#burning bright wasn't that good but I did like army of the dead

[frecklesandpoverty]

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 21

The Darkling x Reader

The atmosphere in the Palace was welcoming and enjoyable yet you couldn't help but dampen the mood of those around you. Your smiles were visible fake, your laughs as forced as the diplomacy of the evening. It was hard to focus on anything but the Queen's request, you could still feel her cold touch on your hands, could still hear her voice as if she was standing next to you. Some would say being in the presence of the Royals was a blessing by the Saints, but to you it was a sudden blight; a curse.

The duties and obligations you had were out the window now as you looked for the particular head of red flame hair, completely ignoring the Kerch ambassador and his slurring words of trade agreements.

Did Genya tell her General that the charming Lantsov Prince was soon to be wed to the Deputy of the Second-army? Or did she keep that part to herself? You had a feeling it was the latter given Aleksander's behavior earlier but what if he knew- What if his obedient spy told him everything and he was looking at your predicament as an opportunity, even though it would hurt you to the core and shatter your moral values. There's nothing he wouldn't do for more power.

'Deputy Y/L/N, I presume?' A man in a military uniform adorned with colorful medals approached you from the side, silently shooeing the Kerch man away and taking his place despite your obvious air of hostility. You were in no mood for diplomacy.

'The one and only.'

'So I have heard.' You could make out the smallest tinge of an accent reminiscent of a Fjerdan rhythm through the spoken words. His blonde hair and long beard tell-tale signs of his druskelle service and enough for your anger to flare. 'Tell me, what kind of Grisha are you?' You didn't miss the disgust dripping from the word as he forced it through his teeth. No doubt he hated himself for being here.

'A powerful one.'

'More powerful than the Sun-Summoner?'

'Much.'

'I won't forget that.'

'I hope you don't. Tell your people too, it'll save me some time and perhaps some lives.'

'Is that a threat Deputy?'

'Yes' He snorted and looked around the lively room.

'Fjerda isn't here to fight tonight, we're here to party. I thought it would be the same for you, no?'

'I don't keep peace with people who wish my kind dead.'

'Neither does your General. But the West, I'm not too sure they're on the same page'

You bit back the urge to smack the tall man stone-cold. The West was a tricky situation that had been playing heavily on your mind for as long as you could remember. Although it was Ravka, Grisha were no longer safe there. Zlatan was coercing with the Fjerdans to capture Grisha in exchange for military backup and as much as it angered you to keep the First-Army General alive, it would create a whole other problem if he was found dead.

'West Ravka is Ravka. All Zlatan is is a mere General of the First-Army. He's no King.'

'You would be surprised. People would listen to a stableboy if he spoke of truth and justice.'

'And would Fjerda back him up too?'

He smirked and gave a nod of his head in amusement at your raging eyes. 'You drüsje get so worked up over words. It's actions that matter.'

'Not here in Ravka. Remember where and what you are. Then think of what half of this room can do to you' Without so much as a goodbye, you walked away from him with a huff and continued looking for Genya. You hadn't even seen Aleksander make an appearance yet but you didn't think you wanted to see him, not after your conversation with the Queen.

We wish for you to marry my son

Every time you thought you had shaken the haunting request, it came back with a shiver up your spine. It went against everything you ever believed in. You hated the crown, the Lantsov line, you hated the Ravka they created. But this didn't feel like something you could reject. It wasn't a proposal, it was an alliance.

You turned your head to the doors and watched as Zoya clambered up the stairs in her stunning blue silk kefta. Behind her, a Suli performer climbed up on her silks as if it were all she'd ever known. Her body swung gracefully and smoothly, not batting an eyelid at all her observers. It was memorizing and distracting, something for which you were thankful.

'Haven't you got some Dukes and Ministers to babysit?' Zoya appeared beside you, eyeing up the empty glass in your hand.

'Let them roam free for the night'

'As long as they're not groveling over me'

'Because your presence is so much more captivating than the Sun-Summoners' You rolled your eyes and made your way to get a new, full, glass.

'Thank you for finally admitting it'

'Where's Genya Saffin?'

She made a face and took a glass to, bringing it up to her lips and taking a small sip.

'With Alina. Why?'

'Oh nothing, just some details to hash out about Marie attending dinner' You covered up. 'I spoke with a Fjerdan dignitary. He had no problem hiding that West Ravka is coming to their aid.' Zoya was a good soldier and a great tactician, if you were to tell anyone such sensitive information, it would definitely be Zoya.

'I overheard a Zemeni ambassador say they were spotted at Zlatan's rallies. He's raising his ranks whilst our own coffers run out. We can't afford a war with each of our borders'

'Try telling the King that' The Lantsov King. Nikolai's father. Nikolai.

'Saints are you alright?' Zoya looked at you with wide eyes, then to the broken glass crumbling in your hand. You had been clutching it so hard you managed to smash it and slice the palm of your hand.

'Oh umm- I need a moment' You disposed of the glass on a nearby table and basically ran to the nearest washroom. Crimson red blood dripped slowly from your fingers as you tried to keep it from staining your kefta while you closed the door behind you.

This was the first moment since your talk with the Queen where you were alone. Truly alone, no ambassador looming over your shoulder or a Duke at your side. Alexander, Alina, and Genya were still nowhere to be seen and the demonstration would begin shortly but all you wanted to do was stay in this tiny and stuffy room, shut off from everything. You washed your hand down with water, hissing in pain as the water tinted red and carried away the signs of injury. The quarters were quiet and calm, a stark contrast to the liveliness in the hall not often seen in the Little Palace.

The Little Palace tended to be quiet, but the Grand Palace was different. The Grand Palace. The winter home of the Lantsovs. Nikolai. Marriage.

The gentle tears came like a surprise, rolling down your face with grace. 'Fuck me' was all you could say as your head rested on your uninjured hand. You still felt exhausted and overwhelmed now even more so but you liked to think you hid it well. What good was a Deputy in emotional turmoil at a party full of political vultures?

The door to the small space suddenly opened and none other than Genya Saffin walked in with ease only she possessed. She looked at you in shame then fixed her attention on her shoes, not meeting your broken gaze.

'I take it you spoke with Tatiana?'

'Why didn't you tell General Kirigan?' You sniffed and wrapped your hand in a handkerchief, not bothering to wipe away the tears that you continued to cry.

'I felt it wasn't my place'

'Why?' Your voice cracked, slightly distracting you but the meaning to your question was obvious. Why me?

'She wished to squelch his bastardry rumors with your standing reputation.'

'Does he know?'

'She wrote him, but he has yet to respond.'

'Why not Vasily? Is it to make sure a Grisha never sits on the throne?'

