#job-seeking is just so fucking crushing and humiliating

[chalkrevelations]

Man, no wonder Kanghan’s awful. He has zero consequences for anything he does. He tries to set himself a consequence – if he doesn’t pass all his exams, he doesn’t get a new motorcycle, which come on, rich kid problems to begin with, although a (small but) important step on his journey to find some kind of inner growth – and then his dad just blows right past that and undermines his attempt to set a goal for himself (since no one else will do it for him). Not to mention, his dad just up and giving him the bike for his birthday is as good as saying, “Heh. Well, we all know he’s not going to pass all his midterms, I’d be waiting forever to give it to him, if we wait for that.” What the hell happened when his mom died that this guy expects his kid to be a complete failure, and does he just expect Kanghan to live a rich dilettante trust-fund existence for his entire life?

I have to say, I do love the way the show sets up the bike revelation, with Kanghan being called outside in front of his friends, minimal and unsettling bg music, a kind of strained atmosphere that suggests he might be in some kind of trouble and that something unpleasant is about to happen – and something unpleasant is about to happen for him, and nobody’s going to get that except Sailom. Because, oh, let’s talk about Sailom for a minute – fucking brilliant Sailom, quick as a whip - who’s going to watch Kanghan not give a shit about the expensive presents that Max and Nawa bought, which show no understanding of who Kanghan is, and who’s then going to watch Kanghan’s delight in Pimfah’s portrait, Kanghan’s instinctive understanding of the time and effort she put into it, his appreciation of that effort. Sailom, who’s just listened to Kanghan admit that he wants to be able to put time and effort into something and have someone appreciate it. Sailom, who immediately realizes not only that Kanghan is unhappy about his father’s present (and that body language, Perth - man, I don’t know why everyone didn’t realize it, other than plot contrivance), but also why Kanghan’s crushed by the bike.

Sailom, who, OK, gives Kanghan a raided cupcake and a song, but whose real gift to Kanghan is this thing they’ve been dancing around the entire episode - when Kanghan asks him “What, do you want me to say I want YOU to be proud of me?”; when Kanghan does whatever tricks Sailom requires him to do, including humiliating himself in front of a bar full of strangers to get Sailom’s approval; when Kanghan admits to Sailom over crickets that he desperately wants to be able to put his time and effort into something and to get back his father’s appreciation and validation for it. Sailom’s real birthday gift is to say, OK, clearly these expectations and this validation you want aren’t going to come from where you’ve been seeking them, but what about if you could look for this from me? Will you accept it? Can I give that to you? Can I be the one who gives that to you? (Protip, Sailom: YES. He’s only been rolling over for belly rubs from you for half the episode, already.)

And here’s the thing, this could be a self-centered ask from Sailom, it could simply be about making sure that he’s successful at his job tutoring (now that Kanghan’s dad has taken away Kanghan’s primary impetus to study for the exams). This could be the flip side of the metaphor, that the way you train dogs is not with the kind of discipline that makes them aggressive, as Kanghan’s been taught, but with care and attention and approval and validation so that they want to work for you. It could be that - but we’ve also seen (written all over Chimon’s face earlier in the episode) that when Kanghan asks, “Do you want me to say I want YOU to be proud of me?” Sailom’s unspoken answer is YES. YES, HE DOES. He wants Kanghan to want to make him proud. So in this, they lock together like puzzle pieces forming a whole. It’s just that they had to be pushed to the crisis point of their fight over the bike key to be able to look each other in the face – looking at each other instead of off into the distance and not seeing each other when they were riding Kanghan’s scooter to the restaurant with mutually soppy looks on their faces but no mutual understanding – and recognize it. They probably still don’t actually recognize it, but they’re moving in the right direction now, feeling their way forward, instead of aimlessly circling.

[turtletaubwrites]

Bend Until You Break ~ Part 4

Thank you so much for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup !!🖤

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 3451

Ao3 Link

Summary: You are making good progress, but Law reminds you what your diagnosis means. The crush you have on your doctor is starting to crush you.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush), Needles, Drugs, Arguing, Massage, Praise Kink, Pain, Dissociation, Humiliation, Gaslighting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, (Implied), Birth Control, Menstruation, Discussion of Pregnancy, Brief/Implied Discussion of Sterilization Surgery, Teasing, Dom Trafalgar D. Water Law, Hand & Finger Kink

A/N: Oof, this one has a lot of emotions. And other things. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“How does it feel?”

Law was so close, the scent of him, and his little smile, bringing a sigh to your lips. 

“It looks like you’re feeling better,” he teased. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, hoping it wasn’t that fucking obvious how he affected you. 

But he has to know. He reads me so well. 

“Mm,” you sighed again at the touch of his fingers on your neck, the brace set aside to hopefully never be seen again. 

“Tell me if anything hurts,” he instructed as he put light pressure on that sensitive skin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you shivered. When you didn’t report any pain, his fingers started gently massaging your neck and shoulders for the first time since it happened. A week and a half? Two weeks? 

Right now you didn’t care that you didn’t know, you were just fighting not to moan too loud. 

“You’re going to be good for me, and be gentle with yourself, yeah,” he rasped close enough for his breath to tickle along your ear. 

“Mhm,” you promised. His hands and his voice had wrecked you once again, that warmth twisting low in your body, wetness easy to feel in nothing but your hospital gown. 

He pulled his perfect hands away, and before he could get a word out, you spoke fast, your voice almost squeaky with your need to change. 

“Can I wear real clothes now?

~

You wouldn’t have called them “real clothes,” but it was definitely an improvement. Law had called them “scrubs,” but they seemed more like pajamas, soft and stretchy. 

Very comfy. 

And perfect for moving your body however Law wanted you to. 

Perfect for you to feel the warmth of his hands through the fabric as he helped you stretch, and hold, and bend for him. 

“Good job today, Y/N,” he praised, gesturing for you to follow him. You sat beside him on the squishy loveseat he'd brought in for you. Anything to make this room feel less like a hospital. 

“How am I progressing,” you asked, still catching your breath. You tried not to notice the way his leg was pressed against yours as you turned toward him. 

That large hand set itself on your knee, and you tried very hard to focus on what he was saying. 

“We have a long way to go, but you are doing very well, Y/N. You’ve shown improvement in performing the exercises, and I’m impressed with how you’ve been moving. You’re putting weight on that hip when you stand, taking it slow. Learning to trust your body. It’s good to see.”

His words, his eyes…

You were melting, and you probably wouldn’t have heard the next few things he said if his whole demeanor hadn’t shifted. 

“What’s wrong,” you asked, feeling fear rolling in as his face went dark. He looked almost pained as he took your hand.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started, lifting soft, solemn eyes to yours. “I fear that I may not have been clear enough in describing your prognosis.”

Sick panic flooded your system, until all you could do was gulp it down, waiting for him. 

“I know we’ve discussed that this is a manageable condition, not a curable one. I just worry that I may not have given you the right expectations.”

“Tell me,” you managed to choke out, frustration lacing your words. 

“Everything you are doing and learning is going to improve your life and reduce your pain, just like I promised,” he comforted, tilting his head down toward you. 

“You remember that we can’t repair or replace connective tissue. We can only strengthen the muscles around it, and teach you how to listen to, and take care of your body.”

Your hand felt clammy as he held it now, and you nodded as you pulled it away. His lips quirked as he looked at your hand, but he dropped his own before continuing.

“I need to make sure that I didn’t give you false hope.”

The guilt and sadness in his voice loosened your shoulders.

He’s just trying to be a good doctor.

His eyes raked over you, a glint within them as if he was somehow comforted by your thought. 

“You will always have this condition. I'll help you make it better, so you never have to suffer alone like that again. But you can never know when something might slip out of place. You may feel fine for days, weeks, even months. But at any time, one of your joints could fail you, or some other complication could arise. These tissues run through everything.”

Law wasn’t like those other doctors. He believed you. He was helping you. 

But he’s right. 

“I just…” you choked out, hating that tears were already threatening to stain your cheeks. “I just tried so hard to find a way to fix myself. For so long. It all… Everything I–”

He caught you as the sobs began, letting your tears stain his shirt as you finally let it out. 

Law rocked and soothed as years of struggle and pain burned through you. Anger rose before grief crashed over you at the waste of all your energy, all your life. 

Just to have something you can’t fix. Can never fix.

“Let it go, Y/N. Let it all out.”

And you did. You had never cried like this before, sobbing, weeping, choking. Keening over the life you would never have. Practically screaming until you couldn’t breathe. 

Clawing at his chest as you pleaded, ‘no’s’ and ‘why’s’ being torn from your lips. 

Until finally, that fuzzy distance.

Suddenly, you were not you. You were something that floated slightly above that now slumped body.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can stay there as long as you need to.”

Your body was hunched over, curled almost upside down against him, and you barely registered it as he lifted you. He set you on his lap, stretching your legs across the cushions as he pressed you against him. The scent of him started to pull you back into your body, and you nuzzled against his chest, his warm arms holding you tight.

Holding you. Keeping you safe. 

“I’m sor–”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N,” he urged, voice quiet above your ear. “I’m sorry that this is something I can’t fix for you.”

You weren’t sure what kind of sound came softly from your throat before you felt the heat of his cheek as he pressed it against your hair. 

“If you have the energy for it,” Law started, sounding almost shy, “would you like a tour of my quarters? Get you out of this room for a bit?”

The answer was yes, except for the comfort of his arms around you. But Law had already pulled away, putting some distance between you. One hand still smoothed over your back, soothing and steady. 

“Yes, please.”

~

You didn’t know what you were expecting. 

Law sat against the armrest of his matching squishy couch as he watched you spin around. Words caught in your throat for a moment as your eyes passed over the large bed. Then the sight of him taking off that hat and ruffling his hair became very distracting. 

“So, what do you think,” he asked with a subtle smirk. He gestured to the room as you’d paused to stare at him for too long. 

“It’s uh…” you stalled, brain still trying to restart. “It’s weirdly clean.”

“Did you expect your doctor to be a slob” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“No, I…” 

A coffee table had clearly been set up as a work area in front of the couch, but even the stacks of books, papers, and pens were lined up neatly. 

“Is this where you work,” you questioned, taking one of his pens to fidget with.

“My office is through there,” he explained, pointing to a door across the room. “I’ve been working in here so I–”

“So you can hear me?”

You had stepped around that organized table until you were too close. Being in his bedroom was a bad idea. Just the awareness of his bed being so close made your body respond. 

This crush is going to ruin everything. He’s a good doctor. I need to stop.

But you had already moved in, looking up at him as you played with his pen, waiting for him to answer your question. 

“So I can help you,” he rasped, his inked fingers pulling his pen from yours. “Would you like to read one of my favorite stories?”

~

You felt high. 

Law had let you snuggle close on that couch, until you were giggling, feeling his pleased hums through his chest as you leaned against him. Gently holding the colored pages open so both of you could read.  

“So Germa 66 are the bad guys?”

Holding in another giggle at Law’s sigh, you cut him off before he could answer.

“I like his seagull.”

“Sora and his seagull and robot are the good guys,” Law explained, his serious voice so adorable as he talked about his comics.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s read.”

I’m going insane. He’s so cute. He’s–

After reading through the first few issues together your body reminded you that it fucking sucked. 

“Y/N, are you alright?”

Law set the comic aside to look you over, your grunt of pain interrupting your lovely time together.

“I’m fine,” you grimaced. 

“Of course,” he shook his head, standing as he walked toward his office. “I knew your cycle would be starting soon, I’m sorry I didn’t provide supplies sooner.”

Your face was burning when he set a box beside you. He moved his organized piles around so he could sit on the coffee table in front of you. His long legs left his knees higher than his hips in this position, and you tried not to grin. 

“Y/N, this brings up something else I’ve been wanting to discuss.”

Another cramp twisted your insides, lighter this time, but it seemed to echo your dread at his shift in tone. 

“Is there really more today,” you whined softly, only half serious.

“We can talk about it tomor–”

“No, please. I’ll just go crazy.”

His crooked smile made it all feel alright.

“I would like to add birth control pills to your morning regimen, along with your daily vitamins.”

That sentence seemed to swirl inside your body, leaving confusion and a hint of concern until another cramp snapped you out of it.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m hoping that it will help regulate your cycle. If I’m not mistaken, you must have extremely heavy and painful periods?”

“Y-Yes, how–”

“Your connective tissues can wreak a lot of havoc, I’m afraid. But whenever you’re ready to stop taking birth control, I can do that surgery for you in about 30 seconds.”

His sweet smile was too much, so you closed your eyes to think. 

You couldn’t think.

“What are you saying?”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he groaned at himself, your eyes opening to find him rubbing his hand over his face, his features lined with guilt.

“My bedside manner has been nonexistent today, hasn’t it?”

The self deprecating tone almost pulled you in, but you were falling into that distant space again, fighting to stay in control of your mind.

“What are you saying,” you repeated, sitting back on the couch, putting space between you. 

“I… I shouldn’t have assumed you came to that conclusion,” he admitted, stopping his hand before he rested it on your knee. “Given your condition, the pain, the weakness in your joints, the complications… and it’s highly likely that your pelvic floor muscles have been affected as well. I didn’t think that you would put yourself at risk like that.”

The silence was cut only by the metallic sounds of the Polar Tang. 

“We can talk about it, Y/N. I’m your doctor, and if pregnancy is something you’d like to pursue–”

“I wasn’t sure.”

The confession spilled out of you like a secret, the festering discomfort and shame leaving your body as it left your lips. 

“I didn’t really want kids. Then we got together and…” You paused for just a moment, the clenching of his jaw too intense to ignore. “He wanted to. And I felt like I’d be a good mom.”

“But,” he questioned, his hoarse voice making you shudder.

“But… I didn’t really want to. Especially with all my pain. Not knowing what it was–”

“Did he know how you felt?”

Law’s eyes were mesmerizing, heavy, pulling you to him. 

“He did. We talked about it a lot.”

His hand finally touched your knee again as he leaned closer. 

“He was going to destroy your body just so he could get what he wanted.”

Those extreme words felt wrong. You knew your boyfriend didn’t see it that way. You shouldn’t see it that way. 

But you did. 

Those words poured into you, filling you with an anger you never let yourself feel. And it felt good. 

Law nodded slowly, always reading you. Always knowing exactly what you need. 

“Do you want to get pregnant, to have kids?”

“No.”

That shameful word felt so freeing. No one in your life could understand not wanting that. Always asking when, always pressuring. None of them ever listened to your pain. Or worse, they’d brush it off. 

‘Oh, that’s nothing. Just wait til you’re my age, honey.’ 

‘Hurry up now, you’ll want to pop those kids out while you’re young so you’ll still be pretty.’

Fuck them all.

“I don’t want to have kids.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his fingers squeezing you gently.

He leaned in to brush a few strands of hair back from your face. 

“I love when you put yourself first, Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”

~

Another week passed. Maybe more?

Still didn’t matter. 

“There are always modifications,” Law explained again, but you didn’t mind the repetition.

Not when his hands lifted your thighs, placing rolled up towels on the outsides to hold them in place. 

Those towels kept your hips from stretching too far, from going loose. But your legs were spread wide, your knees pulled close to you. 

With Law. Law. 

He was there on the mat, between your spread legs, and you couldn’t hear a word he was saying. 

“Y/N,” he rasped, making your breath hitch as he leaned toward you. 

“Show me where you’ll breathe for me.”

The heat of his body fell over you, even without his touch. You set your hand on your stomach, a tiny, needy moan leaving your lips when his tattooed hand covered yours. 

“Good, can you breathe for me?”

Law kept his hand on your stomach, but placed the other beside your head, caging you in. 

You want to scream, to beg, to claw his fucking clothes off.

He’s my doctor.

Your weak mind repeated that daily, but every day chipped away at your will. 

He’s the only doctor that can help me.

“Y/N,” he teased, that little smirk so close as he hovered above you. His black hair fell gently toward you, framing his face. “I don’t think you’re breathing at all. Should I be worried?”

Panic hit you as you felt his effect on your body, slick pooling between your legs.

You reacted by trying to close your thighs, to keep him from seeing.

But all you did was wrap your thighs around his waist, and the contact arched your back, tearing a moan from your lips. 

Your body slumped, frantic ‘I’m sorry’s’ flooding from you while you covered your face with both hands. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Are you feeling alright,” Law asked, with only the barest hint of humor in his voice. But it was enough to make you cringe, your skin flushing more than you thought possible.

His heat left the air above you as you tried to melt into the floor. 

“Oh,” he said softly, and you opened your eyes to see him looking down. 

“Have you not been taking care of your needs?”

All you could do was shiver, closing your thighs too late. 

He sat on the ground beside you, leaning in to study your face while his looked almost stern.

“We can’t make progress if you’re not relaxed Y/N,” he scolded, those words he’d said so many times crashing through you. “Why haven’t you been taking care of your body?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost lost to pure need as you shook beneath him. 

“Don’t say sorry to me. It’s your body that we’re working so hard to take care of. Now, why haven’t you– fuck. I’m sorry.”

His apology brought your eyes to him. 

“It’s my fault, isn’t it? You know you can always ask me to close the vent when you need some privacy. Just make sure to let me know when you’re done, I’d hate it if I wasn't there when you needed me.”

The thought of asking him for privacy when you wanted to touch yourself made you want to pass out from embarrassment. 

Another cry tore from your lips as he grabbed your wrist, stroking his long fingers around your skin. 

“I imagine it can be hard to keep up with your needs when your wrist acts up, huh?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Hm… I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t have any toys to provide you with relief. I’ll make it a priority to search for a good option when we reach the next island. Does that sound alright?” He had breathed those last words against your temple, pulling nothing but whimpers from you. 

Law brushed your hair aside, humming softly. 

“Is it that bad, Y/N? Is your body aching?”

“Yes… please…”

“Please,” he asked, his tone too intense, fear running through you. “Are you asking me to help you with this?”

Desperate tears fell down your temples, caught by those pretty fingers.

“Remember, Y/N, all you ever have to do is tell me what you want.”

“Please, help me. Law, oh gods, please…”

“I need you to be clear, Y/N. How do you want me to help you?”

You almost sobbed, your body curling in on itself. 

“Okay, how about this,” he started, sounding just as he does when he’s teaching you, guiding you through exercises. “I’ll ask, you answer, okay?”

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

Your ‘yes’ turned into a breathy moan when he grabbed your face, pressing into your jaw as he made you meet his eyes. 

Those eyes, trapping you again, his parted lips like a hint of the gift you were about to receive. 

“Do you want me to help you come?”

“Yes, Law, I need you…”

He had never looked so pleased, and the sight of his face made your eyes roll back. 

“If I’m going to help you with this, it’s important that I know what you want,” he purred, pulling his hand off your chin to hold it in front of your face.

“You like my fingers, huh,” he teased after watching you stare at them again. “You want to suck on them, don’t you?”

The amount of desperation in the moan you let out would have horrified you if you weren’t so close to getting what you needed. 

Law caught your chin again with his other hand, the teasing look turned serious.

“I knew you would. You need to take care of your body, Y/N. Give it what it wants. You want these,” he asked, showing you the fingers with ‘E’ and ‘A’ inked across them.

“Ye–.”

“Then take them.”

He didn’t wait for you to finish, just shoved those long fingers into your open mouth while he gripped your chin to hold you in place. Your hands tried to dig into the mat beneath you, your body squirming with pleasure already. 

“Mm, I knew you’d suck me so well, Y/N. It’s just my fingers, and you’re already giving me everything.”

His praise drove you further, licking and sucking his fingers as if you could pull them inside you, keeping his touch forever. 

“You gave everything for so long, didn’t you? Why don’t you let me take care of you now, okay? Let me show you how your body works.”

He was thrusting his fingers into your mouth, tracing around your lips, then shoving deep. You let him do what he wanted, just as you always did. 

“Do you want to listen to me,” he asked, his voice gone thick and dangerous. “You’re so good at following my instructions. Will you do that now, Y/N? Will you trust your doctor, and follow my orders?”

He took his fingers back, dragging your spit down your cheek while you moaned. 

“Yes!”

“Mm, good girl.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Don't worry, I've been writing these fast 😅

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Part 5

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

[diaco1968]

Altair x Reader

Warnings! Smut, lemon, unprotected, a bit of choking, bit of humiliation, sounds a little dub/non con in the end

Note: I just realized I've written nothing for my first and longest crush, none other than the arrogant grumpy assassin! Sorry for the slight ooc-ness, I get weird writing about him...

Also amazing art! It's thanks to this, I've been visually crushing over this man for the longest time! *^*

Artist

"Wanna blow off some steam, Assassin?"

He could still feel your hands all over him, the feeling of your touch;

Your fingers running up his abs, tracing his chest, running over his shoulders, nails lightly scraping the back of his neck before they carded through his hair finally coming to a rest in a tight demanding grip on the back of his head.

It was unlike whatever he was used to.

The girls in the garden. They just did what they were assigned to do. Though they were obedient and submissive, they didn't claw at him like they desired him.

It was unusual.

It was exhilarating.

It was wrong.

It had been one of the rare occasions where there was a brief pause in the conflict between the assassins and the templars. A moment of peace that kept you all from jumping at each other's throats while their mentors and your commanders talked out their differences for a mutually beneficial truce. And of course they both had the option of having their choice of bodyguards accompanying them.

That was how he first met you. In person and eye to eye. With a distance of less than a rooftop, even less than a swords lenght, apart.

He couldn't get it off his mind now.

You had heard of him, seen the havoc he had caused in your ranks without even being seen. And he had seen you before as you barked orders at your little pawns and cut through his less experienced brethren with no mercy.

Always from afar.

Maybe that was the reason you colided hard the moment those roles were gone and out of the way. Attracted by the differences like day and night.

So when you cornered him alone with that very suggestion you were met with little to no resistance as you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips onto his. You demanded and you took as you pleased, making him bend to your will and despite his arrogant self, he liked that. He liked being wanted. The way you had him on his back in moments, straddling him so full of confidence. You were quite a skilled rider too.

