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silkling · 3 years

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Of Rules and Regulations

Of Moments of Life AU

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Chase didn’t understand humans, sometimes. Chief spoke of the importance of following the rules, but fairly often the human let the citizens of Griffin Rock get off with very little punishment in regards to their rule breaking. Yes, he did ticket speeders and illegal parkers, but all too often he would allow people to break the same rule multiple times and would not increase the penalty, as so many human law books suggested was prudent. It confounded him. He did not understand. Were rules not important?

Chase knew they were. Rules were the pillars of a structured society. The Rescue Force, when it had still stood, had been built on rules and order. They had functioned best when the regulations and protocols had been followed…hadn’t they? Unbidden, the police bot found himself remembering Sigma-17’s encounter with the energon eater. He knew what protocol would have dictated, in that circumstance. ‘Do not cease the rescue operation, not until all other options have been exhausted and there is no chance of mission success.’

That was one of the Rescue Bot codes. Had they followed it, they would have pushed past the energon eater to follow the distress signal. Except….Chase knew now that the signal had been a false one. If they had not halted the rescue operation, then Sigma-17 would have continued to try and save bots that did not exist, and would likely have lost one, or more, of its members to the space beast. So in that circumstance, it would have been foolhardy to follow the rules. But…that was an exception, wasn’t it? Surely it was best to follow the rules at any other time?

He was so caught up in his own processor as he went down to the bunker that he didn’t notice when his path led him directly into that of another. Chase let out a surprised shout when he impacted something hard and large, and the force of it, even if he hadn’t been walking fast, enough to make him stumble back and almost trip over his own pedes. Thankfully, a large hand caught his shoulder and righted him quickly. He looked up to thank who had caught him, thinking it to be Boulder since no one else had hands close to that size, only for his voice to die in his throat when his optics met the red gaze of Dreadwing.

“Ah. Dreadwing.” he said, shuffling awkwardly. Dreadwing was another case that made Chase’s processor ache.

Again, he knew what protocol would dictate about the Seeker’s circumstance. A jail cell until a trial could be held. But every time he tried to think of that idea, his spark ached and protested it, and he didn’t know why. It just…didn’t feel right. Dreadwing had done horrible things in the name of the Deception cause. He knew this. The Seeker had even admitted as such. Yet….he didn’t want to go see him punished either. He knew why the flyer had done the things he had. He didn’t understand, not truly, but his reasons had been just, even if his actions had not been. And given what Chase had learned of his Dreadwing and others like him had suffered when they hadn’t been under the Decepticon banner, well. Chase couldn’t see himself demanding recompense. It was hard to. Dreadwing was not a saint, he knew that. But…he wasn’t some violent, sparkles monster either.

“Hello, little one.” The Seeker’s deep rumble tore him from any further spiraling. “You seem troubled.”

Chase opened his mouth to deny it, but his vocalizer faded to static. It clicked as he forced it to reset, the Cybertronian equivalent of clearing one’s throat, and he sagged. “Perhaps.” he agreed.

He thought again of his confusion, and his processor all but screamed with discontent as it struggled to make sense of the data it had been given. He didn’t know who he could talk to about this. None of his teammates were as stringent about rules as he was, and he doubted the humans could grasp out protocol and regulations were practically a part of Chase’s core coding. They weren’t Cybertronian, after all.

Except…

Except Dreadwing had been a high ranking officer in a structured military for longer than modern human civilization has existed. He, of all those Chase could talk to, was the most likely to understand. But could he? The Seeker had once been a Decepticon, so would be even be willing to help?

His mind flashed to Blades, and the way the copter’s rotors had been happily fluttering as he told the team how Dreadwing and he had swapped stories of their brothers, and how the older flyer had taken the younger bot to the back of the island at night for in depth flight lessons. Dreadwing had been a Deception once, true. But he seemed more than willing to help Blades, and Chase found himself praying that that odd fondness wasn’t just for the copter bot.

“Dreadwing.” he straightened his spinal strut, meeting that red gaze head on. “If you would be willing, I would require your advice. There is a matter that is causing me severe distress and my processor is unable to understand the data I have gathered on the topic.”

Dreadwing simply stared at him for a moment, his right wing twitching in a gesture that Chase didn’t know how to interpret. He knew flyers were capable of communicating with their flight appendages. It was why Dreadwing was so attentive to every movement of Blades’s rotors. But he was no flyer, and he didn’t know what that twitch meant.

Thankfully, Dreadwing quickly seemed to realize this, because he instead dipped his helm. “I would be most amenable to help, little one. Perhaps you would prefer to sit somewhere comfortable? I sense this will not be a short discussion.”

Chase nodded his agreement, quickly leading the way to the lounge. He pulled over one of the bot sized beanbags for himself, settling into it comfortably while Dreadwing took a seat on the couch. After a moment of organizing his thoughts, he lifted his gaze. “I am struggling with my core beliefs and understanding whether or not they may be wrong.”

Dreadwing tipped his helm to the side. “I see.” he hummed.

Chase figured he likely would. The Seeker had had to recently shift his entire worldview of where his loyalties lay, after all. “I…have built my understanding of the world and my surroundings on rules. There are rules to everything, I have learned. Not just the laws that govern society, but strict rules of how certain things operate and function within the world. The rules of organic reproduction, for example, or the rules that bind Earth to a cycle of different seasons. These are all set rules that do not break.”

The Seeker hummed. “So I see. Then here does your issue lie?”

“I….” he trailed off, then reset his vocalizer. “Chief Burns consistently lets the people of Griffin Rock off with lesser punishments than he should, if he were following the laws of his society. Just this morning, when he should have given Mr.Harrison a much harsher penalty for once again causing a mass public disturbance, he let him off with merely a word of warning.” The cop bot sounded frustrated. “And there is also…” He looked down. “You. Protocol dictates you should be locked within a cell until such time you can stand trial. But I find myself disliking that idea and I have no desire or intention of actually following through on it. I am aware you have done horrible things in the past, yet my spark insists that you can be given a better chance to make amends here and with your freedom than locked away in a jail cell.” he finished, frustrated and angry with his own lack of understanding.

To his credit, Dreadwing let him finish before he spoke. “I believe I understand now.” he stared hard at the smaller bot. “Rules are important. You are correct about that. In a well functioning, proper society, rules create the pillar upon which order is maintained.”

Chase made a frustrated noise. “Then why-“

Dreadwing cut him off. “However. In such societies, there is also often a deep sense of community. That means there is an understanding among all those within that society that some of the rules that establish their land are more important than others. Vos operated under such a system. The Senate despised us for it, as it meant there were instances in which Vos’s children did not fit into the societal rules they had set for the rest of Cybertron.”

Chase blinked. “But what does that have to do with it?”

“In such a society, where some rules are deemed less important, it is also generally understood that if one breaks those rules they may not necessarily have to face the punishment written by the law as long as no one was harmed. Take speeding, for example. I know one of the citizens on this island does so consistently, and yet Chief Burns only ever gives him a single ticket.”

Chase jerked. “How did you-“

“You rant about that specific man very often, Chase.” the Seeker said dryly. “Now, in that instance, the Chief is in the right. He could ticket the human more, he could jail him for the night, but that would not help matters. Perhaps it would stop him, but it would also build a sense of resentment.”

Chase crossed his arms. “What does that matter?”

“It matters quite a bit.” Dreadwing sighed. “In a society built on a sense of community, like Vos was and like Griffin Rock is, it is not lack of total and complete order that causes things to crack. It is resentment. Vos, this island, they were, and are, both built on the backs of their children’s’ respect and regard for one another. Once that respect and regard is lost, so to are the foundations that make Griffin Rock a community.” he explained.

Chase blinked. “Chief…does not penalize the citizens of the island more harshly because they are a community?”

Dreadwing hummed. “Precisely.” he agreed. “Without the proper community, it would not truly be Griffin Rock. As such, the people of the island have an unspoken understanding that, so long as no one is harmed when something goes wrong or when someone breaks a rule, then it does no harm to let them off with a lesser punishment.”

“Or even no punishment at all?”

“Or even no punishment at all.” Dreadwing seemed pleased that Chase was starting to understand. “As for the second half of your concerns…I do understand that as well. You are correct. Any legal system would demand my incarceration. However, one must also look at the specific circumstances.” he leaned back. “I cannot tell you how you should think on the matters of my crimes and the penalties I should face. That is not a decision that is mine to make.”

Chase blinked, then sagged and nodded. “I know. And the fact that you are not trying to sway my opinion says much more about your willingness to make things right than any long term imprisonment could, I believe.”

Dreadwing chuckled. “Thank you, little one. I will do my best not to misplace your faith. Primus saw fit to gift me a second chance and the opportunity to make amends. I will still avenge my brother one day, but I will not squander what I have been given here.”

Chase smiled despite himself. “Good.” Then his expression dropped a little, and he looked down. “What about in societies that are not built on community? Are rules not important there?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm. “Hm.” he narrowed red optics. “That is a more complicated matter. If the society functions and all within it are content, then yes, I suppose the rules would be important. But that is not often the case. Before the War, Cybertron functioned under strict rules, but it was in fact those same rules that caused so much suffering.”

Chase looked at the Seeker in confusion. “I…was aware of the discontent. I knew the lower castes were struggling. But how bad was it exactly?”

Dreadwing tilted his helm up. “The root of the problems lay in Functionism itself, little one. It was a plague. The Rescue Force, by some odd miracle, was not affected by Functionism. They believed that as long as a Bot was willing to train, then any frame-type could be used in rescues, as there was not only one kind of rescue and some would require unorthodox frame abilities.” the Seeker sighed heavily. “However, the rest of Cybertron was not so lucky.” Fingers drummed against the couch, and the Seeker was silent as he considered his next words. “Your teammate, the little bulldozer? Had he not been a Rescue Bot, then the rules of Functionism would have forced him to be a construction worker, whether he wished it or not. And if he did not bend to his function, then the Senate would have punished him severely and they would have been allowed by law to do so.”

Chase went still, optics wide. He couldn’t imagine that happening to Boulder. He knew what sort of punishment Dreadwing was talking about. Anything from jail to…empurata. He shuddered as the thought crossed his processor. He couldn’t imagine Boulder, warm, soft-sparked Boulder forced to bare the markers of empurata. That penalty was too much. Even he had been aware of that much of the Senate’s darkness, even if he hadn’t understood how bad it had truly been.

“I….see.” he whispered.

And he was starting to. Rules had defined his life up unto now, but…his life had dramatically changed, and so had to the rules that defined it. Perhaps it was time he changed his own understanding of rules as well. He looked up to meet Dreadwing’s gaze, standing up from his beanbag. “I…thank you, Dreadwing.” he said gratefully. “I do not understand fully, but I believe I will eventually. You have given me much to think about. Your advise….it was much appreciated.”

Dreadwing too, stood. He nodded at the littler bot, and Chase found his spark was starting to hammer at the thought that this, whatever is was, was going to end. “Movie!” he blurted.

At Dreadwing’s confused stare, he reset his vocalizer. “I would like to share something of mine with you, now that you’ve shared your advice with me. If you’d be open to it. Blades has shown you his favorite Earth entertainment, and if you would not be opposed than I would like to show you mine.” he said, and despite himself he couldn’t keep the hopeful note from his voice.

Dreadwing seemed to catch on to his true intentions, because the Seeker had a knowing glint in his optics. There was a brief silence as the flyer considered, then his helm dipped in acquiescence. “I would be interested in seeing what it is that garners your enjoyment, young one.” he agreed, retaking his seat on one end of the couch.

Chase relaxed, and was quick to set up the movie and grab the remote. It was the first movie in his favorite series of detective films. This series wasn’t quite as silly as some of the others, and some of the crimes were genuinely thought provoking. Chase was hoping Dreadwing would appreciate the moral complexity. He moved to the beanbag as the movie started up, and paused to glance at the empty space next to Dreadwing. After only a moment of hesitation, he pulled the beanbag to the nook where it was usually kept with the others like it, then went to take the empty seat on the couch. Dreadwing only shot him a glance, but did nothing else before returning his attention to the film.

After the movie had progressed, Chase felt his frame shift slightly, instinctively seeking out the warmth and closeness of the larger frame by his side. His shoulder pressed into Dreadwing’s arm, and when he realized what he’d done he tensed and made to pull away. Only…Dreadwing didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the large Seeker only shifted his position, freeing up space for Chase to rest more comfortably against his side. After a second’s thought, the police bot did so, tucking in against the larger Cybertronian and enjoying the quiet closeness. Cybertronians were a social species after all, and physical touch was just as important to them as it was to the humans.

Dreadwing didn’t drape his arm around the youngling, as he did whenever Blades burrowed in close to him. He seemed to understand that it would make Chase more uncomfortable than relaxed, because he simply kept it tucked back so that Chase was leaning back on it as he curled into the Seeker’s side.

The movie progressed, and Chase found his processor settling more and more as time went on. Eventually, the usually loud data processing that flowed through his mind quieted to a gentle buzz, and he felt himself relaxing against the frame of the older Cybertronian he’d tucked himself into. He still had a lot he had to figure out, but now he was more certain of one thing.

He would enjoy having Dreadwing around. The Seeker wasn’t quite so bad, after all.

In fact, Chase thought, frame and processor at peace with each other for the first time since Sigma-17 had departed Cybertron on that fateful mission. In fact, I think I truly do enjoy having him here. He feels…he feels like family.

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And here we have the second installment in the “of moments in life” AU! No Blades this time, but there is Dreadwing and Chase bonding! Chase is starting to accept that not all is black and white, and Dreadwing is starting to find a new place and purpose for himself. Also, he’s a dad now. He just hasn’t really realized it yet.

I hope everyone enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with it! There’s going to be more of this in the future, so if y’all wanna make sure you don’t miss the updates and whatnot, follow the “of moments in life au” tag.

I’ll see you all in the next fic. Until next time, friends!

#tfp #tranformers prime #rescue bots #tfp dreadwing #Dreadwing #rescue bots chase #Dreadwing lives #chase is having a moral crises #Dreadwing helps #chase and Dreadwing bond #chase has a new dad now! :D #of moments in life au #maccadam

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shijiujun · 4 years

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what r ur thoughts on shi mei n hua binan?

ahhhh it’s complex hahahaha hmm how should i put this

also this is a pretty huge spoiler so i’ll add this under a cut:

okay talking about hua binan and shi mei first as the same person (because they are at the crux of it) - their environment and experiences determined their views and how they treat others. this is entirely understandable as they are a tribe and race which has been hunted down for years and years through no fault of their own, and we all can understand if the gory, disgusting, heart-wrenching and hopeless situation shi mei’s kindred has been through. they’ve been stepped upon without any hope of fighting back, they’re regarded as breeding tools and cattle for sale and purchase, they aren’t seen as living beings. because they’re weak, those who are strong and rich especially find it natural to dictate how their kind lives and dies - it’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less a kid. shi mei was also exposed to his mother dying so gruesomely by a father who should have doted on and protected them unconditionally.

they have nowhere to go except home, but where exactly is home? shi mei is ridden with the burden of a mission that honestly should never have fallen on a child’s shoulders - to get him and his people home. it’s traumatic, and any normal living, thinking person would want revenge. it’s natural, and he’s entitled to it. what right does any other fucker have to dictate how he and his people live, right?

and so i think their love for chu wanning makes sense - he’s the glimmer of hope, warmth and steadiness that shi mei craves, and perhaps when he was younger, he wanted to find home with shizun in some way. i think that’s entirely natural and logical as well.

i think where they diverge however is definitely because of shi mei 0.5 aka hua binan - i think shi mei 2.0 might have gone on the same path as hua binan if 0.5 did not interfere. shi mei basically has an impossible, ingrained mission where he cannot fail, and even tho shizun has been kind to him, firstly the mission takes precedence and secondly, i don’t think shi mei actually knows how proper relationships work.

he’s seen others take and take and take and take from his own people without thought, he’s seen his mother make use of his father, his father killing his mother out of some misguided sense of hatred - what exactly is love to shi mei? every ‘relationship’ he’s seen has been warped, even the women of his kind that were forced to birth children for further breeding purposes or to become medicine to increase the cultivation of humans - honestly i’m not sure he’s seen a proper relationship, early enough to understand how someone deals with love and affection as well.

obsessed with his mission, and also perhaps not quite understanding just how much or how he wants shizun, he wanted to plant the flower in him, control him, put him at his side forever, to be infatuated endlessly with him. sure, 0.5 wanted to make use of chu wanning, but certainly a part of him wanted chu wanning to be his. of course by that time, because of mo ran’s interference and the boy’s proposition, shi mei’s propensity for hatred and revenge surfaced and overpowered him wanting to tie shizun to him that way. in any case, after mo ran’s personality takes a turn with the flower, shi mei would have all the time to chummy it up with shizun while mo ran is being a little bij right, so it’s a win-win for him

shi mei in 1.0/2.0 doesn’t reach that point because hua binan has already turned up and is eager to use this other alternate universe version of him, and canon in that sense diverges because mo ran basically no longer has eyes for shi mei after that incident - which perhaps makes shi mei think about himself, and the entire scheme and also hua binan in general. now that the evil part of him is out here physically, i guess it’s also food for thought for shi mei right - he gets to basically be an observer rather than a participant in this entire affair in the second round, which allows him to not immerse himself fully considering that hua binan basically is taking the crazy with him - shi mei 1.0/2.0 urges and mission is still there, but he’s able to see a bit more clearly? and with mo ran and shizun making each other so happy, i guess that kicked something in shi mei’s head and made him turn back.

even then, he didn’t exactly and directly help out in the last battle - he let shizun go, and he can answer to shizun and in a sense mo ran by doing this, and sitting out in the last part allows him to answer to his own kind too, he has chosen ambivalence because there is no other way he can face this.

as for hua binan, oh boy, i mean... it was all for nothing. everything for him is a waste, all his efforts were a waste, because he was meant to lose all the way to the end, unknowingly. the odds were stacked against him truly. i mean yeah he’s legit an evil fucker and yes upbringing doesn’t excuse him for his actions, but you gotta admit he was dealt with a losing hand from the moment he was born.

i think it’s the most tragic for shi mei and hua binan because after all these years, lifetimes, fights and more, they don’t belong anywhere. not in the demon realm, not in the human realm, and worse, not in any one’s arms or comforting embrace. they’ve been alone, from start to end. and it’s difficult to hate him for it.

overall with shi mei and hua binan it all boils down personally, to me, that the wealthy and powerful are motherfuckers and should burn in hell, in the novel, and sometimes in reality XD

#asks #2ha

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tae-cup · 4 years

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Down With The Ship | FINALE

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader

Summary: Captain Jeon Jungkook; a beautiful mess of blood and gold. His greatest treasure, may also be his greatest downfall.

Genre: Pirate!au

Warnings: Angst, some fluffy stuff, panic attacks, blood

Rating: T for Teens

A/N: Alexa, play Roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent. aaaaaaand that’s a wrap! I’m honestly in love with this series and kind of want to make some spin offs, but I need to focus on like...my big series now XD

Thanks for sticking around!

Word Count: 8k Words

Other: Masterlist

Up with your turret Aren't we just terrified? Shale, screen your worry From what you won't ever find

Him had a face. Him had a name. Eun-kyung haunted your dreams. The deep blue of his irises visited you at night and his soft hands touched your waist, your arms, and legs. The most innocent of touches giving you the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach.

You were broken out of your trance by a hand waving in front of your face. You blinked, startled.

“Oh, sorry.” You murmured, brushing back a strand of hair as you met the gaze of the frowning captain.

“Are you sick? Tired?” The genuine concern that tinged his voice was new to you.

You smiled softly and shook your head, turning back to sketching out the map before you. It was so nice above deck where you and Jungkook sat on the planks. He dictated anything interesting he saw and you sketched the coastline.

“I’m alright, Jungk-Captain.”

He paused, looking at you for a moment. Then he turned back to observing the land mass ahead. “You can call me Jungkook. I don’t mind.”

