#to break their “rule” (them faking their deaths to keep family from getting involved)

[desktopmermaid]

Ummmm doting grandparents? Peepee and Mimi? Kimmy MUST BE SPOILED FROM ALL ANGLES! Lol

OMMMG THATS never crossed my mind actually. They never actually get to meet sadly :disappointed: but I wanted to draw a “what if” scenario cos I thought it was funny

[baylardo]

ive been revamping some old headworld Tenebres OCs of mine recently :) their little story revolves around a prestigious magic school that outcasts all of them in different ways.

ethel and juneau (the older ladies) were both once professors and colleagues. ethel taught potionmaking (she’s unsurprisingly a marvelous cook) and juneau excelled everything about in curses (very big on puzzles). juneau was disapproved of for her unconventional methods when it came to cursebreaking which mostly involved inflicting herself with the curses she was trying to break. through enough exposure to that practice in addition to likely a few curses she could never resolve, she now sometimes turns into a mindless beast. consequently shes a risk to students so she got kicked out. after getting fired she takes up being a plague doctor as an occupation which involves cleaning up magic breaches in addition to the stuff shes already good at which is curse removals, just without the funding of her school. its a pretty isolated job so whenever her monsterous side comes out, there arent too many people at risk. she lives in a lil unkempt hermit shack.

ethel was a bit more “by the book,” more of a rule follower, tended never to deviate from standard practice. she never liked or respected juneau and was rather relieved when she finally left, thinking her colleague to be quite the liability to the school. ethel’s field of magic in potions comes with its own different yet similar risks however. and while experimenting with some of her own new concoctions, something went wrong and she began turning into a monster herself. i think with her affliction it’d start as a small blemish that she keeps trying to magically remove/repair and she keeps making it worse which makes her frantic and keep trying fix things until she becomes this irreparable and permanent monster herself. and unwilling to face the same humiliation and rejection as her colleague, ethel fakes her death, making it seem like she died in a chemical explosion of her own making, and flees lol. eventually she seeks out juneau and the two become reluctant roommates in the shack juneau lives in.

and then Agnes the young one was a student whod worked very hard to make it into the school, probably doesnt come from a well-known family or anything but shes top of her class and has high hopes for her future, but one day during an exam in front of her peers and professors it comes to light that she’s (unbeknownst to herself) a familiar as she starts turning into a rabbit. shes expelled on the grounds that she hid her condition and familiars are not allowed to pursue such high forms of magic. in her determination to not fail and still achieve the status shes wanted all her life, she tries to seek out any mage who will teach a familiar any magic. eventually she finds juneau (and ethel by proxy) and the two reluctantly decide to take the familiar girl on as a student.

[ace-mob-boss]

So I have these kind of like. Delusions idk, like, I see monsters both of my own making and fictional game shit and whenever I'm alone for the most part, but occasionally even if someone's in the room asleep with me I can see this shit so vividly but at the same time not at all

Like. I also know it's fake. I'm a very logical person at heart and I KNOW it's fake but it's so hard to just know it because it's not even regular zombie kinda shit. It's like recently its been banbans play house or wtv the fuck it is but I've mainly been seeing the white one peek up places, the bird basically behind my eyelids, the red one jump scares(using jump scares vaguely because its kimda just like, lying in wait for me without doing something but yheres an underlying dangerous intent) the intent to kill and the blue one crawls on the ceiling and tries to eat me, basically just like in game.

It's just been getting worse and worse, but my own monsters are semi worse even though when I have the banban shit I don't see them as often. And there's one that's conditional that only shows up when I'm at my aunts house that's like. This homeless man and I really can't with this shit. It makes my hair stand on end and I wanna shake my hands and scream and everytime I run to my room after turning all the lights off in the house, especially if my door was open, I have to scan all the corners of my room and bed to see if SOMETHING is there.

I really just don't know how to deal with it. Like, especially because some of them are just really tall and lanky and murky black masses with maybe just eyes or just teeth but some just hover behind me waiting and others crawl on the ceilings waiting. They show up most often when I'm washing the dishes alone and everyone else in the house is asleep. I just. It's so hard cus there's so many things that are just different about me nd I can't bro. I also feel like such a pick me whenever I try to bring it up cus It makes me feel like i made it all up but I DIDNT. And I really just don't know what to do.

If I think about it it's always been like this. When I was smaller I use to see them but they were more rule based and I ONLY saw them when I was trying to go to bed. I remember all of yjem and they sound silly to people but they truly scared me.

I have vivid nightmares surprisingly as well, they're not od the monsters I actually SEE though. They're still made up but they often involve people who are close to me in REAL LIFE and I always die. Since I was at least 6. I use to play plants VS zombies and I had to stop because I'd have such vivid dreams of them breaking into my house, killing my family and id either get caught alive and be eaten alive after being bum rushed or I'd starve to death under my bed. And there are some other ones from my dreams and they sound so STUPID.

IVe only had such bad dreams on scales like that like two or three times since the beginning of 2022 now but they're so vivid and undeniably scary. I ponder if it's schizophrenia but I just don't know and I don't want to sound crazy or be treated like a liar or a pick me. I just wanna be able to be in my house alone and relax yhe whole time without trying to keep my self occupied for as long as possible before the monsters show up or I start thinking that they're there. Can it even count as schizophrenia if I know the delusions are fake?

[lee--felix]

Foxhound | Masterlist |

Pairing: Jeongin x gn!reader Word Count: 3.3k Genre: Fake relationship, Mafia au Warnings: Mention of drug use, weapons / use of guns, slightly suggestive themes, use of pet name (sweetheart, darling), literally one curse word, brief mention of y/n wearing a dress, implied death of unnamed characters, very slight yandere behavior if you're really looking for it, let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: Your job was simple - flirt your way into his life, figure out who was leaking information to the mafia, and get out before anyone figured out who you were. But it's never that simple, is it? Sometimes plans go awry and feelings get involved. Don't worry, you'll learn soon enough that nobody messes with the baby of the family and gets away with it, even if he has to deliver that message himself. A/n: I... apparently have a thing for dark Jeongin and I didn't know until the moment I started writing this. I might make a series with each member based in this universe but it won't be anytime soon. If you have time to read, you have time to reblog. I mean that in the nicest way possible, because likes do not count towards the algorithm. background music: Motley Crew - Post Malone

It started with you twirling your hair at the bar, your eyes meeting with the elusive fox boy as he approached you, unable to resist you on his only opportunity to be free. Rarely did they let the mafia's prized youngest member out to play, instead keeping him locked up and heavily protected as he kept track of supplies. The drug trade was controlled entirely by the mafia in this city... that was, until your organization moved in. You had been undermining them for years, siphoning their profits and nearly running them out. But where there's cash, there's always rats.

That's where you came in. You were tasked with infiltrating the walls of the mafia, getting just far enough inside to sniff out the rat and bring them to their fate. The mafia had grasped control once again and your organization was running out of resources, but you were going straight to the source. Nobody would know the inner secrets better than the man that never gets to see the light of day, save for the rare celebration of a marriage or an important birthday within the family. It just so happened to be his birthday that night.

It started with 'can I buy you a drink?', a hand on your thigh as he leaned over the bar to order it for you, fingers tracing up your skin and playing with the hem of your dress. Drinks became shots as bodies became tangled, his composure slipping through his fingers as you teased your breath on his neck and promised him you would be the best thing that ever happened to him. You never thought it could be that easy, but rarely was anything as easy as it seemed at first.

That's how you ended up in his bed, your head aching and memory a bit foggy as you awoke. When he stirred and rolled over, opening one eye to take in your beauty before exhaustion overtook him once more, he mumbled something that surprised you. 'You're more than welcome to stay.' You needed no further convincing, you had breached the wall with minimal effort and you were sure everything would go smoothly from here. And for the most part, everything did... until there was a slight problem.

It started when your heart would mysteriously skip a beat or two after he would put his arm around you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You figured it was just the occasional cocaine use, known to cause heart palpitations, especially in people that weren't regular users. But you really only did it every once in a while, the few occasions when Jeongin could get away with pulling it from the inventory. You brushed it off, too wrapped up in how smoothly this mission was going. In a few short weeks you had him wrapped around your finger, head over heels, and willing to break every rule just to have you tell him you love him. You can only say 'I love you' with feigned sincerity for so long until it starts to become a reality, though.

That's when you realized he was doing the same to you, hand on your throat as he kissed up your neck and drove your senses wild. For someone with no experience, he knew how to press every button that wiped your mind clean of logical thought. Mission? What mission? You had only come home once since that night, your organization pressuring you to get the information and get out. It was only a matter of time before someone recognized your facial features and associated you with your brother, a major annoyance to the mafia. You assured them you were on the verge of getting the information, but you knew it was a lie. You had long forgotten what your original intentions were as you got lost in the intoxicating allure of Jeongin's luxurious life. What had become of you? You were supposed to chase the fox out of his den and instead you were sleeping alongside him.

-----

Now here you were, your brother approaching you at the bar and your eyes going wide as you realized who it was. He was putting this entire plan in danger, not to mention yourself, but he had the audacity to act like you were the problem. Frantically trying to shoo him away before Jeongin returned, he refused to budge as you scrambled for an explanation. As much as you understood that he was concerned for your safety, he was doing the opposite of helping.

"You're going to blow this whole thing if you don't get out of here. You could get me killed!" You hissed under your breath, but your warning was already too late. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jeongin approaching with an angered expression. Your brother reached out to grab your arm but was met with a gun to his head, the young fox hovering his finger over the trigger as he pushed you behind him.

"You have quite the nerve showing your face around here, not to mention trying to touch things that don't belong to you." His stern voice was a stark contrast to his soft and gentle nature with you. You often forgot that, despite the way he let his guard down around you, he was still mafia royalty. He wasn't one to mess with by any means.

The scene was beginning to attract attention, other members tensing as they watched the situation closely. You knew if your brother tried anything, he'd have the majority of this nightclub at his throat in the blink of an eye. The mafia didn't play around when it came to their precious baby, despite the fact that he was an adult and could easily defend himself. "Take whatever hounds you've dragged in with you and get out of my sight."

Your brother's face contorted in a way that had you fearing for his safety, knowing he wasn't one to take disrespect lying down. But as he assessed the situation, he quickly came to the realization that he was outnumbered. Putting his hands up, he turned to walk out the door and gestured for his friends to follow. He really thought he'd get away with this? Showing up with that many easily recognizable faces?

"Let's go home, sweetheart. I think I've had enough fun for one night." Jeongin's voice was back to its normal, cheery tone as he tucked the gun safely into the holster on the back of his belt. There was something odd and vaguely unsettling about his quick switch, but you thought nothing of it. Threats, guns, murder... these were all daily staples in this kind of life. It was entirely possible he could mentally disconnect himself from the darker parts and show a different side around you.

-----

There was a unique peacefulness about Jeongin at home. Once he could let go of the reputation he had to maintain, there was a soft and loving side to him that captivated you. Sitting up in bed, he watched with awe and admiration as you gently worked the knots out of your hair in the mirror. Your figure was hidden beneath the oversized t-shirt you chose to sleep in, but that wasn't what he intended to stare at in the first place. He always seemed to be so enamored with the smallest things you did, like the way you touched your hair or the fact that you held your coffee mug with both hands instead of one. Despite his happiness in the moment of watching you, his tenseness was strikingly obvious. He was stressed about something, and that was a frightening thought, considering he had kept his calm in more chaotic situations.

"What's wrong, Innie?" You cooed as you slipped into bed beside him, your hand resting on his bare chest and tracing circles into his skin. He reached to pull you closer, gently pushing your head to his chest as he held you tightly. His fingers ran slowly up and down your arm as he pondered his thoughts for a moment, unsure of his willingness to burden you with his problems.

"It's nothing, sweetheart. Don't worry about me." He tried his best to sound comforting, hoping to redirect your attention elsewhere before you pressed him with questions.

"It's my job to worry about you. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You sighed, pressing small kisses to his chest in the hopes that he'd relax enough to talk about. Sure enough, after a few minutes of you fussing over him, he decided to come clean.

"I'm just... concerned. The man that approached you at the bar, he's quite the dangerous enemy of ours. Instead of coming for me or anyone around me, he chose to come for you. That means he knows about you - about us." His grip on you tightened as you could feel your breath becoming shallow. "I fear that our little birdie has been passing information both ways."

"Little birdie?" You questioned, biting the inside of your cheek to steady your voice. You were so close to the information you needed that you could practically taste it, but you were in too deep now. You didn't want to know, because you didn't want to leave. You wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever and that terrified you. There was no way out now and it was your own fault.

"Hwang Hyunjin, are you familiar with him?"

"Can't say that I am." That was a flat out lie and you hoped it wasn't obvious. Hyunjin had been part of your organization for years, a hired hand with jobs ranging from picking up food to gathering intel. He was skilled in a variety of things, but it seemed like taking payments was the only one he was really interested in.

"Regardless, he's been spying on a rival organization for us. It seems he's gone a bit rogue, passing information both ways to whomever pays higher at the time." His eyes trailed upwards, focusing on the ceiling for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. "They tried to go after you in an attempt to draw me out... and that frightens me. I want nothing more than to keep you safe."

While the sentiment was sweet and you wanted to savor how that felt, it also meant that you were really trapped now. If you happened to just run off, Jeongin would come looking for you. There was no easy way out of this situation and you were cursing yourself for the mistake of letting feelings get involved. The only option you had was to bail out while he was asleep tonight, make sure Hyunjin's punishment was swift and effective, then lay low until the situation blew over.

"You take such good care of me, Innie. I don't deserve you." The words came out a little too sincere for your liking. It was true though, you really didn't deserve him, considering the reason you were here in the first place. "No sense in worrying about things tonight. I'm safe here in your arms, lets just get some sleep."

-----

[you] Pick me up by the nightclub, I'll be out there in a few minutes. You need to hurry. [brother] So who's the rat, then? And I'll be there soon. [you] Hyunjin, of course. Taking money from the mafia and running info both ways.

You had managed to slip out of bed without waking Jeongin, making your way downstairs as quickly as you could. Having your brother pick you up in the middle of mafia territory wasn't the safest option, but you needed out and quickly. Your brother would have Hyunjin secured before you could even get into the car and you would be the number one target as soon as the mafia caught wind of his capture.

Your brother had Hyunjin brought back to your house, knowing full well that you'd be able to get the truth out of him one way or another. Damage control was needed elsewhere, so for now your brother wasn't able to play along with your interrogation. It was on you to serve the punishment needed and you were more than willing to take your frustration and aching heart out on him. As much as you didn't want to leave Jeongin's side, business was business. Your safety would become more compromised the longer you stayed with him.

Upon entering the house, it was eerily quiet. You thought for sure you'd at least hear Hyunjin's dramatic complaints or one of the brutes shuffling about, checking the perimeter as they guarded against any retaliation. Instead you were met with nothing but silence as you made your way into the living room. The only light in the room was a single lamp in the corner, one that you didn't even know still worked, let alone ever used. Looking around, you realized there was no sign of anyone, not even the man that was supposed to be tied up and waiting here for you.

You heard a faint click, then the sound of music filled the room. Before you could turn to see who had turned on your sound system, you were wrestled to the floor by two very strong men dressed in all black. You squirmed and kicked, desperately flailing until you realized that you weren't going anywhere. Someone had intercepted your crew on their way here, no doubt bailing Hyunjin out of trouble and setting up a sting. Betrayal of the mafia was punishable by death. Your life flashed before your eyes as the men spun you around to meet the face of fate - more familiar than you would've liked it to be.

"What a shame, leaving without so much as a kiss goodbye." There stood Jeongin, a baseball bat in hand as he gave a knowing smirk. The men forced you to your feet, their grip becoming so strong that you knew there would be bruises left behind. Your heart began to pound out of your chest, every inch of you begging for him to show mercy. He was the baby, after all. Perhaps he could see reason.

A swift swing of the bat and your TV was in pieces, a sign that there was going to be quite the show before your inevitable demise. Swaying to the music as he roamed, Jeongin wildly swung the bat around, destroying everything in its path. Your prized collection of glass figurines were shattered, their remains falling onto the floor as he laughed. Your mothers ashes went flying into the air as they were thrown against the wall, the picture of her now covered in broken pieces of ceramic.

"Innie, please!" You begged, screaming above the music as it grew louder. If you could tug at his heartstrings a little, you were sure you could get him to buckle. "My handsome little fox, there's been a misunderstanding. I-"

"No! There's no lying your way out of this. You brought it on yourself when you came into my territory." He sneered, taking a swing at the coffee table and smashing it to bits before you. "You think you can play to my empathy? Oh no, foxes bite back, sweetheart!" His voice rang out above the music and your screaming as you struggled against the grip of the men, your efforts clearly in vain. "Often they bite the very hounds sent to draw them out, sending them back with their tails between their legs." His tone was laced with venom, gaze zeroing in on you as you felt tears sting your eyes. Fear was taking over you and he knew it, he could smell it on you. Intoxicated by your terror, he pulled his gun from its holster, clicking the safety off as you held your breath. Another laugh of his filled the room followed by a gunshot and the sound of shattered glass. He had shot the window out, causing you to jump and squeeze your eyes shut.

"You think you're so clever, but it seems I'm always a few steps ahead of you." He discarded the bat against the wall for now, favoring the shiny weapon in his hand. "Hyunjin was never an information leak, in fact he's been working for us longer than you've even been around. Everything you've ever done has been completely under our control - an effort to get you to place your trust in Hyunjin. We knew if we foiled a few of your pathetic plans, you'd eventually come out of the woodwork." He looked over the weapon, his fingers tracing the curves of the metal as he spoke. "You thought I would be an easy target, hmm? Go after the baby of the family and bring it all out from underneath them?" His voice was growing louder and slightly rushed, eyes wide with delight in how well his plan had worked. "Why do you think I was at the nightclub with no muscle to protect me, darling? Do you think they just let me out to play without some kind of security? No... if you dangle a piece of meat out in the open, the hounds will come running."

The laughter was louder, darker, sending chills down your spine as he shot out two more windows before putting a few bullets into the wall beside you. By now you were a trembling mess, every limb shaking violently as you jumped at every gunshot and tears streamed down your face. As he made his way towards you, you held your breath. This was really the end, wasn't it?

He held the gun to your forehead, causing you to freeze in place. Your eyes crossed briefly as you stared at the barrel before gazing back up at him, his finger slipping to the trigger. He brought his face closer to yours, his breath warm on your cheek as he leaned down. He always did like to be in the splatter radius, it was like he got some sort of sick pleasure from it.

"Bang." He whispered, drawing the gun back and clicking the safety back on. A shrill laugh left him as he quickly stood up straight, continuing his waltz of destruction as the music played. Your eyes followed him around the room as he casually knocked a few more things onto the floor, kicking broken glass around and silently mouthing the words to a song. After a few minutes he circled back to you, eyes slightly clouded over and a sick grin on his face.

"You and your organization leave, tonight. Pack all of your shit up and get out. I don't want to see a single trace of any of you in the morning." Satisfied with his words, he grabbed up the bat that was leaning against the wall and gestured for his men to let you go. Dropping to the floor, you rubbed your aching arms as you croaked out the only thing on your mind.

