#you have TIES swearing loyalty to just about anyone and not being able to keep a cow alive

[kjclfaller]

cleo's limited life episode is soooo ridiculous I had to pause and scream and bang my head against my desk like multiple times

[barbarab1707-blog]

About Dany the Dragon, chains, and how Jon sealed his fate at the Dragonpit meeting

Daenerys is a dragon. I think no one can argue with that. She calls herself the Mother of Dragons, people call her the Dragon Queen. 

She also sees herself as a dragon, as per this:

And this:

Olenna even tells her: “You’re a dragon, be a dragon” which is also the “counsel” Missandei gives her before her death, “Dracarys” (=be a dragon).

And at the end the showrunners show us this:

Dany has finally completely embraced her inner dragon.

How does this tie in with the Dragonpit meeting? Well, this scene is full of foreshadowing of what is bound to happen in season 08, especially regarding Dany the Dragon and Jon’s fate.

Before the dragonpit meeting, we have this piece of dialogue: “Dragons don’t understand the difference between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children. Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.”

So, dragons don’t make the distinction between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Dany being a dragon, she is the same. 

Which is shown by this (land):

Dany not making the difference between which lands belong to her or not, could be further illustrated when Dany tells Jon this in s08: “what happens when they demand you press your claim and take what’s MINE.” She considers the 7 Kingdoms to be hers, when they are, by right, Jon’s.

This (livestock):

And this (children):

The second part of the sentence about letting dragons roam free is more important though. The Dragonpit was built in order to contain the dragons and control the damage they could do. 

In Dany’s case, what prevents her doing too great a damage, what controls her inner dragon and prevents it to “roam free” are her counsellors. They are her Dragonpit if one could say. Jorah, Barristan, Tyrion, all helped at one point or another to stop her unleashing her inner dragon, which manifests as anger. They also all failed at one point or another.

From the beginning of season 04, Dany herself started slowly slowly fearing her inner dragon, her own power and anger, which coincided with the moment where she started fearing her children’s power and wildness. This culminated with her locking and chaining Rhaegal and Viseryon in s04e10 and thus, trying to repress her nature.

However, trying to repress her nature didn’t seem to work all that well for her.

Besides, while his brothers were in chains, Drogon was still “roaming free”, which could mean that, as much as Dany tried to repress her impulsive and prone to anger nature, she still couldn’t fight it completely. Something that is confirmed when she feeds Meereenese nobles to the still chained Rhaegal and Viseryon mid-season 05, after Barristan’s death which angered her. 

Moreover, at that point of time, she doesn’t have anyone to keep her in check anymore, as Jorah is in exile, and Barristan is dead. Instead, she has Daario and Missandei encouraging her to embrace her inner dragon. Dany starts reconciling with it when she escapes the fighting pits on Drogon’s back. She is free again to be who she is. She embraces again her inner dragon when she burns the khals and takes over the khalasar (something that isn’t hers to begin with but feels entitled to have).

She wants to go full on dragon when she makes that speech to Tyrion when she returns to Meereen:”I will crucify the masters, I will set their fleets afire, kill every last one of their soldiers and return their cities to the dirt. That, is my plan.” Tyrion, who has taken Jorah’s and Barristan’s vacant positions, manages however to temper her first impulse. 

But, it’s interesting to note that he was the one to set Rhaegal and Viseryon free from their chains which was 2 episodes prior to her unleashing her anger on the khals.

Tyrion freeing them from their chains is interesting on a symbolic level and as foreshadowing as well, as in season 07, Tyrion’s bad decision making is what provokes Dany’s anger more and more, progressively awakening her inner dragon.

That’s when another comes in to help keep it in check once again: Jon.

From mid-season 07 until the end of s08e04, Jon is the one to act as Dany’s chains/Dragonpit.

However, s05 Dany, Jorah, Barristan, Tyrion, Varys and Jon all forgot something important:

You are damn right, Jorah. No one can tame Dany’s inner dragon, not even herself. (Sorry about the typo in the picture, I got it elsewhere, I’m too lazy to make my own).

And they forgot this:

Interesting we got reminded of that at the Dragonpit meeting. I think we heard that one before, didn’t we?

Hey, look! Drogon is in chains…Kraznys is at the other end of the chains, thinking he is in charge. But Dany is actually the one holding the whip in that scene. She is the master, the one with power. And hey, Kraznys even calls Drogon “a beast”. Doesn’t that remind us of something?

I’m not saying Jon is Kraznys, I’m just pointing the fact they both see dragons as beasts and both think dragons can be controlled, bound to their will, or in other words, chained to them. In Kraznys’ case, it was an actual dragon, in Jon’s case, it was Dany. Kraznys fell into Dany’s trap, failed in controlling Drogon and Dany unleashed her anger on Astapor. 

In s07e06, we also have this:

Another dragon in chains! I’m starting to think now that this ridiculous scene had a symbolic purpose. The only one who could actually bind a dragon to his will is the Night King. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? After all, Dany bound her dragons to herself with blood magic and the NK bound Viseryon to himself with his magic. Only Dany’s Ice counterpart to her Fire could do it. No one else.

Let’s have a look at another moment at the Dragonpit. This is what Jon told Cersei when he refused her conditions:

“I am true to my word, or I try to be. That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

And this was his speech when Tyrion told him he should have lied: “I’m not gonna swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed, but when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies, and lies won’t help us in this fight.”

What does that have to do with anything? will you ask in a Sansa fashion. Well, the interesting thing about Jon’s speech on promises and lies is the chain on the floor while he does it.

The chain looks like this after Jon kills the wight:

Then, just before he starts his speech about oaths, promises and lies, it looks like this:

The chain has been rearranged on the floor by the staff, as we can see that on the second picture it is further away from the wight’s remains than on the first picture. Also, its spiral shape looks better. It is supposed to mean something.

Jon steps inside the spiral shaped chain right before his speech about promises and lies. The photo below is taken after he’s finished though:

What does it mean then?

The first meaning I spoke about was the obvious one, Jon is still chained/tied to his mission, as the wight’s remains at the end of the chain show us. Which leads him to:

Fall into a trap he creates for himself. 

When he “bent the knee, but” on the boat, he lied to Daenerys, or, as Tyrion put it so well in s07e03 (when he convinces Dany to let Jon mine the dragonglass), he gave her “something by giving her nothing”. However, at the Dragonpit, Cersei puts him on the spot, and he has to cover up for his previous lie and assure Dany of his loyalty to her. By pledging himself and the North to her in front of everyone, he is swearing an oath he cannot back out of. Even less after talking about upholding oaths and words meaning nothing when false promises are made. Those very words chain him to his public pledge to Dany. That’s what the chains are showing us, Jon, in season 08, feels he has no choice but to be true to his word, it is a matter of honour. This, in turn, leads him to:

engage himself in a spiral of lies and events (spiral shape) he won’t be able to get out of (chains). The only thing that finally frees him of this spiralling is her death.

He thought he could bind her to his will, control her. Instead, he got himself in chains, like the shot below shows:

Jon is inside the spiral while Dany stands at the other end of the chain. Dany, like in the scene with Kraznys, is actually the master, the one in charge. Jon, through his decision to pledge himself to her, has made himself her prisoner. We can say that from the moment he stepped foot on Dragonstone until the moment he killed her, he never ceased being her prisoner. Sansa was right, by going to Dragonstone, Jon walked into a trap. Not only the one he created for himself at the Dragonpit, but also the one Tyrion had set up for him when he invited him to Dragonstone without mentioning he had to bend the knee. 

Anyway, he walked into a trap, then failed in controlling Dany’s inner dragon, and she unleashed her anger on King’s Landing. Just like in the scene with Kraznys really.  It’s worth pointing that Dany is standing in KL (a city she will destroy) when she repeats the same words she told Kraznys in Astapor (a city she destroyed). She freed the people of Astapor, and later on, she “freed” the people of KL (albeit in a tiny bit extreme way). It looks like a kind of echo to me.

For those who would like to say that Jon becomes the dragon in chains, I will say no no no. Jon’s personality has nothing to do with Targaryen mentality, he is a Stark through and through!

Well… except maybe for… falling for his sister? Alright, alright, maybe he is the chained dragon here, but just a little bit, okay? Let’s say he is a winged wolf in chains, yes?

Seriously though, I wonder if, by showing us the two scenes displaying chains in season 07, they weren’t trying to draw a parallel between Viseryon the dragon being bound to the Night King’s will (Ice), and Jon the dragon being bound to Dany’s will (Fire). Without Viseryon nor Jon having a real choice in it either. 

One other thing that I feel foreshadows Jon’s fate in season 08. Before the Dragonpit meeting, Tyrion says: “but in the beginning, when it was home to Balerion the Dread, it must have been the most dangerous place in the world”. Jon in season 08, acts as Dany’s illusory dragonpit/chains, he prevents her from doing damage as best as he can. But she sees him as a threat and he is afraid of her which is understandable, as being too close to a locked and/or chained dragon is still a dangerous position to be in:

It’s interesting to see that the Dragonpit, which is the place where Jon sealed his fate, is a ruin. Jon, who is Dany’s last metaphorical Dragonpit, ends up broken. A dangerous position to be in indeed. 

Am I going too far here?

To conclude this thing, I’d like to mention another scene in that same episode that foreshadows as well Jon’s fate as a prisoner of Dany’s. It is the one with Theon. 

Theon mentions his time as a prisoner of Ramsay’s and how Yara, his sister, was the only one to try and save him. In season 08, Sansa is the only one who tries, in a desperate move, to save Jon, by telling Tyrion his secret. Most importantly, she goes to KL with an army to try and free him at the very end, while he is still a prisoner (but of Grey Worm’s now. Geeez, poor Jon…). The parallel can even go on, as Yara failed in freeing Theon and bringing him back home, and Sansa, although she manages to free Jon, fails in bringing him back home too. Jon is a broken man, Theon was a broken man. In season 08, Theon chooses love for the Starks and Sansa over duty to Yara, his Queen. Jon at the end chooses love for Sansa over duty to Daenerys, his Queen. 

Anyway, those were my latest messy ramblings and that’s all for now.

Thanks for reading!

[roger-that-cap]

tolerate it

part 2/2 of cardigan!

so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.

warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha

word count: 4.5k!

would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).

You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 

“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don’t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”

“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”

You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.

“There was nothing different.”

You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”

She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”

But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.

Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.

Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”

“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”

“I know I did.”

“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”

She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”

“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”

“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.

And it destroyed you.

“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.

“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”

She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.

You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.

“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”

“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”

“I don’t love her-”

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”

“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”

“No, you’re-”

The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”

“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”

“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”

There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”

“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”

“You’d have to trust me.”

“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.

“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”

“I haven’t spoken to them much.”

“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.

She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”

Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”

That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”

You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.

“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 

How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?

But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?

Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.

“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”

A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”

“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”

You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”

Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 

As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.

Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.

“Wish you all the best, Nat.”

She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.

§§

You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.

You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.

There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.

At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.

You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 

And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 

§§§

Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.

Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.

You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 

“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”

She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 

“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.

“Wait,” she called out.

You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”

There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 

You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”

“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.

“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.

“I need to apologize for what happened.”

You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 

You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”

“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”

There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”

You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”

She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.

She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.

“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.

§§§

The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 

You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.

You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.

But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 

You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.

Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.

You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.

You both kept walking.

*****

ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal

so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-

@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui

[emilia3546]

The Rest of Our Lives - Nessian

Happy #nessianmonth guys! Thanks @illyrianet for organising!

Here we go with the first one: nessian’s mating ceremony, finally filling the gap that Sarah left us with at the end of ACOSF. 

*****

The temple was absolutely beautiful, Rhys really had come through on this one, this was sure to be the most extravagant party Nesta had ever been to, and that was saying something. She glanced around, checking that everything was ready, nothing could go wrong, everything was perfect, all she needed now was to calm her nerves and get on with it.

"Nesta?" Nesta whirled at the sound of Feyre's voice behind her, "Do you want a hand getting dressed?" Right, because she was supposed to already be dressed, had told Emerie that she was, even while she'd just been staring at the dress, nerves racing through her. She nodded,

"Thank you,"

"Come on," Feyre squeezed her hand gently, "Let the guys finish off here, everything's perfect, okay?"

"Okay," Nesta squeezed her eyes shut when Feyre winnowed them back to the River House, to the room she'd slept in last night, "I don't get the tradition of not being allowed to see him before the ceremony," she muttered,

"Honestly, me neither, but we don't want one of you to chicken out and you guys to end up mating beforehand, then to go to the ceremony with you both riled up with a new mating bond," Feyre chuckled, "Rhys was bad enough, but I dread to think what you two will be like,"

"Oh hush," Nesta muttered, "We're not that violent,"

"Not usually, but you never know," Feyre teased, "Dress, c'mon," Nesta nodded, turning her gaze back to the dress waiting for her, she gingerly took it from its stand, stepping behind the curtain to slip it on, but stepped back out to let Feyre help her with the clasps and ties at the back. She almost didn't want to look at the mirror, if she did, her nerves would catch up to her again, but Feyre offered a little encouraging smile,

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Nesta laughed, "I don't even know why,"

"You look stunning," Feyre breathed, "And that feeling's normal, I think," her sister was right, no matter what anyone could say, Nesta was beautiful, with the fitted bodice rising just above her breasts, cinched in the back to accentuate her figure, whorls of silver thread forming Illyrian runes across the bodice. Runes for luck, prosperity, love, Cassian might not be much of an artist, but she knew full well that he'd helped Feyre designing the dress, especially with the occasional rune for witchcraft, or more violent things having slipped past her sister's notice,

"You can't read Illyrian, can you?"

"No, Rhys has tried to teach me, but his particular style of teaching doesn't work so well with the runes, I know some, but not many, did I get one wrong?"

"No," Nesta laughed, "I'd just be surprised that you'd let Cass call me a witch on my wedding dress," Feyre flushed bright red,

"He what?"

"This one, it means witch,"

"It does not, he said that it meant loyalty," Nesta stifled another laugh,

"He lied, aww you believed him, he definitely lied to you about a few of these runes then, you should know better than to take his word at face value,"

"I did check with Azriel,"

"Oh he was probably in on it, knowing them, the idiots," she chuckled again, spinning around in front of the mirror, "I love it, and I would never have suggested he help if I didn't want something a bit less formal, it's not like anyone will be able to read the runes, it's just for us,"

"Right, sit," Nesta just about managed to lift the skirts of her gown before Feyre tugged her across to the chair waiting for her, mountains of cosmetics beside it, "I asked Elain what she thought would work, then Mor, and they're both wrong,"

"Is that so?"

"Mhhm," Feyre was hardly listening as she dusted something along Nesta's cheekbones, the tang of magic filling the air, "I'm just setting it in place, not even Cass can fuck this up later," Nesta snorted at that, but Feyre held her head still, "Stop it, you're going to make me mess up," she hissed just as the door opened,

"You told me you were already dressed!"

"I lied,"

"Shush, I can't do this if you keep moving," Nesta did fall silent, but held Emerie's disapproving gaze while Feyre finished, twisting her hair up onto her head in a knot of intricate braids, setting gemstones through it, Nesta had no words when Feyre span the chair around for Nesta to see her handiwork, those jewels caught the light, making her hair shine and glimmer as she moved. She almost couldn't believe the person who was staring back at her, she'd changed so much over the last year, the person staring back at her was beautiful, confident, tears formed in her eyes, "Nesta,"

"I'm okay, I just, it feels like some stupid dream and I'll wake up any minute back in that apartment," Feyre threw an arm around her shoulders,

"It's real, I promise it's real, enjoy it, Nesta, you've earned it," she glanced back at the female in the mirror, the way her eyes sparkled with life, her cheeks glowing with health, especially with the rouge that Feyre had dusted onto them. Feyre had painted her lips red, an almost sinful color, and she blushed at the thought of exactly what Cassian would be thinking when he saw her,

"There we go," Emerie laughed, "Dirty mind, she's fine,"

"Oh shush," Nesta laughed, but didn't deny it, "You're just as bad as I am,"

"While that may be true, I'm not the one about to get married." Married. She was about to get married, shit. She didn't know what she was doing. What if she tripped? What if she forgot her vows? What if she panicked and froze up? What if she embarrassed herself, embarrassed Cassian? "Deep breath," this time it was Emerie, "Still your mind," she did, closing her eyes, deep breath, deep breath, she was the rock against which the surf crashes, she was a Valkyrie, and she could not be broken, not by the Blood Rite, not by marriage. "Drink this," Emerie handed her a foul-smelling tonic of some sort,

"What is it?"

"Just an anti-sickness tonic, for your nerves, but you'll fine once you get there," Nesta wasn't so sure of that and downed it in one, the effect almost instant,

"Are you drugging her, Em?" Nesta almost spat it out at the sound of another voice, "Everything's ready, you look beautiful, Nesta," Azriel smiled as he spoke, "Cass won't know what's hit him,"

"Thank you," Nesta ran through the ceremony again in her mind, automatically finding everything that could go wrong, "Em, I'm gonna fuck up,"

"No you're not,"

"Easy for you to say, you've never done this,"

"I have," Feyre said, squeezing Nesta's shoulder, and Nesta almost winced at the memory that she hadn't bee there when Feyre and Rhys had had a proper ceremony, being too lost to her fears to care or even notice, "You'll be fine, Nesta," It's okay that you weren't there, you're her with us now, Nesta started at Feyre's voice in her mind, and she nodded, still not quite believing her, but if Feyre forgave her, she could start to forgive herself for everything she'd missed this last year. "Just ignore everyone, focus on Cass, okay?"

"Okay,"

"Step-by-step, walk up to him, let him say his vows, say your vows, exchange rings, food, kiss him, and walk back, you can do that,"

"Yeah, yeah I can do that, thank you, I'll be fine," she shot a grateful glance at Azriel as he offered her an arm, but she still squeezed her eyes shut when he winnowed them back to the temple, just outside the door,

"Ready?" Nesta took in one last breath and squeezed Azriel's arm,

"Yeah, and thank you,"

"For what?"

"This. Walking me down the aisle," she refused to allow herself to tear up at the thought that her father should be the one doing that,

"I'm honestly honored that you asked me,"

"There would be no-one else I would want to," she mumbled,

"Oh, so I'm the last resort, I see," Nesta chuckled when he finally stepped forwards, and was still laughing when they crossed into the temple. Everyone was there, everyone was watching her, but she remembered Feyre's words, gripping Azriel's arm tighter as she lifted her gaze to the end of the aisle, to Cassian. The moment she locked eyes with him, Nesta forgot to be scared, forgot that she was nervous, excitement taking over, and she lessened the vice-like grip on Azriel's arm, earning a soft chuckle. Each step took her closer to that dais, to Cassian. Each step took her closer to the first day of the rest of her life. Each step brought her closer to finally stepping out of the shadow of the war. Each step brought her closer to her mate.

At the top of the dais Azriel released her arm, and Nesta almost swayed on her feet, a sort of dizzy feeling washing over her at the prospect of saying the proper words, words that she had been waiting for longer than she'd care to admit to say. She clasped Cassian's hands in her own, holding on tight, reassuring herself that this was all real, that he was real. She hardly noticed the movement beside her until Rhys spoke,

"Nesta, do you come to this place of your own free will, with love in your heart to wed this male?"

