#love this man and i wish him all the love he deserves

[fireinmoonshot]

all this time | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Despite the fact that you're his older sisters best friend, Joaquín has always had a crush on you. Little does he know, you feel the same way. But how can either of you act on it when you can't hurt his sister? Warnings: Reader wears dresses, has hair long enough to at least reach her shoulders. Mentions of food. Joaquín being completely oblivious... other than that I think it's all fine! Word Count: 7.8k A/N: I think this is the longest fic I've ever posted on this blog (not including my multi-parters)... this was requested by a lovely anon and I started brainstorming the idea when I was at work the other day (plenty of time to think when I'm in the walk-in fridge) and then I got so hooked on the idea and it somehow became this almost 8000 word piece. I loved writing this one so much though. In this, I have named Joaquín's sister Catalina, nicknamed Lina – if this happens to be your name, feel free to just pick another name for her. It's just one I liked! I really hope everyone that reads enjoys this. It was a challenge to write but I loved every second of it! 💗

“It’s like the forbidden fruit, huh?” Marcos turns to Joaquin with a grin. He takes a sip of his beer and then points the bottle across the backyard towards where you’re standing by the back door of his parents house.

Joaquin frowns, his eyebrows knotting together and undoubtedly causing an expression to appear on his face that his mother would berate him about making in public. “What?”

Marcos points the bottle towards you again. “Catalina’s friend. She’s like the forbidden fruit. The most gorgeous girl here but the only girl that none of us can have, unless we want to deal with your sisters wrath. And no one wants Catalina’s wrath.” 

For a moment, Joaquin simply stares at his cousin. He can’t say any of the things that are currently swimming through his mind. Though Marcos deserves to hear all of them, none of them are particularly family friendly and there are several people sitting around the two of them that he’d rather not offend. 

“Don’t talk about my sisters friend like that,” is all he can manage before he picks up his own beer from the table and walks away, leaving Marcos staring after him, dumbfounded. 

He shakes his head as he walks over towards the barbecue where his uncle has just started to grill some meat. How his favourite uncle managed to have a son like Marcos, Joaquin will never be able to comprehend.

“What did he say now?” Uncle Jorge says, glancing over at Joaquin as he turns over a piece of meat. “There’s only one reason you would’ve walked over here and it’s not because you want to talk to your favourite tío.”

Joaquin chuckles. “Believe me, you don’t wanna know.”

He looks around the backyard, taking in the scene. His family, neighbours, friends, everyone he really cares about all in the same place, except for Sam – he’d been summoned away to help his sister and his nephews for the weekend. Despite his absence, this is a rare occasion, and one he’s glad to be experiencing.

He can’t help it when his eyes catch on you. You’re still standing over closer to the back door of the house with his sister, a drink in your hand. The sundress you’re wearing suits you a lot. The colour compliments your skin perfectly. The breeze blows some of your hair back off of your shoulders and his breath catches in his throat. He’s well aware the situation is all very similar to a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles. 

Joaquin has barely been able to take his eyes off of you ever since he first saw you arrive, and who can blame him when you look like that? To be fair… you always look gorgeous, but today you look especially gorgeous. 

The words Marcos had said trickle into his mind again and he winces a little. He wishes that people like Marcos didn’t get to enjoy looking at you when you looked so beautiful. 

“Joaquin, are you listening?” 

He blinks, tearing his eyes away from you and back to his uncle. “Sorry, I got distracted. What were you saying?”

His uncle looks over his shoulder, looking exactly where Joaquin had been looking, and chuckles to himself. “Yeah, distracted, sure. Can you pass me the tongs over there?”

Joaquin passes him the tongs, ignoring the comment about him being distracted, and forces himself to look away from you. Even when he hears you laugh and he wants nothing more than to look at you and see the smile on your face. He loves seeing you smile.

Thankfully, his uncle doesn’t say anything more about catching him staring at you. Joaquin helps him with grilling up the rest of the meat, completely unaware that you are now the one staring at him from across the yard.

You can’t help it – Joaquin is and always has been gorgeous.

You watch as a girl around Joaquin’s age, a few years younger than you, walks up to Joaquin where he’s standing near the grill with his uncle and starts making conversation. The feeling that settles in your chest isn’t an unfamiliar one, but it is unwelcome.

“Catalina,” you start, getting the attention of your friend. “Who’s that Joaquin’s with?”

She looks up from her phone at you and then across the backyard to where you’re looking, right at Joaquin. “Oh, I know her but I can’t remember her name,” she says, thinking for a moment to try and remember it but failing. “She’s the daughter of one of the neighbours, I think they live three doors up.”

You make a noise of understanding to let Lina know that you heard her but you can’t manage to tear your eyes away from Joaquin and the young woman. They’re both smiling as they speak. It’s when she reaches out and touches his arm that you force yourself to look away. You take a long sip of your drink to try and push down the feeling in your chest.

Catalina looks at you, amused. “Why are you asking?”

“No reason,” you shake your head, sipping your drink again just for something to do. “I just thought she looked familiar, but obviously not. I wouldn’t have seen her before.”

You can tell that Lina doesn’t believe a single word that you’re saying. She’s been able to read you like a book for over half of your lives at this point. You just hope that she’s not intuitive enough to realise that you have been harbouring a major crush on her little brother for most of that time, despite your exhaustive efforts to stop it.

You’ve known Joaquin for as long as you’ve known Lina. When you’d met her at school, she’d introduced you to her younger brother not long after. He had just been a kid, then – a young boy who wanted to follow his sister around all day. It had been fine as children, Joaquin almost becoming like a little brother to you too, but once you’d become teenagers and you and Lina just wanted to spend girl time together, things had changed.

When you’d sleepover at Lina’s house as children, it was fine. You didn’t care about Joaquin seeing you in your pyjamas or in the morning when you’d just woken up. As a teenager, though, those were things that started to matter to you. For the first time since you’d known Joaquin, you’d started to care about the way he saw you. It had all been downhill from there.

“Yeah, no reason, sure,” Lina huffs from beside you, putting her phone in the pocket of her shorts. She’s heard the exact same question from Joaquin while referring to people who were talking to you more times than she can count. He’d never managed to come up with excuses as to why he’d been asking, though. 

She reaches out and takes your now empty glass from you. You hadn’t even realised that you’d drained it completely while trying to distract from the conversation with her.

“I’m going to get us some refills,” she says, starting to walk back towards the house. “Go and talk to my brother, will you? He looks in need of saving, judging by the look on his face.” 

You watch her, confused, as she retreats inside the house. It’s only when she’s gone that you look back over at Joaquin. His uncle, who was standing beside him, has now disappeared, and the smiles that Joaquin had been giving the young girl have turned to grimaces, despite his best attempts to keep his facial expression neutral.

You don’t waste time, knowing there’s not long until Catalina returns with your new drinks, and start crossing the yard towards Joaquin. He sees you in his peripheral vision not too long before you reach him. He notices instantly that you look even more stunning in this outfit up close.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” you start, sounding not sorry at all. “But your sister is looking for you, Joaquin. She asked me to come and find you.” 

Joaquin looks between you and the girl. He’s so terrible, he can’t even remember the poor girls name. “Ah, duty calls,” he flashes the girl what he hopes is a genuine grin instead of the look that he’s sure was on his face before you arrived. “I’ll see you around.”

Smiling to yourself, you start to walk away, knowing that Joaquin will be following you. He falls into step beside you as you walk away from the grill and back towards the house. You feel his hand brush against your back, hovering behind you as you walk – a feeling you’re used to when you’re around Joaquin. 

“Lina isn’t looking for me, is she?”

“No, but she did sense you were in need of rescue.”

Joaquin laughs softly. “Ah, so she sent you. My knight in shining armour.”

You glance over at him as you stop just outside the back door of the house, not far from where you and Lina had been standing before. “I see a damsel in distress, I don’t hesitate.”

Something passes between the two of you as you look at each other, but as quickly as it came, it disappears. You’re both aware of it, of the spark of energy between the two of you. 

It’s the kind of feeling that you’d chased in several other men during your adulthood. None of your failed relationships had ever been able to create such a feeling, not even the best of them. Not even the one relationship you’d thought might turn into marriage and a future together. The one that Joaquin had seen you crying on Lina’s shoulder over when you’d had your heart smashed into a million tiny pieces.

Joaquin doesn’t like to think about that, though. Or any of your exes.

“So, are you enjoying the barbecue?” Joaquin asks in an attempt to break the silence.

You smooth your palms out on your dress, feeling them start to become sweaty with your nerves. You’re not sure exactly why you’re nervous – it’s just Joaquin, the same Joaquin you’ve known since you can remember. But there are tiny parts of him that are different. He’s an Avenger now. He’s the Falcon. He’d almost died a few months ago. The fact that you’re even here having this conversation still feels a little surreal to you. You remember sitting in the hospital waiting room holding Lina’s hand and trying to keep it together yourself when you were just as terrified as she was. 

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum, meeting his eyes briefly. “It’s good to see everyone.”

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, it’s not often everyone gets together like this. I–uh– I’m really glad you could make it,” he stumbles over his words a little. “Lina said you had to move some things around in your schedule to make it work, but I’m glad you did. It’d be weird without you here.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Weird without me?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, just cause… y’know… you’re practically part of the family.”

“Ah,” you nod, smiling a little. “I guess I am at this point.”

An arm drapes around your shoulder and you’re immediately torn out of the moment with Joaquin by Lina’s return. She hands your drink to you and smiles over at her brother.

“Did she save the day, little brother?” Lina asks, grinning at him.

You’ve always loved the relationship between Lina and Joaquin. They’ve had many an argument in your presence, mostly as teenagers, but as adults it’s fairly civil. Joaquin has always looked up to his older sister and Lina has always wanted to make a good impression on her younger brother. It made for a pretty happy relationship most of the time. It’s part of the reason you’ve never brought up your crush on him to Lina. You never want to come between them.

Joaquin nods. “Yeah, ‘course she did.”

“That’s our girl,” Lina says proudly, removing her arm so she can stand next to you properly. “How was your conversation with our neighbour? She’s cute, no?” 

You look between Joaquin and Lina, a little surprised that she’s bringing up the girl when she couldn’t even remember her name and even more surprised because she’d sent you over there to rescue Joaquin from that girl.

He raises his eyebrows at his sister. “If you like that sort of girl, sure. You asking for my opinion, Catalina? I thought you weren’t interested in dating anyone at the moment.”

Lina scoffs and waves her hand dismissively. “Not for me, you fool. I’m talking about you. I thought you told me that you wanted to start dating again now that you’re all healed up from your accident? Sam told me you have women and men lining up for you now that you’re the Falcon. He was worried it would go to your head.”

Joaquin opens his mouth and tries to come up with something to say but eventually settles on a very weak, “I did not say that!” He looks at you and then at his sister, internally cursing her out for saying that in front of you. Not that Catalina knew any better. Joaquin was very careful about keeping his crush on you a secret. 

“If you say so, little brother,” Lina shrugs her shoulders and then reaches down to take hold of your wrist. “I just saw Uncle Jorge put the burgers out on the table, let’s go and get some before my cousins raid the table and get them all first.”

Before you can say anything else to Joaquin, Lina starts dragging you away. You turn around and catch his eye as you walk away. Joaquin sends you a small wave, smiling at his sister and her ease to exit a conversation without a single thought. They’re more alike than Joaquin realises.

–––––

Later in the evening, after the barbecue is long over and most of the guests have returned to their homes or retired inside for the rest of the evening, you and Catalina are helping to clean up some of the mess that was left in the backyard. All things considered, it’s pretty clean except for a few pieces of rubbish here and there. Lina and Joaquin’s parents had insisted that everyone clean up after themselves and mostly, people had. 

Joaquin had gone home a few hours ago, saying that he still needed plenty of rest after his accident since he was still recovering from it, and none of the family had disagreed with him even though none of them wanted him to leave.

He’d hugged you before he left, like he’d hugged all of the family. You can still feel the small kiss he’d pressed to your cheek out of pure habit after kissing the cheeks of his abuelas and tías. You hadn’t missed the way his cheeks had flushed a little after he realised.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Catalina says as she puts an empty paper plate in the trash bag that she’s holding. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You look up from where you’ve been cleaning a spilled drink off the top of the table. “You wish I’d give you a penny for my thoughts, Catalina,” you chuckle, using her full name just to irritate her a little. 