His words made you smile a little and you didn’t know how his heart quickened when you smiled.

“I see a large mountain in the distance. It seems to be of cold climate.”

“That explains the wind.” You rubbed at the pinkened end of your nose. He noticed you shivering and, in an action that surprised both you and him, he shrugged off his coat and handed it to you.

“Stay warm, Y/N. And head inside soon before you catch a cold.” He then wandered back below deck without another word.

You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. His mouth moved around it harshly, like a command, while Eun-kyung always spoke it like a soft prayer on his lips. The callous nature of the man did not surprise you, he was a pirate after all and Eun-kyung had simply been your guard. But he was so much more than that. If Eun-kyung was the sturdy land, Jungkook was the crashing sea. And you had always loved the sea more than the land.

You stood at the side, biting your lip in concentration. The murky water below reminded you of the day you walked the plank almost a year ago. It had been terrifying and calming at the time, but now it just gave you fond memories. You still weren’t allowed off the boat since you were a wanted woman. The thought sent you back to the weight that had been hanging on your shoulders. Were they still looking for you? Was Haneul getting closer? Every day it felt like you could turn a corner and he would be right there.

You gripped the pen tighter as you traced the coast. The air was chill and your ears were freezing, but Jungkook’s coat was wrapped tightly around you, the sleeves rolled up to keep from dragging on the page. You hummed a little to yourself, just admiring the sights before you.

It was odd how the ocean, so vast and oppressive at times, could fill you with such joy. The emptiness of the sea, no soul within miles, would put a normal person on edge, but when you loved the salt in the air as much as the crew of BTS, the loneliness didn’t seem all that bad.

Jungkook was on his daily rounds to make sure people were on task. He checked in on Jin who was cooking lunch. The older man quickly shooed him out of the kitchen, waving a wooden spoon as the captain shouted his protests.

Then he visited Namjoon, his trusty second, but he was busy reading a book. When he had entered the man’s cabin, he had simply peered up at him unamused and went back to reading. Who knew the captain of his own ship could be so easily rejected by his crewmates? He didn’t even bother with Yoongi, fully knowing the man was asleep.

Surely Jimin will need my help with something? So he went to visit the blonde haired man. But he was busy cleaning and claimed he didn’t need the help. Hoseok was quite obviously steering the ship and Jungkook didn’t really need to help there. So he ended up standing beside you, thoroughly tired of his crew.

“It’s like every time I try to do something nice for my crewmates, the universe rejects me.” He sighed, feeling a little more melancholic than usual.

It was nearing the anniversary of the mutiny and though the blood was long washed away, he didn’t really want to spend it on the boat. You made a noise of acknowledgement, still focused on your drawing.

“Words would be nice, little miss.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless. “Oh boo hoo. No one wants to babysit the captain.” You turned to face him, a smirk on your face.

His cheeks grew red and he opened and closed his mouth. He didn’t know if he wanted to kiss or slap that smirk off your mouth. Was it scary that the urge to kiss you was stronger? To him it was terrifying. He already had six weaknesses composed of his crewmates, but having a lover? That would be his downfall, he just knew it. So at what point did the pros outweigh the cons? He would see to it that they never did. For his and your own sake.

The captain still couldn’t help tracing his eyes over your profile. From the slope of your nose to the outline of your lips. Then he studied your hands, the way you held your pen, the way you focused on the paper.

“How long are you going to stare at me, lover boy?” You teased, having grown comfortable with the captain.

You spent most of your time with him to help him navigate and work on the various maps. It was sort of exhausting to have one way conversations with him, but you were okay with it; it was like home.

“Sorry.” His response made you frown slightly, but you returned to your work.

“Does Namjoon dislike me, or something?” You asked cautiously, not looking up from your sketch.

“No...I think he just...has trouble trusting people.” Jungkook huffed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face.

The door that led below deck flung open with a crash and Taehyung stumbled out, looking out of sorts. He immediately went to the side and hurled out his lunch.

“Taehyung, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” You dropped your pad and pencil onto the deck and ran over to look at him. He was pale and wide eyed.

“Just a nightmare.” He choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

You caught the glistening in his eyes before he left to sit against the wooden siding of the ship. He leaned his head back, brown hair splaying out in all directions, and pulled his knees in close to his chest. The man took deep breaths.

“Must have been one hell of a nightmare.” You murmured, your tone concerned, and you were. You had never seen the man so disoriented. He was often a wild card between serious and loving, but never had you seen him off guard.

The man didn’t respond. His hands gripped his knees. The captain watched his crewmate in sympathy. With a sad expression, he tugged on your arm.

“Y/N, we should leave him be. There are some things you don’t have to know about.”

“His name was Sam.” Taehyung whispered. Jungkook stopped, glancing back at the gunner with curiosity. When he didn’t continue, Jungkook took that as his cue to leave. He dragged you away, disappearing below deck.

His mind was spinning. He went in circles, memories playing on repeat like a video. Taehyung could feel Sam’s warm breath on his neck, the way his hands held his, the way he brushed against him. The man would always claim it was an accident, but Taehyung knew it wasn’t.

While the lull of the sea usually brought him peace, today it reminded him of everything he’d done wrong.

“Aish, you need to let it go already.” Sam sat next to him, his ethereal form hovering above the deck.

“You died right in my arms, Sam. It was my fault for not shooting the man before he shot you.”

“You were processing, it’s okay.”

“Why did I hesitate the one time it mattered?”

“Because you’re human.”

Taehyung bumped his head against the side several times, trying to make the ghostly spirit go away. It was taunting him with a love he could no longer have.

“How can you forgive me?”

“You did all you could.”

“Why aren’t you mad?”

The ghost stood and crouched in front of him, body passing through Taehyung’s knees. He could almost feel the man’s touch, his ghostly fingertips tracing his cheek. Then the wind blew and reminded him of the simple chill that caused it.

“I could never be mad at you Taehyung.”

The man swallowed, watching the specter lean in, his ghost lips brushing over his warm ones.

“How can you say that, Sam?” He said weakly. “When you’re the one with a bullet in your chest.”

“If you weren’t a pirate, Hoseok, what would you be doing?” You sat on the railing that overlooked the main deck. Your legs swung back and forth. The pilot thought over your question, his eyes still set on the horizon.

Hoseok, despite his sunny personality, could look rather serious, possibly angry, when he thought hard enough. He twisted the wheel, sending the boat closer to the mainland.

“I think I would be a dancer.”

“You dance?”

“I wanted to.” He corrected you. Then he released a sigh and placed a pole through one the rungs to hold the steering wheel while he took a break. “It wouldn’t have worked out. It wouldn’t have been a living.”

“Can you show me?” You asked. He raised an eyebrow.

“You want to see?” There was hope in his eyes as he spoke, his words holding an excitement.

“Yeah, for sure!” You smiled widely, eager to see your crewmate either wow you or make you laugh.

“Alright! But you’re getting in on it too, okay?”

“That wasn’t the deal.” You crossed your arms. “Besides, I only know some ballroom dancing.”

“I’ll show you!” He exclaimed excitedly, taking your hand and leading you out to the main deck.

He bowed lowly, pecking your hand with his lips. You instantly flushed bright red and he looked up at you with a sly smile.

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

“Most certainly, kind sir.” You played along, curtsying.

He chuckled and took your arm in his so you were facing opposite directions. Then he began skipping around in a circle, humming out a beat and melody. You laughed, forced to follow along with his antics. He then switched arms and continued the dance. Then he unhooked his arm, spinning you around in a circle.

You fought to regain your balance, the world spinning as you let out more squeals of excitement. He then held up his arm, intertwining his arm with yours. Your hands touched, fingers pointing upwards as he took a step forward, leading you in the new dance move. You both laughed in delight, dancing to the rhythm of the sea and humming a tune only you two knew.

There was a loud cough. The entire crew stood there, even Yoongi, watching you with varying expressions. Jimin looked eagerly between the two of you. Yoongi just sighed, but he didn’t move back below deck as he usually would. Jin was holding back a laugh and even Namjoon let his lips twitch into a smile. Jungkook looked the least pleased.

“Hoseok, don’t you have a job to do?” The captain barked.

“Sorry, captain.” Hoseok bowed and started leaving. You quickly grasped his arm, pulling him back.

“Stop it, Jungkook.” You hissed, not bothering with the title. “You’re always trying to ruin the fun, loosen up and live a little.”

The crew stood still, glancing between the two of you. Jungkook turned on his heel, letting out a huff of air, his nostrils flaring. The rest of the crew awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot.

“Jimin! Get over here, I can see you want to get in on it.” You winked, moving around to push the male towards Hoseok.

The older man easily took the younger in and started showing him the steps. You then shoved Namjoon and Jin together. Yoongi glanced at Taehyung who smirked.

“No way.” Yoongi scoffed, ready to go back down below.

The others were already getting into the swing of things, switching partners and letting playful banter slip in between the melody they all started singing.

“As I was a-walking down Paradise Street.” Jin sang, his voice clean without a warble.

“To me way-aye, blow the man down.” The others chorused.

“A pretty young damsel I chanced for to meet.” Jimin rang out next, his voice like a bell and just as beautiful.

“Give me some time to blow the man down!” They all sang back, erupting into laughter.

Taehyung reached out and grasped the older man’s sleeve.

“Yoongi, I think it’s about time you joined the world of the living.” He stated firmly and dragged him out to dance with the others.

It was soon a mess of laughter and drunken singing, although no one was drunk; they acted like it pretty well. Hoseok was clapping in time to the beat. You wanted to throw yourself into the mix, but you didn’t have a partner. The most eligible man was pissed off below deck, most likely brooding.

You wouldn’t have it. You marched down below, despite how much you hated the claustrophobic feeling of being below deck. You pounded on the captain’s office door and he responded with a stern come in.

You marched inside.

“Captain Jeon Jungkook if you don’t go out there and dance right now, I’m going to drag you out. You can spend all your life hiding from your crew and holding up in your office when everyone is bonding. And you also need to stop brooding like some edgy man baby! Seriously! Loosen up!” You paced, ranting to the captain who sat looking amused at you. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows shot up at the words ‘man baby’.

“Excuse me, is that anyway to speak to your captain?” He frowned, effectively cutting you off. “Maybe I have been too lenient with you and the crew.”

Then he caught himself in the mirror and sagged, suddenly lost in thought. That was something Captain Rogers would say. Except, when he looked at you, you weren’t shaking and crying, you weren’t flinching at his gaze. Instead, you stood straighter.

“You need to be more lenient to yourself, Jungkook.” You stepped around the desk and he swiveled his chair around to face you.

Jungkook had such a youthful face, it was a shame he spoiled it so often with frowns. You could almost see the stress wrinkles already forming. You reached forward, harmlessly brushing your hands with his. He pulled his hand away like you’d burned him.

“Is everything...is everything alright Jungkook?” You asked quietly.

He couldn’t think. The world was spinning. Being in that office, being touched, watching himself in the mirror, it was already painful enough. When he looked at you, it wasn’t you that stared back, he only saw Captain Rogers. His breaths came out hurried and short.

“Look, I’m sorry if I’m pushing you to do something you don’t want to do, but going outside your comfort zone is good sometimes, okay?” You reached out once again and firmly held his hand in yours.

The brush of skin on skin made him nauseous. Your grip was suffocating. He felt like he was drowning. The room felt stuffy, his breaths came shorter and shorter. His eyes wildly gazed around your face, begging to see you and not Captain Rogers. But he only saw the old man’s yellowed grin staring back at him, his lips spewing your words. The anger was back, a simmering pot of rage.

“Don’t touch me.” He said softly.

“What?” You tilted your head, trying to understand what was happening.

“I said don’t touch me!” He ripped his hand away and stood, staggering back a couple of steps. “You don’t know anything about me!” He barked.

His hands trembled and he held his stomach, trying to hold onto its contents. The ghost touches were still there, making him bend over as he tried his best to keep down his lunch.

“Get out!” He shouted. Then his voice went quiet as he trembled. “Just get out.”

He pointed weakly towards the door and you simply nodded and left, as much as you wanted to help him.

He crumpled to the floor, taking in deep breaths as he ran his hands over his arms. I am in control. I am in control now. It was a soft chant in his head as he sat in his little office; his cage.

You couldn’t sleep. The memory of Jungkook tainted your mind. Your heart had been racing since you left his office. He hadn’t arrived for dinner, but Jin delivered it to his office. He didn’t say his usual goodnights to the rest of the crew and so the day ended bitterly. Everyone knew something was wrong with the captain and you didn’t want to pry, but you knew it had something to do with what happened today.

The utter terror he had stared at you with had made your heart drop instantly. The way he flinched when you touched him sent you tumbling into a spiral of self doubt. What mattered was no longer how he made you feel, but how you had made him feel. Was he okay? Did he eat his dinner?

You took a deep breath. With both Eun-kyung and Jungkook haunting your sleep, you could no longer rest. You stood and made your way out to the main deck. There was no wind tonight. The air was still and the ocean eerily calm. The stars twinkled brightly like a blanket of holes in the dark night. The moon was a perfect circle, providing ample light. You leaned against the side. The waves lapped playfully against the wood of the ship. There was a gentle breeze that blew through your hair every so often.

Your nightgown wasn’t the warmest thing to wear, but you didn’t plan on being out for long. It was so quiet your ears rang. There wasn’t a single soul for miles and miles. The peace was nice.

“Can’t sleep?’ The familiar rumble of the captain’s voice met you in the silence. \

His soft steps made their way to stand beside you. He leaned against the railing. Your heart thumped. You shook your head in response to his question. Jungkook let out a soft sigh.

“Yeah, me neither.” He agreed, eyes trained on the dark sea below.

You shifted awkwardly, making sure to keep your distance. You turned to him, admiring the way the shadows fell on his face in the moonlight.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t know what was happening and I pushed you. It was wrong. I’m really really sorry.” You said earnestly, hands clenched. He inhaled sharply, shutting his eyes and nodding.

“I know. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known. I’m not a very open person.” He confessed. “It was just...something that happened in the past.”

You didn’t want to pry so you nodded and left it at that. He scooted closer to you. You took a step back. He snorted.

“I’m not fragile. I just had a moment there.” The captain said, but his tone was a little saddened.

You fell silent. He shifted toward you and you didn’t move a muscle.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” Your hair was ruffled by the wind again. He was mesmerized by your beauty. Pros and cons be damned.

“You make me feel...things I didn’t think were possible.” He admitted. “I think I like you...a lot, but I was never taught love or really kindness at all growing up. So I would probably never be able to love you the way you want because I just don’t know how but-”

“Wait, you...like me?” You froze, eyes widening at the captain.

He looked more like a stuttering school boy, clearly having never matured much in the love department. You let a smile break out on your face at his almost nonexistent nod. You resisted the urge to grab his hands.

“Good, because I like you too.” You confessed, your face heating up. He grinned, then tentatively reached for your hands.

“I want to learn. I want to try, but you’ll have to be patient with me, Y/N.” He explained cautiously.

Then he carefully took your hands in his, ignoring the way his skin crawled at the contact. Your wrists. Wrists that had never had a bruise on them. His wrists. Wrists that were a permanent shade of purple and blue. He could try. For you he could try.

You returned to your room that night, your heart thumping wildly. The simplest of touches, holding hands, had sent your heart soaring. Your mind was running wild with the picture. That night, you dug the gold wedding ring out of your bag. You held it up to the moonlight, watching it shine and glint of the metal. Then you unlatched the cabin window, letting the cool air infiltrate your room.

You stuck your hand out and let go, watching as the golden ring that acted as your chain went tumbling all the way down into the water. It’s impact was a mere ripple in the dark waters.

It had been months since you set foot on land. You hadn’t missed it, not really. The swaying of the ship you had become accustomed to and as long as you had your crew, you were happy anywhere.

The dashing captain set foot next to you and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Being off the ship gave you a sense of dread. The shackles of social norms and manners were shackles to weigh on you.

“Hey, you’ll be okay.” Jungkook said calmly and you took that as a sign you should move. The other members accompanying you were Yoongi and Jin.

You were paranoid and that was only made a little better by Jungkook being there. You browsed the shops, full well knowing Jungkook could buy the whole town with his money and still have enough left over to last a lifetime. You picked up a necklace, the silver chain was made of delicate links. There was a yellow amulet attached.

Jungkook leaned over you, his skin still never touching yours. He had revealed very little about his past and even then it was rather cryptic. All you could do was assure him that whatever happened when he was growing up was wrong. From the scars on his back and arms, you could piece together a little bit of his story at least. And it wasn’t a story you wanted to read.

Jungkook fingered the jewel for a moment, turning it over in his hands. He then held it up to the sunlight and sucked in a breath. It’s genuine. He thought to himself. Then he handed it back over to you.

“You should get it.” He said quietly, his breath hot against your ear. “It suits you.”

Heat crawled up your neck and he smirked as you paid for the necklace without a second thought. The feeling of being watched didn’t disappear as you continued shopping.

“Y/N?” An all too familiar voice called. It caught you off guard, your breath hitching.

You had always thought Haneul had a similar voice to Eun-kyung. The resemblance was uncanny as your supposed fiance appeared. Jungkook immediately stood on guard, hand moving to his waistband where his gun was holstered. Haneul was not a bad guy. He was stuck in a similar predicament as you.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it’s you.” The man breathed. “Everyone thinks you died!”

“Good!” You spat, standing firmly next to Jungkook. The crowd had yet to notice the scuffle breaking out. “So where’s your back up, huh?”

“I don’t have any. I seriously didn’t expect you to be here.” Haneul held up his hands as a sign of mercy.

Jungkook didn’t loosen. It was like something bad always happened to you when you went on land. It was a little exhausting at this point.

“Please, you and I both didn’t want this, but if I don’t bring you back and marry you, I’m going to be disowned. My parents can’t have a bachelor son who couldn’t even keep track of his fiance in their image.”

You almost felt bad for him. You had both been forced into the situation and while you fled and started a new life, he was forced to bear the brunt of your actions. And for that I’m sorry. You thought, but you didn’t have the decency to voice your thoughts.

“There’s no way she’s going to marry you.” Jungkook’s eyes were wild.

He began playing the part of the maddened captain everyone saw him as. And you saw it too, just for a moment. Was there any way out of this predicament without violence? Surely Haneul would not let you simply walk away. He had been waiting a little over a year to find you and keep his head from being disowned. There was no way he was about to let you go.

“If she doesn’t, It’ll cause a massive uproar in the houses!”

“Good.” Jungkook spat.

You knew how chaotic that would be. While you were technically a pirate who cause chaos all the time, you were not a crew who did so ‘just because’. This just didn’t have a good reason. Besides, the noble houses were still a part of the hierarchy of society. What would happen if they were thrown into such unrest?

“You still have a search warrant out for you, Y/N. The prices have been upping since your departure.” Haneul spoke. You frowned in response. “It’s at 500,000 gold shillings. That’s enough to last a man most of his lifetime in comfort.”

“Yes, I know how many shillings that is.” You said bitterly.

You thought over your options. Running was out of the question. There were two of you and one of him. Your disadvantage would be running through the crowd and Haneul was always a fast runner. The second option was to stay and talk to him, but that gave him ample time to call for backup. The third option...was not one that would please Jungkook, but it was also the best way to get Haneul to stand down.

What can ya say? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Jungkook was reaching his breaking point. Your lightest touches were reversing years of mental and physical torture. While he’d never be whole ever again, you filled the space well enough. You were humming softly to yourself, a tune only you knew, as you filled in the key for the newest map.

“Y/N?” He called, watching you look up. Your eyes were curious as you stared at him. He felt his breath hitch at the way your hair fell perfectly around your face.

“What is it, Jungkook?” You asked.

“Thank you.” He said.

You tilted your head, eyebrows knitting together in the cutest expression. You set your pen down and reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. You made sure not to brush your hand against his cheek.

“For what?”

“Everything.” He said vaguely, years of practiced poise coming in between him speaking earnestly with you.

