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albertasunrise · 3 years ago

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Just Another Conquest - Part 2

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abortions, Mentions of Miscarriage.

Notes: Still a few touchy subjects in this chapter.

Part 1

You lay there waiting for the procedure to start, heart in your throat as you desperately tried to avoid his gaze. You weren’t sure why Javier wanted to be there for it, why he’d refused to leave your side since he’d found out you were in the hospital. You guessed he felt guilty, after all, he was the one that had gotten you into this mess so you had tolerated him. Had been civil. He had saved you from possible jail time, after all, flashing his badge and convincing the doctors not to report what you’d tried to do to your unborn child.

‘Right you ready?” The doctor asked in Spanish and you nodded, mixed feelings engulfing you at what was about to happen.

You nodded and she placed the probe on your exposed stomach, so you shut your eyes and waited, praying for it to be over. Javier watched you, his heart twisting as he watched the conflict you were suffering saturate your features. You had said you wanted this baby. That you were going to raise it alone and that he had an out. So why did it look like you didn’t?

Then he heard it and all thoughts disappeared like a puff of smoke.

The rhythmic thump of his child’s heartbeat filled the air and his own heart seemed to expand in his chest. He turned to look at the screen, the doctor pointing out the baby he’d helped create and he sobbed. He cried openly and you opened your eyes to see him staring at that small shape, hand over his mouth as he let his emotions flow freely. So you allowed yourself to look.

It was instant.

The feeling of love you had for this tiny being that you were growing inside of you. This tiny life that the doctor informed you were currently around the size of an olive. She then left the imaging on screen as she started to clean the jelly from your stomach and as soon as she was done, Javier placed a soft kiss there.

“Hello, little one.” He whispered and you swooned “I’m your Papi and I look forward to meeting you.” He finished before he looked up at you “If you’ll let me?”

You were at a loss for words. You’d not expected him to be so welcoming of this baby and a pang of guilt struck you. What if you had succeeded? You would have taken this away from him. You’d never stopped to consider that he might actually want this. Want to be a father.

You’d been too scared to consider it.

You were discharged later that day and Javier took you home, helped you get comfortable before putting away the medications and vitamins you’d been given. You weren’t sure when you dozed off but you’d been surprised to find that he was still there when you woke up later that day, carrying a tray of food with him as he set himself down on the bed beside you.

“Made you some soup.” He said softly as he placed the spoon in the bowl and handed it to you “Wasn’t sure whether you’d be up for anything bigger.”

“Why are you doing this Javier?” You asked, your brows furrowed as you gave him a questioning look.

“Doctor said you were going to be weak for a few more days and that you’d probably need a little extra help.” He replied, placing the bowl down when you didn’t take it.

“I know all of that I was there.” You grumbled, “I mean why are you helping me?”

“Because I care about you.”

“If you cared about me we wouldn’t be in this mess.” You spat and he flinched at the statement.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” He fumbled as he pushed the tray closer to you and stood “You don’t want me here... Fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Not you… I’m a fucking idiot. Thinking that you’d accept help from me.” He elaborated “Or that you’d be willing to let me be a part of this baby’s life. I have no right.” He finished as he shook his head and made his way towards the door “I’ll get Connie to come and help you. She's more qualified anyway.’ He threw over his shoulder as stepped through the doorway, only to be stopped when you called his name.

“You have every right to be a part of this baby’s life.” You started, expression softening a little “I just… I just don’t want you to feel like you are obligated to take care of me just because I’m carrying your child.”

“But that’s exactly what I am.” He turned to face you, tears pooling in those chocolate depths “It is my duty to care for the woman who’s to give me the greatest gift I’ve ever received. So I will do that however you’ll let me. Not because I need to.” He paused, locking eyes with yours “But because I want to.”

You nodded at him, giving him a weak smile before picking up the bowl of soup he left beside you and hummed in delight at the savoury flavours.

“Did you make this yourself?” You asked and he nodded shyly “This is really good. How did you learn to cook like this?”

“I nursed my mum through cancer.” He replied honestly and you looked up at him in shock “Kinda taught myself to cook so that I could take care of her and pops. He uh… Well, he didn’t cope well with her illness. Even worse when she passed.”

“Javier I-”

“I’m glad you like it Hermosa.” He interrupted with a smile, changing the subject “I’ll be just out here if you need anything.” He finished and you nodded, watching him leave whilst your heart ached for him.

3 months along…

“So the baby is around the size of a plumb now according to the baby book I got.” Exclaimed Javier excitedly and you smiled sweetly at him.

“You read a baby book?” Snorted Steve as he laughed at Javier’s statement, earning a smack on the arm from his wife.

“I think it’s sweet.” Announced Connie as she gave Javi’s arm a friendly squeeze.

“Have you told work yet?” Steve asked you, taking a swig of his beer.

“No.” You replied, shrugging as you spoke “We wanted to wait another month. Just to be sure everything’s… well you know.”

“Makes sense.” Connie replied as she placed a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you “So there’s been no complications from…” She trailed off and you caught the hurt that flashed in Javier’s eyes.

“No.’ You replied simply, giving him a regretful look “We’re both very lucky.” You finished as you placed a hand on your slight bump.

“Still can’t believe you tried to get rid of it yourself.” Said Steve, not seeing the glares he then received from you and Connie.

Javier felt his stomach twist at the memory of it. Standing abruptly from his seat and making a b-line for the bathroom, Steve watched his partner leave with confusion etched into his features before finally turning his head to see the angry stares of you and his wife.

“You really do need to work on your mental filter Steve.” Connie growled as she turned to look at you “I’m sorry. You okay?”

“I am but Javi…”

“He’ll be okay,” Steve waved off but you shook your head.

“No… You don’t...” You paused a moment, remembering the conversation you and he had shared a few weeks back ‘It still hurts him to know I tried.”

…

2 weeks prior…

‘So I got this baby book.” Said Javier as he placed a large paper bag down on the table “And don’t be mad, but I got a few other things.”

“Javier I’m not even 3 months along.” You chuckled “There’s still a risk that-”

“That what?” Javier asked, his tone taking you by surprise.

“That I could lose it.” You said, voice cracking a little when you saw the expression that spread across his face “I just don’t want to jinx it.”

“You tried to get rid of it and it came through that. I’m sure-”

“Why are you still holding that over me?” You snapped “I made a mistake Javier. You need to move on.”

“Move on?” He growled, tears forming in his eyes “Move on from the fact you tried to kill our baby?”

“I was scared, Javier!” You yelled “I let you in, gave myself to you and you rejected me. Quite publicly I might add.” You paused as you tried to calm your breathing “I’m then forced to take two months off because I became the talk of the embassy and in that time I find out I’m pregnant. How was I supposed to feel about it all Javier?”

“You should have come and talked to me.” He said, tears streaming down his cheeks “I would have-”

“You would have what?” You pried “Welcomed me with open arms? Told me that we could be a happy family and that you’d made a mistake telling me I was nothing more than a stress relief exercise?”

“I never said that.”

“Oh no… we were just two friends comforting each other right.” You scoffed “Except I was in love with you...” You stopped yourself there, unable to believe that you’d just blurted that out. “I’m glad you want to be a part of this baby's life, Javier. It’s not exactly the sort of situation I’d ever expected to have a child but we have to play with the cards we’re dealt. So why don’t we just agree not to discuss the horrific thing I tried to do and just celebrate and enjoy this experience.” You paused as you took his hands in yours “I’m sorry I nearly took them from you. I know it hurts you and it pains me that I inflicted that on you but they’re here.” You placed his hand on your stomach “Growing inside me, safe and sound. We’re going to be okay.”

He'd simply nodded, unable to say anything else on the matter but he knew that he needed to try and move on as you said. It had all turned out for the best.

Right?

…

Steve sat there in shock, reeling from what you’d just told him. His partner hadn’t talked much about what had happened, it had been Connie in the end that had told him, after gaining your permission of course.

“I should go talk to him.” You said as you pushed yourself to your feet, only to be stopped by Steve.

“Let me.” He said as he stood from his seat “My fault he’s upset.” He finished as he made his way to where Javier had gone.

He found his partner staring down at a sleeping Olivia, shoulders shaking as he desperately tried to keep his internal struggle from slipping to the surface. He didn’t notice his partner step up behind him and tensed when the man's hand landed on his shoulder.

“What you doing in here partner?” He asked softly, glancing at his sleeping daughter before returning his attention to Javier.

“What if I’m no good?” He asked, taking Steve off guard.

“What do you mean brother?”

“What if I don’t make a good father?” He asked, letting out a shuddering breath “She tried to terminate the pregnancy because she didn’t think I’d want this.”

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” Javier growled as he fell back into the soft armchair beside Olivia’s cot “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” He asked, perching on the changing table opposite his companion.

“No.” He replied, shaking his head “I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

“Well, I dunno how to advise you then man.” Steve sighed, scraping a hand over his mouth “All I can say is that you’re an idiot. She's an incredible woman and you’d be lucky to be with someone like her.”

“Trust me I know but… I don’t know I guess I just don’t know her well enough.”

“Well then make an effort to. See where that takes you and if you still don’t feel anything for her then fine but you owe it to her and your baby to at least try and see if there’s something there.” His partner finished as he got to his feet and placed a comforting hand over his shoulder “Just think about it Javi.”

…

“I should see what’s taking them so long.” You said, your nervousness getting the better of you “I’ll be right back.” You said over your shoulder to Connie before getting to your feet and making your way to where you knew Steve and Javier were, stopping when you heard their voices.

“Well, you did publicly humiliate her.”

“Fuck I know that Steve.” You let out a stuttered breath as you continued to listen “I made a mistake but something really wonderful has come out of that. I just… I dunno how this is going to work.”

“Do you love her?” Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his answer.

“No.”

Your heart shattered.

“I mean she's attractive and we had a great time but no… I don’t love her. I’m not looking for anything more with her.”

You couldn’t listen a moment longer. You made your way back to the kitchen where Connie was finishing up with the dishes, grabbing your cardigan and purse.

“You off?” She asked, noting the change in your demeanour as you headed towards the front door.

“Yeah, I uh…” You paused, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably “I’m tired. Say good night to Steve from me.” You choked before heading out the door, finally allowing yourself to fall apart the moment you were out of sight.

…

“She gone?” Asked Steve as he and Javier made their way back into the lounge.

“Yeah just a moment ago.” Connie stated as she looked at them both “She seemed pretty upset.” Her concern was evident in her features.

Javier’s stomach dropped. He said nothing, just sprinted out the door where he found you curled up on the ground as your tears fell freely. He was at your side in the blink of an eye, crouching down in front of you as he tried, desperately, to get you to look at him.

“Hermosa.” He pleaded and you finally look at him “What's wrong? Is it the baby?”

“Leave me alone Javier.” You growled, your sadness dissolving into anger.

“What is it?” He asked again and you scoffed at him.

“I think it would be best if we go our separate ways, Javier.” You said as you pushed him away and got to your feet “This isn’t going to work. I’m going to go and you can go back to screwing whoever takes your fancy. You aren’t cut out for this.” You finished as you cradled your small bump.

He recoiled at that, his own insecurities finally breaking free.

“I won’t stop you from seeing them. I’ll send you my address when I’m settled and if you want to come and see them then that's fine.”

“You’re leaving?”

“We both know I can’t stay here.” You growled.

“But the baby.” He sobs “I’ll miss everything.”

“You were going to miss that anyway.” You spat as you made your way over to the stairs “You’re a fool if you think you were actually going to see this through. We both know you can’t commit.”

With that, you left, stalking down the stairs and leaving a broken man in your wake. You were right. Of course, you were. He wasn’t cut out to be a father, he was deceiving himself and yet he'd wanted so desperately to try. Steve’s words floated around in his head. He should try to get to know you, to try and make a go of it but how could he when you wanted nothing to do with him. He wasn't against the idea of a relationship with one woman, he'd tried once before with Lorraine but that had crumbled to the ground.

Could things be different with you?

Sinking to the floor he allowed himself to weep. To mourn the loss of his child for he knew that you’d keep them from him, you were right to. The floor is where Connie found him a short time later and it was where she held him as he cried. When his tears dried up she pulled him inside, comforted him as he slowly turned into a shell of the man he once was and Steve knew this was his fault. He had to fix it. He just wasn’t sure how.

2 weeks later…

Steve had worked hard to try and bring the two of you together. You’d not mentioned leaving again but you’d also not spoken to his partner since that night. He had pleaded with you to try, told you how broken Javier had been since then but you struggled to believe the agent. You’d heard what Javier had said, he didn’t want to be with you and that he wasn’t sure how this was going to work. You knew what that meant. So you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

You had to do right by your unborn child.

Steve continued to plead Javier’s case, however, telling you that the man was terrified to approach you for fear you would slam the door in his face you gave the blonde an opening. If Javier could come to you and make you believe that he was serious you would stay. If he couldn’t you would leave. Little did you know that the two DEA agents would be shipped off to Medellin for two weeks before he even got the chance.

Javier knocked on your door, flowers in hand and he nervously shifted from one foot to the other but when no answer came his brows furrowed in confusion and he knocked again. He'd had time in Medellin to think about things. To think about how he did want to try and make a go of things. Just because he wasn't in love with you now... Didn't mean that wouldn't come with time. He'd started to picture the family he could have with you and his heart had swelled at the idea. Knocking a third and final time he let out a frustrated sigh.

Still nothing.

Resigned to the fact you weren’t home, he sprinted upstairs and knocked on his partner's door, knowing his wife would be home with, hopefully, a little update on how you were. He’d read in the baby book that morning that now, at 14 weeks, the baby was around the size of a nectarine and that had excited him to no end. He had wondered if your bump had gotten any bigger and how you’d been coping with the morning sickness, something that had been a struggle when he’d last spoken to you.

“Javi.” Said Connie as she opened the door, Olivia in her arms “What are you doing here?” She asked as she bounced her fussy baby in her arms.

“Is she here?” He asked, saying your name when Connie gave him a bemused expression.

“You don’t know?” She questioned, her face crumpling at the realisation that he couldn't have.

“Know what?” He asked, his pulse racing as he watched Connie’s expression change to one he struggled to read “Connie where is she?”

“She left.”

Part 3

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sserpente · 5 years ago

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A/N: I received two anon requests quite a while ago and decided to keep them because the idea was… hot! I hope you all had some lovely holidays! Enjoy reading! ♥

Words: 2392 Warnings: smut, smut, smut… and a lot of fluff

Additional NSFW warnings: teeny tiny bit of dub-con, depending how you look at it, sleep fucking, cockwarming and forced orgasm (we’re going at it again, my lovelies! Prepare to take a cold shower after this!)

It was not that you didn’t care about the others. It was just that you cared about Loki more. The Avengers knew that—there was no point in pretending you were not selfish in that aspect. Besides, for a very long time, nobody truly seemed to care about Loki before, not until you stepped into his life and threw his emotions into turmoil. You grinned deviously at the thought. Together, you were one of a kind. An inseparable and invincible team against the nine realms.

To begin with, you had been unsure if he would let you win his heart even though he had been unable to deny his own reactions to you. Soon enough, however, Loki had begun courting you—right until this one, fateful night in Norway where he had kissed you under the glooming Northern Lights.

You missed him. More than you could couch in terms. Loki had been away on a mission with Thor, somewhere in the depths of Niflheim for several weeks now. Only a handful of einherjar as well as Valkyrie had accompanied him, the only life sign you received every other day when Thor contacted Tony to give him updates which left you worrying about him most of the time.

Your bed felt so empty without him, so cold. Loki had become the most important person in your life in such a short time period it almost scared you.

“Good evening, Miss (Y/L/N),” You looked up to the ceiling when you heard FRIDAY’s electronic voice ricocheting through Loki’s and your room. “Mr Stark has asked me to let you know that Thor and Loki have just returned from their mission. They are—” The AI was unable to finish delivering its message. You had already bolted through the door regardless of the fact you were already wearing your pyjamas.

Thor was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the massive living room, his dirty boots staining the soft carpet to his feet and his precious hammer resting on a cushion by his side. Frantically, your eyes scanned your surroundings. Loki found you first, greeting you with a mischievous smirk as soon as you laid your eyes upon him.

“Finally…” You dashed forward, throwing yourself into his arms. The God of Mischief grunted from the galvanic impact, making you push him an arm-length away from you with a concerned expression on your face.

“Are you hurt?!”

“No… just… exhausted.” He leaned his forehead against yours, pressing you tightly against his body despite the heavy tiredness in his limbs. Thor was taking all the credit, as usual. There were always two sides of a story and the Avengers, whenever the Asgardian brothers were involved, only ever cared to acknowledge Thor’s version.

“Did everything go well?” You asked him with a quiet voice all the while ignoring the heated conversation Thor had started with his rumblings about war, battle and triumph.

“There were minor complications. We had the element of surprise.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me the details tomorrow. You should rest, my king.” Loki smiled in response.

“Not just yet…” He mused. “First, let me show you how much I missed you, my sweet pet…”

Your loins caught fire the moment his hot breath brushed against your ear, promising a night filled with pleasure and passion. You clung on to him, desperately, as he lifted you up like a bride and carried you back to your shared room.

“But I do have to admit that we couldn’t have done it without my brother this time.” Thor said in just that moment. “Right, Loki?” He looked up, searching for him, but he was already gone. “Loki?”

His mouth came crashing down on yours before you had a chance to feel the ground under your soles again. Loki gently put you on the bed and threw the covers back, his lips never ceasing to explore yours. You could practically taste his longing for you, that burning desire setting your skin ablaze. Adrenaline from battle and violence still cursed through his veins, your willing body and mind an anchor to his aching soul.

His greedy hands dived under your thin shirt, caressing your naked skin. Your back arched when his fingertips reached the underside of your breasts, your nipples already hard and awaiting his touch. You whimpered—a soft sound urging him on to take from you what he needed, only to return more bliss to you than imaginable. Loki was a gentle lover, considerate. He took pride in how often he could make you quiver and moan underneath him before he sheathed himself deep inside your demanding quim.

Soon enough, he occupied himself with your knickers, his long digits travelling over your abdomen all the way down your body so slowly you shivered from the anticipation until he reached the hem of the thin fabric. He took his time sliding them off of you until you could kick them out of bed. You sat up, if only for a brief moment to get rid of your shirt. Loki eyed your body hungrily, taking in every single inch you so willingly presented to him. When you lied back down, bucking your hips already eager for his body to join with yours, an animalistic growl escaped his lips. Loki attacked your neck with a ferocity which made you tremble beneath him. His hands barely managed to free his aroused member from his dark leather trousers as he nibbled and suckled on your sensitive skin, determined to leave passionate love bites all over you to mark you as his. You would never belong to anyone else.

Breathing heavily, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders. More. You needed more, so much more.

“Loki… take all of your clothes off. Please… I want to feel you.” It was a silent plea, one Loki found himself unable to resist. There were, after all, certain perks of wielding seidr. His armour all but melted off of his body, along with, so you presumed, the dirt and sweat from exhaustion and his recent fights. A moan escaped your lips when his now naked skin touched yours, removing the last ounce of distance there had still been between you.

He was already hard, leaking precum from the pink tip. You longed to give his impressive length a long lick, tasting his arousal as much as he could taste yours when, without any forewarning, he thrust two of his long fingers into your leaking core and curled them just where you needed it the most, testing your wetness.

You were more than ready for him. Loki usually had you on the verge of madness the moment he kissed you, all your worries and sorrows drifting away from your troubled mind. This night was no different. In this very trice, you were his and he was yours. There was no one else.

Loki was demanding in the way he made you spread your legs to position himself between them, stretching your wet entrance inch by inch as he penetrated you to the hilt. Neither of you failed to cherish the moment as he shifted most of his weight onto you in an attempt to get as close as physically possible. He leaned his forehead against yours once more, his warm breath brushing against your moist lips. Only when you wrapped your legs around his hips to impel him did he retreat almost entirely and buried himself back inside you. His pace was steady, intimate. This wasn’t just passionate fucking—this was gentle and tender love making between two people who loved each other. Loki’s pelvis grinded against your clit with every powerful thrust, your breasts bouncing with the impact. It was a mesmerising sight, to say the very least. How could he resist not kneading them, caressing them and cupping them softly, one at a time? His thumb interchangeably rubbed over your hardened nipples, sending shockwaves of arousal through your entire body—they gathered right between your legs, promising release. You needed just… a little more stimulation…

Another, needy whimper escaped your lips when you felt his other hand sneaking down to where your bodies were joined, his teasing fingertips finding your clitoris with ease. He was panting, capturing your lips in another chaste kiss as he picked up his pace and prodded into you harder and faster, his fingers still massaging your sensitive bundle of nerves until he had you right where he wanted you—on the brink of orgasm.

“I can feel you tightening around me, pet…” He grunted hoarsely. A hearty moan accompanied by his name was the only sound you managed to utter in response. “Cum… cum for me.”

So you did, his soft command a dizzying invitation. Over and over, his name rolled over your tongue, echoing through the room. Your fingernails dug into his hips, wanting him even deeper inside you as your orgasm tore through you, setting fire to every cell of your body. Your toes curled, your back arched, your hips kept bucking up to meet his thrusts…

“Yes…” Loki hissed blatantly. At loss for more words, he began rutting into like an animal—like a tiger that had been caged and now pounced on its first willing victim. His hard cock, desperate for relief now, throbbed, pulsing against your tight walls. With a low grunt, Loki spilled himself inside you, filling your still quaking and contracting cunt until his warm seed dribbled down your inner thighs, tickling your sweaty skin.

His stamina never ceased to impress you—and he did not content himself with claiming you just once. No. The majority of the night had passed by the time you almost passed out from exhaustion, even more so than Loki after returning from his mission. He was more than compensating and making up for the time he had been away from you.

It was dark when you awoke again, your eyelids fluttering open only to be met with utter darkness. What was it that had so rudely ripped you from dreamland? It must have been in the middle of the night. Surely Loki had switched off the light with a simple wave of his hand after your passionate love making. And all too soon… all too soon you realised what was happening.

Loki was lazily thrusting into you again, whispering sweet nothings into your neck. His right hand was cupping your breast possessively, his thumb stimulating your hardening nipple.

“Oh… oh, fuck…” You moaned when he circled his hips, his pelvis grinding against your clit in such a delicious manner it fuelled your own arousal climbing up into dizzying heights within a matter of seconds. You were still wet from your passionate love making, remembered, after being taken times and times again and after clenching and cumming around his cock, letting wave after wave of pure bliss wash over you, and you recalled begging him groggily.

“No… Stay inside me, please.” You had fallen asleep with him still resting deep inside you, softening slowly. Loki had been unable to deny how wonderful it felt to have your warm cunt envelop and warm him for the night. He was slumbering soundly now—and he was… dreaming. Dreaming of… claiming you again? You bit your lower lip when his thrusts intensified.

“L-Loki? Wake up, my king…” You realised quickly he had a very deep sleep. Without ever opening his blue eyes, he rolled fully on top of you for better access. You tried to move your arms to control his vigorous rutting but found yourself paralysed, your eyes widening when you noticed. You could not move a limb. What… what was he dreaming? Had he bound you in his very own world? Tied you up with silk rope like he sometimes did in a conscious state? Shifting just a little, you raised your hips up against him. Loki had rendered you completely helpless, ravishing you intimately without his knowledge… and even though it scared you a little—so utterly at his subconscious’ mercy—you found yourself growing more and more aroused.

“Loki… I can’t move… Loki, wake up…”

Loki was not even touching you and yet… yet with a start, it almost felt like invisible fingers were stroking your clit, gently pulling an orgasm from you. Without a doubt, the God of Mischief was using his wicked seidr as he took his release from you. He played your body like an instrument, face buried in your neck and plastering wet and seducing kisses all over your skin.

He grumbled, eyelids twitching slightly. Finally, his blue gaze met yours in the dark, still drowsy and sleep-drugged.

“Oh God…” You moaned, too close to orgasm to grasp a proper thought.

Even if you had wished to, there would have been no stopping him from forcing you to climax for him. Muttering his name when pleasure took control over your body, you threw your head back, your tight walls clenching around him rhythmically, milking him for all he was worth. Loki came, too. He moaned quietly, sheathing himself as deep inside of you as physically possible as he marked you with his warm seed yet again, his manhood pulsing and jerking against your wet cunt.

The dark room was filled with nothing but your rapid heartbeats and your heavy breathing for a while. You were still quivering from your own high, your pussy barely contracting around his slowly softening member when he suddenly chuckled softly in his post-orgasmic haze, fully realising now what must have happened.

“My… it seems that even in my sleep, you are still utterly defenceless against me, my sweet pet.”

You groaned—though your half-hearted complaint sounded more like another eager moan. You could not deny how exciting it had been… and you certainly wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

“I’m glad you’re amused…” Raising an eyebrow, you landed a weak slap against his upper arm.

