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#i fought them off and someone else im good friends with came and beat them up and held me and kept me safe
tagiscool · 8 months
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Girls when they are hit with the overwhelming urge to be held and protected
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fuckyeah-dragrace · 1 month
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WIP Wednesday!
been a while since i've done this but i think it'll be good! i think im nearly finished with this work im getting done and i'd love to give you all a sneak peek!
Maybe it was dumb for Jasmine to still have a sore spot for that tall punk, she could see that. But no matter how many times she told herself she was rising above and over it all, nothing took away the sting and bite from hearing her name.
She laid in her bed, one she slept many a sleepover at the Colby’s back in childhood and stared up at the ceiling, letting the memories wash over her. She wasn’t going to sleep anyways.
Daya was the cool girl, the tough girl dressed in black platforms and dyed her hair every damn color of the rainbow three times over. The one that was late to class and didn’t give shit or would just skip it all together.
Jasmine couldn’t tell you how she got her attention but she did, maybe it was pure lust and teenage hormones, maybe it was a bet from her other friends or something else entirely. It was senior year and Jasmine wanted to have fun so she let Daya take her on a wild ride.
God was it something special, she had to smile thinking back to every day they spent together. Sneaking out and riding around in her beat up truck, staying out way later than either of them were supposed to and having the time of their lives. All of it made her heart flutter as she sighed, thumbing the covers.
Graduation and summer came and went, filled with amazing memories on beaches and bikinis, their only worries being getting a good tan and having the time of their lives and who knows what else she’s forgetting with the passage of time.
Then Jasmine left for school in New York, Daya was the one who actually pushed her to apply, and Daya stayed back, taking up a seamstress apprenticeship. They promised to make it work, with one last night in that beat up truck they linked their pinkies together, promising under the stars they’d last.
Jasmine’s hand went to her neck, finding the cheap metal chain still on her neck from that night and thumbing over the little green crystal that definitely wasn’t real jasmine but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it was from Daya and she'd never take it off, not in a million years.
They heard all of the lectures of long distance from anyone who stuck their nose in, it’d never work, you’re both so young, why tie yourself down? And at first she fought against them every time, saying it was different and they’d work out in the end. But then the phone calls grew less frequent, the ‘good morning’ texts just turned to ‘hey’ and before Jasmine could stop and hold down all the pieces they had to keep from breaking, Daya posted a picture with a blonde girl. Kissing that blonde girl and looking happier than ever.
Blair was her name but everyone called her Bosco, some childhood nickname or something, Jasmine didn't care to remember. She was cool and tall with dark eyeliner and leather clothes, someone that could get along with Daya better than she ever could. They got along so well that they had to kiss and have it shared out to the world for everyone to see.
She remembered sitting in her door room, staring down at her girlfriends instagram and seeing that picture and the world stopping. A blur of running to the bathroom and throwing up, too lost in the shock of it all to even bother to call her and scream or shout and chew Daya out through the phone because she looked so happy, that’s all she wanted.
Daya deserved that punk rock girl that could stud out their jackets together and blast whatever band of people screaming over the radio as she sped down those long stretches of road without a care in the world. She deserved that. But it didn’t mean that the memories still didn’t hurt every time a picture popped up on her Instagram or when Kerri mentioned her name briefly, knowing that she could never be that girl for Daya, no matter how much she wanted to.
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userholland · 4 years
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all for her [2]
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pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader
warnings: excessive drinking, cursing, mentions of blood, violence, etc.
summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?
word count: 10.8k!
the soundtrack:  dancing with your ghost - sasha sloan, chinese satellite - phoebe bridgers, never the 1 - rosie, waiting room - phoebe bridgers, guilty conscience - 070 shake
a/n: im so happy with the response from part 1 & excited that part 2 is now here!!! i think i’ll try to end with the next part but..... who knows. again, thank y’all for the feedback & hope you enjoy!
— masterlist ☆彡
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The night Summer was left on Tom’s doorstep was one he would never forget.
He moved into his apartment a month before and it was becoming more than the four, blank walls. It was in a quiet neighborhood, facing out to a street view of family-owned businesses and a bus stop. People passed the street often during the day, a good opportunity for people-watching from his small terrace. But when he closed the windows and locked the door, the feeling of being alone quickly settled in for the first time in his life. 
The thought of being independent was reliving now that he had a part-time job. He'd be able to live off his earnings with no guilt and bring whoever he wanted without disturbing his roommates. Even though he had his own place of solitude and privacy, Tom still managed to visit you at campus now that he was closer compared to the hours of driving before. He considered it as a pro to moving, but he really just needed any reason to just have you close.
Most times you’d come over, saying you had homework and studying to do, but with Tom, you never got anything done in one sitting. You made dinners together or ordered something in the middle of the night, watch movies interrupted by your playful comments or you would take a nap between your classes while he did his work.
The two of you were inseparable now throughout college, not stuck with the limited possibilities of what your small hometown gave to you. Everything was going smoothly and Tom was looking forward to what his future looked like, maybe even see you ending up together, but things took a turn when he opened the door and saw Summer, small and swaddled, in the baby carrier at his feet.
It was a Sunday, having your ideal night-in watching your favorite movie, and ordering food for dinner. Your head rested on Tom’s lap, your eyes trying to focus on the TV but they fluttered. Tom had his arm around the back of the couch with his right foot on the coffee table. Sometimes he’d glance down at you, making sure you didn’t fall asleep because you had more studying to do, but he gently shook you every few minutes when he thought he heard your light snores.
“Hmm, I’m awake.” You grumbled.
“Judging from your snoring, I don’t think you are.” He smiled, moving your hair out of your face.
Your face scrunched together, “I don’t snore.”
“You don’t? Not like this?” He jeered, making an obnoxious noise as he leaned his head back.
You pressed your face against his cheek, tilting his head to the side and lightly gripping at his hair. Laughs and giggles echoed the apartment as you fought like kids, Tom’s hand holding your wrist to push it away from his face until the doorbell rang.
“Finally! I’m starving.” You said, thinking the Chinese food was here.
You jumped up from the couch, walking into the kitchen to get plates. Tom chuckled as he headed toward the door, “Are you excited? I couldn’t tell.” He said sarcastically, grabbing the tip money off the kitchen counter.
The baby was asleep, her chubby cheeks were a rosy pink as well as her lips. She looked peaceful bundled in a soft, yellow blanket, but fear instilled within Tom. He wasn’t sure what to do, his mind starting to race and his heart beating faster. He took a few steps into the hall and looked both ways. It was ominous how no one was around, yet there was someone at the door a few seconds ago.
“Hello?” He shouted, his hands against each side of the doorframe.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’s going on?” You nervously chuckled.
The moment your eyes met the baby at Tom’s feet, your mouth slightly gapped with a trailed gasp.
“This has to be a joke…” Tom trailed.
You kneeled, reaching for the note tucked in by her leg. It was on a torn piece of notebook paper with Tom’s name scribbled on the front in pencil.
“I can’t take care of her. Please understand. Maggie.” You read off, biting your bottom lip.
He continued to stare at Summer, her hair barely grown and her skin so pink. He assumed she had been born a few weeks ago, maybe months. All he could process was that there was a baby on his doorstep and he had no idea what to do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
It took a few minutes to get Maggie calm, but they went in the hall to talk so Summer didn’t wake up. It was none of your business, but you still stood close to the door with your back against the wall as their muffled conversation faded in and out.
“How did you even find me?” Tom asked.
“None of your business.” She snapped, “I don’t know why this is  such a big deal.” Maggie chimed, crossing her arms.
Tom scoffed, “Because you’ve never made any effort to see her and suddenly, you want to come and pick her up and take her like she’s a puppy in an ad you found this morning.”
She smiled in spite, “Don’t talk to me like that-”
“How else am I supposed to act? You just told me she’s not mine!”
“Because she’s not! I had to dump her on someone!”
Every word that came out of Maggie’s mouth felt like a repeating stab in the heart. He couldn’t believe anything she said, convinced he hated her at that moment, but he somehow held his head high because he knew he’d fight for Summer no matter what Maggie could tell him.
