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byemambo · 3 months ago

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4Minutes EP. 5 - My Takeaways

I'm back! I hope everyone is doing well and recovering from what happened this episode. BIG WARNING: I hacked the system (while happily creating more work for myself /lh) and made my own photo layouts to maximize the 30 image cap so I'm not sure how long this post will be but at least it's reference heavy!

The full analysis is under the cut to not spoil it for those who haven't watched yet :O

We start the episode off with Title's downfall and now in the hands of Tonkla, drawing connections in the supposed timeline dependent on whether Dome is dead or alive. Since the main story has funneled its way in solidifying the passing of Dome, we now are given the opportunity to watch Tonkla's revenge plot play out. My main question is wondering what Win will do once he is confronted with Tonkla, either through initiating that interrogation himself or look out for signs and gather evidence since they're now living together. But this is only if Win chooses his morals over his own vices, which will be one of the main points I wanted to cover today :)

Confrontation vs. Compliance: The Return to Ethics

As we've seen in the released episodes, there has been a wide range of how Tyme and Great approach life and its circumstances. Although both of them are introverted in nature, we can see their differences most through Tyme's guarded personality marked with tactical execution side by side with Great's impulsivity and kind hearted nature bursting with a strong sense of duty and justice. Tyme's pivotal life circumstances caused him to become detached and absentminded in his every day living, only giving his true self away to his grandmother and holding the strongest bond with her. Great on the other hand, entered the main family circle once Korn's mother passed and Great's mother, the mistress, elevated in status to be alongside both the son's father. In a sense, one person grew up with power handed to him and the other with power taken away from him, which really highlights how both of them interpret the world around them and interact with it.

Great is confronted with his most pivotal decision thus far, really putting himself to the test in challenging his passive nature for action: helping in seeking justice and accountability against his own family's corruption, which he is still wrapping his mind around since he's been told of how they affected Tyme's family along with others like Nan. I find this in contrast to the Great we first met in episode 1 to be so striking considering that the "old" Great was reckless and seemed to have little regard for his family, specifically his father, and now having to ponder on the ultimatum Tyme presents: confrontation or compliance.

Growing up in a Western culture with individualistic views in contrast to my ethnicity's Eastern culture with collectivist views, relationship with family is strong but in its respective ways. Individualism evokes a person to ground their reality in themselves and those who are an extension to them, such as immediate family members. These cultures value autonomy, personal responsibility and rarely fall to ostracization or becoming a scapegoat.

Collectivism finds strength in the prioritization of group effort and maintenance, valuing cooperation and collaboration, but easily gives into sacrificing autonomy for the sake of the group's overall success. We find such values in families who thrive off of power and exploitation, living in a "dog eat dog world." In a dynamic that feeds off of manipulation and utilizing violent or illegal methods to gain access to capital gain and status, many of these families, intentionally or by force, follow in blind faith that the head of the household dedicate themselves to these means for the sake of the family's survival, discouraging conflict and divergence within the system. Because this family involved themselves in high risk activity, tensions between them and other rivaling families and even within the family itself is kept under wraps until it's impossible to avoid.

This boiling point is best highlighted once Great begins to solidify his moral stance, which to his family interprets these actions as defiance and causes impatience and true colors to show through. Great's father uses deliberate language when his temper gets the best of him, willing to disregard familial love and affection for potential financial gain while throwing his own children under the bus after they've displayed no use to him.

Great's father has always operated on the basis of investment (he is a business man after all), which translates aspects of his life in terms of assets that have their various levels of worth and value in relation to himself and his own personal gain. Once he realizes that Great's behavior isn't simply another car accident scandal or frenzy that'll cause an uproar in the media and taint the family's reputation, he prepares himself for a point-of-no-return, already shoving aside his son and his mother and baring no relationship to them. "Get that son of yours," disconnecting himself at the point of realizing there is a chance of failure if he continues investing in this part of his family, that Great's behavior is not of his own son, a son like Korn who has set himself up for a life deeply rooted in submission. Korn represents compliance, Great represents confrontation, which reaches its peak once Samarn reveals information about Nan and her escape without Korn's permission.

Not having enough time to process and sort out his thoughts about the whole ordeal, Korn wishes to speak to Great before meeting their father, ending in Great's veil being pulled back to reveal his family's true nature.

Korn follows the footsteps of his father, falling under the guise of filial piety and familial responsibility. I spoke more on Korn's character traits in my episode 4 analysis, which has become oppressive and unyielding as he finds himself deeper and deeper in keeping the business from falling apart as it seems to be on its last leg.

I find that because Korn has witnessed the vast amount of violence and crime within this organization, he'd rather sacrifice himself to keep Great away from his eventual fate in also participating in the business. Rather than choice, it has become an obligation that has slowly consumed him whole to a point of not being able to shield his brother any longer from the main threat: their father.

Grief: A Shared Experience

Throughout the episodes, we've seen Korn beaten down by his father on almost every occasion he occupied the same room as him, to which he throws the bait by disclosing Great's involvement in Nan's escape and is instantly confronted by Great's mother defending her son. Living under a close eye by his father for most of his life, we're starting to see Korn enter a period of grief for himself and his life circumstances.

Denial when he found out Great helped Nan escape, anger when Great was defended by his mother to which his father defends her and leaving him with no one by his side (who used to be Tonkla), bargaining when Fasai proposes her offer to help him out of this situation on her own terms: marry her and stop seeing Tonkla, who was nothing more than a toy.

Depression when Korn identifies with his learned helplessness, that no matter what decision he makes, it's nothing but an illusion and he will ultimately give up something he loves. Acceptance when he agrees with her terms, and we witness a part of him that dies, the part which was dignified, ambitious, respectable and has become dishonorable, insecure, shameful. That person is no longer there, accepting his fate and making amends with his crossroad.

In contrast, we witness Great undergoing the same grieving process, but instead of grieving for the person he once was, he grieves for the family he once knew. The family who is loved and hated by many, the family who endured the death of a loved one, the family who carries enough influence within the industry that a few stories revealed by families suffering in the hands of their involvement will only make a mere dent in their reputation: this status and footing in their society means nothing to Great if the means in which all their wealth and resources caused irreparable damage to other families, to families like Tyme's.

Denial when his father refuses to accept responsibility for their family's corruption that has deeply impacted the lives of others. Anger once his finally meets eye to eye with his father and finalizes his estrangement from him.

Bargaining by his mother, who is also deeply affected by their initial status in the family as the "mistress and her child," finding any way to salvage the dire situation that will impact their lives forever due to her husband's influence and methods.

Depression once he confronts his mother with the real questions that haven't been answered with any ounce of satisfaction: who is this all for exactly? What is exactly best for me? Why does my voice not matter? Why do I not have a choice? Why am I being shamed and blamed? What are we even doing? Who exactly are we?

Acceptance once Great mourns for a brief moment that in order to save himself, he must make the painstaking decision to abandon his family, including his own mother. This sequence along with her desperate cries got to me, the pain a mother experiences when losing her child. Not only have they lost Korn, they too, lost Great. However, rather than sacrificing himself for his own self interest, he chooses to sacrifice himself to be with the one he loves, the one that he carries an indescribable pit in the stomach levels of guilt for, as his family has directly caused a lifetime of pain and suffering.

A cardiac arrest ensues once Great sees the guy with the gun in attempt to harm his mother, sending him back and he still chooses to sacrifice himself for another person he loves, this time his own mother.

We are blessed with an authentic depiction of unconditional love from both ends: Great telling his mother to run away, his mother remaining by her son's side, Great biding his possible last I love you, experiencing a different reality of acceptance. His mother willing to die right beside her son and allowing herself to take the bullet, she too, had experienced her own grieving process. Denial that her son has supposedly helped in Nan's escape that caused the scandal leak, which will possibly affect their family's reputation, anger and bargaining by conducting any possible attempt to bring Great back to apologize to his father and keep the position she had worked hard to attain in this life, depression once she realizes that her son is leaving for good and there's nothing she could do to stop him, and finally, acceptance in her own fate to die, as long as she can die alongside her son, the only person she has ever loved unconditionally.

We also arrive back to Tyme with his grandmother, renting their home and hiding out at a relative's house for the time being and wearing the exact outfit worn in the intro of episode 1.

Episode 5

Episode 1

Now entering the possible point-of-no-return at high stakes, we've arrived back to the beginning of the story, in which the person in need of CPR and medical attention in episode 1 is Great. This "full circle moment" is also visually present in the series's b-roll: all of these objects are spinning or being circled counterclockwise, as if time has reverted itself back to stage one. Even the camera rotation while Tyme is running to the hospital is rotating counterclockwise, that in this timeline, Tyme has the opportunity to rewrite his own history, a history that will reunite him with the one he loves, the one who's just as willing to sacrifice himself in order to protect each other. The one who both exchanged mutual reasons to choose life as an active participant, and became each other's reason that makes life worth living for.

We are the ones who are capable of changing our fate: it's all within our grasp, it's all within the confines of our hearts, it's all within our reach, it's all worth fighting for.

Honorable Mention: Jes in All Shades

Every day, I'm becoming more and more enamored by this gentleman. To think Jes is a household name who took the chance to venture outside of what he's always known as a means to try something new and challenge himself, to think that Bible has found his match who's into all the same things as him, who becomes observant of others whenever Bible speaks to make sure they're actively listening, to be so humble when people mention his accolades in so many areas that he's dedicated himself to (acting, music, sports, hobbies, etc), to be so endearing with such a fun and bright personality that is just the right temperature that compliments Bible well, to be so kind in taking care of him as the more experienced of the two, to be such an amazing person inside out that you can't help but want to scream off the rooftops for the world to discover such an incredibly hardworking individual whose goal for this particular series is to bring something new to the Thai entertainment industry, to become a trailblazer and take it upon himself as well as the 4M cast and crew to break out of the mold that's been complacent and safe, to be the best person for this role that I can't see anyone fulfilling it. Thank you so much for being a part of this project and bringing so much life to Tyme, and bringing so much insight and enthusiasm for the rest of us that support BOC series. <3

And we made it to the end WHEW. Totally wasn't fighting sleep trying to form coherent sentences before I sleep on it and forget literally everything

Quick shout out to everyone who's shown appreciation for these posts, that means the world to me and I love reading everyone else's thoughts :)

See y'all next week <3

#4 minutes #4minutes #4 minutes the series #bible wichapas #jes jespipat #bas asavapatr #natty nantanat #jesbible #thai bl #thai drama #thai series #bl series #mambo.4minyap #mambo.speaks

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araneitela · 7 months ago

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Deception and manipulation. And quite frankly, why I disagree with fanon's vehement inclusion of both for Kafka's character. I've been sitting on this for quite a while now, and I one day want to write a much longer meta on it, but I wanted to "briefly" touch on it for the ones following me, so that you know what to expect, and well, what not to expect.

Nothing within canon inherently thus far to me, has shown Kafka to be dishonest, and it's actually one of the things that further drew me to her character as I continued into HSR, the fact that she isn't. But, I've been re-watching all of her scenes yet again today to see if I can budge myself on this, but I'm still firmly rooted in my belief that Kafka is not deceptive as people make her out to be, and if anything, I feel even stronger about this today than I did yesterday, despite actively trying to find things that would prove the opposite. All I can see, honestly, is that she actively tells the truth when on screen. This entire belief that she's anything akin to deceptive, manipulative, or dishonest is genuinely just an audience's perception that stems from the general, go-to assumption that someone who has been brandished a 'villain' bears every bad trait in existence. And the audience comes to hold that perception because it's what numerous characters on our screen seem to think (one of the earliest examples of this would be Himeko and March 7th, but primarily the latter). She has a bounty of 10.899 billion credits on her head, yes, so far that's the highest that we've seen, but we also know that the Stellaron Hunters have been closely involved with a lot of chaos that's occurred throughout the cosmos (and the other hunters do not possess the ability that she does). But we need to not interlace bad traits where they, in my opinion, don't belong.

Let me elaborate a little bit on my stance here so I don't go haywire in my tags. Also, please note that this touches on her character/dialogue and what we see within the story, her "games" such as the Jepella Rebellion touch on a different element of her character: boredom. That's for another day. Anyway, yes, I will also touch on her spirit whisper, because I know that's also a huge contender into this 'deception' theory.

The first scene that holds proper and deeper nuance that we're witness to, is when she speaks to the Trailblazer in the very beginning after awakening them. We see 'Listen:' at the very beginning, which we know is something she uses to signify the effects of her spirit whisper. Now if one were to simply take her spirit whisper, at its essence, as manipulative and that's that without taking intent and practice into account, then there's nothing I can say, but I will assume that's not the case here. Not anywhere in the lines that follow (and here are the choices), does Kafka insinuate any specific action for the Trailblazer to take, if anything, she insists on the existence of their own choice and will to 'reach the end of their story'. 'Listen' in this entire sequence is a call to attention, in the way that a person can wave their hand in front of your eyes or snap their fingers near you. The Trailblazer in this context is confused, they've just woken up and are unsure where they are, what's happening and perhaps, even who they are exactly. So the call to attention makes total and utter sense. Her spirit whisper isn't merely hypnosis, if you look at its capabilities, it can be used in various ways. Now outside of her SW, you hear the softer and more authentic tone of her voice (for those unaware of what I mean: here) when she speaks to them, and you actively see a change of expression depending on your answer to her that, quite frankly, is too genuine to me alongside the change of voice to take them in any other way than at direct face value. And lastly, she answers every question posed to her by the TB within the time constraints that they are under. Does she answer them elaborately? Not exactly, but there is quite literally, no need for it. She's not being dishonest, she's not being deceptive, she's actually being quite caring, if one dare use the word (and I do).

Second, the Astral Express visit. For starters, not once does she actively use her SW here in any capacity. She reacts to what Himeko says to her, and even entertains the 'accusations' and even gives away a bit of information that by all accounts is true, the Astral Express and Stellaron Hunters both pursue, in their own ways, the most dangerous objects of the universe. They are in some capacity, two sides of the same coin. From thereon out, she doesn't dwindle or waste any time (hers or theirs), she gets to the point of the Xianzhou Luofu, she says where it is, explains what happened, and what she knows will happen if the crew doesn't go there. She also discloses that she wants to retrieve Blade. Does she disclose the entire 'idea' of how they will end up clearing the Stellaron Hunters' reputation? No, but she has no idea on the reliability of any of them, and two (Himeko, and March 7th) seem 'hostile' towards her, and one (Welt) is hesitant at best; there is absolutely zero grounds for her to entrust them with the steps of their plan. Aside from that, the entire plan that we see unfold after that quite literally never endangers any of them, if anything, it only makes them look good, and guess who the Stellaron Hunters would owe a favor to after all of this? The Astral Express. Who would the Xianzhou owe a favor to? The Astral damned Express. The ones going on a limb here, despite having a 'script', is Kafka and the Stellaron Hunters as a whole. Point me at the genuine dishonesty or manipulation in this, and if you want to add a scoop to it, any ill-intent.

And then we get to the actual Luofu. Honestly, I need someone to tell me where she lies. Even before she ever gets captured, and they're chasing after her; right at the beginning, she literally says why the chase continues, and why she's not stopping yet: 'What a hassle, this place is too far for the diviner. See you up ahead.' Take her at face value, it's what she wants from you. Granted, she can profit if you don't (but at this point, I would beg to differ), but she's not trying to get you to believe any lie, if she was, she'd be telling one.

"Best future? Best for who? As if you'd consider anyone but yourself." — March 7th "If I said 'best for the universe', would you believe me? Best for me, naturally." — Kafka

And as much as one might want to try and rub my nose in "it" at this point, I'd like to ask what anyone is trying to rub my nose into. Again, is she not being pretty forthcoming? She's not saying more than she needs to, but that's not being deceptive. If someone doesn't ask for more information, then why should you give them... more information than necessary?

"I have no interest in the words of wanted criminals - especially those skilled in the art of manipulation." — Fu Xuan.

/shakes the bars of my cage. Yes, she uses spirit whisper, we know that she does. But again, this is an audience's perception of a 'villain' at its definition, rather than a judgement call made for one in specific. I understand Fu Xuan, of course, I do, but I'm not taking an 'in-game' stance, I'm sitting in the audience's seat and dissecting what I see.

I just, where is she dishonest? She proceeds to talk to the Trailblazer at length, and goes as far as to admit that the Stellaron Hunters are not entirely innocent. Not once is it claimed that the SH are void of any blame, she takes it, here and during the Jepella Rebellion trailer (even if, yes, it is a mock trial and she's hypnotizing them, yes, I know, "the proof is in the pudding THERE, Sae!", I'm arguing nuance, not a case of 'Kafka is always honest). Guys, she comes clean entirely. I'm starting to go feral, I know, but I just don't understand. I don't get it. /semi-tugs at hair. We're almost at the end of her scenes, and I still don't see it.

I don't understand. I don't understand. And then in 1.2, Waterscale Gorge, she stops them all from fighting, has them stand down. And when Dan Heng asks her what she did, she answers it well enough. And guess who doesn't question it upon his arrival, witnessing it? The 'hotshot General' in question: Jing Yuan.

I understand 'interpretations', but I fail to see how the massive overwhelming part (if not bordering the entirety) of fanon has such a severe attachment to this concept of Kafka being inherently deceptive, or have her whole existence shrouded therein. I don't see where this is the case. We can even look at her trailer, a Dramatic Irony, and look when she speaks at the end to the last guard in question. Some could argue that she lies to him when she offers the flip of the coin, but she doesn't. She never once actually offers him a chance to live, she never once insinuates that if he guesses correctly, that he could live, that is an assumption that the audience makes, rather than it being a choice that she actively presents. 'As for the ending, want to take a guess?' One might try to argue deception with me here, but I'd like to simply fire back: where is her deception? It only exists if you hear something that she never says, that is not something that she puts in your head; that's a choice that you make. A choice, a choice, a choice. The entire thing that she preaches about since the dawn of time when we awoke as the Trailblazer. Where is she lying? It's easy to call someone else out on something that you, yourself, create in your mind. Now do I think an argument can be made, there? Sure, for I absolutely don't make the case for her to be exceptionally and thoroughly 'transparent', but it's all about nuance. It's about, quite honestly, looking at the imagery of a spider. Where is that little quote I came across a while back— ah yes, here:

“The spider's web: She finds an innocuous corner in which to spin her web. The longer the web takes, the more fabulous its construction. She has no need to chase. She sits quietly, her patience a consummate force; she waits for her prey to come to her on their own, and then she ensnares them, injects them with venom, rendering them unable to escape. Spiders – so needed and yet so misunderstood.” — Donna Lynn Hope

An innocuous corner that can be avoided, she doesn't scheme and try to lure you into a web that would mean your destruction; more often than not, you could see it rather well ahead of you, and the intrigue is that you would walk into it almost willingly. It's alluring, it's tempting to those of curious nature that seek to unravel and explain, it's intricate, it's beautiful, why wouldn't you want to draw yourself into it? But the spider at the center is not the one that coaxes you, even if she's the creator of that ever intricate web. And yet, when you get wrapped up into it, she is all encompassing, and most don't come out alive as we see. And your fate is cruel, just like— well, fate is cruel. But is she, like Kafka, manipulative? Or is she, while you may so strongly want to believe the opposite, much more honest than you wish she was? And is that why she is cruel? Is that not the cruelest?

#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it.#[ i'm tired. i'm so tired. hi hello. i'm so mentally tired that i can't even tag ramble. ]#[ just-- have this. /have this/. i lay it on the table. ]#[ it's incoherent; it's a mess. but it's just. /sighs. ]#[ i blame aven. he told me to do it. entirely his fault. i take zero responsibility for any of this. ]

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dcdreamblog · 4 months ago

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Perhaps a sadder question but: as someone with access to so much information about the lives of the All Star Squadron, do you know if Will Everett's son, the second Amazing Man, is still with us?

Despite the reports of his death at the hands of that fiend The Mist, there were eyewitness accounts that he had returned to life during those strange events where the heroes of our world got involved in a brawl with the villains of another earth (And another team of heroes called the Avengers or something like that), some saying he was seen fighting some "Absorbing Man" guy who had crossed dimensions

I would like to hope that Will Everett got to be reunited with his son, especially as he worked so hard to carry on his dad's legacy <3

First things first I should clear up some confusion. I think you're probably thinking Will Everett III, not Will Everett II Will Everett II was never a superhero and was actually a very private man. No one in my line of work has ever taken an interview with him or Will Everett Sr's. daughter whose name was never even made public knowledge (We only know it was a woman because her child doesn't have her surname). I don't even have a picture of either of them to show you. Now both of Everett senior's children ALSO had a son apiece. William "Junior" Everett III and Markus Clay. As you stated, Everett Junior died in the line of duty serving with the Justice League Europe alongside the original Crimson Fox, Constance D'Aramis. I can, unfortunately, confirm his death. He's buried beside his grandfather in Valhalla Cemetary in New York where most of the rest of the All Stars and their children who have passed are buried... (TW below the cut, graves)

As you can see, though, the Amazing Man legacy does not lay abandoned. While William III was the son of William Sr. through his son, his daughter had a son of her own, a man named Markus Clay who was equally inspired by his grandfather's and then his cousin's example. Clay is a native of New Orleans and has become a fixture and a point of strength for the city's embattled communities of color as well as serving with distinction on the moderns rosters of the Justice Society. When asked about his cousin's service he said simply: "I never thought I would be called up. Junior was going to be Amazing Man, just like our grandfather. He was on the Justice League. I was paralyzed for months after his death, I didn't know what to do. When a hurricane rolled through the city and I saw people suffering...it was like both of them had a hand on my shoulder. I'm just trying to do right by the memory of my grandfather, who was my greatest mentor. And my cousin, who was my best friend." Clay actually did a big interview for The Times-Picayune not too long ago I suggest you look up.

#dc #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #superhero #comics #all star squadron #amazing man #william everett #william everett III #markus clay #tw unreality #unreality #tw death

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jacksjoke · 2 years ago

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Title: netting Summary: Pre-series speculation centered on Palm Ao3 link

or read here :)

Palm’s eyes are fixed on the ceiling when his alarm disturbs the night’s quiet. For no reason he can name, he’d only managed to sleep on and off for less than four hours, rendering his two-am wakeup call unnecessary. He retrieves a loose linen from his dresser to settle over his tank-top and denim cut-offs, an outfit designed for comfort over anything else, then gives his teeth and face a wash before making for his favourite place to be: the shore.

He’s gotten into the habit of arriving earlier than his seniors, even if it’s just by moments, to get a start on the morning’s routine so that they don’t have to. Palm has worked alongside these men for half his life, and a decade of watching sunrises with them has made the group more of a family to Palm than any he might have had otherwise. A kindly older man Winyu, P’Bank, and the latter’s younger brother appear in good time, soon to be followed by several others, as it goes every morning.