“Are you alright?” You stared intently into his eyes. You placed your hand on his forehead without thinking to check his temperature. Yet, his skin didn’t crawl at your contact. His forehead was warm, but normal, which meant he wasn’t sick.

Jungkook had a dam. It was a high wall and it built itself higher every time he held back his emotions. Behind was a swirling tide of tears and pain waiting to be released. The waters swelled once more. He bit his lip and started building the wall higher. His doe eyes widened as he tried to keep the tears at bay. When he looked into your eyes, you seemed to genuinely wonder if he was okay. When was he ever okay?

He inhaled shakily.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, shoving the papers in front of you to the side. The ink rolled onto the floor. He laced his fingers together, knees bouncing as he pondered what to say.

“Okay.” He released a breath. “I need to start at the beginning.”

When his story was told through and through, no detail spared no matter how gruesome, he finally met your gaze. In your eyes were...tears. You looked devastated and as much as you wanted to reach out and hold him, you knew how much he disliked skin on skin.

“What they did to you was wrong, Jungkook.” You said firmly, though your voice shook at the very last word. He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ve been trying to convince myself of that since I was 18. But it’s easier said than done.” He felt the dam breaking. The wall was old, cracks letting out small streams of water.

“We can help you. We’ll be with you every step of the way.” You cleared your throat. “I will be with you every step of the way.”

The captain felt like a small child under your warm gaze. He was once again a vulnerable boy, one who couldn’t understand the evils befalling him. He threw his hands over his face, scooting his chair back and curling over in his lap. His head hit his thighs to avoid your eyes. The dam broke.

Haneul was tired. Tired and angry. A year of berating, pitied looks, and whispers behind his back had let the rage build up. He let it brew, blaming it all on you. You were the reason he was being disowned. You were selfish. You put him through this. Yet, he sat next to you, a bowl of soup in front of him and an anxious crew watching.

He carefully picked it up, examining the contents. Broth. Carrots. What else was in there? It couldn’t be too bad. You watched him with a smile, knowing he was probably going through the same thought process as you had.

“And there’s nothing else in this?” He said skeptically.

“Just carrots and soup!” Jin defended. You snickered behind your hand. Jin turned and slapped your arm. “It is!”

“If that’s just carrots and soup, then I’m just a brain on wheels.” You chuckled.

“Seriously!” Jin shouted. Haneul sighed and took a sip.

He swallowed. The crew held their breaths. Then he went and took another bite. You gaped.

“Oh it’s not too bad, Jin!” Haneul smiled, but his ears were growing red. “It had a little, achem, kick.”

Jin puffed out his chest and crossed his arms. “See! You all underestimate me. Or maybe…”

“Don’t say it.” Yoongi groaned.

“I’m just saying you might just be wusses and Haneul here can actually stomach it because he has the balls.” Jin clapped the young man on his back.

The captain sputtered at that. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” The older man pointed at the captain. “You don’t have the balls to drink the soup, all of you. You just complain.”

“I bet I can drink more than you!” Taehyung pointed at Yoongi. The pale man’s face dropped, his expression of neutral impassivity.

“You’re going to lose that bet.”

Haneul watched the crew, still trying to get out of his habits as a nobleman. He needed to blend in, get you to trust him. He cleared his throat, which was still burning.

“I’m going to get a bit of fresh air.” He declared, his body still sore from spending a night in the jail. You nodded at him and he hated the happy look on your face.

Why did you get to be happy when he was miserable? Weren’t you the one who ran away from the problem? He glanced at your ring finger, but there was no glint of gold. The captain had several rings and earrings, but nothing on his ring finger. You and the captain were speaking quietly to each other. Haneul saw the captain smile when he spoke with you.

He dropped the message off the ship and prayed the tide would take it where it needed to go. Then he breathed in the sea air. He hated the ocean, always preferred land. He heard footsteps and knew it was you. You stood there, observing him for a moment.

“What are you doing?”

“Missing home.”

You narrowed your eyes. He had yet to walk the plank, he wasn’t a true crew member yet and you were allowed your reservations. You remembered Jungkook’s words. We all hold a deep love for the sea. Yet, here Haneul was moaning about home. It only helped to set in more of your suspicions.

“I get that.” You said quietly. You took a place next to him.

“I don’t understand the universe, Y/N.” He started slowly. You faced him, confusion written on your face, but he didn’t turn to face you. “You’re so happy, so free. You get to do the things you’ve always wanted to do while I’m still constrained.”

“I followed what I wanted to do. If you don’t want to live a life at sea, then we should drop you off at the nearest village and you can be on your way.” You said softly.

“You don’t understand! Y/N! You ran away from your problems! Why do I have to be punished for your mistakes?” He trembled with rage, the powerful emotion pulling at him from all edges and bursting at the seams.

“I’m sorry, Haneul.” you said, seeing how he truly felt. The anger that was dripping off of him like honey had a bittersweet taste. “I’m doing what I love and you should too.”

“I can’t be a nobleman if I’m disowned. There’s not a suitable girl within the houses for another five years.” He bit his lip and looked to the night sky. “Which is why I need to bring you back.”

You took a step away from him, itching to go back below deck.

“You can’t be serious, Haneul?”

“You had your little adventure, you got to be a pirate, yay. Now let’s go back and maybe we can salvage your reputation.”

“Reputation?” You sputtered. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m never going to go back with you.” You said furiously. “We’ll be dropping you off at the nearest village first thing.”

He turned to look at you finally. A haunting look was in his eyes.

“And how far away is the nearest village?”

“A day and night away.”

“And you really think our parents wouldn’t have sent a ship with both of us missing?” He chuckled darkly. You backed away.

“What did you do? Haneul what did you do?” You screeched, racing away as he laughed. You flung open the door to the lower deck where the crew was still eating happily.

They all stopped talking, taking in your ragged form. Immediately, Jungkook stood and went to you. He didn’t touch you, but he had concern written on his face. His gaze was steely, but you didn’t cower.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

“Where’s Haneul?” Jimin piped up.

“He tricked us.” You took a deep breath and met your lover’s gaze. “Haneul tricked us.”

Taehyung yawned, his guns resting on his lap. The ghost of Sam hovered nearby.

“You should get some sleep.” He chided.

“I know, Sam.” Taehyung grumbled. “But I have night watch and I won’t let my crew down.”

“Will a ship really attack? I think Haneul may have been bluffing.” Taehyung could almost feel his breath. The gunner shook his head.

“No can do.” He replied, fiddling with his guns.

“Then let me rest, Tae, so I don’t have to watch you do this to yourself.” The ghost pleaded. Taehyung smiled a little.

“Nope. You’re staying right here, Sam.” He murmured. The man watched the horizon. No one was in sight for miles. Maybe he would just shut his eyes for one minute.

One minute too late.

The sound of hushed voices woke him up. He knew those voices were not his crew’s. Then his eyes traveled to the brooding black ship sidled up next to them. Taehyung flung himself up, lurching towards his guns. Sam was gone. How many crews were going to be slaughtered on his watch? His heart quickened. Taehyung didn’t have time to feel the guilt of this information, he needed to act.

The gunner opened the door to the lower deck and quietly shut it behind him. Then he raced to the captain’s office.

“Come in.”

“Captain, they’re here. They’re on the upper decks, we need to attack while we still can.” Taehyung said breathlessly. Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“How did they board? Nevermind, what matters is that they’re on the ship already.” He stood and opened his drawer that had a gun in it. Then he flung open his office door. “Gather the men. We’re going to battle.”

BTS had never really been in a battle. They often had the upper hand in a situation and crews went down without a fight. But it was at this moment that you remembered that everyone in the crew could hold their own.

Yoongi held a harpoon and he was tangoing with an invader. Their figures were mere shadows in the moonlight. You had taken a knife from the kitchen, but you didn’t want to attack in case they were your men. The only sounds were the rhythmic pounding of the sea and the grunts of the men wrestling on the deck.

There were a few cracks of light as gunpowder fizzed in the air and stung your nose. It was like an awful hellscape. You stepped in a liquid and prayed it was water and not a puddle of blood. Lifting up your foot to examine, your fears were confirmed.

You sidestepped a body that was flung off the side. You knew the man to be an enemy because Jin’s face lit up in the moonlight in front of you. He was breathing heavily, a dried streak of rusty blood down his face.

“Y/N, get the rowboat ready. We need to leave, they’ve brought too many men and we’re only seven.” He shouted over the commotion.

The crack and pop of several guns went off at once, lighting the sky up with gray smoke.

Hoseok ran over, looking a little worse for wear. He had a bruise forming on his cheek and a painful gash on his arm.

“We’ve got to go, now.” He grasped your arm, trying to pull you away.

His face was serious, angry, pained. All emotions you never expected to attribute to the man. Jungkook. You turned to watch the figures. You recognized Jimin’s blonde hair.

“Jimin!” You shouted as an enemy approached him with a knife.

Jimin turned, the sweet boy looking at you with wide eyes. The cabin boy was never meant for battle.

A guttural scream of rage came from the side and the hiss of a gun going off lit up the deck. Taehyung’s face was illuminated, thoroughly pissed. He refused to hesitate again. He wouldn’t let another crew member die on his watch. He shot at the would be attacker, but you assumed it must have been adrenaline making his hand shaky.

He missed. In all your time on the ship, Kim Taehyung had never missed a shot. Everything was working against you. Taehyung jumped in front of Jimin, resulting in him getting punched in the nose, blood instantly spurting.

You tore your grasp away from Hoseok.

“Y/N, stop!”

“Hobi! The crew needs me!” You shouted, racing towards Jimin.

You pulled Taehyung up and grabbed Jimin’s arm as Jungkook shot the enemy dead.

“Tae, get up, Jimin, help him.” You wrapped a dazed Taehyung’s arm around Jimin’s shoulder.

The cabin boy nodded at you and you could see the steel behind his eyes. The timid boy was anything but timid. Jungkook ran towards you.

“Y/N, you need to get off the ship. The others are already going to the rowboat.” He said, his voice hurried and his eyes wide.

Your eyes trailed to six familiar shapes climbing into the rowboat.

“But someone needs to stay behind to release it.” You said quietly. Jungkook nodded.

“I know.”

“You can’t really be suggesting yourself, you self-sacrificing bastard?!” You shouted, feeling tears pricking at your eyes. His face was sculpted perfectly in the moonlight, a white spotlight beaming down just for him.

“Please, Y/N, I don’t have any other choice. A captain always goes down with the ship.”

“No.” You stood firmly, tired of being pushed around finally. You inhaled sharply. “I have nothing to return to. I won’t let you do this alone.”

“Y/N…I love you” He sighed and then, out of character, he drew you into a hug. Your breath hitched. His skin didn’t crawl at the touch. “Please don’t do this.” He whispered.

“I love you too, Jungkook, but-” You started, rubbing his back. You looked over his shoulder. “Jungkook!” You screeched. The man tensed in your hold, turning around just in time to see the figure coming towards him.

Everything slowed.

The captain pushed you away, and faced the man. There was this terrible high pitched noise in the background. The last enemy had found you and you recognized him. Myung-suk. And there were more coming. The glint of steel meeting flesh flashed in your eyes. You reached out for him, your lover. His face went pale.

His inky black hair glistened in the moonlight. His blood stained the floorboards and there was still the screeching sound. You met his eyes one last time. His lips mouthed ‘it’s okay’.The man threw the captain’s lifeless body off the side of the ship. The screeching sound, you’d come to realize, were your own screams. His body was nothing more than a ripple in the sea.

The world went back into motion. You immediately kicked the young soldier in the chest, effectively winding him like you’d seen Namjoon do once or twice. Then you took a big fistful of his shirt and pushed him off the side of the ship, not hearing his cries over your own. You whispered a prayer for Jungkook and cursed Myung-suk.

May Jungkook become one with the sea and may Poseidon have no mercy on the man with the bloodied knife. Your hands shook, pain overtaking your mind. You didn’t have time to sob. The ship was headed towards the rocks. The crew was still in the rowboat, waiting for someone to release them.

Mourning would get you nowhere. Despite the aching cavity in your chest, your crew needed you. He would have wanted that. So you refused the urge to dive right into the sea after him. You just wanted to be one with the sea, to let it wash over your wounds. Instead, you ran down the decks you had spent the last year of your life on. The ghostly memories of your crewmates flooded back to you.

You saw Namjoon first, his memory turning to look at you.

Ah, you’re the new crew member, I see? Welcome to the family.

You swiped at your eyes. Yoongi’s ghostly form stood, his harpoon in hand, the memory reminding you of sunny days.

Y/N, stop looking at me like that. If you want to know how to fish, I’ll show you. Here, c’mere.

You let another teardrop fall. The wheel sat empty as you passed it. Hoseok’s memory stood there, turning the ship, whispering with Jimin.

Y/N! Want to dance?

Jimin smiled, his eyes crinkling wonderfully.

Y/N, I’m sorry for sleeping on the job last night. Thanks for covering for me!

His chuckle was beautiful. Seokjin had his hands on his hips.

I didn’t put anything in that soup, you wusses. He argued.

Taehyung leaned his head on the side of the ship.

It’s nothing, just a nightmare.

You tried to breathe, but the worst memory was next.

The sky seemed to clear as you went through it once more. A well built man stood on the end of the ship. The night of gunpowder fell away. His hair ruffled in the wind. He turned to you, a smile on his face, doe eyes crinkling in delight. Jungkook held out his hand, his captain attire as crisp as ever.

Are you ready, little miss?

And you almost took his hand.

You tore your eyes away, turning to where the crew now rested. Six in the boat, one at the bottom of the sea, one staying on the ship. You started lowering the ropes, ignoring the shouts of the crew. You felt a ghostly presence and you just knew it was him. Jungkook placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the motions.

“Sh, it’s going to be alright. Stop shaking, love. You’re doing so well.” He whispered words of praise.

“Y/N, stop, just climb aboard.” Namjoon’s words suddenly hit you. You stared incredulously at the man.

“So we can all die?” You shouted. Tears traced their way down your cheeks. “Namjoon, do you trust me?”

The man looked unsure, a pain behind his eyes. He looked down at the sea, his eyes drifting to the place his oldest friend perished. He looked devastated. And he was. His heart was breaking open for the young boy who deserved better, the boy who despite all odds, worked to make a name for himself. But above all, he was glad that his body was resting in the waves of the place he loved the most; The sea. He couldn’t mourn, he had to do his job as a first mate. He had to become the leader the crew needed. He couldn’t hesitate and let them all perish. You weren’t budging either.

Did he trust you?

“Yes.” He responded softly. You nodded and let the ropes fall, placing the boat gently into the water.

You couldn’t stop the tremble of your hands. All you wanted to do was cry, fall to the floor and let the sobs overtake your body. The boat drifted into the ocean and the rope fell away. The other ship blasted a hole into the side of BTS. You tumbled to the ground, sobs finally wracking your body. You watched the rowboat headed toward the shore.

“Get up.” Jungkook urged. “Y/N, get up.” His voice was firm, his ghost as clear as day.

“Jungkook, I-”

“You shouldn’t have, love. I should’ve been there.” He whispered. “You should find another way out. Don’t sacrifice yourself for a foolish captain like me.” You could almost hear his sheepish smile.

You stood, placing your hands on the side of the ship and watching the water come closer. You sniffled, letting your stomach drop as the ship sunk farther. Your eyes were glossy with tears, your heart shattered, so with all the courage left in your body, you turned to face his ghost. You hair flew in the breeze and the moment was of peaceful contrast to moments before.

“No, I’m going down with the ship.”

You were falling. The world seemed to slow, going still as if you had halted in mid air. The waves welcomed you home, embracing you to your bones. Taehyung’s smile, Jin’s laugh, Yoongi’s quiet nods, Hoseok’s dancing, Jimin’s eyes, Namjoon’s voice, Jungkook’s face.

They held you close, but Jungkook’s ghost held you the tightest as the rest faded away. When you looked up, there was no shadowy figure diving in to save you. It was just dark, the light of the sinking BTS illuminating the water.

The ghost of his lips hovered over yours as the sky sank farther out of reach. Your lungs filled with water, body finally being overtaken with the sea. Black ink fell across your vision as Jungkook’s ghost whispered words of praise. A bittersweet ending to the ship of the Bulletproof Boy Scouts.

You glimpsed his face, his ethereal body hovering above you, now one with the ocean. The crew had always been a mess, a tragically beautiful mess, but him, most of all.

Sea and the rock below Cocked to the undertow Bones, blood and teeth erode With every crashing node

Taglist: @lovelyseomin @yoongi-sugaglider @merakiiverse

#bts #bts x reader #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook x reader #Jungkook #JK #tatawrites #pirate au #fluff #angst #Down With The Ship #major character death

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amberskywrites · 4 years

Text

Burnt Edges

Masterpost

Pairing: Sokka/Zuko

Fandom / Genre: ATLA / Soulmate AU

Warnings: Abusive parents, Past physical abuse, Childhood trauma, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Discussion of trauma (minor this part, more prevalent in next part)

Notes: This was for @willowaudreykeyes 100 follower DTYS! Second part should be coming eventually, because I do want to write them actually getting together soon 😅

Part One || Part Two

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

Soulmarks.

Sokka wasn’t too interested in them, not as much as all the grown-ups and his sister and the little kids who were told wondrous stories of old about people finding their true love. Sokka was more interested in science, how to fight, how to survive a war. Most of the stories the older people in the village told them ended tragically, anyway. Most of their soulmates had died, their marks a bright white to signify that.

He had been fascinated with them when he was really, really young. He loved hearing his mom and dad talk about how they met or how they found out they were soulmates. It was a boring story, at least that’s what they said, but Sokka loved it. It was such an important event, and his parents had found out they were soulmates in the most mundane way possible, and he loved that their love seemed so simple.

Sokka had wanted to find his soulmate. For years, he really wanted to. He had dual swords crossing over one another, water droplets looking to be engraved into the handles.

But Sokka would never get the chance to meet them. Because at the age of twelve, his soulmark turned from black to white.

It had terrified Sokka that his soulmark had turned white when he wasn’t even a teenager yet. His soulmate couldn’t be dead, right? They must have been as young as him. A kid somewhere in the world had been killed and Sokka knew that because he had felt a hot pain shoot up his spine and as soon as he saw the mark on his lower back he discovered it to be white as a pearl.

The mark suddenly stopped being that comforting to Sokka. Instead it manifested nightmares that his sister or Grangran would have to help calm the boy down. It had felt like someone had burned him, when the mark turned white. Was that how his soulmate had died? Scorched by a fire? Sokka wouldn’t dismiss the idea. He knew the fire nation was full of some of the cruelest people. He wouldn’t put it past them to scorch a child to death.

Sokka had lost interest in his soulmate, almost forgetting that he had one in the first place. He wondered a lot why anyone cared about soulmates now though. Too many people had white marks scorched into their lower backs, and others knew their soulmates could be anywhere in the vast world, in the middle of a war, and what were they going to do? Risk being murdered by checking every nation for their soulmate? It didn’t seem worth it.

Three years went by. The pitying looks from his tribe stopped appearing because they had to accept it at some point, hell, they probably assumed it would happen to one of the kids sooner or later. Sokka trained and trained and trained the best he could to become a warrior. His skills were awful, he knew that, but he had to try. He never got the chance to meet his soulmate, never got a chance to try and protect them. He wanted to at least protect his tribe and his family.

He had to make a change of plans once Aang came into the picture. Katara was a determined and stubborn and fierce girl, but he was still her big brother. He didn’t feel right letting her go off with Aang on her own, and she was definitely not going to be content in just letting the little airbender boy leave.

In their free time between each destination, conversations always returned to soulmarks. It didn’t annoy Sokka really, he was fine listening to them talk about their marks and wonder who Katara’s soulmate could be (Aang appeared to not have a soulmark). Aang had asked about Sokka’s mark. If he had any guesses as to who his soulmate could be, or what he thought they might be like. Sokka just shrugged and showed his mark to Aang. The airbender had been surprised when he had learned Sokka’s mark was white, and for a little while the talk of soulmarks seemed to stop.