“You’re not taking her. End of discussion.” Tom uttered, tears welling up in his eyes.
Maggie reached into the back pocket of her denim jeans, pulling out a folded piece of paper, and forcefully handed it to Tom. He stared at it for a few seconds, his hand lightly shaking as he slowly opened it by the ends.
“You still think I’m lying?” She scoffed as they both glared at the paper.
It was Summer’s birth certificate, dated on this day six years ago which made time seem so fast. His dry, tired eyes searched the paper until they locked to the father’s name box, a name he didn’t know and certainly wasn’t his.
“Either I call the police now or you give her… right here, right now,” Maggie growled with no hesitation.
Tom clenched his jaw, “You can’t-”
“I sure as hell can… and we both know you’re not dumb so, just give her to me.” She demanded as if Tom could process all of this while his world was crashing around him.
Tom licked his lips, sealing them to hide the pain that ached in his heart and spread throughout every nerve of his body. A single tear fell down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it with the back of his hand. Tom wanted to composed himself to stay strong, but he didn’t know he could crumble so easily from a small number of words.
“Can we do this tomorrow? I just wanna spend one more day with her.” He asked politely, the whites of his eyes now a light pink.
She stood there, not saying anything and her arms were still crossed.
“Please… Maggie.” Tom pleaded, feeling a bit pathetic.
Tom thought back to that conversation, replaying it in his head so much that he didn’t sleep all night. His constant shifting throughout the night didn’t let either of you get much sleep, but it’s not like you were either, laying there and wondering how much you could do. 
You were surprised he didn’t cry, shout or lash out in some random outburst of pure anger. It’s what you would’ve done, but you knew that Tom was trying to convince himself it wasn’t real. The denial would eat him alive, only because he believed Maggie was telling the truth and would take Summer no matter how hard he thought of a way to not let her.
“Tom?... Tom!” Your voice seemed miles away.
Tom glanced up to meet your eyes, letting out an embarrassed chuckle as his ears tinted pink. The sounds within the diner became audible to him, not remembering how he got lost in a daze. 
“In your own little world again?” You grinned, knowing that he was always one for thinking too much.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” Tom rubbed his hands down his face and straightened his back against the booth.
You sealed your lips, “You can talk to me about-”
“I’m fine, Y/N.” He retorted, nodding his head at you.
“Okay…” You trailed.
When his whole world was turned around the night before, you choose to not take his short attitude personally. All you could do was be there for him and you wanted to try your best. Seeing his hand rested on the table, you placed yours on top and reassured him, “It’s gonna be okay.”
He didn’t look at you, but you laid your head on against his shoulder. You caressed your thumb over his skin before grasping his hand and giving it a light squeeze. You brushed your cheek against his black hoodie, smelling the fresh lavender and nuzzling against his arm to remind him that you weren’t planning on leaving or letting him go.
Summer ran down the empty aisle, jumping into the booth and she laughed to herself, “I got this!”
You leaned up from Tom so he could see what she had in her small hand. Her casted arm rested on the table, signatures written all over it from her birthday party.
“It’s for you.” Summer smiled, putting the object in Tom’s hand.
He glanced at it, seeing a small plastic container with a yellow top sealing it. Inside was a cheap ring with the metallic paint partially chipped off and there was a blunt blue jewel in the middle.
“You sure you want to give it to me? It’s so pretty.” Tom managed to smile back at her, observing the ring.
“Yeah, Daddy. I promise.” She grinned, her tongue between her teeth as she flashed another smile that he thought resembled his.
Tom didn't want to believe that someone so full of spite and bitterness could be her mother, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. No matter how much he could hate Maggie for what she’s doing, Tom couldn’t ruin their possible relationship because she was her mother.
After the three of you finished your late breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, you got up to use the restroom, but also gave time for Tom to say his last goodbyes to Summer alone. You rubbed Tom’s shoulder before you slipped out of the booth, keeping your eyes on him until you turned the corner.
Tom grinned at her, but he still wasn’t sure how to tell Summer about Maggie other than she was spending the night with her for a while, thinking she would take to it but instead a confused look painted on her round face.
“I thought Y/N was my mommy.” She admitted even though he had denied her multiple times that you were.
He couldn’t hide his smile, “I’ve told you she’s not. She’s my friend. My best friend.”
“Daddy, I don’t want to go. I wanna stay with you and Y/N.” Summer persisted, placing her blue crayon down. She always got a wrinkle between her eyebrows when they furrowed.
“It’ll be a few days,” Tom assured, but he didn’t know.
“But, I don’t wanna.” She whined, bouncing a bit in her seat.
As much as he wanted to, Tom couldn’t say no. He knew this was going to happen before he could know anything else was going behind his back with Maggie. Summer pouted her lips as her mood changed, leaning back with her hair pushed up against the booth.
Tom shifted over, “Come here.” He asked her, patting where you were sitting earlier.
Summer wiggled out of her side of the booth, touching her feet to the ground before quickly lifting herself into the seat and curling up next to Tom. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her hair, feeling an instant warmth even though she was so tiny. It was as if he blinked and was surprised to see her growing so fast. His sweet daughter went from a toddler with bright blue paint on her hands and knees and blossoming into a young girl with ideas that could reach the moon and back.
“It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna have so much fun. I promise.” He sniffled, his voice cracking a bit.
“Pinky promise?” She asked, lifting her casted arm to him.
His lip quivered, but Tom quickly smiled, “Promise… and we always keep our promises, right?”
She nodded, wrapping her tiny pinky around his then squeezing it tight, “Always, daddy.”
Tom remembered when she was only able to wrap her whole hand around that same finger, wondering where the time went. He wanted to go back to when she barely had hair on her head or when he had to follow her around the room when she started to crawl, as she grabbed at stray cords or tried to get under the couch. 
“You have all your stuff?” Tom asked her.
“Mhmm, got my colors and favorite books.” Summer nodded, grabbing a piece of bacon off Tom’s place, “Do you think she’ll read them in the voices? Like you and Y/N do?”
Tom sealed his lips, “Maybe if you ask her nicely.” He cracked a smile, moving Summer’s hair out of her face.
As you walked up to the booth, Tom lifted his head and mouthed to you that he was okay. In the bathroom, you had to compose yourself before Maggie showed up. No excuse could make this situation better and all you could do was be patient and be there for Tom. While that was easier to think of, you knew as soon as you made contact with her bright green eyes, all you wanted to do was yell and protest that she doesn’t deserve to feel good about this.
“What did I miss? Anything interesting?” You joked, trying to keep the mood light.
“Daddy said I’m gonna have a lot of fun this weekend.” Summer mentioned, smiling at you with her crooked smile.
You gulped, your throat feeling dry, “Yeah, lots of fun.” You forced a grin.
The low music over the speakers filled the silence, not knowing what to say about this, especially in front of Summer. Tom kept his arm wrapped around his shoulder, but he stared out of the window with his hand on his chin, slightly covering his mouth. He didn’t want to cry, he was trying, but the more Tom thought about how there was a chance he couldn’t get Summer back, the more he dug deep to find a way to stop it.
“Hi, Tom.”
He quickly turned his head, seeing Maggie standing in front of the booth. She wore a sleek leather jacket with a maroon shirt underneath and it intimidated Summer. She furrowed her faint eyebrows, but Tom pulled back his arm around her.
“Hey, Maggie.” He didn’t look in her eyes.
She didn’t pay you any mind, choosing to ignore that you were sitting right there, but it’s not like you wanted her to give you any attention.
Summer scooted out of the booth along with Tom, both of them standing across from Maggie. There’s no doubting it was an awkward situation, but nevertheless, Tom continued to stay mature about it. He grabbed Summer’s backpack off the ground, helping her put both her arms through the straps.
“Okay, kid. I’ll see you in a few days.” Tom chuckled with his hands on Summer’s shoulders.
“Promise?” She asked, her big eyes so glossy.
He immediately clenched his jaw, knowing lying to her would hurt like a stab to his heart, but maybe it was for the better right now. There were many ways he could reply that didn’t sound like the lie it was yet he couldn’t come up with anything except, “Promise.” because he knew he would try to keep it as much as he could from where he stood.
