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sunfyresrider · 2 years ago

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Titanic AU

Synopsis: The year is 1912 and the Titanic is setting sail on its maiden voyage. You were too incredibly broke to buy a ticket but luckily won yourself a ticket in a poker match. Aegon has unluckily lost his trust fund and is being forced to marry a wealthy girl and move to America. Both of you got on the ship for different reasons, both of you came from vastly different backgrounds, neither of you planned on finding love but fate had something else instore for you both.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Reader Warnings: It's literally a Titanic au sooo fluff, smut, sinking ship, love affair (cheating), rich v poor and a whole lotta falling in love. Word Count: 12k Note: HI BABY THIS IS FOR YOU @daddyissuesinwesteros this is my twist on your cruise ship request, I really hope you like it<33 Since i deleted my acc and have to restart I'm going to use a bunch of tags I'm srry. Tags: @its-actually-minicika @aemondwrites @annikin-im-panicin @princesssszzzz @ohitsthemaster

The year was 1912 and a newly finished ship was set to sail from Southampton, England to New York City, United States. RMS Titanic was the largest ship at the time and was considered to be unsinkable. People from all over the world rushed to get a ticket for the maiden voyage. The boat carried some of the wealthiest people in the world, as well as hundreds of emigrants from Ireland, Scandinavia, and elsewhere throughout Europe, who were seeking a new life in the United States.

The first-class accommodation was designed to be the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, with a gymnasium, swimming pool, libraries, high-class restaurants, and opulent cabins. The lower-class accommodations were nowhere near the same, however, were far better than the majority of ships. They were spacious and had several large public rooms and elevators for passengers to enjoy.

It was by all means the most important and eagerly awaited voyage for many years, but nothing is ever as good as it seems.

You had heard of the Titanic sailing to America just last week. It was completely out of your budget as a nurse in training and there was little to no hope you could board. Except, you weren’t ever planning on getting on the ship by paying. You dressed as a newspaper boy and headed down to the tavern outside the shipyard.

One talent that always kept you fed was your ability at gambling and right now they were playing poker for tickets. It was four people in total playing the silly little game that would change your life in ways unknown to you. Two gentlemen spoke nearly no English and your closet companion had been nervously shifting the entire game. “You bet everything you have?” He whispered nervously as he eyed his own cards. You leaned over, “when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.”

Unlike the fellows around the table, you didn’t mind playing dirty. They had no clue what they had gotten themselves into. You switched around some of your cards while they weren’t looking. “Moment of truth… someone’s life is about to change.” One by one everyone sat down with their cards. Olaf had by far the worst pullout of them all. You turned to your friend, “I’m sorry you’re not gonna see your mother for a very long time.” He stood up and began cursing your ear off, “because we’re gonna go to America! Full house boys!”

Your friend stood up and started screaming his head off. Olaf the Russian bastard yanked you by the collar and eyed you up and down, “woman?” The realization sent fear down your spine, you winked and dipped out of his grasp.

“The Titanic leaves in five minutes, boys.” The bartender shouted over at you. “Oh shit!” You grabbed your friend by the collar and went sprinting in the direction of the ship. You shoved your way through the crowds, through the entrance, through the lower deck, and finally to the top of the ship. There were hundreds of people screaming goodbyes at you and you couldn’t help but wave back… even if you were excited to go home.

The crowd to get inside the ship was suffocating by all means. Luckily Aegon’s mother had forced them to all leave extra early. The ship was meant to travel the entire to America and many were beside themselves in excitement. He didn’t care much for the ship or the trip, there were other things on his mind.

Since his father’s company had become so successful his family was able to sit on the upper deck in their own personal rooms. Though his own mother had to pay for his ticket… Aegon wouldn’t think about that situation right now.

His tuxedo was suffocating him, and it was becoming clear his fiancée was exasperated. Of course, who wouldn’t be angry at an arranged marriage where love isn’t involved? The marriage aside, they were being forced into this ship in close quarters assuming they would “bond”. It was about to be an all-around miserable affair for everyone involved.

His mother, Alicent, quickly shuffled them into their surprisingly posh rooms… perhaps it would not be so miserable. As Aegon was unpacking his bags he pulled out a few paintings he had picked up during his time alive. His fiancée peaked over his shoulder and scoffed, “are those by… something Picasso?” She paused for a moment, “you shouldn’t waste your time with them, he’ll amount to nothing.” Aegon was reminded that this journey was about to be absolutely dreadful.

You and your friend finished tossing your things in the below-deck rooms meant for the poor. Two large bunk beds took up most of the space and you learned rather fast you would be sharing with some mildly unsavory characters. No matter, you planned to spend the majority of your time running around the massive ship anyway.

The front of the ship was massive and was built at an angle. You ran around basking in your luck at being able to steal- you mean win tickets. Your feet carried you to the front of the pointed ship and you climbed up the rails, “I’m the king of the world!” You shouted in a gleeful voice. Your friend ran up behind you, “you’re a woman, idiot!” You paused for a moment… “I’m the queen of the world!”

Aegon took his few moments to explore the ship. He wandered around aimlessly observing the people and the view of the sea. It was a rather dull view, nothing but open water for miles on end. At this time his head was also swirling with thoughts that drained his energy.

He was being forced into an unwanted marriage, his father had removed him from the trust fund, he was being sent to America to work and his family all hated him in one way or another. The biggest disappointment in the Targaryen lineage thus far.

In the giant crowds on the deck, he felt completely alone. Everyone around him seemed happy, they filled his ears with laughter and cheers and yet Aegon felt nothing of the sort. This ship was leading him to an unknown future laced with more sorrow. Does he even have reason to live now?

You were sitting on a bench doodling on your sketch pad when you first saw him. He had beautiful blonde hair and a chiseled jawline, he looked to be one of the posh people on board. However, his big blue eyes were laced with only sorrow. He did not smile nor join in the happiness around him. It gave you an idea for a new painting, a lonely soul amid a crowd.

“Don’t even think about it, he’s out of your league.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, “I wasn’t thinkin’ bout nothing.” Your friend took a seat next to you and pursed his lips. “Mhm, that's why you're already trying to draw him?” The audacity of some people, you thought. You slammed your sketchbook closed and sat up. “Ain’t your business!”

You turned your head to get one last glimpse, but he was gone as quickly as he appeared. A little knot formed in your stomach thinking about how he was out of your league. Most rich people are cunts anyway it shouldn’t matter to you… Maybe, you would just admire him from afar.

At dinner, Aegon’s feelings didn’t get any better. As he sat with his mother and fiancée all he could think about was how pointless his life truly was. A few offhand remarks by the women didn't ease his depression either. Why did he always ruin everything he touched? Why couldn’t he ever be enough? Why was he forced to live such a meaningless life?

“Aegon,” his mother called out to him as he stared lifelessly into his soup. “You’re embarrassing me in front of everyone… no wonder your father disowned you.” His fiancée whispered in his ear. He had more than enough encouragement to rid this world of himself and this was the final push.

Aegon excused himself from the table and stormed out of the dining area. His destination was the ship deck so he could throw himself off. Hopefully, he would freeze to death, or a shark would eat him before anyone could rescue him. Tears slowly dripped down his face as he walked outside. The wind cooled his tears enough they burned his skin.

You were out there trying to paint the sky when he returned. Though, he was a complete mess this time around. You watched him climb up the railing and over the other side. The crazy bastard is trying to jump! As a nurse in training, it was your job to act first.

“I wouldn’t jump if I were you, mister!” A gentle voice caught Aegon’s attention from behind. He furrowed his brows and whipped his head around at the sound of his voice. “Stay back! Don't come any closer!” The tear tracks on his cheeks were gleaming in the faint glow from the stern running lights.

“Take my hand. I'll pull you back in.” He immediately snapped back, “No! Stay where you are. I mean it. I'll let go.” you rolled your eyes, “No you won't.” He loosens his grip on the railing, “Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me.”

“You would have done it already. Now come on, take my hand.” Aegon is confused now, he couldn’t see her very well through the tears, so he wiped them with one hand, almost losing his balance. “You're distracting me. Go away.” You approach the railing slowly, “I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you.” Aegon turned around to finally get a glance at you. He was shocked to see how beautiful you were, the moon outlined your silhouette like a guardian Angel. “D-Don't be absurd. You'll be killed.”

You took off your jacket, “I'm a good swimmer.” You move to unlace your shoe and he speaks up, “the fall alone would kill you.” You glanced down, “It would hurt. but to be honest mister I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold.” Aegon looked down. The reality of what he was doing started sinking in. “How cold?” You start taking off your shoe, “it’s the Atlantic so a little above freezing.” You take off your other shoe, “Ever been to Maine?” Aegon was completely perplexed, “No.”

“Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Wells. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-skating out on Lake Wissota... ice-skating where you get on frozen ice–“ He scoffed, “I know what ice skating is!” You raise your hands in defeat, “Sorry. You just... you look kind of like an indoor guy. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold... like that right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think... at least not about anything but the pain.” You slowly take another step forward, “Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But as I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”

“You’re crazy.” He was completely distracted by you, and Aegon forgot about what he originally intended to do. “That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship.”

You slid one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse. “Come on. A pretty boy like you shouldn’t die like this.” Aegon stared at this madwoman for a long time. He looked at your eyes and they somehow suddenly seemed to fill his universe, “Alright.” He unfastened one hand from the rail and reached it around toward you. You reached out to take it, firmly. “I'm Y/N.” Aegon smiled,

“Pleased to meet you, Miss. Y/N.” All seemed well until his foot slipped on the water that was coating the edge. He let out a less-than-manly scream as he almost dragged you over with him. Your grip tightened and you bit your lip while trying to pull him over. Damn, he was fucking heavy.

He kicked his feet against the edge hard enough you could pull him up over the railing once more. The force was a bit much as he landed on top of you. There was a brief moment of silence where you stared up at him. This was a pathetic lunatic for sure but a very beautiful one.

A group of crewmen disrupts your moment of admiration by dragging him off of you and pulling you to your feet. They began yelling at each other as one struggled to pull handcuffs out of his pocket. You tried to explain but they weren’t listening to your pleas. Two women came barreling out onto the deck screeching about what had happened. “Let go of my son, son,” his apparent mother shouted. “What has my fiancé done?”

Ah, it was too good to be true after all. He had a beautiful posh fiancée waiting for him. “We saw him assaulting this woman!” One of the men shouted and Aegon immediately denied it. The woman’s eyes were a mix of confusion and subtle rage. “It was a misunderstanding! I came up here to admire the view and nearly fell to my death before he saved me!” You weren’t exactly sure why you were lying to a stranger, but something told you they didn’t need to know the truth. “It’s true! I was out here for a smoke when I saw her.”

“You heard the girl! My son is no rapist.” The men glanced at you asking for confirmation, and you nodded your head in response. One of them let out a sigh as they uncuffed him. Aegon mouthed a thank you as the crew walked off. “Thank you for defending my fiancée,” she smiled at you. “Of course, Miss.” Aegon seemed to roll his eyes at her own voice.

“Would you like to join us for dinner, dear? As a token of our appreciation?” His mother said in a way that sounded more like a demand than a request. You wouldn’t deny an all-paid-for fancy mean though. “If it would be alright.” Aegon smiled to himself as they bid you goodnight. Your luck seemed to be far from running out.

Aegon woke up early the next day; he prepared his clothes the night before and was sure to wear his best casual attire. He was more than excited to spend time with you before the eminent dinner with his family. That part didn’t excite him, his family was hard to deal with as you will soon find out. Plus, his fiancé would ruin any chance he had with you.

It was wrong of him to think about cheating on her but once again it was a forced arrangement. Perhaps you could be his way out of it or maybe a way to distract him. At this time, you were playing a dull game with your two bunk bates. You kept thinking about him, his pretty face, and his madness all throughout that day… too bad he was to be married.

“Hello Y/N.” Your two friends are absolutely floored by his arrival. It's like Cinderella's slipper fitting Cinderella. “Hello again.” Aegon glanced around, “Could I speak to you in private?” You stood up nervously, “Uh, yes. Of course. After you.” He motioned you ahead. Asgon glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, as he walked out with you leaving a stunned silence.

You both walked side by side onto the deck. You passed people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. You felt completely out of place in your rough clothes. You were both awkward, for different reasons. “So, you got a name by the way?”

He shuffled next to you, “Aegon. Aegon Targaryen.” You snickered, “That's quite a moniker. I may hafta get you to write that down.” There was an awkward pause and you felt like throwing yourself off the ship now.

“Miss. Y/N, I-” you cut him off, “Y/N.” He took a breath, “Y/N... I feel like such an idiot. It took me all morning to get up the nerve to face you.” You smiled, “Well, here you are.”

Aegon began playing with the rings on his fingers, “I... I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for... for pulling me back. But for your discretion.” You patted his shoulder, “No problem at all.”

He turned to you. “Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich boy. What does he know about misery?” Aegon was beyond embarrassed he made such a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl. Normally, he would be more nonchalant, but you had done something to him. “That's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was... what could have happened to hurt this man so much he thought he had no way out.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “I don't... it wasn't just one thing. It was everything. And I was trapped in it, like a dragon in ice.” He started speaking too fast to fully make out, “I just had to get away... and then I was at the back rail and there was no more ship... even the Titanic wasn't big enough. Not enough to get away from them. And before I'd really thought about it, I was over the rail. I was so furious. I'll show them!”

“Uh-huh. They'll be sorry. 'Course you'll be dead.” He lowered his head, “Oh Gods, I am such an utter fool.” You raised a brow, “That chicken last night, is she one of them?” The penguin was his fiancé who was dressed in red feathers. “Chicken? Oh, Y/N/N! She is them.” You cocked your head over to look at him, “So you feel like you're stuck 'cause you're marrying' this chicken.” Aegon finally smiled brightly, “Exactly!” You thought to yourself, there was a pretty obvious solution. “So don't marry him.” He scoffed, “If only it were that simple.”

You hummed, “It is that simple.” He furrowed his brow, “don't judge me until you've seen my world.” You smirked, “Well, I guess I will tonight.” Aegon got mildly flustered once again for reasons unknown. He started looking for another topic, any other topic, and he indicated your sketchbook. “This? It’s just some sketches.” He reached his hand out, “May I?”

The question is rhetorical because he had already grabbed the book. He sat on a deck chair and opened the sketchbook. He noticed each one was a random picture of different people. An old woman’s hands, a parent and their child sleeping on a bench, a couple dancing in the street… It was like the condition of humanity. “These are quite good.”

You smiled, “I just seem to spew 'em out. Besides, they're not worth a damn anyway.” You picked up two loose pages and tossed them. He laughed, “You're deranged!” No

He turned a page and well… He had come upon a series of nudes. He blushed, Aegon was completely transfixed, they felt... almost uncomfortably intimate. It wasn’t like he was one to shy away from the human form just didn’t expect it from… A woman. “Where were these drawn from?” Your smile grew wide, “Paris! Lots of people are willing to take off their clothes to be a part of art.”

His eyes narrowed towards one, “You liked this man. You used him several times.” You giggled, “Nah, he had beautiful hands.” Aegon raised a brow, “I think you had a love affair with him…” You shoved his shoulder, “No, never! Just with his hands.” Aegon looked up from the drawing and into your eyes. They were laced with sincerity and something else… God, he was too handsome to be wasting time with the likes of you. “You have a gift, Y/N. You see people.” You were talented, kind, and beautiful… How did he stumble upon someone like you? “I see you.” There it was your piercing gaze that went right through his universe. “And...?” You smiled, “You wouldn't jump.”

“You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist... living in a garret, poor but free!” You laughed at him, “You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any fancy food.” He faked an angry face, “Listen, missy... I hate fancy food! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams” You patted his head. “I'm sorry.”

“I just hate all of these duties that I have. I feel this way. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or I don't know... a dancer… a nude model… or a moving picture actor!” Aegon grabbed your hand and ran, pulling you along the deck toward-- He pulled you into the midst of filming and began pretending to be a part of it.

You had spent the entire day with him accidentally. Maybe you told him a little too much about yourself, but it didn’t seem to matter. He enjoyed listening to your stories about your travels and your failure in nursing school. Aegon was the opposite of what you imagined a rich person to be. “So, then what, Miss. Adventurer?”

“Well, when housing cost too much, I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. I sketched portraits there for ten cents apiece.” His mouth gaped sarcastically,

“A whole ten cents?!” The sarcasm went right over your head, “it was great money... I could make a dollar a day. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris after a while and see what the real artists were doing.”

Aegon seemed to get lost in his head staring off into the distance. “I wish I could be like you… free from everything.” You turned to him, “We could go there, sometime... to that pier.” He grinned, “we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on rollercoasters until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach... right in the surf.” You laughed, “A woman riding a horse? Do you mean one leg on each side? Scandalous!” He turned to you and the sunset perfectly framed his face. His eyes brightened, “if you’d like.” You grinned, “I think I would.”

A woman by the name of Molly came to your rescue. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate Aegon’s family very much and gladly gave you all the things you needed to show off. Molly lent you a very posh dress for the dinner and taught you a few especially important manners. You didn’t quite remember them all but that would be okay… you think.

You stood awkwardly on the staircase looking for the family you were meant to dine with. A few men approached you and so you decided to practice your manners with them… They snickered under their breath at your daftness. Before you could open your mouth to snap back, Aegon finally arrived at your side. “Miss, y/n.” He picked up your hand and placed a firm kiss on it.

You couldn’t help it; you were sure your face turned ten shades of red. He stuck out his arm urging you to take it… the manners of the rich confused you. “You look very posh.” Aegon leaned into your ear. You forced a smile as you approached his family. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“Mother, y/n/n, I’m sure you remember miss y/n.” They turned with shocked expressions, and his fiancé smiled brightly, “y/n- you could almost pass for a lady.” You nodded at her, “almost.” You wanted to slap that grin off her face as soon as possible.

They strode off into the crowd of people and Aegon pulled you along with them. He tried to list off the names of everyone attending but you couldn’t remember. He even tried to introduce you to someone, but he was obviously suspicious of you. You were nervous but you never faltered. No way would you let these rich folks make a fool of you.

Alicent was the first to speak to you at the dinner table, “What is it like in steerage, I hear they're quite good on this ship.” It was an insult disguised as a question. You smiled politely, “Fantastic ma'am. Hardly any rats.” Aegon motioned for you to take the napkin off your plate. What was with all of these rules?

His fiancé spoke up, Miss. Y/N is joining us from the third class. She was of assistance to my fiancé last night.” She turned to you and spoke as if she was talking to a child. “This is foie gras. It's goose liver.” You dug your nails into your thighs and tried to hide your obvious anger. A soft hand brushed against yours catching your attention away from the sudden whispers about you. Aegon regretted bringing you here already. “How do you take your caviar, Miss?”

His fiancé answered for you, the cunt. “Just a soupcon of lemon… it improves the flavor with champagne.” You nodded, “No caviar for me, thanks… I never did like it much.” You looked at Aegon, proudly, and he smiled back. “And where exactly do you live, Miss. Y/N?” Alicent asked. “Well, right now the Titanic. After that, I’d like to travel to America.”

Salad is served, you reached for the fish fork. Aegon gave you a look and picked up the salad fork, prompting you with his eyes. Damn, why the need for different forks? Alicent spoke again, “You find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?” You ignored her tone and decided to answer honestly.

“My father was always talking about going to see the ocean. He died in the town he was born in and never did see it. See, my folks died in a fire when I was in nursing school, and I've been on the road since. Something like that teaches you to make each day count.” Aegon smiled, “Well said, Y/N.” Alicent, annoyed that you had scored a point against her, pressed further. “How is it you have the means to travel?” You smiled, “I work my way from place to place. I do nursing jobs on the side… actually I won my ticket to get on here.”

Aegon smiled to himself, a very lucky win indeed. The rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly. You kept quiet most of the time trying to not barf at the taste of the food. When dessert was finally over Aegon spoke to you directly for the first time that night.

“Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room.” He whispered slowly, “Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe.” You nearly laughed but were interrupted by his fiancé. “Joining us, Y/N? You don't want to stay out here with the men, do you?”

Actually, you do, but... “No thanks. I'm heading back.” Alicent stood up. “Probably best. It'll be all business and gossip; it won't interest you. Good of you to come.” The women took their leave, and you stood up to go as well. “Must you go so early?” You winked at Aegon, “Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin.”

He leant over to take your hand. Aegon noticed the piece of paper in it and you nod at him to take it. You say a quick goodbye before you scurry off to your usual quarters. Aegon opens the note below the table. "Meet me at the clock".

He smirked to himself then got up to politely excuse himself. You were the complete opposite of any of the women he was forced to be around, and he found himself fancying you more than he should. Aegon should thank his father for disowning him and getting rid of his trust fund because that’s exactly why he was able to meet you.

You were staring at the giant clock in the middle of the staircase. You looked beautiful even from behind. You turned and caught him staring, “Want to go to a real party?”

The below-deck crowd was led and alive with music, laughter, and raucous carrying on. An unknown band was gathered near the upright piano, honking out lively stomping music on fiddle, accordion, and tambourine. People of all ages are dancing, drinking beer and wine, smoking, laughing, and even brawling. Aegon was completely amazed by the scene; he could get used to it.

Your friend handed Aegon a pint of stout and she chugs it. You patiently waited for him to finish his newfound alcoholism and dance with you. When you get impatient you grab him by the collar and drag him into the middle of the floor. “I don’t know the steps!” You giggled, “just follow me!” The music started and you were off. He was a little awkward at first, but eventually, he’s the one leading you.

Aegon has the brightest smile plastered across his face as he spins you around the crowd. He stares at you with flushed cheeks, and your sweat glistens perfectly on your skin. You truly were an angel sent for him and only him.

“Come to Josephine in my flying machine. And it's up she goes! Up she goes! In the air, she goes. Where? There she goes!” You both drunkenly stumble over the words and break down laughing. You’ve walked Aegon all the way back to first-class before anyone can notice his absence. Though he doesn’t leave right away and instead leans onto the rail.

“They're such meaningless people... my crowd. They think they're gods on earth, but they're not even dust in the universe’s gaze. They live inside this little, tiny glass bubble... and someday the bubble's going to burst.” You leaned on the rail next to him, your hands barely touched his, but it was enough to fluster you both. It is the slightest contact imaginable, and yet it’s the only thing either of you could feel.

“You're not one of them. There's been a mistake.” Aegon looked at you confused, “A mistake?” You smiled, “Uh huh. You got switched at birth or something.” Aegon laughed at you, “I did huh?” You stood there in silence until you spotted a long streak of light in the sky, “Look! A shooting star.” He smiled, “Aren't we supposed to wish on it?”

Aegon glanced at you and realized that you were suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss you. Your eyes told him he could if only he took one more step. "What would you wish for?” You stepped back and forced a smile, “Something I can't have. Goodnight, Aegon. And thank you.” You took off in a hurry, any more time spent in the same vicinity as him would mean you making a grave mistake. No falling for an engaged man, no falling for someone in a different class than you.