"Yes," she breathed, "I do," she was still staring at Cassian and hardly registered the same question being asked of him, until he gently squeezed her fingers and started to speak,

"I, Cassian, swear to love, to cherish, and to protect you, when you actually need it," he added with a smirk, and Nesta had to hold back a fit of giggles, "I swear to love you through the best and worst the world can throw at us." With the official words said, he continued to add his own, "I never knew what was coming that day I first met you, Nes, when we arrived to ask for help, and I didn't find just a human woman, but an Illyrian without her wings, honestly I think I started falling right then, and kept falling with everything since. It didn't take long for me to figure out what you were to me, but long before that, I'd already decided that I wanted you, just you, mate or not, and I cannot thank the Cauldron enough that it saw fit to bless us with that bond." Nesta blinked tears out of her eyes, losing track of the murmurs around them, "You, Nesta, are everything I could have possibly dreamed of, and more besides, your courage, your strength, I don't know what I would have done without you at this point, I knew full well that I loved you when you refused to back down, when you made sure to protect your family from anything you thought was a threat, even me," Nesta let out a little chuckle at that,

"You didn't exactly correct me," she laughed,

"I'm not finished, Nes, it's your turn in a minute," she snorted, but allowed him to finish, "I have loved you through everything, but I never once believed that you could return that love and I promise, Nesta, that I will continue to love you until my last breath and beyond." Nesta couldn't stop the tears now flooding down her face, and thanked the Mother for Feyre's shield to protect her make-up from ruination. When he finished, she took a few breaths before beginning her own vows,

"I, Nesta Archeron, swear to love, to cherish, and protect you, because gods know you do need it." Nesta grinned at the mutterings among the few Illyrians chosen to represent their people at her changed vows, never 'obey', not for them, never for them, protect, yes, but never obey. "I swear to love you though the best and worst the world can throw at us." She grinned again when Cassian laughed, "I knew I loved you when I feared I might lose you, and I was so scared that you wouldn't want my love, that I didn't deserve yours, but thank the Cauldron that you reached me, I really don't know what I would have done this past year without you, and I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. I promise to love you until my last breath and beyond, until this world is nothing but a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, until whatever end, I will love you."

Nesta's vision was still blurred as Emerie stepped to her side, handing her a ring, its partner in Cassian's hand as Azriel stepped back. She let her tears fall as Cassian slipped the ring onto her finger, a beautiful red stone capturing the light, surrounded by seven smaller silver ones, the reverse true of the one she placed on Cassian's finger.

"The red stone is hewn form my siphons," he murmured, "So that I'll always be by your side, I had them made specially," Nesta had no words as she held his gaze,

"Now, Lord and Lady Archeron, I declare you husband and wife now-" Nesta couldn't wait any longer, surging towards Cassian and showing him how she felt in the only way she really knew how. Rhys sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Do that, I guess,"

"Sorry, Rhys," Cassian chuckled when he stepped back, keeping a hold of Nesta's right hand as they both turned to face Rhys, taking the twin biscuits offered by Feyre and Elain. Nesta had insisted on the biscuits, just for the look on Cassian's face when he realized what she'd made,

"Witch," he muttered,

"Brute," she responded, breaking off a bit of the biscuit to feed him, hoping desperately that it tasted alright, but relaxed when he fed her piece of the other one, it was okay, nothing like Elain's cooking, but it was hers, she'd made it, for him. Cassian held her gaze as Rhys cleared his throat, the black ribbon in his hands the final piece they needed, the last thing before they could be declared officially mated.

Nesta wasn't sure that her heart was beating as he tied it around their joined hands, grinning, even when he met Nesta's eyes. Her brother, that was what he was, even more now, and she smiled at him as Cassian swept her into his arms to carry her back down the aisle,

"I can walk," she laughed,

"I know, I want to carry you," he laughed,

"Oh really, husband,"

"Yes, wife, I wouldn't want you trip, it's bad luck you know," Nesta laughed again as Cassian stepped outside, the first day of the rest of their lives, that's exactly what this was, and she wasn't scared anymore.

[saphirered]

Hai I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do more verin x reader, like how would he react after finding out about essek, and he searched for him then he met the m9 and reader ?

Hope this turned out the way you wanted it! 😘

After the disappearance of his brother, Verin could simply not let it go. The Shadowhand disappeared from Exandria’s surface overnight without a word of warning. No traces left. No signs of a struggle that may indicate his enemies having gotten to him. Why would Essek leave everything behind willingly? Everything he gave his life for in service of the Bright Queen and the Kryn Dynasty? There had been suspicions about a traitor amidst the Bright Queen’s court but Verin simply refused to believe that to be Essek. His brother would never… Would he?

Verin, much like his brother is resourceful and shares a similar determination to reach a goal by any means necessary. That goal right now; finding Essek. Verin’s unsure what he will do once he finds his brother. There’s so many questions… But what if the rumours are true? No. He can’t think like that just yet. He will not tarnish that reputation through speculations. He needs answers first. He needs to find Essek.

Months of searching, following whatever traces he could find. Verin had to look to the past any ties before Essek’s disappearance. That lead to a group of strangers. A colourful bunch of chaotic individuals seemingly defying all odds when faced with them. Verin may not be able to track Essek but he could try and find these people… The Mighty Nein.

————

Heavy bag over one shoulder dressed in fine clothes you stroll through low-lit halls flanked by two guards. Radiating a sense of authority and sternness you stop in front the metal bars, on the other side a redhead leaning back against the wall looking up at you innocently without a single worry.

“Master Widogast, I’ve been told you’re here on suspicions of corrupting the minds of your students. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You address your friend. This never ends. Caleb gets himself arrested because someone finds out what he’s allegedly been teaching at the Academy. He’s dragged off to a holding cell and your disturbed amidst your work day to get him out again. This time you’ve made him wait though. You had an important meeting you couldn’t get out.

“It’s all just a mistake. You’ll find my students can vouch for me and prove this misunderstanding to be nothing more than part of the curriculum of theoretical transmutation.” You dig through your bag, take out a scroll and hand it to one of the guards. The guards reads it over awaiting your command.

“Well, hurry up! Release this man before I have you written up for unlawfully keeping one of the Soltryce Academy’s most beloved teachers.” The guard quickly jumbles with the keys and the barred door is unlocked. Caleb gets up and you step aside to allow him to exit. The guards wait, not entirely sure what to do next. What did you expect of newbies…

“Are you really going to stand around loitering? Back to work.” The guards scurry off and you and Caleb walk next to each other exiting the building and into the streets. Once you’re both in the clear you drop your more rigid behaviour and punch the wizard in the shoulder.

“What was that for?” He exclaims rubbing his arm. That’s gonna bruise.

“The only reason I took this job is to get you and the others out of trouble when you inevitably got yourself in a mess again but between Beau’s bar fights and your borderline treason, I swear you’ll be the ones that will lose me my job.” You’re only half serious. You can’t count the times you’ve had to bail the Nein out for their antics and have definitely been abusing your newfound power to do so. The king might be an asshole but at least the pay is good and the benefits better.

Reaching your destination, wizard at your side discussing who might have spilled the beans on Caleb’s rather liberal teachings you open the low fence to the garden. In the garden you’re met with the familiar disguise of your friend Essek, sunhat to guard him from the harsh sunlight, gardening gloves on harvesting some vegetables. Upon seeing you he grabs the basket next to him and joins the two of you with a smile.

“While I’d hoped this wouldn’t become a habit, thank you, for getting Caleb out trouble, again. Your endless efforts are certainly appreciated. We are in your debt many times over.” The disguised drow sends the redhead a loving glance as he addresses you.

“And don’t you forget it. One day I might come and collect.” You grin at Essek with the pleasure of turning his own words against him. Of course you didn’t mean them. They’re your friends and you’ll never seriously ask for anything in return for anything they ask of you.

“Clever.” Essek speaks sarcastically smiling at your comment.

“But if you feel inclined to repay me for my hard work, you can make sure you’re both on time for dinner tonight. The gang’s getting back together and you’re expected.” Essek hands you the basket he’s carrying providing you with the resources of a home cooked meal for the gathering of the evening. It’s been a while since everyone’s been at the same place the same time.

“I’ll do what I can but I make no promises.”

“All, I can ask for.” You turn your attention to Caleb. “That reminds me.” A quick inconspicuous motion of your hands allows you to summon a small stack of papers. Another perk of your job; getting information the higher ups want to keep to themselves. Luckily a lot of them have assistants that are much easier to get that information from.

“Beau and you can get back to work. But not tonight! Tonight’s work free, for all of us.” Caleb quickly leafs through the ledgers you’ve handed him.

“You know, if you ever grow bored of the court life, you can always join me in teaching free thinking and magic at the Academy…” Caleb jokes as you pick up the basket ready to leave the wizards to the rest of their day.

“And who’s gone bail us both out then?” You laugh over your shoulder closing the fence behind you. Back to your home and prepare for the evening. You can’t help but feel like you’re being followed. You pay close attention to the shadows and for just a moment you’re sure you see something, or rather someone. Choosing not to pursue you continue on to your home. It’s not like your place of residence is a secret to anyone.

————

The house is noisy, happy chatting and laughter fills the dining room. How you’ve missed this. The table has been set, plates, cutlery and all, a multitude of decanters and bottles ready and filled, and plates and platers filled with food are added one by one. There’s something for everyone, everyone’s favourites.

“Yasha, can you take the cupcakes out of the oven for me?” You ask the barbarian wearing her floral embroidered apron stirring a pan on the stove as you plate the smoked pork. Yasha plates the baked goods by flavour and carries the tray to the dining room as you follow behind with your platter. Cheers erupt from the rest of the Nein as you and Yasha place the final dishes on the table. Everyone takes their seats and digs in pouring themselves drinks, taking whatever they desired, happily conversing about what everyone’s been up to in the past few months, talking about new plans for the future and the nostalgic adventures of the past together. You’ll have to get back to that some day. Maybe soon?

Despite the happiness of the whole event you still can’t get over this feeling you’re being watched. It’s not scrying, your home is protected from it and you feel safe to assume it’s not anyone from the Assembly or the king’s council. So who is it?

————

Verin watches the group as they enjoy their feast, his brother among them. He looks happy and content, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. Is this what he left Xhorhas for? He always wanted more, so how could Essek be content with a normal life? No matter the motives he’s loved, they’re his friends, something he never truly had before.

Then talks about the beacons came up. Mentions of the past missing ones and newfound ones. Aeor and its connection to Dunamis long before the Dynasty. The theoretics and potential of the beacons and the continued pursuit of studying them. Within the Dynasty this could be considered sacrilegious. And it made it look more and more Essek was guilt of the treason others suspected him of. His brother was a traitor and a disgrace in the eyes of the Dynasty and his family.

So why does Verin feel like none of that matters? He should be angry. He should dispose of his brother right here, right now in the name of the Bright Queen. But he can’t bring himself to it. His brother is happy, fought free from the expectations of others and the demanded unwavering loyalty to the Luxon and the Dynasty. Essek did exactly what he couldn’t.

————

You excuse yourself from the table making an excuse about checking on dessert and retreating to the kitchen alone. This feeling of being watched was getting on your nerves but tonight should be one without trouble and conflict. You’ll figure out if this watcher in the shadows poses a danger to you and your friends, if so you’ll dispose of them. If it can be postponed until tomorrow, then tomorrow you’ll deal with it but not tonight. Tonight is about peace, friends and family getting back together.

So when you reach the kitchen you open the window taking out the lattice work pies and cakes you’d made and left to rest and cool down before the Nein’s arrival. You get the batter you made and begin making some waffles. While you wait for them to be done you hum to yourself and sit in the open windowsill looking out over the city, inconspicuously looking around for your uninvited guest. The first batch is done and they haven’t showed up yet. Alright, you’ll make a second batch and some extra whipped cream while you’re at it.

Then you catch a glimpse of a shadow. You can’t make out all the details but the attire and a flash of pristine white hair leaves you to think it’s a drow. Thinking on your feet you cast hold person but the drow remains unaffected. Before you know it you’re pushed a few steps back into your kitchen. Supporting himself on the windowsill he holds a finely made blade to your throat. You lift your hands in surrender showing you have no ill intend…yet and are willing to talk and listen.

“My quarrel is not with you but one wrong move and I will not hesitate, mage.” The drow threatens you. You don’t doubt his words but this isn’t your first rodeo. If he tries anything he’s in for a fight. Getting a closer look you study the man’s features. There’s a sense of familiarity and you’re quick to conclude he must be related to Essek in some way. Broader build and longer hair but same features and eyes. He’s probably a fair bit taller too standing up straight instead of crouched in a windowsill.

“Perhaps not but it might be if you do not get out of my windowsill in the next few seconds.”

“Is that a threat?” He pushes the blade a little closer and you feel the cold steel against your skin, one move and it cuts.

“No. But take a look outside. You’ll see the torchlight of the guard patrol. Get inside.” A quick glance over his shoulder gives you the chance to take a step back from the drow and pick up your whipped cream and continue whisking before it loses its structure. He jumps inside and away from the window as you whisk completely indifferent to the fact a stranger just held a sword to your neck and entered your home even with your invitation.

“You must be Verin Thelyss.” You state putting the now finished whipped cream in the ice box. Verin stands there wary of you, expecting you to make a move and attack him at any second but you’re not and even from your demeanour he can gather you have no ill intent towards him. Not at all what he expected, but then again he didn’t expect to find his brother in the capital of the enemy nation of the Dynasty having dinner with a bunch of (previous) adventurers, some of which holding ranks within the Empire no less.

“You’re questioning my motives and calmness.” You lean against the counter crossing your arms. Verin lowers the blade but you’re unsure if it is because of defeat or he doesn’t see the purpose in holding you at sword point any longer.

“Why not just let me be caught by your guards? Why invite me inside your home?” Verin watches your every move, every twitch. You can see the same confusion and uncertainty and panic you’ve seen in Essek many times before so you offer a soft smile. Best you can do for him right now is stay calm, don’t make any uncertain moves and approach him with gentleness. You’re sure with how long you’ve been feeling like being watched today he’s been the one responsible and he’d have caught onto your conversations from the shadows.

“Call it a leap of faith. I trust Essek. He trusts you. You’ve done nothing to prove you have any ill will towards my friends so until you prove me otherwise you’ll be welcome.” You move slowly grabbing two knives. Putting one on the counter and sliding it over a little away from you until it touches one of the pie dishes.

“You’re good with a blade right? You can help me cut these pies and cakes and we can talk.” You gesture to the kitchen knife. Verin looks at you as if you’ve gone insane. Maybe you have but it’s more likely you’ve faced much worse than the likes of him. You move your own knife and he watches you as you begin dividing the cake in even slices.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.”

“Then why should I listen to you?”

“Because you’re still standing here in my kitchen.” You laugh plating the slices of cake on another silver platter neatly.

“Verin, if you came here to kill your brother you would have tried so this afternoon. That you haven’t only shows you’re not here for that. You have questions. You want answers. Now I’m not just going to let you walk into my dining room until I’m certain that the information you got and the questions I answer will not lead you to violence. So you help me get dessert ready. If you prove your intensions for your brother and my friends are honourable you can join us for dessert. If you prove a danger to them, I will allow you to leave this place tonight but should you ever return I will be the least of your worries.” Verin takes the knife and tests the grip as if it’s a dagger as he looks at the apple pie in front of him. He stabs the knife down carefully and cuts downward repeating evenly spaced out. You wait for him to talk not feeling like you should initiate conversation just yet.

“The one who stole the beacons and handed them over to the traitor mages of your Empire, it was my brother’s doing.” More of a statement than a question you nod. Diving straight into the deep end, aren’t we? No matter, better rip the bandage off quickly.

“It hit us hard as well. Though, I can’t say it was surprise.” You’re not sure how to place what you read from Verin. Pity? Disappointment? And a good bit of acceptance thrown in the mix.

There truly was a sense of acceptance because no matter how much he might want to deny it, just like you said, there had already been that underlying suspicion it was Essek given his aspirations. It’s one of those things that leaves you hoping something isn’t true and you wilfully suppress the possibility until there’s no other way around it and you’re faced with the truth. If what you said is true and what he gathers from your conversation with the Nein and you now, you found out in the moment. He’s only learning about this in the aftermath.

Essek lied to your faces, pretended to be your ally to cover for himself and yet you still found it within yourselves to forgive or at the very least accept everything he had done so maybe, just maybe he could try to do the same. Still he has many more questions but he’s unsure if you can answer all of them.

“I won’t ask you to forgive and I certainly won’t ask you to forget, but I will ask you to give your brother a chance. In his time with us he’s truly been trying to make up for his mistakes and repent for his sins and while they may not all be washed away in his lifetime, it’s a start. He’s just as much of a misguided tool, as most of us, promised an a glimpse of power by forces bigger than him and without a way out when he realised the gravity of his actions and the consequences.” You finish up the last pie and put the knife to the side. Verin hangs onto your every word.

“When we were about to walk into certain death gathering what we could, he told us that if something were to happen to him, we should come find you because despite everything, you were one of the only people he felt he could trust.”

“Then why didn’t he trust me with this? Why depart without a word?”

“Because burdening you with that information would put you in the same place he put himself in. He came here, to a place he knew you couldn’t follow. He left a place he would endanger everyone he cares about because he knows you, just like the rest of us would fight the entirety of the Dynasty just to keep him safe.” You’re right. Verin know you’re right because he would have stood with his brother in the end despite what crimes he had committed. Essek was not the master of this grand scheme but he played his part. He’d spend his life making up for it but at least he will work towards making this world a better place. Verin can only aspire to do that very thing; protect the people he cares about and make this world a better place.

“I still have many questions.” Verin breathes. It’s a lot to process and that’s okay. This is just the start but it is the most difficult part. You grab the plates and platters balancing them on your arms.

“Maybe you should ask him yourself. Why don’t you join us for dessert, Verin?” He doesn’t know how to respond. While you told him you’d let him join, he didn’t expect it to be now or with so little certainty on your end, but maybe you knew more than you let on. Without a verbal response Verin grabs the remaining dishes from the counter and waits for you to lead the way.

Entering the dining room Beau and Veth are in the middle of a drinking contest each with their own decanters of wine. Veth slams down the now empty decanter.

“Momma’s still got it children!” Veth exclaims cheering as Beau sits back disappointed, two more gulps and she’d have won. Yasha comes in telling her she’ll win next time. Fjord passes over a hand full of coins to Jester who calls him a loser poking his cheek giggling. Kingsley is on the verge of challenging Veth to a drinking contest of their own and Essek carefully manages to grab a bottle to refill his and Caleb’s glasses before this goes south. Caduceus is watching the chaos unfold deliberating wether or not he should get some hangover tea ready because they will need it if this keeps going.

When you enter, the cheers for dessert fall quiet quickly seeing the drow behind you carrying several pies. Essek freezes up and Caleb naturally takes a bit of a defensive position without breaking the dinner setting. Verin albeit awkwardly steps out next to you as you helping you put the plates on the table. With a wave of your hand you call over another chair to be put at the head of the table. You gesture for the man to sit and he does debating wether or not this was the right decision as all eyes fall on him. You take your own seat.

“Well, come on guys, dig in!” Not needing to be asked twice they do, some wary of Verin but you know they’ll ease up soon enough.

“So you’re Essek’s brother? He didn’t say you’re a hot boi too. Jeeze Essek, is everyone in your family pretty?” Jester asks stuffing her mouth with a piece of cake. Verin is taken aback by the blue tiefling’s comment and the identical faces he and Essek make are enough to send most of the table in a giggle fit. You cover your own response to this for your own sake.

“Eh-Thank you? I think? Though, if my company is undesired I can leave…” Verin suggests unsure how to further approach this doubting this is the right place for this.

“Nonsense. If our friend invited you to join, for whatever reason, you’re welcome.” Fjord assures. He knows you wouldn’t just allow this without a reason and just by the attitude of the guy, he gets a pretty good estimate there’s no malicious intent in Verin right now.

“Yeah and while you’re here you can tell us about all the embarrassing shit Essek did when he was a kid.” Beau punches Essek’s shoulder past Caleb who’s quick to get out of the monk’s way. Essek rubs the spot she hit teeth clenched but smiling nonetheless.

“So, Verin, what are your intentions here?” Caleb asks an open question hoping to get more insight in the drow’s motives. While he trusts your judgement one can never be too certain and he’d rather not be face to face with Essek’s brother on their way home should that scenario arise.