She stayed quiet, toying with her sleeve. 'She says you have the air of a false Queen but the mind of a demon'

'Nothing new there' You laughed and straightened up, using the handkerchief on your hand to pat your face dry, diminishing any last sign of your weak moment away. 'Is Alina ready?' She looked at you with pure pity on her face, the compassion bursting on her face busting at its seams.

'Yes. Last I saw she was with the General.'

'Thank you Ms.Saffin'

***

You didn't mean to miss the demonstrations, but you took your time walking back to the main hall anyway. It was only when you saw the darkened room and searing light did you stop dead in your tracks at the door. Alina stood there on the podium, the image of a Saint. Her black and gold kefta shimmered in her light beautifully, illuminating her face and smile. She was glowing. Her powers had brought her not only luxurious life but good health, something everyone prays for. The black looked well on her too. It set her apart from the sea of bright keftas and gowns. In a Palace full of Grisha and powerful members of society, only Alina and Aleksander wore the black keftas, not even you wore it tonight and it made you feel surprisingly insecure.

He stood to her side, enthralled by her show of strength and skill. He was fascinated with her, it showed in his eyes and on his face but it definitely wasn't a facade. Even watching them from afar you could see that he looked at her as if she was his Sun, the only thing capable of lighting up his night sky.

You didn't know how to look at her. Everyone around you was worshipping her, whispering silent prayers to Sankta Alina: the Sun Saint, but you stayed frozen and still. You were never faithful to the Saints, they never listened to you, so what good would pledging your allegiance to Alina be if you knew Aleksander planned to extort her?

The whole room was kneeling now, heads bent down in symbols of submission yet you stood. No doubt you stuck out like a sore thumb, but a leader does not bow to anybody, not even the Saints. He momentarily turned his head to look at you but his eyes were far from the softness he gave Alina. They spoke more than his smooth words ever could yet this time the silent exchange did nothing to soothe your muddled head.

A tap on your shoulder caused you to break your burning gaze away from the summoners and to a guard instead.

'Deputy, we have 2 First-Army soldiers who claim to have found Morozova's Stag' The Stag. Just my luck.

'Tell the General, I have no business with the stag' You waved him off and returned your stare back to the room, scanning the crowd like a hawk when her eyes caught yours. Queen Tatiana was looking through to your soul, demolishing any confidence you could muster at that moment.

Marry my son.

----------------

Part 22

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[yumilattea]

I'll just put the rest in uh read more

But you know how Quaid and Claire's omnis have like... different goals. Quaid still wants to mend the relationship of the gods and the humans, and Claire wants to completely get rid of the gods?

I have this headcanon where they both exist which I'll try to write up under here, please forgive grammar and if my writing seems bland 😭

Some time had passed since that time she returned from their mission from Ishgria. Both her brother and Fadahl suffered from their injuries after trying to face off with the knights, so she was the only one who was left alive. The only reason she was still here was because the Oracle Knight had told her the truth about Karna Masta, and his plans to get rid of them and humanity. And that is how she was still fighting. She accepted his offer to fight by their side, and it was also for her comrades who had passed on.

Claire would usually reminisce the times she spent with her comrades. Their banter, their shared memories... it was all bittersweet to her now. She'd wonder what they'd think of her after defecting and going against all that she used to believe in. Maybe they'll forgive her. After all, this fight is for the sake of the human race.

"I'll never forgive them for what they did to us. I swear, I'll avenge you all, and all the gods will burn by my flames." She thought, clenching her fists as she looks towards the sky with fury.

She then started to wonder what Quaid would've done if he was in her position if he were alive. Would he have turned his back against the gods and rebel like she did? It was hard to read his thoughts, but she knew Quaid wasn't a man of violence.

He was always calm, kind, and collected. He would face problems differently than how she would face them. Quaid was also the type who had a bright personality, which the others would mistake as him not taking things seriously. Contrary to what some thought of him, he was a great leader, a young man with good sense of justice.

Perhaps, that's why she admired him, and why she loved him. He had a lot of qualities he had that just made her feel warm...

She sighed and tried to brush off the thought of him. "Heh... it's weird. Why am I thinking about you right now?" As she gets deep into her thoughts, she heard someone calling her from behind her. She turned around to see nake out the figures calling her from the thick fog, and as they moved closer, it was some knights running towards her direction.

"Ma'am... We have something to report." A knight came up to her, out of breath.

"Calm down. What's the situation?" It felt dire, but Claire had to calm this knight down to get words out of him.

"T-there's a mysterious man who's taking on our forces on his own."

"A mysterious man..?" She uttered. "... On his own?... I'll go check it out stay here and be on lookout."

Claire leaves her post so she can assess the situation and stop whoever this mysterious man is. How on earth this man is taking on the army on his own is beyond her. Was he a deity? Or was this man a human like her who was bestowed with a blessing from a god? Whoever this man is, she knew he was an enemy that she needs to eliminate to see her goal.

She moves towards the direction the soldiers came from, but for Claire, something didn't feel right about this. It was the first time she felt uncertain ever since she turned her back against the gods. There was something different about this.

As soon as she arrived, some bodies were lying on the ground. Fortunately they aren't dead, but they are unconscious. She hears fighting in the distance but she made sure that these knights were tended to first and assigned some of the other knights who came along with her.

After that was settled, she hastily moved towards the battlefield and as soon as she did, she tried to make out the young man in the current weather. As she examined him, she was in shock, and she couldn't believe what she was seeing with her own eyes.

"N-no... This can't be."

The young man approached her, and he was wearing a long red scarf, he had two swords, both of which she can recognize, and he also wears the insignia she had already cast away for some time now.

"...Quaid...?"

He smiles in relief as he too, recognizes her. "Claire... You're alive. I'm glad... What of the others??"

Claire doesn't answer but she looks away, unsure how to react. "Did you kill these poor men?"

"I just knocked them out unconscious but Claire-" Quaid sees her dejected expression and decided to not pry further. "Are you alright though...?"

"Quaid... I should be asking you the same things... But it seems like you have the same answers I have. They're gone too, aren't they. That's why you have her sword in your other hand. "

"You're correct..." He says.

"What are you doing here...?"

"... I'm here to fight for peace, to mend the relationship of the gods and humanity. Now that we're here, will you join me, Claire...?" He tries to approach her, but she pointed the top of her pike towards him.

"Don't get any closer."

"...." The young man can only react with silence.

"Your ideals are naive. Peace? Don't make me laugh. There won't be any of that so as long as the gods exist."

Claire puts a bit of distance between them, still with her pike pointed towards Quaid.

"Do you have any idea what Karna Masta and the other gods put us through??"

"... I have been informed."

"They brought us there to die... And yet... You still want to fight for something so out of reach... You knew what they did and yet..."

"I want you to trust me just as you have before."

"I believe those old days are long gone now."