“Y/N,” Aegon moves to follow you, but his attention is caught by people piling out of the first-class entrance. What did he do wrong?

His mother had berated him the entire night for what he had done. He was caught dancing with you and for some reason, that was the end of the world for her. Aegon was tired of constantly being forced to do his parents' bidding. The only reason he was engaged to this girl was that she had money and he didn’t. Once Alicent was finished scolding him he took off towards the deck.

The ring

The damned ring he was going to give her with the blue diamond in the middle. He could chuck it into the ocean right now and not care anymore. That wouldn’t do, it was too expensive for such a faith. So, he locked it in a safe and decided to forget about it completely. He was done being a pawn for those around him.

Aegon couldn’t handle rejection, nor could he handle being away from you for this long. He had no idea what had gone wrong, but he was desperate to fix it. He snuck below deck the next day where you were playing a game of poker with your friends.

The sound of a knock on the door caught the group's attention. Who the hell knocks down here? You opened the door and your mouth gaped. “Can I talk to you...,” he peered over your shoulders, “…alone.” You turned to your group of friends, and they looked just as shocked as you. “Prince Charming came back,” Tommy snickered. “Go on, Cinderella,” Bjorn yelled at you.

You let out a sigh, “fine.” Aegon smiled and you walked into the hallway with him. Before you could get a word out, he grabbed you by the shoulders. “You're no picnic… you know that? You’re a broke, low-class girl with no manners but under that, you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known and–“ You were completely caught off guard, “Aeg- I-”

He cut you off, “No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amazing... and I know I don’t have much to offer you anymore. I know that, but I'm involved now. I jump, you jump, remember?” You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. Aegon was always so open even though you barely knew each other... not like anyone you had ever known but he was also a rich boy with a fiancé, it wasn’t possible to be with him. “You're making this very hard.”

“They have me in a glass jar like some butterfly, and I’m going to die if I don't break out. Maybe not right away, 'cause I’m spiteful. But sooner or later the fire is going to go out and… and I need you with me.” Your lip pouted, “only you can save yourself. I’m just me.” He smiled, “You're wrong. You are everything to me. Just please think about it, Y/N.”

He pulled you forward and placed a quick kiss on your forehead before taking off. You were left completely dumbfounded and your thoughts swirling around your brain.

Aegon was standing at the place where you first met. He was letting the wind hit his face and calm his mind while he impatiently waited for you to come to him or forgive him or anything really. He was getting exceedingly desperate for anything from you.

“Hey, Egg,” He whipped his head around and a big smile blessed his face. “I changed my mind.” Aegon smiled at you, his eyes drinking you in entirely. Your cheeks were flushed by the cold wind, and your eyes sparkled more than the sapphire. “I asked around and they said you might be up–” He grabbed your hand before you could finish speaking. “Shh. Come here.” Aegon wrapped his hands around your waist. It looked as if he was going to kiss you.

“Close your eyes.” You were too flustered at first by the sudden contact but after a deep breath, you willingly shut your eyes. Aegon moved your hips, so you were facing forward, and he pressed you gently to the rail. It was getting too intimate, and you could feel your skin turning several shades of red.

Aegon took your arms and raised them until you were standing with your arms outstretched. When he lowered his hands, your arms stayed up... like wings. “Okay. Open them.” You let out a small gasp. There was nothing in your field of vision but open water. It's like there is no ship under you both at all, just the two of them flying. You could only hear the wind and the hiss of the water 50 feet below.

You giggled, “I'm flying!” You leaned forward, arching your back. Aegon put his hands on your waist to steady you. He started singing the tune from the other night softly, “come Josephine in my flying machine…” You smiled dreamily, then leaned back, gently pressing your back against his chest. Slowly he raised his hands, and they met yours... fingertips gently touching. Then he intertwined his fingers with yours.

Aegon leaned his head forward into your hair, letting the scent of you wash over him until his cheek was against your ear.

You turned your head and noticed his lips are near yours. You lowered your arms and your eyes fluttered shut until his lips met yours. As Aegon wrapped his arms around your hips you completely surrendered to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. You kiss slowly and nervously, and then with passion.

Aegon snuck you into his room which was filled with beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery. You say your sketchbook and drawing materials are on the marble table. It was far too fancy for you; you couldn’t help but feel out of place here. “Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?” You faked a French accent, “ Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'horrible conditions,'' you turned and saw his collection of paintings, “Hey... Monet!”

Aegon smiled, “Isn't he great... the use of color? I saw him once... through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny.” You watched him fiddle with a lock on a box, CLUNK! He unlocked the safe. He glanced up and smiled at you and tossed you a ring, “What is it? A sapphire?” He shook his head, “A diamond. A very rare diamond called the Heart of the Ocean.” You gazed at the wealth beyond your comprehension. “Why- why are you giving this to me?”

“Draw me like one of your French boys and it’s all yours.” Your mouth visibly dropped at the realization. Of course, you would happily oblige.

You carefully laid out your pencils like surgical tools. “The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want.” Aegon took off his robe revealing himself and you assumed you looked completely shocked.

“Tell me when it looks right to you.” He pulled a blanket over his… parts. Aegon tried to mimic the guy from your drawing as best he could. “Uh... just bend your left leg a little and... and lower your head. Eyes to me…. Uh yeah.”

His abs were perfectly defined, and his skin was a gorgeous milky white. He looked like one of those famous Greek statues in a museum. You started to sketch but your nervous hands made you drop the pencil. He stifled a laugh, “I believe you are blushing, Ms. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monet blushing.” You were obviously sweating, “He does landscapes.”

Despite your nervousness, you drew with sure strokes, and what emerged is the best thing you had ever done. His pose is languid, his hands beautiful, and his eyes radiate energy. It helped that Aegon was the perfect customer, he barely moved an inch and kept his eyes on you the whole time.

“Date it, Y/N. I want to always remember this night.” He leaned over your shoulder in his robe and peered at the drawing. Once again, you do everything he says because you are too flustered to do otherwise. He meanwhile scribbled a note on a piece of the Titanic stationary. He gladly accepted the drawing from you and shoved it in the safe in the wardrobe.

Once he got fully dressed you felt like you could breathe again. There was a noise, almost like a key being placed in a lock. Aegon grabbed your hand and ripped you up and yanked you through the bedroom.

He led you quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. You were halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opened in the corridor and his mother came out. The valet sees you and runs after you.

“Come on,” Aegon shouted in a whisper. You break into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Aegon led you past the stairs to the bank of elevators. You run into one, shocking the hell out of the people inside.

“Take us down. Quickly, quickly!” Aegon motions to the operator. He even helped him close the steel gate. The valet ran up as the lift started to descend. He slammed one hand on the bars of the gate. Aegon flipped him off with a large grin causing the operator to gasp.

They escape to the boiler room filled with fans. You both leaned against a wall and began laughing. “Pretty tough for a valet, this fella,” you grinned. “He's an ex-Pinkerton. Y/N/N’s father hired him to keep her out of trouble... to make sure she always got back to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after crawling through the less reputable parts of town.” Aegon smiled. “Kinda like we're doin' right now-- uh oh!”

The valet popped up out of nowhere and charged toward you. Aegon took your hand once more and dashed into a blind alley. There was only one door, marked CREW ONLY, and Aegon flung it open. You entered a roaring fan room, with no way out but a ladder going down. Aegon latched the deadbolt on the door, and the valet slammed against it a moment later. Aegon grinned at you, pointing to the ladder. “After you, m'lady.”

You came down the ladder and realized this place looked like hell itself, shadowy figures moving in the smoky glow. You ran the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal. Aegon shouted over the noise, “Carry on! Don't mind us!”

You rush through the open door into BOILER ROOM SIX. Aegon pulled you through the hot alley between two boilers and you wound up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew.

Aegon stops you and kisses your face, tasting the sweat trickling down from your forehead. You raised your chin up to him and pressed your lips roughly against his; you kiss passionately in the steamy, pounding darkness.

After you both gained some self-control, you ran into a new storage room. This time you stumble upon a brand-new touring car. You climbed into the upholstered back seat, acting very royal. Aegon jumped into the driver's seat, “Where to, Miss?” you grinned, “To the stars.”

You climbed into the back seat and reached your hands out to pull him over the seat into the back. He landed next to you, and his breath seemed loud in the quiet darkness. Aegon gazed at you and saw you smiling… It was the moment of truth. “Are you nervous?” You nervously smiled, “Au contraire, mon cher.”

Aegon gently stroked your face, cherishing every feature. “Touch me,” you whispered. He slid himself on top of you and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips.

Your heart raced as he kissed down your neck. You moaned softly, feeling the heady rush of excitement fill your body with desire. The lustful longing for this man consumed you, there was no turning back now. As his lips neared your breast, you pulled him closer and felt his soft hands caress your skin.

His mouth engulfed one nipple and began to suck it. Your moans were muffled by his hot breath and tender kisses. His hands groped your hips and tugged them up so that he could take your other breast between his teeth. His fingers curled around the hem of your gown and slowly rolled it up above your waist.

You gasped when his hand cupped your cunt through the thin fabric of your undergarments. He moved quickly to free you from them. Aegon slid his hand down to swirl around your throbbing clit. You let out small whimpers as he moved his fingers,

Aegon moved his lips back up to yours as his fingers dipped lower, so they rubbed outside your entrance. You arched your body towards him and sank your nails into his back. A low moan escaped his throat as he pushed two fingers inside you. You bucked your hips into his touch and closed your eyes. Aegon's fingers moved faster and slipped deeper inside you. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it rhythmically.

He suddenly stopped moving and leaned in close to whisper, "I love you." You trembled at his words. They made the fire within you burn brighter than before. You looked up at him and nodded, " I love you too."

His fingers began to move again, swirling and teasing. You cried out in pleasure as he plunged his fingers deep inside of you. Aegon's lips returned to yours as he kissed you passionately. His fingers thrust inside of you harder and faster until you came undone. Your legs quivered and shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

You kept your lips connected to his as you moved your hands to undo his belt. “Are you sure,” he whispered into your mouth. You nodded furiously causing him to smile. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers and slid them off his hips.

Aegon lifted your ass up and placed your thighs on either side of his waist. He ran his cock along your soaking cunt, preparing to slide inside. The tip of his manhood nudged against your slick opening. You took a deep breath as you waited for him to push forward. When he finally slid inside you, you let out a sharp cry.

You felt the heat of his thick cock spread inside of you. His length stretches you tightly and fills you completely. He lowered his head onto your shoulder, so your cheeks were touching. As he thrust in and out of you, he placed gentle kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Aegon," you whimpered. The sound of your voice drove him wild. He pumped his hips faster while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Gods, you were so beautiful underneath him. He loved the way you shuddered and shook because of him.

The car was filled with the sounds of your breathing and their skin slapping together. You raised a hand and hit the glass window leaving a mark on the condensation. You moved your hips with him, grinding yourself against him.

You moaned loudly as he bit down on your shoulder. He held your hips up with one hand while the other was squeezing your tits and doing circles around your nipple. Your cunt clenched around his shaft and squeezed each time he moved.

Aegon started to softly moan as he thrust inside you. They sounded absolutely heavenly in your ears; better than any orchestra you’ve heard. "I'm going to cum," he whimpered. You tightened your grip around his neck and pulled him down into another searing kiss. You tilted your pelvis up to meet his thrusts.

"Cum inside me," you begged. He slammed his hips against your thighs, and his cock exploded inside of you. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as he lost control. When he stopped pumping his seed into you, a warmth flowed throughout your entire body.

Aegon covered you both with his overcoat. You’re both huddled under it, intertwined, still mostly clothed. Your faces were flushed, and you looked at each other wonderingly. You rested a hand on his face as if making sure he was real, “You're trembling.” Aegon smiled.

“It's okay. I'm alright.” He moved to lay his cheek against your chest, “I can feel your heart beating.” You held his head to your chest and just held on for dear life.

After you cleaned up, both of you headed up to the ship deck. The entire time his eyes barely left you. “When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you.” You laughed, “This is crazy.” He nodded, “I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it.” He pulled you back to him and kissed you fiercely.

The boat suddenly hit an iceberg causing it to bounce backward. Both of you slid back and into the nearby wall. You gave each other a worried glance and took off toward the front. You both leaned over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship. Behind you, a couple of steerage guys were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing. “Looks okay. I don't see anything.” He furrowed his brows, “Could it have damaged the ship?” You were practically pushing yourself in fear right now. “It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay.”

You were so tragically wrong; you both took off in opposite directions to go warn your own friends and family. That’s when the chaos erupted, and the alarms began to blare. Aegon had to drag his mother and fiancé out of their rooms in mere pajamas all the way to the deck. It became painstakingly obvious there weren't enough lifeboats for everyone and oh… upper-class women go first and you… you wouldn’t even make it onto a life raft!

“Goodbye mother,” he yelled as he took off towards the lower deck. His fiancé grabbed him from behind, “Where are you going? To give up your life? For her? Is that it? For your whore? For that gutter rat?” Aegon ripped his arm out of her grasp, “I'd rather be her whore than your husband.”

The lifeboats began to lower, and, in the distance, he could hear his mother and ex-fiancé screaming hysterically. The boat began to sway, and he struggled to keep his balance and was rushing to go find you.

Meanwhile, you had just been handcuffed to a goddamn pipe. There was something about you stealing a coat that wasn’t exactly wrong but why now of all god-forsaken times. The valet apparently snitched to his mother who then snitched to the captain who then sent a policeman after you. This was before they knew of the dire situation, of course, now you were all but forgotten in the chaos.

The pipe wouldn’t budge, and you could hear gurgling sounds of water starting to flow. You pulled harder and began to cry out, “Help!! Somebody!! Can anybody hear me?!” The water poured under the door and rapidly spread throughout the room. You worked against the cuffs until your skin was raw, this was no good. “Y/N? Y/NNNNNN??”

You were hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until you turned red. You collapsed back on the bench. realizing you’re screwed. Then you heard him through the door.

Aegon was running aimlessly through the lower deck until he ran into your frantic friend, Tommy. Thank God Tommy cared the least bit to tell him that you had been fucking arrested. He rushed to the master at the arms room which held you captive. Aegon desperately called out your name as he tracked through the water. “AEGON!! In here!”

He spun on his heels and ran back, locating the right door, then pushed it open, creating a small wave. He splashed over you and put his arms around you. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” You both were so happy to see each other it was embarrassing. “Don’t worry about it now! See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little brass one.“ He kissed your face and hugged you again, then started to go through the desk.

“So… you don’t care I got arrested?” He turned to look at you, “don’t worry about it now!” He mocked your words from earlier.

You force a smile then he went back to ransacking the room, searching drawers and cupboards. You saw movement out the porthole and looked out. Another lifeboat has just landed in the water… too few lifeboats.

“There's no key in here.” You look around at the water, now almost two feet deep. You have pulled your feet up onto the bench. “You have to go for help.” Aegon nodded, “I'll be right back.”

You watched him splash through the water and started to realize this might be the last time you see him. This might be the last time you breathe air. Oh fuck, you have the worst luck in the world.

Aegon splashed down the hall to a stairwell going up to the next deck. He climbed the stairs and moved his way through the empty corridors. “Hello? Somebody?!” He turned a corner and ran along another corridor in a daze. The hall sloped down into water which shimmered, reflecting the light. The margin of the water creeps toward him. A young man appeared, running through the water, sending up geysers of spray. “Help me! We need help!” He doesn't look back; it was like a bad dream. The lights flickered and went out, leaving utter darkness. A beat. Then they come back on. He finds herself hyperventilating. That one moment of blackness was the most terrifying of his life.

He turned around and saw a glass case with a fire-axe in it. He breaks the glass with a battered suitcase which was lying discarded nearby, and seized the axe, running back the way he came.

When he reached the stairwell, he looked down and gasped. The water had flooded the bottom five steps. He went down and had to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where you were trapped. Aegon plunged into the water, which was up to his waist... and powered forward, holding the axe above his head in two hands. You have climbed up on the bench, and we’re hugging the waterpipe. The water was beyond fucking freezing, and you lost hope anyone was coming… Until Aeg waded in, holding the axe above his head. “Will this work?”

“Fuck yes!” You were both terrified but were trying to keep panic at bay. You pulled your hands back, so the short chain was exposed… No time for any practice swings. You winced, bracing yourself as he raised the axe. “You can do it, baby. Hit it as hard as you can, I trust you.” Your voice cracked and you closed your eyes tightly. The axe came down, K-WHANG! When Aegon opened his eyes, he saw you grinning with two separate cuffs.

“Nice work, there, Paul Bunyan.” You hopped off the bench and swam towards him. The water taking all the air out of your lungs, “Shit! Excuse my French. Ow ow ow, that is cold! Come on, let's go.”

“Fabrizio! Tommy!” Your friends turned to see you two approaching and ran to embrace you, “The boats are all going.” You glanced around, “We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling saltwater.” Tommy had his hands on the bars of the steel gate which blocked the head of the stairwell. The crew opened the gate a foot or so and a few women are squeezing through. “Women only. No men. No men!!”

But some terrified men, not understanding English, tried to rush through the gap, forcing the gate open. The crewmen and stewards pushed them back, shoving and punching them. “Get back! Get back you lot!” They struggled to get the gate closed again, while Steward #2 brandished a small revolver, another held a fire axe. They locked the gate, and a cry went up among the crowd, who surged forward, pounding against the steel and shouting in several languages.

“For the love of God, man, there are children down here! Let us up, so we can have a chance!” But the crewmen were scared now. They let the situation get out of hand, and now they have a mob. Tommy gave up and pushed his way back through the crowd, going down the stairs. “It's hopeless that way.”

You squeezed Aegon’s hand for comfort, “Well, whatever we're goin' to do, we better do it fast.” You decided to start sprinting in the other direction.

You, Aegon, Fabrizio and Tommy were lost, searching for a way out. You all came upon a narrow stairwell and went to go up two decks before you were stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men are yelling at a scared steward. “Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted out there.”

Aegon took one look at this scene and finally just lost it. “God damn it to Hell son of a bitch!!” He grabbed one end of a bench that was bolted to the floor on the landing. He started pulling on it, and Tommy and Fabrizio pitched in until the bolts sheared, and it broke free. You figured out what they were doing and cleared a path up the stairs between the waiting people.

“Move aside! Quickly, move aside!” Aegon and Tommy ran up the steps with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all their strength. It ripped loose from its track and fell outward, narrowly missing the steward. The crowd surged through.

You all bursted out onto the boat deck from the crew stairs just aft of the third funnel. “The boats are gone!” Aegon noticed Colonel Gracie chugging forward along the deck, escorting two first class ladies. “Colonel! Are there any boats left?”

“Yes, sir... there are still a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I'll lead you!” Aegon grabbed your hand, and they sprinted past him, with Tommy and Fabrizio close behind. The band from the other night was still playing music accepting their own demise. “Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in First Class.”

You quickly took notice of only women boarding. You looked back at your two friends, “You better check out the other side.” They ran and took off to the other side. “I'm not going without you.” Aegon pushed you forward, “Get in the boat, Y/N.” One of the crewmen began yelling, “Quickly, ladies. Step into the boat. Hurry, please!” He patted your head, “Go on. I'll get the next one.” You cried out, “No. Not without you!” Aegon smiled reassuringly, “I'll be alright. Hurry up so I can get going... I have my own boat to catch.”

The crewman grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the boat. You reached out for Aegon and your fingers brushed for a moment. Then you found yourself stepping down into the boat. Aegon knew he was screwed. He looked down at you, not wanting to waste a second of his last view of you.

All you could hear was the blood pounding in your ear. All you could feel was the tears rushing down your face. Damn it all to hell.

You lunged across the woman next to you. You grabbed the gunwale and began climbing it... You successfully hurl yourself out of the boat and onto the rail of the deck. “No Y/N! NOOOO!!” Aegon spun from the rail, running for the nearest way down to A-Deck.

You met at the bottom of the stairs and collided in an embrace. “Y/N, Y/N, you're so stupid, you're such an idiot–” He spoke as he kissed you repeatedly. “You jump, I jump, right?” He grinned sadly, “Right.”

You sprinted your way through the boat once more trying to reach the top deck. The corridor is awash, about a foot deep. A torrent of water came pouring down the stairs like rapids. It was far too powerful for you to go against. “Come on!” As you approached the giant double doors at the other end of the hall you saw water spraying through the gap between the doors right up to the ceiling. “Back! Go back!!”

Aegon turned and ran back the way you came, taking a turn into a cross-corridor. The double doors break open sounding a thunderous explosion of water. You tried to run as a wave blasted around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling.

You barely made it to the large staircase leading up. The lights short out and the landing is plunged into darkness. It is by the grace of God that the gate that blocked your path gave and swung open. You were pushed through by the force of the water.

The room was empty except for Andrews, the captain. Behind him you and Aegon rushed into the room, out of breath and soaked. You ran through, toward the aft revolving door... then Aegon recognized him. He noticed that his lifebelt was off, lying on a table.

“Won't you even make a try for it, Mr. Andrews?” A single tear ran down his cheek, “I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Aegon.”

You leaned over and whispered, “It's going fast... we've got to keep moving.” Andrews picked up his lifebelt and handed it to him. “Good luck to you, Aegon.” He smiled, “And to you, Mr. Andrews.” You forcefully pulled him away and through the revolving door.

You ran out of the palm court into a dense crowd. Aegon pushed his way to the rail and looked at the state of the ship. The bridge is under water and there is chaos on deck. Aegon helped you put your lifebelt on. “Okay... we keep moving aft. We have to stay on the ship as long as possible.”

Aegon and you clambered over the A-Deck aft rail. Then, using all his strength, he lowered you toward the deck below, holding on with one hand. You dangled, then fell. Aegon jumped down behind you. You joined a crowd of people literally clawing and scrambling over each other to get down the narrow stairs to the well deck... the only way aft.

Realizing it’s pointless you both do the same move once more. Lowering each other to the deck below. A zombified man spoke, “Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death–“ Aegon growled, “You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?”

Aegon and you struggled aft as the angle increased. Hundreds of passengers, clinging to every fixed object on deck, huddled on their knees around a priest who had his voice raised in prayer. They were praying, sobbing, or just staring at nothing, their minds blank with dread. “Come on, you. We can't expect God to do all the work for us.”

You struggled on, shoving through the praying masses. Aegon and you made it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. You both gripped the rail, jammed in between other people. It is the spot where you pulled him back onto the ship, just two nights... and a century... ago. “...and I saw new heavens and a new earth. The former heavens and the former earth had passed away and the sea was no longer.”

The lights flickered, threatening to go out. You gripped Aegon as the stern raised into a night sky ablaze with stars. “I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them, and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them.”

You stared at the faces of the doomed. “He shall wipe every tear from their eyes. And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away.”

The stern of the ship fell back toward the water. On the deck everyone screamed as they felt themselves plummeting. Aegon and you struggled to hold onto the stern rail. Aegon looked at you and shook his head, grimly.