“I-“ Verin tries to find the words picking them carefully. “I thought I knew before but now I don’t know. I came to find my brother and I found him, among friends. I have many questions, some answered by your gracious friend but I think for now, I’d like to truly meet my brother’s friends because if this is the company he finds himself in, I can only ask to witness his happiness.”

It’s a strange feeling for Verin to come to that conclusion. When he left Xhorhas he considered he might be bringing back the corpse of his brother, by his hand or someone else’s depending on circumstances, or bring him back in chains for treason to be tried in front of the Bright Queen. What he didn’t expect is to be met by an alternative that would change his views on everything. He realises that with your stories and those of the Nein he was just as lost as all of you, but now he’s found a group of people that willingly accept whichever path he chooses for himself without expectations, rules or conditions.

Verin first hand gets to experience why Essek chose to leave everything behind and give it up for these people. They are his friends, his family and he’d never be alone again if they can help it. Perhaps Verin can experience that too one day. The Mighty Nein will make sure he does because as we know, once you get involved with them, your life changes forever.

[iliumheightnights]

Remembrance | Robb Stark x Male Reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Robb Stark x Male Reader

Summary: (M/N) finds Robb alive after thinking he was dead. 

A.K.A, an alternate universe where Robb survives the red wedding somehow.

…

“King Robb and Lady Catelyn are dead! Killed by the Frey’s at the twins!”

(M/N) stopped as he heard those words. Not just two days had passed since he had left his love to deal with Theon. He had been worried about leaving Robb, but the man assured him he would be okay. He should have trusted his instinct. Now Robb was dead and he wasn’t there to protect him...at the least to die with him.

When they arrived at Winterfell they found that the ironborn had all been killed or captured and the Boltons now held it as their keep. (M/N) couldn’t believe it, there was practically nothing left for the Starks. He knew that if he tried to retake Winterfell he and his forces would die. He ordered his forces to fall back and then disbanded the war party. “Return to your keeps, swear loyalty to the Boltons,when I find Bran,Rickon, Arya or Sansa...be prepared to retake Winterfell.”

…

It had been months since the events of the red wedding happened. (M/N) was haunted by the visions of Robb. He couldn’t remember if he told him that he loved him before he had left. That was the part that (M/N) worried about the most. He didn’t want the last thing he said to Robb to be awful or an argument.

It was a common occurrence for him to see Robb in his dreams whenever he went to sleep. Robb would be standing there like any other day and smile at him with that stupid grin. (M/N) would try to get to him but before he could reach him Robb would look like he had just been stabbed and would fall just out of (M/N)’s reach. And those were the good nights.

Sometimes when he would be travelling he would believe that he had seen his lover standing in the treeline, or sometimes he would think he was among the crowd of people. It was never true. He couldn’t seem to get it through his head that Robb was gone, the king of the north was dead. He thought about what Robb would say if he could see him now. He’d laugh at him for being so weak, for not being able to move on. 

No. Robb wouldn’t think that at all. Robb would apologize for worrying him, apologize for leaving so soon. He would tell him how much he loved him and how they’d meet again. (M/N) knew that's what Robb would really say. He saw how broken his love was after his father was killed in kings landing, he’d never judge (M/N) for grieving.

Sometimes (M/N) hated the fact that he was alive. Why was he still breathing when Robb and most of the Starks were dead or missing? Missing. He had to find the Stark kids, that’s the least he could do for Robb, Ned and Catelyn. So that became his next mission, he knew that Sansa was being held by the lannisters. Bran had been at Winterfell with Rickon if anything Osha and Hodor would protect them both. Arya was what concerned (M/N), the lannisters said they had her...but he knew they were lying. Arya couldn’t be captured by anyone.

So that’s what (M/N) had been doing now. Searching for the lost Stark Girl. He had looked everywhere, From king's landing to even casterly rock. Everywhere he looked he didn’t find her. His search finally brought him to one place he was hoping to avoid. The Twins. Of course, he couldn’t just go around asking for a missing Stark. They’d have his head before he even thought of escape. His best chance of finding out if she was here would be to sneak into the dungeons.

Sneaking into the dungeons was no easy feat, for some people. For (M/N) all he had to do was kill a guard and take their uniform. Maybe it wouldn’t work for say the Lannisters, but for the Frey’s they were too stuck up to truly notice that he didn’t belong. He approached the dungeon and spoke to the guard. “You lucky Bastard. Lord Frey says you get to go have fun with the others, I get stuck guarding the pigs tonight.” The guard laughed and handed him the keys before he started walking away. “Sucks for you! Imma go find a nice woman to bed.” (M/N) rolled his eyes and waited for the guard’s footsteps to quiet. Once the coast was clear, he turned and entered the dungeon.

The cells were mostly empty, probably because Walder Frey liked to execute his prisoners rather than waste food on them. The few cages that did have prisoners looked like they had been there for a while, but no sign of Arya so far. Then (M/N) caught his breath as he took in the sight of someone he didn’t think he’d see ever again. “No...it can’t be. Robb?” He stepped closer to the cell and the man inside looked up. The man’s eyes widened and quickly stood up rushing to him. “(M/N)! By the gods what are you doing here?” (M/N) felt Robb’s hands grab his own on the bars. He actually felt him. He was real, he was alive. He looked exactly like he had, but with more messy hair and beard. “How are you...nevermind. Let’s get you out of here.” (M/N) quickly unlocked the cell and was engulfed in a hug by Robb. “Oh gods...It’s so good to see you. I thought I’d never see you again.” (M/N) hugged him back but quickly let go. “I thought the same, we’ll talk later but now we have to go. Here.” He handed Robb a cloak from the wall. Must have been left by another guard. The man quickly put it on. “So what’s the plan?” Robb asked. “You follow my lead.” He gripped Robb’s shoulder and began walking out of the keep. (M/N) quickly checked the hallway and was glad to see it still empty. “We’ll go through the secret entrance. That’s how I got in here.” Getting out of the Twins was surprisingly just as easy as getting in. They never expected someone to come and steal the king in the north.

(M/N) and Robb made it back to where (M/N) had left his horse. “Okay you’re up first, we need to go.” (M/N) quickly undressed from the Frey uniform and got back into his regular outfit. He grinned as he caught Robb watching him. He helped Robb onto the horse and followed soon after. “Okay let’s get out of here before they realize you’re missing.” (M/N) wrapped his arms around Robb’s body and grabbed the reins. The two booked it as far from the Twins and the Freys as they could.

As they rode it seemed to be too quiet. “What happened to you? I thought you were dead?” Robb stiffed a bit. “I thought I was. I had been shot multiple times and stabbed, but somehow...not enough to kill me. Walder Frey wanted to use me as a hostage in case the North retaliated...but I can see that isn’t going to happen anytime soon.” (M/N) let out a huffed, forced laugh. “North’s in a large civil war right now. No one’s saving anyone anytime soon dear...I heard they sewed Grey wind’s head onto your body. I’m guessing it was some other poor sap?” Robb nodded. It got quiet again. “I’m sorry about your mom Robb. She was a strong woman and I’m sure she’s watching over you with your father right now.” Robb didn’t say anything but leaned back into (M/N). They were quiet the rest of the ride.

They rode on for another day and only stopped to rest when they were sure they were far enough not to be followed. They arrived at an old hut, it seemed to be worn down by the weather. “Here, this looks abandoned. We can rest in here for the night.” (M/N) jumped off the horse and helped Robb down. “I’m fine, I’m fine. You don’t need to coddle me.” (M/N) tied up the horse. “Oh I think I do. I thought you were dead for months. I don’t want you out of my sight again.”

The inside of the hut was at least still stable. The roof didn’t look like it was about to collapse so that was the most important thing. (M/N) started a small fire in the fireplace and pulled out his pack. He took out a knife and threw it towards Robb. “Here. Get yourself cleaned up. Looking more like a wildling now.” Robb laughed and took the knife. “You wish.” Robb was going to start but stopped as he had an idea. “Why don’t you help me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at his love.

(M/N) sighed but grabbed the knife and began shaving him. He kept his hands steady as he worked his magic. “I’ve missed this...well not shaving you but just getting to feel you. I never thought I’d get to do this again. Glad I was wrong.” Robb smiled and rubbed (M/N)’s arm. “I’m glad you were wrong too.” (M//N) finished shaving Robb and cut his hair down back to the length it was at before the red wedding. The two looked into each other's eyes and leaned in. (M/N) felt Robb’s lips on his and pressed deeper. It had been so long and he almost forgot what his love felt like. 

The two broke apart and cuddled together in front of the fireplace. “So what happens now? I can unite the houses and rally them against the Boltons and Freys.” Robb said but (M/N) only shook his head. “I can’t see that going well. The red wedding killed many of your loyal men and the survivors won’t easily come back just yet. Perhaps you and I should figure out how to save Sansa or to find Arya or Bran and Rickon.” Robb frowned. “We’ll find them, I want them to be safe. Protected. But I also want my family home back. Those Boltons-” (M/N) interrupted him. “Will pay for what they’ve done. But there’s nothing we can do right now. For now just try and relax and we’ll come up with a plan tomorrow. For now…” He let his fingers move across Robb’s chest. 

“Let’s make up for lost time.”

[tuanhood]

alpha

pairing: frat!im jaebeom x reader 

genre: lil bit of everything. lil smut, lil angst, maybe lots of fluff, established relationship

warnings: language, cringey frat stuff, public(??) fingering

word count: 4,200+

summary: your boyfriend’s frat doesn’t allow dating outside of greek life. hence the reason you two have had to sneak around for ten months... and hence the reason you’ve somehow found yourself stuck and hiding in a closet. 

a/n: wow long time no see! sorry for the delay, I’m really busy/stressing about dissertation stuff lately so updates and writings aren’t going to be frequent. but I really wanted to write this for ya’ll real quick to have SOMETHING, but yeah it’s not edited and NOT very good bc of the quickness. But I hope ya’ll will forgive me :) 

lambda | delta | gamma | kappa | theta | sigma

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When you woke up this morning, you really didn’t think you would end up in a closet at the Alpha Sigma Phi house.

The space is cramped, dark and a little smelly. Judging by the odor, you guessed that this was the closet that the boys in the house used to throw garbage in whenever they had to “clean” the house. Maybe this situation would have been a little bit better if you had been pushed into the closet that’s on the second floor – that way there would be less garbage and less boy smell. But who were you kidding? There would be a boy smell regardless.

In theory though you really shouldn’t be stuck in a closet at a frat house thinking about which closet you’d rather be in. What had your life become lately?

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” You heard Jaebeom utter through the door. It instinctively made you roll your eyes. The tone of his voice was so nonchalant, as if you weren’t stuck in a small space. But of course, he was on the other side of the door in fresh air, with as much space to roam around as he pleased – he didn’t understand “just a little bit longer” was triggering.

As much as you lo- liked Jaebeom… you weren’t sure if you would be able to hide in small spaces for the entirety of your relationship.

Babe it’s not for our entire relationship… Just until we graduate.

When he had first said that you didn’t really think about the bigger picture. All you had thought about was how happy he made you and how much you loved being with him. And that was the most important thing to you. But lately the sneaking around and the hiding had been a little too much for you – you weren’t sure if you could keep it up for another year… It had already been 10 months and you were at your wits end. Every time you wanted to sit down to have the conversation with Jaebeom – the one where you tell him it’s either the end of hiding or the end of your relationship – he’d give you those eyes, that smile and it would be completely wiped from your thoughts.

Damn Im Jaebeom. You think you fucking love him.

“Jae…” you grumbled, hitting your head against the door a bit. It had already been what… a half hour?

You heard him shush you and another voice emerged from the other side of the door. “Hey man, any particular reason you’ve been standing here?” Jaebeom’s nervous laughter is a giveaway, you just hope that Yugyeom doesn’t pick up on it. “No reason… just… like the space over here… It’s good party watching space.”

There’s silence and you pressed your ear up to the door further, hoping to hear something. You jumped back when you heard your boyfriend’s panicked voice, “what are you doing?”

Yugyeom snorted, “Dude chill… I’m just getting more cups from the closet.”

“Uh… Let me! I’ll get them!”

“What?”

“Yeah no worries dude, I didn’t really do anything to help prep for the party so I might as well get some fucking cups from the closet,” Jaebeom chuckled, his voice shifting to a more normal tone, “to be honest I didn’t really even know this was happening tonight… otherwise…” He drifted off, mumbling the last part to himself. You know he’s referencing the fact that the two of you thought the house would be empty – many of the guys typically going out to a local bar on Thursdays, but to your surprise as you crossed the main foyer in the house, the front door opened with most of the guys in the frat piling through. That led to your push into the closet.

“Yeah well… Red Room was closed because apparently they have a rat problem. I feel like that’s a bunch of bullshit. I mean we go there every week… we would have noticed if there was a rat problem.”

“Maybe they were just good at hiding it.”

There’s a lull in silence and Yugyeom clicked his tongue, as if he thinking deeply about something, “but I guess you wouldn’t know… You really don’t go out with us on Thursdays anymore…” As much as you liked the guys in Jaebeom’s frat – from stories you’d heard through your boyfriend of course – it seemed like they were often pretty slow when it came to certain things. If Yugyeom was starting to get skeptical and began piecing things together then surely the rest of the guys would too.

“Let me get you guys those cups.”

Taking a small step back, you turn to the shelf on your right, finding the red cups almost immediately through the dimmed closet. As the door cracks open slightly, your boyfriend’s long arm appears in the small space, gesturing around – clearly looking for the cups.

“Dude what are you doing?” Yugyeom asked.

“I know where the cups are so why should I go in all the way and get claustrophobic?” You have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing at Jaebeom’s fake explanation.

Yes, because why would anyone ever want to be stuck inside of a closet? Rolling your eyes – happy he can’t see – you thrust the cups forward into his wandering hand. You swear you hear him grunt at your force.

The cups and his hand disappeared along with the small sliver of light that comes from the door being open. “Well… here you go… the cups you wanted.” There’s another pause and you wished you could see what was going on – to know if Yugyeom was buying how uncharacteristically strange Jaebeom was being or if he was still suspicious.

“You should leave your creepy party watching spot and actually join the fun, ya know? Some of the girls from Theta are going to be by soon and I know Amanda’s been asking a lot about you lately.”

Yugyeom’s mention of another girl makes your skin crawl and you’re almost ready to pounce out of the closet and call it a day, but instead you clenched your fists and waited to hear your boyfriend’s response.

“Nah man… I’m good.”

“Come on… how long has it been since you last had any action? I’m pretty sure Amanda would be down to hook up tonight.” Instinctively you felt your hand go to the doorknob, gripping it tightly.

To your dismay Jaebeom says nothing in response and your mind starts running wild thinking about possible nonverbal responses he could have communicated to Yugyeom – perhaps one of them being “yeah I’ll totally bang Amanda tonight.”

And you know what… maybe he should. Maybe it’d be better for him to be with someone he can actually walk around campus with. To be with someone he could actually introduce to his friends. You weren’t any of those things.

The circumstances of your relationship with Jaebeom had been complicated from the beginning. The two of you had met in a random general ed class you were both forced to take for a stupid credit. Never in your life did you think you were going to meet your next boyfriend in “Comparative Post-Communist Politics.” The two of you had the lowest scores in the class and found yourselves bonding over your almost failing midterm grades, but luckily the two of you had passed the course. Thank god for the grading curve.

It had started just that simply – two people who were “class friends.” Nothing more, nothing less. You’d sit next to each other every lecture and laugh over how dumb you both were, but never made efforts to hang out after class or even study together in preparation for exams. It wasn’t until the final day of class that Jaebeom had asked you to get drinks. His request shocked you as you had figured that just like most “class friends” you two would part ways and never see each other again except for the occasional pass by on campus where each of you would squint and wonder how do I know that person? Were they in that one class I took that one time?

You were perhaps even more shocked when you agreed to go.

From then on, the two of you talked about things besides class and got to know each other on a more personal level. You had already known some very basic things about him – such as his affiliation with the Greek system – but soon enough Jaebeom was pouring his heart out to you, and you to him. Both of you admitted that you had never felt this comfortable with someone before.

It was probably you fifth- or sixth-time getting drinks at a secluded place downtown when Jaebeom revealed to you how much he liked you. You felt your heart leap out of your chest and just as you were about to reveal your own confession, he hit you with a “but…”

“but… I can’t technically date you. My frat’s chapter is really strict about dating outside of Greek life. When I was a pledge, they told me that they’ve kicked guys out for going out with girls who aren’t affiliated.”

In any other situation you would have gotten up and said “no thank you” to whoever the guy was, not wanting to waste your time on anything or anyone who prioritized some stupid brotherhood over their feelings for you. But this was Jaebeom… The Jaebeom that you had grown close to over such a short period of time and had told you how much Alpha Sigma Phi meant to him. He had grown up an only child and spent much of his younger years feeling lonely, which was what made him want to rush the frat. He wanted the close experience and to have strong loyalty and ties with the other members – just like with real brothers.

“We can make it work. I really like you too Jaebeom… I’m willing to try this and figure something out…”

At the time… you weren’t sure what “figure something out” really meant – especially since you weren’t supposed to be seen together by literally anyone. Most people on campus knew someone who knew someone that was in Alpha Sig and if anyone saw the two of you together, you’d risk it getting back to the guys at the house. Which was why for 10 months the two of you had been dating in secret – him coming over to yours almost every night and you sneaking over to the house every Thursday when the guys were usually gone until the early hours.

You felt like you were fighting back tears at the thought of Jaebeom with someone else, but maybe it was what was right. You deserved to not be a secret forever – you were in a closet for godssake – and Jaebeom deserved to be with the perfect sorority girl that he could take wherever he wanted without the risk of getting kicked out of his second home. Tightly shutting your eyes, you attempted to stop yourself from crying, but somehow it makes it worse with the first drop rolling down your cheek slowly.

“Baby? Are you crying?”

It’s then that you realized the door had been cracked open once again, Jaebeom looking behind him before slipping in with you, shutting the door tightly. It occurred to you how pathetic you must look, crying in a dim, cramped closet at a frat house.

Quickly, you tried to wipe the tears of your cheek and hiccupped slightly, “N-no I’m not crying. It’s just my allergies with all the dust in here.”

“You don’t have allergies…” He positioned himself closer to you, bringing his own hand up to your face to rest it on your cheek, feeling the wet trails your tears had left behind, “what’s wrong?” Biting your lip, you don’t say anything in the hopes that he’ll drop the subject. Jaebeom knows you well enough to know when you want to move on and not address a topic, but this time he can’t find it in himself to just let it go.

“Y/N tell me.”

The way his thumb continued to gently caress your cheek back in forth, makes you want to close your eyes and pretend you’re anywhere else besides here in this closet having this conversation. You’d rather be with your boyfriend in a place far away from here where you don’t have to hide and you don’t have to worry about perceptions.

“I was just thinking about what Yugyeom said about the girl from Theta.”

“Baby… I would never go behind your back and do something with her-”

You sighed deeply and felt your stomach drop as you kept wedging your way further and further into the conversation you had once been wanting to have. Not seeing his sparkling eyes and that look in bright light made the words somewhat easier to get out. “I know you would never do that… I just think sometimes maybe it’s best if you had someone you could actually be seen with.”

Jaebeom doesn’t say anything, because it’s at that moment he feels his own stomach churn and feel sick. Making out your saddened face in the dark closet and listening to your words he realizes what he’s done. The way you had said “if you had someone you could actually be seen with” as if there was something wrong with you. As if you were less then. He wanted to kick himself for making you feel like that when it was in fact his fault and his own issues that stopped the two of you from being together publicly. Was brotherhood really so important to him when he was at risk of losing the person he loves?

Loves.

Reality hit him again.

“No,” Jaebeom finally said shaking his head, “I don’t want anyone else. I only want you and I’m sorry for making you feel like this. You’ve been so willing to hide this just because I’m a fucking idiot… because you understand how much this all meant to me.”