"Why not just kill me?" Your voice was weak, barely audible as you tried to put your composure back together as quickly as possible.

"Because I loved you at one time, darling. My heart simply couldn't take it, I'm sure you understand." He placed a finger under your chin to push your face up, studying your features carefully for a moment before placing his lips on yours one last time. "But if I see your pretty face around here ever again, rest assured it won't be very pretty when I'm done with you." With that, he waved his men out the door and soon followed them, not giving even a single glance back at you.

Here you were, feeling like the dumbest person alive, outsmarted by a fox and their sly tricks. But at the same time, you were incredibly lucky. Nobody infiltrated the mafia and walked out alive, let alone their entire organization spared as well. Wait... your crew. What had they done to them to get Hyunjin back? Your heart raced once more as you looked at your phone that was now vibrating wildly as text messages were coming in rapid succession.

[brother] Oh god, they know. They knew all along. Get somewhere safe, we're not going to make it.

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[sundayswiththeilluminati]

Continued from this post, Part 3 of my discussion of Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage. This time: what happens to espionage assets in the long run? Do they break contact, and why? What might have been in store for Essek?

At the treaty meeting Essek tells Ludinus to his face that he wants no further contact with the Assembly, not even to learn what the Assembly discovers via their own beacon. He’s far from the first asset to try to sever their relationship, and it ends in one of three ways: they don’t manage to break contact, they break contact but voluntarily return, or (rarest of all) they end the relationship permanently. 

Most attempts don’t go beyond option 1, because intelligence agencies are not in the business of respecting their assets’ choices. Handlers are skilled in keeping the upper hand in their asset relationships and will take any further opportunity to gain leverage by compromising the asset. For instance they’ll often pay for information even if the asset hasn’t requested it, because money changing hands makes it far harder for an asset to frame their activities positively to their own side if they attempt to confess (”You expect us to believe they were blackmailing you when you got $10,000 to hand over the secret manual?” etc.) And when push comes to shove most people aren’t willing to accept the severe punishments for espionage. An asset’s threat to confess is more likely a negotiating ploy than a serious option.

Some assets, especially nervous or ego-driven ones, get the carrot: the KGB did a strong line in awarding secret medals to convince them they were doing important, well-regarded work and that the KGB would protect them - not an empty reassurance, as highly-placed moles like Aldrich Ames warranted elaborate ops involving double and triple agents to avert suspicions. And some assets get the stick: the handler tightens the screws using whatever leverage they’ve gained, implies that they’re already “too far in to go back,” or gives some time for those who were blackmailed into spying to think about the consequences of exposure.[1]

Those who get as far as option two, breaking it off and later returning, are usually driven away by fear but back by finances. Fantasy spies have all sorts of motives but in real life the majority are in it for the money. Assets, as you might imagine, make bad choices. About half start selling secrets just to stave off massive debt from overspending and poor financial decisions (the rest feel underpaid.) So even if these assets stop temporarily, the circumstances that drove them to espionage in the first place are still very much present. In these cases all a handler has to do is shrug and say, “You know where to find us.” Infamous FBI mole Robert Hanssen broke off contact with his Russian handlers when the Soviet Union collapsed, fearing he might get outed in the chaos, but linked back up with them just 10 months later when, surprise surprise, he needed some cash.

And then there are the rare handful who stop completely. There’s a bit of survivor(?) bias here because anyone who passes along secrets, breaks off the relationship before being caught, and manages to get away with it is by definition someone we don’t know about. Those who do manage to break contact long-term are usually able to do so because they left the situation that gave them access to interesting secrets and therefore the controlling agency determined they were no longer a useful resource and not worth pursuing. But even if an asset stops working for an agency, they’re far from forgotten - and far from off the hook. Names and evidence of their espionage would be kept on file for potential use as blackmail, leverage in state-to-state negotiations, or expendable material to prove bona fides in ops involving fake defectors or triple agents. A surprising number of spies are caught/outed years after their espionage ended.

Very few assets permanently sever their espionage relationships the hard way: making a genuine confession and accepting punishment. But it’s not unheard-of, especially if the espionage was brief and the asset believes the damage can be repaired. In 1989 Army signals analyst Michael Peri disappeared from his post in West Germany along with a portable computer containing numerous classified documents. Eleven days later he returned to his previous post with the computer and voluntarily confessed to the theft and sort-of defection to East Germany. When interrogated, Peri - who had been a model soldier until that point - said he felt overworked and underappreciated by his superiors, though he couldn’t entirely explain his decisions either to leave or to return (a sexy female Russian agent might also have been involved). He received a 30-year sentence.

Marine Clayton Lonetree, a guard stationed at the US Embassy in Moscow in 1985, was blackmailed over an affair to hand over details on the embassy compound for a year, but his conscience finally got the better of him and he confessed in late 1986. Being a Marine he faced the very real prospect of death by firing squad, but the court martial ended up giving him a 30-year sentence. It was later reduced to 15 after the Marine Corps Commandant wrote a letter to the Navy Secretary on his behalf attributing the young Marine’s actions not to treason or greed but to loneliness, naivety, and poor judgement.[2]

Going back to Essek’s case, he’s already in the minority of espionage assets because he doesn’t want money in return for the secrets he passes along; though the knowledge the Assembly promises him in return fulfills a similar desire, Essek doesn’t need that knowledge to pay off the equivalent of debt or to maintain his lifestyle. He has no pressures at home that force him to continue spying. With the beacons returned, the fall guys in place, and their tracks seemingly covered, he tells Ludinus that all he wants is to be rid of the entire affair. That rules out option one (he sincerely means to cut the Assembly off) and option two (he won’t be driven back by need.) 

Essek is also in an unusual position in that the worst of the damage he caused is repairable - just return the beacons.[3] A secret, once compromised, can’t be un-compromised. If an asset hands over a cipher machine they can’t fix the situation by stealing the cipher machine back; the foreign agency they sold it to has already studied the machine and learned its secrets, meaning it’s now effectively useless. But returning the beacons restores what the Kryn lost. While keeping dunamancy secret gives the Kryn a tactical edge, and I’m sure the Dynasty would prefer to keep the magical soulstones of their elite hidden from their long-time rival, the beacons don’t need to be secret to work. Essek therefore has a much better chance than most to simply repair the damage, cut off his handlers, and try to forget the whole affair ever happened. He might even think that, now that the Assembly has their own beacon, they’ll have no further use for him and will just leave him alone.

But from the Cerberus Assembly's perspective, this fruit still has plenty of juice in it and they risk nothing by continuing to squeeze. Now that they have their own beacon Essek’s knowledge becomes even more valuable. He has access to hundreds of years of dunamantic spellcrafting - and more importantly the rite of consecution, since the Assembly were probably after beacons in the first place to make themselves immortal. If Essek is caught, it’s treason for him, but the Assembly doesn’t suffer; they were doing it for the good of the Empire, learning about dunamancy to help the war effort. So if he refuses to keep spying voluntarily for the Assembly, they’ll just have to find another way to motivate him. 

As part of evaluating Essek before recruitment, Assembly operatives would have noted that he’s, well, highly motivated to save his own skin. Ludinus’ goal therefore becomes to make Essek see further espionage as the only way to stay alive. So instead of confronting Essek then and there, Ludinus shrugs and goes, “Okay. Sure.” Then he activates the Volstruckers, maybe leaks a little info to the Dynasty about a traitor in their midst, and sets up Essek to stew in fear, feeling isolated and attacked from both sides - targeted by the Assembly for his defiance, under suspicion from the Dynasty, unable to ask for help because of his crimes. Ludinus sits back and waits for Essek to re-establish contact on his own. Of course Ludinus didn’t know that the M9 had confronted Essek and gotten him to confess, making a return to spying impossible even if he tried.

While Essek’s motives revolve around ego, frustration, and rebellion, his situation is more like those of people who end up defecting because they’re unable to pursue their careers or live as they want to back home. He has virtually no social/family ties to leave behind, no loyalty to Dynasty authority, and no religious fervor to defend the Luxon, while the Assembly promises him the company of like minds and free rein in his experiments. Assuming no intervention by the M9 I think Essek would have ended up defecting to the Cerberus Assembly. If he did it early enough in the story he might have even joined the Volstruckers to complete the narrative foil transformation.

If the crew had confronted him at the treaty but not offered mercy I think he would have defected purely out of fear, thinking the Assembly were the only people who could protect him from both the Dynasty and the M9. He was already on edge watching the guy he'd set up to take the fall getting walked away in chains and with the Assembly's Wind of Aeons ship right there it would be the ideal time to make the move. Assuming the treaty confrontation went as it did (the crew makes him confess but lets him live) but the M9 hadn’t shown up in Eiselcross, Essek would likely have fled the outpost and gone into hiding in a bid to outrun his crimes (and probably gotten caught two weeks later given how awful he was at being “Dezrain Thane.”)

Essek is far from the first recruited asset to regret what they did even as they kept doing it. Those who can sell out their nation and not feel even a pang of guilt are thankfully thin on the ground. Most start off doing what seems to be a favor for a friend - or accepting a favor from a friend who wants to help with their “financial difficulties” - and end up so deep they can’t see any way forward other than to keep handing over secrets. He’s one more in a long line of those who compromised information out of frustration, especially through the appeal to shared professional interests (that’s how industrial assets tend to be recruited.)

But he’s also in a much better place to make up for it than most assets. Since he primarily compromised property, not secrets, returning said property can (somewhat, mostly) repair the damage done, which goes a long way towards buying leniency from the powers that be. And now I’m realizing that this post actually needs one final part, which is: how do you try someone for espionage, and should you charge them with it in the first place?

[1]  While spy dramas love sexy blackmail, and handlers will happily collect it to leverage against a balky asset, it works far less often in reality as a main reason for espionage. Social penalties for extramarital affairs pale before actual legal penalties like the death sentence for treason. On the other hand, those with foreign relatives are sometimes coerced by threats against those relatives.

[2]  Lonetree’s case for leniency got a boost in 1994 when Aldrich Ames was finally caught and some serious breaches of embassy security that had been attributed to Lonetree were found to be Ames’ work instead. In 1996 Lonetree was released after having served 9 years total.

[3] Although I did just think of a really messed-up Cerberus Assembly plan: consecute a handful of completely loyal Volstruckers, kill them, and send the beacons back so said agents will be reborn in the Dynasty and work to undermine it from within. How fucked up would that be?? Campaign 3 plot hook anyone?

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

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1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law

[cheegu3]

Hey there I was curious to see if you would write Stray Kids. If yes can you do yandere profiles for them. 🥺

Yess I love stray kids! some are shorter and some longer btw sorry for that

{Stray kids - Yandere profiles}

TW / Trigger Warning: yandere themes, violence, abusive relationships, mentions of suicide, blood, gaslighting/guilt-tripping

Bang Chan

yandere type: 50/50

50/50 aka unpredictable like IU. He can be happy and nice one second then insult you the next, it all depends on his mood. But it is hard to keep up with his mood since it changes over the smallest things and sometimes because of nothing at all. His punishments would mostly be sexual due to pent up sexual energy. He can be very possessive. You are his and he will let the whole world know this, he loves marking you and being very close in public.

Minho

yandere type: manipulative

Very manipulative. Will gaslight you and manipulate you extremely, to the point where you are broken. Like a robot who only does what its told and responds to commands, never speaks unless spoken to. This was how we wanted you. At first in your relationship, he will manipulate you by guilt-tripping you. Crying and making himself the victim in every situation but once you started to see through his ways, or rather your friends alarmed you. They said something was off about him, how he recovered so quickly after having a ‘’ mental-breakdown ‘’. So you started to inspect him and soon figured out he was faking it to gain sympathy. It was at this point that he would approach you differently, and you relationship differently, perhaps violently.

Changbin

yandere type: violent

Extremely violent. A temper like no other. Not like Chan, he is instead violent and scary every day. You are constantly flipping him off but he does like that you’re afraid of him. The fear gives him a rush and in some weird twisted way he loves you, a lot. Definitely has problems with showing affection but the longer you’re with him (without causing trouble) the more lenient and soft he will become towards you. Has plans to marry you and make you his forever and ever. He will 100% scare you away because of how violent he is but this will only make him angrier. You pushing him away will enrage him, leading to a few family deaths maybe...

Hyunjin

yandere type: psycho

Loves playing with you, similar to Soojin he loves degrading and making you as embarrassed as possible. It can involve him making comments to ruin your ego and boost his, and as soon as he says that comment you have two choices, he wins on either one. You keep your mouth shut or you talk back and get punished. That was one of his many rules, don’t talk back, don’t upset him, don’t disrespect him, let him punish you when he’s bored etc...He knows that he needs help or well, he doesn’t really care that he’s a psycho because he is convinced that you are different from his other playthings, he loves you. I guess bullying you is a way to show affection and assert dominance for him. May I add you will NEVER ever be on top, in the bedroom and otherwise.

Han jisung

yandere type: obsessed, controlling & slight sadist

A complicated yandere. He responds to everything based on how you treat him, say or do. So if you basically let him do his thing and be clingy with you, he will just be obsessed but it wouldn’t be too obvious. You start to pull away you get kidnapped. You try to fight him and run away, he will lock you up. There’s no limits to what this man can do to make sure you are by his side. He only realizes his sadistic side when he is punishing you and weirdly gets turned on by it. He loved the way you’d look up at him, pleading with your eyes for him to stop. He loved to be needed by you, this is why you should never push him away.

Felix

yandere type: stalker

ahh the stalker of the group. He sees nothing wrong with it and only, well not only because he actually enjoys stalking you, but also because he wants to get to know you before he approaches you. He knows all your favorite movies, music, clothes and celebrities. Will even go so far as to break in and hide, just watching you sleep or taking things. He knows your code and there’s no way of escaping him now. If you do not fall for him quickly he won’t hesitate to use force or blackmail you.

Seungmin

yandere type: sweetheart

A sweetheart who will only be mad if he develops into the protective type and people hurt you in one way or another. He only wants you to be happy and will do anything for you. This can go overboard though if you don’t return his love and affections. Seungmin will do anything to make you notice him, and I mean ANYTHING. He knows you have a big heart so he will even pretend that he’s gonna commit suicide just to have you save him last minute.

Jeongin (I.N)

yandere type: delusional

He’s convinced that you’re in love with him. That you want to be with him forever and ever and you just haven’t said it yet. Perhaps you needed encouragement..if he kidnaps you it’s to help you show it quicker and if you’re cold to him when he does it, he shrugs it off, you’re just nervous. If you turn him down, you’ve been brainwashed and your friends must go. There was no way of winning with him and you’d never be safe.

[artzychic27]

Artist Family 1991 movie?

All is more sullen than usual for the Artists. It’s the third anniversary of Rose’s disappearance

Juleka: *Solemnly staring at Rose’s empty room* Think of it That. For years we’ve attempted to contact Rose in the Great Beyond. And for years… Nothing.

Ever since Rose’s disappearance, Juleka has been looking through her spell books for other ways to contact her, but just can seem to find anything

For Marinette, she tries to cope the only way she knows how… Through torture.

Alix: *Tied up: Screaming through her binds*

Marinette: *Aiming an arrow at Alix* Don’t be a baby. I know what I’m doing.

Marc is more unhappy than usual… And it gets Nathaniel in the mood.

Nathaniel: *Watching Marc sleep* Look at him. I would die for him. I would kill for him… Either way, what bliss. *Marc wakes up* Unhappy, darling?

Marc: Oh, yes. Yes, completely. Nathan... The sun. Me atraviesa como un puñal.

Nathaniel: Oh, monochrome. That's Spanish.

Marc: Si.

Nathaniel: *Grabs a bucket of black paint and splatters it all over the window*

Marc: Mi amor... Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me… Do it again.

Also, their neighbor, a well-respected judge, hates them because Marinette can’t keep her flaming arrows on the Artists’ property. Why does this matter? You’ll soon see.

Nathaniel: *Playing chess with Juleka while Marc snips the buds off of roses* It’s a milestone, Marc. It’ll be our third séance. All those years, gnawed by guilt, undone by woe, burning with uncertainty.

Marc: Nathaniel, don’t torture yourself… That’s my job around here. But, imagine if Rose did return. Half alive, barley human, a rotting shell.

Juleka: *Sighs* That’d be a sight.

Unbeknownst to everyone (Except Félix), Juleka has a crush on Rose.

Later, the Artists’ lawyer, Cecil and his wife Bridgette arrive to ask for a loan. (Wow. Asking for a loan from teenagers? Yeesh.) Why? Because they owe a loan shark.

Bridgette: Why did I marry you?

Cecil: Because I said yes!

While Cecil tries to work out a deal with Nathaniel, Bridgette collects expensive looking items for a charity auction from Juleka, Marc, and Félix

Marc: *As Félix pulls body bags out of a closet* Uncle Niknak's winter wardrobe. Uncle Niknak's summer wardrobe… Uncle Niknak.

Nathaniel: ‘The Rose Artist Off-Shore Retirement Fund’?… A tribute to thee. Some called her inhumanly evil.

Cecil: No!

Nathaniel: Only her parents before she fled her home.

And they make a deal… But…

Nathaniel: It’s going to have to wait, you know the rules better than that. Old business is old business and new business is new business. And this is new business and we do not discuss new business until… The next quarter.

After an unsuccessful attempt at stabbing Nathaniel with one of the many swords in the house, Cecil gives up until Nathaniel mentions going to get money for the monthly expenses from the vault

Meanwhile, Marc shows Bridgette a golden finger trap from the court of Emperor Wu

Bridgette: *Trying to not pocket it and run off* Oh, Marc, this is too extravagant, even for the auction.

Juleka: Let’s keep it.

Marc: Juleka, it’s for charity. *Bridgette gets her fingers trapped* Widows and orphans. We need more of them… Bridgette, about the séance tonight, why don’t you come? It's Nathaniel I'm terribly worried about. He won't eat, he can't sleep, he keeps coughing up blood.

Bridgette: He coughs up blood?

Marc: Well, not like he used to...

Cecil returns to his office with a suitcase full of doubloons from the Artists’ account, no knowledge of how to get the vault open, and in his office is Ms. Craven, a loan shark and her familiar-looking daughter, Willow

After some intimidation from Willow, Cecil gets an idea of how to repay Ms. Craven the money he owes her when he sees how similar she looks to Rose

There’s thunder and lightning on the night of the séance. Perfect weather

Marc: Marinette, Alix, put down that antenna, and come inside.

With their plan in place, Cecil and Bridgette arrive

Bridgette: *Shows Marinette the finger trap still on her fingers* Could you help me? *Marinette removes it with ease*

Marinette: Push, do not pull.

Marc: *With everyone seated around the table for the séance* Harken all souls. Every year on this date, we offer a clarion call to Rose Artist… Alix, drop the cleaver.

Marinette: *Sees Alix aiming the cleaver at her* Stop it.

Marc: From generation to generation, our beacon to the beyond. All close eyes and join hands.

After a practical joke on Bridgette involving That, the séance continues.

Marinette: Let us ransom you from the power of the grave. Tonight, oh Death, let us be your plague.