“How’s it, Palm?” Winyu asks, like they’ve just crossed paths at the market midday rather than their fishing boat at three-am. He never seems tired, not in all the years Palm’s known him.

“All right, Leung. Just got through cleaning up some of yesterday’s nets that were left.” Palm drops the netting atop the rest and swipes his hands together as he stands. He can’t help but grin at Winyu’s usual smile. “Ready if you are.”

From the earliest hours to very near the men’s break and to Palm’s enjoyment, the day is shaping up to be the same as those before it. He’s got his shirt tied around his waist, hair that had been soaked by water on the boat now beginning to dry under the morning sun, and any minute is sure to find nong Bee asking no one in particular when they’re going to get breakfast.

Instead, as he’s helping the yelping boy untangle a crab from one of their nets, Palm catches sight of a man he hasn’t seen in well over two months, and his laughter fizzles to nothing.

“P’Palm, don’t — ”

“Just a second,” Palm assures Bee. “What’s this anyway, your fifth crab and you still go redder than chili paste at the sight of it.”

Bee scrunches his nose at Palm and dismisses him with a jerk of his chin, coaxing another smile from Palm who uses the moment to brace himself against his unexpected visitor.

“Bpaa,” he says.

“Palm. You look well. How’s things?” The question is similar to Uncle Winyu’s, but unlike Winyu Palm knows better than to think his father genuinely cares.

“Fine,” Palm answers, polite but carefully neutral. “What brings you here?”

“I have a proposition.”

Of course you do, Palm knows better than to jibe. “What’s that?”

“There’s been…” Chanon frowns, swallows. “Khun Kiattrakulmethee was killed this week past.”

Palm’s first thought is to ask why this has anything to do with him. His father dedicated the entirety of Palm’s childhood and now young adulthood to protecting this man, a boss in the mafia, instead of raising his own son. He’d met the family, only once and for a very brief occasion. The boss’ wife was elegant, more like royalty than someone involved in the… dicier side of their country’s economy. And they’d had a son too. He was quiet, maybe two or three years Palm’s junior, and did nothing but avoid Palm across the room after they’d exchanged a polite wai.

Palm ignores the opportunity to ask, Does this mean early retirement for the both of you? and says in its place, “I’m sorry,” because he’s never been honest with his dad on any accounts and he has no reason to start now.

“Yes, well… It’s become something of a pressing issue for his wife, that is — Khun Thanya is requesting protection for their son as well. There’s never been cause for worry but the boss’ assassination has her on edge.”

“Makes sense.”

“All that being said, I have a job for you, son.”

Son. “I have a job.”

“I mean a job that pays in more than fish,” Chanon says, eyes darting to the sea at Palm’s back like it’s there to annoy him specifically.

“Fish are my life, Bpaa.”

“And I’m offering you more. Your role will be to protect their son, the heir, Neungdiao. It pays generously, you’d be set up to live right on their property, and you’d attend a private school — ”

“I’m going to be 20 years old; I’m not going to dress up as a high school kid to babysit another. There’s a hundred guys who’d jump at the chance to take a bullet, it’s not me.”

Chanon looks at the sky, squinting against the sunlight, and then says simply, “They asked for you, Palm.”

“Huh?”

“The family is about trust, you understand? It’s natural for you, my son, to protect hers, as I did for her husband. That coupled with your history in muay, you’re the piece Khun Thanya is looking for.”

Palm shakes his head, tipping back onto one heel with crossed arms. “I’m not just a piece to be given to these people, Bpaa.”

“Son, Nuengdiao is in the process of taking over his father’s work; he needs to be kept safe. This isn’t a butler position. You, as the boy’s protector, would be considered one of the most important people in the family. This may turn into a lifelong career that ensures you never want for anything again.”

Palm doesn’t want or need anything as is, not that his father would know what that feels like. He’s never been satisfied here; the death of Palm’s mother had ended with her husband leaving Palm here with the villagers so that he could do something ‘worthwhile’ elsewhere. Palm wouldn’t have guessed that synonymous to playing bulletproof vest to a mafia boss.

But Palm knows Chanon’s being here is a pretence to guise the truth, which is that Palm has no choice. He’s already sold him out to Thanya, and come to complete the deal. A transaction. Chanon’s apparent failure to protect his charge means the next generation, an unfortunate son, has to give up his life too. For all he knows, Chanon will turn up dead if Palm flat out refuses to help; and Palm — or, God forbid, his family in this village — would be next.

The man must see Palm’s resignation because he gives a slight nod. “Brace yourself for what’s to come. And whatever it takes, do not let anything happen to him, Palm.”

A day like any other.

#i havent written in so long BOIII #i also want to write a scene for the og trailer combined w the new about the dancing You Know but idk enough yet about the pal #*palmneung dynamic i feel like so imma wait #this is now the 2nd time ive written a pre-series speculation fic starring a pond naravit character GHJKGLJD LMAO #so thats something #my writing #never let me go #nlmg #links #ao3 #never let me go series

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scarletooyoroi · 1 year ago

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Her apology for the behalf of the situation briefly stunted him. A true part wished for Shenhe to not have such concerns, a selfish and quickly defensive side with such an aspect bared. On the other hand? Wasn't this the far cry from when the divine construct of her spear found itself situated at his neck, cradling his life in a way so different from the time her hands currently do? Unknowing her own inner battle, the gratitude wells up like the growth of a coasting wave.

"I really appreciate that, Shenhe. Your answer and your thoughts."

In truth such a quality is an aspect he's always seen within her. Despite the callings of being a demon either encased or enacting the will of dangerous frost, so, so many never realized the tender strength and glorious potential those hands always had. Power in his held the physical manifestation, and that of the will, a culmination that makes her someone... someone.

....

For the time that can be a truth gently nestled in the folds of his heart.

"Hm?" His voice holds soft as the well of emotion disrupts the normally tranquil balance. The question itself being another bizarre door that he hadn't anticipated. After charging so hastily after him in those coming days, that hadn't slipped into consideration, a mystery that the family left always waiting never had a chance to contemplate. Faint as it was, similar to gentle plucks of a string, silvered lines of memory were trying to paint a picture back together. It was a thought that prompted him to brush at the side of his hair.

"I.. let me see. I bothered to concentrate on that before, just where he had said.." 'That he was going.' As the thought silently finishes the rest..

Thoma begins to recall.

Another ripple traces the gilded line of his memories with the contents within, truth, as best as it could be rediscovered.

A day where his teary but proud eyes looked at a man's solemn face. One that seems to hold tenderness, but hiding such a scale of shadow that.. a child normally would never consider. That a wife would perceive as the grim days of a samurai to see to completion.

Feeling that gentle touch of a calloused hand ruffling up his hand with such familiarity.

"Son... I have to see to it. To let my ---- cast it's last and more important flame."

"It's the ashes of a fire reborn, a torch we aim to deliver..."

Before anything more could be gleaned, gradually does the wave of memory treat him as an outsider instead of the owner, throwing him back to that static scratch of haze that inevitably leads to his prior position, situated alongside Shenhe.

"Casting the last flame... A torch, deliverance.." There was no questioning note within his voice. Despite the way his throat flexes, it's the growing reality creeping in of how bizarre that sounds. By no means was it the flower approach of Inazuman language drawing a scenario out. No, what he witnessed was a conviction that once upon a time was alien, this time with his own experiences, he saw it settled upon countless.

An event he intends to make happen whether at the expanse of his own life.. or anyone in his way.

That possibility makes a curiously grim thought edge into mind.

"Shenhe.. Remind me again. Ever since we've stepped in Mondstadt, hasn't there been a curious case we've caught note of? Something that kept the knights alert, others in high tension involving the settlements further from the main city?" Thoma begins, images of plumes of hazy smoke, disturbing accounts of a slaughter that finds itself alien from the work of any riftwolf. It was the act of a butcher, and a particularly dangerous foe.

Why was the possibility rolling heavier in his mind? At the very least, a need to quell the way his instincts hissed at a possibility. Without even realizing it, his foot began to tap as a means to steady the mind. The growing, anxious urgency was knitting well covered nervousness. (To most.)

"Hadn't.. some Lectors we've encountered made such missions?"

For a child to maintain their parents' connection and happiness... Shenhe listens to Thoma's words, and feels an old wound stirring in her chest (admittedly, one that had never had the chance to heal, red ropes keeping the knife in place to stop an eventual bleeding, instead of it being taken out for a chance at recovery or death). Her father had asked that of her - in much less gentle words and actions than Thoma's mother, it would appear. How ironic, that their circumstances would mirror one another so. Shenhe's father had wanted to sacrifice her to bring back his dear, departed wife, while Thoma ached to plunge himself into the fire to return his lost father to his grieving, but undemanding mother...

Shenhe averts her gaze, and wonders if the resentment she harbours towards the father she lost to grief and madness is something she should be ashamed of - something she would be ashamed of, were the red ropes come off of her soul.

Thoma's question snaps her out of her thoughts (and dissipates the frost that had begun to form at her fingertips - she blinks, frowns, and sets the remains of her pizza aside). Someone she cared for... i that truly the same as family? He speaks of family that values the bond they have, but when had her father value her in that so-called bond that had only included him and her long lost mother? Surely, if family is such a bond of love and care, then she, the daughter, the cursed child, must never have been included in it.

" ... if it were someone I cared about, I would offer my assistance in any way I can, of course." The adepti's student finally relents, quelling the old resentments brimming under the ropes tied around her soul and mind, keeping that beast tightly under control. "It is honourable of you to want to help your mother and see your family reunited. I am sorry that it hasn't happened." That much, at least, is what lies in the sincerity of her heart. Thoma and his family are nothing like her own. If a reunion is what he desires, of course he should be allowed to pursue it...

"Your father..." She resumes, a little softer, soul settling in calm waters once again. "This final chapter he spoke of... did he ever told you what it was before he set out on his journey?" Something about this sounds... strange, to say the least. "I do not know your father, but it sounds like he had a secret or two that he kept close to his chest. Did you ever figure out what they were?"

#maquiscursed #| Threads #MMMMMMMMMMMM #the set up unfurling..#They might've been being.. watched since exiting Liyue #and even further for Thoma's case

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purplekiwis · 3 years ago

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The Bikini Problem (Part 3 of CEO Harry having a v big crush on adorable and chubby Y/N)

You can read PART 1 here.

You can read PART 2 here.

So... I've been a bit obcessed with Harry's hands today, and somehow this happened. I would like to say sorry in advance for my whore-like behaviour 😌

Harry has got a problem.

A very big problem.

He was bored at home during the weekend, having nothing to entertain himself with besides the episode of House of Cards playing on his Smart TV and that evening’s dirty dishes piled up on the sink for him to wash. He hadn’t felt like doing them straight away, so he’d kicked back on the couch for a bit instead, still wearing nothing but a pair of black briefs and his cinnamon colored bath robe – having taken a shower earlier and not bothered to put on any clothes, since he had no plans for after dinner that night.

He usually never did these days… other than the occasional whisky drink shared between mates at their preferred pub downtown. But uprightly, even those kinds of invitations had been getting turned down by him lately...

Harry feels lonely.

Not due to lack of friends or people to hang out with, but simply because he has finally come to the bitter understandment that whenever he goes to hang out with “his” people, no conversation he ever has with them fills the void in his soul he wants to have suffused so badly. The endless empty conversations bore him, and constantly have him driving back home questioning himself over what he could have ever possibly found interesting in these people he calls his friends - as stereotypical as it sounds, all they ever want to do is talk about sports and riches… oh, and lust after young women who aren't their wives or girlfriends, of course.

Harry is sick of it.

He just wants to experience something authentic. A real connection with someone that will lift that constant cold and lonesome weight on his chest. A beautiful person he could take on nice dates on the weekends and cuddle before bed. Someone that’s bright… and soft… and interesting… whose face and body he could touch lovingly in the mornings, and kiss passionately in the nights… someone like Y/N.

Harry mindlessly nips at his thumb. His eyes fixed on the big TV screen as his mind spawns lovely scenes upon scenes of him and her together. He pictures them walking hand in hand on the sidewalk of one of their city’s main streets at night (the one with the big theater, whose architecture Harry likes a lot), the street feels alive due to the ceaseless chatter happening on the terraces of the small restaurants around them, and there’s also a few people walking alongside them, but not enough to make things any less intimate and comfortable for them.

The wind blows on Y/N’s hair, and Harry is presented with a breath of her delicate perfume, tormenting his fiery side with a deep desire to kiss her until he can no longer distinguish her body scent from his. They’re talking about nothing and everything. He smiles to himself at the thought of them doing something he hasn’t done in a long time – laughing so loud and genuinely that their bodies crook forward and their bellies start to hurt.

Christ! He misses seeing her already, and it's only been what- 33 hours since he's seen her last...?

He wonders if she's having fun for her birthday on her weekend holiday... He hopes she is... or well, not too much fun. Especially not any kind of fun involving clothes coming off and someone else loving on her perfect curves. The possibility alone leaves him antsy and makes his stomach feel queasy. He doesn't want anyone else touching her like that. No. Fuck no. Absolutely not. She's only for him to touch... once he stops being a pussy and musters the courage to ask her out, that is.

The thoughts that she might be doing exactly what Harry is hoping she isn't still haunt him though...

And that's how Harry ended up deciding to go snoop her Instagram account. Regardless of the way his heart was beating anxiously in his chest - terrified he would somehow out himself for liking one of her most personal pictures on accident. Harry wasn't too keen on using Instagram... he just had one for the sake of having one, honestly. And his profile was strictly professional... the only pictures in it being one highly polished portrait of himself and two other group photos taken at a business convention.

Which would only make things much more weird if he put a like on a random picture of his employee.

And it wasn’t like he was from fact stalking in a creepy sort of way or anything... he was just curious to know what kinds of things she liked to post about, and maybe pick out some essential bits and pieces of her personality... besides, her account wasn't even that hard to find, since she’d just freshly followed the company's Instagram page. Out of sympathy, Harry's guessing... since it’s a shit page, with nothing interesting to see in it, really… being truthful, visiting it always leaves Harry a bit annoyed that the modern world has managed to compel him into hiring someone to care of his company's online stuff, only for them to reproduce the same uninteresting posts everyone else in their business field is already doing. He’s surprised to find that so many people follow them... and yet, maybe he's just a hard bloke to please when it comes to the content he consumes.

Once he finally opens her profile, his heart jolts in his chest - mouth going wide from wonder and surprise.

The last picture she had posted was on that day's morning. Her accompanied by two girl friends. Posing all around a sunbed and smiling bright smiles into the camera… in their bikinis.

She's set on killing him.

And he's starting to fear that she might.

Harry can't help but to groan out loud at the sight of her. Fuck... that's a work of art if he's even seen one. His eyes scan every detail of her body that there is to see… She’s wearing one of those bikinis where the panty straps go up above her hipline, leaving her love handles and belly fully on display. God. Harry wants to bite them. He wants to bite and kiss her all over. Her flimsy top has little support for her breasts - showcasing the natural curve of them and allowing him to more or less make out where her nipples are. And yet, surprisingly... the piece still leaves quite a bit to the imagination, but Harry likes that it does… he couldn’t stand the thought of other perverts getting to see any more of her than they already did.

His fist unconsciously drops to his crotch, smooth, veiny hand stroking at the bloated up cock hidden beneath his bathrobe."Dirty girl, look what you're doing to me..." He mumbles in between gritted teeth. Bloody minx... It feels almost supernatural at times, the power she holds over his body. "Are you going to be Daddy's good girl and take care of this big mess you made now? Of course you are... always so good to me." He mutters to himself, once his fingers wrap firmly around the thick lenght compressed under his boxers, giving it a testy tug upwards.

He pauses his actions abruptly.

God! What was he doing? Was he really about to tug one out at the expense of his employee's bikini picture? No no no no... he couldn't. He can't. That would be taking things way too far - Harry might be a dirty bastard, yes... but he's not the kind to touch himself staring at people's pictures without their consent. He's not a creep.

So he does the second most ethical thing one could do in that situation (the first being not touching himself at all and letting it go down on its own, but he's far too worked up not to do anything), he goes on Pornhub and types something on the search bar he won't ever admit to anyone but himself - basically a quick description of Y/N's main features to see if he can find someone that looks like what his cock needs them to look like for the premium wanking experience.

Harry scoffs at the disappointing results he gets. Is this what society is considering as curvy nowadays? He is disappointed to say the least. Even more so when he keeps scrolling and clicking next on the pages, only to come to face the sad reality that none of these girls looks even a bit like Y/N. He puffs his cheeks, settling for a POV style video where a girl is laying down on her stomach. She’s got a nice round arse and what he's sure will be a pretty pussy… but ultimately, what makes him press the play button is the fact that her panties are about the same color of Y/N’s cute bikini. He spits thickly onto his palm, lowering it down to cup his cock under his undies. Admittedly a little cranky that it’s not actually her that he's watching... but he guesses this is just going to have to do… for now.

tag list: @tenaciousperfectionunknown @kissyh94

PART 4 📝

#i love being evil. its my favorite hobby #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry fanfic #ceo!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction

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lostgreekgod · 3 years ago

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delusion

a/n: hello aaaaa i had @theaudacitytowrite give me a prompt for a loki x reader fic solely because I do not find entertainment elsewhere! anyways

word count: 2776 (shit got longer, but what can I say I'm very feely when it comes to angst)

warnings: angst. angst angst angst. some crying. there was this one mention of blood, tendons & stuff ? but that's about it have fun crying

pairing: loki x f!reader

summary: you and Loki have been together for quite some time now. what happens when his insecure self realizes that you love him? and that he does too?

another a/n: I feel like this could use a part 2 i might come up with it next week because I've got a 7 day break from school yayy lmk if you'd like that nexie

4 years. It had been 4 years, 3 months, and 27 days since y/n had shed a tear. But on this fine autumn morning, as the yellow and brown leaves rustled in the gentle winds, as the smell of coffee, pumpkin, and spice wafted in the air, she let a tear fall- courtesy of her lover. No, scratch that. Her ex-lover.

\\ 3 hours earlier \\

Humming a tuneless song, an exhausted y/n walked back to her room in the Avenger’s tower. A whole day of training wouldn’t be smart when she had a crucial mission to lead just the next day, but she wanted the mission to pan out exactly right. This wasn’t her first mission, but the stats were so much more critical compared to the missions she had been sent on before. A new rival organization was springing up in SHIELD’s radar, and they seemed as high as ever in spirit, regardless of how the Avengers had managed to crush HYDRA not so long ago. Apparently, according to a message they had received a few moments before, the up-and-coming organization had 4 junior agents in captivity, and in exchange for those agents, they wanted intel. Fury’s plan was to provide a hard drive with incorrect information with an embedded virus, and have the agents rescued before the rival agents decrypted the file and realized SHIELD’s play. Two birds with one stone, as he had phrased. y/n was going to go in with Natasha and Loki. Nat, because she was as light as a cat on her feet, and Loki because he had his seidr for illusions, teleportation, et cetera. This wasn’t going to be her first mission with her 4-month boyfriend either, but she was excited to be fighting alongside him, nevertheless. As she washed up in the shower, she heard her room door open and close with a click. Finally. She thought with a smile. She could go to sleep in her beloved’s arms for the few hours she had left for rest and relaxation before they set out. Putting on her nightgown, she left the bath. She saw how Loki was cocooned on her bed, arms reaching out towards her, a little smile on his face. Unlike her, the god didn’t train much- but he still looked tired.

“Hello, my little lioness. Whom did you beat up today? You do realize it is wiser to rest before a mission.” He said in a loud, lazy whisper. All y/n could do was smile sweetly at him and snuggle under the covers. He knew how the lack of training made her insecure about her ability to be stealthy. Instead of letting Loki’s arms wrap around her like most of the other nights, she spooned his chest instead. Loki’s eyes widened at the sudden gesture, his body tensing up at the sudden disposal of love. He had only given love; he had never been on the receiving side of it. Wait, love? He didn’t love y/n. He didn’t. That swell he felt in his chest every time he saw her was simply the result of the great appreciation and respect he had for her. Nothing more. He couldn’t love her. After all, everyone he had ever loved ended up being taken away from him.

Chuckling lightly, he hoped y/n wouldn’t catch onto his nervousness. “What are you doing my dear?”

Inhaling his scent, y/n mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleeping. Go to sleep my love. We have to be up in less than 3 hours.”

My love? Yes, y/n had called him that multiple times, but he had never thought much of it. Why was he suddenly so wary of it? Did y/n truly love him? No, maybe she wasn’t thinking. She was already worn out and sleepy, maybe she blurted it out accidentally. No one could love him. No one.

y/n sensed that he still hadn’t relaxed. Cracking her eyes slightly open, she asked lightly, “Is everything okay, love?” Loki’s brows furrowed at her question. There it was again. Love. Loving him was impossible. To love him would be delusional. A move of delusional stupidity. Blatant ignorance.

Loki shifted away from her and sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his chest when he heard her whine in response. He met her eyes only to be asked another question. “Love, what’s the matter?”

His heart clenched against his chest, suddenly the room was too hot. He had to understand what was going on. He had to figure this out before it was too late.

“Love?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

y/n scanned his face, trying to understand the reason for his sudden withdrawal. She simply hummed in response.

Loki raised his eyebrows, indicating her to reiterate her response.

“Yes, what is the matter?”

“You referred to me as ‘love’.” He repeated, his tongue spewing out the last word like it was coated in dirt and grime.

“Yes, I suppose I did. Is something bothering you?” she asked again, placing her hand on his thigh as a gesture of concern.

How was he expected to ask her if she actually, truly loved him, without causing a kerfuffle? Without making it seem awkward, without losing her? What if she said she didn’t love him? What then? Would that make him feel better? Would that make him happy? A chill ran down his spine when he realized his answer. No. he wouldn’t be happy. In fact, he’d be terribly upset. He wanted y/n to love him. Shaking his head, he tried to heed logic over his emotion. He had to stop himself before he caused something he couldn’t fix. Before y/n realized the monster he truly was. He had to protect his beloved y/n, that would be the least he owed to her, after all that he had led her into.

He neutralized his expression, calming his breathing. This was for the best. He was the God of Lies, he did not deserve love after all that he had done.

“As a matter of fact, y/n, something is bothering me.”

y/n nodded, encouraging him to explain his predicament. “You can talk to me, love.”

Loki inhaled quickly, the use of the blasted term knocking him out of character for a second before he was able to regain his composure. He would ask the question directly. Right to the point, like he was doing business. That was the only way he could maintain his pretense without breaking down too soon. y/n might never forgive him after tonight, but to have her angry at him was so much better than losing her, on his account.