Summer wrapped her arms around his legs as tight as she could, “I love you, daddy.” She mumbled.
“I love you too. Always.” He said before kissing the top of her head.
She looked over her shoulder at you sitting in the booth, not forgetting to say goodbye to you too. Summer walked up and got on her knees in the booth, feeling them sink into the cushion. Her small arms wrapped around you and you giggled, giving her a tight squeeze back.
“Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Summer.” You grinned, giving her a last glance.
She shimmed once more and stood in front of Maggie, still standing there with her arms crossed and one of her eyebrows arched.
“Let’s get going,” Maggie said, her happy tone sounding forced.
Without caring to hold Summer’s hand, Maggie began to walk away, but Summer stood still. Her little heart was racing, not sure what to do even though she was told to go with this strange woman who was supposedly her mom.
Tom glanced at Summer, his lips going to the side as he watched tears well up in her eyes. She sniffled, looking down at her feet and her body felt frozen. It was a new feeling to her, not knowing why she was suddenly so scared. It reminded Tom of her first day of kindergarten. She hid behind his leg while they stood in the hallway and all the kids slowly filled the room. He tried to nudge her to meet a new friend, maybe talk about her hobbies, but she was gripping on his jeans from how scared she was.
Just like he did on her first day of school, Tom kneeled on one knee in front of her. He angled his head to look into her eyes, trying to see her full face. He tilted her chin up and wiped her tears with his thumb, catching them as they ran down more.
“Hey, you remember when we saw the penguins at the zoo?” He grinned.
She nodded, her lip pouted.
“And you remember what the zookeeper said? That penguins always find each other, no matter where they are or how far they are... they’ll always find their way back to the colony… and just like penguins, we always find our way home too.” Tom explained, fixing the end of her jacket.
“Really, daddy?”
“Of course. You’re gonna have to keep your head up for a few days though.” He gulped, a small smirk on his lips.
Summer leaned in, wrapping her arms around Tom’s neck again and he coiled her arm around her, squeezing her arm tight. He left a quick kiss on her temple and Tom slowly stood up, trying to pull himself away so it didn’t become harder to leave her.
Maggie stood a few feet away, a bit of disappointment in her eyes. She thought this was going to be the easy part of this process, but it proved harder now that she could visibly see the bond Summer and Tom had created. You watched her lips pin together, not knowing what to do but stand there until they were done talking.
“I love you.” Summer said to Tom again.
“Love you more, kid.” He chuckled, his voice breaking from holding back his tears, “Remember to keep your cast dry. Okay?”
She slipped away from his arms and Tom’s heartfelt heavier the more he said his goodbyes. Summer held her head high and walked up to Maggie, lifting her hand up for her to hold. Maggie hesitantly reached for it, but she glanced at Tom for some kind of permission to. Tom sealed his lips and you slid out of the booth, standing behind him as you watched the two of them walk outside the diner.
“She’ll be back soon.” You whispered, rubbing his tense shoulder.
“Yeah…” He trailed, forcing a grin for you. Tom knew he didn’t have to fake his emotions for you, but right now, he didn’t want to admit he was torn apart inside.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The days didn’t pass by as quickly as Tom hoped. He didn’t realize how fast work was when he had Summer to come home to. It was hard for him to get out of bed, make meals for himself or concentrate on anything he was doing. Luckily, you were there for him or, at least, tried to be. You weren’t sure what would happen to your friendship after your sudden kiss, but you felt like it was inappropriate to bring up with what happened after it. Even though the status of your possible relationship was unknown and your feelings were still strong, you were there for Tom no matter what.
In the morning, you stirred in the sheets and felt the soft fabric of the pillow against your cheek. As you reached your arm over on Tom’s side of the bed, your hand brushed over the cotton linens which made you slowly open your eyes. The duvet was folded over and his pillow was propped up, showing you he had been up for a while before he got up. You let out a long yawn, stretching your arms and legs and feeling the cold air against your skin.
You walked around the bed, grabbing the blanket at the end of it and wrapping it over your shoulders before leaving the bedroom. When you got to the end of the hallway, you saw Tom sitting on the couch with a box in his lap and a few pictures scattered on the cushion. Your lips went to the side as you approached him, trying to be quiet but the sound of the floor creaking made Tom look over his shoulder.
“Morning.” You grinned, standing behind the couch.
You ran your hands over his hair, playing with it before you looked at the pictures. They were of Summer since she was a baby, most of them were birthday pictures or other special events, like when she lost her first tooth or the first time she stood up. Tom cherished the memories, hoping they would make him happy, but all they did was remind him how he felt like a failure.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?” Tom asked, his voice groggy and deep.
“Fine, and you?” You replied as you trailed your hand from his hair, walking over to the kitchen.
“Good.” He lied, running his thumb against his left eye before grabbing another picture.
It was Summer’s first Halloween and he dressed her up in the homemade lion costume you worked so hard on. He half-smiled thinking about when you drew in a nose with black paint and she scrunched her face, the bristles of the brush tickling before Summer sneezed. Before you could warn her, she wiped her nose with her hand and you and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. With Halloween just around the corner, his smile fell wondering if they would have another one together.
“Here you go. Dark and two sugars.” You softly said, handing him a cup of coffee, just the way he liked it.
“Thank you.” He weakly smiled, taking a short sip.
“How are you feeling?” You asked.
Tom placed his cup of coffee on the table and collected the pictures so you could sit beside him.
“Better. I got a little more sleep.” He muttered and set the box of pictures on the floor.
You pulled off the fuzzy blanket on the arm of the couch before you sat down, laying it over your and Tom’s lap. Your crisscrossed your legs, holding your mug in your lap while Tom put his free arm around your shoulders. When you turned your head to Tom, he didn’t have the same natural glow to him. 
He was struggling to find some kind of closure, but the lack of communication with Maggie made it hard for him to not overthink. There were no calls and rarely a text. Tom was going crazy, replaying the last moments with Summer in his head.
“Maybe you can skip work today.” You suggested, rubbing the top of his leg.
Tom nodded, “I can’t. I need the tips. Hopefully, I can get Halloween night. I’ll be able to cover child support for the month.” He rubbed the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he tilted his head toward the ceiling.
Your lips went to the side, “Did Maggie say when you’d see Summer?”
He sighed, “No. I haven’t heard anything either.”
“That can’t be legal.”
“Summer’s not mine, Y/N. I don’t get to see her when I want.” Tom retorted as if he was defending her.
“You know that’s not true. It doesn’t matter if she’s your blood, you gave her the best life. Who knows? Maggie probably just forged it. People do it all the time. Why would she just come back when you slept together one time?” You acknowledged, not trusting her for a second.
“I don’t want to get into it.” He replied, taking another sip of coffee.
“Then when are you? Because I know you love that kid more than anything else in the world.” You protested, still facing him.
Tom finally looked your way, meeting your eyes, but he didn’t want to say anything. You didn’t expect a response because you knew that he did love her and he was going to find a way to get her back, no matter how long it took. You tilted your head at him, cracking a smile and tilting his chin up. The warmth that came from your comfort helped him see the brighter side in this, motivating him to see that this wouldn’t last forever.
“You know you’re the best, right?” Tom grinned.
You reached your hand up, intertwining yours with his that was hanging off your shoulder, “I try.” You joked, both of you sharing a light laugh.
You ran your fingers through Tom’s hair, trying to fix it, but he was growing it long as he did in high school. Tom let out a low chuckle, feeling your hand trail to cup his cheek and you rubbed your thumb over his cheek and the faint freckles painted across his soft skin.
While the past few days had been confusing, Tom knew that he wanted to be with you, but he didn’t want to stir you in his drama. As much as you had been there for the past six years, he realized that Summer was his responsibility, and to bring you into a triangle with him and Maggie didn’t seem fair. It’s not because he wanted to push you away for his selfish reasons, but because he wanted to protect you from whatever was going to happen from this point. You were still best friends and would always be, but it didn’t feel like enough after finally kissing each other and not wanting to let go.
As you pulled your hand back, you glanced down and see some of the pictures in the box. You quickly lean down, placing it on your lap and you picked through the various photos before there was one that brought back memories.