Toph had a soulmark, but it was still pitch black. She had yet to meet her soulmate, and Sokka really wasn’t surprised, considering how protective her parents were. Toph didn’t seem to care, though, because why should a mark dictate who you were supposed to fall in love with? She claimed she’ll marry earthbending instead of some random person.

And then Zuko joined the team.

He never said anything about his soulmark, even after everyone began trusting him. Even when they asked, he just said he didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he’d turn his attention to Aang and start telling him where he needed to improve on his firebending, much to the others’ amusement and Aang’s frustration.

Sokka didn’t really care about Zuko’s mark at first. So what if the fire nation prince didn’t want to share? It was probably some noble fire bender, or maybe even Mai. Sokka knew the two had dated, and Mai had saved them for crying out loud because she apparently still loved Zuko! But Sokka thought that, if Mai was his soulmate, Zuko would have been fine with sharing. Sokka believed he was right, but he couldn’t be completely sure.

He would never admit that the reason he wanted Mai to not be his soulmate was because he wanted to stand a chance. Sokka knew when he started liking someone. He thought this would have just been a fleeting crush, one that would be over and done with in a few days or a couple of weeks. But the feeling didn’t go away. Instead it grew. It grew into warm cheeks and tumbling over words, a smile appearing anytime he saw Zuko laugh and his eyes lingered on the prince more and more with each passing day.

Sokka tried seeing Zuko’s mark, too. He remembered Mai’s because of a close fight he had gotten in a little while ago, and it had been very distinct, a flaming ring circling around a crown made of daggers. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it was Zuko’s mark as well. Something as stunning and intimidating looking would match Zuko’s personality just as much as it fit Mai’s.

But Zuko’s mark was hidden.

All the time.

And Sokka hated that he couldn’t find out if he was right.

He’d never been more curious about soulmarks until then.

Finally, he broke, and had caught Zuko just after training when Zuko was about to head into the house. The others were all down at the beach to relax, but Zuko had wanted to take a bit of time to himself. At least, that’s what he had hoped. But Zuko’s plans were stopped dead as Sokka caught his wrist. It wasn’t a tight grip, but Zuko still looked at him in confusion and a twinge of annoyance flashed through his eyes.

“Hey Zuko, can you stop that?”

Zuko blinked, brows furrowing and a frown gracing his face. “Stop doing… what exactly?”

“Stop hiding your damn soulmark. I want to see if I’m right.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand away, folding his arms over his chest. “Right about what?”

Sokka bit his lip, his hands going to his hips as he huffed softly. “If you and Mai are soulmates! Or just, I really want to know what your soulmark looks like. Or why you of all people won’t show anyone.”

The watertribe boy watched as the young prince’s face softened for a moment, and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Well, I can tell you you’re wrong about Mai and I. We’re not soulmates. Her soulmates are Ty Lee and Azula.”

Sokka did not sigh a little in relief. He did not.

“Then you know who your soulmate is?”

Zuko shook his head, and Sokka’s heart skipped a beat. He watched Zuko worry at his bottom lip before speaking again, and Sokka thought his brain stopped working for a second hearing Zuko’s words.

“I doubt I’ll ever meet them. Or know if I do. So, to tell you why I don’t show my mark to anyone, there’s honestly no point in me showing it.”

Sokka felt the memories of years ago creep back into his mind. He never liked telling anyone for awhile that his soulmate was dead. That must be why Zuko didn’t want to talk about his soulmate, they must be dead too.

Or know if I do.

That sounded odd to Sokka, thinking about it. If Zuko’s soulmate was dead, there would be no chance of them meeting. Right?

“Wait, is your mark white too then?”

Zuko shook his head. Sokka’s brow creased as he tried to think of how Zuko would not know if he met his soulmate if his mark wasn’t white.

“Then how do you know?”

Zuko glanced away from Sokka, hands tightening on his upper arms for a moment before he relaxed. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong, Zuko knew this. He wasn’t the first person to experience this. But it still felt awkward talking about it, especially after hundreds of people made a point not to ask him. Because most people knew already in the fire nation.

“My mark was burned off.”

Sokka’s eyes widened at the admission, and he tried to catch Zuko’s gaze but Zuko kept his eyes on the bushes that lined the nearby wall.

“It’s another form of punishment, I guess.”

“... Punishment?” Sokka thought he may regret asking.

“From the fire lord for disobeying. Why do you think Azula stays in line so much? I think father did it to me to scare her into listening more, because she started to show more emotion a few years back that father didn’t quite like.”

“Your-” Sokka’s words caught in his throat. “Your father did that to you?”

Zuko hummed, nodding. “I know some other people have also had their marks burned off, but they’re hard to find because they don’t show off their marks either.”

Sokka didn’t seem to be listening, though. His hand tangled in his hair as he processed that Zuko’s mark had been burned off.

“What- do you know what happens to your soulmate’s mark after yours has been burned?”

Zuko tilts his head, thinking. “I think it mimics them being dead. But I’m not too sure. That’s just what mother told me before she left. Azula and I just thought it was a sad legend or something though.”

Sokka was quiet for a few moments, trying to process Zuko’s words. How many people thought their soulmates were dead, but in actuality something had just happened to them right on their soulmark? He had never heard of something like it, but it made sense, he thought. If the soulmark was somehow removed from someone, it made sense the matching soulmarks would turn white. Because the soulmark would be dead, right.

What if his soulmate was still alive?

Sokka barely noticed Zuko leave him.

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roselen-mylady · 4 years

Text

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt.

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof.

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway.

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was.

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was.

Was James that person once?

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions.

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her.

It wasn't.

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest.

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside.

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt.

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death.

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to.

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses."

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer.

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above.

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n.

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing.

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew.

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve.

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was.

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause.

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue.

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds.

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself.

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else.

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was.

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky.

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice.

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment.

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction.

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained.

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet.

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work?

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it.

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him.

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve.

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her.

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying?

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough.

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back."

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay."

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation.

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod.

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her.

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here?

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously.

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively.

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected.

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself.

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm.

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting.

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it.

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers.

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others.

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him.

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand.

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently.

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm.

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side.

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb.

Did it work?

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won.

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?

Were his eyes really blue?

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way.

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart.

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony.

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing.

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak.

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly.

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too.

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab.

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin.

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn.

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her.

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained.

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be.

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment.

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside.

"Just find the stones."

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again.

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist.

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her.

He had to make it through this time.

No matter what.

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield.

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers.

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area.

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones.

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her.

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water.

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster.

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms.

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them.

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n.

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side.

"Being an Avenger hurts."

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces.

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last.

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better.

He'd suffered for a lifetime.

Please let this be the last fight.

"Assemble."

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him.

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm?

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him.

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures.

"Nothing two old men can't handle."

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

@silver-winter-wolf

@whatifwedo

@arguedquill1226

@lunashaw57

@loushkspr

@3aileypage

@mela-noche

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gwenbrightly · 4 years

Text

It’s the Thought That Counts... Right???

Here’s a short oneshot I wrote inspired by a discussion we were having about post MoTO Garmadon trying to understand holiday traditions.

“Would you like to come in out of the cold… sir?” a tavern keeper called, sticking her head through the doorway of a nearby building. She was staring at him. People always stared at Garmadon, even when he had hidden his oni form under a cloak or other manner of disguise. It wasn’t like it was his fault he was so tall and bulky. Or that he had an extra set of appendages.

He muttered a quick,

“Thank you,” – that was the term used to express gratitude, right? – before following her into the tavern. He couldn’t help but relax as the warmth from the fireplace on the other side of the room washed over him. Music softly played a song about someone named Santa. Garmadon didn’t know who that was, but the villagers must have, because several of them were singing along.

He wandered to a far corner of the tavern and seated himself in a booth. Might as well get comfortable while he warmed himself. Garmadon allowed himself a moment to simply listen to the music and empty his brain of the confusing thoughts and questions about life that so often filled his days. It was nice to relax and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of the tavern.

“So, stranger, can I get you anything?” the tavern keeper, who’s name tag read Mauve, asked him after a few minutes.

“I’ll take the strongest black coffee you have,” Garmadon answered. He could have ordered tea, he supposed, but it was far more fun to spite his brother. Even if Wu wasn’t actually here to gasp dramatically at his sin.

“Would you like any creamer or sugar?”

Garmadon shook his head in the negative. Mauve scribbled something on her notepad and disappeared into what he assumed was the kitchen.

As he waited for her to return, Garmadon glanced about the tavern. Mauve certainly had an odd taste in decor. The walls were lined with strands of greenery and little red berries. There was a tree coated in glittery froufrou near the fireplace. Why anyone would put a tree indoors was beyond him. And why decorate said tree? What purpose could it possibly serve?

“Here’s your coffee, sir,” Mauve announced, pulling Garmadon from his thoughts. She set his drink down on the table, and next to it, an oddly shaped white and red striped object. He stared at it in confusion.

“What is this?” he wanted to know. Mauve had the audacity to laugh as she replied,

“Have you… never seen a candy cane before?”

For the first time in a long time, Garmadon had a sudden desire to stab something. With immense self restraint, he decided to focus on the issue that was least likely to get him arrested – the nature of this… cane made of candy.

“Candy cane?” he repeated, trying to hide his curiosity. Mauve smiled at him.

“Yes. It’s a peppermint flavored sugar made in the shape of a cane. Candy canes are a Christmas staple.”

Christmas. Garmadon vaguely remembered overhearing talk of the holiday in one of the other villages he’d passed through. It was another mystery of the universe he had yet to unravel.

“Ah.”

“Well, if you need anything else, I’ll be over working the counter.” Mauve said, nodding her head towards the bar, where several families sat doing… something. Garmadon waited until she was gone to unwrap the candy cane and give it a tentative lick. Too sweet, yet somehow bitter at the same time. He wasn’t impressed. Taking a swig of coffee to rid himself of the taste, he stared out the window at the snowflakes that lazily drifted on the winter breeze. Most humans would probably say the view was beautiful. As much as he hated to admit it, he was beginning to see why they enjoyed the season so much.

15 minutes and an entire cup of coffee later, Garmadon meandered towards the bar. Staring out the window could only hold his attention for so long before he grew bored and now he was looking for something new to occupy him. Mauve glanced up from the papers she was folding.

“Ready for a refill?”

“Thank you, but no,” Garmadon told her, tossing a few coins on the counter as payment for his drink. The tavern keeper nodded thoughtfully.

“Would you like to join us in making Christmas cards, then?” she inquired motioning at the array of materials being used by several of the tavern’s patrons, “You don’t seem like the type, but I’m happy to get you the supplies if you’re interested.”

Garmadon eyed her skeptically.

“Tell me about these… Christmas cards.”

“You really don’t know much about Christmas, do you?” Mauve commented, more to herself than to him. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I…”

“That’s okay! We’ll teach you all about it!” offered the child sitting on the nearest stool, giving him a huge grin.

“You really don’t have to-” Garmadon began to protest. Mauve cut him off.

“Oh, no. Kelly is right. We’re teaching you how to make Christmas cards, and then you’re learning at least one Christmas carol.”

Garmadon groaned, but half-heartedly allowed himself to be taught the arts of card making. It wouldn’t be his best work, oh no, for he definitely wasn’t ready to admit that he maybe kind of cared about Lloyd – or for Lloyd to realize that he cared. But it was a start. After all, people kept telling him there was more to life than surviving.

______________________

Thunk! Thunk! Bang!

“We must have a visitor,” noted Lloyd just as a snowball hit him in the face. “Rude,” he complained. Kai sniggered, earning him a vicious glare from both his sister and the Green Ninja.

Bang! There was another knock on the gates.

“Perhaps we should call a truce and let whoever is out there in before they break the gates down,” Zane suggested before Lloyd could plan a counterattack. Cole nodded, dropping his own snowball as he spoke.

“That’s probably wise.”

The others sighed, but refrained from continuing their snowball fight. Their companions were right and they were curious to see who had made the icy trek up the mountainside to the monastery. Lloyd shot Kai his best we’ll continue this later and made for the gates just as another knock sounded.

“Could you be any more impatient?” he muttered under his breath. Giving one of the gates a tug inward, he was greeted by the mailman, who was looking at his wristwatch in annoyance.

“About time,” the mailman said, brushing past Lloyd without saying hello.

“Hello, Mr. Mailman! Would you like to come inside for some hot cocoa?” Zane greeted brightly. The mailman shook his head vigorously.

“No, no. I have lots of other deliveries to make, what with it being the holidays and all. Not to mention, I’m not entirely convinced this package doesn’t contain a bomb, and I’d rather not stick around to find out,” he replied hurriedly. The ninja glanced at each other.

“Why?” “Who’s it for?”

Cole and Jay asked at the same time.

“The package is addressed to the Green Ninja himself,” the mailman stated, shoving it at Lloyd with considerable delicacy, “if it is a bomb, please don’t bother filing a complaint with the Bureau of Mail Delivery and Package Sending. Remember. I’m just the messenger,” and with that, the mailman was gone.

“That was… odd,” commented Nya, raising an eyebrow. Lloyd hummed thoughtfully as he stared at the package the mailman had been so desperate to be rid of.

“It’s the mailman, sis. He’s always kinda kooky if you ask me,” Kai said, unconcerned. Silence fell as the group gathered around their brother to get a closer look at the package.

“It’s – it’s from my father…” Lloyd announced after a moment, completely shocked. No one knew quite how to respond to this news. The last time they’d seen Garmadon had been while Lloyd was still unconscious after the battle with the Oni. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. And to be perfectly honest, no one was really sure they could trust the warlord not to continue his deceitful ways.

“Ah. Well, that explains the mention of a potential bomb threat, then,” Zane observed.

“Yeah…” Lloyd coughed awkwardly.

“So… are you gonna chuck it off the mountain and watch for a mushroom cloud? Or are you gonna open it and hope for the best?” Jay asked ever so tactfully. Lloyd thought for a moment before replying.

“Hhh… Kai, do me a favor and grab those tongs you keep in the forge. We’re gonna need em’.”

The master of fire was quick to follow Lloyd’s instructions and returned momentarily with a sturdy, and especially long, pair of tongs. Everyone took a step back as Lloyd set the package in a patch of snow away from anything important (his uncle would kill him if he accidentally set something on fire so close to Christmas). He gripped the tongs tightly and edged them carefully toward one end of the package.

“Here goes nothing,” Lloyd whisperer, snagging a flap of packaging and ripping it upwards. The seconds ticked by, but nothing exploded, beeped, or vibrated. He poked the package. Still, nothing. Curiosity getting the better of him, Lloyd pulled the rest of the dirty brown wrapping away from the contents of the package.

“Candy canes?” Lloyd couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Why on earth would Garmadon send him candy canes?

“There’s a card, too,” Nya said, plucking an envelope from the torn packaging. She passed it to Lloyd, who tentatively opened it.

“Dear Loyd,

The anoying villagers here tell me it is customarie to send cards to people you… people you’re related to. I don’t know why I’m alloweing them to dictate my life, but here:” Lloyd read aloud from the front of the folded piece of paper, struggling to make sense of the messy handwriting and questionable spelling. And, more so, struggling to understand what was happening. He had long ago lost any hope that he and Garmadon could ever go back to what they had once been. Had believed that their formerly loving relationship was permanently dead.

Biting his lip, Lloyd unfolded the envelope. The drawing inside was quite possibly the most hilariously insulting caricature of himself that Lloyd had ever seen. His initial shock at receiving a gift (?) from Garmadon was replaced with a squeak of laughter. He couldn’t help it; the image was simply too much for him to take.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Cole asked, concerned by Lloyd’s sudden change in demeanor.

“I-I don’t know,” Lloyd half laughed, half cried. He held out the card so the others could see.

“That’s sure… something else,” Nya commented.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize you had 4 arms, Lloyd,” Kai added, perhaps a bit too entertained by the interesting features Garmadon had given his brother. Nya viciously elbowed his side, but he shrugged unrepentantly. “What? It’s true.”

“Permission to laugh?” Jay asked. He was still ogling the image and Lloyd could tell he was only barely reigning himself in.

“I. Yeah, sure. Go ahead,” Lloyd relented, “I guess it is a pretty hilarious drawing.”

As Jay and Kai took full advantage of the invitation to let their true feelings show, Nya turned to Lloyd.

“Guess you won’t be forgetting this Christmas any time soon, huh?” she asked, a wry smile on her face. Lloyd laughed softly. Maybe this whole thing was a prank, maybe Garmadon had simply wanted to mess with him. But maybe, just maybe, his father was finally learning to care about someone other than himself. And that was a thought Lloyd could cling to on Christmas morning, when he felt the absence of those he had lost most keenly. A thought that gave him hope that perhaps someday, his family might possibly be complete again.

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #Garmadon tries to understand Christmas #It has.... mixed results #but he's trying #Lloyd is rightfully confused #Sorry for not including the pizza Vy #Myfics #validate meee #ninjago christmas fic

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 4 years

Text

we wake with the intent to find enlightenment

Eret was what any sensible Minecraft server would call a "player of games," descending from the first slayers of the Dragon that dreamed hard enough to achieve the highest level. He was the epitome of what the voices whispered in their little poem.

Well, he was supposed to be.

In a sudden new development of powers, Eret converses and looks back on conversations to finally figure himself out, to finally wake up.

(read on AO3)

chapter 1: and all those sparkles in my eyes still remain

When you talk with enough people, you are forced to think.

When you think hard enough, you are forced to change.

Eret did not mean to trim away (or make disappear, based on his witness) all the leaves from the trees in his castle garden with a flick of his hand, but he just did.

He neared one bald trunk and touched the branches. It was odd how clean the cut was.

He reckoned that something about his person changed that caused the phenomenon to happen.

That kind of change had not happened since he was still growing up when he was as young as the few children on the server, most of whom he loved fervently.

The first time he knew he was different from the other children, human or otherwise, was the white of his eyes, which were aglow perpetually and unnatural enough to make people, who didn’t have the family eyes, unnerved around him. At some point, people began to flee at the sight of him.

Perhaps it’s the legend that one relative of his that he had made for himself— yeah, that’s right.

That said relative had remarkable power and chose to make himself a nightmare amongst servers, which was a feat no one in his immediate family, with their own powers, chose to do. None of them had that kind of audacity.

Neither did he, who then just decided to chop down the naked trees, planting new ones in their place.

The mystery of the kin who had Eret’s blood could make monsters, villains, but also heroes, leaders, gods even! They’re the epitome of dreaming, of what man should be in the sandboxes that Minecraft offered. Eret, by blood, descended from those who lived fully through uncovering the hidden truths from that so-called poem, the poem a server would whisper to those who, when the dragon of that server’s End is slain, actually save the End in question.

Eret’s power gave him a particular knowledge when he first stepped into the Dream SMP, a knowledge that framed him as an alien god trapped in the fragile clay that was the average Dream SMP mortal. It’s knowledge of the End but knowing the art of respect (and in that knowledge, not breaking the rules concerning its restriction).

Despite all that, Eret was left still trying to figure whatever the fuck he was. She was? They were?

Eret was, as far as he knew, something .

Wilbur said he was a traitor.

Dream said he was a king.

Everyone else said he was a puppet.

He made himself a historian.

He was something. Some...things?

Eret knew that he and he alone dictated his identity. He did not know whether he was happy with what he gathered, with what he made, with what he was.

Blinking back into reality, Eret dropped his enchanted netherite axe, leaves now restored. He hadn’t even begun cutting down the trunks!

“Okay, this is getting weird,” He remarked, picking up his axe and placing it back in his inventory.

He then walked back into the quarters of his castle, heading into that hidden boudoir where he did his more private and intimate matters concerning his person.

Armor off, then after some consideration, robe off as well.