Lina rolls her eyes at you and then takes a seat at one of the chairs. She motions at you to take the other one and reluctantly, you do. You know that Lina initiating a conversation like this is never going to end well. 

“I’m not going to beat around the bush on this,” she begins, making your stomach start to do backflips with nerves. You’re not sure why – Lina has never given you a reason to be nervous around her in the entire time you’ve known her. But for some reason, this time feels a little different. “I know you have a crush on my brother, querida. I know why you’ve been trying to stop me from finding out, but I know you and I know what I see.”

There’s no point trying to deny it. You know that even if you did try and deny it, Lina wouldn’t believe you for a second. That’s just the kind of person she is and always has been.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter sheepishly. “I won’t lie to you, Lina. I’ve liked him for a while now and I’ve been trying to get over him but I’ve failed a million times. And after his accident a few months back, I can’t seem to get him out of my head.”

Lina reaches across the table and places her hand over the top of yours. “You don’t need to be sorry. I kind of understand. I’ve been worried about him even more than usual since the accident. It’s made me want to spend every second with him that I can. It’s also the whole reason why I’m bringing this up with you now. I tried to start a conversation about it when Quin was there earlier, about him wanting to date again, but obviously he’s not ready for that conversation…”

“What conversation?”

“We almost lost Joaquin a few months ago, querida. Why waste more time? You don’t need it, but I’m giving you my blessing to pursue things with him if that’s what you want. You’re my best friend, have been ever since I can remember. If there’s anyone that I trust with my brother, it’s you,” Lina says. You can hear the honesty in her voice.

There’s still doubt in you, though. 

“Are you sure?” You question, a little hesitant. “I mean… he’s your baby brother.”

Lina smiles. “Yeah, he is. Which means his happiness is one of the most important things in the world to me. And if he likes you back, like I’m pretty sure he does – call it sisterly instinct – then being with you would make him very happy. He’s obviously not going to do anything about it, judging by the way he deflected me earlier, but you just might.” 

You look at her for a few moments before getting up from your chair and walking around to her side of the table, your arms extended. She laughs as she stands up, happily hugging you back. She squeezes you tight. 

“Besides, if you and Joaquin work out, it would make you my actual sister… and I secretly always wished that I could have a sister instead of a brother when I was younger…” Lina mutters in your ear.

You laugh at her as you pull away from the hug. “I basically already am your sister, Lina.”

“I know,” she shrugs, picking up the trash bag again and starting to pick up the last few pieces of rubbish. “But this way, it’d be official. And… y’know, if Joaquin starts dating someone then it might make our parents stop asking me when I’m getting married.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you pick up the cloth you’d been using before. “This is all just a ploy to make it so that Joaquin and I are the ones being pressured to get married so your parents will get off your back… fair play, Torres. Fair play.”

She flashes you a grin. “Come on, let’s finish cleaning all this up so we can go home.”

–––––

There’s an added pressure the next time you see Joaquin. Even though it’s not the two of you alone and there are other people there, the fact that you know Catalina is silently cheering you on and that she thinks Joaquin likes you back makes it a little more real.

It’s not just a little one-sided crush anymore.

Joaquin throws his hands up in the air and cheers as his bowling ball knocks down all ten pins and scores a strike. “Did you see that!?” He exclaims, walking back towards the rest of you. 

“Well, yeah,” Lina replies, “We are all watching you.”

He gives her a look as he takes his seat beside you and one of your other friends, Jack, goes up for his turn. Joaquin pulls his phone out and takes a picture of his score on the TV screen above your heads.

“First strike of the night,” Joaquin grins, turning to look at you. 

His thigh is pressed against yours, owing to the small benches at the Bowling Alley. You’ve squashed four people onto each bench when they’re really only made to sit three and have split your group into two teams – it’s basically you and Joaquin vs Lina, with your other friends split evenly between the teams. 

“Oh, did you get a strike?” You feign surprise. “I must’ve been looking at my phone when you did it and I definitely didn’t hear you yelling about how excited you were afterwards.”

Joaquin laughs and nudges his shoulder against yours. “Shut up,” he says jokingly. “Have you been spending too much time around my sister? I might have to kidnap you and try and get rid of the mind-wipe she’s obviously done on you.”

“Who said spending time with your sister is a bad thing?” You reply, amused. “I never get to see you anymore since you’re always off saving the world so at least I still have one Torres around.”

It’s the truth. Joaquin is barely around anymore and you have to admit that you miss seeing him. You were surprised when he’d replied to the group text and said that he’d be joining you all at Bowling tonight. 

Joaquin’s face drops ever so slightly at your words but he tries his best to mask it. He didn’t realise that you had noticed his absence so much. “Well, someone’s gotta do it,” he jokes. “And if Lina is such great company, why aren’t you on her team, huh?” 

You look over at Lina, right as she stands up to go and take her turn. You try your best to summon some of her confidence. “Cause I missed you, that’s why,” you say, trying desperately to stop your voice from shaking. Telling Joaquin you miss him should not be this terrifying, yet it somehow is. 

He looks at you for a moment, lips barely parted. You watch as his tongue swipes out, running across his lips, before he closes his mouth and nods at your words. “I, uh, I missed you too.”

You glance up at the scoreboard. There are still a few other people who have to bowl before it’s your turn again and if you’re going to flirt with Joaquin tonight, now is your chance. “You did?” You hum, raising your eyebrows at him. “How much did you miss me?”

Joaquin is pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting. Are you trying to flirt with him? Is that what’s happening right now? He’s no stranger to people flirting with him, especially since becoming the Falcon, but you? The last time you flirted with him was when you were teenagers and you both hadn’t quite figured out what your feelings were yet. 

You can’t be flirting with him, though. You wouldn’t dare – especially since Catalina is your best friend. Joaquin is sure of that. There’s no way you’d even try something with him on the off chance you’d hurt Lina’s feelings. But there’s a look in your eye that Joaquin hasn’t seen there before and if he wasn’t internally panicking so much, he’s pretty sure he’d flirt right back.

“Uh,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, a bit.”

He stands then, taking you off guard, and excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving you confused and a little hurt at him brushing you off. Were you that bad at flirting or was he just not interested? 

Lina finishes her turn and comes to take Joaquin’s empty seat beside you. She leans in close so that none of your other friends can hear what she’s saying. “What was that with Joaquin?”

“I tried flirting and he totally shut down,” you admit.

She rests her hand over yours and gives it a reassuring pat. “Remember what I said after the barbecue? About him not being ready for the conversation I wanted to have with him?”

You nod, the night coming back to you as clear as day even though it was a couple of weeks ago now. 

“Give him some time to warm up to the idea,” Lina finishes. 

She stands up and heads back over to her own seat just in time for Joaquin to come back and rejoin the group, sitting beside you again.

There is silence for a few moments as the last member in your team has their go. You’re trying to summon Lina’s confidence again when Alex finishes her turn and tells you that it’s your go again.

You stand, brushing your sweaty palms on the fabric of your jeans as you head to grab your bowling ball. You’re pretty sure it comes across as just trying to dry your hands before bowling, but you know that Joaquin has seen through that when you hear him cheer your name to try and hype you up for your go.

Jack and Alex join in with the cheering and you smile at them all over your shoulder as you walk up to take your turn. You don’t end up hitting a strike like Joaquin, but you do manage to take down a few of the pins and help in getting your team a better score.

As you walk back towards the group once your turn is over, Joaquin is walking towards you to take his own turn. He raises his hand for a high-five, which you give him. 

“Great score,” he grins, grabbing his ball from the machine. “I mean, it’s no strike but it wasn’t terrible.” 

You can’t help but smile at his teasing. Maybe Catalina was right, maybe you did just have to give him time to warm up to it all and you’d just come on too strong earlier. “Are you offering private lessons?” You ask, not intending to flirt but just trying to joke with him. You only realise once the words are out of your mouth that they sound much more like flirting than a joke.

Joaquin looks at you for a moment and then laughs, but you can tell his heart isn’t in it. Your stomach drops. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

He walks away, heading up to take his turn, and you know that you’ve really put your foot in it this time. He’d basically just rejected you. No, I’m not. His words ring out in your mind. You’ve clearly misread the signals and so has Lina. If Joaquin actually really liked you, he surely wouldn’t have brushed you off so strongly. 

Instead of heading back to your own seat, you head over to Lina. She eyes you, a little concerned just based on the look on your face.

“I’m not feeling too good, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you tell her. “My turns are over anyway, it’s just the rest of the team to go. You can text me and tell me who won.” 

Lina stands up immediately, knowing something is wrong. “You sure? What’s going on? Do you want me to come home with you?” She lowers her voice a little. “What did my brother say?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head. “I swear. I just feel sick.”

She looks at you for a moment and you can tell that she doesn’t believe a word but thankfully, she agrees to let you go. She walks you to your car and doesn’t leave until you’re in it and out of the parking lot.

–––––

The second Joaquin sits in the passenger seat of Lina’s car, he regrets not driving himself to Ten Pin Bowling. The game is over and your friends have all gone home. Joaquin’s team won, mostly owing to him throwing two strikes in his last two games, but he never really felt up to celebrating the victory once you went home.

It’s silent until Lina pulls the car out onto the road. 

“So, do you think you’re too good for her now that you’re the Falcon or something?” Lina says, completely out of left field. “Cause it’s my job as your sister to humble you and believe me, I will.”

Joaquin’s jaw drops. “What the– Lina, I’m so lost here.”

She glances across at him before looking back at the road. If she looks at him too much, she knows she’ll get distracted arguing, and she is driving a car at the moment. That still has to be her main focus, even if she’s busy yelling at her brother.

“Why are you fucking things up with my best friend?” Lina is basically shooting daggers out of her eyes at him. “I’ve known that you’ve had the hots for her since you were like fifteen, Quin! So, why, after she shows an interest in you, are you brushing her off?!”

Joaquin is completely lost for words. His sister knows that he likes you? She’s aware that you were flirting with him tonight? He feels like he’s missing out on a lot of crucial information right now.

“Because she’s your best friend!” Joaquin replies, defensive. “Are you telling me that you want me to get together with her? Did you get hit in the head by a bowling ball tonight?”

Lina lets out a groan as she pulls up at a red light. “Ay dios mío, Joaquin.” 

He stares at her, confused by how annoyed she is. Does she not care that he likes you? But why wouldn’t she – as a teenager she’d told him on more than one occasion that you were her friend and that he wasn’t allowed to even consider stealing you from her. Why, as an adult, would she allow him to basically do that very thing? 

“Lina, would you please tell me what’s going on?”

She turns to look at him and he’s already a little afraid just based off of the look on her face. Catalina never looks at him like that. It’s the exact same look of wrath that Marcos had referenced at the barbecue a few weeks ago, the one he’d said no one wanted to deal with. And here he was, the very subject of it.

“She was flirting with you at the bowling alley tonight, Quin,” Lina sighs, clearly already exhausted from this conversation. “You’re the reason that she left early. You must’ve said or done something that hurt her feelings. She didn’t say anything to me, but she’s my best friend. I can tell when she’s lying to me, and she was.”

Lina looks back at the road as the light goes green and puts her foot down on the accelerator. She doesn’t say anything else after that, deciding to let her words sink into Joaquin’s mind for a bit.

He was the reason you left early? Admittedly, he had been a little confused as to why you were flirting with him tonight. He probably hadn’t dealt with that in the best way. But hearing you say things like ‘How much did you miss me?’ and ‘Are you offering private lessons?’ in the way that you did had left him all hot under the collar. How else was he supposed to deal with that? 

You’re his older sisters best friend. You’ve been in his life ever since he can really remember. He’s been basically in love with you since you were teenagers, but he’s never let himself even consider the possibility that you weren’t the forbidden fruit Marcos had called you. That all along, Lina actually never cared if he liked you. 

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” He looks over at his sister.

Lina nods. “You did, little brother. You really did.”

–––––

Three days have passed since the failed attempt at flirting at Ten Pin Bowling. You’ve seen Lina, going out for coffee with her twice. But Joaquin hasn’t so much as texted you, so you assume that he’s gone back to work with Captain America and try to get back into your daily routine. 

You misread the signs and that was okay. Or so you’re telling yourself anyway. Even though every time you think about the way that Joaquin had shut you down, your stomach ends up in knots.

It’s late at night and you’re just about to get up from the couch and finally go to bed after staring at the crappy TV programmes for way too long when you hear a knock on your door. 