Before another word is said, the rain starts to pour. Both Claire and Quaid stared at each other. Her eyes filled with anger, and his eyes filled with some resentment.

"Quaid... You were the one person who I didn't want to make an enemy of."

As soon as the rain picked up, she attacks him. Quaid dodges her attack, but she still persists.

"You should've just stayed dead. Your ideals have no place in the new world." Claire says as she continues to hit him, but she realized that he's holding back and has been defensive. She then hits him with her lance with enough force to put him down.

Quaid tries to stand but again, Claire points her lance towards him.

"Why are you holding back?"

"Because there's no way I'd hurt you. You're my friend."

"Still at it with reminiscing the past? I told you those days are gone." She takes away her lance and puts it down, and then looks straight into his eyes.

"Listen here, this is a battle of our convictions, Quaid. Our friendship is no more. You're my enemy, and I am the same to you. Only one of us is allowed to move forward to build the future based on the ideal world we hope for."

"Isn't there any other way for us to settle this?"

"I'm sorry. There isn't. You can stick to your naive ideals, but you have to fight me for it. This will only end one way and it's one of us coming out as the victor."

"I see..."

"I'll let you off this time as courtesy. But the next time we meet, we won't be having this talk anymore. And I won't hold back even if it's you." She then turns her back and walks away.

As she did, all she can feel is resentment building up inside of her. She tries to numb her emotions, but it has proven to be a difficult feat.

As for Quaid, he too heads off, but before he completely disappears from her sight, he looks back at the direction she went off to, and finds her looking back at him too with a mournful expression.

All this would have been easier if it wasn't you that I'm fighting.

[urlocalfrogmammy]

i’m scared of telling you how i feel—richard winters

inspired by

y/n is infatuated with dick. dick is infatuated with you. the only two people clueless enough not to see it is the both of you. nix is sick of it, and decides to give you a push

god bless richard winters. warnings: my love for gingers rlly pulling thru. word count 1.7k

'HQ' at bastogne was really just a tent like structure with a few foxholes and a stove. you left your foxhole, the early morning fog shrouding you as you padded over. you were met with lewis nixon and richard winters, and you saluted, greeting the men. "i want you to go with captain winters. he's doing a patrol of the line, collecting some reconnaissance will be your job." having captain nixon as your boss had many benefits, and being able to see his best friend, dick winters, was the best one. how you mooned over him. the all american solider, always the gentleman of the room. you'd first bonded at the new years party at aldbourne. it had been a relatively quiet night, yet the both of you seemed to be the only sober ones there. you’d known each other beforehand, vaguely, due to nix. but that night was when your crush began to grow. and jesus, it never stopped.

the man in question was attempting to shave his stubble, ever the stickler for rules, and was failing miserably. in your moment of distraction nixon grasped your bare hands. "where are your gloves?"

"i'm lending them to doc, sir." he pulled you towards the stove and you started to warm your hands over it, feeling the warmth tingle and smiling. "you look like your struggling there dick.” nixon smirked at him.

“yeah. yeah i am, you want a job?”

“no. not me, you can’t trust me with a razor.” he nodded in your direction, “lieutenant y/n however, she’d be an excellent candidate.” both you and winters flushed. nixon nudged you to sit down next to dick and handed you a razor. “get to work, lieutenant.”

"you don't have to—"

"it's ok, sir. i don't mind." you gently held his chin in your hand and slid the razor down the shaving cream he'd lathered on his face. dick looked at you, watching the tip of your tongue slipping from between your lips in concentration and wondering what your lips would feel like against his. he was never one to be unprofessional like nix, but god he would break every rule in the book for you. "where are we patrolling sir?" you interrupted his thoughts.

"just down the line, looking for breaks, checking on the men, that kind of thing."

you smiled at him, cleaning the razor in the tin of water. "you care about the men a lot, don't you sir."

"yeah, i do. especially when i can see them struggling." he aimed the statement at you, he'd heard your crying at night. averting your gaze with a soft smile, he took your hand gently. "you'd tell me if you needed help wouldn't you?"

"yes sir." your voice was quiet and sincere. "now let's get this finished."

you shaved the rest of dick's face in silence, with just the gentle sound of the razor grating against the stubble. you lifted the edges of the towel around from his shoulders and used them to wipe excess shaving cream off his face, and suddenly remembered that he was your superior. dropping the towel like it had burned you, you mumbled an apology. "that wasn't my... i shouldn't have done that."

"it's alright y/n. i think we've known each other long enough now." he gave you a smile, and you ducked your head, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. the snow suddenly became fascinating, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as he stared at you. “shall we get going with that patrol, lieutenant?”

“sounds good sir.”

you were freezing. freezing cold. so was dick, you could tell by the way he clung to himself. you resisted the urge to shudder, instead letting out shuddery breaths and chattering your teeth. "they'll hear you from across the line y/n."

"sorry, sir."

"it's not y—"

you both heard it. an unmistakable rustle in the bushes. both you and dick grabbed and aimed your rifles, it was like second nature now. your blood thumped in your ears, and your heart thumped in your chest. there was a rustle again and you called out: “who’s there?” no reply. suddenly you heard the click of a gun and you pulled the trigger of your rifle, no thought and no hesitation. there were two thuds. one was the body of whoever you’d just shot. the other was the dull thud of your rifle landing on the snow. dick ran over to see what had been shot, his rifle still up and ready to shoot. you scuttled behind him.

the german was dead. you'd killed him instantly. in a way it made you grateful, that he hadn't suffered the way you'd seen some men suffer. "i killed him." the words tumbled out your mouth, your hands trembled and your breaths started to get shorter. dick took your wobbling hands in his. "you did what you needed to do to save us." you looked down to try and conceal the tears that had spilled over, and were now trickling down your face, but the captain gently lifted your chin up. the butterflies in your stomach were doing cartwheels at this point, as dick’s fingers brushed your tears away. “let’s go back. nix can do this.”

“but—”

“that’s an order lieutenant.” he said it ever so gently, it didn’t feel like an order. it felt like a plea.

back at HQ, dick hurried you to sit by the stove and you complied, though the shakes that wracked your body weren't from the cold. "what happened to her?" nixon asked, offering you a flask of alcohol that you took with juddering hands, thanking him quietly. "she shot a german."

"isn't that what she's trained to do—"

"it could have been anyone captain nixon."

"but it wasn't. you saved us y/n. two seconds later and we'd be on our way to an aid station." you sipped the whiskey in nixon's flask. "thought you didn't drink?"

"i don't, sir."

dick stood up and told lewis he wanted him on the patrol instead. "be careful nix."

"i will." he slung his rifle over his shoulder. “oh and dick? tell her, i’m sick of waiting.” smirking, he sauntered off.

"tell me...what?"