In his regality and decoration, Eret always felt most like himself wearing gray shirts and blue jeans. It was bland, (as one drunk Wilbur Soot once whispered to him playfully, during one of those nights before everything went wrong,) but it was comfortable.

The mirror of the boudoir was massive, reaching the room’s high ceilings, making Eret’s figure so small from within the room’s walls.

Eret picked up his crown from off his head and took a good look at it. The marks of enchantment on the golden material resembled blood splatter, the pretty, intricately-carved jewels covered in beautifully contrasting impurities.

Now, the SMP’s other known leaders, or at least those most fascinated by its powers? They were intriguing to Eret, many of them possessing skills he wished he himself had. In their crafts and games, it was odd how Eret never could hold his own against them.

Eret’s craft was a museum. Unlike symphonies, it had the right to remain forever unfinished. It depended on housing so many stories—there were too many stories left unsalvageable.

Eret’s game was the game of Jacks. As bad as he was at the game, it was the game he can’t help but choose to play. The ball is bouncy just as his crown is heavy, the bones in hands as little as the friends he actually had.

The (let’s be real here,) crown of thorns—the Crown which was currently in Eret’s possession—both allured and terrified, like a bomb waiting to be used, waiting to blow up.

Bombs made Eret remember a conversation with Tubbo and Captain Puffy on a visit to Snowchester.

“Independent?” Eret picked up the Declaration of Independence on the podium, reading the haphazard handwriting of the founder of Snowchester.

“Have you come to contest it, your majesty?” Tubbo approached from behind him with a snarking tone; pulling with him on a lead was a bay horse that Puffy was riding on.

“Well, no, as nothing of any harm is,” The nukes, ”um, well-“

“Yes, we are peaceful, aren’t we?” Tubbo maintained his tone.

“Besides the nukes, Tubbo?” Puffy interjected.

“It’s a deterrent!” The teen repeated, “Like I said earlier, Eret. I’ve got them decommissioned and we don’t want any trouble.”

“Yeah, I can see how you’d come to that kind of protection,” Eret remembered Doomsday, “though I would request—actually no, recommend you communicate with me if you are going to use them at any point.”

“For what?”

“The help would be needed. You never know.” Eret was reminded of an equally alien red. Tubbo had mentioned seeing some growths on his land during their earlier conversation.

“I never do know, don’t I?”

Eret chuckled lightly, “Well, Tub-”

Tubbo suddenly smacked the ewe off the horse, much to her dismay.

“Tubbo! That hurt!”

“Thank you for getting off my horse,” Tubbo said, absurdly and frankly.

“Are you alright, Puffy?” Eret quickly went to pick her up, only for Puffy to be standing when he was at a reasonable distance from her.

“I’m good, I’m good.”

Puffy was quite a character. Her request of resignation was something he happily allowed, as her disillusionment with the server certainly coincided with his. He made no public spectacle of it (though to be fair, he never made a spectacle of his knight table, to begin with,) but had a meal with Puffy for it.

This was the price of an unannounced excursion. You leave for a month to make sense of all the chaos you’ve had to endure healthily only to come back to an even worse Dream SMP.

You have come back negligent. Wasn’t the break supposed to make you a better ruler?

Eret remembered welcoming Puffy when she first arrived, disheveled and a bit of a klutz, though nonetheless friendly.

Of course, who wouldn’t be a mess joining the Greater SMP, most especially after a historical act of political terrorism?

Eret quickly repressed the thought of Wilbur, though the dead fellow’s charisma seemed to leak out of Puffy’s excitability. She acted much like him, much like he was before Eret had hurt him: quick to founding family, being a shoulder to cry on, quick to burn when necessary, being a paragon of hope against tyranny and towards peace.

Captain Puffy had long wooly locks, brown and highlighted with a prismatic shade of white. She hid her eyes behind glasses like his, enigmatic like himself, surely? This ewe walked into the server with a friendly, warm wool onesie of many colors, reflected in her horns and hooves.

Eret’s shock was reasonable when she came to their little arranged meal together in a brand new costume.

She looked so much like Wilbur, as attractive as him, even. This was the man who had the ambition to fight tyranny through a division Eret thought at the time as dangerous.

The reminder can no longer be avoided.

In some way, Eret felt he was correct about the effect of L’Manburg, of it being a further cause of division in a server that didn’t need to create factions but to simply negotiate with words—to coexist and be passive and not be so Goddamn stubborn.

Dream and Wilbur, in their disagreements, agreed they were both unbelievably stubborn. Too mortal, too measly, two mere men...Eret found it awful how they fashioned themselves as immovable objects. He, for one, belonged to a race of men far more powerful than that of the two, and yet they had the audacity! What are simple server owners and the children of angels to dreamers? To the descendants of those who had taken the universe’s whims to heart? To the same brood that begotten the nightmare known as Herobrine?

Eret was something, but that something was not Herobrine, that’s for sure.

Wilbur could only handle so much. L’Manburg could only handle so much.

The stains of betrayal still prod and cry at Eret before his very eyes.

Nevermind. Eret wasn’t as sure, now that he thought harder about it.

He huffed to himself. He was being fickle.

Captain Puffy was quite fickle. She bent and broke like him, if her resignation as a knight was of any indication. She mothers a god but is so ever mortal and yet is so humble. People and happiness mattered to her, and that was why Eret loved her.

The tricorn hat and the long coat, worn out by what seemed to be the waters of storms instead of the fires of war, were an ashen color, black like obsidian, and were punctuated with gold pads, embroidery, and buttons.

She wore glasses like his, in that through certain angles, semi-hid eyes of enchanted prismarine. As we know, Eret’s glasses hid a blinding, mythical pair of whites.

“That’s quite the look there,” Eret remarked at the sight of her, almost tempted to blush.

“Yeah,” Puffy failed to hide her hesitance, “I, um, thought I needed a wardrobe change.”

“You didn’t have to dress up for this, you know?”

“I know, I know,” Puffy put a lock behind her ear, “This is just—how do I put this? Um, a necessity.”

He was about to jokingly question whether she was going to war, but then stopped himself in realization.

“I see. Come,” He gestured to her to follow him towards the table and food he set up before her arrival.

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #we wake with the intent to find enlightenment #eret #captainpuffy #tubbo #wilbur soot #/roleplay

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bffsoobin · 4 years

Text

Windflower

01|02|03|04|05|06

↳ after a heartbreak you find yourself in a small town looking for purpose. you find employment with Choi Soobin and his impressive ancestral home. when you start to fall in love again, there’s no way for you to predict what you find in the depths of the home and Soobin’s mind.

➤ hanahaki au, fluff, angst

Word Count:1,568

Warnings: mentions of food, some swearing, mentions of past relationships/unrequited love, mentions of surgery (not in detail). General warning that its 11 pm here and for me that’s late (old lady alert) and I didn’t proofread as usual.

A/N: Another character building chapter! There is very important info about both Soobin and reader in here, so make sure you pay attention and read well!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Dinner was surprisingly good, given the two of you had just thrown a frozen pizza in the oven. He had fussed adorably over adding extra cheese to the meal before popping it into the shiny appliance. It was easy to tell Soobin still felt awkward due to almost seeing you naked because he kept at least 5 feet of distance between your bodies for a long while. His skittish nature made it difficult for you to help set the table, but you let it slide. You don't know much about him; so it felt wrong to pass judgement on the way he couldn’t even keep eye contact for a while. It was okay, though, because his behavior still managed to rustle up glee in your stomach. The pizza was one of the best meals you had eaten in days, and you thanked Soobin profusely for it. He smiled awkwardly, waving you off with a joke about owing him breakfast in the morning. His personality had brightened ten shades with the help of food and his favorite tv show on the big screen television mounted on the wall of the living room. He had a whole pint of Half Baked ice cream open on the coffee table that was just for him. He had offered to share, but you turned him down upon seeing the absolutely ravenous look on his face; worried that he would combust on the spot if you didn’t let him have the pint to himself. So you settled for watching the show absentmindedly until your mind began to wander. Intrigued by the contrast between the home’s age and the modern interior, you finally decided to ask Soobin.

“Did someone do renovations here?” You mentally slapped yourself. Well duh, Y/N. Soobin’s ancestors who posed for oil portraits that now hung in ornate golden frames certainly didn’t install the stainless steel refrigerator and pick out the large leather sectional you were currently lounging on. He didn’t seem to catch the poor wording of your question as he nodded from his spot on the couch next to you with his legs tucked underneath him. You couldn’t help but notice how adorable he looked sitting that way.

“Yeah, my cousin did most of that kind of stuff. He’s a few years older than me so he was able to update the house for us when he was still living here. That’s his whole thing,” Soobin wiggled his fingers in the air, “interior design. Consulted at the shop a few towns over and everything.”

“I heard that he moved, why?” The back of your neck grew hot when you realized how insensitive that question really sounded once it was said out loud. “You don’t have to answer me, by the way,” you hoped that the attempt to backtrack would be enough to curb potential awkwardness. God knows the two of you couldn’t afford any more of that.

“He met a girl online who lives a few states away and fell in love with her. He was wasting all of his money traveling back and forth to see her, so he finally decided to just move. The only things keeping him here were me and taking care of the house. I miss him sometimes, but I can’t blame him. He was starting to grow flowers for her, and she made it very clear that unless he could move to live with her, he would have to get the surgery.” Soobin’s voice had taken on a very odd tone that felt too complicated to unpack at the moment. Besides, your own chest began to burn at the mention of growing flowers.

The boy must have noticed the way you gently grasped the soft fabric of your t-shirt between your fingers as his eyes widened like a deer in headlights. He made a miniscule scooch over the leather cushions to get a bit closer to you and place a hesitant hand on your shoulder. His voice was extremely soft and quiet even for as close as he was to you.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I didn’t know that you…” he licked his plump lips as he hesitated, “Did you have surgery? You don’t have to answer me either, by the way.” Of course you had seen the question coming, but hearing it in the softest tone of voice you had ever heard from a human being struck a different chord in your heart. You couldn’t find it in yourself to confess your woes to his face, so you turned to your left to admire the garden from the window view. Earlier, he had happily told you the names of some of them and their meanings. Buttercups signifying innocence, Forget-me-nots representing true love, Marigolds standing for bliss. Flowers; dictating so much of your life.

“Yeah, I had surgery.” You cursed the shaky edge in your voice. “I was in love with my best friend from college, we were roommates and he was everything I ever wanted from a boyfriend. And I thought he liked me back so,” you swallowed thickly and finally turned your head to see a confused furrow in Soobin’s brow. You knew why he looked so confused, but he would understand your emotions soon enough. “So I thought I had just caught some kind of bug when I started to grow flowers, and he was taking care of me. One day I went to the bathroom to puke and out came little purple petals. It was so confusing. He thought they were for someone else, so he comforted me and I didn’t understand why that only made me cough up more.” A hot tear escaped down your cheek and you cursed at it. Soobin’s whole body was rigid, as if your story was enough to stop all of his bodily functions in their tracks. You supposed your societally unusual show of emotions for a past love would be more than enough to elicit that response.

“Obviously, I found out that he didn’t love me back so I went for surgery. They deemed it successful and I moved back in with him so we could just live as best friends. No flowers, no icky feelings, right?” The question was obviously rhetorical yet Soobin nodded as if cheering you on. “And everything was great, for close to a year. Until one night I woke up in a coughing fit when he wasn’t home and ended up with another god damn purple petal in my hand.” Your fist clenched at the memory of the disgustingly wet petal that had landed in your palm just to mock you. “So I went back to the hospital and they did all their tests. There’s nothing left for them to remove. No new growths, just. There’s something wrong with me. The doctor said he had read about it before, people who can’t fully move on even after removal. That was just two weeks ago. I couldn’t stay there and pretend the first surgery actually ended my feelings for him. That’s how I ended up here, with you.”

Soobin’s face was unreadable. A horribly timed laugh track blasted from the tv speakers and made you cringe. How awkward could this first day as an employee and roommate be? He had nearly seen you naked and now he knows all about your past heartbreak and medical anomaly. You inhaled a shuddering breath through your nose and busied yourself with watching the sun slowly disappear behind the trees of the property.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say. I can’t even relate with,” he gestured awkwardly toward his own chest, “growing flowers. I never have. That’s why I grow so many in the garden. Well, that and the family traditions. But mostly because I have always wondered what I would grow if I were in your position. And I memorize what they mean because one time I read a story that said your flowers can signify the kind of relationship you have with that person; especially since they change with every relationship. But I guess it’s kind of a blessing I’ve never loved anyone yet, huh?” You scoffed at his confession.

“You have no idea, Soobin. I’d give everything to fall in love with someone who loves me back and push those stupid purple petals out of my system. Or to just have normal anatomy. But we live in a cruel world sometimes.” The atmosphere of the living room existed in direct opposition to your statement, as warm hues of sunset casted over every surface in a blissful haze.You could see particles of dust falling through the air as if in slow motion. Soobin hummed thoughtfully and got up to stand in front of a window. The light framed the outline of his body like a halo.

“Lets hope,” his voice sounded just as light and airy as the room looked, “that the only flowers you encounter from now on are just the ones from the garden. No pain included.” You weren’t sure how much stock you should take in his insinuation that being here, with him, wouldn’t end in you growing flowers again. Was that an underhanded confession of attraction? You certainly didn’t have the guts to ask, but the idea made you feel weightless.

“That would be very nice, Soobin. No pain included at all.”

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

Text

Past Times

John ponders on the loss of his first wife. Elizabeth spends some time with her prospective mother in law, and all await the arrival of more guests.

Word Count 3417

A/N Just a short word on breakfast and the Scottish setting. I was expecting that something like a very meaty ‘Full Scottish’ would be on the menu in such a refined household, but in Regency times bread and cakes were served, along with tea and drinking chocolate. I took the liberty of adding oat cakes as a reference to the Scottish setting. I haven’t made any attempt on the Scots dialect or accent, feeling that the upper echelons of society would have very refined accents, as Edinburgh people do to this day.

10 Settling in

John watched as Lizzy left the drawing room with her chaperone. Once he was alone, he found himself conflicted. He was captivated by his fiancée, but talking of his dear departed wife stirred up old memories and feelings he thought he had put aside. The day had been long and full of joy, but he knew he would not sleep as deeply as he might otherwise. He called Scott to fetch him the brandy bottle, and poured himself a measure, dismissing him for the night after praising his work and asking him to pass that praise on to the rest of the staff.

Outside the sun was setting on the long summer day, and he thought better of taking a stroll. Instead he took his glass to the library and stood at the window as the light faded. It looked out in the same direction as his fiancée’s, and he wondered if she too looked out over the garden, or whether she had laid her head on the snowy pillow of her lonely bed, as he would soon. Had he tried to move on from grieving for Georgiana too soon? Had he laid her ghost to rest or would she forever haunt him? He shook his head pensively, gazing down at his glass to find it empty. He decided that more alcohol was not the answer, and he should attempt to sleep. On the morrow his good friend Tom and his wife would arrive, and introductions would be made, and all would acquaint themselves and hopefully settle into a lively but harmonious party. After that there would be various dinners and balls and other amusements – some held at Laxton, and others at neighbouring estates.

Leaving his glass on the desk, he left the room and ascended the great staircase, turning right to his chambers where Lizzy would have turned left. He paused for a moment before continuing, and once in his room, disrobed and slipped between the bedsheets. He lay on his back staring at the canopy of the hangings, expecting to be awake for some time, but sleep came swiftly.

He dreamed of Georgie, barefoot and running over the sands of Portobello, wind in her hair and a soft smile on her face. He walked along the margin of the sea, the waves trickling cold water over his bare toes. She came to him, and caught at his arm, walking beside him. He did not break his stride, for her hand had little weight and no warmth.

‘You are sad, beloved’ she said quietly.

‘I thought we had a lifetime together, my darling Georgie’ he replied ‘but you are gone, and just a dream’

‘My memory will always be with you’ she replied ‘but you are free to love another. I am just a shadow, a thought. Your new love is warm and real’ The featherlight weight of her arm fell away from his, and he stopped walking to look at her. She was carrying a sleeping infant in her arms. ‘I have our sweet babe with me. I am so sorry you never met him’ she said sorrowfully ‘But you have a chance to have another – and more’

‘I have your blessing?’ he asked

‘Of course, pining for me will only make you unhappy. Let go, and think of me tending our child, You are free to love your new sweetheart.’

‘I will remember you – on the day of your death each year’

‘If you wish. I would prefer it be the day of my birth, but it is your decision’ He smiled sadly

‘I can remember you both on the day of your passing’ he replied

‘Then let it be so. Farewell John, do not weep. Take comfort in your new love, for I am sure she will understand’

John sat upright in bed, the echo of Georgie’s word in his ears. He longed to go to Elizabeth and tell her how much he loved her, but propriety dictated when and where they might meet. On the morrow he thought he would have little chance to be alone with her, so he lay back and thought of ways to tell her of his feelings.

-------

Elizabeth woke to an odd noise. She was sure she could hear someone outside her door – a soft scuffle as if of stockinged feet was followed by a quiet rustling sound, and she opened her eyes sleepily to see a piece of paper had been pushed under her door. Looking at the light starting to creep around the margin of the heavy curtains, she surmised that her maid, Jane, would be there soon and would discover the note.

She felt a thrill of excitement, sure that it was a love token from her beloved. She got up, wrapping her dressing gown around her shoulders to retrieve the note and took it back to bed with her.

My dearest Elizabeth

In case you were in any doubt, please be assured that you have made me a very happy man. My love for you is genuine and enduring, and I cannot wait to make you my wife. The days to come will be busy and challenging and we may not get a lot of time to ourselves, but I am certain that all who meet you will see what a wonderful and accomplished young woman you are. I feel myself privileged to know your true nature, and hope that I can prove myself worthy of your esteem. I shall leave a token of my love where you may find it every day of our engagement – look tonight in your bedchamber and know that you will be in my thoughts as I lay my head on my pillow and close my eyes, hoping to dream of you.

Your truest love

John

She sighed with happiness, holding the letter to her bosom, and fancied she heard more footsteps in the corridor. Swiftly she lay down and pulled the covers over her, hiding the letter under her nightgown as a soft knock announced Jane’s arrival with warm water and towel for her to wash herself with. Entering, the maid moved swiftly to the nightstand, placing the jug safely there before opening the curtains with a cheery greeting.

‘Good morning Miss Elizabeth, the weather is fine. Master John’s housekeeper bids me ask if you slept well and if there is anything she may do to make you more comfortable’ Elizabeth sat up, stretching and blinking in the light that flooded the room.

‘I slept very well, and I can think of nothing I need’ she replied ‘The room is most agreeable.’ Jane’s eyes widened

‘Why Miss – you still wear your wrap – were you cold? I will ask for more blankets’ She blushed and thought quickly.

‘I rose in the night to answer a call of nature – I must have forgotten to remove it. Please do not trouble the housekeeper, the night was warm enough’ she replied, hating to tell a falsehood, but wanting to conceal her letter. She had indeed risen to pass water in the night and return the chamber pot to its place of concealment.

‘Let me see to that right away, Miss’ Jane replied, and went to reach under the bed. ‘If you have no pressing need for it’ she added hastily.

‘Not at the moment, Jane’ she replied, and took the maid’s absence as an opportunity to hide her letter away in her trunk, concealing it in a box of letters that she took with her everywhere. She poured the warm water into the basin on the nightstand and washed herself, and when Jane returned, Elizabeth told her what outfit her mother had thought suitable for the day. She laid it out, and went to fetch Amelia so the sisters could dress together.

Some little time later, the two of them descended to the dining room for breakfast, to find John already there, and Morag sitting eating at the table. He bowed to them both, then went swiftly to Elizabeth’s side to kiss her cheek.

‘Good morning Amelia – my dear Lizzie.’ He took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Mother is taking breakfast in her room this morning, and asks that you attend her when convenient.’

‘Oh!’ Elizabeth said in surprise ‘It would be my pleasure. As soon as I have eaten, I will do so. Where does she wish to see me?’