Had him wondering if he had finally met his match?

Now as he stalked in the shadows waiting for you to make a wrong move, he wanted to take back. He wanted you. He had spent weeks being distracted time and again by the memories of your little encounter, now that he was so close to you again he couldn't help but drown deeper and deeper in his inner conflict. Thess were slightly different times, what if you rejected him? It would be so embarrassing... and he couldn't just kill you off if you did, that would harm the truce...

He shook his head as he caught himself thinking nonsense again.

Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent...

You were a templar though... did you count?-

He didn't have time to measure your innocence as your pawns left to do something you ordered them to and finally you were all alone. All his. Easy prey.

A hand wrapped around your arm, twisting it behind you as he pulled you into the alleyway and slammed you front first into the wall.

"You've become too dull."

"Have I really?"

That was when he noticed you didn't use your other hand to brace yourself on the wall. The little sharp pain in his side from the blade threateningly pressing into him was proof enough.

"You'd still die anyway. So, yes, you have."

He let go of your arm and you turned around to face him in the very little space provided by his arms caging you to the wall, teasingly grinding your ass back onto him. He of course suppressed the little hiss in response, not wanting to give you the satisfaction.

"You think I dismissed my men because I'm dull and not because I saw a certain assassin lurking around in the shadows?"

He narrowed his glinting golden eyes at you.

"You are bluffing."

You chuckled as you wiped at your scraped cheek to ease the stinging.

"What ever helps your ego."

You could see his scowl even from under the hood casting shadows over his face that complimented his features, as he loomed over you, completely silent. His sunkissed skin, sharp bones, haunting eyes, defined scar over his lips.

"You are in templar territory, what do you want, bird?"

His grimace at the nickname had you smirking triumphantly. Why did you have to know their language... it was annoying.

"Don't call me that!"

"But that's your name."

You looked smug and he didn't like that but you didn't have all day for the yarn of his ego to untangle on it's own. You reached up, slipping your hand inside the hood and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to you so you could whisper in his ear.

"Or do you prefer, Eagle? Am I your poor little prey this time?"

He could feel the goosebumps rise over his arms as he growled in annoyance, your voice rolled over his skin smoothly.

"If you were, you wouldn't live long enough to mock me."

"Flattering."

Your smirk widened, nipping the side of his jaw and pushing him off a whole step before he could react.

"Come, boy."

"... tch..."

Clicking his tongue he wondered if this was all worth it any way as he watched your form striding down the alley, taking his time before he decided to follow you.

To an abandoned building, top floors almost burnt away, leading to a giant hole in the roof opening up to the skies. At the entrance you grabbed his hand cause he was hesitating to step in.

He would have preferred more hospitality... like your own quarters maybe...

He didn't have time to ponder as you pushed him back on one of the few surviving furniture, before straddling his lap.

... a long wooden bench... in a burnt building with cold stone wallls...

"We're in a church!-"

You were already half way through his robes, heavily dropping the weapon belt on the ground as you looked up at his anxious expression, scoffing.

"And? Are you a religious man, Assassin?"

He glared at you but you had a point. He just didn't expect such disrespect from you. Were you not fighting as part of Richard's army?...

"You're shameless."

"Shame is a weakness. You didn't seek me out beacuse I am a weakling now, did you?"

You plopped down on his now not dangerously armed crotch and his hands shot up to grab your hips and steady you.

"Who said I seeked you out? I was just in the area for a job."

"Ouch... you mean you killed off one of my men and came to add insult to the injury?"

He paused as you paused staring down at him. Well maybe he didn't choose his words right. He wasn't good at lying on the spot.

"That's hot."

At this point he had no idea if you meant the things you said or if you were being sarcastic. But he didnt care as you started grinding down over him.

Like last time.

Oh hell no.

He flipped you, so now you were lying on your back looking up at him surprised.

"Not this time. You are mine now."

"Oh? Fine then, show me what you've got."

You almost immediately regretted that as the pit in your stomach deepened not only from excitement but from fear as his fingers wrapped around your throat tightly, nudging your legs apart to settle between them. As you let him discard your clothes, it was probably the first time it downed on you. The danger you were in. He could actually kill you. And no one would know. Kill you and leave you there disgraced and dishonored with no one to know where to look for you.

You wheezed loudly, clutching the wrist of the hand he had wrapped around your neck, your train of thoughts derailed as he unceremoniously thrusted himself into you.

His fingers left your neck, to fist in your hair instead, arching your neck so he had more room as his lips met the delicate skin, his stubble scratching you pleasantly. You grabbed the back of his neck, pressing his face deeper into the crook of your neck and he didn't mind endulging you, sucking and nipping on the skin, combined with shallow slow thrusts had you arching and twisting under him, trying desperately to get more friction out of him. He gripped your hips tightly, pinning you down and restraining your movements.

"I said you'll be good and do as I tell you to."

"That is not what you said."

"Don't test me, (y/n)."

He growled in your ear, his voice rumbling from deep in his chest and you were not about to argue with that as you hummed in response and decided to oblige.

He briefly pulled out of you, only to pull you up and dropping you on your knees on the stoney ground. With a hand on the back of your neck he had you face down, arse up and he plunged himself back into you groaning at the way you twitched around him eagerly with a loud wanton moan.

His other hand grabbed your hip to keep you from jerking forward while he drilled into you, completely different from his earlier pace.

"This is what you want after all. To be fucked like a little bitch with an important audience."

Between your moans and scratching at the ground in pleasure mixed with pain you didnt have time to wonder who, until he grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back against him so you were facing  the old crushed cross behind the altar.

"...you fucking basta-geh!"

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, down your throat, deep enough to make you choke and gag around them.

"I'd watch my mouth, if I were you."

He resumed kissing your abused neck, fingers thrusting in your mouth, creating lewd wet noises and heavy moans.

You were close, he could tell. You were constricting around him so tight he almost released a few times if not for the way you bit his fingers angrily. But he wanted you to finish first. Wanted you to whimper and beg as you just couldn't anymore.

He sunk his teeth in your shoulder and that was it for you. A high pitched mewl and you were clamping down on him violently as your release shook you to your core, slumping over him as he slowed down ever so slightly.

Then he let you drop on your front and resumed his brutal pace, seeking his own release now, disregarding your half hearted protesting sobs.

It didn't take him long and he finished over your ass, panting heavily as he watched your shaky body, get used to the abuse way too quickly as you rolled over underneath him to shoot him a glare.

Awkward silence engulfed you both as he got on his feet and even helped you up with a hand and you both started fixing up your clothes and putting your weapons back in place.

This was not how it ended last time. The silenece made him wonder if he did something very wrong. If your little forbidden rendezvous had come to an end because of him. If it had, it was probably for the best but... he felt a pang of sadness thinking about it. Oh how he wished for you to open your smug mouth and say something. Anything.

"I think we can both agree, I am better off in charge."

"You wish, Templar."

"...well... yes, I do. That's the whole reason behind our ancient conflict, Assassin."

[athrialuxegna]

Stronger than she thinks - Part 1

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

I hope you guys will like this story, I wanted to translate my main fanfiction “Broken Glass”, but this plot came out and I wanted to write it, so here it is!

Part 2

Fanfiction | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

It had been a week since his dirty hands had touched me. My soul seemed to have vanished since then. My smile was long gone same as the spark in my emerald eyes. My life took a tragic turn because of Brent. He was Eric's consultant and I was Harrison's. So I had to work with both of them from time to time; it was horrible to face the bastard.

He raped me, humiliated me, and dishonored me. And there was no way to brought justice upon him. If I spoke to anyone about this, everyone would turn their back on me. Dauntless was all about being strong to stand up for another and I failed to defend myself. Nobody would count on me, I'd be a loner or worse I could end up factionless for my cowardice.

Hopeless and lost, I wandered the hallways. Keeping my eyes glued to the ground, I avoided everyone. My emotions were upside down. It was unnerving to feel that weak. Brent broke me deeper than I thought. The memories swirled around my mind day and night. The feel of his body on mine, his hands all over my skin, his lips on mine, his low grunts, the excruciating pain; all of this haunted me.

I couldn't forget myself. I should've done something, anything to get rid of him. I'm glad to be off duty for a few days. Harrison knew me too well to not notice that something was wrong with me. I've spent a lot of time with all leaders during my training. I pretty much get along with everyone, even Eric, sort of.

I annoyed him less than most of Dauntless. We could have decent conversations and we even had joked around one another at some point. That's what turned Brent against me. He couldn't stand how Eric would listen to my observations and opinions more than his. Jealousy was dangerous in a crazy man's head.

My footsteps carried me to the empty training room. This was huge, full of various pieces of equipment to train and get stronger. The punching bags were in the farthest corner. I went to one of them and began to punch over and over again. My forceful punches echoed on the rough fabric of the bag which scraped my knuckles every time. Brent's head replaced the bag in my mind; it made me feel so good to imagine blood all over his face.

As my knuckles opened to let blood flow, the door opened and closed itself with a loud creaking noise. I let out an annoyed sigh while my fist crashed more harshly on the orange bag which swung back and forth under the impact. I was proud that my technique had improved since my initiation here. I was strong and proud or so I thought. I felt agonizingly weak since last week. Heavy footsteps resonated through the room and stopped near me. I didn't steal a glance at whoever it was; I couldn't care less right now.

"If you want to lecture me, I suggest that you do it later" I warned, punching the bag again, splitting my knuckles further.

"You're going to break one of your knuckles if you carry on like this."

The cold voice couldn't be mistaken it was Eric in flesh and bones.

"Never mind it will heal as every wound. Why do you care Eric, don't you love when blood drips? My knuckles are fine, I am fine. Everything is fine!" The last part was practically shouted.

"Excuse me it's so obvious. You radiate of joy it is overwhelming even for me." Sarcasm was dripping down his low voice. "Seriously Chris what is it this time?"

"I don't need a babysitter, so would you please leave me alone." I countered back, plunging my eyes into his steely irises.

"No." His voice boomed across the room. "I'm done with you and your petty tantrums. Can't you just spit it out? Something's bothering you lately, and it's different from your daily annoying self." He sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

I noted he did it a lot when he was around me. It was clear that it was to avoid jabbing me in the face. Nonetheless, his words bothered me. Did he also notice something wrong with Brent? I hoped not. Eric was too smart and I feared that he already had put some pieces together.

"I'm sorry Eric but I didn't sign up in Dauntless to become a tree hugger by spitting my feelings to you," I said rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Do I look like some peacemaker to you? I'm here to warn you. The leaders are talking a lot about you lately. Your odd behavior is questioned and it will get you fired sooner or later. And I can't save your sorry ass for much longer."

What did I do to deserve Eric's help? The question remained as I weighed my next words. His warning sounded more like a promise that he'll ditch my ass next time. Losing my job was no bother now, I would be happy to get permanently away from Brent. My life was not what it used to anymore anyway, so losing my job was a detail at this point.

"Thanks, Eric but you're not obliged to save my sorry ass. I don't ask for any favor." My smirk didn't please him judging by his frown.

"Don't play this game with me, Chris." His threatening voice sent shivers down my spine. "Now, would you tell me what's going on?" Now his voice held a foreign concern.

The silence stretched some time. I couldn't find the right words, ones that will not raise any suspicion. I struggled to breathe evenly under his watchful stare. Eric would not let go now. I was fucked no matter what.

"I can't." My voice merely a whisper. "I have to deal with it by myself." I bit my lip, unsure if it was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

His hand moved to settle on my shoulder. The contact made my body stiffen. I couldn't stand being touched since my rape. My eyes closed instantly and I shuddered. When I opened them Eric was a few feet away. I could see the cogs turning in his mind. I was ready to bolt away from him to escape the suffocating tension when he spoke again.

"Sometimes you have to rely on someone to move on. It's not cowardice to admit when you need help."

I didn't have time to react that he was already walking away. I watched him until the door closed behind his retreating back. What the hell just happened? Someone must have bewitched Eric that's the only explanation for his human reactions. I promised myself to avoid him like the plague from now on.

My best friends, Jenna and Kate, decided to break into my apartment to confront me. I suppose they were upset that I avoided them for the last few days. Nobody should know this though, not even my friends since childhood. I felt horrible to walk into them, sitting on my couch, hands crossed over their laps like mothers ready to lecture their child. I felt guilty and ashamed seeing worry plastered on their usually cheerful features. That was certainly not my day. Everyone seemed to seek answers I wasn't ready to give yet.

"Chris you can't be ghosting us anymore. Please tell us what's going on." Pleaded Jenna.

Her reaction was out of her character which indicated that she was more than worried about me. Jenna was the wild one, always up to something, a real bundle of energy. Now she looked tired. Dark bags adorned her vibrant brown eyes and her skin looked paler than usual. My gaze fell on my carpeted floor and I let out a quivering breath. I was the worst friend ever.

"I can't tell you what's going on. I'm so sorry to worry you this much but I need some space and time right now."

My poor explanation sounded wrong. I heard loud huffs then deep sighs. Was that the end of our lifelong friendship? No. I refused to lose them because of Brent, because I was afraid and a fucking coward. My head shot up just in time to see them getting up, ready to leave. Kate's baby blue eyes bore into me as she shook her auburn hair in disappointment.

"I thought that you trusted us. That we were sisters. We're meant to share our secrets and support each other no matter what. We've vowed to always be there for one another, but you don't let us. We don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to do to get my best friend back." Her soft voice cut through me.

I stared at her. My mind was a plain blank page. The deafening silence crushed me. Indeed, the worst friend ever. I couldn't let them be there for me because it would destroy them. I knew it was a false excuse. I wouldn't handle the whispers, the pointed looks, the rumors. I would be the girl Brent-raped. And I wasn't going to let it happen if I could prevent it.

"Say something, Chris." Ushered Jenna.

I look at them mouth agape, not one sound came out of it. Kate sighed then made a sign for Jenna to follow her out of my apartment. I felt my heart broke into pieces. I've lost my sisters' trust. Tears were drained a while ago.

I took my old guitar which sat in the corner of my bedroom. A gift Jenna and Kate gave me for my twentieth birthday. The memory drove me back to the past. I've spent the night playing sad melodies, trying to soothe my aching heart. I remembered my life before this horrible night. It was so easy to live back then. I hoped tomorrow would be better or I could lose my sanity.

[nomoregoldfish]

Imagine catching Amado building secret airport in the jungle; Enemies to friends /w benefits (2/2)

This one goes out of my hands. I don’t even know what kind of monster it is now, smh. The formatting seems screwed up. Please read it on AO3 if you want. Again, if tubmlr flag the gif below, I’LL RIOT.

"Is this a date? What's the dress code? Cargo pants don't count." Amado sounds flirty when you call him the other day. It's not really his fault because you are the one who asks him out.

Since the formidable drug trafficker hasn't sent any sicario to make you disappear, you figure you still have chances to make him reconsider the plan of building an airport. You're willing to do whatever it takes to save the jungle and the ruins.

Plus seeing Amado again is not a bad idea.

You can't justify why you ignore your go-to outfit including cargo pants. Instead, you put on your tightest jeans.

You pick up Amado at four in the morning. The tall man looks sleepy and slightly confused, which is kinda cute. You offer him black coffee in your vacuum bottle. 

After the first sip, Amado turns to you with his misty down-turned eyes, "No cargo pants today?" You try not to smile, "Shut up."

You're taking him to the Palenque ruins, another Mayan site in Chiapas, just few hours drive away.

You manage to get there before the sunrise. The site hasn't opened yet but you know a secret route because you also worked on the excavation project there. 

"You have a thing for sneaking in, uh, Ms. Geologist?" You shouldn't encourage him but whatever, the banter is... fun. 

Walking with Amado in the dense mountain forest actually is a perfect date in your dictionary. Your shoes are wet with morning dew but nobody cares. Listen to birds chirping and fogs croaking in the dim light. 

"You're really not afraid of darkness, are you?" Amado sounds genuinely curious. "Why would I be? I worked on this site for years, I've known the whole place by heart." He nods, like some acknowledgement.

It's almost dawn, you look at the tinted horizon when you reach the top of the mountain. The entire ancient city of Palenque is quiet and peaceful wrapped in the jungle, reminds you why you chose what you do with your life.

"I want to show you something." It's the Temple of the Inscriptions, one of the most iconic Mayan architecture lightened up by the morning sun. Starting from the history, you explain to Amado not only the symbolic significance of the temple and the secret tomb inside, but also the epic war Emperor Pakal waged against Yaxchilán. 

Amado doesn't stop you. You keep talking, sharing your involvement in those excavation projects with him, how excited you are when a new site is discovered, how proud you felt for your team when Palenque was recognized as World Heritage Site not long ago, which meant more funds, more human resources, and better equipment for all scientists working on it for years. You want to continue to study the whole area, even several rival/ally sites in Guatemala and Belize, to find more satellite cities, battlefields, to be able to define the border of those ancient powerhouses and finally draw a map of the mysterious kingdom.

He looks at you like you're some kind of heroine. It's heartwarming but you're not sure, "So, what do you think?"

Amado's playing coy, but you're persistent. "Come on. I'm a geologist. I can't hire assassins. What else am I supposed to do to make you change your mind? Put on my most expensive dress, show off my ass, wine and dine you?"

"Though I'd love to see you in a nice dress, jeans are great, too." The northern banditote smirks, eyeing your lower body, "Plus the whole speech, I told you I love it when you talk about your job. You seem to know exactly what you're doing."

Amado doesn't promise anything. He says he'll figure something out.

You exhale deeply. At least the guy listened, you appreciate it. 

Then you find out there's nothing left in your vacuum bottle, the fucker drank all your coffee, "How am I supposed to drive back without any coffee in my system?"

Amado pulls you in for a kiss, warm and tastes much better than your shitty coffee. The fresh stubble overnight of his stings and it feels so good, you can't help cupping his face and kissing back. 

Then he announces he'd drive if you just say "El Señor de los Cielos, please." You tell him to fuck off but toss the car key to him anyway.

You haven't contacted each other after that for a while. You tell yourself it's nothing. It's not like you two have had something. 

You send people every week to monitor the construction of the airport from a hidden spot on the mountain. Meanwhile you complete the scan of the area surrounding the soon-to-be airport and find a possible target. You have to be on the ground again to confirm it. 

Unluckily you break your ankle one day in the jungle. And you don't want to put any colleague's life at risk to get near the cartel's territory. You decide to wait on Amado, you believe he's a man of his words. 

Amado surprises you one night at your camp. He jokes that a geologist can sneak into a drug cartel's property, it'd be humiliating if he doesn't return the favor. His face and neck are perfectly tanned, you want to immerse yourself in that hot chocolate. You almost jump out of excitement because you haven't seen Amado for a month. Then you remember you're confined to your desk and seat due to the injury. 

"You're expecting someone else? Ms. Geologist." Amado sounds a bit down. "I..." You want to ask him so many things. Has he figured it out? Who is in charge of the airport when he's away? And where has he been? Why does it take him so long to come back? Maybe minus the last question. It'd sound desperate. 

He says he flies from Juaréz, "One of the longest domestic flights," he claims as looking around your tent office, sketches and maps scattered all the place. When his eyes meet yours again, it's so gentle, full of fondness.

"You only want to talk about business?" He's getting close, "I just fly almost 2,000 miles and you're not even standing up. Look who's more cold-blooded than drug traffickers."

Before you realize what happens, Amado lowers his body and carries you off the chair. He doesn't touch your ankle but it still hurts when you're suddenly moved.

Amado finds out. The man in black examines your injury carefully. You never saw him so concerned before. He quickly comes to the conclusion that your injury is worse than it looks and needs better treatment. 

No, you're not gonna leave your job. You have papers to write, new budget to apply, more areas to explore. Slowly it'd recover.

"Don't you want to wade across rivers, trek through jungles, and climb mountains again? If you love your job so much, you have to get better treatment, immediately! And take some good rest. Give it a few more weeks? Oh God, you're insane." He's so mad at you.

You finally agree, and Amado insists on carrying you again to his vehicle. You know it's not your priority right now but holy fuck, he's fucking built. And you're inches away from his big nose which you've had a crush on for a while.

He's gonna fly you to the state capital Tuxtla Gutiérrez.

"You don't fly 2,000 miles just to see me, do you?" You poke him during the flight, sitting next to the sexy pilot in the cockpit is a treat. 

"Dear Ms. Geologist, remember I have a job, too?"

The pain is getting worse, Amado notices it then hands you a joint from nowhere. You're about ask whether it's legal to have weed on the plane, then you realize you're with a real drug dealer. "Not to bad to have a narcos friend, huh?" OK, you gives him that as the weed kicks in. 

"So now we're friends?" You're obviously high, and bold. Because you find your hand dangerously near his groin for no reason, fumbling. "I always wanted to touch it." You giggle. 

Amado politely removes your hand and tells you to behave.

"You know what? You could've been the most popular guy at our camp. Someone might trade blowjobs for your weed since we're just low-paid scientists and assistants." You're high like a kite.

You also "threaten" if Amado extends any further in the jungle to build more airport facilities when you're put away, you swear to God you'll...

"You'll what? Shut up and rest, cabrón. Or I'll take you directly to DF, better physicians there anyway."

And the fucker did, a day after a Chiapas physician suggests you seek the best orthopedic treatment in DF for speedy recovery.

Then Amado disappears again. You know he's probably running a drug cartel in the north, and only checking in on their hidden project near the southern border once a month or two. It's the way it is. Your lives only collide when it's meant to be. There's no fucking way you two see each other like normal people do. 

You still miss Amado, miss the banter, even his northern accent. 

During the two-month therapy in DF, you receive reports that the airport is completed, and the potential target site nearby is now a giant warehouse. You also learn a big donation is made specifically to the Yaxchilán excavation project, of course, anonymously.

That's what Amado meant by "figuring something out." You're not even mad. What's the alternate outcome when you're up against the narcos? Report it? The entire cabinet is probably in their pocket. You should be relieved that no one ends up dead during the little stupid game you played.

You can't even return the drug money because, a) you can't tell anyone where it's from; b) INAH's been underfunded for decades, the project fucking needs it, so do your colleagues.