Loki chuckled once more, rewarding you with another lazy stroke. “You enjoyed it.” He stated matter-of-factly. “You were writhing underneath me and you are positively dripping wet…” His smirk sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine. He was already getting hard again, you could feel him twitch slightly inside of you. A devilish grin spread on your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me.” It was a wish Loki could never turn down before.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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izzyinarchive · 4 years ago

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discussing the final season of carmen sandiego

*spoilers* umm....so yeah, i finished watching carmen sandiego, and i’m left in a state of perpetual sadness and despair. i feel like the ending of the show wrapped up wayyy too fast, and kind of left off on a bit of an unsatisfactory note for some of the characters. although i love the large and diverse cast of carmen sandiego, one of the drawbacks of having all those characters and arcs and storylines makes it harder to cram in a satisfying conclusion for everyone in a twenty-minute episode. so here’s what i would do if there was more time.

let’s start off with the threads that i think were tied off pretty well:

julia & chase devineaux: i wasn’t really a shipper of julia and devineaux but i actually really enjoyed their relationship throughout season 4. we see a lot of character growth from devineaux in the way that he interacts with julia and the world. julia pushes devineaux to become a better person, to see things with a broader perspective and from other people’s points of view. and he does really change a lot into an understanding person instead of the overconfident, arrogant detective we first saw him as in season 1. in addition, he also grows to respect julia as a person and partner, and it’s completely adorable how he looks at her while zari tells julia that they’ll follow her lead. also i love how he keeps wearing his lucky cat jacket from san francisco in season 4.

el topo & le chevre: okay, i was pretty much shipping these two the minute they showed up on the screen together. you can tell how much they care about each other throughout the series. whenever one of them gets hurt, you can really see how they prioritize each other over whatever thing vile is planning. when things are good, they’re so sweet and they have so much fun together. and they take dumb cute selfies. they’re so, so adorable, and this season definitely brings the shipping fodder. and they end the season moving on from vile and running a food truck together. the only thing i’m mad about is that we definitely needed more screen time from them.

shadowsan: i didn’t like shadowsan in season 1 but over the course of the series he really went through a lot of major character development and i love how he’s now basically a grumpy dad figure to carmen. the season ends with him finally reuniting for good with his brother in japan, and it’s a satisfying conclusion for his arc. i also love how he was the one to help carmen in the finale when she’s struggling with the brainwashing thing. which is way better than the brainwashing being resolved by some bs like true love’s kiss. (also carmen and gray are way too hurt and they’re super not ready for a relationship.) carmen sandiego is a show that emphasizes the importance of family with this father-daughter duo, and i think that’s something really valuable. also i’m interpreting that shadowsan isn’t permanently moving to japan, but rather just visiting his brother. he’s still definitely going to be there for carmen going forward when she needs him.

player & carmen’s friendship: i love this show for having a male/female friendship with absolutely no romantic feelings going on. it’s a solid friendship, and depicts a wholesome, supportive relationship. absolutely no qualms here.

and here’s all the stuff that needs expanding/fixing:

tigress: i actually really love tigress as a character, and i personally think that there should have been more of her in the series. i would have liked to see more depth and motivation to her, since she has a lot of character potential. i don’t really know how i would rewrite tigress’s arc, because it’s virtually nonexistent and there’s not too much to go off of. i don’t think she needs a redemption arc, but i would give her more of a spotlight. (also low key fictional-crushing on her.) i would like to include sort of a tigress-centric episode, which can also generally be more expansion on the inner workings of vile.

cleo & saira: villain couple. villain couple. they need to be a villain couple, enough said. i would rewrite season 4 to have include an emotional downbeat moment in which saira struggles with being able to fit in with society and humans and being completely awkward at it while cleo, in all her regal and ettiquite-esque manners, tries to help. this wouldn’t really help with the main plot, but it would be humanizing and provide character depth. i feel like this could be the b-plot in the tigress episode somehow.

coach brunt: you don’t betray family. at this point, coach brunt has lost the daughter she raised, who, in her mind, has basically backstabbed her entirely. coach brunt was also betrayed by shadowsan and left for the police to find, and in season 4, malestrom basically abandons her to drown. and it’s highly likely that somewhere in her backstory she’s been betrayed many times, likely by her own blood family, which would provide context for why she’s such a loyal person to vile, who she thinks of as her found family. in rewriting season four, i’m adding one extra episode that’s solely on the backstory of coach brunt. in this episode, we would explore brunt’s upbringing and the first time she is betrayed by someone she considers family. in my opinion, coach brunt was likely pushed to fall by another influence, but she also makes the conscious choice to choose revenge over moving on. potentially, we could also explore brunt’s budding friendship with the mechanic, who we never see again after that one episode, as well as a reflection upon this from her adult self.

gray & the freaking mind control thing & his moral struggles: *sighs* i can see what the show is going for, but i really just don’t see it in the execution. the way that gray struggles with morality is like it’s an on and off switch. he’s either graham, basic civilian, or crackle, basically evil. in that one episode, he flip flops between being overly heroic, even taking out time from his day to specifically track down a random kid to return his wallet instead of just dropping it off at the police station or leaving it where he found it. and then the flip side is like he’s just robotically relapsing into stealing mode, where he just suddenly has to impluse to steal literally anything. i feel like this flip flop wasn’t really a good portrayal of his struggle and didn’t really demonstrate many active choices made by him. and the way that he’s just like “i’m actually just evil” when he confronts carmen at the lab is just super one-dimensional. i just don’t buy it that he flips to vile so quickly in the span of a few episodes. i feel like there should have been more active reflecting and the decision should have been dragged out longer.

also it’s revealed in the finale that gray also changed his crackle rod to not go beyond a stun, and i think this was a nice touch, because it demonstrates his aversion to murder, which calls back to the first caper, in which he’s confronted with killing the archeologist at the excavation site. but he doesn’t end up having to make that choice, because carmen stops him. but this time, it’s his own choice to take that step away from vile ideals. i don’t think gray is ever going to be a “hero” of the traditional sense or have a complete redemption arc, because it just doesn’t fit him. to be honest, i don’t know what the future will hold for gray, but i definitely think of he will fall somewhere along the lines of red x (teen titans) or catwoman’s (in certain comic runs) gray morality. (and i think the way gray returns to vile kind of screws this up.) he’s still going to steal stuff sometimes probably, but he’s not going to straight up murder people. he would probably be the type to work for himself alone mostly, but be okay teaming up with the good guys sometimes. definitely no joining evil organizations tho.

gray & carmen & the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight:” i definitely ship these two, but i think they’ve got a long way to go before they’re really ready to admit their feelings for each other. i’m happy that the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight” didn’t culminate in a kiss scene being the thing that snapped carmen out of the trance. because that is just so cliche and not the message of the show. instead, it’s shadowsan who does. and that makes sense going along with the themes of family. i think the issue with this i dislike how there is no more elaboration after carmen supposedly kills gray. this is her best friend. i would imagine that the reaction would be greater, since he was also her friend and teammate during the months they were both working under vile. and then when carmen’s brainwashing wears off, she agonizes that she killed her best friend. but that’s it. the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight” is the last screen appearance of both of them together. then it’s directly cutting to taking down vile. there should have been a hospital scene where carmen rides with him in the ambulance and talks to him as he’s unconscious, and leaves behind a note for him to read when he’s awake.

i just really think there should be a “heart to heart” scene somewhere in this finale where they confront their feelings (not romantic stuff, but more about like shared trauma at the hands of vile and their broken apart friendship). this could happen at that sydney cafe. both times carmen and gray go on a “date” she leaves him sitting there alone, bewlildered. i think the finale should include a scene of them leaving the cafe together and then walking away and waving to each other. this shows development in their relationship, and that they are now closer, but it also visually shows that they still have differences as they walk away with a sort of two toned kind of environment angle that shows the different paths they have chosen. (and carmen calls him gray. and he doesn’t correct her.) it’s more of a see you later, than a goodbye though. we’re also getting rid of that part of when gray says he doesn’t want to complicate carmen’s life in the hospital scene. instead, he’s going to ask for a sheet of paper on which he will write an indiscernible letter to carmen. (the same letter will be seen in at the carmen brand outerwear hq a few scenes later for continuity, but unopened at the time, as if carmen’s not yet ready to read it. i feel like both of them need to heal a bit on their own before they’re ready to reconnect. gray knows he has hurt carmen in the past but he also knows it will hurt her if he disappears without a trace, so he’s leaving her with the choice if she wants to see him again instead of making the choice for her.)

ivy & zach & found family: carmen leaves a note behind for ivy and zach and leaves to find her mother. i feel like this did not handle team red’s found family very well. basically, the whole show is setting up this importance of family, especially found family not blood family kind of narrative. vile blood runs in carmen’s veins but she chooses to do good and find her own family. ivy and zach both choose carmen, their found family, over their racing career. i think that they should have stuck together, and when carmen goes to find her mom, they would have been totally onboard dropping her off at the airport and saying a “see you soon” or actually driving her to carlotta valdez’s house in lydia (the car). i just don’t think that splitting them up via a note is really a satisfying conclusion to the whole found family aspect. and in that time skip carmen really should have stopped by to say hi to the zach and ivy and the acme squad instead of maintaining the air of mystery. that would have definitely pushed the family feel, instead of the mysterious loner archetype.

that time skip thing: yeah, no. this part was completely not needed and unhelpful. instead, we’re going to have carmen hug her mother at the airport, and go to visit all of her friends and found family, especially shadowsan in japan and ivy and zach in presumably boston. and the time skip will be a few onths not two effing years. i think it’s natural for them to grow apart a bit and pursue their own personal goals in life after vile’s gone, but they’ll definitely be staying in touch and reconnecting and seeing each other pretty often. and lastly of all, carmen will meet gray at the cafe in sydney.

basically, this is how i would redo the episodes for season 4.

episode 1: the beijing bullion caper. (this episode remains as is for the most part, i would like more expansion on lady doksu and shadowsan's past since it seems like their pasts are more tied together than is revealed)

episode 2: the big bad ivy caper. (this episode remains as is for the most part.)

episode 3: the robo caper. (the scenes in which carmen first meets the robot and ivy runs it over with a truck can stay the same. where we start to deviate is with gray’s story with a revised, more complex, and in depth view of his moral struggles. instead of being unaware largely as gray flops between graham/crackle, he’s going to be a lot more aware. he’s still going to rob the house, but instead it’s because he feels hopeless that since he was previously a criminal, that’s all he’s ever going to be. gray doesn’t want to be a civilian, and feels like the only thing that he can do instead is be a part of vile. however, when he sees carmen again, he’s going to realize that if she got out of vile, then that means he has a chance to get out of it too. gray comes to a crossroads of deciding between carmen and vile, good and evil.

episode 4: this will be the episode that concentrates on tigress, with a cleo/saira b-plot. most of this episode will take place within vile, and give more insights on the workings of the organization.

episode 5: the himalayan rescue caper. (this episode is going to get a real makeover. with the insertion of episode 4, this creates more actual space between the last time we see gray grappling with his big choices, which makes it feel like more time has passed. so it actually feels like he had more time to think. carmen’s still going to try to rescue gray, and the part with player can stay the same. as gray is manipulated by malestrom, i think this episode should further emphasize how vile manipulates their recruits and amp up the shittiness of how malestrom is acting. i think malestrom should say something along the lines indicating that vile is gray’s only family left, this is what he was born to do, he belongs with them, and make up a bunch of bullshit lies about carmen. malestrom will portray this stuff as the “truth” and then say something like “we told you to the full truth, while carmen was hiding your past from you. didn’t you say you wanted to piece together more of your past?” (which gray did express interest in a previous episode.) since more time has passed, malestrom will play the “if carmen wanted to rescue you, she would have done so already. she abandoned you.” card. of course, it’s not easy to get into a super advanced vile facility, so instead carmen’s going to be having more struggles with getting in, which is the real reason she’s taking a while.) i want to keep the scene where he says that his name is crackle, not gray and not graham. i think this scene is particularly painful because graham/crackle is kind representative of the two sides of good and evil that gray thinks he has to choose between. gray will accuse carmen of abandoning him, both in the present but demonstrating that he’s still hurt by the time when she first left vile, and all those times when she kept secrets from him and disappearing in sydney. carmen asks him to leave with her, but instead of him being like “i’m bad, and i was always a villain,” he’s just going to be hurt and feel manipulated and be so conflicted. i feel like gray would choose vile, but not because it’s where he belongs but because he’s afraid of being brainwashed again if he doesn’t agree and because he just wants to know the truth, which vile happened to tell him first (and carmen had been hiding it from him for a while). why would it make sense for gray to willingly side with vile because he’s “throughly bad?” actions speak louder than words, and it’s clear that he’s definitely not evil enough for vile.

episode 6: the vile history caper. (we’re just going to keep this episode as is for the most part. but like more el topo and le chevre moments.)

episode 7: this will be the coach brunt backstory episode, piggybacking off of her hurt feelings about maelstrom’s intended betrayal.

episode 8: the egyptian decryption caper. (this one is just going to be as is for the most part. the cleaners kidnap carmen, but we’re going insert one more painstaking scene of gray learning of vile’s plan to kidnap carmen. he’s not going to know they are planning to brainwash her. he’s going to feel conflicted and try to protest, but then realizes that now that he’s stuck with vile, if he goes against them he’s probably going to get brainwashed himself. and the brainwashing was really traumatizing, so it’s understandable he’s really afraid of it happening to him again.)

episode 9: the viennese waltz caper. (mostly just keeping this episode as is, but more worrying gray scenes. i feel like he should have had a bigger reaction to seeing carmen so unlike her personality. carmen’s lack of empathy should have pushed himself to question if vile is really a healthy place for anyone if they’re so willing to brainwash his best friend in a greater capacity. i think gray should recognize how bad the situation is but he still won’t act upon it since he’s trapped in the nostalgia of their old squad and since he’s been abandoned by carmen before, he’s too afraid that reversing the brainwashing will result in a repeat of her leaving him again. and he’s still afraid of the brainwashing.)

episode 10 + 11 + 12. the dark red caper. (yeah, this episode is kind of just way too quickly wrapped up. i’m going to expand this into a three parter so we have more time to focus on everyone. basically, we’re going to expand this for the angst. and because this is the last season and i need more content. i feel like we can follow the general plot trajectory but with more nuance and include the improvements i wrote above about the finale. absolutely pushing the found family trope to its limits, and less vagueness since there’s not going to be another season. oh yeah, and the scene when carmen fights shadowsan, i feel like they could have amped up the emotional stuff and make it as much as about him being her dad figure as the doll because #foundfamily. and also the extra time gives more space for all of that other stuff like endings for all the characters, and more team red found family, and a bit about the non-jailed vile operatives, and the acme team, and also maybe a little infrastructure rebuilding montage, and also that carmen and gray moment.)

basically i just want a satisfying ending for gray, and i love him, and he can’t just stare out of the hospital bedroom and agree to stay out of her life while melancholy music plays.

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sunfleurry · 4 years ago

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III. 360˚

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: Sexual assault

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

A week later, Eden was getting the hang of her workouts, feeling stronger as the days go by. Yaz was pretty happy with her, telling her that as a beginner, she’s showing the right amount of progress. Eden even started going to the gym by herself sometimes, outside of her sessions with Yaz. She found the gym to be an amazing stress-reliever from school and other aspects of her life, and made it her mission to go workout whenever she needed it. She’d never felt happier with herself than she did after an intense workout.

Harry and Luca still entertain her with their banter at the front desk as she waits for Yaz, she almost looks forward to their chats. The day after their almost-kiss, Eden entered the gym feeling a little anxious with what to expect from Harry. As always, she greeted Luca and asked him about his day before Harry made his way over from finishing with one of his clients. He looked good in this track pants and work shirt, Eden noted. It was almost annoying how he could pull off the most casual outfits. She held her breath as she watched him walk towards them but then he looked at her and flashed her a heart-stopping smile. He greeted her like he always did, enthusiastically, then leaned his side on the desk and asked her and Luca what they were talking about. She sagged in relief with a smile, and from then on, they both acted like nothing happened.

***

“Good, now keep your chest up and keep your weight off your toes, I want you to drive your heels into the ground when you—yes!” Yaz clapped as Eden performed her first weighted squats with perfected technique. “Now give me nine more, don’t mess this up or else we’re adding two more sets.”

If Eden wasn’t already exhausted, she would’ve groaned at the mere thought of working out even longer. Instead, she sucked it up and focused on her technique as she finished her current set, encouraged by Yaz’s cheering.

When she finished, Yaz wrapped her fingers around the bar resting on Eden’s back and helped her rack it. She held up her hand and Eden gave her a high five, feeling proud of her progress.

“Good job, girl! Let’s go stretch on the turf.”

Eden didn’t feel as worn out as she thought she’d be as she followed Yaz, phone and water bottle in hand. As they walked across the gym, Eden heard a familiar deep voice near the mats area. Recognizing who it was, she tried convincing herself not to look, but it was too tempting.

Harry was helping a young expensive-looking woman–like most gym-goers at this five star facility do–with core exercises. The woman was on her back, gazing at Harry in a way that told Eden she wasn’t listening to a word he was saying. Harry pressed three fingers on the woman’s bare stomach. “You need to engage your abs,” he said, then brought his hands to her sides to push her down, “and make sure your lower back keeps touching the floor instead of arching.” The woman blushed at the way Harry touched her despite his intentions being completely professional. He didn’t notice, but Eden did.

Yaz sat on the fake grass, and Eden did the same, proceeding to do her regular lower body stretches the trainer taught her.

“You good?”

Eden’s face snapped towards Yaz. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, unclench your jaw.”

Eden didn’t realize how tense she was and did as her trainer said.

Yaz raised an eyebrow, looking between her friend and Harry, who was handing his client her water bottle before he made his way to the front desk, done for the day.

“I’m fine,” Eden snapped, immediately feeling bad then relieved when Yaz laughed.

“Whatever you say,” she singsonged, looking at Harry again then back to her, giving her a look that told her she’d be bringing up the topic again.

Eden didn’t realize how tense she got seeing another woman flush at the way Harry touched her, no matter how innocent his intent was. It never occurred to her that other people at the gym would find him attractive, and that his clients were close enough to him to bask in his attention.

Switching legs and leaning over to grab her foot to stretch her other hamstring, she watched Harry’s client exiting the change rooms and walking to the front of the gym. Her red hair swayed in perfect curls behind her back, her simple but clearly expensive outfit hugging her body in a way Eden found herself envying. Eden was rarely insecure about the way she looked and she taught herself to never compare herself to other people, but she couldn’t help comparing herself to this woman who was now enthusiastically chatting with Harry at the bottom of the staircase. She didn’t like the feelings that bubbled up at the sight of the woman standing so close to him. When Harry’s client finally said her goodbyes and squeezed his bicep on her way out, Eden glowered at her figure climbing the stairs to the parking lot.

Yaz’s laughter cut into the silence of their bubble. “You couldn’t be obvious even if you tried. You and Harry?”

Eden frowned. “Me and Harry what?”

Yaz narrowed her eyes, moving to a new stretch and gesturing for Eden to do the same. “Don’t play stupid with me.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“With the way you looked like you wanted to murder that woman, I wouldn’t say that was nothing,” Yaz chuckled.

“I don’t want to murder anyone.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Eden huffed. “I’m not paying you to tease me.”

“Last time I checked, you’re not paying for this at all,” Yaz smirked. “So I’m free to tease you about your little crush on Harry as much as I want.”

Eden’s eyes comically widened. “Keep your voice down!” She whisper-yelled, quickly looking at the front desk to see if Harry or Luca heard anything. They didn’t, thankfully.

Yaz seemed way too amused at Eden’s expense. “Yeah, yeah,” she teased a blushing Eden. “Now give me more depth, girl. I thought you were supposed to be a dancer.”

Eden groaned when her trainer pushed her back to the ground to better stretch her muscles, thoughts of Harry forgotten as she focused on not pulling anything.

***

Yaz pocketed her phone. “He said he’s on his way.”

Eden nodded and went back to swiping through the array of dresses on the clothing rack. She was happy to be hanging out with Yaz outside of the gym. She came to care for her trainer and knew that they could be friends for a long time with the way they got along so well.

The girls were at the mall, waiting for Yaz’s boyfriend to drop off some coffee as they rifled through dresses for a wedding the personal trainer would attend in a week to come.

“Oh! You would look gorgeous in this.” Eden grabbed a light blue A-line dress that ended above the knee and held it in front of Yaz who looked at it curiously.

“I don’t know…”

Eden whacked her friend with the hanger and held out the dress again. “Try it on! The colour would look amazing on you.”

Yaz sighed and accepted it just as Luca appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She looked down and seemed to recognize who it was because she only closed her eyes with a smile and melted into him. “Hi.”

Eden’s jaw dropped. “Wait– “

“Hi, Eden,” Luca grinned.

She gasped. “You…?”

“Yeah,” Yaz giggled, meeting her boyfriend’s gaze with a loved-up smile.

“Well it’s a little too soon to tell me don’t you think?” Eden huffed.

Before the couple could reply, Eden only walked over and hugged them both at the same time. “I’m happy for you,” she pulled away beaming. “Didn’t see it coming,” she added, as she pretended to assess them like a science experiment, “but I approve.”

Luca rolled his eyes and leaned down to peck Yaz on the lips. “Didn’t get the coffee yet, I just couldn’t wait to see you. I’ll be right back,” he kissed her again before leaving the store.

Eden cooed but a blushing Yaz glared at her. “Oh, shut up.”

She only laughed and pushed her friend towards the fitting room. “Let’s go, Cinderella. I want to see you in that dress.”

Ten minutes later, Eden had flooded Yaz’s change room with dresses. She loved to play stylist when going out with friends and unfortunately for Yaz, she was Eden’s subject of the day.

Yaz opened the door for the fifth time that day with a scowl on her face. Eden looked at the dress and matched her expression.

“No,” the two girls said simultaneously, then giggled.

Yaz closed the door and Eden leaned against the wall, patiently waiting to see the next dress. A moment later, out of habit, she turned towards the full-length mirror in the stall across Yaz’s and started fixing her already tamed hair when in a flash, a man walked in behind her and closed the door, trapping them both in the room. The girl only caught a peek of his face before he grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers. She gasped, trying to shove him off and after a second too long, he detached himself from her yet kept a hand on her waist.

“What the fuck?!” Her eyes were wide, chest heaving as she took in the man who took up so much of her space. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” he said, his hazel eyes roaming over her chest before leaning forward to kiss her again, but she turned her face, his lips landing on her cheek. “I’ve been waiting for you to get rid of your friend so I can come over.”

Eden felt like throwing up. She tried slapping his hand away from her waist but he wouldn’t relent. “Get off me!”

He frowned. “No.”

“We’re not together anymore, Will! You don’t get to do this.” Eden wanted to slap herself when her voice cracked. This was the first time she’d seen him up close in months and being this close to him brought up emotions she’d been storing away for a year. Her eyes burned with tears as she recalled what he’d done to her and how she let him mistreat her for so long. He made her happy and miserable all at once. She would never let herself go down that road again.

“But, baby—”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that,” she said, angry tears welling up in her eyes. She tried to push her way around him, but he held his ground. “Move, Will.”

His eyes darkened. “You’re mine, Eden. I’ll always be around to remind you that.”

“I haven’t been yours in a long time,” she spat, somehow looking down on him despite being much shorter. “Leave me alone.”

She tried shoving his chest, but Will caught her hand and trapped it against the wall behind her. Chest to chest, he leaned down and kissed her again, ignoring her squirming body. She was stiff, unrelenting, until she did something she knew she would hate herself for. She melted into him, and kissed him back. He tasted the way she remembered and for a moment, she pretended like nothing was wrong, like they were still together and this was one of those moments when they’d sneak off in public.

But it wasn't real. No, the reality was that she was kissing a man who she swore she would never again give the time of day. She came to her senses and pulled away but Will only followed her, reattaching their lips. Her frustration got the best of her and she did the one thing she knew would get him off her. She shoved her knee into his crotch as hard as she could.

He immediately let go as he doubled over with a loud and painful groan, hands flying to his front. “You bitch!”

Eden watched him, eyes wide like saucers as she braced herself for what he might do or say in retaliation. His hulking form was still blocking the door. Then, Yaz’s voice snapped her out of her fear.

“Eden?”

She sighed in relief. “I’m in here!”

“What is going on? Are you okay?”

Will growled, still doubled over. “She’s fine!”

“No, I’m not,” she cried out, begging Will with her eyes to let her out.

“Is that Eden?” Luca’s voice was like music to her ears. “Hey man, let her out or I’m calling security.

“Please,” she whispered but Will was already standing back up to tower over her, still wincing, and reached for the door knob. Worry was the first thing she saw in Luca’s face as Will opened the door, then recognition.

Luca’s eyes shot daggers at him. “What were you doing with her in there?” He ground out.

With the brute finally distracted, Eden shoved her way out of the stall and Yaz immediately went up to her to ask if she was okay.

Will rolled his eyes. “We were just having a little fun.”

Eden was beyond angry at that moment as she regarded the man who she thought loved her once upon a time. How dare he?

Luca shoved his finger in Will’s chest, causing her ex to stand taller but Luca was not intimidated. “If I ever see you around her—”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” Will’s entitlement radiated off him as he walked out of the fitting rooms, eyes locking with Eden’s and giving her a warning look before he disappeared around the corner.

“Who is that?” Yaz asked, dumbfounded.

“A prick, that’s what he is,” Luca said, annoyance lacing his voice.

Eden sighed, and sat on a chair against the wall. “That charming guy is my ex.”

Luca scoffed. “Charming my ass.”

“Luca!”

The man sighed, successfully scolded by his girlfriend then turned to Eden to ask softly, “Are you okay?”

Eden didn’t realize her hands were shaking until Yaz grabbed her left one, giving it a supportive squeeze. “He just ambushed me.” Her dark eyes watered as she recalled the events, suddenly being hit with what exactly had just happened.”Oh, God,” she groaned, facing away from her friends to wipe away the stubborn tears.

Yaz hugged her friend, giving her all the comfort she can.

“Do you want to go home?” Luca’s sympathetic voice asked.

Eden turned her face up to the ceiling, blinking back her tears, and exhaled loudly. She smiled at her friends. “Yes. But you two stay here, okay? Have a cute little shopping date.” She looked at her friend clad in the light blue dress she’d previously picked out. “That dress looks beautiful on you, Yaz.”

Yaz blushed, and Luca looked at his girlfriend with nothing but love.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to drive you?”

Eden shook her head. “I just want to be alone for a bit.”

The couple walked Eden to her car and hugged her before she drove to her building.

***

The drive home left her in her thoughts and it only reignited the anger she felt towards Will. The quiet of her room and her running mind did nothing to subside her emotions. Having had enough, Eden marched to her dresser and slammed open her drawer, pulling out a pair of leggings and a t-shirt.