Stifling a yawn, you head over to the door. You’re so exhausted enough from your long day at work that you don’t even think to look through the peephole on your door before you open it. If you had, you probably would have pretended not to be home.

Because Joaquin Torres stands on the other side of your door.

He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white shirt, his hands tucked into the pockets of the jeans. He has a sheepish look on his face, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about him turning up here at this time of night, but all you can think about is the fact that he looks good… too good, really.

“Hi,” Joaquin manages.

He sounds nervous, which is strange. Joaquin Torres doesn’t get nervous, not really. He’s the most overconfident person you’ve ever met and you love that about him. You’ve barely ever heard him stutter or stumble over words.

“Hi,” you mutter. “What are you doing here?”

Joaquin is pretty sure he blacked out on his way to your apartment. He remembers getting out of his car, but the walk into the building and the elevator ride up to your floor is all a blur. He’s not sure what he expected to see when you opened the door, but seeing you standing there in your pyjamas, hair out and face make-up free, is not it. You look even more gorgeous than you did at the barbecue. 

“I’m sorry. It’s late,” Joaquin blinks, the fact that you’re in your pyjamas finally hitting him. He’s hit with a memory, then – you’re sixteen years old, staying over at his house for a sleepover. He’s almost fifteen. He walks into the kitchen as you’re getting a glass of water early in the morning and all of sudden you’re whisper-yelling at him to get out, saying something about him not being able to see you when you’re in your pyjamas. He almost laughs at the memory and then composes himself. “Should I go?”

You shake your head. “No, you can come in.” You’re not sure what you’re doing. You’re letting Joaquin into your apartment at 11 o’clock at night? And you’re letting him see you in your pyjamas. Your sixteen year old self would freak. 

Joaquin hesitantly steps into your apartment and closes the door behind himself, then kicks off his shoes. He notices that all your curtains are drawn and the main lights are off, the room only lit up by a few lamps. The TV is still on but the volume is so low he can’t make out what’s being said. 

“You never answered my question,” you state, walking over and leaning against the arm of your couch. Joaquin tries not to look at the way your pyjama shorts rise a little as you sit. 

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t,” he nods. “I was thinking about that time in my old house where you yelled at me in the kitchen because I wasn’t allowed to see you in pyjamas. And here I am, seeing you in your pyjamas.”

Against your better judgment, a small smile makes its way onto your face. You and him had been thinking about the same thing, then. Funny, how even after all these years, things hadn’t changed in some ways. But in others, everything had. 

“That doesn’t explain your presence today, Joaquin,” you hum, though you’re still smiling a little at the memory. “You said it yourself. It’s late. But you wouldn’t be here without a reason.”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am here for a reason,” he confirms. “I wanted to say sorry about the way I acted at Ten Pin Bowling the other night. You were flirting with me and I got freaked out. Catalina was there and I was worried about what she’d say.”

“It’s okay, Joaquin. You don’t have to apologise. I should be the one saying sorry for flirting with you in the first place,” you shrug. “I misread the signs and I was wrong.”

Joaquin shakes his head and takes a step towards you. “No, don’t apologise either. I, uh… I got yelled at by Lina after we left the bowling alley. She was driving me home and she said some things that I didn’t realise I really needed to hear.” 

Lina had filled you in on the conversation that she’d had with Joaquin on their drive home when you’d had coffee with her two days ago, but she hadn’t told you anything that Joaquin had said. She’d only explained to you that she’d tried to knock some sense into him, but that with Joaquin, it could have all gone in one ear and out the other. 

Clearly, some of it hadn’t gone out the other ear.

“I’m listening.”

Joaquin takes another step towards you and then he begins. 

“I started crushing on you not long before that morning in the kitchen when we were teenagers. I didn’t really realise what the feelings were at the time. All I knew is that I loved whenever you came over to hang out with Catalina and I loved when you both let me hang out with you, too. Then, when you were seventeen you started dating Bobby Hernandez and I discovered what it felt like to be jealous. I was so mad when I found out that Bobby had cheated on you with another girl in your grade that I would have beat him up if Lina hadn’t beaten me to the punch, quite literally.”

Your heart starts beating a little faster in your chest at his words. He’d had a crush on you as a teenager and you had no idea? Even when the only reason you’d started dating Bobby Hernandez was because you were so desperately trying to pretend you didn’t like Joaquin?

“When you and my sister went off to college, that was the hardest part,” he continues. “It was the first time in my life that I was really alone. I had friends, but learning to live without seeing you and Catalina every day was tough. Then, that first summer you came home and you brought your boyfriend home to visit. I remember his name was Seth and every time I saw you with him, it was like I was being punched in the stomach. As much as I wish I didn’t, I remember the name of every guy you brought home. I was trying so hard to pretend like I didn’t care. Catalina apparently saw through me every time.

I remember when I came home after being deployed and I met Gabriel. The first thing that my mom said when I saw her after you’d introduced her was ‘That’s the man our girl is going to marry’ and all I could think about was the fact that it was so wrong. He wasn’t the man you should be marrying. I remember coming around to my sisters house a few years later and letting myself in only to see you in tears on her shoulder. I left before either of you could see that I was there. It’s a good thing I never knew much more about the man other than his name and his job otherwise I probably would have done to him what I wanted to do to Bobby Hernandez, and that probably wouldn’t have gone down well as an adult.”

You have to keep reminding yourself to breathe as you listen to Joaquin talk, but every word he says seems to knock the breath out of you. Every word is as unbelievable as the last. His crush hadn’t just been when you were a teenager. It had lasted through your other relationships, through Gabriel. The man you thought you would marry. And all along, Joaquin had been there, knowing that you wouldn’t because he’d been hoping it was him.

“Why– why did you never say anything?” You ask, even though you already know why.

Joaquin smiles, slightly sadly. “You know why, angel. The one person that ties us together is the one reason neither of us said anything. Hurting Catalina was the last thing either of us ever wanted to do. But…”

“But she’s known all along,” you breathe.

“She’s known all along,” he agrees.

You look at him for a moment, then, noticing the way his eyebrows are drawn together, at the small, sad smile on his face. The way his arms look as they’re crossed over his chest, the way his white shirt accentuates everything you’re trying not to notice. The man in front of you, the one you’ve been in love with all this time, feels the same way about you.

“I only dated the men that I did because I was trying to avoid my feelings for you,” you admit, your voice soft. It’s something you’ve never said out loud before, not even to yourself. Before now, it’s only been a thought in your head, admitted to yourself only.

“Really?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod. “I really did think I was going to marry Gabriel, though. But I think it’s just because I convinced myself he was what I deserved. In the end, he hurt me just like Bobby Hernandez did. He would’ve deserved what he got if you found him.”

The whole time Joaquin has been talking, he’s slowly been walking closer towards you. Now, he’s so close that you could reach out and touch him. That feeling, the energy that runs between the two of you, you can feel it again now. It usually disappears quickly, but today it lingers as you both look in each others eyes. 

“You still have his address?” Joaquin jokes, lips twitching up into a smile.

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes. “What, now that you’re the Falcon you think you can just swoop in and kick his ass for me? You don’t have vibranium wings yet, honey.”

He shrugs. “I do have wings, though. I’d be gone for a few days at least, though. You’d have to live without me while I was gone. Do you reckon you could manage that?” He teases.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I might miss you when you’re gone.”

Joaquin takes a step towards you. “Oh, yeah?” He raises his eyebrows. “How much?”

“As much as any girl misses the man she loves.”

Upon hearing your words, Joaquin can’t hold himself back any longer. He closes the gap between you and cups your jaw in one of his hands before leaning down to press his lips to yours. Kissing you is instantly as easy as breathing, like he’s done it a million times before when in reality, this is one kiss over a decade in the making. He feels your hand on his waist, feels the warmth of it through his thin t-shirt, and the sensation urges him to kiss you deeper. His other hand rests on your back, holding you upright so you don’t tip backwards onto the couch as he kisses you.

The feeling of your lips on his is unlike any feeling he knows. Your lips are sweet, owing to the lip balm you’re wearing, and your skin is soft under his. He never wants this moment to end. He’d kiss you forever if it were possible.

But, eventually the two of you have to break apart to breathe and the moment comes to an end. You rest your foreheads against each others as you attempt to catch your breath. Your hand is fisted in his t-shirt and his thumb is swiping gently back and forth over your cheek. 

“So, do you offer private lessons?” You manage to say.

Joaquin laughs, the sound like music to your ears. “That depends,” he replies. “Am I a better kisser than your exes?” 

“I’m not even going to answer that question… just kiss me again.”

“Whatever you want, angel.” 

His lips meet yours again and the sound you make as they do sets Joaquin’s heart alight. His hand grips your back tighter as he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer. Your legs in those tiny pyjama shorts. The pyjamas he wasn’t allowed to see you wearing as a teenager, the ones he’s kissing you senseless in now.

He’s not sure he’s ever going to be able to leave this apartment.

–––––

“Finally,” Lina exclaims, clapping her hands together as she sees you and Joaquin walking into the diner, your hands entwined. 

You and Joaquin share a look, amused, before sliding into the booth opposite Catalina. She looks at you both, eyebrows raised, pressing you both to explain everything to her. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen her since you and Joaquin had finally gotten together. That night had ended up being a particularly long one and Joaquin hadn’t left until the following morning. You’d had a lot of catching up to do, among other things, after discovering you’d been pining for each other for so many years without really realising it. 

“We talked things out,” you state. “I don’t think you’d wanna hear all the details, Lina.” 

Catalina screws her nose up. “Oh, please no. Gross. Don’t even plant images like that in my mind,” she shakes her head. 

Joaquin laughs and strokes his thumb over your hand from where he’s still holding it. “You walked right into that one, Lina.” 

She makes another look of disgust and takes a sip of her drink. “Anyway, moving swiftly on from that… when’s the wedding?”

It’s your turn to laugh, this time, but Lina stays deadly serious as she looks between you both. It’s only when you stop laughing that you realise that she wasn’t asking it as a joke.

“We’ve been officially dating for like four days.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been in love for what, fifteen years? Let’s go, chop chop,” she claps her hands in time with her words. “I want to officially be able to call you my sister.” 

Joaquin chuckles. “You’re part of the reason we’ve wasted those years not being together, Lina. Forgive us if we want to actually date for the first time before the whole marriage thing.”

You squeeze his hand under the table and he turns to look at you, a smile on his face. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, ignoring the sound that Lina makes at the public display of affection. 

He’d almost died a few months ago without knowing your true feelings. You’d both wasted so much time trying to get over the other without knowing. 

Joaquin is going to make sure he never wastes another second with you.

–––––

Joaquín Torres Tag List (Please ask if you'd like to be added!)

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[dollbrbie]

♡ ⸝⸝ THE BREAKUP

cw. fratboy isagi, so so so angsty, isagi really gets his feelings hurt :(

“i think we should break up.”

isagi gives a slight huff, “it’s not funny when you say things like that.”

you breath in, “i’m not joking, isagi.”

he turns around to face you, currently sat on his bed with your brows pinched together slightly. it was clear you had been thinking about something.

“what’s going on, baby?”, he asks, his tone more concerned.

you debated telling him the truth, making yourself look like a fool and having isagi so easily convince you that you’re wrong. he’s too reassuring like that.

ever since you heard everyone say you weren’t good enough for him, that you were too mean, too much for someone like isagi, it just kept playing on your mind like an endless loop, causing you to second guess yourself over and over.

because as much as you hate to admit it, they were right. you were mean, way too mean for a guy like isagi. he’s so sweet and genuine with not a nasty bone in his body. he deserves to be treated like a king, to have a girlfriend adore him just as much as he adores you.

but were you really that? are you really giving him everything he truly deserves?

“i just don’t think.. we’re really working out.”, you sigh.

he frowns, “you don’t think that at all. why’re you saying this?”, the hurt evident in his voice.

and that hurts you.

“isagi, stop.”

he doesn’t.

“no. tell me why you’re saying this. you’re not throwing our whole relationship away because in your eyes we’re suddenly ‘not working out’.”, he explains with air quotes, “you don’t get to say that without some explanation, it’s fucked up.”

you wish he just made it easier for you, to just accept this. but now having to rip the bandaid off you say, “fine then. i just don’t want to be with you anymore.”

there’s a long pause where isagi just processes what you say, “you don’t mean that.”, he whimpers, his eyes glossy.

of course you didn’t mean that. god, the look on his face hurt you more than anything, your own heart heavy. that’s when you knew you had really hurt his feelings and that’s the last thing you ever wanted to do. but, this was in isagi’s best interest.. right?