You call that number again after you get back to the ground. You don't know how to end this, or is there anything to end? 

"Come over next weekend, I'll be there and I can explain." Amado sounds poised and calm, like he always does.

You tell yourself to keep it civil. This is a losing battle since day one.

Amado meets you in front of a warehouse, he looks great, all charming smile and open arms. All you can think of is the location of the warehouse, it must be the one. Most likely it's being buried.

"You bring flowers, how nice." It's the white birds of paradise, which suits him, El Señor de los Cielos. You tell him you're grateful for the injury advice he insisted.

"Can I show you something?" Amado opens the door of the warehouse. It all feels like yesterday, when you showed him the sunrise at Palenque, talking about your future plan. How naive were you.

Some jaw-dropping scene in front of you. The entire site of ruins, intact, locked inside the warehouse with minimal structure to shield from the rain and sunshine.

"What? You thought I'm gonna show you cocaine? No offense, baby, you can't afford the Colombian white magic. This is all you get, some fucking broken rocks with barely recognizable inscriptions." The bastard shrugs.

How did he find this site? "Sorry. Let's say I accidentally took a copy of your scan map last time at your camp, when you were busy with your ankle problem." You fucking knew it, it's never what it looked like when it comes to Amado Carrillo Fuentes.

Yet you can't believe what you just see. It is NOT real. It can't be.

That's when harsh reality kicks in. It always starts with a but. "You can't work on it, not now." Amado explains the situation and his plan for your ruins, which he thinks it's better to keep them under the radar for now. No tomb raider would dare to approach it, you can work on many other sites first.

"Then what?" You keep digging. Amado sighs, giving you a melancholy smile, "This line of work doesn't tend to last very long. It will be yours one day. Before that, it's completely safe. You have my word." 

Amado's kind of.... correct, and practical to be honest. INAH doesn't have enough resources for thousands of projects. Even with the hard work you and your colleagues pulled, it's estimated less than 10% of the total area of Palenque was explored and partially restored.

You carefully examine the site, making notes and sketches to create a hasty profile.

Amado focuses on something else, "It seems you walk just fine. Fully recovered, no rush? Good. And has your budget been approved? Got more money? I mean, the efficiency of any bureaucratic system is questionable in this country. If it still falls short, I can...." 

You can't tell if he's been an asshole or a saint, God forbid.

"For fuck's sake, I don't want your fucking money. I just, I want...." You turn around, look defeated, "Your dick, OK? Who cares about your dirty drug money? You Sinaloan monkey!"

Amado bursts into laughter, "Why don't you take both, dear Ms. Geologist?" He put your hand below his belt buckle, "I think you made it very clear last time."

"It's your fucking nose, narizón." You gently caress it, and he's getting hard beneath the fabric and it's fucking huge.

You're on your knees, trying to take Amado's full length in. Fuck, it's difficult. You're embarrassed and he's like "Shhh, it's okay, baby."

Instead, Amado's going down on you, making your knees weak af. You have to grab the stones to stand still. 

Amado eating your out with patience, salt and pepper stubble rubbing against the most sensitive part of your body which gives you more trouble, and fingering you at the same fucking time. Let that sink in for a moment.

You don't stand a chance, you come so hard.

Amado's taking you from behind, big hands on your hips to keep you still against the ancient structure. Rock into you with deep, short thrusts. You're wet for him like rivers during monsoon season. 

Your legs are shaking when he hits right at the spot again. "Wanna to make a good girl like you squirm and scream." Fuck, Amado always gets what he desires as he pulls you hair up, leaving hickeys on your neck while he fucks you thoroughly.

The best orgasm through your whole life. And the fucker is proud of it, "Told you. You'd better take both, baby. The green and the big D."

Does it mean you really gonna take money from narcos? This is so fucked up. 

Later Amado fixes you some nice margarita, casually asking if you want to join him for a business trip to Belize the next day. "I have to buy some stuff in Belmopan. Maybe we can stop by Lamanai with my private jet after that if you'd like."

How the fuck does he know you wanted to visit the Mayan ruins in a remote foreign town for years? 

The concern becomes less shocking when you see Amado buy a bunch of Boeing 727s in Belmopan like a Sunday grocery run.

[captainofthebrokentides]

About Bloody Time! Michael Ragosa x OC

Ok so this is a long and gratutiously fluffy little story. I hope it doesn’t babble too  much, i got a bit carried away. As you can probably guess, it’s set during the episode parenthood! Please enjoy the candy floss sweet fluff. Let me know what you think!!

Bella didn’t think she had ever seen Ragosa so stressed. Not when he was administrator, not even the day he called her from his office crying because his eye surgeon had found a tumour.

At least then he’d talked to her. He’d talked to her way into the day, after their shift had finished. He'd cried and poured everything he was feeling into her in that moment, holding onto her so tight his knuckles were white. And Bella had been there for him, as best friends should be. She’d sorted through treatment plans with him, driven him to the operation, and had been there when he’d woken up from the anaesthetic. She waited on him, hand and foot in his home while he recovered, and they binged on ice cream and comedy movies.

She would prop him up and support him wholly when he came to her with his problems, but she couldn’t deal with the weird tense silence that was currently following him around.

He hadn’t even said hello when they were in the locker room together that evening. He’d just flung his bag into the locker, slammed the door and put his phone straight to his ear.

Now she stood behind the nurse’s desk, watching him as he paced back and forth on the other side of the wooden doors. Talking in quiet, heated Spanish on the phone.

“He alright?” Jordan asked, leaning up against the desk. Jordan had always been nice to Bella from the day Ragosa had gotten her the job and introduced her to the team.

“No. see that flexing thing he’s doing with his right hand? It’s a stress reaction. He used to do that a lot while him and Lydia were divorcing.” He was indeed opening and closing his fingers into a fist at a steady pace by his side. “He used to do it while we were at med school together too.”

Bella strained her ears, to see if she could pick up what he was saying.

“You can’t do this to my daughter, it’s her party in two days … I’ll uh … I’ll pay it off in instalments.” His head was drooped low in defeat. The pay cut down from administrator had really been doing a number on him, he could barely afford his rent and child payments to Lydia, he mostly ate at Bella’s house because she knew he couldn’t really afford to shop, but was too proud to mention it.

“Please, I’m begging you!”

Bella quickly left the nurse’s station and made her way over to Ragosa as he hung up and angrily slammed his fist into the wall, an angry, dejected look on his face.

“Michael” She said smoothly as she came up behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her with sad eyes.

Jordan, who was still watching the display raised her eyebrows, and he raised his hands up to her “I’m sorry Jordan.”

“That’s ok” the dark haired doctor said with a soft smile. “Take 5?”

Ragosa nodded and leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed. He let out a painfully shaky breath.

It hurt Bella to see him hurting so much. Michael was doing so well, living his life the way he wanted. He was supposed to be happy. She trailed her hand down from his shoulder and took his hand in hers. She gave him a little reassuring squeeze. “You wanna grab a coffee? You look like you didn’t sleep much?” she asked gently, her words only loud enough for the pair of them to hear.

He opened his beautiful dark eyes, that were full of worry and gave her a weak smile.

“You know what I’d really like?” he was slightly hoarse. He rubbed his thumb over hers where their hands joined. “I’d like a hug.” He looked up at her through his thick dark eyelashes. He looked like a defeated little boy, and it broke Bella’s heart.

“How about a hug and a coffee?” she posed, grinning at him, opening her arms wide for him.

“Deal.”

 ***

“So” Bella blew on her latte, hoping to cool it down. They were sat on the roof, with their feet dangling over the edge. A place you would never have found him a few months ago when he was administrator. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Michael shuffled uncomfortably and knocked his head against the railing, he opened one beautiful brown eye and gazed up at her sadly. “I just lost the venue for Naomi’s birthday”

Now Bella understood. “Her Quinceanera?”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, frustrated. “Mmmhmm, just with the pay cut and everything, it adds up. I maxed out all my cards. I have no money Bel.” He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. “I’ve got two days Bel. I can’t fix this …” He looked down at his hands. “I can’t fix it.”

Bella’s heart hurt, watching the strong, wonderful man crumple like a wet tissue. She didn’t know what she could do to take his hurt away. She laid her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze.

“She’ll be crushed Bel. She’ll never want to talk to me again. Lydia will kill me.”

“Heh. I never liked her.” Normally he’d have smiled, or come back with a quip about the feeling being mutual, but he just stared at the ground, pained. “I’m sorry sugar. I love you, and your kids.” She reached into her bag and took out her purse. Without a second thought, she handed him her credit card. “I don’t know how much is on here Mikey …”

He cut her off, pushing her card back to her, the look in his eyes was grateful.

“I can’t take that Bel. You do enough for me. I know how much you’ve scraped together on that card. You need that to live. Not bail me out of my problems.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, his lips lingering on her skin longer than was probably appropriate for a kiss between best friends. “Thank you though. Your offer means the world to me. But I got myself into this mess, I’ll get myself out too.”

She blinked, trying not to feel hurt that he was taking on all the burden himself. “I’m here if you need me though. Don’t freeze me out, alright? You know I’ve always got your back.”

He gave her hand a little squeeze and offered her the most confident smile he could muster.

A wail of sirens broke them moment as three ambulances can screeching into the bay below them.

“Duty calls.” He said, standing and offering her his hand for balance,

Bella grumbled good naturedly and accepted. “And I haven’t even finished my coffee.”

 ***

A flash of orange and obnoxious clicking of high heels caught Bella’s eye, as the angry woman and teen stopped in the hallway where Ragosa was stood talking to a few colleagues. Bella and Jordan were going through and entering patient data onto the system not even a couple of feet away.

“Dad, is it true we’re not having my birthday party?”

“Ouch.” Jordan whispered, looking at Bella whose eyes were glued to the scene in front of her.

“Of course she’s here, she’d do anything to hurt and humiliate Michael.”

Jordan chuckled. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

Bella narrowed her eyes. “I never have.” She clenched a fist and struggled against her urge to storm over there. “She accused us of having an affair. Dumb bitch.”

Jordan raised her eyebrows, “Really? Well I guess you and Ragosa are close. And I could see it. I think you’d be cute actually.”

Bella didn’t say anything, but watched with gritted teeth as Michael tried to fight his corner against his angry ex wife and distraught daughter.

“I’m not taking crap for this Michael, you call and tell everyone it’s cancelled.” Lydia stormed out of the emergency room, not even glancing in Bella’s direction.

“I can’t believe this.” Naomi followed her mother, with her head down.

“Naomi! Honey!” Ragosa tried, but they flat out ignored him. He looked tired, unhappy and defeated. Bella’s heart hurt for him again.

He left the waiting room they had been fighting in and trudged over to Bella. His dark eyes brimmed with tears as he looked at her. “I fucked it up Bel.” He leaned into her like a small child seeking comfort. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair soothingly, breathing in the fresh scent of his aftershave. “She’s going to hate me forever. I promised her everything. I’m such a bad father, I chose to follow my dream, but its going to alienate her.”

Bella pulled him away from her and held him at arm’s length, insisting he hold her dark gaze with his.

“You, Michael Ragosa, are not a bad father. You’re anything but.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shushed him quickly. “Who are the people you think most about in your day? Every day?”

He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, but still maintained her eye contact, “My kids, you, my mother.”

She wanted to blush and cheer that she was in that list, and that she was always on his mind, but she pushed it down. “Exactly, your kids. They mean the world to you Mikey, and you try, you’ve been through so much, but no matter what you do, you fight for them. And that makes you an amazing father.”

“But the money”

“Money isn’t everything Mikey. You’ve always put everything on hold, for the whole fifteen years I’ve known you. Now it’s time for you. You get to explore who you are, and all the things you missed out on.”

Ragosa nodded, and wiped his eyes. “You’re right. I put off getting my eye surgery. I dropped out of med school – if I’d have carried on I wouldn’t be training in my 40s. I married the wrong girl.” His dark eyes flicked up to hers on the last item on his list.

Bella swallowed hard. He had married the wrong girl. During their days at med school they’d had so many near breakthrough moments where they should have thrown caution to the wind, kissed and confessed their love for each other, but they didn’t because he knew Lydia was safe and familiar. He didn’t want to risk his heart being broken.

“And you’re fixing it all, right?” she held her breath, unsure how he’d answer. She knew she’d never fallen out of love with Michael Ragosa over the years, even when she was engaged to her ex, which is why he was ex.

He looked at her with determination on his handsome face. “I’m trying.”

Bella nodded and gave him a soft smile. “How about you leave it to me? Let me talk to Naomi, you know we get on like a house on fire.”

He cupped her cheek in his hand, smoothing his thumb over her skin, and looked into her eyes. “love you.” His eyes were glassy and tears threatened to spill out of them.

“Love you too.” And she really did, he was her best friend, and she meant it wholeheartedly. “Leave it with me.”

He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and grabbed a stack of files from the nurses’ station. “Check in at 3 for coffee?” he asked, walking backwards and still smiling at her.

“Of course, go on, go … before Topher has your ass for dawdling.”

“You know, I kind of see why she thought you were having an affair.” Jordan’s whispering voice cut through Bella’s reverie, she’d completely forgotten the dark haired doctor was stood there, watching the whole exchange.

“Jesus Jordan, I forgot you were there.”

“Yeah you were far too wrapped up in the Michael and Bella show.” She grinned good naturedly, letting Bella know she was only playfully teasing. “Seriously though, you two have so much chemistry, what happened? Why aren’t you together?”

“There was just never a right time, and then he married Lydia, and now it’s too late.”

“Says who, you never got married, you’re both single now …”

Bella sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It’s complicated. When you’ve been in unrequited love for what, eighteen years, it’s a hard pattern to break. But I’m still here for when he needs me. I always will be.” She thought for a second, tapping her fingernails on the desk, “Jordan, I know Michael and TC have had their differences in the past, but would you two help me?”

Jordan smiled at her widely and slammed a folder shut. “Of course, leave the venue to me. I’ve got a few contacts.”

Bella felt her heart swell. “Thank you Jordan, I really appreciate it.”

Jordan shrugged “What are friends for? And right now, Michael needs his friends.”

“That he does.” Bella confirmed, digging her phone out of her pocket and dialling Naomi’s phone number. After a few rings the teen picked up.

“Hola Bella.”

“Hey Naomi-bean.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m looking at a birthday gift for you honey, what’s your dress and shoe size?”

***

When the clock ticked round to 7 am Bella found Michael standing at reception, he looked tired and worn, with black bags under his eyes.

“Hey you, you ok?” she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“Mmhmm I got one thing right tonight, I found the pacemaker Kristin needed.” He shrugged, half hearted.

“That’s a great job, don’t undermine yourself.” She gave him a squeeze and he turned in her embrace, so he could slide his arms around her.

“She’s right, enough of a pity party out of you.” Jordan said as she came up to stand beside the pair of them. “Everyone is going out to dinner tonight, why don’t you come?”

“Are you going?” Ragosa asked Bella, he turned his face to look at her. They were so close their noses touched and their breath mingled.

“Of course I’m going, dummy, and so are you. You need it.”

Michael smiled and rubbed the tip of his nose against hers in a sweet gesture before diverting his attention back to Jordan.

“I’m buying!” she said, in a sing song voice, hoping it would convince him more.

“Well if you’re buying, then I’m in.” Jordan grinned triumphantly. “I do have to go home and get some rest though.”

“I think that’s a good idea Sugar. You look exhausted.” Bella ran her fingers through his dark hair, and he closed his eyes enjoying the gesture.

“Are you heading home now?” he asked her.

“No, I’ve got a few last minute rounds and care plans to go through with Jordan, then I’ll head home.”

He nodded and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek, too tired to argue. “Ring me later?”

“Of course, now get out of here, Mikey, before you get roped into the day shift too.”

“Ok Ok, bye.” He headed towards the door, waving at them as he left, shoulders heavy and head slouched.

Bella and Jordan waited a minute, to make sure that he was actually gone before rounding up the remaining nightshift members.

“Ok guys! First, I want to thank you all for your help. I know Michael will really appreciate it and be grateful that we’re treating him as family.” Bella started, there was a murmur of agreement that rippled around the gathered doctors and nurses.

“So you’ve all got your assignments from either myself, Bella or Kenny.” There was nodding all round. “We don’t have very long to pull this off, So let’s work together and make this amazing!”

There was a cheer in response.

“I think we can do better than that!” Jordan heckled and held her hand behind her ear. The staff obliged and cheered louder.

Bella felt a warm fuzzy feeling of happiness and excitement building in her belly. She had a long day ahead, but every moment was going to be worth it.

 *** 17:00 ***

“You won’t let me go in?” Michael asked Bella, as he looked past her to the double doors of the Dew Drop Inn, that had been blacked out. “What’s going on?”

Krista and Drew came through the doors carrying pale pink balloon displays and placed them on either side of the entry way.

“I told you to leave it to me, didn’t I?” Bella laughed, her smile warm, as she held Michael’s face in her hands, keeping his attention on her. “Well me, and a few friends.”

The doors opened and almost the whole of the night shift spilled out into the entry way, dressed in party wear.

“What did you …” Ragosa breathed, his eyes widened, but he was cut off by the roar of motorbikes.

Bella dropped her hands to hold his and indicated the swarm of motorbikes coming towards them.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Bella was smiling like a maniac as the realisation dawned across Ragosa’s handsome face.

In the middle of the parade of Bikes was TC, with Naomi clinging onto his jacket, but grinning and having the time of her life. Everyone around the whooped and cheered as the entourage came to a halt in front of them.

Michael opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, speechless.

“You did this?” When he found his voice, Michael was astounded, his tone showing how impressed he was. He linked his fingers with Bella’s and squeezed.

“We all did, Mikey. You’re part of the family now. We look out for each other. And you know I’d never have let you go through this alone.” She squeezed his hand back and indicated Naomi who was getting off the back of TC’s bike. “I think your attention is supposed to be over there.” He walked towards his daughter, but looked at her again over his shoulder, dark eyes sparkling.

“Thank you. All of you!” He raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, they all whooped and hollered again in response.

TC lead Naomi over to Michael and he wrapped his arms around her in a big hug. “Happy birthday sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head.

“This isn’t what I’d planned, but it’s still pretty cool!” the teen shrugged happily. “I got to ride on a motorcycle!”

“I see, I see” Michael said, eyeing TC with mock reproach. “Well I hope you enjoyed it, because it’s the last time you will!” he kissed his daughter on the forehead lovingly.

“But Bella used to have one, when you were in med school … You said she looked hot on it …”

“Oh-kay! Enough of that.” He cut her off with a wink and wide eyes. Bella, blushed and laughed.

Lydia cut her way through the crowd, glancing at Bella who fidgeted uncomfortably. “I’m not going to say I’m not still mad at you Michael, but you have some pretty amazing friends.”

Michael nodded at her, but didn’t say a word. He was determined to not spoil his princess’ special day.

“Ok everybody, let’s go inside!” Jordan shouted ushering everyone through the doors.

Bella stopped Michael and Naomi at the door, “You two have a wardrobe change. They’re hanging up in the bathrooms.”

Naomi made a squealing noise and pushed through the crowd desperate to get to her new dress.

Bella turned to go inside, but Michael grabbed her hand, holding her back so they were alone in the courtyard. “You never cease to amaze me. Do you know that?” He uttered, smoothing a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

“Everyone deserves to be happy Michael.” She took the palm of his hand in hers and placed a kiss in the centre of it. “Even you.” Breaking the moment with a bright smile, she pulled him towards the doors. “Come on, we’ve got a party to attend.”

He shook his head and followed after her into the building, chuckling to himself.

 ***

Bella had also changed, once the party had gotten underway. She wore a intricate gold 50s style swing dress, with matching shoes, which splayed out nicely on her bar stool as she watched Michael and Naomi perform their father daughter dance.

“They look happy.” Jordan said, claiming the seat next to Bella, and grabbing a drink from the bar top.

“They do, we really did an amazing job. Thank you for all your help. I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you for all of this.” Bella waved her hands around at the bustling room where everyone was chatting and dancing happily, Michael and Naomi in the centre.

“There’s no need. We’re a family. It’s what we do. Though you could do one thing?”

Bella drained the last of the champagne from her glass and placed it back on the bar. “What’s that?”

“The next song, you can get up and dance with him. Tell him how you feel.”

“I … can’t … I” Bella stumbled, shaking her head. Jordan reached out and took her hand kindly.

“You keep saying that Michael deserves to be happy. So do you. And I think nothing would make either of you happier, than if you realised how much you love each other.  Even an idiot could look at the two of you and realise you’re meant to be together.”

“She’s right. I’ve never seen two people I think should be together more.” TC agreed, coming over and stealing a mouthful of Jordan’s drink.

“I completely agree!” said Krista popping up from behind the bar and giving Bella a wink.

“Are we talking about Bella and Ragosa’s obvious chemistry?” Topher asked, joining the little group.

Bella laughed uncomfortably. “Where did you all come from?”

 The end beats of the song Michael had picked for their father daughter dance came to an end, and Naomi gave her father a hug, splitting off to mingle with her friends, who were ooing and ahhing over her pink silk and taffeta dress. Michael looked over the little group of his friends by the bar and grinned happily. He walked over to the DJ, talking to him quietly.

 “Never mind that. We think you should.” Drew agreed, passing new drinks out to everyone.

“You make it sound so easy. We’ve both been through so much.”

“And that’s why you need eachother.” Jordan countered with a knowing smile.

The opening beats of the next song started to play, and Bella felt her heart swell, and tears form in her eyes. Michael smiled at her from by the DJ, starting to cut his way through the crowd towards her.

“What?” asked Krista, seeing the dewey look in Bella’s eyes.

“He remembered.” Bella laughed, sniffing slightly. “’When you say nothing at all’ by Ronan Keating, I told Michael once I loved this song, and it would be my perfect first dance …”

“Do you need more of a sign?” Topher asked jokingly, dodging out the way when Bella swatted at him, laughing.