“Do you love me?”

y/n gasped lightly at the sudden question, her eyes widening at how Loki asked her about something so deep with no emotion in his voice. She sensed his sudden hostility, this coldness he was presenting her with. Sitting upright, she looked into his eyes. Nothing. She could read nothing from his expression. All she could pick up was this eerie sadness radiating off of him.

She decided to try reasoning with him. This sudden hostility meant something was bothering him at a much more personal level, and such issues mustn’t be dealt with before an important mission. She would know.

“We don’t have to do this today, Loki. We have to be up early tomorrow, and I doubt- “

“Answer the question, y/n.” Loki interrupted, his voice hardened like steel.

“Loki, we really mustn’t-“ she tried again.

“Answer, y/n.” he pressed.

y/n could only look at him and wonder what the cause was for the unexpected change in his demeanor. How was she supposed to tell him? How was she supposed to give the answer to the one question that could either make or break everything that they had together? How was she supposed to tell him that her love for him was far more than life? That he was her life? It didn’t matter how less time they had spent with each other; she knew him a lot longer before they had decided to begin their courtship, and she had fallen in love with him even before they had gotten romantically involved. She only fell harder for him after she saw how he truly was. How broken and vulnerable, how he yearned for a place in someone’s heart, how he wished someone could love him without any foretold conditions. How he wished to be free. Loki’s eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. y/n’s lack of response answered his question. She did love him. But he had to hear it from her. That was the only way he could finish this for good. For his y/n.

“I’m waiting.” He prompted, slightly flinching at the coldness in his voice.

y/n’s eyes flicked over to his, her skin eliciting goosebumps from the steely nature of his voice. He had never been like this to her. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was under Thanos’ control. Breathing deeply, she reached out and held his hands, shutting her eyes for a moment.

“Yes. I do. I love you,” she whispered, blood pounding against her ears. Her heart convulsed in her chest when Loki didn’t reply. She cracked her eyes open, her fingers growing cold at Loki’s unchanged demeanor.

Loki’s chest heaved at her response. ‘I love you,’ she had whispered, her eyes shut at the vulnerability of their situation. He already knew what she was going to say, but to hear it from her own mouth, her voice tiny as ever in fear that he wouldn’t return her feelings had him gasp slightly. His blood ran cold, his mind freezing at another realization. He loved her too. Of course he did. How could he have been so blind? He loved her so much, he hadn’t even noticed. Finish it! Finish it right now! Before you make things worse! His mind screamed at him. He knew what he had to do. Swallowing, he tried to memorize the feel of her hands against his. This was all he was ever going to have. A memory. A memory of his little lioness, a memory of what he would have had if he was someone different. Someone nicer, better. Someone not him. He pulled away from her, and met her eyes, his expression stoic and emotionless. Like the monster he was.

“Pity.” He whispered, his heartbreaking at how y/n’s eyes widened. He thought he experienced heartbreak when he lost his mother. As destructive as that moment was, many years ago, he believed he wouldn’t feel anything over this. After all, you can’t break something that’s already broken. But boy, was he wrong. This was heartbreak. And apparently, it's even worse when you go through it a second time. His veins felt like ice, his head heavier than ever. He could feel his throat closing up, all he wanted was to rip his heart out of his chest. He didn’t deserve her. Hell, he didn’t deserve to live after all that he had done.

“What?” came y/n’s voice, a little barely over a whisper. He couldn’t help but notice how her voice was heavy, laced with hurt.

“It’s a pity you think you love me.” He reiterated, his words chapping away at his already cracked heart.

y/n couldn’t process the event unfolding in front of her. Loki didn’t love her. No, worse. Loki thought it was stupid that she loved him. If she had any concern for her dignity, she would ask him to leave. But she loved him far too much. She decided to try one last time. Straddling him, she reached over and cupped his face in his hands, pressing her lips against his ice-cold ones. He was shocked for a moment, and before he realized, he was kissing her back. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you too. But all could do was try and engrave in his mind the feeling of her soft lips on his, the warmth of her hands against his cheeks. This was the end. He had to use all his willpower not to pull her in his arms and deepen the kiss, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Breaking away, y/n whispered, “it may be stupid that I do. Pathetic, even. -It isn’t pathetic. I love it.- Honestly, not one day goes by where I don’t face criticism about how I must be an ignorant fool to love someone like you. But what these people don’t understand, is that they are the ones that are ignorant. They do not see you as I do, and although I wish every day that they would, I doubt it will ever happen. You are, the best thing that has ever happened to me. That ever will happen to me,” she says, taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Can’t you feel this? This is what I feel every time I think of you- this is how I feel every time you merely breathe in my direction. -You are the reason I still exist, my dear. You keep me tethered to the outside world.- My love for you has been in existence for far longer than our courtship. I wish I could do more than just tell you how much I love you, if I could, I would give you anything, everything you’ve ever wanted; my heart was yours the moment I set eyes on you 2 years ago. So take it, trample over it- it was yours to do anything with anyway. -So was mine. I am yours, just as you claim to be mine.- I love you, Loki Friggason, and I refuse to stop. -I love you too, my darling y/n. but I must do this. For you. Forgive me.-”

All Loki could do was hold in all those thoughts he desperately wanted to put in words. He could feel his eyes well up, his chest convulsing for the umpteenth time. Inhaling her scent, he hoped he would remember the sweet smell of chocolate and wine she always smelled of.

With great restraint, he pushed her off of him, his heart churning at y/n’s gasp. Her heart cracked at his dismissal. He couldn’t look at her while he shattered her heart, while he ripped it right off the pedestal. This was the end.

“You say all this, but you mean nothing by it, I assure you. I have encountered numerous midgardians professing their love for me, but I can tell when someone lies y/n. And it is very clear to me how you are simply overwhelmed. You do not love me. You are simply but a blatant, ignorant fool.” Could his heart shatter any further? Apparently, yes. It clawed at his chest, pain searing in his bones. He would feel all of it. He would embrace it.

He forced his lips to morph into a twisted, sickening smile. Agony. That is what he felt. Fresh burning agony, like fire in his tendons.

“What we have is all but a product of boredom. I was simply bored, silly mortal.” He looked up at her when she gasped, her hand on her heart. It was almost as if he could hear it shatter. All he wanted to do was hold her and weep. Tell her how sorry he was. Tell her how he wished he was the person she truly deserved. Instead, he was going to crawl into a ball and wish for death.

He got up to leave. Once and for all. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he willed his tears to sink back to wherever they came from. He didn’t deserve to cry.

“Did I ever matter to you?” he heard her whisper. Deciding not to answer, he stepped towards the door before she called to him. “Did I, Loki?” she asked again, her voice steadier. There was the woman he had hopelessly fallen in love with. A lioness, she certainly was.

He turned around to look at her, the same lifeless smile dancing across his lips. If he was someone else, he would have been taken aback at y/n’s stoic expression. She would rise again. She would continue to live her life, and no one was going to stop her. Especially him. That was the lioness he knew of. The only evidence of her hurt was the tiny teardrops prickling in her eyes, which he could see only because of the morning sun rays peeking in through the gaps in the curtains. She never cried.

“No,” he breathed, swiftly exiting through the door before she could see the tears that had traitorously fallen onto his cheeks.

part 2 here!

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renaerys · 3 years ago

Note

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #blossick #ppg reds #ppg blossom #ppg brick #september fic prompts #weird king au #i have no idea what i will call this yet #but it'll make its way to AO3 and it'll be a Thing #i have to think of themes and shit now #i came here to shit post and here we are with another full on Reds fic

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nabrizoya · 4 years ago

Text

RoW Theories and Things I Want to See

with RoW literally a few weeks away, here’s some theories your way.

this is Really long. like, really very long; mind you.

Nikolai might become a disabled character.

It’s just the vibes. If we can take reference from the Too Clever Fox story, there’s a line that says “...and his [Koja’s] fur never quite sat right the same...”, which might hint at it (mostly bc i don’t want him to die). Also if this is indeed possible, it can be used to address ableism if it exists in this universe, especially since Nikolai is someone in the highest position of power.

Zoya will experiment the shit out of powers.

Idk why the synopsis says that using her powers might be a great deal, which tbf will be because she is truly the most most powerful atm; but Zoya wouldn’t mind taking the step outside of the old norms and bend the orders until they serve their purpose. That’s the entire goal rly.

But all along, she will consciously keep herself mindful to not hunger or discharge her power in a way that may cause harm. She knows the tyranny of the Darkling and the ways he employed. She knows better.

More character depth to Zoya.

Given the excerpts, the book does seem to explore Zoya’s infinite grief. And of course her Suli heritage, which a great part of the fandom consistently wants to shadow what with the talk “white features/ part Ravkan” bs.

But there’s more. I hope RoW will show Zoya’s dilemma (that was alr hinted in KoS) she has with the power she holds, the responsibility she has with having that power + using it in the way that will not be detrimental to her and the country. It will be a great way to portray her self-awareness and doubt and insecurity. She is a good leader, that much is told in text but not shown. There’s character development from the end of R&R until KoS that makes her evolve from a what she was then to the capable and mature 22 year old she is in KoS.

Of course all of their capabilities will come to light in RoW but I think Zoya and the agency to her as a character will play an integral part. More so because Zoya is to be the conduit to reversing the current Grisha orders, which runs in parallel with the fact that she needs to go back, go back to the roots of her Grisha knowledge and roots of her i.e. her unending grief and trauma.

She will need to forgive herself while also dealing with the guilt and anger she may have caused due to her position and power. All of this while dealing with her own complex and contrasting emotions due to her own trauma.

Nikolai is held for treason.

The word of allying with The Darkling may be out and that is enough reason for the entire country to turn against him. The secret about the monster causes issues more than enough already, and this will plunge the country into deep political turmoil and threats to security. So RoW will be more politically driven. That said...

There’s no overt war.

By this I mean that there will not be war on the battlefield, both armies or more charging at each others’ enemies and such. Ravka cannot afford one either. The excerpts have already proved that. There will be skirmishes akin to a war scenario, but a complete battle like the last battle in R&R? Like a final battle? That’s not going to be there, I think… What I’m assuming might happen is that the Fjerda and Ravka will take a possible Cold War route, if it isn’t already the case they’re already dealing with atm.

Ravka’s monarchy will collapse.

It may become a democracy or any other form of public or majority vote. But the monarchy (as well a possible dictatorship, esp with the Darkling returned) will be eliminated. ...Or so I hope, since it has been alluded to in KoS.

But that poses many problems. With no one line for the throne, let alone with a crime so dark like a blot on Nikolai’s skill (of taking the Darkling’s help), it is possible that Ravka will shun it, right alongside being torn about it because Nikolai has been, for the best of his ability, a good King. All of this in line with the Resistance rising in West Ravka.

This ties in with the court matters, especially if I want to hold the further points I make true. The resolution to acquit Nikolai of his charges requires a testification forth a jury which will then make a decision about his motives and future.

Zoya as the Interim Head.

After all of this, Zoya’s point about Ravka not accepting a Grisha Queen will be true after all, because there will be no monarchy to welcome such an arrangement.

But Ravka will need a good and trustworthy leader despite Grisha powers and Zoya is the best person to take care of that. The comment “...becoming a steady leader...” and the “Welcome home, Commander,” were there in KoS for a reason (and this is what I think it will link to).

That being said, there’s more nuance to this than my summary. Zoya is a character of colour. That—in addition to the already existing threats, objections and possible question of capability in the position—ill play into how she will be able to discharge her responsibility. It’s not going to be convenient.

EDIT: taken from a reblog/addition to the og post:

A smoother/more structured transition

Once after the monarchy collapses and a leader must be chosen, it will not be Nikolai. Nor will it be Zoya, though she might serve as an interim head. What I assume might be possible is that someone older is chosen, someone older and loyal and with the proof of knowledge and service to the country. Possibly by majority vote or elected by a council.

Instead of the sudden change, this can be a smoother (if that can even be said about such a major political scenario change) or more structured. I also say this because a. if Nikolai is indeed charged (and later acquitted), firstly his political career will already hold a blot if the word about using the Darkling as a resource is out and secondly, he’s way too young to serve as the leader (by modern standards, sure, but like, the required age will be set while drafting the constitution? currently its 35+).

Instead, the current cast can become representatives (which Zoya would already be, (mostly the head of the) international committee that safeguards the Grisha all over the world) and the Triumvirate will be dissolved. (it should be, tbh)

And hey, b. after all of this, they can and kind of need to take a step back. Nikolai and Zoya will be able to truly explore their relationship, given how Nikolai mentions how he wouldn’t marry unless he’d have had the chance to court someone and marry someone he barely knows nor knows him. For Zoya’s part, she does know Nikolai but surely probably not the extent of openness that a healthy relationship has, and on Nikolai’s part, he admits he barely knows her beyond as a General except for just little things about her.

They could be able to realize and work on their feelings while alongside being involved with the workings of the country and the constitution.

“One day you will overstep and I will not be so forgiving.”

Need I say more? Something that Zoya does will cost her Nikolai’s goodwill and we know Zoya knows her practicality and the extent to which she will unapologetically move if there is threat to the country and its King. She will do what was right and required.

A major part of that line ties in with Magnus Opjer and I think with the confidence in the versatility of her powers, Zoya might as well move w/o any word to the Triumvirate to eliminate the most direct threat to the throne. This will bring splits in Nikolai and Zoya’s relationship.

How this tension between them will be resolved without compromising either of their values, without playing into fandom stereotypes and others must be carefully handled. All of this while showing the best of their dynamicity, practicality and priority as they carefully pull out just those weak sticks of the jenga without putting the whole country into trouble. And with a war in plain sight, they’d know better than pointlessly argue and would rather see how the two of them are wrong. This ordeal will bring out just how condensed power is in the current scenario, imo.

Importance on the way women have shaped history.

Something that KoS has already set precedence for. Zoya being a PoC, Nina taking into account of the sufferings of women she comes across and the consistent ‘Who will remember them?’ will be elaborated on further. As for how it is done and how well it is done, that remains to be seen.

Baghra is alive but maybe not thriving bc she’s stuck in the Ice Court.

They entered a chamber where an old woman sat with her hands chained, flanked by guards. Her eyes were vacant. As each prisoner approached, the woman gripped his or her wrist.

A human amplifier. [...] But the Fjerdans used them for a different purpose – to make sure no Grisha breached their walls without being identified.

Kaz watched Nina approach. He could see her trembling as she held out her arm. The woman clamped her fingers around Nina’s wrist. Her eyelids stuttered briefly. Then she dropped Nina’s hand and waved her along.

Had she known and not cared? Or had the paraffin they’d used to encase Nina’s forearms worked?

- Chapter 22. Kaz; Part 4: Trick to Falling, Six of Crows.

Nina will be the one to free her and together they might wage a war from Djerholm together.

This gets even more interesting because we know the anguish and scorn that Baghra feels for her son at the same time; she understands the wrongness that he used to seek and will continue to. Zoya does take Baghra’s name at the Fold when she mourns and rages over how people forget the destruction and most importantly, forget the women. Baghra could be the symbol of the stag as the art piece depicts, or will be shown with relation to the Darkling’s powers.

As for how she will play into the story, perhaps she will be the one to help reverse and find the roots of the orders, in the sense that changes the perception of the Grisha powers for the Grisha as well as the common folk of Ravka. She is the only other person other than Juris and the Darkling to have the age of eras together, knowing Ilya Morozova, and she will be instrumental in giving Ravka an advantage over Fjerda. Either that or she will help in scrubbing the prejudices of Fjerda slowly away with whatever powers she has left. Or both.

Alina will reappear, but will not contribute to the plot significantly.

Zoya understands that the truth she knows about the Darkling is very minimal not enough to end him for once and for all. It makes sense that she will probably consult Alina for it. So, Malina appearance, possibly at the orphanage. Alina will not directly contribute to this war, but she will play a critical role in defeating the Darkling.

Besides, Alina —and Baghra— are the only ones who know that there has only ever been two Darklings. Zoya did sense, multiple times during KoS, that the Darkling is damn old. Yuri mentions it. And while it is not outright specified, the fact that Zoya thinks that she realizes just how ancient Lizabetha is in context of meeting the Darkling is enough proof for her to seek more information about the age and the older skill of the Darkling.

And I think it goes without saying that I want to hope that the Darkling and Alina will not meet. Pls, she’s had enough.

Lada is the lost, other friend that Zoya refuses to bury.

“She saw her mentor die and her worst enemy resurrected, and she refuses to bury another friend.”

Liliyana is dead, we know. But there’s no other mention of Lada except for the “wondering what happened to the pug faced girl.” Lada is possibly a part of the group of women and a Grisha returning to Ravka from Fjerda, exploited by the parem. She might die being unable to withhold the sheer torment of the parem induction, which will devastate Zoya because Lada was also the closest she’s had to a family with Liliyana.

Either that or Lada is already dead or dies some other way, and Zoya cannot bring herself bear the grief of losing her.

Cameos: Inej and Jesper.

The most likely of the crows to appear in RoW are Inej and Jesper and they’ll play equally important roles in the plotline. Here’s a breakdown of why:

Inej

Inej has taken the responsibility of becoming a slave hunter, and it makes sense for Inej to make an appearance in the book, given that there’s going to be a ship taking the Grisha from Fjerda to Ravka.

The women aboard are vulnerable and require immediate attention, which Inej will immediately zero in on. She will have enough reason to suspect both Leoni and Adrik on the ship, especially when the jurda parem is still a secret. Leoni and Adrik cannot give that information away because they don’t trust Inej (and have no reason to either). Inej won’t trust them either, not until she understands that the reason why the women are being taken to Ravka and for what reasons.

Which gives her excellent reason to step in, try to analyze the situation and help the women accordingly.

Here’s an exciting thought though. Once after the entire misunderstanding is overcome and Inej understands (esp. if Nina is brought into the conversation and security and secrecy of the conversation is ensured), there may be discussion about how the Grisha might find a safer space in Ravka.

Inej’s appearance might also extend to playing a pivotal role in giving Zoya the confidence to seek her heritage and where she hails from, to embrace the part of her past and forgive herself and others for her mistakes.

ALSO,

Grisha finding a safer space in Ravka will mean that Inej can pitch Jesper’s case for him to Zoya. Being the highest authority who takes cares of the responsibilities of the Grisha, Zoya will be the best person to talk about this with.

And so, here comes Jesper.

Jesper

For one, I wish Jesper and Leoni interact, talk and just bond like the iconic siblings they would be. <3 But more than that, Jesper plays very integral to the plot for more reasons.

Jesper’s arc will parallel Zoya’s. Both of them are new to their powers in their own individual sense; Zoya is trying to use her new powers in a way that hasn’t been done before, thereby breaking the Grisha orders of powers and Jesper (assuming he has decided that he might want to learn and embrace his Grisha powers) is learning them afresh.

This journey of them trying to embrace, learn and relearn and reject older norms and experiment really work in tandem.

That will lead us to a further (plot) theories.

Ties with Novyi Zem

As of the KoS end, Ravka has no support from anyone atm. Sure the Kerch will provide funds but Ravka has no real allies. Here’s where Novyi Zem and Jesper come in.

We know Novyi Zem is a new country and also that it is the second safest country for the Grisha in the universe. As of KoS, their agreements are not renewed and they would be since between Kerch and Novyi Zem, Ravka was forced to pick Kerch. Yet Ravka needs their help in acquiring jurda for the antidote.

So here’s the deal: Ravka will get their jurda but at many conditions that the Novyi Zem will impose on Ravka to not let exploitation get in the way.

The conditions imposed could be (these are just some at the top of my head but I hope there are more to ensure the safety and security of the Zemeni, in Novyi Zem and in Ravka too) :

Naval support from Ravka

We know of the Zemeni ships and ofc Nikolai has been hard at work trying to develop plans to use the sea to its fullest advantage. While the news of the izmars’ya isn’t public, Zemeni can place a condition for technical aid from Ravka since Ravka does have the technical knowledge it can dispatch as a condition.

A Grisha School in Novyi Zem

Think about it. Ravka, despite being the safest place for the Grisha, still isn’t entirely safe. Not all Grisha become soldiers in Ravka, they have a choice to abstain but those who are training are still recruited a honed for purpose alike preparing for war, especially the teens and preteens from the time of the Civil War. The training does take a lot of time. Ravka intends to make a home first and then service, but at the moment, while the Grisha are provided safety, it’s not assured in the best sense. Both the facts about a home and service are in precarious positions atm.

TL;DR: Ravka isn’t entirely safe for Grisha therefore the Grisha themselves too are not + Ravka is war torn.

So what happens?

One of the conditions as the next best country that serves as home to the Grisha, Novyi Zem may put forth the prospect of building a Little Palace like institution for the Grisha in Novyi Zem. It sounds morally wrong in the sense that the Grisha there will also be trained for war, but the war will end and soon, the Grisha will not be subject to serve for something but engage in economic activities as anybody else with the progression of time.

All of this won’t happen immediately either; learning their powers, honing it in the way that is unocnventional from what it had been pre-RoW and that transition + the building of the establishment in Novyi Zem and laying foundation for the transnational panel or committee for Grisha that Zoya talks about will all take so much time.

A few Grisha representatives from Novyi Zem can learn at the Little Palace and by the time the construction of the institution is done in Novyi Zem, these Grisha, along with other willing Grisha who either want to return to the country they were born in (like Leoni) or are offered to teach in a different country can do so too.

There will be stricter terms so as to not ensure exploitation and possible colonization in these nations.

Zoya mentions in one of her chapters that eventually there will be a need for the a transnational panel or committee for Grisha. Jesper can Zoya can make it possible, adding in other countries to the panel slowly as the war recedes.

Kaz and Wylan?

Least likely to make an appearance, in my opinion. I think they’ll be mentioned plenty of times or brought up once and given great importance for how they can help in the side plot.

Shu Support:

This is more a hope than an actually theory dfbkdhjadfh but Makhi might have to step down from the throne because Ehri will take the place; either as a Queen (no...) or she might oversee the process of strengthening Shu Han and finding a leader (if she doesn’t want to become one herself).

Ehri is capable, more than capable despite the little we know of her from the last chapter in KoS. All I hope is for an understanding and friendship between Nikolai and Ehri (and the subsequent cancelling of the marriage duH) for this to happen. She has little interest in statecraft but with the time she might spend with Nikolai, she might change her views. Even if not then she still gets the happy ending she deserves with Mayu (which is canon at this point rly).

Emotional Development or Breakdowns

Okay but I really, really, really hope we get to see all the three protagonists lose their shit and deal with their trauma, seek help or trying to stop isolating themselves or anything else they do to cope? Nina, Zoya and Nikolai, all of them cry, all of them get to completely lose it, let themselves be human and healthily cope and learn to rely on the people they trust the most. Like the sheer power and potential to show the myriad of ways to deal with grief, sadness, stress and more and make use of the trio’s backgrounds to show healthy and diverse ways of helping themselves, by letting themselves and others help them is just *combusts* Incredible!