The stern went up and up, past 45 degrees, then past sixty. People started to fall, sliding and tumbling. They skidded down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something.

“We have to move!” Aegon climbed over the stern rail and reached back for you. “Come on! I've got you!” Aegon pulled you over the rail. It is the same place you pulled him over the rail two nights earlier, going the other direction. The stern was now straight up in the air... a rumbling black monolith standing against the stars. It hangs there like that for a long grace note, its buoyancy stable.

Aegon and you laid side by side on what was the vertical face of the hull, gripping the railing, which is now horizontal. The final relentless plunge began as the stern section flooded. Looking down a hundred feet to the water, you dropped like an elevator. Aegon began talking fast, “Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don't let go of my hand. We're gonna make it. Trust me.” You stared at the water coming up at you and gripped his hand harder. “I trust you.

Chaos exploded in the water of screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people were now floating where the ship went down. Some were stunned, gasping for breath. Others are crying, praying, moaning, shouting... screaming.

Aegon and you surfaced among them. “Swim, you! SWIM!” You tried to swim as fast as you could until you broke out of the crowd of people. He had to find some kind of flotation, anything to get you out of the freezing water. “Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come one, you can do it.” All around you there is a tremendous wailing, screaming and moaning... a chorus of tormented souls. And beyond that... nothing but black water stretching to the horizon. The sense of isolation and hopelessness is overwhelming.

Aegon stroked rhythmically, the effort keeping him from freezing. “Look for something floating. Some debris... wood... anything.” You mumbled, “It's so cold.” He frantically looked around, “I know. I know. Help me, here. Look around.”

You scanned the water, panting, barely able to draw a breath. You turned and... A devil is right in front of you face. It is the black French bulldog, swimming right at her like a sea monster, its coal eyes bugging. It moves past her, like it is headed for Newfoundland. Beyond it you saw something in the water. “What's that?”

Aegon saw what you were pointing to, and you made for it together. It was a piece of wooden debris, intricately carved. He pushed you up first then he slithered onto it belly down. Your breaths filled your ears as you glanced around at the scene around you. Both of you had to stay perfectly still or else the thing would plunge into the water.

You both float amid a chorus of damned. Aegon noticed the ship's officer nearby, He was blowing his whistle furiously, knowing the sound would carry over the water for miles. “The boats will come back for us, you. Hold on just a little longer. They had to row away for the suction and now they'll be coming back.” You nodded, his words helping you. You were shivering uncontrollably and had turned a shade of blue. “Thank God for you, Aegon.”

“It's getting quiet.” Aegon weakly raises his head, “Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get the boats organized…” You didn’t believe him, half of the people around you were already dead. “I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all this.”

He laughed weakly, but it sounded like a gasp of fear. “I love you, Aegon.” He took your hand. “No... don't say your good-byes, you. Don't you give up. Don't do it.” You felt your eyes beginning to close, “I'm so cold.”

“You're going to get out of this... you're going to go on and you're going to make babies and watch them grow and you're going to die an old lady, warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Do you understand me?” You found the slightest bit of energy, “Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me.” You sniffle, “It brought me to you. And I'm thankful, Aegon. I'm thankful.”

His voice trembled, “Do you still have that damned ring?” You hadn’t taken it out of your pocket, but you doubted it was still there. You slowly moved your head to the side and patted your ass. The fancy piece of shit was still with you. “I do.” He forced a smile, “You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... so that when we get out of here… you’ll let me marry you with that ring.” Your eyes clouded with tears, “I promise.”

“Never let go.” He gripped your hand and you laid with your heads together. “I promise. I will never let go, Aegon. I'll never let go.”

"Come Josephine in my flying machine..." You touched his shoulder with your free hand. He doesn't respond. you gently turned his face toward her. His breath was causing the air to run white… He wasn’t dead yet.

Your eyes slowly began to close again… but then you heard the sound of a whistle. You raised your head suddenly, cracking the ice as you ripped her hair off the wood. You tried to call out, but your voice is so weak they don't hear you. The boat is invisible now, the torch light impossibly far away. “I won’t let go. I promise.” You kiss his face which was still not completely frozen.

you rolled off the floating staircase and plunged into the icy water. You swam to Chief Officer Wilde's body and grabbed his whistle. You started to blow the whistle with all your might.

You were still blowing when a man took it from your mouth as they hauled you into the boat. “Over there. Aegon Targ- Targaryen.” You purposely used his last name hoping they would recognize him. With your last bit of strength, you pointed at your little raft and slipped into unconsciousness.

Jaehaera was shocked when she got a call requesting her parents to come and “confirm” the belongings they found on the wrecked ship. It had been so many years… She couldn’t believe they were even able to discover it at all.

She would have invited you and her father but you both passed recently, at the ripe age of 83. Aegon swore up and down he would never let go and he kept that promise, literally. He literally died in the same hospital bed as you, leaving Jaehaera, Jaehaerys, and Maelor on their own. You both were selfish assholes, but she couldn’t help but accept the invite.

The three were absolutely fucking shocked to find a nude painting of their father along with some old notes. “Darling now you can keep us both locked in your safe -- Aegon.” None of them understood what that meant but decided to not question it. Jaehaera nervously played with the diamond engagement ring you had gifted her before you died. God, it probably cost a million dollars and you so easily gave it to her.

She had to sit down and try to calm herself. You both were successful in your own right; you led adventurous lives and forced the three children to travel with you once they were born. You introduced them to so many different arts, music, and cultures. You were good parents… too good to be gone. She began crying into her hands as she searched through the belongings…

Jaehaerys sat down next to her and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. “Who would have guessed our parents had a love affair like the movies.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon fic #aegon fluff #aegon smut #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii fic #aegon ii fanfic #hotd fic #hotd au #house of the dragon

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seoul-bros · 2 years ago

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Decision to Leave - the RM connection

I saw Decision to Leave (2022) on the plane coming home on Friday. It's written and directed by Park Chan-Wook who also made the SK film classics Old Boy and The Handmaiden.

Watching the trailer again I can see real parallels with the style of The Handmaiden which was a film that stayed with me long after the credits rolled.

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I found this review and I think it hits upon all the main themes and says many of the things I would have wanted to say about the film but in a more elegant and eloquent way.

It's clear that Decision to Leave also means something special to RM. In a recent interview with Park Chan Wook he said this in response a question on South Korea as a brand.

In September 2022, Namjoon posted the following quotes from the movie.

11/09/22 RM's Instagram Story (Trans cr: Aditi @ bts-trans)

1. Hae-jun (Keeping his eyes on the binoculars, pushing the massager away with one hand) For some, sorrow comes crashing in waves. For others, it spreads gradually, like ink in water.

2. Seorae's 'aha' expression. (She hands over the umbrella and ties his unravelled shoelace) Hae-jun: I always try my best to look straight at people. If you look at the corpses we find at sites, about half of them have their eyes open.

3. Hae-jun: You said I was classy, didn't you? Do you know where that class comes from? It's pride. I was a policeman with pride. But in my madness over a woman, I screwed up the investigation. I......am completely shattered.

The shattered scene is devastating and central to the whole movie.

Namjoon also posted the following mountain climbing clip where he uses some of the dialogue from the film.

25/09/22 RM's Instagram Story (Trans cr: Aditi @ bts-trans)

So it was not surprising that he should choose to pay tribute to one of his favourite films through music. This week he released an alternate version of Closer with clips from the film. I think this MV would be quite confusing to anyone who didn't understand the whole context but it does show that Namjoon is a lover of film noir and its take on love (obsessive and tragic).

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"Decision to Leave X RM 'Closer' (with Paul Blanco, Mahalia) Collabo M/V, Made a little lofi arrangement to better match the mood of the film!, It's an honor to do this for the movie I love."

And while we are talking about soundtrack music the song Mist by Jung Hoon Hee is repeated at various points in the film and really adds to the ambience of the film and its exploration of the femme fatale trope.

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Post Date: 26/02/2023

#decision to leave #park chan wook #tang wei #park hae il #rm #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts #bangtan #namjoon a classic romantic #RM a very intelligent man #closer alt MV #mist #jung hoon hee #the handmaiden

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victusinveritas · 2 years ago

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From the Foundation for Coast Guard History:

"We pause to remember...

15 May 1934, Sinking of the Nantucket Lightship -- During the night of 14 May 1934 RMS Olympic, sister-ship to the lost Titanic, was homing in on the lightship's radio beacon. Nearly 75 times larger than the 630-ton lightship, the White Star liner was steaming at about 20 knots in the center of the western terminus of the trans-Atlantic shipping lanes. By 5:00 am on the morning of 15 May, Olympic was in thick fog that necessitated the reduction of its speed to 16 knots, then 12 knots.

The lightship's radio signal and fog signals were picked up by Olympic at about 10:55 am and appeared to be off the ship's starboard bow. Captain John Binks ordered Olympic's course to be changed ten degrees to port and her speed to be reduced to 10 knots. Her radio operator attempted unsuccessfully to make contact with LV-117 to determine her exact position, but the fog signals could still be heard, apparently at a longer distance off the starboard bow. It appeared that Olympic was well clear of the lightship, but a few minutes later the lookout spotted LV-117 dead ahead. Binks ordered the ship's rudder to be set full to port, the engines to be set full speed astern, and the watertight doors to be closed throughout the vessel. Olympic slowed to only about 3 knots but it was too late and she collided with the side of the lightship at 11:06 am. at 40°37′2″N 69°37′6″W. Although she was not moving fast, her sheer weight (52,000 tons when fully fuelled), and thus her kinetic energy, completely wrecked the smaller vessel.

Olympic's passengers barely noticed the collision, which First Class passenger Sir Arthur Steel-Maitland registered only as a "slight jar". The changed settings of the engines were much more noticeable, sending vibrations throughout the ship as they were put into reverse and brought up to maximum revolutions. Passengers came onto the deck to find out what was going on and were met by the smell of oil and the sight of debris in the sea around Olympic.

For those aboard LV-117, the collision was felt much more directly. "We saw the Olympic loom out of the fog a short distance away," stated C.E. Mosher, LV-117's first mate, in a newspaper interview two months after the accident. "The visibility was only 500 feet. A crash was inevitable. I sounded the collision alarm. We all donned life preservers. Then we waited." When the collision came, said Mosher, "it was more like a hard push and a terrific shaking, a crunching and grinding. It was not a loud smash as one might expect. The Olympic kept coming through ..." John Perry told the press, "At the time of the smash I was in the radio cabin. I barely had time to get on deck and swim for my life." Robert Laurent commented that as "it all happened so quickly, you had no chance to panic. We all had our life preservers and it was a good thing that we did."

Olympic responded extremely rapidly to the accident. The portside emergency lifeboat had already been swung outboard and was lowered just before Olympic came to a halt. The starboard emergency boat was launched a few minutes later, along with one of Olympic's motor boats.

The scene was described by The New York Times:

"Nosing through the dense pall of the fog, the boats searched the area for almost two hours, while those on board the liner prayed for their success. A hatch drifted past, bearing the figure of an unconscious man. Shouts from the liner directed one of the lifeboats to the rescue. The same boat picked up a swimmer not far away, and the floating body of a man who appeared to be dead went past.

The lifeboats disappeared from sight in the murk and the watchers from the liner waited breathlessly. A red buoy bearing the name 'Nantucket' floated by, informing most of the passengers for the first time what they had struck.

After three-quarters-of-an-hour the starboard lifeboat came into view. As those who eagerly lined the rails saw that it contained only one figure aside from those at the oars, and that [figure was] motionless, they groaned.

But a minute later the port boat appeared with five or six men in the blue 'monkey suits' of the Lighthouse Service. Two of those also appeared to be lifeless. One man in civilian clothes, Captain Braithwaite, sat stiff and upright ... a cut on his head bled profusely ..."

The three boats managed to rescue seven of the lightship's eleven crewmen and brought them aboard, but three of the seven died in Olympic's hospital. Captain Braithwaite, First Mate C.E. Mosher, Radio Operator John Perry and Oiler Laurent Robert all survived the disaster. Engineer William Perry, Oiler Justin Richmond, Cook Alfred Montero, First Cook I. Pinna, Seaman E.B. George, Seaman John Fortes and Seaman John Rodriques did not survive the sinking.

The lightship had sunk so quickly that anyone below decks had little chance of surviving.

Binks ordered Olympic to resume course for New York at 12:29 pm once it had become clear that there were no more survivors. The liner had suffered only minimal damage in the collision, comprising some dented hull plates which were repaired in a dry dock in Southampton in May–June 1934. She was allowed to leave New York at the scheduled time on 17 May after a brief inspection. The dependents of those killed in the accident were given restitution through the United States Employees's Compensation Act.

Image: Painting "Lightship Nantucket Collision Sunk by RMS Olympic" by artist Charles J. Mazoujian (Courtesy of US Coast Guard.)"

#coast guard #Nantucket #there once was a man from Nantucket #who was hit by the RMS Olympic #1930s #shipwrecks

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mitchychaos · 4 years ago

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If She was an Angel, He was a Demon (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Suna Rintarou x reader (University AU)

Word Count: 1423

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

[A/N: This is the first chapter of this fic! I’m currently unsure of how many chapters it will have, but if I come to a decision I will be sure to let all of you know! If you have any recommendations on how to improve the writing, what you liked, what you would like to see, feel free to shoot me a message!]

Chapter 1

Y/N spent most of her time in the library studying thoroughly for her classes, making sure she would be able to pass them. Like was mentioned earlier, her classes and her future were her biggest priority. She didn’t care much for the parties, the games, and Greek life.

Her roommate, however, had gotten deeply invested into all those things. RM/N had already found herself starting relationships, ending relationships, going to parties, games, and anything else that came up.

Y/N had approximately two people she talked to frequently: her roommate, and a boy she met at the library, Kita. Kita was a quiet boy, and he frequently sat beside her in the library. She liked Kita; he was a nice guy. A bit stoic, but nevertheless a friend to her. They spoke about classes, clubs, and things of the like while studying beside each other. She knew he was on the school’s volleyball team, and a year older than herself; but other than that, not much about anything in his personal life.

“Are you alright Y/N, you look a bit out of it,” Kita spoke up, glancing at her as he did. She glanced up and lifted her head out of her hand.

“Oh yeah, I just got a bit distracted is all.”

“You probably need sleep. You look tired.”

She did need sleep. Kita didn’t know, but after Y/N stopped studying at the library with him, she would return to her dorm to continue. Typically, by the time she got back to her dorm her roommate would be out of it. She could study in peace and allow herself to truly focus there.

“I can drive you home. I know it’s a long walk from here to the dorms.” Kita spoke up again at the lack of her response.

“Oh- I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that. That would just be me being lazy,” as she responded she waved her hands in front of her face.

“No, its fine. Let’s go.”

The two of them walked out of the library and towards Kita’s car after gathering their things up. Y/N yawned and covered her mouth with her arm, before turning her head in the direction of someone calling Kita’s name. She was surprised to see three boys walking in their direction, one of them being that jackass that hit on her in the laundry room.

“Kita! We didn’t know you would be on campus today!” the blonde called out, waving his arm above his head.

“I’m on campus every day. I was at the library.”

“Oh right. Studying,” the blonde responded before setting his eyes on Y/N, “Hi, are you friends with Kita? I’m Atsumu.”

“Nice to meet you Atsumu, I’m Y/N.”

“Behind me is my twin Osamu, and our friend Suna. We’re Kita’s teammates,” he added, waving his hand behind him gesturing at each boy respectively.

Y/N could tell that Atsumu and Osamu were twins. That much was obvious; the only difference in between them was their hair color. She gave Osamu a small smile and a wave, then gave Suna a quick nod before looking back at Kita and Atsumu. She didn’t want to make it seem like she knew who Suna was. She doubted he remembered her, considering their conversation happened in the first week of school.

“Kita if you want to talk to your friends, I’m really fine just walking back to my dorm,” Y/N spoke up again. Not only did she not want to be around Suna anymore than she had to, but she also didn’t want to be a hassle for him.

“No, it’s alright I will see them later anyway.”

Kita didn’t really give his teammates a goodbye, just turned around and started walking to his car once again. None of the three boys seemed offended but Y/N thought it was a bit cold. She followed him, waving after the three boys as she did so.

She was comforted by his quietness though; it was nice to be able to just think about what had happened. Talking about it was not an option that she wanted to do. It also meant that he hadn’t noticed that she had already known Suna prior to today.

Kita dropped her off at her building, and she thanked him for his kindness before walking inside. She took the elevator up to her room, unlocked her door, and went inside. A small sigh of relief left her mouth and she flopped down on her bed. Maybe she was more tired than she realized. She was about to close her eyes when she heard the door unlock and her roommate walk into the room excitedly.

“Y/N! You have to come with me to this party tonight! It’s going to be so much fun, the volleyball team is throwing it and there is this cute guy- “

“RM/N… I told you that I don’t do parties, I have so much to do. And besides I’m exhausted.” Y/N rolled onto her side to look at the other girl, who was currently taking her hair out of the bun it was in.

“Oh, come on! It’s just one party, and you never go to them with me. Why don’t you just try this one and if you don’t like it when we get there we can leave.”

Y/N sighed, before rolling onto her back once again. She supposed that it couldn’t kill her to go out to a party tonight. She liked parties in high school, but again high school was a lot easier than university. However, it was also Friday, she didn’t have any classes tomorrow, or assignments that needed to be turned in. She could just let loose for the night and have a good time.

“Is it going to be a big party?” Y/N asked sitting up and stretching. She didn’t want to see Suna. He gave her an uncomfortable vibe, but if it was a big party, she doubted she would even see him.

“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty big. I don’t really know.”

“Alright I’ll go.” Y/N got up from her bed, feeling a bit more awake and excited now that she had something to look forward to tonight. Both of the girls started getting ready together, fixing their makeup, and helping each other choose outfits to wear. Y/N felt pretty good about her outfit, it had been a while since she had gotten dressed up to go out. It was a nice change.

Y/N and RM/N drank a little before they left. Not enough for either of them to be too intoxicated, but just enough to have a buzz before entering the party with a bunch of people. It was just the status quo. No one wants to enter a party completely sober; it was just a lot to take in that way.

The house that they went to was already packed once they walked inside. Music was blasting from a speaker somewhere, and the lights were off. The only things that were illuminating the room we small colored lights that moved around the room, never staying in the same place. It was loud, but exciting.

The two girls moved towards the middle of the room, each getting handed a drink on the way from a dark-haired boy. Y/N opened hers, taking a sip while moving her hips to the music once they had found a free spot. Y/N was having a good time, just singing along to the music, and laughing with her friend.

“Y/N there’s the guy! The one I was talking about!” RM/N yelled over the music, pointing at Atsumu, the boy that she had met earlier that day.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Y/N also yelled over the music while nodding.

“Yeah you’re right!”

Y/N watched as her roommate walked over to the blonde starting up a conversation with him. They both looked like they were having a good time. Which was enough indication for Y/N that she didn’t have to keep her eyes on them to make sure nothing happened.

“You’re the last person I expected to show up to one of these doll,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, hot breath fanning over her shoulder and back, causing the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She flushed red, and glanced at the person over her shoulder.

#suna x y/n #suna rintarō #suna smau #fanfiction #fanfic #multichapter #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader

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siimjaeyun · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1: Beast from Below

Synopsis: When five teens set their hearts on mystery solving, maybe they'll just uncover something that's a lot bigger than fake masks.

Series Masterlist

‐----------------------------------

"Another mystery solved!" Five palms met at the center before the metal bars behind them clasped shut; once more did they find themselves enclosed at the city jail.

"Time and time again. Must I remind you kids about not interfering with city affairs."

The man pinched his nose bridge before giving them a piercing look through the cage. They expected nothing less from Chief Kim: always bossing them around like toddlers and painting them as fools.

"Just fantastic. Can't wait for another pep talk from my father." Heeseung fell to the ground dramatically as he looked at his four friends. This occurrence of the city jail never fazed them, and at this point, neither did the fear of being punished by his father.

A couple minutes elapsed before Chief Kim made his way back to the five teens in the cell. With one movement, the door bolted open, allowing them to go home at once.

"Wow. Only an hour wait. New record." Sunoo mischievously smiled and hung his shoulder over Jungwon, his shorter companion.

"Beats that time we spent the night." Sunghoon only scoffed at the duo, no longer amazed by the words that came out of their mouths.

"Heeseung! Y/n! Hurry up won't you!" You and heeseung strutted through the doors of the city building. You knew heeseung would be faced with utter disappointment from his father, head of the city, but you knew he could care less at this point.

"Park y/n!" You hated the voice trailing in front of you. Your eyes slowly made their way to meet your brothers, a teen boy who's purpose in life was to delight others and be the puppet of any tiger parent.

"Go away Jay." You shoved him in the opposite direction and tried to make your way into the van. Frankly, he was the last person you wanted to see.

"Mom and dad asked me to pick you up. Jungwon and Sunoo as well." He eyed the youngsters goofing off in the background, and when they met his gaze, they walked off the van.

"Catch you guys later okay?" Sunghoon and Heeseung drove off in the mini-van, leaving the four in silence.

You said nothing and sat in the back seat of the old Honda. The smell of pine was obvious, and the stack of prep books in the back seat didn't faze you either.

Jay dropped off Sunoo and Jungwon at their home, and later made his way back to your own.

"It wouldn't hurt to stay out of trouble y'know." He finally broke the silence and looked at you through the car mirror.

"I could care less about what you think. Plus, city jail visits from mysteries beat being my parent's trophy any day."

-------

"You should've seen our parents look. I think they don't bother with grounding us anymore." Jungwon continued to chat about the lack of punishment he and Sunoo received.

"Mine don't mind at this point. They told me to might as well study forensics if I'm into silly mysteries." Sunghoon laughed a bit and scanned the tension of the van.

"Better than whatever my father, the head of the city, had to say. He just laughed and insisted I be a role model." Heeseung added to the conversation as he drove the kids in the van. Being designated driver had its perks and its downs.

"I think I win considering Jay fucking perfect Park had to try to give me the 'stay out of trouble' peptalk." You crossed your arms and entertained yourself with the surrounding buildings. Trees, children running, a giant monster coming out the sewer.

"Heeseung!!" Abruptly, a pile of fog escaped from the sewer, blinding Heeseung who tried his best to stop the van from crashing.

"Looks like a mystery has arrived." Once Heeseung was safely able to stop the car, the rest of you left the van as well.

Small droplets of water dancing were heard from the ground below. The five of you climbed down the ladder, stepping with caution of course.

You trailed off with Sunghoon and let the bright light of your flashlights illuminate the cave.

"Why are we in a cave?" Confusion struck your minds, there was supposed to be a river of sewage water. Why you had stepped foot on a cave tricked your minds.

The teens continued to explore the cave, sharp rocks and pools of water were at your feet. As the light continued to roam the black and gray walls of the cave, a golden object shined from afar.

"Sunghoon, look." You picked up the object and your hands met with a locket. The locket opened and revealed a photograph of a young couple, probably of your same age. Before you could ponder more about the couple, a terrified shriek left Sunoo's mouth.