‘I suggest you take a short turn around the garden with me to settle your digestion before you go to her’ John replied ‘We can send a servant to discover the place you are to go to, for I know not what her wishes are’ At this moment, Sir James and his wife entered the room. Amelia was already helping herself to oat cakes, butter and preserves, and stopped to greet them before taking her plate to sit at the table next to Morag.

‘Sir James, Lady Charlotte’ John said ‘I hope you found your room comfortable’

‘We did, thankyou’ her mother replied ‘Though I had almost forgotten how quiet it is in the country. We have been in the town for quite some time, and there is always noise from carriages and tradespeople’

‘I know just what you mean – excepting the Cockerel’s call in the morning’ John smiled ‘You should be grateful that father could never abide peacocks, for they make the most unearthly sounds you could imagine’

‘Oh, the Beaumonts have those’ Amelia interjected ‘You would think someone was being murdered. The first time I heard one my blood ran cold, even though I was warned’ Lady Margaret shivered

‘Indeed, it is fortunate’ she replied

‘Please help yourself to food’ John said ‘If there is anything else you wish for, please ask and I’ll send word to the kitchen’

The sideboard was laden with various cakes and breads, and a servant entered the room with fresh toast, having been told that all had assembled to eat. There was yellow butter from the farm and a selection of preserves. To drink there was not only tea, but chocolate, and the family set to doing it justice. Before long Elizabeth had finished, and turned to her mother.

‘Mother, Lady Margaret wishes me to attend her this morning, but I shall take a turn around the garden first’

‘I have proposed a walk for the digestion’ John said ‘Remember, my friend Tom and his wife shall arrive today, but I think they will not arrive before luncheon. You are free to accompany us, or visit any part of the estate that you wish.’

‘Tell my John, is there a newspaper to be had?’ Sir John asked ‘If there is, I shall take it to the study, or select a book to read from the library’

‘May I take a look at the library too?’ Amelia asked

‘The paper should have been delivered already’ John replied, and summoned Scott to check ‘And of course you may take a book, Miss Amelia. You must, as I said before, treat this place as your home.’ Lady Charlotte said that she and Morag would go and look in the greenhouses and the flower garden, leaving the lovers some little time alone before Elizabeth attended John’s mother, and she sent Jane to fetch a shawl against the cool of the morning air.

The betrothed couple strolled amongst the flower beds close to the house. Elizabeth took John’s arm.

‘What might your mother want with me?’ she asked ‘Do you think I am properly dressed?’

‘I am sure she just wants to get to know you’ John smiled ‘Do not be afraid, I believe she already likes you – who could not? As to your dress, as a man I only understand that you look beautiful. The niceties and details of dress do not make a lot of sense to me’

‘Can we be observed from the house?’ she asked in a low tone as they carried on along the gravel path. John smiled.

‘If you wish for a private spot, there is an arbour but a few steps away where prying eyes will not see’ he replied ‘Though we should not linger too long.’

‘Will it afford us time for a kiss?’ she asked ‘I am hungry for your lips’ John chuckled

‘What have I awoken in you, Lizzy? I suggested this walk to calm you before you went to see Mother’

‘I will be calm afterwards, I promise. I declare that otherwise I will only be counting the moments until our lips meet again, and will be distracted’

‘Very well Lizzy, you have convinced me that it is necessary’

‘Necessary?’ she asked ‘Do you not feel the same need? It is not necessary, but essential’

‘I crave to be alone with you constantly, my dear’ he affirmed ‘But I must needs be cautious that we are not imprudent. One of us must be on their guard’ By this time they had come to a niche in the yew hedge, where the foliage had been trained to form a shelter for two persons. They stepped inside out of view of the house and he drew her to him. No sooner had he done so than she had eagerly lifted her face to his, and their lips met in a sweet lingering kiss. Reluctantly he drew away after a few moments.

I fear that is enough for now, Lizzy’ he said ‘Let us walk for a little longer, then I will send someone to tell mother you are ready’ Elizabeth sighed

‘Very well. I shall do my best to please her’

‘I do not think you will have to try hard’ John kissed her hand, and they started out along the path again.

------

It so occurred that Lady Margaret had not yet dressed for the day, and asked Elizabeth to go to her bedchamber. John took her to the threshold, where she knocked and waited to be admitted. Lady Margaret’s maid opened the door, and John blew her a silent kiss before she entered. The Duchess was sitting in bed, still attired in a nightgown and mob cap.

‘Miss Elizabeth, thankyou for indulging me’ she said. Her face was pale and she looked weary. ‘I fear I may not join your family before dinner time. I am fatigued, and company is wearisome.’

‘I’m so sorry to hear that, your grace’ Elizabeth replied ‘Would your doctor not give you a tonic? Mother sometimes takes one when she is indisposed’

‘I fear my affliction is of the nerves, not of the body, my dear girl. However, I wanted to get to know the girl who has brought the spark back into John’s eye’ She beckoned ‘Come, sit and talk to me’ Elizabeth drew near, and perched at the foot of the bed. There was a silence, and she wondered what they might talk of.

‘It is a pity you are unwell. The morning is fine and clear. John took me for a walk in the garden. I like the grounds of the house very much’ Lady Margaret smiled wanly.

‘It is a lot to manage, but the secret is to have good staff, and to treat them well. John’s father and I made sure that we knew every one of the servants and their family circumstances. I hope you will follow that example, and take an interest in their wellbeing. It will serve you well’ She smiled ‘There, I have told you the secret of our success already, and you have been here but a few minutes.’

‘I will be sure to follow your advice, Lady Margaret. You are too generous’

‘I hear that you were engaged to be married before you met John’ the duchess went on. Elizabeth fought to keep her composure, but the other woman laughed softly ‘The path to true love is not an easy one. As you know, John is a widower. His wife was a sweet girl, not well born, but he was determined to take her to him. We indulged him, and sometimes I wish I had not, to save him the sorrow he has borne’

‘I do wonder what she was like, and whether I can serve in her stead’ Elizabeth confessed.

‘My son does not give his heart easily, so I think you need not fear, my dear. I am pleased he has chosen someone so refined and well bred’ She coughed weakly and waved her hand to the dresser beside the bed. ‘My throat is dry - would you pass me a glass of water, my dear? If you wish for any refreshments I can send Betsy to the kitchen’

‘Thankyou Lady Margaret, I am not hungry, but I will take some water.’ She moved to pour two glasses and handed one to her. She sat forward to drink

‘If you could rearrange my pillows – and bring over the shawl you see on the back of the screens’ she asked, and Elizabeth did so, shaking the pillows out and placing them back behind the older woman. She took the shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders and sat back with a sigh ‘Thankyou, that is much more comfortable.’

‘Are you often indisposed?’ Elizabeth asked with concern ‘I hope you have a doctor with a good reputation’

‘Doctor Foster is a dear friend as well as an excellent physician. He covers the whole of the estate, and I have great faith in his skills.’ She settled further into the pillows ‘The death of my husband has affected me much’ She fixed Elizabeth with her gaze. ‘Such is the price of finding your soulmate’ she cautioned her ‘Sometimes I wish I were with my dear Walter’

‘Please Lady Margaret, do not say such things’ Elizabeth pleaded ‘You have much still to live for. Why, I would be devastated if you were not there when John and I are joined as man and wife’ She moved closer, and took her hand ‘You have much still to teach me, and I am sure you have many stories to share of family life’ The older woman smiled.

‘Thankyou my dear. Of course you will in time have children to carry on the family name, and I wish very much to be here to see that. If you are lucky, there is much joy to be had in married life, and I hope I have brought John up to be kind and considerate at the very least’

‘Indeed, he makes me feel very special. I rejected the suit of another when I learned that he had little respect for my sex, and less regard for intelligence.’

‘So that is the reason you broke off your engagement? I was told that the young man in question gambled heavily’ Elizabeth blushed, realising she had perhaps revealed too much to her prospective mother in law.

‘My father discovered that after I had raised my objections. I think I had a lucky escape’

‘You may be sure that John has no love of gambling or drinking heavily. His father often pointed out the dangers of such vices’ She sighed ‘I have kept you away from John, and soon you will have the responsibility of greeting visitors. You may go, my dear’

‘That is very generous of you’ Elizabeth paused at a thought that came to her ‘Lady Margaret, do you read much?’ she asked

‘I do, it is one of my pleasures’

‘Would you permit me to read to you? It might lift your spirits. Perhaps sitting outside in the fresh air would also improve your health.’

‘Bless you my dear, you will soon be too busy to indulge me, but perhaps Miss Amelia might be prevailed upon to read to me?’

‘I am sure she would be happy to do so. I will ask her straight away’

‘She need not come until after lunch, but only if she can be spared. I will take a nap now, for I slept little, and your visit has been most refreshing.’

‘I will be sure to ask one of the servants to check on you after we have eaten. I hope soon that you will feel well enough to socialise with your new guests’ Lady Margaret reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand with both of hers.

‘Thankyou so much for indulging me, Elizabeth. You will make a good Mistress for Laxton estate, I am sure of that now’ Elizabeth dropped a curtsey and left the room to go and find Amelia and tell her of her plans for her sister.

@sirbeepsalot @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @dcbbw @rainbowsinthestorm @katedrakeohd @trappedinfandoms @kingliam2019 @nomadics-stuff @texaskitten30 @princess-geek @fluffyfirewhiskey @kimmiedoo5

#Past times #Elizabeth and John #Elizabeth Dalgeish #Captain Lykel #Captain John Lykel #regency drama #regency scotland

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stlgeekgirl · 4 years

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Personal Rant

I was going to let it lie but then...no, I’m still a bit furious. I’m about to get personal and political so all of this is going under the cut. Also, I’ll tag so anyone can keep this off their feed if it’s not your bag.

I’m an older fan. I watched Classic Who on our local PBS station, I saw the original Ghostbusters. I remember when cable, microwaves and VCR first came out on the market. I am a fandom grandma. I’ve been in fandom since the age of nine, before I even knew what fandom was.

Also, I did most of my formative years of schooling in a Catholic School, I remember my school telling the kids that we needed to tell our parents not to vote for Mondale/ Ferraro in 1984 because they supported killing babies. I was raised in a Republican/ racist/homophobic family. And while my beliefs have always been at odds with my family (BLM, LGBTQA+, ERA), politics never held an interest to me. I didn’t know what Reagan did, all I knew was my parents liked him so he much be okay. I never paid much attention to Bush 1 because he must be good if he was voted in after Reagan. I was against Clinton in his first term because I didn’t know better and my ex was a Republican. while I wouldn’t call myself a Democrat or a Liberal, I very much lean that way. This is from decades of reading and listening and finding beliefs that align with what I believe in.

Then I read and I learned and I started thinking for myself and stopped listening to my family, my ex. friends. I have not stopped reading and learning because I am a salty bitch and anything if you tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m gonna do my damnedest to prove you wrong.

It took some time but I learned about LGBTQA+ and realized I was an ally, tried to be a better ally, Finally realized I was part of the community. I learned about BLM and realized that just because I don’t use derogatory terms for people doesn’t mean I’m not racist so I’m trying to be a better ally for POC and BIPOC,

I fight for safe spaces in fandom because I believe everyone should be able to feel comfortable in fandom, no matter age, gender, orientation, race. I fight for SWYL because heterosexual people should be able to enjoy queer fics and queer people should be able to enjoy het fics without worrying that someone will think them less than.

My page is a plethora of fandom, pretty things, politics, and other random shit I like. It’s my page. At times I’ll come across blogs I don’t like or posts on people I follow blogs. And I scroll past. Because it’s their blog and it’s not my business to dictate what they put on their blog.

With all the shit that happened with the Qanon/Alt Right/ Nazi/WTF you want to call it terrorist acts that happened this week, my tolerance level is at an all time low. So it is not a good time to reblog something I post with laughing emojies and telling me that you hope I educate myself. Because 1) I’m twice as old as you are 2) while your comment might have seemed tame to some people who are going to see it, I remember seeing the Pro Trump manifesto posted on another SM site that was justified because of four letters from the MBTI. I made a mistake of scrolling past then but not here, not on my Tumblr. If after last weeks Terrorist attack on our Nations Capital, you wanna reblog my post and add some condescending BS comment, you’re blocked. I have zero time for Nazis on my page. I’m not going to name and shame because this person is young and I truly hope they realize the hurt they’re bringing on people. Originally I was also going to tag ships but it’s not fair to those people to have this rant in their ship tags. . But what really pisses me off (and brings me back to fandom) is this person is in a ship I love. A het ship that is enjoyed by a lot of het and queer women. We’re already demonized for liking a het ship but this person is the poster child for what people think our ship is made up of. They’re trying to “climb the ranks” so to speak, they’re trying to take money from fans, queer fans, POC fans, fans they are politically against. And I hate it.

I have grown up over the years; in my fandom view, in my political views, in my views about basic human decency. I stopped listening to what was told to me and starting educating myself. I have fought with my family about my views, I have blocked family members on social media, what makes you think that someone I don’t know isn’t going to get the same treatment. So, please, sit down, turn off Fox News and actually educate yourself.

#political wank #personal #rant #seriously #you're gonna make be write this on a Friday night #I could be watching something nerdy #or writing fanfic

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lonelyghosts-stuff · 3 years

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Avengers Infinity War-First Time Watching Reaction Play-by-Play (Pt. 2)

Part 1

I wonder how many people Gamora has killed? What made her finally snap to not serve Thanos anymore?

How DID Gamora find it? Like, who told her?

How did Thanos capture nebula?

Poor nebula. She’s literally been through hell and back.

Ohhhh she snuck on board...

Thanos you suck so much. You favor one daughter over another.

Oh. Where was said map to the soul stone?

Gosh I feel so damn bad for nebula. She was raised as his daughter too but he tortured her and tore her apart. Nebula never had the chance to be her equal. She deserves so much.

Taught groot as an elective? What about all speak?

Buckle up rocket. It’s gonna get emotional.

Thor is literally all alone. He needs a time to sit alone and cry and break a whole building.

Rocket and Thor friends? Please

1500 years old? Jane, honey, you escaped.

Gotta give it up to Hemsworth’s acting chops here. Especially talking to nobody in reality. Just a bunch of cgi

Ew ew ew eye socket

Should have washed that yikes

Snuck it out by hiding it up your? Huh? You watch too many movies rocket.

Huge title card. Thank you. I wouldn’t have known where we were despite them saying their location many times.

How is that video game battery not dead?

Perceptive rabbit

I LOVE that they used a dwarf to play a giant character!!! This is brilliant! (And that dwarves are giant for some reason lol.)

Soooo again Thanos killed everyone EXCEPT Eitri despite his “morality” supposedly being balance

Poor hands

Poor nebula

Smart nebula

Maybe should have waited to be fixed fully first

Ah crap. SOMEONE PICK UP THE SPACE PHONE

MANTIS

Love how Stark asks for peters help in steering and not Stephen lmao

Nice parking job

Peter, stop popping pop culture refs

Lmao ITS ABOUT TO BE THE ICONIC SCENE

YES PLEASE

Blanket of Death. Capey has a new nickname.

Where’s Gamora

Who’s Gamora

Why is Gamora

What master do you serve?

Jesus?

I mean, yea I do. So does Pratt lmaoo.

LMAO PARKER’S FACE WHEN QUILL SAID THOR WASNT HANDSOME

Storm breaker time baby

“In theory it could summon the bifrost” who theorized this? How do you only theorize and not know?

Oh my gosh mantis is just bouncing around

Mr. Clean lmao

Kick names, take ass

Hey now, these guys saved the galaxy and universe from Ego so lmao

Oh no I know the scene coming up

Poor quill lmao

“I’m half human. So the 50% of me that’s stupid, that’s 100% of you.” “Your math is, blowing my mind.” What’s funny is that Quill’s math was actually completely accurate lol

Stephen having a stroke or a seizure? You good homie?

Soooo if Strange looked to the future and so possible outcomes, what does that mean for the TVA? According to them, there’s ONE sacred timeline, so all other branches are erased (which again messes up what smart hulk eventually says in end game. See kids, this is why you don’t mess with time travel in stories. There’s no way to go back in time without creating a time loop). Ehhhhh I’ll let it slide. Just ignore it... sigh... I can’t help it if I’ve studied paradoxes

Hmmmm not good odds I’ve gotta say...

Watch like, outside of the millions of realities that strange saw, there were like a million or billion more he missed where they won with no casualties lol

Hey Red Skull. Long time no see. How did he get here anyways and why?

Yea you’re prepared all right...

Gotta say, Lord Elrond has seen better days

I’m not ready to say good bye to this Gamora. Gamora and Loki and Nat go down as my favorite characters, gotta say. I know that Tony does and it’s sad, but his feels more satisfying because his sacrifice directly results in them winning. Loki is murdered. Gamora is murdered. Nat died just for a stepping stone for the avengers. She has no idea whether or not they will actually win in the end.

I’m hopeful they may bring Nat back like in the comics, red room clone style.

We got back vision, Loki (kinda), variant Gamora, a new captain America, why not Nat? Yea we have a prequel, but gosh I love her so much.

“You must lose that which you love.” Couldn’t that apply to like an object or something? Could I not throw my Nintendo switch over the cliff? Or my dog? (I would hate that just as much as a person, don’t get me wrong, I’m just curious about the rules)

Yea boohoo sad for Thanos... loses his favorite daughter. I don’t care about him. He deserves suffering.

Poor Gamora doesn’t think he’s willing to do it.. GIRL RUN!!!

Thanos deserves all the suffering.

He does love you Gamora... but that love... it’s selfish. It’s blind... Thanos seems to be a chaotic vigilante who is narrowminded, tunnel vision on his goal with no regards of the cost. But he is evil. If there is ever an alternate route to an end that doesn’t result in the loss of innocent lives, and you know that but you willingly choose the once that costs innocent lives, that is an evil decision. Maybe Thanos isn’t evil, but he’s not good. Far from it. He’s obsessed with this idyllic Utopia but he rushes to one method of getting there. Yes, people suffer. It sucks... it’s unfair... it’s horrible. But it is never the right of someone else to dictate whether or not said person would be better off dead. Who lives, who dies. If Thanos truly was neutral and not selfish, he would have thrown his own life into the mix of the potential 50/50 snap. Thanos is not good. He’s not misunderstood. He’s a murderer. A genocidal cult leader. I have no tears for him. Only for those who suffered more at his hands.

Rant over, time to try not to cry about Gamora...

Her face of realization

Gamora run please

Thanos, I hate you. (Great character her, but not a good person)

Poor Gamora

Oh my gosh the emotion here is great but I’ve heard this sound used as a meme on TikTok too many times aghhhh

Gamora!

What a way to die

I’m crying again. I miss her already...

Who the hell designed this place and put the stone here???? Who did this?

Cry Thanos. Suffer. My only comfort here is that you are sad. You deserve suffering. You really do...

The TVA is laughing here and I’m not okay..

Poor Peter Quill... he’s also lost a lot like Thor, but has had the “luck” of not knowing his family too close.

Wakanda babyyyy

No, you don’t want Starbucks, you want Dutch bros

Lmao I love rhodey. Poor Bruce.

BUCKY BUCKY BUCKY

HUG

NO CMON HAVE A LONG HUG

MALE FRIENDSHIPS ARE SO IMPORTANT.

Yea Shuri show em up.

Okay quick pause, I love love LOVE how Shuri is smarter. It’s a powerful moment for females BUT it’s not done in a way that’s condescending to males! It’s not saying women power because men bad, she’s just good! (And she has had access to technology they never could have but I digress). More of this please Hollywood. Don’t let being a female be the power. I don’t want strong female characters, I want strong characters who happen to be female. Ones who hold their own, have faults like anyone else, struggle, have weaknesses and strengths, but are strong without putting down others. Just a comment, just because a woman character may not be as strong as a man character, that is not saying she’s weak. If you’re the second strongest human in the world, you are NOT weak. You’re just not as strong as the strongest human ever, but that’s nothing against you. LET WOMEN STAND ON THEIR OWN MERITS WITHOUT SEX AFFECTING THEM!