“i do.”, you whisper, you eyes down as you fiddle with your fingers, sat cross cross on his bed.

“why? what did i do? i can fix it, baby. whatever i did, i can fix it.”, isagi pleas frantically, scurrying closer to you by sitting on the edge of his bed, “please, just tell me.”

“you can’t, isagi. just stop it, okay?”, you sigh, getting up from his bed before grabbing your bag and packing up the few essentials you had in his room, “we just aren’t working, that’s it.”

“no- i just, i don’t understand what i did.”, he swallows, “i thought- i thought you loved me. i love you.”

you feel your bottom lip tremble. this felt like kicking a sweet puppy who kept running back to you.

you don’t say anything, in fear of losing composure and crying your heart out. so, you carry on packing your things, muting out isagi’s frantic pleas and breaking voice despite how hard it was, before rushing out of his room to get back to your own dorm, leaving him alone where everything felt too silent besides his thumping heartbeat.

and that’s when he felt the tears fall from his eyes, and down his cheeks. isagi wasn’t a crier, not at all. but, here he was, crying over you as you leave him with no closure, no nothing. without the answers you couldn’t give him, all he could do was wonder what the hell went so wrong. what the hell made you leave him so suddenly?

with all of his thoughts going rampant in his mind, isagi mutters, “fuck, man.”

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[aainiouu]

A tethered mind free from the lies

Hen Wilson loves Evan Buckley, it’s just a fact. He is like a little brother to her and she just… loves him. Fiercely. She wants to know things that go on in his life, he wants to hear stuff and likes when Buck asks for her advice. Sure she teases him and gives him grief, but the bottom line is that there is a little Hen wouldn’t do for Buck.

But this? This is something she would have never imagined she would have to and never wanted to do.

“Tommy! You have to stay awake!” Hen yells and Tommy’s glassy eyes turn to her. The helicopter is a flaming husk of debris a safe distance away and Hen is aching all over and the blood is seeping somewhere on her scalp but somehow Tommy had made sure their crash landing didn’t hurt her too badly.

And then had the absolute audacity to demand Hen to leave him there. No way. She wasn’t planning to do that.

The concerning thing is that even if Hen did get Tommy out the situation is not good. In fact it’s possibly catastrophic, but it’s dark and even though Hen patched Tommy up to the best of her ability, it might not be enough.

But if it’s not enough she has to be the one to tell Buck so Hen isn’t giving up anytime soon. Not that she would anyway. Everybody always forgets that Tommy was her and Chim’s friend first.

“This isn’t looking too good, Hen,” Tommy coughs out, “My dad always said I would get myself killed, it seems like he got his wish”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy, you’re not dying here.” Hen grits out and puts on more fabric around the stick (a branch really) poking out Tommy’s abdomen. Hen doesn’t know how Tommy manages it but the look and the scoff he gives her tell exactly how little he believes that.

“Hen, you have to tell Evan..” Tommy starts but Hen shuts him up with a look.

“I’m not telling the lover boy anything because you are going to tell him yourself.” Hen can feel the panic clawing up her throat but she needs to say on top of it. Tommy needs to survive this.

“No, please, Hen, I need to..” Tommy swallows and for Hen’s horror his eyes fill up tears. “I need him to know. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love Evan.”

Hen takes Tommy’s hand which is shaking, clammy and covered with blood. Tommy’s breath is shaking too and Hen feels herself tear up as well.

“Tell me about your Evan, Tommy,” she says and gently swipes Tommy’s hair from his forehead. Tommy smiles and looks at the sky. The fire paints his features strong, sharp but the look on his face makes him look boyish somehow. Tommy is a very handsome man, even crying and covered with blood.

“Evan, is, god, he showed me what could be. I never… I never thought I would get that, I still don’t not really, not the way we keep… we keep messing it up. But he showed me what could be.”

Hen smiles and keeps the pressure on Tommy’s wound, it’s still bleeding sluggishly, but the pulse she can feel on Tommy’s wrist is still going pleasantly strong.

”He’s the one I didn’t see coming, god, someone so light, so good, so gorgeous, so adorable, I didn’t know they made them like that.”

Hen can help but snort and Tommy somehow manages to pinch her hand slightly.

“He has so much life in him, so much love. He is simultaneously so giving with it, it scares me but also so careful on how it is received, it kills me.” Tommy turns his gaze back to her and the sheer adoration on Tommy’s face makes it hard to look away. “I don’t deserve it, I never have but god how I wish… I wish I could. I’ve never met anyone like him, I doubt there is anyone like him to meet. Not to me.”

“You do deserve it, Tommy.” Hen says quietly and the disbelieving laugh Tommy let’s out makes her heart hurt, “You do. Hell, don’t believe me, but believe Buck. The boy is crazy about you. If I let you die here, he’s never going to forgive me.”

“He will, Hen, he would never hold a grudge.”

“He won’t because I’m not letting you die.”

Tommy’s hmms and coughs wetly.

“I’m cold, Hen, and it’s not really hurting anymore and we both know it’s not a good sign.” Tommy grunts. “God, I would give everything to feel Evan’s arms around me right now, he’s like a furnace, a big, gorgeous, clingy furnace. I never felt cold sleeping with him.”

Hen takes off her jacket and lays it on the top of Tommy.

“I just want to see him again, I want to tell him…I—”

Tommy’s eyes slip closed and at the same moment a ray of light reaches them and someone runs towards them. Someone big, not careful, someone shouting their names on the top of their lungs, voice hoarse, panicked and wet.

It’s Buck.

Tommy’s pulse gets weaker and then it’s gone.

[amethystheartsx]

SCATTERED ACROSS THE STARS

Sylus Angst

After years of yearning, eons of loyalty what does a man do when all he gets is pieces, uneven and unfair.

Warnings: angst, slight mentions of chaos murder, drug addiction, and suicide (all mild)

AN: I often think all LIs and MC deserve better. A happiness of their own, not the kind tainted with curses and what not. If you don't like it don't read (°∀°)

Contains reference of another fic I wrote of zayne. I'll add link in case you wanna read.

Sylus was pissed.

No, that's not the right word, it portrays nothing but mere annoyance and anger. Sylus was beyond that.

Sylus was hurt.

No, that's not the right word as well, he wished he was just hurt. He wished it was only pain he felt every time he saw her with them.

Sylus was broken.

Tsk, incorrect yet again. How can one be broken when they were never whole to begin with.

For someone known to have everything worldly in the palm of his hand, Sylus lacked the most essential of his being. His soul, torn and used to bring life into another, one supposed to be his one true companion. His beloved. But Alas! 

Universe played a dirty trick.

For a dragon who owned the treasures of many fallen kings, the one who Never shared any of his possessions, even the one he did not care for, was forced to share the most precious one.

How ironic.

He thought his love was the purest, a beautiful yet tragic legend woven into the ancient ruins only for it to soar once again when they reunited.

He thought none like him existed, one who dared to love so fervently. A valiant display of ardent affection despite the curse that eventually killed him.

Sylus prided himself in his ability to love after the cosmos banned together to refrain it from happening, he prided himself to make a place for himself just so he could, for once, live out his fairy tale with her.

He deserved it right? After everything they went through. He still stands tall after that ever-longing suffering; her warm embrace should be his reward, right?!?.

Wrong.

Ah yes, wrong. Sylus felt wronged.

For the one whom he loved the most, was not his, at least not entirely.

Not the way he belonged to her. No. He longed for her, kept all of his love, his softness, his laughter reserved for her, made it so sacred so that when he laid it bare in front of her it would be nothing the eldest star in the ever-growing galaxy had ever witnessed before.

That's until he learned of them, their desires, their history.

A messenger who betrayed his god.

A god who led down his people.

A royal who left his own planet in ruins.

A fallen soldier who didn't let even death restrain him.

Each of them bared down their lives, people, treasures, and sanity. Over and over again. From gardens of jasmines to bonds of eternal. From past to future and across multiple timelines in between, tangled web, whispered myths and many fostered anecdotes.

Each of their feats rivaled the other, a grandeur display of Romance, that seeps through the galaxies and into her heart.

Wherever it beats, it finds her. They all find her, Love her, and then inevitably lose her.

Yes. The eternal cosmic affairs that have rattled the divine always end in the same way.

Heartbreak.

Tragic.

Unfulfilled.

Tsk. What a waste.

—--

Knowledge is power only some can bear, and Sylus would know. He had spied on them, all of them. Learned about them trying to find the flaws he could use to pry her away from their grasp. All for it to turn into failures.

Not just because they were clean slate, no like him they had their own fallouts.

But because of how happy she looked with them, so happy, just as she did with him. Not more, not less.

Just as much.

How unfair.

For he wanted her all for himself, blame his dragon roots but sylus don't share, how could he do it with the one who owns half his soul.

Is it so wrong he wants it all to himself? To get back the loyalty he had shown for eons?

He wasn't asking for much was he?

Everyday he will see her with one of them.

Under the starlight, along the oceans, in cozziness of duvets or the serenity of the night sky.

And she would dazzle for them just like she dazzles for him.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Nothing special.

__

His beloved was scattered across the stars, and he too only got the crumbs. The spared affections she had to offer, and sylus had enough.

He deserved to have something sacred. Something all for him. Just him.

And as the time went on he noticed…

So did she.

She deserved to have love that doesn't demand her being, her life, her blood, her heart.

She deserved to love as easy as breathing, not one suffocated with unseen linkages that burned with cosmic mischief.

She deserved to love and be loved with free will. Not because she was designed to, programmed to, and especially not with those picked by forces beyond her kin.

And so sylus decided to let her go, it wasnt easy, nor was it gentle but it did happen.

He pulled apart the string of fate, to let her free. It wasn't clean, certainly not smooth at edges but now she could breath. 

Soulmates can be platonic, romance isn't mandatory and besides, Kittens thrive better untethered, untamed.

—

After the “breakup”, if you can even call it that, a word far too trivial to define the undoing bond burned within the constellation, Sylus threw himself into work. Even more than before, going as far as taking Down the cheap underling, spreading chaos on the streets of the N-109 zone.

He was a ruthless killer before now he was a reckless one as well. His strategic movements and calculated attacks roughed up with insatiable need to wreak havoc.

He barely used his henchmen; why should he when he could do it better than them and also get the thrill of it?

Getting his own hands dirty in the hopes of removing the traces she left behind. He had learned the art of letting go, didnt mean he doesn’t get to process his grievance on his own accord, no matter how bloody it is.

Turns out he wasn't the first one to do so, it was the doctor. He, too, had to de-tangle himself from bushes full of thorns that had given him scars to last a lifetime, to plant a whole new garden with another flower just as fragrant, just as pretty. Even though it was small, it was still beautiful because it was entirely in bloom, not just the scraps he had to lose so much for.

Though Sylus was not looking for one, too tired by the charade to bother himself with it. He lived this long he would live out the rest of it as well.

Or so he thought.

---

During a hunt for a specific rat that had infiltrated the base, Sylus was not pleased when his carefully laid out trap was outsmarted by the traitor, fleeing the spot after tricking someone else into it.

“Looks like the rat trap ended up catching a little mouse” he spoke up approaching the bird cage that held just a sweet little thing, at least compared to him. 

He is displeased red eyes were now on,

You.

your pretty big eyes on him as well as crimson shades dust your cheek. “I- I am not supposed to be here…” you spoke, rightfully scared as the man in front of you approached the bird cage, his veiny hand reaching out to hold a bar, still studying, still weary.

“Obviously” he says in a bored tone “you do not fit the description. It was supposed to be a large burly man and not a, well…a fragile little thing too easy to break” he says.

You couldn't help but giggle and that caught him off guard. “Sorry, it's just- your voice is just as deep as I imagined,” you say, making the man in front of you give you a questioning glare. “Excuse me?” he asked. Of course, she wasn't the first to say something like that to him. Many had tried to tempt the man who runs the city to no real outcome.

“You are sylus right? I- am a huge fan!” You say looking up from your place nearing the bars of the cage.

Many had claimed to be his nemesis, his rivals, even admirers, but a fan? That was a first. “A fan? A fan of what?” he asked, his low voice not portraying the hint of curiosity he felt.

“You know, like your achievements and stuff” you reply simply, matter-of-factly.

There was a beat of silence.