“I can’t believe you have this.” You chuckled, holding the photo close to your face.
Tom turned his head toward it, not knowing he had his eyes glued to you, and he instantly smiled.
“Ah, when I was your knight in shining armor.” He beamed at the picture of you with your broken arm and he stood next to you wearing his favorite baseball jersey.
“You mean when you carried my books for me and helped me put on my backpack, oh yeah, I remember.” You grinned, reminiscing to when the world wasn’t so complicated.
Tom smiled, “Don’t act like you didn’t love it.” He rubbed your shoulder, both of you chuckling at the memory. You handed him the picture, but he slowly was reminded of Summer and her recent accident.
“Shit..” He trailed, “I hope she’s kept her cast dry. I should call.” Tom said, unwrapping his arm from your shoulders and you watched him frantically looking for his phone around the apartment.
“Tom!”
“Huh?” He asked, lifting some papers on his counter.
You lifted his phone, his screen cracked, in your hand and grinned, “Looking for something?”
A relieved smile painted on his face as he walked over, taking the phone and he kissed a light kiss against the top of your head, “What would I do without you?”
It was nice to see him turning back to his old self, but you knew that his happiness was at the risk of being at Maggie’s beck and call. Even though you weren’t Summer’s mom, you wanted to have a say where she ends up too. 
You half-smiled, watching him walk down the hall to his bedroom. You turned toward the box of pictures, rummaging through enough to get an idea of how to organize them.
Tom slowly paced across his room as the phone rang, sweat on his palms that he brushed on the back of his jeans. He leaned his head toward the ceiling and tried not to overthink what he could say if he went straight to voicemail.
“Hello?” Maggie retorted, running her fingers through the crown of her hair.
“Hey. I just wanted to make sure things were okay.” Tom trailed as he sat on the edge of his bed.
“Fine, it’s fine.” She lied, searching through her laundry basket.
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, things are fine! I’m just trying to find this stupid sweater.” She grunted, pushing through all the folded clothes.
“What sweater?”
“Some yellow sweater with a heart on that she won’t stop complaining about.”
Summer was sitting on the couch, insisting she wanted to watch her favorite cartoons after breakfast. Maggie didn’t want to deal with the complaining and poking so it was relieving to keep her distracted instead of having to keep Summer entertained while she tried to work from home.
“Oh, I forgot to put it in there. Shit.” Tom cursed, quickly getting up.
He walked to Summer’s room, knowing the exact drawer he remembered placing it in and not surprised that it was there. Tom lifted the sweater, the sleeves unfolding, and seeing how worn it was from the ripped tag. He brought it up to his face, inhaling the lingering smell of watermelon and kiwi from her shampoo.
“Yeah, I got it. It’s here.” He told her, the phone between his ear and shoulder.
“Okay, I’ll come over and get it.” Maggie huffed.
“No, no! I can go over there. I have to go to work later so I can come by.” Tom offered, glaring at the small sweater in his hand.
“Depends, are you going to bring… Y/N?” She crossed her arms as she leaned against the washing machine, “Because I don’t think she’s been a good influence.”
Tom’s eyebrows arched, “Excuse me?”
“Summer says “Y/N lets me do this or Y/N and I do this” and I don’t think it’s good considering she’s not her mom. She shouldn’t have such big control over her.” Maggie said loud enough for Summer to hear from the couch.
“You weren’t there for her and she was so, I’m sorry if she acts like her mom more than you.” Tom chimed.
Maggie clenched her jaw, “Just drop it off. Okay?”
“Sure. I’ll be over around three.”
She hung up abruptly and Tom was left upset from not being able to talk to Summer. He hated how he didn’t have any sense of control, to think that this could be the way things are until she goes off to college. Out of anger, Tom threw his phone across the room that made a loud thud against the wall. His blood boiled and tears filled his eyes, bringing the sweater back to his face and trying to let the lingering scent keep him calm.
You stood in the hall across from the door and it was close enough to hear the whole conversation. Every word made your heart drop, not knowing what you could do for him. You hated eavesdropping, but it was getting harder to get the truth from Tom as the days went by. He was falling apart and it was getting too painful to slowly watch.
“Tom?” You softly asked, knocking on the door.
He left the sweater on the bed, wiping his eyes with the end of his t-shirt before grabbing his phone off the floor. To his relief, the already cracked screen didn’t have any new damage. Tom wiped the screen against his pants before opening the door to meet your gaze.
“Sorry about that. I just got frustrated.” He avoided looking in your eyes.
“It’s okay.” You tell him, not needing any assurance. All you did was wrap your arms around him and tell him that it would all be okay, even if you didn’t really know if it would be.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The half-hour drive to Maggie’s apartment felt like hours to Tom, his head filled with what he was going to say to her or how he was going to handle whatever she told him. He bit on his nails on his left hand while the other gripped the top of the steering wheel tight. Right when he thought of the things he could say, his anxiety made him forget all of the rational thoughts.
As he parked in a parallel spot, Tom got out of the car with the sweater in one hand with a duffle in the other. He carefully crossed the street and entered the complex, walking up the stairs to the fourth level. When he entered through the exit door, he saw the floors were polished and the lighting was bright since there were no windows. It all came off as luxurious and bare, nothing but one or two paintings on the wall.
He knocked a few times under the plastic golden numbers, his eyes searching around until he heard the locks click. The door flew open and Maggie popped her head out, her makeup a few shades darker than last time.
“Hey,” Tom mumbled.
“Hey… you brought it?” She asked quickly, opening the door more.
Tom couldn’t help looking past her, seeing if Summer was in there.
“Yeah. Here.” Tom huffed, handing her the sweater, “And I brought some other stuff she might want.” He gave her the duffle too, weighing down in her hand when he passed it.
“Jesus, what’s in this? She’s not going off to college.”
“A few books, shirts, socks, a few Mad Libs.” He said what was off the top of his head, shoving his hands in his front pockets.
“Well thanks, it should keep her busy.” Maggie quickly grinned, but before she could shut the door, Tom took a step forward.
“Can I see her? Just for a few minutes before I go to work.” Tom asked, even though he didn’t feel the need to.
She sighed, “I really have to go, Tom.”
Before Tom could say another word, Summer shouted from behind Maggie, “Daddy!”
Summer pushed past Maggie, holding out her arms and Tom immediately wrapped his around her. He spun her around with her feet off the ground. He could cry as he held her tighter, kissing the top of her hair and she giggled, “I missed you!”
He put her back on her feet, “I missed you too, kid. How’s the cast?” Tom smiled.
She lifted it up, “Good, I got more names on it.”
“Oh, yeah? Aren’t you miss popular.” Tom chuckled, watching her rotate the cast.
“Are we going home?” Summer quickly asked.
Tom sealed his lips, “Ah, not… yet.”
Summer’s face shifted, “But, I wanna go home.”
“Not yet, baby.” Tom knew it wasn’t in his control right now.
“But, I wanna go home now…” She protested, a dimple between her furrowed eyebrows.
It was the first time he heard true sorrow in her light voice. A kid always had their emotional fits, but Tom taught her that it was okay to talk to her and didn’t have to hold anything back. There was never a moment of questioning her temper tantrums or how she behaved, but he couldn’t wrap his head around this whole incident. He didn’t know how to answer her questions and help her and it was killing him to feel like he was doing nothing yet also trying to do everything he could.
“Summer, I promise you’ll be home soon, okay?” He promised, running his hand over her soft hair.
“Okay.” She pouted.
Quickly turning away, Summer fled back into the apartment and didn’t give Tom another look. He chewed the inside of his cheek and Maggie put her hand on your hip, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, thanks.” She huffed.
“When can I see her again?” Tom asked, embarrassed from how desperate he came off.
She nodded, “I don’t know...”
Tom clenched his jaw, “I raised her, I don’t understand how you can come back and just take her away like you suddenly want to be a great mother. Do you want something else from me other than child support? Huh? What is it, Maggie?” He asked, frustrated and tired of biting his tongue.
Maggie looked over her shoulder at Summer, meeting her blatant glare, so Maggie stepped into the hall to have some privacy. Tom took a few steps away from her, putting his back against the wall while she stood on her side.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Tom. I really don’t-”
“Then why are you doing this?” He cut her off.