Anyways

I love Shuri

I wish they had more time. She definitely could have done it. But stupid Thanos

Ughhhghhg

I know what many scenes are upcoming... with quill and peter and vision and everyone else

Let👏🏻Bucky👏🏻Have👏🏻Peace👏🏻

Thank you Nat!!! I love that Nat is so protective and selfless.

GET THIS MAN A SHIELD

Bucky needs love please. He’s my stand in, manipulated, greasy, long haired, dark and mysterious, stabby boy. (Also I need Bucky and Loki to meet. But let Loki finish his show (and come out of it alive because if he doesn’t I will sue) and be the antihero hero we need. Please. If he doesn’t get reintroduced into the mcu as a hero I will sue.

Thor, sweetie, are you a masochist?

Back to wakanda

Oh no, bad CGI, floating head Bruce banner. I’ll let it slide... sigh....

Can’t like, you just rain bombs on them forever?

JIBARI TRIBE YEA BOYYYYY

Sorry Proxima Midnight, you look like a frog and your name sounds like a middle schooler’s OC.

How nice. Diplomatic meeting.

“Thanos will have nothing but dust and blood.” Reeeeeeally wish you didn’t say that, T’Challa...

Yay big CGI battle commence! It’s like a really expensive animated cartoon at this point

WAKANDA FOREVER!

Poor Bucky. Forgot this dude doesn’t know much about the modern world.

Ahhhh Kamikazi aliens

I just wanna say that I love that Wakanda still has the artistic culture in their clothing and tradition all the while having badass, super advanced technology.

Why can’t they just rain bombs down the whole fight lol. Rhodey has those super nice bombs, like, do that they he whole time? Please? Why do you not have a barrier around the entire king.

No M’Baku, it’s not the end of wakanda. But half of all life, yea

WAKANDA FOREVER YEAAAAAAA

They should honesty all have nano tech suits like black panther lol. Or iron man suits. Fine maybe the most powerful one with the best quality material for the king, but besides that, yknow.

Wow Steve is hot with a beard.

So much happening at once. Thor, Wakanda, Vormir, Knowhere, am I missing anything?

Okay, but what IS the full force of a star? Like in Newton’s or something? Juls? Is it heat?

What’s this metal? How does it fare with vibranium?

Get off your wooden butt, groot.

“He needs the axe” are you Thor, the god of axes?

Soooo, I thought Thor didn’t NEED the hammer, it just helped him concentrate his powers or act as a conduit. Is that retconned already?

Cmon groot, put down your game. Soooo, is Groot worthy? He technically lifted it. Or is it a technicality because it wasn’t fully finished yet?

Cmon bucky, use that fancy arm of yours.

Wow they’re getting destroyed.

They need wanda to help.

BADASS ENTRANCE BABYYYY

How did Thor know to come to wakanda?

Floaty head Bruce

“BRING ME THANOS!”

Ahhhhhahahaha yeaaaaaa

Cry Thanos. Do it. I hate you.

Much more of a purple grape nutsack.

Oh gosh... I know what Peter Quill is going to do. I still don’t hate him.

“With all six stone I would simply snap my fingers. They would all cease to exist.” Orrrr, now hear me out, I know I sound like a broken record now but... MAYBE DOUBLE THE RESOURCES INSTEAD?? That’s not mercy. That’s not up to you to decide whether or not someone’s better off dead.

Smoosh

Yea quill has experience with the power stone

AIM FOR THE HEAD

Cmon it’s basic zombie tactics

I love peter quill lmao

Go capey!!!

Magic with a kick!

Poor Peter

CAPEY NOOOOOO

Wow he’s OP

Ouch quill just got majorly clotheslined

NEBULA

“Where’s Gamora?” 😭😭😭 SHE CARES AGHHHH

Restrain him! Work it mantis!!!

Why even remove the gauntlet, just slit his throat... kill him....

Quill no... stop being cocky...

Oh no

Quill please don’t

JUST SLIT THANOS’ THROAT

Quill please....

Poor quill. Just lost the person who really really loved him

Okay, I still love star lord. Idc what others think. He reacted realistically. If you hate peter quill for how he reacted, you better also hate Tony Stark for how he reacted to bucky when he learned bucky killed his parents despite knowing for a fact that bucky was brainwashed. Yes it was annoying... yes they were so close, but quill is so human here. I don’t hate him. He gets too much hate for acting like any normal person would have. Distraught, grief filled, he lost his love. Someone who helped him open up and finally move on from his mother’s death and fathers villainy.

Spider man saving mantis gives me life

How did that power stone blast not kill them?

Clearly Thanos has played Majora’s Mask. At least he has good taste.

So close vision.... but I know... I know what happens.

YES BUCKY AND ROCKET GUN CIRCLE.

Lmao give rocket Bucky’s old arm.

“I am Groot.” “I am Steve Rogers.” Comedy gold

Cmon Thor, go after the big one first.

Cmon wanda, save them. We need some scarlet witch magic up here to stop these

Okay that was so cool. AND THEN SHE USED THE BLADES

Oh no but now Shuri is alone

So close yet so far.... Dangit... vision was almost good

Ouch. Bonk to the head

YEA BLACK WIDOW

BADASS TIME

AND OKOYE!!

LETS GOOOOOOO

BADASS WOMEN

Ouch poor vision

Cmon Thor back up vision

Please

Hulk is in his feels

Cmon hulk grow up

Ooooh smart move banner

Aaaaand he’s gone

Giant blade look oit

Corvus, screw off.

YEA STEVE

WHERE IS THOR WHEN YOU NEED HIM

CMON NAT

Oh dang. Nice one wanda. But also, sheesh. Helluva way to go. But no big.

Yea vision. Stabby time.

Now vision and Steve, kiss.

Spider man saving everyone’s lives.

YEA STRANGE

Where was this in New York???

MULTIPLYING

WHY DIDNT YOU DO THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE????

Oh no

Well then... ouch. Soooo where’s the real stone???

Hey look Tony, you have a fan.

Okay I’m just pissed odd they didn’t just kill Thanos when they had him subdued. Like, worry about the glove AFTER he’s not longer a threat

Oof

Tony is taking a beating

HE WAS STABBED

WHAT

I don’t want your respect Thanos. That’s an insult.

They will remember him. They will remember him Thanos. When he kills you.

DOCTOR STRANGE WHAT?

You really doing this??? I guess he knows what needs to unfold for them to win... dang. I wouldn’t trust him tho.

Peter Quill in berserker mode

Where’d he go?

Name dropping the second movie

Strange knows everything about to go down. Who dies, who lives, what Thanos is about to do... he’s accepting his soon dusted demise because Stark needs to live...

AIM FOR THE HEAD UGHHHHH

Stop teleporting. That’s Loki’s gimmick.

KILL THIS RAISIN LOOKING NUTSACK UGH

Homie way too OP

Poor wanda and Vis...

HER LIP TREMBLE

PHENOMENAL ACTING

SAY I LOVE YOU

I JUST FEEL YOU

AGGHHHH IM CRYING AGAIN

Poor wanda. To have to kill her love... this.. this is a sacrifice Thanos... not your murder....

Wow Steve is holding back Thanos with pure brute

WANDA IS SO STRONG

HOLDING BACK THANOS WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY BREAKING THE MIND STONE

I LOVE YOU

AGHHHHHHHHH

And I know what happens next...

Poor wanda

Piss off thanos you understand nothing

You lost more than she could know? Bull crap. You are causing everyone to lose...

Cruel reality. Wanda has to see him die twice. RIP Vision

RIP half of all life...

AIM FOR THE DAMN HEAD

IF THOR KILLED HIM THEY COULD HAVE USED THE GAUNTLET TO BRING EVERYONE BACK TO LIFE. USED THE TIME STONE TO REVIVE THEM ALL.

How did that not kill Thanos tho. It may not have been a head shot but still.

Lil Gamora

What is this place?

Is this the soul realm?

Thanos, I hope you suffer forever. You deserve all the pain...

Rest In Peace: Vision, Loki, Bucky, T’Challa, Groot, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Mantis, Drax, Peter Quill, Dr. Strange, Peter Parker (I don’t feel so good), and everyone else...

Thank you Nebula.

Thanos, you do NOT deserve to retire peacefully—wipe that smile off of your face

Oop, Rest In Peace Maria Hill and Nick Fury too... Motherfu— (so close Sammy boy...)

Yea Thanos you didn’t really think that through. Much more than half will died since other people rely on other peoples lives

Good thing he hit that button last minute huh? I wonder how captain marvel would fare in the TVA? are her powers considered magic? I mean, she clearly doesn’t know everything since she only just learned about Thanos (which is funny because she was supposedly traversing the universe to protect people)

Welp... onto movie two!

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an-intronerd · 4 years

Text

thoughts on jaskier (+ geraskier) post episode 6: rare species

this was honestly supposed to be a teeny little rant but like, my hands grew minds of their own.

...

ok, so like, i recently binged the witcher (and i’m one of those people who has not yet read the books and never played the games, so going in, i had no idea who these characters were or what their dynamics in the other medias were like or anything) and next thing you know, i’m drowining in the geraskier fandom.

as one does, i’ve seen a lot of geraskier content, including fics and the like, and one idea that’s always there is that jaskier is this heartbroken, sullen, pining thing after the Big Fight. like, 98% of what i’ve seen or read has sad!jaskier. and like, the general plot is always like

jaskier is sad that geralt yelled mean things at him.

jaskier sings heartbroken love songs.

jaskier runs into geralt/geralt finds jaskier/somehow these two meet again.

geralt is a dick/geralt feels bad but is emotionally constipated so he doesn’t know how to use words to apologize/geralt saves jaskier’s life.

geralt and jaskier make up because jaskier knows how to read his witcher’s emotions and forgives him. optional: they bang.

the end.

and its like, people aren’t perfect?? i think that’s a little unrealistic. and yes, fanfiction can be like that sometimes, because it’s what we want to happen. but like, imagine this:

jaskier going through the 5 stages.

jaskier goes down the mountain, leaving geralt behind. what else can he possibly do?

jaskier spends a few nights wasted and crying because hey, guess what, the love of his life for the better part of two decades is a gaint wart-covered dick. he’s sad about it, sue him.

jaskier decides fuck this, his witcher is a piece of shit and though he is by no means the best person on the planet, he is at least good enough to deserve better than what geralt gave him. or well, was incapable of giving him.

jaskier decides he will move on, and it’ll start with him getting out of this mountainside village and heading to one of the first places where he truly found himself, oxenfurt. afterall, music has been and will always be the one constant and greatest pleasure in his life.

it takes time, but jaskier perseveres. he gets over his denial pretty quickly. he will not believe geralt didn’t care for him at all. he knows that’s an insult to both of them. geralt cared in his own way. thats the truth. unfortunately, the other, much harsher truth is that it wasn’t enough. so, no geralt won’t be coming for him, and jaskier won't be waiting around.

anger is a bit harder to get over. once it truly sets in, it’s all jaskier can do not to hunt down that fucking white wolf and tear him a new one. jaskier is a person, he is a human with feelings, and that damned witcher had no right to treat him like the scum at the bottom of his shoe. if it wasn’t for jasker, geralt would still be run out of every other town he came across, stoned and bloody. he’d probably have died in a puddle of his own blood fifty times over by now, considering all the times jaskier had to patch him up. that ungrateful prick. except, once he’s exhausted three supllies of parchment and written enough songs about the bitcher, (yes not his most creative insult but he’s too petty to care!) he knows none of that is remotely true. and he wants closure.

and that’s when bargaining hits him full force. all of a sudden, he just needs to see geralt one more time. once more great adventure and a song to go with it, one more meal shared, one more conversation, to see if geralt really ever cared. he needs to ask him, and have geralt verbally confirm or deny his doubts. he needs this, just once. one more time, he needs to see his witcher, and it’ll be enough. one more time. just once. he almost fails himself, on one lonely night. he knows he can’t, he doesn’t even know where he’d start looking but he’s drunk beyond the point where common sense dictates his actions, and he’s packed half his belongings... and he’s getting ready... to track down the white... wolf... he wakes up with a bitch of a hangover the next day, but he didn’t go after geralt. he knows deep down once will never be enough.

anger was tough, but depression was worse. it came for him like a siren in all her glory, drawing him in and in and in until he’s drowing and he didn’t even realise when that happened and then it’s too much, it’s too painful... he isn’t really surprised. he thrives on emotion, the good and the bad, it’s how he writes such brilliant ballads, he admits he hadn’t really delved into his own feelings about geralt yet. he hadn’t dealt with all the heartbreak follwing the mountain, and maybe he should have done so earlier, but he doesn’t think it matters. his heart wasn’t going to hurt any less months earlier when the wounds were still fresh. and though they may have closed up over time, the phantom pain is always with him. there are days where all he can do is curl up under his blankets and sob. some days he goes without eating a single morsel, finds himself lightheaded from dehydration, not leaving his bed for anything more than to relieve himself. some days, he flips through old songbooks, filled with twenty-odd years of adventure, both the fun and the dangerous kind, and laughter and frustration, companionship and solidarity... what was it he used to say? death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. words of a lifetime past. some days, he compartmentalizes and sets all that aside in a little box in his mind and goes about his day as if he isn’t weighed down by the constant weight of his loss. it’s almost too much, but he’ll manage, he tells himself. he doesn’t let himself think of what he would do if he can’t.

it’s a cloudless day outside, and he’s in the market for new writing materials, and he’s going over next week’s lesson plan in his head, when he’s hit with the sudden realization that he hasn’t thought about geralt in a while. he’s thinking of him now, sure, but that doesn’t count because he’s thinking of how he’s not thinking of him, it’s a totally different thing, and oh- it doesn’t ache as much as it used to. he feels lighter than he has in a while, and he doesn’t know how that happened, or when, but he’s... okay.

that’s the thing about healing, it happens whether you realise it or not, you just have to give ypurself a chance. it’s pontless to hold on to the negative feelings because you’re trying to hold on to something or someone that isn’t there anymore or maybe never really was. he didn’t know when it happened, but. the bitterness that accompanied the memories of geralt’s last words is no longer there. neither is the anger. there’s a dull sadness, but mostly it’s resignation and a sort of comfortable if lonely acceptance that geralt is gone. but there’s also a bittersweet understanding that jaskier will always love him. the history they shared isn’t erased because of a few angry words. jaskier will have, if nothing else, a lifetime full of moments and memories. if he sees geralt again, it will no longer be with a vision clouded in pain or anger or sadness, but rather a deep-seated love and forgiveness. he will let geralt decide now what they will be to each other. but he will not accept anything less than what he is worth. he will not be geralt’s punching bag. if geralt wants to have a relationship with him again, it will be one of equals, the bard and the witcher. if he wants to go their seperate ways, well, jaskier will live content like that too.

he’s moved on.

sometimes, moving on doesn’t mean finding someone else. sometimes, it means mending your own heart, piece by broken piece, and then tucking it away safely inside, giving it a chance to heal. it’s about making that very difficult choice to let go of the bad that you’re holding on to, because it’s a way of holding on to the person you lost. it’s about finding yourself again, and who you were before the pain and heartbreak, and, figuring out who you want to be now. i need more of that, because that’s real. that’s how i imigine jaskier would feel. he’s not perfect, and he has his ups and downs as all of us do, and he is angry at geralt and sad and broken but also he’ll pick himself up, because he was someone before geralt, too, and he’ll still be someone after geralt, not just the witcher’s bard. he doesn’t know who that is yet, but he’ll figure it out.

and because i’m at my core a geraskier + happy endings hoe:

geralt realises an important thing on that mountaintop. he has been running from destiny and anything real all his life. he needs to get his head out of his ass, and find ciri. clearly, he was destined to lose yen, and that’s happened, no matter how hard he tried to make it different. she’s destined to be his and he accepts that now, but everything else is up to him.

he finds ciri, and then, he’s a father. he vows to be a better parent than the one he had.

he finds yen, and they learn to be enough for each other without turning it into something more than a vague frienship. somewhere between a truce and a partnership. for ciri, they agree.

he returns to kaer morhen, to his family with his daughter and his yennefer in tow.

he realises that he has everything he could ever want, and more than any witcher ever gets, but there’s still something missing.

then he realises it’s his bard, the one person who wasn’t unwillingly tied to him because of some wish or destiny, someone who chose him every single time, and who he misses with such a fierce ache.

then he remebers how badly he fucked that up, and then yen tells him he’s a wart-covered, emotionally constipated dick, and dumb too, but hey thank god you finally got your head out of your ass long enough to realise that you miss your bard and you’re sorry for what you did and you love him, and geralt just goes what? yen, love? oh- okay so that’s what the constant turning of his stomach and insomnia is.

then he sets out to find his bard, and ciri asks if she’ll finally get to hear all those famous songs about geralt from the source, and he says he hopes so.

it doesn’t take him long to find his bard, now a professor at oxenfurt academy, and geralt thinks that makes perfect sense because where else would jaskier have gone but to one of the few bright bits of his youth?

he gets to oxenfurt and it’s a cloudless day, and there’s people millig about and he thinks he’ll head to an inn and give roach a well-deserved rest, and then his heart stops. because there is jaskier, exchanging coin for parchment, and he looks just as he did a year and a half ago, except less disappointed and more happy and his heart hasn’t beaten this fast since he was a child left on vesemir’s doorstep. he thinks of all the nights he’s been unable to sleep because he had gotten so used to the bard’s humming and how it had been the most soothing wordless lullaby. he thinks of his last words, and he feels his breath leave him, because jaskier had taken it to heart, and left him. he’d given geralt his one blessing, and geralt thinks that those words are something he will regret for as long as he is living. he gives himself a moment to wonder if perhaps he should leave jaskier to the life he’s created for himself, be unselfish for once and let jaskier remain happy and safe and free.

he should leave, though he knows that jaskier deserves so much more from him, an apology to start, and then a real friendsip, one tat goes both ways, and wow, geralt really is a wart-covered dick because he had treated jaskier so unfairly and he doesn’t undertsand why jaskier kept coming back to him, again and again. destiny hadn’t entwined their paths. jaskier chose to entangle them anyways. and he deserves so much more than geralt of rivia, and he should let jaskier have that, he should...

but he couldn’t walk away now, not when jaskier, his bard, his life-long friend, is standing right there, and jaskier turns, collecting his items and geralt stops breathing because jaskier looks over, and geralt watched the recognition flit over the bard’s face as he sees roach and then up, up, up, his eyes trace geralt’s form until.

their eyes meet, and jaskier smiles.

tl;dr: i just want more realistic portrayls of jaskier’s emotions after the Big Fight in episode 6, and i want to see jaskier go through all the feelings, and more depth to him that just some pining, heartbroken lump of a person. he’s more nuanced than that, i think.

p.s: a big part of this ended up being based on my own experineces with love and friendship, pain and hertbreak, and the process of moving forward despite it all. idk how much of that comes through, and i hadn’t really planned for this post to go in the direction that it did, but i like how it turned out. i’m still trying to figure out that tricky little thing about making the choice to let go, and writing this helped?

p.p.s: this ended up way, way, wayyyyy longer than i intended, oops? why do i do this lol

p.p.p.s: if fics like this actually exist, please feel free to tag me in them or send me links, i would adore you forever!

#jaskier #geralt #geraskier #oh also #personal #lol why am i like this #the witcher #works and writings and other such musings

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atc74 · 5 years

Text

New Adventures

Warnings: Established poly relationship, fluff, pregnancy, birth, slight angst if you squint, fluff.

Summary: Jared, Jensen, and Y/N give an exclusive interview, breaking the news of their relationship and pregnancy to the public. Baby is born and they celebrate Christmas.

Pairing: J2 x Reader

Word Count: 1916

Beta’d by: no beta, all mistakes are my own. Images found on google and pinterest.