"he's just... you know what he's like." dick smiled and you smiled back, though your heart was heavy with disappointment. the redhead took a seat next to you and began to warm his hands too. "cold here, huh?"

you dissolved into giggles at this wholly obvious statement. dick quirked a smile at you and you couldn't stop, until the laughing became crying and you found your body wracked with sobs.

dick was on you as soon as he saw you break. an arm round your shoulder and a hand in yours, he rocked you side to side and shushed you gently. "it's stupid."

"no, no y/n it's not." it broke his heart as he felt you cling to his sleeve. repressing a smile as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, dick tentatively ran his fingers through the matted hair of your ponytail. you seemed to enjoy the gesture, so he continued until you settled down. he felt a loss of warmth as you sat up. wiping your eyes, you mumbled an apology to the captain. "it's alright y/n. go get some sleep."

"captain winters?" it was late, but you found yourself hounded by images of the man you'd shot that afternoon. you could have tried nixon, but you knew as well as anyone he was a heavy sleeper when he was drunk. richard pulled the cloth covering his foxhole over and popped his head out. "i can't sleep." realising how stupid you were, you backed away. "sorry, i don't know why i woke you—"

"would you like to... talk?"

"i er... yeah. yeah."

"come on then." he held out a hand to help you into his foxhole. sitting side by side, dick slipped his hand into yours. "you okay?"

"yeah..." you leaned back into the wall of his foxhole. "i just have... a lot on my mind."

"about this afternoon?" his thumb began to trace circles on the back of your hand.

"yeah... not just that though. sir i—" you cut yourself off. the words you wanted to say were so right in every way, except you weren’t allowed to be in love in the army. you heavily exhaled. “you can tell me anything y/n, you know that.”

“i know dick, it’s just—”

“you called me dick.”

“oh... i’m sorry sir i—”

“i like it.” he gave you that smile that melted you and you felt relief flood you.

with that reassuring statement, you shakily admitted: "i'm scared of telling you how i feel. it's wrong, it's all wrong." dick's hand slipped out of yours and he turned away from you. "say it now. i can’t see you. makes it easier."

"does it?"

"yeah." you could hear the smile in his voice. you took three deep, steady breaths.

"i'm in love with you." dick didn't say anything, he just turned around and looked at you with those icy eyes you'd become so infatuated with. "really?" you nodded.

"ever since aldbourne."

dick grinned and leaned over to you. "can i?"

"yeah." it was one breathy word. dick's kiss was soft and gentle, filled with a caring kind of passion that you hadn't felt before. he cupped your cheek, gently stroking your hair back as you deepened the kiss. pulling away, smiling, dick placed his forehead on yours. “was it worth getting over your fear?”

“yes. a hundred times yes!” you squealed as he leaned down and captured your lips once again, feeling nothing more than pure joy in that moment.

the next morning you and dick woke up late. slipping out of his foxhole, you were greeted with the bright morning sun reflected onto the white snow, and lewis nixon looking smugger than ever. “did he tell you?”

“i told him.”

“damn.” he sipped his coffee. “what did you get up to in there?”

“nothing that would interest you nix!” dick called out, emerging from his foxhole and slapping his helmet onto his head. the captain wiggled his thick eyebrows at you and winked. you could feel yourself blush, but you opted to shake your head at him in mock disappointment. you were too happy to be embarrassed.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. L

It was a love story, from the very beginning.

Love Story (Part II)

(9x22b/9x23)

Hi my friends! How are you? We arrived to the last meta from season 9! I can't believe we are here! Okay okay... Getting emotional...

I want to say thank you to my dearest friend, @agusvedder , she made the gifs for this analysis!! 💕💕

Cas Will always choose Dean

When Metatron's trap for Castiel was settled, he confronted him in front of his soldiers.

HANNAH: Why would we follow you?

METATRON: Well, look around. You've seen earth. You've had a taste of free will. I got to ask you -- do you like it? I mean, the way you've flocked off to follow Castiel tells me you need to follow someone. It's in your DNA.

Metatron needs to discredit Castiel in front of his followers, he needs to cover with mud all the brightness Castiel was offering: Earth/Free Will/Their innate mission to protect Humans. That's why he wants to tear down the Castle in the air, presenting them the inevitability of their lore. They're condemned to follow. And this recalls me what Michael had said in season 5 FREE WILL IS AN ILLUSION. The huge lie to keep the angel quiet and obedient.

METATRON: (...) But Cas -- he's not what you think he is. He sends angels out to die. Have you told them about your stolen Grace, Castiel? How it's fading away, and when it burns out, so will you?

Several things in this part of the speech, first of all, here is the discredit of the Great Castiel, he is showing them one only truth, the stolen grace, because is the only thing Cas can't deny, because is real. He stole grace, and is burning. But that's not the focus, the focus are the bomber angels. Is very smart from Metatron to use one only truth to plant a huge lie. And he is successful with that.

METATRON: (...) So...No, then. I'm not the best, but I'm the best you've got. You want to stay with Castiel, fine, but he's playing you, because at the end of the day, the only thing he cares about is himself and the Hardy boys there. You've got a choice to make. Make the right one

Playing the role of victim, saying "I'm not the best", to drag the angel by his side, and then, saying Sam and Dean is the only two persons he cares about (knowing the angel's were experiencing how Cas was always by the Winchesters side), was the last stab. Cas is in troubles now.

Hannah took the leadership, and defied Castiel, making him choose between them and the Winchesters. But not Sam and Dean... They threatened jus DEAN, why? Because the angels knew Dean was Castiel's weakness.

HANNAH: You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one man. [She hands a blade to CASTIEL] This is justice.

Hannah is determinant here, she is testing Cas' loyalty... And she lost, because Castiel will always choose Dean...

Revealing Castiel's weakness

While settling down the trap, Metatron discovered Castiel true weakness...

You would say HE IS IN LOVE WITH HUMANITY, is a call to each human, because Castiel loves humans, he always had said he loves his father's creations.

But Metatron will certified in the last episode what he was talking about with HUMANITY. We will see in my next point.

When they come back to the bunker, Cas is desolated because he thinks he had lost every opportunity to defeat Metatron.

But someone is happy there: Dean.

Dean was kind of jealous of Castiel being a Commander again, leading angels. He had always hated when Cas shows any hint of interest in coming back to Heaven with his brothers. So... He leading an entire army of angel? It wasn't a good sign to keep Cas safe and with him.

There was a hint of melancholy in this scene, like... Destiel in the old times... But the weight of Dean's words here... He acknowledged Cas had chosen him, because Castiel loves him. And because his loyalty to him is intact. And Cas asks again his fears... Does Dean still believe he was capable to use angels as bombs? Because that was the fear he had in his now very human heart. But with this proof of love, Dean has not doubts. Cas is back, and with him, just for him.