“You mean my criminal record?”

“A mighty impressive one”.

His devilishly handsome face contorts into a slightly puzzled expression as he refuses to look away at the shorter person in front of him who continued to look at him….like that.

Sylus was aware how blessed he was aesthetically but he couldn't help but be drawn to her eyes and how she looked at him. They brimmed with admiration, respect and slight fear that didn't aim towards him. Now it isn't that no one ever looked at him like that before, no. What made it different was how pure it was, how easy it came to her when it really shouldn't. Her desires were sated and she didn't require anything of him. Not his favor, not his hate. She was so contant in the moment just being present here, with him.

Sylus had to step back and look away. An unfamiliar weight unfolded in his chest

“Enough with this charade whatever this is” he says “how did you end up here? Because with what you have said so far I believe you are some kind of stalker? Is that what it is?” He speaks with accusations directed towards you.

“Oh no! No” you to quickly step back, panic drips your demeanor “There is a misunderstanding, I have been played to be accurate”.

“Oh? Why tell me more about it little mouse” he says crossing his arm, his tone was sarcastic yet sincere. “I am all ears”.

With a deep breath you begin “that big and burly man you mentioned vaguely, were you talking about daryl? Also known as the bishop?” When he nods cautiously you continue “right! So what happened was, I owed Daryl a favor and he cashed it in and told me to make this delivery for him and well I had no clue that delivery will bring me here” you breath out seemingly calm but that slight shakiness in your voice didn't miss him. “I assume he somehow knew it was a trap then set me up as an escape goat” 

Once you were finished sylus ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. It doesn't happen often that one of his strategically laid out traps doesn't work or catch someone innocent, but even in this moment after his failed attempt his mind was more interested in you “And why would a small thing like you owe a man like bishop a favor” his eyes narrows down at you with suspicion laced with intrigue. Just who are you? First, you claim to be a fan and then turn out to have some sort of connection with a rat that Infiltrated his base.

The question made you chuckle “ah so funny story” you begin, now having sylus’s full attention because how would it be funny to know a man like The Bishop.

“So my dad killed his dad, and then like kind of adopted him because of guilt since his mom was a druggie, she ended her life subscription after like 4 to 5 years or so anyway” You wave it off like it was no big deal and the red-eyed man could only just listen to you stunned. “So yeah Daryl kind of came and went never really stayed, got in the wrong g crowd and found out the truth so he obviously tried to kill us all but thankfully couldn't” you rambled, sylus felt they were losing the plot “If he tried to kill you all why would you owe him….anything?” He tried hiding how absurd he found it, but she could see it as “that's the funny part of having a dysfunctional family.” she leaned on the bars of the cage. “Can't live with them, can't live without them. After nearly burning down our house and running away for good, or so I thought, he returned again remorseful because, well, my dad did take him in, and we were nice enough to him.” She shrugs. Sylus shifted on his feet, impatient “Still doesn't explain why-”

“I am getting there jeez” you giggle, “though we did not really forgive him and cut off our ties I had to reach out to him because” you take another deep breath and sylus holds his.

“I needed the money, we were in ruins, and all kinds of bills were stacking up my books, not making enough. It- it was rough,” You chuckle, but there is no humor in it; the sparkles in your eyes dim down, replaced by the pain of the past that still seems to haunt you. “It was a good chunk I borrowed and was paying him back bit by bit after I started doing well till out of the blue he called in and asked a favor in exchange for forgiving the rest of the loan and- well, rest is history” she stands straighter arms crossed “that answered all your questions?”

Sylus stares you up and down. He knows, of course, that you are not lying or deceiving him, that your heart is pure even after all you've been through, and it is only what you tell him; he wonders what else you hide behind that flowery smile.

“even if you are saying the truth you have seen too much now, and given your…complicated relationship with the bishop I suppose letting you go so freely won't be an option,” he says, his voice dropping low to that cold tone that can make anyone succumb to their knees, the one you had in your eyes right now. That's the look Sylus was used to, not that mellow one you have been giving him.

“No! No wait, don't kill me” you grabbed onto the bar's desperate pleas falling from your lips making him smirk “I-I can be useful I can help you find him! everything I know I'll tell you. Please” the last word falling much softly.

“mhm is that so then maybe you can be spared” sylus says knowing damn well he was never planning on killing her in the first place.

“Well then” he smirks “I am expecting your full corporation little miss”.

AN: This was supposed to be long lol, but I figured I'd make it a whole part 2 later. It is almost written but I have so many ideas I need to arrange it all first

Anywho, let me know if I should write it or not.

Also here is the link.

[rockwoodchevy]

Somethin' in Common

Jackson!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: Joel comes across someone at the bar who has something in common with him. Something he wouldn't wish on anyone.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: child loss, some swear words

a/n: OMG!!! I cannot believe the feedback I got on 'Cold'! I'm SO glad you guys loved it! Here is another little writing I thought of today. Not sure how I am feeling about this one but let me know if y'all like it!

___________________________________________

Joel seldom treats himself to a night out at the Tipsy Bison but after days like today, where it seemed that everyone and everything was out to get him, he thinks he might just deserve it.

As he sits towards the end of the bar area, he watches as the world continues on without him. Couples, families, and loners like himself go about their lives, seemingly forgetting that all of them are still living in end times. Joel scoffs to himself, returning to the drink he had been nursing. It was his third one, about to be his fourth. The bartender, whose name he didn’t even bother to listen to, sauntered over to him with the bottle of whiskey. He gave Joel a look, almost of pity or disgust he wasn’t sure. 

“Another?” He asked, already starting to pour the poison into his glass.

“Keep ‘em coming until I say so.” Joel grunts out to the man, pulling the glass back to him before the bartender even finishes pouring it. A small amount of the liquor spilled onto the bar in front of Joel but he didn’t flinch as he raised the glass back to his lips. The bartender rolled his eyes as he wiped the counter down, walking away from him back to the other patrons sitting towards the end of the bar. 

Joel continues to sip on his drink, watching as people come in and out of the bar. He doesn’t think twice about the woman who comes in, hood up over her head like she is trying to hide from someone. She sits down on a stool 3 seats down to his right and removes the hood from her head. She’s a pretty girl, Joel thinks to himself. His head snaps to his left when he hears the bartender say a name, walking over to the woman with a big smile on his face. She smiles shyly at him. Joel repeats the name in his head. Pretty name, fits her perfectly. 

“Hi, Mathieu.” Her voice resonates through the bar, though it might just be through Joel’s head from all the whiskey he's had. So Mathieu was his name. 

“Want your usual?” He asked her, already beginning to make a drink. She nods.

He makes something with a couple of liquors that he isn’t sure of before plopping it in front of her. She practically slams it in one go, Mathieu smiling as he starts to make her another.

“I have a surprise for you.” He says, turning to walk towards a back area. She follows his movements, eyes wandering to her left. She makes eye contact with Joel for a moment, smiling at him. He gives a small grin back before they both look away from each other back to their respective drinks. 

A few moments pass before Mathieu comes back from wherever he was with a smile white box in his hands. He placed it in front of the girl, stepping back from the bar. She gave him a confused look, opening the box in front of her. Her face froze and Joel couldn’t quite place the emotion on it. Reaching in the box, she took out what seemed to be… 

A small cupcake?

Joel was a little shocked. He hadn’t seen a cupcake in quite a while. It wasn’t huge or anything too flashy, just a regular sized vanilla cupcake with a bit of frosting on top. She placed it in front of herself, leaving her forearms resting on either side of it. She was rubbing her thumb and pointer finger together on both hands before lifting one of them to her face. Joel followed her movements, watching as she wiped at her eyes. Mathieu placed a comforting hand on the arm that remained on the bar and ran his thumb over her skin. 

“Thank you.” She let out, voice a little louder than whisper. 

“Don’t thank me yet.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pack of matches. He struck one, the flame burning huge and bright for a moment before settling into a small light. He stuck the match in the cupcake, motioning for her to blow it out. She let out a watery laugh but blew out the flame no less. Mathieu clapped and spun in a little circle, making her laugh a little harder. 

Joel scoffed a little at the sight. There really wasn’t anything special to him about birthdays, especially after everything that happened on his all those years ago. He shook his head, taking another swig from his glass. Until another one of their conversations caught his attention.

“If you don’t mind me asking… how old would he have been today?” Mathieu asked her, leaning on the bar towards her. 

“Ten.” She said, voice low. “He would have been ten.” 

“Wow. Double digits, huh?” Mathieu tried to lighten the conversation.

“Yep.” She looked at the cupcake, picking it up and turning it in her hands. “He hated vanilla.”

Mathieu stood up in his spot, looking at her wide-eyed. She looked at him, a small smirk on her face. Lifting the cupcake to her mouth, she took a big bite out of it. “But I don’t.”

He laughed at her, shaking his head. “I have to keep doing my job, but I’ll be back.” He walked off to the other group of people at the bar and engaged in conversation with them. 

Joel was intrigued at the conversation that just occurred in front of him. Who were they talking about? He looked back at his glass, moving it around and watching the ice and liquor move around before he spoke. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but-”

“No worries. You aren’t the first person to ask about it.” She looked up at him. She reached a hand out to him, offering him her name. He obliged in her offering, meeting her hand in the middle of them and giving it a shake while telling her his name. When she let go of his hand, she turned in her seat to face him.

“Today is my son’s birthday. He would have been ten years old today.” She told him, not breaking eye contact. “He passed away 6 years ago. Infected got him. I didn’t have the heart to… to kill him. You know, afterwards.I couldn’t have imagined my son dying, let alone at my hand.” She looked down at her hands, ringing one around her wrist. 

Joel looked at her with shock on his face. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t that. He wasn’t quite sure what to say back to her but he knew what not to say. Because he was tired of hearing it too. He turned his body towards her and took a deep breath before he began.

“I lost my daughter. At the beginning of everything. So I understand the pain you’re going through.” He grunted out to her.

She looked up at him, the shocked look mirroring his from earlier. She hadn’t met another parent who lost their child and it felt somewhat comforting to know that she had someone who understood her. She smiled at him. And he smiled back. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, randomly sipping their drinks when Mathieu came back over to them.

“How are you guys doing?” He asked.

“I think I am gonna head out, Mathieu.” She said to him. He nodded at her and let her know that she was good to go. She thanked him before turning to Joel and giving him a nod. He hesitated for a moment and watched as she walked towards the exit. Fuck it, he decided. He called her name, standing from his seat. Turning to look back at him, she gave him another smile.

“Can I walk you home?” Joel asked her. 

She beamed at him, making his heart hammer in his chest. “I would like that.”

He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair he was on and rushed over to her as he was throwing it on. They walked out of the bar together, walking side by side in a peaceful silence, only the sound of the town and the few people around could be heard. They reached her home about 10 minutes later, just a couple of minutes from Joel’s place. He walked her to her door and watched her stop before she opened her door. She spun and looked at him.

“Do uh… Do you wanna come in? I’m not sure if you like it or not but I got some coffee grounds in a trade recently and have been dying to try it.”

He smiled at her, nodding as he stepped forward towards the house. She welcomed him in, pointing towards the living area as she stepped into the kitchen to make the coffee. He explored around the living room, looking at the small trinkets lined along the fireplace she had. There was a polaroid of her and a small child who he assumed was her son. The boy looked quite a bit like her, same nose and small smile. He grinned at it as memories of Sarah at that age ran through his mind. He heard someone clear their throat and he turned to see her standing in the doorway with two mugs. 

“That’s my boy. He was little there.” 

“I assumed it was. Handsome fella, he was.” Joel said, walking to the couch she was now sat on. He sat next to her, graciously accepting the mug from her. They both sipped on it and hummed at the delightful taste. She giggled at the sound of their hums harmonizing together and he laughed in return. They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke. 

“Thanks for the coffee. It’s difficult to get some nowadays.”

“It is. I don’t wanna tell you what it took to get it. I’m glad I did though. It’s actually really delicious.” She examined the mug before placing it on the table in front of them. She leaned back on her couch and looked at him. “So… tell me about yourself, Joel.”

He looked a little taken aback. “Ain’t nothing special about me. Nothin’ anybody would really wanna know.”

“Try me.”

So, they spoke for a bit. About their hometowns, their respective kids, their travels, how they both ended up in Jackson. But also about themselves. Their likes, dislikes, what they wished they could have done if the world hasn’t ended. Before they knew it, the sun was starting to rise. They had spent all night enjoying each other’s presence and neither of them were too upset about it. 