"What's wrong!??" Heeseung followed Sunoo's fingers and he came face to face with petrified bodies.

Three workers were frozen in a pile of green goop.

-----

"So?" Jungwon asked the officer with signs of intriguement, but he was not interested in the young one's questions.

"Dad." You turned and saw Mr.Lee make his way to Heeseung, grasping his shoulders once he had arrived.

"Do us a favor and go to school." He left almost immediately, and you were scared about what would happen next.

Turns out that 'next event' meant running away with one of the green creatures.

When you had arrived at school, Sunghoon and Heeseung plopped the green creature onto the table of Professor Kang, the science teacher.

"You think you can help?"

Professor Kang placed the stethoscope around his neck and began inspecting the creature.

"Well, it's alive; I'll tell you that." He continued to pace around the table, hesitant in informing the group about the odd human in front of them.

"Hey, sorry to bother you Professor Kang, but um...I was hoping to submit my form." A boy stood awkwardly by the door with a thin piece of paper in his hand. His black hair covered most of his forehead, and the only visible part was his shy smile.

"Come in, you weren't interrupting anything. In the meantime, I suggest you go off with this thing." Professor Kang turned his way to address the newcomer in the room; the boy responded and followed him to his desk.

"Quickly, quickly, I've got a class to teach!" Professor Kang left the room once attending to the stranger's needs.

"You heard the man, lift with your legs." You giggled slightly as you saw Sunoo hesitate at touching the green slime.

"You guys need help?" The voice behind you observed quietly, and almost gasped slightly when seeing what exactly you were trying to carry.

"It's fine, but thanks." Heeseung threw the body over his shoulders and made his way out the door.

"You're Jake right?" Sunghoon immediately began a conversation with the young boy, and didn't see his friends waiting by the door.

"Wanna come?"

The three of you wanted to kill Sunghoon for inviting a stranger to these sort of things, but it was merely too late and the unknown boy looked too nice to shoo away.

"Sure, beats sitting through Professor Min's lecture."

Jake trailed behind the trio as he chatted with Sunghoon. Heeseung through the van spotted the newcomer, and was slightly confused considering no one had ever tagged alonged.

"We've got a monster to catch, hurry and get in the van!" You opened the door with force and welcomed Jake into the back.

"This is Jake by the way, he's joining us for today." Sunoo introduced Heeseung to Jake, letting his mouth ramble on about the few details he had already learned.

"Where to captain?"

"RM's studio of course." The rhythm of the music played quietly in the background, and they all found comfort in having Jake around, they didn't expect themselves to be given their history.

"So you guys travel in a van solving mysteries?"

"Pretty much. We get thrown in the city jail occasionally." Jungwon mentioned the detail nonchalantly and expected Jake's natural surprise.

------

It was late that night when the group gave back the body to Professor Kang.

The teacher's steps were audible as he trailed back and forth between one table to the next. He became startled at the sudden noise of the janitor mopping in the hallway. He peered outward and went back to his work.

Before long, and with an audible gasp, his body was now entrapped and enclosed in the similar green goop on the ceiling.

------

"It's all my fault!" Heeseung banged his head on the table and looked at his friends with a sad expression.

"Don't say that. After all, besides Jake, we all helped steal the body from the authorities." Sunoo patted his back gently and observed Jake who placed a container of green smush on the table.

"I managed to collect a sample, maybe it'll help us."

Jungwon and Sunoo were drawn to the fruity smell, and hunger couldn't stop them from nearing the sample of the monster.

"Don't eat that!!!" Before they could stop him, Jungwon and Sunoo had already placed the oozing substance into their mouths.

"This is lime sorbet.."

"It's Ricky's Rickwracks." Confused, but curious, the other teens dipped their index finger into the mush and tasted it as well.

"You're right...I think we just got our next clue." Sunghoon smirked at the rest of his friends and grabbed the keys from Heeseung's left pocket.

------

[RICKY'S RICKWRACK]

"Since Jake, Sunoo and Jungwon are the shortest, they get to shimmy through the air ducts and open the back door."

"How come y/n isn't coming? We're the same height!"

"Because I refused." You gave him a bright smile and helped the three unbolt the door.

The trio crawled their way through the ducts and yelled loudly when they hit the ground after their sudden fall.

"We didn't mean to crush your body on the first day Jake."

They opened the door and let the three bodies waiting outside came in. The restaurant was dark, slightly humid, and oddly quiet.

"Scream if you see anything." Sunghoon and Jake led you through the left corridor and the others headed right.

There wasn't much to see, but when you had turned your back to face the door, it closed shut. Your six fists banged on the door continuously, but you figured it was useless.

"Y/n! Sunghoon! Jake!" Heeseung's voice echoed behind the door, and he managed to pry it open.

"My hero!" You happily hugged him and it didn't surprise him; apart from your hard exterior, you often liked skinship with others.

"SUNGHOON HYUNG!" the four of you ran back to see Jungwon pointing at a figure, and behold, it was the monster from below.

His bright green and sticky appearance startled you, but his roar bounced louder causing your feet to quickly flee.

Jake had become frozen; it was his first encounter of course. You took hold of his hand and ran off with him.

Constant twists and turns led you through one hall and the next. The six of you managed to head back to the closet that once trapped you.

"I-i think it's g--ahh!" You fell backwards and pushed a box aside by mistake. It was no mistake however.

It was a hole and hidden for a good reason. You jumped first and met eyes with a familiar cave.

The carts and marked arrows in the ground were a good reminder that it was no mistake.

"Follow the arrows."

Sunghoon led the way and you found containers of the same green substance from the monster. It startled you at first, but why had there been this in the first place ?

"Wouldn't this path lead to the bank?"

"By why would he need a path?"

"I'm assuming there's another type of dessert old Ricky likes to indulge in."

"Take those items, let's build ourselves a trap.."

-----

They handled the ropes and buckets in every step.

Sunoo and Jungwon handled leading the creature into the cave, running in terror like always; they were the bait.

"Now!" The trap was set off, a toss here, a toss there, and the cage landed everywhere but on top of the monster.

It continued to chase them, and they soon found themselves trapped inside the cage. Well, everyone but you and Jake.

The two of you continued to run and eventually your two pairs of feet met a dead end.

"I'll help you up."

Jake mounted you on his back and hoisted you enough to get a hold of the floor from Ricky's Rickwracks. With enough strength, you pulled yourself up and stretched your hand towards Jake to pull him up. The two of you continued to play a game with the monster on your trail.

In the meantime, the four boys played with the bolts of the cage until it managed to come loose. They went back to you and Jake and grabbed the hose of the lime sherbet.

At the right time, the creature was pushed towards the wall by the force of the blasting sherbet. His body was now too cocooned like his previous victims.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Chief Kim walked into the store through the front door alongside Heeseung's father, Mayor Lee.

"Well we caught the monster from below of course! Ricky couldn't fool me." But unknowingly, Ricky walked through the door.

"I called the police when my alarm went off."

"Then who?" Jungwon did the honors of pulling off the mask revealing the human within.

"Professor Kang!"

"That's right. When I discovered the cave while looking for samples for science class, I knew I had found my ticket out of this place! I used Ricky's sorbet to cocoon people who came too close and used the costume to scare people off. I even did it to myself to throw you people off. I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids!"

"But Mr.Kang, what about this locket?" You held the pendant to an eyes view but his answer let you know it didn't belong to him.

"I say we celebrate at RM's Studio !"

------

The soft music let you guys know of another job well done. A loud ring broke through the silence and Sunoo went ahead to answer it.

"Welcome to RM's studio mix, what can we do for you?"

"You're all doomed!" The seven of you, including RM, closed around the recorder.

"You should've never taken the locket out of the cave, but now you've done it. You've found a truth that has been hidden...a true mystery behind Seoul City has begun."

And just like that, the room went silent.

#enhypen #kpop #jake #jay #heeseung #sunoo #sunghoon #niki #jungwon #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake imagines #heeseung imagines

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 4

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,910

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <3rd person> graphic description of a panic attack, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <none>

...

Where would he have gone? In the backyard? No, there's too much space out there, and it's too bright. Maybe- of course! Patton raced down the hall to the bathroom door, which was shut. He nearly started knocking, but remembering how easily startled Virgil could get when he was having an attack, he decided to just calmly say into the closed door;

"Virgil, it's Patton. Can I come in?" His voice came out very buttery and smooth, calm as he could get it to be. he heard a muffled sob from inside, and his heart went to his throat. But he knew he had to stay calm, for Virgil's sake.

As slowly, gently, and quietly as possible, he opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark, the only light coming from a small hazy window near the ceiling above the shower. He could barely make out Virgil's figure; he was curled into a ball on his side, crying into his knees, lying in the bathtub. From what Patton could see, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead implied he had been sweating, and the sleeves of his sweater were wet and crumpled, like he'd been chewing on them.

Patton slowly walked over, trying not to upset Virgil more. He slowly and gently clambered into the Bathtub, and sat cross-legged with Virgil in front of him. Remember everything you read about. Pressure is good, it gives a sense of security on an instinctual level. Don't take his hoodie off of him. He slowly reached down and lightly touched Virgil on the shoulder. When he didn't react, Patton gently scooped him up and held him in his lap, securing his arms around Virgil's shaking form as he cradled him. Although Virgil was taller than Patton, Patton had a sturdier build compared to Virgil's thinness. He started rocking Virgil very slowly, and did the first thing that came to mind.

"Virgil, it will be okay. I'm here. I'm going to breathe, okay? Try and feel me breathing, and when you can, try and copy it." Once again, his voice was soft and caring, nearly a whisper. Patton began breathing slowly and steadily, in, and out. in, and out. After what seemed like a long while, Virgil had stopped shaking, and Patton could tell he was trying to copy his breathing. It took him a few tries - his diaphragm kept spasming and making him sob more - but the tears had mostly stopped.

Soon, Virgil was breathing along with Patton - still a bit shakily, but they were definitely getting somewhere. Once Virgil's attack passed, he felt exhausted. He relaxed more into Patton, almost falling asleep.

"Virgil, I know you're tired, but we can't sleep here. Want me to call your parents so they can come pick you up?" Patton said, leaning down to try and come eye to eye with Virgil, who seemed content laying there, his head on Patton's left collar bone.

"Mmmm," Virgil started, rubbing his eyes. "No, that's alright. I'm supposed to take the bus today anyway."

"But-"

"Shhh, it's okay. I'll stay here for a while longer, and then get going, so I'll have time to get my bearings." Virgil stood, getting out of the bathtub, and then helping Patton up and out. As soon as he was out, Virgil pulled Patton into a hug - not a hard one, but a heartfelt gentle one. The best kind. "Thank you so much. I don't know how I would've made it through that one without you. Are you alright?" Virgil pulled away at the last part, holding Patton's shoulders and looking into his eyes. Patton had never seen this side of Virgil, so excessively caring. "I know you've never had to deal with me, or anyone, having an attack, but for the record, I think you handled it amazingly." Virgil continued, pulling Patton back into the hug.

Patton hugged back then, burying his face in Virgil's shoulder. "I'm just glad you're okay."

They stayed like that for a while, just happy in their moment.

...

When Patton and Virgil returned to Roman's room, Logan was just leaving.

"Hey, Lo! Are you out of here?" Patton said, still cheery as ever.

"Hello, Patton. Yes, my parents have arrived. I must be going now. I will see you tomorrow in class. Goodbye, Roman, Virgil," Logan nodded to them all, and then stepped past the newcomers to exit. Just then, Patton's phone buzzed, and a text came through that Virgil and Roman remained oblivious to; Patton scarcely read it, but knew that if it was from his brother, he'd best be getting home.

"Uh, w-wait up Lo! I'm headed out too!" Patton said, hurriedly grabbing his pastel blue backpack and rushing out, quietly saying goodbye to Virgil.

Patton caught up with Logan at the end of the hallway, a few feet before the door.

"Hello Patton. Are your parents here too?" Logan said, opening the door and holding it open for his curly-haired companion.

"Uh, no, but I'd best be getting home. I take the bus. My parents... don't have a car. They, uh, they care for environmental safety and stuff." Patton said, trying not to make his lie too obvious.

"Oh, I see." Logan's hand went to his chin, as if he was considering something. "Well, if you wish, I can ask my parents if they'll give you a ride home. I know the bus can be uncomfortable."

"Oh! umm..." Patton really wanted to say yes, but he knew that if his brother saw him come in from someone else's car, he'd be furious. "I'd love to, really, but I can't. Thank you so much anyways though! I'll see you tomorrow." Patton said, a toothy smile appearing as he waved to Logan. Then, before Logan could press further, Patton skipped quickly down Roman's driveway, down the sidewalk, and out of sight.

Logan just shrugged it off, and got in his parent's car.

...

Virgil and Roman were fixed in an awkward silence. Virgil was slouching against the wall near Roman's door, and Roman was laying back on his bed.

"Where were you?" Roman asked eventually.

"In the bathroom. I'd been holding it for a while, if you must know." Virgil lied, trying to keep Roman from asking again.

"Yuck! TMI, Surly Temple!" Roman said, throwing one of his pillows in Virgil's general direction, unsuccessful in hitting him; the pillow landed at Virgil's feet.

"Man, for a jock, your aim is shit," Virgil said, chucking the pillow back and hitting Roman square in the face.

"Ugh!" Roman exclaimed, shoving the pillow off him. Virgil walked over and plopped onto the bed, being sure to avoid eye contact. "Well hello there, my Chemically Imbalanced Romance," Roman teased, leaning closer to Virgil.

He just scoffed at him for the hundredth time that day, and threw the pillow at his face again. "Yeah, in your dreams, Prince Underarms-Stink."

Roman didn't react that time; he simply put the pillow back and watched as Virgil yawned and stretched out his arms. He turned away before the pink glaze on his cheeks could be spotted by Virgil. He pulled out his phone and plugged in his earbuds, putting one in his ear and offering the other to Virgil.

Virgil thought about protesting, but he was too tired to really care that much. he just sighed. "Oh, why the hell not." He took the earbud and put it in his ear, laying back and snuggling into Roman's pillows.

Roman clicked shuffle on his Taylor Swift playlist, and immediately regretted sharing an earbud. of all the songs to play!

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles

Same old tired, lonely place

Walls of insincerity

Shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face

All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you

Virgil felt a blush rise to his cheeks as the song continued, shifting his gaze even further from Roman.

Your eyes whispered "Have we met?"

Across the room, your silhouette starts to make it's way to me

The playful conversation starts

Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

And it was enchanting to meet you

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you

Roman watched Virgil, both of their cheeks darkening. Eventually, Roman looked away, not wanting to be creepy.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

The lingering question kept me up

Two a.m., who do you love?

I wonder till I'm wide awake

Virgil risked a glance at Roman, who seemed to be tracing his ceiling fan with his eyes. He probably isn't even effected by this, Virgil thought. Wait a minute, why am I even effected? Virgil looked away again, trying to stifle his feelings.

Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say,

Hey i t was, enchanting to meet you

All I know is I was, enchanted to meet you...

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew...

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you.

When Virgil looked back at Roman again, Roman was looking at him. Roman immediately looked away, praying Virgil didn't see. But he knew he did, that for that split second that their eyes met. Virgil could see the blush on Roman's cheeks now. When Virgil didn't look away, Roman looked back.

This is me praying that this was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

Roman looked away first. I can't be doing this, I literally just asked someone else out. This is stupid.

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

Virgil had looked down as well, but glanced back, seeing Roman mouthing the words slightly. Virgil only blushed harder and covered his face with his hands, wondering how it could possibly be healthy for his heart to be beating this fast.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonder struck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

I was enchanted to meet you

Please don't be in love with someone else

Please don't have somebody waiting on you

As the song ended, Virgil picked up his phone and pretended to read a text from his mom. "Uh, my mom says I best be getting home," He said shortly, taking the earbud out and standing, grabbing his bag. Roman sat up, wanting... well, he didn't really know what he wanted. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"Um, do you want a ride? I can drive you if-"

"No, that's alright." Virgil considered elaborating, but couldn't think of a good reason for his denial. He just had to get out of there, away from Roman, or he didn't know what would happen. "Uh, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Ye-yeah, sure thing," Roman said, scratching the back of his neck. Virgil left with scarcely a sound, and walked hastily toward the bus stop.

On his walk, he found the song they'd been listening to, and added it to his library.

#patton sanders #ts patton #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #high school au #prinxiety #logicality #roman x virgil #patton x logan

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macaronis-telegraph · 5 years ago

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Let me tell you about Jack Thayer.

John “Jack” Borland Thayer III, at the age of 17, was heading home to Philadelphia via New York along with his mother and father¹ as first class passengers on the ill-fated maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic. Upon the collision with the iceberg and the loading of the lifeboats, Jack went to investigate and quickly found himself separated from his parents. He assumed they had both managed to board a lifeboat, and he was half correct - his mother, Marian Thayer, hade made it onto lifeboat 4.

Not young enough to find easy refuge on a lifeboat, Jack spent those final moments onboard the Titanic with Milton C. Long, who was in a similar state of separation from his family. Together they worked up the courage to jump into the water, for hopes of swimming out to an already launched lifeboat, but they hesitated, Jack later saying that he feared being stunned upon hitting the water, due to the below freezing temperatures. Eventually, though, when the boat deck was only an estimated ten yards above the water, they finally took the plunge.

“Long and myself stood by each other and jumped on the rail. We did not give each other any messages for home because neither of us thought we would ever get back.” ²

Milton jumped first. Jack followed, but would never see Milton again. Jack’s account of his time in the water is as follows:

“I jumped out, feet first, went down, and as I came up I was pushed away from the ship by some force. I was sucked down again, and as I came up I was pushed out again and twisted around by a large wave,³ coming up in the midst of a great deal of small wreckage. My hand touched the canvas fender of an overturned lifeboat. I looked up and saw some men on the top. One of them helped me up. In a short time the bottom was covered with twenty-five or thirty men. The assistant wireless operator⁴ was right next to me holding on to me and kneeling in the water.” ²

This upside-down lifeboat was the Engelhardt boat B, one of the Titanic’s four “collapsible” lifeboats. B in particular had been swept off of the deck before it could be properly launched, landing itself in the water bottom-side up. This boat carried 30 men through the cold night, only three of them passengers, the rest crew, being led by 2nd Officer Charles Lightoller. It was a constant battle of balance, desperate not to release the small pocked of air trapped under the boat that kept it afloat. By daybreak, they were all standing, the lifeboat almost fully submerged, feet freezing.⁵

With daylight, they were finally able to locate the other lifeboats, and with a whistle easily identified as that of an officer’s, Lightoller directed two lifeboats to meet their overturned one, so the exhausted men could all offload onto drier and safer wood. Of these two boats, one of them was lifeboat 4, holding Jack’s mother.

One can hardly imagine what it must’ve been like for Marian Thayer, the crushing emotions she may have felt in those moments. To take the sea in a lifeboat, knowing both her husband and son were still on board the doomed ship. To see that ship disappear under the surf, and to hear the screams until they too vanished like the liner. To know that the worst has happened to her family, but maybe, that dangerous inkling of hope, or more so, denial, that many survivors had felt, telling themselves that their loved ones must be on one of the other lifeboats - they just must. And then as the dawn brakes, distraught and cold, she doesn’t even recognize a familiar face on that overturned boat they had gone to relieve. Jack, too, did not notice his mother at this time, likely hypothermic⁶ from his plunge the night before. It wasn’t until they were safe onboard the RMS Carpathia that the two were truly reunited, and as I said before, one can only imagine the outpouring of emotions that must have caused. Not to mention, that there was still someone missing from this reunion. Jack’s father had not survived.

While Jack and his mother’s survival might call for a relatively happy ending, I’m afraid that can’t be the case. After graduating from college, becoming a successful banker, and settling down with a family, Jack still found himself extremely haunted by that fateful night in 1912. In 1940, he wrote about his experiences to try and expel the troubles from his mind, but it seemed that it was not enough. Then, with the outbreak of WWII, both of his two sons joined the services, and one did not return. Not long after, Jack Thayer followed his late son, taking his own life on September 18th, 1945.

...

Notes:

1. Jack’s father was John B. Thayer II, vice president of the Pennsylvania railroad.

2. These quotations are as written in The Truth About the Titanic, written by Col. Archibald Gracie. Gracie was one of the other two passengers (all three of which were first class) who found refuge on the Engelhardt boat B.

3. This large wave was likely caused by the falling of one of the Titanic’s funnels. This wave also accounts for how Jack jumped off of the starboard side, but ended up on port.

4. Refers to Harold S. Bride, the junior wireless operator, working for the Marconi Company.

5. While Jack came out of the whole ordeal uninjured, other occupants of lifeboat B did not fare as well. Bride, for example, suffered frostbitten and broken feet.

6. Jack having hypothermia is entirely my own speculation. I have not seen any material stating that Jack suffered any medical conditions from that night, nor am I a doctor, but it does not seem unlikely to me due to the temperature, him being soaked through, and the fact that he did not register the presence of his own mother.

#rms titanic #Titanic #history #1912 #jack thayer

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bugoverlord · 5 years ago

Text

5 times kuroo couldn’t help kenma, and one where he didn't need to///kuroken

Kenma falls to the ground. His wobbly legs give out after running so far and fast. He breathes heavy as he collects himself again. He looks behind him quickly to find that he was not being chased anymore.

He hates the other kids. He hates how they don’t like him or his hair or his shyness. He wishes that they would just leave him alone for once instead of harassing him every chance they get.

Kenma is nine years old and in the second grade when the other kids decide to start trying to get Kenma to open up in the worst way possible. First it started with fake-but-polite smiles in his direction during lunch, but when they realized he wasn’t going to smile back or even look them in the eye, they got mean. They tripped him and pushed him. They would yell and make fun of his hair and voice and clothes.

Thats why he found himself on the sidewalk, blocks away from school after trying and succeeding to outrun the bullies.

His eyes tear up and his throat heaves a dry sob. He started crying even more when he realizes in the midst of running away, that he forgot his backpack. He knew that his mom would get mad and he knew that if he went back to get it, he would just get hurt even more. So, he stayed on the sidewalk helpless crying at his scraped knee and hurt feelings.

He hears a quiet “Kenma!”, coming from behind him. He sees Kuroo, his best friend and the only person that has ever decided to stay with him voluntarily. He has a concerned look on his face as he draws nearer.

“Kenma.. did the other kids hurt you again?” He asks.

Kenma nods shakily, trying to get up from the ground.

Kuroo frowns and shakes his head, obviously angry.

“Well, I knew that you had gone somewhere because when I went to your class after school today you weren’t there but your bag was, and I knew you would never leave your bag unattended with your PSP inside so I went and tried to find you, but you weren't anywhere on school property and I got scared so I ran out of school and-” Kuroo says, his words slightly slurring together as he tries to say all of it in only a few breaths.