That's why he settles again TFW speech...

He did it in the same episode in which Michael said that nefarious quote about TFW, remember? With the ONE COMATOSE CASTIEL on the bed.

I see a huge connection between that episode in season 5, this season 9 entirely, and season 15 about TFW and God/Metatron trying to control the will.

But concluding Dean is Cas' weakness ( as we will see textually in episode 12x10 too).

Cas did everything because of Dean

In episode 9x23 we had the confirmation of what Metatron wanted to say when he concluded that Cas was in love with humanity.

NEIL: Is that the new Angel handbook you're working on, or, uh...?

METATRON: No, no, this is a story, Neil, a marvelous story, full of love and heartbreak and...love.

NEIL: Sort of like "The Notebook."

Okay, Metatron is writing a love and love story here ... He mentions a heartbroken... Basically, he is inspired by Castiel's feelings for Dean, because that's the big secret he had just discovered. So is a story of love... (Family love, humanity love) and love with a heartbroken and that's Destiel. Because of what Metatron is about to do: KILL DEAN WINCHESTER. That way, by killing Castiel's weakness, he will defeat him completely.

And is hilarious angel Neil talking about a very romantic movie The Netbook, talks about a true love between a girl and a young man from different social class. Practically, a Destiel mirror.

Jumping to the confrontation between Metatron and Castiel at the end of the episode... He face our angel with the Truth he had just revealed...

That's it there's HUMANITY for Metatron. That's the humanity he was talking when he mentioned Castiel's weakness... He is in love with Humanity -> you did everything to save just one human : DEAN.

The equation is complete.

And now that he talked about LOVE, Is time to talk about HEARTBROKEN...

He breaks Castiel's heart by revealing he is dead. The Love Story had come to it's end.

To Conclude:

Castiel's weakness is revealed in these two episodes. Cas will always choose Dean (and Sam) over any circumstances.

Metatron discovered Castiel deep and romantic love for Dean and decides to hit that spot, by writing a Greek tragedy. He recognized it was a love story, and he will try to break Castiel's heart by killing Humanity (Dean Winchester).

I hope you like this meta, ser you in season 10 next week! Yay!

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha @imjustkipping @shippsblog

If you want to be removed or added to this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous season 9 metas, Here are the links...

Vol. XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV,

XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XVIII, XLIX

Buenos Aires February 26th 2020 4:18 PM

[simp4cas]

It Was Never Us

Masterlist

Dean Winchester × Reader

Chapter 1- Dean Winchester is a Kidnapper

It was the first time that your sleep was dreamless. There was no pain, no death. Just you. It had been a long time since you had a peaceful sleep.

Nightmares were regular to you because of the death and destruction caused by Micheal, the archangel. For the last fifteen years, you'd been fighting against him- not even completing your eleventh grade. But not completing your education had been the least of your worries then.

When the Apocalypse first began with Micheal and Lucifer fighting each other, there was this huge surge of power that fried all of your electronics. Electricity was out, cutting out communication, and at that time, you didn't know that two archangels were fighting each other. It was all pretty quiet from then, only minor earthquakes.

Food and water started to run out and your parents would make supply runs to the store close to your house every two weeks.

Then, the riots began. Hordes of people carrying weapons raided houses and stores for food and water, killing anyone who may stop them. It was then that you noticed real human behavior. Your parents had gone for a supply run and never came back.

Everything pretty much went downhill from there. You had no food in the house and no protection. You would hide in a nook on your roof, afraid that people would break into your house. Eventually, when you came out and left the house, you had been too numb to notice no one on the streets, the debris everywhere.

Fast-forward to fifteen years later, with camps fighting against Micheal and his army of angels. Along the way, you met and lost so many people. Innocent people who had so much of their lives left to them.

You had gone human scouting since you were sick of sitting in boring Resistance meetings and tending to the sick and dying people in camp. It wasn't that you didn't like helping people- your heart just wasn't in it. Lately, you'd been feeling that nothing really mattered anymore.

You and the other people were caught and then they kidnapped Charlie.

Charlie?

Shit, Charlie!

You bolt up in a sitting position, your sleep disrupted by the thought of redhead. Your mind floods with what had happened before- the angels took Charlie to the Northern Camp and left you with another angel. Someone saved you. Some guy wearing layers and another guy in a tactical suit- that honestly made him look like an idiot.

You had accompanied the strange men and gone to the camp, mainly cause they gave you a Glock that was way sleeker than any other gun you'd seen. You frown, remembering what Layers- you didn't remember his name- said to you. Something about them being from an alternate universe and you being dead there. As much as you wanted to believe them, you didn't have the liberty of bringing your hopes high.

A world without Micheal? The first time you imagined a world like that, it had been brought you to tears. A few years later, it was pretty obvious that the humans were losing the war against the angels and it was pretty obvious that all of you were going to die. So the next times you visualized it, you showed no trace of emotion on your face.

You bring your hands up, cradling your head as the memories flood faster and faster. You guys broke Charlie out from the camp but you had been hit in the frenzy of all the people shooting at the angels. Before everything went black, you remembered looking down at your hands dripping with your blood, staining the white snow and your clothes, Layers and Charlie running towards you.

You finally open your eyes, your heart beating quickly in your chest. Your hand immediately goes to your side, where you'd been shot and you feel nothing. It's didn't pain at all.

In a span of 30 seconds, you lifted your dirty gray tank top up to look at your smooth skin and scanned the room you were in.

It was- to you- beautiful. The walls were made with red bricks, only half of it cemented. There was a wooden table to the side with a few books that looked new- no damage or burns. The bed you were on- God, the bed you were on was heavenly. Not the tattered with springs-sticking-out mattresses or the uncomfortable hammocks at camp. It was an actual, comfortable-as-hell mattress on a bed. You scoff in disbelief, lifting the clean white sheet off you.

Wherever you were, it wasn't a camp. Couldn't be one. Either the angels kidnapped cause who knows the luxuries they kept to themselves. You hadn't seen a place that wasn't raided or had at least a few bullet holes in the walls in a long, long time.

What happened after you blacked out? And did Charlie actually leave you?

You scoff, shaking your head. She was one of the people you would give your life for- and that was saying a lot. You couldn't jump to conclusions. Not until you figured out where you were. You feel light-headed for a second as you swing your body of the bed, stretching your toes onto the hard wooden floor.

Your eyes scan the room for weapons, finally setting onto the lamp on your bedside table. You yank the plug out and wrap the wire around the stem of the lamp, widening your eyes at the weight of it. Cautiously, after eyeing the room one more time, you turn the doorknob, surprised to hear it click and open. That was strange. If it was angels that kidnapped you, why would they leave the door unlocked?