Juleka: Rose Artist, ceoli couris, ferimani bo… She’s near. *Félix plays a dramatic sting on his organ* Rose! Gather your strength! And knock three times! *One knock… Two… Three*

Nathaniel: She’s at the door!

That quickly goes to unlock the front door. And there, much to the Artists’ disbelief and joy is Rose… Or so they think. And there with her is Ms. Craven, posing as a psychiatrist named Dr. Schloss

Ms. Craven makes up some story about how “Rose” was found in Miami, tangled up in a tuna net. There were psychological tests, and a bunch of crap.

Nathaniel: And now she’s back.

Rose: At least for a week. I’ve got things to do back at the Bermuda Triangle.

Marc: *Sighs* Oh, the Bermuda Triangle./ Nathaniel: The Devil’s Island./ Marc: The Black Hole of Calcutta

Nathaniel: Pardon me for a moment. *Kisses up and down Marc’s arm* Our fifth date.

Marinette: No one escapes the Bermuda Triangle. Not even for a vacation. Everyone knows that.

Any attempts Willow tries at getting a good night’s sleep, it doesn’t work because The floors are constantly creaking, Marinette and Alix keep staring at her from down the hall, and That keep sneaking up on her which causes her to scream.

Nathaniel: … My dear friend. I’ve got goosebumps./ Marc: I know./ Nathaniel: Screams in the night. It can only mean one thing./ Marc: She’s home.

The next morning, Marinette and Alix suspect something is up with “Rose”. Meanwhile, Nathaniel takes “Rose” to the vault

Alix: *As Marinette warms up the electric chair* Do you think that’s really Rose?

Marinette: Nathaniel and Juleka seem to think so. But I think Marc isn’t sure. Now let’s a play a game. Sit in the chair.

Alix: What game?

Marinette: ‘Want to meet God?’

And Nathaniel does take Rose down to the vault, via gondola in the catacombs of the Artist home, only this vault leads to a secret room… That also leads to the money vault when a certain vial of poison is lifted

During that time, while they’re down there, Nathaniel reveals to “Rose” that his jealousy over her catching the attention of conjoined twins Ali and Eli drove her off

~Meanwhile~ Alix: So, if that’s not Rose, then who is she?

Marinette: An imposter. Now give the chair a few more seconds to warm up./ Alix: Why?/ Marinette: So it Can kill you./ Alix: I knew that.

~Later at the charity auction ~

Auctioneer: *Presenting the finger trap on Bridgette’s fingers again* This piece is encrusted with rubies and 15 emerald chips. It was donated by Marc and Nathaniel Artist. Remember, over half our proceeds will benefit the elderly and the mentally disabled. The bidding starts at $5000.

Nathaniel: Five, hah! Not good enough. $25,000!

Auctioneer: I have twenty.

Nathaniel: Twenty-five! *To Marc* Meyn Ziskeyt?

Auctioneer: Twenty five.

Marc: Thirty. *To Nathaniel* My howling demon.

Nathaniel: *voice cracks* Thirty-five!

Marc: Fifty!

Auctioneer: I have $50,000.

Marc: Your turn, my ecstasy.

Auctioneer: Fifty thousand going once, fifty thousand going twice. Sold to Marc Artists for fifty thousand dollars. *looks disgusted as Marc and Nathaniel obscenely make out*

They bought it back as a gift for “Rose”, but… She doesn’t know how to take it off! The Artists are now starting believe that she really is an imposter

Marc attempts to break “Rose” and get her to confess by taking her to the Artists’ cemetery where he reminds her of the credo

Marc: "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc." "We gladly feast on those who would subdue us." Not just pretty words… Rose. As an Artist, you understand completely.

“Rose”: … As an Artist, I do.

Seeing that everyone’s onto her, Willow calls Ms. Craven and has her pose as the psychiatrist to try and make the Artists none the wiser

Marc: Nathaniel, Juleka, why don’t you speak to Rose? She’s right outside the door.

Juleka: We would… If that were the real Rose.

Nathaniel: She’s an imposter! A charlatan! A sham! A counterfeit!

While wandering around the home, Rose sees Marinette and Alix sword fighting and practicing lines for something.

Ms. Craven successfully convinces the Artists that their reason for suspecting “Rose” is an imposter is due to displacement, and meanwhile, Rose helps Marinette and Alix out with their sword fighting scene for a play they’re in at school. A play she’s not allowed to attend but goes to anyway

Just a few minutes before the play, Mme. Bustier, asks Marc a question about Marinette.

Mme. Bustier: Now, the students did projects on their heroes. Alya Cesaire chose Lois Lane.

Marc: Have you spoken to her parents?

Mme. Bustier: And Marinette did her project on someone named Calpurnia Dupain.

Marc: Oh, her great aunt on her father’s side. She was burned as a witch in 1706. They say she danced naked in town square and enslaved a minister. *Unaware of Mme. Bustier’s horror.* Don’t worry, we told her university first.

And after so many horrible performances, comes the best one yet… Where Marinette and Alix splatter fake blood all over the audience.

Nino: … I suggested a evening in the park, but no. You wanted to see the performances.

Alya: *Spits out fake blood* Shut up.

Furious that her plans to get into the vault have failed since “Rose” decided to go to the play, Ms. Craven insists that “Rose” must leave again… But not before the Artists mark the occasion with a going away party where the entire Artist clan is invited.

Marc: *To Marinette who is dancing with Luka* Marinette, would you go check on Rose upstairs, please?

Marinette leaves (Not before kissing Luka) and overhears Willow and Ms. Craven going over their plan to break into the vault. She quickly runs to go get help.

Meanwhile, Cecil figures out a way to get rid of the Artists for good. And here’s where the judge comes in- He gets a restraining order agasint them so they can’t set foot on their property

After the party, the Artist family tries to find Marinette when they realize that she’s gone missing. But when they return with her, they find that they can’t get inside their own home. And when they attempt to appeal to the judge, he sends them away out of spite.

The Artists are now living in a motel. Nathaniel is in a state of depression knowing they’ve been betrayed, and Marc is just trying to keep Juleka, Marinette, and Alix from going crazy… Er.

Also, he gets a job as a kindergarten teacher’s assistant. Let’s see how that turns out.

Marc: And so the witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the candy house by promising them more sweets. And she told them to look in the oven. But, before she herself could push the children inside, Hansel pushed her, that poor defenseless elderly witch into the oven instead and burned her to a crisp as she writhed in agony… Now children. How do you think that feels? *The children cry* … Exactly.

That gets a job as a courier, and Marinette, Juleka, and Alix sell poison macarons.

Not able to stand the sight of his family in such a state, Marc returns to the Artists home to confront “Rose” only to be captured by Ms. Craven and Cecil. And unknown to Marc, That followed him.

Craven, Cecil, and Willow torture Marc so he can tell them how to access the vault means of torture, but he’s a total masochist and is loving every second of it

That returns to the motel and- through Morse code- tells the Artists that Marc’s been captured

Nathaniel: Mar... Marc... Marc? Marc is what? Slow down, That! It's terrible when you stutter!

*That starts tapping in Morse Code with a pen*

Nathaniel: Marc... in... danger... stop. Send... help... at once... STOP! *He runs out. That collapses*

Nathaniel arrives just before they can try and kill Marc, and engages in a sword fight with Cecil, which he gains the upper hand on, then loses when Ms. Craven has Marc at gun point. She forces him to show Willow the vault or she shoots Marc if they’re not back in an hour

Before Nathaniel can pull out the book that activates the secret door on the shelf, Willow pulls out a different book- A spellbook that projects It’s contents into reality and creates a storm. A bolt of lightning strikes Willow and launches Cecil and Craven out the window and into graves dug by Marinette, Alix, and Juleka

Alix: Are they dead?

Marinette: Does it matter?

Months later on Halloween, it’s revealed that Willow has been Rose all this time, and the story about the tuna net and the Bermuda Triangle were true. She just suffered from amnesia

Bridgette: *To Marinette* Dear, where’s your costume.

Marinette: This is my costume. I’m a homicidal maniac; they look just like everyone else.

While the others play a good game of ‘Wake The Dead’ Marc and Nathaniel stay behind because Marc has something to tell him.

Nathaniel: Monochrome, what is it?

Marc: I finally received a letter from my mothers, and… *Shows him an ultrasound photo* They said if it’s anything like me, they want us to have it.

Sequel

[honesthammie]

Prompt 39: Death wants you to be terrified. But the scariest thing is wanting death.

13th Doctor x female curvy reader

Warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughts, alcohol and drug abuse, domestic abuse, fat phobia

I'm sorry for this. Its really depressing and I've been hesitant on letting you guys see it but I kinda like how it's written. I've made the abuser gender neutral as females can also be abusive. I promise the next one will be much happier!

"Come on (y/n), you can make it! Just jump across and reach for my hand. I promise you won't fall." The Doctors voice echoes across the widening canyon. If you looked down, you would only see pitch black. You didn't know how long you'd fall. Maybe this would be the perfect time to just go for it. Its not like you'd matter, you're only slowing the team down as is.

They wouldn't even be in this mess if you didn't slip and hit the world shattering drill, turning it on full blast. Unfortunately, you smashed the button making it unable to turn it off. Of course the only way you'd be able to turn it off is to actually go towards it. Everyone in the room screamed at you and some raised their tentacles to attack you if the Doctor didn't step in front of you. You know the Doctor noticed you flinching and your eyes gloss over and noticed you bracing for the impact.

You learned over the years to just accept your fate. You can't run from anyone when you weighed this much. You couldn't hide either, which often left you to just accept what was coming and hope nothing broke. Bruises were always easy to cover and so were any cuts but broken bones, that was always on display and you'd have to break your number one rule: never lie. You hated lying. The truth always comes out anyway so why hide it? If you hide it, you get punished worse anyway so why bother?

If you jumped and actually went with the team, you'd get questioned about earlier and about hesitating at jumping. But if you fell, would the Doctor miss you? As much as you hated to admit it, you were absolutely in love with the adorable alien. Why did you hate to admit it? Because she was a goddess and you were a waste of skin and bones. You weren't skinny and you didn't fit in with the team at all. You were only here out of pity.

You remember when you first met the team. You were the only person alive when they searched underneath the hotel. Even the spiders didn't want you. You were at the hotel because you heard about killer spiders and you wanted an out. You could never do it or something would come up stopping you from ending all your misery. You were the complete opposite of the Doctor. She was so brave and said whatever she wanted and didn't really care for the consequences.

You focused on the Doctors sparkling eyes. Despite the situation, she still sparkled with hope and encouragement. She wasn't upset with you. You really wished she was. This would be such an easier decision to make. Your head was pounding and your heart was going faster than her two hearts. Did you even want her upset? You couldn't tell, your head was spinning wildly, one thought going to another without a chance to process the last one.

You had come to a clear decision. You ran back and let momentum do its thing as your feet left the muddy gravel. You felt so free as you glided in the air for a few seconds. It was the most beautiful feeling. No punishment, no tears before going to sleep and no terror of going back home. Just you and gravity.

Then with a clearer mind you regretted your choice. You were horrified. You weren't ready. It wasn't time yet. Graham can't lose you. He'd only recently lost his wife. He'd feel the same as you and that thought terrified you. He'd survived cancer and gained himself a new family. He can't be like you. Ryan needed him, wether he was willing to admit that or not.

Suddenly you panicked and last minute reached your hand out hoping you'd grab something. Anything. You felt a soft warm object and latched on for dear life. You were then lifted up and onto soil. You focused on your breathing a moment and waited for your heart to calm down. You looked up and saw what, or rather who, saved you. You shouldn't have been so surprised to see the Doctors worried face above yours. She gave you a questioning look, knowing the question, you nodded your head and she straightened herself and helped you up.

"That was great (n/n)! So brave of you! Let's go gang, we've gotta turn this drill off before it splits the planet in half!" She shouted as she ran forward, seemingly knowing the way. She didn't let go of your hand until you reached the drill about 10 minutes later. You couldn't help the blushthat formed on your cheeks. The Doctor quickly opened a panel on the side of the drill.

The drill was massive, bigger than the Eiffel Tower and that what was on surface level, it went down much deeper that it had reached halfway to the liquid nitrogen that ran in this cold planet where our magma centre would be. The drill itself was purple and spherical. The panel box was the size of a human head which was about the size of the civilisations sucker pads. Inside were 3 buttons and 1 lever. You needed to type the pattern that would gain the access to the drill and force stop. If it goes wrong, it speeds up rendering this planet uninhabitable.

You watched as the Doctor quickly typed the pattern in. Red,blue,red,red,red,blue,black,black,blue. That was the pattern she quickly pressed in and held the lever down for 10 seconds. Soon the drill came to a halt and the planet was peaceful once again. You all let out a sigh of relief as it stopped.

You made your way back to the chief of the race and explained that they should dismantle and never use that drill again unless they plan to empty the panet of everything it has within. He quickly agreed and the fam made their way back to the TARDIS.

As soon as tye TARDIS was parked on the edge of your solar system, you got into your comfy clothes ready to nap or maybe play a few games to slow your adrenaline until you were tired enough for a full nights rest. You played a few rounds of uno and some poker where you used some bits of metal instead of chips. Eventually everyone had left except you and the Doctor.

You made your way to the doors of the ship and settled down just watching the stars in front of you. If the sentient machine hadn't already been aware of your darkest thought, you would have jumped out there and been amongst them. Just floating eventually turning to nothing but bones drifting, maybe to never be found. All the sights you've seen and yet this is where you were the most impressed. This was your home, your galaxy and because of all the light pollution, you had never been fully aware of how many neighbours you had because you had been literally blind. This was only stuff captured and faked and now, it's forever in your mind.

You heard movement and a shuffle next you. You knew who it was because she was the only other person awake and you knew she was going to ask and not let it drop until you tell her truth. And you were going to give her it but that doesn't mean you were ready to do so but you had to, someone had to know. Maybe you wanted help or maybe just someone to listen and know everything making you mentally naked in front of them.

The Doctor waited a few moments. She was figuring out how to word it without sounding horrible. "Is everything alright at home?" She asked her voice laced with genuine concern. "Sorry if this sounds a bit abrupt but let me explain. You've been really weird lately. You hardly speak and when you its with as few words as possible, you keep going elsewhere mentally and Rassilion forbid anyone getting angry with you! I also noticed how you hesitated today when jumping and I saw your worry and panic when you jumped. I think I know but I can't help you if you don't at least tell me what is going on! And don't change the subject or anything, just answer me please. I lo-. I can't lose you too." Her voice raised a little as she panicked just speaking about it. Halfway through she grabbed both of your hands and continued her speech.

You looked deep into her eyes for any sign of a lie but there wasn't one. Just like at the canyon, her eyes showed nothing but love. Maybe you should tell her, just her. No Yaz, no Graham and no Ryan. Just you, The Doctor and the TARDIS. You looked away for a moment as you collected your thoughts. However, as you opened your mouth and tried to speak, you found no voice. You couldn't tell her about them. Lord knows what she's capable of. But you've been looking for an out for so damn long. Maybe this is it. She's your out, no death involved.

You walked towards a panel in the console and pushed your hands inside and focused. You focused on the worst time it happened. You concentrated on the fear and everything attached. You couldn't tell her, but you could show her. The TARDIS disappeared into the vortex but didn't seem so sure on landing. She was picking it all up, she felt everything you did and she did not like going. "Please baby girl, I need her to know. I need help but I can't tell her. She's my only out that doesn't involve death and that terrifies me! Please. I understand your hesitation but she needs to see." You spoke mentally to the sentient blue box. She made a sad sound as she gently landed in the moment.

The Doctor looked at you bewildered. Her eyes were wide and her mouth agape. You walked up to her and grabbed her hand reassuringly. You led her to the doors that separated her from your darkest secret. You took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

You appeared to be in the basement of your house. You walked up the stairs and took her to a storage room where she could see it happen. You sat in silence for a few minutes only the sounds of breathing and your heartbeat could be heard.

You knew this day off by heart, it plagued your nightmares often. It all started to sweet and went sour so quickly. At this time you were currently on your way back from doing your weekly shop to Tescos making sure you didn't forget their vodka and gin on your way to pay. Thankfully, the shop was only 10 minuets away and you doubted that the TARDIS would make you wait longer than nessacary. Just as the Doctor opened her mouth to speak the door opened and in walked an 18 year old you.

You set the bags down and started sorting the items into their new places. The canned foods go in the cupboard and the meat goes into the fridge. There were loads of food and stuff to go through and place properly. After you placed the last can of baked beans into the cupboard, the door swung open, nearly breaking the door.

They came home from their dealers place early. They stunk of weed and alcohol and had a little white powder around their nose. They looked like they had a good time until they had to come home. It was their dealers birthday so he was having a brothel themed party meaning there were strippers, pole dancers and prostitutes as well. The dealer was a rich guy who practically ran this city. The cops couldn't do anything as he could always bail himself out of jail.

They looked you in your comfy clothes and scoffed. They looked angry. "Why aren't you in your normal clothes babes? I thought I told you to throw away all of that shit. Come on now. Don't tell me I wasted all my well earned money on those clothes I specifically chose for you?"

You shuddered, both in the past and now except now they only made bile rise into your throat. You were so young and vulnerable. Now you know better.

The past you quickly scampered off to get changed. After only 5 minutes you reappeared in what was sexy school girl. The blue miniskirt covered less than most underwear so you were forced to wear a thong. The shirt was a bralet that barely covered your nipples. Your hair was in pigtails and you wore thigh highs. The sight made you silently sick in your mouth. You looked pathetic and weak.

You looked at them expectingly. You were waiting for your next order from them. They seemed to drool at the sight of you. "That's better babes. Why didn't you go shopping like that? Show the world your fat ugly figure? I want you to walk out there and see that no one else wants you but here I am, loving you. I am the only one who will ever like you in the way we have now. Your lucky I've had some fun tonight. All I want is my vodka and a new blunt darling"

You quickly went and grabbed their stuff and walked towards them as they settled in front of the TV. They turned the TV on and put Love Island on. How you hated that show. It made you feel bad for being the size you are. The women on there were beautiful but you also knew that, that kind of beauty costs money. So while your partner had fun watching the show for the romance, you watched it to spot what part of them was bought and what was real. Almost all the women had fake teeth and breasts. You hated how your partner would make snide comments on how they looked compared to you.

"You should be looking like Becky ya know. Beautiful teeth, big perky tits and a fucking great ass. What do you have? Flabs!" And there was the first comment of the day. The first of 30, you counted.

"Yeah well you are fucking broke so I can't look like fucking fake ass Becky or the others!" You thought. Then the Doctor gave you a look of shock and pity and then you realised you said that aloud. Not loud enough for them to hear you but enough for the Doctor.

"Make yourself fucking useful and make me some dinner. I fancy a steak and chips." They ordered as you got up and waddled over to the kitchen. A few minutes in you realised you put too much oil in the pan for the steak but the steak was already in and cooking quick. So quick that it started to smoke just a little bit. You tried blowing it away from them before they realised that you fucked up their dinner but ut was too late. They were already on their feet a marching towards you.