She nodded, “I’m uncomfortable with it all.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not Summer’s dad!” Maggie stated, “Okay? Do you know how confusing that is gonna be to her? That the guy who has raised her for six years isn’t even her dad!”
Tom was in disbelief, his throat dry and thinking as if he got the wind out of him.
“I want to take a DNA test.”
Maggie couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re not her dad.”
“I don’t care, I’m taking a test. If I’m the father, she gets to stay with me.”
“Well, she’s not so, good luck with that plan.” She boldly told Tom, watching him walk away from the conversation.
Adrenaline fueled him, leaving the building with the last dignity he felt like he had. The doubt rapidly sunk in from Maggie’s words and for the first time, Tom started to believe that she was right. He may have wasted six years of his life, not knowing how he could have fallen for it all.
After slamming the car door, Tom huffed and wiped his hands down his face. He was annoyed at the stress he held back, thinking he had his emotions under control when everything was falling apart. A million voices spoke throughout his conscience all at once and tried to guide him, too overwhelming to maintain his cool he had kept for so long. Tom clenched his fist and quickly jabbed the steering wheel, pain coursing from his blistered knuckles.
The night shift was a wreck and Tom couldn’t gain his confidence back. He messed up drink orders that infuriated his tipsy customers, dropped a glass from how shaky his hands were, and overall couldn’t clear his mind from his argument earlier with Maggie. Nevertheless, Tom pushed through the sloppy job he did but had to flee to the back to get some air from the inebriated crowd.
With a bottle of beer in one hand, he slipped away when one of his co-workers came in. Tom exited to the back alley, the cold breeze hitting his face and the wind slapping his back when the door closed behind him. As he brought the bottle to his lips, Tom took breaths through his nose as he downed the bitter ale. His eyes burned from the icy carbonation, pulling it away after drinking most of it. He tossed the glass bottle into the dumpster across from him, running his hands through his hair as he paced around the dead end.
“Shit!” He growled, his voice echoing.
A few tears trailed down his cheek and he quickly wiped them with the back of his hand. Tom got himself together, but before he went back inside to end his shift, his phone vibrated in his front pocket. He was relieved to see your name headlining a picture of the two of you.
“Hey, babe.” Tom sniffled.
You were taken back by the pet name, “Babe?”
He smiled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m tired.” He pinched his nose bridge.
“No, no, I wasn’t sure if we were using “babe” or any other grossly cute nicknames.” You jeered, your sweet giggle comforting him.
“It’s just been a weird day.” He pressed his back against the brick wall.
“Things didn’t go well with Maggie?” You sighed, laying down on the couch.
Tom nodded, “Not exactly. But, I’m trying to figure it out.”
Your lips went to the side, not surprised Tom said it because he always liked to tackle everything by himself. There was no need to meddle, but you knew he would come around when he wanted to.
“Hey, I know it’s hard now, but… You’re gonna get her back.” You started, hoping it sounded comforting.
Tom remembered when you said he’d never lose her. He already doubted himself, but he didn’t want to have a lack of uncertainty with you, a person he trusted more than anyone.
“Tom?” You asked, only hearing the noises of passing cars in the background.
“Yeah, babe, I’m here.” Tom shook his head, running his hand down his face.
His voice cracked from the brokenness, causing your heart to flutter. You wanted to fix this all, and you would if you could, but it was equally as frustrating for you to keep your calm. You knew that if you exploded with rage and anger, Tom would follow the same path of destruction and it’s the last thing you both needed to do.
“Okay… are you coming back soon?”
“Yeah, I’m almost off my shift. I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
“Drive safe, please.” You tilted your head, pulling your legs to your chest.
“Always.” He smiled before hanging up.
Tom went back inside to finish his shift, hoping to get a few tips from his charm. He snuck a few shots of Crown and gin in between his orders, looking around to make sure none of his co-workers saw. It was out of his character to drink on the job knowing it could get him fired on the spot, but Tom didn’t care. He wanted the pain inside to numb away with warm liquor until he was sick.
Making the poor decision of driving home, Tom took his time to get back. He rubbed his eyes a few times from the haze fogging his vision, but he slowly pulled into his usual parking spot. At first, he forgot to put on the parking gear, the car rolling forward before he stepped on the brake. A drunk chuckle left his lips as he parked, pulling the keys out and he leaned on the car to maintain his balance.
You fell asleep on the couch waiting for him only to flinch from the door slamming. As you put your weight on your arms, Tom walked in with a sway to his walk.
“Hey, I was starting to worry.” You groaned, stretching as you stood up from the couch.
“Sorry, I was… trying to get home and there was… it was fine.” He slurred, a faint smile on his face.
You furrowed your eyebrows, walking up to him and instantly smelling the alcohol on his breath.
“You drove home drunk?”
“I’m here in one piece, aren’t I?” He breezed past you, kicking his shoes off by the kitchen island then heading to the bedroom.
“You could have gotten killed.” You hissed.
You crossed your arms as you followed him, standing in the door frame. Tom struggled to unbutton his shirt, not able to grip them with his hazy vision. 
“I’m here, okay? I’m fine and I just need to sleep.” Tom groaned, the alcohol fueling his irritation.
You didn’t want to pick a fight, not this late and not with everything else going on, so you digressed and decided to leave it till the morning.
As he lazily pulled apart his button-up, he threw it to the side and left him in his basic white tee. You walked around to the shared bathroom and cupped some lukewarm water in your hands to splash on your face. You could hear Tom unbuckle his pants and he threw them to the floor, missing the hamper by a long shot.
You walked to your side of the bed, glancing at him laying down with his bloodshot eyes still open.
“Tom, you can’t do this.”
“I know. I know, but this… I fucking can’t think about anything else.” He admitted.
You sat up on the bed with your head against your pillow, pulling the duvet over your legs. You ran your hand over his messy, brown curls, weaving your fingers through it and pushing it back. His eyes met yours as you continued to play with his hair.
“From how long we’ve been friends, I know you have always put the weight of the world on your shoulders.” You spoke calmly, your tone soft and sweet like honey, “But, you can’t keep doing this to yourself...”
He gulped, not knowing how to let go of this anger he internalized.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” His voice was broken.
“You need to take your time, baby.” You whispered, running your hand through his hair again.
Tom gently held your hand that was resting on your stomach, brought it to his face, and kissed the top of it a few times. You grinned, watching him bring your intertwined hands to his chest. He kept his eye contact with you, his free hand tucking your hair behind your ear.
“I don’t know how I’d stay sane without you.” He revealed, his eyes glossy.
You half-smiled, “You’d function, just not as properly.” You jeered, trying to make him laugh.
“Oh, always with the jokes.” Tom chuckled, tickling up your side and you began to kick around, letting out infectious belly laughs.
“I can’t help it! You’re fun to mess with.” You beamed.
You shifted down to be face to face with him, lying next to him and forgetting about the world for a few minutes. Tom was never big on affection with who we dated, struggling to open himself up with people he felt were temporary. Little did you know that he was wrapped around your finger since the day you fell off the jungle gym.
“I just want you to be happy.” You sighed.
He nodded, “I am happy. I promise.”
You brushed your nose against his, your head angled from the side. Tom’s light buzz lingered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer to him under the warm, cotton sheets. Your head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and running your hand down his abdomen. As you brought his hand toward you, but you furrowed your eyebrows at the light red and purple bruising across his knuckles.
“What’s this from?” You asked, grazing your finger over his skin.
Tom raised his eyebrows, “Uh, I don’t know.” He lied.
You pouted, “You should ice it tomorrow. It looks kind of bad.”
“Yeah…” Tom trailed, biting the inside of his cheek.
You pressed light kisses against the bruises, “Gotta be more careful, babe.”
His brown eyes brightened, a small smile on his lips before he scattered some kisses against your temple, your cheek pressing against his shoulder.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
When you two went to the clinic to get the DNA test, Tom couldn’t sit still the whole time. From the waiting room until he sat on top of the doctor’s table, he pulled at his fingers or tapped his leg which made you place your hands on him to get him to stop. You gave him words of encouragement, trying to support him through the lengthy process, especially when he saw the needle thread into his dark blue veins.