She barely remembered the drive to the gym until she cut the engine. The lot was empty save for two cars. The stairs seemed to shine under the artificial light as she jogged down to the ladies’ room to drop off her bag. Phone, earphones, and bottle in hand, Eden was on her way to warm up on a treadmill when a sight she was not prepared for stopped her in her tracks.

Harry’s brown hair was pushed back with a few fallen strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. The sheen of sweat seemed to cover his whole body, she noticed, as her eyes landed on his bulging biceps that contracted with every EZ bar curl he did. His shirt strained against the flexing muscles, the face of sheer concentration and determination had her bring her hand to her mouth to make sure no drool had escaped, because frankly, she’d never witnessed something so erotic. She debated whether she should go up to him and say 'hi’ but decided she didn’t want to interrupt his workout.

After wiping down the treadmill, Eden walked over to the barbell area, and loaded up her weight. The first set went smoothly, and as she dropped the bar to catch her breath, she jumped at the sight of Harry’s reflection standing behind her. “Were you enjoying the view?”

He flushed. “No.”

She bit her lip, eyes fixated on his adorable dimple. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hey,” he smiled.

She looked at him expectantly and he seemed to remember where he was. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, was going to ask if I can give you some pointers.”

She felt a blush creep up her neck and he quickly clarified. “Your technique is good. I just think a little adjustment can allow you to benefit more. Deadlifts can be a little complex.”

Never one to miss out on a learning opportunity, Eden nodded. “Sure.”

He pointed at the bar. “May I?”

She stepped back, allowing him to take her place in front of the weight. She couldn’t resist dropping her gaze to his ass for a second as he bent forward to grab the bar.

“So, when you bend down, I want you to bring your hips further back. Like this.” He proceeded to execute a perfect deadlift, leaning forward with just the right precision and driving his feet into the ground as he went back up. “You’re working more your quads than your glutes when you bring you bum lower than it should be.”

Eden nodded, and Harry moved out of the way to let her practice. After watching her do a few repetitions he stepped forward. Eden was not expecting him to touch her, but when his hands landed on her hips, she felt all the blood rush to her face. She stopped at the top, barbell still in her sweaty palms, wanting to ask what he was doing. It was quite a bold move to make without asking her first, and had any other guy done that, she would have given him an earful. But it was Harry, and this was his job.

“Keep going,” he encouraged her.

Wordlessly, Eden started bending back down and with the pressure of Harry’s hands on her hips, he guided them to make sure she was executing the move well. He led her with the next couple repetitions, until the pressure of his hands started easing up as she got the hang of the movements.

Finally, she dropped the bar a little too ungracefully. “Like that?” She breathed.

Harry gulped and reluctantly removed his hands off her body. “Yeah. You got it.”

She made eye contact with his mirror reflection. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He cleared his throat, suddenly finding his Nikes very interesting.

“I’m just…”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, I’ll uh–I’ll let you finish. I’ll just be over there if you need anything.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. He was being cute and bashful, a side of him she hadn’t seen in the past weeks they’d known each other. Seeing her laugh made him smile. “Have a good workout, Eden.”

She watched him walk away, lips twitching, and as he started setting up the cable machine for whatever exercise he was going to do next, he looked at her and winked when he noticed her staring. Her smile only grew.

An hour later, Eden was stretching out her sore legs on the mats, wincing every time she tested her flexibility’s limits. Her olive skin was flushed with sweat from the brutal workout she put herself through, but it seemed to do the trick because Will wasn’t even on her mind anymore. Instead, a certain green-eyed man had taken his place and she only wanted to roll her eyes at herself every time she blushed just from looking at him. At one point, he’d almost dropped a dumbbell on his feet when he caught her staring. The memory made her laugh softly to herself.

“What are you laughing at?”

She watched him drop down to sit next to her. “Nothing,” she smiled, eyes unwillingly dropping to his swollen chest.

“So why are you here? It’s the first time I see you working out so late.”

Her smile disappeared as the memory of Will flew to the front of her mind. “Just stressed out, I guess.”

“Is that so?”

She looked up at him and nodded.

“Are you still stressed?”

Eden’s eyes hadn’t left his as she thought about the question. Was she still stressed? Yes. But the workout had worked away her anger and his presence seemed to calm her.

“I…I don’t know.”

Harry scanned her face, not liking the sight of the lines between her eyebrows or the downturn of her lips. “Are you okay?” He asked quietly.

Eden’s heart began to pound. Every emotion she’d suppressed, not only from the day, but from the previous year which consisted of her trying to get over her heartbreak, started to resurface. She was confused and panicked but tried not to show it. Instead, as she watched him–the compassionate look in his eyes, his hair pushed back with a red bandana, and the array of random tattoos that seemed to flow together–she felt like she didn’t deserve the open look on his face and the kindness that flowed out of him and his desire to make sure she was alright. She didn’t know how overwhelmed she’d truly been until all inhibitions left her body as she surged forward and connected their lips in a slow kiss.

Harry’s hand immediately flew up to cup her cheek, angling her head in order to kiss her properly, the way he’d been wanting to since the first day she’d walked into that gym. She tasted like the watermelon energy drink she’d been carrying around the past hour and he decided it was his favourite drink as she teased his lip with her tongue, wanting to deepen the kiss. He wanted to, he really did, but this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen.

He pulled back. “Stop.”

“Harry, I… I’m so sorry.” Tears lined her eyes as shame coursed through her full-force. What the hell was she thinking?

He quickly shook his head and cupped her face in his hands, looking into her eyes. “I want to, God do I want to. But I really like you,” he admitted.

She inhaled sharply. “Harry—”

“I want to do this the right way. I want to take you out, get to know you. I want to see where this could go. You and I.”

Eden’s first thought was yes. She wanted to kiss him again, to feel his lips on hers again. He made her feel on fire in the best way possible every time he touched her, she’d never felt more herself than when she was around Harry and she wanted nothing more than to tell him. But then she thought over today’s events and the horrible relationship with Will that led up to it. He was still in the picture in ways she didn’t have a choice in. She’d noticed him around a few times, wether it was a few tables down from where she studied at the library or across the hall as she left her classes. She was never too alarmed at the fact that he seemed to be everywhere but today’s events made her keep her guard up a little higher. Will’s possessive words ‘You’re mine, Eden. I’ll always be around to remind you that’ rang in her head over and over again, she didn’t know what he was capable of. How would he react if he found out that she one day belonged to someone else? That she had moved on and was giving herself to someone that wasn’t him. Eden didn’t want to think of the consequences this could have on her or on Harry.

She looked down at her hands. “I can’t.”

The look of hurt that crossed his face made Eden want to hide forever. “What do you mean you can’t?

“I mean… I’m not ready. I just can’t right now. Please, you have to understand.”

“I don’t get it. The looks you give me, the flirting… What was all that?”

Her eyes burned. Eden never meant to lead him on the way she did. In fact, she knew she wouldn’t be ready for a relationship any time soon, but out of pure selfishness, she let herself become fond of Harry. And now, not only was she denying him, but she was also denying herself any sort of potential they’d have together. She never hated Will more than she did at this moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Harry sighed and reached over and squeezed her hand in understanding. She savoured the feeling of his touch before he abruptly stood up and walked away.

***

Let me know what you think! <3

Edit: someone in the notes asked for a tag list. If you’re interested in being added let me know!

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles story

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princesssarisa · 3 years ago

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How "Cinderella Monogatari" Could Have Been Better

I've just finished watching the 1996 anime series Cinderella Monogatari ("The Story of Cinderella"). I'll share my overall thoughts on it later, after I've overviewed a few other versions of the fairy tale. But for now, I'll say that I liked it very much. That said, it does have its flaws. Below are the handful of changes I would make to improve it.

1. Have Cinderella's father be presumed dead through most of the series.

It's awkward to have Cinderella's father still be alive, and not a weak henpecked husband, but merely away on business. Why would Duchess Dalbin so extensively abuse and degrade her stepdaughter knowing that the girl's devoted father will eventually come back? I would have preferred for the Duke to leave on his business trip, and then, a few weeks later, have the family receive the news that his ship was wrecked in a storm and that he's missing and presumably drowned. Only at this point would the Duchess start to abuse Cinderella. This could also add a layer of depth to the Duchess's character. She could be portrayed as genuinely in love with her husband and distraught by his "death," and afterwards she would exclude Cinderella from the family because Cinderella reminds her too much of him, similar to what the 1997 version of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical implies. But in the final episode, the Duke would come back and reveal that he survived after all: he's just taken this long to recover from his injuries and find a ship home. So we'd still have the blissful family reunion the actual series gives us, but with even more emotional weight.

2. Give Duke Zaral consistent motivation.

I like the series' addition of a "Greater Scope Villain" (to quote TVTropes) in Duke Zaral. But at least in the English dub, his motive seems to change completely at random from "Marry his daughter Isabel to Prince Charles and become the real power behind the throne" to "Murder Charles and force his parents to surrender the kingdom." This could be easily solved, though. Simply place the episode "The Disturbing Painter" (his first real attempt to kill Charles, when he tries to have his portrait painted by an artist who traps his subjects' souls in the painting) after the episode "Traveling Toward Happiness" (where his daughter Isabel runs away with her true love) instead of before. Since the series makes it clear that Zaral really does love his daughter, it would make much more sense for his murderous turn to be caused by losing her, especially if he found out that Charles had helped her elope. To quote TVTropes again, it would be his Villainous Breakdown, and it would give him a real character arc.

3. Cut the episode "Prince Charles's Secret," where Cinderella and her stepsisters are forced to work as maids in the castle.

While of course it's funny to see the stepsisters forced to do the same chores they usually heap on Cinderella, the context is ridiculous. If a wealthy duke like Zaral wants maidservants to spy on Prince Charles, why doesn't he just pay real working-class girls to do it? Why on earth would he insult a family of his own social class by tricking a duchess's daughters into visiting the castle only to have them forced into servitude? And afterwards, why does no one ever mention it again? Realistically, wouldn't a trick like that cause a scandal? The whole scenario is contrived and would be better off cut.

4. Make Cinderella less of a damsel in distress.

Now there's no shame in a heroine not being a fighter or needing to be rescued. But it's still a tiny bit tedious to see Cinderella repeatedly being captured or endangered and Charles repeatedly being the strong one who rescues her. Even after he teaches her how to swordfight in "Lets Get Rid of Those Bandits," she never uses the skills she learned in that episode again, particularly not in the finale when she's captured by Zaral. I say remove Charles from some of the episodes where she's endangered and have her rescue herself instead. Have her use the fencing skills Charles taught her throughout the rest of the series, particularly when she's kidnapped in the finale. Not that she needs to use a sword, but at least she could defend herself with a stick or some other improvised weapon. In the climactic battle with Zaral on the clock tower, I'd have Cinderella and Charles fighting him together rather than just Charles. Again, I'm not saying there's any shame in being a damsel in destress, but it would be more interesting to see Cinderella defend herself at least a little bit more.

5. Have the stepfamily rip Cinderella's dress before the ball, as in the Disney version.

The scene where they rip up her invitation to the ball is already a blatant knockoff of the Disney dress-ripping scene, but without the same power. So why not take the imitation all the way and have them rip her dress as well as the invitation? This would also enhance the next scene where Fairy Godmother Paulette works her magic. In the actual series, the fact that Cinderella is already wearing a fancy gown and Paulette's magic just brings its style more up-to-date is slightly underwhelming. We lose the sheer magic of the dress transformation that other versions of Cinderella have. If her dress were in tatters, this would be rectified.

6. Don't have Charles fall in love with the "mystery girl."

Cinderella retellings that give Cinderella and the Prince most of their romance arc before the ball always have a dilemma: what to do with the plot point of the Prince not knowing his beloved's name or where to find her after the ball? Some versions have found good solutions; this one is mediocre. After his series-long slow-burn romance arc with Cinderella, it's awkward to see Charles become enamored in one night with the girl at the ball, whom he doesn't know is Cinderella. Even if it is just because she "reminds him" of Cinderella, whom he thinks will never speak to him again because he lied about his identity, it still seems ever-so-slightly fickle. I'd prefer to have him only regard her as a friend with whom he can confide about Cinderella. Then, after the ball, instead of being depressed about her disappearance, he'd be depressed because Cinderella "never showed up" even though he invited her. But Alex and Hans would mistakenly think he was moping over the mystery girl and set out to use the glass slipper to find her.

7. Give the stepfamily a gradual redemption arc.

Maybe this is what the series was trying to go for, because there are assorted episodes where Cinderella does especially valuable things for her stepfamily (saving Jeanne's life when they're lost in the woods, learning to swordfight and guarding the house against the bandits, risking her life to find healing herbs for her dangerously ill stepmother, etc.) and momentarily earns their respect. But in every new episode, they're back to abusing her. So in the last episode, it feels very abrupt when they start being nice to her after she's betrothed to Prince Charles. If it were played for laughs like in the 1957 version of the Rodgers and Hammertein musical, and they were clearly only sucking up to her because she was the princess-to-be, it would feel less awkward, but it's not played for laughs. It feels as if we're supposed to see it as a genuine, heartfelt family reconciliation, which is completely unearned. And then when Cinderella's father the Duke comes home, they all reunite as one big happy family and the Duke never even learns that his wife and stepdaughters abused his daughter while he was away!

My solution? Put much more emphasis on Cinderella's gradually earning her stepfamily's respect over the course of the series. Don't have them forget the great things she does for them; have call-backs to the fact that she saved their lives, risked her own safety for them etc. Show them increasingly torn between their jealousy of her and their growing respect and gratitude toward her. While they would still have a final "Kick the Dog" moment by tearing up her mother's dress and her invitation to the ball, I'd show them feeling very guilty as they ride away in their carriage afterward. Maybe Jeanne could ask Catherine if what they did was right, and Catherine would reply that they had no choice, Cinderella looked too pretty, the Prince would have ignored them if he had seen her, etc.; but clearly she wouldn't be so sure. Then, after Cinderella reunites with Prince Charles, there could be a scene similar to the opera La Cenerentola, where Charles would publicly berate the Duchess and her daughters for their treatment of Cinderella and threaten to punish them somehow, only for Cinderella to declare that she forgives them and beg her fiancé to pardon them. This would move them to tears and they would finally, profusely apologize to her for all they had done. And when the Duke comes home, Cinderella's choice not to tell him about their abuse could be emphasized as her way of showing faith in their repentance and giving them a second chance.

I realize that all this would probably take up more than just a few minutes of the final episode. So because we've already cut the earlier episode where the stepsisters work as maids at the palace, I suggest we add a new Episode 23, in-between the actual series' second-to-last and final episodes. This entire episode would take place between the slipper-fitting and the royal wedding, and it would open with her reunion with Charles and end with her reunion with her father. Everything in between would be devoted to her reconciliation with the stepfamily. This would be a much more believable, satisfactory conclusion for them than what the actual series gives us.

It's a good series, but with these changes, in my personal opinion, it would be even stronger.

#anime #cinderella monogatari #fairy tale #cinderella #the story of cinderella #animated series #my opinion #how it could be better #rewriting

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amysubmits · 3 years ago

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Do you guys ever have those everyday quarrels all couples seem to have or does D/S take care of that for you?

I wouldn't say that we quarrel but I was thinking that maybe I'm over-analyzing the wording. I asked CD if he thinks we quarrel and he said no. We talked about it in more depth and here is where we landed...

We disagree, but it's not done in a way that feels like quarreling. We just discuss our different views until we can agree. On rare occasions, we may disagree and the disagreement gets a bit...touchy? Sometimes we're able to dissect it in the moment and resolve it right away. Other times we may end the conversation and pick it back up later after we've processed more and the second conversation reaches some sort of resolution.

Other times we don't really even disagree necessarily, but we sort of snip at each other over something, or are a bit short with the other person. Most of the time it's just one snip, but if we both happen to be really stressed out or is overly sensitive to the other person snipping at them, then the other may snip back. These types of scenarios have never gotten heated or turned into an argument for us, but they don't feel very good, still.

I don't mean to suggest that we have no problems, or that there is never tension or friction between us. That we don't hurt each other, or get frustrated or mad at each other. It all happens to us. It happens to everyone, I think.

We try really hard to keep from arguing/fighting though. We try really hard to truly be on the same team, to have each other's backs, to be each other's safe place. A big part of that means being able to disagree without it turning into attacks.

We both feel like couples who regularly quarrel usually have an underlying, unresolved issue. For example, a couple of weeks ago we were at a family member's house and the couple started arguing about who was going to drive their child somewhere. And they were yelling at each other over this...in front of us. And they yell at each other in front of us probably every other time we see these people. I don't imagine that it's really that big of a deal who gives the child a ride. I imagine the reason this tiny disagreement turns into yelling at each other is because they have some other, deeper problem with each other.

We focus a lot on emotional intimacy and meeting each other's needs. That gets rid of having any major unresolved problems that can cause a tiny disagreement to become heated. If we disagree, we keep the focus on the problem because that's the only problem at hand. If one of us snips at the other, we know it's because they are just grumpy or whatever, not because of anything deeper.

Anyway...I would say we don't really quarrel. And it is in part due to our D/s in the sense that our D/s is rooted in emotional intimacy and vulnerability, and meeting each other's needs. But it's not because of our D/s in the sense of like...well he's the dom so I have to agree with everything he says. That's not how it works. CD doesn't get to "win" disagreements because he's the dom. There may be times where we really just have different opinions and he gets the final say...but he does so with respect for my opinion and feelings, still. Whenever we can't get on the same page he never is arrogant about it or tries to silence me. It's more of a "Well...I know you think Y, but I really think X. So we're going to do X. I might end up being wrong but I have to follow my instincts on this. We'll see how it goes." He also takes responsibility for the outcome of his decisions. If he ends up being wrong and I wound up being right, he’ll admit it as it becomes clear...and I won’t be upset because I will know he just really thought his decision was the best one.

D/s doesn’t take care of our disagreements in the sense that there is no like..."Well I say X, you say Y, but I'm the Dom so X is what goes or I'm going to spank you" type of a thing going on here. Neither of us would be okay with that type of dynamic. I occasionally see people think that D/s or DD are a solution to fighting less and I don't think that would work out well. I think that would just silence the sub, make the sub feel disregarded and disrespected, and cause hurt and resentment long-term.

#asks #d/s #domestic discipline

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blushnik · 3 years ago

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I love love your works and posts. Always looking forward to more content from you. Anyways my question is that in Punisher season 2 really trashed billy. What do you think about it. Personally I Hate Krista and Madani. Do you think billy and frank would have eventually started a relationship if billy hadn't been outed for betrayal.

*SOBBING HAPPY NOISES* Lemme just- uh, lemme calm down, this was so much praise I didn't expect to see when opening the inbox 😭🙏💙💙💙💙💙💙

Okay, now to your question *breathing exercises initiated*

First, I just wanna say that I kinda pushed the entire season 2 out of my mind, especially THAT part (y'all know what I'm talking about, I ain't gonna say it out loud) cause it just really hurts but xD I think I can handle it for this one occasion.

Season 2 really went ahead and said: Let's just punish Billy Russo for 13 episodes straight, yeah? Cause the show's name is PUNISHER. And he's PUNISHER's nemesis, right? So we PUNISH him, that makes sense, right? *clown mask here* And people will totally cheer when we finally get rid of him cause he's BAD and deserved to be PUNISHED, RIGHT? *clown levels intensify*

Lemme just point out that Billy Russo DID get his punishment when Frank introduced him, quite intimately, to a mirror. He suffered consequences of it during his coma in his dreams and after with memory loss and all conditions that came with it. And that'd be okay to have at the start but NOT FOR THIRTEEN FKING EPISODES.

You can't beat up a character that much, for that long, and then expect us to be cheering when he meets the shittiest end you could possibly think of. Not to even mention the monumental waste of potential in that story.

Remembering what he did and being told what he did are two VERY different things. If he doesn't remember shit then ofc it doesn't make sense to him how could he ever betray Frank like that. For all he knows, everyone just turned against HIM and made up this lie, his best friends and people he cared about going after him for – in Billy's eyes – no reason. Forget Maria and kids and Rawlins, just the fact my best friend, the only person I ever truly felt connected to and trusted and cared about ground my face against a broken mirror would be A LOT to process.

I seriously expected Billy to remember what he's done somewhere in the middle but somehow the writers thought new characters nobody cares about and an overly complex plot is a better way to go? That letting Billy be just a confused screaming crying mess for the entirety of season 2 while ten meaningless subplots get resolved so he can die right after will somehow work?

Look, I get he was supposed to lose everything he had in season 1, that being not only his wealth and company and good looks (he's still hot shut up and those feeble scars, bitch, what was that, Shadow and Bone did a better job at doing accurate scars) but also his self-control, his control over his emotions, composure, his ability to keep his cool, smooth-talking, etc.

But you can't let him be the victim and then expect the audience to not empathize with him or feel sorry for him and to NOT be okay when he dies right after it seems he finally found some peace, happiness, and love (I hate Krista too but shit, he was so happy with those stupid flowers, Ben sure knew what he was doing when he gave those blue flowers to Alina right before everything turned to shit).

Granted, he did shitty things in season 1 and season 2 too but the difference is this;

In season 1, those were his conscious choices. He never was a victim even in his own story. He knew he stepped on other people in order to get himself higher, he decided when it comes down to it, better someone else than him. He decided that after building himself up, no price was too great to pay just to make sure he was never hitting the bottom again and he had no problem with doing it because he's incapable of compassion and 'even though he loves Frank more than anything or anyone, Billy loves himself just a bit more' – Ben Barnes' words, not mine.

But in season 2, he doesn't know about any of that. He does feel like a victim because from his POV, everyone is simply attacking and somebody close to him hurt him for things he can't believe he did because at that point, he believed he would NEVER be capable of doing such things. And when he does something shitty – it's because he feels attacked, he feels like he needs to protect himself and that he's pushed towards it.

Pretty fking hard to see him as a villain, at least for me -.-

It's almost like the writers were too scared to explore that emotional turmoil and impact it would have on him and how it'd change his character if he remembered. Which is SUCH a shame it hurts. Ben Barnes has put so much nuance and depth into Billy's character, he had dimensions and so many layers so just imagine what it would be to have all of that go through some serious angst and explore his relationship with Frank further.

But no.

Instead, we get this imitation of angst where Billy Russo becomes a punching bag and we're supposed to go OOOH HE STILL EVIL BITCH when he darest to punch back.

And don't get me started on the worst character kill-off I've ever seen. Just no. I am not even sharing my opinions on this cause it's too much to think about.

So there you have it, season 2 is trash in my opinion, they really did Billy so dirty while throwing in subplots and characters that were absolutely unnecessary to have. It could totally be just about Frank and Billy trying to come to some closure (violent or not) and maybe Dinah sprinkled in cause she got a lot of beef with Billy too.

Now just to quickly answer the other question, would they have started the relationship eventually if Billy wasn't outed for betrayal?

Marvel and the Mouse are cowards so ofc not in the canon, but in my humble hcs opinion, ofc YES. Frank's the only one Billy feels a connection with and vice versa. And while it's easier for Frank to care for other people than it is for Billy (since, unlike Billy, Frank is capable of compassion), nobody gets him and accepts him the way Billy does. I like to think of that quote from the Darkling for this:

"I've seen what you truly are and I've never turned away."

That's Billy @ Frank. Together with the reasons, I listed in the previous ask where I pointed out how they complement each other ^^

PS: I just wanna say I actually love Dinah but it may be because of my hcs. She was really getting on my nerves at the beginning and then I just made up stuff in my head that made me really fond of her, like Dinah dating Karen Page and being the good bro for Frank and Billy.

Thank you for the reading if you made it this far, THANK YOU for the kind words and keep invading my inbox if you like 🥰💙💙

#asks #brank #frankenbilly #billy russo x frank castle #frank x billy #more brank rant #i love you anon 💙

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years ago

Text

Resol’nare - Part Ten

A/N: Well what do you know? This story ain’t dead after all! I AM SO SORRY to anybody who has been patiently waiting for this story to update. I had an absolute temper tantrum meltdown breakdown identity crisis with a heaping dollop of doubt to sift through before I felt comfortable bringing this sucker back, and while this chapter is largely filler, I am re-invigorated with my drive to finish this beast and the next chapter is a whole entire doozy. Without further ado, welcome back, Din and Nav!

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: Having just barely escaped an assassination attempt with their lives, Din and Navina agree to help each other untangle all of the knotted threads that they have run into. But Navina may have ended up with a little more than she bargained for when she kicked the conversation off by asking him about the Darksaber. With her history of searching for it so that it could be destroyed and his current role as Mand’alor, will they be able to get past their differences?

Warning: mentions of violence, trauma, death

Word Count: 4.9k

Nevarro.

“Are you in possession of the Darksaber?”

Navina’s question hung in the air of the cockpit, the lingering vibrations of her words still audibly humming around them even though several beats had gone by without an answer from the Mandalorian.

I shouldn’t have led with that.

Gunning straight for the Darksaber was a bold move and one that had clearly shocked him. Being encased in beskar made it difficult for her to interpret his body language but not impossible, and the abrupt swivel of his helmet to bring the darkened visor in line with her eyes as she asked the question told her everything that she needed to know. He has it. Or he knows where it is but it… he wasn’t expecting me to ask that.

Though she didn’t know him well, she knew him well enough to assume that not many things caught him off guard. He had just demonstrated that with how quickly and instinctively he moved to get her to safety under fire, and she’d seen it in the way that he fought the reptavians the last time they were on Nevarro. But since this was a conversation and not something that he could shoot his way out of, a situation where he couldn’t just rely on reaction or muscle memory, it caused him to freeze up and for a few seconds Navina wondered if he wasn’t considering trying a blaster anyway.