"I'm so sorry. I accidentally poured too much oil in. I'm so sorry. I have a spare steak, you can have my meal for tonight, I could do with skipping a meal anyways, helps me lose weight!" Past you was panicked and present you wasn't much better. Even though you were safe from them, they still made you uneasy. If you were to ever see them again, you'd freeze. They made your blood run cold. Even their voice sent unpleasant shivers down your spine.

"You better make me another steak but I still have to punish you. You fucked up, a lesson needs to be learnt." They said scarily politely. They grabbed your left arm and marched you towards the sink. They also grabbed the burning pan and pinned you so you had no escape as they poured the boiling oil onto your skin. You knew not to scream do you bit into your other arm knowing a bite out of it is better than causing more punishments for screaming.

When they were done left to watch the TV and you knew what that meant. You had to cook the spare steak and make there meal before you can get proper treatment at the hospital. Through your tears of agony, you quickly ran your burnt and bleeding arm under the cold water of the sink. You bit deeper into your other arm and tasting blood, but thay didn't stop you until the left one had cooled down. Then you got an old shirt, ripped 2 pieces of fabric off and wrapped them around both arm Injuries. You then continued their meal.

Once they had the meal they kicked you and punched you in the stomach because the chips were slightly cold and then they drove you to the hospital as they promised. When you had left you didn't realise you had been crying until a drop fell on your arm. You walked out of the storage room and sat on the sofa, turning the TV off.

The Doctor looked shocked for a moment before walking over and kneeling in front of you. The Doctor went silent for a moment. Before she could speak, you decided to speak first.

"I couldn't tell you because I couldn't think if a nice way of telling you. I didn't want to appear weak to you." You cried as your voice cracked in the middle due to the tears and the strain. The Doctor looked at you in pity and disappointment.

"This does not make you weak. Being abused does not make you weak. Because being abused is like being tortured by someone who supposed to love you and cherish you. They are meant to protect you from danger not be the danger. I would never hurt you. I know that I put you in risky situations but believe me, I would never intentionally put you in danger. You mean too much to me" The Doctor softly spoke with tears making a little river down her soft cheeks and onto your black carpet below.

"Before I met them, I was like you or Yaz. I was so happy at everything. Very little could bring me down. But I met them and started dating them and suddenly, my world of sunshine faded to grey. There was no light. I wanted to die Doctor. When you found me at that spider hotel, I wanted to be free from them as I couldn't do it. I can't because they'd kill me. I don't want to be alive whilst I'm with them. I have so many scars from either them or me trying to end my own life and that the scariest thing. Death wants us to be terrified but wanting to die is so much more terrifying Doctor, I know that." You cried as you emptied all you could to her. The Doctor was silent for a moment, taking in everything you said. Waves of emotion flashed through her, anger, sadness, pity and something you couldn't quite place.

"You said wanted. That's past tense. You said wanted to die. What changed? What made you want to live?"

"You did. You saved me from the spiders. You gave me a temporary out of the relationship for a while. You made me smile for the first time in 3 years! You made me laugh. The world of grey is now full of sunshine and rainbows Doctor. You also saved me today. When I jumped across that canyon, I jumped to end my life. I made a mistake that nearly ended a planet! If I wasn't so fat and clumsy maybe i-"

"Don't you dare say that! You are not fat (n/n). Yes you have more plush to your body but you are not fat. I hate that word. Its such a nasty word. You are gorgeous, amazing and so brilliant. You can't see what I see and I really wished you could for just one moment. You are worthy of being loved and cared for. You are precious, rare, one of a kind. I've never met anyone like you. There's always some skinny, fake bodied and caked up women but there's no one with as much natural beauty as you! Let's get back to the TARDIS and we'll talk more when looking at the stars because I can see that being here isn't doing you any favours" The Doctor spoke with such passion that you started to believe that her words held more than those of a supporting friend would.

Once the TARDIS was parked in the Milky Way you settled by the door once again and found yourself accompanied by the sweet alien. You both sat there for a moment just content with wrapping your heads around what's just happened. You looked over to the blonde and noticed how the stars made her glow in such an ethereal way that you felt almost compelled to worship her. Maybe you should after everything she's done for you. Her eyes sparkled with si many emotions from the past senario.

"Are you still with them?"

"Why do you think I never left this place? I mean even if could, I wouldn't want to but it's mainly because if I go back home, I'll come back with more injuries. I feel safer with you. You are my sunshine and rainbows and they are my storm clouds. Whilst I'm here, I'm alive and mostly unbroken. Whilst I'm there, I'm as alive as a puppet and severely broken. I can't leave, not on my own anyway."

The Doctor looked at you in thought. "The starlight compliments you. You look so pretty and almost angelic. I just wish they never hurt my angel. My innocent angel had broken wings and I'm going to fix what the Devil broke, I promise. Just hold on, I'm going to take us somewhere."

You held the nearest crystal as the TARDIS transported you somewhere but it seemed like the sentient machine was determined to take you there as quick as she could. As you opened the doors you noticed a familiar smell of weed mixed with alcohol. You heard the familiar tune of Love Island and knew exactly where you were. You were home. The Doctor saw your hesitation and whispered softly, "I want you to pack everything you want. I've written a note for them to find. I'm going to put it on the bed. If they notice you scream for me and I'll be there. They will not hurt you much, hopefully not at all. I just need to do something in the TARDIS before I help you." She turned and left into the TARDIS and disappeared down a corridor.

The atmosphere sent chills down your spine and you were frozen. The TARDIS seemed to notice and words of encouragement were sent into your head which helped you move towards your bedroom. You quickly buy quietly opend your suitcase and started to fill it with clothing and hygiene products. As you entered the bathroom a bottle of their shampoo fell into the tub giving you away. You knew you only had so long before they came in and hurt you so you closed the door and barricaded it with whatever you could.

As you pushed the last cabinet to the pile they roared through the wooden door. "Let me in you fat dumb bitch. You've been gone for 3 weeks and you've got some balls coming back! You're lucky I haven't burned all your shit! Where have you been?"

Your heart ran at an extremely fast pace nd you knew only one person could help you now. And so you screamed her name so loud it hurt your throat bit that didn't stop you. You screamed until you heard talking. You couldn't understand what was said but suddenly a thud was heard and then silence.

"Hey Starlight! It's only me. I've taken care of them. They're not dead but in a venishion aikido. They can't move, they're paralysed. You can come out and finish packing"

You moved everything out of the door and opened it to a view you expected. The Doctor with 2 fingers to their pulse point on their neck. The Doctor smiled at when they saw you. You finished packing and zipped the bag up. Then Yaz walked in with her police uniform on and arrested them for domestic violence and many other things. Now you understood why The Doctor left, it was to get Yaz as a back up option to completely take them out of your life.

The Doctor helped open doors for you as you got your room and you set the suitcase to one side to empty another day. You both sat down on your bed. The sound was filled with nothing but 2 lifeforms breathing and the TARDIS faint buzzing. You two stayed like this, staring into each other, trying to read the others emotions. But we all know what The Doctor is like, she can't stay silent for long.

"I had to save you because as long as you were with them, you weren't ever going to be truly happy. I didn't want my big bright star to turn into a black hole, I wanted her to be a supernova. My Starlight deserves to be happy."

"You keep saying my Doctor. And you asked if I was still with them and then when I basically said yes, you quickly, as in a rush, sent us home so I could leave them. You keep saying all these things about me. You held my hand from the canyon to the drill. You are always the first to check on me and you always make sure I'm OK first even if I'm the farthest person from you! Doctor, be honest, I don't want any more bullshit. Doctor why?" You spoke softly but with determination. The Doctor blushed and shifted her gaze to the stars and quietly gulped. She knew this day would come. The day her secret was revealed. And she dreaded her answer and she dreaded your reaction. And whilst she figured out what to say, you already knew the answer.

You gently grabbed her chin and made her look at you. Once her gaze caught yours, you smiled and placed your lips to her soft ones. Quickly she caught up and kissed you back with all the love and passion she could muster. She wanted to relay that she did love you and that she would do exactly as she said earlier, she would cherish you.

As for you, you smiled. You finally had an out that didn't end in death but instead ended with the same love that you yearned for, for years.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

[blacksunscorpio]

Hello! I saw your post about elevated planets, is there also any explanation about the planets opposite/bottom of the Zenith/Mc? Thank you!

Good Question

Nadir In Astrology

The Nadir, or Imum Coeli (IC), Latin for “south/bottom of the sky,” or “lowest point” is one of the four major angles in an astrological birth chart [the other 3 are the [Rising, Descendant, and Midheaven] and definitely the least talked about. The Midheaven and Nadir points lie at opposite ends of your Natal Chart. The Midheaven is at the very top [where your most elevated will be nearest]. It is where the Sun was at its highest peak during midday. Using this, we calculate the Nadir, or where the Sun was at its very lowest point during midnight. Like the Ascendant and Descendent Axis, the Midheaven and Nadir are opposites, with one side exposed and other other deeply hidden. It lies opposite the Midheaven—a point on our chart that represents our public life and persona, which gets a lot of attention.

What it Means

Since the Midheaven is our brightest, most open, well-light part of your personality, adversely the Nadir is the dead of night in your chart [quite literally], the IC is the deepest, darkest, quietest, most personal place in your chart. It  houses the Private Persona. This is how your mind operates in secret, how you feel, and how you act, when you are completely alone, with no one else watching. Our Nadir (IC) signifies our most profound depths and needs, a part of us that we often don’t share with others. While the rising and descendant axis of our charts navigate the relationship between self and others. The Midheaven and Nadir showcase the polarity of our outer and inner worlds. The IC sits on the cusp of the fourth house, ruled by the moon/cancer associated with family lineage, home environment, and family influences. Similarly to the moon, our nadir shows us our needs and emotional tendencies, though it's much more than that. When you looking at your birth chart, the nadir is below the horizon line of the ascendant and is the lowest place in our chart, therefore representing our foundation and roots. In this way, the IC also reveals the type of environment best for our physical well-being. Make sense? Now, I want to mention that many often think of the MC as a fake, constructed persona, and the Nadir is as our real, authentic selves. This couldn't be further from the truth. Fake news. This way of thinking hinges on the idea that we are fundamentally one type of person, forced act unlike ourselves in different situations. But the truth is, all of your choices and actions come together to create a portrait of who you really are, regardless of what made you act that way. The way you act when you are in front of people, trying to make your best impression - that is the real you. And the way you act when you are alone, with nobody to judge you - that is the real you, too ;). Humans are dichotomous and complex and astrology allows for that because it, as a study, is complex as well.

Nadir By Sign

Aries: [Libra MC] Need for independence and freedom. Reputation is built on the finer aspects of your personality. People know you by your good looks, first and foremost. They see you as elegant, yet strong; rational and logical. Inwardly, can be prone to dramatic displays of anger, loud demands, bossy, and sharp, biting humor and immense stores of sexual drive or drive in general. Family was very active or extremely ambitious. Learned early on how to be independent. Growing up, might have witnessed a lot of conflict in your family, some of it serious and some of it not. You saw problems with alcoholism, drug addiction, and anger. Unconsciously aggressive or combative.

Taurus: [Scorpio MC] Need for security or physical pleasures. Come off as intense, passionate, mysterious or dark. Family was stable or materialistic. As a child you were always well fed and secure. Parents/guardians gave you a taste for the finer things in life by caring so much about the look and quality of the things in their home. On a darker note they could also be quite controlling in a lot of ways, both over their house and family. Nothing could be done, or touched, or moved, or planned without them having a hand in what was going on. Native can be unconsciously inflexible or possessive.

Gemini: [Sagittarius MC] Need for understanding themselves and world around them. Outwardly can be very philosophical, blunt, straightforward and/or outspoken. When you find yourself alone with your thoughts, you spend a lot of time enjoying your own inner dialogue. And when you are with those few people you are close to, you enjoy a lot of stimulating conversations.  Family is a literal mosaic. Different colors and personalities. Home life was changing constantly. Family was growing and shrinking, moving around, breaking apart and then putting/fitting new pieces together. Childhood was self-expressive or hyper-intellectually focused. Unconsciously erratic, anxious or cunning that can display itself as duplicitousness.

Cancer: [Capricorn MC] Need to seek and give nurturance. Can come off as  determined, hard working, goal-oriented, and very good at what you do. You have a very professional public image that exudes confidence and experience. Family was co-dependent or critical. Growing up your mother was the central figure of your family home, either because she was a single mother or your father was away from home a lot. As a child, you were given more than enough praise and attention. When alone, you take on an almost maternal role in your house, cooking and cleaning and taking care of chores. Often, you will retreat into your bedroom, den or personal workshop and spend a lot of time working on things by solo.  Unconsciously co-dependent or guarded.

Leo: [Aquarius MC] Need for creative self-expression. intelligent, detached connections with other people. Can come off as detached or have this kind “dry intensity” that radiates off of you – you seem to be quietly aloof, cold. When alone, can be quite friendly or show big displays of love to those close to them. An eternal child that will always love fairly tales no matter how old they are. Family was self-involved or warm-hearted. The kid who was told they were special all the time. Everybody in your family (especially your mother) fawned over all the things you did, praising you for every accomplishment and exaggerating all your best qualities. You got everything you wanted. Unconsciously may have a lot of self-doubt.

Virgo: [Pisces MC] Need for efficiency. Comes off as a creative, kind, spiritual, almost ethereal person. People will notice the far-away look, the quiet contentment that hangs around you like a miasma. Draws in both saints and sinners. Though they may present a misty outward appearance, inwardly they keep detailed inventory of everything. Likes work and routine. Family or parent was hyper-critical. Some kind of negativity surrounding you when you were growing up, like fighting, substance abuse, depression, anxiety, or a poor home life. Whether or not you were aware of what your family members were going though, you looked for an escape. May have control freak tendencies.

Libra: [Aries MC] Need for harmony, though possibly difficulty in knowing needs with too much vacillation. Outwardly brave, perhaps a tad bossy, driven, commanding and leader-like with touches of aggression or authoritarianism. inwardly, peace loving, diplomatic, utterly polite, cooperative and friendly to the point of people pleasing. Family could have been quite social or superficial. When you are out interacting with the world you are confrontational and/or competitive. Growing up, you had to share your parent’s attention with other people. You might have had other siblings that got more than you, or they might have had other obligations that took up their time. Unconsciously coy.

Scorpio: [Taurus MC] Need for emotional depth and understanding. Outwardly laid back and grounded. Astonishing work-ethic. Security minded and practical. Inwardly there is a deep well of emotion. Can dwell or obsess. Powerful drive and silently aggressive. Family was secretive or powerful. Unconscious forces outside may have influenced them. Involved in power dynamics. Subconsciously,  memories of the past are littered with alcoholism, abuse, death, trauma, sex, various kinds of manipulation and betrayal.

Sagittarius: [Gemini MC] Need to discover their own truth. Comes off as intelligent, sociable, highly optimistic. Social butterfly. Inwardly may act out personal and grandiose dramas. Family was hyper-ethical or adventurous. Sought to learn and understand other people’s cultures and perspectives. In your childhood, when you were living at home with your family, you were thought of as a very bright child. Energetic, enthusiastic about learning, and always exploring the outside world, you met every new subject with curiosity and an open mind. Teachers and classmates labelled you as the “smart kid”. Unconsciously can seek status, attention or might be prone to judgment.

Capricorn: [Cancer MC] Need for reliability and order. reputation for being determined, hard working, goal-oriented. Family was traditional or repressed emotions. Might feel like you have to “fight for respect.” Family was very restrictive and controlling. Tried to make you into what they wanted you to be rather than accepting you for how you were. When alone in the privacy of your own home, you are emotional, sensitive, and very attached to your belongings and loved ones. Unconsciously self-repressing or pessimistic.

Aquarius: [Leo MC] Need for unconventional and individual stance. Comes off as bubbly, friendly, happy, and attracts attention easily. Inwardly, a loner, detached, intelligent, the furthest thing from a people pleaser. Likes to be left alone to their own devices to study or research. Family was non-traditional or unavailable. Home life might have been chaotic or tumultuous. As a kid you had little control over your life’s direction and had to follow your parents wherever they went. This could mean you were uprooted a lot, maybe a military kid or simply forced into their religion or belief system. Unconsciously somewhat detached from others. Accept anybody for anything, you support them 100%. Not interested in people or affairs/things that do not concern you. Father might have been absent. Unconsciously weird/ unusual.

Pisces: [Virgo MC] Need for wandering or mysticism. Comes off as organized, dissecting, routine-loving and very well-put together. Inwardly, can be emotional, messy, lazy, gullible, but also sensitive, compassionate, empathetic, and completely selfless. Family roots of unclear boundaries. Growing up there was a lot going on between your parents that you didn’t understand. Perhaps born on the verge of some kind of upheaval. Something happened that caused the family break apart before you were born and now they were dealing with the aftermath. Unconsciously over-sensitive or non-committal.

Bruja note:

The key to understanding the patterns and energy of the IC brings balance and equilibrium to our lives as it teaches us how to embrace our past and move forward into our future. How to really grasp and harness the midheaven gifts and promises. There is an inevitable sense of karma and destiny associated with the angles of our charts, and the IC is no exception. Knowing the patterns of the nadir brings consciousness to our underworld. More understanding. It is considered by many astrologers one of, if not THE most important part of our entire chart—because of the depth of understanding it gives us when we really commit to comprehending it. By utilizing the skills and difficulties of our family/ancestors/origins, we are thrusted into our personal journey’s and ultimately our north node or most elevated destinies.  

What sign is your Nadir in? Dissecting and understanding it can bring healing and growth to you and those you’re closely connected with.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 61

Masterlist

----

Initially, moving everyone to Cretea seemed like a brilliant solution to a terrible situation. In practice, though, it soon turns out that there are about a hundred problems attached that Miryam didn’t see coming at the first glance.

The first issue is, obviously, that most of their people do not want to move to Cretea. In spite of knowing about Shey and the other Fae members of the Alliance wanting them dead, the Seraphim still thought they would be able to return home to Erithia, and they are understandably reluctant to leave their home behind. The idea of moving to an island that is considered holy in their religion does little to ease their unhappiness, either. Meanwhile, the humans are theoretically fine with moving to some island they never heard of before, but are far from pleased at the prospect of having to share that island with a group of Fae.

Convincing everyone to go along with the plan takes days, and it only works because the alternative is to risk getting murdered. There are several concessions that need to be made, though. For one, it quickly becomes apparent that the Seraphim will only agree to come along if their friends and families can come as well. That was not initially something Miryam and Drakon had planned for – no need to drag more people than absolutely necessary into it, after all – but the Seraphim refuse to leave otherwise, and so they have no choice but to spirit the hundreds of thousands of Erithians still waiting in Erithia away to their camp. The attack they stage to cover their tracks is not exactly a good trick, but they hope that in the general chaos ensuing all over the Continent right now, no one will think to double-check.