“May I steal her away?” Michael’s voice commanded her attention as he stood in front of her. their friends all nodded avidly. “Dance with me?” This time his question was aimed directly at Bella. His beautiful dark eyes searching for hers and his hand outstretched for her to take.

She took it without a word and let him draw her body into his. He wrapped one arm around the small of her back and held her and in his. Their faces were so close they could feel one another’s breath on their cheeks.

“You remembered.”

“Of course I did Bel, I remember everything you’ve ever said to me. You’re so special to me, you know. Whenever I need you, you’re there. You’re my shelter in any storm.”

They moved gently around the dance floor.

“You know when I tell you I love you, I mean it. Not in the platonic, you’re my best friend love, even though, I do and you are. I love you. I always have.”

She stopped them from moving, and leaned against him, looking up into his eyes.

“I’ve always loved you too. You are my person, you know that Mikey.”

Michael, smiled, and leaned down pressing his lips against hers, in a tentative kiss. Bella grabbed his lapels and pulled him to her, deepening his kiss. He wound his fingers into her hair, as he slid his tongue over her bottom lip, begging for entrance.

Cheering erupted from the night shift staff, and Bell and Michael pulled apart, looking at each other sheepishly.

“It’s about bloody time!” Naomi called from across the room with a big grin on her face.

@reelovesbennycolon​

[libraryscarf]

here’s the fic i wrote for the promare charity e-zine, spark of hope. all the proceeds went to the nsw and qld fire services.

^^^

the ignorance of lio fotia ( ao3 )

^^^

“I think you’re mistaken.”

Lio gazes sternly across the table at Gueira and Meis, who both look somewhat shell-shocked. He can’t exactly blame them. Their display of ignorance is a bit humiliating.

“Boss,” Gueira says incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Dead so.”

Lio takes a delicate sip of coffee from a mug printed with the declaration: I ♥ FIREFIGHTING

Meis settles his elbows on the table and leans his chin on his interlocked fingers: his debating posture. Lio sighs, setting his coffee down.

“Spit it out, please,” he says. “And my break is over in six minutes, so try not to wax too eloquent.”

Meis cracks a smile, mouth full of shark teeth.

“Oh, I don’t think it’ll take that long, Boss.”

Lio’s eyes narrow to slits. This really is a waste of time. He could have been drinking mediocre coffee in silence during his short break, rather than holding the world’s most pointless argument with his two erstwhile subordinates.

“Five minutes,” he bites out.

“Gueira,” Meis says quietly. Gueira produces a clicker, and a translucent screen shimmers into view above the table between Lio and the other two. Projected onto it is a familiar face grinning down at him. Lio frowns.

“Subject One,” says Meis. “Galo Thymos.” The words GALO THYMOS erupt across the projection in bright red block letters.

“Subject Two,” Meis continues. “Lio Fotia.” Lio beholds his own face next to Galo’s, his name blasted in the same bright red font.

Then, the on-screen Galo turns to look at the on-screen Lio, and his eyes explode into hearts.

“I rest my case,” Meis states, leaning back in his chair as Gueira clicks the hologram off. Lio looks between them, speechless at the shared idiocy of two of the smartest people he knows.

“That was your argument?”

Gueira, unable to contain himself any longer, slams both hands on the table and rattles all three of their coffee mugs.

“Boss, he couldn’t make it more obvious without tying himself up in a big bow and mailing himself to you,” he says, struggling to moderate his voice.

Lio, consummately unimpressed, takes another sip of coffee.

“I will say it only once more: you two are mistaken,” he says in a measured tone. “Galo Thymos is not carrying a torch for me.”

Gueira slumps facedown on the table. Meis pats his back comfortingly.

“Boss,” he says. “Please. Think about it. Think about it very hard.”

And to his credit, Lio does think about it.

He thinks Galo is one of the loudest, friendliest, most sanguine people he’s ever met.

Lio thinks that Galo is a person who shows affection through physicality. And he also thinks that Galo feels affection towards a great many people. He shows it in the way he ruffles Aina’s hair when she passes, or slaps Varys’ shoulder after a particularly heroic mission, or hoists Lucia onto his shoulders so she can reach the top shelf without climbing onto the counter. Galo has an astonishingly large heart: one that seeks others, and is indiscriminate in its efforts to warm and be warmed.

But Lio cannot afford to misappropriate any warmth Galo has directed his way. He doesn’t think his own heart—the stunted, anemic thing it is—could weather a disappointment.

“All right,” he says. “I’ve thought about it.”

“And…?” Meis leans forward. Gueira’s thick eyebrows furrow in anticipation.

“I think I’ll give you both double shifts if you have enough time to make slideshows about my love life.”

: : :

To their credit, they don’t bring Lio another visual aid. But the next time Meis and Gueira corner him, it’s with Galo himself as the test subject.

“Hey. Boss.”

Lio pointedly does not look up, his eyes scanning the claustrophobic text of the Promepolis Post’s front page. Galo is all the way over on the other side of the room, doing something loud and unnecessary to his Matoi with Lucia’s enthusiastic assistance.

“Boss!” Gueira’s whisper is urgent.

“I’m reading.”

“No,” Meis says. “You aren’t.”

Lio reluctantly folds the newspaper.

“Do you two ever actually do any work?” he demands, matching their low voices.

Meis arches a graceful eyebrow. “Deflecting already, Boss?”

“I’m not deflecting,” Lio growls. “What is it this time?”

Gueira just grins as Aina walks into the room, tossing her Burning Rescue jacket onto the couch.

“Just watch. Hey, Aina!”

She looks up, then comes over to their table. Her eyes dart between Meis and Gueira, and then to Lio, reading the silent tension.

“What’s up?” she asks, almost suspiciously.

“Why don’t you tell the big guy he did good out there today?”

Aina narrows her eyes. Gueira’s face splits into an even wider grin.

“Galo?” she asks. “Why?”

Lio snatches up the newspaper again, stuffing his nose in it.

“They’re worse than bloodhounds, Aina,” he says from deep within the pages. “Just do whatever it takes to get them off your scent.”

Aina, thoroughly baffled, turns around.

“Hey, Galo,” she calls out. “Good job out there today!”

Galo stops fiddling with his Matoi and looks up. Lio hazards a glance at his face, and nearly goes blind from the smile on it. He sinks back into the newspaper, heart crashing against his ribs like a caged animal. That smile is a public health hazard. Surely there are laws.

“Thanks, Aina!” Galo replies. “You too! You should show off your fancy flyin’ more often.”

Lucia taps his elbow, returning his attention to something Matoi-related, and Aina glances quizzically at the three former Burnish.

“Any of you feel like telling me what that was about?” she asks.

“Not really,” Gueira says. “But thanks!”

As Aina walks away, muttering under her breath, Lio’s head emerges from the newspaper.

“I can only assume that had something to do with your absurd hypothesis.”

Meis rests his chin in one palm, his eyes full of cold deliberation.

“You forced our hand, Boss.”

Meis cuts his eyes over to Galo, who seems, if Lio’s interpretation of his gestures is accurate, to be pressing Lucia to add a laser-cannon to his Matoi Tech.

“And now it’s your turn,” Gueira says.

Lio balks. “Wait, wh—”

“So Boss,” Meis’ voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the air like a scythe through wheat. “What was it you were saying earlier about that big lug’s firefighting technique?”

On the other side of the room, something metallic hits the ground with a deep clunk, like a wrench being dropped.

“Yeah!” Gueira chimes in. “How did you put it, exactly? I can’t seem to remember the specifics.”

Lio wishes he could still summon hellfire to his fingertips, because both his former generals could look a bit less delighted at the way Galo has abandoned any interest in his Matoi Tech.

“Did I mention anything of the sort?” Lio grits out. “Or are you sure you didn’t just imagine it?”

Meis and Gueira are struggling to keep their composure as Galo unsubtly maneuvers himself into better earshot.

“No, Boss, you definitely had thoughts,” Gueira says weakly.

It doesn’t take much to untangle their little scheme. They asked Aina to compliment Galo first, so Lio could see his normal response. Apparently they expect his reaction to Lio’s praise to be a bit more spectacular.

They are fools.

Lio sighs. It’s a shame, really, that his friends’ intelligence departed along with their Promare.

“Very well,” he breathes. Then, in a voice barely above a murmur, he says: “Yes, I suppose Galo did a fine job toda—”

Lio’s voice chokes off as Galo materializes next to the table, his expression rapt.

“You do?!” he cries out, overjoyed.

Gueira makes a bizarre noise, like a strangled cat, and vanishes under the table. Meis steeples his fingers and hides the lower half of his face behind them.

Lio stares up at Galo. Everything inside his head evaporates, replaced by high-pitched, keening static.

“Do I…what?” he asks numbly.

It’s so hard to think with Galo’s abs just. Right there.

“You think I did a good job!” Galo looks like someone has just offered him unlimited free pizza, and also the moon.

“Well,” Lio manages to say, “You did.”

Meis and Gueira are both making odd sounds, and in the small part of Lio’s brain that isn’t buzzing, he realizes they’re trying to suppress laughter.

“I’m so happy!” Galo proclaims, as though his blinding smile doesn’t adequately communicate that.

The wheels of Lio’s mind slowly creak back into motion.

Yes, he has to acknowledge, it does seem that Galo…greatly values his feedback. As a colleague, of course.

Because that’s really what they are: colleagues. Possibly friends, Lio admits. Friends, who have in the very recent past piloted a planet-sized mechanical monstrosity fueled by fire and human spirit, and maybe…perhaps there is a little affection there, but nothing more.

“I think you did a wonderful job too, Lio!”

And Galo grips him by the arms, lifting him bodily out of his seat and pulling him into his chest. Gueira and Meis flee the room, cackling like hyenas.

“I think you do everything wonderfully!”

“Galo,” Lio wheezes as he’s crushed against Galo’s solid pecs. “Ow—”

After some squirming, he loosens Galo’s grip on him enough to stare him dead in the face.

“Put me down.”

Galo’s eyes go wide.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

Galo gently lowers him until his feet touch the floor again. Lio straightens his clothes, then squares himself to face Galo.

“All right. What the hell was that?”

The ecstatic look on Galo’s face slides into a hesitant, kicked-puppy expression. Lio’s heart promptly rips itself in half.

“I just—” Galo says, right as Lio jumps in: “Never mind, it’s fine—”

They stare at each other, locked in silent misery on two sides of an invisible wall.

“For fuck’s sake!” Lucia explodes. Galo and Lio both jump. They’d forgotten she was still in the room. “This is a thousand times worse than watching Remi try to waltz with his alligator girlfriend.”

“Really?” replies Aina, who has been on the couch the entire time. “Because that was pretty bad.”

Before Lio can ask “what alligator girlfriend,” Galo cups his face in his (large, warm) hands.

“I’m sorry I lost my cool there, Lio,” he says earnestly. “I just thought…maybe, at last, you had…”

“Had what?” Lio asks, his voice weak and punched-out.

“I thought you were finally starting to like me.” Galo’s eyebrows scrunch together, adorably. “Back, I mean.”

In the recesses of his mind, Lio wonders if Galo accidentally choked him into unconsciousness and this is all a dream.

“Like you…back?”

“Yeah. I thought I was being too obvious about it—I mean, everyone told me I was being really aggressive, so I tried to dial it back, but I’m not good at that, and…”

Galo’s voice fades into static, because Lio’s brain has turned to water. He wouldn’t be surprised if it melted right out his ears.

Obvious. Aggressive.

“Idiot,” whispers Lio.

“Yeah,” Galo says sadly. “I guess so.”

“No. Not you.”

Galo’s eyebrows scrunch even closer together. He’s still cupping Lio’s face.

Lio doubles down.

“I’m going to do something now,” he says. “That I think will save us some time.”

He goes on tiptoe, and presses his lips to Galo’s.

It’s a peck, really: quick and chaste, but Lio still feels like he jammed a fork into an electrical socket. As they separate, the look on Galo’s face suggests he feels something similar.

“You’re right,” he says, gravelly. “That does save time.”

“Should we save some more?”

Galo, temporarily mute, nods, and pulls Lio in for a considerably longer and less chaste kiss.

Lucia cups her hands around her mouth and hollers: “Yooo, everybody, it’s finally happening!”

Aina chides: “Come on, they don’t need everyone watching.”

Lucia just guffaws. “Sore because you owe me twenty bucks now, huh?”

[ribbonsed]

To Build A Home: An Ode To A Certain Enigmatic Crow

Disclaimer: Okay before proceeding, please note several of these things:

These are merely my headcanon, being my headcanon, these are how I view Lin’s actions for this season.  THIS IS SO MESSY OK I'm so sorry for any of you bothered to read this mess, I'm not a writer I'm dying I love Thunderbolt Fantasy so much;

I’m an annoying Lin Xue Ya stan and apologist first and foremost, and needless to say that this headcanon will be heavily centered on him. I do love and attached to ALL characters and puppets on Thunderbolt Fantasy, and I would gladly write for every single of them if only my knowledge, my time and my creativity reservoir would allow me write any worthy piece for them. But I can’t help to get this out of my head, and for now, this will do for Lin;

I can’t help but notice Lin’s actions especially during the course of Season Two, especially his breakdown after failing to trap Xiao Kuang Juan’s prompted me to write this. So, the start point of this headcanon will be from there. Also, I’m beginning to start building this headcanon in the middle of watching Season Two, and I start writing this after Episode 11 Season 2 and added a little bit after watching Episode 12. So I might be going a little back and forth with the timeline so please do bear with me;

I can't speak nor I can read Chinese/Mandarin and Japanese. Thus, I can't understand Thunderbolt Fantasy on its original language, so, all materials I use for reference on this headcanon will be based on from translated materials in English (the show, the movie, the manga, wikipedias, news articles, etc.) and I apologize if there are mistake on from my understanding of translated material (whether is it because of my lack knowledge or because of mistranslation or just misinformation altogether, let me apologize first here);

trigger warning: mild curse words (lmao I can't be civil);

tldr: Lin Xue Ya is getting way way more softer in Season Two compared to previous materials (The Movie, Season One) and here is my take on why is a certain Wandering Tired Man Way Too Soft and Too Good For This World is responsible for that

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Lin's visible foul mood over Xiao Kuang Juan outsmarting him by refusing to go back to Xi You over the course of Episode 11 Season 2 doesn't make all that much sense to me on first glance. Why? Because no matter how hard I think about it, it just doesn't make sense that Lin would get 'that' mad just because Xiao refusing to go back to Xi You. I mean yeah, Lin got the taste of humilation and defeat on Season 1 finale at Mie Tian Hai's hand where the latter literally killed himself and broke Tengyouken, depriving Lin of tasting his complete, successful scheme of stealing Mie Tian Hai's pride. That's where we saw Lin Xue Ya, the notorious Enigmatic Gale, for the first time ever, truly losing his composure and his vulnerable, emotional side breaking through an ice-cold, unpenetrable facade he has been keeping for the whole course of Season 1.

So, this is where it got tricky to me. Does Lin Xue Ya really learn nothing at all from his whole fiasco with Mie Tian Hai? Does Lin Xue Ya, is really so above himself that he flat out refuses to use his defeat on Mie Tian Hai as a lesson learned to avoid him the same mistake on near future? Does Lin Xue Ya, the infamous, great thief and trickster across Dong Li did NOT, even consider, just freaking once, of the possibility of Xiao Kuang Juan, a high-ranking, corrupt, shady, military official that is powerful enough to cross The Wasteland of Spirit, making a choice that would thwarted his plan over? Wouldn't a great, high-functioning schemer like Lin Xue Ya know first thing first that things would not always go like the plan, that there is always a possibility after a possibility, a single stone that could overturn the flow of the river. Why is the emo breakdown, Lin?

This is also highlighted by the fact that, unlike Mie Tian Hai who straight up killed himself, making Lin stripped of another chance at fucking him over again, Xiao Kuang Juan is literally, still alive. Dude is literally still out there, alive, breathing, running amok. Wouldn't a calm, reasonable, level-headed choice here would be playing along with Xiao newfound plan of starting over in Dong Li, let him do whatever he pleases, then strikes him, humiliate him when another opportunity strikes. Doesn't Lin also has upper hand with this would-be scenario, since The Enigmatic Gale knows Dong Li inside out like the back of his own hand. So, why not wait, Lin? Why not let Xiao slip this time, giving him the illusion of how easy to escape persecution of his own crime and to start anew, to crush him later when the time is prime. Are you really that upset, that your plan got thwarted so easily, Lin? Are you? Why the rush, Lin?

Another comparation to Mie Tian Hai case, where Lin waited until the very last, opportune moment, to confirm it himself clear that Mie Tian Hai utmost pride was his sword skill, and him collecting fancy powerful holy sword is because he wants swords worthy enough for his skill. Doesn't it indirectly implies that the whole cave scene of Episode 11 Season 2 basically Xiao Kuang Juan confirming it himself that his pride does not lie with his wealth, status, nor title back in Xi You? Xiao Kuang Juan flat-out admitted in Episode 11, that he is glad he is still in Dong Li where his stolen goods is currently being exposed on Xi You now, that he is glad that his head is even still intact and attached to his body right now. Interesting part of their whole conversation in the cave excerpted here:

Xiao Kuang Juan   : Whatever, it doesn't matter. If anything, it's a relief. If I've lost all my prestige and authority, I at least don't have to act like a pompous jackass anymore. I can take things easy from here on out.

Lin Xue Ya                : What's gotten into you? Are you feeling alright, Sir Fugitive Hunter?

Xiao Kuang Juan   : When you deal in dangerous and dirty deeds, you've gotta know when to give it up. Sure, I was hoping I could score enough loot for early retirement first. But, whenever you make the long, risky gamble, you've gotta realize that one wrong play, and you'll end up going bust. If anything, I'm just glad my head's still attached to my shoulders.

Wouldn't his very confession infers that, Xiao Kuang Juan treasures his own life, his own survival, no matter how wretched his soul is, how many life he stole, how many wealth he embezzled, more than anything else? So, if Lin's initial goal of sending Xiao Kuang Juan back to Xi You along with his corrupt deeds failed because he mistakenly certain that man's pride lies within his boastful honor and titles in Xi You Imperial Army, wouldn't The Hunting Fox confession on that cave just confirms that Lin is just mistaken about his pride all along? So, why the big fuss, Lin? Didn't you also made the effort to swap Tengyouken's part in Season 1, because you were still uncertain about Mie Tian Hai's utmost pride, while also keep patiently waiting until the very last minute to confirm Mie Tian Hai's actual pride---his sword skill--not him merely wanting to posses Tengyouken.  So, Xiao Kuang Juan  just revealed his utter, most, prized possesion on his life, his own life. Wouldn't it be a simple matter for you to rework your strategy and concoct another plan for Xiao, Lin?  Don't you seek amusement and thrill out of outsmarting the most corrupt and wretched individual, Lin? So, isn't Xiao Kuang Juan---a shameless, corrupt official banished from his original country, trying to rebuild his life in a foreign land---, just the perfect target to occupy your time, Lin?  

That is, if Lin Xue Ya end goal is solely to humiliate Xiao Kuang Juan, as per Lin usual motive with his scheme. So, what makes this job is not Lin Xue ya usual scheme? This is where Shang Bu Huan, Lang Wu Yao, and the whole Sword Index feud comes into play. What if Lin started to play Xiao on the first place, because he, genuinely wanted to help Shang? Yes, Lin triggered the whole plot of Season 2 by spreading the word of Shang Bu Huan's heroic deeds against Mie Tian Hai, and that's how hordes of Xi You people came crossing The Wasteland of Spirit in pursuit of Shang and The Sword Index. But what if, that was Lin way of trying to help and repay Shang? By inviting people who has been against Shang Bu Huan this whole time, to his dominion, Dong Li, and play them here, where he arguably has the upper hand to his familiarity with the country.

Even if Lin, still, intentionally invited Xiao Kuang Juan to Dong Li himself, Lin's whole trap for Xiao is set up specifically to be resulting in the infamous fugitive hunter getting back into Xi You, humiliated with his stolen goods and corrupt deeds exposed in front of Royal Army. Xiao Kuang Juan back in Xi You, his corrupt deeds exposed and facing Imperial Court punishment kills two birds one stone. It clears Shang the additional trouble of getting chased by Xiao in Dong Li when he is already busy enough protecting his Sword Index and trying to contain Seven Blasphemous Death, and maybe, Xiao crooked dealings getting punished would also exposes other Xi You corrupt military doing and would be a start of getting Shang's name cleared, even if it's for just bit by bit, and even if Shang himself cares not about clearing his name back in Xi You. Lin is going out of his way to make sure his (initial) endgame plan for Xiao Kuang Juan benefits Shang Bu Huan.

Lin greatly implies during his two pool scene with Shang (where he was fishing) that all he has been doing on Season 2 is for Shang's sake. He stated explicitly, from their 'first' Pool Scene, on Episode 7, with excerpt from said scene goes like this:

Lin Xue Ya           : I want to propose a mutually benefical deal regarding something    else, actually. I'd like you to tell me about Xiao Kuang Juan. His accomplishments, insight into his character, past conflicts between the two of you... anything will do. It will be information that will go into the calculations of my next scheme.

Shang Bu Huan : And then, you're gonna screw him over for the fun of it, huh?

Lin Xue Ya           : Exactly! He is your enemy, isn't he? I can't imagine you'd have any reason to show him sympathy.

Shang Bu Huan : Yeah, I wouldn't shed any tears over him getting his. He's earned everything you've got cooked up for him. That doesn't mean I have to go help you with your fun, though.

Lin Xue Ya          : I had thought that my sabotage of his efforts would be benefical to you.

Shang Bu Huan : That guy's free to dig his own grave. I just don't wanna sneak up behind him and kick him into it. Feeling guilty about it later might spoil a meal.

(Note: I would like to note that Shang Bu Huan's and Lin Xue Ya pool scenes on this season are very important to me (as a viewer, and yes, as a shipper) because in my opinion it holds a significant purpose as running symbolism to testament  their relationship and character growth, and I might be go back and refers The Pool Scenes many times later).