Wouldn’t be the first time my conversational skills got me shot at, but…

But he hadn’t reached for his weapon. He hadn’t clapped her in binders or told her to get off of his ship, hadn’t left her stranded in the middle of nowhere out in the lava flats. Perhaps most importantly though, he hadn’t outright refused to answer. Navina’s eyes drifted to the sculpted signet on his shoulder, the vacant eye of the Mudhorn skull staring back at her as she waited for him to break the silence. She recalled what Firo’s mother had told her about what she’d seen and heard; about the two Mandalorians in Diadem Square and the words she had heard them say. Aliit. Mudhorn. Mand’alor.

He has it. He has it, he’s just not sure what to tell me because he-

“Are you planning to challenge me for it?” He tilted his head down slightly, the angle suggesting that he was glancing at the same spot on his pauldron that she was.

What? She snapped her head up to find his eyeline already waiting, the darkened visor boring into her as her heart pounded in her chest. Challenge him? That would be crazy… and he knows that. Swallowing, she slowly shook her head, her long, thick braid tugging heavily at her nape as it swung like a rope. “You didn’t answer my question.”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms over his chest and shifted in his seat. “Neither did you,” he pointed out.

Navina let out a breath in a short burst. “No.” Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips as she narrowed her eyes. “No, Mando, I’m not planning to…I don’t want it.” I want to get rid of it.

“But you know what it is. You know what it… means.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded in answer anyway. I sure do. “Then why should I believe that you wouldn’t want it for yourself?”

She winced, though she knew why he had to ask. Because everyone else who has looked for it has wanted it for its power. Wanted to use it. The thought of owning the Darksaber, of wrapping her hand around its hilt and igniting the fabled crackling, black blade made her stomach turn. Before she could stop it, the image of her mother’s empty helmet skipping over the cave floor like a smooth stone over water, the visor cracked and the bottom edge smeared with blood, flashed in her mind. If it weren’t for that thing I might still… my family might- Stop.

Swallowing the emotions that had started to build up in her throat, she leaned forward to brace her forearms on her knees, hands gripping her opposite elbows. “I guess you don’t have to believe me.” She shrugged, eyes landing again on the Mudhorn on his shoulder. “But I-

“You keep looking at this.” He cut her off, lifting the arm bearing his signet. “So I think you know the answer to your question.” Straightening, Navina sat back in the bucket seat she occupied, her attention back on the man’s dark visor, on the hard lines and sleek angles of the helmet obscuring his face. “But what I want to know is how you found out. You aren’t Imperial.” He spat the word in such a way that made her thankful that he at least seemed to believe that she wasn’t working for some remnant of the Empire. “You’re not a Jedi.” She scoffed and he continued with a slight shake of his head. “You aren’t...haven’t sworn the creed.” Navina winced again. Not Mandalorian. That’s what he was going to say, and he’s...right. “So how do you know about the Darksaber?”

By then, she had lost track of how many questions had been asked and left unanswered by both of them. This is...we’re not getting anywhere like this. Gritting her teeth, she took a second to let out a controlled breath. But if he wants a holochess match, I’ll give him one. “Not a lot of people speak Mando’a anymore, do they?”

The lights of the cockpit’s dashboard bounced off of the beskar as he shook his head, the leather of his gloves groaning as he clenched his hands into aggravated fists. “What does that have to do with-”

“There were two Mandalorians seen on Corellia recently.” Navina chose her words carefully as he fell silent again. “They were wearing cloaks over their armor and whispering about you, Mando.” She stuck her chin out towards him as she stood and turned to lean against the wall panel. “Didn’t catch every word” I didn’t but they were definitely speaking the Concordian dialect…they mentioned the Darksaber. Called you the Mand’alor… they talked about your signet, your clan… your aliit.”

In the same way that the memory of her mother’s helmet had torn through her mind, she felt another flash cut through her thoughts as she spoke the Mando’a word for family. This one was different though, bringing with it the sound of her father’s booming laugh, her mother’s clear voice as she sang to the little one, his eyes wide as he happily clapped along. It brought a warmth that almost filled her chest, sloshing up the sides and swirling once around her heart to remind her that she still knew what it felt like before it drained back into the icy bittersweet depths of her past. It reminded her of the devotion and the love she would always have for her family, no matter where they were now, and it was the one word that she knew would get his attention, make him listen and believe what she was saying.

Because if he has a family… this is where he’ll make his move.

He proved her theory right instantly, the man rising quickly to his feet to pace the small space. “The kid?”

Kid? Navina felt her own eyes grow in surprise. Finding out that the Mandalorian had a child was the furthest thing from her mind when she dangled the word aliit. A riduur, maybe, or else just other loyal sworn clan members, but a child? And he said ‘the kid’ not ‘my kid’... She tried to drown out the sound of her heartbeat as it thundered in her ears. Does that mean… a foundling?

Sucking in a breath, she was hit with another memory, this one slicing deep enough that she could feel the old scar across her back, searing in pain like it had when she received the wound that left it. “Protect him, Ina! Keep him safe!” The task her father charged her with as he and her mother sprung into action to fend off the attackers echoed in her skull. There was the clash of weapons against beskar, the scrape of blades against stone, and her own blood rushing in her ears as she saw a blaster raised and pointed at the place where the foundling sat crouching behind a boulder. No! Without a second thought she flung herself through the air, wrapping her arms around the smaller child’s tiny body, crying out as heat streaked over her shoulder blades.

If they know he has a kid they might be… She shuddered, recalling not just the pain but the absolute terror she felt as she cradled the small bundle to her chest in the memory. They might try to go after his kid to get to him. Like they did with my parents.

After all, it had been other Mandalorians who had attacked them on Yavin, other Mandalorians who had killed her mother. If they were looking to strike at a weakness, other Mandalorians would know how to find one.

“No.” It came out blunt and firm, breaking her from her thoughts. “Naasade kar’tayl. No one knows where to find him.” What? Find him? What does that mean? “I... made sure that I was the only one who knew how to-” Swiveling his head, he seemed to make another connection then, reaching for Navina’s left bicep and making a tight grip. “You said these Mandalorians were on Corellia?” She nodded, his fingers only digging deeper into her arm. “Where?”

Clearing her throat, Navina brought her right hand up across her body to place it over his, her palm making contact with the cool metal of the raised triangle adorning his gauntlet in an attempt to make him loosen his hold on her. “Coronet City,” she answered, eyes flicking from his visor down to her arm where their hands were stacked. He picked up the cue, releasing her but not stepping away, staying close enough to her that she felt his sleeve brush the exposed skin above her elbow as they both dropped their arms. “Why? What does-”

The Mandalorian leaned forward then, placing his hands on the edge of the dashboard to look out the windshield at the crater where her ship once stood, at the smoldering remains of the vessel that had tracked and attacked her. “The bounty hunters that followed you here...” His shoulders lifted and sagged as he took a breath, the curve of his helmet lowering with the slight dip of his head as he spoke, almost as though he felt guilty for something. “They were hired in Coronet City.”

Oh. That’s… a new development. “So, what? You think,” Navina turned to line her vantage point up with his, joining him in surveying the scene. Dark plumes of thick smoke still rose from the burnt, melted bits of metal littering the cracked ground. An eerie shiver went up her spine, climbing one vertebrae at a time until it reached her brain. “You think that the same people are after both of us?” But that’s...that doesn’t make any sense. Unless-

“I think there’s a chance that they…” He muttered a swear low under his breath, Navina only able to make out the derogatory intonation of his voice and not the word itself. “That they might have targeted you because of me.”

Ruusaanyc. Trust him. Tell him what you know.

They were her own thoughts, but they felt foriegn. Her inner monologue almost never came to her in Mando’a, and trust was a rarely used word in her vocabulary no matter the language. Where did that come from? Without realizing she had pulled it out from under her shawl, Navina looked down to see that she was clutching her pendant, the thing emitting a faint violet glow through her fingers as though it was trying to will her to share what she knew with the Mandalorian.

Ruusaanyc.

Huffing out a sigh, she let the Mythosaur fall against her chest and shook her head. Here goes everything. “I don’t know about that, Mando… I think…” It was her turn to mumble a swear into her shoulder as he turned away from the windshield to face her. Now or never. “I think I know who it was and… and I think they’ve been after me for a long time.”

“What does that mean?” Some of the edge was back in his voice and she could tell that he was done with the volley of questions, done with trying to interpret her answers or encode his own. It was a small relief, if she was being honest, to drop the pretense and just lay it bare. This is the Way, right? “Who do you think it was, and why would they want you dead?”

Our enemies think we are enemies.

She heard the deep, smooth voice of the stranger from her dream; the man in the brown robes who her family encountered as they fled from Concordia, the mysterious wielder of that purple blade, the figure who had entrusted them with the care of the foundling and then held off their pursuers as they made their escape from the very group of Mandalorians that they had previously supported.

Death Watch.

No. The people who attacked us, who hunted us, they weren’t… they became something else.

Her parents had been members of Death Watch, her mother raised as a foundling after being taken in by one of their warriors, and her father born on Mandalore into one of the oldest clans that never bowed to the pacifists. They believed in a return to the ancient Way, adhering strictly to the most literal interpretations of the tenets of Mandalorian life. They believed in protecting their clan and their tribe above all else. Even if it meant defecting from the ranks. They believed in preserving their traditions and their history. Even if it meant teaching it in caves. They believed in supporting Mandalore. Even if it meant rebelling against the Mand’alor.

At some point in their exile to Concordia, Death Watch had become an incubator for corruption and hate. At some point, the focus had shifted from reclaiming their home planet from the Pacifists and the Republic to attaining a mythic weapon and the power that came with it- even if it meant forming some highly questionable alliances. And at some point, even that had not been enough. Not for her.

Navina blinked, suddenly aware that too much time had elapsed without a response. Say something. Tell him something… Trust him. Swallowing, she brought one hand up to her forehead, raking it back over her hair. Her palm came away smudged in black soot from the earlier explosion, and she stared at the way the lines and cracks of her hand looked caked in sweat and smoke. “There was a… a rift in the Tribe my family belonged to,” she began, taking a breath and lifting her eyes to find him watching her, standing stock still and silent as space with his arms at his sides.

“A rift?” The jerk of his helmet served to punctuate his question. Be more specific, he’s not going to be patient forever, he’s- “A splinter sect?”

She raised one eyebrow, mouth falling open for a second. He knows about Death Watch then. He knows that it… how it went. Outside of the Mandalorian’s ship, night was beginning to fall on Nevarro. The typically vibrant red of the setting sun was tempered by the smoke in the air to create a darker, subtle maroon hue. On a normal night, it wouldn’t be long before the sky was pierced by millions of stars, signaling that it was time for sleep. But despite how utterly exhausted she was from the events of the day, Navina felt adrenaline pulsing through her body with each beat of her heart. “Y-yes,” she finally managed to sputter out. “They were a part of-”

“Of Death Watch,” he finished with her, his modulated voice completely eclipsing hers and increasing her heart rate by double as she bobbed her head in a nod. “My original covert,” he sighed and she noticed him opening and closing his hands, tipping his head down to look at the backs of them as he spread his fingers wide. “My Tribe? We were known as… as the Children of the Watch.”

The entire galaxy stood still, all sound vanished as he spoke. The Children of the Watch. That’s…

“That’s...my parents, that’s the…” She was vaguely aware that she was speaking, but seemed unable to arrange her words into anything resembling coherency, her chest starting to heave slightly from shock. “That’s the name of the covert my parents were… that they wanted to find...to join.”

“They’re the good guys, Ina’ika.” Her father had promised her as he soothed her in the aftermath of the attack, her mother’s callused hands rubbing an herbal salve over the wound on her back while the little one slept off the terrifying encounter. “The good guys that we can trust.” He took both of her small hands in one of his, closing it around them. “Do you remember how to say it in Mando’a, ad’ika?”

She’d sniffed, no tears in her eyes as she nodded and answered her buir. “Ruusaanyc.”

Her eyes snapped shut then, the corners stinging sharply. She hadn’t cried at eleven years old, and she refused to do so now. Not in front of him. Not… not now.

“Your family wanted to… to join my tribe?” He paced as he asked, seemingly as shocked as she was by the connection that they almost shared. “And they were… you were attacked because of that?”

Navina opened her eyes to see the swish of his cape as he turned to face her. Sort of. “Not because of...of which covert they wanted to join. It was more because they left in the first place… it was-” Tell him.

“Navina?” He closed the distance between them, stepping close to her again like he had when he grasped her arm, though this time he wasn’t as forceful. “Why was your family attacked? What… made them leave?”

A dry laugh completely devoid of humor tumbled from her lips. “It’s obvious, isn’t it, Mando?” She combed some of the soot caked strands of her hair back with both sets of fingers as she spun and returned to her seat. “The Darksaber. The leaders of Death Watch… they gave in to its power. Used it to... “ She had to stuff down the stories that her parents had told her about the “leaders”, the demagolka, the real life monsters that they’d almost followed into the pits of corruption- Gar Saxon. Rook Kast. Maul. Bo-Katan Kryze. Instead of naming them, she shook her head. “My parents didn’t want that. They didn’t want Mandalore to fall under the control of… of people who defiled the title of Mand’alor.”

“Your parents were zealots.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it an accusation even if it was abrupt. “We...the Children of the Watch, other Mandalorians have referred to my covert that way, too.”

She let out another scoff. “It was a little different for them, I think.” That was putting it mildly and she knew it. “They… they believed that the Darksaber had to be destroyed.”

“Destroyed?” He echoed. “I don’t understand. Why would it need to be destroyed? Couldn’t they just challenge whoever had it last?”

He doesn’t see. “They didn’t want it any more than I do. They…” Her forehead furrowed and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, darting back into her mouth tasting of the ashy white residue still stuck to her skin. “Mando, do you really know what it is? What that weapon- how it works? How it...behaves?”

“Behaves?” His head moved backwards, nearly hitting the rear of his helmet against the wall. “It’s a weapon. It doesn’t behave, you learn to use it.”

Though she had never seen it ignited in person, she pictured the unstable, broken currents of energy that her mother had described to her, imagined the harsh sound of it spitting and snapping at itself and anything it touched. Comparing it to the smooth beam of consistent, controlled purple light of the saber that the nameless man that had bestowed the foundling upon her family used, it was clear to her that the Darksaber was a cursed iteration of what it was originally intended to be.

When she spoke again her voice was low and small, barely making it out of her throat. “If you’ve ever used it then you know that’s not true.” She moved her head from side to side, eyes stuck on the blackened T of his visor. “You know that’s not what you really believe.”

“It’s...powerful,” he admitted. “I don’t… I’m not quite sure that I know how to wield it yet, but it… it’s just a weapon, and it-”

“It was never made to have so many masters.” She’d heard it so many times she hardly noticed it slipping out of her mouth.

“What?” Yeah, I get it, it sounds ridiculous, but… She narrowed her eyes. But he wants to believe me, doesn’t he?

Navina gave him a half shrug. “It was something my mother would say. She said that it was never meant to… bond with so many souls. That it was never meant to be a symbol, that it was only ever meant to serve its maker.”

“Bond with people’s souls…” He shifted to the edge of his chair. “Like the Force? The...the Jedi?”

“I don’t know, Mando. Maybe? I-” she let out a heavy sigh to empty the buildup of tension and frustration in her chest. “I’m not an expert, I… I didn’t get to learn everything that she had to teach me.” It came out with a tinge of venom that he didn’t deserve and she immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry, that-”

“It’s fine,” he said, letting out a sigh of his own, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same way; Short changed on knowledge, clinging only to the scraps of what he had been taught and completely clueless about the rest. It’s not fine. Not for either of us. “It’s… there’s still a lot that I need to learn. Things that I don’t really understand but that I… need to.” She thought he was done speaking, a full twenty count going by with nothing but the hum of the air filters and the consistent flash of the starter, alerting the pilot that the ship was fully fueled and ready for takeoff at a moment’s notice, when he finally spoke again. “I didn’t want it, either.”

Something in the depth of his voice made her heart ache for the man. He’s not like the ones who held it before him. He’s not… I believe him. “But you have it now.”

“I… I do. But it was never what I… all I wanted to do was protect my- the kid.”

I believe that, too. If the way that he had put himself in harm’s way to keep her safe was any indication of how far he’d go to protect his own family, she knew that if nothing else, she could believe him on this. But something that he had said earlier circled back to the forefront of her brain, and though she still didn’t doubt him, she needed to ask. “Mando? Where is your… you said he was safe, and that only you could…” He turned quickly in her direction, the motion coming off defensive. No, not because I want you to tell me. She held up her hands then, smudged palms facing him. “I’m only asking because I don’t want anything to…” This isn’t coming out how I… “Mando, I’m only asking, because if the same people who attacked my family are the ones that were looking for you, too… if it's them? Their clan or...or cult? They’ll look for any way to get to you. So if they know about your...son? They came after me when I was a child, held a blaster on the foundling we were caring for and… I don’t want that to happen to you.” Or your aliit.

Her explanation seemed to satisfy him, his hands relaxing against his thighs. “Your family cared for a foundling.” Again it was a non-question, but again she nodded. “Then you know that according to the Creed, if you are able to...reunite them with their kind then that’s what you are obligated to do.” The strange ache she felt for him deepened as she came to the conclusion before he said it out loud. Oh. She noticed his right hand hovering over one of the pouches of his belt, almost as though he were going to open it, take something out. He didn’t though, returning his hand to his lap and telling her what she had already guessed. “I did that. I… he’s with his kind now and they’ll… he’s safe there. No one but me knows how to get in contact with his… the person taking care of him now.”

“You’re still his buir, Mando. Still his family.” Big round eyes and pudgy green cheeks flashed in her mind. You’re still my family, too, ad’ika. “You always will be.” It was odd, comforting him this way. He was a stranger, but he wasn’t. His story was different, but familiar. In another life we could have grown up together.

He must have found it odd, too, though if he did he didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he wasn’t also thrown by the way that their lives were both parallel and in opposition of one another’s. “Thank you,” he eventually said, and she saw his chest rise and fall with another sigh. “For everything that you told me. I… have a lot to think about.”

“I...you’re welcome, Mando, I… I want to help you, if you’ll let me, I… maybe we can help each other. At least until this threat is… handled. And then…” Then I’ll disappear, let you lead your people however you… however you think is best.

“I’d...like that. I want to be able to think of you as an… an ally.” Navina dug deep and found a smile to offer him then. An ally. Alright. “But I… I still can’t… don’t feel comfortable bringing you back to the new covert location. Not because I don’t trust you, I… I need to find the people who did this. Who are doing this, and I can’t have them follow me back to where the rest of the Mandalorians are because they’re following you.”

He didn’t mean it to be hurtful, just tactical, and even though she was used to feeling the leaden weight of clanlessness in her heart, hearing him say it felt like he had hefted more weight into it. “It’s fine, Mando. I’m… I can find a place or I can go back to-”

“No.” He cut her off and reached one hand out, placing it lightly on her shoulder, the cup of his palm covering the whole cap of her sleeve, thumb ranging towards her collarbone. Though it was a completely innocent touch, it immediately acted as a ballast for the weight of his previous words.”I do need to go… to get back there right away to… to check on things and discuss all of this with some of the others but I’m not just going to leave you unprotected either. Not until all of this is… done.”

He wants to protect me? But… why?

Ruusaanyc. Trust him.

From her peripherals she could tell that the stone in the center of her pendant was shimmering again. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

He shocked her when he pressed his thumb and then the rest of his fingers gently into her flesh, just enough to dimple the fabric of her shirt. “Yes, I do. I am the Mand’alor, and it’s my responsibility to… to make sure that no one in my own covert is a part of this. And to… to keep all Mandalorians safe.”

But I’m not… It occurred to her suddenly that maybe, to him, she was.

This is the Way.

“Alright.” She nodded, focusing on keeping her throat from choking around her words as she spoke them. “Then where will I… I don’t know anyone here, on Nevarro. Firo isn’t anywhere close, so I-”

“I have an idea,” he tilted his head and from the angle alone she could tell that it wasn’t going to be her first choice. “Remember my friend, Marshal Dune?”

The smirking face of the woman who had originally identified Navina as a thief and an imposter came to mind and she groaned. “I do... she didn't like me very much if you recall though, so I'm not too sure she's going to be thrilled about this.” I'm not thrilled about it but... he's got a point. I'll put his whole Tribe at risk if I go with him right now.

He actually laughed, another shock from the man encased in thick beskar. “Cara's not as tough as she wants you to think she is. She's... she's a good friend. She'll give you a place to stay and make sure you're... safe.”

There were about a million retorts she would have lobbed if it were anyone but him. I can keep myself safe. She's not a better fighter than me. I don't need a kriffing babysitter. But instead she bit the inside of her lip and slapped the smile she'd just pulled out back on. “Alright, Mando... call the Marshal.”

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det-loki · 4 years ago

Text

poison & wine part two

“I don’t have a choice, but I’d still choose you.”

warnings: angst, cursing, slight smut, talk of death/kidnapping

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,213

A/N: feedback is welcomed, enjoy!

1 ⌽ 3 4 5 6

You and Loki arrived at the aunt’s house later that night. You followed Loki through the hall as he spoke to Holly Jones about Alex. You observed her simple home trying to find any lead as she watched Loki look through Alex’s room, taking interest in a toy RV. Walking into her home was like walking into a time capsule, everything seemed old and outdated. So far, you had nothing, not a single thing.

Opening the passenger car door of the old Crown Vic, you huffed as you sat down in the seat, hand coming up to your face trying to wipe away the exhaustion. Beside you, Loki sat still, watching you as your mind run rampant. He wished more than anything that he could take away your grievances. He hated what this town did to you, what this case was doing to you. You deserved better than this. Better than this town and better than him.

“Let’s go home, get some rest, visit the parents in the morning. We can’t solve a case when both of us can barely stand, let alone think. I have a feeling this case is going to be tough.” You didn’t have the energy to respond, only nodding as Loki put the car in reverse and changing gears into drive, pulling onto the road towards your shared home. His hand found yours, intertwining on top of your thigh, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. You wished this was easy, going to work and being able to leave it at the door. Your life with Loki was complicated, some days you were madly in love, others you were just coworkers. You hoped tonight you were in love, you didn’t think you could keep your head above the rising water of emotions if you weren’t.

The warm water cascaded over your back, unthawing your chilled bones as you heard the shower curtain open. Loki’s calloused hand finding its place on your hip, pulling you against his chest. His head dropped to the crook of your neck, lips moving along your shoulder as his fingers wandered from your hip to the space between your legs, murmuring in your ear, “Hey baby.” The soft circles he made sent pleasure through your body, softly whimpering as you leaned further back into his embrace and melted. You needed this. Needed the feeling of comfort and pleasure even if it was just 5 minutes out of the 24 hours in a day. Loki was more than happy to give it to you without the expectation of receiving it. He knew you needed this, needed to feel the overwhelming feeling of his hands, his scent, him. Tonight you were in love, managing to keep each other from crumbling apart and running down the drain.

Neither you nor David slept well that night. Beside you, David tossed and turned and you couldn’t get your brain to turn off. Two little girls were out there missing and you were trying to sleep in a warm bed next to someone you loved. It wasn’t fair. You counted the days it had been since it happened. You lost count after 2,500, the years and days blurring together.

Morning came faster than you liked. The clock read 6:14 A.M., mocking you. You could hear the shower running, you were sure David had been awake much longer than you, he rarely slept through the night. You knew he didn’t need to shower, thoughts of the previous night floated through your head. He was only doing it to wake up and mentally prepare himself for the day. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, standing and making your way to the kitchen. You needed coffee.

Sitting on the couch in the living room with your mug in hand, fingers gripping the handle much harder than you needed, knuckles flexing white. You watched the news display information about the case of the two missing girls with bleary eyes. You had written the media release last night which was now being played all across the state. David emerged from your shared bedroom, kissing the top of your head as he walked past you. He had on fresh clothes, his blue button-up fastened up to his neck like normal, his dark circles more pronounced, eyes already tired. You, on the other hand, opted for something more comfortable, not having the capacity to care about your appearance as much as you normally would, a basic sweater and slacks, face void of any makeup, only leftover mascara the shower didn’t wash away. This case had your full attention.

"This morning we'll go by the parents. I can do the talking. You can stay in the car if you need to." David looked at you softly as he sat next to you on the sofa, bringing your sock clad feet to his lap, fingers working the tender muscle. Cases with children were always the worst, tension findings its way into every muscle in your body. Especially with your background. David didn't want to see you spiral, he would do anything to save you even if it meant jeopardizing himself in the process. He had done it before and he would do it again. You were his person, the only one in his life that knew enough to be considered more than acquaintances. You knew his coffee order by heart, how he hated nutmeg, refused to wear gloves even when the weather permitted them. It gave him the excuse to shove his ice-cold hand against your neck just to hear you laugh. You also knew the deep dark depths of what made him who he was. The boys home, the priests, the lack of familial support, the illegal activities he used to take part in. You were literally and figuratively his everything. It was always you and Loki against everything.

"No, I'm fine. I'll be okay, Loke." Loke. The nickname you gave him at the delicate age of 14 when you met him. It wasn't special by any means, anyone could have come up with it themselves, but when it came out of your mouth, it meant everything to David.

"Okay, but if you need a break, you have to tell me, baby." Your heart physically aches at Loki's words. He would save you from any cliff even if he was tumbling over with you.

You look up from your mug at him with a soft smile on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Same goes for you."

Loki pulled up to the Birch's home as you take a deep breath, attempting to calm yourself. Your stomach was clenching in pain, a knot in your throat, choking you. At least it wasn’t raining today.

"Y/N, you can stay in the car if you need to." David was worried about you. He knew you like the back of his hand. Hell, you were literally tattooed on the back of his hand. Your zodiac symbol etching itself on his ring finger knuckle so many years ago, his version of committing himself to you. A month after the funeral.

"I'm fine, David." He nodded, wanting to believe you as you both exited the car, walking towards the Birch family's front door. Each step taking entirely too much energy.

After three quick knocks, Franklin Birch pulled open the door, his bloodshot eyes meeting David's then yours. David knew that feeling. Helplessness.