Meanwhile, the humans come up with a few demands of their own to assure their safety. Most importantly, they downright refuse to be ruled over by any Fae. (“No offence to your husband,” Niria, who relays the decision to Miryam, says, “He seems nice enough, but he’s still Fae.”) Miryam would have picked Niria for the job of leading the humans, but everyone else seems to agree that it will obviously be her who takes up the role, and she has to admit that it’s convenient for an eventual unity within their soon-to-be-formed country to have the rulers of the Fae and humans already married to each other. Eventually, they might actually manage to get a unified government for all people living on Cretea, but for the moment, it is agreed upon that humans and Fae will be governed separately, with an option of merging the two governments eventually should both sides agree.

By the time they finally move on to the next issue (how to get everyone to Cretea), the Continent has already completely dissolved into chaos. They had to pull in most of their spies, but Andromache, who drops by almost every day, keeps them well-informed.

“It is a mess,” she says one day, looking drained enough that Miryam wordlessly hands her a mug of tea and gently pushes her towards the nearest chair. “Millions of people on the move everywhere. All roads are crowded, and the soldiers are busy day and night trying to keep the violence between groups at bay. And we still haven’t got any idea where to put most of these people.”

For the most part, Miryam just tries not to think about it. She doesn’t want to imagine these millions of people who are forced to leave their homes and travel through the entire Continent into the unknown, doesn’t want to think that this was not the future she was hoping for when she dreamt of what a world after the war might look like. (We won, she reminds herself. That’s all that really counts. Any other problems, we will find a way to deal with.)

There are many things she is trying very hard not to think too much about. Her death, for example. Or the wall that will soon go up and the people who will have to die for it to happen. Or how the entire mess the world has been turned into is, in some way, because of her. During the days when she is too busy to spend much time thinking, it works for the most part. At night, it’s a different matter.

At the end of the day, she’s still one of the lucky ones, though. Unlike so many others, at least she isn’t losing her home. Of course, there are places she will miss, Erithia and Telique for one. But she never truly had a place she considered home, not really, so there is no home for her to lose now. Her home were always other people, and most of those will be coming with her.

It more difficult for Drakon. He is trying very hard to pretend that he is enthusiastic about moving to Cretea to set a good example for his people, but Miryam can tell that losing Erithia is tearing him apart. That is definitely her fault in a way, just as the fact that his right arm still hurts and none of the healers they talked to has been able to do anything about it is because of her. (Well, the blame for that last thing lies with Daín for the most part, but he had the good sense to stay away so far. Miryam is sure that will change soon enough, though, given what she knows about him.)

Drakon and her settle into a rhythm of sorts together. During the days, they pretend everything is fine. At nights, when they are alone in their tent, they allow themselves to mourn, to be scared and in pain. It probably isn’t ideal, but Miryam supposes they will have all the time in the world to deal with what they lost once everyone is safe and settled on Cretea.

----

Miryam is asleep in their tent, or at least pretending to be, but Drakon gave up on trying to sleep after having spent two hours tossing and turning on his mattress. His right arm still hurts, pain shooting up from the fingertips to the shoulder at any movement, which makes sleeping difficult.

Instead, he leaves the camp, nodding to the guards as he passes them, and sits down on a flat stone by the shore still within the wards Miryam set up around the camp. Tiny waves are lapping around his feet. Drakon picks up a handful of pebbles and starts tossing them into the water, sending ripples running over the surface.

He is just about to pick up a second hand of stones when a reflection appears in the water. He looks up and finds a dark-haired man with dark skin and blue robes floating above the water. So he did come, just as Miryam predicted.

“Ghost,” he says, only to remember a heartbeat later that the being in front of him is called Daín.

“Hello Drakon,” Ghost – no, Daín, remember it already – says quietly.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and Drakon only stares at him. Miryam told him about what happened after he resurrected her, but he still cannot quite believe that the man before her is the second-most important being in his religion. (Although given that his goddess apparently wants him dead, he might want to reconsider his religion as well. There are many things he needs to reconsider, it seems.)

“How… how are you doing?” Daín finally asks.

“Good,” Drakon says in a too-casual tone. “Thanks for asking. You might want to avoid Miryam for the time being, though. She’s furious with you.”

“Miryam, huh?” Daín asks. “And you?”

Drakon shrugs with his good shoulder. “My arm still hurts.” Understatement of the century. “I can barely hold a pen. How do you think I am feeling?”

Daín’s form dims slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s what I actually came to tell you. I didn’t mean…” He breaks off, then starts again. “I regretted it the moment I did it.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Drakon asks.

That’s what has been bugging him ever since. Admittedly, he isn’t the best at judging people, but he still thought he could trust Ghost. They weren’t exactly friends, but he still thought they liked each other. That he was apparently so wrong stings.

“Because I couldn’t spend the rest of eternity stuck in that cave,” Daín says, voice rising slightly. “I just couldn’t.”

“But we had promised to get you out,” Drakon says. He doesn’t like how small his voice sounds. This would probably be easier if he was angry.

“And how would you have done that, with Miryam dead?” Daín shakes his head. “Any possible way to ever free me – be it in combination with resurrecting Miryam or just cutting me loose – involved you using the sword. I didn’t want this, I swear I didn’t, but it was my only chance.”

“Ah,” Drakon says, nodding slowly.

He hadn’t considered that. It makes sense, though, and it being the reason for why Daín did what he did is actually a relief. It means that Daín didn’t hate him, didn’t fake friendliness to manipulate him into freeing him from the beginning – Drakon didn’t misjudge him that badly, after all – he just wanted to get out of the cave. After eight thousand years of being trapped there alone, it is certainly something Drakon can sympathize with. He doesn’t exactly approve (his arm hurts too much for that), but he has a hard time blaming Daín.

“And you…” Daín continues, “you wanted to save Miryam so badly. Initially, I wasn’t going to help you, but you practically begged me and so – “

“And so you thought it was fine to lie to me?” Drakon asks, annoyed again. He understands why Daín didn’t give him the choice, but there’s really no reason for Daín to act like he was doing him a favour, or like he was justified in taking away his choice on the matter. “If you were so sure I would do it anyways, you could have just told me the truth.”

“I – “ Daín begins, but he is cut off by a voice from behind.

“Are you actually apologizing because you feel bad, or just because your little plan to free yourself didn’t go quite as planned and you need me to not hate you, Daín?”

Drakon turns around to Miryam who is leaning against a tree behind him, arms crossed so tightly she looks like she is moments away from accidentally snapping them.

“Can’t sleep?” Drakon asks by way of greeting and moves aside a bit on his stone to make space for her.

“As usual.” Miryam pushes off her tree and goes to sit next to him. Arms still crossed, she turns to glare at Daín. “Still waiting for your answer.”

Daín still seems to be processing what Miryam just said to him. He is hanging entirely still in the air, not even blinking. At Miryam’s words, he snaps out of it, though.

“I really do want to apologize,” he says. “I would have come even if I had been freed fully, instead of just being tied to you instead of the sword. And I would still want you to not hate me even if I was able to move more than a mile away from you at a time.”

Miryam snorts. “Yeah, it must be terribly inconvenient. All that work to get free, only to end up tied to one of the people you betrayed to get what you want.”

She is very good at only letting anger and coldness show right now, but Drakon knows that she was as hurt by Daín’s betrayal as he was, and that she isn’t pleased at all by having him bound to her now. Under different circumstances, Drakon thinks she might have decided to be more charitable about the entire situation and give Daín a second chance, but it seems she decided to be angry for both of them about Daín nearly getting him killed.

“Besides,” Miryam continues, “your apologies hardly undo what you did.”

Now, Drakon does feel the need to interject. He is almost beginning to feel bad for Daín.

“It was nice of him to explain, though,” Drakon says. “I can’t even blame him, honestly.”

Miryam twists around to face him, looking outraged. “What?” She asks. “You can’t be serious.”

Drakon shrugs. “He wanted a way out of that cave. I understand that. And if I had just let him out earlier instead of leaving him trapped there all alone just because I was scared to break tradition, none of this would have happened, so at least part of the blame for the entire situation lies with me.”

“Using the sword would still have killed you, though!” Miryam is clearly trying to keep her voice calm, but she doesn’t succeed entirely. “That was his plan from the beginning. How can you just be willing to overlook that?”

In spite of himself, Drakon finds himself smiling. It has been an ongoing discussion between the two of them in the last weeks which one of them is putting to little importance into their own wellbeing. Drakon feels that Miryam is brushing off the fact that she died and the related trauma too easily and also spends far too much time blaming herself and too little blaming others for everything that happened. In turn, Miryam thinks that Drakon should focus less on her and more on how he almost died and also lost his home.

In the end, they are probably both right. It seems that they are both painfully alike in that they never quite manage to place enough importance on their own lives.

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Daín objects, making Drakon turn to face him again. “I didn’t want to hurt Drakon, that’s why I stopped suggesting he use the sword after a while!”

Miryam looks like she already has a reply ready for that, but Drakon cuts in before she gets the chance. “I think we aren’t going to solve this today,” he says. “What I’d like to know, though, is how you ended up in that cave. The true story. And how you know the Mo… Étain.”

That stops Miryam from saying whatever was just on her mind. She has been dying to know the details of Daín’s and Étaín’s past, and she evidently cares more about that than about telling Daín off yet again.

“Alright,” Daín says. He seems relieved at the chance to change the subject. “Then let’s start at the beginning. From my understanding, it is Fae belief that I am a Fae who was chosen as a consort by Étaín, who is the goddess who created this world.”

Drakon nods, internally bracing himself. He has a feeling he isn’t going to like whatever is coming next. He was never go-to-the-temple-daily religious, but he did care about it. The years of war didn’t exactly improve his relationship with his goddess, but he can’t shake the feeling that this will be worse still.

“The Fae, as usual, were wrong on both counts,” Daín says. “Étaín and I are both members of a species called Aín. We are born from the universe itself, made from the strings that make up its essence and have powers that are – although any Aín I can think of would consider the comparison an insult – similar to the powers witches exhibit. Although the more correct way to put it considering the history would be that the witches have powers that are a faint echo of ours.”

“Sounds pretty god-like to me,” Drakon mutters.

“That’s an interesting question, isn’t it?” Daín asks, perking up. “What is a god?” He seems genuinely excited at the question. “You see, there is no clear answer. If we define it as a ‘being of great power that is worshipped as a deity’, one might consider Miryam to be a goddess, provided she got herself some worshipers, and – “

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Miryam asks sharply. Drakon cannot tell if she is just annoyed with Daín in general, wants him to continue his story, or doesn’t like the goddess-comparison. Probably a mixture of all three.

Daín winces. “Sure. Anyways, long story short, Étaín grew tired of simply visiting worlds and watching life there as a spectator. She wanted… well, I suppose that no longer matters. She took over one of the worlds – this one – and began to shape it to her liking, using the Cauldron, a magical item she created, to anchor the spell she used. She never particularly cared about the world’s original inhabitants – the humans, as I am sure you already guessed – but there was a bunch of invaders from another world – the Fae – who were all too happy to worship her as a goddess when she had prepared this world so well for them. And Étaín quickly found that she enjoyed being worshipped as a goddess.”

Drakon groans and buries his face in his hands. He prepared himself for the worst, but this is worse than anything he considered possible. His ancestors were invaders who stole this world from the humans and then proceeded to enslave him, his goddess the one who helped them, and –

“And what was your role in all this?” Miryam asks.

“I was her best friend,” Daín says without looking at Miryam. “And then I was her lover and her husband.”

“So you helped her.” Miryam has her arms crossed again and seems to be growing increasingly angry as the conversation progresses.

“No. But I didn’t stop her either, and that’s almost as bad.” Daín sighs. “It took me far too long to realize that she was wrong, and to start acting against her. I only changed my mind when I met Rashida. But from then on, I worked with the humans against Étaín. Well, mostly against the Fae, but Étaín backed them, so it made little difference. I managed to keep it secret for centuries, but she found out eventually. When she did, we fought. And we hurt each other badly enough that we were both reduced to this.” He gestures at himself. “Powerless. Mere shades of what we once were, forced to remain stuck in this world forever without ever having the power to influence it again.”

Drakon curses softly and runs a hand through his hair. Wonderful. So everything he believes was one giant lie. Well, not everything, of course, but still quite a lot. A lot of really important things.

Miryam nods slowly. “Interesting story. We’ll think about it.”

“There’s more still,” Daín says. “So much you do not know yet.”

“Maybe some other day,” Miryam says. “I’d rather be alone with Drakon now, though.”

Daín nods. “Of course. And I truly am sorry.”

Miryam doesn’t react. Drakon might have offered some acknowledgement, but he is still chewing on what Daín just told him. After waiting another heartbeat, Daín disappears into thin air.

Drakon turns to Miryam. His first instinct is to apologize, to offer some kind of comment about what Daín just revealed about his ancestors, but Miryam likely wouldn’t care about that. She didn’t the first time around, and she doubts he will now.

Miryam is the one who breaks the silence. “I can’t believe you are actually considering to forgive him,” she says, but she is smiling as she shakes her head slightly.

Ah. So this is what they are talking about. “And you?” Drakon asks. “Are you just going to hate him forever? Might be inconvenient, given that he is tied to you. He’ll have to be around a lot.”

Miryam laughs. “Unfortunate, isn’t it? I guess I’ll have to put that on the list of things I will eventually have to deal with. Sometime after we’ve made sure our people get through the next year without starving, I imagine.”

Drakon smiles back at her. “At least it won’t be boring?” He offers.

“Oh, definitely,” Miryam says and takes his hand. “At the rate things are going, we’ll be lucky if we ever get so much as a single boring day in our lives.”

“There’s a lot to be done until we get there, though,” Drakon says and jumps to his feet. “Houses to build and fields to plant. A country to create from scratch.” He offers her a hand to help her up.

Miryam takes the offered hand and lets him pull her to her feet. “Sounds fun. We better find a way to get everyone to Cretea safely first, though.”

----

Moving over to Cretea turns out to be less of a challenge than Miryam initially anticipated. Lacking ships and unable to purchase new ones for secrecy reasons, they had to rely on magic to get them across the ocean and onto the island. The entire matter (disabling the wards to even allow people onto the island and then creating a spell that allows about a million people to transfer to the island) took Miryam four days and no less than six trips to Cretea.

The spell she ended up with is hardly a work of art – it’s a one-way bridge of sorts between their camp and Cretea, and only ten people can pass through at a time and the transfer over to Cretea takes about thirty seconds, meaning that they need to have the spell running for well over a month to get everyone over to the island – but it is functional. A month is long, yes, it seems like a small price to pay for a relatively safe and comfortable way of travelling. Especially compared to what the millions of people on the Continent who also lost their homes have to deal with.

On the last day before the first people will start leaving for Cretea, Andromache visits again. Drakon is busy explaining the logistics of everything to the group of soldiers that will pass through the wall first, and so it’s just the two of them sitting together in Miryam’s tent.

“So, how are you doing?” Andromache asks.

Miryam shrugs. “Getting used to everything.” She doesn’t say that the nightmares are bad again, or that she feels so terribly guilty for all these people having to leave their homes, or that she is terrified of what the future might hold.

Andromache is kind enough to leave it at that and not call attention to her lie. “You’re leaving with the first group tomorrow?” She asks instead.

“Yes.” Miryam nods to the necklace Andromache is still wearing around her neck. “That will still bring you to me whenever you want. I’m hoping to see you again even when we’ve left the Continent.”

“I’ll come visit,” Andromache says with a sad smile.

Neither of them says that Andromache will have a very limited amount of time where she is even able to visit. The evacuations will probably take a few months still, but once the Wall goes up, there will be no more visits. Because there will be no more Andromache.

It is a subject both of them have carefully avoided in the last weeks. The knowledge that the wall spell will require the lives of the six human queens to come into function is always there, standing between them, but Miryam hasn’t yet found the courage to address it and Andromache doesn’t seem interested in bringing it up either.

Miryam reaches into her jacket and pulls out a second necklace. “And it would be great if you could give this to Mor. Tell her that I’d like to see her again sometime.”

Andromache frowns at the necklace in Miryam’s hand, then reluctantly takes it. “Is this your way of making me talk to Mor again?”

“This is my way of making sure a friend of mine doesn’t spend the rest of her life blaming herself for my death, and of possibly clearing up our argument,” Miryam replies. “Although I do wish you two would talk things out.”

Andromache makes a face at Miryam. “I don’t.”

“It was just an argument, Andromache. And it was halfway my fault, anyways, for not warning Mor of what I was going to do. It’s really not worth breaking up over.”

And Miryam feels terrible that this argument led to two of her friends breaking up. She never wanted that to happen, and she doesn’t think Mor deserves it. What she has said hadn’t exactly been kind, but given what Miryam had done, it hadn’t been unwarranted, either. Miryam doesn’t regret her actions, but she also cannot blame anyone for hating her for them.

“Well, it’s not your relationship so you don’t get to decide that,” Andromache mutters. When Miryam just watches her in silence, she sighs. “Besides, I’m not breaking up with Mor over the argument the two of you had. I’m breaking up with her because of the general implications of her behaviour.”

“You don’t really think Mor is anything like Shey,” Miryam says.

“No. But I don’t think I can imagine a relationship with her either. Not anymore.” Andromache shrugs. “I mean, even if I wasn’t going to die in that spell, I think it would be better for things to end here. Especially with the wall soon going up, there is little point in investing in a relationship I am unsure about.”

“Either way, you should talk to her sometime,” Miryam says. “You won’t get many chances to clear things between you up anymore, and such things shouldn’t be put off too long.” She thinks of Jurian and all the things she never got the chance to say to him and adds, “Talking from experience.”

Andromache sighs and closes her hand around the necklace. “I’ll give it to Mor,” she says. “And I’ll see. About the conversation.”

Miryam nods. “That’s all I am asking.”

----

Almost two weeks after Miryam gave it to her, Andromache still carries the charmed necklace she was meant to give to Mor around with her. She intended to give it to Mor right away, but somehow, the opportunity never arose. With the entire Continent dissolved into complete chaos, refugee trails running from one side to the other, she simply didn’t have much time for private conversations. Besides, Mor wasn’t in Telique as much as before, meaning they rarely saw each other either way.

Alright. If Andromache is being entirely honest, she didn’t exactly put much effort into meeting her, either. She could easily have sent a letter and asked Mor to come visit, but the truth is that she simply doesn’t want to talk to her. Having a few weeks to think everything through helped calm her anger into a manageable extent – which was, of course, helped by the fact that Miryam and Drakon turned out to be alive and… well, not quite well, but well enough, she suppoes – but that still doesn’t mean she’s just going to forgive Mor. Not for her behaviour and not for the mindset behind it.

Talking to Mor now would mean having to deal with that, and she simply doesn’t have the energy to explain to her where her problem is. If Mor doesn’t figure it out herself, it’s hardly up to Andromache to help her.

She promised Miryam, though. And Miryam also has a point that some things ought to be settled in due time. So as the date when the wall is scheduled to go up (which will, as it happens, also mean Andromache’s death), she finally makes herself approach Mor after a meeting in Telique.

“We need to talk,” she says by way of greeting, making Mor spin around to her, the papers she was just studying forgotten. Before she can say anything else, Andromache adds, “Meet me in half an hour in our usual spot.”

With that, she turns around and stalks off.