That being said, can I also ask for moments of fear and desolation from the side characters too? Impending war isn’t small business, it will take its toll on people, and all these reactions just cement their fears and what they value the most so. pls. Humanizing them rly.

The Saving Each Other

As much as I mostly kinda hate this trope, there are traces in the KoS that Zoya might be the one to end Nikolai’s affliction. On the other hand, there is talk of Nikolai helping Zoya control her powers which seems counterintuitive when you consider that Zoya knows that there is a line that she must never cross and that she is very, very careful about it and will continue to be.

They can instead be the ones who motivate each other in times of distress as they always do (as shown with how Nikolai tries to gain control over his monster during the burning thorn ritual in KoS, allowing himself the vulnerability but also knowing that giving up will be unforgivable to both himself and Zoya as well) but I seriously do not wish for each other to be the ones directly ending one another's misery. Or perhaps this is just a fear imo that Leigh wouldn’t even take the route of (in which case, thank fuck).

Stab Stab Stab

Zoya gets the chance to kill the Darkling with the rest of her friends. After all, Darkling does call them all his old friends. Just Julius Caeser him all the way and put a bow tie on the book. *chef’s kiss* Everybody deserves a second chance... at ending a tyrant when it fails the first time.

So far, this is it. Rule of Wolves is in less than a few weeks and im- asdfghjkl. not Ready. i’m more Worried than Ready.

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makeste · 4 years ago

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I really liked this newest chapter. But the question that remains is that even if Deku is somehow able to save Tomura, won't the population want to seek vengeance on Tomura? i always found this to be one of the most despicable parts of AFO's design because even if Tomura had somehow realized how destructive his path is and how he's been manipulated, I don't see how he could turn back. He was a wanted terrorist since USJ and his body count has just been growing.

okay so first off, Tomura has become one of my favorite characters and so I have a very forgiving outlook toward him. but I also understand that like it or not, the damage has already been done, and there are obviously going to be serious consequences for destroying a city and murdering countless people (on top of all the other things he’s done already). obviously he’s not going to get off scot free for all of that, nor should he.

on the other hand, here’s the dilemma for me. I firmly believe in people taking responsibility for their actions, but Tomura’s case presents a quandary, because when someone’s choices are being manipulated by another party, are they really still their choices? is it still free will when every decision you think you’re making is in reality being directed by someone else’s hand as surely as a piece on a chessboard? or the player character in a video game? and it’s been that way since you were a child?

to put this another way, someone needs to be held accountable here, but I’m not convinced it’s him. like, this goes beyond even the “I was just following orders” argument, because Tomura was literally groomed since childhood to ensure that he would never do anything but follow those orders. in fact, he’s been groomed to the extent where he believes this is truly what he wants. but the reality of it is that literally everything Tomura is and everything he’s ever done is because of AFO’s direct interference.

AFO killed Nana and targeted her family, which directly led to Kotarou’s trauma, which resulted in him becoming a shitty abusive dad because no one in the BnHA universe ever goes to therapy

AFO almost certainly gave Tenko the Decay quirk (I have another post in the works about this so I won’t go into lengthy detail right now. but in my mind this is almost a certainty)

AFO also most likely interfered to prevent anyone else from coming to Tenko’s rescue before him (you won’t convince me that this was just a coincidence)

AFO literally forced Tenko to hold onto his pain and anguish and trauma, adorned him in his own dead family’s body parts, and gaslit him into believing that he had an uncontrollable urge to destroy things and kill people

lastly, AFO expertly manipulated Tenko into believing that hero society was to blame for all of his suffering, when in reality every single trauma that he’s experienced can be directly traced back to AFO

basically this kid was targeted and kidnapped and forced to become a murderer. there’s no other way to put it imo. his life was completely destroyed. and so as far as I’m concerned, the story’s ending can’t be completely satisfying unless Tomura/Tenko, as the person who’s actually suffered the most because of AFO, also gets some kind of justice for what happened to him.

and him going to jail for life, or being executed or whatever, just doesn’t feel like justice to me in this case. hence my dilemma. because the people that Tomura has hurt and killed deserve justice too. so there’s the conundrum -- we have a murderer who’s also a victim. so no matter what happens in the end, someone (read: Tomura) is either going to get off easy, or receive a punishment that they haven’t fully earned.

basically there is no perfect happy ending here. but once we accept that, there are a few “good” endings which I could see playing out. one is the Darth Vader Ending, in which Tomura turns on AFO (the fact that he still doesn’t know the extent of AFO’s involvement in his dead family extravaganza is a huge factor in his potential redemption, imo -- if/when he finds out, that will probably be the moment of truth), and battles him alongside Deku, possibly sacrificing his life to help finally defeat AFO for good. his crimes are atoned for by his death, he breaks free of AFO’s will, and he’s ultimately granted peace of a sort. on the other hand, that ending is also tragic af and I kind of hate it, ngl. AFO tortures him his whole life and then he fucking dies -- that’s one hell of a “sucks to be you” storyline for such an important character.

another possibility is an ending where, after Tomura switches sides and helps defeat AFO, Deku and a few of the others “accidentally” let him and the rest of the LoV escape. very unfortunate. we turned our back for two seconds and they managed to give us the slip. we’re very sorry, you know how it is, etc. etc. this would be the Indulgent Ending, so named because it’s extremely unrealistic, and also everything I want. it basically consists of everyone living happily ever after because I want them to, goddammit. basically Tomura and the League ride off in the sunset to lead a life of harmless crime, and also Tomura gets another dog, just because. as for Tomura’s victims, they get their justice with AFO’s death, without Tenko having to be sacrificed as yet another victim.

and lastly, there’s always the possibility of a Downer Ending in which it turns out Tomura really is too far gone and can’t be saved. Deku still defeats AFO, but Tomura dies having never broken free of AFO’s control. I would absolutely hate this ending, as it is in no way satisfactory and basically constitutes a victory for AFO, since it would mean his philosophy triumphing over his brother’s. fortunately, this is also the least likely ending imo, because it would go against the very core of the story. as the First put it, “get it, Brother? the villain... always loses in the end.” otherwise what the hell has this all even been for?

anyway, so those are some of my thoughts. it is a very complicated situation, and in the end I’ll probably accept just about any kind of ending except for that last one that I mentioned. but I’m with Deku on this one.

#bnha 305 #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #all for one #bnha meta #tomura meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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How about a canon divergence where wen qing doesn't bump into wwx but instead bumps into nhs and nmj. Would it be a tragedy or a fixit? Would nhs temper nmj's hatred for wens? Would nmj act honorably at seeing the old men and women and children doing hard labor or would he only see the clan he hates?

It was Nie Huaisang’s fault, probably. Someone tripped over someone else’s feet, and then he apologized and she apologized and then they both apologized, and then there was the whole “you go first, no you go first” dance and anyway eventually Nie Mingjue stormed over to yell at his younger brother for wasting time. He took one look at the ash-faced girl, caught her by the shoulder and said, “Aren’t you that Wen Qing? I used to see you at discussion conferences – what are you doing here?”

The whites of her eyes showed in her terror, and he scowled fiercely. “I don’t slay unarmed women or children outside of combat,” he said. “The question was literal – what are you doing here? The Jin sect said they resettled the remnants of the sects somewhere they wouldn’t make trouble.”

Wen Qing pressed her lips together, then couldn’t help herself and snarled, “If you call hard labor camps where everyone dies ‘resettled’ – they took away my baby brother! They took me to another city, I didn’t want to leave him, but I didn’t have a choice and when I returned…my brother’s as soft as yours – they’re going to kill him!”

Nie Mingjue’s scowl deepened, and his eyes flickered over to Nie Huaisang, the words ‘hard labor’ clearly ringing through his mind and struggling with his deep and abiding hatred for the Wen sect, the memories of Nie Huaisang being snatched away from him and sent to an indoctrination camp to be used as live bait. The very reminder of it made his face black in anger.

Nie Huaisang looked between the two of them and covered his face with a fan. “Dage,” he said, and his voice helped break through the haze of anger. “Maybe we should – check?”

It’s not like we trust the Jins, given the way they want to be the next Wens, he meant, and maybe there’s a little bit of Isn’t our sect’s guiding principle to stamp out evil wherever it’s encountered, human or not?

“Sect Leader Nie, I demand an explanation!” Jin Guangshan shouted. “You cannot barge into my territory, threaten my sect’s disciples, take away the prisoners won at war –”

“I’m not so blind as to tell the difference between captivity and torture unto death,” Nie Mingjue snarled in return, not even slightly moved. “Not only did I take the prisoners from Qiongqi Path, I demand you turn over every other one you have, no matter where –”

“Those were legitimately captured prisoners of war! We took them instead of spoils –”

“If the allocation of every penny matters so much to you, you may have the spoils seized by my Nie sect in exchange,” Nie Mingjue said, flicking his sleeve disdainfully. It couldn’t be more obvious what his implication was: that the Jin sect, despite all its riches, cared more for money than for honor.

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrowed. “It’s most unlike you to get up in arms defending Wens, Sect Leader Nie; wasn’t it just yesterday that you called them all Wen-dogs and sought their utter destruction?”

Nie Mingjue sneered at him, but he continued, oily smile spreading on his face like a stain, “It couldn’t be that Sect Leader Nie has changed his implacable mind so quickly – perhaps it is the pressure of war on a man so young…you should take care for your health, make sure you’re not being unduly confused. People in your family die so very young, after all.”

“Enough nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said, eyes very nearly red in anger. “If my mind is so unclear, why did you choose to follow me during battle? When Wen Ruohan threatened, you dithered and delayed, and when there was no other choice but war, my blade was strong enough for you to hide behind, but when we have peace you rush to the front to claim a position that shouldn’t even exist – no one should be Chief Cultivator, Sect Leader Jin, no sect placing themselves and their own interests above another’s! But if the alternative is you, perhaps I should strive for it after all!”

“Is your brother actually going to try to be Chief Cultivator?” Wen Ning asked Nie Huaisang shyly; he was the only Wen currently inside the Unclean Realm, on account of needing heal his injuries. The remainder were all living in a small valley not far away where Nie sect cultivators kept a close watch.

Nie Mingjue hated injustice above all else, even Wens, but only by the smallest margin; in their new homes they were given food and water and medicine, but not freedom. Too many cultivators, male or female, had hidden themselves among the helpless to launch sneak attacks and assassinations; even children could carry a knife and swear to avenge their fallen parents.

Those like Wen Qing were watched most of all – she led one of the Supervision Offices that everyone had so hated, and she did nothing to stop them; she was indifferent to evil, and to Nie Mingjue that was very nearly the same as evil. It was only that the war had been officially ended that held back his hand; if they had still been at war, he would have executed her without so much as blinking an eye.

Still, Wen Qing had told Wen Ning that she was pleased with their current situation. A true prisoner of war camp, however strict, meant that they would be kept safe from all those who sought personal revenge, and Wen Ning couldn’t help but agree that the trade was worthwhile. The Jin had all but sold opportunities to those who wanted to get in a kick at their fallen bodies, just to say they’d been involved in the Sunshot Campaign; the Nie sect had those types of people, too, glaring and hateful, but the Sect Leader’s military discipline made them too afraid to do anything more than raise angry voices – and what were angry voices, compared to angry hands?

After all, if they’d come even a few shichen later – if Nie Mingjue hadn’t already known where the Wens were being kept, due to his position as sect leader, and been able to fly there on his sword at full speed – it would have been too late for him. Wen Ning didn’t even recall exactly what had happened, but two of them had been beating him and the chief inspector hadn’t stopped them, only told them to be sure to throw his body over the cliff when they were done with him…

“No, of course not,” Nie Huaisang said, pretending to be busy by his side. He had no skill at medicine, but it was a way to spend his time that his brother approved of and wouldn’t interrupt, so he came as often as he could. “He hates the idea, thinks it’s rotten to the core – like we’re all a bunch of sheep, needing a shepherd. No, he’s just saying it to annoy and distract Jin Guangshan. Besides, imagine if they made the position inheritable; that would make me the next one, and wouldn’t that be terrible for everyone?”

“The children young enough not to remember may join the Nie sect as guest disciples, if they wish,” Nie Mingjue said, his tone brooking no argument. “The adults will remain as they are.”

Wen Qing crossed her arms. “There aren’t many cultivators left among us, and it’s fine for all of those - they’d be happy to take up a life farming,” she said. “But those of us who are already on the path of cultivation should not be stymied –”

“You mean your brother, Wen Ning.” Nie Mingjue had some natural sympathy for her position, due to having his own weak-willed younger brother, but not very much. “No. In the end, he’s a Wen; we will not raise snakes to bite us later.”

“What wrong can you put on my brother’s shoulders beyond his surname?” she challenged. “What evil does he have?”

“Indifference to evil –”

“He was hardly indifferent!” she snapped, pushed beyond her limits. “I told him to do nothing, me, and yet he wouldn’t listen, time and time again. He kept Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng hidden after the destruction of the Lotus Pier, smuggled the latter out, even carried him out on his own back, and if that wasn’t enough, he collected what he could of the Jiang masters’ ashes for them – later, when Wei Wuxian asked me for help, he even –!”

She suddenly seemed to realize she’d said too much and shut her mouth.

Nie Mingjue looked at her thoughtfully. “You’ve already said this much,” he said. “There’s no point in stopping now. What did Wei Wuxian ask you to do?”

“Shh, don’t tell anyone I’m here,” Nie Huaisang said, gesturing for Wen Ning to join him in the closet where he was hiding.

Wen Ning, still a little uncomfortable in his new Nie robes, confusedly obeyed, even though he was still sweating from saber practice – he’d had to start over, alongside the children, but to his surprise he’d found that the straightforward brutality of the saber suited some secret resentful part hidden inside of him that wanted nothing more than to chop up everything he saw. “W-what’s going on? Why are we h-hiding? We’re in the Unclean Realm. What can harm us here?”

“Feelings,” Nie Huaisang said. “They’re the worst. My poor brother has to sit out there and listen to it directly, too – the burdens of being Sect Leader. I’m glad it’s not me.”

Wen Ning blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Are Wei-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi still fighting?”

“No, they’ve moved on to crying.”

“They were crying while they were fighting.”

“Yes, well, now they’ve moved to the just crying stage. There’s been lots of hugging, too; they stop for half a breath and then set each other off again, it’s awful. Can’t they be all manly and stoic like we Nie?”

Wen Ning gave Nie Huaisang a doubtful look.

“Well, me excluded, of course,” Nie Huaisang said with a laugh and a wave of his hand. “And anyway, even I only like crying when it’s going to get me something. Or out of something!”

Wen Ning suddenly felt as if he understood much more about his new Sect Leader’s endless frustrations with his younger brother. “But why are you hiding?” he asked.

“I have a reputation of avoiding work to maintain,” Nie Huaisang said, totally puzzlingly, but a few moments later there was a knock at the closet door.

“Huaisang, I know you’re in there. Get out of there and have an emergency,” Sect Leader Nie said. “Anything, as long as it requires my personal attention, and have it happen as soon as their sister, the young madam Jin, arrives – that’ll just set them all off again, especially as she’s pregnant.” A pause. “Do you think I can order Wen Qing to handle this as part of the terms of her parole?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen qing #wen ning #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

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dwellordream · 3 years ago

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“…If the crusades were primarily military expeditions, and women were not expected to fight, we might first ask why they were present in significant numbers. What motivated their involvement? The answer to this question is not easily discernable since there were women from all classes of society present on crusade. Moreover, historians have no way of knowing for sure how many women and other non-combatants actually left with the crusading armies. The sheer length and size of many campaigns meant that for any medieval army to function effectively, it required many non-combatants – engineers, bakers, artisans, tailors, squires, prostitutes and so on – in addition to the presence of fighting men and their commanders.

Numerous women formed a part of this retinue; however, the vast majority of women were poor and, in comparison to the knights, foot soldiers and other male warriors who set out alongside them, militarily unsuited to the task of conquering the Holy Land. Many of these women came alone or unmarried, while others had left their homes to come on crusade with their whole family in search of a better life, no doubt influenced to some extent by the enthusiasm and excitement which greeted the whole concept of a holy war. Other factors probably also influenced their decisions to leave for with the crusade army. The fact that certain celestial phenomenon such as aurora and comet sightings around the time that the First Crusade was being preached auspiciously coincided with the end of a long French drought in 1096 may have prompted some women to leave with the crusade army, although it is hard to know for certain.

Moreover, there is also the possibility that, for those who wished to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the prospect of travelling with an armed force who could protect them all the way appealed to unarmed female (and male) pilgrims. One eyewitness to the preparations for the First Crusade, Bernold of Constance, even recorded that ‘innumerable’ numbers of women disguised themselves in men’s clothing, possibly because they wished to actually take up arms against the enemy. This suggestion is supported by the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, which asserted that ‘women and children’ were amongst those who ‘wanted to war against heathen nations’. Furthermore, we cannot discount the spiritual incentive of simply going to the Holy Land, which undoubtedly would have also helped motivate the masses of men and women to leave on crusade.

In some cases noblewomen also left on crusade, usually in the company of their husbands or other male relatives. Eleanor of Aquitaine, Marie of Champagne, Marguerite of Provence and Eleanor of Castile are all well-known examples of women who followed their husbands on crusade to the Holy Land. Once again though, the motivations for noblewomen who went on crusade are not easily ascertained, although the length of the crusade expeditions (which could last for years) probably had something to do with it, especially for couples who wanted to stay together. Other women appear to have acted fairly independently: around the time of the First Crusade, Emerias of Altejas took the cross by herself, but was persuaded by the bishop of Toulouse to endow a monastery instead of leaving for Jerusalem.

Alice, countess of Brittany, took a crusade vow in the 1260s, and, after her husband died in 1279 without fulfilling his vows, left for the East – specifically the city of Acre – in the late 1280s. On a broader scale, Kedar has drawn attention to an extant passenger list of a crusader ship in the mid-thirteenth century that had 453 passengers on board, forty-two of which were women, and of these women twenty- two were travelling with no male companion. Whatever their motivation, the fact that certain lords and their wives had to consider such decisions at all helped differentiate the crusades from other, more localised military escapades fought on a smaller scale that did not involve the same prospect of spiritual reward or the same possibility for material gain (at least early on) in the form of land.

Clearly, then, there were women from a range of different backgrounds present on crusade, for a variety of different reasons. The support which they rendered to the fighting men, however, was primarily indirect and auxiliary regardless of their social rank, and included such tasks as washing, cleaning clothes, cooking, gathering supplies – even picking lice and fleas off the men’s bodies. They might also provide comfort to the men (through prostitution), or when new territory was conquered they could assist with and become a part of settlement plans within that territory. In another sense, however, women could provide spiritual support for the men, encouraging them whilst they fought and praying for God’s favour.

The medieval poet Baldric of Dol, for instance, in his account of the First Crusade, noted that women and other non-combatants were an integral part of the spiritual side of the crusade and prayed for the men whilst they were fighting. Although this may not sound like a particularly useful form of ‘support’ to those living in the twenty-first century, spiritual supplication was still important since the crusades were a holy war and it was believed that God was on their side. Prayer thus helped ensure God’s favour and consequently the likelihood of military success.

The provision of supplies to the fighting men, most notably water, was another basic but essential form of support women rendered to men on crusade. Describing the female presence at the battle of Dorylaeum, one anonymous chronicler at the scene notes how ‘[t]he women in our camp were a great help to us that day, for they brought up water for the fighting men to drink, and gallantly encouraged those who were fighting and defending them’. Likewise Margaret of Beverly, whose brother recorded her experiences in the Holy Land around the time of the Third Crusade, recounted how she put a pot on her head for protection and brought water to the men on the walls during Saladin’s siege of Jerusalem, being injured in the process by an enemy projectile.

Oliver of Paderborn, whose account of the Fifth Crusade is one of the most detailed and important sources available, also recalled a similar form of female support during the crusaders’ attack on Damietta in Egypt, when he mentions that ‘the women fearlessly brought water and stones, wine and bread to the warriors’. Not long afterwards, during a skirmish between crusaders and Saracens at a castle south of Damietta, he mentions women carrying and distributing water to clerics and foot-soldiers.

The Fifth Crusade also offers examples of how women might assist an army with other supplies besides water. Powell has documented how women were said to have helped grind corn for the Christian army whilst it was besieging Damietta, how they were in charge of the markets selling fish and vegetables to the crusaders, and how they helped attend to the sick and needy. Most notably, Powell notes that women even acted as guards in the crusade camp and were assigned with weapons to prevent desertions and maintain order while the army prepared for a fresh attack against the city.

Joinville too, in his chronicle of the Seventh Crusade, described women who ‘sold provisions’ raising a cry of alarm when the Count of Poitiers was captured at the battle of Mansourah (February 1250). These examples suggest that women could be of definite help on a military expedition, and whilst we should not generalise and assume that women fulfilled the same logistical roles in every crusade or medieval military campaign, it is important to be aware of the different ways they might have rendered basic support and provisions to armies on campaign.

At the same time, however, women sometimes did become much more involved with military actions and appear to have actually used weapons themselves on the enemy, though not specifically in hand-to-hand combat. During the second siege of Toulouse in 1218, for instance, women from within the city supposedly operated the mangonel or perrière (a stone-throwing device) that killed Simon de Montfort, leader of the Albigensian Crusade, just as a Frankish woman ‘shooting from the citadel’ with a mangonel was said to have destroyed the Muslims’ mangonel at Saladin’s siege of Burzay in 1188.

Acting in a similarly defensive manner were the women who helped repel the French attack during the siege of Hennebont in 1342 by throwing stones and pots of chalk from the walls onto the enemy at the urging of Jeanne de Montfort. Likewise, in 1358 women also played an important role in defending the French township of Senlis from an attack by French nobles during the short-lived but violent peasant uprising known as the ‘Jacquerie’. In this case, the townsfolk were forewarned of the attack and had their women stationed at windows ‘to pour great quantities of boiling water down upon the enemy’ while their men-folk fought off the attackers.

…Nevertheless, there are accounts of women who dressed in armour and who may have physically fought the enemy. In studying the evidence available, though, we must be very careful in accounting for possible bias in the sources, particularly in accounts where the author’s ulterior motive may have been to portray the enemy in an unfavourable light and especially when it comes to descriptions of actual female combatants. Hence we must treat as suspicious a passage by the Byzantine chronicler, Niketas Choniatēs, about mounted women bearing ‘lances and weapons’ and dressed in ‘masculine garb...more mannish than the Amazons’ on the Second Crusade. According to the modern translator, this passage was assumed by Steven Runciman to refer to Eleanor of Aquitaine and her retinue, despite the fact that her name was not specifically mentioned. While Eleanor was indeed present on this crusade, the passage makes more sense, however, if it is understood as an attempt to criticise the Franks as uncivilised and even barbaric compared to the Greeks, because they allowed their women to don armour and unnaturally fight as warriors.

