statement but my body was working before my brain could process, my hips lifting before pushing back down. A constant flow starting while Jungkooks hands gripped at my waist, helping me bounce against him.

"Fuck Jungkook, why do you have to be such a fucking idiot." I breathed out in between moans.

"Do we really have to do this now?" He spoke in gasps.

"Maybe if you came with me..." Jungkook thrust upwards and my hands shot to his chest to sturdy me.

"I don't want you to die (y/n)" he growled and thrust upwards once more before I caught my bearing, flipping my hair to my right shoulder and rolling my hips against his while he stuttered.

"Fuck I'm cuming." Jungkooks cum shot through me in waves, squirting into my body, just as he suddenly sat up and rubbed his thumb against my clit in harsh circles.

I grabbed at his wrist to anchor me while I sobbed at the onslaught of pleasure, my own orgasm shortly following while I collapsed onto him.

After a solid minute of the two of us catching our breath, we rolled onto the ground, our chests falling and rising in sync.

"Go rogue with me," I whispered, afraid of his reaction while his eyes downcast.

"I can't, we still have to go back. I'll help you though, I'll tell Ozai you should be commissioned back into a position of power. You can be a general again."

Hurt washed through me in waves. Hurt at how naive Jungkook is, and how conditioned he had been by the fire nation, he was the golden boy of the fire lord. How could I think he would change for me?

"I'm sorry Jungkook."

"For what?" The rock in my hand slammed against the side of his head. Hard enough for his eyes to fall shut and for him to have a horrible headache in the morning, but not hard enough for him to die.

I dressed quickly, sending Jungkook one last look before racing into the forest. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I would see him, I just hopped one day he would change, for his sake and mine.

"See you later Jungkook."

Taglist: @rebeccawoodrow​ @gee-nee​ @koochiekoo​