Their usual spot is one of the palace’s private gardens, this one belonging traditionally to Angolere. Usually, it is visited by courtiers from her country, but with everyone so busy lately, it is entirely empty when Andromache arrives. She still walks around once to check, then sits down on a bench under a willow and waits.

Mor arrives five minutes later. She is clearly nervous, fiddling around with the sleeve of her dress as she walks. Andromache nods to the seat beside her and waits until Mor has put up a ward around them before pulling the necklace out of her pocket and holding it out to her.

The explanation she offers is quick and hard. She only offers the bare bones of the situation. Miryam, Drakon and the others are alive, they are hiding, Miryam wants Mor to visit. She does not mention Shey, or the fact that Miryam died. If Mor wants to know about these things, she will have to speak to Miryam about it.

Halfway through her explanations, Mor begins to cry. Andromache does not put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Part of her wants to, but that would send a signal to Mor she doesn’t want to send, and so she simply finishes her explanation and then waits for Mor to stop crying.

Maybe it was wrong of her to wait this long before giving the news to Mor. Letting her go on for weeks still thinking Miryam, Drakon and the others are dead was cruel, perhaps. Did she truly do it because she did not want to speak to Mor, or was it some sort of punishment? It bothers Andromache that she cannot tell and she vows to herself to do better. She once loved Mor dearly – for all that she made mistakes, she does not deserve cruelty, or punishment.

“So things between us…” Mor begins, hesitantly. “Things are fine again? We’re good.”

Andromache’s initial reaction is to snap at her, but she promised herself to be kind about this from now on, if only to make up for not delivering Miryam’s message earlier. This is, although Mor doesn’t yet know it, their final conversation. And Andromache wants a neat resolution to this, one that will leave her knowing she did everything right. She doesn’t want to be angry with Mor anymore. She just wants this settled and then she wants to move on.

“No,” she says as gently as she can manage. “I never blamed you for Miryam’s death, and so her not being dead changes nothing at all.” Mor looks completely crestfallen. She doesn’t say anything else, so it’s up to Andromache to say the final words. “Things between us are over, Mor.”

She doesn’t say that she is sorry. This conversation is already more for Mor’s sake than for hers, but there are limits to how far she will go. Maybe if Mor hadn’t thought that the sole problem was Miryam’s death, she might have been kinder.

Mor is crying again.

Andromache sighs. Still, she doesn’t reach out to comfort her. “With the wall soon going up, we wouldn’t have much of a future either way,” she says. “The Night Court and Angolere will be on different sides of the wall, with no way across.”

It isn’t the reason for why she is ending the relationship, but it might soften the blow for Mor. Let her think that the wall influenced her decision, that they might still have had a chance without it.

“I could stay in Angolere with you,” Mor sniffs.

“And leave your family behind forever? That’s not a choice I’d want you to make. Especially not over a relationship I am no longer sure about.”

She is far more than “no longer sure”, but there’s no need to say that. If not for the wall, if not for Andromache’s upcoming death, there might be some way to salvage their relationship, but Andromache doesn’t think she would be willing to make the effort. She certainly wouldn’t want Mor to make a choice as permanent as leaving her home behind for her now.

It does not make Mor cry any less, though. Andromache wishes she would stop crying long enough to think about her words and realize she is right. There’s no way Mor would want to leave her family and friends behind, not even for Andromache. But well, maybe she has a right to her tears and this is just Andromache being impatient with her. Looking at it objectively, it is probably her who is being too cold about this while Mor’s reaction is appropriate to the situation.

“Not all endings have to be bad,” Andromache offers. “I know it sometimes feels that way, but a relationship ending isn’t the end of the world. It just happens sometimes, and sometimes, it is even for the best. At times, two people are just right for each other for a time, and then they aren’t anymore, but that doesn’t mean the time before was bad or didn’t bring anything to both of them.”

That was very, very kind of her, Andromache thinks. Miryam will be satisfied. A bit cold, perhaps, but she just can’t help it. She is done with this relationship and, harsh though it may sound, done with Mor. She believes what she said – for a time, their relationship was good and she will always be grateful for that. But she sees no cause to maintain any kind of relationship with Mor after this.

“But I don’t want to go on without you,” Mor whispers.

Is it too cold if Andromache tells her that she will get over it in time? At least that’s the experience Andromache made in her two previous relationships. (Well, the first of these relationships barely lasted more than a month, but that didn’t make Andromache at eighteen feel less like she was dying when her then-boyfriend broke up with her.) On the other hand, that is probably not what Mor wants to hear right now, and given that this is her first relationship, it might be best if she makes these experiences on her own.

“You’ll manage,” she says. “I was the first person you loved – I doubt I’ll be the last.” For the sake of the good years they had, she makes herself smile. “I was happy to have met you, Morrigan. I wish you a long and happy life.” It is true, too.

Mor is crying harder again and doesn’t seem capable of saying anything, but that’s alright. Andromache would have appreciated some kind parting words from her, but she doesn’t need them. She is perfectly at peace with the way their relationship ended – this meeting’s intention was to give Mor a resolution, not her.

She gets up, inclines her head to Mor one last time, and walks out of the garden, leaving Mor alone on the bench.

----

On the Continent, the evacuations continue, the chaos showing no way of easing yet. By contrast, Prythian is almost eerily calm. The only court that is losing any territory is Spring, where everyone is busy moving hundreds and thousands of people, but up north in the Night Court, one might think there are no evacuations happening at all.

Mor enjoys the quiet. It offers a nice contrast to the storm raging inside her, and gives her all the time in the world to nurse her broken heart. After that terrible last conversation with Andromache, she fled to the cabin in the mountains where Rhysand is still recovering – or, lately, quietly seething at the fact that his father forbid him from going after Amarantha on his own – and together, they spend days in solitude.

They are a good fit these days, both of them equally miserable. For the most part, they do not talk at all. Rhysand wants to be left alone with his rage, and Mor doesn’t feel like talking about what happened with Andromache either. Well, she wouldn’t have felt like it even if Rhys had known about their relationship in the first place.

As far as she can tell, Rhys believes she is mourning Miryam and Drakon. About them, they talk once or twice, but Mor usually blocks off the conversation. She loves Rhys, but she isn’t prepared to talk about Miryam yet. Not when Miryam and their last argument are so closely tied to everything that is now wrong with her life.

Some days, she sits outside in the cold and twists the necklace in her hands. She hasn’t found the courage to actually use it yet. If Miryam wanted Mor to get it, that likely means she wants to talk to her, but what would they even talk about?

Nothing Mor might say would change anything about the facts. It won’t undo what Miryam did in the Black Land, or the argument they had about it. Nor will it erase the fact that Mor promised to protect Miryam, and then she left, and then Miryam almost died. It won’t make Andromache want her back, either.

Mor is sitting outside with the necklace again one day when Rhys sits down next to her. “What is the business with that necklace?” He asks. “A gift from a lover who left you?”

“No,” Mor chokes out. And then, before she can think any better of it, she is telling him the truth. Not everything – not a word about Andromache – but she tells him what the necklace is, what it does. She wants to mention her argument with Miryam, but every time she tries to repeat what happened, her voice abandons her.

After she is done, Rhys is silent for a while. Finally, he says, “I’m not sure if you should visit them. It would be a risk.”

“How so?” Mor asks, perking up.

“Well, if Miryam and Drakon wish for people to think they are dead, you visiting them would only put that in danger, wouldn’t it? What if father notices that you are gone and starts asking where you were?”

Mor flinches. She didn’t consider that option yet, but he is right. It would be irresponsible to visit Miryam. Even if Miryam asked for it, Mor shouldn’t… At least not right now. Maybe in a few months, once everything has settled down and she isn’t watched this closely by her uncle anymore. Maybe by then, things will have calmed down all on their own, too. Sometimes, time is the best medicine.

Yes, Mor thinks. This is right. Soon enough, things will have calmed down and it will have stopped hurting and then, she will be able to talk to Miryam again, too. It will all be alright. It just takes a little time.

----

The next two months are so busy that the time seems to move at twice the normal speed. That it takes over a month to move everyone to Cretea seemed inconvenient at first, but having people appear one after the other on Cretea actually turns out to be a blessing. That way, the first people to arrive can already start setting up a camp, scout the terrain and look for food. All of this is be painfully necessary because Cretea, densely forested and full of unknown plants and animals as it is, it definitely not an island you just want to dump a million of people onto without preparation.

By the time the last of their people arrives and Miryam closes her bridge spell, they have not one but actually five separate camps, all within less than an hour of each other, to avoid people being too densely crowded in one area and polluting the water. They also have some makeshift huts erected and catalogued most of the common fauna and flora as well as mapped the nearby parts of the island. The cartographers and scouts especially have done great work, but everyone on Cretea did their part.

Loathe as Miryam is to admit it, though, everything would have been a whole lot more difficult if not for Daín’s help. Within a day of the first people arriving on Cretea, they realized that the island is completely different from the rest of the Continent. More than half of the local plants and animals are unknown even to their experts, and it is impossible to tell which ones are dangerous. (For example, who would have thought that the tiny elephants living in the jungle can spit poison if they feel threatened?)

Daín, having apparently been the one to create Cretea as a wedding gift to Étaín, knows all the local specialities, though, and he is willing to help, which forces Miryam to put her lingering anger with him aside for the moment. To his credit, he doesn’t tie his help to any demands, doesn’t even ask Miryam and Drakon to forgive him for what he did in exchange. Drakon still seems to forgive him, even though his arm still hasn’t gotten better. Miryam doesn’t feel inclined to do the same yet.

Busy as they all are with trying to settle into Cretea and not be killed by the wildlife, she barely notices how the time passes. It’s like she blinked and suddenly, more than two months have passed since that battle on the ocean floor. On the Continent, the evacuations are drawing to a close. Not everyone is settled in yet, of course, and on the Fae side of the Continent, it is already obvious that there will be struggles over borders still to come, but everyone has reached their side of the Continent by now. Which means the wall will go up soon.

The realization hits Miryam like a punch to the chest when Andromache calmly tells her that they will cast the wall spell in less than a week. Before she even had the chance to truly comprehend what is about to happen, it’s Andromache’s last visit and they are forced to say goodbye to each other.

Andromache seems entirely calm about the situation, which just makes it more difficult for Miryam. Words rarely fail her, but now, they do. Andromache is one of her closest friends – the idea of losing her like this is unbearable. It almost feels like Miryam is killing her herself.

Andromache seems to guess her line of thought, though, because as she hugs Miryam goodbye, she whispers into her ear, “I know you like to blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault, and that you won’t listen to me when I tell you that you hold no blame for a decision I made freely. I still want you to not blame yourself for this, though. Consider it my last wish if you want.”

Miryam isn’t sure if that is a wish she will be able to honour, but she still makes herself nod. After Andromache has disappeared, she spends a long time staring at the space where she was just standing, trying not to think about anything at all. Then, she turns around and walks over to the nearest human camp.

It is perched in a valley, and Miryam finds a flat stone on a nearby hill where she sits down. From up here, she can see the entire camp, all the people moving round down there, going about their daily activities and simply living. Children are running through the camp, chasing each other in some made-up game. Fires are burning everywhere, adults preparing dinner over them.

Miryam smiles softly. Maybe in a moment, she will go down there and join the hustle, maybe find herself some dinner and join the groups of people sitting around in front of the tents. For the moment, though, she is content to simply watch.

She loves moments like this. They remind her that even if many things didn’t go the way she planned, at the end of the day, she got the most important thing she wanted, the only one that really mattered. At the end of the day, they won and they are free, and that’s all that really counts.

She just wishes Jurian was here to see this. He would have loved it as much as she does and it is so beyond cruel that he never got to see that the victory he sacrificed so much for.

“I miss you,” she whispers.

She doesn’t believe that anyone is there to listen, doesn’t even believe in an afterlife, but some things are better said out loud. For some words, it is easier to be able to pretend that there is someone listening.

“I wonder what you would make of everything if you were here.” She smiles, shaking her head slightly. “You would probably be against the wall far less than I am. You would think I’m stupid to dislike it so much, I know. We might even argue over it. I would give anything to be able to argue with you over that one more time. But mostly I just… I really wish you were here to see this. We won. And it kills me that you never got to hear about that.”

The only answer is the wind rustling in the leaves. What wouldn’t Miryam give for one chance, just once more chance to talk to Jurian. How is it that she got a second chance at life but he didn’t?

She tries to comfort herself with the knowledge that Jurian would be happy for her. If he was able to talk to her, he would probably tell her off for feeling guilty that she lives while he is gone. He would want her to live a happy life, the same thing she would have wanted for him had their positions been reversed.

“We won,” Miryam repeats once more, and then, she gets up and walks down to the camp.

----

The sunlight pierces the darkness without warning. Had Jurian been able to, he would have closed his eye against the sudden light, but as it is, he can only wait until his eye adjusts to the brightness and he can see again. Slowly, Amarantha’s face comes into focus in front of him.

“Have you missed me?” She asks.

Even if Jurian had been able to reply, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t miss Amarantha, of course, but after so long trapped alone in the dark, even the face he hates the most in the entire world is a welcome sight. He doesn’t know how long it has been since Amarantha shoved his eye into that casket, furious over the Loyalists’ defeat and clearly trying to sour the victory for Jurian, only that it felt like an eternity trapped alone in the dark, moments blurring together in a never-ending stream of terribleness.

“It’s been almost three months,” Amarantha says as if reading his thoughts and picks the ring with his eye on it up.

“Such a long time!” She seems in a good mood today, and Jurian is immediately suspicious. Her good news tend to end badly for him. “There is so much you missed. Do you want me to tell you?”

Yes. No. Jurian doesn’t know. If he still had a body, he is sure his heart would be racing. Any news that has Amarantha in such a good mood can only be terrible indeed, especially when it must be bad enough to counter her anger over the Alliance winning the war.

“Well, one thing you certainly didn’t miss was your allies looking for you,” Amarantha says casually. “Because they didn’t. They seem entirely content to leave you to rot. If you ask me, they are probably glad to be rid of you. Not that I can blame them.”

Once, Jurian might have objected – internally, at least – but now, he cannot. He has run out of possible explanations for why none of his friends came to save him yet, especially with the war now over for months. They should have come. But they didn’t, and the only possible reason is that they do not care.

“No, there was something else I wanted to tell you about,” Amarantha says. “I even considered interrupting your little time-out for it, but I thought you could use some time on your own to contemplate how little use your side winning this war was for you in the end.”

Desperately, Jurian tries to cling onto the knowledge that this war was still worth it. If they won, that must mean slavery was abolished. Millions of people must have been freed. It was worth it.

It is difficult to truly feel that way, though, when he cannot see the effects. All that’s there for him is pain and suffering, and none of his supposed friends seem to be willing to help him. It’s like they won and then forgot about him, like they had no use for him anymore and so they threw him away.

“Well, now you hear a few months too late,” Amarantha continues. She smiles at him. It is not a pleasant smile, showing far too many teeth. “Your little mortal lover – sorry, former lover – is dead.”

Jurian’s world goes entirely still. It’s a lie, is his first thought. It has to be a lie. A poor one at that, given that he knows the war is already over. Miryam cannot be dead.

“That lesser faery she betrayed you with is dead as well, although I doubt you are sad about that,” Amarantha continues. “As well as a whole bunch of other people, mortals and faeries, mostly. Ravenia sent soldiers after them, and they somehow managed to completely wipe each other out. Everyone dead, on both sides.” Her smile broadens further. “I find it beyond amusing, honestly. Although I would be really curious to know what you think about it.”

What he thinks about it? He thinks, of course, that it cannot be true. And if it was… No, he cannot bear to think about that.

“She betrayed you, after all,” Amarantha continues. “You did everything for her, and she couldn’t even be bothered to try and save you. Maybe she was too busy with that faerie prince she picked over you. Maybe she was glad to have you out of the way.”

Jurian wishes he could block out her words. He doesn’t want to hear what she is saying, but he can’t stop it. The words are like poison, all the deadlier because there is at least a spark of truth in them.

Amarantha shrugs. “If I were you, I would probably hate her. I’d be glad that she is dead.”

Jurian isn’t. He isn’t. He could never hate Miryam, could never want her dead.

But she must have hated him and wanted him dead if she never came for him. He tries to tell himself that she simply might not have had the time, that she might have come for him after she freed her people had she survived to do so, but it isn’t a good enough excuse. Had it been Miryam being tortured, he would have dropped anything to try and save her. Nothing, absolutely nothing could have been more important.

And she left him for Drakon, Drakon who wouldn’t even try to save her when she was in danger. Jurian told her to stay away from him, but she didn’t listen, and what did it get her? It’s her own damn fault if she died.

No, no, he doesn’t mean that. What is he thinking?

Amarantha smiles like he knows exactly what is going on in his head. “You are glad,” she says, and Jurian spends the entire rest of the day forcing himself to relive all the good memories he has of Miryam to prove to himself, to Amarantha, to everyone, how very much not glad he is.

----

Given that Andromache is going to die in less than half a day, she is surprisingly calm. She spent the last days settling all the needs to be settled. She visited her mother and all her remaining family, met up with any close friends and wrote a few letters that are meant to be opened only after her death. Most of the meetings went well. Her mother didn’t want to let her go at the end, hugging her again and again which just made it harder for Andromache to leave, but at the end of the day, she feels that all of the meetings were a success.

Her people are not yet entirely settled in, but her successor will see to that. Everyone will be provided for, and Andromache is sure that Ania is a good choice as a successor, someone who will govern fairly and wisely for the years to come. Everything is settled. She isn’t leaving any loose ends behind.

With only five hours to spare before she wants to meet the other queens, though, she suddenly finds herself with nothing left to do. Everything is settled, but Andromache still feels like she needs act, to somehow do one last thing even if she doesn’t know what. Her hours are so limited now, she can’t help the feeling that she ought to be using them to their fullest extent.

Yanis eventually finds her wandering through the palace aimlessly. He doesn’t say a word, just takes her by the arm and leads her to one of the gardens. They sit down amongst two rose bushes. With autumn approaching, the flowers are raining petals on the pathway. With a start, Andromache realizes that she will never see roses in full bloom again.

She swallows against the sudden tightness in her throat. In all the last months, she avoided thinking about all that dying entails. She thought about the fact that she has to die plenty, of course, but she never really allowed herself to contemplate what that means. And there were a million different things to consider, her people and the evacuations and the final council meetings keeping her so busy that she simply didn’t have time to think about it.

Now she does, though, and she doesn’t like it at all. Like most people in the world, Andromache doesn’t want to die. There are so many things she still wants to do. She would like to see Angolere rebuilt south of the wall, and see her people thrive. Should it ever become possible, she would like children of her own, and a partner to grow old with should she find someone she can imagine spending her life with. She once thought it might be Mor, but it wasn’t, and she would have liked to have the time to find someone else.

Maybe she should have asked Miryam what dying feels like. But no, that would just have made Miryam feel worse about the entire situation. Besides, she doubts bleeding out from a spear to the chest feels anything like being consumed by a spell.

She supposes at least she get to see another sunrise, as they chose dawn as the time to cast their spell. Hopefully, the morning won’t be cloudy so she will get to see the sun one last time.