You walked into the home after David. Walking around the corner of the entryway you were met with a sight that tore your heart in two. Nancy Birch sat at the dinner table surrounded by half-eaten Thanksgiving food from the night before, numb. You knew that feeling. Although your little girl didn't go missing. She didn't even have a chance at a decent childhood, let alone a decent life. That was torn away too soon.

You quietly excused yourself, darting out the door and towards the car, avoiding Loki's concerned gaze. Your hands trembled, you were never able to get rid of the feeling of her body in your arms on that fateful day. You hated the universe, angry at the world for what it had done to you, what it had done to David. You shouldn’t have even gotten out of bed this morning.

Minutes later, Loki returns to the car with pictures of Joy Birch in hand. "Hey, you okay? You practically ran out of there."

"I just-, I fucking hate cases with kids. I know it's not that case, but that doesn't make it any easier."

It’s not that case. It’s not that case. It’s not that case.

"I know." That's all he could say. He knew. He knew what you were feeling, all too well, the indescribable pain nipping at your heels, slowly making its way up your body and consuming you whole. It was only day two.

The next stop was Dover's. To say you were dreading it was an understatement. Loki put the car in park and turned to face you, his brows furrowed in concern, regret swimming in his eyes.

“You ready?” You knew Loki was giving you a way out, he was more than okay with going in alone.

“Yes, I’m ready.” No, you weren’t. You were going anyway. You had to in order to restore some sort of justice for your little girl.

It’s not that case.

You sat next to Loki, who was next to Grace Dover on the sofa with a blanket sprawling across her lap. You were sure it belonged to Anna judging by the color and the pattern. That poor woman.

“So, did we pass?” It was clear to you from Grace’s voice and the dark circles under her eyes that she hadn’t slept at all.

You gently nudged Loki, who had been on his phone answering emails, “I’m sorry, what did you say?

Grace croaked, “The poly thing. The lie detector we took this morning, did we pass?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Loki responded before looking back down at his phone and sliding it into his coat pocket, “Yes, we appreciate your cooperation.”

Grace speaks again, “It’s embarrassing, all this-all this fuss. Everyone’s gonna think we’re crazy when those two come out of hiding, wherever they are.”

“Do you have some reason to believe they ran away?” Loki asks. In a perfect world, these girls wouldn’t even be missing, but in an ideal world, they did just run away. The sting in your gut said otherwise.

“No. They’re happy. They must have run away. I think they must have run away. Right?” She wasn’t trying to convince you or Loki, she was trying to convince herself.

Loki tries to show a comforting smile but the words won’t come out, he can only nod.

Grace changes the subject, trying to smile although the only thing it reached was her mouth, “Um, your police captain told me that you two have solved every case that you’ve ever been assigned. Is that right?” There was never a time Captain O’Malley didn’t brag about the two of you. You just wished he didn’t do it now, not with this case. It gave too much hope to the parents. Too much pressure that you were sure you or Loki would eventually collapse from. Again, neither you nor Loki could find the words.

Grace begins to get emotional again, hand clutching her mouth, you couldn’t blame her. However, what she spoke next ripped apart your soul that had just begun to get stitched back together by the calloused hands of David, “Do either of you have children, detectives?” You’re back straightened and your mouth fills with the rancid taste of bile. Suddenly you’re nineteen again, in pain and scared, tears streaming down your face, hands raw from scrubbing off the blood that never seemed to go down the drain, bleach stinging your nose. Like so many years ago, David is next to you, except this time he isn’t in a hospital chair with his head in his hands finding out his daughter had been pronounced dead at the age of two. No, this time he was a detective trying to comfort this poor woman about her own daughter. You shoved your trembling hands in your coat pocket, although Loki already took notice. He didn’t even have to look at you to know, you and Loki were connected on a much deeper level.

It's not that case.

Loki speaking brings you out of your toxic minefield of thoughts, “We’re going to find your daughter, Mrs. Dover.” Pausing, he speaks again, shoving his own emotions down, “We believe that they came back here after they left you at the Birch’s yesterday.”

Keller Dover appears from the hall with bloodshot eyes, “They were looking for Anna’s red whistle.” You shakily stand alongside Loki, your body swaying as he shakes his hand, “Right. I read your statement. I’m Detective Loki, this is Detective Y/L/N. We’re heading up the investigation into your daughter’s investigation. Please, sit down.”

Keller disregarded Loki, choking out words to the best of his ability, “Uh, uh, m-my son already told you th-that the guy was inside the RV just watchin’ em’, right?”

You speak up from behind Loki, finally finding your voice, “We haven’t found any physical evidence inside the RV. Or his aunt's house where he lives.”

Keller looks at you as disbelief paints over his features, “Nothing?”

“Alex Jones, unfortunately, has an I.Q. of a ten-year-old. There is no way someone with the I.Q of a ten-year-old could abduct two girls in broad daylight and then somehow make them disappear.” You were able to confirm your suspicions about Alex’s cognitive ability early this morning after a briefing with a forensic psychologist.

“Uh. well. How can he drive an RV? If he can’t answer a question?” Being honest, it didn’t make much sense to you either, it was a fair question.

Loki speaks up in front of you, “Well, he has a legal Pennsylvania license.”

Keller pushed, “And he ran, right? They said he tried to run away. Why would he do that? Why would he run?”

Loki speaks before you, “We’ve just spent ten hours questioning this boy. Okay? I hear what you're saying.”

Keller speaks in disbelief again, this was overwhelming, “Uh, did- did you give him a lie detector? You gave us a lie detector. Did you give him one?”

“Sir, I understand what you’re asking me, yes we did. We gave him a lie detector and there's no way of-” Loki cuts short, stifling a laugh and scoffing. Not at Mr. Dover or the case, but at the number of unanswered questions we had, “A lie detector doesn’t work if you don’t understand the questions.”

Mr. Dover’s face changes, angry, “Well, maybe he wasn’t on his own. How could he drive an RV with the IQ of a ten-year-old?”

You speak with a softer tone attempting to de-escalate the situation, “Hey, we’re considering all possibilities.” You were, everything mattered. Everything.

Keller shakes his head, “I don’t think you are considering all possibilities.”

Using a sharper tone, you tell Mr. Dover as he interrupts you, “I-I hear what you're saying. Sir- Sir-”

“You listen to me! Just shut the fuck up for a fucking second!” Keller booms as his wife flinched on the couch beside his standing form. You take a step back as Loki positions himself in front of you, throwing his hands in front of him in a calming gesture, Loki speaking, “This is what I’m gonna need you to do for me. I need you to calm down.” You hated yelling, you despised it. Although you understood Keller and had no animosity for him, he was living in hell and you had no room to judge. You had been there.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please listen to me for a second.” Keller was pleading and he didn’t need to. You would sit with and listen for hours if you could. But you couldn’t, you had to find his daughter. You had to fix this.

“Mr. Dover, I understand this is an incredibly hard time.” Loki did know that, better than anyone. “But I have every uniformed police officer in this state looking for Anna.”

From behind Loki, you can see Keller’s face break, “I don’t understand what any of this means. They said he ran. They said he tried to get away. I don’t understand why he would try to run away.”

“We’re considering all possibilities, Mr. Dover. I hear what you’re saying. We’re not crossing anybody off our list. Just, let us do our job.”

Walking out of the Dover’s felt like you were trudging through molasses, you hated this case and it was only day two. You sat in the passenger seat as David put the keys in the ignition, Keller Dover running out of the house made him pause.

“Hey! Detectives!”

Both you and David mutter “oh shit” under your breath as Loki rolls the window down to speak to Mr. Dover.

Keller approaches, eyes darting between you and Loki wildly, “Hey! He stays in custody until my daughter is found, right? Right?”

Loki shakes his head, not wanting to upset Keller any more than he was already, “We have a 48-hour hold on him that ends tomorrow unless we bring charges.”

“Well, charge him with something. Charge him.” It wasn’t that easy, you wished it was.

Loki protests, “Mr. Dover, I understand-”

Keller interrupts, “Detective, detectives, two little girls have gotta be worth whatever little rule you have to break to keep that asshole in custody. Now, I know you can’t promise me anything, I understand that, but I’m asking you to be sure. Be 100% sure. Thank you. I appreciate it.” and with that, he walked away back into the house.

Loki sat idle as you turned to him, “We have to at least try. If we- I would have wanted to someone to at least try when-”

Loki snaps at you, stopping you, “No. No, this isn’t that case and you can’t think that. We will do our best, but I can’t have you going down that road.”

“I know it isn’t that case, David. But we can’t pretend that it isn’t similar. Ours was attempted kidnapping, she-” You’re chest stung as you tried to get out the words, lungs on fire and brain pounding. You were too close.

“Y/N, saving these little girls won’t bring ours back.” Loki's voice cracked on emotion. You knew that. God, you knew that. A freak incident, a failed abduction. The smell of antiseptic burning your nose, David’s hand clutched tightly in yours as the doctor left the room after telling you your little girl didn’t make it. A suspect was never found. You had only gone inside for a second.

Neither you nor David spoke for the entire ride back to the station. There wasn’t anything to say, it all had been said before in the late hours of the night, everytime one of you woke up with a nightmare, whispering words to each other, too afraid to say them too loud, staring at the ceiling. You were living in a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

taglist: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee

#detective loki #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #detective loki fanfic #detective loki fanfiction #prisoners #prisoners 2013 #jake gyllenhaal #hugh jackman #keller dover #poison and wine #fanfiction

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starryevermore · 4 years ago

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icymi: colby’s tattoos and meanings (and some bonus stuff)

In case you missed the Stereo show and just want a run down or couldn’t download the app, here’s the breakdown:

Swallow: This bird is known to find always its way back to its nest if it ever leaves. Was going to a simple bird, but was convinced to a swallow by the tattoo artist. Least confident about this tattoo because he realized afterwards that Shawn Mendes had a swallow on his right hand. One of his favorite tattoos. “I love my little birdie, man.”

Crown: Second tattoo he got. Just Kingdom Hearts, a necklace that Sora wears. He explained a lot about the game, but he spoke too fast for me to type lmao. Overall, he related to fighting the light and the darkness like in the game. The game inspired him to think differently.

Dead Sunflower: Sunflower is the Kansas flower, it’s “a wilted part of [his] past”. Got a matching tattoo with Nate. Was supposed to get it together after Hawaii. Colby got it a week afterwards, but Nate didn’t do it until the Oregon trip. Sam said something about it being symbolic of having the same roots and even if you leave, you’re still the same little flower (I think he said that’s how Nate felt? He spoke too fast lmao). It’s the tattoo Colby forgets he has the most.

Moon and Wolf: Wolf is apparently actually a coyote. Wolves actually have their tails down when howling at the moon, learned this at the wolf sanctuary with Elton. Symbolizes a lone wolf at the moon (nice Colby) and being independent. Constantly felt like he was relying on others, and got the tattoo to remind himself to be his own person. On the lower end of his favorite list. Perhaps the most recognizable.

Simple Pickup Heart: Two meanings: “Protect your heart” and Simple Pickup. Learned confidence through Simple Pickup. Doesn’t think the keyhole is Kingdom Hearts, more of a guarding his heart.

Bleeding Rose: Didn’t expect it to be it that big. Symbolizes getting over an emotional time in your life. The tattoo that people like the most.

XPLR Logo: Of course, the logo of their brand. His first tattoo, got it around 2017. Doesn’t think he’s going to do anymore on his back.

Water Droplet and Ripple: Live in the moment, something that Nate always talked about. Sam said it was really last minute, but he really likes it because of the meaning and the depth of it. Represents 25x25 and all of their high school friendships. Sam said it took some getting used to, but now he really likes it.

Two Skulls: Two skulls represent him and Sam. Through life and death, Sam will always be by his side and will have the same sort of outlook on life. Best friends in life and death.

Sacred Heart: (not a full sacred heart) Scythe is a symbol of what death holds, kind of like memento mori, remember that you’ll always going to do. When he dies, he’s going to be holding onto the love of his creator. Holding onto the love of the high power he believes in. The chain does have a Kingdom Hearts symbol on the end, and he put it there before it was all of the Kingdom Hearts symbols in one.

Shatter: Joked that it was the shattered hoodie. Two meanings: represents the abandoned locations they explored, and if you get pushed, you can be cracked but never be broken. He can be knocked down, but he can never be broken. “The next time we’re on the road, I want you to SHOVE ME TO THE FLOOR.”

25: Done by Sam, of course, and he did one on Sam’s leg, and represented 25x25. Colby’s is healing strange and has some white blotches, but he loves how raw it looked.

Sam likes how Colby’s tattoos all of meanings and tell a story. Colby’s going back to get two more tattoos, and is going to put some clouds below the Sacred Heart and it going to get an hourglass to represent “now or never”.

They also mentioned doing a live tour once COVID’s over.

From a fan question:

One tattoo he would get rid of if he had to: the wolf because it’s actually a coyote.

His favorite would be the two skulls tattoo (it had also been worked on for 6 months before he eventually got it).

From a fan question: where they see themselves in 3 years:

Colby: Still doing YouTube, but on a crazier level. Getting more into the business side of life. Maybe going into real estate or property owning. Knows they won't be leaving social media.

Sam: Knows they’ll be challenging themselves, traveling the world, and trying to inspire people.

From a fan question: will you make a video game/mobile game:

Sam says they haven’t solidified anything, but it’s something they’ve talked about. Colby says it’s going to happen, and he’s manifesting it, and that they’ll figure things out once COVID is over.

From a fan question: why did he get tattoos

Grew up around the emo scene/Warped tour because of his brother, so he always like it on other people.

Also a “YOLO” thing.

They all have meaning, and he wants them to be a storybook of his life on his body.

#sam and colby #colby brock #snc #xplr #traphouse #traphouse 2.0 #trap house #trap house 2.0 #starrybrock

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

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Spring(ish) Cleaning -- Jalice Secret Santa 2020

@jalicenetwork

Pairing: Jasper/Alice

Summary: It’s that time of the year again, and Jasper doesn’t take it quite as seriously as Alice would like. Fluff! Domestic life!

Disclaimer: I’m not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable.

Word count: 1280

Warnings: None

A/n HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! And happy Secret Santa, @alice-cullen-is-an-angel :) I hope you like it <3

“Jasper Whitlock Hale, you get back here right now!”

Jasper squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before setting his book down on the table. From in front of the TV, Emmett chortles. “Busted.”

With quick movement, Jasper pushes his brother’s head to the floor, then darts up the stairs, dodging Emmett’s retaliatory shove with a full second to spare.

Feeling Alice’s frustration, Jasper puts on what he hopes is a charming smile and hurries up the stairs to their room. “Yes, my love?”

Alice rolls her eyes at her husband’s faked innocence. “You said you were just getting a book.”

The edges of Jasper’s lips twitch. “And I did.”

“You’ve been gone forty-five minutes!”

Jasper rubs the back of his neck with a scarred hand, sheepish. “Well, then I settled down with the book and it got really good, so—”

Alice skips forward and jumps to place a kiss on his nose. “The book will still be here when we’re done.”

Jasper sighs, wanting to put up just a little more of a fight, even though he knows he’s already lost. “The closet will still be here when the book’s done, so…” He trails off under his wife’s death glare.

“You promised we would do this last April. It’s now January first. You know how the humans say—‘new year, new me’, well I say, ‘new year, new clothes’, and new clothes need space so we have to get rid of old clothes. Now sit.” With a measure of strength incongruent for her size, Alice shoves Jasper onto the bed, where he obedient sits with a resigned chuckle. It’s true. He had been putting this off for over nine months. He just hates going through their entire wardrobe—an achingly tedious task that takes hours due to his wife’s love for fashion. Back in the mid-1900s, they only had to do this once every five years or so—clothes weren’t produced as quickly, then, so it really slowed Alice down. Now, she has no limits, and it definitely shows in the size of a walk-in-closet that’s bigger than their actual bedroom, and three storage units scattered across the United States’ northern boarder. So now, Jasper’s least favorite chore occurs at least every eighteen months.

Wonderful.

Alice disappears in the closet and returns within a millisecond, clutching a thick grey button up from Jasper’s section, holding it up for him to see.

“Keep.”

Alice scoffs and quirks an eyebrow, raising the button-up into the light as if that would help Jasper see it through her eyes. “It’s six years old, Jazz.”

Jasper bites back a smile. The shirt is in excellent condition, but the disdain emanating from Alice when she declared the shirt’s age means it clearly has to go. Jasper shrugs, unaffected by parting with the shirt. “Donate, then.”

His wife smiles approvingly, tosses it into a pile, and returns with a nearly identical shirt in deep blue. Though, since this one is only from November, he’s allowed to keep it.

They continue like this for hours, the ‘donate’ pile growing ever larger due to Alice’s strict criteria for keeping an item in their rotation. While Jasper doesn’t enjoy this task, he basks in the one-on-one time with Alice, and mentally chides himself for putting this off for so long. It’s nice, being in their shared space, acting as a husband and wife would. Cleaning out a closet feels very normal, almost human.

He notices Alice taking longer than usual to return with the next item of clothing, and pushes off the bed to investigate. Her emotions hint at amusement, and he’s definitely intrigued. She hears—and mentally sees—him coming, and quickly hides something behind her back, moving to toss it in to the depths of the closet. He’s faster than her though, and locks a hand around her wrist, halting her movement.

“What have you got there?”

Alice gives him his second death glare of the day, though the amusement hasn’t faded. “Nothing. It’s none of your business.”

Jasper raises an eyebrow, slowly snaking his other arm around her back to pull her against him, taking her other wrist in his free hand. He pauses momentarily to enjoy her sharp intake of breath, then continues in his scrutiny. “If it’s in my closet, I’m pretty sure it’s my business.”

“Well, this specific thing isn’t,” Alice shoots back, quite obviously fighting a smile.

He acts on instinct alone, not even giving her second-sight warning before he switches his grip of her wrists to one hand and squeezes lightly, forcing her to drop the object into his free—and waiting—hand. She lunges forward, intending to steal the object back and make a run for it, but Jasper uses his grip to keep her steady, holding the object high out of her reach for both of them to see.

And he dissolves into laughter.

Alice takes advantage of his distraction and extracts herself from his loosened grip, snatching the gaudy hat and holding it in her crossed arms.

“Wha-what is that thing,” Jasper sputters, reaching for the hat. Alice takes a step back, shaking her head resolutely. “No, c’mon, please,” he chortles, raising his hands in mock-surrender. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

Despite her expression that clearly says she doesn’t believe him, Alice hands back the hat, biting her lip against embarrassed laughter of her own.

Jasper straightens, examining the hat with forced seriousness. “It’s interesting.”

“I got it in Milan,” Alice defends, despite knowing that it won’t help her case against Jasper. Rosalie, maybe, but not her fashion-safe husband. “It’s couture, actually.” At his stuttering laugh of disbelief, Alice nearly stamps her foot. “You just wouldn’t get it!”

“You’re right,” Jasper grins, radiating pure mischief. “I don’t get it. I think it might help if I could see it on.”

“Ohhhh no,” Alice warns, taking a step back. “I’m not giving you any more ammo.”

“Alice,” he coaxes, grinning wickedly. “I’m just a student of fashion trying to better understand the trends of the time. An expert such as yourself wouldn’t deprive me of that, right?”

She knows she won’t win if she’s trapped like this. He’s already got the plan worked out in his mind—back her into a corner and simply take the hat, putting it on her head. So, she tries for her only other option.

She makes a run for it.

Her visions allow her to dodge the arm he throws out in an attempt to stop her, and she makes it into the bedroom. But then he switches to acting on instinct, and it’s all over.

They end up tangled on the bed, laughing wildly as he wrestles the hat from her grip. All too soon he’s won, and he places a soft kiss on her lips before settling the hat firmly on her head, much to her obvious annoyance.

He fights hard to not laugh, but it’s a losing battle.

The hat is somehow as large as a five-tiered cake, which looks absolutely comical on Alice’s four-foot-eleven frame. The extra-wide brim extends way past Alice’s shoulders, plunging the majority of her face into darkness. The hat is a fierce lime green, with bells made of ribbon zig-zagging up to the very top of the hat, upon which, sits an intricate design reminiscent of a bird’s nest.

“You’re beautiful,” he tries, his voice wavering with barely-restrained laughter.

“Donate,” she says firmly, gritting her teeth.

Jasper shakes his head, grinning as he tilts the brim back to see Alice’s less-than amused expression. He fully loses it then, burying his head in the crook of her neck as he shakes with laughter. “Keep.”

A/n Once again, Happy New Year everyone! My requests are open so send me a message if there’s anything you’d like for me to write :) And if you have a moment, it would mean the world to me if you checked out my masterlist! You are all loved, you are strong, and I’m here if you need me <3.

#jalicesecretsanta20 #jalicenetwork #jalice #jalice network #jalice 2020 #alice cullen #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper whitlock hale #alice x jasper #jasper x alice #twilight #jalice fluff #jalice domestic life #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight gapfiller #jalice fanfiction

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atiny-piratequeen · 4 years ago

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Against the Tide: Tenth Voyage (Ch. 10)

Pairing : Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Action, Fantasy, Smut, Fluff

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death, Slow Burn, Happy Ending Endgame

Chapter Specific Tags: Repeated Main Character Death, Reincarnation, Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Graphic Blood and Violence, Brief Mentions of Mental Health Concerns

Chapter WC: 10k+

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag.

**A/N: Thank you Riza @not-majestic-bluenicorn for helping me out with the tarot card readings, ilysm

Taglist moved to the bottom of the work. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post. AO3

Taglist

← Last Voyage Next Voyage →

The sound of Seonghwa’s screams from that night still haunts the crew.

They’re fortunate, Yunho thinks.

Though, he’d never say it aloud and Geb is kind enough not to call him out on the bitter, spiteful thoughts when they arise.

Anyway, the crew was fortunate.

Most of them are lucky that all they heard was the screams of their First Mate- no -their new Captain. The crewmembers below the deck and the ones unconscious didn’t have to deal with the sight of their captain, the one who held them all together, breaking down.

The fear on his face. The defeat. The pain. The terrified, yet resolute tone in his voice.

All that haunted them was the screams of the ex prince, which, coupled by an explosion of ice, creating a fortress of frost around them, was a beacon in the night for what had happened.

Yunho had to drag him out of the ocean. Nearly got stabbed doing so. It took an hour of Seonghwa diving into the depths, freezing everything around him and reaching fruitlessly before Yunho snatched him back to the surface.

He’d nearly been frozen and stabbed for his efforts and the crew watched on as Yunho pinned Seonghwa to the deck, thick vines keeping him still as he screamed and thrashed.

Just behind him, Mingi stood back with an unconscious San in his arms. Wooyoung was at his side, eyes wide as tears rolled down his cheeks while Yeosang leaned over the taffrail, emptying the contents of the dinner he’d worked hard to make into the ocean. Jongho still lay unconscious under the broken planks of wood in the hold, sea water soaking his clothes and Whiro noticeably absent from his skin for once.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG!” Seonghwa screamed, his voice raw and cracking as he thrashed in Yunho’s arms.

None of them had ever seen the level headed ex prince fall apart like this. He bore his teeth at him, trying to wrestle his way free, freezing parts of his body to try and get Yunho to let him go. The sight of the raven-haired immortal coming apart at the seams broke everyone’s heart and Geb gently whispered into Yunho’s ear so he could settle Seonghwa down the hard way.

They weren’t getting anywhere like this.

So Yunho sighed and created a small flower near Seonghwa’s head, tears slipping down his cheeks. Seonghwa looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying.

“H-Hong-”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Small spores wafted out of the flower and slowly Seonghwa’s thrashing slowed down. He felt his body grow heavy as Yunho put his head in his lap, crying quietly as Seonghwa’s pitch black hair slowly went back to it’s natural blonde color.

“N...o...Hongjoong...putois…”

Yunho wished all that haunted him was the screams, and not the guilt of not being strong or fast enough to keep him from disappearing. That Hongjoong’s quivering, terrified voice didn’t knock around his head as much as the anguished howls of Seonghwa.

Unfortunately, that was all it was. Wishful thinking.

-x-

- I finally get what you've been saying

Now that we're knee deep side by side

The storm clouds are circling above us

As we struggle against the tide-

-x-

There are intricacies that come with warfare, the king knew these well.

Though, even he may admit that this was an... unfortunate miscalculation.

Getting to a point in Hongjoong’s mind where he was distracted enough for him to actually affect his powers was leagues more difficult than he’d ever let anyone know. For as much as he antagonized the pirate, the dragon inside would admit he had much more mental fortitude than he originally gave him credit for.

Stupid mortals and their useless sense of ‘love’.

Though, technically, he wasn’t a mortal anymore.

Whatever.

Regardless of what the little captain was classified as, the fight with the one called ‘Priscilla’ had left him in such a panic that the dragon was able to break through, tap into the core of their-no, his -powers, and snatch it from under him while he was fighting for everyone’s lives.

Disgusting.

He figured he’d distract the foolish captain long enough for him to kill him mentally and rid himself of the beast.

Oh, and sink that damned ship and rip it’s crew to pieces. For fun.

He’d never expected a curse to be placed on him because of his intervention. Not only did the she beast strip the captain of all of his knowledge of who he was and his crew, she had inadvertently banished the dragon to the farthest recesses of the captain’s mind.

As the king stood, he couldn’t see light in either direction.

He had to get back to the front so he could take control. He had to break out before the captain remembered and broke the curse. He could handle Pricilla later.

With a scoff, he turned into his dragon form and snorted.

A minor misstep. He could outsmart some stupid immortal wannabes and that grotesque bastard child.

Then, he’d create havoc.

For fun.

And revenge.

But mostly fun.

-x-

-I feel your grip firm on my shoulder,

But this fear in my head won’t subside,

They patiently circle around us,

As we hold out… -

-x-

“Do you see those men there? They hold your entire fate in their hands.”