A/N: This has a few time jumps in it to fit it in for the Holidays! This is the last installment of To New Beginnings, which originally started as most definitely not a request from @supernatural-jackles, who told me she would love to see me write a J2 x Reader. It has exceeded my expectations and I hope yours too!

As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

The days following the wrap party were filled with nerves for Jared, Jensen, and Y/N. After deciding to invite Samantha Highfill and Entertainment Weekly into their home, giving them an exclusive about their relationship and the baby, they were all excited, but definitely nervous. One month felt like a long time, but before they knew it, there was a camera crew set up in their living room.

“How do you feel now, having said goodbye to Dean and Sam Winchester, and Y/C/N?” Sam started off easy.

“We’ve had this question at conventions before and even now, the answer is the same,” Jensen began. “It’s not goodbye. Sam and Dean have been a part of us for the last fifteen years. I know Dean as well as I know myself and he’ll always be here.” He patted his chest.

“Jensen’s right. I was Y/C/N for only five years, but she’ll always be a part of me. We put so much of ourselves into our characters, that they’ll never truly be gone,” Y/N added.

Jared cleared his throat, clearly already a little emotional. “Never. As long as we, and the Supernatural family, are around, they’ll always be here.”

The easy questions continued for about thirty minutes, not that the next question Sam asked was difficult, but they all knew it was coming and this was the one they had prepared for all week.

“So what projects are on the horizon for you guys? Jensen, what do you have lined up?” Sam looked to Jensen first.

“It’s odd, you know? For the first time in twenty-three years, I am officially unemployed. I decided to take some time off, indefinitely. We’ll still be doing conventions here and there, and there’s the charity work, but I haven’t signed on for anything, filming wise,” Jensen informed her.

“Nothing caught your eye, yet?” Sam assumed.

“No, it’s nothing like that. We’ve all had some very interesting scripts sent to us, but for the time being, we’re concentrating on ourselves, our family, for the first time in a long time,” Jared added.

“What about you, Y/N? You taking time off, too?” Samantha inquired, hoping at least one of them had some interesting news to share. “Tell me you’ve got some top secret role up your sleeve for us.”

“There’s literally nothing up my sleeve, as you can see” Y/N laughed lifting her arms in her flowing tank, growing a little more nervous now that the attention was solely on her. “But I am taking on a new role before the end of the year.”

“That’s great! Care to share some juicy details about your new role?” Sam exclaimed.

“Well, I can tell you I am incredibly excited and terrified at the same time. It’s going to be a long term role, but I have the two best partners a girl could ask for going into it. It will be my most extensive and hopefully my most prominent role ever,” Y/N rattled.

“Sounds exhilarating! Is the role filled with some badassery in true Y/C/N fashion?” Sam winked at her.

“She will definitely be the badassest in this new role,” Jared laughed.

“Dude, that is not a word,” Jensen sighed. “I think what Jared is not so eloquently trying to say is that while the role is still being developed, Y/N here will be amazing and more than perfect for it.”

“Thank you both. I know we’ve got you more than a little perplexed, Sam. It’s motherhood. I’m pregnant,” Y/N finally blurted it out. They hadn’t told many people, only their immediate family and close friends. It felt real telling someone they barely knew and only in a professional capacity.

“What? Wow! Congratulations, Y/N! Who is the lucky man?”

“Well, that’s another story altogether,” Y/N said quietly. Jared and Jensen immediately picked up on her increased nervousness. Each of them picked up one of her hands in theirs and held tight.

“We are,” Jared and Jensen said at the same time.

The look on the journalists face told them she definitely was not expecting their answer and it took a moment for her to pull her thoughts together. “The three of you are...together then?”

“Polyamorus relationships remain taboo in this day and age, but throughout history they were quite common. No one person can give you everything you need. There are so many facets to a relationship and being someone’s everything is a hell of a lot of pressure, when you think about it. I personally feel that’s why more than half of marriages end in divorce. We’ve been together for about eighteen months now and every day keeps getting better,” Jared explained. “And the new roles we’ve embarked on are going to be our most extraordinary.”

“I’m thrilled to be a father. Scared as hell, but I know it will be worth every sleepless night,” Jensen interjected.

“Do you know which one of you is the father?” Samantha asked.

“We don’t know and we’re not going to find out,” Y/N began. “To us, it doesn’t matter. This baby will be loved beyond belief.”

“Our DNA? Mine or Jared’s, won’t dictate how much love we already have for this baby. We’re halfway to meeting our little bundle of joy and none of us can wait to truly begin this new chapter of our lives,” Jensen elaborated.

“It’s all about nurture for this baby. Nature will have nothing to do with it,” Jared added.

The interview continued for a few more minutes and as soon as the door closed, Y/N collapsed into a heap on the sofa. “I’m exhausted!”

“That was intense, but you were great, darlin’,” Jensen sat beside her, pulling her feet into his lap and rubbing them gently.

“I know we said we were ready, but now, I’m even more nervous,” Y/N admitted. “What if people hate us? They’re going to think we’re crazy!”

“Hey, hey now. We talked about this. Those that matter don’t care and those that care don’t matter, right? All that matters is how we feel and what we know to be the truth,” Jared reminded her, taking a seat as well, placing her head in his lap. “There will be haters no matter what, but there will also be a fuck ton of people that are really happy for us.”

“I know and you’re right. Thank you. I’m going to take a nap, but we’re still going shopping for the nursery, right?” Y/N looked up at both her men and they nodded in agreement. Jensen covered her with a light blanket, both of them kissing her softly before letting her rest. They decided to finish cleaning out one of the spare rooms that they planned on for the nursery. The next four months would go by in the blink of an eye.

~*~

“I hate you both!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs as another contraction seized her body and she pushed once again. Y/N had been admitted to the hospital four hours earlier after her water broke.

“Darlin’, you’re doing such a good job. We’re so proud of you. Just a few more pushes and you’ll be done and we’ll have our baby in our arms, okay?” Jensen encouraged from his spot on her right. One hand under her knee, the other in a death grip in hers.

“You’re so strong, baby. We love you so much,” Jared cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to her sweat soaked hairline. Her body relaxed slightly as the contraction eased, but he knew they weren’t done yet.

“I love you. I’m sorry I yelled,” Y/N cried. Her body was sore and exhausted from the labor. She didn’t think she could go on and then another contraction hit.

“Okay, Y/N, one more and the baby’s head should be out. Push hard for me,” the doctor instructed. “Dads, help her out, we’re almost there.”

Tears feel freely from her eyes as she bore down, Jared and Jensen each pushing her legs up and her back forward as she pushed. Screams tore through the room. Jared and Jensen caught each others eyes, both wet with their own tears, because they knew there was absolutely nothing they could do to make it easier on her.

“Okay, the head is out! One more hard push, Mama, and your baby will be here,” the doctor informed them. A moment later, a cry sounded and it gave Y/N the strength to keep going.

Y/N gave it her all and she felt the pressure ease. “It’s a boy!”

Born one week early on Halloween of all days, Jack Winchester Padalecki-Ackles weighed in at a very healthy eight pounds, three ounces and twenty-one inches long. Wrapped in a soft blanket, he slept peacefully in his mother’s arms, a bright orange pumpkin cap on his head.

~*~

The room was lit only by the lights of the Christmas tree and the moon shining through the large glass windows overlooking the mountains of Vancouver. Y/N sat nestled comfortably on the sofa, nursing Jack before bed. Christmas had been a busy time for the new family with all three sets of parents visiting to spend time with them.

Jensen carried a tray of hot chocolate and set it down on the table in front of her. As she shifted Jack over her shoulder to burp him, Jared swooped him up, Jensen handing her a steaming mug. “Take a break, darlin’.”

An enormous belch escaped their baby and the three of them giggled softly.

“Our first Christmas as a family is in the books,” Jared said quietly, Jack dozing in his father’s arms.

“And a great Christmas it was,” Jensen added, taking a sip of his cocoa.

“Mhmm,” Y/N agreed, yawning contentedly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But it’s not over yet. Jen, would you check Jack’s stocking one more time, please?”

“What did you do now, Y/N?” he chuckled, getting up and moving to the mantle. He pulled a small package from inside the hand knitted stocking and returned to the sofa.

“Well, open it!” Y/N insisted, the smile on her face growing with each passing second.

Jensen tore the paper open and revealed a small flat box. Ripping the tape from the sides, he lifted the top and his eyes went wide as saucers. Jensen looked up from the gift, meeting her gaze first, then Jared’s. “Are you serious?”

She nodded excitedly. “I know we didn’t exactly talk about it, but we also didn’t do anything to prevent it. By next Christmas, we’ll have another baby. Merry Christmas, Jen. And you too, Jared.” She leaned over kissing them both, before placing a soft kiss to the top of Jack’s head, his fine hair tickling her lips.

Jared took the box from Jensen and looked at the small shirt inside. “Big brother.”

“I’m loving this new adventure,” Jensen declared, wrapping his arm around Y/N tightly and kissing her lips.

Jared reached over, taking her hand in his. “This really is the best adventure ever and there isn’t anyone I’d rather share it with than the two of you and our little ones.”

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @seenashwrite @manawhaat @crashdevlin @thoughtslikeaminefield @emoryhemsworth

The Dean’s List/Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural-jackles @akshi8278

The Sam Sin-dicate / Jared’s Menagerie: @supernatural-jackles

#j2 x reader #j2 x reader fluff #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #Jared x Jensen x Reader #supernatural rpf

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howtodisassembleyourdeviant · 5 years

Text

Valentine

I know, it’s just a holiday to capitalize on love, but as someone who has never received a Valentine that wasn’t out of obligation, I have dreams, dang it!

Was gonna post it ON Valentine’s Day, but I realized I was off work on Monday (Off work = Offline) so I didn’t account for the missing day when working on my stories for Cute Girls and Hot Androids Week. Anyway, this is a good warm-up for what is to come. I guarantee my next ones won’t be so PG, so be warned!

He had never felt so terrified in his life. He has been in more life and death situations in his short life than most veteran officers. He fell off a roof to his death and helped free thousands of androids from the most powerful company in the world. None of that left him feeling as he did now. He was literally made for those kinds of situations, however, so why would he feel nervous as he does now? This was something so far beyond his comfort zone he was wondering why he was doing it. Then, you walk by, bright smile, eyes sparkling when they meet his, hips swaying in a way that demanded his rapt attention. He is reminded of why. He loves you, and this was all about showing just how much.

Valentine's day.

It was an odd holiday, with many variations. He studied up on it, coming across traditions and tips. He got distracted a couple of times, reading about a few homicides that happened on the same day. In the end, according to his research, there was a good chance you would not appreciate it if he didn't make a big deal of the holiday, and it could deal a blow to yours and his relationship. With the relationship being so young, not even a year yet, he cannot afford that kind of risk. He still thinks back to Christmas and cringes, hearing you shouting at him for scanning one of his gifts before he could open it. He could only imagine how much worse it would have been had he gotten to the others.

Still, that was then, and he had learned his lesson. He has studied up on the holiday and has started to construct a plan. It will be the most romantic night of your life.

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

He was staring at the roses in the display case. Tradition dictates that a dozen red roses were the most romantic. His eyes locked on them and his body froze. He sees the trellis and the woman standing before it, tending to the blood-colored blooms. He hears her voice, condemning his every action. Disappointment.

"Sir?" A voice chimes from behind him. How long has he been standing here? "Is there something I can help you with?" The small woman smiled up at him. Her appearance reminds him of a garden gnome he had seen while walking Sumo. It only seems fitting that she should work here.

"Y-" he clears his throat, "-Yes. I'm looking to get a bouquet."

"Alright, well, let's start simple. Who's it for?"

"My girlfriend." It still felt like a foreign word from his tongue, but it made him smile nonetheless.

"I see. For Valentines?" She had an insinuating smugness about her face, "Well, roses are a fine choice,-" she saw him eye them, as if they would attack at any moment, "-however, sometimes sticking to traditions can be considered boring. Not all women like that. Instead, try focusing on what she would like."

What you like? Why didn't he think of that? Did you even like roses? Looking over memories, he noticed you commenting more on the different colors and their fragrance rather than the roses physical appearance. You liked them, but no more than any other flowers. You would choose by appearance, rather than by name. He started broadening his sights, looking at the many different blossoms the little shop housed. You like to show him things that spark your interests, so he tries thinking like you. What would you want to show him? He finds what he's looking for on a shelf. Would this be okay?

"She has unique tastes, " the store clerk beamed, taking his choice up to the front.

"I suppose this is as far from tradition as you could possibly get, " he felt anxious about his choice. He knows you'd love it, but what does it have to do with Valentine's day?

"Then make your own tradition. If it's true love, then whatever you do will be perfect in her eyes." He smiled. This garden gnome was clearly wise beyond her years. What is the lifespan of a gnome? He was getting distracted again.

"Thank you, Ms.-" Connor tries not to scan people off shift after Hank chastised him.

"Greta is just fine." Greta the Garden Gnome. Surely this can be no accident. "I hope your lady loves her gift."

"I'm sure she will."

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

Getting the chocolates was much easier. He knew your favorite brand and which ones to avoid. He had thought about making them himself, as tradition dictates that to be the most endearing, but his cooking skills were... Subpar. He was still adjusting to tastes and has learned he has a penchant for becoming distracted. He supposes his 'free thinking' mixed with his original program, to find out as much as possible in as little of time allowed, making it almost impossible to focus on one thing for too long.

The little heart-shaped box only made his bizarre choice at the floral shop stand out. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the advice from a gnome to heart. It was too late now. Instead, he placed it in a small, red bag with pink tissue paper. At least this way it looked like a Valentine's present.

He walked towards your desk with his gifts in hand. When he didn't see you there, he assumed you must be running late. What he did see were several gifts stacked on top of your desk, along with a couple of bouquets and five separate boxes of chocolates. You had many... Admirers. It shouldn't bother him. He knew you were desirable to many. Yet, seeing all the blatant show of such affections, some even giving you their numbers, knowing you were already in a relationship. It rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he set his gift among the many flashier ones before heading to his own desk.

He was shocked to find gifts addressed to him waiting for him, along with a bouquet of roses. Many of them were the same thirium-based chocolates, some of the only products made specifically for androids. He didn't particularly care for the flavor, the chocolate had a cheap, artificial taste compared to the chocolate syrup he tasted at your house.

It was the roses that he was stuck on. He wants to remove them. Seeing them here, where he works, felt too much like they were barring down on him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He takes them and sets them on the ground, under his desk. Out of sight, out of mind. The rest of the gifts were shifted to the side.

You show up a few moments later. He was a little disappointed you did not come up to greet him, but you looked annoyed, so you might have chosen to spare him of your sour mood. You looked over your gifts, and Connor watched as you systematically dumped most of them in the trash, slamming it down before taking your seat and getting to work. That... Was not generally something people did when they received gifts. Only his gifts remained, much to his relief, though you didn't seem to pay them much mind either. A part of him was satisfied that you had ruthlessly destroyed all those people's hearts in one swift action, but he was astonished you would do something so tactless. Perhaps something happened to trigger your bad mood. He stood, hoping to help.

"Good morning, Y/n." Connor smiled down at you, standing next to your desk.

"Morning." You answered automatically, but it was brisk and clipped. You didn't even look up from your computer. Had he done something wrong?

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." He continued to stare expectantly.

"I said, I'm fine!" You snapped.

He knows he should back off when you're like this, that he could only make it worse, but instead, he got down on his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Please, tell me what's wrong. I want to help." For a moment, he believes he had made the wrong choice, as you looked like you wanted to throttle him. Your gaze was intense, and he could see the red of his LED reflecting from your eyes. It takes a minute, but you lean forward and whisper into his ear.

"Why are you hiding the roses under your desk?" Your words were venomous, making a panic rise in him. You had seen him hide them, and he realizes that could be misinterpreted as concealing the gift so you wouldn't see it.

"I... I become distressed when I see red roses. I didn't want to look at them." He looked away, feeling foolish. What kind of person is afraid of roses? You knew of the zen garden, so you of all people would understand. "They remind me of her." You were quiet for a moment, your anger quickly melting.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" You buried your face in your hands, "God, I'm so stupid." You muttered to yourself.

"No, you're not."

"I am! I thought, 'since you like clichés so much, you'll probably prefer the traditional gift for Valentine's Day.'" Wait a minute.

"The roses were from you?"

"Yes! Didn't you read the card?" He stood up, going to his desk and reaching under, grabbing the thin, glass vase the roses resided in. Riffling around them, he finds a card with a cartoon picture of a dog holding a heart on it. He flipped it over.

"My heart blooms only for you. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love. -❤Y/n" he could see the impression of your lips pressed into the card, making his thirium pump vibrate within his chest. Hiding your roses while he had only pushed the other gifts to the side seemed so much worse than hiding roses from a secret admirer.

He heard a sniffling sound, seeing that you had turned back to your terminal, but your shoulders were trembling. You were trying so hard not to cry at work. Connor went back to you, pulling you from your seat and practically dragging you to the first available space, which happened to be the old records room. Before you could say anything, his lips crashed into yours, holding you tightly against him. He held your face, turning it slightly to get that perfect angle. Your hand went to the back of his neck, combing through his hair as your other one held his shirt in a death clasp, likely wrinkling the material, but he couldn't care less. He kept you locked to his ravenous lips until you were on the verge of passing out, pulling back as you gasped for air.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, " he murmured, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

"I'm sorry, too. I saw you hide them and I made assumptions."

"You had no way of knowing. To be honest, I hadn't thought it was an issue until I was looking at them at the flower shop."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, another time, maybe. Right now, I want to get through the workday, then take my girlfriend out on a romantic date. She might even gift me with a kiss at the end of the evening." He winked, making you smile.

"You just might get a little more than that, if you like. Valentine's Day has many traditions for couples." At that, you dipped the hem of your jeans slightly, showing a bit of lace that had Connor captivated. His hands itched to reveal more, but you readjusted your pants, snapping out of your hold over him.

"We should probably get to work, " you spoke. He pulled you close for another kiss before grabbing the door, letting you lead the way. Instead of heading to your desk, you went to his, grabbing the roses.

"It's fine, you can leave them-" but you chucked them into the trash in the break room.

"I'm not gonna leave them if they bother you. Besides, I have another gift for you." You went to your desk and grabbed your bag, rifling around, "I was gonna wait until after work, but here." You handed him a package, wrapping paper covered in blue and red hearts with a gold bow over the top. He opened it carefully, and inside was a hand-made knitted hat. It was grey, with a blue heart next to the cute face of a St. Bernard. On top was a pom pom with grey, white, and blue strings. He smiled.

"I hope it fits. I used your other beanie as a reference." He slipped it on, the inside lined with fleece, making the hat much warmer and softer.

"It's perfect. Did you make it yourself?"

"Mostly. Simon helped me. I wanted to make you something, but as you can't eat solids, I thought I'd ask him for his opinion. I've never knitted anything before, but he's a pretty good teacher."

"I love it, thank you." You smiled, looking bashful before remembering the bag on your desk. You picked it up.

"Careful, " Connor warned before you could shove your hand inside. Instead, you picked the tissue out and looked inside.

"Oh my God!" You carefully took out the small teddy bear planter. Growing inside was a Bear Paw succulent, all bundled together with their pink little claws. "It's so adorable! Thank you!"

"I thought you might prefer this."

"I love it! What made you buy a cactus though?" Some might find that insulting for Valentines.

"A garden gnome." You gave him a look.

"A... Garden gnome?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that brain of yours."

......

I like thinking that Connor is a bit oblivious with anything that doesn’t have to do with detective work. I also seen a few posts where Connor has an aversion to roses, particularly red ones, so I thought I’d play off that idea. Was gonna have them go on their date and all that jazz, but I don’t know when to shut up, so the rest is up to your imagination! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

#Cute Girls and Hot Androids #connor x reader #rk800 connor reader #Connor fanfiction #rk800 #DBH #detroit become human #valentine #gaming

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