In the same way, Muslim chroniclers’ descriptions of Frankish women who supposedly dressed up and rode into battle at the siege of Acre ‘as brave men though they were but tender women’, and who were subsequently ‘not recognised as women until they had been stripped of their arms’ – as well as another Muslim account of a Frankish noblewoman who allegedly fought at Acre alongside 500 of her own knights – must be treated with caution. As Nicholson has noted, for both Christians and Muslims ‘it was expected that good, virtuous women would not normally fight...in a civilised, godly society’. By depicting Frankish women as warriors, therefore, the Muslim chroniclers could illustrate the barbarous and heathen nature of Christian society and contrast it with the properly ordered Muslim society where women knew their place. Thus, while we cannot rule out the possibility that some women at Acre may have actually dressed up and fought, the Muslim accounts are certainly questionable.

Likewise, other accounts of female combatants and women in armour that do not appear to be influenced directly by religious bias must still be carefully evaluated. In France, Orderic Vitalis recorded how Isabel of Conches rode ‘armed as a knight among the knights’ during a conflict in 1090 between her husband, Ralph of Conches, and Count William of Évreux. Although Orderic remarked on her courage among the knights, he says nothing about her subsequent actions, and thus we have no way of knowing if she actually fought. In a similar vein, the English chronicler Jordan Fantosme, writing primarily of the rebellion against Henry II by his son Henry ‘the Young King’ in 1173-1174, asserted that the earl of Leicester had his wife, Petronella, countess of Leicester, dressed up in armour and given a shield and lance before the battle of Fornham in October 1173.

According to Fantosme, Petronella encouraged the earl to fight the English, but fled from the battle while it was in progress and then fell into a ditch where she nearly drowned. Fantosme, however, was the only chronicler to describe Petronella’s martial deeds, and Johns has argued that he was clearly trying to portray Petronella in an unsympathetic way in order to emphasise that women should not be involved in military affairs. Fantosme wrote to entertain, but also to instruct moral lessons and highlight divine law; Petronella thus served as an example against women’s involvement in war and the follies of accepting female advice. Nevertheless, Petronella must have been present or involved in some way since other sources do mention that she was captured after the battle along with the earl and that she was present with him on campaign in England.

Further afield, in the Holy Land, William of Tyre contended that in the first crusade army’s excitement at the imminent capture of Jerusalem ‘even women, regardless of their sex and natural weakness, dared to assume arms and fought manfully far beyond their strength’. His account, however, cannot be verified as no eyewitness accounts of this siege actually describe women acting in such a manner. Likewise, although the memoirs of the twelfth century Muslim nobleman Usāmah Ibn-Munqidh mention several female combatants – a female Muslim slave who rushed into battle ‘sword in hand’; a Frankish women who used a jar to try and help fend off an attack on Frankish pilgrims; a Muslim woman in Shayzar who captured and had killed three Frankish men – it is important to be aware that Usāmah was recalling these anecdotes sixty years after they supposedly took place.

…It is because of this need for more defenders that other accounts of female combatants may be considered more reliable. For, even though Muslim writers are our source for the story of a female archer at Acre who, in defending the city, ‘wounded many Muslims before she was overcome and killed’, it is quite possible that in the heat of battle, when manpower was necessary to fight off attackers, this woman was forced to draw a bow. Equally plausible are these same Muslim writers’ astonishment at finding women amongst the dead on the battlefield after a failed Christian attack on Saladin’s camp, though this revelation does not tell us that these women actually fought.

Then there is the case of Christian women who executed the crew of a captured Turkish ship at Acre. According to the Itinerarium Peregrinorum, ‘the women’s physical weakness prolonged the pain of death, because they cut their heads off with knives instead of swords’. Again, although the women were not actually fighting in battle, it is quite possible that this event did occur given that the men had been defeated already and the women were perhaps motivated by thoughts of revenge. As Evans points out, the passage still displays ‘a gendered approach to weaponry’ in that the Muslims’ death at the hands of women is emphasised as ‘humiliating’ and reference made to women’s weakness – implying that the women were acting in an unnatural way.”

- James Michael Illston, ‘An Entirely Masculine Activity’? Women and War in the High and Late Middle Ages Reconsidered

#history #james michael illston #warfare #crusades #high middle ages #late middle ages #medieval

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jarofstyles · 4 years ago

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Fan Club

A/N: This story.... it’s very near and dear to our hearts. We have a total of 7 parts written, 80k words total. It is our take on the PR relationship trope, mixed with Harry gets with a fan trope. It’s full of angst, full of sweet moments and smutty moments alike. We LOVE these two, they are quite literally our children. It is a bit more personal for the reader in some aspects, we know we have all imagined what it would be like to be with Harry at some point, so this goes out to you. We made Y/N of Russian decent in this one, just to make things fun ( and because we wanted some representation for our Russian babes out there 🤧). All in all, we are extremely proud to present Fan Club to you, we hope you enjoy ✨✨ - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, glimmers of fluff

word count: 11.2k

It was hard for Y/N to explain how she ended up in this situation. Fake Dating international popster, Harry Styles. To be honest, it was all a bit of a crazy story even for Y/N. She couldn’t believe it either. Y/N was a simple girl with simple taste. Her older sister, Katya, owned a bakery called ‘for goodness bakes’ that’s been open for about 5 years, Y/N has been working there alongside her. She spent most of her time at the bakery, having just graduated with a degree in business marketing. She liked doing things most 22 year old girls liked doing: fun makeup, nights in with wine and romcoms, and of course being a fan of Harry Styles.

Since she was 12 years old, she had been a fan of One direction and well... Harry was always her favorite. She initially fell for his preppy appearance, but ultimately fell for his charm and quirkiness once she fell deep into the fandom. And she did fall deep. She had a stan account on every social media platform, she bought merch and multiple copies of albums, and even wrote fanfiction on wattpad. To say she was a big fan was an understatement.

About a month ago, Harry’s team had reached out to her via the email of her bakery. They had seen the post that she made, a picture of herself with a kiwi tart with the caption, ‘it’s none of your business.... unless?’ and had asked if they could have a meeting with her at their headquarters. Obviously, Y/N agreed to this meeting, thinking that they might want her to cater an event or something. But no, they wanted her to be his ‘girlfriend’.

They had explained to her that they had been searching for the perfect candidate who was not only a fan, but was also just a regular everyday girl. They said they liked her aesthetic and felt like she would suit Harry well. Her background in business marketing meant that she would be good at knowing what to post and her being a fan meant her love for him would be believable. The fans and media would eat this story up! It took Y/N a moment to comprehend what they were asking her to do, but they started bringing up numbers and Y/N couldn’t say no. This would get her and her sister out of debt and could pay for so much new equipment at the bakery. This sum of money could change her life. Plus, she’d get to fake date her idol? It seemed like an offer she couldn’t pass up. So she signed the contract.

That’s what landed her here, waiting patiently at the door of Harry’s secret London home where his manager Jeff said to meet the two of them to discuss the plan from here on out. Her heart was beating extremely quickly, wanting to keep things cool. She didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, she wanted him to like her and trust her.

Harry hadn't started off jaded. Granted, most didn’t. They had the sparkle and excitement. But Harry had lost it. Years and years in the industry, from when he was a teenager to present, it had ruined it for him. That excitement he had previously had been watered down immensely. A lot, actually. But he was mostly tired of the things that came with the job— not music itself.

Harry loved music. Making it, writing it, performing it. He loved his fans. But he hated what came with if. The people who constantly wanted things from him. Not a moment of privacy when he was out and about— though that had gotten better as his fans grew up, honestly. The media blowing up and twisting every bit of his words to fit their own wants. The fact that anyone he was seen with was a potential love interest in the eyes of the media. How they scared off and ruined good things for him because of it. He was tired of that. Every person who came to him made him wary. What was the motive? What was the reasoning behind them coming to talk to him? Fan or someone wanting a photo just for their Instagram? He wasn’t sure.

Relationships had been hard and for now, he’d basically sworn off of them. After the bad ending with Camille, he had decided to take a long break. Until the label said he should probably have a PR move, one unlike his previous ones. One involving dating someone posing as a fan. A regular person, without his level of fame. Someone relatable to fans. Or that’s what Jeff has said to him. At this point, Harry was used to being tugged around with his dating life so he agreed. Did he want to? No. But he was under contracts and he wasn’t going to fight something so stupid. It would be a few dates, hanging out. Right? He didn’t even have to talk much to her.

He was far too aware they probably offered her a good amount of money. Most likely why she was even there. So when he let Jeff open the door, he was annoyed with himself.

She was pretty. Fuck off. That’s how he felt. A lackluster wave was given to her, a nod as well as she sat down across from him at his oak dining table. Cute. Pretty hair, soft cheeks. Petal pink lips. If this wasn’t a stunt he would probably think she was a lot cuter, though.

A wave.

Years worth of build up for this moment and all Y/N had gotten was a wave? She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Y/N offered him a smile, a shy but genuine one before looking over at Jeff. Obviously she had known who Jeff was, how could she forget the iconic ‘help me Jeffrey!’ Quote. The hundreds of photos of them together. It was surreal, but her shock surprisingly helped her stay calm.

“Alright! Harry, Y/N. Y/N, Harry.” Jeff smiled at her, knowing Harry wasn’t happy about being here. “So have you been properly briefed about what’s required? It’s a lot more than we would usually ask of a project like this, a while longer.” He said. Harry looked at him in question. What?

“Yes, they gave me a brief outline at the meeting I went to but nothing too specific. They said you’d go over that here.” Y/N answered, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. “Oh?” She asked, knowing she had signed a contract for a year. It was a long time but she assumed everyone was in it for that long. Y/N really didn’t know how PR relationships worked, she just assumed things about them through what she had seen on the internet and what all the stans were saying. She never really believed that people did things like this, but clearly, they did.

Y/N looked over at Harry once again, taking any spare moment she could to really take him in. He was just sitting there looking so fucking perfect. An angel in the flesh. This was the man who had sparked her sexual awakening, who had taught her to be a badass bitch and to be kind to everyone she met. She knew she wasn’t his type and that this wouldn’t really end up like a fan fic, but she couldn’t wait to at least become his friend.

“Wait— how long?” His voice was deep and rather cold, but he wasn’t aware it was longer than usual. Granted— his own fault. Jeff said to look over the contract and he had just signed. It had been so many years of reading contracts he was tired of it.

“A year. There’s a clause to extend it if need be, or shorten after 8 months.” Jeff shot him a look. “But that’s only one of the differences. I know you’re tired H, but get it together.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Y/N here is the perfect girl next door. We found her to be perfect to do this with you. But it’ll be different because it’ll be a confirmed relationship. All other stunts, they’d been left to interpretation and never spoken about them. Blacklisted questions in interviews, etc. but we’re going with the narrative of you both being quite comfortable talking about it. Y/N won’t have to admit much considering she has her own life and job outside of this, but you’ll be talking about it in interviews. About this lovely girl who made you rethink how you went about relationships.” It was odd. A whole storyline for their relationships.

“We know how to work this. You’ll both first be photographed together downtown. Harry holding your hand, Y/N. And then we will plant things in each of your social media posts to hint at it. Seemingly innocent but, a tattoo of his in the background. Wearing a shirt he has recently worn. His journal. All of those things.” Jeff explained the beginning of it. “From there, you’ll be more open. Post photos or do those Instagram stories your bakery is good at, Y/N. Have his voice in the background. Be photographed out and about. Simple things, grocery shopping. Y/N will come to your small gig, Harry. Hang around with your mum, and wear one of your rings on a necklace.” He would buy one and wear it for a bit before giving it to her so there was proof it was his. “When we get into it... we’re thinking cute Instagram posts from both of you. Open. Affectionate. A bit of an acting job. You’ll both be good at it though. I am confident you both can handle it.” He wasn’t sure how nonchalant Harry was seeming, though. Y/N seemed uneasy with how out of it Harry seemed to be and he didn’t blame her.

“That’s quite a lot more than I bargained for.” Harry spoke again, sighing. “I suppose if it’s necessary for the numbers. I don’t know why I can't just do a meet and greet or something but. Okay.” He muttered.

Harry’s voice didn’t sound like the Harry Y/N knew. It was rather rough and not in the way she had grown to like it. It made her look away from him quickly, not wanting to piss him off. Maybe he was just having a bad day? She couldn’t really blame him. She was sure having all these fake relationships probably sucked. The tasks seemed fairly easy. Y/N knew that the team would be there to remind them about things and well, if she got to hang around Harry all the time, it really couldn’t be that bad. She really wanted to get to know Harry and hoped that he wanted to do the same. It would be more fun that way.

“You know why. Y/N is perfect. The fans will love her. She’s gorgeous, but has the girl next door stuff about her. Plus, she’s very nice. You’ve been lovely, Y/N.” Jeff turned to her, attempting to comfort her.

Y/N really needed to stop giving Harry the benefit of the doubt. He just kept proving her wrong. The tension between Harry and Jeff showed that Harry really wasn’t on board and it made Y/N feel strange. She thought that Harry had agreed to this and knew all the conditions, she didn’t think this was something that was sprung on him that he didn’t really get to think about. She smiled shyly again at Jeff’s compliment, looking back at Harry to try and read him.

“I’m sure it’s weird having some stranger come around to be your girlfriend and all, but it’s just as new for me if that makes you feel better.” Y/N really wanted him to like her. Like really wanted him to like her.

Harry wasn’t sure what she was playing at. What she wanted. If it was more money or fame or whatever. He wasn’t sure exactly why she was doing this either besides for money. Whoever wanted to do this for fun would be absolutely crazy.

“Thanks.” Harry nodded stiffly. Half of him didn’t like treating her coldly, but the bigger part was terrified of getting hurt. If she was using him for more money. Going to ask him to introduce her to someone else. No one ever liked him for him. They liked the things that came. The attention and money, luxury that was thrown at him. It was never for him or his love or jokes or interests.

Sure, people pretended to care but he knew far better than that. People didn’t care. They used him as a step stool to get what they wanted. Means to an end. Just like his last relationship that had really hurt him.

Okay so he didn’t like her. Cool. Y/N couldn’t say it didn’t hurt because it definitely did, but she couldn’t sit here and cry about it. Y/N had come to this meeting and signed a year long contract and there was no getting out of it. So she sucked it up, looking back at Jeff who had explained what he wanted them to do.

“So what we’ll do is have you both take photos of things today. Harry, you take a photo of your new guitar and have the flowers in the background. Y/N, you’ll take photos of the flowers and have just the bottom of the guitar on the counter.” It must be shocking for someone who wasn’t in the industry to see how this was so calculated.

“Would you want us to post them at different times then?” Y/N questioned, assuming hers would be uploaded first. If she posted it before Harry people would be more likely to connect the dots that the two of them were together. Well, that’s what Y/N would think as a fan. Being a fan and having a fan’s perspective would really help her in these situations because well, she knew what they wanted to hear and what they would think based on what she posted. Y/N felt like she could fully manipulate the fans to think whatever. It was quite simple really.

Y/N’s main account proved that she was a normal girl who also happened to be a Harry stan. She followed Harry on all the socials, but he probably would wait to follow her until they were public. That would make more sense. They needed to build up the story.

See. Harry wasn’t aware that she was a fan fan. There were plenty of people who went to his shows and shit for Instagram photos and videos. He didn’t even know her socials though so he didn’t check. It was maybe a little shitty of him to have a preconceived notion about her when she hadn’t barely talked to him, but he knew so many people who wanted to be in her position. Wanted to ‘date’ a celebrity until they found out that they have to travel with them and have to deal with fans and other people wanting your significant other.

“I’m thinking not too far apart. Take the photos today but... hm. You post first. And then Harry will later. It’ll have people looking later on when they see the flowers. Fans are so insightful and research thoroughly.” Jeff was sure she knew that though. She’s had a fan account. “I have to go take this call— Harry, why don’t you tell Y/N about the album?” He excused himself then, going out and into the other room.

No, no, Jeff, don’t leave. Y/N sighed to herself, nervous as all hell to be in a room with Harry alone when he had made it clear that he didn’t really want anything to do with her. But maybe they could talk about his album like Jeff suggested? Y/N loved his music, she often played it at her bakery. She was excited for the new album to drop and had genuine questions about it.

Harry felt a bit on the spot but he just shrugged. “S’almost done. Don’t have a title yet. Choosing the singles soon I think.”

“That’s exciting.” Y/N smiled, “would you say it’s within the same vein as self titled or did you go in a different direction?” She asked not wanting to sound like an interviewer but this was a genuine question. God this was so uncomfortable for her, she wanted to run away and cry. She never thought that her idol would make her feel so uncomfortable in his presence. She was in his home and he clearly didn’t want her there, clearly didn’t want to have a fake girlfriend, and he was letting her know that pretty obviously whether he knew it or not.

The thing is, Harry knew he was making her uncomfortable but he didn’t really know how to stop it either. It wasn’t like he wanted to be fake. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be left alone with his music and his fans. Not a pretend fan posing as his girlfriend. That wasn’t ideal. No, he would much rather have real conversations with fans that weren’t paid to sit in his house and pretend to be interested in his music. He knew that Jeff wanted him to play nice though, so he answered the question vaguely. As always.

“Different. A lot of different influences I guess. A lot of different things I wanted to make. It’s fun to do it.” God, Harry was being bland. But his fears drowned out the guilt he felt. Yeah, maybe it was harsh. He knew that. But he also knew that he would regret it if he didn’t. Who knew what this chick would spill to the press later on? What she would want from him! What else she would ask Jeff for.

“Well that’s good. I’m glad to hear it was fun.” Y/N nodded at his answer, feeling discouraged because he really didn’t seem like he was going to warm up to her no matter what she did. Y/N didn’t want to ask anything too specific in fear that he’d think she was a crappy fan, and well, she didn’t know how else to get him to warm up to her. These tricks usually worked on grumpy customers at the bakery.

She wanted the earth to swallow her up. She was so embarrassed. She was just sat there, praying that she could leave soon so she could lock herself in her room and cry. The worst part was, no one, literally no one, could know about this relationship being fake. There could be no loose ends.

“Again, I’m sorry about all this. Can’t imagine being in your position...” Y/N showed genuine empathy for him, attempting to get him on her good side one more time. Y/N wouldn’t give up on being kind, after all, he was the one that taught her that. It was just strange that he was acting this way towards someone he was going to be working closely with. Maybe this was just how he treated people professionally. He wasn’t mean, but he was cold. Y/N was still a fan at heart though and despite how he treated her she still would give her life for him. She loved him, cared for him, and would genuinely support him. It made her wonder if his whole nice guy persona was even real.

The hell? Why was she apologizing? Harry thought. She was the one getting paid for it. If he wasn’t in this position she wouldn’t be getting paid well. He wasn’t sure why this Y/N girl was trying to be so nice to him. No way in hell she could possibly imagine his annoyance. Perhaps she was a nice person or something, usually. But he was pretty positive she wasn’t rich and definitely did it for the money. It made him wary of being close to anyone when they were in this situation. Any time he had made friends with past stunts, they’d faked being truly wanting to hang out with him. Once it ended, they weren’t interested in hanging out when people couldn’t see them. It had hurt when he realized it was a pattern.

Jeff came back in with a smile, but not oblivious to her sad face. Harry would get chewed out after, for sure. “Alright! I need you both to exchange numbers so you can communicate about meeting up. It’ll be pretty frequently.”

Y/N looked at Jeff with a small smile, nodding her head before pulling her phone out and handing it to Harry. She had changed her lock screens to something a bit more ordinary. After all, she didn’t want Harry thinking she was creepy or anything. Hanging out with Harry is something that she should be excited about, but suddenly the idea of it kind of scared her. Being alone and struggling to make conversation because she was just that intimidated by him. It was making her rethink all the years that she had spent fangirling over him. He didn’t know she was a fan, maybe that’s why he treated her the way he did? If he knew would he be fake and all over it? She didn’t want to know.

“My days off from the bakery are Mondays and Wednesdays. But I know you probably have a set schedule so just let me know and I’ll work around it.” Y/N offered, genuinely wanting to show both Harry and Jeff that she was more than willing to cooperate. She wasn’t sure how she would get herself out of this one.

Harry sighed as he put his number in. God, he hoped she didn’t sell it. He didn’t want a new number. Someone had sold his number to fans before and it had sucked. As much as he adored his fans? He didn’t want them calling him every second. He was hesitant in handing her his phone. It was something he didn’t trust many people with but she tenderly took it and typed her own number in. Didn’t even try to snoop which was good— but then again, he was looking at the phone in her hand.

Y/N was gentle with Harry’s phone in her hand, typing in all of her information into the contact so he didn’t have to ask. Something told her he would be annoyed having to asking her for her address if need be. So she just put everything in there, her birthday, her email, her phone number and the bakery number, as well as her address.

“Monday’s and Wednesday’s work with him. He’s recording Thursday Friday and Sunday to give the voice a rest. Has some writing sessions he will take you to.” Jeff was annoyed as hell at Harry’s lack of kindness. He’d have to give him his own brand of talking to, but wasn’t sure if it would do much good. He was quite a stubborn person. An Aquarius at heart.

“That’s good. Yeah, I don’t know if you’re a morning person or if you like getting your sleep so um.. yeah just text me.” Y/N spoke kindly, still trying her hardest to be as accommodating as possible. To Y/N it wasn’t about the money, sure the money helped, but it was about giving Harry fans someone they could genuinely look up to. Y/N was a normal girl. She had normal sizes, normal tasks, normal likes as a human. She was a kind person. The fans would quickly find her information, quickly find out that she is a fan and would quickly see that Harry was finally dating someone that represented them. They had wanted someone like that for years, but too bad it was all fake.

Harry understood the context of it. He was going to date someone ‘normal’. Not in the world of the famous. Which in some cases, Harry wouldn’t mind. But there would be tons of things Y/N wouldn’t understand. What to be quiet about. Who to talk to and who not to. Privacy. Things she wouldn’t just... get. He had been in this life for 10 years now. It was his normal. And Y/N would have to learn it all and keep her mouth shut.

“I am. I get up at 6.” He usually did. He could sleep in but he wasn’t the type of thing he did often. What she didn’t know was he had an awful time sleeping and needed to take stuff to help him. His mind never stopped, was always going. There was a lot Y/N didn’t know about him. He would do his best to make sure she didn’t find out.

It was hard for Y/N, continuing to be kind, but to keep herself from crying. She felt so out of place and so unwelcome, god she hoped that he would warm up to him. Maybe this was a terrible idea? Too bad she was in it for the long haul now.