Hongjoong panted, blood running into his eyes as his hair was pulled back roughly. On the other side of a clear glass bubble, he could see seven men in a room. There was a tall blonde man pacing. Every time his boot touched the floor, it would freeze before the ice melted.

There was a taller man holding onto two smaller men who were crying.

Something was said and the blonde turned suddenly, his body rigid. A buffer man stood between him and the group, reaching for something on his person. The blonde man crossed the room and took his hand, the tips of his fingers frosting around the man’s wrist as he glared at him, saying something.

Hongjoong couldn’t hear a word either of them were saying, nor did he care. He pivoted on his heel, elbowing the monstrous woman behind him in the face before he broke off into a run.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he figured if he ran far enough, screamed loud enough-

Something hard slammed into his back, knocking him forward. He rolled, his clothing soaked by the water as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. When he looked up, a rabid dog was staring him down.

He screamed in terror and backed away, eyes wide.

Who was she? Why was she doing this to him? Where even was he?

Fangs sunk into his thigh before he was dragged back towards the woman, kicking and screaming.

A dark smile came to her face.

“Get real comfortable, little pirate. With how your sorry crew looks, you’ll be stuck here with me forever and ever~ You’re here because of them, at the very least, you should know that they’re the reason you’re here.”

-x-

- Oh, father why have they forsaken me?

You warned me that they would,

The curse is passing down the bloodline,

Misspoken and misunderstood.-

-x-

“Seonghwa, all I’m saying is we can try it out-”

“We’re not calling that woman!”

Jongho pursed his lips, annoyed at the older immortal raising his voice at him, while Wooyoung flinched and whined behind him, sitting with Yeosang in Yunho’s arms as the two of them cried.

“What else are we going to do? How else do we start? We don’t even know what happened to Hongjoong fully or where that witch took him!” the Maori man snapped back.

Seonghwa paced like a caged animal, but eventually scoffed, admitting temporary defeat.

“Fine. Call her.” He hissed. Jongho eyed him for a moment before reaching for the feather dangling from his hip. Whiro curiously shifted along his skin, but Jongho focused on the feather, holding it out in front of him.

“Hyuna!”

Seonghwa and the others stood and waited.

And waited.

And waited….

And...waited….

“Why...isn't she coming?”

Seonghwa’s nostrils flared in anger before he barked out a laugh.

“Oh, look at that. She’s not coming . You wait around for her and we’ll never find Hongjoong. Right now, we can start by finding out who fucking stole that fucking staff.” He hissed.

The temperature in the room drastically lowered as ice cold grey eyes scanned over everyone in the group.

They lingered on some more than others.

“It wasn’t me. Don’t stare at me like that.” Mingi’s voice was hurt as he looked down at the floor. Seonghwa’s jaw ticked.

“I didn’t say it was you.” He stiffly informed him.

“You didn’t have to. I was raised around Bella Rose, I know an accusatory look when I see it. It wasn’t me.” He muttered, his voice quieter. San noticed the clench of his fists and the tears welling up in the boatswain’s eyes and moved to place a hand on his back. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, keeping his eyes on the duo. Yeosang began to hiccup through his sobs in Yunho’s arms, so the man stood, catching Seonghwa’s attention.

“I don’t...think that should be our top priority. Not right now.”

“I disagree. One of you stole the staff, and Hongjoong is gone now. That seems pretty damn important. Which one of you did it?” He spat, malice dripping from his voice. Even Jongho flinched back, his brows pulled together. Whiro shifted along his skin and tutted before lifting upwards.

Jongho moved to reel him in, but he was met with more than the usual amount of resistance and Whiro’s voice in his head.

‘For once, trust me, kid.’

Jongho pursed his lips and let Whiro form into a mirror image of himself aside from the blonde hair, red eyes, and ta moko. He rolled his shoulders and looked at Seonghwa, who looked unimpressed and fed up before anything even left the fragmented god’s mouth.

“If you’re going to talk shit, save-”

“Nah, you’ve said enough the past few days. Shut up and listen for once, prince.”

Seonghwa snarled, but Whiro ignored him, keeping his thick arms crossed as he spoke. Even Jongho looked on curiously as Whiro continued.

“What exactly are you gonna do with that information? Hm? Hurt one of them? Kick them out? Is that what the old captain would have wanted?”

Seonghwa looked taken aback-and he wasn’t the only one.

Seven pairs of eyes watched Whiro in shock.

“Whoever stole it doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is whether you like it or not, you’re the captain now. From what I understand after Jongho and I got knocked the fuck out, you were told to protect this ship and it’s crew. Last time I checked, this temper tantrum you’re throwing isn’t protecting shit, not even yourself.”

“Am I not allowed my hurt? My anger? Hongjoong was...Hongjoong was my first love, he saved my life-”

Whiro rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I’m stuck here in this body for all of eternity and I feel what he feels,” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of a shocked Jongho before he kept talking. “Get your shit together. Stop your sniveling, and start being the leader the shortstack knows you can be. The kid is strong. He may have lost this, but at one point, he had eight spirits inside of him and didn’t fall completely to ruin. Instead of doing the exact opposite of what he said to do and tear this crew apart, wipe your nose, wash your face for fuck’s sake, and go find the shortstack. He needs you, all of you. It’s been a week and we’re still in Greece. I’ll give you a day or so longer to get those tears out before I expect all fucking seven of you to quit bitchin’ and start searchin’. Do I make myself clear?”

Seonghwa blinked before he ran a hand through his hair.

“Gods, is it that bad that the literal God of Evil is trying to help?”

“Yes, actually.” Whiro responded without missing a beat, drawing an involuntary laugh out of some of them.

“I’m stuck to Jongho for all of eternity. I’d rather not to deal with all of these stupid ass gushy ass emotions normally, but since I have no choice now, I’d rather we pull ourselves together. Oh, and when I get my hands on that serpentine bitch, you can all step aside. I’ll take care of her myself.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but turned to the group, sighing as he bowed himself down.

“I...I’m sorry.” There was more sitting on his tongue, but that was all he said for the time being, turning to leave. Once the sound of his boots on the wood retreated down the hall and out of earshot, everyone let out a relieved sigh, turning to look over at Whiro.

“Holy shit. You helped us.” San muttered.

Whiro cocked a brow.

“Helped you? Please. I’m just tired of the back and forth and even ol’ Jongie boy here is getting affected by all this more than I’d like, for us to share a body. I helped myself, nothing more.” It was a lie, and all of them knew that much, but no one called him on it. Before he disappeared into Jongho’s skin, however, he did have something else to add.

“Though, my words will only light the fire under his ass and distract him for so long. You all seem content not knowing who took it, and that’s strange to me, but whatever. I suggest you all find the pipsqueak captain before blondie starts getting in his own head again. I can’t assure you all I can step out of Jongho every time Seonghwa becomes overwhelmed with anguish. I put these emotions in the world, I know their power. You don’t want the ice prince coming after you because most of you won’t be able to stop the rage that kid has inside from this. So find him. And quit feelin’ so damn sorry for yourselves.” With that, Whiro settled back onto the skin of Jongho’s arms.

Everyone glanced at each other before standing to go to their own respective rooms except Yunho, since they had gathered in his room.

As one of them left, his shoulders slumped lower than the others, his heart thundering in his chest.

‘I’m sorry I took it...I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...I didn’t know it would be this way, please forgive me, I just-’

-x-

-We're losing light

And strength of will

The darkened depths beckoning still

And we hold on

Against the tide-

-x-

Dawn pursed his lips.

“The pirates called for you. Should we get going?”

Hyuna lifted her head from the tub of water she was mostly submerged in.

“Can’t. They’re in Greece. If I stepped foot in Greco-Roman territory again, Zeus would surely come down from Olympus himself to strike me down. He’s still bitter I didn’t just accept my role as the harbinger of evil to mankind and then die off like the toy he created me to be. Whatever the boys need me for, I’ll just apologize next time they call on me. I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, the last time they called me, I got my ass kicked. They’ll live if I just take a rain check this once.” Hyuna pouted from the tub before sinking back into the water, her inky hair making the water seem like it was pitch black.

Dawn watched her for a moment before humming and turning to sharpen his sickles.

Maybe she had a point.

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

When Lloyd answered the door that one cold night in January, he wasn’t expecting his son on the other side of the door. His lips parted in surprise.

“Jesus it's cold, Lloyd, why is the door op-YUNHO!”

Yunho laughed through his tears as Robin shot out from behind Lloyd, nearly knocking him down as he hugged him tight. His dreads, though graying, were much longer than the last time Yunho saw him, and he couldn’t help the big smile that crossed his face as the sound of thundering footsteps followed by excited screams pierced through the night air.

The smell of sapodilla and of Barbados lilies flooded his nose with the smell of cerasee clinging to Robin’s clothes.

Before he knew it, he was crying, relieved to see all four of his parents in good health.

Lloyd observed them with a small smile on his face, before he noticed the men standing just off behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Lloyd, one of Yunho’s fathers. My partners will introduce themselves once they’re finished hugging the daylights out of our poor son...though...there seems to be more of you than last time, and I don’t see the captain…?”

Yunho tensed immediately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his parents. Mei pulled away first, noticing the wobble of Yunho’s lip and Valeria cupped his cheeks.

“Ay, lad...what’s wrong baby?”

“I’m...I’m the captain now.” Seonghwa spoke, though he didn’t meet any of their eyes. Robin pulled away, as well, and Yunho sighed, rubbing his arm.

“I...I came home because we need some help.” He murmured.

All four of them exchanged a look before Lloyd stepped aside.

“Come inside from the cold, boys. Mei will brew some tea, and you can explain what happened.”

-20 years Later-

Mingi sat in silence as he sat in a cathedral. He had taken some time away from Yunho’s island to visit another, picking up a few books to read from a shop on curses and the like. Was it the most ideal place to be reading something like this? Most likely not, but he had to do what he needed to.

The crew had stayed near the Caribbean Islands, doing their absolute best to find somewhere, anywhere to start.

It was stifling, with tensions so high. Some members from the original crew had either moved on or passed away trying to help Seonghwa and the others locate Hongjoong, and the blonde captain had been adamant about not bringing new members in.

There...was no love lost between the seven of them, Mingi liked to think, but he’d be lying if he said Seonghha hadn’t put up a wall between all of them and himself. After Whiro put him in his place, he seemed to mask his true anguish and hurt, and they all could tell it was taking a toll on him, though he always put on and front when he was around them.

He was the leader. The captain. He had to keep himself together, lest they all fall apart. Hongjoong trusted him to do this much. To protect them. If that meant suppressing his own emotions for the betterment of the crew, so be it. It wasn’t like it was something he didn’t know how to do already.

He was raised as royalty, next up for the throne and title of a king. Kings couldn’t show any cowardice and weakness. Seonghwa could hide away his emotions well enough.

Though, that was a lie. They could all see it. The chips in his icy exterior. The tremble in his lips when he kissed them. The slight, barely there crack in his voice when he went to reassure them. Seonghwa was falling apart and masking it with layers of ice, but none of them had the heart to call him out.

Not when they were falling apart too.

An air of failure and guilt clung to them and no amount of sweet words from Yunho’s parents could hold it back for too long.

Speaking of parents...

Mingi’s fingers trembled on the page. Right. He had to return to the island soon. Lloyd had passed away of natural causes from his old age and they would be having a celebration of life for him tonight.

The four of them all but put a pause on their work to help out with locating Hongjoong, studying everything from mythology, to curses themselves.

For two decades, they tirelessly helped them, and Mingi was forever grateful. Honestly, it was all four of them that kept the boys from completely losing hope. From the Irish, foul-mouthed tongue lashings they (lovingly) got from Valeria, to Robin taking their mind off of it with teaching them capoeira, to Mei gently telling them Korean folktales over cups of tea when the stress was too high, and finally, old Lloyd teaching all of them the way of herbal medicine and always lending an ear when they needed to vent.

The four of them had all but become the in-laws to the group, and Mingi was forever grateful.

“You look troubled.”

Mingi jolted, closing his book as a nun walked up to him. Mingi scooted over as she sat beside him, placing her hands on her lap as she looked forward past the pews to stare at the beautiful organ at the forefront of the hall.

He subtly hid the book behind his thigh, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere quiet to read and-”

“You’ve been staring at that page for half an hour. Either that passage is really good, or you’re troubled.” She laughed lightly. Mingi stared at the side of her face. His brow furrowed.

Why did she seem so familiar…?

“Would you like someone to lend an ear? We have a confessional, or I could just listen.” She offered, kind brown eyes staring into his own. He lowered his gaze to his hands and sighed.

“I’m just...looking for someone close to me. They were taken away and I don’t know if I can find them or where to start.” he muttered. The nun tilted her head before crossing her feet at the ankle, sitting up straighter.

Mingi expected her to mention God, they were in a place of worship, after all.

“I think you should take time to clear your heart and your mind. You’re very troubled and you won’t be able to focus on your objective when you are so conflicted. Life...throws lots of hurdles at you. Take time to catch your breath and don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can be surprised how asking different people for advice will steer you in the right direction. Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at it from a different angle. Remember that, and I hope you find your friend.” She smiled and stood up, waving to Mingi as she turned to leave.

“Wait!”

She paused.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry if this is...a weird question, but what is your name, Sister?” He inquired. She blinked in surprise before sending him a kind name.

“Mine? My name is Sister Gracie.”

-x-

Seonghwa stood in front of a mirror, looking at his reflection. His jaw was clenched tight as he wiped his eyes. He had to pull himself together. Two decades and they haven’t found him yet.

He looked into his own grey eyes, his voice tense.

“I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll find you, mon petit putois.” he muttered, adjusting the buttons to his shirt.

What he couldn’t tell, in a plane beyond the one he was standing in, was Hongjoong was looking back at him.

Panicked fists slammed against the invisible aquatic wall that separated the two of them.

“Hey! Hey!! I’m screaming at you, please!” Hongjoong looked behind him, finding something slithering in the depths of water behind him. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he screamed louder, his voice getting raw as he reached desperately for the vision of the blonde man. He pressed his palm to the man’s image, tears in his eyes.

“ Please! I’m screaming, I’m begging! Why, why can’t you hear me?! Help me!”

A thick tentacle wrapped around his waist, pulling him roughly. Hongjoong scrambled, pressing both hands to the barrier. A laugh echoed from behind him before he was snatched back, away from the image of the blonde man.

In the guest room, Seonghwa placed a palm on the cool mirror, eyes downcast.

“I’ll find you. No matter how far you are, Hongjoong.”

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

He can feel it. Every time he dies. Every time he’s reborn and has a different name.

~1668, the first death after the curse was placed on him, he’s trampled by a horse.

1690, he can feel his throat closing after a fatal allergic reaction.

1712, an accident while trying to help create the first working steam engine.~

Hongjoong feels it all. It doesn’t help, the she-beast likes to toy with him. Sometimes she lets him roam free, in the vast expanse of...wherever he was trapped in. He had no concept of the passage of time anymore while he was in here. Everything felt...stalled and floaty. The woman told him he had been there for almost a century, in her clutches, but he paid it no mind.

That was absurd.

~1734, flash, then it’s gone with a lightning strike.

1756, huddled up for warmth, only to die by the morning from exposure getting lost in the mountains.

1778, blood loss from a carpenter accident. He was a careless man in this particular life.~

Sometimes she leaves him alone. For very long periods of time. He doesn’t know if he prefers that or not. On one hand, her torture was agonizing, between the way she’d wound him, leaving him on the brink of what surely should have been death, but unlike his selves on the outside, he couldn’t die in here.

No, he had to slowly power through the pain, slowly heal in this god forsaken place, and then she’d come back, and start all over.

He envied the other ‘hims’ on the outside. They got to live lives, all of which unfulfilling and mostly in poverty, but they still got to live them, and then they all died on November 7th, only for the piece of his soul to be cast away to another part of the world, into a newborn and reborn once again.

Then the cycle continued. He watched it all from this space. His lives, his deaths, over and over again.

The woman never called him anything other than cruel names and ‘Captain’, though he had no idea of what anymore.

Hell, he was pretty sure he’d forgotten his own name while trapped in here.

~1800, a casualty in the Quasi War.

1822, a fall from a moving locomotive.

1844, a fatal encounter with a wild boar.

1866, a mine shaft collapse.~

When he’s alone for decades at a time, he feels a bit of his sanity slip. Like he’ll never get out of this place. Like he’ll be here for all of eternity. Sometimes, he lays on his back, with his eyes closed for as long as he can, and waits.

Nothing ever happens, but sometimes it's easier to just...exist. Rest his eyes and his tired body. He hasn’t given up. Not yet, anyway, but sometimes it's better for him to just... be.

He’ll never admit to that woman that sometimes he looks forward to her arrival when she comes back from leaving him for so long, just because her presence grounds him into reality.

Or, rather, whatever hellish reality he’s found himself in at her hands.

At her hands, and as he looks out at the bubble she forces him to look at, finding those same seven men. Or, rather, two of them, this time.

They’re in Paris, the one with the dimples has an arm around the other one’s waist, muttering something into his ear. He nudges him before a tender smile comes to his lips and the two share a kiss before disappearing into a hotel room.

The brunette looked away, not sure why he was made to follow these people along though his time here. She always sneered in his ear that they were to blame, that they were the key to getting him out, that they were all happier without him and had forgotten him at this point.

She never showed him the seven of them tirelessly searching for him. He didn’t even know how hard they were working. She carefully picked out the rare moments they took time to themselves to catch their breaths and try and stabilize themselves, painting them as people who didn’t have any sense of urgency or care in the world.

The cook who made large meals with a big smile on his face. The inseparable duo, always attached at the hip, in each other’s space, bringing love and comfort to one another. The tall man with his nose in the books, glasses perched on his nose as he spent days engrossed in his books. The other tall one, filling out his notebooks with whatever hasty, nearly illegible sprawlings came to him as he sat amongst plants. The rugged one with the curious markings on his arms and legs that sometimes shifted and formed some dark being. Hongjoong would be surprised, but he had an aquatic beast breathing down his neck with tentacles for legs and rabid dog heads extending from her waist, so he would be lying if he said he was truly surprised.

The only one that never looked like he was relaxed was the blonde. Pricilla didn’t show him for long, but whenever he was in the background of those visions she’d hand picked for him, he looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. An air of guilt and anguish always settled underneath whatever expression he happened to have on his face, and it always made Hongjoong tilt his head and gave him a small flicker of hope.

~1888, a fall during the construction of a new building.

1910, a stage accident during the production of a play.

1932, burned alive saving a child from a fire.

1954, starvation.

1976, a hostage, taken out in an unsuccessful negotiation.~

He’s exhausted. He wonders if Pricilla is too. Doesn’t it get exhausting to do this to someone? Was what happened that led him to this point really that bad?

He watched his soul go into another body, sitting down and watching this one grow up. Quite the rebellious one, this version of himself. From his mullet, to the dark makeup around his eyes and the piercings littering his ears.

The trapped man watched him, grateful Pricilla had chosen to leave him alone for the time being.

He looked at a calendar on the wall behind the other him as he walked by one day, spotting the ‘1997’ on the wall.

Ah, only a year left until he’d die and another incarnation of him would come.

One day, as the other him is looking in the mirror, the trapped soul stands and stares at him. He knows he looks like hell, though he’s grateful Pricilla never showed him what he looked like. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure if these versions of ‘himself’ were really him, or if it was all just an elaborate lie.

“I’m right here. I’ve been right here. You’re lucky, living on the outside. You don’t even know I’m here, do you? You can’t see me, they never can.” He muttered bitterly.

The man on the other end paused the application of his makeup, his cut brow twitching.

“I can hear you. I liked it better when you were just some weird, fucked up version of myself in my dreams, though. I have enough on my plate without worrying about if I need to see a shrink for voices in my head.”

He froze.

“You can hear me?! You can hear me, really?!”

The other him narrowed his eyes.

“Jesus, you’re loud. Yes, I can hear you.”

He stared wide eyed at himself and for the first time in centuries, he had a flicker of hope. He wasn’t sure what changed, but for once, he got the fire in his whole body to get up and fight with his whole body once more.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“You still haven’t forgotten the pirate from Delphi?”

Grey-ish blue eyes opened slowly and looked up at a pair that were identical.

“I could have done something, Tem.”

A small hum came from her lips as she crossed her legs and stared at him. She reached over, smoothing down his blonde hair before she pulled him into a hug.

“Why do you cling onto that immortal? He was only with you for but so long.”

“He made an impression. The way he spoke of his family and his crew, it was honestly the most genuine and pure emotions I’ve seen in centuries, and still, I haven’t quite seen anything like it.” he muttered.

He was met with a small hum.

“So, centuries later, several incarnations of him later, and you still want to step in and help? Is it because of Hyacinthus?”

He pursed his lips, looking down at her collar, biting his lip.

“I-”

“He’s gone, Apollo. But I see this means a lot to you. Father and Uncle have their hands tied with their...ugh...escapades, so I doubt you’d find much resistance. I can...I can try and help you. I hate to see my brother like this.”

Blue eyes widened and he pulled back.

“Artemis-”

“I said I can try . You and I, there is only but so much that we can do. This may even require you to step out from Olympus, out from our domain, and into the domain of other deities. Some of them may not be too privy to actually help out. Our father hasn’t left the greatest of impressions on the other sky deities and they tend to run the show. But, I will try for you.” She kissed the top of his head and sat back.

“We should get started. We should look into this curse a bit more. If it was our...darling cousin that put the curse on the man, I wouldn’t be surprised if she put in some hidden stipulations.”

He stood, eyes determined.

“Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

Artemis smiled and led him out of the room.

“Let's start by talking to the Fates. Maybe they can tell us where we can start.”

-x-

-We're slowly losing ground

And hope is harder to maintain

When all the prayers we've prayed

Feel lost like tears in the rain-

-x-

The king snarled, exhaustion pulling at his form.

Really, how fucking long had he been there? Was he even going in the right direction? Which way was up or down?

The heavens themselves wouldn’t save that damn beast of a woman when he got to the front of the pathetic pirate’s mind. He swore it on his own pride and honor, he would revel in breaking her in half.

Then those incompetent ass pirates. He was certain if they had gotten to the kid sooner and broke whatever curse was inflicted, he would’ve already been at the forefront of the captain’s mind once more.

Instead, he was here, swimming in the inky blackness of this idiot’s mind, unsure if he was even-

“-member me?”

He blinked, hearing an echo. His scaled head snapped up, pausing momentarily.

Was that…?

“I have dreams, yes. Of past ‘mes’, I guess. You’re really kind of persistent.”

“I’m sorry, I just...I need you to remember fully who you are, who we are. You’re the first one of me that can see and hear me. I think maybe...Maybe we can break the curse?”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

The king’s fangs glinted as he looked towards the sound of the voices.

“F i n a l l y.”

-x-

-The waters pulling down

The moon's eclipsing the sun

The ending that we knew would come

Has finally begun-

-x-

Joong wasn’t much.

He lived his life poor and disinterested in life. His only friend was a fortune-telling, self proclaimed sun witch, and his only real interest in life was his motorcycle.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The dreams that plagued him since he was a child, of past lives and their subsequent deaths, none of it interested him.

They, like this persistent voice in his head for the past year, harping on a ‘curse’ or whatever, were just an inconvenience. He hadn’t heard from the ‘other him’ in a while, so maybe it was just an illusion from staying up late too many nights or something.

Either way, all this talk of mythical creatures and curses was truly a bother.

“Ah, you’re here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

He ducked under the beaded curtain of the fortune telling shop, sitting across from a gorgeous woman with feline eyes.

“I told you I’d come, Siyeon. It is your birthday.”

Siyeon smiled softly and reached for his hands, gently rubbing her thumbs along the back of them.

“Yeah, but you never let me read your cards.”

Joong shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his sandy brown mullet.

“Yeah, well. Happy birthday, how do you want me to do this?” He inquired. She laughed and pulled out a beautiful deck of tarot cards.

“You can shuffle the cards. Pull three of them and place them in a triangle formation and flip them one by one for me, okay?” the witch seemed excited about him participating, so he sent her a small, kind smile. He didn’t quite believe in any of this, but Siyeon was someone incredibly important to him, so just this once, he would go along with it.

He shuffled the cards, humming a birthday song to Siyeon while he did so before he followed her instructions and plucked three of the cards from three different sections of the deck, placing them in front of him in the shape of a triangle.

“Okay, flip them.”

Joong nodded and flipped the cards one by one.

Siyeon’s smile immediately fell.

A Reversed Emperor, The Tower, and the Three of Swords.

“Well that doesn’t look pleasant.” Joong tried to tease, but Siyeon’s expression didn’t crack. She looked up at him, brows pinched together. Joong shifted in his chair, the chains attached to his leather pants jingling from the move.

“Well? You gonna tell me what my fortune is, Si?”

“Right...right. Um...First is the Reversed Emperor. This is normally a symbol of power and being the king of kings, of sorts but um...reversed, there seems to be a lot of turmoil within you. You don’t have as much control as you’d like to believe you do, and it’s left you with a fake sense of safety and security.” She stared at the card before looking towards the second one.

“The Tower...there is chaos brewing for you, Joong. Chaos and destruction, and soon, something will happen that will absolutely turn your whole world upside down. The last, the Three of Swords, means heartbreak of some form is coming. It can be interpreted as something to do with the relationships you have, but it also can be in reference to some kind of terrible pain and suffering.”

“Well, that sounds welcoming.” Joong hummed, shrugging a shoulder. Siyeon looked at him, her face conflicted.

“I-”

“Hey, it's alright. Maybe your cards just don’t like me today.” He teased. Siyeon opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t how it worked, but he put a hand over hers, sending her a disarming smile.

“Hey, it’s your birthday. Don’t worry so much about this stuff right now. I finally let you read my cards, so let’s go out to eat or something.” He offered. Siyeon resisted the urge to scold him and tell him to take what she had read more seriously, to caution himself, but instead, she only nodded and stood from her table.