So, when Xiao Kuang Juan refuses to fall into Lin's sweetly prepared trap, and instead choosing to reside in Dong Li and build his new way into crime, Lin goes frenzy, because Xiao retaliates in one of the worst way possible that goes against Lin's initial goal of fucking him over in the first place. Xiao Kuang Juan residing in Dong Li, Night of Mourning on his hand, building his new band of thugs would mean that: (1) his past crimes committed during his time in Xi You goes unpunished because he doesn't return there and it would be impossible to indict him; (2) Shang Bu Huan reputation in Xi You is still in murky water; (3) it adds to the trouble they already facing on top of the imminent danger Lou Zhen Jie---powerfully wielding Seven Blasphemous Death making his way across Dong Li holy sword shrines---, and who knows how dangerous Xiao could get knowing how resilient and how little he regards others life and how he would not mind making innocent civilians as his victim.

Lin's mistakenly judge Xiao Kuang Juan's pride over his honor and titles, when actually Xiao is so shameless, he is happy just to be alive after his corrupt scheme on the Imperial Army exposed. Not only Lin unintentionally humiliate himself by misjudging his foe true nature, he also completely fucks over his supposed one job. During the second Pool Scene on Episode 10, Lin boasted to Shang that his plan is ripe to take Xiao Kuang Juan down. But, how is the reality, our sweet dear thief? Nope, it ain't working out. Killing Xiao Kuang Juan right there and taking his life as his life is most precious to him right now is arguably the most efficient way of stopping him, but it also goes against Lin's principle of spilling unnecessary blood and drawing Yan Zhue unless it is most necessary. On the other hand, waiting for Xiao Kuang Juan to thrive with his plan and destroy him when the opportunity arises also takes way way too much time, because after the whole event of Season Two unfolds, and underneath Lin needing to get his share of getting high over fucking Xiao Kuang Juan over, Lin realizes a little too late that what needed most is for said Fugitive Hunter, to get away from Dong Li, as far as possible from Shang.

For the first time ever, Lin Xue Ya finally feels it how devastating it feels to fail in something you proudly prides yourself with when it's directly involves the well-being of someone you care about (re: Shang Bu Huan, and also arguably, yes, to Lang, also--because despite how hostile their interaction on Episode 4 and 5 seems, deep down Lin respects Lang as someone who used to be Shang's partner in Xi Yo) For the first time ever, Lin feels... for lack of better word, useless. Lin prides himself so much as master manipulator, more so than his carefully hidden yet unbelievable gift as swordsman--, but when the occasion calls for it, he failed. He said it so himself during his fight with Mie Tian Hai that he shied away from swordmanship because it would straight up send him down into villainy path, and that's the reason Lin resorts to trickery and manipulation instead, BUT when the the time needed for him to be, he failed manage to use his trickery to protect the people he cared about.

Of course when talking about Lin Xue Ya, one can not simply throw terms like 'endearment', 'affection', and 'care' around. We clearly see throughout the course of Thunderbolt Fantasy timeline, depicted effortlessly throughout The Movie, Season One, and also side material like the novel and the manga, how Lin seemed to completely show no remorse over fucking up Sha Wu Sheng, Xing Hai, getting Shou Yun Xiao killed with his so called expedition against Mie Tian Hai. But, as we also see from the event of Season One, and expanded in the manga itself, when Lin was shown visibly quite somber after he saw his master brutally killed, partly also because of him, because he toyed with Sha Wu Sheng and that karma comes back to bite him in the ass by taking his master away. The manga even goes in length to show how he kindly asked the group to help him bury his master body.

Season 2 had that scene where he objected Xiao Kuang Juan method of slaughtering innocent townfolks during his confrontation against Xie Yingluo. Albeit, yes, Lin arrived way too fashionably late to prevent the slaughter of the people controlled by Night of Mourning on the hand of Xiao Kuang Juan, but my stance is that he is also against taking the lives of people who do not actively take up arms. Heck, dude even did not straight up kill Mie Tian Hai and pulled his blade away before Mie Tian Hai's neck. I think it is safe to say that Lin, is against killing. My point is that, (also as I said in the disclaimer before, this is coming from huuuuuuge annoying Lin Xue Ya stan/apologist so yeah hahahahahahaha) yes, Lin is capable of feeling emotion despite it is his trade to get high off his target misery. He is capable of feeling affection and adoration toward other people, albeit said people receiving his admiration maybe is so very easily to count with fingers. The question is, how does our dear thief fare when it comes to building trust and relationship with other people?

This is where Shang Bu Huan comes into the equation. Lin explicitly stated by the end of Season One that Shang is so fascinating to him, that keeping him around will most likely to draw the most wicked, the trashiest people for him to toy around. Are we sure this is Lin's only motivation for triggering the event of Season Two by posing as that jester, spreading the word of Shang Bu Huan's heroic deeds? Are we sure, there is nothing more, to Lin Xue Ya actions throughout Season Two, especially in relation to the man that is Shang Bu Huan? Why did Lin managed to meticulously showed up at Certain Dong Li Government Office, right where Xiao Kuang Juan popped up first thing first he arrived at Dong Li, complete with a whole fake identity he already secured before? Why did Lin, even amidst 'entertaining' Xiao Kuang Juan during the first three episodes of Season Two, also bothered to track Shang down and cured him out of his ailment from Xie Yingluo deadly, first-rate poison?

My personal answer is that, Lin Xue Ya, is, attempting to build a healthy, trustful relationship with Shang Bu Huan (note at ATTEMPTING, because as much as I like this trashy garbage snow bird puppet as a character I acknowledge his messy ass personality and his questionably ability /so far/ to keep healthy functional relationship like most of normal people). Yes, he is, attempting to build a healthy, trustful relationship with Shang Bu Huan, as two people, who despite their complete utmost difference, acknowledge each other strong and weak side, trust each other, and help each other during needed times.

Why Shang Bu Huan?

Despite his motor mouth and Shang constant no-nonsense attitude toward Lin's antics, he really never ask him to... change. He asked why Lin is the way he is, during Season One, and Lin answered with smart ass, sassy, "Do you really want to know because I could go on length here but do you have the time for that", but Shang, never ask Lin to change.

Shang, the guy who is so against taking the live of another person, who intentionally tires himself using a battle technique that drains his qi, who believes every single person, even the most villainous ones, deserves a second chance and that they are capable of change and transformation. But Shang saw Lin, this shady ass dude, who intentionally plunged him into a dangerous journey against evil dark dude along with several other evil dudes, saw with his own two eyes that said shady ass dude fucked up real bad by dooming an entire country to a giant praying mantis eldrich abomination, proceeded to clean up said dude mess, left off wishing he would never have to meet said shady guy again, only for said shady guy to spread his rumor and whereabouts to and Shang reaction basically could be summed up as something along the line of "Man, you are really fucked up man... But, but... But whatever!".

Because Shang, deep down, despite always raising his eyebrows and we, as viewer, could personally hear him whispered softly "What the fuck" at every single Lin's Options in Life, he acknowledges and sees Lin's redeeming qualities under his lying, manipulating ass. That, Lin Xue Ya is Lin Xue Ya. And Shang knows, that deep down, there is part of him that is also intrigued by Lin despite another part of him (initially) repulsed by Lin's way of scamming. But Shang could not help but admit that Lin's method works most of the time, especially against big time villains since they share common principle against unnecessary killing. A whole, interesting mix of fascination, repulse, but the fascination part always outweigh the repulsed part, and by the end of Season 2,  I dare say that the repulsed part for Lin Xue Ya's antics on Shang would be completely gone.

The fascination goes both way of course, but in Lin's part, there is nothing in Shang that repulses him, only endless fascination and surprise. Shang is far from the definition of a 'villain' or a 'bad guy', he does not seeks destruction, really, just a humble, wandering, a slightly bit old (the 4-koma comic had me rolling) but really powerful guy who happens to possess three dozens of stolen mythical swords. But no! It's okay, there is nothing bad, he is not going to use those swords for Evil, he just want to keep them safe out of bad people who will use them wrongly. At first glance, there should be nothing in Shang that should fascinate him, right? Dude is so chill, laidback, and berates his antics more than anything. But Shang just keep surprising him over and over again. As flat-out admitted by Lin himself on Episode 4 Season Two:

Shang Bu Huan : And who the hell is my friend in this equation?

Lin Xue Ya          : Ah, a good question. Does a friend lend their aid because they're a friend? Or does someone become a friend once they've lent their aid? Sorting out the course of events can be a bit like solving a riddle.

And still on the same episode, but different scene with different character asking him the question;:

Ling Ya                : Hey man, why do you care so much about Shang, anyway?

Lin Xue Ya          : I'd say my interest begins and ends with how much fun he is. Come now, spare me the probing looks. This is no lie or exaggeration. Amusement is the solitary motivating force in my life. You could call it my very reason for living.

Upon knowing and seeing it firsthand Lin's usual dealing yes, Shang may be disgusted, but does Shang completely cut his ties off with Lin? No. For as much as Lin spreading mischief, intentionally spreading Shang's tale of taking down Mie Tian Hai and his horde of Black Demon Force, Shang just casually find him, pop up, give him several sigh and that's that.

Lin feels acknowledged by Shang. Lin feels acknowledged by Shang not asking him to change. And Lin feels appreciated. Yes, he feels appreciated because to him, Shang is easily categorized under his decent dude on his list of relation, and by Lin's standard to the people he kept company so far, Shang is basically a hero. A good guy. And for such upright guy to not immediately fend him off despite knowing his trickery? So, for the rare instance on his life, Lin decided to do something he just knows he is highkey sucks at doing, and that is, yes, building a trustful, healthy relationship with Shang Bu Huan.

Speaking of pursuing a healthy, mutual trust, this where Lin Xue Ya failed to do on his past relationship with Sha Wu Sheng. See, Sha Wu Sheng, for as merciless and as skillful a warrior he was, he also managed to peer underneath the facade Lin kept. Sha Wu Sheng wanted and planned to still be Lin's bodyguard even after he gained Sword Saint title, prolly out of his pity seeing how lonely Lin is, underneath all that. However, Lin's instinct and thirst for mischief outweighed his subconscious that sees Sha Wu Sheng's sincere, genuine attempt at starting a new life free from killing and Sha Wu Sheng's gesture of reaching out to him. Instead, Lin one-sidedly decide it himself that Sha Wu Sheng talent is too good to waste on building a sword school and set the ploy of what would be The Sword Saint Tournament.

By doing this to Sha, Lin Xue Ya not only ended up depriving Sha Wu Sheng of his what-could-have been life, but also his future and plunges him into his suicidal mission that makes Sha looking for an enemy stronger than him and him ending up dying on Mie Tian Hai's hand. Since Sha Wu Sheng arc is beautifully crafted onto the timeline that spans from The Movie first half into Season One, where Shang is present halfway, this could infer that maybe, Lin deep down regretted over what happened to Sha Wu Sheng so much and this too, could also goes into part of Lin's decision to keep an open, honest relationship with Shang ('honest' by Lin Xue Ya's standard, by all means) over the end of Season One and into Season Two.

This goes into the part that the whole event of Season Two was Lin trying to help Shang, albeit yes, it's still done on Lin's fucked up, round about way that ends up getting way more people hurt and killed than necessary. But his underlying motive is purely to help Shang Bu Huan. Yes, Lin might be hoping to secure a good prey along the way, but his whole priority is still Shang and his attempt to make Shang believe in him, that he, too, capable of forming a meaningful, trustful, healthy, relationship. No tricks, no ploy.  

By finally encouraging himself to build a healthy relationship with someone else that involves no trickery and lies (no trick and lies on 'most' part, remember that we are talking about Lin Xue Ya here, little lies here and ther counts as a honesty with him considering his usual trade), Lin is also, inevitably and unconsciously making himself more vulnerable emotionally, in a good way. I always felt that the way Lin's puppeteer making him move on Season Two and the way the directing is shot during his scene is way, way more extra compared to Season One and The Movie. I initially guessed that this is maybe because the cat is out of the bag, that Lin Xue Ya is Enigmatic Gale, a notorious, infamous thief across Dong Li for his scheme, compared to Season One where his reveal was held off until the good last quarter of the season. That's why Lin's movement and mannerism is more subdued in Season One, especially on the first three quarters, in order to avoid spoiling way too much into his true nature and reveal.

But now that we've got to Episode 11, with his whole emotional fit over Xiao refusing to go back to Xi You (he has emotional breakdown in front of two people, one being his supposed victim, Xiao Kuang Juan and the other one being Lang Wu Yao), to me this opens the interpretation that the dramatic, over the top puppeteering, writing, and directing style for Lin Xue Ya this season is intentionally on the showrunners part as a way of telling us how soft he has become. Lin Xue Ya is far, far more, expressful this season due to him more open of letting his guard down and expresses himself more emotionally. It's as if, in Season One and The Movie (I refer to the first part of the movie only, when we saw Lin and Sha Wu Sheng story, and not including the second part of the movie where he goes around as a jester spreading Shang's telltale), there is a dark, black cloth that Lin is purposely putting up between himself and us viewer. We could never see him past beyond the dark cloth, and the only way for us to see him is when he intentionally puts himself in front of the dark cloth and show us what's he doing. But beyond that, nothing. Compared to the dark cloth, the Season Two Lin forgoes the dark cloth completely, and instead replaces them with a kind of white mesh fabric, that is sheer and see-through. Despite the fabric still conceals his true doing, but with the mesh fabric we could guess his movement through his silhouette.

Going back to Lin's whole motivation of Season Two in helping Shang, this is also why Lin hurried his ass to save Lang Wu Yao and Ling Ya from Lou Zhen Jie and Seven Blasphemous Death after he failed his plan to send Xiao back to Dong Li. He sure nonchalantly dodged Ling Ya question and stated that he merely just passed by and the sight of someone chuckling so proudly just after his humiliation on Xiao Kuang Juan's hand is so irritating to him he want to turn said person into his pet food. But, is it all that there is to it, Lin?

I already mentioned briefly how expertly Lin's handling his whole cover during the first three episodes of Season Two. While he was pretending to be a government envoy, humoring Xiao Kuang Juan spreading lies about Shang being absurdly evil individual about to threaten Dong Li, Lin also managed to keep track on Shang and Lang's whereabout. When he knew that Shang and Lang are at disadvantage due to Xie Yingluo poison, Lin quickly hurried off and tracked them to their hideout, all the while covering up Lang's previous track, and putting up off new, fake tracks meant to throw Xiao Kuang Juan. Our resident Thief then proceed to find Shang, diagnoses his poison, and together with Lang managed to find the antidote for Scorpion Princess best poison all the while still keeping his cover as a government envoy in front of Xiao Kuang Juan.

Based from these events, it would not be far too much of a stretch to guess that Lin is actively keeping track of Shang and Lang's whereabout during the course of Season Two. So, assuming Lin keeping track of Lang's whereabout, sensing that Lang was in danger, up against Lou Zhen Jie, a proficient man wielding a notorious demon sword, Lin goes and proceed to save him. Why, Lin? Isn't he the man who is not hesitant to pull his sword attacking him you back when you guys in the middle of Wasteland of Spirit, procuring dragon's horn together? I know you hate seeing unnecessary bloodshed, but you never strikes me as the type who would go in such active way into saving people, Lin. Were you not in the middle of your mental breakdown, Lin Xue Ya?

Plot-wise, it would be to heartless and maybe, a tad anticlimatic just to let Lou Zhen Jie finishes off Lang right then without Lin interfering. But also, if we track back to the second Shang and Lin's pool scene, during Episode 10, and if we put the context of Episode 10 and Episode 11 weaven together, it makes it clear that the whole pond scene was Shang entrusting Lin with... his best buddy, Lang's safety, because Shang is about to went away to meet Juan Can Yun. Shang Bu Huan knew a psychopatic nihilistic monk is running amok with a freaking demon sword that enchants and drains life-force from people. As much as Shang have faith on Lang's ability as a warrior, Shang also desperately wants Lang to be alive, safe and sound, from the mess he created and Lang had nothing to do on the first place, and Shang wanted some kind of an insurance--fail proof way to ensure Lang safe no matter what. So, he asked Lin Xue Ya for help. He asked Lin Xue Ya for help, he entrust Lin Xue Ya to help him keep his dearest friend, alive. It might not be explicitly stated, but;

Lin Xue Ya          : Urgent and distant business, then?

Shang Bu Huan : You could say that. I'm gonna try and get back as soon as possible, so until I do, try not to make things even worse, all right?

This is the freaking Shang Bu Huan, who knows Lin's track record and also Lin's tendency to  fuck things up just for the sake of fucking things up and experienced it first hand. So, he asked Lin Xue Ya, specifically, to keep everything under control until he gets back pawning The Sword Index off to Juan Can Yun. This is, a big deal, because when in the beginning of Season Two, Shang vehemently refused Lang's idea to call someone for help (which is, in this case, incidentally said person on Shang mind happens to be Lin) until Lin showed up himself at his doorstep and forced his way to cure Shang, and now, several episodes later, Shang, specifically asked Lin for help. This means so much, because in a way, this is Shang's way of reciprocating and acknowledging Lin's attempt to be a better version of himself. Shang sees Lin's effort, and he acknowledges it.

And... AND... LIN KEPT HIS WORDS !!!!!! THIS THIEF FUCKERY VAPING WIZARD IS KEEPING HIS PROMISE!!! Even though Lin, partly on his fault, lowkey already fucked things up by failing to send Xiao away back to Xi You, but he managed to save Lang from great peril, and this is of course, the better deal. Lin's honoring Shang's request, even though he admitted himself that he has some kind incompatibility with Lang, shows how Lin respects both Shang Bu Huan, and even, to some degree, to Lang. Lin understands and accepts that Lang, is a part of Shang's life, and needless to say that Shang would be broken if anything ever happens to him.

Instead of succumbing into a dark desire lurking somewhere within his unconsciousness to toy with Lang's life (and given he context of Season Two, if Lin plays Lang then he would indirectly toy with Shang’s too), Lin represses that urge and strive to work with Lang instead, not just once, but twice. It could be also that Lang has nothing that Lin would ever want, and that Lang is not Lin's target and he had nothing on fucking up his life, but this also does not automatically making Lang exempt and safe from Lin Xue Ya's destructive tendencies to people around him, because Lin's past actions have shown that his machinations often proven fatal and claims collateral damage on Lin's own acquaintance even whom he did not actively mark as his prey at the moment (re: Sha Wu Sheng and Shou Yun Xiao dead bodies during their 'expedition' against Mie Tian Hai). Lin's active action on saving Lang's life is a great deal, because not only by doing so he is committed to his mission learning how to have a healthy relationship, it also shows Lin's character development striving to be a... less destructive version of him.

On top of saving Lang, Lin does not even bother on concealing his pissed stance in front of him, showing Lang his, ungraceful side as he shamelessly continues his emotional breakdown in front of Lang the moment Xiao Kuang Juan name mentioned. This part is just so, so endearing to me because we can see in the screen, both Lang and Ling Ya too, are baffled seeing Lin's throwing tantrum, something that they does never expect coming off from the dude who nonchalantly, politely asked a dragon before chopping off said dragon's horn. Retreating back into Season One, Lin Xue Ya was alone when Mie Tian Hai humiliated his ass off, nobody is even there to saw him getting his trickster ass owned and yet, the moment Shang came up to him, asking how the hell did a giant praying mantis monster got unleashed, Lin is seen masking his agony over his humiliation and feigning a nonchalant attitude as per usual. This contrasts heavily with Season Two, where Lin is visibly upset over his failure at scheming Xiao Kuang Juan, and even goes on a rampage to show how upset he is to someone he just know several days ago.

Now into Episode 12, when Shang Bu Huan finally retrieved Night of Mourning off from Xiao Kuang Juan, and Shang called out to Lin Xue Ya to undo his disguise, we can see how the two of them have full come circle and reaches another level of trust and bond between the two of them. On this scene, with Shang Bu Huan, Lang Wu Ya, and Ling Ya all present, Lin really went and admitted how he is pissy af because he fucked up his plan with Xiao Kuang Juan. Lin. Freaking. Xue. Ya. Admitting. His. Failure. He nonchalantly brought up his failure of messing with The Fugitive Hunter and reasoned that he wants to tag along because he want to see Xiao getting his due with his own eyes (or don't you really, just wanna help, Lin). And Shang Bu Huan, hearing Lin's failure, did not flinch, did not even comment, did not even make fun of it or rejoice on Lin's failure despite Shang never agreeing with his method. Shang just brushed it by and instead offered Lin to tag along and help them.

(You want Lin on his usual fancy clothing instead of those boring lawmen outfit, don’t you Shang ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

Shang Bu Huan : Why are you following us?

Lin Xue Ya           : Well, what else? I'm hoping that you might lead me to some new amusement. To be honest, I'm feeling incredibly frustrated. I'm willing to do just about anything to clear my head as a result. If I don't see someone get their painful just dessert's soon, I think I might go mad.

Ling Ya                  : Man, this guy's as twisted as they come, huh?

Shang Bu Huan   : Well, we're about to go after Xiao Kuang Juan. You willing to help?

One episode left for Season Two, and where this season has it's ups and downs, and it's owns pros and cons, I personally think with the lesser amount of main cast we really get our main cast fleshed out more and I'm really happy with this development of Lin. As much as his trickster, jester side of a character is entertaining and incredibly potent and powerful on it's own right, but I as viewer could not help but happy seeing Lin's making some good decisions for once. Here is to praying that our main trio makes it out alive of Season Two.