“Jeff, I have a question.” Y/N spoke up shyly, “obviously people don’t know anything about this yet, so there isn’t a microscope over my life just yet. I want to make sure I take all the precautions I can to keep my privacy to an extent, but also don’t violate Harry’s.” She genuinely was worried about that. She didn’t want to say too much or do the wrong things, she also didn’t want people finding out where she lived. Where she worked, sure, well... she probably would have to stop working at the bakery if things got too hectic. Y/N looked at Harry once again, a soft and gentle expression on her face. She wondered what it was about her that was making him act this way because this wasn’t the Harry she knew, not at all. All she wanted to do now is go home as quickly as possible and cry. She really wanted to take her posters down, really wanted to hide everything but frankly, everyone would question why she suddenly took things down. Y/N had to continue to keep her cool.

Jeff’s face softened. they’d lucked out with this one. Harry was an idiot when it came to things like this, put his blinders on— he knew well enough. But Y/N would help his career. Hell, maybe she could be his friend and help him come out of the funk he had been in with trusting people.

Harry didn’t let it show on his face, but he was impressed with what she said. It didn’t change much, but he had it on the back of his mind. No one else had to think of these things before because they’d just known, but the fact that she had asked was nice. Time would only tell if it was genuine, though.

“That’s a good question— I was actually about to ask about your social media. You’re going to need to change passwords. Verify everything twice. Take any potential tracking information away like the whole location finding on your phone so your friends can find you. Any social media accounts not reported to us originally in our first meeting would need to be shown. I suggest doing a deep clean and moving things out of it, as much as you can. Not enough to make you look like you did it on purpose. But... think of what you’d look for.” Jeff knew Y/N was a fan so she would have a similar brain.

“Okay yeah, I’ll need some help with that.” Y/N blushed, looking down at her hands. She had reported all her socials to them, yes, all of them. All her fan accounts and her main accounts. She wasn’t sure how to turn off all the tracking things or what to take down. She wasn’t problematic in any sense, so it wasn’t like she had any content she needed to delete. But it would probably be things like taking locations off of photos and turning off her location on snap map and for any of her friends that had her on there. She had actually done the latter this morning.

“Also, I really don’t intend on telling anyone about this unless you give me the go ahead. So please, if there is anything you need me to do, let me know?” Y/N really was trying to think of everything here. She wanted to make sure this was seamless because she knew the fans would be like hawks over another fan being Harry’s girlfriend, if they found out it was PR they’d be crushed. Their whole image of Harry would be ruined. They needed to make this as real as possible. Y/N had so many suggestions, so many insights on what it was like to be a fan. She definitely wanted to speak up about anything that could potentially ruin this because well, this was Harry’s career and they couldn’t be caught doing this.

“Perfect! You’re going to do well with this, Y/N.” Jeff had been the one to find her so technically, this was his finding. He hoped that she could get Harry to realize how weird he was being. Because ultimately? He was a nice guy. He loved his fans, his friends and his family. Strangers scared him. He didn’t know who to trust and that made him act strangely. His team knew it. He was always polite to people he worked around but when it came to people invading his personal life, getting close? He said, no ma’am. “I’m happy that you’re aware of how it works a little. It makes it a bit easier. Harry here has had a few almost disasters with these types of things.” Jeff smirked at him, making Harry grumble and blush a little bit. Fuck. That wasn’t something he liked talking about too much. “Anyways... Y/N, we need you to be yourself. That’s why you were chosen, yeah? Just continue on. Be less active on that other twitter account of yours for the moment.” He had a whole plan for that. “Don’t stop completely but... I’ll send you ideas of what to tweet. Keep it vague but that you’re excited.”

Harry didn’t know about the fan account. He would have, if he had read any paperwork, but right now he didn’t have a clue.

They wanted her to be herself, which shouldn’t be too much of a problem. She just had to be aware that Harry was in her life now, consistently. He was her ‘boyfriend’ now. That’s something Y/N never thought she’d say. But here she was.

“Okay, can do.” Y/N nodded, already knowing not to tweet as much on the fan account because well, she wouldn’t be doing that if she was hanging out with Harry. It would be hard for her not to tell anyone but she knew she had to do it. This was her duty as a fan to the fans, to make them feel represented and loved. “And what’s the story? Like how we met?” Y/N asked, feeling like that was important to know as well. She mostly asked for Harry’s sake because he clearly didn’t read the contract or the emails that had been sent around on the topic. This was an important first meeting, she assumed Harry wouldn’t want to hang out with her today but they probably would sometimes next week.

“Well, we wanted to leave that up to you. I had the idea of you both frequenting the same coffee shop— and before you both roll your eyes, I know it’s a fan fiction trope and I know that. But it’s believable considering Y/N doesn’t have any true connection that would be explainable to the music or entertainment industry.” Jeff explained. “If you have better ideas, Y/N, please feel free to tell me. However— we are trying to show this as you both fell for one another quite quickly. You both are very fond of one another and are around each other quite a lot.” He knew that Harry would be hard to deal with so he was definitely going to be offering Y/N some sort of bonus. “I think after the photos, we will have you both photographed leaving a dinner together next week. You’ll go with both myself and my girlfriend so it won’t be just throwing you two into the water.” Plus, he didn’t want her to be alone with Harry like that out in public without experiencing it first with him there. Jeff felt slightly protective of her, too. Like a little sister. “Also, I know you already said he’s but being clear— you’re okay with hand holding and physical touches in public with him, yeah? And for photos?”

Y/N laughed at the idea, “I mean that does work.” She said shrugging to herself. “But do we have anything to back that up? Have we ever been to the same coffee shop at the same time where someone who works there can confirm?” Y/N was really thinking about every detail here. “Jeff you’ve been to my bakery before haven’t you? Could just run with the fact that we became acquainted and you introduced us?” She felt like that was far more believable and paps wouldn’t have gotten photos of Jeff anyway so the story was contained between Harry’s team and her bakery. Her coworkers wouldn’t know who Jeff is, it was really fool proof. Also, did he say dinner next week? Wow, that was fast but she would be ready. “Where is dinner going to be? Just want to think about what I should wear.” Y/N blushed, wanting to make sure she looked nice for their first encounter together. Something very her but very consistent with something Harry would like on a girl. Y/N had been following Harry for ages, she knew what kind of outfit to wear based on what kind of restaurant it was. A casual dinner outfit for Harry was quite dressed up, so she’d probably end up doing a bold trouser, heeled boot, and plain blouse combo.

“Actually— that’s a good idea. I didn’t think about the staff thing. This was definitely done at the last minute so I’m not on my A game right this moment. Wonderful— lets do that.”

Harry didn’t know anything about her, he realized. She worked in a bakery? He did when he was younger. He wasn’t sure if she knew that or not but it did make him a tiny bit more interested in her. Why would she do this? There had to be a real reason. He was positive.

“Actually— Harry, go in there a few times this week. Make it somewhere people know you go. It’ll be believable that you found a new place and love it. And some of her coworkers will catch on, so on and so forth. I can call a tip, perhaps tomorrow? I know it’s starting early but we are on a schedule.” Jeff noted.

Harry was going to go to write tomorrow, but that obviously wasn’t about to happen. “I guess so. I can make time.” He had a pretty free day otherwise but it still annoyed him. However he was hoping there were good treats. Harry was a good actor when it came down to it. He hoped she could tell— didn’t want to thrust her about with his actions. In public was acting. All of it.

“And yes, about the touches and stuff. As long as it’s something Harry would actually do in public, yeah.” Y/N explained, knowing Harry was relatively private when he was in relationships. He didn’t do much PDA and she’d be okay with anything he was okay with. “Just um, let me know what’s okay.” It was a bit nerve—wracking, having to do all of this and make sure everything was sorted. Y/N knew a lot about Harry so she was positive that it wouldn’t be a problem, she’d only learn more. It was Harry that had to do a bit of learning about her. He would find out most things about her fairly quickly, she was an open book.

“What type of baked good do you like?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. “I’ll have some for you come around, pack you a little box.” She blushed, expressing something to him that she had always wanted to do. She knew he was a baker back in the day, maybe they’d bond over it?

Her coworkers would be shocked that Harry would be there considering Y/N was a massive fan and they knew that. But that’s when Y/N would tell them about it all. “You want me to tell my staff what exactly?” She wondered, “that we are kinda sorta seeing each other? Or that we’re just seeing how things go?”

“Uh— I like lemon things. Ginger cookies. Scones.... anything really.” Harry said quietly. It wasn’t said as coldly as the last couple words had been. Maybe it was because of baked goods? Regardless.... he was hoping that said bakery was good. He was obviously going to pay for them.

“He also loves red velvet cupcakes.” Jeff piped up. “But I think that it’s a lovely idea, being familiar with what he likes... you’ve been so smart.” She really was. It was almost scary. Jeff approves immensely. Even Harry had to admit it was surprising to see her full of good ideas. “I think you should say you’ve been seeing one another. Not sure about where it will go but you really like him. Trust me— Harry here will be able to make them believe he’s very into you. His ability has made it so we’ve never been caught doing this thing. Not like that Camila and Shawn couple. They’re having leaks all over.” He winced. Their poor PR.

Y/N smiled and nodded at him, already having in mind what she would have ready for him when he came. She had an incredible lemon bar recipe and some other bits. Of course red velvet cupcakes. “Red Velvet are my favorite too. And carrot cake.” She commented, blushing once again. It’s true, Harry had been very good at all the PR relationships. She’d soon find out which ones were and which weren’t. She was determined to be the most coveted of them all though, the one that stuck out and actually stuck around hopefully. But she was positive that she’d fall for Harry’s act, hell, she’d fallen for him a long long time ago. “My staff is really tight knit, my sister runs most things actually. I trust they’ll keep things on the down low if I ask them to.” Y/N nodded, knowing that nothing would slip past her team unless instructed. She had a good feeling about all of this, they seemed to have most things under control. Y/N would help tie up loose ends that fans might think of and as long as they followed her lead, it would work.

“If you feel as though your sister can truly hold a secret, you can tell her. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t have someone to lean on.” Jeff said. He trusted her enough. Harry looked at him suspiciously.

“Wait— hold on. What about an NDA?” Harry asked hurriedly. “We can't have any bit of this shit going out.” He was scared. So scared of someone finding out and thinking he was some damn fraud.

“Harry— it’s fine. I’m sure she had enough sense to judge that a sister would tell or not. It’s up to her, anyways. Just remind her of the immense legal action that could take place if someone were to talk.” Jeff shrugged, knowing that Y/N really did know. “But we’ll have a tip called in about a bakery he’s been rumored to go to— no way that they’ll know if it’s true— and they’ll probably take shots through the window. We can escalate later during the week to him picking you up from work to bring you home. Something like that before the dinner.” He thought out loud. “Thoughts? Y/N?” Harry has been quiet. He didn’t like these things so he didn’t say much. Just let them plan whatever and wing with it later on. He was kind of shut down internally.

“I’ll think about it. But I’m still apprehensive to tell anyone. I wouldn’t want this getting out regardless... I wouldn’t want fans to lose trust in Harry just because I decided I wanted to tell my sister.” Y/N explained, knowing she’d probably tell Katya if it got too intense, but for now, she wasn’t saying anything. “Seems fine. I think once a week or maybe twice a week is more than enough. Don’t want to over kill either. Essentially, if he’s in the area he can pop by.” Y/N explained, thinking that was the best way to go about it. “I know you said we are on a schedule but you don’t want it to look unnatural either.” She said and sighed as she looked over at Harry.

He really didn’t seem to like this and she understood but she hoped that he would loosen up even a little bit. She wasn’t a terrible person, all he had to do was ask. Y/N was pretty much an open book. “Is there anything else?” Y/N asked, eager to get things done and maybe chat to Harry a bit if he was willing before going home.

“I don’t think so. We’re going to try and take it as it comes so we don’t overwhelm you.” Jeff was the main talker and Harry was kind of just sitting and watching. Trying to read her. Either she was a very good hiding person, or she was good. Either way, he didn’t trust her. Lots of people had seemed sweet and generous and fun when he had first met them only to turn out to absolutely wreck his fragile heart. He knew he was fragile that way and he had given people the benefit of the doubt one too many times. He didn’t trust his own radar anymore. The more Harry looked, the prettier Y/N got— which was infuriating. It pissed him off internally because she had the type of lips every man wanted wrapped around their cock, and beautiful legs he had seen when she walked in. He never took women for granted, would never disrespect them, but his initial reaction was arousal and that made it even worse with his trust issues. Her eyes were soft and doll like but had a sharpness to them that he was far too aware of. She was smart. Incredibly so. And she was curvier than he usually dated— or was seen with, actually, because he had a few one nighters with girls that was far bigger than Y/N and he had loved it. He liked her body. It was a perfect mix, he thought. And then got annoyed about even thinking about it. Damn it.

Y/N nodded, “Alright, thank you very much. I’ll um... I’ll take the picture of those flowers and I’ll get out of your hair.” She chuckled apologetically, sensing that Harry really just wanted this to end and she would give that to him. He made her so nervous, now more so because she was scared of making him angry with her. Harry had always been someone she didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Harry was so nice to everyone that it really made her upset that for some reason he had singled her out and not liked her. It was disappointing. But I guess people were right when they say, never meet your idols. In many ways, Harry was Y/N’s ideal man. She liked how driven he was, how multi talented he was, how charming he was, how he was unapologetically himself. Plus he was scientifically proven to be one of the most attractive men on this planet next to ryan gosling. It was a shame that a lot of the things she had thought about Harry originally would slowly crumble as she got to know him better. It hurt, but she’d keep that hurt to herself. Just because the illusion was ruined for her didn’t mean it was ruined for everyone.

Harry felt bad, because she seemed to be in a hurry to leave. It was what he was supposed to want, so why did it make him so uncomfortable? He hadn’t wanted for her to be upset. Just... to keep her distance. She had these baby eyes and soft cheeks that looked sad and he wanted to give her a reassuring smile but he was trying to remind himself that there was potential danger here. Most likely she was a wannabe actress. Testing it out on him. Made sense.

“Okay.” He nodded, standing up. When he did so, he realized he was quite a lot taller than her. Usually, he had models who matched his height. But she was smaller. Cute. He hadn’t experienced that before. Knocking that thought out of his head, he took the photo of his new coke bottle green acoustic, letting the flowers show in the back before he rested it back up against the counter. Y/N took her turn with her picture, taking a bit more time than Harry. Probably a better result too, and he wished he had patience at the moment.

A ping of sadness spread over her, she thought maybe he’d pretend to try and get to know her a bit but nope. All hope was lost then and Y/N went to take a photo of the flowers in a way that would fit her personal Instagram aesthetic. She usually posted shit like this so it wouldn’t be too out there. Once she was happy with the photo she had slipped her phone back into her pocket, looking at Harry and Jeff with a small smile.

“Well, um, thanks for having me.” Y/N started off, pulling on her jacket. “And I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked Harry with a small tinge of hope. He had said he would visit her bakery but she was still worried he wouldn’t show up. She felt so small. Being who she is, she went in for a hug anyway. Both figuratively and physically, Harry had intimidated her and she was weary about every move around him at the minute. Maybe she’d get used to it. “It was nice to meet you, Harry.” Y/N gave him a genuine smile, feeling even more shy now that she was so close to him.

This would be torture.

Harry was a bit startled, but relented and hugged back. It was a bit weak, but he gently patted her back. God damn it. Why was she acting so sweet and nice and innocent? He would almost rather her be truthful about her wants of money and fame. It would be a lot more tolerable.

“You as well.” He pulled back, face neutral. Thank god he had gotten his hard on down a decent amount. Never would he live this down. He didn’t just get hard for no reason. That girl had bamboozled him and was trying to trick him and wouldn’t let it happen. When she left, Harry continued to stare at her back before the door shut. And then he was promptly slapped upside the head by Jeff.

“Ow! What was that for?” He hissed, rubbing the spot he had been smacked. Jeff Gave him an incredulous look, shaking his head.

“You idiot. You’re going to scare away someone who will ultimately help your career and relationship with your friends.” Jeff scolded. “That girl is nothing but sweet. She’s doing this for you, and you know why. She’s a kind person and you better not make her run on us early. Do you want the press to get wind of it? She could talk, if you really treat her poorly. Looked like a damn kicked puppy when you wouldn’t talk to her.” He got his dad face on, crossing his arms.

“You’re going to have to suck it up. Regardless if you actually like her or not, you’ve got to be decent to her. She’s stuck with you for a year.” Harry was irritated with that. Stuck with him? Although... maybe he was accurate with that.

Y/N tried her best to keep her tears at bay, putting on some music that would keep her energy up until she was in the comfort of her own home. She had been as discreet as possible leaving Harry’s secret London home. To the public, he lived somewhere in Hampstead which was actually closer to where Y/N lived in Camden.

After about an hour on public transportation, Y/N had finally made it back to her cozy flat. Tears immediately began to form as she unlocked the door, sniffling as she took off her coat and threw it to the ground with an absent mind. She ran to her room, storming to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. She needed to be prepared. How could someone she looked up to so much been such a dick to her? She could understand he didn’t trust strangers, but he truly made her feel like she wasn’t even worth basic human respect. Y/N was trying to be as kind as possible to him despite him being such an asshole to her and even still, he gave her a weak hug and response. As if she was a chore. It made her feel sick to her stomach. So she cried for a while, showered, got cozy in bed and went to sleep. She had early mornings at the bakery seeing as everything was freshly baked. So she was up at 3:30 every morning to make sure she was ready for their opening at 7.

----

‘Hello. I am coming in at 9:30. H.’

Harry looked it over. It wasn’t too friendly but wasn’t too rude, right? He was overthinking. Y/N had made him think last night. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her too badly, because while he did see her sad eyes he thought he was making it up in his head to try and feel bad for her. Jeff has confirmed it and made that ugly feeling in his stomach crawl into his throat. He sat and thought about how to make it so they were at a distance, but she wasn’t too hurt. Every part of the scared side of him said to continue his actions, though. He wasn’t being mean. Right? ‘Wrong. You dick.’ The other side of him told him. Conflict was something he saw all too much of in his life. He knew too well about the issues at hand. But he had always taken it so he wasn’t sure how not to prepare for it.

Pulling up to a quaint little bakery, Harry smiled to himself. It was cute. A punny name. He liked it. Somewhere he definitely could see himself going randomly if he had seen it. Parking his car across the street, he sat for a moment and gathered himself. Now to prepare for being cute to her.

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t smile at the text. She had always imagined getting a text from Harry and here she was getting a text from Harry. It wasn’t anything special, but it was to her despite how sad he had made her yesterday. She had dressed herself in a baby blue sweater and overalls, putting her hair up into a messy yet contained bun. All that crying yesterday made her eyes fairly puffy so she made sure to do some fresh, no makeup makeup look. She wanted to look cute if he was coming.

“What’s gotten into you this morning?” Katya asked, seeing Y/N’s giddy mood. They were currently baking everything they’d prepped yesterday, putting out all the freshly baked breads, bagels, cinnamon rolls, and donuts.

“Dunno, just... happy I guess.” Y/N smiled, saying it in a way that would raise questions. Perfect, get her thinking. Her excitement was genuine. He was going to come and see her and be sweet to her, it was like a whole new interaction between the two. Best part was, she could just play out everything she imagined in her head. It was a perfect set up. Jeff was so smart with getting a fan to do this.

“Hm. We’ll see. That looks like a boy smile.” Her sister really had no clue. Everyone knew she was a big fan, and would be absolutely floored when he came in.

Harry sighed against his steering wheel, he put on his big boy pants and decided to get a move on. Today, he wore a loose white button up with a few of the buttons undone, black trousers and red boots with ‘sucker’ on the back of them. He had been sent the whole collection and did quite like it. But his pea coat was unbuttoned, car keys stuffed into the coat pocket after locking the door. The little bells chimed as he walked in, and he took a look around. It was very cute. Instagram worthy, some would say. It smelled really good too, which was a plus.

The earlier morning rush had passed, kids now at school and parents now at work. The rest of the day really consisted of prepping more goods and serving whoever came in. Y/N really liked working at the bakery, it was her safe space to be creative and feel good. She liked to spread the message of kindness she had learned from Harry into her store everyday.

There were a few people in the bakery when he came in, sitting drinking coffee and doing work. They hadn’t really noticed who it was, and even if they knew they didn’t seem to care too much. Y/N popped her head from out the back and smiled widely when she saw him, walking over to the register so she was closer to him.

“Good Morning, how can I help you?” She asked in a teasing tone, that giddy grin still on her face. Y/N was going to let him take the lead, letting him choose how this interaction would go but of course Y/N was going to turn up the flirt factor so that anyone surrounding them could tell there was something going on between the two of them. “You look nice.” She hummed.

“Hello, love.” Harry felt a weird gushy feeling in his stomach when she had smiled so widely at him. Fuck. Y/N looked so pretty. Hair perfectly messy, lashes long and eyes wide and glittering. Her lips had a bit of gloss or something along those lines and he wondered if it was flavored for a moment. “You do as well. Like the color.” He did, and that wasn’t even a lie. He loved the color and how it complimented her skin and hair. Made her eyes pop out. “I would really love a cup of coffee... and a hug.”

Though she was surprised, the look didn’t stay long on her face. Instead, he was met with a gushy smile and a crinkle of her nose, “can do, yeah.” Y/N hummed as she rounded the corner to come give him a proper hug. Closing her eyes as she snuggled into his chest for that brief moment.

God. Harry was fucking himself over with this, and he didn’t even know why he suggested that but his heart twinged when she looked surprised for a moment, but beamed like a ray of sun before rounding the corner. Her apron was taken off and he decided to take the initiative and hug her. It was a friendly hug, held for a bit too long. Her body was warm, warming him from the cold he had felt outside. Her cheek pressed against his chest which had been bare since he had forgone a few buttons, and his mouth felt dry. He hadn’t had a decent hug in months by anyone but his mother. Pulling back, he brushed a tendril of hair away that had escaped.

“I came to see if you’d be so kind and give me some pastries.” Harry spoke quietly, making the moment look private— even though he had heard the choked gasp and the whispering going on behind them— her coworkers. It was sweet really, the two of them clearly excited to see each other, but also not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they were like that. It was perfect acting.

Well, she wasn’t acting. Y/N looked up at him with enamored eyes, the smile never leaving her face as he even spoke quietly to her.

“Of course, how many are you thinking?” She asked just as quietly, biting her lip a little as she hesitated to move back behind the counter to get his coffee going. “Black coffee yeah? For here or to go?” Y/N confirmed, knowing that he didn’t take cream or sugar in his coffee from being a fan. She’d just say Jeff told her.

Her coworkers were bewildered, Katya’s eyes nearly popping out of her socket as she watched the interaction unfold. Y/N giggled at them, shaking her head as she went to get a box for Harry’s goods.

“What would you like? Anything you’d like, on the house.” Y/N told him, standing behind the massive glass cases full of baked goods. “Lemon bars, red velvet cupcakes, and anything else?”