“You’re taking me to the Latin place down the street, right?”

“Only the best for my best witch. See what I did there?”

“Because I’m a witch, hardy harr, let’s go nerd.”

-x-

“What do you mean there was a curse placed on him?! How long was it gonna take before you found me?!”

“We tried days after it happened! You didn’t respond!”

Hyuna paused, staring at Yeosang in surprise before she squinted.

“Wait...in Greece…?”

“Yes!”

“HE’S BEEN GONE FOR THAT-” a hand covered her mouth and she nearly bit San, eyes narrowing at him. He sent her a dirty look, wiping his hand off on his jeans before he looked at Dawn.

He was the calmer of the two of them, so they’d get answers from him.

“Hyuna can’t step foot in the Greco-Roman territories. Zeus would skin her alive. Since you all were in Greece when you called on her, she didn’t come for her own safety. And I imagine because of her not responding that time, none of you called on us again until right now?” the weasel spirit inquired.

Wooyoung, San, and Mingi shook their heads. The three of them had stuck together this time.

Somewhere at the turn of the 20th century, Seonghwa had suggested they start splitting up to try and find Hongjoong, since all seven of them looking in the same spot in such a vast and ever changing world was...impractical, at best. Downright idiotic at worst.

It made sense, but all of them knew that was the kindest way Seonghwa could tell them he couldn’t stand looking at some of them as much as he could anymore. They had begun to see the cracks once more. The barely concealed tick of his jaw when he thought no one was looking. The way he sometimes scanned their group when they were together, silently hoping whoever took it would come forward.

At the very least, he needed to know who did it. Whiro be damned.

Speaking of, he and Jongho had become exceptional trackers, which came as no surprise to the group. After all, Jongho had tracked down Hongjoong with the minimal information and tech that he had from before, so this was progressively getting easier.

He just needed to be faster. He’d found Hongjoong once, the last time, but by time he got to the city he felt Hongjoong was in, he could only stand by in wide-eyed shock as the sound of a gunshot rang out into the night.

He didn’t tell the others that part. He and Whiro would bear that one alone.

Regardless of their failures, they often grouped up on the 22nd year, to try to fruitlessly put together the pieces they needed to find him this time before his birthday passed and they inevitably lost their opportunity once more.

It was 1998 now. The 22nd year. He’s birthday was in a week and he’d die once more if they didn’t find him.

Hyuna frowned and looked at her box on her hip.

“I don’t have any spirits for searching, but I can find some. For...y’know, the next time.” She cringed. The boys did as well before hearing the door to the loft they were temporarily staying in open.

Seonghwa must have come home.

Hyuna gauged the looks on their faces and cringed.

“Right, then. I imagine this won’t be a good look for me to be here if that’s how all of you are looking at me. Dawn and I will go and I’ll get back to you as soon as I find a dog spirit suited for the job. I’m...I’m sorry.” She bowed her head down and the two of them disappeared as soon as the door opened.

Seonghwa stared at the trio for a moment before pointing behind him, his voice having lost nearly all of it’s usual sass and coyness.

“Come, I brought food.”

The three of them exchanged a look before trudging out of the room.

-x-

“Apollo, you really are impressive.”

Alistair, or rather, Apollo, wiped sweat from his brow and looked up from his spot on the floor before Hera, blood running down his temple as he tossed the head of some beast at her feet.

“Will you help me?”

“I haven’t seen you so determined to do anything since Hyacinthus’ death. And even Kaliopel is helping out-”

“I spoke with the Fates, I’ve spoken to Aunt Persephone and convinced Uncle Hades to offer up assistance in locating where the soul goes...even Nana Styx offered to pacify my father. I just need your help this once.”

Hera arched a perfectly curved brow.

“And if I say no?”

“I assure you, I can find someone else who will help me in my plight. This could be your chance to get rid of me, but if not-”

“I’m listening.”

Apollo exhaled, looking at the sun disk charm in his palm. He had retrieved it from the sea shortly after Hongjoong disappeared into the depths all those moons ago.

“I offer up half of my godhood for your assistance. All I ask is your assistance in distracting my father and for your aid in my wife and I finding him. It’s too late this time for us to intervene, but I think a soul toiling around in this cycle without the acceptance of the gods is already means enough for someone to step in. If he is out of our domain, I shall go to him. I just ask that you help me, this once. You’ll never see me again afterwards.”

Hera looked at him in genuine surprise.

“All this running, and it’s not for another consort?”

“No. It’s to break the curse no one authorized my cousin to make. Even Uncle Poisiden doesn’t seem to recall giving Scylla permission to do such a thing. It has caused conflict between him and Uncle Hades.”

Hera stared at him for a long while, looking at the offering he’d so graciously tossed at her feet. She tutted and stood, her sandaled feet being the only sound in the room as she descended the stairs to her throne. She plucked a peacock feather from her robe and pressed it to Apollo’s forehead.

“Get up off of your knees. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your words and determination have appealed to me. I shall take part of your godhood in exchange for my assistance, but it shall be restored in full if you can complete your task. I will only help you once. If he dies again, you’re on your own.” She warned him before humming.

“I’ll even see about getting you some extra assistance.”

Apollo perked.

“Extra?”

“Don’t get too excited. It won’t be easy. We’ll see how determined you are. Go speak to Mnemosyne and her daughter Klio and refresh yourself with what you have missed. Then go.”

Apollo nodded and stood, a resolute look on his face.

“Thank you, Hera.”

“Tell anyone I was kind to you and I’ll find a way to kill you myself. Now go.”

Without another word, the Sun God turned on his heel and left, looking at the sun disk in his palm.

There was a lot of work to be done.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

It's finally begun

You're reaping what you've sown

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“JOONG! JOONG HOLD ON, PLEASE!”

The biker looked towards the sky, his body growing numb as he felt Siyeon’s hands shakily cup his face. Somewhere off to the side, his motorcycle lay in pieces.

So this was it? A car collision?

Ugh.

“Joong! Joong please!”

He knows Siyeon is yelling, but all he can hear is static. Above her head, he can see the sad reflection of himself, looking down at him.

Oh, so that’s where he was.

He stared at it for a long time before blinking slowly, letting out a terse laugh.

“Don’t have such a horrible look on your face. It’s only another life, right? You looked so hopeful. Find yourself again.”

Siyeon’s brows pinched together in confusion, but the other him’s eyes grew.

‘Find yourself again.’

In the depths of the eighth sea, between the planes of this world and the next, the captain grits his teeth and nods, swimming away from his dying form.

He couldn’t give up. It was a slow time coming, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t let her win. Hell, he had even made a breakthrough with himself, something he couldn’t fathom happening before.

He was close. He was close to doing... something .

The king was also getting closer.

‘Pricilla’ had chosen to leave him alone for the first few years of his next life, it was nothing extraordinary. He was an orphan, lonely just like he had been for all sixteen of his lives before this one.

Everything changed in 2008.

“Melody, look!”

He swam to the edge, peering out.

What is this? Someone noticed him in the orphanage?

No one ever noticed him before.

“Hey there, buddy. Do you wanna come home with us? You and your siblings?”

The child frowned and looked at his feet, a small beret hiding most of his hair.

“I don’t have siblings.”

The massive man sent him a smile, tucking his hair behind his ear and as the spirit watched on, he could see he had lots of tattoos.

“You do now. If you’d like to come with us, Hongjoong.” He offered. The ten year old blinked.

“My name..isn’t…”

“George is a bit boring, don’t you think? I like Hongjoong better. It means you’re the center of the whole world, y’know.”

Hongjoong looked up at him, then the woman standing behind him who sent him a gentle smile as three other children clung to her dress, staring at him in anticipation. They looked desperate to get out of the orphanage and have a family.

A happy family.

Hongjoong smiled shyly and walked up to the grey-ish blue eyed man, gently squeezing the little harbor seal plushie he kept with him at all times. He stepped in front of the man, shifting from foot to foot.

“You won’t...you won’t throw me away, will you, mister? Not me and my friend Angel, will you?” He inquired, hugging the seal tighter. The man shook his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hongjoong. Do you accept? Will you come with us?”

Hongjoong paused for only a second longer before he nodded, all but jumping into his arms with a wide smile.

The tall man’s arms closed around him and he smiled, picking him up before picking up one of the other children.

She stared at Hongjoong with wide eyes before smiling softly, her hair up in a ponytail.

“My name is Suzuka. I guess you’re my little brother now?”

Hongjoong nodded eagerly.

“Yes! My name is George-ah no...d-dad said my name is Hongjoong!”

The spirit of the captain watched on with tears in his eyes and disbelief.

Even he didn’t remember his name anymore, but somehow, when this man appeared, he felt a familiar sense of home and warmth when he uttered the name to the child.

The captain watched the child and his family (that word felt so new to him. Family. He hadn’t had a family in ages) grow together. He expected the worst. Expected the tattooed man and his wife to be demons. That had to be it, there was no way he’d have a happy life when the sixteen leading up to this point were so miserable.

They...never treated the four of them with anything other than the purest form of respect and love the captain can remember. He watched on, as the mother sang lullabies and told them stories before bed. As their father taught them how to play music, tattooed fingers working over a guitar, or the keys to a piano.

This...was honestly such a happy and energetic life.

He had friends and family. He smiled every day, got to perform on stages.

Hongjoong...was happy. For the first time in centuries, he was truly happy.

Years later, Pricilla returned, wrapping her limbs around him.

No, no, no, he couldn’t let it end. He couldn’t let the best version of himself die again.

So he turned and fought with all his might. He clawed and scratched and bit down on whatever he could.

No more, he was tired. He wanted to live, he just wanted to live!

“Captain! What’s gotten into you, hm? I haven’t seen such fight in your eyes in a while~”

He’d fight. Harder than ever before. He couldn’t let her win.

Hongjoong thrashes, slamming his fists against the wall. He can see himself, just beyond the water, blissfully unaware.

He’s laughing with his friends, celebrating new years as the calendar rolls over from 2019 to 2020. The captain feels his throat close slightly. This was the 22nd year. He was going to lose again, wasn’t he? He was going to lose his life again if the curse wouldn’t be broken.

Sometimes he screams at his own reflection, hoping somehow he can hear himself. The last one, the biker named Joong, heard his voice. So maybe if he could get through to this one…

He needs to know, he has to find out who he is.

“Hello!? Can you hear me?! Hello!” He screams out to the college student.

“Remember them, remember yourself!” He shouts. It's almost funny in a tragic way. He in spirit can’t even remember the names of the men that held his fate in his hands. The seven men from before. He needed them to help unlock his memories. They were the key as much as he was, he thinks.

Golden eyes watch him, impressed. A clawed hand snakes around his body and squeezes his face so hard it hurts. He glares at the woman, his lips curled up into a scowl. She tuts at him, shaking her head.

“You’ve been fighting for so long, Captain. Wouldn’t it be easier to give up? They look close to calling it quits. How could they not? Centuries without their precious leader, their precious lover-” She spits the word out like a curse, but Hongjoong only pushes past her, swimming to the opposite side of the vast space. He can see the men, six instead of seven this time.

“You want to give up on him?!” Seonghwa snarled. Mingi’s nostrils flared in anger as he stood nearly chest to chest with the ex prince.

“I didn’t say that! I’m saying you need to slow the fuck down and breathe for a bit. None of us have gotten anywhere like this. We’re tearing ourselves apart like this!” He hissed. Seonghwa grit his teeth, ice frosting over his fingers as he glared at him.

“None of this would even be happening if-” He stopped himself short, clenching his fists. Mingi glared at him.

“If what? If someone didn’t steal the staff? You keep bringing it up, you keep looking at me different than the others. You still think it’s me!”

Seonghwa lowered his gaze, but didn’t deny the accusation. Mingi clenched his fists so hard it hurt, before he raised his voice.

“I didn’t do it! How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t steal it?! Even if I did, do you think I wouldn’t have come clean by now?!”

“I never said you did steal it!” Seonghwa barked.

“You didn’t have to!”

The two of them began to argue and Jongho stood, letting out a sigh.

“Fuck this, we’re going for a walk.” He grumbled, sliding on a leather jacket. Yeosang watched him in concern before standing to retreat into the kitchen, five fox tails swaying behind him as he began cooking. Yunho sighed and laid on the floor out of the way. He was too tired for this today. Geb rumbled in silent agreement while Wooyoung shook in San’s grip.

“Cheese, c’mon boy.” Jongho beckoned and a black and tan Jindo ran up to him, nuzzling his thigh and letting him put a harness on before he walked out, slamming the door with a bit of force behind him.

Whiro rumbled in his head.

“You got the cloth for the dog, right?”

“Never leave home without it.” Jongho held out a small cloth, dangling it under Cheese’s nose. The dog was given to them by Hyuna as a search dog for Hongjoong. He was still young, but with a bit more training, Jongho was sure he’d be a good supernatural sniffing dog.

At least, he hoped he could sniff Hongjoong out before November. They were running out of time.

Seonghwa and Mingi continued arguing and the captain screamed from beyond the invisible walls, pounding on the wall desperately.

“What are you doing?! Stop it! Stop arguing!! Please!!!! Find him! Find me!” He screams, watching Seonghwa and Mingi argue. San and Wooyoung are holding each other, eyes downcast. Yeosang is busying himself in the kitchen, distracting himself from the argument. Yunho is curled up on the floor, an arm over his eyes as he keeps himself from intervening.

Hongjoong felt his heart sink, biting his lip as he watched the men. The hand comes back, fingers wrapping around his ankle as she pulls him down like she’d done time and time before.

Deeper, deeper into the eighth sea, the sea of time itself.

Deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Hongjoong reaches out at the wall, tears rolling out of his eyes and washing away with the salt water.

“Please, don’t give up on me.”

-x-

-This sorrow weighs down on my shoulders

This fear is getting harder to hide

You’ll leave me alone in this darkness

Left to hold out

Against the tide-

-x-

Jongho sighs as he bundles up. It was March, so the chill of winter still clung to the air in South Korea. Whiro stretched across his skin under his jacket, providing an extra layer of insulation that none of the locals could see.

Amazing how close the two of them had become.

Cheese tugged at the leash, barking once before pulling him forward. Jongho blinked before jolting in surprise at how persistent the dog was.

“Cheese, what the hell-”

Cheese ignored his protests and pulled the Maori man into a crowd of people. He was about to scold him when he heard a voice.

His heart stopped.

“People want it

People dream about it

It can be different to every individual

It can complete us

Or it can destroy us

And it can change the world

People call it 'treasure'”

Jongho’s lips parted in surprise as he watched a man walk forward on a stage, his hair a sandy brown color in a mullet. He held a microphone to his lips as a few other people and even some kids moved around behind him. It seemed to be a street performance of some kind.

Jongho had his eyes focused on the small brunette the whole time.

“The sound of wind blowing from the horizon

The warmth of the sun hitting the ocean waves

The vibration of sand beating like the hearts of youth

We're at the starting point of this long journey”

“Holy fucking shit, kid.” Whiro’s voice snapped him back into focus as he tugged at his hand. “Get the phone, Jongho! Close your mouth and get the phone!”

Jongho shakily plucked his phone from his pocket and held it up, eyes wide as he recorded, nearly dropping it.

On the stage, the brunette dressed in modern clothing that was clearly supposed to resemble pirate attire, walked around the stage, smiling at some of the kids and some of the other five adults on stage.

“The freezing winds may make us shiver

The heat of the sun may make us thirsty

The vibrations of the sand may swallow us

But we'll never stop.”

The group grew closer to him, and Jongho watched a woman with feline features raise her microphone next, posing prettily.

“Gold~”

A man with piercings through his eyebrow and bottom lip put an arm on her shoulder, speaking into his own microphone.

“Eternal life~”

A blonde man with a distinct accent put an arm around the brunette’s shoulder, grinning at him before he winked at the crowd, sending them a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

“Honor~”

A slightly shorter man with a deeper voice wiggled under the blonde’s arm and grabbed his mic, his accent matching his as he chimed out his own line in a deep baritone.

“Love~”

A person with pink hair with yellow and blue chalk highlights eagerly bounded up behind them, all but throwing themselves onto the brunette’s back in the center, their long legs stretching outward.

“Fame!”

The six of them laughed before the brunette in the center held his microphone up to his lips.

“It doesn't matter what you dream for,

So let me ask you

What.is.your.treasure?” he extended a hand out and for the first time in centuries, as the sound of people clapping around him echoed through his ears, tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Hong...joong…?”

“Will you join us?”

------------Taglist-

@kimnamshiks @angel0taiyo @atiny-dazzlinglight @phasephoenix @eversionic @itsatinyworld @prettyjoongs @unatempesta-dipensieri @lonely10vely @yunhosblackgf @not-majestic-bluenicorn @moonmin-miya @girlcarma @kpopthingzsblog @delphinium3000 @just-a-starfruit @mireyth @skmoonchild @queen-of-himbos @allthestarsrcloser @sneaky-ash @im-what-iam @thereal-smolchild @arohatiny @smallfrye @atinyteez @takitaro @hunnibxbe

#fie writes #against the tide #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopuniversenet #atzinc #kconnet #AtT Ch.10 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ot8 #ateez ot8 #member x member #ateez ot8 fic #polyteez #hey look i posted and its not 3am look at that pls reblog if you like it thx ily

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kitkatopinions · 4 years ago

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I'm tired of fantasy world writers being like 'oh, this is my allegory for racism in my fantasy world where actual racism doesn't exist, also I'm going to not do any research on how to properly include said allegory, badly portray it, make my main characters affected by this white or white passing, and then use racist stereotypes later.' Long post full of RWBY criticism ahead.

RWBY is terrible with the Faunus racism they chose to make part of their story. They made the White Fang an evil terrorist group, they made Blake lecture fellow Faunus about how they're the ones actually hurting themselves by using violence against each other, they framed comfortable and peaceful protest as the only good way despite establishing that peaceful protest didn't work, and they made their child slave coded character who literally got branded turn into nothing more than an abusive stalker and then had him killed without ever addressing the aforementioned child slavery. Also, the only Faunus among our main cast now that Sun is gone is one of the most privileged of the Faunus. Blake can pass as a human if she wants to, she grew up fairly rich, she has two loving parents, and she comes from an inherently powerful position as the daughter of the Chief. Having Blake be privileged would be absolutely fine, if she acknowledged her privilege, wasn’t the mouthpiece on Faunus rights, if she wasn’t the only Faunus in our main cast, and if she didn’t repeatedly lecture other Faunus.

On top of that, two of our main cast have been racist (within the narrative of the show) towards our main Faunus character, one of them learns from it (even though that as well was badly handled) and became the only member of Team RWBY to ever call out human's being racist after season three. Oh wait, except the other member of our main cast that was racist that never had it addressed because it was treated like a joke now has yelled at a racist once, in an incredibly tense situation, so I guess her racism is gone. It’s good that it’s gone, since CRWBY is pushing her and Blake as a couple, but it’s frustrating that her racism never even got a ‘that wasn’t funny’ and we never see Yang learn any better, because it feels like CRWBY brushed it off and acted like it was fun and quirky instead of treating it like the casual racism it was. They do a similar thing with Robyn in season seven which came out in 2019, when she calls Marrow ‘Wags.’ Also none of our main cast are ever seen protesting for Faunus rights (sans a two second flashback of child Blake at a rally and a non canon RWBY chibi cartoon.) I don't think Ruby - our main protagonist - has ever even mentioned Faunus rights. In a world where Adam was branded with the SDC logo under fifteen years ago at the most, racism and fighting racism should be a big part of the story, and instead, it's brushed to the side and used for the occasional 'we don't like racism btw' moment now that Blake got rid of a Faunus run terrorist group. To me, this implies that the number one threat to the Faunus… Was the Faunus, and although some humans are still anti-Faunus, no one has to devote their time or energy into fighting for equality. In season 7, Blake doesn’t even attend the rally of the political figure running against Jacques Schnee - who as far as I’m aware, is the only business owner or person in power who has ever displayed anti-Faunus racism in the show. By the way, please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. It’s been a hot minute since I watched through the show.

Instead of attending a rally that seems very important for the Faunus, Blake goes dancing with her crush. It’s like she stopped caring about politics and rights after the White Fang got removed. That feels so bad. Also, I'll note that most of the actual POC Faunus that can't pass as white in this show are on the bad side (Sienna, Fennec, Corsac, Lionheart, Ilia, Marrow.) And either they die, or they must learn to give up their destructive ways and become better people. I’m not saying this was intentional, I’m saying it’s a pattern, it’s alarming, and the writers should’ve known better.

I believe Miles Luna and Kerry Shawcross have admitted that they mishandled Faunus racism, but first off, it still doesn’t excuse them because they were grown people putting out a product that premiered in 2013 and they should’ve known to do research and do better. But second off, I still feel like they haven't done the research they need to and continue to mishandle the racism by ignoring it when they want to and bringing it up only to let us as an audience know Weiss and Yang aren't racist anymore. They can’t just cut the Faunus from their storyline now, but they can’t just ignore it, and need to actually make it a better allegory. Honestly though, one of the big reasons I'm convinced that they still haven't done any real research on how to properly portray POC or racism is because of how terribly they're handling the Ace Ops.

They're writing a fantasy show, they aren't tied to real world portrayals of law enforcement, but they went the route of commentating on real world police, corrupt police, and use of excessive force. That's fine. But things are already pretty dicey just starting off because of how they've mishandled and continue to mishandle Faunus racism. Outside of Jacques Schnee and his company and business partners, I don't remember seeing Faunus racism in Atlas (not Mantle, Atlas.) If I'm wrong about that, again, please correct me, I may have missed it. But without seeing actual discrimination against Faunus within the police force, right off the bat, that's a mishandling of commentating on police brutality. But also, other than Clover who is now dead, the Ace Ops are all people of color. CRWBY made their bad cops all not white. Even Ironwood - who is white passing - is voiced by a person of color who has said he believes that James is Chinese American. I'll point out that being a Hunter is pretty much just being a cop with more freedom and seemingly less rules. Qrow (a Beacon Huntsman) goes around destroying public property and comments on how some hunters work outside of the law, and yet it's only the Ace Ops who are held to real world ACAB rules and everyone else gets to be a good cop/law enforcement officer. Ruby gets to proudly proclaim herself a Huntress, Weiss gets to arrest people, Jaune gets told that he deserves his Huntsman license, we've been getting told for seven seasons that Hunters help people and do what's right, and we're given long time Hunters and mentor figures like Oobleck, Glynda, Qrow, and now Robyn is being framed that way, and they back that up. Even training Atlas soldiers like Neon and Flynt are fine and fun. But only the Ace Ops are bad, corrupt law enforcement officers. So that way, we can have the entirely white passing Team RWBY beat up the entirely POC, not white passing Ace Ops. Even though Team RWBY is a byproduct of the same kind of program and even though we’ve seen the police discriminate against Faunus in Vale. If CRWBY wants their allegories to be taken seriously, they need to recognize that RWBY and co are also certified police. Also, it’s really not funny to see people use ACAB as a reason why the Ace Ops are of course bad, but then turn around and simp for Winter, and be like ‘We want Winter to be redeemed, but Harriet? What a bitch!’ Like… I’m side-eyeing that pretty hard.

Speaking of Winter, now she’s in charge of the Ace Ops. But unlike Marrow, Winter doesn’t just look sad sometimes and blindly only follow direct orders without protest. She’s actually feeling all kinds of things, and she’s actually being framed as strong, intelligent, and reasonable. I’m sure no one forgot this, but I’ll note it anyway; Winter is white. Having Winter be the only Ace Op to actually listen to JRY and do things without James explicitly telling her to (although I don’t consider what she did a betrayal or going behind his back) is dicey. They could’ve given this moment to Harriet and nothing would change. ‘This lady typically follows orders, is short tempered, and pushes down her emotions, but she can still recognize a fairly good idea when she sees one and can actually think for herself, so although this isn’t a betrayal, she compromises and lets Team JRY go after their friend.’ Yeah, idk guys, I feel like there was literally no reason to slot Winter in with the Ace Ops to be the lone voice of reason when Harriet could’ve become the new leader and played the exact same role. Instead, Winter gets to have a power move where she puts Harriet in her place. Winter is given actual depth and gets to put down the black woman who the writers have made display nothing but anger for the whole season. The fans rally behind Winter because she was given depth and hate Harriet because she has none, but that’s the fault of the writers. Btw, ‘this black woman won’t show any emotion besides anger’ is a racist stereotype. It would probably have taken like five minutes on google for Luna and Shawcross to have realized that it was a bad idea to write a black woman in any sort of position of power to be constantly angry + hiding her emotions. Elm is in the same boat as Harriet, and I was going to say it’s less severe, but then I remembered that she literally attacked Ren for talking about their emotions.

Look, my point is that RWBY as a show has never handled allegories like racism and corrupt police well, and either they should stop trying and stick to ‘make believe land is just different than the real world’ or start putting in the work and fix this. By the way, I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad for watching or even enjoying RWBY, but I hope people can watch it while recognizing that some of the things CRWBY has chosen to put into their show are destructive and that the creators need to be called out. I’ll continue to hope that most RWBY fans do recognize that RWBY is deeply flawed, but I’ve just been stewing recently about someone who told me that I shouldn’t have expected the show to address Faunus racism in the Atlas arcs because that ended when Adam died.

I want to make it totally clear that I agree with and support ACAB in the real world and I'm not against it being used in fantasy works, I just think CRWBY is doing a poor job of portraying it and many fans are misusing it and it feels disrespectful. This is an actual real world movement with actual real world consequences. It feels very bad to see people use it to argue that the writers who have never handled allegories of racism well can make an all POC group be a destructive, violent, easily controlled, easily beat group of corrupt cops that need a white woman and fellow cop to be the voice of reason.