The hallway extended to your sides, with simple white walls half-covered with gray tiles. It was a huge place with at least 10 doors in the walls. You raise your eyebrows, wondering how big the place would be.

The floor was cold under your bare feet and you growl in anger. They took your shoes!

With your blood pounding in your ears you pass every door, fearing that one would open and an angel would walk out. You pass an archway that led to what looked like a kitchen with a small dining table, an island, a stove, and a few metal cabinets with black handles on them.

Your body tenses when you hear people speaking in the next room. You try slowing down your breath. You shouldn't be checking it out- if it was an angel, you had no weapon to kill it. But your legs moved on their own accord to the right.

You walk into a room that had a huge table in the middle with a map of the world on it. A few control panels were towards the side of the walls, with bright buttons and dials. It connected to a library and by the looks of it- and a huge one- lavishly decorated with leather chairs and weapons like swords and katanas. In front of you was a black staircase, leading up to a balcony that overlooked the room.

There were two men in the library. A man wearing a tan coat had his back facing you and to his left was another man with tall hair, wearing flannel. Who wore flannel anymore?

"Hello boys," a woman's voice speaks in a Scottish accent and you frown, tensing up more. Were there three people? But it sounded muffled- like she was speaking from a walkie-talkie.

Or a phone.

No, that wasn't possible. All the phones had gotten fried and only a few of them had been salvaged.

"I'm very sure I've done nothing that you know of to make you want to call but so good to hear from you," she continues in a silky voice as ripples of music play in the background- a piano and a harp.

Where were you?

"Rowena, that's not- um- we-"

"You have to speak up," the woman cuts the flannel dude as he leans back in his chair, sighing. You take a small step back, hoping he didn't see you.

"We need your help," another man says in a deep voice- a voice that was familiar to you. Your frown deepens and your heart beats faster as you try placing that voice.

"Really?"

"We must assemble our most powerful allies to save our family and confront the archangel Micheal," the man pauses. This voice was monotone and it definitely wasn't the flannel dude speaking since you could see him. So that meant that there was another man in the room. The man who asked for help- you couldn't see him from where you were. He was probably hidden by the huge beam that led the 'battle' room to the library. "Now, he's from an alternate universe so..."

Alternate universes? Another Micheal? Who spoke that bullshit to you last. Layers. Shit, did he kidnap you or something?

"Oh, the handsome angel is there, isn't he? Hello, cutie pie!"

The man in the coat stands straighter and you assume he was the 'handsome angel'. You swear inwardly. There was an angel here. You should be searching for a weapon to kill him but you remained standing there, listening to the conversation and trying to place that goddamned voice.

"Oh... Hello."

"Lads, obviously I ought to help after what you- Sam did for me but I'm in the damn North Pacific West right now working on my own little project."

"Project?" the man you couldn't see asks.

"What project?"

"Oh, nothing about you to worry about. Just checking off items from my little 'to-do' list."

"Sure, that doesn't sound ominous."

"Rowena," Flannel starts off, "are you at a party... or something?"

"I am but I'm surprised you recognize the sounds of a party since how you're all work and no play."

"We didn't call to talk... Look, the world is in danger, Rowena," the unseen man sighs.

"I'm currently surrounded by art that makes me think the world should be in danger. Best of luck to you boys, my three little Musketeers," she cuts the call after making a 'muah'.

"Damn it."

"You know, she's right. You never go to parties."

Great. All you got to know was that they were talking to a Scottish woman named Rowena who may or may not be evil and that they never go to parties?! There had to be something else-

The scraping of a chair against the wood makes you inhale sharply and hold the lamp closer to your body.

"I'm going to check on Y/n," the gravelly-voice says again. You freeze up but take the chance to step forward and confront them. Something like in a movie- timing and all.

You step out from behind the wall and freeze when you see the man walking down the stairs of the library, head inclining up to look at you.

The same green eyes of the man that saved you from the angel on the bridge. Not knowing his name, you frown, swearing at your forgetfulness. You didn't think knowing his name would be important!

"Layers?"

~

"I will not sit!" You say loudly, the lamp still extended. Dean- he told you his name after frowning at what you called him- looks down at your 'weapon' and you shake your head.

"That lamp won't do much," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," you say and look at the man in the tan coat who stood in the library, the furthest from you, looking at everybody uncomfortably. "Why are you with an angel? And- and who's he?" you ask, looking at the freakishly tall man who stood behind Dean.

"This is my brother, Sam. That's Cas- he's our friend. You can trust him," Dean reassures and for a second, you wonder why you weren't killing all of them.

"I can assure you I will not hurt you," the angel- Cas says and you shake your head.

"I don't need an angel's assurance. All you guys do is take and take." Your voice cracks slightly and you turn to Dean who looked at the exchange between you and the angel. "Where have you brought me? Where's Charlie?"

"Y/n, just sit down-"

"Dean," Sam cuts his off and you look at him, feeling tears pool at your eyes. You quickly blink them back, not allowing yourself to feel any fear. You would get out of whatever place this was.

Dean stops talking and looks at his brother. "Look," he sighs and looks back at you, "you were dying there and I had to save you. Your camp was too far and you were bleeding out too fast."

You frown, waiting for him to continue, warily glancing at the angel again. He looked almost sad. But that impossible. Angels were ruthless killing machines and they didn't care about anyone other than themselves.

"We're in a world without Micheal, Y/n. You're safe here."

"A world without Micheal," you scoff and look at the three, trying to spot the crack in the lie. But Sam and Cas looked at you with sincere expressions and Dean- well, every time he looked at you, there was something in his eyes- something that made it look like he didn't want to look at you at all.

"A world without Micheal," Sam says this time in a reassuring voice. "Cas healed you up when you came. You're safe here, Y/n," he continues, furrowing his eyebrows and making puppy dog eyes.

"It's actually a world without Micheal," you scoff again, your heart soaring in your chest. "A world- a world without Micheal. That was a phone in your hand," you say, now smiling ear to ear, laughing. "It's a world without Micheal!"

"Yeah," Dean says, a judging look on his face.

Your smile falls, though, as quickly as it came. "What about Charlie? And the others?"

Dean looks down. "She wanted to stay back."

Guilt brings your heart down, making it beat erratically. You shouldn't even be here. You should be there with Charlie and the others like Bobby and Tyler.

"Wait, you only- no. No, no, no. They need me there," you say as your eyes dart around the room. They finally settle on Dean. "You need to take me back."

A world without Micheal. A world where you could live peacefully, not having to live in constant fear all the time, worrying when the angels would attack again. A world where angels were apparently good. A world where you could be happy. But not living in a world with the people you loved and cared about... You were willing to throw away the perfect world for them.