[allofthisnonsenseplease]

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 lollll i love the idea of like jack bein mind controlled during his time as strike commander it's fun i love mind control also i'm sick and everything hurts so now jack has to hurt

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 aaah. sorry you're sick. ; ; try drinking lots of lemons. did we...we've discussed so many ideas was there a mind controlled one before? also, mind control is one thing, but having him blackmailed or too afraid to outright rebel seems angstier to me. like that post you'd reblogged before. altho, i don't buy him not telling Gabe. fandom usually portrays Gabe as teh more cautious, tactical one and Jack as reckless. If Jack knew bad stuff was coming down from the higher ups, he would want Gabe investigating with him...unless he had reason to suspect that Gabe was one of them. =O what if they somehow made him think that Gabe was one of their agents?

and Jack and Gabe were already, like, married or some shit so Jack is trying not to act like anything's amiss but there's a traitor in his bed, touching him, kissing him, fucking him, he's married to a goddamn traitor

they would have had to plant the idea without Jack knowing it came from them like, they're sneaky about it so that Jack thinks he finds out on his own they're needing to drive a wedge in between jack and Gabe, elliminate Jack's suport structure to be sure he dances to their tune

and that's why things start to go south with Jack and Gabe's relationship.

All of a sudden, Jack is cold, he's secretive, he doesn't trust things Gabe tells him, he's treating Gabe like the enemy

and to Gabe it all just seems like the job has gotten to him--Jack is Strike COmmander, he's always too busy for Gabe, too wrapped up in being Overwatch's perfect golden boy

which he HAS to be so that the corrupt fucks up the chain of command don't come down on him and his own and crush them all

so, i mean about on par with stepping on legos

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 GOD sorry I disappeared OH MY GOD

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 you're good, you're good. i'm occupying myself in the castlevania tag

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 LOL but like!!! Jack's treatment of Gabe causes Gabe to get frustrated and that just confirms Jack's fears and then everything gets worse

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 yupyup vicious cycle

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 Does Gabe ever find out or can we wait until they reunite as reaper and 76 before he realizes

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 immediately before the explosion

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 NATURALLY LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 one moment of realization and hope and fury and then A RAIN OF FIRE AND DEATH shiiiiiiiiiiit. what if Gabe thought Jack was corrupt?

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 QOQ ow

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 what if he thought he had to take Jack down and they fought in Zurich? does the Reaper claws on Jack's face they're screaming at each other while the hgher ups have bombs set and press releases ready to go to clean house

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 EGADS and right before the end jack snaps and he's yelling shit about how Gabe had betrayed him, he's married a traitor, and gabe is confused Pissed off kind of confused Replies with something about how that's rich when Jack is the corrupt one

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 hell, what if Jack actually started to break down and shouts "I LOVED you, Gabe!" like an accusation between them. And all that pain he's been holding in for months, all those memories that were tainted, all the stress and heartbreak and the memories of how he let Gabriel take him back when he was trying so hard to act like everything was still normal--it hits him all at once, gets mixed up in his fury and now he's humiliated as well because he's about to fucking cry while facing down the man he'd thought was the love of his life.

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 QOQ

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 that might be a good clue for Gabe, 'cause, like you'd said...Jack just does not cry

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 NEVER until now //dun dun

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 XD well, i mean, and he's crap at acting so seeing that, Gabe's blood runs cold. something's wrong, he knows it. something is deeply, deeply wrong, and it wasn't what he'd been suspecting

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 so post-zurich gabe is looking for answers while jack is tracking down traitors.... like gabe qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 poor bbys maybe Gabe still isn't 100% sure about Jack and that's why as Reaper he doesn't actively seek him out to talk to him. but nothing has told Jack that Gabe wasn't a traitor he still believes it and it still eats at him

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 BOYS god gabe is gonna be FURIOUS when he finds out and then jack finds him and is ready to kill

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 the sadness just keeps going on jeezus, Reaper's gonna have to subdue his angry old ass to get him to listen at that point, jack prolly would have, like, pressed all the hurt down deeeeeeep and poured a layer of concrete over it. it's old news, it happened, it forged him into what he's become. he hasn't forgotten and isn't interested in forgiving. he just wants everyone involved dead. just a cold, resigned, this has to be done.

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 qoq gabe keeps trying to reason w him but jack straight up isn't listening he doesn't care what gabe has to say to him

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 so at this point, does gabe know that Jack was manipulated, or is he just trying to get him to talk so they can figure shit out? also, was the manipulation forged evidence, or a simple bit of mind-fuckery--something much easier than all out mind control, but definitely something that was done to Jack? 'cause if it was the latter, that's opening the doors for heartstring-tugging scenes of Gabe recalling happy memories between them for Jack and telling him that was real seeing Jack struggling to separate the lies planted in his mind from who Gabe really was and of couse, anything Gabe says is now suspect, because Jack was made to believe he was a traitor, that everything they had was a lie but who else could remind Jack of exactly what they meant to each other?

firesonic152 - 07/17/2017 SOBS LOUDLY THIS SHIT IS MY JAM!!! jack is shooting to kill but gabe just won't fight him, just keeps talking, trying to get through to him

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/17/2017 Gabe strips off one of his gloves and holds his hand up. Sunlight glints off the wedding band he still wears, and he knows the moment Jack recognizes it for what it is, because it's the first time he's hesitated since the fight started.

Jack's voice is harsh as he demands to know why he's wearing that.

'Because I meant it, Jack.' He lowers his hand to remove his mask, bares his ruined face to Jack, hopes that the disfigurment from the explosion and the nanites don't hide his sincerity. 'I meant it,' he says again. 'Till death do us part. I love you, Jack. Always have.'

His shotguns are nowhere to be seen. He's still, defenseless, unmasked, unthreatening. Jack's paranoid mind is screaming that it's a trick, but he lowers his pulse rifle--can't explain why.

A chance to explain what he's found--that's all gabe asks for at the moment. Jack can take the information and follow the leads and find the truth for himself. It kills Gabe to offer that promise, because he doesn't know for sure if Jack will trust anything he finds that originates with him, but he knows that he can't simply explain it because Jack sure as hell won't believe him.

He gives Jack a starting point. A couple of names, a location, maybe, where records could be found. He's prepared to back off for the time being, to give Jack time and space to follow up. He intends to go along--secretly--but the idea of being so close and unable to have his husband back in his arms aches, makes everything ache. He dissasembles, but before he disappears into the shadows, he gives in to temptation, takes a chance. He swirls briefly around Jack, the tail end of one nearly solid tendril of smoke caressing his brow.

I miss you, mi sol.

Jack reacts the way he was expecting, but there wasn't any preparing for the pain that lances through his heart as Jack jerks away, raising his gun, back to high alert as he snarls: "Don't fucking touch me!"

okidoki. am turning in. night night <3

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 CLUTCHES CHEST gabriel deserves better omg i'm crying Jack can't say why he follows Gabe's information - he tells himself it's to get rid of any remaining doubts, that once he sees Gabe's "evidence" for himself, he'll be able to disprove it once and for all and kill Gabe next time, no regrets.

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 But, of course, it's harder to lie to himself when he stops moving, when the demands of his body make it impossible to fight or run for any longer without rest. In the dark and the quiet, wherever it is that he finds a safe, hidden place to lay his head down and rest, that's when he sees what he doesn't want to admit about himself: that he wants Gabe to be right, wants it so desperately even though that would mean that it was his fault they fell apart, his that everything between them went down in flames. At least it would mean that there really had been something there to burn. Alone with his thoughts and the almost-there memories of Gabe's touch against his skin, Jack wants more than anything to know he was loved, and he dreads the possibility of getting that wish.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 QOQ And then he finds irrefutable proof of what was done to him and it's like his brain can't... process it the more he looks at it, the more everything distorts Gabriel followed along, of course, and he can't stand seeing Jack doing this alone

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 time for magical healing dick! dick ex machina

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 LOLLL this could go one of two ways jack refusing to be touched at first and them having to relearn each other very slowly... or jack doing his usual "bury emotions and everything else under meaningless sex" which gabe has to help him rein back in

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 XD omg i was joking jeezus how do we actually fix this? i mean, i suppose even if Jack can't process he can realize that something is wrong and turn to Ga nanite **nanites Gabe's made of nanites. can he like send some into Jack's brain?

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 :OOO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 try to find the bad info and burn it out? remake old connections? jeezus, Jack wouldn't trust him with that nm wouldn't work

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 IDK THAT'S THE ONLY SOLUTION I CAN SEE Jack knows there's something wrong with him but he can't erase the fear and anger he now reflexively associates with Gabriel qoq his brain's all fucked upp we gotta fix it bro send gabe's little smokey tendrils in there and perform fuckin brain surgery lmao we need a doctor

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 mrrgh. i'm just all i can picture is Jack wrestling with this on his own, hands on his head, unaware that he's dropped to his knees on the floor. Gabe coming out of hiding, alarmed, because something is obviously going wrong. He's at Jack's side immediately, as Jack tears off his visor, flinging it aside as if it had something to do with the way his vision was going dark, the way static was filling his head...as if they might still be controlling him through its circuits. He grabs Gabe's hands before they can reach him, holding on to keep himself grounded, keep from going under because he feels like he's about to drown, can't get enough air, can't think straight. Gabe's face is fuzzy before him, going in and out of focus. Familiar, changed, a comfort, a mask, a rock, a traitor--he doesn't know which. Panic is setting in. He knows that's wrong--he's a soldier, he doesn't just panic like this--but he can't see, can't breathe, can't think straight and only instinctively bows his head, curling closer to Gabe, fingers digging into his arms.

'how do you prove it? how do you prove it was all real? i need help... Gabe! I need you to help me! How can I trust you to help me?'

He's desperate, and he sees pain in Gabriel's eyes--red eyes, changed eyes, familiar, knowing eyes. He wants to trust and he's terrified of trusting. Warning klaxons scream in his head, even as his body hunches in closer to his husband.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 c r ie s help him!!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 yeah, gabe, help him

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 gabe does his magic smoke shit and jack is cured YAY

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 XD umm...i guess for something like this, first thing to do would just be for Gabe to talk him down. to just...be there, be a solid (haha) presence for Jack to hold onto. A quiet, familiar voice that he can latch onto until the fit passes and they can try to work out what happened.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 give him those schnuggles!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 Jack cautiously admitting that something has to be wrong. He can't quite bring himself to say that Gabe was right, not yet, anyway. Even that small admission required him to walk through the logic of it: he'd found 'proof' to back up Gabe's claim, he'd suffered a bizarre sensory assualt, he'd never experienced anything like that before, and even thinking too hard about what he had just seen made him feel like it would start up again.

'It felt like...being programmed to reject what I saw,' he admits reluctantly. The amount of anger in his voie startles him. He hadn't thought he had the energy for it. Gabe says nothing to that. He doesn't have to--Jack can pretty well guess what he's thinking. He was programmed. The thought makes him feel sick, makes his vision waver. The reaction isn't entirely due to what was done to him.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 :sob: can we fix him yet

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 i mean if you wanna just wave a magic dick wand and say it's all better we can, but then there's holes in the story

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 :sob: god dammit

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 lol i mean, if this is all a set up for a pwp where Jack asks for Gabe's help and gabe calms him with whispered words of encouragement and endearment, listens to Jack, talks with him, asks what he wants and stares into Jack's too-blue eyes as he says that he wants to fix whatever was done to him, sees teh distress and can't bear it any longer, kisses Jack--an impulse, a moment of pure need that stretches out. Jack's eyes are closed when he pulls back, his lips parted. His breath shudders out, and he leans forward just the tiniest bit. It's invitation enough. Gabe kisses him again, warmth and sorrow all mixed up together at what was taken from him--from both of them--so long ago and so insidiously that he never thought he'd get it back. The warmth builds to heat, to a fire that sparks between them, igniting on the kindling of old memories and emotions settled too thickly in their hearts to ever decompose into nothingness. Jack lets Gabe press him down against the floor, all devouring kisses and starved whimpers. He wants and he trembles beneath Gabe's touch, and God Gabe wants him so much, so badly, wants to claim him and make Jack his again and take back everything that was stolen right out of his hands.... And he knows he has to go slow, knows Jack needs him to be gentle, to be thorough, to awaken every last memory of gentleness and kindness, affection and love between them, remind him of the truth of what they were. Maybe that...maybe that will be enough to win Jack back from those who held him in thrall.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 AKDJANXKANCS IN THIS CASE, PWP STANDS FOR PORN WITH PLOT cries Jack trying so hard to bury the fear in Gabriel's touch

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 oh, i'm glad you came back. everything online went quiet kind of all at once, so it was sort of like the recluse's version of those spooky scenes where a person walks alone through deserted streets, you know? XD

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 LOL I was hanging out w people

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 well, i mean, i started chatting with someone else too ad they went quiet, and twitter usually has things popping up, but it didn't and it was just odd XD

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 That is odd :OO Jack trying to force himself not to flinch every time Gabe touches him qoq Gabe starts to get hesitant and Jack powers through the anxiety and ups the pace again

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 Gabe's heart breaking a little, but as they go on he realizes that this seems familiar somehow. He remembers the last several times they made love before it all fell to pieces, and he realizes suddenly that they got to Jack long before he had estimated...long before their relationship had been completely eaten away.

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 NOOOO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 <3

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 He runs a hand through Jack's hair and then cups his cheek and Jack bites his lip, glancing away for just a second, and Gabe has to ask how long? How long has this been eating Jack alive?

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 ((everything else started back up))

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 :OOO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 Gabe stops. He rests his forehead against Jack's and takes a shaky breath, rage and hurt battling inside him. He knows he has to stay calm for Jack's sake, but it isn't easy with this new revelation. He squeezes his eyes shut against the stinging precipitating tears, and whispers apologies. Jack hears the way his voice cracks, hears pain that he doesn't believe anyone could fake convincingly. He doesn't know what set Gabe off, assumes that it's just the way he's flinching from Gabe's touch. His stomach roils, desire and anxiety making for an unpleasant mix, but it's been years, and he's cold down to his bones, has been for so long. And it was all in the past, nothing to be done about it now except take revenge, and if this turns out to be a trick (although his gut is telling him it isn't) then he won't have any more reason to hesitate once it's over. He gathers himself and takes charge, forcing Gabe to shift as he sits up. He holds Gabe's face in his hands and kisses him, deeply, greedily, trying to assure him that he wants this. He doesn't miss the fact that Gabe's hands are shaking when they rise to cup his cheeks, but he doesn't stop to ask. It's more important that he get Gabe out of his clothes, feel him skin to skin. If this isn't real, if they only have one more time together, he wants to make the most of it.

((XD they're talking about a fall R76 week, and i'm just over here imagining Reaper!Gabe burying himself in a pile of leaves and suddenly sitting up making zombie noises to startle the kids))

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 OH OKAY SO YOU THINK YOU CAN MAKE UP FOR THAT STAB IN THE GUT WITH THAT LITTLE CUTE ANCEDOTE FUCK YOU

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 <3<3<3 ilu

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 NOT OKAY BRO

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 also?? you fucking started this????

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 LISTEN!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 X'D

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 i typed that w a very specific inflection hold on

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/18/2017 I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME

firesonic152 - 07/18/2017 LOL I'M FINDING THE CLIP

firesonic152 - 07/19/2017 https://youtu.be/RDoHownP9dg?t=17m47s LISTEN!!! LISTEN!!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/19/2017 X'D

firesonic152 - 07/19/2017 GOD NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT JACK TRYING TO CONVINCE HIMSELF IT'S OKAY TO SLEEP IN THE SAME BED AS GABE, HE'S NOT GONNA GET STABBED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AKSNFJDS

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/19/2017 baby steps

firesonic152 - 07/19/2017 qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/19/2017 maybe the implanted thoughts just...get unmade when he forces himself to be vulnerable, and he can take them apart as he drowses in the afterglow and sure, all that emotional baggage will stay around and need to be worked through but getting rid of the false certainty will be a good start to fixing things

firesonic152 - 07/19/2017 sob s the more he lets himself be vulnerable, and the more gabriel affirms that it's okay to be vulnerable, the easier it gets starting with little things, like letting gabriel take his hand or touch his face and training himself not to expect a blow probably the first few times they have to sleep in separate rooms but eventually they're okay to sleep in the same bed at first, with jack facing gabe so he could watch and then slowly feeling okay turning his back and then eventually schnuggling >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle - 07/19/2017 ohhh...the first time they would have actually gone-to-sleep slept together was one night when they were sitting up on the couch in their safehouse (or whatever), going thru info and planning their next move. Jack ends up leaning against Gabe, feeling sleep creeping up on him and knowing that he ought to get up, telling himself to go to his room and shut the door. But he's warm and drowsy and almost comfortable, and he thinks 'in a minute. i'll get up and go, but...just one more minute.'

When Gabe realizes he's asleep, he briefly considers staying right there, but he also kinda figures that this wasn't a conscious decision on Jack's part. Very, very carefully, he manages to carry Jack to bed without fully waking him. As he's leaving, he notices Jack's jacket and remembers how torn up it was. He takes it with him to make a few repairs.

When Jack wakes up the next morning, he's alone in his own bed with no recollection of getting there. He goes out to find his jacket on the couch, mended. And he finds Gabe, alone in the other bedroom.

firesonic152 - 07/19/2017 GABE RESPECTED HIS SPACE!!!!!! TRUST HIM JACK!!!!!!!!!!! on their journey to fix jack they just kind of naturally start reforming their old bond and by the time they're getting somewhere it's almost unnecessary

[bangtanexonyeondan]

4. Panic

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Genre: Angst, smut

Word Count: 2653

Warnings: Non-con aka rape, dubcon, trauma, homophobic language

Thumbnail made by @1vyprincess 

Jungkook sat quietly across the table from Namjoon, eyes nervously shifting around the room.

“You’re so tense,” Namjoon commented nonchalantly, pouring a drink smoothly into a crystal glass. Jungkook remained silent as Namjoon approached him with the glass. “Drink this.”

Jungkook stared up at him in refusal. He didn’t know what he was being offered, and quite frankly, didn’t want to figure it out.

“It’ll help you relax.”

Jungkook looked down into his lap and shook his head. “I’m ok,” he mumbled.

“Here, look. I’ll drink some too if it makes you feel better.” Jungkook skeptically watched Namjoon swallow down a gulp before the glass was handed to him again.

“See?”

Jungkook was wavering.

“Drink.” The command in Namjoon’s voice sent a shiver up Jungkook’s spine, and he finally obeyed, taking a quick sip before setting the glass back on the table. The tangy sweetness on his tongue and the sparkly kick as it made its way down his throat surprised him. It was pleasant, but he wouldn’t dare admit it.

“All of it.”

Jungkook hesitated before nervously downing the rest. Within seconds, he felt a subtle warmth envelop his chest, slowly spreading to the tips of his fingers. Namjoon nodded in approval and took the glass with him as he returned to his seat across the table. “Did you quit your job?”

“Well yes. Kinda? Not n-not really, no.”

“Elaborate.”

“I just told my boss that I would be working irregular hours…”

“That’s fine, I suppose…You mentioned that you were a virgin last time.”

Jungkook flushed at his direct and blunt transition, staying silent in his embarrassment. His stomach tingled at his words, and he shifted in his seat, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“So we will need an hour each night for a few weeks before you can take it for longer.” Namjoon stood up with the bottle and glass in hand and disappeared around a corner to clean up, leaving Jungkook to his thoughts for a moment.

Jungkook stared at his reflection in the mirrored table. He could tell he was blushing, even in the dim light of the room. Why was he blushing? He rubbed his cheeks, trying to rid himself of the heat accumulating in his face. His hands ran along the back of his neck, and he was startled by how sensitive he was all of a sudden. His skin was crawling and he wanted it to stop. He crossed his arms and tried to focus on calming his breathing, desperately attempting to ignore his heart pounding in his ears. When was Namjoon going to come back? He was taking forever. Jungkook felt hot everywhere, and the warm buzz was beginning to intensify.

“Fuck,” he groaned under his breath when he pressed his thighs together in an attempt to relieve tension, which only made it worse. Waves of heat shot through his body, and it took every ounce of control to fight the urge to grind back into his chair.

What the fuck is happening to me?

“With your projected schedule, I’ll have you picked up two hours earlier than the usual end of your work shift.” Namjoon finally reentered the room, seamlessly continuing what he was saying before, but the only thing Jungkook could find himself focusing on now was how low the V in Namjoon’s black silk shirt was plunging.

“Feeling ok?” Namjoon approached him and placed the back of his hand on Jungkook’s forehead. Jungkook whimpered at the contact, following Namjoon’s touch. “I-It’s so hot right now, I don’t know what’s g-going on, I-”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. Just relax, Jungkook.” Namjoon encouraged and slid a hand slowly down Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook stifled a moan as sparks shot across his skin in reaction to the touch. “W-what, what did you make me drink?”

“It’s just going to make things easier for the both of us.”

“What’s that s-supposed to mean?”

“It’ll just make your first time more pleasurable than without it. I’m trying to help you-”

Jungkook smacked Namjoon’s hand away in panic and tried to bolt to the door, but Namjoon was quick and pulled hard on the back of Jungkook’s shirt, yanking him into his chest. Jungkook choked for a moment and desperately tried to ignore memories he worked so hard to repress. Namjoon caged him in from behind, one arm wrapped around his waist while he slid his fingers around Jungkook’s throat, pushing his chin up. Jungkook gasped when he felt Namjoon’s lips press against his skin, and he shivered at the contact. “N-no…” he pleaded.

“You signed your consent.”

“I-I know, b-but-” he keened when Namjoon brushed over his chest, lightly pinching a nipple.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive here,” Namjoon remarked as he continued to play with his discovery, sounding pleased with himself. He let out an amused chuckle as Jungkook writhed at his touch and tried to pull his hands away. Namjoon noted that the mild aphrodisiac he had Jungkook drink was intensifying the stimulus that he was receiving, but it was only just enough to make him feel hot and a little needy. Namjoon was certain that he had found a loaded jackpot full of potential and tucked the information away for later use. But as of now, he had a somewhat sadistic urge to make his pretty boy cry from the stimulation and began roughly teasing both nipples simultaneously. Jungkook’s entire body jerked and he sank to his knees with a loud whine. Namjoon couldn’t believe how sexy this boy could be, and he wasn’t even experienced yet. “Fuck, Jungkook. I was going to bring you to the bed, but I’m beyond tempted to just take you right here.”