“Absolutely not on the house, I’ll be paying. Nice try though, pet.” Pet was a good nickname for her. She was a responsibility— but a cute one. Even if it burned his ass to think about her like that. But right now? Y/N was plenty cute— and she acted very, very well. Harry almost believed this true excitement. Thankfully, he found that he fed off of that energy from her acting. “You already know? Impressive.” Harry looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, the coffee black. Lemon bars, the cupcakes. Hm. Throw a few random cookies in there too. I’ll be going to write for a little while.” That was good to do, right! Throw in a daily activity. He felt his mind was off when he was around her. It went a little crooked, was the best way to say it. He got distracted and honestly? It was kind of infuriating. He supposed it wasn’t her fault, unless she was secretly a siren and singing a silent song. Or had a spell attracting him to her, even though he was fighting it hardcore.

“Hey.” Y/N pouted when he refused her offer, “let me do something for you.” She said firmly because she meant it. A few baked goods and some coffee cost her nothing in the long run, but she wanted to do something nice for Harry because all the fancy dinners and experiences about to come were something she’d never be able to repay him for. Y/N packed everything up in the box, even adding a cute little note that said ‘tell me which was your favourite — Y/N ❤️ xx’. She put it into a paper bag and set it on the counter next to the cup of coffee. She was actually quite excited for him to try them, she wanted his opinion and frankly she knew they were damn good.

“Long day ahead of you then?” Y/N asked, referencing him writing. She was genuinely asking because she cared, wishing that he was comfortable enough with her that she could come and give him a cuddle when he got home. What was she thinking? This isn’t real, he’s acting. And she’s meant to be acting as well.

It did strike him off that she didn’t take the money. Or the offer of paying. Usually people say that when they want it anyways and just expect you to insist, but she really didn’t seem to care about it. Which... was suspicious. While the bakery was very cute, it definitely wasn’t high end. He could tell they needed some new chairs and definitely some updated paint but he thought it added to the charm. Maybe they truly couldn’t afford it? He was curious as to what the hell she spent the money she was going to get on.

It was true that the bakery was a little bit worn, but with the money she’d be getting from this contract halfway through? They’d be able to afford closing for however long they needed to renovate. Y/N has even wanted to buy the space upstairs as well and host small acoustic gigs for local musicians.

“Uh.. I mean, a little bit. I’ll be writing a bit and then going to a very boring meeting.” It was the truth. God, how was he going to be able to focus? Harry was fighting a battle internally with how it was with her, trying to read things and find warning signs but it was hard. She was scary. Not in an outright way— but the way that. If this was real! If he had just walked in and met her at the coffee shop and didn’t think this was acting? He’d give her his number. She had an amazing charm around her that he was positive she had to know about— though acted as though she didn’t. “I hate to cut it short, pet. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?” He took hold of her smaller hand and squeezed it, before stuffing a hundred pounds into the tip jar. He turned around before she could protest, only turning when he got to the door to shoot her a wink. And as soon as he was out the door, he heaved a heavy breath. Christ. Why?

“Aw well, text me if you get too bored.” Y/N gave him a cheeky smile, leaning on the counter a little bit so she was closer to him. “Have a good day, pet.” She teased right back, smirking as he started to walk off. He really didn’t have to put a hundred pound note in there, that was flexing a bit, but it was very nice. It would go straight towards the bakery as it normally did.

3..2..1…

“What the actual fuck was that?” Her sister came storming over with wide eyes. “Y/N— that was... he's all over your walls. He has been on them for years and now he’s callin’ you pet?” She was shrieking but for good reason. Harry bloody Styles came in and hugged and flirted with her sister, they seemed to know each other well enough. It was incredibly shocking and Y/N hadn’t said a damn word to anyone. She used to stay up to watch his tv show appearances— hell, Katya was 99% sure she still did. But now? “You guys have each other’s numbers.... Y/N, you can't be for real.” Her eyes were wide as she looked at her blushing sister. Anyone would be just as freaked out. Harry was not only a celebrity, but she had seen the times she spent hundreds on tickets and had photos of him as her lock screen— which had mysteriously disappeared.

“Yeah, yeah he is.” Y/N giggled, blushing deeply as her sister looked at her in awe. Her sister knew first hand how much Y/N loved Harry. She had watched how Harry single handedly saved her from the darkest of times, how genuinely happy he made her. Hell, she even went to a show with her once just to see what all the fuss was about. Y/N wrapped her arms around her sister in a hug, squeezing her tightly because she really appreciated how excited she was. Her poor sister was convinced it was real and Y/N couldn’t break it to her. Couldn’t tell her Harry was actually really cold to her and not anything like that.

Truth is, Y/N had a really shitty love life. All her ‘boyfriends’ weren’t really boyfriends and Harry was sort of the one thing that kept her going. She just dreamed about what she wanted, dreamed about how Harry would treat her better in hope that one day maybe, she’d meet someone like him.

“His manager, Jeff. He comes here a lot you know... and he um, he introduced the two of us.” Y/N explained, being her shy and coy self. It was 100% believable.

----

Harry went to the writing session and found himself writing about her eyes. Bright eyes and lush thighs and every bit of silky hair he wanted to wrap around his hand. He had very dirty thoughts about this girl and it translated in to paper.

Harry had to go home and jerk off. And it was embarrassingly quick. He thought about how her sweater had dipped down and he’d seen the swell of her breasts, imagining taking her back behind that counter and fucking her sweet cherry mouth and watching his cum drip from her lips down to her tits. Knowing that in his fantasy world, she’d be walking around with his cum on her— and that was quickly done.

The guilt he felt after though? It was annoying. He was so cold to her but wanted to fuck her raw. So in that guilt, he went up to the kitchen and tasted a lemon square— nearly fucking moaned. It was so good. He knew it was part of the whole thing to go there, but he wouldn’t be complaining because if he got those every time? He would be set.

‘Lemon square is good. Thanks. H.’

It was dry but also a compliment, so he didn’t feel so bad for using her face in his dirty mind.

Y/N was about half way done with her day when she got that text from Harry, smiling a bit because he actually decided to text her. Sure she left a note, but he didn’t have to text. That was a private thing that they did after all.

‘glad you liked them 🍋’

She wondered why on earth she felt so fucking happy. He had just popped in for a brief interaction but it made her whole day fly by. Before she knew it she was closing down the store, locking up to head home. “You going to see your man tonight?” Katya asked curiously and Y/N blushed.

“No, unfortunately. But we’re going for dinner next week with his manager and his wife.” Y/N told her, knowing stuff like that she could tell her. “Might hang out tomorrow though cause it’s my day off, but he’s a busy man so I’m not sure yet.” Even hearing herself speak about Harry like this was so strange, but she’d get used to it for sure.

--------------------------------------------

[part 2]

A/N: Harry :( why he have to be like that?? better hold on tight for this one - n+d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry writing #harry styles smut #harry styles #jarofstyles

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Pack: Till The End Of The Line

Summary- 8.4k Steve Rogers x You. It's the final showdown between Packs and Pierce isn't going to just give in to Steve. You insist on going to, ask this is your fight just as much as anyones. Warnings- Violence.

A/n- Listen Everybody this is a hot mess. But that what we should all expect from Sweater. Much Love from the Wolves. 🐺❤

Chapter Five / Masterlist

Sam swung the car into an abandoned parking lot near the motel, Steve went right into the parking lot instead and found Natasha’s car. The final vehicles drove past as well, following Sam. Steve was sure Pierce had the road monitored and would be notified that they were there. He fucking didn't care if the son of a bitch knew. He wasn't coming to negotiate with the Alpha, he was coming to end him. Steve eyed the number on the door that Natasha claimed was hers, and sent her another text. ~We’re here Nat.

Seconds later the curtain to the room brushed aside to show a flash of her face and locking her sight on Steve in the truck, she gave a wave in acknowledgment, ducking back inside. Steves phone buzzed again, and you glanced at the message for him as he pulled the car towards the end of the lot out of the street light and out of notice of the night manager of the motel. “Nat says we need to grab some men’s clothes.” You twisted in the seat and reached into the bags in the back, sorting through them. “I think Wanda tossed Bucky's bag in here.”

You were getting familiar with the Packs different scents, and you pulled one close that reminded you of the White Wolf, unzipping it to make sure. It was definitely his, and you pulled it over the seat. Steve took it from you as he opened the door, and you followed along, sliding across the seat and his arm looped around your waist as you went to slide down, easing you down to a stand. You take a moment to stretch out the kinks from the all day ride. Steve watching you with a softness in his eyes, his hand moving to rub small circles in your back to ease the tension there. “Sounds like there's more than just them in there from the way Natasha spoke.” You worked your bottom lip with your teeth, a habit showing your nerves and excitement, wondering who it could be, was it wolves from the Sales Floor? You hoped so.

“Natasha said earlier this afternoon that they were able to get two others out with them.” Steve tucked you up against him as you two walked back towards the artificial street lights that hummed in the night. Sam, coming up from the opposite side, his nose slightly lifted, inhaling for any danger, but all seemed calm. All seemed quiet. To quiet maybe. Steve knocked on the door, and there was a click. He stepped in first, protecting you in case it was a trap, but there was just Natasha standing near the door, Bucky still in wolf form stretched out on one bed, and on the other was a woman and a male black wolf who seemed very subdued, the two of them pressing close together. You slid around Steve's side, as soon as you inhaled their scents. Before Steve could stop you, you cried out with happiness. “Kat! Caine!”

Kat broke out in a relieved grin, and unfolded from around the Black Wolf, holding her arms out with a cry of happiness, and you rushed into it, before falling to the bed, hugging Caine’s neck and burying your face into his ruff. Steve balked a bit, his Wolf growling at the intimate kind of touch you were giving this strangers and Natasha edged her shoulder against him, whispering. “Easy Steve, they are her friends.”

Agitated blues snapped at Natasha. “Don’t worry about me.” Steve breathed out, and when you let go of the Black Wolf, chatting between the two, your hand affectionately petting along his back, but at least there was space between you two. The Wolfs growls turned to rumbles in his chest, never losing sight of where you were. Natasha arched her brow at her Alpha and hid a smile at his over protective nature over the she-wolf who has within' a short time become a part of his life.

Steve couldn't blame his Wolf for his reaction, the urge to go take you back was strong, and that was simply cause Steve didn't know these wolves. Didn't know we're there loyalties lay. He trusted you, more then he realized he did, holding himself back from demanding you come back to him.

<We would have been dragging Alanna back to us.> his Wolf rumbled, checking out the strangers you were so at ease with. <I don’t trust them.>

Cause we don’t know them. But we trust her.

Your eyes sought out Steve's over your shoulder after a few minutes. Happy to see two of your friends, but you and your Little Wolf felt Steves discomfort though, and you purposely moved away from them, going back into his hold, knowing if he could touch you, he would feel more centered. Sliding your arm around his waist and a hand under the back of his shirt to pressed your palm against his back. His own went over your shoulder, and there was an immediate reaction from him, your Little Wolf easing to lay down when he calmed down. Steve’s tilted just a bit to block some of you, but his body eased a bit, and you felt a warmth spread from him into you. “Caine, Kat... This is Steve, the Alpha that took me in.” Caine dipped his head in acknowledgment to the Alpha and Kat shifted off the bed, her steps nervous and ready to take flight.

Steve inhales some of the female coming towards him scent, and it was just as fearful as her wavering steps, Bucky sensed it too and shifted off the bed, sliding up alongside her to press against her legs in encouragement and her hand instinctively dug into his fur before relaxing. “Thank you, Steve, for helping Y/N and us. Caine and I, we wouldn't have lasted much longer on The Sales Floor.” The Black Wolf yipped in agreement. “If Natasha and Bucky hadn't come... “ She breathed out, smiling now for the first time. “Thank you to all of you.”

“It was the least we could do, I’m sorry we didn't know earlier.” The tension in Steve’s shoulders easing and you twisted your face to press against his side for a moment, your Little Wolf crooning in affection. He tossed the bag towards Bucky, motioning to it. “Wanda packed you some clothes Buck, and Caine there should be enough for you as well if you want to shift back.” The White Wolf Immediately pulled away from Kat and grabbed the bag, disappearing into the bathroom. Shadows under the door of him shifting back and the start of a shower hitting white porcelain filled the room. After he pulled out the clothes he wanted, he tossed it over towards Caine, who shifted back and searched through it for pants and a shirt, with hopes that they fit.

Natasha moved to sit on the bed, one leg crossing over another. “They have a whole room full of wolves for sale Steve.” You separate from Steve’s side and go back to Kat, the two of you sitting on the opposite bed, listening to all that Natasha shared, nodding to confirm. Steve and Sam, they remained standing, adrenaline starting to lace their veins. Just as Natasha was finishing up her side of the story, Bucky came out, his hair wet as he pulled it back and tied it out of his face.

“That fucker has a wall of shifter fur. Not just wolves either. And he's working with Hydra. They are looking for an Alpha for something, he was planning on selling me to them. Pierce never did say why they wanted an Alpha.” Bucky growled and Sam clasped the man's shoulder.

“Well, I don't know why they want you, Lone Wolf.” Sam joked and gave Bucky’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Good to see you again Man.”

Bucky nodded in agreement. “Trust me, when they put that fucking collar on my neck, chained the Wolf down completely, and sucked me of any of my Alpha strength, I thought that might be it for me. I had never felt weaker in my life. They have that thing spelled with some dark magic shit. Lucky Kat over there, she was able to get it off.”

“The collars, You think they are powered with blood magic?” Steve questioned, his Wolf agitated at the mere mention of them. Getting collared for a wolf was one of the worst things that could happen to them, and anyone using blood magic on shifters was a dangerous person for there community.

“Fuck yes, that's not just the regular wild magic Wanda uses. Definitely a Hydra tool that they are supplying Pierce with.” Bucky said and you piped up. “Brock arrived when Hydra started supplying those collars. Pierce was selling us before without them, but is able to charge more if he can sell us collared.”

“Fucking Brock? He's involved in all this to?” Natasha hissed, had she been in her wolf form, her hackles would have been raised at the mention of the ex alpha. You nodded, Kat, reaching to take your hand, knowing the reason you broke out. No one wanted Brock to own them. It never ended well for any of them they were all sure. Sam and Steve gave each other a look. They still had to tell Bucky about what happened. “Buck, help us with the truck?” Sam piped right up, figuring it was better to tell him in private than in a room full of strangers. Bucky never hesitated as he stepped outside, Steve and Sam following along. “Wheres the rest of the pack? Steve trust me, to get Pierce, you need more. His compound is huge.”

“The rest is up ahead waiting for us to decide how we want to do this. But Buck, we’re finishing with Pierce tonight. I'm done, after hearing Y/N, as well as yours and Natashas accounts, the Council can't fucking say anything about me going after Pierce. There's more...” Steve paused, having walked the White Wolf far enough away for anyone to really notice them.

“More? What else could there fucking possibly be?” Bucky pulled up short and Sam paused next to his packmate. Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “We all know you see someone in the town for a while.” Bucky’s brows came together, nodding. “Yes, wasn't anyone's business, so I've never felt the need to tell anyone about Cassandra.” He looked between the two men, and the White Wolf started to bristle with unease at the way Sam and Steve looked at each other. “What happened to Cassandra?”

Steve and Sam both knew he would blame himself, and Steve finished telling him. “Brock came back and broke into her house. From what we can tell, she's still alive. But he has her.” Steve could see the crossing of disbelief and rage crossing Bucky’s face, and his hand ripped through his hair, cursing. “Well, what the fuck are we doing here? We have to go for her. That son of a bitch has her!” Sam reached out to grasp his arm, Bucky ripping it from his hold and fully snarling at him. “Of course, we have trackers trailing him now. They are actually coming this way from the last text I got. And our best lead is that pack.”

Bucky’s head whipped back to Steve, breathing out. “Y/N did say there was a connection between Pierce and Rumlow.” Steve nodded and shrugged. “Hydra too, which you said they were selling you to them. What do you say, brother, help us clean up with Pierce and we go get your girl?”

Bucky nodded and Sam grinned in relief that the White Wolf saw the logic in helping take down Pierce. “Alright Man with a Plan, so how are we going about this?”

“I’m sure they already know we are here from when we got into town. We're taking the fight to them, Keep them locked down on their territory, no human casualties, in fact. Sam, get the rest... We're heading there in fifteen through the wood. I'm assuming you and Natasha can lead us Bucky?” The man nodded.

“How we going in?” Sam asked, wanting to know how many shifters he needed ready and Steve started doing calculations in his head. Bucky piped up. “He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, He’s going to have a majority of wolves to maul us, He sent mostly wolves after our escape. They did shoot at us with drugs but in this dark, the human sides are going to be close to useless in the dark.”

“Pride too, bragging rights he took out Rogers.” Sam shrugged and Steve narrowed his eyes, rolling them.

“I would like to see him try.” Steve snarled.

“Yea you’re going to. He's going to come straight for you and Y/N both.” Bucky assured Steve. “Man, I don't know what it is about her, but he's bound and determined he's getting her back. You probably shouldn't take her.” Bucky stated matter of fact and Steve shook his head.

“I already promised her, and she is refusing to stay behind, I will keep her with me, and she will be safe,” Steve stated, and the two other men exchanged a look of surprise.

“You sure?” Bucky drawled out with a hint of disbelief, and Steve snapped out. “I said what I said. Sam go, mostly shifters. Easier to go undetected in the dark and faster.” Sam peeled away from them to do as he was told. Bucky watched out into the darkness, mentally preparing himself for what was coming. “Your sure about this Brother?” He asked softer this time, and Steve rubbed at his face. “This is her battle as much as ours, would you really tell her she couldn’t? Bucky, it wasn't like she was just captive. They used her, tried to force her over and over into bonding.”

Bucky winced and shook his head. “Fucking assholes. How we’re still fighting this kind of shit these days, it’s beyond me. No, no I couldn't ask her to stay behind. She has the entire Pack behind her. We will bring her and the others justice.”

Steve bowed his head to Bucky in gratitude, the men clasping each other's shoulders in solidarity. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to go help Sam, till the end of the line, right?”

"To the end of the line." Steve responded without hesitation, a line as old as they were at this point. Had been said when they were young pups, just learning of the world and all her ups and downs, and now tonight, when another bloody battle faced these men, and they had seen it so many times, it wasn’t even thought to worry about themselves.

The men separated, Bucky getting ready to shift once more and Steve collecting you from the hotel room, as well as Natasha and your companions. The Red Wolf and the two black wolves exited the room, leaving you and Steve alone. The snapping air between you two was intense, and he sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hands out. Inside the Silver Wolf ached to remove You, take you away from danger.

< It’s going to be too dangerous. They might rip her apart Steve.>

Like I told Bucky, this is her battle as much as anyone. Look at her, she's strong and ready. In the time she's been with us, she's found her voice. Steve’s eyes roamed over you as you stepped in closer, straddling his lap. You keep telling me she's our Mate, we don't go anywhere without our mate at our side.

The Wolf rumbled in agreement when Steve stated this <Okay, your right. But when this is over we're taking her home and never leaving the lands again. Spend the rest of our days running the beaches and raising some pups.>

Look at you wanting to settle right down. Steve's hands slid along your hips and his eyes closed, breathing your warm honeysuckle scent in. The image of you, curvier with a bump, the orange flowers he now associated with you were woven in your hair and your skin smelling sweet like milk and honey flashed like a memory from somewhere, and it made Steve's brow furrow slightly in confusion.

You broke the silence. "He’s arguing I shouldn't go, isn’t he?" You say softly and Steve’s eyes spring open, the clearest blue you've ever fallen into. Sharp as ice they were till they turned gentle for you.

"That he is, but the choice is not ours to make." Steve fell silent, and it stretched for a time as you let your fingers play with the front of his shirt, doing your own inner searching.

You leaned your forehead against Steve's, your eyes closed as you let yourself breathe him in, your Alphas scent settled in your senses, calm your racing heart, and your Little Wolf brushed up against the walls of your mind.

<Were ready for this Y/N> The Little Wolf crooned. <Our Alpha believes in us.> Your eyes sprang open and his blue ones, with a hint of greenish-yellow laced through irises now, were looking right back at you. It wasn't just Steve, you could see part of his Wolf to, and his nose ran along with yours , tilting his head, and kissing you deeply, your hands moved to cling to his shoulders to pull yourself in closer, flush against his chest. Ending the kiss with a flick of the tongue over your lips, he pulled back.

“You two ready for this Little One?” His hands skimmed along your back under your shirt and you nodded, playing with the front of his shirt. “I need this to be over, those wolves to be saved. They deserve all the same freedoms I have now.” you nod. “I am ready.”

“Then your Alpha tells you to shift, and we will be on our way.” He kissed you one last time, letting you move to a stand, stripping away your clothes, Steve followed your curves as you swayed with the movements. When you were free of the confines of clothes, you let your wolf rush forward to take over. Fur raced up your spine and shifting of your body left with the long-legged lean wolf before Steve, a wag of your tail, and press of your muzzle into his cupped hands, he slid his fingers along the side of your face and over your ears, rumbling. “Your breathtaking Little Wolf.”

You nipped at his chin in affection and twisted towards the door to sit, waiting. Steve went to a stand and opened it, stepping out into the night to make there way behind the motel, the woods bordering the motel went straight to Pierce’s pack, Steve could already smell them on there border, You tilted your head up and bristled at the scent. Nearby other wolves started to descend to the pack lines, and You nuzzled Steve’s hand, trotting forward. Staying human and keeping up with his pack was easy for Steve, the choice to stay human, was a hard one. His Wolf fought him every step of the way, but challenging Pierce for leadership, he couldn't show any fear.

He would face him, human first, and if the man surrendered to him, all the better. Steve knew though that it wouldn't end that easily.

Your ears flattened as you trotted alongside Steve, passing some people Sam set out of sight of the pack line, people armed with rifles, ready for an attack should they get past the wolves. A flash of white brought the White Wolf alongside your other side, an Alpha in his own right, he matched your steps, and let his body brush up against your own in comradeship. Bucky’s way of showing that you were a member of the pack, you were Steves Mate, the Alphas mate, and had his loyalty. You loosened against him in your trot, and pink tongue brushing along the side of his face before pulling back towards Steve as he slowed down, coming to the line. Ahead of him was just as you suspected.

Along the line was Pierces Pack, and just like Steve, Pierce had not shifted either, wanting to warn off the incoming Mountain pack. Right now it was just you, Steve and Bucky in sight, while Pierce showed his numbers, gave them away. You vibrated visibly seeing so many familiar wolves who were once your “family”. Steve felt your tension and dropped his hand into your fur, burying down to the softer fur, and his calm passed onto you.