“Meant?”

He delicately brings his hands to rest at your waist, leaning close enough forward until you can feel his breath on your face, “I have something in my life that’s more important than getting kicked out of a stupid frat. I-I love you Y/N.”

You don’t answer him for a moment and he feels like he’s going to collapse at first from your lack of response. He wonders if maybe he had read the last 10-months completely wrong or if you had finally had enough with his bullshit and he was just too late. Jaebeom feels all of these worries and doubts fade away when you lean forward to press your lips against his. “I love you too,” you mumbled against his lips and you felt your boyfriend smile, his grip tightening on your waist and bringing you even closer to his body until you’re flush against one another.

You felt one of his hands drift down from your waist to the hem of your skirt, slowly caressing your thigh and slipping itself underneath the material until it’s hitched up above his hand. Removing yourself from his lips, you let out a lustful sigh to let him know how much you want him to do what he’s thinking about doing. As he rests his forehead against yours, he looks down between your two bodies, his hand going to your panties, gently playing with the waistband – snapping it back and forth gently to tease you.

“Do you want me to take back that I love you?” You asked playfully.

Jaebeom laughed, “you wouldn’t dare.”

Just as you’re about to respond with a bratty “try me,” you feel him dip his hand underneath the now damp material. He smiled at your caught off guard reaction. His fingers brushed your core, his index finger moving along your slit as he gathered your juices on his finger before he brought it to his lips and sucked them gently. You watched him in the dim light and felt yourself somehow grow more wet than before. He moved his fingers back down, his thumb pressing up against your clit and you felt yourself suck in a breath at the feeling, before two of his digits pushed into your completely. With the small amount of space, you had, you lifted your hips in an effort to get more of him inside of you and he chuckled at the action.

“We have all night baby girl, don’t worry. I take care of you, always.”

You exhaled at the feeling of his thumb massaging your clit and his fingers began to pump into you at a slow rhythmic pace. He watched you for a moment wondering how he got so lucky before returning his lips back to yours.

A groan arose in your throat and against Jaebeom’s lips as he curled his middle finger into you, hitting that spot that always made you so weak and you feel your thighs begin to twitch as you near your high. Sometimes it amazed you how quick he could make you reach your release, but he already knew everything else about you so well it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he would excel at this as well.

When he picked up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, continuing to hit your g-spot each time, you felt yourself quickly come apart and your walls clench around his fingers tightly. You dropped your head down to his shoulder and felt like there wasn’t any breath left in your body as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, Jaebeom making sure not to overstimulate you and slowing his fingers down. When he finally removes his hand from you, you feel so empty almost like your body just wants to be that close to him all the time – not even in a sexual way.

When you finally feel strong enough, you bring your head off of Jaebeom’s shoulder and wrap your hands around his neck tightly, bringing him in for another kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I never want to stop saying it and I never want to stop hearing it.”

With arms still around his neck, you gently play with the hair at his nape. You feel happier than you’ve felt in a long time – which was saying something considering how happy your boyfriend had made you the past 10 months.

“Should we get out of this closet?” Jaebeom asked with shut eyes, feeling relaxed every time he’s under your touch.

“Now? You want everyone to see us now?”

He shrugged, “They’re going to find out either way so might as well just do it now. I just hope they give me time to get my stuff before they kick me out.” You feel yourself frown at his candor and the thought of Jaebeom losing the sense of belonging he had gained from being in Alpha Sig, but you remember his previous assurances. You had one another and everything was going to be fine.

Just as you’re about to respond to him, you’re interrupted by a sudden emergence of light into the closet signaling the opening of the door. You and Jaebeom both freeze when you see Yugyeom and some of the other brothers behind him.

“Can you two just come out already?”

It’s almost as though both you and your boyfriend had forgotten all of your words. Instead you stare at one another with wide eyes.

“We’re tired of all this waiting. Just come out and introduce us to your girlfriend already man,” Yugyeom whined.

This was embarrassing. Had they been… listening?

“Listen ‘Gyeom I know you chose today’s date in the pool, but that doesn’t mean you win the bet,” one of the guys from behind him said.

Yugyeom lets out a large groan and turns to the member, “what? Why not? I chose today and he was going to do it today! I swear!”

“Yeah but you ruined it by opening the door! You pretty much made the whole thing void… Haven’t you heard of like… not ruining the controlled variable in the experiment or whatever the fuck?”

“The controlled variable was the door? That doesn’t make sense. You’re as dumb as a bag of bones dude,” Yugyeom snorted, turning back to you and Jaebeom. It’s then that you feel relief as Jaebeom finally cleared his throat to say something to the many pairs of eyes fixated on you both, “can you guys please explain to me what’s going on here?”

Yugyeom rolled his eyes at Jaebeom as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to understand, “we had a bet going for when you would finally tell us about your secret girlfriend… Who to be honest isn’t really a secret. I sit next to Y/N’s friend in Econ… class friends ya know.”

You felt your mouth go dry. If they knew about Jaebeom dating an unaffiliated girl this entire time why did they let it play out for so long? Why didn’t they say something to him and make him break up with you or kick him out of the frat? Were they trying to torture the two of you for the longest amount of time possible?

It’s then when you really take in each member of Alpha Sig’s face and you see no malice or disgust at the fact that you’re not a non-affiliate. They almost seemed… happy.

You felt Jaebeom take his head into yours and he sighs once more before looking back to the guys, “listen… Y/N is my girlfriend and has been for the last 10 months… I’ve put her through so much shit and made her sneak around which she did willingly because of how amazing she is. I’ve never felt so loved and cared for by someone before and I can’t put her through more shit that’s going to make her feel less then she is. I love her and I’m sorry you guys can’t accept that. I can be out of here by tomorrow.”

As Jaebeom goes to move the two of you out of the closet, Yugyeom places his hand up causing you both to stop in your tracks.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jaebeom looks to you and then back to Yugyeom, “the rule… that we’re not allowed to date anyone who’s not affiliated. When we were pledges they told us they’ve kicked guys out for breaking the rule… remember?”

The boys in front of Jaebeom all look at him blankly until Yugyeom begins to laugh, the rest of the guys following him until you have approximately 6 frat guys laughing in your faces. Looking at your boyfriend his eyebrows are furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s confused at their reaction or annoyed.

It takes a moment for Yugyeom and the boys to finally stop laughing, “Jae… are you joking? Is that why you haven’t introduced her to us? Because of that stupid rule?”

“Yeah…”

Coming closer, Yugyeom placed his hand on Jaebeom’s shoulder, “Dude… that rule is not real. They’ve never kicked anyone out over dating someone who’s unaffiliated. Sure, the upperclassmen then didn’t want us to date someone not in an org, but they would have never made us leave… That kinda goes against the whole brotherhood thing. Besides, now we’re the upperclassmen and we just care that we’re all happy. You included.”

You felt like you could run a marathon at the amount of energy and feelings coursing through your body. You wanted to hug all of the semi-strangers in front of you, but also you wanted to hit Jaebeom for thinking that rule was a real thing when it was in fact… apparently not. In the back of your head, you make a mental note to lecture him on next time it never hurts to ask questions before you get into a secret 10-month relationship that might not need to be a secret.

“Thanks guys,” Jaebeom smiled at his brothers, with his hand still holding onto yours, caressing your smooth skin with his thumb.

“Now let’s continue this party, shall we?” Yugyeom yelled loudly as the rest of the guys cheer back in response, most of them heading back to the main living space until it’s just you, Jaebeom and Yugyeom.

The younger boy shakes his head, “I still can’t believe you were in that closet the entire time… which reminds me. I am never going in there again after the actions that occurred in there,” you felt your face grow hot at his admittance that he had heard or at least knew what had happened in the closest just moments before his grand entrance.

“I still can’t believe you knew the entire time and didn’t say anything!” You whined.

“I was expecting you to jump out as soon as I mentioned Amanda… That’s why I brought it up. Which by the way man,” Yugyeom turned to Jaebeom, “none of the girls at Theta give a shit about you.”

“That’s totally okay. There’s only one girl I want to give a shit about me,” Jaebeom smiled proudly placing his arm around you in front of Yugyeom and everyone else at the party. He relishes in how comfortable it feels to finally be like this with you in front of some of the most important people in his life. Besides you of course.

You hummed in delight and nuzzled your head against his arm, into his shoulder, “She doesn’t just give a shit about you. She kind of loves you too.”

“Just kind of?”

“Nah with her full heart.”

[rosalies-rage]

folklore x Twilight: An Analysis

folklore's lyrics match Twilight uncannily well and here’s proof! 

my tears ricochet - Rosalie

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

Rosalie would sing this to her murderer/fiancé at her funeral as he goes around being the ‘hero’ and ‘saving face’. She’s ‘screaming at the sky’ because he has stolen the one thing she really wanted from her ‘anywhere I want, just not home’. Even though she loved him ‘til [her] dying day’, she can never forgive and has no choice but to haunt him.

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exile - Edward in New Moon

I think I’ve seen this film before And I didn’t like the ending You’re not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I’m in exile seein’ you out We always walked a very thin line You didn’t even hear me out (You didn’t even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) All this time I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind)

Edward leaves in New Moon because he believes he and his world are too dangerous for Bella, exiling himself indefinitely. They had ‘always walked a very thin line’ as he tried to be with her without harming her, and he literally ‘never learned to read [her] mind’. Now he’s left and can’t do what he wanted to do, i.e protect her (’what am I defending now?’).

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august - Jacob

Salt air, and the rust on your door I never needed anything more Whispers of “Are you sure?” “Never have I ever before”

Back when we were still changin' for the better Wanting was enough For me, it was enough To live for the hope of it all Canceled plans just in case you'd call And say, "Meet me behind the mall" So much for summer love and saying "us" 'Cause you weren't mine to lose You weren't mine to lose, no

Your back beneath the sun Wishin' I could write my name on it Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinkin' I had you

Bella and Jacob start spending time together in the ‘salt air’ by La Push beach fixing beaten-up motorbikes (’rust’). Jacob knows Bella isn’t interested in him but lives in hope (’to live for the hope of it all’) and by the time the Cullens come back he’s convinced he could win Bella’s loyalties (’I remember thinkin’ I had you’). It doesn’t take place in summer, but it is a brief, intense fling that lifts Bella from her Edward-induced winter, and Bella calls Jacob her personal ‘sun’. In the end, though, Bella tells Jacob that there was never really a choice between him and Edward; it was always going to be Edward (’You weren’t mine to lose’). 

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invisible string - Alice & Jasper

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons Wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold Tied me to you

Alice woke up as a vampire with no memory of her past - all she had was her psychic abilities, which were an ‘invisible string’ leading her directly to Jasper. On Jasper’s side, he was living a brutal life training newborn armies until Alice found him and ‘wrapped all of [his] past mistakes in barbed wire’, putting ‘chains around his demons’ and leading him to a better life. You could also interpret it as his journey to chaining his inner monster that wants to kill humans when he goes to live with the Cullens.

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epiphany - Carlisle

Something med school did not cover Someone's daughter, someone's mother Holds your hand through plastic now "Doc, I think she's crashing out" And some things you just can't speak about

Only twenty minutes to sleep But you dream of some epiphany Just one single glimpse of relief To make some sense of what you've seen

This song describes the experience of medical staff during the COVID-19 pandemic, and Carlisle was a doctor during the last major pandemic (Spanish Flu in 1918), which is where he turned Edward. A religious man, he searches for an ‘epiphany’ from God while he grapples with the decision to consign another person to a life of vampirism and tries to understand whether or not he still has a soul.

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mad woman - Rosalie

Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, "Fuck you forever"? And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around

They say “move on” but you know I won’t

I'm taking my time, taking my time 'Cause you took everything from me

Rosalie is filled with anger and bitterness over her murder. She’s cast in a bad light particularly because she’s an angry, ‘mad woman’ but she explains that her murderers ‘made her like that’ when they ‘took everything from [her]’, and in return she ‘[took her] time’ when killing them to make sure they knew she was coming.

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cardigan - Bella on Jacob

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed  You put me on and said I was your favorite  You drew stars around my scars But now I’m bleedin’

Bella was destroyed after Edward left, feeling that he’d taken most of her with him and was just discarded like an unwanted toy (’I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed’). Then she started hanging out with Jacob and his friendship (’I was your favorite’) started to heal - or at least disguise - the hole in her chest (’You drew stars around my scars’). But then he left, too, when the werewolf transformation happened, which left her ‘bleeding’. It turned out she wasn’t really healed, she’d just been papering over the gap with Jacob’s love.

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illicit affairs - Edward & Bella as tragic fated lovers

Tell yourself you can always stop What started in beautiful rooms  Ends in meetings in parking lots It’s born from just one single glance but it dies and it dies and it dies A million little times 

Leave no trace behind, like they don’t even exist

When Edward first becomes enamored with Bella and wants to get closer to her, he convinces himself he can always stop - but he can’t. The more time he spends with her, the more doomed he is. When Bella gets hurt because of him, first in Twilight and then in New Moon, he disappears in hopes of keeping her safe and hides all the presents he gave her (’leave no trace behind’). 

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors you know I can't see with anyone else Don't call me "kid," don't call me "baby" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

A dwindling mercurial high A drug that only worked the first few hundred times

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

This part is Bella’s response. When he left, he took away this entire paranormal world he’d introduced her to (‘You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else’), leaving her to think she’s gone insane because not only has she lost the love of her life, all traces of an entire extra world have disappeared. She wants him to stop patronising her by saying she’ll move on like mortals do (’Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me’). Desperate to get some sense that he’s still there, she starts doing risky stunts like motorbike racing and jumping off a cliff (’A dwindling mercurial high’). Like she told him in the meadow scene in the first book, she is willing to die for him, and we see in New Moon that he feels the same way (‘you know damn well / For you I would ruin myself, a million little times’). The only way for them to stay apart would’ve been to never meet in the first place.

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seven - Rosalie on her childhood friend Vera

Please picture me in the trees I hit my peak at seven Feet in the swing over the creek I was too scared to jump in But I, I was high in the sky With Pennsylvania under me Are there still beautiful things? Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other And though I can't recall your face I still got love for you Your braids like a pattern Love you to the Moon and to Saturn Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

Rosalie fondly recalls her human life and her best friend Vera, who had the normal life she never got. This ‘love lasts so long’ even though Vera is dead by now because Rosalie still remembers her, even if her human memories are fuzzy and she can’t necessarily ‘recall [her] face’. Also, Rosalie was always valued only for her beauty, but maybe she ‘hit [her] peak at seven’ because her beauty hadn’t yet started overshadowing her personhood and she was still able to ‘scream ferociously’ at that age instead of being the girl and young woman who had to learn ‘civility’ and be married off to a rich man.

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hoax - Bella in New Moon

My only one My smoking gun My eclipsed sun This has broken me down My twisted knife My sleepless night My winless fight This has frozen my ground Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason" Your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in Don't want no other shade of blue but you No other sadness in the world would do  My best laid plan Your sleight of hand My barren land I am ash from your fire  You know I left a part of me back in New York You knew the hero died so what's the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars From when they pulled me apart

Bella’s ‘eclipsed sun’ has disappeared and left her ‘broken’, ‘sleepless’ and believing she has no way to win him back. She literally goes and stands on a ‘cliffside’ before jumping off just to see a hallucination of his face - Edward, a mythical creature, is the ‘only hoax she believes in’. Even though he’s hurt her and broken her heart, she ‘don’t want no other shade of blue but you’. He thinks he’s saving her from harm by leaving, but the scar from James still bothers her, i.e. his leaving cannot protect her as the damage has been done (’You know it still hurts underneath my scars’) and now Edward has just added emotional scars that ‘pulled [her] apart’ and left a gaping hole in her chest.

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peace - Edward & Bella in Breaking Dawn

I never had the courage of my convictions As long as danger is near And it’s just around the corner darlin Coz it lives in me No, I could never give you peace

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Throughout the series, Edward has been afraid to get too close to Bella for fear of hurting her (’danger is near’, ‘it lives in me’). Now he finally has to accept that she’s not going anywhere and value her choice. Even after he’s no longer a threat to her directly, their life is full of challenges like the Volturi. It’s impossible to guarantee her safety, and she doesn’t want him to - she wants to be in his world as an equal. He comes to terms with the fact that it’s okay if he can ‘never give [her] peace’.

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[harcourtholmesii]

An Officer’s Loyalty (Part 1)

Pairing: Medic X Reader

Notes: I just really love Team Fortress 2 and all the amazing characters! Medic is my main and my boy! I love him to pieces, and couldn’t help but write at least a little something that may or may not have a part 2 in future. Let me know what you think!

Words: 2637

Warnings:

-          Violence

-          Blood

-          Swearing/Cursing

-          Death

-          Suicide Attempt

-          Referenced Abduction and Torture

-          Drug-like Affects (Getting High)

-          Abuse

-          Trauma

 Enjoy!

 One, two!

 Left, right!

 Dodge!

 Duck!

 You were running out of time!

 The swipes from the stiletto switch blade were drawing far too close for comfort. Every strike you barely avoided, leaving behind a fine cut along your cheek, temple and several cuts through the cloth of your BLU uniform. You were cut off from the rest of the team, pistol running on empty and with an overconfident Frenchman aiming for your vitals. The aching of bruises along your body were distracting and you hated every time you had to strain your shoulders and neck. You dipped just out of the way of one of his swings, firing upwards and hitting smoke. You pulled the trigger again.

 It clicked.

 Damn it all! The nearest ammunitions drop was too far to risk running to in such a cramped corridor. You wouldn’t be able to outrun the RED Spy, and one wrong move meant your quick demise and a dizzying trip through respawn. You peered in all directions, eyes following along for any wisp of smoke or slight sound of feet. You threw your useless gun to the floor, hearing it clatter and cringing when there was no sign of it stopping against an invisible foot.

 You reached into your pocket, pulling out your own blade; small and rather useless in a fight. As an Officer, your job wasn’t supposed to be heavy offense or defence. You were a support class that acted as backup for your own BLU Spy, Sniper and Medic. Being on your own meant you were little help to anyone, and the distant sound of gunfire reminded you of your desperate position. Peering back down the corridor, you knew you only had two choices; run for the group or stay put, and hope you could hold off the Spy.

 It was an easy choice.

 You tore forward and down the long, wooded hallway; every footstep one which could be your last. You could see the scorching rays of sunlight just outside the building’s entrance. The dirt of the canyon’s bottom; red sand and sparse of a single, cool drop of water. You were almost there. There was the sound of footsteps behind you, keeping an easy pace and starting to gain. You peered over your shoulder, whipping your arm out through the air.

 It was a blind swing, but you saw a spurt of scarlet and then there was the whirr of a failing machine. The RED Spy flickered back into existence, and peeled his way past you, offering a smirk. Then the smoke poured again, and you were staring back into your own eyes; filled with a sick kind of cruelty. You slashed outwards again, but felt a hand on your wrist and you were pushed down to the floor. You were pinned.

 You struggled. His grip was too strong, and you watched as your pistol (no doubt his own revolver) raised and rest there, between your eyes. You felt your body freeze in horror. Fuck! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go!

 You turned your head up, only just able to see the BLU beam of Medic’s ubercharge, and how the gunfire and presumed ‘safety’ were so close. Your chin was pulled down, Spy having moved to dig his knees into just above your elbows.

 ‘Any last words, boudin~?’

 You growled, the cool metal of the gun burned through your brow. It hurt from the pressure. You swallowed around a sob beginning to surge its way up your throat. Like Hell you were going to show any weakness to this coward!

 ‘I hate to listen to you gloat. Get it over with.’

 You felt his knees dig further, the pressure made it feel like your arms might pop off at the halfway point. The smirk on his face grew to a twisted smile, your fake face leaning down to within only a couple of inches of your real face. You turned your head to get some distance; you could smell the cigarettes he had recently smoked.