Jungkook shuddered, panting, trying to catch his breath. This was too much. His mind was plagued with sinister anxiety, but his body was swimming in heady lust. He vaguely noticed Namjoon’s retreating footsteps before surrendering to the urge to touch himself. He hated how aroused he was, how relieved he was to begin stroking himself through his pants, how it amplified his desire for more. He hated everything, he hated Namjoon, and he hated himself.

Namjoon quietly returned with a bottle of lube and smirked at the sight of Jungkook bent over with his ass in the air, palming himself slowly, as if conflicted by his actions. The boy had a lot of self control, Namjoon would give him that, but the way his lewd pants and stifled groans left his lips was filthy, and Namjoon had to hold himself back from mindlessly ruining him. Instead, he silently approached Jungkook and knelt down behind him, enjoying the view for a moment before interfering and replacing Jungkook’s hand with his own. Jungkook let out a humiliated sob and tried to scramble away, but Namjoon held him down with one hand while the other continued to stroke him. “I bet you’ve got yourself a pretty cock, don’t you?” Namjoon teased, giving him a few harsh tugs. Jungkook whimpered and squirmed, attempting escape, but he soon shamefully gave into rutting against Namjoon’s large hand.

“Shit, do you have any idea sexy you are right now?” Namjoon growled. He released his grip on Jungkook and watched him thrust involuntarily, seeking the friction that was just there, whining at the emptiness.

Namjoon chuckled before quickly sliding Jungkook’s pants down, over the curve of his ass, revealing skin and the tense, flexing muscles of his thighs. Namjoon was mildly surprised at how built Jungkook was. He had such a pretty, baby face, and yet his body showed off the results of regularly working out. It messed with his head but turned him on even more, and he poured lube over the exposed flesh, rubbing it over Jungkook’s ass and down the back of his legs as an excuse to touch. He pressed the pad of his finger against Jungkook’s tight, virgin hole and vaguely wondered if the boy ever fingered himself when he got horny.

Jungkook kicked back at his touch, and Namjoon was surprised to find him sobbing and shaking violently. “It’s ok, I said I’ll be gentler for your first time, I have at least that much consideration.”

He didn’t get any verbal response other than garbled, indistinguishable begging.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured before slowly pushing the slicked digit into the tight heat.

Jungkook screamed.

His uncle was drunk again when he got home from his date with Yoongi, and immediately began drawling curses at him.

“Did you go out with that fag again?!” He threw an empty can in Jungkook’s direction. “I said never to see him again, yet you still go out like a slut for men! What kind of image does that put on me, you ungrateful bastard?! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Jungkook was fuming. Way to ruin the goodnight kiss he had just shared with Yoongi. “I’m pretty sure your reputation as an alcoholic druggie is worse,” he muttered before sulking to his room.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” His uncle bolted from the couch and lunged at him. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s shirt when he tried to run away, yanking him down to the ground and belting out every profanity he knew. Jungkook scrambled to get back on his feet, but his uncle pulled him up and slammed him face first against the wall. Jungkook felt blood drip down from his nose and a dark bruise begin to form on his cheek. His pained groan turned into a panicked shriek when he felt his uncle’s rough hands pull at his jeans.

“Little fucker, you like boys?! You wanna be some man’s bitch?! I’ll show you, you fucking whore!”

Jungkook struggled to escape, but the hand clutching his neck, forcing his head into the wall, made it impossible for him to find any leverage. He kicked his legs back in an attempt to defend himself, but the grip around his neck crushed his throat and he choked. His hands desperately clawed at the fingers clamped over his windpipe.

“You wanna be fucked by boys? I’ll show you what a man feels like,” his uncle raged before forcing two fingers into his hole. Jungkook screamed at the harsh, dry intrusion and tried to wrench away from the torment, but the fingers began pounding mercilessly into him.

Where’s Yoongi?

Two turned to three.

He should be here! He saves me!

Namjoon slowly stretched out Jungkook’s hole, adding more than enough lube to allow for a smoother slide, but Jungkook’s struggling was making everything more difficult than it should’ve been. Namjoon was getting frustrated. He kept telling Jungkook to relax so it won’t hurt as much, but it appeared that every word he said was falling on deaf ears.

So he gave up trying to coach him through it. If he wasn’t going to listen, then he wasn’t going to listen. All Namjoon could do was proceed as gently as he was allowed.

He carefully began pumping three fingers into Jungkook.

Everything felt raw and bloody, but Yoongi was supposed to be here. Jungkook left his phone with him, and Yoongi should’ve broken down the door and this uncle’s nose by now.

Where is he?!

Namjoon removed his fingers after deeming that Jungkook was going to be as stretched as he would be. Fuck, it had been years since he fucked a virgin, and Jungkook was just so tight, Namjoon had to fight the animalistic urge to chase after his own pleasure. If he hurt Jungkook too much, it would take weeks for his body to recover, and even longer for his mentality. Namjoon slowly pushed his fingers back into Jungkook. “I need you to communicate with me, Jungkook. If I hurt you and you don’t say anything, I wouldn’t know.”

Jungkook didn’t respond.

“Have it your way.”

Jungkook let out a tortured sob when his uncle drove into him, pounding him brutally against the wall.

Why isn’t this stopping?!

He began to cry out for Yoongi, hoping it would make him arrive faster.

But he didn’t come.

There was no furious pounding on the door this time, no yelling, no shattering wood as the door was kicked down.

Jungkook gave up.

He went limp and let himself be used like the slut he was. He deserved it.

All he could do was stare blankly at the closed door.

Namjoon was relieved that Jungkook finally listened to him and relaxed, even though it didn’t make much of a difference anyway. Namjoon groaned at the crushing heat pulsing around him and dared to start moving. God, this felt so perfect, and Namjoon was at war with wanting it to last forever or to chase down his climax. He reached around Jungkook to pump his cock for him as he began thrusting faster. It was soft. Namjoon figured it would happen the first few times before Jungkook could get pleasure from bottoming, so he thumbed at the head of Jungkook’s cock and cursed when Jungkook clenched around him.

Stop touching me!

Jungkook wanted to yell and cry for help but nothing except broken moans and gasps escaped his throat. He hated that he was getting hard again. He didn’t want to like it. He wanted it to stop.

Namjoon pumped Jungkook in time with his thrusts, addicted to the enticing high. Jungkook shivered beneath him and abruptly came without warning, cum coating Namjoon’s fingers in hot spurts. Namjoon groaned loudly at the taut throbbing that surrounded him. Jungkook clenched so hard that Namjoon found it nearly impossible to move, and he released his load with a low moan of satisfaction.

Jungkook was not reacting to him.

Namjoon had no idea what to do. He cleaned Jungkook up, assured him that he’s had his blood tested and that he was clean, tried to get him to stand.

Jungkook remained pliant and unresponsive, staring at the door with dead eyes.

Namjoon apologized for not restraining himself, telling him that he should’ve taken him to the bed.

Nothing.

“Jungkook. Answer me.”

Nothing.

Namjoon tried running his fingers through Jungkook’s dark hair. Jungkook shuddered and tears began rolling down his cheeks. He looked up at Namjoon with glassy eyes and gripped his shirt.

“H-Hyung? Y-Y-Yoongi hyung? Yoongi…Yoongi hyung, why weren’t you there? Y-you always said y-you’d be there. B-b-but you weren’t! W-where did you go, hyung? I needed you!”

Namjoon stared at him in confusion. “Jungkook, I’m not-”

“H-hyung, h-how could you leave me all a-a-alone?! You promised!”

Jungkook sobbed and clutched Namjoon’s shirt as if it was the only thing grounding him.

Namjoon couldn’t understand anything else that Jungkook said after that except for scattered calling for this Yoongi hyung of his. He called the driver up to his penthouse, unable to come up with any other solution.

“Sir?” the driver asked cautiously, having never been ordered into Namjoon’s actual home.

“Go to my bedroom and grab any warm blanket you can find,” he commanded, still holding onto Jungkook.

“Sir, what-”

“JUST GO DOWN THE HALL, YOU CAN’T FUCKING MISS IT!” Namjoon yelled. Jungkook flinched and whimpered away from Namjoon. “No, no, Jungkook, I’m sorry. It’s fine, promise, c’mon it’s ok.”

“Y-Yoongi hyung,” Jungkook pleaded.

“Look, here’s a blanket. C'mon let me-”

Jungkook started screaming and crying when Namjoon tried to pry his hands from his shirt. “Shit. What the fuck do you want?”

“Perhaps it would be better if you rode back with him?”

Namjoon huffed and picked Jungkook up with a bit of struggle and carried him to the elevator. The driver held the building doors open for the two and Namjoon glared at anyone in the lobby who would dare stare at him. Once in the car, Namjoon groaned and rubbed his shoulder. “Fuck, he’s heavy,” he complained. “Have you found his actual residence, yet?”

“Yes, sir. I learned of it yesterday.”

“Get there as fast as you possibly can.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to know who this Yoongi is.”

Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

[thebluelemontree]

I ship sansan but I have to disagree with you. Forcing someone to sing with at a dagger point can't be downplayed as being "too uncompromising and overly harsh". She was scared for her life. Yes, he walked away but I don't want to imagine what would have happened if it wasn't for the Mother's hymn. Sandor is verbally and physically abusive to Sansa. She tries to justify his action and she understands his motives, but that's not an excuse.

Hi, anon.  When I said “too uncompromising and overly harsh” I really was speaking more in general to their verbal interactions.  For the purpose of answering an ask about why I ship Sansan, if I got really specific into every nuance of every interaction it would be a ridiculously long post.  I already have a penchant for the long-winded as you can see.  I was trying to summarize, not minimize.

The Blackwater was an entirely different animal, which I’ll get into later.  I don’t excuse or minimize his bad behavior, but I do put it into context.   I do look at his intention behind his words and actions as a factor in deciding whether or not he is redeemable or worthy of a future relationship with her.  That doesn’t negate his responsibility, but it does make me consider him more carefully than I would Joffrey or Cersei who truly intend to cause Sansa pain and want to see her suffer.      

He is uncompromising in his demand to drop the courtesy and speak plainly with him.  He goads her to drop the mask with him and demands she always look him in the face.  He cannot abide any fakeness.  He’s frustrated with her idealism and wants to crush it for her own good.  At the same time, he identifies with it and he deep down wants to believe she’s right.  It’s part of that craving of a connection with another person, but going about it by being nasty and demanding.  He has no reference of how to people and how to ask for things from another person the right way.  His whole life has been spent trying to avoid vulnerability because the last time that happened his brother held his face in a fire.  She is a person who is willing to give him compassion, but he needs to learn the concept of asking nicely with respect.  And thank GRRM that he made it Elder Brother’s job to fix him, not Sansa’s.    

Now on Sansa’s side of things, she is at times superficially averse to him and courtesy can be taken to the point of fakeness.  I can understand his frustration, especially after he risked his life to save her in the bread riots and she neglected to thank him until she just happened to run into him some days later.  She didn’t seek him out and she knows she fucked up.  Her gratitude came off as lukewarm.  Think she would’ve hesitated if it was Ser Loras that had saved her?  Hell no.  Sandor knows that and he has the right to be pissy, but not to the level of meanness.  Unlike Joffrey, Cersei, and LF, Sansa does feel she can call him out on his bad behavior.  She does flat out call him awful, as she should.  The fact that she instinctively knows that most of his behavior is posturing and bullshit allows her to challenge him without fear that he would truly hurt her.  She even wishes Dontos had some of his ferocity.  There’s still things she likes about his bite, so long as it doesn’t go too far into disrespect.   

I do understand courtesy is her only shield to mitigate her abuse and I fully support her using whatever tools she has.  The thing is Sansa has been positively reinforced to conform to a perfect lady on a pedestal.  How well a person can sew or play the bells does not make a real flesh and blood human.  That’s not her personality, it’s a performance.  She has always tried to win people’s approval by performing and conforming.  Sandor is the first person to challenge her on that conception of herself.  Does Sansa even know herself beyond the superficial?  She says she wants to be loved for herself and Sandor is the only one that tried to get at and bring out the authentic Sansa (in his fucked up way).  Yes, he called her a stupid talking bird which counts as abusive language she really didn’t need, but if we’re being honest, she is a willfully tough nut to crack as much as he is.  But that’s the very interesting push and pull of their dynamic.  The dynamic is difficult, unpleasant at times, and problematic, but also punctuated with moments of gentleness and compassion.  Their issues are very significant, but not insurmountable and not irredeemable.  So while Sandor has said and done things that we would rate as abusive, we can still say he’s not part and parcel an abuser without excusing or minimizing anything.          

Okay, as for the Blackwater I did say his behavior was very scary and wildly inappropriate.  She was justified in fearing for her life because he was so drunk and unstable.  Here’s the thing and I swear to you I am not minimizing or excusing his actions, but the Blackwater was not his normal self. If he was normally explosively volatile there is no way that he would ever be allowed so close to the royal family, especially the children.  He is usually very in control of himself, despite his anger and posturing.  I do put it into the context that he was having a PTSD meltdown, was called craven and humiliated, and his sense of self had been shattered.  BUT he had no right to dump any of that on a traumatized child.  He was 100% wrong in scaring the shit out of her or demanding anything of her, especially at knife point.  You are right that it is the hymn that snapped him out of it.  Made him see that what he was doing could have crossed the line into doing permanent harm, something he truly does not want to do.  He was rightly and deeply ashamed of himself, hence why he cast off the white cloak.  He wasn’t worthy of it.  I don’t think there’s anyone harder on Sandor than Sandor.  If he had even knicked her skin I think he would have just let the BwB kill him or drink himself to death, which it looked like he was already doing before they captured him.

Sansa forgives him as soon as she has the space to do so, but I don’t see her as excusing or justifying.  The two aren’t the same thing.  The latter implies that she thinks what he did wasn’t that bad or was somehow okay.  She has a very brief pause over her decision not to go, but there’s no sense of regret over her decision.  She knows he fucked up too and she’s not soft on what he actually did.  She’s just looking at the whole picture from a less emotionally charged place and considering everything she knows about him.  With time and space, she can put those events into context and understand why that event was singular.  It’s why she can forgive and continue to think about him, even eroticize him.  If it truly wasn’t a unique event, there’s no way I could ship it.     

Whew!  Sorry, I am the queen of over explaining.  Hope that clears things up.              

[lov3bone]

1-150

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

Francesca

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

Pretty shy generally

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

My coworker tomorrow, he just got back from hip surgery and I’ve been worried lmao

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I can be, but I know I can flip like a switch on some people.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

Probably not.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

People who are kind of jerks, or have a kind of mean personality. I also love people who are witty, and make it easy to keep a conversation going tbh.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

I don’t know things are kinda rough rn lmao

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

This guy named Jeremy 

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Kinda

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Jeremy

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

I was kinda drunk, but I was talking about how I’m very confused

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Help - Blackbear, Guillotine - Jon Bellion, The Good In Me - Jon Bellion, Tear In My Heart - twenty one pilots, I Needed You - Blackbear (I’ve been fixated on blackbear lately)

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

Yeah, but only from certain people

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

Yeah lmAO

15. What good thing happened this summer?

I got to march in the gay pride parade

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yeah I would

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

There has to be. We definitely are not the only ones out here man omg

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

Nope

19. Do you like bubble baths?

ehhhh nah

20. Do you like your neighbors?

Wouldn’t know, never met them. It’s been 16 years. Not gonna do it now.

21. What are you bad habits?

Drinking, pushing people away before they get a chance to get close, getting anxious and clinging to people while also not letting them help me lmfao

22. Where would you like to travel?

I wanna go to Sicily one day to see part of my family!

23. Do you have trust issues?

Y e s. sorry

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Wandering around by myself after work for a couple hours

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

Jawline. Like. My neck. The little part between your chin and neck. I hate it.

26. What do you do when you wake up?

Kind of sit there and boot for a second, then check my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

I think I’m fine with my skin lmao

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My cousin, the age difference prevents me from really relating though. But she’s one of the only people that I feel safe around rn.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

Yep.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Nope

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

n o 

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

None because I’m uncomfortable with sex LOL

33. Spell your name with your chin.

e,l,l,kioigt

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

I don’t participate in sports anymore. But I used to be on a competitive crew team.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

I would rather live without tv

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Yes, many times

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

I usually break that by doing something stupid or blurting out something stupid because awkward silences are uncomfortable

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Pretty sure I’ve answered this before, but my answer is definitely changed since then. My dream person would be someone who’s there for me. Not leave me on read, reassure me when I start getting anxious, not see only my mental illness. Go on adventures with me, hold my hand a lot and be down for cuddling whenever.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Target, hot topic (y EAH FUCKING FIGHT ME I LIKE THE T SHIRTS), zumiez, and tj maxx

40. What do you want to do after high school?

I’ve already been through it. But, I still don’t know. I’m trying to find my way the best I can.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Fuck no.

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

If I’m being extremely quiet in person that’s pretty normal it’s more my facial expression while I’m being quiet that gives anything away. If it’s texting and I’m not seeking you out or not answering you should probably be concerned.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Sometimes

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Outer space, the ocean is cool too but fuck the bottom hell no

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Either anxiety about my mom or I have to go to my job

46. What are you paranoid about?

Trusting others, being alone, certain people in my life, me

47. Have you ever been high?

Yes

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Yes

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

I really don’t fucking care at this point, but I guess. I did a big bad thing earlier today.

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

Red

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Yes

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

My personality

53. Favourite makeup brand?

None lmao

54. Favourite store?

This pet store that’s kinda close to my house

55. Favourite blog?

@humiliated B)

56. Favourite colour?

My hair color, multiple types of greens and blues are my faves. I don’t really have a favorite 

57. Favourite food? 

cherry poptarts

58. Last thing you ate?

cherry poptarts

59. First thing you ate this morning?

nothing

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

I don’t remember what I wrote last time but I don’t think it was anything

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Almost was expelled from my mom being an asshole and telling the school that I was a ‘ticking time bomb,’ they took it very seriously

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nope

63. Ever been in love? 

Yes

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

It was with a boy and it was gross

65. Are you hungry right now?

no, I actually kinda feel sick

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

This is a bad question. I love all of my friends equally. 

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Twitter

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?

No

70. Names of your bestfriends? 

Azalea, Daria, Gianna

71. Craving something? What?

Affection, feeling wanted

72. What colour are your towels?

White.. With patches of green dye lmao

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

six

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

no, unless my dinosaur shaped pillow counts?

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

Around 15 or more idk

75. Favourite animal?

Mantis shrimp. I get really excited about those fuckers for some reason.

76. What colour is your underwear?

Black, and covered in pokemon

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Green tea

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Light blue

80. What colour pants?

Blue

81. Favourite tv show?

BoJack Horseman

82. Favourite movie?

Ig zootopia

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean Girls

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Mean Girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

Janis Ian

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

The turtle

87. First person you talked to today?

Francesca

88. Last person you talked to today?

Daria

89. Name a person you hate?

Jeremy

90. Name a person you love?

Nobody

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Yes

92. In a fight with someone?

Yes

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

3 pairs

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

13

95. Last movie you watched?

The Babadook

96. Favourite actress?

None

97. Favourite actor?

None

98. Do you tan a lot?

No

99. Have any pets?

Yeah I have a lot of pets lmao

100. How are you feeling?

Really bad now tbh

101. Do you type fast?

Depends on how I’m feeling

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

Yes. Many things.

103. Can you spell well?

I do if I’m not intoxicated or anxious

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Yeah 

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Nope

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

I guess

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yes

108. What should you be doing?

Making amends

109. Is something irritating you right now?

YEP

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Mhm

111. Do you have trust issues?

Y e s. This was answered earlier on wtf

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

I don’t really cry in front of people. I can’t remember. Probably Marielle. That was almost a year ago.

113. What was your childhood nickname?

Samsam

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yes

115. Do you play the Wii?

Not anymore

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yeah, listening to blackbear

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

Not really tbh

118. Do you like Chinese food?

Yes I love chinese food

119. Favourite book?

Perks of being a wallflower

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

A little bit

121. Are you mean?

As of lately, yeah

122. Is cheating ever okay?

It’s never okay to do that.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Hell nO LMAO

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No

125. Do you believe in true love?

I’m not sure

126. Are you currently bored?

No

127. What makes you happy?

Not much. 

128. Would you change your name?

Yeah, I’m currently trying to 

129. What your zodiac sign?

Sagittarius 

130. Do you like subway?

Eh

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Give it a go, whatever.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Wtf more double questions. But Jeremy.

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

‘I’ve been going to sleep with my head fucking pounding, ow’

It’s fucking relatable okay

134. Can you count to one million?

Probably

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

“Yeah I’m not drunk I swear.”

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed

137. How tall are you?

5′2

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Straight

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Brunette

140. Summer or Winter?

Winter

141. Night or Day?

Night

142. Favourite month?

October

143. Are you a vegetarian?

Fuck no

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Dark

145. Tea or Coffee?

Coffee

146. Was today a good day?

No

147. Mars or Snickers?

Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote?

Well, you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you. You were born broken, that’s your birthright. There’s no cure for that. -BoJacks mother Beatrice

Kinda just hits home lmao

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

I’ve answered this like 4 times. Yes.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

A skin of seaweed had washed up on the rocks and jumped with sea lice.

[i-am-gaylocked]

You know what makes me really pissed right now?

On platforms other than tumblr there are loads of people joking about how the fandom is going crazy now because The Kiss™ didn’t happen.

NO.

Fuck you. That’s not why we’re angry.

Of course a kiss would have been awesome, but personally I never believed it to happen anyway, and I would have even lived happily ever after with less Johnlock scenes than we got in the end, even though I ship them like crazy - if only the rest of the plot would have made some sort of sense.

You wanna know what’s bothering me about the (supposedly) final problem?

1. Moriarty was hyped up as the ultimate villain for three seasons and frankly, almost everyone loved him. The creators themselves made such a big fuss about him - only to have him replaced by another supervillain out of nowhere. Moriarty was the ultimate mystery and his reveal was basically “actually he’s just a maniac sidekick executing Eurus’ plans who was kinda bored with living anyway so he killed himself just for the fun of it”. I know they made it hard for themselves to have a truly mind-blowing plot twist with Moriarty since they’ve been stirring his story up for more than two years and expectations were high, but this was anticlimactic and disappointing on a new level.