“I’m ok.” Kenma says and interrupts Kuroo. His words are slightly wavering but he puts on a brave face and reaches for his bag from Kuroo's hands. Once he has the bag in his hand he just reaches inside and pulls out his PSP and turns it on. He’s already turned around when he says “Let’s just go home.” and starts walking.

2- (S*LF H*RM TW)

Kenma is on his bed playing a video game when Kuroo bursts through the door.

“Hey Kenma! I brought Mario Kart!”

Kenma smiles slightly and scoots to the side on his bed, a clear invitation to have Kuroo sit beside him. Kuroo sits down and sets up the game for two players. Kenma quickly pulls his long sleeves back down his arms when Kuroo isn’t looking, and saves and shuts down the hand-held game he was playing.

He returns his attention back on Mario Kart as he gets ready to play the game.

They play about ten rounds before Kuroo decides he’s had enough of being beaten by Kenma. “This isn’t fair! You know everything about this game! How the hell am I supposed to beat that?”

Kenma grins wolfishly before setting the controller down and shutting the game off for both of them. While he does this, he says “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at video games.” Kuroo gasps, offended and punches Kenma in the arm.

They both laugh and pull out their homework that they got during the day. Kenma is currently in his second year of middle school, while Kuroo is in his third.

They work silently, only making noise when asking about a question or complaining about the amount of work the have each been given.

Kenma huffs. He doesn't get this assignment at all.

“Hey kuro, can you help me?”

Kuroo turns towards Kenma and looks at the page that Kenma has laid in front of him.

“Oh! I remember doing this! So basically..” Kuroo starts but he trails off as he looks at Kenma.

Specifically his arms.

When Kenma realizes this his face turns red and he pulls down his sleeves quickly. He must’ve pulled them up subconsciously while focusing on his work.

“Actually I’m okay I can do it later.” Kenma tries to grab the paper from where Kuroo has placed it under his hands but Kuroo won’t let him.

“Kenma.. where did those cuts come from?” Kenma freezes and doesn’t respond. How could he respond to something like that without being suspicious?

“Kenma. Give me your arm.” Kuroo says, and Kenma can tell that this isn’t a request.

He shakes his head and tucks his arms to his chest, trying to fold into himself so he won’t have to deal with Kuroo’s questions.

“Kenma.” Kuroo says as he grabs at Kenma’s tucked away arms. Kuroo struggles a bit before he latches onto Kenma’s left arm and pulls up the sleeve.

Along Kenma’s forearm are horizontal cuts that are littered everywhere from his wrists to the fold of his elbow. Some clearly new and some light pink and old.

Kenma tries to pull back his arm but Kuroo’s grip won’t let up.

“Did you do this to yourself?” Kuroo asks, concerned. After a few seconds of hesitation Kenma nods slowly.

Kuroo’s expression turns into horror as he stares back down at Kenma’s cuts.

“Why?”

“It just got too much and I didn’t know what to do,” Kenma starts, his face scrunching up tightly while tears start to stream down his face. His breathing gets harsher but he continues, “I’m sorry I won’t do it again, I promise. Please let go Kuroo. I didn’t mean to I promise, It just got to much and I didn’t know how to deal with it I’m sorry-”

Kuroo lets his grip loosen but as soon as Kenma pulls his arm back he throws his arms around the setter.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you Kenma. I love you so much please stop doing this to yourself. I don’t know what I would do if you were gone, Kenma. Please promise me that you won’t do this again.” Kuroo says, his words muffled in Kenma's neck.

Kenma can feel Kuroo’s tears on his skin so he puts his arms around Kuro, trying to comfort the other boy more than himself.

“I promise. I love you too.”

Kenma picks up another ball and puts it on top of the pile in his arms.

“Kozume-kun! Pick up the rest of the balls in the gym for your Senpais!” One of the third years of Nekoma high shouts at him.

This surprises him so much that he drops the three balls that were balancing in his arms. He frowns when he hears laughing coming from behind him.

He starts to pick the balls back up but he pauses when he hears whispers.

“God, look at him, he’s so pathetic.”

“He’s so easy to push around, I wonder why the rooster-head doesn’t use that to his advantage.” “It’s probably because he takes pity on him, I mean, look at the kid! He looks scared of his own shadow.”

His eyes fill with tears and he stubbornly blinks them away and continues to pick up the rest of the balls on the gym floor. Once he puts all of them back into the basket and gets ready to leave, another third year shouts at him again.

“Oh, Kozume-kun, I forgot to tell you, it’s our turn to mop the floor tonight!”

The group of third years leave after that, and Kenma breaths in harshly before mumbling under his breath “yeah, just like it was yesterday and the day before,,,”

He goes to the supply closet and brings out the floor cleaner. As he starts mopping up the floor, he hears shoes squeaking near the door. When he turns to look however, he sees Kuro standing there instead of the third year bully he expected.

Kuroo frowns when he sees what Kenma is doing and walks over to him. He takes the mop from his hand and drags the cleaning supplies back into the supply closet.

“You know you could say no to the third-years once in a while.” Kuroo says.

“We both know that they wouldn’t let me out of the work no matter how many times I say no. And even if they did, they would get back at me for it, later.” Kenma says softly, looking down at his shoes.

“You should have told me.”

“Told you what? That the third years are making me do some extra cleaning? That they’re making me run more than the others? What good would that do? It wouldn’t change how they treat me and you know it.”

Kuroo sighs and brings his arms up and around Kenma’s shoulders.

“I just wish I could do something. I wish they would leave you alone so you can really enjoy volleyball this year.” Kuroo says nuzzling the top of Kenma's head.

“yeah.” Kenma quietly agrees.

Kuroo pulls back from the hug and looks at Kenma's face. He leans down a few inches, and plants his mouth on Kenma’s. It lingers for a few second before he pulls away and pulls Kenma back into his arms. This isn’t a new experience for either of them. They have been sharing kisses since the year prior when they both admitted that they had feelings for each other.

They stand there hugging in the gym until a teacher comes into the gym and yells at them for staying too late into the night.

Kenma is sitting in the corner of his room at ‘his’ 17th birthday party.

It doesn’t feel like his, it feels like an excuse for his parents to invite family and family friends to their house.

His eyes prickle with tears and he covers his mouth as the sobs start pouring out of him. He can’t control them anymore. The people here and the loudness of everything is getting to him.

He can feel his breathing growing ragged as he tries to control his panic, but knowing that there are at least 20 people in his house mingling right now fills him with unexplainable dread and anxiety.

the only person that he actually wanted here was Kuroo, and he is here, but he got dragged away by Kenma’s parents as soon as he stepped through the door and Kenma hasn’t see him since.

While he’s trying to calm himself down he doesn’t hear the door to his bedroom open and close softly.

When he’s finally noticed the legs in front of him and looks up, he sees Kuroo with a sad smile on his face looking down at him.

“Hey kitten. Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t say that earlier but you know how your parents are.” Kuro puts his hand out for Kenma and Kenma gratefully takes it. Kuroo pulls both of them onto the bed, and guides Kenma down to his chest.

“I’m sorry that you aren’t enjoying yourself, babe. I wish I could kick all of the people out and just kiss you senseless for a while.” Kuroo says, rubbing hand up and down Kenma’s back.

Kenma nods against his chest and closes his eyes. His breathing has evened out again and the tears eventually stop coming. Even thought he can still hear the people around the house, the voices have quieted.

Kuroo brings Kenma up to his face and brushes a piece of hair out of his face.

“You are so pretty Kenma.”

Kenma’s face scrunches up in embarrassment and turns red.

“Shut up.” Despite the words, there is no vicious tone in his voice and Kuroo knows that he’s just flustered.

Kuroo brings their faces closer together and says “Happy Birthday, Kenma.” Before kissing him.

“Hello?”

“Kuroo?” Kenma says, sounding nasally and emotional, like he’s been crying.

“Yeah it’s me. You alright?” Kuroo replies already feeling worried for Kenma.

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You made a mistake.” Kenma says, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t be captain. They don’t listen to me no matter how loud I try to be. The first years are constantly yelling and jumping around and nothing ever gets done. I can’t do this anymore. I have to quit.”

“Kenma, they aren’t doing this on purpose believe me i’ve-”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a failure Kuro! You were always the perfect captain, able to fix anyones problems with just a stupid speech. I don’t have any talent in volleyball and everyone is finally realizing it after I can't hide behind you.” Kenma says aggressively.

“Kenma. You are so talented. You are one of the best setters I know-” Kenma snorts through the phone. “I’m serious. You don’t have the best technique i’ve ever seen, but you see so much. You can come up with the best strategies when you put your mind to it.” Kuroo says.

“I know how tough it can be to get younger players in line, but believe me, when you finally see their full potential and put it all together, you can create a well-oiled-machine. Please just keep trying. For me.”

“I- I just don’t know what to do.” Kenma says after a moment of silence. “How do you get them to listen?”

“Be calm and keep your head. Try to be as authoritative as you can be, and try to show them some cool plays. That always gets them excited.” Kuroo responds.

They both laugh quietly.

“Thank you, Tetsurou.” Kenma says, sounding a lot more calm.

“Anytime, Kitten.” Kuroo responds. “Feel free to call me whenever you need advice. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Hello, welcome to Arcadia.” Kenma says from behind the counter. This job is his favorite one he’s had so far, not because of the customers, but because of the games that are around the store.

The customer that came through the door nods her head and starts walking around the small store.

Kuro comes out of the back holding his bag and some headphones.

“I’ll see you at home, my shifts over for today.” Kenma nods and Kuroo gives one of his small genuine smiles.

While Kuroo is saying goodbye and getting the rest of his things, the young girl that came in just a few minutes earlier comes up to the counter.

She smiles shyly and tucks her hair behind her ears while Kenma rings her up. He doesn't pay any mind and just says “Your total comes up to $12.04.” She nods and pulls out her wallet. After she has paid for her game, she says “Um- can we- I mean- do you want to go out for lunch some time?”

Kenma’s eyes widen. Kuro is standing behind him ready to say something when kenma kicks him under the counter lightly.

“No thanks. Sorry though. Your pretty and all but I’m taken.” kenma says with a bored look on his face. She looks suprised and says “By who?”

“The guy behind me.”

Her face falls into an embarrassed smile and she quickly bows and basically runs out of the shop.

They both let out relieved sighs they didn't realize they were keeping in, and looked at each other before breaking out into small chuckles.

“Wow, I’m surprised at how good you handled that. If we were still in high school you would have turned red and started stammering or something. I guess my shy little Kenma is long gone now.” Kuroo says teasingly as he packs the last of his things from the store.

“Yeah, yeah. Go away.” Kenma says with a red flush on his faced at being teased. Kuroo smirks and pulls Kenma’s face in for a goodbye kiss before leaving.

“See you at home.” Kuroo says.

“Yeah, see you.”

-END-

WOOO that probably the longest fic i’ve posted on here haha! Hope u enjoy my shitty writing!

#kuroken #fanfic #fanfiction #5+1 fic #5+1 #kenma kozume #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu kenma #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #kenma #kuroo #haikyuu fanfiction #haiykuu fanfic #enjoy

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thebestpersonherelovesbucky · 5 years ago

Text

My Heart Will Go On

(the Titanic AU)

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings*** Length: 95.8k 7/10 Chapters

Summary:

Seventeen-year-old James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, born to wealth and privilege, is returning home to America aboard the RMS-Titanic – the Ship of Dreams – with his mother, Winifred, and fiancé, Alexander Pierce. Wanting nothing to do with the upcoming wedding that’s been forced upon him, Bucky feels lost and helpless, desperate to get away from a life he dreads. All he longs for is freedom, and he might very well be desperate enough to escape by any means necessary.

For twenty-one-year-old Steve Rogers, a kind but poor artist, life is full of endless possibilities and limitless adventures. When Steve wins a pair of Third Class Tickets for Titanic at a lucky hand of poker, he just knows with all his heart that his destiny waits for him on that ship. With the fresh air in his lungs, a few blank pages, and his best friend, Sam, at his side, Steve is sure this is going to be his biggest adventure yet.

While aboard the ship, a chance encounter brings Bucky, the spoiled aristocrat, and Steve, the starving artist, face-to-face, and one moment just might change both their lives forever as they sail across the Atlantic on the ill-fated Ship of Dreams.

Sample:

Bucky runs into the First Class entrance and down the staircase, pushing past the gentlemen and ladies who are filling up the steps. He scans the A-deck foyer. He doesn’t see Mr. Stark anywhere. Worried that one punch might not be enough to thwart Alex’s attempts at bringing him back again, Bucky doesn’t linger. He runs down the rest of the stairs and across the A-Deck foyer.

The first corridor he checks only has passengers in it, many of them still moseying about and taking their time. Unaware of the present danger and emergency they’re actually in. Around the corner, Bucky finds an empty hallway.

“Mr. Stark?” he calls as he searches. “Mr. Stark?”

There are still more people he comes across as he looks up and down the corridors. A few of them have lifejackets on. Some of them are collecting precious possessions. None of them are Mr. Stark.

“Mr. Stark?!”

Bucky runs down two more corridors, looking into open doorways as he does, until he nearly flies right by him. Mr. Stark is coming out of a room he’s just checked for any passengers.

“Steward!” he says to a passing crewman ushering some gentleman down the hall. “Check the starboard corner!”

“Yes, Mr. Stark!”

To a woman still standing in her doorway pulling gloves on her hands, Mr. Stark says, “Madam, please, hurry and get to the boat deck immediately.” Then, to a maid, touching her cheek gently, “Sweetheart, please, put on your lifevest, set a good example.” He pushes another door open. “Is anyone in here?!”

“Mr. Stark!” Bucky calls, breathless as he hurries to him. “Mr. Stark, thank god!” When he reaches him, Mr. Stark looks horrified to see him there. “Where would the Master at Arms bring someone under arrest?”

“Wh- no. No, James, you need to get to the boats right away!”

He attempts to turn Bucky to send him back the way he came. As kindhearted and well-meaning as it is, Bucky jerks away from him and huffs, moving back to face him again.

“No!” he shouts. “It’s Steve, Mr. Stark. I have to find him! I’m going to do this with or without your help. But without will take longer.”

Mr. Stark looks at him like he’d give anything to change his mind, but sighs, beaten, and nods.

“Take the elevator to the very bottom.” He points toward the direction of the elevator bank. “Go left, down the crewman's passage, then make a right and go left again at the stairs. You’ll come to a long corridor. The office is down there.”

“Bottom, left, right, left. I have it.” Bucky nods, committing these directions to memory. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Please, hurry, James.”

Breaking into a run, Bucky rushes back to the foyer. There are still tons of people gathered around and he struggles to get through the crowd.

“Excuse me,” he says as he maneuvers around them. “Pardon me. Thank you.”

Finally reaching the elevators, Bucky almost falls over in his haste to get into one. Only he’s stopped by the operator, who’s clearly been telling other people that he won’t be working them.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the lifts are closed.”

Scared and frustrated and simply exhausted, Bucky grabs him and shoves him back into the elevator.

“I’m through being polite, goddamnit!” he shouts. “Now take me down!”

The operator, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, fumbles to close the gate and start the lift.

@annecraycray @renlongwaters @maitre-kuroneko @whipped-for-marvel @the-chiseled-dorito-of-justice @incorrectstevebucky @codenamefinlandia @katsdisturbed @lulu5109 @catherinemedellin @mistjif68 @platonictrashh @astaraiches-oisinn @acook39 @gikah98 @southerngracela @hutchhitched @helloarmchairphilosopher @octobergryphon @starbirks @reblogging-bucky @ransomsweatersandcappuccinos

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #titanic #titanic au #stucky titanic #the puppy dog scene!!!

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sanjaysarafeducationalinsti-blog · 5 years ago

Link

#ca final risk management #risk management ca final classes #ca final risk management pendrive #best faculty for risk management ca final #ca final risk management video lectures #RM classes for ca final in kolkata #RM classes for ca final #Direct to Home Classes for RM #ca final risk management pendrive classes #best video lectures for the CA Final SFM #Best teacher for sfm #best faculty CA Final Video lectures

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talltree-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Art History, Philosophy, and Scientific Periodicals // K.NJ

Y/N is a senior in college and works part time at the library near her apartment. RM is the leader of the powerful Wings gang. Despite knowing his dangerous reputation, Y/N can't help but be interested in the sweet man who borrows vastly different books and talks with her for hours.

Genre: Fluff, slice of life, mild angst? (there's a brief fight between reader and her brother), f2l

Pairing: Kim Namjoon/(F)Reader

Warnings: Reference to sexual assault (it doesn't happen, but it's implied it could have), swearing, guns (make an appearance, but they aren't used in the story), fighting

Word Count: 7.2k

Author's Note: Inspired by Close to You by hollyhomburg on Tumblr (I just checked, and I think she might have deleted, so if anyone can find a link, that’d be really cool!). A really cool concept that I obviously enjoyed, haha! Also I intended this to be a little warm-up piece that was maybe 2k, but uhhh, that obviously didn't happen (it was still a bit of a warm up, it was just a warm up that lasted about 2 weeks...)

Photo isn't mine!!

-Kim Namjoon had always intrigued you.

-You had seen him for the first time at the local library you worked at part time, earning a bit of cash to help pay for the last bit of tuition that your scholarship didn’t cover.

-It wasn’t the best location, but it was close to you, you enjoyed most of the people who came, and most of all: you loved books. And, well, the enigma of a man who came in during your shift didn’t hurt

-Namjoon stood out in most ways from the normal visitors.

-For one, he checked out odd combinations of books. Usually, the books were philosophy or art history combined with a scientific periodical, often adding a book on a certain language (it changed every once and awhile), or one on music theory or history.

-Secondly, the man, with his blonde hair, piercings, leather jacket, and copious tattoos were far cries from most of the library’s usual visitors

-Lastly, he always came alone. Most of the regulars at the library brought someone at least occasionally, a child, a wife, a friend, someone. But never Namjoon.

-Curiously, instead of finding what he needed and either occupying one of the couches or arm chairs in the back, or even simply taking it home, he always sat at the table closest to your desk

-After a while of reading, he’d ask you a question or bring up a topic. Sometimes your day, or your classes, sometimes he’d ask what the oddest thing someone had checked out was, or, on particularly slow days, he’d leave his books and come sit on the counter next to you, where you two would chat about your lives or philosophy or mythology or art.

-He checked his books about thirty minutes before your shift would end, flashing you a dimpled grin and tucking his books into the beat up backpack he always had before waving on his way out.

-Now, you weren’t dumb. You knew Namjoon was RM, leader of the Wings, and that you should absolutely be scared of him. He sold drugs, he threatened people, hell, he killed people.

-But he was also Namjoon, the dork who showed up at the times he knew it would be slow (street reps were important), the dimple-cheeked guy who teased you about your love of dramas (before secretly confessing to enjoying a few himself). He was the guy who would help you put returned books away before he left, laugh brightly at your dumb jokes or confused face or ruffle your hair affectionately when you did something cute. He was the guy who made butterflies flutter in your stomach and your heart thump wildly.

-So, against all logic, you couldn’t muster up any fear for him.

-However, you did fear your walk home

-Normally, you went unbothered, but that didn’t change the fact that you were walking through a bad area of town at night. You carried a small switchblade and pepper spray just in case.

-One night, everything had been going normally. You had finished closing up the library, waving goodbye to your coworker as you both set off in different directions.

-For the first half, everything seemed normal enough. You stopped at a small shop on your way, grabbing a few essentials that your brother had asked you to get before continuing on your way.

-A few of the street lights were out ahead of you, but you shrugged, it happened sometimes, and would probably be fixed in a few days’ time. Still, you were more cautious as you walked, conscious of the shadowy alleyways along the street.

-You palmed the small blade in your sweatshirt pocket, tensing as the area around you grew darker. Just a few hundred feet, you reassured yourself. Just a bit more and you’d be back in the light, in safety.

-A few feet from returning to the light, you were passing an alley when the shadows started shifting.

-Before you could react, foreign hands reached out to grab you, pulling you towards them. You screamed as loud as you could, but a hand wrapped around your mouth, another pressing something sharp into your side.

-“Shut up, bitch.” A man hissed into your ear.

-You whimpered as he dragged you backwards, the point of what you assumed was a knife digging further in, a silent order to comply. His hot breath in your ear sent spikes of fear through your body, and you felt tears drag down your face.

-The sudden cock of a gun forced both of you to freeze.

-“Let her go. Right. Fucking. Now.” A familiar voice commanded. Your eyes widened when you looked up and saw Namjoon standing at the alleyway entrance.

-The hands on your body shifted, and for a moment you thought he might let you go, but your heart fell when the hand at your mouth just shifted down, grabbing the knife from his other and bringing it to your throat. Your captor arranged your positioning to where you were acting as his unwilling shield, any shot your savior tried would risk your injury.

-You saw Namjoon’s gaze shift slightly to the area just behind you, and you heard another gun cock. “He said let the girl go, asshole.”

-Slowly, the hands around you released and you stumbled away from him, towards Namjoon who already held an arm out to catch you.

-You buried your head in the chest of the familiar man, one of his arms holding him to you comfortingly.

-“L-look, I didn’t know she was your girl. I-I just wanted a little fun. I’m sorry”

-You gulped at his implications, burying yourself impossibly closer to Namjoon.

-The other guy with a gun growled “It’s not fun if she isn’t willing, you piece of shit.”

-“JK, take care of this guy. I don’t want to see him around here any time soon.” You felt the rumbling of his voice through his chest.

-The arm holding his gun lowered, reaching back to shove the weapon in his waistband. He lead you out of the alleyway and back the way you were going. Faintly, you wondered how he knew, but were still too in shock to think too much about it.

-It wasn’t until you were standing outside a well lit shop that your emotions finally hit you.

-Honestly it’s not pretty.

-We’re talking snot, tears, all of it.

-But he just hugs you to his chest and rubs your back, letting you cry away your fear and horror before you got home

-“It’s going to be okay, you’re safe now. I won’t let that happen again.”

-You realized he was whispering soothing things to you and you just gripped his jacket tighter.

-Finally, after you had cried yourself dry, he leads you into the store, nodding once at the owner, and telling you to get some candy

-He left you to choose, always being careful to stay in your sights, and to keep you in his. He wandered to the drinks, grabbing two bottles of water and, after a moment of hesitation, a chocolate milk.

-The two of you met at the counter, you with a bag of assorted mini chocolates and him with his drinks.

-You started to take out your wallet to pay for all of the items (afterall, he saved you, you kinda owed him a lot) but he beat you to it, throwing down a few bills and telling the owner to keep the change.

-He gathered up your purchases in one hand, grabbing yours with the other.

-Outside, he offers you your choice of water or chocolate milk and gives you your candy.

-You choose chocolate milk, because you haven’t had it in forever and it just seems so comforting

-It is, in fact, very comforting and you smile a little at his thoughtfulness

-As the two of you walk, you don’t do much talking. You’re still pretty rattled up from the alley, but you offer him some of the chocolate from the bag you’ve put in your sweatshirt pocket. He doesn’t accept, and you just shrug.