 ‘Spy!’ His head turned up, smile dropping to an annoyed look. You tried to peer back and determine who it was that had interrupted him, but you couldn’t see. It was only now that you felt a cold grip on your heart, unlike the fear of being killed during battle. There was no sounds of explosives going off, or the crackle of gunfire and flame.

 The battle was over.

 It was silent outside of the hall, and considering Spy wasn’t concerned with the other’s appearance, it meant only one thing: your team had failed.

 And you were captured.

 ‘It is unbecoming of jou, Spy. It is very rare I see jou disrespecting some-vone like das.’ You recognised the thick, German accent. A light voice, but a dark tone. You struggled more under your doppelganger’s grip, struggling to breathe in this moment. The pain from your arms was getting far too much to bear.

 When he stood up, all the blood came flowing back through your veins, and the numb of your arms and hands became a painful flood. You curled up, holding your arms tight to you, desperate for the warmth of your body to soothe the ache. Above you, the RED Spy had retreated, taking on a far more refined appearance. The smoke poured around him, revealing his true form in the fine suit, as he took to smoking a cigarette and leaving you behind on the floor.

 ‘If you want to kill them, docteur, get it over with. Otherwise, bring them with us.’

 There was the sound of fading feet and heavier boots approaching you, when you felt a pair of strong hands lifting you up a bit from under your arms. It hurt. You groaned, and the arms gently placed you down against the wall. With you sitting up, you had started keeling forward to keep your arms close.

 A heavy, metal object was placed between your legs and hands, the nozzle of the medigun resting beneath your chin. Your arms were placed on either side so as to brace the heavy object against you, and through the haze of red, you could see dark eyes looking down at you. Realising he meant to keep you alive, you turned your head away to avoid the scarlet beams, looking around for anything that might help you escape this. There was nothing.

 Your empty pistol had been discarded a few yards away, and your knife had fallen free and apparently been kicked out of sight. Your rifle was gone, lost in the initial fray of combat. There was nothing to use that could end you quickly enough that the RED Medic couldn’t bring you back from. You couldn’t be captured; if they held you hostage, it just meant more trouble for your team, and the members of BLU would not likely hold a rescue mission for you.

 Since you joined the team, as the rookie and the new mercenary on base, these men who had known each other for years, didn’t trust your appearance. They trusted Miss Pauling, but you hadn’t been introduced by the bespectacled woman in the first place. No, you had been left on the front doorstep, without explanation. You had your papers, but even now you were under scrutiny by your teammates. They wouldn’t come to help you lest they were ordered to.

 You bit down on your tongue, but as you felt the blood pool in your mouth, the man before you rolled his eyes and forcefully gripped your chin. You tried to wrench away and felt a large digit enter between your teeth, forcing your tongue down and allowing the medigun’s beam to enter your lips. You could feel the cuts sealing as quickly as you had made them.

 ‘Das is enough. I’m not going to hurt jou.’ That was a fucking lie! Given the man’s actions both on and off the battlefield, you had no doubt that he was just trying to lure you into a false sense of security. The man ran about the field grinding a blade through bone long after a person had died, laughing all the while. His wild eyes and mad grin were imbedded deep within your subconscious.

 ‘Schtupid. Don’t do zhat again.’

 ‘Why not?’ You bit back, spitting some blood into the dirt by his feet. You pushed the medigun away from your body, beginning to stand on quaking legs. Your head felt light, and your mind seemed in a daze. It had to have been the beam; you had caught your own Medic resting his head over the nozzle with a loopy smile on his face. It probably made you high, which would explain why the pain seemed to have faded to a gentle numbness so quickly.

 ‘You are…’ You stumbled, and as he went to hold you up, you pulled back in a rush. You fell back onto your arse and started scrambling back and away from him. You saw his face, and how that grin from the battlefield wasn’t there anymore. Instead, he seemed more curious and sober after the adrenaline rush. His eyes, still dark and still holding a certain cruelty within them, were softer than what you had seen before. He approached cautiously, hands raised. ‘You are just going to t-take me back. I’ll be tied down and tortured for information.’

 There was a chuckle, but unlike the wild and almost high-pitched cackle from the battlefield, it was a deeper sound from within his chest. It unnerved you slightly.

 ‘Perhaps Spy or Soldier vould vant to, but zhat is not vhy I am offering jou help, Offizier.’

 ‘Then why?’ He had taken to kneeling down before you, and you only just realised his height. The man was taller than he appeared when in battle; he was almost always stooped over a corpse or his teammates. Him being this close, arguably the closest you had ever been to him, you could see how he reached to be nearly a head taller than yourself. Being this close, you could also see his eyes behind the spectacles, and it astounded you to see they were a bright blue.

 ‘Ve haff taken… Notice of jou und how your team treats jou. Zhere is little more I can say before returning to base. Engineer und I vanted to exchange vords vizh jou.’

 ‘And what on Earth could spark the sudden kindness?’ He leaned a little closer, and you noticed he had a dark curl that rebelled against his combed hair. As he closed the distance, you leaned back. He stopped. He cleared his throat, retreating and standing up. He offered a hand down to you.

 ‘Ve could use some-vone like jou on zhe team.’

 ‘Yes, well…’ You glared at his hand, and for a moment you thought about slapping it away. Instead though, it felt almost wrong to do so. At least, in this moment. You ignored it instead, standing with some difficulty. You braced yourself against the wall as you rose to your feet. ‘I already have a team.’

 ‘Und zhat team vill lead to jour funeral.’

 ‘Just as RED will?’

 ‘Nein.’ He stepped closer, and though you stepped back, timid under his gaze, you didn’t run. Certainly, you should have turned tail immediately upon being able to stand, but something about the civil conversation was a strange and curious circumstance you didn’t want to pass up. He was beside you now, offering an oddly tight smile. It didn’t really suit him, at least, not to your understanding of the man.

 ‘Ve haff seen how zhey treat jou.’ He rested an arm on your shoulder, and you shrugged it off, feeling the bruise still formed there beneath your uniform. ‘Und ve believe jou may be… removed if zhey do not change zheir minds about you.’

 ‘Well, as nice as it is that you care, I still don’t understand. What would suddenly spark you to want to help me?’ You bit back any insults or angered tone. It was strange how the man seemed to be genuinely reaching out to you. This was a foreign concept to you, and the fact that it came from the enemy of all people just had your mind in a whirl. Or maybe that was just the high from the medigun.

 ‘We don’t even know each other.’

 ‘So vhat did jou mean to get across to me by jour actions?’

 ‘W-What?’ What on Earth could he have been talking about? You thought it over.

 Sure, you didn’t often gun it for the man on the battlefield, but you were too busy protecting your own, ungrateful teammates. Did he mean you passing the medical kit to him once? Or twice? It was a mercy. The medigun was clearly damaged beyond all repair, and whilst it had cost your team, you didn’t feel it right to execute a man on his last legs; and one that looked so powerful on the field. It didn’t seem right, the visual of him laid up against a wall and nursing an arrow to the shoulder or a spray of bullets across his stomach and chest. You would have done it for anyone else.

 Except, now that you thought about it, you hadn’t. Sure, you kept their backs free of butterfly knives, but you hadn’t given your Medic a kit before, and you had left your Sniper behind when the gunfire got too much. You saw it as a tactical retreat at first, but now you could recall how your thoughts had turned so cruel.

 Let them be.

 They wouldn’t do the same for you.

 I’m still nursing your bruises from this morning.

 Why should I help you?

 With the RED Medic, you had hesitated to give him the medical kit, but gave it to him all the same. The man hadn’t done anything really wrong by you in the past; you were just on opposite sides. You would shoot the Spy given a fucking chance, but this man hadn’t hunted you down and tortured or taunted you on the field. He gave his fair share of insults, but the German hadn’t ever done anything… cruel to you.

 ‘I… Why would I kill you in that moment? It was hardly sporting.’

 ‘So it vas just pity, zhen?’ He said, his tone turning darker.

 ‘W-Well… No, not exactly. Look, why should I have a problem with you? We’re just on opposite teams, that’s all.’

 There was a chuckle. A smile played out on his lips. He reached down and swung the medigun back over his shoulders, and turned to offer a hand.

 ‘Zhen vhy shouldn’t I help jou?’ Good point.

 ‘Vhy don’t you come inside und at least listen to us for a little bit? If jou vant to leave, jou can.’ The darker tone had disappeared, and from his stance he seemed more relaxed.

 ‘How can I trust you?’ He shrugged his shoulders. The hand remained out for you to take.

 ‘Vell, Offizier… Jou can’t, really, but I vant to give jou a reason to. Und if jou come vizh me, ve can just talk.’

 You thought about it. The gloved, outstretched hand was a genuinely tempting, even thrilling offer. The thought about taking a chance and maybe escaping the men that had waged war on you for weeks was one you desperately wanted to take. It could be exciting. It could be the comfort you so desperately needed. It could mean starting fresh with a team that apparently wanted you.

 ‘Fine, but only under the condition that you promise to let me go if I want to leave.’ You took his hand, and the grip was gentle. The smile on his face grew, and the darkness in his eyes seemed to fade ever so slightly.

 ‘I vould expect nozhing less, schatz.’

[alleycat97]

Forgive Me Pt. 2

Time heals all wounds, and as for Bea Hughes, she had the odds stacked against her, battling a healing heart and car wreck injuries, time just seemed to drag on. She had forgiven Chloe and the two started a relationship that they wished had happened sooner.

Bea started physical therapy and it was killing her. Still bound to her wheelchair for now, she was making strides and with aid, she could walk using her own power. The neck brace was long gone but she still got headaches from the whiplash.

Chloe moved Bea into her master suite in the Zeta house, a move Poppy was furious about. No way in hell was her enemy living under the same roof as her. The audacity.

Well Bea settled in real nice. She had to listen to Poppy bitch about her presence but finally she ran out of words to bitch about and left her alone. I mean she was causing no harm to anyone, her days trying to take the throne were gone and all she cared about was healing and progressing with Chloe.

Chloe. The girl who finally threw away her loyalty to Poppy and dedicated herself to her girlfriend Bea. Chloe waited on her hand and foot. She made a promise and she was going to keep it.

Staying in the Zeta house wasn’t so bad. Zoey came by almost daily to visit and the Zeta girls treated her as one of them. Veronica quickly became one of Bea’s besties.

She would watch over Bea when Chloe had to go to class. Lucky for Chloe, she could check on her love due to Veronica’s constant streaming. She was the highlight of every vlog.

Veronica wrapped her vlog up and started doing Bea’s nails. The girl was exhausted from the therapy and Veronica thought she could help.

“I see therapy is going well.” Veronica laughed filing Bea’s fingernails.

“Uhhhh.” Bea moaned laying perfectly still.

“You’re coming along quickly, you’ll be back to yourself soon.”

“If I don’t die first. Therapy is killing me I swear. I’m too exhausted to do anything.”

“Obviously, your nails are atrocious.” Veronica started painting, making sure to hold Bea’s hand still.

“You know you make her happy?” Veronica causally spoke.

“What?” Bea asked confused.

“Chloe. I haven’t seen her genuinely this happy in a long time. You’ve got her hooked.”

“She’s too good to me.” Bea smiled. “I never thought I would say this, but sometimes I wonder if she’s too good for me.”

“Oh stop that. You have that girl whipped. I’ve never seen her stand up for herself or for anyone. She’s so far up your ass I’m afraid she’s going to suffocate.” Veronica teased.

“She is not!” Bea defended.

“Is she not? And relax babe, I meant it as a compliment, she’s madly in love with you.”

“I know. And I love her too. I just wish I could do something special for her. Show her I appreciate her for what she’s done for me.”

Veronica pondered ideas and threw some out to Bea as she wrapped up her manicure, “How about this...”

...

Chloe made it home, finally out of class and like clockwork, made a dash upstairs to check on her girl.

“Hello my sweet girl.” She greeted walking over to kiss Bea.

“Hey babe.” Bea mumbled smacking lips with Chloe.

“How do you feel today? Better?”

“A little. Look! Veronica did my nails.” Bea beamed.

“Supa cute!” Chloe squealed.

She noticed Bea became quiet after awhile, “What’s up? You have that look on your face. You want to tell me something.”

“Ummm so me and V where talking...and I booked us a weekend in the mountains.”

“What?! For when?” Chloe asked with excitement.

“This weekend.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it? I know you’ve made progress...” Chloe asked worriedly.

“I’ll be ok. It’s nothing strenuous, just a nice relaxing getaway.” Bea added.

...

The drive up was a breeze. It was only a couple of hours away and Chloe was always sure to check on Bea when they got near a rest stop.

It was beautiful. Winter time in the New York mountains. The air was crisp but the cabin was warm.

It was just the two of them and the quietness the surrounding nature provided was peaceful. The cool night air complimented the long soak in the hot tub, exactly what Bea needed. Cuddles and kisses with Chloe and a bone healing soak.

The girls went on a stroll the next morning to the property’s ice rink. It was a frozen lake just down the hill. Chloe rented a pair of skates and by the look of it, they were the first and only ones there. The low fog was gliding inches above the fresh layer of ice. The sun was rising over the evergreens, giving off that welcome warming sensation they craved.

Bea sidlelined herself momentarily. Still tied down to her wheelchair, she sipped her warm coffee and found added warmth under her fleece blanket. Just watching Chloe skate was enough. A former figure skater in her own right, Chloe gave it up when she came to Belvoire because Poppy told her to.

She was in her own world and Bea was proud to be a witness. It wasn’t about her, not today. It was Chloe’s day. But in typical Chloe fashion, she wasn’t letting her girlfriend miss out. She began to skate around, gently pushing Bea across the ice. The chilling air slapped Bea’s face causing it to change to a bright red, but she didn’t care.

She was having a blast at the safe hands of Chloe. It was their own fairytale moment neither expected. But both wouldn’t have it any other way. The giggles, the thought, the company they were in, it was all worth it.

Later that night, after the hot tub Bea finally was able to get herself out of her wheelchair on her own. It was something she and Chloe had been working on daily and finally, she done it.

Feeling bulletproof, Bea had Chloe take her shirt off and lay down in front of the wood burner. She did as instructed and propped her chin in her fist, watching out the glass windows as fresh snow started falling.

Bea struggled to ease her way down on top of Chloe. She finally threw her leg over and straddled the back of Chloe’s thighs, butt firmly against her crotch. She began to rub her back and worked her way up to her neck.

She worked Chloe’s knots out and gently caressed every inch of her beautiful skin. It was her time to spoil her girlfriend. No matter what happened next, she would have this moment with the woman she loved for as long as she lived.

“Mmmm. That feels so good Bea.” Chloe moaned in pleasure.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying. I want to spoil you to no end love.”

“Wowww, and what did I do to deserve all this love?”

“For just being you. For loving me and taking care of me when no one else would. I love you Chloe St. James. With all my heart.”

Okkkkk, Chloe began to cry, that’s all she ever wanted to hear, it was never enough, but it would do for now, “I love you Bea Hughes. So so much.”

Chloe wiggled her way out of Bea’s embrace and ran to make hot chocolate and returned to join Bea in the floor. The two took a blanket and cuddled up next to the stove and watched the snow fall, one question still looming in Chloe’s mind.

“So I take it, that I’m forgiven?”

“Yes Chloe.” Bea teased. “For the millionth time, you’re forgiven. Now kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[flowesona]

Misprize

The Anarchy AU

Pairing: Yandere! Jungkook x reader

Warning: Graphic Threats of Violence

All Jungkook could see was red. Not that he was angry, but that his eyes were shut tight defensively. He couldn’t peel them open, not even when he heard approaching footsteps.

“Is he alive?” The voice of one of his friends, laced with melancholy.

“Doesn’t look like it. We don’t have time to wait.”

“We can’t leave him-“

“Yes, we can. Survival is key. Friendship is secondary. Let’s go.” Jungkook wanted nothing more than to make some sort of noise or move to let them know that they were wrong, but in the blistering pain over his body he couldn’t even muster up the slightest whimper. With their decision made, the footsteps echoed into the distance.

For a while, all he could do was lie still, his body working as hard as it could to keep him working, no matter how tempting it was to slip away.

Then he felt a weathered hand on his forehead, and another around his wrist. Checking for a pulse.

Jungkook’s perseverance had broken through, as he felt someone put an arm under his shoulder to lift him up to his feet, and he blinked for a second. Through his blurry vision he saw the outline of his saviour before everything faded away.

»»———————►

A warm sunlight awaited Jungkook when he finally woke up, sitting up and letting the cold towel on his head flop to the ground pathetically. His sudden momentum alerted the other person in the room, who turned towards him.

You could have told Jungkook that he really had died and gone to heaven, because she was an angel. Her (H/C) hair was highlighted and glowing in the patchy sunshine that streamed through the boarded up window.

“I was worried you were never going to wake up.” He didn’t realise he’d been staring until after a while she spoke and woke him out of his daydream.

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I’m sorry, you must be thirsty.” She offered him the water bottle sat next to her. It was warm and tasted musty, but Jungkook couldn’t help but to gulp it down as if it were liquid gold.

“W-why?” was all that he could croak out.

“You were badly wounded, but not dead. I couldn’t just let you die.” She smiled. He looked down to see a few patchy beige bandages on his chest, and a green bandana tied around his arm. When he looked up again, he met her gaze.

“Do you have a name?” She asked, offering her hand for him to shake.

“J-Jungkook.” He managed to stutter through his newly regained voice.

“I’m (Y/N).” She took his limp hand and gave it a mock shake, whilst Jungkook just stared at her, enamoured.

»»———————►

Before he had met (Y/N), Jungkook was certain he was destined for an early grave. Sure, he had the fighting skills necessary to survive, yet he had nothing to live for but his friends, who had left him for dead. But after he was saved, he found a purpose to his life - to be with (Y/N). Gone was the sentimentality and loyalty for the people he’d spent years with and in its place was a enamouration with the girl who’d given him salvation.

He was able to recover quicker than anticipated. Within a matter of days he was walking again, only with a slight stagger from the pain in his side. Still, he still simpered and asked for her to care for him and ease his pain, which she did so with a kind smile. Not once in that week did they leave their shelter, and supplies were starting to run thin.

“Just stay here and rest. I swear I’ll be back as soon as I possibly can.” (Y/N) pressed the handgun into Jungkook’s hands. “Don’t go looking for a fight and you’ll be fine.”

“Please don’t go, (Y/N). What if…” He whimpered, eyes downcast to evoke as much sympathy as he could. (Y/N) just sighed and pressed a kiss into his forehead, leaving whilst he was still frozen with glee.

»»———————►

“Stay behind me.” Jungkook commanded, peering out from behind the corner. After he was completely healed, he hadn’t even given (Y/N) a choice in the matter of him accompanying her when she had to adventure out. It made his chest swell with pride to see her behind him, letting him protect her should they encounter anyone violent.

“Coast looks clear.” He muttered, still keeping his half empty gun in his hands, not prepared to give anyone the slightest chance to hurt (Y/N).

“Who’s there?” Suddenly, a voice called out. The duo immediately pressed their backs to the wall, praying that they hadn’t been noticed.

“Hello?” There was an audible crunch of gravel from torn up tarmac under the strangers feet. But all that Jungkook could hear was the beating of his heart in his ears. He wasn’t ready to fight again, but he would have to do so for her. For (Y/N).

But when he came face to face with the stranger, he lowered his weapon immediately.

“Tae?” A smile spread across his face at meeting his long-lost friend.

“You’re alive?” Taehyung lowered his weapon and pulled him in for an embrace.

“(Y/N) saved me.” Jungkook replied simply, but when Taehyung made eye contact with her and offered her his classic boxy smile, the younger man felt a weird kind of sickness in his stomach.

»»———————►

The leader of the gang offered his hand to (Y/N) with a grateful expression.

“Thank you for saving him, (Y/N). It wasn’t fun to leave him behind like that.”

“It’s okay!” She smiles, taking his hand and shaking it. “He didn’t deserve to die, so I made it my mission not to let him.”