Slowly, Yanis takes her hand. His rough, callused fingers squeeze hers.

“Remember our first mission, when we were rooky soldiers together?” He asks.

“When we were sent out to chase that band or faeries that had attacked the village?” Andromache asks, a smile tugging at her lips. “And you idiot thought you could get into a fistfight with one of these lion-wolf-mixture things and win?”

“It knocked my sword out of my hand!” Yanis objects. “I was panicking.”

“Lucky for you I still had both my sword and my senses, or that thing would have taken your head off.”

Yanis grins, but his smile soon fades. “Anni, I – “

A messenger bursts into the garden, nearly stumbling over his feet in his haste to bow to Andromache. “Your Majesty,” he says, holding out a letter to her. “From Queen Nakia. She said to deliver this to you.”

Frowning, Andromache takes the letter. She sees no reason why Nakia would write her a letter now, not when they are both going to die together in a few hours. She breaks the seal and unfolds the parchment.

Dear Andromache,

If all goes according to the plan, this letter will be delivered to you by midnight, which means that by then, it will be too late for you to change anything about any of it. I apologize for lying to you, but I didn’t think you would agree with my plan, and I had to do what I thought best for our people. I hope that you will be able to forgive my ploys.

For all that I believe we have all chosen worthy successors, it would be irresponsible to leave our people without any experienced leaders in a time like this. We couldn’t all die, and I trust that you and the others who remain will keep our people safe and lead them into a bright future.

It has been my honour to work with you in the last nine years.

Your friend,

Nakia

----

Queen Nakia of Scythia considers herself a practical woman. As such, it became clear to her quickly that robbing the humans of their entire leadership in one go would be a very, very bad idea. Admittedly, it was her bad idea, and at the time where she suggested it, it might not have been so bad at all, but now, there is simply no way sacrificing all six queens in one go is the right thing to do. Not when it would bring instability to their people in a situation as precarious as this one.

Fortunately, Nakia listened closely when Miryam initially explained the spell to them all. Back then, she said that the spell would work not only for the people it was tied to, but also for any close relatives. Some reading in books stolen from abandoned Fae libraries confirmed quickly enough that any close relatives to the other queens would work just as well as sacrifices.

It was not difficult to find people willing to step in for the other queens. Andromache’s mother. Sehline’s older brother. Mije’s uncle. Kjani’s grandmother. Only for Leline, there was no one since her entire family had died two years ago during an attack, so she is in the forest where they met to cast the spell along with the others.

Some part of Nakia feels bad for going behind the other queens’ backs like this. They will not be grateful to her for sparing them at the expense of their loved ones, but she is not doing it for their sakes. No, glad as she is that Andromache and the others will get to live, she is doing this solely for her country.

As for herself… Well, she had plenty of relatives of her own she might have asked, but she didn’t. A child should not die for its mother, nor a grandchild for its grandmother, and while Elmira is still young and inexperienced, Andromache and the others will easily able to support her through the initial years queen, just as Nakia herself did for so many others.

She had a long life, and a good one. For forty years, she ruled her country, kept her people safe. She watched her children and grandchildren grow up. Now, she gets to die knowing that her people will be forever free from slavery, never forced to fear the Fae again.

It is good, she thinks as she sketches symbols she does not understand into the earth around her, following the instructions Miryam left closely. The moon is standing high above in the sky.

Nakia finishes the last symbol and turns to face the others. “Shall we?” She asks.

They all look back at her. Some are crying, others firm. They all nod, though.

Nakia turns to look up at the moon. Slowly, she begins to recite the spell, keeping her gaze fixed on the moon above. It is the last thing she sees.

----

Miryam isn’t sleeping. She is lying in bed fully clothed, head resting on Drakon’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. When she senses the magical tremor running through the air, she sits up bolt upright.

“What happened?” Drakon asks, sitting up as well.

Miryam shakes her head, gasping. She can still feel the magic thick in the air, pulsing like a second heartbeat. It is not a pleasant sensation. And there, miles and miles away, she can sense something else. A barrier running through the world, cleaving it in two.

“It’s too early,” she whispers, stretching out her senses to investigate that new barrier. It is too far away for her to get a proper read, though. “Andromache said dawn.”

“The wall?” Drakon asks, turning around to her.

“Yes,” Miryam says slowly. She swings her legs over the bed’s edge and walks towards the door to the tiny hut they are sleeping in. She looks outside over the sleeping camp, as if to assure herself that they are still there. “The wall is in place now.”

----

A/N: So, this is not the last chapter after all. There will still be an epilogue coming, set 10 years after the wall went up, to wrap up some loose strings and also just... generally end on a positive note. That is obviously hard to do in the direct aftermath of basically 7+ years of extremely traumatizing events, but I do want to give off a HOPEFUL expression of the future, so an epilogue it is.

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed @aileywrites

[empyreanwritings]

Over-Protective

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Udaku!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Language (as usual), blood and gore, mentions of death, some sexual tension in between 

Summary: You’re on a path of discovering all of Hydra’s secrets, but a certain someone keeps interrupting you when you least expect it. 

A/N: This is my fic for @buckysknifecollection​ for the giveaway! Again, I am so sorry it took me so long, I have been struggling to keep up with all the fics I gotta write. Hopefully this is going to help push my motivation along. Ily so much, I really do hope you enjoy it! x

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated :) x

Hydra. A mob run by some of the most vile people in the city. No one could ever seem to get them under control, and anyone who tried ended up fired - or dead. While some politicians denied it, everyone knew they had their hands dipped in Hydra's honey pot; it was the only way they managed to stay in power so long. Pierce, who had more blood on his hands than the entire U.S. military, was the greatest example. No accusation ever seemed to stick.

Your family did its best to stay out of mob business, until Zemo killed your father. Your brother joined Steve Rogers, the only man who was willing to cross Hydra and take Zemo out. He became one of Steve's closest advisors when it came to business deals and expansion; he had a knack for ruling behind the scenes.

And your cousin, while you didn't agree with his methods, built his own world within the city. He seized the dock's out from under Hydra's control and made a new name for himself: Killmonger. Most of the family didn't approve of what he did to avenge your father, but you didn't mind much. The only time you actually despised seeing Erik was Thanksgiving because he always managed to swipe the last piece of pumpkin pie before you could. That was a worse betrayal than joining the mob could ever be in your eyes.

Despite everything, you still felt like it wasn't enough. You wanted to see Hydra burn. Everything they built, everything they stood for, you wanted to watch it crumble.

You slipped through crowds of people, doing your best not to be noticed by the man you were following. Working for The Daily Bugle taught you how to go unseen in order to get a good story. There were times you weren't always successful - like the first time you met Steve and managed to knock pipes all over the ground - but the longer you worked, the better you became. You tailed this man for miles, and he hadn't noticed you yet.

He stopped in one of the cafes, and you were just about to follow him in when someone grabbed you by your elbow and yanked you into the alley. The surprise of it caught you off guard, giving you no time to reach for your pepper spray before your attacker pinned your arms against the wall.

But you were surprised to look up and see it wasn't an attacker at all - it was Steve.

"What the hell are you doing?" You pitched your head forward to get him to stumble back, and once he let you go, you put a few feet between the two of you. You trusted him, but you were pissed he made you lose your only lead.

"Nakia called," he replied casually. "She said you were digging into things you shouldn't have been."

"Exposing Hydra's sex trafficking ring could be the biggest story of my career! And it can help us take them down once and for all!"

Steve huffed, a slight flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "There is no 'us' in all of this. You know your brother wants you to stay out, and I have to agree with him. Anyone who digs into Hydra's work disappears and gets recovered in the river a few days later."

You rolled your eyes. Every time Steve tried to use the "Your brother said so" excuse, you knew it wasn't just your brother. Steve let you sit in on a few of his interrogations, so you could work on your mob series. He didn't have to, but as soon as he found out you were T'Chaka's daughter, he knew you weren't going to just give up on what you were doing. Your entire family was filled with stubborn people. He figured if he gave you a little insight on what his life was like, you wouldn't feel the need to dig deeper. But he should have known you weren't going to stop until you uncovered the truth about Hydra and why they ordered the hit on your father.

"Stark said-"

"Of course Stark is behind this," he grumbled. "That man would be willing to sacrifice everyone that works for him in order to get a good scoop."

"Hey! You might not always get along with him, but he's actually on your side. He doesn’t want me to do this piece either because he knows what the repercussions can be." You shifted from side to side, Steve's piercing gaze suddenly making you feel like a bundle of nerves. "But he agreed to let me do it by myself, so I'm not dragging anybody else down with me."

"How does that make it better?"

"You will try to find something negative in everything I say, won't you?"

"Maybe I do because I'm the only one using common sense here!"

"Common sense?" You barked out a laugh. "You manage to have common sense in that thick skull of yours?"

You weren't sure how - or when - it happened, but you were suddenly very aware that you stood toe to toe with Steve. Your chin stuck out defiantly, and he rolled his shoulders back. Neither of you made a move to stand down, and it made your heart hammer inside of your chest.

It was a terrible time to notice, but you never realized how blue his eyes were. When he was angry, one of his eyebrows twitched, and you had to suppress the feeling to reach up and make it stop yourself. It was an urge you never had before. The feeling of being this close to him suddenly made you feel too hot, so you were the first one to step back. Reluctantly.

You pretended not to notice the disappoint flood his features because if he enjoyed being close to you, that meant everything was going to change. You weren't ready for something like that.

He sighed and ran his hands down his face. "I'm trying to look out for you. Your family doesn't need to bury another person this year."

You hated that he was right, but it wasn't his decision to make. You refused to let your father die in vain after all of the good he did for this world. He didn't deserve to meet his end the way he did, and if something happened to you while taking them down then so be it.

"I'm a big girl, Steve. I can handle myself."

You didn't give him a chance to argue with you again. You warned him that you would start screaming for help if he tried to stop you and took off out of the alley in hopes of finding your mark. He was long gone by the time you made it to the entrance of the alley, but you had a feeling you knew where he was going. You'd be able to catch up to him before the end of the day.

Steve watched you go, irritated that he couldn't convince you to stop digging. Your stubbornness was sexy when you weren't using it against him, but even then, he couldn't help but feel a little impressed.

He quickly dialed Bucky's number and moved back into the alley, so no one could hear him. He never knew what strangers were secretly involved with Hydra, and he didn't want anyone ratting him out to get into their good favor.

"Hey, Buck, I need you to do me a favor," he mumbled. "Y/N was looking into James Winderfield. Get his schedule and find out where he was going around this time. I need to get to him before she does."

---

Charming your way into a building with strong security was a lot harder than you expected it to be. The front desk workers weren't impressed with you slinging around titles. Who cared if you were supposedly the wife of a prince overseas? They saw couples like that all the time on TV, so they weren't fawning over you, but you got lucky because they just didn't want to deal with you. You imagined they had to deal with a lot of stuck up clients, and they were bending their last straw.

You made your way towards the elevators past security, slipping the fake rock off your finger and sliding it back into your purse. Not a single person was looking at you, and yet it felt like everyone was aware of your presence. Sneaking into a rival mob made you more paranoid than usual. You ended up working yourself into a small panic attack just as you made it into the elevator.

You were about to let out a small sigh of relief when a familiar, annoyingly smug, face stepped in and made sure no one got in after him when the doors closed.

If Steve Rogers was anything, he was a persistent man. You wanted to knock that persistence right in his nose, but you had a feeling you would break your hand before you did any real damage to that chiseled face of his. And it really was chiseled.

The two of you rode in silence for a few moments. He waited until you were two floors away to your destination to hit the emergency stop button, which made you throw your hands up and groan in total frustration. His lips twitched at the corners, and you knew right away he was enjoying this - and that irritated you more than actually being stopped.

"Oh, don't worry, the elevator will get fixed eventually," he assured you. "I won't be late to my meeting with Mr. Winderfield." You looked up at him, eyes growing wide and your chest beginning to heave. He furrowed his brows in mock confusion, and you knew he was gearing up to say something slick. "What's the matter? Was that the man you were trying to follow this morning?"

You ground your teeth together. "You knew that already. How the hell did you find out so quickly?"

"I have a feeling my sources are better than your sources."

"You can't call Bucky intimidating people a good source," you quipped.

Steve shrugged and leaned his hands back against the small railing. He clearly had no intention of letting you speak to Mr. Winderfield alone; why else would he show up here and let you get this far? If he set up a meeting, he was willing to entertain your plans but only on his terms.

You reminded yourself to thank Nakia for making your day a lot harder than you wanted it to be, but you understood where she was coming from. She wanted to keep you safe. She had been there the day you and your family found out about your father, and she didn't want them to go through that again. It wasn't entirely a bad thing. It really wasn't. Her protectiveness just made everything that much more difficult to obtain.

"Fine. What will it take for you to let me sit in and speak with him?" You asked, trying your best to hide the frustration in your voice.

"You don't speak with him at all." You opened your mouth to protest, but he stepped forward and pressed a finger to your lips. "You don't speak to him at all. I will make this seem like a casual conversation about Hydra encroaching on my territory, and you will take notes because you're my secretary. Write down names and locations, anything you may need to work your way up to Pierce. You will not say a word about who you are; you are just a secretary. Do you understand?"

Your mouth felt dry. The assertive tone to his voice made you understand why women seemed to fall at his feet when he called. His hands were so close to you, they could easily reach down and grab your chin or your throat and make you listen to every word falling from his lips. The words "I understand, Sir," were dancing on the tip of your tongue, and you wanted to slap yourself silly for even thinking it.

You quickly blinked and cleared your throat to recover. "Fine, fine, but don't skip any hard questions just because you don’t want me digging, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Steve hit the button again, and the elevator instantly sprung back to life. Once you stepped out, the cooler air of the floor hit your face and brought you back down to earth. Being that close to Steve made you feel hot, and it was the second time it happened today. You weren't sure what would go down if either of you ever made it to a third.

---

The meeting started off well. You understood how Steve managed to build his empire; he was a charming man, full of life and control. He commanded a room the second he stepped in. Not a single person would dare to take it from him or speak over him. Sometimes his control wasn't in words alone but in his body language as well.

Steve never sat down when he spoke. He kept his shoulders relaxed, but you could see the guarded expression on his face. He wasn't worried about losing control of the situation, but he was always prepared for the worst. You couldn't help but wonder if he was more on edge because of your presence. He didn't need to say it out loud - you could tell by the way he acted - your protection was most important to him. Your family didn't deserve to lose another person. And maybe he didn't want to lose you either.

Unfortunately, even with Steve trying his best, the meeting did go south. Winderfield knew who you were before you walked in. He played along for a little while, pretending he didn't know who your father was. It was when you tried to leave that you were greeted by the barrel of his gun. Neither of you knew, but an order was put out on anyone who tried to get information about T'Chaka's death - higher reward if the person taken out was family.

Steve should have predicted something like this, and he kicked himself for not doing so.

He looked between you and Winderfield, carefully and silently calculating his next move. The office was too wide. He knew he wouldn't be able to push you out of the line of fire before a bullet hit you.

"Don't even think about moving, Rogers," Winderfield hissed. "She'll be dead before you blink an eye."

"Wouldn't I be of more value to Hydra alive?" You piped up. Steve looked over at you as if you had two heads, and he wanted to yell at you to keep your mouth shut, but he didn't. Mainly because he worried that you would kill him as soon as you got the chance for doing so.

Winderfield scoffed. "What the hell are you going on about?"

"You want Killmonger's territory, right? Newsflash: I'm his cousin. He'll be willing to make a deal if there is sign of life." Erik loved you, but Steve didn't believe he'd give up his own territory for you. He was too unpredictable to trust, yet you spoke as if you believed your words wholeheartedly. "It would be a waste to let me die and not consider those possibilities."

There was a moment of hesitation in Winderfield's eyes, and Steve used the opportunity to draw his gun and shoot. The impact of the bullet made him drop his gun, but not before he got one shot in. Steve heard you yelp, and he turned to make sure you were okay. You were clutching your arm, streams of red pouring down your white sleeve. He was thankful it wasn't anything fatal; Mr. Winderfield couldn't say the same. Steve knew he landed a good shot. The man wouldn't survive the blood loss.

He dashed to your side, murmuring promises of patching you up once the two of you made it out of the building. You had to take the stairs since security was coming up the elevator. He practically had to carry you down the last few flights - partly because you were out of breath, but also due to the dizziness that started to settle in. You weren't sure if it was the thrill of everything going on or the blood still pouring from your arm, but you would have passed out if it weren't for Steve.

As he held you up, you noticed the way his muscles flexed under his shirt. It was a terrible time to notice something like that, you knew it, but you couldn't stop yourself from giving his bicep the slightest squeeze. If he caught on to what you did, he didn't make it known. Which you appreciated. If he thought you were feeling him up, his ego would never let you live it down.

A car was already waiting for you at the back exit, as if Steve knew something like this would happen. Ever the prepared man. Bucky sat in the driver's seat, his eyes going wide when Steve lifted you into the back. There wasn't time to question what happened; a small security group burst through the door you had just ran through and started firing at the car.

"Go!" Steve ordered, half a shout and half a plea.

He grabbed the back of your neck and forced your head down into his lap to avoid any of the shots. The tires of the car squealed to life as Bucky sped out of the alley. Your stomach lurched when he swerved into traffic, and based on the honks you heard, drivers weren't too happy about it either.

"I think I'm going to be sick," you whimpered. You started to loosen the pressure on your wound, and Steve instantly pressed his hand against it for you.

"Where should we go?" Bucky asked once he knew no one was tailing the three of you.

"Natasha's. She's far enough out of the city that we'll notice if someone is still following us."

Bucky sucked in a breath. "You know she's not going to like us showing up unannounced. With Wanda being pregnant and all-"

"She owes me," he quipped with such a finality in his tone that Bucky didn't bother to argue.

You didn't care where you ended up, you just silently hoped it would be somewhere with a suitable first aid kit. And maybe a bucket for you to finally throw up in.

---

Bucky was right, Natasha wasn't happy to see Steve on her doorstep, but she ushered the three of you in anyways. Steve was lucky looks couldn't kill because Natasha glared daggers at the back of his head the entire time. She only looked away when she realized you were going limp against his side. You thought you heard her mumble something about 'talking about this later' but you weren't entirely sure.

Steve guided you upstairs to the master bathroom. Droplets of blood hit the white tile, and you flinched at how disgusting it must have looked. You also felt bad because it was clear Natasha and her wife did a lot to keep their house looking clean. And here you were, walking through it with a trail of blood coming from you.

He helped you onto the counter before he started rummaging through everything for the first aid kit. You leaned back, resting your head against the mirror, and took several deep breaths. The wound couldn't have been too deep, but it was enough to make you feel queasy. Other people's blood didn't affect you as much as seeing your own did. Your blood was supposed to be inside your body, so when it wasn't, your brain worked overtime to make you feel faint.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as he cleaned you up. You managed to hold in your groans even when he started to stitch the wound. Every time you flinched, Steve would pause and let you get used to the pain before continuing on. He was gentle. And attentive. He paid attention to even the slightest change in breathing to gauge how you were doing and continued on accordingly.