“I should probably get home. Ellie is probably wonderin’ where the hell I am.” Joel said, standing from his comfortable position on the couch. She stood behind him and walked him to the door.

“It was really nice talking to you, Joel. It’s nice being able to have someone who understands, you know?”

He nodded at her. “It is. I appreciate the coffee and company.”

“I appreciated your company too.” She said, beaming at him. 

They both stood by the door when Joel suddenly turned to her. 

“Can I see you again?” He asked shyly. She immediately nodded. 

“Whenever you want. You do know where I live, so.”

“Okay.” Was all Joel could say. 

As he was turning to leave, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He was taken aback for a second but couldn’t help it when his grin grew bigger. 

“Can I see you tonight?” He asked, a hand coming up to rest on her cheek.

“Name the time and place and I’ll be there.” 

[nebulablakemurphy]

Haymitch Abernathy & The Dead Donner Girl (Part 2)

Summary: Haymitch is forced to mentor the niece of his former ally, aka the prequel to all things Moves & Countermoves. (Warning: Sunrise on the Reaping spoilers.)

Part 1

Haymitch knows it is bad when he’s summoned by letter to the Capitol, the week before Y/N’s victory tour. He knows it is worse when Snow wants to recap her interview following the games.

“Well I didn’t win because I was the smartest, or the strongest, or even because I deserved it the most.”

“Then how did you do it, Y/N?” Caesar leans in, “we’re all dying to know.”

“I won because someone loved me.”

“Aww.” The audience coos.

“Tyson was more than my ally, he was my friend. He protected me. He deserves to be here today, not me.”

“I don’t know how true that is,” Caesar says.

“I think if we all loved each other; everyone in the districts and everyone in the Capitol, maybe we wouldn’t need the games to remind us of the rebellion. If we all love each other, why would anyone rebel?”

“How sweet,” Caesar holds a hand to his heart. “What a sweet girl.”

The audience roars with applause.

“I have no idea what the future holds, for any of us. But I would very much like to be your friend.” Caesar tells her.

Y/N smiles and nods, extending her hand to him. “Of course.”

“She wants to end the games.” Snow tuts, “didn’t you warn her what a careless mouth could do?”

“I haven’t spoken to her,” Haymitch admits. “I’ll get her under control before the tour.”

The man hums. “I’m not sure you can.”

“All I’m asking for is a chance.”

At this the older man smirks. “If I grant you the opportunity to correct her behavior, what are you willing to give me in return?”

“Anything.” Haymitch decides.

“Does loyalty to your former ally run so deep that you would do anything to save a girl you can’t even bear the sight of, simply because she is her kin?” President Snow cocks his head to the side.

“I guess it does.” It’s all for you, sis.

Coriolanus steeples his hands on the desk before him. “A car will be sent for you this evening, I have something special in mind for your retribution. Be sure to wear something nice.”

“Nice?” You want me to dress up to be tortured?

“Suit and tie,” Snow nods.

“Fine, alright.” Haymitch agrees.

“And moving forward, do keep her contained. I know you’d hate for her to join you.”

Haymitch purses his lips, where the hell are you sending me?

————————————————————————

“Man, I wish you had to do this instead of me.” Y/N laments, arranging flowers against Tyson’s headstone.

“Little girl, there’s a train rollin’ in for you.” Tyson’s mother, Cherry reminds her.

“I’m aware.” Y/N sighs, turning to face the woman.

“You be good now, ya hear? Remember who you are.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cherry.”

“That’s Ma to you.” The woman taps her chin, affectionately. Tears welling up in her eyes.

“Yes, Ma.” Y/N forces a smile. She can’t cry now or she’ll never stop.

“Wish we coulda met you different, but I’m glad to know you all the same.”

Y/N allows herself to be pulled in for a chaste hug. “Me too.”

“Make us proud.” Make our boy proud.

“I will.” Y/N takes off, out the side gate. Purposely skirting Tyson’s father, Tucker, and his siblings, in an attempt to keep her composure. Racing home to her house in Victor’s Village.

Haymitch is back. The lights in his house are on next door.

She wonders where he ran off to, but Haymitch never tells her anything. Still she pushes through the open door of his house. “Knock, knock.”

No answer. She finds her mentor passed out on the dining room table. “Haymitch, it’s tour day.” Again nothing, he doesn’t even stir. Hesitantly, she reaches for his shoulder, giving it a jostle.

“AHHHHHHH!” The man springs to his feet, knife at the ready.

“Haymitch,” Y/N holds up her hands, “it’s just me.”

“Why are you here?” He blinks rapidly, attempting to settle his nerves. He’s not in the arena, not in that house in the Capitol where he had to-

“It’s tour day.” She reminds him, before turning on her heel to leave.

“Wait.” Haymitch calls after her, “wait.”

“Yeah?”

“You need to be careful.”

“Careful how?” Y/N asks, “I’m not kissing Snow’s ass in front of the people whose kids he just killed.”

“That’s exactly what you’re gonna do.”

“You want me to sell out?”

Haymitch slams his fist against the table. “People are going to die. If you say the wrong thing, people are going to die.”

“Haymitch, they believe in what I’m saying about the games. They-”

“Aren’t going to stand between you and Snow if it comes to that. Nobody is gonna do that but me!” That’s never been more clear.

“I never asked you to!” Y/N shouts back, “I don’t want to be responsible for what happens to you.”

“And you think it was my dream to become responsible for you? Whether you live or die? You think I want that on me?”

“Then let the peacekeepers take me off your hands. A public execution ought to be enough to stop whatever I’ve started.”

“I made a promise!” Haymitch snaps. “I promised Maysilee that I would take care of her family. Bang up job I’m doing, already lost Merrilee.”

A promise like that is something Y/N understands very well. “That wasn’t your fault, what happened to her.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was.” Haymitch digs the soles of his hands into his tired eyes.

The silence hangs heavy between them.

“Look, I won’t say anything reckless.” Y/N whispers, “just stop blaming yourself. You tried your best to keep your promise, Maysilee would understand.”

————————————————————————

Vanity arrives, zipping her victor into a lime green dress with feathers around the neckline and wrists. When she is deemed camera ready, Y/N is escorted to the stage in front of the justice building. Y/N bounces into view, clutching what appears to be cards in her hand.

President Snow shifts in his seat, waiting for a proper performance.

The victor finds the cameras, waving them closer with a smile.

What’s your play? Coriolanus leans toward the projection.

The shot tightens to the words scrawled on her index card. ‘I’m sorry! I lost my voice.’

Y/N taps her throat for emphasis.

You

little

shit.

———————————————————————-

President Snow sends a doctor to assess Y/N in district eleven.

“Her throat is raw and her vocal cords are inflamed, other than that she appears healthy. It’ll be at least a week before she can speak again.”

What have you done?

The tour must go on. Without a voice booming from the microphone, the fallen tributes from each district are able to speak for themselves. With no sweet words to sugarcoat and glorify their crimes, the Capitol is forced to own what they’ve done. After all, how can she say the wrong thing if she says nothing at all?

Y/N grins and waves, blowing kisses to the crowd and paying special attention to the cameras.

Haymitch says nothing about her antics, all he can do is sell the lie. But in this lie, there is some truth. Y/N cannot speak. Not in any meaningful way, not in the only way she would.

Punishment for this act will surely come, but for now she is free.

Miraculously, Y/N’s voice returns just in time for her tour to end, in the heart of the Capitol. The audience for Caesar Flickerman’s show is packed full, practically overflowing into the aisles.

“It is such a pity that you didn’t get to speak in any of the districts. I, for one, was eager to hear your speeches.”

Y/N makes a show of unwrapping her cough drop and popping it into her mouth. “Well Caesar, laryngitis is no joke. If I could have spoken, you know I would have.”

“Of course, of course.” Caesar smiles, “we are so happy that your voice has returned in time to see us all here tonight.”

“No place I’d rather be,” Y/N tells him.

————————————————————————

Two years pass and Haymitch does not speak to her, the girl whose noose hangs around his neck, in lieu of her own. Mercifully she leaves him alone.

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

The pounding on his door alerts Haymitch to the fact that the dead Donner girl is back with a vengeance. Only she would dare to visit him on his birthday. His eyes remain cast downward, looking anywhere but at her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m hoping you can.”

She sounds different. Older.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he looks at her, for the very first time. Because she has outgrown her nickname, too old and too alive to be the ‘dead Donner girl.’

This is the girl the Capitol can’t wait to get their hands on? This is the girl men fall to their knees for? Who he’s spent the past three years in servitude to? This is Y/N? “I imagined you’d be different.”

Y/N crosses both arms over her chest, “that’s what eyes are for.”

Pain in my ass. “What do you want?”

“You, actually.” Y/N informs him, “come mentor with me.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Haymitch can’t help but laugh.

“Because I need you.”

“Laying it on thick there.”

“And,” Y/N raises her brows, “because you’re one of the few people I can trust.”

Haymitch shifts between feet, uncomfortably.

“Allies?” The girl offers, holding out her hand.

Haymitch sighs, looking up towards the sky. For you, sis. “Don’t make me regret this.”

[kirain]

OKAY! You've broken me! I did my best as a little thank you for all the support! ❤

I hope you're happy with it, because I am never doing it again! 😅💀

As per anon's request to @emmg's post here.

Emmrich sighs, trembling as she kisses him. Never, not in a million lifetimes, across a thousand different worlds, could he believe that she wants him. Yet here she is—Rook. Soft, warm, and so unbearably close. Her lips press against his, teasing yet tender, and he melts into her, drawn into the impossible sweetness of her touch. Her fingers trace down his chest, her body pressing against his, and he gasps as her hands wander lower.

Reaching.

He wakes with a start. A sharp inhale, a shuddering exhale. His cheeks burn, his brow is drenched in sweat, his heart beats dangerously fast. He shakes his head, but the wish clings to him, the sensation of her fingers still ghosting over his skin. It wasn't real, but every nerve tingles with excitement, confusing dreams with reality.

"Maker's breath..." He runs a hand over his face, groaning softly. This is wrong. Rook deserves better than to be trapped in his thoughts, tangled in his yearning, in the aching pull of his desire. She is kind, pure, unlike anyone he has ever known. She deserves admiration, respect—not to be the subject of his shameful fantasies.

And yet...

He shifts, wincing as he feels the evidence of his arousal, hard and insistent beneath the sheets. He clenches his jaw, willing the heat in his blood to wane, but his mind betrays him. He sees her again—above him, straddling him, whispering in his ear that he'll never be alone again.

Whispering, "I love you."

His breath hitches. His eyes squeeze shut, his hand—

No! He can't. He shouldn't.

He tries to stop, to deny himself. But...

His fingers curl, hesitating. He isn't some inexperienced boy; he's a grown man, a scholar, a gentleman. He knows better than to indulge in these thoughts. But that doesn't stop the strokes, the need coiling deep in his belly.

"Forgive me..."

His breath quickens, gasps rolling into moans as the tension swells, the dream playing on repeat behind his closed, squinted eyes. Rook's lips, her voice, her body wrapped around him—tightly.

So very tightly.

He whimpers, his hand moving faster, his intrusive dream punctuated by equally intrusive memories. The way she touched his arm mere hours ago, the way she smiled—not to humour him, but because of him. The way she listened so intently as he spoke, not fearful of him or his craft, but genuinely interested.

To her, innocent.

To him? Everything.

"Will you marry me?" his much braver self asks in his dream.

She blushes. "Of course I will."

He bites down, stifling a scream as he arches back, his body quaking with the sudden, uncontrollable release. The heat, the want, all of it unravels in an instant, leaving him breathless, exhausted, and terribly, terribly satisfied.

Then, just as quickly—regret. He sobs into his pillow, his pleasure chastened by an overwhelming guilt.

"What... have I done?" he wheezes, his chest heaving.

He's supposed to be better than this. Beyond this.

But apparently, he's nothing more than a fool—an old pervert with a heart too full of longing and a mind too weak to fight it.

[martialartslover7]

...Unironically, if you are accepting of his death, considering the context surrounding it beyond the battlefield and the confines of the story, do you even deserve to call yourself a fan of Neji? Or even Hinata, let alone NaruHina, dare I say? The fact that it's been confirmed, that he only got killed off to continue pushing a ship, that BARELY had any screentime or proper development, period (coming from a NaruHina guy myself), is this really the level of mediocrity and BS that we are supposed to eat up? Neji was barely even present in the story, and yet we are supposed to feel so uber sad over his passing, that not only got memed to death for how ridiculous it looked, but also for the dumbass writing decision as a whole?