Her words made Jungkook’s heart soar. They really were the perfect couple, at least in his mind. Maybe she saw him as an angel too, on that day?

“Do you have any plans for what to do now that Jungkook’s back with us?” He tuned back into the conversation, interest piqued.

“Yeah, there’s a place I need to go.” Panic flooded Jungkook’s brain, bile building up on his stomach at the thought that she would be leaving.

“You’re sure we can’t help you with anything?” Namjoon persisted, noting the look on the maknae’s face.

“It’s best that I don’t disturb you any longer.” (Y/N) said simply with her everkind nature.

Jungkook couldn’t bear such a conversation any longer.

“Stay here for tonight (Y/N). It’ll be much safer if you leave in the morning.” Luckily with just the right tone and expression (Y/N) agreed to his offer.

»»———————►

By the way the room was nearly blanketed in darkness with the exception of some moonlight peeking through the window, Jungkook could deduce it was midnight.

‘Perfect.’

As much as it pained him to do so, he detached himself from (Y/N) to stand up, feeling warm at the sight of her sleeping peacefully, despite being devoid of his previous warmth.

Yet there was a bigger issue at hand. He stalked through the corridor with light steps until he reached the room at the end, tapping on the wood twice until he heard a deep voice say “come in.”

Namjoon looked up from his map, a stressed expression on his face. Jin was equally perplexed, but nonetheless beckoned Jungkook to join them.

“Is something the matter? You’ve been antsy all evening.” Jin was the first one to speak.

“Hyung, why won’t you let (Y/N) stay?” Jungkook’s voice was quiet yet it could be heard loud and clear by both men.

“We asked her if she wanted to and she said that she has other plans.” Namjoon answered simply.

“Bullshit. You didn’t offer to let her stay.” The harshness of the young man’s voice shocked both of the elders. “You didn’t give her the choice to stay with me like she wants to.”

“It’s not like that-”

“Why are you trying to keep us apart?!” Jungkook growled. “Do you hate her? Is that why you’re trying to throw her out, so that she can be ripped apart by all the other savages?”

“Calm down.” Jin snapped. The red anger in Jungkook’s eyes faded, and his fist uncurled for a second.

“If you’re so pent up about this, we’ll ask her in the morning. But if she says no, there’s nothing we can do about it.” Jungkook sniffled, reaching into his pocket to find the one thing that could comfort him in this situation. (Y/N)’s green bandana, which he rubbed between his fingers as if it were a security blanket, so he could tell himself that she would stay.

“She’ll stay. (Y/N) loves me, so she’ll stay. And I don’t want to see either of you even try to talk to her after trying to kick her out like this.” He clenched the cloth tighter.

Neither of the older men responded.

“Right?” Jungkook withdrew his hand from his pocket, ready to use whatever force necessary to get compliance.

“What’s that?” Namjoon asked, taking note of the cloth clenched in his fist.

The boy didn’t reply, still tense.

“Give it here, Jungkook.” Before, he would have complied instantly. But now he just glared.

“You want to take another part of (Y/N) away from me? Why, do you have some sadistic lust for her? I’ll break your fucking knees.” Jungkook growled, holding his fist to his chest.

“That belongs to (Y/N)?” The young man nodded tersely.

“Fuck.”

»»———————►

“Get out.” (Y/N) was awoken by the harsh stamp of a boot mere centimetres away from her head. Opening her eyes groggily she saw Taehyung.

“What…?” She slurred, still drowsy from sleep.

“You’re a filthy rat. Hoxton’s sent you to spy on us, huh?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-” (Y/N)’s heart was pounding out of her chest. When she’d found out Jungkook was in BTS, she’d felt a horrible anxiety in her stomach that they could have found out about her background, but now the nightmare was coming true.

Outside of the room she could hear a scuffle. It was at that precise moment that she realised Jungkook wasn’t in the room, as she heard his cries outside.

“Don’t you dare hurt my (Y/N)! If you so much as touch her I’ll rip your head off, I’ll break every single one of your fingers, I’ll gouge your eyes out-”

She wasn’t quite sure what was more terrifying, her predicament or the previously sweet boy’s violent threats.

Taehyung didn’t seem to be affected however, his resolve hard as he dragged (Y/N) out.

When Jungkook saw her arm held tightly in his “friend”’s grasp, he started struggling against the hold of his elders with a fresh passion, ugly tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t hurt her Tae! She saved me, she means so much to me, you can’t hurt her!” He begged, trying to appeal emotionally when threats were redundant.

“Be quiet, Jungkook.” Jin snapped, only being rewarded with an elbow to the face. He let go of Jungkook’s arm to clutch his now bleeding nose, letting Jungkook shake Hoseok off his other arm.

Mere seconds passed before Taehyung was being held in a choke hold, struggling against his friend’s iron grip with a whimper.

“What are you doing Jungkook?” His attention was stolen away from strangling Taehyung to his angel, watching from the floor frozen in place.

“He was going to kill you! I can’t let that happen!” Jungkook was flushed with rage but also an embarrassment from how (Y/N) was looking at him.

Naturally everyone else in the gang was horrified at what was happening. Two of their members fighting over the fate of a traitor. But something had to be done before Taehyung was choked to death.

“If you let him go, we’ll talk about this with you.” Namjoon negotiated, breathing a sigh of relief when Jungkook complied. Taehyung was dropped to the ground, where he started to breathe heavily, pupils wide with adrenaline.

“(Y/N), can you explain this?” The leader turned his attention to the girl, holding up a slightly grubby green piece of cloth. One that spoke a thousand words.

“I… I don’t want to be in any gang. I just want to help people.” She couldn't meet anyone’s eyes, head hung in shame. “I’ll leave, and I won’t ever even think about you guys again. I’m done with everything; All of these fucking gangs just keep fighting for power and I don’t want any part in it!”

Jungkook searched her face desperately for some sign that she was lying. Surely she wanted to stay with them? Surely she couldn’t leave him so easily?

However, he was proven wrong as she stood up, brushing off the dust clinging to her clothes.

“No, (Y/N)! You… you can’t leave!” Jungkook pleaded.

“I’m so sorry… for ultimately hurting you Jungkook.” With a heavy heart she turned away.

Only to be stopped dead in her tracks when a knife was raised to her throat.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” The rest of the gang looked at Jin incredulously.

“You know enough about us to be a threat should you leak it to your buddies. We’ll decide what to do with you later, but for now you’re staying with us, whether you like it or not.” His eyes flashed over to Jungkook. Whilst he feared a violent response, he was relieved to see to the reaction he’d been aspiring for: happiness.

Sure, it wasn’t the best solution to the argument, but if it kept the youngest happy and prevented fighting, Jin was prepared to sacrifice one girl’s free will.

»»———————►

The heavy scent of blood lingered in the air. A few years ago, such an atmosphere would have made (Y/N) wretch, but experience had hardened her stomach.

“(Y/N)! You’re not hurt, are you Angel?” Jungkook tutted, examining her face quickly. He found a graze on her cheek, and it was as if she had been shot. “I told them you shouldn’t come with us, why did you? We need to get back to base to treat it!”

Too tired to protest, she let him tug her away from the fight. Until she heard someone shout her name. A familiar voice calling out to her.

“(Y/N)! Oh my God (Y/N)! You’re alive!” Tears welled up in the young woman’s eyes at the sight of her brother. He was breathing heavily, clutching a wound in his side, but at the same time he had a ten-kilowatt smile on his face.

“Are you-”

The boy had mere seconds before he slumped to the ground, the loud ‘bang’ of a gunshot echoing through the desolate area. The few seconds that seemed to last an eternity were only filled with Jungkook’s heavy breathing.

Jungkook lowered his gun, huffing.

“We need to go.” He said simply, glowering.

“Are you insane? Jungkook, that was my brother! My family! You just killed him, you sick-” (Y/N) sobbed. She wanted to scream, to fight, but she was too shocked to do anything but mourn.

“Your brother? Glad I got rid of him then.” Jungkook’s scowl didn’t let up. “He would’ve taken you back to that gang, away from me. He deserves this.”

For a moment, (Y/N) took his words into consideration. She didn’t want to rule that he was a sick monster, a murderer, a maniac. But the smoke wafting from his gun was enough to overcome all her

She tugged her hand out of his grasp, glaring and taking a few steps away from him.

“(Y/N)? Please, understand me Angel! You can’t leave me! You can’t!” Jungkook’s emotions were changing like a weather, going from moody to tearful in a heartbeat.

(Y/N) couldn’t find the words to reply. Surely this was a nightmare? Surely she’d wake up and her brother would be safe, and the name Jeon Jungkook would mean nothing to her?

She room another shaky step away. Instantly, his face contorted with despair. He raised the pistol to point it at her leg before pulling the trigger.

Pain blossomed in her leg. (Y/N) collapsed onto the floor, cradling her now injured limb as Jungkook stalked towards her, smirking.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. But now I can return the favour, right? I’ll save you, I can nurse you back to health! Then we can stay together!” His eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke, scooping her off the ground gracefully, being sure to be tender with her leg as to not cause excess pain.

“We don’t even have to stay here! If you don’t like everyone else in BTS, we can just leave! Yes, that’s perfect! We’ll leave and find our own place to settle in, away from all this chaos in the city!” Jungkook babbled, sighing happily. “We can grow vegetables and raise a family in the countryside! Ah, I’m so excited already!”

As (Y/N) rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, she knew she had no greater regret than offering Jungkook a chance at life.

[bloodfromthethorn]

Interrogation

A Musketeers angst fic as a Christmas present to myself. Inspired entirely by @why-this-kolaveri-machi‘s recent ficlet

As Richelieu’s manipulations went, even d’Artagnan had to admit this was a masterstroke. A combination of a few careful rumours, paying off a handful of mercenaries to stage an attack, and the oh-so-careful planting of evidence in his dorm room and suddenly d’Artagnan found himself surrounded by armed Red Guards in the middle of the street with no help in sight. Even when Treville had shown up, shouting something about the King’s orders and the authority of the Musketeers, the outcome had still been a swift, terrifying march to the Bastille and a series of freezing cold nights in a cell with no word from anyone.

In short, d’Artagnan was having a bad week.

The one positive of this whole awful affair was that apparently Treville still held enough sway with Louis to ensure his interrogation would be handled by the Musketeers rather than the Red Guard – keeping any dirty laundry in house, as it were – so he was probably faring better than he otherwise might. At the same time, it meant he found himself faced with the three men he would previously have said he trusted most in the world and being forced to look them in the eye as they questioned every decision he had ever made with open suspicion on their faces.

He shifted in his chair for the third time in as many minutes, wishing he could at least have his hands unbound so he could shake out the stiffness that had taken root. “I’ve told you,” he said again, weary, “I have no idea who Reynard is.”

“There are eyewitnesses who swear to have seen you meeting with him on multiple occasions.” Athos’ voice was stone cold, level and emotionless. Aramis and Porthos had at least had the grace to believe d’Artagnan in the beginning, before the evidence started piling up against him, but it was clear that their de facto leader had harboured no such hopes from the moment the chains were closed around d’Artagnan’s wrists. Richelieu had called him a traitor, and Athos had taken him at his word.

“Then they’re lying. I don’t know anyone called Reynard.”

“Did you know he was under the employ of the Spanish army when you met with him?”

“I never met with him,” he stressed, knowing it would make no difference. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise half a second before the cane in Aramis’ hand flicked against his shoulder; more of a warning than an actual blow, but enough to sting all the same. He hissed. “It’s the truth. I don’t know how to prove it to you.”

“When did you last visit the Rue de la Lièvre?”

He thought for a moment, long enough for Aramis’ cane to come to rest lightly against his shoulder blade. “About a month ago,” he said eventually. “Not long after I arrived in Paris. I was exploring.”

"Exploring? Why?"

It was obvious Athos had immediately assumed he was doing something nefarious, but the truth was simply that Porthos had suggested he get to know his new environment should any more trouble come knocking at his door. It had been good advice and he'd happily done as he was bid - somehow he didn't think that explanation would help.

"I was new to the city. I'd never been to Paris before. I wanted to learn more about it since it looked like I'd be staying."

Instead of shooting off another question, Athos took a moment to lean back in his chair to examine him, his eyes sharp and unreadable. d'Artagnan, half starved and gradually freezing to death, stared balefully back, too wrung out and exhausted to even offer up any malice at the speed with which his so-called friends had turned on him. He wanted nothing more than for this to be over, no matter what the outcome might be.

Behind Athos, leaning casually against the wall with a dark expression heavy on his brow, Porthos opted for a different approach. "d'Artagnan, you haven't eaten in three days. I can see you shivering from here. If you tell us what we need to know then we can help you - get you some food and blankets. Maybe even get you out of here altogether. Reynard isn't worth your loyalty. Let us help."

The act was good, very good. It might even have been believable if it hadn't been greatly overshadowed by Athos' presence looming large and the fact that yesterday, the cane had been in Porthos' hand. 

Still, it was as good an opening as any.

"If I knew the answers to your questions, I would tell you. I am loyal to France. I would never betray my King." 

I would never betray the Musketeers hung cold in the back of his throat, but invoking their name had historically not gone well during these little chats and d'Artagnan was good at learning from his mistakes. He swallowed it down.

"The first time I heard the name Reynard was when you asked me about him. I have never been to Spain. I have never knowingly had any contact with anyone associated with the Spanish army. I would never betray my country."

He was breathing too quickly, he realised with a start. He forced himself to take a deep breath and cursed himself when it shook. The cane brushed over the back of his neck.

Athos leant forward again with something unshakeable in his eyes. "Before your arrest, you were apprenticed with the Musketeers."

It wasn't a question, but he paused so d'Artagnan nodded.

"You had been with the regiment for about a month."

"Yes."

"Why did you join them?"

Despite his crippling exhaustion, he found the energy to feel a sudden surge of irritation. "It wasn't to uncover state secrets if that's what you're getting at."

The cane snapped sharply against his back with a thundering crack of sound. He cursed breathlessly, writhing until the pain ebbed enough to bite out a better answer. "I needed work and it seemed like a good fit. They were honourable men."

If Athos took issue with his use of the past tense, he didn't show it. "You agreed to risk your life in service of the King for so small a reason?"

"Athos," he breathed out, still shuddering with pain, "You know why I joined."

He had the gall to laugh at that. "It has become very clear that anything we thought we knew of you cannot be trusted. Answer the question."

It was the response he'd expected, but it still hurt to hear. Unbidden, he remembered how Aramis and Porthos had immediately and unflinchingly brushed aside his accusations against Athos when he had first met them, the ardency with which they held their ground against a tidal wave of suspicion. He'd had no misconceptions about his worth relative to their friend of many years, but their willingness to believe the worst of him still managed to catch him off guard. 

"I had nowhere else to go. My family is gone and I didn't want to resign myself to a lifetime of farming. The only other skill I have any claim to possess is swordcraft." Although given that one of the guards had broken his finger on his first night here and he hadn't been able to set it right by himself, it was perfectly possible he'd never hold a sword right again. Not that he had any real hope of getting out of prison alive at all. 

"You could have been a mercenary. I hear the pay's better."

"I wanted to serve my country."

"Which country is that?"

He sighed, deeply and with feeling, only to gasp in another breath when the cane came down again. He hissed through his teeth and pretended like tears weren't beading at the corner of his eyes. "France."

Athos hummed to himself. “It is very uncommon for apprentice Musketeers to be allowed the seniority you were by virtue of your relationship with us. Did you intentionally manipulate us to gain greater access to the King?”

He forced himself not to flinch and shook his head slowly. These questions were pointless - no one was going to believe a word he said anyway, even if he’d had the answers they were looking for. “No. I didn’t know anything about you when I met you. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have tried to kill you.”

"Why did you come to Paris?"

Not liking where this was going, d'Artagnan's answer was monotone. "My Father was hoping to petition the King for relaxing the taxes in Gascony. We'd had a few bad harvests in a row and people didn't have the money to pay them."

"Did you petition the King?"

"No. After my Father died, I abandoned his mission. I continued on to Paris in search of the man that killed him."

"Me."

"You."

There was a weighted, vicious pause, then, "Do you have any proof that your Father really did perish on that trip?"

The fury that overcame d'Artagnan was so sudden and so blinding that his muscles were trying to launch him out of his chair before his brain could remind him he was tied down. As it was, Aramis' hand caught him by the throat and slammed him back into his seat before he could do anything more than rock it violently forward. "Stay down," he hissed sharply, but softened the threat by turning to Athos and saying, "Porthos and I can confirm that, at least. We spoke to the innkeeper, saw the grave. His story's true."

The marksman's hand stayed curled around d'Artagnan's neck for several strained breaths, evidently a threat. As it was, d'Artagnan did nothing but try to breathe through the searing anger and crippling grief that had torn right through his centre. To be called a traitor was one thing, to question his Father's memory was altogether another. 

This was not the time or place to break apart, but d'Artagnan could feel the fault lines threatening to tear open. 

"d'Artagnan," Athos started, then hesitated. It was the first sign of uncertainty he'd displayed all day. "We just need to know what information you passed to Reynard, that's all. Tell us that and we can be done here."

He sounded earnest and that somehow hurt more, to know that Athos still cared just enough to not want to watch him starving to death, but too little to actually believe anything he said. d'Artagnan wished he had the strength to laugh. "That's easy enough," he said instead of trying to convince them any longer, "I told him nothing."

Porthos sighed heavily, pushing off from the wall to bring himself level with Athos, looming over the table like a dread spectre. "What is it you're protecting? What's more important to you than your own life?"

d'Artagnan briefly fought a losing battle against the urge to let his chin drop to his chest, his eyes slipping closed under the weight of his own exhaustion. When he spoke, even he could hear how defeated he sounded. "I'm not protecting anything. I don't know any Reynard, and whoever's claiming I do is probably who you're really looking for. If I could prove it to you, I would."

Athos' lips thinned, visibly unconvinced. d'Artagnan flinched a beat before the cane flicked against the meat of his arm and cursed loudly at the sting. "It's the truth," he bit out, letting the frustration shine through. "I don't know the answers you're looking for."

"d'Artagnan, there are four different people willing to swear that you met with Reynard on multiple occasions and we found missives with his name hidden in your room, along with more money than you could ever have made from your farm. Do you really expect us to believe you don't know anything about the Spanish plot?"

If he'd had anything to drink in the last two days, he would have wept with his own frustration. "I know you won't believe me. It's still the truth."

In the corner of his eye he saw the cane twitch, but Athos waved Aramis down before the blow could land. He pushed away from the table with a heavy sigh. "We're getting nowhere today. Let's see if another night here helps to jog your memory."

There was a certain relief in that, free from the threat of the cane and the judgement in his friends' eyes, but it meant another night cold and hungry with no respite. He barely resisted the urge to groan.

"He needs water," Aramis put in quietly. "He'll last without food for another few days but he has to drink if we want him able to talk."

Athos nodded easily, accepting his ruling. "Speak to the guards, make sure it happens." With that he was gone, sweeping out of the room without another glance at the young man he would once have called brother and leaving a thoroughly defeated d'Artagnan to be frogmarched back to his cell by Aramis and Porthos in silence.

His promised water didn't appear for another few hours, when a guard he'd never seen before dumped a bucket in the corner of his cell with a thump. Sunken down on his little patch of straw against the far wall, d'Artagnan didn't react even when the guard cursed his name and spat on the floor beside him, taking care to slam his door with enough force to shake the room. It was one of the least offensive encounters d'Artagnan had had since his arrest; that awareness in and of itself was almost enough to put him off drinking the water after all. As it was, he eventually decided that tomorrow's interrogation would be even more tortuous if he was critically dehydrated at the same time, and he hadn't quite reached the stage of trying to kill himself.