"We can't," Cas says in his monotone voice this time and just him speaking irritates you. You shouldn't be rude to the angel since he was the one who saved you- it still surprised you that an angel did that- but it was just instinct.

"What do you mean you can't?" Your irritation seeped into your voice, earning a slightly surprised look from Sam and Dean.

"The ingredients we need to open the door," Sam continues, glancing at Dean, "we don't have them right now."

Your eyes widen and your mouth hung but you quickly shut it, clenching your jaw. "You brought me here," you speak, voice getting louder with every word, "with no plan of taking me back?"

"Y/n, it's not like that," Sam says but you shake your head, just wanting them to stop talking.

"How do I know you're not lying- that I'm actually in an alternate universe?" You look at Dean, with your brows knit together as a smile graces his lips.

Tags: @bi-danvers0

[bittersweetsongbirdsworld]

I'd Take A Bullet For You- Yoonmin Social Media AU

It was so ungodly cold. The snow that danced down from the sky and onto the streets made Jimin shutter. The wind that picked up and swirled the snow off the ground was a beautiful sight if Jimin didn't have fat tears streaming down his cheeks.

What was with the sudden weather change? Was it because of Jimin? He had broke Yoongi down to basically nothing. Yelling such a secret must have broke Yoongi in the most painful ways. The cold must have been what Yoongi was feeling, and the snow only grew heavier. Large flakes of snow rested in Jimin's sandy blonde hair, the small flakes floating off as he sprinted down the sidewalk.

He didn't know where the fuck he was going and he didn't fucking care. The mess he caused back at the mansion was something Jimin couldn't face, something be didn't want to face. He didn't want to see the tear stains on Yoongi's face and the betrayal. He couldn't handle it, he wouldn't handle it. So, he just ran until he ran into a tall male. Jimin stumbled back, nearly falling flat on his ass if it wasn't for the ferm hand the clasped his shoulder, holding him up right. Breathing out a shaky breath, Jimin looked at the male.

"Thank you," Jimin smiled weakly before he tried to move around the man, only to have the hand squeeze his shoulder with inhuman strength. Jimin let out a pained whimper, his eyes locked on the other's.

"Where do you think you're going, baby?" The man chuckled as he got to eye level with Jimin. Scrunching his nose, Jimin adverted his eyes, his brown eyes locked on his worn out boots.

"The only one who can call me that is my boss and you are not Min Yoongi, now are you?" Jimin spat, vemon dripping from his words. "We don't want my boss upset, now do we?" This only pleased the man more.

"Min Yoongi's little slut now, huh? Sorry to break it to you baby, but that man's heart is made of stone. Come with me, I can make you feel good in all the right places." Jimin's face fall at the inappropriate remarks, his heart dropping when he saw the man's smile grow.

Jimin backed up, away from the man to only back into another man's chest. Jimin realized he was fucked. He couldn't call for Yoongi because his phone had died, and if he screamed, these men would most likely knock hin out. So, Jimin did the only thing he could think of. He ran.

He side stepped around the man before he took off down the street, the men in close pursuit. His lungs burned from the cold air that flooded his lungs. His legs hurt from the snow filled sidewalk, the snow making it increasingly harder to run. With his mind racing a million miles per hour, Jimin didn't even notice the ice that had coated the sidewalk. Without as so much as a yelp, Jimin found himself on the ground, his chin hitting the ground painfully. The men were on top of him in seconds, their hands riding up his shirt and pulling at his belt.

"Get off me. Don't touch me!" Jimin panicked before a loud shot rang though the commotion, the man that was steadling Jimin's back fell back with a river of blood tricking down his forehead. When Jimin looked up, a bright, boxy smile looked back at him.

"Kill him, V." Without a moments hesitation, the other man toppled off Jimin, his limp body painfully hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Jimin had never been so relieved to have blood on him.

"Grab the pretty one!" A loud voice boom from behind Jimin before a hand was clasped over his mouth, Jimin's screams muffled by the large hand. Jimin grabbed and scratched at the hand with no prevail. Jimin's eyes darted around the mess on the ground before his eyes landed on Yoongi. Cold. He felt cold. He felt very, very cold.

"Let the Dove go!" Yoongi yelled, the shade of color in his eyes threatening. The darkest black Jimin has ever seen was looking back at him, sending a shiver down his damn spine.

The man smirked before multiple rounds of fire went off all at once, thousands of bullets aimed towards the ones Jimin ran from. The loud commotion only lasted for about thirty seconds before they eventually ran out of bullets, having to reload. When the snow finally fell back down to the street, the one holding Jimin let out a confused whine.

Not a single scratch. Everyone looked at the man with cocky smiles, Yoongi's more enraged than anything else. When the light caught the thin sheet of grey, the man groaned.

"Not going to go easy on me, now are you, Mr. Min?" A loud scoff fall from the one Jimin had fell for, the need for Yoongi's reassuring touch needed. When Yoongi's eyes locked with Jimin's, the familiar shade of blue looked back at him.

"Release him before I wipe out your men with a single attack." That's all Yoongi said before the man smiled, pushing towards Taehyung and Yoongi. Unfortunately, the man had something else planned. As soon as he pushed Jimin out of his arms, he pulled out a gun and aimed for Jimin's chest. That's when everything slowed down.

"Dove, move! Move, Jimin!"

Jimin watched as Yoongi pushed everyone to the side and run towards him, panic clear in eyes as he stood in front of Jimin, his arms outstretched. Jimin didn't have time to react before the man pulled the trigger, nailing Yoongi in the shoulder, heart, and the most deadly place; his head. Jimin watched in horror as Yoongi's head snapped back from the blow, splatters of blood caking Jimin's face.

Yoongi's body fell limp to the ground, the bullet wound in his chest bleeding significantly, Yoongi's chest not moving at all. The bullet hole in his head left blood all down Yoongi's forehead, eyelids, cheeks, chin, and neck. The sight alone had Jimin down on his knees. All Jimin could do was bury his face in lap, tangle his hands in his hair, and scream.

But, this was no normal scream. The scream was boosted to an ungodly level. It sounded like Jimin had just screamed into a microphone that was connected to the worlds largest speakers.

The scream shook the ground underneath him. Windows shattered, everyone had to cover their ears before they could go deaf. The tears and the screaming didn't stop even when Jin managed to get to Jimin and hold him close. All Jimin could do was cry in Jin's chest as the one he loved was being worked on, Jin somehow managing to hold Jimin and heal Yoongi at the same time.

Finally, Jimin's screams dulled down to painful sobs, the words Yoongi had whispered to Jimin before he was shot rang throughout his head.

"Live on, Dove."

───────────

Most feared man in Seoul, South Korea bit off a little more than he could chew. With the police hot on his trail, Min Yoongi could only do one thing: Kill all his men, burn the building down, and relocate. With Min Yoongi "dead", he is given the chance to slip amongst the shadows of Seoul and build up his once unstoppable army of blood thirsty thieves, criminals, and murders.