“Well isn't that cute, my bitch finally came back.” Pierce sneered, familiar with your wolf, and his nose wrinkled, tutting as he shook his head. “But I can smell the Alpha all over you Y/N. Letting him paw you up when you know better? You were meant to belong to Brock, he paid good money for you.” Your muzzle rolled in a snarl, all teeth showing and there were several rumbles from across the lines, taunting you to attack and break across the line. Steve looked down at you, and let his wolf rumbled from his own chest, bringing you back to his attention. Your ears flattened against your skull, fur bristling. Pierce laughed at your submission to Steve, snickering. “Well finally someone broke her at least. Used to have to beat that out of her.”

“If she left of her own free will Pierce, then she was never yours.” Steve retaliated back, his stature intimidating. “I’ve never had to lay a hand on her or anyone, she's free to choose what she wants.” Coming up along his side, Bucky settled on his haunches, flicking his ears and sniffing the air, taking a mental count of all the wolves along the line. Pierce smirked seeing him too. “Don’t worry, her pretty hide and the White Wolf's will look nice, tacked to my wall.”

Steve snarled at the remark, his Wolf just crawling under his skin, pacing back and forth even though his yellow eyes never left Pierce. “So Rogers, you can just send them right on over. and we can end all this posturing over who's the tougher Alpha, hmm?” That left the Silver Wolf snapping, and Steve shaking his head. “Are you just going to run your fucking mouth this whole time? Give it up Pierce, your operation is shutting down tonight. Y/N, all those wolves you tortured, along with the other shifters, your wall. All of it is enough to strip away your position for good.”

Pierce sniffed and paced towards the front, toe on his packs boundary line, snarling at Steve in anger. “Try your best, I know I outnumber you and your pack.” Pierces wolves slunk closer to the trio, you bristled at them, the fur along your spine and ruff around your neck standing straight on end, Bucky though on the other side of Steve, he just gave a wide jawed yawn, tongue curling, before snapping it shut.

Steve tipped back his head and howled, a low possessive howl, claiming where he stood, and the surrounding area. The Pierce Pack became clearly agitated, almost breaking rank even though Pierce screamed at them to hold the line. Your head and Bucky’s whipped back, adding to your Alpha’s claim, and the woods behind him filled with the calls of the Mountain Pack, the sudden heavy Pack Call made Pierce stall, trying to pinpoint how many wolves Steve actually did have.

“Impossible to tell I know,” Steve growled out, a bit of a smirk played on his face at the scent of Pierce’s packs fear just growing. Slowly out of the woods behind him more wolves appeared, all snarling roars with bared fangs, fur bristling on end making their size bigger, larger more intimidating. Each one a steady lope till they stood behind there Alpha and his mate. Bucky just behind her, and Sam, the beta coming up on Steve’s left, flexing down with coiled haunches, almost cat-like. “I told you Pierce, your finished. We might be on your lands, but your no Alpha. Your pack will break under mine.” Steve’s eyes flashed bright yellow, his hand dropping to brush along your fur, feeling you rumbling lightly at his side.

Pierce shook in his rage, his wolves pacing, this time more in anxiety and fear than rage, they kept bumping and snapping at each other, the weaker ones shrinking down to the larger aggressors of the pack, snarling and biting at one another until fighting amongst themselves ensued, Pierce was losing control, where opposite the Mountain Pack held formation, calm and collected. The air was sour with there fear. “Enough of this, Wolves.” Pierce roared out, and all his wolves cowered at the command of his voice, ears laying back flat against skulls, and rolling there eyes till the whites showed, another sign of the fear getting out of control. “Rip them apart, just like they are those weaklings you killed on the Sales Floor earlier today.”

On the other side, you heard the wailing behind you, as your own heart ached, the two smaller black wolves crying out there grief, you shuddering next to Steve at the loss of your friends, the ones that weren’t sold previously. Above you, you could hear Steve inhaling sharply, whispering for you softly. “Steady Little One.” Your body leaned into his leg instinctively, forcing your grief to subside. There was no time to mourn, the surge of Wolves came in a wave, crossing the border, and the Mountain Pack lunged forward as well, Steve and you moving in sync once more as you both crossed the barrier. You two had a goal, and it was to reach Pierce. Take out the Alpha, take out the pack.

Of course, the Pierce Wolves knew that too, and instinctively went after Steve, preparing to collide with one, Bucky darted in front of you with ravaging snarls, sinking into a wolf's and shaking so hard that the wolf yelped in fear and pain, scrambling to get away from the White Wolf as blood was staining around his mouth a pinkish red, Steve and you darted around the two, Sam engaging from the other side, directing wolves to keep the Alpha covered, that was until there was nothing but Wolves crashing into each other, with full force. The woods were filled with rage and blood seeping into the ground beneath them. Both sides weren’t without injuries and casualties.

Finally, you and Steve were on the other side, back in your old home, and even the ground felt familiar under your paws, Pierce, the fucking coward was nowhere to be seen while his wolves were just over the border, doing there best to keep the Mountain Pack from descending onto their lands. Steve next to you growling out “Where the fuck did he go?” his nose lifted in the air, scenting, but yours was keener, waving it back and forth, you caught the sharp tang of Pierce, it stunk. As most fear does, it made your wolf side angry to smell the sour fetid scent. Giving a yip, you twisted on your toes, racing forward, and right behind you, Steve followed, letting you lead him towards what was once familiar to you.

The scents, they all mingled together and Steve was having a hard time keeping his Wolf from taking over. The beast raging against the barrier. It was natural for him to want to go into the fight with his Mate just as you were, but he was going to face Pierce just as he was. When Pierces Wolf came out, then his would as well. Making it a fair standoff.

<You can’t fucking keep me here.> The Alpha snarled as Steve followed his mates racing form, she bolted through a door and down some cement stairs, descending into the underground tunnels, artificial lights humming overhead and her nails clicked on the stale green linoleum, Steve’s bare feet slapping just behind her.

For now, don’t worry I’m sure you will sink your teeth into him soon enough.

The Wolf slammed once more into his mind, taking enough control that his human canines turned into fang length, the hair covering him taking on a silver sheen among the dark blonde. Then it receded once more as Steve gained the upper hand, growling at the beast while keeping a keen eye on you as you started to slow, weaving back and forth in the hallway while your nose kept twitching, Pierce must have started panicking, knowing they followed him into the tunnels. Your whine pierced Steve’s ears and your own ears flattened against your skull as you paused at a door, unsure.

And it all happened in a second, the door swung open, a noose dropping around your neck and snapping tight with a twist that managed to flip you off your feet, leaving your paws sliding on the linoleum unable to dig in and leverage yourself back up.

“About fucking time you came home bitch.” Pierce snarled, and Steve was this close to grabbing Pierce when he held up a syringe, making Steve paused in his steps, narrowing his eyes at it.

“Ahhh, just like I thought Alpha, you know exactly what this is. You want her Wolf to survive, you will take a step back. NOW.” Pierce snarled with triumph, his face twisted into a gleeful look. You kept at the end of the pole, having gotten your feet back underneath you, keeping your eyes on Pierce, waiting, watching for his guard to drop. You knew this trick, you knew his plan. And you wouldn’t let it happen. It was just a matter of waiting him out.

“At this point, you ruined her. But, we can make a pact, a trade. I can smell it on her just as much as you that you have basically claimed her.” Pierce dragged the pole closer to him, sliding you across the floor. You snarling in warning at Pierce. “Oh stop it Y/N, you think I’m really scared of you, don’t forget I’ve put you in your place before Bitch. Plenty of times.” He twisted the pole again, flipping you onto your side once more, the linoleum being your worst enemy.

“STOP! She’s not going to attack, Y/N, stand down.” Steve said, doing what he could to keep you safe, not wanting to agitate Pierce into actually using that injection on you. Pierce dragged you closer once more, but still not close enough for you to get to him without getting that initial shot.

“Your wolves are fighting for you up there Pierce, you can stop this right now. Just let her go.” Steve said, attempting to get closer, which a single step had Pierce raising the injection, squirting just enough to remove air bubbles. Even Steve’s Wolf was silent, the tension racking his form making him quiver as his gaze never left that syringe. That much he had filled the syringe with, fuck might put both you and the wolf into a coma, it was more than needed to accomplish what Pierce’s goal was.

“I can, not that it matters much. I killed there Alpha years ago and took over. Had this all set up within’ a year? The Packs, the Council that attempts to rule us, no idea what I’ve been doing with a bit of help from Hydra, all these years. All you fucking Alphas, Betas, Omega bitches, you all never see… the Bigger picture. What we COULD be. More than animals living in packs. So narrow-minded, you all only think like animals. Come take your medicine Steve, and I won’t sacrifice my little bitch here you stole.” Pierce taunted him, and Steve glanced at you, on your belly to keep from Pierce flipping you off your feet once more, still watching Pierce with unbroken focus.

“If I take that, you let her go with my wolves. That’s the deal.”

Yup, this might be the end of the line for us. It was good while it lasted.

<At least the fucker will be done before I go .> Both Wolf and Man let there gaze linger on you a moment, at least you would survive. Steve’s hands raised to show he had nothing on him, and Pierce was about to toss the injection to him when you twisted your head to grab the pole from his hand and lunged at him.

“Y/N, No!” Steve yelled, and Pierce, in his bid to protect himself sunk the needle into your neck as you latched onto his arm, feeling both of you topple back, when you both landed Pierce had shifted, biting back at your neck and ripping you off his foreleg. He bit harder, trying to sink far enough to get to your jugular and rip at it. Thankfully the wire coiled around your neck blocked him enough to keep him from doing that. His body, crushed yours underneath him, the wolf ripping at the clothing he was tangled in to shreds in a few yanks for freedom.

Steve was on him in seconds, a rage of silver fur smothering Pierce, who turned away from you to face Steve, his muzzle dripping your red blood and you started shaking your head, trying to loosen the noose, dislodge it from your head while the two males clashed against each other. Bouncing off the walls as each would coil around one another, trying to get the upper hand. Steve ripped into his back, flinging the wolf to crash against the cement blocks, which made Pierce yelp once before Steve was on top of him flinging fur and blood around him like a destructive cloud, working on flipping him to his back, which Pierce easily rolled, planting his front paws against Steve’s windpipe, and hind legs scrabbling to dig into anywhere soft and vulnerable, scrabbling to tear into Steve till the Alpha backed up, shaking out his fur heavily. Pierce righted himself and backed up towards you, which you were pressing your neck along the wall, and trying to dig your paws underneath the wire to yank it over your head, the effects of the shot started to burn through you, leaving you gasping.

The two Wolves collided again, to focused on trying to overpower the other to hear you cry out in blinding pain, your body ebbing away to your human self, your Little Wolf flailing around your mind.

Hold on, please. It can’t last.

The little Wolf curled in on herself. <I don’t know if I can Y/N.>

There has to be something to stop it.

Your Little Wolf just cried in pain, biting at herself in her craziness, her howls shattering into fragmented pieces, sharp shards piercing your mind.

Steve happened to catch sight of You curling on the floor, knees tucked under you and arms wrapped around your torso as your hunched with your head pressed to the ground. The momentary distraction enabled Pierce one last attempt to subdue Steve, attempting to break his neck, sinking his jaw through all the fur and muscle with as much force as he could. It was too little, too late. With a shaking heave, Steve dislodged Pierce, that final blow stunning him as the wolf crashed into the floor. Steve padded to him and grabbed his hind leg, his jaw crushing the bone with a screaming howl from Pierce as he wrenched wolf across the linoleum, closer to you. Your head had lifted off the floor, the yellow of your Little Wolf slowly ebbing away as your eyes as you blinked back tears, snarling at Pierce. He shifted back to human just then, looking at you with something you weren’t used to from your old Alpha.

Fear, Pierce had fear in his eyes and he groaned, Steve releasing his now broken ankle and padding over to you, pressing his muzzle against you, sniffing over you. Drawing in a deep breath, you circled your arm around Steve’s neck and slid yourself up to a sit, whispering. “I’m okay Alpha.” The Silver Wolf licked at your neck as your shoulder leaned into him, panting with rapidness through your agony. You weren’t okay, the pain was excruciating, but your hatred for Pierce overrode that.

“We’re done Pierce.” you snarled and Pierce rolled up his pant leg to look at his ankle.

“Don’t let your Alpha kill me, and I will fix what’s happening to you.” His eyes shifting from you to Steve, who’s fur bristled and red-stained fangs bared at him, ready, ready for you to release him. Here he didn’t have the power, you did.

“I know that’s a lie, my Wolf might be wounded, but I can see it all over your face. Hear the desperation in your words. Consider this a merciful death.” You hissed at him, tears falling down your face as you gripped onto Steve a bit more, straightening up so you weren’t bowing in front of Pierce anymore. He didn’t deserve even an ounce of your submission anymore.

Pierce’s eyes panicked and he started to pull away, slow. You weren’t worried about him getting away. Not with the quiver you felt in your Alphas coiled muscles under his fur, the way his yellow eyes never broke from the man trying to pull himself up to hobble away. “It’s fairer then you gave any of us from the Sales Floor, or your victims you skinned alive.” Loosening your hold from Steve, you sunk a bit, whispering just for him. “End him.”

And that set the Alpha off, the 20 feet Pierce managed to put between you two was covered in a few leaps from Steve, and a final spring landed four paws onto Pierces back, the large mauling jaws circling the back of his neck, and a loud audible yell as well as a bone crunching snap dropped the man in a crumble, Steve shaking his head vigorously back and forth till satisfied with how limp he was. Dropping the body, Steve rushed back over to you, hearing your groan, and sink back lower.

Shifting back was easy, lifting your slight form into his lap was easy. What wasn’t easy was seeing how much pain you were in, your breathing shallow, and the effort to stay with him now almost impossible.

“I got you, baby, I’m going to call Tony, see if he knows anything about this. Just don’t give in okay?”

The panic welling in the man’s chest when he couldn’t smell her beast either was maddening, the sweat the trickled down his back was cold with fear, he had never seen a person loose there wolf like this, they were one and the same. “We will fix this.”

“Steve” You gritted out, your vision starting to fade. “She’s fighting, but barely…” Your eyes went disorientated and rolled back, going completely limp in his arms.

“Y/N! No, baby come back to me, Y/N!!” Steve gathered you in closer against his chest, for once lost in what to do.

The wave of Wolves outside was like a drawing of tides, each side pushing the other back, then switch and push them back. Bucky, kept being tagged between two rather quick wolves, attacking from each side randomly, till a third joined him, pushing him away from the rest who were fighting off their own attackers, and unaware of the line separating groups. Bucky managed to get ahold of one, they brushed in close to bite at him, and the White Wolf whipped around with lightning speed, and the attacker wasn’t fast enough. His roaring fear was cut short with a crushed windpipe and blood bubbling up from his muzzle, tossed down to drown in his own blood flooding his muzze, and Bucky went on defense again, preparing for the onslaught replacing there downed comrade.

Above his head was a whoosh, two arrows planting themselves into the ribs of the wolves, disabling them as the force in the arrows shot at them flung them both back into the trees.

Bucky immediately perked up and twisted to look for who was using the arrows, when Clint landed on the ground lightly from above, another arrow fitted in his taunt bow, walking towards the White Wolf. A tilt of the head from Bucky questioning their good fortune in the Archer arriving and Clint smirked, glancing through the trees and lining up another shot, inhaling deeply before releasing. “Nat called me after Steve to let me know what was going on. Tony won’t miss me borrowing a jet.” He shrugged and Bucky huffed in laughter, bumping himself against Barton’s side before bounding back into the fighting. Barton started pinpointing the opposing wolves, and their numbers were starting to lower, more and more of them rolling to there backs and flashing their throats in defeat, like a white flag. As soon as that happened, the Mountain Pack would stop with the attack.

Natasha, Kat, and Caine were circling over one of the last opposing groups, much in the way Bucky had been attacked before, they paced around them and attacked randomly to keep them unsure of where flying teeth and body slams would come from. In an act of desperation, they all raced together straight at Kat, running her over and splitting up in different directions. Natasha was about to give chase when other wolves of the Mountain Pack took over, going after any running for cover, driving them towards there line of people waiting. Natasha listened closely when she heard the sharp shots go off, and counted. One for each that escaped. Caine nudged Kat back to a stand, and Natasha, panting slightly looked around, all had become quiet.

Bucky and Clint made there way over, Clint’s hand dropping to Natasha’s head and letting his fingers sink into his friend’s fur. “Came as soon as I could. Had to break through some Stark security to do it. Does anyone know where Steve is?”

All of them shook their heads when a deep pain filled cry came from a nearby doorway, leading underground. It sounded like there Alpha, in pain.

All of them bolted for the stairs, expecting to find there Alpha injured, but instead, they found a different scenario. Pierce dead, a pool of blood around the naked man, and Steve kneeling with his back to them. His shoulders shaking. Bucky and Nat looked at each other and flattened there ears, Clint speaking up. “Alpha? Are you hurt?”

Steve looked over his shoulder, his eyes burning yellow and growled loudly to warn them back. Clint shrunk back, and Natasha lowered to her belly instinctively. Bucky though padded forward, ignoring Steve’s warnings. The Alpha shifted on his knees to face his wolves, backing away with you limp in his hold, your head lolling to his shoulder and gave off another warning rumble. Bucky paused and shimmered back to his human form, kneeling in front of his best friend. “Steve it’s me. Were not going to hurt your girl. You need to get her some help, right? She looks hurt.” Another rowling growl warned him back, Steve's human side only here physically. “Clint, he took a jet. We can get her to New York, Stark has some of the best medical team.” Bucky inhaled deeply, smelling Steve’s distress and blinding fear that he had lost you. His fingers digging further into your flesh, if he held on tight enough he wouldn’t lose you, right?

Bucky shifted closer on his knees, growling back at Steve. “Enough of this, It’s me Bucky, and I wouldn’t ever hurt your mate.” The two alphas had teeth bared at each other in a struggle for dominance, but you happened to moan in Steve’s arms, your chest raising shallowly with your quick breathing and Steve lost eye contact with Bucky, looking down at you. Bucky leaned back a bit and said once more. “Let us help her, shes our packmate to.”

Steve’s eyes started to soften to his normal blue and his voice cracked as he gasped. “I just found her Buck, and I’m already losing her.”

“We might still be able to help her. She’s still alive.” Bucky said softly and coming up to his side was Kat, pulling a blanket with her and nudging it towards Steve with a soft whine, and that finally brought the Alpha around. “Get the jet ready Clint. We’re flying Y/N to New York.” Raising up, he grabbed the blanket and careful to wrap you in it, refusing to let you go or set you down. Bucky nodded to the others, Steve was back in control.

Wolves started to come down into the tunnels, others remaining above to check the grounds for stragglers, and while Caine found some clothes for everyone else that had shifted back, Steve was carrying you up when his name got called from deep in the tunnels. Natasha followed along with Steve who faltered hearing his name. “Keep going, Bucky can handle it.”

Going to find the source of whoever called, Bucky ducked his head into what looked like a holding area, cages of all sizes, empty scattered everywhere. “Back here…” One of the packmates said, and he went towards the back of the room, frowning when a feline scent hit his nose. “What the fuck?” he growled, coming up to the two wolves who were working on unlocking a cage, and he squatted down in front of it, peering into the shadowed spot in it.

Two sets of yellow eyes met him and a heavy hiss, a swipe of a paw with pinpointed sharp claws at the bars and Bucky cussed out of disbelief and frustration. “You have got to be shitting me. Get this cage open now.” The beasts drew back further, still hissing at him.

“Come on you two.” Bucky tilted his head and pried open the door once they wrenched the lock off. He gave a soft smile, shuffling back to give them room, and first one black panther cub, then the other inched forward, eyes darting back and forth scared of the wolves, which was understandable given the circumstance. Their claws unsheathed and kept giving Bucky hisses while flashing very bright white fangs at him. “I got someone who can take those collars off, what do you kids say?”

The kittens looked at each other, then back at Bucky, deciding to trust the Wolf. He was gentle as he held out a hand for them to sniff at, and then felt relief at the way one of them head-butted into his palm.

Steve carried you on the jet, Clint sitting in the pilot seat, watching silently for a moment before he swung around in the seat and started to prepare it for take-off. Natasha, slid into the seat next to him as Steve settled somewhere in the back with You. “As soon as Bucky comes on, we will be ready to go.”

“Gotcha Nat.” He fitted headgear on and started entering in the coordinates on the dash. Behind them, heavy boots thudded against the grating and Natasha looked over her shoulder to see Bucky carrying to black panther cubs in his arms. She opened her mouth about to ask and Bucky hefted each one under his arms. “Just fly, they are coming with us.”

Swinging back to Clint she shrugged. “Let’s go…”

“Ladies and Gents, hang onto your seat belts, we’re crashing in on Stark.”

In the back of the Jet, Steve let his hand smooth over your hair, pressing his mouth to your temple every now and then, whispering to you. “Come back to me Little One, you can fight this.”

But you just remained limp in his hold, unconscious to everything, locked in your mind. There you were trapped, alone for the first time in your life. The emptiness echoes your fears and sorrow, trying to answer Steve back while trying to find your Little Wolf.

Another state away, Brock paced with a cell phone pressed to his ear, Alanna watching him and listening with her keep senses. “Ahh, so Rogers finally killed Pierce off? Hydra will be upset they didn't get there White Wolf.” He listened and growled out into the speaker. “Pierce was getting to fucking sloppy. Loosing that Wolf who went running to Steve, not keeping his little side buisness’s hidden. His own fucking fault.” Alanna came in closer to Brock, resting her hand on him to ease his anger, but the wolf snarked at her to back the fuck up. She huffed out at him and left the room, go look in on there guest.

“Oh don't worry, I got what the White Wolf wants. He shall be here in no time, and I’m damn well ready for the asshole. As well as any bitches he brings with them. You just keep me updated what's going on.” Brock listened for a bit more and barked out a laugh. “Pierce actually used that on Y/N? Looks like Steve just can't keep himself a mate after all. Let the asshole suffer.” Ending the call, Brock wandered through the house till he found Alanna coming out of a bedroom and closing the door.

“She still secure?” Brock rumbled and Alanna shot him a glare.

“Of course, what the fuck you take me for Brock?” Alanna snarled at him and Brock glowered, fisting a hand into her hair as she went to pass him, and slammed her into the wall. '

“Show some respect for your Alpha, Or I will break it back into you. Steve did you no favors treating you how he did.” He snarled in Alanna’s face and as soon as her eyes fell, he let her go. “You should be happy to hear your ex lost another mate.”

Alanna hummed slightly, still shaking off Brocks treatment of her. “He was useless, probably the girl was as sick of him as I was.”

“Pierce gave her the injection, killed her wolf.” Brock grinned and Alanna barked at laugh, equally cold as her mate, destroying Steve Rogers was her only goal in mind.

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