“I thought it was just gonna be a cheek swab.” He chuckled, discomfort in his chuckle.
“Some places do that, but a blood test is more accurate.” The nurse tried to calm him, her tone soft.
“How accurate?” He hissed at the sudden pinch.
Her lips went to the side, “Above ninety percent.”
His head was turned to the cabinets, fixating on the bold font of one of the flyers. You sat in the black, plastic chair next to the counter, your legs crossed and peering up at Tom. His face scrunched together for a split second, visibly seeing that he still hated needles after all these years.
“What?” He asked.
You nodded, “Nothing. You’re just making a cute face.” You jeered, placing your hand on your cheek with your elbow on the arm of the chair.
“Just reminds me of high school blood drives… Nurse Jenna always poking my vein a thousand times.” He huffed.
“It’s because you squirmed so much, like you are now.” You teased.
He rolled his eyes with a faint smile, looking down at his feet before the nurse pulled the needle away and covered it with a ball of cotton. Tom held it there for a few seconds until she slowly wrapped the light blue bandage the perfect tightness around his arm.
“You should get the results back in four to five days. We’ll let you know right away, Mr. Holland.”
“Thank you so much.” Tom grinned at her.
After the nurse walked out with the blood sample and her file, you stood up, slinging your purse strap on your shoulder. Tom stepped down from the table, pulling down his flannel sleeve to cover the bandage.
“You were so brave. Are you upset she didn’t give you a lollipop?” You joked.
“Don’t worry too much, but I think I’ll live.” He jeered back, leaning in to kiss your forehead.
You wrapped your arm around his back, giving him a light hug before you two left to check out then headed back to his apartment. On the ride home, Tom was fairly quiet with the low music from the speakers filling the car. There wasn’t anything you needed to say, but being there for each other was enough comfort. With the windows rolled down halfway, the fresh air weaved through your hair and your fingers were loosely wrapped around the top of the steering wheel.
Tom looked out the window, watching the scenes you passed by, but his head was in a different place. His elbow rested against the armrest of the door, unconsciously biting his nail and shaking his leg. You cautiously put your hand on top of his, the one settled on his leg, intertwining your fingers together without looking at him.
It was still hard getting used to the quietness, not only from you but within Tom’s life.
Tom missed Summer being at the apartment, looking forward to putting up the crayon drawings she worked on at breakfast or insisting they go to the park on weekends. But, since she hadn’t been around, it gave more time for you and Tom to be alone, at least back to how you were six years ago. For the most part, it was nice to dance in the middle of the living room, spinning each other around and sharing takeout at the coffee table while watching a tooth-rotting, romance movie. Just making it more obvious that Summer changed his life, even in the smallest things she did.
The growth of your relationship was important, but most of it was centered around Summer. It didn’t mean you couldn’t both carry a conversation without her, just that most of the things you did together were for her. Endless trips to the park, going to the zoo, taking her to girl scouts, or even running around the house playing hide and seek if it was a rainy day. Her giggles filled the apartment, endless amounts of laughter from the three of you and the memories you created. It was the one thing that motivated Tom to fight for her, just to make more and more memories and have her back in his arms for good. 
As the grueling days passed, it was closer to Halloween night and Tom was trying to get as many shifts as he could. Not only was it one of their busiest times, but he also got generous tips. Because the holiday was during a school day, Tom’s apartment held an event for some kids to come by and trick-or-treat early.
It would be Tom’s first holiday without Summer there, but the results would come any time now. It’s all that consumed his mind, on top of him working on her Halloween costume without her. She insisted she wanted to be Wonder Woman and you and Tom never used store-bought costumes, not even when she was a baby and you made a pumpkin costume out of orange felts and stitching.
“Hey! You’re gonna be late for work.” You said, running your hands through Tom’s curls when you passed by him sitting at the table.
Tom snapped out of his trance, shaking his head and rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands. Today marked the day Tom should have gotten his DNA test back, checking his phone and email since he woke up before dawn.
“Are you staying late? I know Halloween week is probably like the jackpot for you guys.” You grinned, grabbing a mixed bag of candy from on top of the fridge and a bowl from the cabinet.
“Yeah, if you thought the tips from single moms paid up, wait until you get an open tab from a fratboy.” Tom chuckled as he got up, stretching his back and he brushed down his wrinkled, navy button-down.
“Well, I’m sure they’re just flirting with you too. You’re so damn charming with those brown eyes and smile.” You winked at him, shifting the big bowl of sweets with both your hands.
He walked behind you, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, “Hmm, well there’s enough of me to go around.” Tom jeered.
Tom checked his phone once again, scrolling through his email and call history, seeing him looking down at it from the corner of your eye.
“Hey, babe, you need to get going.” You reminded him, placing the bowl of candy on the small table next to the door. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, dear.” Tom faintly smiled, nudging his head against yours before you untangled from him.
He shoved his phone in his back pocket, grabbing his denim jacket off the back of the kitchen chair. Tom told you he’d call you on his way home and to have fun, but felt some relief from not being around the kids. He’d barely spoken to Maggie since their argument last week, only getting updates on Summer and her behavior. Tom never knew someone could find the one nerve that could be pinched in any instance, making him incredibly annoyed with whatever he was doing.
The bar was getting packed as Tom walked past the crowd in the front, everyone mingling at the high-rise tables in their various costumes. There was a discount if you wore a costume, usually helping business with more drinks for lower prices, but that meant the night would feel longer with an endless amount of orders piling on top of each other with little patience from a drunken mob.
Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, Tom made sure their inventory was stocked as he breezed by his co-workers. He wasn’t close enough to them to tell anyone want he was dealing with, but he figured it was better not to talk about it so it never came up during a shift.
Multicolored lights flashed and beamed through the moving mass of people, but enough of the warm light above the bar helped guide Tom when he was scrambling to attend to whoever he could. It took his mind off his stress, too worried about not getting drinks right when it was easy to with how hectic it was. Drink after drink, he collected a bill and shoved it in the shared tip jar behind them, hoping they made enough so everyone could walk with sore feet, but be satisfied with their hard work.
As the night grew longer, it became rowdier and it meant that it was harder to get people out so new ones could come in. While Tom talked to one of his regulars down at one side, an argument between two strangers began to ensue toward the middle. Tom looked over his shoulder while leaning on the bar, glaring at the two boys whose voices howled over the music.
“I think you should get the fuck out of my face!” One yelled, he had dirty blonde hair and a scratch by his lip.
“Chill out, what the fuck!” The other retorted and his piercing blue eyes were bright enough for Tom to see from where he stood.
“Hey, give me one second.” Tom told the man he was talking to, quickly pacing over toward the angry exchange, “Hey, knock it off.” He said with an assertive, deep tone.
They ignored Tom, continuing to argue before one threw a punch deep into the other’s face. It knocked the man on the floor, making Tom jump over the bar to try to break up the fight. While he defended himself from the guy who punched first, the other drunken man pulled Tom down by the shoulders. In his inebriated fury, he jabbed Tom in the stomach, hurting his rib which made Tom hold on his hands there.
“Hey man, get off me!” Tom gritted his teeth, grabbing the guy’s wrist to push him back down to the floor.
Even though Tom was strong enough to do so, the other nameless man tried to help Tom, but Tom was soon met with a punch to the eye, near the nose bridge. The guy was twice as large as him, able to put his weight on Tom as he threw constant punches to his face and jaw. Tom’s eyes teared up, mixing with the blood from his nose before the guy was pulled off him.
Tom quickly got on his feet, holding on to the bar, but he was met with more arguing between the two strangers he never should have intervened between, to begin with. He rubbed the back of his head, hoping he didn’t have a concussion with the throbbing under his skin. Before Tom could recover from what happened, the guy approached him again, stumbling until Tom threw a punch back.
He didn’t know what came over him, but the stress of everything instantly came out with his rush of adrenaline. More people from the crowd tried to step in, even one of Tom’s co-workers, but it ended with two police officers settling both of them. Tom tasted the blood on his lips, spitting it on the dirty floor as his heads were pulled behind his back.