But what makes his death even more humiliating and coming off like pure ill intent on the writer's behalf: Neji's passing affected literally NOTHING. His clan treated him and the Side Branch like expendable garbage, ALL THE WAY TO THE END. The only substantial value he was ever able to provide, SUPPOSEDLY, is giving his life to the Main Branch. That was literally all what the story showed. Never mind the fact that, Naruto actually promised to change the Hyuga clan, wanting to actually help Neji and Hinata, yeah, whatever happened to that, right? No, no, no, Neji is the one needing to die, so that he and Hinata can "grow closer", as if they were ever super close to begin with, ignoring Shippuden, which did pretty much nothing with them, except for a confession scene, that went NOWHERE.

And even if, let's just pretend that maybe, there really wasn't that much to do with him to begin with, let's accept that in theory: Does it really justify killing off a character, all for the sake of a freaking SHIP? Just the mere IDEA of it.

Any sane human-being would probably agree: This should go without saying. That is, without exception, a HORRIBLE reason to kill off a character, let alone, again, for a ship, that was a huge Nothing Burger, for the majority of the series, and only got made canon, because it was super popular. Not because there was any real substance or character to it all, because let's be real here, and I had to learn that the hard way:

NARUTO. BARELY. ACKNOWLEDGED. HINATA'S EXISTENCE. LET ALONE, ROMANTICALLY.

Making Neji's sacrifice come off as a moronic leap of faith, believing "Oh, they are super-uber in love, so I will gladly give my life to protect Lady Hinata, and entrust her life to Naruto"...

...despite, once Minato was talking to Naruto, asking if Sakura was his girlfriend, HE AGREED WITH HIM. HE. AGREED. No hesitation, no reminder, consideration or memory of Hinata's feelings, he barely even knows she is existing in his hubris, and Shippuden did little to nothing to counteract his mindset, even though she confessed her feelings to him, a few arcs ago (sure, "I love you" can be understood in Japanese as a different way of saying, that you love someone on a friendship-based level, but considering the overall vibe of the confession, it didn't come off like "friendship" to me, and anyone with the ability to read the room). He always had eyes for Sakura (I also don't like it, man, I am not here to make enemies, I am just going off of what canonically went down, why else am I so pissed off to begin with? I also wanted him and Hinata to grow together as one, but it is what it is). And that's a sad fact that we have to swallow. We can come up with all kinds of headcanons and "educated wishes", but it doesn't change the reality of the situation that: NARUTO. FORGETS. HINATA. EVEN EXISTS.

And that is the core reason, why Neji's death, is just that:

POINTLESS.

Not only does his entire character arc get disrespected (it just went nowhere, man, he just dies, and it does NOTHING), causing Hinata's lack of action to come off as a selfish woman (let's stop lying to ourselves, Hinata may not KNOWINGLY be selfish, considering her backstory, but she is selfish regardless, so let's stop pretending, she is a pure, innocent angel, that was always her gravest weakspot), who only seeks out the affection of a guy, which he never returned ONCE, and his uncle gets to continue living, putting on the act of a loving grandpa, all the while, we don't get an OUNCE of confirmation if the Caged Bird Seal, or the Branch family bullshit has been abolished. We only see the Main Branch being mostly involved in Naruto's and Hinata's family affairs, which only implies to me, they probably changed SQUAT. Yeah. No. This is just the pits.

Neji died. FOR ALL THIS NONSENSE. Kishimoto should honestly be ashamed of himself. Glory for one character, at the expense of another. Let alone someone, who was written to be treated like dog water for the majority of his existence by his own family, but fuck all of us, he doesn't deserve a peaceful ending. Because he is from the Side Branch.

PEACE.

More than ten years later and I still will never forget

[solidaritygaming-fanblog]

First off- Jimmy <3

Second, if you wanna answer— My boy Mumbo?

ehehehe I'll do them both <3

JIMMY:

How I feel: I have a whole blog for this guy. That's my man (by man I mean my comfort british blonde white twenty something year old man) (and I'm a lesbian). He's so silly. Throw him against the wall, pet his hair, give him a gun and everyone who's ever hurt him. He's just Jim

Romantic ships: *deep breath* in no particular order (and NOT real people)... Ren, Skizz, Mumbo, Joel, Scar, Martyn, Impulse, Oli, Sausage, Gem, Bigb, Fwhip, even ETHO, a touch of Joey.... there's so many wonderful rarepairs out there. He has chemistry with so many people. It's great

Platonic OTP: either seablings (because yeah), or Jimmy and Doc. Have you seen the clip of Jimmy calling for "dad" and Doc being like "dude you're triggering my parental instincts"? Because I've seen that clip and I adore it with every fiber of my being. It's lovely.

Unpopular opinion: either him cutting off his wings at every chance he gets except they always grow back, OR him worshiping the Watchers. Probably the Watcher worship.

One thing I wish was canon: HIM GETTING A SATISFYING KILL OR SOMETHING AS THE EVIL SHERIFF. PLEASE HE DESERVED TO LASH OUT AND HURT THOSE WHO HURT HIM.

MUMBO:

How I feel: he's so silly. He's so so silly. I'm holding him in two fingers from the neck of his suit like I'm holding a kitten. He is baby girl and he is the icon and he is the moment. Slay my goth king

Romantic ships: Jimmy? Sometimes? Sometimes Scar, sometimes Grian, sometimes both. Also him and Skizz are banger. Oh and him and Martyn... love them

Nonromantic otp: I had to think about this one. Um this is going to sound crazy but him and Bdubs. They bounce off each other so strangely... it's fascinating. OH AND HIM + JIMMY + LIZZIE

Unpopular opinion: He did almost all the circuitry for Grumbot with mycelium or mushrooms. And I personally headcanon Jrumbot's circuitry to have been done with sculk.

One thing I wish was canon: After his first death in Wild life, his mustache turned into a little pair of canary wings. It was only like that for a couple days but he was incredibly stressed by it.

Ummm yeah! Send me a character if you want and I'll fill this out for them!!!!

[kenziiie]

Never Enough

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Black!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, cheating, heartbreak, betrayal, language.

—————

Pope wasn’t trying to find out.

He didn’t want to know.

But now that he did, there was no way to unsee it.

It was late—too late for JJ to still be out without at least texting you. You’d mentioned earlier how worried you were, how something felt off. Pope had told you not to stress, that JJ was probably just messing around with the guys. That was what he did. He disappeared and came back like the tide, restless, unpredictable.

But now, standing outside The Chateau, Pope’s stomach twisted with dread. Because he had found him.

And he wasn’t alone.

The dim glow from inside the house was just enough to illuminate the figures tangled together on the couch. Pope didn’t need to step closer to know who they were. JJ’s blond hair was unmistakable, and the girl beneath him, tangled in his arms, her hands buried in his hair—was Kiara.

Pope’s chest tightened as JJ’s lips moved over hers, his hands gripping her waist in a way that made Pope’s stomach turn. He wanted to turn around, walk away, pretend he never saw it. But his feet wouldn’t move.

“Are you serious right now?”

His voice cut through the quiet, and both JJ and Kiara jolted apart. Kiara scrambled up, brushing her hair back with wide eyes. JJ, on the other hand, groaned, rubbing his hands down his face like he was the one who had been blindsided.

“Shit,” JJ muttered, pushing himself up. “Pope—”

“What the fuck, man?” Pope hissed, stepping forward. His blood boiled, anger mixing with the betrayal sitting heavy in his chest. “What are you doing?”

JJ let out a harsh breath, shaking his head like this was some misunderstanding. “It’s not—”

“Don’t,” Pope snapped, jaw clenching. “Don’t even try to lie right now. I saw it.” He turned his glare to Kiara, his disappointment cutting sharper than any words. “You too? Are you kidding me?”

Kiara looked away, guilt flashing across her face. “It just… happened.”

“Bullshit,” Pope bit out. “Things like this don’t just happen.”

JJ stepped forward, frustration clear on his face. “Look, man, I—”

“You what?” Pope cut him off, shaking his head in disbelief. “You love her? You care about her? Because last I checked, you already have a girlfriend—one who actually gives a damn about you.”

JJ flinched at that, and for the first time, Pope saw it—the fear creeping into his expression, the guilt.

“You have to tell her,” Pope said, his voice quieter now, but no less firm. “She deserves to hear it from you.”

JJ dragged a hand down his face. “Pope—”

“I mean it, JJ,” Pope said, voice sharp. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

He didn’t give him a chance to argue. He turned on his heel, walking away before he said something he couldn’t take back.

And now, he had to do the hardest thing of all—tell you.

⸻

You knew something was wrong the second you saw Pope’s face.

The knock on your door was unexpected, but when you opened it and saw him standing there, his expression tight with something unreadable, your stomach twisted.

“Pope?” you asked, your voice uncertain. “What’s wrong?”

Pope hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He was nervous.

Your heart pounded. “Just say it.”

He swallowed hard, looking away for a moment before finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s JJ,” he said quietly. “He… I caught him with Kiara.”

You blinked, confused. “Caught him?”

Pope’s jaw tightened. “They were… together.”

The words hit you like a truck, slamming into your chest with a force that knocked the air from your lungs.

“No,” you said automatically, shaking your head. “That’s not—he wouldn’t—”

“I saw it,” Pope interrupted gently. “I wish I didn’t, but I did.”

Your throat closed, and you sucked in a sharp breath, your hands shaking.

No.

Not JJ. Not the boy you had loved for so long, the boy you had stood by through everything. He could be reckless, careless, even selfish sometimes, but this?

Pope’s voice softened. “I’m so sorry.”

The apology shattered something in you. It made it real.

Tears burned in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

“Where is he?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pope hesitated. “Y/N, maybe you should—”

“Where is he?” you demanded, your voice sharp.

A pause. Then, finally, Pope sighed. “He’s at his place.”

You nodded, already reaching for your keys.

“Y/N—”

“I have to do this,” you said, voice cracking.

Pope didn’t try to stop you. He just gave you a look full of sorrow, stepping back as you pushed past him.

You were going to end this.

For good.

⸻

JJ’s place was quiet when you arrived.

Too quiet.

You hesitated at the door, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your heart hammering against your ribs. You weren’t sure what you would do when you saw him. Yell? Cry? Fall apart?

But you couldn’t stop now.

So, you stepped inside.

JJ was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard you, and for a moment, all you could see was regret in his eyes.

But regret wasn’t enough.

“Y/N,” he started, standing up.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice dangerously calm. “Don’t you dare say my name like that.”

He exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair. “I—”

“You cheated on me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it made JJ flinch. “With Kiara.”

JJ opened his mouth, but you weren’t done.

“Do you have any idea how fucking stupid I feel right now?” Your voice wavered, but you refused to break—not in front of him. “How many times did I defend you? How many times did I choose you, even when everyone told me I shouldn’t?”

JJ stepped forward, but you held up a hand. “Stay where you are.”

He stopped.

“I loved you,” you said, voice cracking. “I loved you, JJ.”

His face crumpled, but you didn’t let it sway you.

“And you still chose her.”

JJ shook his head. “It wasn’t like that—”

“Then tell me how it was,” you snapped. “Make it make sense.”

He hesitated, and that was all the answer you needed.

You let out a bitter laugh, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. “That’s what I thought.”

JJ looked down, his hands clenching at his sides. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

You scoffed. “That’s the thing, JJ. You never want to hurt me, but you do. Over and over again.”

Silence.

You inhaled shakily, steeling yourself.

“I hope she was worth it.”

JJ’s head shot up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Y/N—”

But you were already turning away.

“Don’t come looking for me,” you said, voice hollow. “Not this time.”

[cannibalcreeps]

This precious sad ghoul 💖

[vaguely-concerned]

My two cents on how much of Mind!Varric is Rook’s mind trying to fill the blank space and how much is Solas actively talking through a convenient blood magic paper doll of the mind: I think it's a mix of both, a truly collaborative psychosocial horrorshow if you would, but waaaay more towards the second. It feels too directed and tactical at times to be anything else. Rook's mind is willing to go along with the denial phase as far as it can fucking carry them to not have to face the grief and regret and does its part in papering over details that don’t make any sense, the way brains will strive to create coherent meaning even out of deeply confusing input, but to my understanding it's a collaborateur in how that plays out, not the instigator or control center. Solas is using it as a path to agency and to gather insight into Rook as a person unguarded as he can't count on in his own guise. (That stoic option that leads to him being like 'oh I see you're cautiously denying me access to your inner life. well. at least you still have Varric to talk to. y'know as an outlet :)'. You absolute BITCH Solas! That alone convinced me that he HAS to have an active hand in it on some level.)