"You're a little too good at stitches," you teased quietly, not able to get yourself to speak much louder. "Should I be worried about your meetings always ending up in shootouts?"

Steve looked up at you, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips. "You admitting you worry about me in general?"

"I'm worried about my brother, actually. Since you drag him along to all of them."

He hummed in response, not believing your words for a second. You weren't a terrible liar; you just weren't sure what the truth was right now.

Did you care about your brother's safety when he was around Steve? Of course you did. But your worry didn't stem from Steve's ability to protect him. He showed you today that he was quick to act when it came to protecting others. There was just a small voice in your mind that kept pushing you to admit you cared about Steve's safety too. Not because of your brother, but because you cared about him in general. Even if he was a pain in your ass.

"You saved my life today," you mentioned with a smile. "Thank you."

"I'd do it again."

You chuckled. "Because my brother would kill you if you didn't?"

"No," he paused, giving himself a moment to think about that answer, and shook his head. "Well, yes, but that's not the only reason."

"Oh?"

"Don't pretend like you don't already know what that is."

You trapped your bottom lip between your teeth. You did know, but was it wrong of you to want him to say it out loud? He was a man that made your stomach do cartwheels with a single look. His smile made any woman - yourself included - swoon. He could have anyone he wanted in this world, and all you wanted was for him to admit that he only wanted you.

You wondered if that was moving too fast, so you stayed quiet.

"I care about you too," you assured him.

He paused again. A beat of silence passed, and he leaned over to press a kiss on your forehead. He didn't say it, but you knew he was thinking it. He cared about you just as much.

And that was enough for now.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, we’ve added to our friends to lovers rec list. You can find part one here and there will also be a part three (and possibly a part four!) up eventually, which will be linked here when it’s been posted. We hope you enjoy these fics! Happy reading.

1) Roses In The Rain | Mature | 5267 words

“Don’t- I know what you’re going to ask, and I�� Harry, I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please. You know that I can’t.”

Louis had his six siblings and his old house with its falling-apart porch to take care of. This town was where people still approached him, 8 years after high school graduation, to tell him that they loved him as Danny in Grease. This town was where he had his pick of suitors, where he had his first kiss, where he took his first steps, where his mama lived, died, and was buried, and he couldn’t leave just to follow some man that he loved.

Harry, for now, seemed to understand that.

“Okay, baby,” Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Okay.”

2) Candy In Your Mouth (I Know You Love Me) | Explicit | 6937 words

Things have shifted since last Christmas.

3) Glimpse Of The Silhouettes | Explicit | 7181 words

Harry isn't sure what the rules are for this. It's hard to believe that there are any, that's there's a handbook just waiting for him to buy: why is my best mate getting hard in my lap when I touch his arse?

4) Woke Up Feeling Knotty | Explicit | 7903 words

Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof.  When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them.  Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

5) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

It's never been a thing. Not until now.

6) Got It Right Such A Long Time Ago | Explicit | 9699 words

Four months into One Direction's hiatus, Louis comes to stay with Harry after a bad breakup.

7) (You're Gonna See Me In A) New Light | Mature | 13631 words

A fake relationship AU where everyone knows it's real but Louis.

8) As A Memento From Me | Explicit | 15817 words

Five lives in which Harry and Louis didn’t end up together, and one in which they did.

9) I Put A Spell On You | Explicit | 17525

A BBC/Secret Santa mashup featuring Captain Niall, our intrepid weatherman/amateur matchmaker, rather clueless sports reporter Liam, charming political analyst Zayn, and cheeky entertainment reporter Louis. Harry is the new fashion correspondent who prefers to dress like a flamingo. And pining. There’s a lot of pining.

10) Oblivious | Explicit | 19095 words

Where Louis gets a little crush on Luke and for some reason Harry starts acting weird.

11) Break Open The Sky | Explicit | 20372 words

Werewolf AU. Harry might be a werewolf, but he still wants to experience Uni like everyone else. Turns out he learns a lot.

12) Runnin’ Like You Did | Explicit | 20061 words

The college AU where Louis knows how to hold a grudge and is definitely not in love with Harry Styles.

13) UN(RE)SOLVED. | Explicit | 20873 words

The ghoul boys are back, but this time around there are some unresolved feelings involved. Harry is a skeptic, Louis is not. Watch them go on their ongoing investigation into the question: are ghosts real?

14) Hats Off To My Distant Hope | Explicit | 20990 words

Harry is in White Eskimo. Louis is in London.

15) The Way The Storms Blow | Explicit | 20649 words

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

16) Love Like Wildfire | Explicit | 21774 words

Louis was an Omega and a Prefect. Harry was an Alpha and a little rascal. They were mates, drawn to each other since they first met in the Hogwarts Express. They worked well like that, or at least they tried, which only made their relationship way more interesting.

17) Indestructible | Explicit | 24423 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

18) A Whole New World | Not Rated | 24967 words

Louis has moved into his new apartment to start his new job as a teacher. Things would be great. If only his arsehole neighbour didn't wake him up every morning by playing piano.

19) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

20) Brooklyn Saw Me | Explicit | 28537 words

In the cold and unforgiving city of New York, Louis doesn't have a home and Harry wants to give him one. But as their heartstrings become increasingly intertwined, and the snow continues to fall, home is getting harder and harder to find.

21) Rivers ‘Til I Reach You | Explicit | 29315 words

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

22) If Ignorance Be Bliss | Mature | 30429 words

Uni AU: Harry is too experienced, and Louis just wants to get to experience him.

23) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

24) Welcome Back From The Friend Zone | Mature | 32354 words

The one where an idea to create a fake wedding with the sole intent to receive gifts from billionaires took a turn no one, but also everyone, saw coming.

25) The List | Mature | 32074 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

26) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

An A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

27) The Sun Will Rise With My Name On Your Lips | Explicit | 37927 words

When Eleanor breaks up with Louis he finds it hard to keep pretending that Harry isn’t what he’s wanted since the day he first met him.

28) Runner On Third | Explicit | 39643 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is not BL.

The AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

29) My Sweetest Downfall | Mature | 42048 words

Louis is a retired guardian angel. After the death of his last charge, he became jaded. Humans die—what use is prolonging the inevitable?

He's more than happy to forget about humanity altogether until one day, when Louis is pulled from his desk job for a new assignment: protect One Direction's Harry Styles. It doesn't help that there's something about Harry that Louis can't resist, and it's making him question everything he's ever known. Humans are strictly off limits, and breaking that rule means risking everything, but Harry just might be worth it.

This is a story about forgiveness and discovery, featuring an angel who wants to be a little more human and a human who is so much more than he seems.

30) For the Sake of Propriety | Mature | 52360 words

Louis Tomlinson is the caretaker of an estate that is not truly his, and when his Uncle calls upon him to take it back, Louis knows he will soon be out on the streets with four overly zealous sisters to care for.  His only solution: wed the eldest two off and pray for the best.  When an even better solution unexpectedly presents itself in the form of the charming Mr. Styles, Louis is faced with a difficult choice.  But as with all things in the regency era, reputation very well may threaten to outweigh the fleeting matters of his heart.

31) The Bachelor | Explicit | 53953 words

The one where Harry dates six other guys and still falls in love with Louis Tomlinson.

32) We’ve Got the World in Our Hands | Explicit | 54964 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

A mutants/superpowers AU. Louis and his friends attend the Cowell Institute for General Education and Mutant Training in London; when Louis meets Harry, the newest student at the Cowell Institute, he immediately recruits Harry to help play matchmaker for his friend Zayn. Harry and Louis are so caught up in meddling in Zayn's love life, though, that they don't notice that their own friendship is progressing into something more. Meanwhile, an ominous threat up north grows slowly until suddenly, no mutant - or human - is safe.

33) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 49873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

34) Since I’ve Found You | Mature | 74005 words

Louis woke up on the morning he was meant to volunteer at the Feed the Homeless program at St. Mary's church hoping for an opportunity to give back a little to a city that has given him everything he could ever want. Little did he know, there was one more great thing waiting there for him; a boy with radiant green eyes in a weathered jacket and a beat-up backpack slung over his shoulders.

35) Saving Symphony Hall | Mature | 124766 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

36) Falling Into You | Mature | 143517 words

In the grand scheme of adolescence and boyhood, Harry was still working himself out, so far with little luck. But four things he could say for certain: 1) he'd been at the top of his class all through primary and secondary school, 2) he was the shittiest alpha to ever walk the earth, 3) Liam Payne never let him forget it, and 4) he’d been in love with this boy, Louis Tomlinson, ever since he was fifteen years old.

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[sasuhinasno1fan]

A promise to keep you safe- Lukadrien June Day 1

It’s here! My second @lukadrien-june​. I haven’t started s4 but just going off what I’ve heard others talk about, I don’t think I will. Instead I’ll just focus on my love for lukadrien which by this time last year had been a small growing love but is now my top ship of the whole show. Sorry Adrienette, just not really doing it for me anymore, but I still love you. Anyway, back to this month long event. This story was inspired by the k-drama, The Last Empress, which is basically about a normal girl who marries into the royal family. However, she finds out it was all a lie and that the royal family is corrupt and messed up and decides she’s going to bring them down. The head of security is an inside man also hoping to bring them down and the two get closer. We were robbed of them getting together in the show, but you can’t deny that’s where they were going, no matter how that show ended. I hope this doesn’t count as salt towards Gabriel, cause I can see him doing this and Audrey, well I needed a bad guy. Anyway, enjoy. Promise

Luka watched his sister pretty up the gift bag, trying not to think of the reason he had it in the first place. The royal family of France was, well, corrupt. It hadn’t always been like that, or maybe it had been but no one ever noticed because there were actual people who cared who spoke louder. To Luka, it was just the people he had to live ruling over his life. Then things changed.

He’d been on the Liberty about to sit down for a movie with his sister when they got a call no one ever wanted. Their mom, who’d been going to visit a friend had been hit in a hit and run and died. Having to go identify the body was one of the worst things in Luka’s life. The funeral, the Viking send-off she wanted (a safe version), the fear that they’d lose the Liberty and each other had it not been for an anonymous donation for the boat to stay with them and to help with Luka’s emancipation and getting custody of his sister.

During all this, he’d gotten a letter with an SD card. The card had a video, a traffic cam. It showed his mother walking back home when a black SUV suddenly came and ran into her. He watched the driver get out and look annoyed as he nudged Anarka with his foot. That driver was the King. The letter stated that the King’s engagement was used as an alibi to keep him clean and his car had seemingly vanished. If he wanted to help take the corrupt monarchy down, he needed to work at the castle. The only open position was part of the royal Imperial Guard. He’d promised his mom back when he was in lycée, he’d stay out of fights, but he hoped she’d forgive this just once. With a friend’s help, he created a fake identity, knowing the name Couffaine would raise flags with the King, passed the written exam and had been the only person still standing in the physical. He told Juleka to say he’d gone traveling to deal with their mother’s death and stay with her girlfriend if she thought it safe. He’d entered the palace, not knowing how things would go or even who to look for when it came to joining to bring the monarchy down.

Imagine his surprise when it turned out the Crown Prince was the one who sent him the letter.

“Why are you doing this?” Luka had growled, holding Prince Adrien by his collar in the unused wing of the castle he’d been asked to come to.

“Because it doesn’t matter who my father is, he deserves to be punished. I wish I could say he hasn’t always been like this but I know he has. Isn’t it strange that the Crown Prince almost never leaves the castle and neither did my mother after marrying my father?  My father has always been like this. My mother tried to bring him down and she’s dead. I’m not going to stop until I finish what she started.”

So he agreed to help, but he was cautious. For all he knew, the Prince would turn against him. He had quite the team already. Marinette, his personal assistant, whose grandfather had his heirlooms stolen by the King after refusing to sell them. Alya and Nino, Adrien’s PR team. Alya’s younger twin sisters and Nino’s younger brother all had rare blood types and needed a surgery for a simple procedure. Said blood type was also shared with the King and after an accident he had, the blood had been ripped from the kids. The children had gotten sicker and now stayed at the hospital waiting for another shipment. Chloe, who was the daughter of the King’s newest wife, had been insulted beyond believe by the King and treated like dirt. And now him, a person’s who mother was taken too early and the King wouldn’t take reasonability.

It became clear very quickly that the Prince, that Adrien meant what he said. He was good at pretending to be the prefect prince and obedient son, but he’d been collecting seeds and releasing them too slowly. First with the announcement of Duke Felix, nephew to the King was actually his illegitimate son. Then starting to release the questions of what happened to the Queen, starting with leaving clues to her real body.

He could see that doing all this was taking a toll on Adrien. The public was getting distressed and people wanted to point fingers. Luka wanted to help but instead Adrien wanted to focus on getting more information about Anarka’s death. The cover up, the moving of her body to be found else were, finding the missing car, finding out Nathalie’s whole involvement in all this. It started to boil up emotionally for Luka and after nearly taking care of the King himself, he left the castle and sat in front of his mother’s grave for hours before Adrien found him there.

“It’d be so easy to kill him, to make him pay.” Luka said, still holding onto his anger.

“It would be, but I don’t think your mother would want that.”

Luka remembered the anger just releasing at the thought of what his mother would tell him if he’d been closer to killing the King. “My mom was this wild chaos driven person. She came from a proper family and hated it. So when she got older, she went her own way. She raised us with such trust that we knew hiding things from her wouldn’t help us and we never wanted to disappoint her. I used to get into so much trouble with fighting. I guess my empathic ways really had a hard time dealing with everything and I would lash out. She was the one who encouraged me to use my music to speak, not my fists. I was never this weird person or uncontrollable child. I was her kid and she loved me and she didn’t deserve this.” He stared at her headstone. “She hated the cold.”

He hadn’t been expecting Adrien to take his scarf off, exposing his neck to the cold fall weather and wrap it around the headstone as best he could.

“I don’t know if this is enough, but I hope it helps. I’ll keep him from going too far, I promise. We’ll avenge you so you can rest easy knowing your kids are safe.” Adrien promised out loud.

If Luka hadn’t known it then, he knew it now. Prince Adrien Agreste was a kind person, nothing like his father and if the monarchy was ever to continue, would be France’s greatest ruler. He took so much on his shoulders and never said a word about it. So Luka promised himself he’d do whatever it took to lighten the load. Which lead him to now. It was a small thing, but he got his sister to pretty up the bag with a new scarf in it for Adrien.

“All done.” Juleka said, pushing the bag to her brother. “You know, I saw the scarf on Mom’s headstone. Rose said the scarf is actually pretty expensive.”

“I don’t think he cares about that.”

“No, I guess not.” Luka knew his sister worried about what he was doing but with the soft look on her face, he had a feeling she knew he was safe. “I think Mom would have liked him. She would have totally adopted him.”

Luka smiled to himself at the thought of his mom attacking the King just to protect Adrien. “Yeah, she would. I better go. Be safe, ok? Let me know what Rose’s parents say about you going with her to Achu.”

“I will as long as you stay safe too.”

“I promise.”

                                                       _____________

Adrien stretched out his neck. Being ordered by his step-mother to organize the annual bazar was weird. Usually the Queen would take care of organizing it but somehow Audrey ended up convince his father that Adrien and Felix should do it as Crown Princes. Felix wanted nothing to do with it and even though Felix was on his side, Adrien wasn’t about to force his brother into it since he had to announce to everyone who Felix really was in order to forward their plans. He had no clue how his mom had done this every year. Even with a bases of what to go off, it was a lot of work. Not to mention Audrey was monopolizing all the Queen’s staff that could help him with this. He was worried what she had in store for him and if his father would care for a few moments like he usually did.

A knock on the door interrupted his break. Hoping it was Marinette with more info he needed, he called for the person to come in. He was surprised when he saw it was Luka.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had the day off?”

“I do. I had to go get something.” Adrien then noticed Luka was hiding something behind his back. He raised an eyebrow at the bodyguard, who only smiled before pulling a gift bag from behind his back and placing it on the table. 

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Adrien was usually cautious when people gave him gifts as a fault, but he knew he could trust the people in his group. So he opened the bag and pulled out the deep blue scarf. The colour reminded him of the colour Luka used to have in his hair.

“You kept my mom warm and I know she’d ring my ear if I left you to get cold.” Luka explained.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” Luka plucked the scarf from Adrien and slowly wrapped it around his neck as to not startle him. “It looks good on you.”

Adrien pressed his face into the scarf, hiding his blush. He wondered if it said something that he didn’t flinch as much with Luka putting the scarf around his neck as he sometimes did with Nino throwing an arm around his neck. Maybe because they had the chance to interact more or maybe, when around Luka, Adrien just felt things he thought he wouldn’t feel.

Luka just had a way of getting past a person’s walls.

                                                   ___________

Luka tried not to feel rage. The royal family just didn’t give up. Audrey had practically ordered Adrien to take care of the annual bazar and then dragged Chloe and Felix – The Forgotten Royals as she played them up to be – to a photoshoot with the King that ran over into the bazar, leaving Adrien the only member of the royal family to attend the bazar. Audrey came down with a sudden illness.

The auction had been going on, still no sign of Chloe, Felix or the King when they reached the final item. An antique clock from the King’s collection. Luka watched Adrien talk about the clock, his hand on it when he yanked it away with a sudden ‘ouch’. He watched as he joked to the crowd about how metals retain heat and to not place the clock in direct sunlight. Luka remembered trying to understand how an antique clock, that had been out of the sun, could be hot. Unless there was something inside radiating heat. It what felt like snapshots, he’d warned Adrien, thrown the clock away and pulled Adrien to the floor as the bomb inside exploded. To see Adrien unconscious, blood dripping from the shallow cut on his neck, though at that moment, it looked much worse, it scared him. He barely even recognised the King as he picked Adrien up to get him to the medical wing. He wasn’t sure how long the concern the king held would last. Adrien didn’t stay in the medical wing long once he woke up. He demanded to stay in his room while he recovered and once the doctor set up his IV bag next to his bed and gave him a dose of pain killers, Luka was told to stay with the Prince and watch over him.

Luka knew as head of the guard for Adrien, he had paperwork to fill out for the incident, but he couldn’t move. He realised he was starting to feel stifled in his suit and stood up, hoping to duck out to change but stopped when something grabbed his hand.

Adrien looked up at him with lidded eyes, eyes that screamed fear laced with pain. “Don’t go, please?”

Dropping back down onto his chair, Luka held Adrien’s hand, using his other to wipe the tears that escaped the green eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Those same green eyes locked on the one scratched Luka had gotten. He felt like such a failure for not keeping Adrien safe, for letting him get hurt worse than he did.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s just a scratch. Just focus on getting better, ok?”

‘Get better so I don’t go crazy and kill either your father or Audrey. I haven’t decided yet.’

Adrien gently squeezed Luka’s hand. “Promise me you won’t leave?”

Luka pulled his hand away enough to link pinkies with the Prince. It didn’t matter that they were adults, this was how he swore things.

“I promise, I won’t leave you.” he pressed a kiss onto the interlocked pinkies and watched the tension leave Adrien.

Adrien made promises to him and his family and this was one Luka would keep forever.