-You don’t realize that he actually really wants some chocolate, but he refuses to let go of your hand and his other hand has water bottles in it.

-He forgets he’s carrying a backpack and can just put them in there, because wow you’re really pretty and distracting and your hand is so small and delicate and soft and he will absolutely Not be letting it go until he has to

-Eventually, you speak up.

-“Thank you, by the way. For the chocolate and for the… alley. I’d have been in much worse shape if you hadn’t shown up.”

-Your voice is quiet and scratchy from crying, but he catches every word, always so very aware of you.

-He shrugs, as if saving you was a given. “I don’t want to see you hurt. Especially like that, no girl should be treated like that.”

-You squeeze his hand again in thanks.

-You idly chatter to each other, but he seems a little more distracted, scanning the area.

-He glares at several people. Some cross the street with their head ducked, others pass with glares of their own. If they glance at you, Namjoon’s hand tightens around yours and pulls you closer.

-When you get to your apartment building, he only hesitates about walking to your door a moment, encouraged by your hand tugging him along with you.

-Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten his hand was wrapped around yours, only becoming conscious of it when he would squeeze it.

-He doesn’t squeeze it when you start to drag him into your building

-At your door, you look back up at him and send him a shy grin.

-“Thank you, again, for saving me. And for comforting me, and walking me home, and�� yeah. You didn’t have to do most of that and I’m really grateful.”

-His eyes are soft and tender as they meet your gaze, nothing like the man who aimed a gun at someone not 45 minutes ago.

-“I’ll always do my best to protect you, Y/N. I re-”

-He was cut off mid word by your door swinging open

-“Y/N! Oh my god, are you okay? What happened?” Your brother’s gaze zeroed in on your red, puffy eyes and the small dribble of blood on your throat caused by the small cut the knife had made. You hadn’t even noticed until now

-Namjoon had. Namjoon was going to help you clean it up when you got back to your apartment if you let him.

-Namjoon, assuming the guy was your boyfriend, dropped your hand quickly and cleared his throat

-You really hated the lack of warmth honestly and had to stop yourself from reaching for it again

-Your brother’s eyes shifted to the large man standing in your doorway, noting his appearance and drawing his own conclusions

-“What the fuck did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

-Namjoon was ready to knock your “boyfriend” out for insinuating that he’d ever lay a hurtful hand on you but you stepped in between the two guys first

-“What-- No, Jordan, he saved me. Someone attacked me. I’ll tell you the whole story later, but I’m fine now, and that’s mostly thanks to him.”

-Your brother’s jaw clicked shut and stayed tense. His words were clipped and cold, almost as if he didn’t believe you.

-“Well. Then, I suppose I should thank you. (Y/N)’s safety is very important to me.”

-Namjoon’s voice was equally as tight in his response.

-“It was no problem. I’d hate to see her hurt, too. I should head out, though. You guys have a good night.” You glanced at his retreating form curiously. You had seen RM, the gang leader, you had seen the Namjoon from the library, but you’d never seen this version. This one was standoff-ish, and nowhere near the passionate and boyish guy you knew.

-It unsettled you a little.

-Your brother gently gripped your forearm and pulled you into your apartment, shutting and locking the door firmly once you were both inside.

-He met your eyes with a searching gaze, but waited a moment before speaking.

-“You can tell the truth now, did he hurt you?”

-You recoiled in shock. Namjoon? Hurt you? Sure, you knew who he was and what his reputation was, but you felt safer standing next to Namjoon than almost anyone else.

-“No, Jordan, he didn’t hurt me. I know him, he wouldn’t do that.”

-You made to turn away and go to the bathroom. You wanted to shower and wash the last few hours off your body. But your brother wasn’t done.

-“Wha- Know him? (Y/N), do you know who that is? How in the everloving fuck do you know him?” He practically shouted

-You shushed him, conscious of your nosy neighbors and the thin walls separating the apartments.

-You rolled your eyes, though. “Yes, I know who he is. That’s RM, formerly known as Rap Monster, and he’s my friend. He comes into the library a lot during my shift and we talk.” You bit back a soft smile at the thought that he might be back tomorrow.

-Your brother sees this though-- he’s way too good at reading you

-“No, absolutely not. You cannot be friends with him. He’s dangerous and I don’t trust him or his gang members.”

-He crosses his arms and stands straight, as if the extra inch and glower will force you to conform.

-But you weren’t 14, and he wasn’t your father.

-Anger washed over you, and you nearly forgot about your nosey neighbors and the thin walls.

-“Jordan, I am not a child! In fact, I am a fully fledged adult woman who can make choices for herself! Now, I have been getting to know Namj-- RM for a few months now, and I’d like to consider us friends. Not to mention, he and one of his gang members just saved me from a rather fucked up experience, so I’d be pretty damn grateful for him right now. Tell me, though, how exactly would you stop me from being friends with him? I met him at the library, you know, the place I work? Are you going to make me quit my job too?”

-You’d started to say Namjoon, but figured he didn’t want too many people knowing his real name.

-“I know you are not a child! But you’re my baby sister, and I promised to protect you always. I’m grateful he saved you tonight, but maybe you should consider quitting. You only need a few more credits to graduate next spring, maybe you should focus on finishing up and looking for a big internship, you know?”

-You glared at him.

-“Oh yeah, because we can really afford to lose my income.”

-He didn’t have a leg to stand on and he knew it. But he kept going.

-“Ok, so maybe it would be tight for a while, but if it got too bad you could get a new one, maybe closer to campus, just until you could start using your degree.” His voice started edging on desperate, but you just rolled your eyes and turned your back.

-“I’m not quitting my job or avoiding RM, end of story. Now I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’ve had a long night and I just want to move on.” You, once again, started for the bathroom.

-Your brother stepped forward and caught your arm again, his touch gentle despite the argument you’d just had, and when you turned his eyes were soft and concerned.

-“What did happen tonight, (Y/N)? Are you okay?”

-You swallowed and nodded. “I’m okay now. A guy grabbed me as I was walking and dragged me into an alley. He had a knife and a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t do much, but RM and one of his guys threatened him and he let me go. RM took care of me and brought me home.” You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. Honestly, you were still pretty rattled by the whole experience.

-His eyes searched your face again, and your expression must have been convincing, because he just nodded and let you go.

-“Get some rest.”

-“Thanks”

-The next morning, your brother was up and gone before you, as usual, but he had prepared breakfast before leaving for work. There was a note left on the counter beside it.

-‘(Y/N), I’m sorry about last night. Have a good day and call me if you need anything.’

-You smiled a little at his apology.

-The day dragged on; you had one class in the morning that ended around 11 and your first afternoon class started at 2, so you used the time between to get a headstart on homework. You usually tried some at the library, but got distracted by Kim Namjoon more times than not.

-Your shift at the library started like any other. You saw some regulars, some people just there on a whim or because they needed a reference. You checked books out occasionally, checked them in when you needed to, but all around, had a quiet shift.

-When Namjoon walked in towards the end of it, though, you were surprised. He’d been there yesterday, and he didn’t usually come one day after another-- even he couldn’t read the books that fast.

-Even more surprising, he didn’t even go look at the books. Instead, he sauntered over to the desks, settling himself next to you. His grin showed easy confidence, but his eyes were guarded in a way you hadn’t seen in months.

-“You doing alright?” He asked

-You shrugged. You’d kept your mind preoccupied enough today, but you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t affected you.

-When a classmate had run up to catch you after the lecture to get last classes notes, you’d noticeably jumped, your heart rate increasing far more than if it had been a normal scare

-You kept checking over your shoulder as you walked to class, despite knowing how safe your campus was and the fact that it was broad daylight

-You really weren’t looking forward to the walk home tonight

-“I’m still spooked, but I think that’s a little justifiable given the circumstances.”

-He bit his lip, looking like he was trying to figure out whether to ask something. Something must have won, because he asked

-“Are you walking home alone again? I mean-- is your boyfriend coming to get you or are you going by yourself?”

-You cocked your head. Boyfriend? “What boyfriend? Is someone telling people that he’s my boyfriend?”

-Now it was his turn to look confused.

-“The guy last night at your apartment? Jordan or whatever, wasn’t he your boyfriend?”

-You stared at him for a second, trying to gauge whether he’s joking or not. “Jordan? You mean my brother?”

-A look of shocked understanding took over his face briefly. “Your brother, oh. Okay. Cool, cool. That’s cool.” He had never been this awkward, and you had to bite back a smile.

-But when a bright smile broke through his guarded eyes, you let your own loose.

-Namjoon stayed for the rest of your shift, helping you shut everything down and walking out with you.

-You expected him to wave and head off on his own after you locked up, but he stood for a second.

-“You never answered my question about whether you were walking home alone earlier.”

-You’d thought about calling your brother, really, you had, but every time you had the opportunity to do so, Namjoon did or said something that distracted you

-He didn’t know he was doing it, of course. How could he know you were thinking of calling your brother to bring you home after your shift?

-“Oh- um, well no. I don’t. I can call my brother, though, and he’ll come get me.”

-“But you’d still have to wait for him to come get you, right?”

-You shrugged, already opening your phone. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’ll just wait here or at the shop down the block.”

-“I mean, I could just take you home.” He shrugged casually

-This man is absolutely not casual in his head, he is freaking the fuck out

-He has his bike, which he doesn’t bring to the library most of the time

-Mostly because that’s kinda conspicuous

-But also because he’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask to walk you home for a while

-But today he figured you might not want to walk

-You glanced up at him. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. It’s a long walk.”

-He shot you an easy grin, “I wasn’t proposing walking. I have my bike.” He gestured to the parking lot where a motorcycle sat

-Your resolve is already pretty low. The walk is long, and you’d have to wait for your brother and then do the walk yourself, and you’d honestly rather just get back home and go to bed

-So you nod and follow him to the barely lit lot

-He hands you the helmet hanging from the bars, and when you shoot him a questioning look, he shrugs

-“I’d rather I get hurt than you, and I don’t have another helmet.”

-He’s definitely buying one for you like tomorrow

-You put on the helmet and slip onto the seat behind him, loosely wrapping your arms around him

-He smiles a little at the feeling of your slim arms around his waist and kicks on the bike.

-Now, you’d been on motorcycles before, and you knew what it sounded and felt like. But that didn’t stop you from jumping a little and tightening your grip around him

-You feel the rumble of his chuckle as you cling to his back, only really relaxing once you had gotten on the streets.

-Truth be told, the way home wasn’t that long when you drove it.

-The ride came to an end far too soon. He walked you to your door again, and outside your apartment, you hesitated.

-You had been talking all throughout the end of your shift, but you didn’t want it to stop. You wanted to keep talking, about the books he reads, about his life, about your life, about everything. You were incredibly interested in the enigma standing before you and just wanted to figure him out.

-“Do you want to come in tonight?” You offered, very hopeful.

-He glanced at the door with an odd look. Almost as if he wanted to just as much as you did, but was nervous or scared.

-Which is odd. Because he doesn’t get scared.

-Right?

-RM, leader of the most influential gang in the city, hardly rivalled and with numbers unknown, didn’t get scared of going into a girl’s apartment right?

-He didn’t get scared of overprotective brothers, or of not being enough for them

-Not at all

-Apparently, he does.

-Because he shakes his head, and says “I don’t think your brother would appreciate it.”

-He shoots you a smile, and heads back down the hall.

-You slip into your apartment and frown at your brother, who’d obviously been listening.

-“What did I tell you about him, y/n?”

-You glare and shake your head at him

-“And what did I tell you? He’s a good guy, he was just bringing me home.”

-You brush past him and towards your room. He was always like this with guys, which made sense, but didn’t mean you had to appreciate it.

-You showered and ate dinner, but otherwise stayed in your room doing homework. Your classload the next day was light, so you could sleep in

-When you woke up the next day, Jordan was already gone, but today he hadn’t made breakfast or left you a note.

-‘Message received, dickwad.’ You thought, moving to grab a cup of coffee.

-Both your classes were after lunch, so you studied all morning, until you got a text from a friend in your art history course who wanted to meet up and study, since he’d heard you had a quiz that day.

-You agreed, and got ready, getting to a coffee shop near campus by 11:45, 15 minutes earlier than you had agreed, but you didn’t care much.

-Soonyoung got there early too, and you both quizzed each other on paintings and their years and artists. The quizzes weren’t exactly hard, they were just a lot of memorization

-You went your separate ways for your first classes, yours a basic bio course that you’d been putting off, and his some advanced math class for his major.

-Both classes passed as normal, and you felt you did well on the quiz, which was largely due to the studying and warning Soonyoung had given you

-You both walked out together, smiling and talking, and he offered to go with you to your job

-He needed some reference material for the paper you’d just been assigned

-And you were both from the same area

-You’d just met at the campus cafe earlier so you could study longer

-He also has a big ole crush on you

-Has for like a year

-Mans literally took the class to get close to you

-You have 0 idea and just think he’s a really good friend

-It’s kinda because you’re very focussed on this really nice gang leader who reads art history and philosophy books paired with scientific periodicals and articles.

-Agreeing, you both head to the bus stop, chatting just as easily all the way to the library

-That is, until you get there and see a familiar figure walking from the parking lot, a motorcycle parked among the few cars

-You notice that there are two helmets now

-And one of them is your favorite color

-Something you’d told him months ago when you were playing a silly 20 questions game to pass the last hour of your shift

-And he’d obviously remembered, or just gotten lucky and guessed

-The smile automatically lands on your face

-He very rarely comes at the beginning of your shift, he’s a very busy man, afterall.

-“Oh shit, y/n, RM’s here.”

-You haven’t stopped watching the tall man, and his gaze hits yours, and he waves, a smile starting to grow before it lands on your companion.

-He tries not to assume again, because last time he’d assumed your brother was your boyfriend

-“Yeah, he’s here pretty often.” You look over at Soonyoung in time to miss RM’s glare at the boy.

-Soonyoung, who hasn’t missed the glare, glances at you. “I’ll stay until he leaves.”

-He’s determined, and you can see it, and before you can tell him that you’d literally never been safer than when Namjoon was around, you’re walking in the doors and you have to go clock in.

-Soonyoung goes to look for his references, very obviously keeping an eye on RM

-Unfortunately for him, the references he needs are a few aisles away from him, so he can’t watch him forever, and, about 30 minutes later, he’s alarmed to see RM leaning against your desk, laughing and grinning

-You’d dissuaded his fear before he’d even voiced it this time

-“Soonyoungs’s not my boyfriend either, you know.” You’d said as he’d approached with the same guarded look. “He’s just a friend who needed a few references for a paper our professor assigned”

-He’d brightened again, and decided to try and play nice

-Even if the guy is a rival

-Soonyoung thinks he’s making inappropriate advances because you look a little scandalized, but he can’t tell that you’re also laughing at the smiling guy in front of you

-Your friend slides in, all cool confidence, doing everything he can to edge between Namjoon and your counter.

-“Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

-You watch as the smile slides quickly from his face and is replaced by the expression he wore when he’d seen your brother-- expressionless, mildly intimidating, cold.

-“I’m getting a book and talking to y/n. What are you doing here, Hoshi?”

-One glance over Soonyoung’s shoulder told Namjoon that you had no idea about your friend’s gang affiliation.

-Soonyoung, who didn’t want you to find out this way, but was determined to protect you, regardless, stood his ground, “Y/N and I are friends and I came with her.”

-He doesn’t want RM to know where you go to school, that could open up a whole world of trouble.

-RM looks Hoshi up and down, before cracking a smile. “Ok. I guess I’ll just go look at my books over here.”

-He doesn’t want to start a fight in the library, but oh boy does he want to start a fight with this guy

-So he’s making it very clear that he’s not intimidated

-He doesn’t expect Soonyoung’s next words

-Neither do you, honestly.

-“I think I’ll join you.”

-This man is trying not to scare you, but he’s gotta get the point across to the Wings boss that you are Off Limits and Protected™

-You watch, astounded, as your two friends go off together

-You still haven’t really put the connection together that Soonyoung is in a gang

-Why would you, he doesn’t necessarily look like a gang member.

-He’s pretty delicate looking, and he doesn’t have a lot of piercings or tattoos like Namjoon, and he’s never done anything or given you any sign that he might be affiliated

-You go back to your work though, occasionally glancing at the guys

-Namjoon is facing you and catches your eye to send grins

-Otherwise they glare at each other over their books

-You’re getting more and more confused

-What had happened?

-They both stay to the end of your shift-- neither leaving before the other

-So they both end up helping you close up

-Soonyoung fails to notice how RM knows what to do and has obviously done it before

-They both wait for you to lock up, staring at each other and daring the other to leave.

-When you turn around, their gazes don’t move. “Ok, I think I’ll leave you two to get a room…”

-It’s mostly a joke, but you still brush past them

-It’s a joke because you’re not ready to walk home alone yet

-And you were really hoping the second helmet meant that Namjoon was going to take you home again

-And you got paid that day so you were kinda hoping you could pay him back with a quick dinner

-The joke snaps them out of it and Namjoon reaches out to (gently) catch your arm

-But Soonyoung doesn’t like that

-“Get your fucking hands off her!”

-He shoves Namjoon and steps between the two of you

-But now RM is mad

-This is the second guy who assumed he’d ever hurt you

-And that’s pretty offensive given that he’d literally let you run a bus over him -When i say the guy is whipped

-The first was your brother, which he excused. Brothers are allowed to be protective

-But this guy is another gang member and has tried to stake a claim on you that he doesn’t have any right to

-Back off, Hoshi, you’re going to scare Y/N.”

-Namjoon keeps his voice level because he really doesn’t want to scare you, especially given the events of the other night

-A glance at you would reveal that you’re really not scared, you’re just confused

-“Soonyoung-”

-You don’t get to finish your sentence because the fucker interrupts you

-Now you’re kinda mad

-“I’m just trying to keep her safe. She didn’t appreciate your flirting earlier, so just catch the fucking hint, asshole.”

-He turns and grabs your arm this time. “Y/N, let me walk you home.” You just look at him. This man just made a lot of presumptions about your life without talking to you and you don’t really appreciate it.

-“Actually, Soonyoung, RM is my friend, and I don’t like what you’re implying about him.”

-You’re kinda glaring

-Namjoon thinks you might be referring to the part where Soonyoung said he was flirting

-He was definitely flirting

-He’s a had a huge crush on you for a while

-He’s still angry at Hoshi but now he feels a bit like a kicked puppy too

-Oh well

-More emotion to take out on Hoshi

-But then you’re really glaring when Soonyoung pulls you closer

-“Y/N, that guy isn’t the kind to defend. You don’t know him, not really.

-Let’s go, we can talk more on our way to your apartment.

-He’s never been to your apartment

-And you don’t necessarily think he’d do anything

-But you kinda get a weird feeling about him going there.

-You wiggle out of his grasp and step towards Namjoon

-“No, Soonyoung, it’s fine, you go on.”

-Soonyoung is very determined not to leave you with RM

-“Y/N, c’mon, let’s just go.”

-He reaches for you again

-“I’m pretty sure the girl said no, Soonyoung. Go on home, and tell the other Diamonds that she’s officially under Wings protection.”

-Namjoon’s voice is pretty deep, and he puts his hand on your shoulder

-Which means he feels you flinch when you hear about the Diamonds

-The whole interaction makes more sense

-And you know why Namjoon called him Hoshi earlier

-But damn are you pissed that he didn’t tell you

-You step closer to Namjoon, bumping into his chest, when Soonyoung steps closer to you again, his face very apologetic and obviously trying to make amends.

-You’re not afraid of him, he can’t hurt you when literally the scariest gang leader is standing right there and just blatantly said you’re under his protection

-But you definitely don’t want him to touch you right now

-He looks a little hurt but backs off.

-You put your hand on Namjoon’s and turn your head up to look at his face

-“Can you give me another ride home?”

-The look he returns to you fills your heart. It’s so tender, damnit.

-“Of course. Do you want to go wait by my bike?”

-You nod and start to walk toward the parking lot.

-That is, until Soonyoung yells very angrily

-“Oh! I see! You’re RM’s whore, that’s how you got Wings protection-”

-The fool doesn’t even finish the sentence before Namjoon is shooting his fist out to meet Soonyoung’s jaw

-The fight breaks out quickly, and you stand shocked for a second

-Obviously you had seen fights before

-But Namjoon, no, RM, is absolutely wailing on Soonyoung, who looks like he’s reaching for somethi-

-A gun

-He’s reaching for a gun

-And you look up at the security cameras

-And you really don’t want the police asking you questions

-Especially because you must seem very familiar with two guys who have gang affiliations in the footage

-You also don’t want Namjoon to get hurt

-Like you really don’t -So you start screaming at them

-“Stop! Jesus fuck, both of you, just stop!” You try to move in to pull one off the other, but a poorly aimed limb hits you instead (you’re pretty sure it was Soonyoungs, but you can’t be certain). “RM! Soonyoung! Stop!”

-When you spot the gun, your screaming becomes a little more frantic.

-When you said you wanted to return the favor, you didn’t mean patching him up after a fight

-“RM! RM! Stop! Soonyoung! Stop!”

-Neither seem to hear you, and you can’t get in to pull one of them off the other, so you try something else.

-Honestly, it’s a longshot

-And you’re hoping you don’t hurt either of them

-Because you’ve got some heavy books in there that could give them a concussion

-But you just need to shock them enough to get them to stop

-You throw your bookbag at them

-It hits both, thankfully, so they both get distracted

-They’re still locked in the same positions, but now they’re both staring at you, their chests heaving

-Your chest is as well, but that’s out of panic more than exertion

-“Both of you, stop it. I don’t need the cops at my door asking me questions because I openly interact with you and you kill one another. Nope, no thank you.” You take a deep breath because now that shit seems a little de-escalated, your heart needs to calm the fuck down. “Soonyoung, go the fuck home, and don’t ever talk to me again. Return your books during someone else’s shift, don’t talk to me during class, just, don’t ever fucking talk to me again. I’m no one’s whore.” You glare at him with every ounce of anger in your body

-Which, to be fair, is a whole lot

-He lied to you, didn’t listen to you, didn’t respect your boundaries or when you told him no, and then called you a whore.

-“Y/N, look I-“

-RM, who has let him go and moved to stand in front of you again, opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it

-“I said go, Hoshi.”

-He tosses one more glare RM’s way before turning around. He walks off and for a second neither you or Namjoon move.

-Then you let out a sigh of relief when his form disappears around a corner -Namjoon immediately turns to you, hesitantly reaching out a hand to cradle your face and check if you’re okay

-“I’m fine.” He still looks at you, very concerned. “Really, I’m fine. I’m not the one who just got into a fist fight.”

-You start scanning your eyes over his face. You couldn’t see much in the low light, but you caught a cut by his eye, where the skin was darkening already.