Jimin was a sweet, caring, kind young adult when he first met Min Yoongi. It was a simple bump of the shoulders and a string of apologies before the other could open his mouth. A simple "sorry," was exchanged before they parted ways.

The second time Jimin ran into Yoongi was in a dance studio, Jimin practicing his heart out; while the other watched.

The third time Jimin ran into Yoongi was the day Jimin dreaded. With the most feared mafia leader standing in front of him, things chanced for Jimin. Jimin was now a puppet for a man he couldn't even side eye without receiving a harsh punishment.

Will Jimin plan an escape plan, or will he find love in a cold, blood thirsty bastard?

🍻67/?

[bittersweetsongbirdsworld]

I'd Take A Bullet For You- Yoonmin Social Media AU

When the truck pulled up to an old, beat up building, Jimin was plain out confused and concerned. Why would the enemy be in such an old building, in the middle of town, where everyone could see them? Jimin was use to the ware house he woke up in, but then a large, fancy mansion. To be honest, Yoongi was more obvious than anyone else out there.

Jimin was broke out of his trance when he felt Taehyung elbow his gently, catching him off guard. When he looked up at Taehyung, his blood ran cold.

Taehyung was wearing such a wide grin on his lips, a bright, almost giddy smile that he looked almost psychotic. A smile that showed pure excitement and adrenaline.

"Aren't you excited, Chim? We get to watch the boss in action! It's also your first time watching the boss use his power," Taehyung beamed as he bounced in his seat.

Jimin couldn't say he was excited at the slightest. He was more anxious and the dread was weighting down heavy on his shoulders. Couldn't Yoongi just get a new dog and call it good? It's just a dog after all.

"That dog is probably the only reason why Yoongi is still here with us."

The simple sentence knocked the wind out of poor Jimin's lungs. What did Taehyung mean? The baddest man alive is alive because of a damn poodle? There really isn't no way.

"There is no way, Taehyung. I love you, but I can't believe it. That man has killed countless people and hasn't even batted an eyelash," Jimin's breath came out shaky as he continued on. "He is a blood thirsty man. No dog could tame a man like that."

The truck when silent, a silence that made the air feel heavy. The silence that made even the baddest men out there fidget in their seat. The silence was a piercings thing and it was making Jimin anxious.

"Taehyung I'm sorry-," Jimim couldn't even finish his sentence before Taehyung cut him off.

"You don't have to like Yoongi. I know you two didn't start off the greatest, but Yoongi is a good man. He protects the one he loves and he kills the ones who threaten them. It will take some time for you to see the real Yoongi, so just give it some time."

Jimin was awestruck by Taehyung's love for the mafia leader. He seemed so happy to even mention the mafia's leaders name, but was even more esthetic to even be in the same room as him. The love Taehyung showed for the mafia leader had Jimin taken aback.

When the truck's lights dimmed, Taehyung started for his door. The rattling of his sniper on his back and the many knifes that littered his belt made Jimin shutter.

"Yoongi will be waiting outside. The trucks will stay here while you four are inside. Now," Jin huffed as he eyed the four in the truck. "Be careful. I can only heal so many. I don't want to operate on a dead body now. You three." Jin looked back at Taehyung, Jimin, and Jeongguk, his eyes full of worry. "You're very young. You may be young, but you're not invincible. Caution is key. Now out, Yoongi is waiting."

The three nodded their heads before the four scrambled out of the truck, Namjoon stealing a quick kiss from Jin before he slipped away. Jimin could have sworn he saw a dust of pink across Jin's cheeks and a small smile.

When the group finally gathered, Jimin was a shaking mess. The intense stare from Yoongi made him sick to his stomach. The sharp, piercing scowl made everything fuzzy.

"Here is the mission: Kill everyone and get my fucking dog back. If you get into trouble, yell for help. We will be paired into two, I will go by myself. Namjoon and the Dove, Taehyung and Jeongguk, and Sangwoo and Hoseok. Don't disappoint me now. I don't want to blast this building down with just a simple energy blast, that would be boring." Yoongi let out a scoff before he turned towards the building.

The air suddenly became heavy with magic energy, a feeling Jimin would probably never get use to. When Yoongi turned to Jeongguk and gestured Jeongguk towards him, Jimin couldn't say he wasn't confused. He was even more confused when Yoongi walked over towards a large boulder and touched it, a light finger brush against the rough surface.

Jeongguk then proceeded to pick up the large boulder as if it weighted nothing, Jimin's mouth dropping open with pure shock and amazement. Then, Jeongguk threw the boulder into the air before he balled his hand into a fist. When the boulder fell down to eyes view, Jeongguk laid one blow on the boulder, the thing shattering into thousands of little rocks.

Taehyung blew Jeongguk a encouraging whistle before he sent him a wink, Jeongguk's face flush with embarrassment. Yoongi nodded his head at Jeongguk before he brought his arms into the air, his hands out in display as the thousands of rocks hovered in the air, Yoongi's brow pinched together as he considerated on the building in front of him.

Everyone waited anxiously before Yoongi threw his arms out, the rocks flying at a speed that seemed to be farther than light itself. The rocks embedded into the old building, the sound of glass shattering, bricks breaking, and a loud alarm filled the night air.

Without as so much as a warning, Yoongi took off to the building. Jimin watched as the mad man jump over broken glass and bricks, his moves smooth, but sloppy.

When Jimin felt a tug at his shirt, he found himself running into the building, Namjoon's hand wrapped around his small wrist. Everything came crashing down when they entered the building, dead, bloody bodies littered the floor. Jimin choked back a screamed as they made their way further into the building.

"I'm going to fucking die. I'm going to die."

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Most feared man in Seoul, South Korea bit off a little more than he could chew. With the police hot on his trail, Min Yoongi could only do one thing: Kill all his men, burn the building down, and relocate. With Min Yoongi "dead", he is given the chance to slip amongst the shadows of Seoul and build up his once unstoppable army of blood thirsty thieves, criminals, and murders.

Jimin was a sweet, caring, kind young adult when he first met Min Yoongi. It was a simple bump of the shoulders and a string of apologies before the other could open his mouth. A simple "sorry," was exchanged before they parted ways.

The second time Jimin ran into Yoongi was in a dance studio, Jimin practicing his heart out; while the other watched.

The third time Jimin ran into Yoongi was the day Jimin dreaded. With the most feared mafia leader standing in front of him, things chanced for Jimin. Jimin was now a puppet for a man he couldn't even side eye without receiving a harsh punishment.

Will Jimin plan an escape plan, or will he find love in a cold, blood thirsty bastard?

🍻13/?