“Calm down!�� The officer pleaded with Tom, taking him outside of the bar.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The sounds of office phones ringing and the news playing lowly were all you could concentrate on. The police station was the last place you thought of being at a time like this, your heart racing since you picked up the phone and told what had happened with Tom. You bounced your leg, the other crossed on top of it and moving your ankle to find anything to make time go faster.
“Y/N L/N.”
You whipped your head, pushing off the chair to get up and speed walk to the front.
“Y-Yes, that’s me.” You said, putting your hands on top of the desk.
“He’s being released now.” The officer spoke with a monotone voice.
You nodded, stepping away from the desk before a short buzz echoed the hall. Tom slowly walked up, his hands behind his back before the officer escorting him released the handcuffs.
“Keep your head up, kid.” The tall officer told him before walking back to the cells.
Tom rubbed his reddened wrists, his face and body in pain from the beating he went through. When you saw his face, you almost couldn’t believe it was him. Red and purple bruises faded on his light skin near his right eye and trailing his sharp jaw. His nose bridge looked displaced and dry blood under his nose, the rest on the collar of his dark shirt. You almost couldn’t stare because of the bright redness surrounding his right eye from popping a vessel. 
“Babe…” You choked, gently holding his face.
“I’m okay. I promise.” Tom gulped, his hands settling on your hips, “Let’s just go home.” He croaked.
“Not before we go to the emergency room. Your eye looks awful.” You say, gently moving his head to take a better look at it.
He nodded, “I just wanna go home, please.”
“No, we can’t, you’re hurt--”
“Y/N, I wanna go home.” He snapped.
You clenched your jaw at his stubbornness, “Fine.”
Once you were back to the apartment, the first thing Tom wanted to do was take a shower. He sat on top of the toilet seat, unbuttoning his button-down, but winced at the soreness in his arms when trying to take his not-so-white, t-shirt off. As he continued to try to get his arms higher, Tom couldn’t push himself to do it. He leaned over in frustration, a grunt passing his lips before you walked into the door frame.
“Let me help you.” You softly said, taking a few steps toward him.
Tom didn’t have the energy to fight back so, he leaned back to sitting up straight and lifted his arms as high as he couldn’t which wasn’t much. You grabbed the ends of his t-shirt, peeling it off him and tossing it in the hamper behind you.
You kneeled in front of him, “You got it?”
“Yeah, thanks, baby.” He grunted, holding in his pain.
You nodded, placing your hands on his face and caressing your thumb over his cut cheek. A tear trailed from your waterline, hurt to see him in the state he was. He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, giving a light kiss. You ran your hand through the nape of his curls before getting back up and putting your hand on the doorknob.
“Just yell if you need me.”
He just nodded in response, wincing as he stood up and you closed the door.
You let out a deep sigh as you walked back to the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had forgotten to wash from yesterday. It was something to do while Tom was showering, not wanting to think that this wouldn’t have happened if Maggie didn’t come back into his life.
Tom’s phone buzzed on the counter, making you glance at it. The cracked screen lit up but there were a few bloody fingerprints covered on the glass. You picked it up and wet a rag, wiping off any of the dirt and blood from it but you saw an email that was sent to him a few hours ago. You didn’t want to put your nose into his business, but it could have been from the clinic.
Your thumb hesitantly pressed his code in, opening his email account, but you saw it was just a letter from a subscription. Your lips went to the side, feeling bad for snooping until your read an email that he had opened earlier. The timestamp was during his shift, not knowing if he saw it before or after, but your heart fell when you read the document.
“Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged father is excluded as the biological father. This result is consistent with the statement that the alleged father (Thomas Holland) is not the biological father of the child.”
tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @strawberrytom @itstaskeen @tomhollandsgirlfriend @bi-writes @infinite-imagination​ @honeyspidey​ @hollandcrush​ @sunsetholland​ @pparkersbitch​ @namoreno​ @calltothewild​ @spideyspeaches​ @veryholland​ @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @slutforsebstan​ @bi-lmg​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @annathesillyfriend​ @madmadmilk​ @antigoneidk​ @hollandcreep​ @wierdflowerpower​  
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eliemo · 4 years
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Permafrost: Chapter 2
Summary: After Virgil agrees to follow Roman into the Imagination, a shift in the weather and an unfortunate misstep sends Virgil plummeting into uncharted waters. If only it didn’t take a matter of life or death and a race against time to realize the Prince might not hate him after all.
TW: Drowning, effects of severe cold, steps of CPR 
Notes: Romantic Prinxiety (pre relationship) I tried to make the effects in this chapter as realistic as possible but if some things are inaccurate no they aren’t
Permafrost taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck @snowyfires @the-sympathetic-villain @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @itsjust-la-me @ray-does-stuff @brokaw22 @johnlaurensintheplacetobe @teamplutoforlife @myrandomfandoms12 @riverdoesbadart
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Roman knew his role, and he played it well. He was the hero, charging into battle and adventures without a second thought, smiling in the face of bloodthirsty beasts with his sword at his side. Princes weren’t cowards. 
But when Virgil lost his grip and went under, Roman had never been so scared in his entire life. 
“Virgil!” 
He’d been so close, finally dropping to his knees on the unsteady ice and desperately reaching out, fingers just brushing freezing cold skin when the current took advantage of Virgil’s rapidly waning strength and pulled him under. 
Roman’s own scream, hollow and empty and terrified, echoed right back at him, thrown in his face to remind him that he’d been too slow- 
He pushed his own thoughts aside (he could blame himself later. God why hadn’t he been faster?) and plunged his arm into the water until he was shoulder deep, hissing against the sudden sting of the cold. 
But Roman didn’t have the place to complain, not when Virgil had just been completely submerged right in front of him. 
It had all happened so fast, Roman reaching into the violent river less than a second after Virgil disappeared, so maybe- maybe there was still enough time. Please please please let him be fast enough-
His fingers found something soft and solid, just barely managing to grab onto what he was almost positive was Virgil’s hoodie (please please let it be Virgil’s hoodie) before it was swept away completely. 
He was almost yanked into the water himself by the force of the current, the river fighting relentlessly to pry Virgil away, and Roman felt a sudden rush of irrational anger. 
He wasn’t sure where it came from, something defiant and protective that wrapped around his chest- something that went deeper than his desire to be someone’s hero. Because he was Creativity, and this was his realm. It didn’t get to take anything from him. 
It didn’t get to take Virgil. 
Roman reared back, mind almost blank as he fought against the water and pulled Virgil back towards the surface, heart skipping a beat when he finally caught a glimpse of purple hair floating in the freezing water. 
He hadn’t lost him. He was ok, he would be ok, Roman would make sure of it. Virgil was not going to die because Roman had been a little too eager to spend time with the recently accepted side. 
He moved closer to the edge, forcing himself to ignore the way the already unstable ice creaked dangerously, letting out a sky breath when he was able to get two hands hooked under Virgil's shoulders.
It was only then, pulling against the weight of the water trying to drag them both down, that he realized Virgil wasn’t fighting back. He was perfectly still, no more kicking or struggling as the current kept him under. 
No. No no no. He wasn’t too late. He wasn’t too late. Virgil would be fine. 
Roman honestly wasn’t sure how he managed to gain the upper hand in his fight with the current. It was strength he doubted he could have harnessed under any other circumstance, a sudden rush of adrenaline he imagined Thomas got from Virgil sometimes right before rushing on stage and pouring his heart out in front of an audience. 
Maybe it was the last of Virgil’s strength bleeding into Roman’s determination, a last desperate attempt to help save his own life. The two of them had always been a good team, even if they hadn’t realized it sooner. 
Virgil finally broke the surface, Romans’s arms wrapped firmly around his chest as he dragged him onto the ice, terrified he would lose his grip and let Virgil slip through his hands when they were so close to being safe. 
There was no gasp for air, no coughing or sputtering as he choked and spat out water. Virgil was out of the river, but he was still unmoving and silent, lips and fingertips tinged an alarming shade of blue. 
But that was ok. It was ok! (It wasn’t ok- it was the farthest thing from ok.) The ice creaked again, shifting a bit under the added weight, and Roman forced himself to move before he got them both killed. 