2. I don’t know much about storytelling, but I do sense that this was bad. For the last three seasons, there have always been subtle and not-so-subtle hints as towards what is going to happen next. Everything was connected and logical to follow and quite frankly, this unique way of building up a plot was one of the things that made me fall in love with this show. Compared to what we have experienced in former episodes, this whole fourth season was utter bullshit. Sure, the basic storyline was connected with the other seasons, but only superficially; most of the “"plot twists”“ happened out of nowhere and made the whole series feel very estranged all of a sudden. E.g., in TRF Moriarty said “Have you worked out what it is yet? The final problem? I did tell you… But did you listen?” - Typical Mofftiss style would have been that some very inconspicious Moriarty line somehow hinted at him pairing up with Sherlock’s unknown sister to “play a game” or destroy Sherlock or seek revenge or whatever. But nothing, NOTHING prepared us for this, although this subtle preparation was what made the show so amazing, which is why this season feels like total nonsense.

3. Eurus’ hyper intelligence was over the top. At the beginning, Sherlock was introduced to us as the ultimate mastermind and we all admired his genius. Then Moriarty entered with a similar, though very psychotic level of genius and we were like “ah, two masterminds battling each other, that’s cool”. Then it turned out that Mycroft is actually even smarter and quicker than Sherlock and everyone was like “well… He’s the older brother, there’s rivalry, he’s gotta feel superior in some way, that’s fine, still kinda fun” and it showed us the borders of Sherlock’s intelligence and made him appear more human, all fine and good. I also get that Eurus kind of reflected that even Mycroft is not the all-knowing, stone-faced, flawless, mature older brother and the ultimate version of smart. But continuously adding more characters to the “flawed mastermind” stack where every new one outsmarts the others feels very cheap and uninnovative. First Moriarty was said to be one of those minds that happens once every few centuries, then Mycroft supposedly straight up Fucked Him Over™ (although he actually didn’t in the end, i know), and then there’s suddenly Eurus out of nowhere and wait she’s even smarter than the rest of them?? Sorry sirs, I’m not buying this.

4. In S3, everything was hinting at Mary having some sort of connection with Moriarty (and we still don’t know how she got into Magnussen’s office that easily because I don’t think she proposed to Janine as well). When Mary’s A.G.R.A background was revealed, I thought it was kinda fucky and far-fetched; I’ve been waiting for the big Mary reveal in TFP. Instead, her conflict apparently counted as solved in T6T and she was turned into a lovable goofball who just so happens to posthumously send old DVD recordings of herself over to Baker Street to whisper sweet nothings to both John an Sherlock so that everyone forgets that she shot Sherlock with the intention to kill him, then drugged him again and overall just manipulated John an Sherlock all the time? Mary is a great, twisted character and I do believe that she’s able to feel love for both boys, but that ending was not her. They were trying to find poetic final words and they didn’t have anyone to give them to but the ex-assassin who murdered her husband’s best friend and lied and lied to her oh-so-beloved John? I don’t think so fuckers.

5. Normally, at the end of a movie (/episode) the viewer should be able to distinguish between such things as imagined/hallucinated locations, events and conversations and what happened in the ‘real world’ of that world. Now, this might have something to do with the fact that English isn’t my first language, but after TFP I’m still a bit clueless about how some scenes were connected and what was actually happening and what wasn’t. (I never had problems like that during the old episodes though, including TAB, which was also really fucky and inception-y.)

6. The Molly scene was hurtful as fuck, and not in a movie-typical, good way. There’s a grown woman who just can’t and can’t get over her crush: Mofftiss’ level of extending this idea always appeared a bit forced to me anyway, but that is neither here nor there now. This scene was emotional abuse, heartbreaking and humiliating and most of all, it was so, so useless. Wow, Sherlock was a dick to Molly once again and this time it broke her completely. This doesn’t help us understand Sherlock’s troubled mind any further nor does it advance the plot in any way, it just crashes another character straight into a brick wall because why the fuck not. (Loo did a great job in this scene tho, probz for that.)

7. I’m still not over how fucking cheap Eurus’ little horror game was. “Let’s lock a few people in one room and make them shoot each other, nonono listen to me this has never been done before because in our show the villain and his victims are related isn’t this awesome?” Wow yeah, truly groundbreaking. What a witty, unique idea. The only good thing about this was that Sian truly was great at pulling of four different roles in a very convincing fashion, credit where credit is due.

8. You don’t say stuff like “It’s making a funny face… I think I’ll put a hole in it” and then reveal that the so-called hole was nothing but a tranquilizer, seriously, where’s the classic Mofftiss genius style in that?

9. The plot and the plot twists of this episode (and the whole season 4 for that matter) were lazy and mainstream compared to BBC Sherlock’s usual standards. I used to love this series for its many-layered stories and characters, but here we have classic Hollywood horror and classic Hollywood psycho villain well beyond any boundaries of normality. Of course I’m not opposed to this kind of stories, but it’s common, you can find stuff like that everywhere. BBC Sherlock used to have a really special, unique way of storytelling and most of it got killed for the sake of cheap ass mistery overload and mainstream horror games.

10. Personally, I can begrudgingly accept the ending that we got, aka “open for interpretation”. If you still want to ignore the gayness that is screaming you in the face, go ahead and call it bro!parentlock, I don’t care. But what I do care about is the line “It doesn’t matter who you are”. I believe that it was never meant to be offensive or hurtful, but this version of Sherlock was introduced to us as gay (or bi or pan or whatever, but at least in some way sexually interested in the same sex). If Mofftiss were too scared to actually pull through with it or simply didn’t want to, that’s fine, I understand. But then don’t just go ahead and tell us that it doesn’t matter anyway. Because it does matter. I feel like these men fail to grasp the power they have over us and therefore didn’t see how hurtful this line was, but it did hurt people. Lots of people. Many of us had actual mental breakdowns because of this line. I know it was never meant to mean that much (or it wasn’t meant to be understood differently), but if you have a general understanding of the concept of fandom (Mofftiss sure have it), then you usually understand that there are sensitive topics that can be triggering and should be expressed with caution.

11. Where’s the big Mycroft reveal? All these adressings towards his physical health. How the hell were they implying that he fucked up in dealing with his psychotic sister?

12. I still don’t get the point of Irene if they were neither letting them meet again nor cutting her out permanently. She’s been a recurring thought of Sherlock since ASIB, but in TFP it was just like “Nah it’s not her she’s married idgaf about her anymore anyway bye” Like?? Dramatic flow? is where exactly here??

13. We still don’t know how Sherlock survived the fall. Just sayin’.

14. Yeah john totally cut his metal chains that forced him onto the bottom of the well with a fucking rope and he didn’t even need help for that matter he just pulled himself out of the water by his own hair Munchhausen style I THINK THE FUCK NOT FOLKS

15. No one will ever convince me that they actually jumped out of an upstairs window to escape an explosion and got away without a single scratch. That’s just bullshit.

16. An umbrella that’s also a sword that’s also a gun that’s also not functioning? Yeah, kinda funny, but also really stupid and not at all up to the standards of the usual witty humour of BBC Sherlock.

17. “Sherlock’s in love but who with?” in combination with the “i love you” scene were used to bait us all to start another war between straight!Sherlock and gay!Sherlock supporters in order to make sure as many people as possible would turn in, but the reveal behind this line was utterly disappointing. This was a humiliating and just not cool™ move.

18. They’re not seriously trying to tell us that Eurus, while having an extreme mental and emotional breakdown, built a fake cell in the garden of her old childhood house because Drama™?

19. General conclusion: This whole story of everything being connected and leading back to Moriarty and Sherlock’s childhood just deflated like a big gay balloon full of anticipation. They’ve been talking about this story forever, but the great opportunities it offered were not only ignored, but stuffed into a fucking meat grinder and mashed up into cheap boring mainstream moviemaking.

Also, I still think everything about this season is shady as fuck and I don’t accept a word of it and from now on I’m just gonna mark it down as another victim of 2016. Thank and bye

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Happy Together : 17

So the bell tolls

Character(s): (deceptively) dark!Steve

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. It goes without (and with) saying that this is 18+.

Series Synopsis: The reader is stood up while awaiting a blind date, instead finding herself keeping company with the restaurant’s famous owner; Steve Rogers. After that night, she tries to forget her humiliation but she just can’t shake one thing about that night: him.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Wedding bells ring and the reader hears them clearly.

Notes: Okay, so the fates aligned and I got enough time before work to edit this and get it out so thanks everyone for understanding. I love you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let’s just say, we’re in the endgame now.

I look forward to hearing from you in the replies/reblogs/tags/asks. <3

-

One day. Your last night of freedom. No, not really. That was long ago. 

Time passed swiftly, you could barely keep track. Each morning and night mirrored the last. The same bed, the same room, the same man beside you. You didn't imagine that marriage would be much different. Your life was already his. You belonged to him. The ceremony was only a pretense.

Marriage. The word hovered over you. The reality of it just hours away. One sleep. One dinner. Another performance.

It was startling. How had you let yourself slip so far? Staring at yourself in the white dress, the veil, the ring sparkling on your finger. It was as if your very reflection had shattered before you. The happy bride-to-be wasn't you. It was what Steve had made you. 

Your cheeks hurt from the fake smile, your throat tight as you forced out your lines. He was always watching. Always there. His hand on yours as your mother and father marveled at the man they were all too pleased to call their son-in-law. They swallowed his lies so much easier. For once, they were proud. Not of you, of course, but of the man you attached yourself to.

Steve ordered the wine. He bemoaned that this restaurant lacked the variety of his own. Alas, a meal there would have to wait until after the reno. For now, this would have to do. He requested a Cabernet and your mother cleared her throat.

"Steven," She called him by his full name. She liked that. He did too. "If you will, Jim and I would actually prefer a champagne to celebrate the marriage. Our treat."

"Not at all," Steve waved her away, "I insist. It's on my dime." He turned to the waiter. "Champagne, then. And another glass. We are still awaiting another guest."

The waiter as good as clicked his heels and diligently ran off to fetch the wine. It seemed everyone in the city knew your fiance. Revered him. You had been foolish before. He was more than the local celebrity, he was their saviour. That you had ever thought you could seek refuge in this city was naive.

Heels tapped along the floor and neared your table. Your mother glanced over her shoulder and waved to your sister. Estelle, with her died blonde hair and perfect contouring belonged more than you did. Steve stood and you mimicked him.

Your mother hugged your sister and your father did the same. You recalled how they had barely spared a nod for you. Steve greeted her with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek, "You must be Estelle."

"And you're Steve Rogers," She sang, "Wow, I really thought you guys were playing me."

She turned to you at last. "Hey," Was all you could manage. She chuckled and pulled you into her arms. 

"Hey?" She held you back and looked you up and down. "Is that all I get?"

You felt the tingle behind your eyes. Your lips trembled but you kept your smile in place. "I missed you." 

"Oh yeah? Well, you know I'm always up for a trip to New York." She chided. "You have my number."

"I'm sorry," You didn't realize you had grabbed her hand. You released her slowly.

"No, don't be," She chimed, "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you!"

The waiter returned and you stepped back as he set down the bottle of champagne and the spare glass. You resumed your seat beside Steve, Estelle on your other side, and your heart sank. You loved your sister but even she would think you were crazy. Maybe you were.

Steve poured the champagne and handed the glasses out. "Oh, Essie, you must see the ring," Your mother tapped the table with a long nail, "Come on, show her."

You shakily raised your hand and placed it daintily on the table. The sparkling pink diamonds caught the light and Estelle gasped. "You know she has no taste but Steve did a marvelous job."

"Mom," You rescinded your hand as she reached for it.

"I think she has wonderful taste," Estelle grinned at you. Your mother always agreed with her, even when she was wrong. Her baby girl could do no wrong.

"Well, I'll allow that she had improved. That whole artist look...so drab," She rolled her eyes. 

You couldn't smile anymore. You glanced around at the other diners and gripped the edge of the table. You stood suddenly. Steve caught your hand quickly. Was it concern for you or that you'd try to flee? Could he see the treasonous thoughts behind your eyes?

"I need to use the restroom," You lied. "Excuse me."

Steve nodded and kissed the back of your hand. "Alright, honey." He let you go and Estelle pushed herself back to her feet. "I actually need to freshen up, too. I love the city but it's dirty."

She took your elbow and guided you past the table. You sensed Steve bristle as she did. Her hand slipped down and her fingers twined through yours as you neared the bathrooms. She pulled you inside quickly.

"Why didn't you tell me? I can understand you not telling them, but me?" Her tone was not unkind. She was your best friend after all and in her eyes, you had entirely blocked her out of your life.

"I…" You exhaled and lowered your head. You looked at her hand in yours. "Es," Your eyes were glassy but you sniffed back the tears.

"Did you see anyone?" She asked, "I know in uni, you had to see that counselour…"

"I'm not..." Your voice cracked and you shook your head. "It's been stressful. The wedding. Planning…" You sighed. 

"Mom sent me a picture of the dress. It's amazing," She squeezed your hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner." She swung your hand. "I know it's your special day so I haven't told them yet but I want to tell you."

"What?" You wondered.

"I got a sponsor. In England. Model and brand ambassador for big make-up line. Big," She was giddy. "I'll even be able to incorporate my Instagram. It's actually one of the reasons they hired me."

"That's...wonderful, Es," You hugged her again. Her dream was coming true. "I'm so proud of you. I can't believe--England?"

"Yeah, that's the part mom and dad won't like," She frowned, "But I'll be going all over Europe. Asia, too."

"Fuck them," You said. "Really. They don't matter. You should go and have the time of your life."

"And you? Your art? I checked your website but...are you going to start again after the wedding? I really wanted to sponsor a piece for my apartment...or should I say flat?"

The wedding. You had almost forgot. You felt yourself deflate and you backed up against the sink. "I don't know." You whispered.

"What's wrong?" She leaned next to you against the counter. "Nervous?"

"Yeah," You said weakly. "Nervous."

"Well don't be, I'll be right next to you," She rubbed your back kindly, "Maid of honour, and all."

-

Estelle wasn't enough to save you but enough to make you brave. If this were to be your fate, you'd meet it with dignity. Even in white. Even in misery.

You didn't sleep. Steve spent the night in the den and left you alone. Tradition, he said. Even with the bed to yourself, you couldn't settle. You rose in a daze; groggy and numb. You ate, dressed in jeans and a tee, and followed Steve up the stairs into the early morning light.

A church. Wow. You almost laughed as you drove up to the grand cathedral. It was the place where celebrities and socialites wed, not you. Inside, Steve pecked your cheek and parted as you were left in a small room. A talkative stylist began on your hair and you drank cold coffee from a paper cup.

Your mother arrived shortly after with the dress and was followed by your sister and your collection of bridesmaids. Each had their own stylist and your mother bossed hers around like Meryl Streep in that movie. Estelle told her to stop and you were glad for it. She wouldn't have listened to you.

Your make-up was light. Your face shone as if it were natural beauty and you leaned forward to look in the mirror. You looked good. You didn't want to admit it, but you did.

The dress was a challenge in its. The laces tied tight enough to crush your ribs. You struggled to breath and wobbled as Estelle help you into your heels. The veil was pinned in your hair and a necklace with a single pearl around your neck. You reminded yourself of those gaudy royal weddings that people lost their heads over. Ugh.

You tucked the folded paper Steve gave you that morning and tucked it into your bodice. Your lines. You hadn't read them yet. Dreaded it. You tried to breathe against the tight gown and closed your eyes as your mother's voice rose in another complaint. You didn't know if it was better to get it over with or enjoy the last minutes you had.

-

You hated that smile. That face. You held back a glare and forced your lips to curve in deceit. Steve's voice carried across the caverned ceiling, his words as sickly as they were sweet. You felt as if you would pass out; from lack of air, lack of sleep. lack of sanity. He held your hand as he recited the words. Carefully planned and yet spontaneously pronounced. 

When he went silent, you stared at him. Voices buzzed in your ears, the audience in a ghastly silence. He squeezed your hand and the priest's words came clearer. 

"Miss," He whispered, "Your vows."

You shook your head but the haze remained. With your free hand, you reached into your bodice and uncovered the folded paper. You drew your hand from Steve's and unfolded it with a shudder. You gulped, cleared your throat, but couldn't look at him. So you looked at candlestick behind him.

His writing blurred. Was it nerves or tears? Both. You shook and brought the paper closer. You focused on reading the letters. Speak! You glanced up and Steve's jaw ticked. You peered around the large room. Speak, goddamn it!

"Steve," You forced out, the first syllable the hardest. "Steve, my...love." You swallowed the repulsion. He didn't know. He didn't know you weren't his little doll. Didn't know that when you go the first chance you would run. Yes, run. "I've never been very good at these things. I express myself in pictures rather than words. I am no poet but some things are best said simply." You inhaled and he took your hand again, the other wavered as you concentrated on the paper. "To put it simply, I love you. There's not much more to say than that. Other than I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. You're my true love, my best friend...my hero."

You almost crumpled the paper but instead folded it with one hand and held it to your skirt. The priest smiled at the two of you and made his final pronouncement, "...man and wife…" 

Steve pulled you close and you lifted your head just as his lips crashed into yours. The pews rumbled with applause and your stomach twisted. Finally, he pulled away.

"My wife," He whispered as he turned you to the audience and raised your hand in his, "Mine."

-

Steve hadn’t let go of you since the ceremony. His hand was always there, lingering. The limo ride, the dinner, the toasts. The latter the worst part. Empty words from those you didn’t know and those you did. Your father had taken the lead as your mother had little positive to say about you. ‘Finally, our little girl has got her head on straight--’ You were thankful when he swiped the microphone and you sunk into the endless folds of your skirt.

It all passed in a frightful blur. The time ticked by so quickly you were certain fate had you on some cursed list. You were hurtling towards the end and you weren’t ready for it. 

The DJ announced the imminent first dance and the walls of the grand banquet hall began to close in on you. Five minutes. Five minutes and all eyes would be on you again as you were trapped in the arms that would hold you for the rest of your life.

“Sweetheart,” You tugged on Steve’s hand. His grip was firm. “I gotta---” You struggled not to hyperventilate. “I gotta go…” You tilted your head. “You know…”

“Oh,” He blinked, “Uh, yes. Um, do we have time?”

“I’ll have to make it work,” Your panic was real but the reason not so transparent. “I’ll just...lift my skirts.”

He sighed. His brow furrowed as he thought. His blue eyes considered you. You shifted in your chair to add urgency to your act. 

“I can’t hold it,” You hissed. He shook his head and looked down the table. 

“Get your sister to help,” He checked his watch, “Three minutes.”

He stood and helped you rise. He walked you down the table and you tapped Estelle on the shoulder. You bent over her. “I need your help.” She rose and followed as Steve kept your hand in his. She had imbibed a bit too much already and she hiccuped as she trailed behind.

Steve escorted you to the hall and peered down it with a frown. His jaw twitched and you could see the suspicion whirring in his head. He turned to you as you grabbed Estelle with your free hand. He stared you down and reluctantly let go of you.

“Two minutes,” He warned, “They won’t wait.”

“I promise, I’ll be quick,” You pulled Estelle down the hall, “I need you to help me with my dress…” You let your voice carry.

“Again?” She slurred, “You know, I’ve seen these ones where the skirts come off--”

You turned the corner and glanced over your shoulder. Steve stood at the other end of the hall. His shoulders squared as he crossed his arms and watched after you. You disappeared around the bend and hurried Estelle towards the bathroom. You opened the door but kept her from going in. You let it close with a loud click and listened.

“Wh-” You clapped your hand over her mouth and signaled for her to hush. Her eyes rounded and you slowly pulled away. You knelt and carefully removed your heels as you nodded to her own.

You took your shoes and hers and backed slowly down the hall, keeping an eye over her shoulder as she wobbled after you. You could see the confusion but her drunkenness made her complacent. You gently pressed the long bar of the back door and eased it open. You waved her out and waited for her to follow.

You shut the door quietly and leaned against it. “What’s going on?” Estelle asked.

“I just--need air.” You tossed your heels and hers. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”

“A walk? It’s your wedding--”

“Es, let’s go,” You inclined your head, a desperate grimace on your lips. “Please. I need to get away.”

“Why? You’re so happy and--”

“I can’t explain now, there’s no time,” You lifted your skirts and bunched them in your arms. “Come on.”

“Where--”

“I don’t care where. I need to get out of this city.” You began across the parking lot. “Let’s go.”

She followed and stumbled behind you. You turned to pick her up, your arm around her back as you urged her past the rows of car. She giggled. “I can’t believe you. Running away from your own wedding. It’s like that mov--”

“Shh,” You heard the door and ducked behind an SUV. You pulled her down with you and smothered her mouth again. “I...I’ll go to England with you. Please.” 

She blinked and you kept your hand in place as you listened. Hard soles echoed across the tarmac. You kept low and drew Estelle behind you as you snaked around cars. The footsteps grew fainter until they were almost silent. 

You felt a sudden weight and turned as Estelle crashed into you and belched obnoxiously as she landed on top of you. You swore. Her body went limp atop you and her head slumped over your shoulder. 

The footsteps were upon you in an instant as you were trapped beneath the unconscious Estelle. Steve stepped up between the cars on either side of you and knelt with a huff. He hung his head and ran his hand over his golden hair.

“Honey…” His voice was laced with fury.

“Estelle...I just came to help her. She said she was gonna vomit and--”

“Shut up,” Steve snarled as he grabbed Estelle and lifted her easily from atop you. “And get up.” 

He slung her body over his shoulder and grabbed your hand as he stood. He turned you back to the banquet hall and dragged you along, your bare feet scraping on the pavement. 

“It’s too bad your sister had to ruin our night like this...your parents will be so disappointed.”

-

tags to be added in reblog