-Otherwise he looked fine

-You couldn’t see the rest of him though

-And honestly, if you saw the rest of him…

-You probably wouldn’t be looking for injuries

-Let’s be honest

-“Joon, your eye…”

-You reach your hand up to brush your fingers over the cut, and you don’t even realize that you’ve just called him Joon

-But damn, he did. He doesn’t realize it but he’s holding his breath, and he’s staring at you with wide eyes and oh wow he might be in love is this what love feels like? It has to be because he can’t be this excited about a nickname unless it’s from someone he loves

-A couple of other people call him Joon

-It’s not that complicated of a nickname

-But he doesn’t get this feeling when they call him Joon

-You notice that he’s staring at you after a second of him not saying anything and you give him a more concerned look “Namjoon are you okay?”

-He starts breathing again, but kinda only because little black dots start appearing in his vision and he doesn’t want to scare you

-“I-I’m fine, y/n. Um, what did you just call me?”

-You get shy

-You really hadn’t realized you said it, but Namjoon just seems so formal sometimes and you wanted to give him a nickname

-Also you’ve been calling him Joon in your head for a while

-But only sometimes, not all the time

-Only when you were thinking about how cute his dimple smile is

-Or when you thought about that one time he hugged you -It was the day after your birthday a few months ago

-He’d found out because he’d come in on your birthday (he didn’t even want a book, he literally just wanted to see you)

-But you had asked your coworker to cover so you could spend the day with some friends and brother

-The official excuse was that you had a doctor’s appointment and it was the only time they could fit you in for a few months

-He’d been pretty concerned (and very disappointed) so he’d asked your coworker

-She worked the shift with you sometimes and knew the two of you got on well

-So she just shrugged and said it was your birthday

-She figured he wouldn’t snitch on you

-Also she really wants you two to get together

-Because she can see how he looks at you

-It’s literally like you hung the moon

-This man goes out and panic buys chocolate and a little plushie that he thinks is really cute and that you’ll love

-You do. You love both

-When he gives it to you, you’re really shocked, though

-Because you didn’t know that he knew when your birthday was

-And you didn’t expect him to care that much

-You should have realized then that he was coming into the library just to see you sometimes

-You’re really shocked, though, and you kinda run into his chest and give him a hug

-And he just wraps his arms around you

-And it’s the nicest hug you’ve had in a while

-Because he’s so much bigger than you

-And his arms are so warm and gentle and strong and safe

-Anyway, so you weren’t really calling him Joon that often, right? Just whenever you thought about him...

-You step away from him and drop your hand, wrapping your arms around yourself

-“I called you Joon…”

-You’re silent for about .5 seconds before you start babbling

-“I’m sorry, it just kinda slipped out, but your name seemed so formal, especially since you just defended me again. I won’t call you Joon again if you don’t want me to, it could just be a one time thing if that’s what you want but I just- I- I’m sorry.” You finish lamely and look down, blush tinting your cheek

-He cradles your face tenderly, guiding your eyes back up to his. “Please call me Joon again, Y/N. There is almost nothing I’d like you to call me more than Joon. In fact, please forget you have ever heard any other name for me.”

-He gives you that soft grin you’ve only ever seen when he looks at you, and it’s your turn to freeze

-His eyes are sparkling with affection and mirth

-And his hand against your cheek is warm

-And are you crazy or is he moving closer?

-He’s absolutely moving closer

-Oh my god oh my god oh my god

-His lips are soft, and honestly, you’d hardly call it a kiss, more like a barely-there brush of lips

-There aren’t any of the fireworks or sparks you read about in all those romance novels

-But it raises goosebumps all over your body

-He pulled back just a little to catch your reaction, his eyes holding a little bit of anxiety about being rejected

-You blink up at him owlishly before raising yourself up to meet his lips with yours again

-You keep it soft, trying to transmit your feelings through the kiss

-You break away a moment later, smiling softly “Do you maybe want to go get some coffee or dinner or something? My treat.” You ask softly, aware of the bare amount of space between you

-He grins, straightening and taking your hand to walk towards his motorcycle

-“There’s nothing I’d like more in this moment, Y/N.”

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warsofasoiaf · 5 years ago

Text

The Celtic Tiger - A Kaiserreich Ireland AAR Chapter 4: Soldiers Are We

“Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him through temporary periods of joy.” -W.B. Yeats

---

4 January 1939 - Economic Session of the Dail, Dublin, Ireland

Michael Collins had been debating initiatives to help smooth things over with the Ulster Unionists in the North. He had already revitalized plenty of the region’s industrial base, Harland and Wolff and the Short Brothers Aerospace PLC were employing plenty of people in Belfast, but the new American refugees had caused a great deal of cultural friction. The Unionist Party was never particularly quiet about their opinions on the state of affairs, but things were actively getting worse in Northern Ireland.

“We should expand the steel initiative.” Collins had addressed the Dail in the annual IEAA meeting. “Producing steel domestically will allow us to better manage supply shortages in the event that our trade is cut off, and domestic steel production will be invaluable to the factories and shipyards. Belfast has made a compelling point, they have a significant amount of steelworking knowledge and experience that would meet the target goals faster than they would in other regions. Belfast will reclaim her old mantle as our very own Steel City. The Open For Business Initiative has put us significantly in the black this past year, we can afford to invest heavily in steel production in Ulster along with zinc mining in our rural provinces. That should keep us in boom times and diversify our economic base, in case any post-Black Monday bubbles pop.”

Privately, Collins was more concerned with placating the Unionists. They had been complaining that Dublin was largely favored over Belfast, and that the Open for Business Initiative was an attempt to lure away the young workers of Northern Ireland to Dublin where they would lose their culture, and their voices, largely swallowed up by the Catholic voters. Violent crime was steadily rising in Belfast, the victims being either Catholics or American refugees, or reprisal attacks by Catholics. If there was a war, he could not reliably count on Ulster, even in the face of aggression from the Union. That was a pity. That had been the British strategy against Ireland, divide and conquer. Something would have to give very soon, no amount of economic bandaging was going to resolve the core tension within Ulster - they did not see themselves as part of an Irish Republic.

An aide burst into the meeting hall, causing a minor clamor and it took some time to restore order. The aide burst out breathlessly. “The Union, sir, they’re steaming out of port. The RMS Rebecca is going full-speed at our destroyers in the Irish Sea.” The poor fellow could barely complete a full sentence, his stammering professed an almost lack of belief in what was happening.

“Have they declared war?” Collins asked. The Union and Ireland did not have normalized relations, but that did not mean no information passed between the two countries. G2, the Directorate of Military Intelligence routinely monitored diplomatic intentions within Mosley’s government. Of all the espionage work performed by the Directorate, the Union accounted for almost fifty percent of its foreign operations, perhaps even more.

“No, sir. No word.”

What was frightening about Mosley’s intentions was how much sense it made to Collins. Mosley and Deat, despite their opposition to each other, had stressed the urgency of the revolution at their electoral campaigns, and had prosecuted an aggressive foreign policy to export syndicalism to the world. Both had turned inwards, Deat had been particularly violent in his purging of Blum and Gamelin, and they believed now that without dissent, they would not have naysayers and fifth columnists betraying their governments. By all accounts, their countries were ready to stand at the forefront of a global transformation. Yet the results were not successful. France and Britain had been completely humiliated in the Second American Civil War, with Reed about to face a war crimes tribunal. The Commune of France had threatened to annex Savoy only to have Switzerland seek German support and membership within the Reichspakt, and Deat had backed down. A defeat, militarily, within Europe, would be a disaster, evidence of endemic weakness of the Internationale’s new leadership.

Ireland would have been Mosley’s choice for a target. The stunning growth of the Irish economy and rise in the Irish standard of living would be an ideological foe, proof perhaps, that another way would be better. It was close to Britain and far from Mosley’s foes in Germany, Canada, and the United States. Its army and navy were tiny, compared to the Union’s. If they hurried, it could be a fait accompli no matter what any of the other great powers would do.

Collins thought for a moment. Ireland had benefited significantly from its neutrality between Entente and Reichspakt, not the least of which because it hadn’t been drawn into Germany’s wars as it had in Ukraine. The Open for Business Initiative never would have succeeded had Ireland been fully within the German sphere, and trade with the Entente had pacified the Anglophiles in the Centre Party. It was a natural pivot point that Ireland, as the middleman, could profit from. But an invasion of Ireland would see Ireland severely outnumbered in manpower and industrial capacity.

“Get ahold of Admiral O’Muiris, have him mine the Irish Sea. Conduct a full investigation of the radar stations and anti-aircraft batteries, I want them in perfect working condition yesterday. No more drills, our men must go immediately to battle positions. See what we can learn about any invasion plans, put G2 on it; if they’re planning to land, I want to know where so we can put enough guns to turn their landing craft to splinters.” Collins spoke as if it were 20 years ago, as if he was that same man, ready to fight the last time the British refused the demand of Irish independence. “Also, let’s see if there are others as willing to fight for Ireland as we are, start with the Kaiser.”

“And if he isn’t?”

“We look farther then. Look to Canada if you have to.”

“Are you going to invite the Windsors back in?”

“Not for a moment, but sometimes you must deal with devils. ”

---

25 January 1939 - Áras an Uachtaráin, Dublin, Ireland

It was the worst possible news.

The Kaiser had been unable to provide support for Ireland. The Vozhd was threatening the Baltic Duchy and White Ruthenia with his goal of one land for all the Russian people, and Wilhelm II would not abandon them for a western war, especially not one who was not in the Reichspakt. Canada too, could not commit to protecting Ireland, as they were engaged in a large-scale war in India with the Princely Federation. The United States was still deep into Reconstruction, President Garner would not deploy the badly-battered US Army into a foreign campaign when there were still cholera outbreaks and people dying of exposure. They were all perfectly reasonable excuses, but it led Collins to an inescapable conclusion: Ireland was on its own.

No doubt Mosley was jumping for joy. His ambitions would not be curtailed by the major anti-syndicalist factions. Protests certainly arose, even within the Union itself, but Mosley had been able to quell them with daily speeches against Ireland, lambasting the nation for its capitalist economic policies, its embargo of British goods, and the ethnic tensions between Ulster and the rest of Ireland, which Mosley alleged to be inspired by Stephen X and a precursor to the establishment of a Catholic theocratic state. He had harshly criticized Dan McKenna, accusing him and the Thunderbolts of war crimes, summary executions of British volunteers, and torture of Union prisoners; a pointed criticism given that McKenna was soon to return to the United States to give his testimony on Welfare Island and the atrocities that had taken place in the Mississippi Delta.

Collins had established the Mosley Gan Mosley program on 2RN in response, with Irish comedians regularly mocking Mosley’s wild proclamations and providing evidence against his more spurious claims. Collins ensured that the broadcasts were transmitted on a wide band toward the British Isles, focusing on Scotland and Wales as the Autonomists had chafed under Mosley’s centralization and embrace of British nationalism. Collins directed the program to emphasize Mosley’s speeches as expressions of old British imperialism in the hopes of creating public unrest at home. He wondered if it was working at all, or if he was simply trying to give everyone a laugh before the end.

The days after the German and Canadian refusal had been a tense form of limbo. The An tAerchór only had a few fighter planes with limited training, nothing compared to the British Republican Air Force. Sending up pilots would be risky, and casualties would be high. The An tSeirbhís Chabhlaigh was only slightly better off. The cruisers and destroyers were unlikely to match the British Navy in naval combat, but the submarines could pose a serious threat, and advances in naval mines would help cause further casualties among the landing craft. There was no getting around it, the Irish did not have the ability to contest the seas and so would be forced to repel the invasion with their ground forces. Civilians had been preparing for the coming disaster with air raid drills. Last-minute preparations for war were almost all that Collins could hope for, war would come, and Ireland would be alone.

“To ensure the liberation of the working class from the chains of oppressive and exploitative political and economic systems in the pursuit of global peace has been the compelling and continuing mission of the Socialist Union of Britain. To cultivate friendly relationships with nations likewise dedicated to the emancipation of those enslaved peoples and continue to progress toward the prosperity of mankind has always been the foundation of our foreign policy.

Wherefore the government of Michael Collins has engaged and continues to engage in an economic and political system within the Republic of Ireland that deprives the Irish Worker of the fruits of his labor and depends upon his continued shackling to the dictates of Capital in violation of the Internationale Declaration of Human Rights. In pursuit of its goals against the working class, the Irish Republican government has illegally prohibited the Irish Worker to establish a political party to advance their interests in violation of the 1925 Irish Constitution’s declaration of freedom of association by banning the Labour Party.

The Socialist Union of Britain, in defense of the Irish Worker, therefore demands the reformation of the Irish government to that of a Regional Provincial Workers Council to be directly administered under the oversight of the Trades Union Congress and in accordance with the laws and principles of the Socialist Union of Britain.”

Yet, instead of an immediate declaration of war, Mosley had elected to send words, much to Collins's surprise. For a moment, the Taioseach wondered why Mosley had even bothered, such was the extent of his demands. Perhaps it was to spare himself a war while the Internationale conserved their fighting strength for other targets, or perhaps it was a compromise asked by France. Maybe Mosley thought that Ireland would surrender and he could one-up Deat who had failed to have his ultimatum obeyed. As he had read the words, Collins had almost torn the paper in anger, and among the ministers he had invited to the closed session, he had seen similar expressions on their faces. They may have disagreed on everything else, but not on this.

“The Republic of Ireland will not submit to the colonial dictates of Oswald Mosley. We consider these demands completely illegitimate and a violation of the sovereignty of the independent Republic of Ireland and the government recognized by the Irish people. The Irish Republic is a free and independent nation, and shall not surrender to the British yoke that has for centuries defined the history of Ireland with cruelty and deprivation. We demand the unequivocal cessation of all hostilities against the Republic of Ireland, the immediate removal of British ships from Irish territorial waters, and the abrogation of all demands and claims against the island of Ireland. We also call on the Third Internationale to condemn such a demand and reconsider their relationship with an aggressive nation dedicated to a mission of subjugation.”

Collins was sure that would get Mosley’s anger up. His support of the Anti-Colonialist movement could not abide a direct challenge by naming him the colonist that his government had spoken so long about overthrowing. The Union fixated upon proving that they were not the old British Empire, that they were a modern, just triumph over backward authoritarianism. Questioning the Union’s place in the Internationale was sure to cause some stir as well. South America had long spoken against European colonialism, and Chile had considered itself a bastion of colonial liberation within the continent. Even though Chile had not joined the Internationale, their success in Latin America and their support of Britain and France’s mission had mattered greatly within left-wing intellectual circles; it was their testament against accusations of colonialism. Robbing Mosley of Chilean support could cause unrest at home and with other syndicalist nations like Burma, and perhaps end his expansionist ambitions on Ireland.

Collins was only half-right. None of the major syndicalist nations saw fit to criticize Mosley, neither Chile, nor Burma, nor France, nor the Socialist Republic of Italy in Torino had seen fit to condemn Mosley’s action, nor was any independent comment from the Third Syndicalist Internationale forthcoming, at least not any that Collins had seen or heard. What was true is that Mosley was furious. He had read the Irish response out loud in the Trade Union Congress, and had immediately moved for a declaration of war. It had not been a request, not that any would oppose him after his centralizing purges in ‘37 and ‘38, but the British people were fired up. The declaration of war had been delivered, and almost immediately, planes began flying overhead, and the air raid sirens gave their low bleak wail. For a moment, Collins was certain that he could hear them as a banshee’s wail, and wondered whose death warrant he had just signed.

---

28 March 1939 - Command Bunker, Dublin, Ireland

It had been months since the declaration of war, and bombing missions had been flown against Ireland daily. The anti-aircraft guns and radar stations did their part, but the Union still commanded the skies. They had prioritized strategic bombing, hitting factories, port facilities, and coastal fortresses, but any target would do in a pinch. Each day, Collins made sure to hear the casualty counts, and each day he would address the nation by radio, encouraging them to continue to fight on. Every man, woman, and child had been doing their part. The Union had done a good job choking the imports of steel in an attempt to starve the Irish industrial machine. Air raid shelters had been a regular part of construction during the massive push for industrialization, and for that Collins had been grateful for what foresight he had. Even one life saved was worth it, but thousands had been spared being killed or maimed in a night raid or building collapse. That was small comfort, because fewer people dying still meant people were dying on his watch, soldiers and civilians alike.

G2 had conducted countless missions against the Union. Infiltrating the Army and Marine Corps were a top priority, any landing or invasion plans were a high priority for their agents. It had been a difficult endeavor, but Nancy Stewart, a Union turncoat who had lost her family members in Mosley’s purges and had been recruited to G2 as a local asset, had outdone herself. She had spoken to an overworked member of base security, stolen his keys and identification card, and had snuck it to her colleagues after drugging the man’s gin and dragging him home posing as his girlfriend. From there, Nancy and Rachael O’Brien, who had been recruited from the Cumann na mBan as part of Collins’s efforts to recruit sabotage experts for the Irish intelligence services, had been able to copy the plans all night before sneaking out the next morning, returning everything that they had left before their victim recovered from his night. The plans had been scheduled for late June, to land in the Clew Bay and Killary Harbor, on the west of Ireland.

Surprise was the Union’s primary goal, the territory in that region was a difficult landing, but if the Union soldiers were able to land and fortify, they could use the terrain to repulse an attack, perhaps even establish a breakout while forces had to cross the River Shannon and potentially seize Irish fortifications. The Republican Army was not concentrated in County Mayo, the likely destination would be on the east coast and it was there that they fortified with machine guns and artillery. The Union elected to launch from Cornwall, with a diversionary operation from Liverpool and the Isle of Man. Admiral O’Muiris elected to keep a defensive posture in a double-bluff; he didn’t want to risk any of his few ships on pursuing the Republican feint but kept his ships close to make it seem that he had not known about the Galway-Mayo landings. He didn’t like it, but if they could push back the attack, it might force Mosley to abort his attempt.

Tom Barry had stationed his men in Sligo and Galway city, waiting for forward observers to spot the landings on the western coast. The 1st Armored Division and the 2nd ‘Spearhead’ infantry would strike from Galway, while a mobilized force of cavalry Gardai would strike from surprise from the northeast. The 1st Thunderbolts were given the most difficult position, to fight a pre-dawn attack against the northern landing. Once they had attacked and cleared the beaches, they would march south and attack the main landing zone where the beaches were longer and flatter, supporting the most landing forces. Collins had hoped that he could bombard the beaches to oblivion, pinning the British invasion force soon after it had landed, and destroying their landing craft so they could not retreat.

The landings were commanded by Thomas Wintringham, who had decided to primarily use regular army forces. He had petitioned Mosley for more men, but as that would have compromised the Welsh and Cornwall defensive region, so he was forced to call upon the West Lowlands Home Guard to fill out the invasion. In the middle of the night, the British had attempted to make the landings, but the currents had taken several of the landing craft off course to Galway, where a general alarm had been sounded and the landing craft subject to a heavy barrage. The anti-aircraft turrets weren’t able to be redirected toward the sea, but the river defenses on the Claddagh had utilized static artillery and machine gun pillboxes to create killzones, and the ports within Galway city had been blockaded.

The mobilized Gardai Síochána and the 1st Thunderbolts moved to their northern position, and Barry began to push with a combined infantry and armor push toward the main landing zones. As it was a night landing, the Republican Air Force was unable to provide air support to its invasion zones. The Thunderbolts had marched all night and shot the Mayo landing forces to pieces as they arrived, keeping in contact with radio and light signals, before turning south to attack the main landing point. The 1st Armored advanced rapidly with light tanks before abruptly turning. Ground forces commanders, thinking that the Irish attack had been aborted because the tanks had outpaced their infantry, had attempted a shock charge to attack the Irish armor when they were out of position. Having advanced quickly, Barry closed the net, attacking with the South Mayo Flying Column and the 2nd Spearhead Division as the light tanks returned to repair the damage they had sustained during the light engagement. The ambush had taken the Union forces completely by surprise, and they were scattered, allowing Tom Maguire to push forward with his native Mayo forces and the Dublin Rifles toward the beach landings.

Continuing his hard push, Barry repeatedly probed the Union lines on the beaches, following up weakpoints with infiltration tactics and strongpoints with a withering suppressive barrage of artillery fire. Admiral Richard Boyle, commanding the U-Boats, attacked as the sun began to give visibility, sinking supply ships and troop transports. As the British Republican Air Force began to fly to support their mission, they had found the beaches to be a disaster area, littered with dead Union soldiers and destroyed Union equipment. The Union soldiers had fought tenaciously, but ultimately could not break out of the beachhead. As the hours stretched on, eventually the divisions surrendered. The first invasion of Ireland had been successfully repulsed.

Collins hadn’t been able to sleep, and paced in his command center the night of the march no matter what he tried. Mulcahy had opted to handle the long wait and let Collins try to get a few hours of sleep on a cot, but neither man believed that such a thing could really happen. When the news had come, Collins had listened to Maguire’s report almost dumbfounded, as if he expected to be woken up at any time. A complete success on all fronts, the British invasion had been foiled, and Irish casualties had been exceptionally low. Killed and wounded, Ireland had suffered just short of 3,000 casualties, roughly evenly split among the divisions in theater. The Union had suffered over 111,000 killed or captured in the failed raid, and what few weren’t captured were isolated and fleeing for their lives in the Irish countryside. It had been an overwhelming victory.

“My God, we certainly gave them a bloody nose.” Mulcahy, just as stunned as Collins himself, nodded approvingly.

“Then let us hope all it takes is a bloody nose.” Collins replied glumly.

---

“To conclude, what I witnessed in my almost-two years of volunteer service within the Second American Civil War was commitment in its best and worst forms. The Federal government, armed forces, and civilians of the United States had acted in devotion to their government and their mission, preserving their country and Constitution. Its reverse was true of its foes, a commitment to the annihilation of those who did not fit within their vision.” -Daniel McKenna, closing remarks, Denver Trials

McKenna didn’t belong here. Mosley had tried to invade his homeland. Every man was needed to fight. It was only a direct order from Michael Collins that had sent him to the United States. “We need foreign support more than we need one more general. The Thunderbolts will be well-led, you have my word. If the truth can come out about what had happened in New York, then we can push for further support. Your actions may help the war effort far more than back here in the homeland.”

McKenna thought the idea was sound, but he wasn’t seeing it pan out. Foreign support wouldn’t be pouring in, what had happened in the United States was already known and rationalized away. It was closure for the Americans, perhaps, but abstract notions of justice being punished hardly mattered when real Irish men and women were dying from British bombs. He had gone because he was a soldier and that meant obeying the orders of his commander-in-chief. McKenna had hoped that he could give a quick testimony and return, but he had been approached by the Irish-American Aid Association to give speeches to raise funds to donate supplies for Ireland. The United States was still recovering, but there were plenty of descendants from the Irish diaspora who were willing to donate food, money, and weapons to the Irish cause. That was something at least, some good had to come from this excursion.