My guess is that it takes considerable effort on Solas’ part to make Mind!Varric do anything more involved or complicated than seeming to sit up in bed and give casual commentary, and that’s why he keeps having eerie five minute shallow pep talks with you before he announces he conveniently needs a nap aaanyway good luck kid you got this haha. When he’s just spouting NPC lines from his bedrest, I’m ready to believe that could be Rook’s mind being allowed to improv lines for him more freely because it’s less about Solas trying to get something out of them or working an angle and more ‘Still here! Still totally alive and fine and the mentor figure you know and love and trust :) don’t even worry about it! Thankfully there is no war in Ba Sing Sei, as we all know’ upkeep work lol. Rook’s mind is allowed to set the tone of Varric, the outlines, but not always the content. 

AND, on a (beautifully fucked up) character psychology level, I feel like Solas is indulging in actually getting to be the good supportive mentor figure to Rook with one hand to assuage the guilt he feels about what he's done -- and what he's going to do -- to them with the other. Same internal logic as he uses in Trespasser about the Qun. ‘Almost everyone is going to die from the course of action I’m doggedly pursuing eventually. But at least I can make their last years happier and freer and kinder than they would have been otherwise. and that kind of makes up for it right. a little bit. doesn't it. doesn't that make it better at least. I need that to make it better)'. Did I really take your beloved mentor and friend from you if you don’t know yet that I did? Some philosophers would argue not really! So it’s probably almost ok actually. Isn’t it even a little noble that I’m taking all this grief and guilt on myself and shielding you for now. With undertones that I’m not sure he would realize himself (and might be mortified by if he did) that he is so incredibly lonely, and even a dishonest and indirect emotional connection is more than nothing when you’re that desperate. In this setup he gets idk. Both the control he craves so incredibly badly in relationships and over himself, and the scraps, the fading afterimages, of intimacy and warmth and companionship, even second hand. The one thing Solas and Rook agree on deep deep down is that they really wish Varric weren't gone. They're handshake memeing this in the saddest and most creepy way possible.

I think an important element too is that Solas needs Rook and their team to *succeed* —  up to a certain point. He needs someone to hold the two other elven mean girls off until he can get out of here. Ideally, in a perfect world, even do all the hard work of killing them so he can swoop in at the end and do his thing when both sides are exhausted and out of resources to stop him, and then Bob’s your uncle! Same logic as he was using with Corypheus, and after that worked out so well, too! King of choosing to never learn from a single solitary mistake he’s ever made even though i fully believe he could have the capacity to Fen’Harel <3 The underlying idea isn’t flawed, you see, it was just unforeseen circumstances getting in the way. This time for sure it’ll all work out the way I cleverly imagined it in my head beforehand. Cue By Talos this can’t be happening etc. in the form of a statue almost crushing him like a bug. 

So he's providing guidance and forging Rook into a leader from two angles: one Rook might not trust, and one they probably will. Shaping them into what he needs slowly and carefully. He’s helping you hone your team into their most effective state, as he might have done with his own agents back in the day, setting up his chess pieces even if he has to squint through two glimpsed realities to do it haha. Pincer maneuver of an insidious stealth mentor you never asked for. Also… at one point mind Varric gives you a whole little monologue about how Solas' problem is that he’s always seen his interpersonal connections as flaws and see where it’s landed him, all alone and the worst part? it hasn’t even worked. it’s all been for nothing he’s back where he began with nothing to show for it but his mistakes. Like...that has such strong 'uh okay happy to play your therapist from two rooms away here what the fuck kind of traumadump is this' energy to me, I’m not sure Rook like. Thinks that much about Solas as a private person. So much of Solas' self-loathing and futile insights into his own flaws seem to shine through in Mind!Varric's dialogue all the time — I just can't believe that there's no guiding hand behind it as it were. 

Most of all. I feel like people underestimate the degree to which Solas is incredibly funny. As in, he has a very consistent and recognizable sense of humour. It’s one of my very favourite things about him. We must remember — it is crucial that we always keep in mind — Orlesian accent and wig Solas from May The Dread Wolf Take You (my beloved, the explanation for why I love this dude even with the. All of the everything else. No one does it quite like him). He is not at all above doing things or adding little flourishes for his own obscure amusement, in fact that seems to me to be one of his most consistent traits. The Randy Dowager Quarterly comment Varric has? The ‘Maybe this is the Dread Wolf’s revenge. Forcing us to house sit for him’ thing? To Me this is 100% Solas amusing himself in his boring Fade jail surrounded by the screaming hellscape of all his regrets. Source: it came to me as divine revelation through pure vibes trust me bro 

If nothing else I find it much more narratively interesting personally if the connection between Rook and Solas really is that defenselessly intimate and entwined (and so unbalanced!), and the sense of violation and invasion and betrayal afterwards consequently all the more nauseatingly intense. Even if you kept him at arm’s length in the open, he’s been under your skin the whole time, looking around, gathering what he needs to destroy you, wearing the face of a friend. Regretfully, probably, but choosing to do it every step of the way anyway. (Sound familiar, Inquisitor? Solas doesn’t have that many tricks when you actually look at it, he keeps returning to old tried and true ones like a dog with a bone haha.) Maybe he even genuinely meant some of it as mercy, which only makes it so much worse. It makes his sin against his own core principles of autonomy and the freedom of all beings in mind, spirit and body so much more juicily grave if it’s something he pursues actively and consistently, rather than it half-falling into his lap as a happy accident mainly orchestrated by Rook’s own subconscious. Solas, too, is at his very lowest point, the closest to giving in and becoming his own antithesis fully that he’s ever been, and it makes the choice of whether you still reach out your hand to him one last time or not all the more impactful and difficult.

[timethehobo]

Just finished Emmy’s personal questline and am too full of feels rn so all I have is a tiny doodle tonight. I love him sm. 😭

[dykephan]

this is just a stream of consciousness please don't take anything serious from this... but it makes me so fucking sad that phil still isn't proud of the things he did during dan's hiatus. he still thinks of himself as a babysitter, he thinks of his work from this time as filler content, meaningless and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. it makes me feel insane!! no, i won't argue that this content was groundbreaking or the highlight of his career, but it was comforting and safe - not because he ignored the real world or the struggles he was facing, but because he was honest about his feelings. he made the best of a tough situation and pushed through the limitations being placed on him. he was going through it with health problems and anxiety on top of the normal amount of covid stress and the steady decline of youtube's popularity and his videos only got the most views when they contained a tiny tiny glimpse of dan. how demoralizing that must have felt, to already be feeling scared about how he'll proceed without being Dan and Phil™ and then seeing the justification for that fear manifesting in real time. and then to not even be able to turn that time period into something tangible and real like we're all doomed represented for dan, something that helped dan get closure over a transitional time period and gave him something to look back on to remember it.... it kind of breaks my heart that phil never got to have that catharsis. knowing he had ideas that never came to fruition, that all the work he did create in this time period will forever be seen as "the hiatus" even though phil was working hard the whole time trying to make us happy and give us what we want. to get up on that stage at tit and tell everyone how scared and lost he felt, only for the whole chat to still just be talking about dan. idk. man. idk. there's a time and place.

[oferwood]

It baffled William that Callum could not see the quiet strength he held within himself. So often, Callum seemed to think he was beyond love or care, yet this man still found the strength to get up in the morning and face the day. It would have been easy for Callum to forgo any of his normal duties and while some may have been neglected with the family finances, he was still here, ready to attempt to help. “I’ve not met a single soul who isn’t deserving of love. Even the cruellest of people deserve someone by their side do they not?” It was the world’s rules that would prevent those from loving freely without question. “Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. That is the man I can see you are and Miss Beatrice will see that, I have no doubt.” William was never one to quote scripture, or really believe it, but how could he argue with that passage? “No need to thank me, Callum. You’re stronger than you realize, and I’m just glad to be here for you. And I’d be honored to meet Miss Bennett. I can already tell she’s someone special, just by how you speak of her.” William leaned into the pat on his back, his smile never fading. “I’m sure she’ll be just as wonderful as you say, but I’m more certain that she’s lucky to have someone like you in her life.”

William nodded thoughtfully, his gaze softening as Callum spoke. The words came as a comfort, but they also carried a weight that was not easy to carry. “They may not be able to stop destiny but they can make life incredibly hard and when either of you lack the resources, it can feel like a cruel uphill battle.” But it was a battle that William would persevere through, the only way to stop him would be if his heart stopped beating beneath his chest, even then William would find a way. He leaned back slightly, looking out over the landscape, as if contemplating the deeper truth of Callum’s words. "Your thanks is appreciated but it’s unneeded.” William took a pause. “Cassandra deserves more than what this world expects of her, it’s cruel the pressure that is placed upon her shoulders.” There was a quiet intensity in his tone as he met Callum’s gaze, the weight of the words clear.

At Callum’s promise, William’s heart filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. For so long, he had felt suffocated by the never-ending loneliness of London, of having to watch as other suitors began courting his Cassandra and now Callum offered him friendship and trust.  "Your friendship means more than you know. And I’d never ask you to vouch for me, but knowing you’d stand by me… it gives me strength.” Margate seemed like an untenable dream, after Mr. Lockridge all but banished him and it seemed that the entire town followed his lead, his heart still yearned for the only place that felt like home. “If she is happy there, then I know I will be. I wish for you to know the same, Callum. Perhaps you will find such a place with Miss Beatrice.”

William would never understand how much his words meant to Callum. He’d treated him with such kindness — the type of kindness that one reserved for friends. Which, Callum didn’t have many of growing up. It was a new feeling, to have someone to talk to, to lean on — someone who seemed to care for Callum not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And Callum felt the same for William. He hated the fact that he was troubling William with his insecurities and issues, but he was ever so grateful that Will was there for him — selflessly, when Callum knew he was carrying his own burdens as well. He let William’s words wash over him and bring him ease. He had never hurt Beatrice and never planned on doing so, “Do you think lost people can find love? Are worthy of love?” He fidgeted with his hands as he contemplated it all. He knew he wasn’t worthy of Beatrice — she was so pure, so sweet. But he would try to deserve her. He smiled sheepishly as his friend continued — William knew how to encourage Callum. He knew how to make him feel less lonely, more emboldened. “Thank you, William, truly,” he leaned over to pat the other on his back. “Thank you for not seeing me as weak. I do hope that I can properly introduce you and Miss Bennett soon. You would find her to be as lovely on the inside as she is on the outside.”

Callum took a sharp breath. William’s words were right — they rang true in the society they lived in. He tried passing on some of William’s optimism, “I believe if fate and the hands of high society were to truly wrestle — fate would win. For who can stop destiny? No duke, no lord, no king can stop it.” He’d heard stories of true love, despite station, winning — some closer to his home than others might know. “Anyone who deems true love, in any form, to be foolish has never known the sweetness — the power of love,” he gave the other a warm smile. He flinched at the word ‘sister’ for Callum’s feelings toward Cassandra were nothing close to sisterly, but he wouldn’t dare let William know that. If he and Cassandra were in love, Callum would support them with a smile on his face. William’s words brought Callum some peace; he truly did love Cassandra — Callum could see that, feel that — and he believed she’d be safe with Will. “Thank you for watching over her,” he told the other earnestly.

He thought William brave and selfless for watching Cassandra dance with suitors, be visited by suitors. Callum knew it pained him, he couldn’t imagine how it pained William — someone who’d known Cassandra’s love, experienced it all. He listened intently to William, nodding his head as he did so. “Your secret is safe with me, I promise,” his gaze found William’s, “If anything were to happen, I’d vouch for you — if my word still means anything after Lady Whistledown’s rumors.” He couldn’t help but smile as he listened to William’s dreams. “I’m sure the two of you would be very happy back in Margate — I know that’s where her heart lies.” He was still stunned by William’s confession — of Sir Claremont finding Cassandra and William together and the nagging feeling in his heart couldn’t help but wonder what that meant.

[twilight-deviant]

[Echo 1x05 / Daredevil: Born Again 1x01]