Just as he had for the last however many nights, d'Artagnan spent his time curled tightly in a shivering ball in the corner of his cell, desperately trying to ward off the pervasive chill that swept beneath his door. One of the few benefits of his previous occupation was that the guards were sufficiently wary of him to not trust him with a windowed cell, so he at least didn't have to try to cope with wind and rain pouring into his tiny little portion of Hell, but it was far from comfortable. Frozen stiff and hopeless, he didn't sleep a wink.

The Musketeers were back at dawn, dragging him from his semi-aware fugue state and back into his gloomy little interrogation chamber without fanfare.

"Sleep well?" Aramis asked snidely as he bound his hands firmly back in place. d'Artagnan didn't bother to respond.

Even though he wasn't the one who spent the night freezing in a cell, Athos somehow managed to look even more drawn than d'Artagnan did when he settled himself down across from him. He slid a piece of paper across the table towards him without a word, his face pale and tight. 

A glance at the parchment showed a long passage of text with a signature scrawled at the bottom, followed by a very official looking seal. Unable to reach for it and far too weary to try to interpret the scratchy handwriting at a distance, d’Artagnan just returned his gaze to Athos and waited for the inevitable question. 

“Do you know what this is?”

“No.”

“Do you recognise the handwriting?”

In an attempt to not anger Athos in the first few minutes of the day, he obliged him by casting a more searching glance over the page, but came away none the wiser. “No.”

“Do you recognise the seal?”

“Red Guard. Richelieu, maybe.”

The cane, back in Aramis’ hand, grazed against his collarbone. “Cardinal Richelieu.”

It was a testament to d’Artagnan’s sheer strength of will and his desire to not make things worse for himself than they already were that he was able to restrain himself from hissing, Like you give a damn. Instead, he clenched his jaw, and kept silent. 

Seemingly satisfied, Athos withdrew the paper to look at it himself. “This is the sworn statement of Gaspard Vincent - a resident on the Rue de la Lièvre."

"One of my witnesses," d'Artagnan said lowly, starting to connect the dots.

Athos hummed in agreement. "He claimed that he had hosted you and Reynard on several occasions, under threat of retribution should he reach out to the authorities."

"Claimed?"

There was a long, still pause during which d'Artagnan doggedly crushed the hope threatening to spark to life in his chest. Eventually Athos sighed. “He recanted his testimony yesterday morning. Twelve hours later, he reconfirmed his original statement.”

There was no doubt something meaningful there, but d’Artagnan was starving and exhausted and he had absolutely no desire to play Athos’ games. “Meaning?”

The cane rested carefully against his shoulder, a gentle caution to watch his tone. That he hadn’t already received a blow was… unusual. “It means we have reason to doubt his word.”

“Why did he reconfirm?” There was a telling pause. “You think someone threatened him, don’t you? You’re just trying to work out which way the intimidation went.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell us that he only testified against you because he was being threatened?”

d’Artagnan couldn’t help momentarily raising his eyes to the heavens as though to plead for strength. “I’ve been telling you that for five days.”

“Buying off one witness wouldn’t explain everything else. We found evidence of treason in your room d’Artagnan.”

“You really think someone with the power to make a handful of witnesses appear on command couldn’t get into my room? I wasn’t even there the day I was arrested.” The cane snapped harshly against the meat of his back, but he forced himself to keep his voice level. With bruises layered over bruises, he found it faintly remarkable he could still feel the pain at all. “I spent that entire night in The Wren, watching your back when you decided to drown yourself in a wine bottle. Do you really think it’s an impossibility that someone snuck into the house when I wasn’t there?”

He heard the cane whistle through the air, but Athos flicked a hand up and the strike never came. d’Artagnan breathed out slowly. “You were in The Wren,” Athos confirmed quietly, his eyes far away and distant as though he was only just now realising this fact. “I remember you being there.”

If his hands had been free, he thought he might be tearing his hair out in frustration. “Why on Earth does that make any difference?”

When no immediate response was forthcoming, Porthos inched forwards to fill the silence. “It makes a difference because another witness claimed you met with Reynard that night.”

d'Artagnan blinked, breathed, then surprised himself by laughing sharply. "Of course they did."

"I-" Athos started, then halted uncertainly. He threw a wild look in Aramis' direction, clearly thrown. If he hadn't already known, d'Artagnan would need no more evidence that Athos had entirely forgotten about his presence in the inn that evening. 

Porthos' hand landed on his shoulder, steadying. "We need to talk to that witness. No sense hammering d'Artagnan any more today if we're not sure about those statements."

For something that seemed as though it should have been a thrilling redemption, their session ended with remarkably little fanfare after that. Athos and Porthos disappeared before Aramis had even got him untied, and it was clear the marksman had absolutely no intention of offering him any further information. He had a vague sense that the man thought they had already said too much.

d'Artagnan knew that pressing for answers was futile and as likely to backfire on him as help, but all he could see was Athos' lost expression when he'd realised a second witness had been caught lying. Despite everything, he found himself turning to Aramis just before his hands came free. "Did he hesitate? When Richelieu called for my head, and I was arrested- Did he hesitate?"

His voice sounded raw to his own ears, and maybe that was why Aramis didn't immediately lash out. The tears shining bright in his eyes might also have had something to do with it.

"We all did."

There was nothing he could say to that that wouldn't hurt them both. He walked back to his cell in silence.

What followed was an awful lot of nothing. He heard nothing more from the Musketeers for three full days, but his outlook did brighten substantially when his now-daily bucket of water was joined by a hunk of bread and cheese, and a small collection of blankets was quietly deposited in his chilly corner. It wasn't comfortable by a long shot, but it was miles better than what he'd had and it was a strong sign his future might hold something more substantial than a slow, miserable death and an unmourned grave. 

With so little contact with the outside world, he had no real idea what to expect when a guard appeared in his doorway and ushered him out without an explanation. For all his new-found comforts, he still wore the weight of days without food and water, spattered with bruises and aching in ways he hadn't known possible, so when he was led through a door into the sunlight he could do little more than blink, half-blind and confused. The guards flanking him retreated in silence and it was only after he watched them leave that he turned his head to see Athos, Porthos, and Aramis standing before him.

All three of them looked unsure of themselves, clutching their hats to their chests and watching him warily. 

"What's going on?" He rasped, though he was starting to catch on quickly. He’d initially assumed he had been led into an inner courtyard for whatever reason, but as his eyes adjusted to the light it became clear he was standing in the square that fronted the prison. Well beyond the Musketeers, he could see the bustle of people going about their business like always. The guards wouldn’t have left him here, Musketeers or no, unless they no longer felt the need to keep him contained. 

After an uncertain heartbeat, Athos stepped forward. “Your name has been cleared. The King has issued a pardon, and an apology for your treatment.” He hesitated, then added softly, “We need to apologise too.”

d’Artagnan considered that for a moment. He thought about every bruise he could feel prickling against his skin, every harsh word, every sleepless night, took a deep breath and held it. When he felt steady enough, he met Athos’ eye. “I’m free to go?”

“Yes.” He untucked a bundle from beneath his arm and held it out carefully - d’Artagnan’s sword and pistol. “The rest of your belongings have been returned to your lodgings.”

He had to force himself not to recoil at Athos’ nearness, but he reached out to reclaim his weapons all the same, tucking the belt back around himself like an old friend. He half-wanted to scorn the offering, but it was his Father’s sword and no amount of spite was worth losing it now; the moment it was back in its rightful place, he felt strength starting to leech back into his bones.

“d’Artagnan,” Aramis started, sounding wrecked, only to cut himself off when his eyes snapped to the marksman’s. 

He looked around the three of them for a moment, taking in their guilt, then made a careful sidestep and walked straight for the main gate without a word. None of them tried to stop him, but he heard at least one of them suck in a sharp breath as he marched forcefully past him; he tried very hard not to take any satisfaction from finally, finally having the upper hand. 

As cornered as it had made him feel, his friends’ ambush had served one purpose: he knew where he needed to go to collect his things. A quick stop during which he was viciously grateful his landlord and lady weren’t home, and he was free to put the garrison and its Musketeers at his back and start walking. 

He was gone from Paris by nightfall. 

On AO3 here

[mudwingpropaganda]

Thoughts on Riptide and how would you fix him?

UGH. Riptide....

Upon every time I’ve read Riptide, he has simply never shown signs of having a personality. He simply was the plot device. Helping the Dragonets - or, more appropriately, Tsunami - get from one part of the story to the next. He was the sole reason anyone made any progress in The Lost Heir. It was kind of disappointing! It kind of reads as Tsunami not having the competency to move forward by herself and make meaningful choices. Nooooo, she needed a love interest to make sure she got there. 

(But, to be fair, I do have a personal attachment to TLH... I reread TDP over and over and getting TLH opened a whole world to me. So I can never say I truly hate it.)

But fixing Riptide would be so EASY! Just give him a personality? Make him a little more consistent? Use him as a tool to keep the story somewhat tied together instead of a cute little boy toy, I guess? Let’s see.

I would make it more prominent that Riptide was a part of the Talons of Peace. As it stood, it seemed like a last-ditch surprise to get Tsunami to suddenly hate Riptide. In my opinion, I feel like, rather than stalking Tsunami, he should have been on a mission to observe the Dragonets of Destiny, until he could communicate with the Talons of Peace that they were safe. That way he could be grating on Queen Coral’s nerves and give her more of a justifiable reasoning for imprisoning Webs. He was observing the Dragonets of Destiny as they nearly drowned. He was constantly trying to get close to her once-missing daughter. 

To give Riptide his own personality, aside from estranged love interest, he would be a dragon with a skewed sense of loyalty. After losing his father to the peace movement, Talons of Peace, he was forced into a world where his mother was killed by a petty queen, and outcast from his kind and made as a dragonet who was a traitor by no fault of his own. So, he pursued that title. That, if his queen wouldn’t accept him, then pursuing his father, the only family he had left, would fill some pit in his stomach. That if he met his father, something would click and everything that he was put through would be worth it. 

He’d be more spiteful, but subtly. Upon realizing that the Dragonets of Destiny were before him, the dragonets that his father opted to raise as opposed to his own son, he’s frustrated. And to a point vengeful. And he’s this close to attacking Tsunami, in a fruitless attempt to be the only SeaWing successor to Webs. That if he hadn’t thought about how moments before to keep an eye out for the escaped prophecy Dragonets, TLH would have been a lot shorter. 

But instead, he’s grumpily protective. Trying to force the non-SeaWing dragonets to stay away from the palace, knowing fully well they’d kill the only hope to ending the war (sans the secondary DoD). He begrudgingly, but stubbornly, keeps an eye on Tsunami, being unaware of who’s killing SeaWing heirs. He teaches her Aquatic, close to swearing curses upon his father for leaving every SeaWing he raised in the worse situation possible. And even attempts to get her attention when the Dragonets are stuck in the guest caves. Too bad Tsunami went off to save her baby sister before he could stop to let her know before entering the Deep Palace. 

He’d be a more active participant in the Talons of Peace as a witness to everything that happened when the Dragonets of Destiny crashed in the SeaWing Queendom. And, even then, he would be difficult to work within the Talons. As he constantly pressed to see his father. Now, knowing his father, realizing how he soils everything he touches, and ruins everyone he raises, Riptide is an enemy to the crown, close to being killed for that very father’s crimes, but he no longer has a reason to stay in the Talons. Besides the fact that the Dragonets seem incapable of entering a queendom without bringing masses of chaos along with it. 

And while he doesn’t become a??? leader of the Talons of Peace, he becomes one of the only Talons that the dragonets trust to speak to. While Tsunami would be, still, frustrated that he lied about being a Talon, it would be recognized that he was attempting to protect the Dragonets and that Tsunami was too caught up in the deconstruction of her fantasy to listen to him in the moment. 

No awkward long-distance relationship where no one knows how the other feels because one of the participants doesn’t have a personality. Maybe Tsunami has a fleeting crush on him because, again, she has a tendency of not being able to distinguish attraction from dedication. But in the end, they’re both a bit too combative and explosive to be around each other for much longer than to discuss quick strategies and plans for peacebuilding. 

I could GO ON. Riptide is such a blank slate with so many influences for his personality and dynamics but... in canon he’s simply “that one guy who undeniably good things (teach Tsunami Aquatic, be her crush?) but still somehow screwed it up (by being in the ToP).”

That’s just a “quick” blurb of my ideas though. I could probably structure this somehow later! But, I really don’t know if he deserves it because otherwise, I have literally no other emotions about him! Thanks for asking! :>

[merakiaes]

At Fault - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: #35 and #11 from the angst-list.

Warnings/notes: Some angst, I guess. I tweaked the prompts a bit, hope that’s okay! This is two requests combined, I wanted to make it longer but I got hit with a massive headache so I had to cut it short, unfortunately. It’s not proof-read so sorry for any mistakes. I hope you like it and thank you for requesting! <3

Wordcount: 3175

Summary: Following a fight with Tommy where you storm out, you get taken. 

Tommy wanted to hit himself for being so stupid, regretting his actions the second he saw your heartbroken expression.

You hadn’t known each other for too long, merely a year or so. But you had clicked instantly, getting along like two peas in a pod with the way your minds and personalities were so alike.

The only problem was, you were too much alike, both of you possessing a hard-headed stubbornness that rarely allowed anyone else to get their way in the end. And you can imagine how that ended whenever the two of you butted heads.

You had gotten along perfectly the first two months, acting like a couple of lovesick teenagers, always fooling around. But the second he brought you in on the family business, you were constantly fighting, barely seeing eye to eye on any plans.

And what riled Tommy up even more was that most of the time, his aunt and brothers took your side, claiming that you were the only one thinking logically out of the two of you.

The fighting became a norm around the Betting Shop, everyone growing used to it, including the two of you. But today it had gone to far. He had gone too far.

He had said such hurtful things to you, it even put him to shame. He could only be happy that it had only been you in there in that moment, as he knew exactly how his family would have reacted if they’d witnessed the heartbroken, betrayed look on your face as you stormed out of there.

He had been frozen in shock for a moment, before realizing you hadn’t even brought your coat. Today was a particularly cold day, the rain having poured down since the crack of dawn, and he instantly grew worried for your well-being, grabbing your coat from where you’d left it on the table and rushed out after you.

But you were nowhere in sight.

He knew he should have seen this as the first warning sign, as you had rushed out only two minutes ago and couldn’t have gone that far already. But still, his mind clouded with guilt, he started walking the path you would always take home, hoping to catch up with you.

However, he walked the entire way back to your house without as much as a glimpse of you and found your house empty.

Growing more worried by the second, he started moving back the way he came, looking around, desperate to catch a glimpse of your hair or the blue dress you had been wearing today. But no sight of you.

It was only when he caught sight of something shimmery on the ground, upon closer inspection noticing what it was, that the warning bells really started ringing, having him running to the Garrison quicker than ever before.

It was your bracelet, the one your mother had given you right before she died. You never took that thing off, and as you were too observant for your own good, he knew that there was no way that you would have just dropped it without noticing.

There was no doubt in his mind that you had been taken.

Most of the Peaky Blinders were at the Garrison when he arrived, drinking, laughing, singing and having fun on one of the rare off-days they were given every once in a while when things were calm.

But when Tommy barged into the pub, the door smacking against the wall behind it so violently it was a wonder it was still attached to the hinges, everyone fell quiet, all eyes turning to him.

Tommy wasted no time, looking around the room, bewildered. “Have anyone in here seen (Y/N) in the past few minutes?!”

When hearing the sound of their brother’s loud voice, Arthur and John instantly came out of the backroom, fear creeping up at them when seeing his panic-stricken face.

“Tommy?” Arthur asked, confused, going towards his younger brother. “What’s goin’ on?”

Tommy marched up to the closest table and pushed all of the glasses to the floor, glass and alcohol spluttering all over the floor. “(Y/N)’s fucking gone, that’s what’s happening!” He yelled, sparing his brother a look before turning back to every other Peaky Blinder in the room.

“I want each and every fucking one of you out and looking for her now. And you don’t fucking come back until you’ve found her, or I swear to you, I will have your fucking heads!”

The Blinders wasted no time in getting to heir feet, grabbing their coats and rushing past him out the door, no one daring to look at him as he went for another table, tipping the entire thing over.

Arthur and John instantly sprung into action and ran to him, holding him back from going after another table, while Finn ran out of there to alert their aunt of what was happening.

“Calm down, Tommy boy!” Arthur yelled, struggling to hold on to his brother’s arm as he trashed around. “You’re not going to find her if you act like this!”

His chest heaved up and down violently, his entire body shaking with a mixture of panic and anger. But still, he stilled himself, knowing the words were true. If he was going to find you, he needed to get his act together.

And he really needed to find you.

                                            ____________________

You didn’t fear much in life. Not much at all, in fact. The only things you truly feared was losing the people you loved, and not being in control.

And you had never felt as powerless as you did now, leaving you in a state of pure panic as you struggled against the ropes tied tightly around your wrists.

The fight with Tommy only an hour before was now gone from your head, the only thing on your mind being the throbbing pain in the back of your head from where you had been hit, and the fear and panic of being tied up.

You didn’t understand what was going on.

Granted, you the reason of your taking was certainly related to Tommy and his Peaky Blinders, but yet, you couldn’t figure out what had brought this on.

You thought things had calmed down. That the dangers were gone from your lives and that you were finally living and dealing with business legitimately.

But no, some goons had jumped you in the alley right outside the Betting Shop, hit you in the head with a baton, dragged you off to wherever the hell you currently were, and tied you up.

That’s what was currently causing you to hyperventilate with panic; the ropes around your wrists and ankles. Not the blade currently pressed to your thigh, nor the man that was up and close in your face, demanding answers to questions you didn’t know.

“I’ll ask you one last time.” He growled in your ear, pressing the tip of the blade against your thigh and successfully breaking the top layer of skin. “Where is Tommy Shelby hiding the money?”

You only glared coldly, leaned in close while panting and struggling against the restraints. “And I’ll tell you one last time, I don’t know about no fucking money.”

And you truly didn’t. You had no idea what the fuck was going on or what the fuck they were talking about. But even if you had, you wouldn’t have given them shit, your loyalty to Tommy and his family too strong to be broken by petty threats and injuries.

But even if you were telling the truth, he obviously didn’t believe you.

He stabbed the knife into your thigh in one swift motion, causing you to yell out in pain, your head falling backwards and tears to prick your eyes. But you refused to cry. That was not how your mother raised you.

“You’re a persistent one, aren’t ya?” He laughed. “I can respect that. I see why those Blinders keep ya around.”

He pressed his thumb into your wound, causing you to yell out again, squeezing your eyes shut tighter and gritting your teeth.

“But I need you to drop that persistence just this once and tell me where the fuck the money is, ya hear me? Or I won’t be asking nicely no more.”

You had to fight the urge to give him some snappy retort back, knowing very well that it wouldn’t do you any good. Instead, you just spit in his face, smirking when he closed his eyes in irritation.

Because that was so much better than talking back. Not.

Before he could do anything else, however, the sound of shooting erupted form outside the door, accompanied by a series of yells, of which you recognized one to be Arthur.

You closed your eyes in relief, your racing heart picking up even more speed, knowing that they’d come for you. That he’d come for you.

But you couldn’t celebrate yet, the man suddenly getting behind you and pressing an ever larger knife into your side as the door was kicked in, a cloud of smoke spilling in from the gunfight that had now gone quiet.

Where he’d gotten the knife, you didn’t know, but you couldn’t think much about that in the moment, as the only thing you could only think about was that he would be able to kill you with just one movement if he wanted to.

Only a second later, Tommy walked inside with his gun raised, John, Arthur and the rest of the Peaky Blinders following his lead.

You instantly locked eyes with Tommy, your breathing ragged and uneven as you felt the blade press into your side. You silently pleaded for him to get you the hell out of there, all while telling him not to do anything rash.

Tommy’s face was filled with rage, his eyes so cold and hard that had looks been able to kill, the man behind you would have been dead long ago.