#RWDE #rwde content #rwby criticism #rwby critical

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jjoutermaybanks · 4 years ago

Text

Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 6k

warnings: time to get ~smutty~

(also rubber up kids no glove no love don’t do it like Y/N and JJ)

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART THREE

The end of the party finally came, after what felt like an eternity of waiting and avoiding JJ. Sarah had to go home with her dad and Rose to celebrate whatever award he’d received, but she swore to meet up with you all tomorrow. Pope claimed the same thing; his dad had wanted him to work the event, not attend, so he felt obligated to spend the night at his own house. Kiara didn’t mind doing whatever, and John B. looked to me to see what I wanted.

“Want to come back to the Chateau with us?” he asked softly, and Kiara nodded in support.

“We can watch a movie and raid John. B’s snack stash.” Her brown eyes were warm and hopeful, and you knew what they were trying to do. By now everyone had heard--or seen, more likely--what JJ had done. He’d flaunted the brunette all night, at one point blatantly making out with her in the middle of the party. Kie had tried to make you feel better by calling him an asshole and swearing she’d kick his ass, but this didn’t really help. You didn’t hate JJ; quite the opposite, in fact. Calling him an asshole didn’t soften the pain, because it only made you remember all the times he wasn’t an asshole. Like when he carried you home after you split your foot open on a rock, or the time when you were miserable after a fight with your mom and he stayed up half the night at the Chateau cracking jokes just to make you smile.

“That sounds amazing,” you conceded, taking a deep breath before adding, “but I can’t. My mom is gonna want to hear all about my night, and more importantly gossip about hers, so...I’ll see you guys later.” Your smile was forced, but after John B. gave you a hug it became more natural. No matter how rocky your relationship was with JJ right now, you knew you had true friends in the other Pogues.

As you made your way through the dwindling crowd, a familiar blonde appeared in front of you. At first JJ didn’t see you, looking around for someone else. And then his eyes landed on you, taking in your broken expression and sagging shoulders. You noticed his undone bow tie, hanging limply by his neck despite the expert job you’d done on it earlier. His hair was messy, and his shirt was almost entirely untucked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he looked like this, and your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

His jaw set, eyes steeling as they met yours. “Going to find Rafe?” His tone was clipped, a slight smirk twisting his pink lips that dug into your heart like a knife.

You attempted to appear unaffected by him, raising your chin with a blank look. “No, I’m not, actually. Not that you’d believe me either way.” Your fists clenched by your sides as you stood your ground. JJ raised his eyebrows, disguising his reaction with a smirk.

For a second, his lips parted as if to say something. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a slender hand snaking around his waist, belonging to the brunette. She was even prettier up close, in a fake tan, perfect teeth kind of way. She gave you a calculating look, causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

JJ cleared his throat, throwing an arm loosely around her shoulder as they breezed right by you. Just as he passed, you caught JJ’s eye; the look he gave you was chilling, his eyes icy and distant. Goosebumps raised on your skin at the sheer frigidity of his demeanor, but you had to push this aside. It didn’t matter, you shouldn’t care so much.

You repeated this mantra all the way home, until you closed the front door behind you and collapsed against the wall. You could hear your mother bustling in the kitchen, surely on cloud nine after tonight. Working up all the energy you had to talk to her, you trudged into the kitchen.

“Y/N! Finally! Wasn’t that just splendid?” Your mother had taken off her gaudy dress and was now in a robe, but still had her hair and makeup done. She looked like a clown, and you knew if JJ were here you two would be laughing about it.

“It was...fine,” you said simply. Honestly, you didn’t even pay attention to the party itself, your thoughts too preoccupied by something else. This didn’t please your mother, however, who then launched into a lecture about how ungrateful you were and that you should show more appreciation for her hard work.

“Look, Mom,” you interrupted after letting her rant and rave for five minutes. “I’m exhausted. Can we fight about this later?” It was no point trying to end the argument; you two were always in a constant combative state. If it wasn’t about the party, it would be about your reckless friends, or your laziness, or the fact that you were never home.

Your mother scoffed. “Fine, avoid confrontation, take the easy way out like you always do. One day you’ll have to take responsibility, you know!” she called after you, but you’d stopped paying attention and slammed the door to your room before she even finished.

The next day you reconvened with the Pogues as planned. Almost all of the Pogues, that is. JJ didn’t show up to your usual meeting place at the dock, and no one had heard from him.

“I wonder where he could be,” Sarah fretted. It wasn’t like JJ to just ghost on you.

Pope rubbed his arm uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes. You could sense he had something to say, and sighed. “Spit it out, Pope.”

He nodded. “It’s just...I think he’s probably with that girl from the party. If I had to take a guess, that is. I could be totally wrong--” He rambled on, trying to soften the blow of an idea you’d already thought of. You knew Pope was probably right. JJ had most likely spent the night with the girl, and he wasn’t the type of guy to just skip out on someone the next morning. You were almost irritated at how chivalrous he was.

“It’s fine, you guys,” you stated, hating how your stupid feelings were affecting the group. “Let’s just move on, alright? What do we have planned for today?”

And it actually was fine, for the most part. Pope needed help fixing his dad’s boat, and so the day was spent working out mechanics and laying around in the sun. Sarah relayed all of the Kook gossip to you and Kie, and it was pretty entertaining hearing about the problems of Outer Banks princesses. Even when the day was winding to a close with no word from JJ, you already felt slightly better. The pain always subsided, it just took a little time. And with the added distance JJ had apparently decided to put between you two, the process would be even easier.

However, after a third day without seeing JJ, you started to worry. Even the other Pogues had started to wonder what had happened to him. It wasn’t like JJ to skip out on all of you, and you knew he valued friendship over everything else. No girl could have changed him this much, no matter how pretty she was.

“At what point do we file a missing person’s report?” you questioned on the fourth afternoon, sitting on the dock beside Pope as he worked on the finishing touches of his dad’s boat. It was just the two of you, so you felt comfortable enough to voice your fears.

Adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, Pope cast you a doubtful glance. “I don’t think the cops around here would care too much if we said he was missing,” Pope admitted. “I mean, it’s JJ. He’s gotten in so much trouble before they might even be happy he’s AWOL.”

Hearing the harsh words stung your heart, but you knew they were true. Sensing your grimace, Pope sighed, setting down his tools to sit beside you. “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“Not mean,” you murmured. “Just true.”

Pope was quiet for a while, and you both watched your hazy reflections in the water before you. Your feet swished in the murky depths as thoughts swam around your mind. After a few minutes, he spoke up again. “What exactly went down between you and JJ? Other than the kiss thing with Rafe.” Pope’s question was innocent, and you knew you owed him an explanation. The only problem was you didn’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

Inhaling deeply, you shrugged. “With JJ it’s always been...different. We’re best friends, of course, but sometimes it felt like more. The way he talked to me, the way he looked at me...I knew he wanted something else, but I was too scared to give it to him.”

“Why?” Pope asked you. “This is just me guessing, but I feel like you maybe liked him too.”

You smiled. “It was that obvious, huh?” Your thoughts drifted to JJ, and for the first time in a while you let your true emotions speak. You remembered his bright blue eyes, how you felt when they connected with your gaze. You remembered his charming smile, how it always managed to banish the darkness. Frowning slightly, you responded, “I don’t know why I was scared...maybe because I’ve never had anything serious with anyone before? Maybe I was too worried about ruining our friendship. I had a lot of excuses, but none of them were good enough to ever get rid of the feelings fully.”

Pope nodded along as you spoke, understanding as ever. “That’s how I feel about Kiara,” he told you, surprising you with his honesty. “I’m crazy about her, but I’d hate to ruin what we have now.”

You nudged his shoulder. “You can’t live in fear, Pope. You have to make a move or you’ll never know.” You also knew Kiara would be thrilled if he actually confessed his feelings.

He smiled at you, eyes full of amusement. “Exactly, and that’s what you should do too.” Rolling your eyes at his reverse logic, you chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re right, obviously. I just need to get over myself.” You knew this was the answer all along, but talking with Pope made it that much clearer. The next time you saw JJ, you would confront him, and whatever happened would be worth it because at least you tried.

But you didn’t know when you’d see him next. He’d been gone for so long, it was anybody’s guess when he’d be back. You didn’t know how long you could wait before all of this newfound bravery was gone.

Getting to your feet quickly, you grinned at Pope. “You know what? That’s just what I’m going to do. I’m going to find JJ.”

Standing up as well, Pope furrowed his brows. “Uh, how? No one’s seen him for days.”

Waving your car keys in the air, you said, “I’ll drive around the whole damn island before I give up. He has to be somewhere around here, right?” You let this brief optimism fuel you as you climbed into your car, firing up the engine and rolling down the window to hear Pope.

He leaned his forearms on the door, peering into the car with a skeptical glance. “Look, Y/N, I’m all for you shooting your shot and following your heart. But...if it leads you nowhere, try not to be too devastated, okay?”

You nodded, hoping your smile was convincing enough to soothe Pope’s worries. You heard what he was saying and took it to heart; for all you knew JJ would laugh in your face when you told him how you felt. But you had to try, or you’d live the rest of your life regretting it.

For the next few hours, you drove around the whole island, searching all the usual spots for JJ. He wasn’t anywhere near the docks, he wasn’t hanging out in The Wreck. You drove through The Cut to no avail, even getting out to ask a few locals if they’d seen him. Refusing to give up, you tried Figure 8 next, thinking that maybe he’d been spending his days terrorizing Kooks. But he wasn’t there either, and once you’d searched everywhere imaginable you slowed to a stop on the side of the road, smacking the wheel out of frustration.

Where the hell are you, JJ? Biting your lip and peering out at the empty street, you wracked your brain for any place you’d overlooked. After a minute of thinking, only one place came to mind. It was so obvious you’d figured he would never go there. You also didn’t think he’d want to set foot anywhere near it.

His house.

You’d only been there once, but with all the Pogues there with you. JJ had needed to get something from inside, and the tension in the air when John B. pulled the van up to the run-down shack was suffocating. Your heart had never beat harder than when you were waiting for JJ to reemerge, hopefully unscathed. After a painful twenty minutes, he’d finally come out, but with a few bruises and scratches to show for it.

When he’d slid into the seat beside you, he said nothing about what had happened inside. And you hadn’t asked, either, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted. So you simply leaned your head against his shoulder, praying that he knew you were there for him. His only reaction to this had been to kiss the top of your head, and that was all you needed to know he understood.

Now, the thought of going back there terrified you. It was truly the last possible option, and you knew you had to check it before giving up on your mission. But the thought of going to that place where so much hurt had occurred...you almost prayed not to find JJ, because that meant he was safe from his father.

Hands shaking as you drove, you tried to compose your breathing. It was a short drive, too short for the amount of mental preparation needed. You parked the car and turned it off, staring out at the seemingly quiet exterior of the house. Appearances were deceiving, though; you knew the horrors that took place behind those walls.

Sucking in a breath, you forced the door open and began to walk towards the house. No point in dawdling, you had a job to do. But as you came closer and closer, you began to hear something. It was a sound you’d seldom heard before, but one that haunted your sleep for weeks on end.

It was the sound of JJ screaming.

Automatically you froze, your entire body immobilized by his voice. Along with his voice was another, a man’s, yelling just as loud. There was a harsh crack, followed by a deep thump that made you flinch. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, and terror overtook your body.

All of a sudden the front door flung open. The shouts were clearer now, and you glimpsed JJ wrestling out of someone’s grip. His blonde hair was stained with something, his ripped tank top smeared as well. Your heart sank when you realized it was fresh red blood.

JJ’s grunts echoed in your ears as he fought, and the sound of a fist cracking against someone’s face made your eyes shut tight. But they quickly reopened when his father hollered angrily, and you saw JJ rushing towards you.

“Y/N?!” he cried, completely stupefied that you were here. Struggling to form words, you felt your eyes well with tears. But JJ didn’t stop to console you, instead grabbed your arm and ripped you back. It was then you saw his father barreling out the door as well, pure malice in his black eyes.

Slamming into your car, you fumbled with the door and held your breath as JJ collapsed into the passenger seat. “Fucking drive!” he snapped, and you didn’t hesitate before flooring the gas and sending the car jerking into motion. JJ’s father stumbled to the ground, and you watched his figure recede in the rearview mirror.

Gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles were white, you swallowed hard before risking a glance at JJ. If you were stunned before, this was a whole new level of shock. Not only was his shirt and hair stained with blood, but it was dripping from a deep gash in his forehead and cut in his lip. Purple bruises dotted his face, and one of his eyes was a gruesome black color.

You took a shaky breath, swerving accidentally as your shell shock distracted you. JJ immediately lunged to grab the wheel, and the car lurched violently as you hit the brakes.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, eyes hooded with anger as he glared at you. “Can you drive?”

You couldn’t speak, your heart hammering too loudly to think straight. JJ saw the pure fear in your eyes, and instantly softened, his tense shoulders slackening as he pushed his matted hair off his face.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring out at the road in front of you. “What the fuck were you doing at my house?” His tone was a mixture of anger and genuine concern, and it took everything in you not to cry.

“I-I was looking for you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “You disappeared, and I...I missed you.”

JJ’s face flashed with anguish for a brief second, before he heaved a sigh. “You know the shit that happens at my house,” he said quietly. “What if you’d...what if you got hurt?”

Sniffling, you twisted in the seat to face him. “I don’t care, I had to see you--”

“I care, dammit! I fucking care if you get hurt or not,” he retorted angrily. You shrank back at the hostility in his tone, and when he saw your reaction JJ pressed a hand to his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to yell, it’s just...” His glazed over, as if with tears. “If anything had happened to you back there, if my dad had even laid a hand on you--”

Reaching out to touch his shoulder, you shook your head quickly. “But he didn’t, I’m fine.” When he didn’t look at you, you leaned closer and tried to meet his gaze. Finally he conceded, and watery blue eyes met yours. “Let me take you somewhere,” you begged. “You need to be cleaned up, see if you should go to the hospital.”

JJ tensed. “I’m not going to any damn hospital, Y/N.”

Worried he’d get angry again, you rubbed his arm soothingly and smiled. “Okay, no hospital. Just please let me take care of you?” JJ leaned back against the seat, struggling to breathe normally. After a second, he finally nodded, and you started up the car.

Thankfully your mother had chosen this week to go out of town. It had been nice having the house to yourself, and now especially you were grateful to be alone when you walked through the front door. Holding JJ’s hand, you led him upstairs into the bathroom and had him lean against the counter.

Finding what little first-aid materials you had, you joined him in the bathroom and shut the door. Rifling through the box you found only a couple band-aids and some disinfectant. Biting your lip, you grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink. JJ watched your actions closely, arms folded in a guarded position to protect himself. Your heart ached at the thought of him in pain, and you had to force tears out of your eyes a few times.

“Look at me,” you instructed softly, trying to compose yourself when his blue eyes turned to you. You focused on his cuts, gently touching the wet washcloth to the wounds. JJ winced when you made contact, and you placed a hand on his thigh to calm him down. Working slowly and methodically, you cleared off most of the blood from his face, still horrified by the purple bruises that remained on the skin.

A particularly deep cut on his eyebrow refused to stop bleeding, and you moved to press the washcloth to the wound. But JJ resisted, ducking away from you.

“You don’t need to clean me up like a child, Y/N,” he growled, making you press your lips together in a thin line.

“I’m not,” you answered plainly. “Please, just hold still.” He complied, and you pressed the cloth to his eyebrow. JJ hissed at the pain, and you held back a grimace. The thought of you hurting him devastated you, but you also knew he needed to be cleaned up.

JJ was refusing to meet your eyes at this point, anger practically rolling off of him. It was hard to breathe in such a small space, and you found yourself getting lightheaded after a while. When JJ’s eyebrow stopped bleeding, you decided it was time to move on.

“Okay, take your shirt off.” You needed to inspect the bruises there to make sure he didn’t have a broken rib or internal bleed.

But JJ wasn’t having it, and he jumped off the counter. “No way, we’re done here. I’ve got shit to do.” He went to leave, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait, please!” He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Please, JJ. Let me help you. I just...I want to know what happened, and what I can do to make it better.”

Finally he faced you again. A thousand emotions sparked behind his eyes, and he clenched his teeth to fight off emotion. “Why? Why do you care?”

Parting your lips, you said, “Because you’re my best friend.”

He winced, and panic flared in your chest. “Best friends,” he echoed, sounding hollow and uncaring.

Panic flared in your chest, and you grabbed his hands. “More than best friends, JJ. I--” You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know if you could handle rejection right now. JJ’s expression changed when he heard you start speaking, but when you stuttered his brow lowered over his eyes.

“You kissed Rafe, Y/N,” he reminded you, causing you to sigh.

“I didn’t,” you forced, hoping he actually understood. “I know what it looked like, but I promise you, I did not want to kiss him.”

A few seconds passed, his expression still furious. “You mean that bastard kissed you without permission?” At your slight nod, he huffed. “I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands--”

“No, no, JJ!” you quickly interrupted, stepping closer so you could press your hands to his chest. “Don’t kill anyone, not for me.”

Gazing down at you, he lifted a hand to rest on the side of your neck, igniting sparks where his fingers fell. “For you, I’d do anything,” he whispered, and your heart flipped.

But then you frowned. “What about the girl from the party? The Kook?” It hurt just to mention her, and the guilt that flashed across JJ’s face only hurt you more.

“She was...nothing. She meant nothing,” he explained, willing you to understand with his eyes. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.” His hand on your neck moved up to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. “The whole time I was with her I was...thinking of someone else.”

Your heart stopped beating. “S-someone else?” There was no oxygen left in the room at this point.

JJ brought another hand over so he was cradling your face, looking deeper into your eyes than he ever had before.

“You.”

Once the word left his mouth that was it. You grabbed his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the fervor you’d had stored up in you for weeks.

After imagining this very moment for so long, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. JJ’s lips fit yours like a glove, and the taste was something you would never get over. He was warm and firm in all the right places, and his body reacted to yours like you’d been in sync for your whole life.

You were careful to avoid his injuries, your hands gentle on his chest and your mouth light by his busted lip. Despite how delicate he was in this moment, JJ didn’t let this inhibit his passion as he kissed you with a wild vigor.

His fingers wound through your hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a moan from your throat. The sound must have turned him on, because JJ exhaled deeply. His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently as his hands pulled at your hair again. His back was up against the door, and your hand slithered out to grab the handle.

A smirk played across his mouth as you stumbled into the hallway. “Going somewhere?” he murmured into your ear, breath washing over the shell causing you to shiver.

“Trying to find a bed,” you purred, and his eyes darkened at the words. You pushed him towards your bedroom, closing the door behind you as he fell back onto the bed. You wasted no time in straddling his hips, legs on either side of his thighs as you kissed his lips fervently.

Disconnecting your mouths for a brief second, you pulled your shit over your head, tossing it onto the floor and gazing down at JJ as he took in your bare chest. His hands slowly slid up your torso, igniting fire where his fingers touched, until he reached your breasts and you sucked in a breath. He kneaded your breasts, thumb swiping over your hardening nipples. JJ leaned up to press his lips to your skin, swirling his tongue around your nipple and making more moans of pleasure echo through the room.

“JJ,” you whined as you felt his teeth on your sensitive bud, hands wrapped in his blond locks. As he focused on your chest you expertly slid off your shorts, panties going along with them, and settled with your exposed core on his thigh. He felt your heat there and growled, the sound low and sexy in his throat. You kissed up his neck until you found a sweet spot that had his hips bucking, and as you nibbled at his sensitive skin you began to grind against his thigh.

“Holy shit--” he stuttered, hand skimming down your naked back to guide your hips. You giggled into his collarbone, swiping your tongue across his glistening skin.

Tired of the layers still shielding his body from you, you sat back and started lifting his shirt. Once the fabric was tossed onto the floor, you glanced down and gasped at what you saw.

If the bruises on his face were bad, the ones on his body were a hundred times worse. They were huge and the deepest purple color you’d ever seen, littering his ribcage and abdomen. You could practically feel them aching just by looking at them, and suddenly you were afraid to touch him.

JJ sensed the horror you felt, and shifted so he was leaning back on his elbows. “Y/N,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m fine, please don’t cry.” But you couldn’t help the tears flowing in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine how someone--how his own father--could do this. How could one person inflict so much damage, and on someone so pure and good? Your entire body ached for JJ, and for the little boy who never knew love from his own dad.

You felt his hand on your cheek, and you melted into his touch. Sniffling, your lower lip trembled as you slowly came forward, hovering above his torso. And then, with the lightest of touches, you kissed his bruises. Your lips were feather-light against his damaged skin, careful not to hurt him as you moved across his ribs. JJ’s breathing was shaky as your fingers ghosted across the bruises, trying to heal him with your loving touch.

Once you’d finished kissing each one, you brought your lips to his. This kiss was different than the one before; it was soft, and full of so much emotion you could barely contain it. JJ held you close to him despite the bruises, and you craved his touch just the same.

Foreheads tilting together, your eyes met in the darkness. “Y/N,” he began, threading through your hair and stroking down your neck. Anticipation for his next words nearly killed you as you held his gaze.

“I love you.”

A tearful smile breaking out across your face, you chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you too, JJ.”

That was all it took to reignite the heated passion from before. All gentleness from your moment with his bruises was gone, replaced by an intense desire for one another. JJ flipped you over so he was on top of you, and you bit your lip as you watched him slide off his shorts. His cock sprang free from the restrictions of his boxers, hard and stiff as it slid against your thigh.

Reaching a hand out, you gripped his shaft and earned a hiss from JJ. When your hand started moving up and down, his breathing all but stopped, eyes shutting as he let the pleasure take over. Your hand worked slowly but expertly, fingers working his swollen tip and collecting the precum there. Your thumb circled his slit, and this caused JJ to jerk in your hand.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned, giving you a sloppy kiss. “You better stop doing that or this is gonna be over real quick.” Smiling devilishly, you met his lips in a feverish kiss and let go off his cock. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and surely leaving marks.

JJ’s hand drifted down your abdomen, nearing the place you were desperately aching for him. When his index finger dragged up your core, you suppressed a moan and rolled your eyes back, feeling bliss explode in your stomach. He traced your entrance carefully, teasing your folds in a way that made your thighs shake.

Sensing you were holding back, JJ kissed your neck and instructed, “Moan for me, baby.” His seductive tone was too much for you, and a string of moans left your lips. His finger finally dipped into you, curling against your walls and spreading heat through your body. JJ’s movements were intoxicating, and he knew just where to touch you and how to do it. His thumb pressed against your clit, making you cry out, and then he circled the bundle of nerves. The stimulation was overwhelming, and your hands fisted the sheets to try to hold you to reality.

JJ added another finger inside of you, pumping faster now. In combination with his thumb on your clit, you knew you were done for when the tight ball in your abdomen exploded into a million sparks. Your orgasm fizzled through your nerves, and your cries became louder as they pierced the quiet air.

“God, JJ,” you breathed, gripping his shoulder for support. He grinned above you, shifting his hips so they aligned with yours. You felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding through the slick folds and running over your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asked you quietly, hand affectionately running through your hair before resting on your cheek. You leaned into him, nodding with the smallest of smiles on your face.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one swift motion, JJ pushed inside of you. The initial stretch nearly took your breath away, and it took a minute to adjust to his size. He filled you up entirely, hitting every sensitive spot you had. The stretch was deliciously searing, and as he began to move inside of you the feeling only intensified.

“You’re so tight,” JJ moaned, his thrusts slow and controlled. His hair fell over his eyes, lips parted in concentration. He looked strikingly beautiful in this moment, and you couldn’t believe he was actually yours.

You rested your hands above your head, and felt JJ wrap his fingers between yours. It was an intimate gesture that made your heart swoon, and you molded your lips against his with every emotion flooding between you.

His thrusts eventually picked up, and he hit even deeper inside of you. “JJ,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He grunted, using one hand to massage your breast. “Say my name again, Y/N,” he ordered, and you were glad to comply.

“JJ,” you moaned, arching your back while his hips rolled into you. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Fuck,” JJ swore, falling on top of you a little. He only had one arm to support his weight, and he used all of his energy to quicken his pace. His cock slammed deeper and deeper until you felt his balls slap against your skin, and when he hit a particularly good spot you saw stars dance across your vision.

“I’m close,” you panted, bringing a hand down to rub your clit. JJ let out a series of curses at this, clearly frenzied by your self-pleasuring. Your finger played with your clit as he pushed into you, lips brushing yours in a lazy kiss as the euphoria began to take over.

Your second orgasm was building to the breaking point, and with one last stroke you were done for. A second round of fireworks went off inside of you, and your walls instinctively clenched around JJ’s cock. He let out a loud groan at this, clearly close to finishing as well. He thrust a few more times before finally pulling out, a spurt of white liquid flying out onto your stomach.

Senses blurred by pleasure, you reached out to grab his cock and work him down from his high. JJ’s moans echoed in your ears, his voice like a beautiful symphony you’d replay over and over. When you could finally breathe steadily again, you placed your hands above your head, just soaking in the euphoric after-effects of the orgasm.

JJ reached out onto the floor and grabbed his shirt, using it to clean up your skin. He smiled down at you, blue eyes sparkling with residual lust and something else. Love.

Collapsing beside you, JJ pulled the blankets up to cover your naked bodies, cocooning you in warmth and privacy. In this moment, you were the only two people on earth. When he looked at you, it was like nothing else in the universe existed. You shifted forward until your foreheads were pressed together, breathing in each other’s scent.

JJ’s fingers lazily brushed across your cheek, and you pursed your lips to kiss the tip of his nose. He smiled at this, throwing a hand over your waist to haul your body into his. Now you were pressed together in every way, chest to chest and heart to heart.

He studied your eyes, looking straight into your soul. “I love you,” he said again, almost like a reminder. As if you could ever forget he said those amazing words.

“I love you,” you answered, grinning softly. JJ chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He said it again, making you laugh. So you said it again, and again and again. You would never stop telling him you loved him, and neither would he.

He was yours and you were his; finally.

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