McKenna remained in Denver as the tribunal judges deliberated their verdict. Reporters had hounded him the second he stepped out of his hotel until the second he stepped back in, even preventing him from enjoying any meals, calling them a bunch of cicadas in private. However, he was surprised to meet the reporter that he had met in New York covering the Denver Trials. Ruth Sofer had become a minor celebrity for her coverage of Welfare Island, and had resolved to write about the victims and perpetrators of the Second Civil War. “In my view, anything less would be cowardly, and I’ve been told I have an ironclad heart.“ Over dinner, Sofer interviewed McKenna, not only asking him further about Welfare Island, but telling him what she had learned in interviewing members of the Union State and Combined Syndicates who had been guilty of categorical atrocity, and what could have motivated them to do such a thing. It had sickened McKenna to his stomach, but no battle was too difficult for a soldier, and he obeyed his orders.

McKenna had wanted to return to Ireland quickly, but felt compelled to stay to help Sofer until she had finished her manuscript. Her book, Superfluous People, was a chilling examination of the systems of the two rebel movements within the Second American Civil War, their conceptions of a new transformation of reality in a form of secular millenarianism. Most of the second section of the book detailed the rationalizations regarding those to be left out of the new world, and the philosophies of the movements that originated these rationalizations, and the appeals both real and imagined that gave strength to these movements. The third and final section detailed the jump from theory to practice, exhaustively compiled through interviews of ground-level commanders that oversaw these eliminations in action. Notably, Sofer expounded at length on the Federal government in permitting Jim Crow legislation in the South as the foundation for groups like the Silver Legion.

Once the manuscript had been completed, only then did McKenna, hitching a ride on a supply ship from the Irish-American Aid Association, return home, to take up the command of his Thunderbolts once again.

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12 June 1939 - Forward Command Post, Carrick-On-Shannon

After the failed invasion of Connacht, Mosley had blamed the militia system of the Trade Union Congress, finding the failure of the invasion to principally be the fault of the militia system’s poor organization. To Mosley, the inability of the Union Army to probably organize into a coherent and effective fighting force prevented them from successfully managing the Irish counter-attack until the greater numbers of the British army could land. Mosley dissolved the militias and established a more formalized military with an established central command structure. Officers could no longer be elected by fellow soldiers, Mosley had instead integrated soldier assent via the promotion board and mandated promotion in part on merit and ability to accomplish objectives.

Mosley also reached out to the Communards across the Channel. Deat had not supported Mosley’s invasion of Ireland initially, but he was eager to demonstrate the prowess of the Communard Army. He had anticipated Mosley seeking help, but had thought it would have been more for occupation duties, and had planned for landing from Brittany to land in County Cork on the southern side of Ireland in the middle of August. The initial attacks were mere probing attempts, to see the Munster defenses and better analyze how best to invade Ireland. The weather conditions were right on the 15th of August. Unlike the earlier British invasion, the Communard elected on a daylight landing so their airpower could support the ground invasion. The increased visibility meant the Fenian Rams were able to find the French landings, sinking several troop transports and escort vessels and sinking before the destroyers and naval bombers could attack. Despite the navy’s efforts, French forces were also able to land at Baltimore and in a pasture in County Wexford after being shelled by Irish Republican forces in Waterford. The Dublin Rifles and 3rd ‘Black Badgers’ Division attacked in the Battle of the Sheepfold, where the lack of cover led to high casualties on both sides. The Baltimore landings fared little better, the rocky and open ground provided little cover, and the Irish forces were hard-pressed until reinforcements were trucked in from Limerick.

The landings had similarly failed, though Deat had committed few forces and his troops were far more successful than Mosley’s initial foray. Deat had demanded that Wintringham coordinate with the Communard army for a joint invasion of Connacht. Collins had been able to repulse the Communard landings because his forces, not pressured on multiple fronts, had been able to relieve each other. Overwhelming numerical force would be able to do what smaller forces could not. As Ireland was considered Union territory and the Commune required most of its divisions along the border with the Kaiserreich, the Union would supply most of the manpower for the invasion, although the supreme commander would be from the Communard Army. Union and Communard planes and ships would combine for the endeavor, to support landings from County Claire to Sligo.

The larger invasion force did succeed in its goals. Mosley’s centralization efforts had restructured the militias into an effective and organized fighting force. By standardizing equipment and radio procedures, the Union had been able to break through at Clew Bay, getting off the exposed beach. The Donnelly Division had been scattered, and the French were able to land in County Mayo and attack Sligo after a ferocious onslaught of terror bombing. The initial objectives only sought to reach the River Shannon, as the fortifications made crossing the river a daunting task. The Union took Galway after three days of fighting, Irish Republicans had retreated to the forests and hills outside of the urban centers. After five days, almost the entire province of Connacht was under Communard control. In Sligo and Galway, the Irish tricolor was lowered from the city halls and replaced with the hammer and torch of the Union of Britain, and the Internationale was sung.

The Internationale also executed Irish Republican prisoners. A captain of the 1st Thunderbolts was singled out as a particularly grave offender, accused of having committed war crimes against Union volunteers in Philadelphia during the Second American Civil War. During his impromptu tribunal hearing, he loudly denied the charges against him, demanded hard evidence be presented instead of “self-serving lies from a nation of cowards,” and accused the Internationale of being mass murderers, imperialists, and “the bootlicking spawn of Oliver Cromwell,” disrupting the impromptu tribunal to the point where it was impossible to convene any proper hearing. During the occupation of Connacht, hundreds of civilians were executed. Some were executed for supporting Irish Republican partisan activity or giving supplies to holdout forces, some were members of the Catholic clergy, some others for not turning over foodstuffs to the Internationale army, and yet others were executed after being identified as business owners or landlords by native Irish socialists. The accused were given drumhead trials, their property seized, and hanged from lamposts.

When the news out of Connacht reached Collins, he ordered an effort to retake the lost province. That night, Richard Mulcahy, Hugo MacNeill, and Tom Barry outlined their combined plan to surround and eliminate the invaders, called Operation Execution Ground. A night march along the Atlantic Way from Derry to Sligo led by Barry and Maguire, a march north along the River Shannon toward Sligo for Dublin forces, and the main force pushing up toward Galway from their previous positions in Munster led by MacNeill. The Thunderbolts and Black Badgers, the elite infantry units of the Irish Republican Army, would bloody the Commune in Sligo, while the 2nd Spearheads would seize and destroy stockpiles and command posts that led from Sligo to the Mayo landing points, preventing resupply. Police volunteers from the Gardai offered to help encircle the Communards while the Union forces faced the main infantry force southeast of Galway. It left Belfast and Dublin critically exposed, only their naval minefields and garrison forces would protect them.

Cathal Brugha, already getting old, volunteered to lead any home guard for Dublin. Unafraid of any invasion, he insisted that regulars and volunteers support the Irish Republican Army. With a pistol in hand, he gave a stirring speech, that he would defend the Four Courts by himself if it meant that the interlopers were driven from Irish soil. Collins and Brugha took a photo of themselves, pistols in hand, standing on the steps of the Dail, saying that all Irish citizens young and old can do their part for the fight.

Liam Lynch commanded the infantry coming from the south. When he had seen the bodies in Galway, he told the troops under his command that they were not obligated to “be kind to those who have shown us their cruelty.” Both in Sligo and Galway, the Irish Republican Army ordered heavy shellings on enemy positions followed by aggressive charges. The cavalry forces and the Spearheads moved along the shore, attacking supply lines and cutting off avenues of retreat. To complete the encirclement, the Thunderbolts moved to the west, hoping to break the Communard forces first so that they would flee east into hostile territory rather than west toward the Union.

A G2 agent, masquerading as a sympathetic Irish turncoat, made contact with the Communard forces in their forward positions by the River Shannon. Carrying mock orders, G2 successfully tricked the Communard forces into believing that the Irish had seized radio equipment and were attempting to trick them into thinking that they were attacking their landing sites in an attempt to move them out of their defensive positions and ambush them. The Communards didn’t leave for several hours until communications were severed entirely, exposing the ruse. The extra time proved invaluable to the Irish Republican Army, who were able to complete their encirclement before ordering an attack from all sides. Without radio communications, and surrounded on all sides, the Communard forces were shot to pieces. Only the units hunting the partisans to the west were able to successfully rendezvous with Union forces, the rest, after a ferocious battle, surrendered en masse.

The Union forces opted to abandon Galway early, and establish a strong position near their landing zones with Communard forces that had been ambushed in the forests to the west of Sligo. Lynch continued to push aggressively with his infantry, issuing Pervetin rations to the infantry under his command to sustain the attack. As Lynch turned to support the French encirclement, the Union returned to attack the city, revealing their earlier retreat as a ruse to attack while the Irish before their armies could get into position. The Donnelly Division, who had tried to hold Galway, were almost completely destroyed as a fighting unit, losing almost half of their fighting force. A relief effort from the Spearheads was the only thing to save Galway from being overrun.

Only after the Communard Army was defeated did the army regroup and push toward Clew Bay. In the same position that the previous invasion failed, the Union and Communard forces fought a desperate defense. Eventually, the Internationale’s forces were ground down as they began to run out of ammunition and wounds began to take their toll. The news of the murdered civilians and POW’s had enraged the Irish Republican Army, and the Internationale’s landing zone was subject to intense bombardment that, in the words of one private: “seemed to be the devil’s own hand reaching out with one fell swoop to wreak his evil upon the world.” With little in the way of functional radio equipment, surrender was only possible at night when a desperate signals operator flashed Morse code using a spotlight to communicate surrender.

The aftermath of the invasion of Connacht was tragic. Prisoners were marched in chains to prisons in the center of the country, and many officers and enlisted both were sent to firing squads if they were found to have had a hand in executing Irish civilians or in stealing food from non-combatants. Confessions were broadcast around the world about what had happened in Connacht, with the Internationale virulently denying the charges, accusing the Irish of fabricating war crimes to inflame public support and justify their unjust executions of prisoners of war. Collins had barely heard the figures - eight thousand Irish soldiers had been killed or wounded, while the enemy had suffered 179,000. Most of them had been Union soldiers, about 115,000, while France had taken around 75,000. The numbers were one thing, but his people were executed by a foreign power on Irish soil. It was the subjugation of Ireland all over again. Even if they had taken back their territory, how much more would it cost? The Internationale had six times the industrial capacity and fielded far more men. Even now, there had been no indication that Deat would abandon the fight or Mosley call for a truce. Perhaps they would drown Ireland in blood, if they couldn’t have it for themselves.

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30 June 1939 - Special Joint Session of Congress, Washington D.C., United States of America

“If you will not fight for the Irish, help the Irish fight.” -Eamon “Dev” de Valera

If there was one good thing to come out of the failed invasion of Ireland, it’s that the world finally seemed to wake up to Ireland’s plight. Eamon de Valera had gone to the United States to lobby for more support, and he had been received warmly by President Garner. Warm regards, however, hadn’t translated to what Dev had actually sought, a threat from the United States to back down or face war. The Gallup polls had been encouraging: 47 percent of Americans favored unqualified economic and materiel support to include shipments of food and oil to Ireland, which went up to 57 percent when the responses included “provided it does not enter us into the war.” Most opposition had come from the thought that America still required all of its strength to rebuild, but estimates had been heartening, support for Ireland wouldn’t threaten American recovery, or so the economic analysts had said. There had been much pain suffered by the United States, but it was on the road to recovery. Major Longist guerrilla networks that were uncovered in the Lousiana bayous had been broken up, and the last remnants of the socialist resistance had been killed or arrested among the factory wreckage of Chicago’s industrial district. It was heartening to see America recovering so quickly.

Food and medical supplies, unarmed and flagged as humanitarian aid vessels, had already sailed to Ireland mostly without problems. The Union Navy demanded the right to search the ships, but Collins had threatened that if humanitarian food aid to Ireland was cut, the first people to starve would be the prisoners taken during the failed invasion. Dev had hoped to acquire more significant war support than mere food aid. Even basic equipment was starting to run bare in the depots, and bombing raids had started to take their toll on the factories. America had the industrial capacity needed to supply the Irish war effort, if it could only turn on the taps, an endless river of artillery, planes, and ships could flood the Irish Republican Army with everything it needed to fight the war.

Harry Hopkins had drawn up a bill with considerable bipartisan support, one that he hoped could both provide vital jobs for a recovering America as well as helping Ireland. Ireland could receive oil and war materiel on credit, to be returned when the war was concluded unless “the return of the equipment is made impossible due to use or damage.” Dev had asked Hopkins just how anyone was expected to return spent ammunition or artillery shells after they had been fired, answered with a simple chuckle.

Dev gave a rousing speech in the halls of the US Congress, and had specifically asked for the German and Canadian ambassadors to be invited to the session as well so that he might be able to address the Entente and the Reichspakt together. The pictures of what had happened in Connacht had risen the ire of many Americans, and shouts of “Remember Welfare Island” had frequently been shouted at pro-Ireland rallies.

“We are a small nation, and in our young history as an independent republic we have never once acted with aggression toward another nation, whether stronger or weaker. In our history we have been the victims of aggression, not its perpetrator. We have now come to yet another chapter in the long history of struggle, a new foe empowered by an industrial war that far surpasses the Weltkrieg. We have stood strong, taken with calm courage and confidence in our people, that our nation will endure. We know full well that we cannot demand any other to stand beside us, or ask that their fathers, husbands, or sons do so in their stead. We ask only that you remember Ireland, a land who with tearful hearts had her sons and daughters leave her fleeing the horrors of famine and destitution, and who welcomed many of America’s sons and daughters fleeing the horrors of war and deprivation. We ask that you remember a land with blue rivers choked with blood and oil and green fields burnt and stained red. We ask you, America, such a vast and mighty nation, to remember a nation that could be swallowed by most of your own constituent states. We ask that you remember the injustice being wrought upon her, and we ask that you remember the words of your Benjamin Franklin, about how a great nation may be reduced to a lesser one. We know firsthand how difficult the path of justice is, but acting justly has its reward.”

Transcripts of the speech, personally written by de Valera, were delivered to the Canadian and German ambassadors, with slight modifications. Instead of referencing Benjamin Franklin, Dev had referenced British and German liberal thinkers. The Canadian speech had omitted about how Ireland had a long history of oppression, instead focusing upon Union aggression wishing to expel people from their homeland. These speeches were eventually collected together, with the German Foreign Minister secretly praising de Valera for the craft of tailoring his message to his audience. The response had been beyond what de Valera had hoped. In Germany, Kaiser Wilhelm had declared the German Empire recognized the plight of Ireland, and had promised shipments of materiel protected by the Kaiserliche Merchant Marine. In Canada, the Tories were emboldened, accusing the sitting Prime Minister MacKenzie King of not doing enough to support the effort to reclaim the Home Isles, and that Ireland was fighting the Union just as the Entente had been fighting against the Totalists in the Bharatiya Commune in India. With overwhelming support, the Canadian Parliament authorized shipments of weapons to Ireland, emboldening the hawks in the Entente to push for Reclamation Day. Argentina, preparing for its own war with Chile, had independently recognized Ireland’s plight, and offered several large field guns every month to help keep the Irish in the war effort.

The shipments were invaluable, and protected by convoy systems, most of the promised aid had landed in Cork and Galway. A reporter was on hand and took a picture of marching Irish soldiers wearing the German stahlhelm and carrying the Lee-Enfield rifle. The quartermasters had difficulty initially in supplying troops in the field, as German and Canadian rifles used different calibers and parts were often not interchangeable. Eventually, units were marked as “Grey” or “Blue” by the nationality of the loaned equipment. Speaking for the cameras, Collins was in high spirits, stating: “This is the turning point in this war. The Internationale knows that it has not cowed us. While we seek a just peace and an end to hostilities, we are capable of fighting this war forever, and this commitment proves it. Neither the Reichspakt nor the Entente would provide supplies to a nation that was doomed; they would not extend credit to a nation whose defeat was inevitable. We are committed as ever before, because we know that we have already won this war.”

Privately, Collins was less enthusiastic, but he had to keep the faith. Every soldier was doing so, and Collins could do nothing less, because he was still a soldier through and through.

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17 August 1939 - G2 Headquarters, Dublin, Ireland

The new supplies were put to use almost immediately, as the Union had attempted a quick invasion at Leinster before the Irish Republican Army could field an effective response. Army engineers had not been idle, the An Balla program had established an extensive array of coastal fortresses facing the Irish Sea. Fielding only 10 divisions, the Union attack only achieved anysuccess at the earlier French landing sites in Wexford, but an aggressive counter-attack by Richard Mulcahy had achieved great results. As much as Collins didn’t like it, ceding the landing grounds to the invaders and then attacking them after they had landed was far more productive than attempting to engage them at sea. Poorly supplied and out of place, they could be driven back to the sea, and the landing crafts weren’t able to pick many back up, if at all. The casualty counts had to be discouraging for the Internationale. 2RN had made sure to broadcast the figures of killed and captured every day toward the Union, to help spread fear and discouragement among the Union’s public. They didn’t have the strength to attack the Union directly, if they were going to win they had to make the cost unbearable, and prayed that the enemy called it quits first.

G2 had launched their most audacious campaign yet in an attempt to deter the Internationale’s invasion of Ireland given the new shipments. The new Argentinian cannons had included several decoy pieces meant to be installed on mock forts to draw fire away from real artillery pieces; a technique that was invaluable in their conflict with Chile to cause the enemy to expose their position for no gain. G2 had opted to go further, and opted to make an entire phantom army. The radio office had highlighted that the expanded conscription laws, increased volunteerism in support for the war effort, and new shipments of equipment from the Great Powers had finally allowed Ireland to double the size of their armies. Dan McKenna, freshly returned from the United States, would lead this new army with the 1st Thunderbolts at its head. Taking advantage of young, patriotic artists, G2 designed inflatable tanks and prop equipment to be used for staged photo ops. To properly seed the information, G2 designed the ‘public’ news to be disseminated through the public radio waves in Ireland itself and friendly countries, including a few foreign divisions signing on for adventure and the chance to fight syndicalism. Ireland couldn’t directly claim to receive foreign volunteers, that would undoubtedly run afoul of their foreign partners, but “expatriates” would be invaluable, drawing on the formation of the United States Refugee Brigades during the Second Civil War. G2 had expertly designed one division of British emigres in Ireland electing to “fight the syndicalist menace that the crown itself would not” called the Blue Lions, and a division of German emigres called the Iron Wolves whose goal was to secure “a peaceful future for the Irish Republic and the German Empire both.” McKenna had drawn upon his experience with the Volunteer Brigades to help design the false brigades, combined with the intelligence division’s Army Department to establish a formalized command structure complete with unit patches, fake pay records, and even a speech given to the new army by McKenna himself.

To make sure that the Union got it, Ireland elected to release a few wounded POW’s back to the Union after ensuring that they had overheard the information while they were in convalescence. Not sure of how much each man could remember, G2 had made sure to release multiple POW’s. Collins himself had made the offer, suggesting that as a humanitarian gesture, certain prisoners who were well enough to be moved could be released in order to free up hospital beds for other wounded individuals. Collins had instructed his negotiators to push for a payment in gold, but to back down if pressed. Mosley had thought he had secured a win, but Collins was the man with the last laugh. The news of the new Irish army, primarily stationed in Leinster, gave Mosley reason to pause, and instead he focused his attention upon County Kerry, hoping to secure Munster and establish a secure foundation to offload more Internationale troops with a short naval trip after a successful invasion.

The trap had worked perfectly. Collins had ordered general evacuations to ensure civilians would be able to flee, and had ordered the armies to wait until the enemy had landed in order to attack. On the day of the attack, Collins had ordered the An tAerchór to fly and contest the skies from the Internationale with the new delivery of fighters and close air support aircraft from the United States. The Irish pilots were not well-trained, but had been drilled extensively on formation flying for air superiority missions. The surprising attack blindsided the Republican Air Force, who had grown lax in their patrols due to their dominance over the skies since the beginning of the early war. Now with the aircraft to match the Communard and Republican Air Forces, the Irish were able to wrest control of the airspace over the Irish island and attack enemy bombers. Casualties were highest among the Air Force, many of whom were outmatched by the more experienced enemy pilots, but the surprising victory and establishment of further control had further enraged the Commune of France, who elected not to pursue “any Irish ventures” further. They had returned to focus on their Alpine Warfare program, and reinforce their borders with Germany and Spain, recalling their forces from the British Isles and reminding Mosley of the greater mission against the Reichspakt. Half a million casualties in a short campaign, multiple failed invasions only useful for teaching lessons on how to repulse the Entente when the French had elected to cross the Mediterranean; a true waste in every sense of the word. While the war was not ended, the Internationale had decided on other priorities. With Ireland in control of her skies and her territorial waters, they had held on, and they had won.

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23 September 1939 - Áras an Uachtaráin, Dublin, ireland

According to the poets, autumn was the time of loss, from the possibilities of summer into the chill of winter. The poets had not seen fit to think of Ireland in that summer of 1939, where the possibilities of summer were to be bombed by a Syndie plane or executed for failing to turn over their food and valuables to an invader. Yet Ireland’s salvation was no balm, an end to war. On the 9th of September, Deat’s Communard government demanded the return of Elsaß-Lothringen, calling it Alsace-Lorraine, and flew over German airspace to drop leaflets in both French and German detailing their grievances. The Kaiser had refused the audacious demand, claiming that the territory had been German territory for over fifty years. The next day, the Commune of France had declared war on the Kaiserreich, with the Union of Britain joining. The Socialist Republic of Italy, already in a border war with the Kingdom of Two Sicilies, joined the Internationale, and King Ferdinando II responded by joining the Reichspakt. On the 10th of September, Savinkov, declaring the necessity to liberate the Russian people from German subjugation and second-class citizen status, declared war on White Ruthenia, the Baltic Duchy, the Polish-Lithuianian Commonwealth, and Germany itself. On the 15th of September, the Entente declared war on the Union of Britain, the Commune of France, and the Socialist Republic of Italy, citing the illegitimate nature of the governments there, and prepared their invasions. Finally, on the 20th of September, the Empire of Japan, citing pan-Asian ideals and the need to liberate the Far East from Western Dominance, declared war on German Indochina in addition to their ongoing wars in China.

Ireland was no longer the focal point on the world stage, but the rest of the world would feel the fires of war that the Irish had borne, and the fires would burn hotter and brighter than any the world had ever seen. Collins wondered who had been listening to his wish

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Diplomatic Moves in Ireland

Show of Force

Ireland Abandoned

Britain Demands Annexation

Mosley Declares War

Infiltrating the Army

Come Weal or Woe!

Ambush in Connacht

Casualties - First Invasion

French Landings in Southern Ireland

Casualties - Second Invasion

French Forces Encircled in Connacht

Casualties - Third Invasion

Irish Soldiers with Canadian Rifles and German Helmets

G2 Invents a Fake Army

Casualties - Final Count of the Irish War

Alsace Ultamatum

Alright then, 1939 is down. It’s the longest chapter so far, with the Second Weltkrieg having begun, all the Great Powers (except the US) at war. It’s a more successful tale of Czechoslovakia in 1938 combined with some Battle of Britain and some Operation Fortitude. Let me know what you think

#kaiserreich #creative #celtic tiger

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