He had never felt this kind of anger before, and his brothers had never seen him in such a messy state, and certainly not seen him become this protective.

But then again, they understood perfectly, as they were feeling the same, the whole Shelby family having grown to love and care for you in the short amount of time they’d known you.

You may not have been a Peaky Blinder, but you were one of them, always helping out in the Betting Shop and assisting them if they ever needed help with their emotions or families.

Taking you from them was about as bad as if they would have taken one of them, and the mess of dead bodies outside in the warehouse was the result of that poorly thought out mistake, not a single one of them having been spared or showed mercy, despite a few of them actually begging for it.

As Tommy took a step closer to you, eyes hard and flickering between you and the man, the man pressed the knife further into your side, the tip going through the fabric of your dress and pricking your skin, causing your eyes to squeeze shut and a small sound of panic to fall from your lips.

Tommy took note of this and instantly halted. Knowing how much of a difficult situation you were currently in, his heart was beating so loudly that he could hear it in his heart. But the glare on his face only hardened.

“Let. Her. Go.” He spoke slowly, voice holding promise of what would become of him if he even dared lay another hand on you.

You had never heard his voice so low and full of hatred and anger before, the sound of it causing you to shiver. Despite the man’s ill intentions, you found yourself fearing for what Tommy might do to him when he got his hands on him, the look in his face being purely murderous.

Arthur tilted his gun slightly, walking up to his brother’s side. “I’d do as he says if I were you.” He drawled, the thumb of his free hand pointing backwards. “You’re outnumbered and he’s already killed thirty men to get ‘ere. You haven’t got a shot.”

It was clear that the man hadn’t thought this far and that he was, indeed, scared, as his grip on the knife was shaking. But still, he didn’t give up, only glaring and pushing the blade further into your side. “Tell me where the bloody money is, or I’ll fucking kill her!”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to steady your breathing and ignore the pain shooting through your whole leg after being stabbed. You could only hope he hadn’t hit any major arteries. You didn’t want to bleed out.

You opened your eyes again, and it all happened so fast after that.

Finn, who had insisted on coming along as he was now eighteen and an official member of the Peaky Blinders, had fired the first shot, aiming to kill.

But as his hands had been shaking with fear and anger, he missed, giving the man the time he needed to stab the knife hilt-deep into your side before being killed by a bullet to the head, several more following and hitting various parts of his body.

The pain was unbearable, unlike anything you had ever felt before; burning, searing, throbbing, every pain-related adjective you could think of, all together.

But you didn’t scream. You didn’t utter a word. Instead, you could feel your sense of hearing slowly disappearing, being replaced with a deafening ringing noise.

You could see Tommy rushing towards you, his lips moving as if he was yelling out your name, eyes wide in panic. But no sound reached your ears, your mind barely even able to process what you were seeing.

Your head fell slightly, eyes not blinking as Arthur and John worked on the ropes around your wrists and ankles hurriedly, Tommy seeming to yell at them. Most likely to tell them to hurry up, the way he always did when something was going too slow for his liking.

You didn’t come back to reality until you felt a hand pressing down at your stab wound, hard. Only then did your hearing return, the voices of several panicked and loud voices entering your ears, along with Finn’s cries from the doorway.

You lifted your head slightly, feeling how your heart was starting to slow down in your chest and how your body was getting cold. You managed a weak smile to the youngest Shelby, whispering out in a barely audible voice. “S’ alright, Finn.”

You did in no way want him to think it was his fault. He had tried to saved you, and you were grateful for it, despite the way it turned out.

As your head started sinking again, your eyes slowly drooping, Tommy’s hand came in contact with your cheek almost instantly in a not so careful slap. “Stay awake, (Y/N). You’ve got to stay awake for me, alright?”

You nodded, agreeing. “Alright, Tom.” But your eyelids only grew heavier, the slap not having helped at all.

Tommy watched in horror as your eyes fell shut then, instantly taking you into his arms once you were free from the ropes, trying his hardest to stand up with you while at the same time putting pressure on your wound.

But at this point, you could barely even feel the pain anymore. You couldn’t think straight, feeling as if you were drunk and high on opium and Tokyo all together.

As you opened your eyes slightly, you caught sight of Arthur and John rushing beside you, yelling at people around them. Everything was going in slow motion, all voices and noises falling silent to your ears as you looked up, meeting the bright blue eyes you’d fallen in love with.

Thomas. Your Thomas.

“You can’t die on me.” He ordered as he felt your body grow heavier, indicating that you were about to fall asleep. “Please.”

But his desperate pleas weren’t enough to stop the amount of blood you were currently losing, the last thing you saw being Tommy crying out in panic as your eyes finally shut, before everything turned black.

                                              ____________________

Tommy felt numb.

His throat was raw from screaming at his brothers and the nurses that had taken over your body once they reached the hospital, his eyes bloodshot and swollen from the amount of tears he’d shed.

He held your hand in his. Your cold, limp, lifeless hand.

All he could think about was how different things would have been if he hadn’t yelled at you earlier that day. If he’d just gotten off his high horse and admitted that you were right, for once in his life, maybe you wouldn’t be where you were.

You’d probably be at home, curled up in each other’s arms as you slept through the night. Instead, you were there. Lying in the hospital bed limply, and all Tommy could do was watch you and cry, completely powerless.

A hand suddenly came to rest on his shoulder, but he didn’t flinch, barely even acknowledging his aunt as she sat down beside him, his gaze on you not faltering for as much as a second.

“I can’t do anything right, can I?”

He barely even noticed the words tumbling out of his own lips, almost as if his mind was disconnected from the rest of his body.

Polly turned to look at him sadly. “You can’t say that, Tom.” She shook her head, reaching out a hand and grabbing ahold of his, that were still holding onto yours. “What happened is not your fault.”

But he just shook his head. “Yes, it is.” He answered in an emotionless tone, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Just like everything else, this is my fault. My doing. Because I’m too bloody proud to listen to anyone other than myself.”

Polly didn’t say anything else, only turning to look at you with a sad expression. No one in the Shelby family would ever blame him for what happened, or hold it against him in any way, but in a sense, she knew that he was right.

When a leader couldn’t listen to the advice of his partners in business, it was bound to come back and bite him in the ass eventually.

Turning the cheek to logical arguments from other parts and making rash and reckless decisions on your own, and then acting accordingly, would give you plenty of enemies that would, in time, come for you and your loved ones. Polly knew this, Arthur, John and Finn knew this, and he knew this.

He only wished he would have taken everyone’s advice to listen and think more carefully long ago, because maybe then, you wouldn’t have been caught up in the war you had no part in.

Maybe then, you’d still be alive.

But now you were gone, leaving behind a big, empty hole in his and everyone’s hearts. And it was all his fault.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

White Flag

Part 4 of Tides of Fate (I finally decided on a name for this series, guys! lol)

Part 1: Losing Resolve Part 2: Rifts Apart Part 3: Becalmed

Pairing: Edward x MC

Warnings: Language - I (fittingly) have the mouth of a sailor, so of course there’s a lot of cussing in here

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry

“I said no such thing, Miss Bellamy.”

Peyton couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Here he was, still hovering just above her, fingers teasing the skin of her hip just beneath the hem of her blouse, still trying to keep distance between them by using her surname.

“If you don’t know how to send me home, Captain Mortemer” – she took great joy in watching his eyes narrow as she referred to him in a more formal manner – “then how do you propose I shall get there?”

He pushed himself up to his feet and started pacing across the length of his cabin. After watching him make several passes, she finally prodded, “Edward?”

“Damnation! You cannot stay here! I’ll… I’ll leave you in Tiburon if I must!”

The triumph she’d been feeling vanished as she began to realize how difficult he was going to be about her staying aboard the ship with the crew. With him.

“Please. Don’t do this. I…I only need a day to rest, then I’ll be good as new and ready to navigate. I swear, I won’t be a burden to anyone!”

Whirling around to face her, Edward’s eyes were blazing as he seethed, “Tis not about your damned injury!”

“Then let me stay!”

“My reasons for wanting you off this ship have not changed. Tis not safe for you here. It never was. I was being selfish in letting you stay so long.”

“Don’t you get it yet?” Peyton forced herself to her feet, the searing pain somewhat numbed by the fear-fueled adrenaline rush she was currently experiencing. Her only focus was convincing Edward to let her stay, so she steadied her voice as much as possible before imploring, “I want to be here. I am choosing to be here. I know the risks, that life on a pirate ship is dangerous. I know that you are hellbent on bringing the admiral to justice and the inherent risks of such an endeavor! But still, I am choosing this life. I am choosing you!”

“Why?”

Not trusting her own feet to carry her across the room to him, she held out her hands to beckon him closer. For a few seconds, she thought that he was actually going to resist, but then she saw his shoulders slump forward. Everything has to be difficult with him. When he tried to lace his fingers with hers as he came to a stop in front of her, she put his hands on her hips instead, so that she could wrap her own arms around his waist.

“Because I love you,” she finally answered his question. “And I can’t leave you. Not knowing if you were safe, if something had happened to you… I… I couldn’t take that uncertainty.”

“Peyton…”

“No, Edward. I won’t let you tell me, yet again, that you aren’t worth it. You are worth it. You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met. The honor with which you carry yourself, the loyalty to those around you. It’s incredible. You are incredible.”

Edward leaned down so that his forehead was resting against hers, and it was quickly becoming one of her favorite positions to be in. He just seemed so open and unguarded like that and it melted her heart. “Are you sure?”

She could almost feel his resolve melting, but she bit back the smile threating to break across her face. She needed to get him to swear she could stay before she started celebrating. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. And, honestly, it’s not just because of you. This ship is the first place that has ever truly felt like home to me. This crew is more of a family than the one I left back in my time. And I want to fight for them. I want to fight with them.”

He let out a deep sigh that caused the hair around her face to flutter and the corners of her mouth quirked upward. “Fine,” Edward conceded. His tone was almost bitter, but there was a certain shine to his eyes that took most of the bite out of his words. “You can stay. But you’ll not be lifting a finger until you are healed.”

“But –“

“No. Tis non-negotiable.” His hand came up to cup her cheek just before he brushed his lips against hers. “Seeing you in pain is unbearable. I’ll not be able to concentrate if I know you are up at the helm in such a condition.”

Peyton was surprised she was still upright and not a puddle of mush on the floor with his confession. She’d known what a distraction he was to her own concentration, but hadn’t dared to dream that she affected him as deeply. “Fine. I suppose I’ll allow myself to be a slouch if it means my captain will be able to focus on his duties.”

“And this” – he pulled away from her slightly to gesture between the two of them, causing a pit of dread to settle in her stomach – “cannot happen again.”

“Edward –“

“Tis the only way I’ll agree to allow you to stay aboard the Revenge.”

“Dammit, Edward. Didn’t we already get past this bullshit?”

“Miss Bellamy,” he warned as he stepped out of her embrace to start pacing once again.

She didn’t pay any heed. She was tired of running around this same circle with him. “For fucks sake, Edward. You’ve told me you love me. You’ve kissed me senseless. And now you want to go back to pretending like none of it happened? You… Don’t I matter enough to you?”

“Of course, you do! You matter too much!”

“Then don’t you see? This isn’t going to work! I can’t pretend that you are nothing more than my captain. And to be honest, based on our past behavior and the whispers I’ve heard from the rest of the crew when they didn’t realize I was close, they already know that there’s more to our relationship.”

“Who? I’ll –“

Knowing his over-protective mind was already envisioning punishments for the offenders, Peyton cut him off, “No, no you won’t. That isn’t the point. The point is that they already know, or at least suspect, our feelings run deep for each other. And yet they’ve not said a word about it outside of this ship. I can’t speak for you, but I know that I trust this lot with my life. And if I can trust them with that, I should think that I could trust them with this.”

“How can you say that? After everything -" he broke off, his eyes flashing with irritation and what she thought was fear. “You have witnessed a damn mutiny! Have you not learned yet how little trust you can place in pirates?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Edward! Surely you are not equating the crew that is still here with those traitorous assholes! I could sense how terrible they were from the moment I got here!”

Quirking an eyebrow up, he asked, in a tone that was so deathly calm it sent a chill down her spine, “Really? All of them?”

Peyton did her best to school her expression into one of passivity, but felt her eyes widen anyway. Because she knew exactly what he was referring to. She tried desperately to come up with some sort of a response that would wipe away the point he was trying to make, but she was quiet so long that Edward pressed on, “What about Kendrick? Or Samuel.”

“Edward, please. Stop.” Her eyes were blurry from the tears she refused to let fall and her voice came out strangled around the lump clogging her throat.

“I will not. Not until you understand. We cannot risk it. No matter our feelings.” He paused then, taking a deep breath, and when he continued, his whisper was just as strained as hers had been. “No matter how much I love you, we cannot be together.”

“Is it not my life that you’re worried about?”

“Have you not been listening? Of course it is! Tis all that I am concerned with!”

“Then how the fuck do you get off making this decision all on your own? It’s my fucking life, you asshole.”

Edward came to a stop in front of her once again, one hand coming up to cup her cheek while the other settled on her hip just below her bruise. The tender move was at such odds with their discussion that it almost made her dizzy, but it still managed to settle her nerves. His voice had also softened as he murmured, “I know tis your life, Peyton.”

Refusing to be distracted by his tenderness, Peyton kept her voice firm as she asked, “Then shouldn’t I get a say in this?”

“Peyton,” Edward growled as he drove his fingers through his hair. The ferocity of it all was making her a little weak in the knees, but she refused to get distracted just yet.

“Did you mean it? When you said you love me?”

“What? Yes!”

A small grin played at Peyton’s lips at how desperate he’d sounded before she focused herself back on task. “If you love me, then you have to love me as I am. You can’t just put me in a box because you are scared something might happen to me. How do you think I feel? Knowing that the man I love is determined to take on the damned Royal Navy in order to bring one man to justice? It’s a fool’s mission, one that could very well end up fatal for you, yet I have done nothing but support you anyway! Why can’t you do the same for me?”

His eyes pleading with hers, he muttered, “I’m not as strong as you, Peyton.”

Drawing him closer within her arms, she whispered against his neck, “Then let me be strong enough for the both of us.”

A/N #1: As much as I actually loved this, I kind of struggled with it, just because I felt like I was going in the same circles as part 3. Even so, it felt right to me because these two (and especially Edward when concerned for Peyton’s safety) are so damned stubborn. So I guess this is me apologizing if this felt repetitious and/or unnecessary.

A/N #2: This was the end of my original plan for this series. However, this won’t be the end of it in general. I have a few ideas of where I want to go from here, I just don’t know that I’ll have something to post by next week.

Thank you to every one who has been reading this - writing for Edward has been a bit of a challenge (especially trying to get the dialogue right) but I have really enjoyed it. And I really appreciate all the kind words, reblogs and likes you all have given this series.

Tag List: @burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld @mvalentine @rebel-alpaca @crazynutella @princess-geek @edgiestwinter @choices-addict

[404fmdtaejin]

aesthetic & headcanon — public perception

summary: taejin debuted in 2008 as decipher’s leader and lead vocal. 10+ years in the industry, venturing off into his own solo work as well leads his steady fanbase to grow as well as maintain decipher’s fanbase that was there from the start. (an outlook on the growth inside the headcanon). warnings: none, this sounded too ‘braggy’ of taejin, and i swear i wasn’t trying to come off like that — my apologies if it came off like that! wc: 1019

taejin’s coming up on his thirteenth anniversary in the industry, and (i think in famed verse?) it might be the oldest career — could be wrong, please correct me if i’m wrong!

within the thirteen years, there’s a lot that could go wrong in a career. but taejin’s never had a scandal — no speculations either. mainly, that’s his parents doing because any potential scandals that could have risen in the early days of decipher got shut down when his parents paid the big bucks to keep it hush hush

nonetheless, taejin’s grown to have this clean image. it’s like that neighborhood who only does good deeds, and from anyone that draws comparisons? it can be annoying since everything he does seems to touch does well

decipher’s been here for a long time, and one of bc’s oldest groups. not to mention, they haven’t lost any members — all the members from the beginning are present. this leads the thought that perhaps because of the members’ love for each other paired with taejin’s leadership, they’re able to remain a solid force (mainly the former than the latter rationale).

thus, there’s always an aspect of “responsible” when it comes to taejin.

although he hasn’t done that much music — he released one song which he wrote the lyrics of. this song  has a good, warm feeling melody as well as the lyrics that add a sense of comfort — it all adds to his bear persona? that realm of responsible warmth you can always rely on, especially if the only song he released as a ‘present’ to fans became a source of comfort for them. 

(plus, top tier vocals? melting caramel vocals, and who doesn’t love a man that can sing his heart out??)

predominately, taejin’s solo career lies with acting and brand deals. 

with acting — he has somewhat of an array of works. he’s done the weird black comedy (parasite), but lately, he’s been pigeon holed into the genre of romantic comedies (fight my way, crash landing on you, producers). as well as coming of age type style dramas (itaewon class). 

each time, his characters have been loved by the public. they’ve all had somewhat of a weird charm about them? like they’re not the perfect stereotype perfect lead, but has a personality trait that makes them feel more “normal” instead of a stereotype of perfection (ie: they’re awkward, dorky, rough around the edges etc.)

this ties back to his actual visuals? in my head, taejin isn’t the visual of decipher. he’s just all and bulky, lmao. he’s not the cg visuals that allow for people to fawn over, taking his pic to the plastic surgeon to say “make me look like this.” instead, it’s a face that’s just handsome because it’s normal? like he could be your next door neighbor, church oppa, older sister’s friend. 

because of his visual level / good clean image, brands have reached out wanting to use him to market their products

predominately, he shines in just regular day-to-day products anyone can afford. (dominos, kb kard, yogurt, nescafe crema etc.) this is just because his image suits it in a way that it’s a nice boy recommending it, and a boy that’s good enough to be your boyfriend. aka taejin just has a realistic expectation aspect to this personality.

(another tidbit, taejin has a lot of extensions? and that’s mainly because of loyalty / companies want to continue to work with him for profits. aside from good feel, he just continues to sign on because he genuinely likes working with the brand and staff. gets along fine and even manages to buy them all coffees on set, and padding in the winter. it adds to that aspect of politeness that the staff write on natepann about.)

and because of his maturity? he stands out even more. being born in 1990, he’s not considered a ‘kid’ and it’s harder to imagine him as a super active ‘idol’ just because of his age? instead, there’s a sense of maturity and security because the boy dresses in suits for casual clothes and always seems like a ‘grown up’.

he’d be the type mothers want as their son-in-laws, and the kind of boy girls would want to marry. because he doesn’t have the ‘bad boy’ aura, and he seems like the person that would treat you with the utmost respect

in my head, a lot of people choose him as his ‘ideal type’. mainly because he’s just a sensible pick, and by picking him you’re not subjected to the criticisms of: “you only care about looks” or “really.. him? why?” instead, it’s just universally known that he’s just the pick when u want to lay low

as a result, a bunch of his brand deals pertain to him playing the role of a boyfriend “feeding” his co-star or worrying about their health. it’s either that or the sexy maturity that leaves the public to ‘thirst’ over him

his fan base consists of women in their early 20s to late 30s. it’s a big gap but the older fan base comes from his days in decipher (where they debuted young. the noona fans with heart eyes). and the early 20s comes from the girls who have this romanticized vision of love, see taejin acting as the bad-joke lead, and come to love his character

plus, his viral moment? where he reenacted his kiss scenes (with level of distance ofc) got a lot of praise because not only did he seem attainable? he also suddenly acted upon fantasy, which allowed many fluttering hearts

his personality plays into this too because he doesn’t know how to use social media (makes the public think he’s more like his drama characters than he is in real life), he knows how to style himself (insta boyfriend picking out ur photos?), has a high class image in suits (the kind mothers love bc he just looks smart and clean)

all in all taejin is human teddy bear — the kind that comforts you in the hard times, and seems like he’ll always be there.