“You’re ok,” Roman said, despite Virgil remaining limp and unresponsive as he carefully scooped the anxious side up off the ground. He had to do something to fill the suffocating silence. “You’re ok, you’re fine. I’ve got you. You’re ok.” 
The ice was definitely unsteady as Roman brought them back to the surrounding snow, but it thankfully didn’t crack or give way any further. Apparently Virgil had managed to find the most unstable chunk in what could easily be the deepest part of the lake.
And Roman had kept walking. Roman had teased and waved off his panic. And then when he realized what had happened, when he’d heard the genuine terror in Virgil’s voice, it had already been too late. He’d been too far away.
But Virgil was in his arms now. Virgil was...he was limp against Roman’s chest, river water leaking from his mouth, and he wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t breathing. 
He pushed down his panic, even as his head spun and his hands shook from more than just the cold, carefully setting Virgil down in the snow against the nearest tree trunk, the bare twisted branches offering a bit of shelter from the snowfall. 
Virgil was horribly pale, even more than usual, and Roman hated how he blended in with the ground, everything a startling shade of white save for the heavy tint of blue his lips had gained. 
Roman reached forward with shaking hands, holding his breath as he pressed two fingers against the ice cold skin below Virgil’s jaw, searching frantically for a pulse while his eyes welled up with tears. 
There was nothing there. There was nothing, Virgil didn’t have a pulse, and Roman wanted to sob. “Hang on,” he whispered to no one, because he wasn’t sure what to say when his friend looked like a corpse. “Just hang on, Virge.” 
Before he could stare too long and spiral into worry, because Virgil’s face should never look so lifeless, Roman squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to try and recall what Logan taught them to do in a situation like this. 
It had been years ago, and Roman had decided the lesson was boring, unnecessary, and not worth his attention. And of course, now it was a matter of life and death, and he was struggling to remember a word Logan had said. 
It had been Virgil’s idea for Logan to teach them all how to perform CPR. “You never know what could happen. It’s just better to be prepared.” He’d insisted.
Back then, Roman had chalked it up to Anxiety just trying to ruin their fun and keep everyone paranoid for his own twisted amusement. He really made himself sick sometimes. 
 If Virgil was awake right now, he would be rolling his eyes and teasing him for being such a stubborn idiot. Virgil had always just been trying to help. To keep them all safe. And Roman had always responded with suspicion and hostility. 
But he wasn’t awake, and if Roman didn’t remember this stupid lecture Logan had given, he might never wake up again. 
Roman racked his brain as hard as he could, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to picture Logan’s voice. After pulling someone from the water you have to…you have to move them…on their back! 
Roman rushed to move Virgil so he was laying down, working quickly yet handling the anxious side as if he were made of glass. He slowly and carefully placed him flat on his back, making sure he didn’t hit his head on the ground. 
Ok, first step finished. Roman closed his eyes again as he reached into his memory for what to do next. He had to put his hands- no, his palms- on Virgil’s stomach. His stomach? No, it was...it was...his chest? His chest! 
Roman wished more than anything Virgil was over his shoulder, gently poking fun at the Prince’s scrambled thoughts. 
But he wasn’t, and Roman unzipped the soaking wet hoodie to place his hands on Virgil’s chest, one hand crossed over the other, mirroring the way he remembered Logan had positioned his own hands on the practice dummy he’d made Roman conjure.
Now, all he had to do was push down to the beat of ‘Stayin’ Alive’, just like The Office taught him, and then move to tilt Virgil’s head back, pinch his nose closed, and breathe for him until the anxious side’s chest could rise on its own. 
Roman wasted no time starting the motions. He hummed the tune under his breath to keep the rhythm, quickly deciding that once this was over he would never be able to hear that song again. 
But that didn’t matter right now. Right now he just needed Virgil to breathe. 
But...but he wasn’t. Roman lost track of how many times he pressed down on Virgil’s chest, how many times he repeated that song over and over in his head, the compressions getting a little bit more desperate every time.
 He lost count of how many times he leaned over his friend to send a breath rattling down his throat, trembling and lightheaded as he touched Virgil’s frigid skin, only able to silently hope his lungs would get the message and bring him back. 
“Come on, Virgil,” he found himself pleading, vision obscured by gathering tears. “Come on, wake up! You can do it, I know you can do it. Just come back, ok? You’re gonna be ok, just breathe! Please, Virgil please. We...I can’t lose you! You have to wake up!” 
Was he doing something wrong? Had he just been too late? Too slow? Too stupid? If it was anyone else, Vigil would have already been awake by now, conscious and breathing. 
...If it were anyone else, Virgil wouldn’t have fallen in the lake at all. Virgil wouldn’t even be here. He’d be warm and safe in someone else’s arms and Roman wouldn’t be kneeling in the snow, begging him to open his eyes.
He needed Virgil to wake up. He needed him. It had taken him so long to see it, pushing it down and covering it up with insults and nicknames and denial, but now...now Roman didn’t think he could handle losing Virgil. 
He couldn’t lose Virgil’s voice, his smile, the way the whole world seemed brighter when Roman got the anxious side to laugh. Virgil was kind and sharp and funny, and he cared so much. He was...he was perfect, and Roman--
Virgil suddenly jolted under his hands, making a horrible sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a cough, eyes flying open in panic as he fought and struggled for air he couldn’t get. 
Roman’s cry of relief came out as something closer to a sob, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, scrambling off of Virgil and not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.
 Prince thankfully had the sense to turn Virgil on his side to keep him from choking, wincing at the string of wet coughs and hacking coming from the soaked figure in the snow. 
It sounded horrible, Virgil’s breaths coming in strangled wheezes as he coughed and spewed up what looked like half the river, but right now it was the most beautiful noise Roman had ever heard. 
He couldn’t imagine how much pain the other side was in right now, every breath an agonized and confused fight for air, but it at least meant Virgil was alive. 
“You’re ok,” Roman said, voice still unsteady and raw from crying. “Hey, you’re ok, you’re alright. Just let it out, you’re doing great.” 
Virgil was obviously too busy throwing up water to respond, and Roman suddenly had no idea what he was supposed to do. 
“I’m here,” he offered, tentatively scooting closer, terrified he would just make everything worse. “You’re ok, Virgil. It’s ok.” 
He carefully placed a hand on Virgil’s back, rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades. The hoodie was just as soaked as the rest of him, heavy and cold and probably clinging to his skin. It was impossible not to notice how hard Virgil was shaking, teeth chattering so much Roman could hear it over the wind. 
Gosh, Virgil must be freezing. 
“R- Ro...R-Roman.” He coughed again, and Roman wrapped an arm around him to keep Virgil from falling flat on his face. “R-Roman--”
“Shh, I’ve got you.” He pulled Virgil back to lean against his chest, frowning at how the hoodie still dripped with icy water. “I’m gonna help you, ok? We’re gonna get you warmed up.” 
Roman moved to take the lapels of the hoodie, gently trying to slide it off the shivering side, tearing up again when Virgil made a noise of protest, scared and small. He tried to cling onto the garment, but his hands were too unsteady to get a good grip. 
“I know,” Roman said. “But the hoodie’s soaked, Virge. It’s just making things worse, I need to get it off.” 
Either Virgil understood and stopped fighting, or he didn’t have the strength to struggle anymore, but he dropped his arms and leaned even more into the Prince’s side. He just hoped Virgil recognized Roman was trying to help. 
The hoodie wasn’t easy to get off, the cloth clinging to Virgil’s bare arms, the anxious side whimpering when the wind hit his skin. “P-please, please d-don’t...Roman--” 
“I know.” God, Virgil was barely able to get his words out through his own chattering teeth. “I know it’s cold, but just hang in there. Please.” 
Roman wasted no time once the hoodie was off. He quickly laid it out beside them on the snow, hoping the wind would at least do something to dry it off, and repositioned himself slightly, one hand still wrapped carefully around Virgil’s chest. 
He detached his red sash first, tossing it carelessly into the snow and vowing not to leave it, or the hoodie, behind. It took a few seconds, Virgil still leaned heavily up against him, but Roman managed to shrug off his white jacket, shuddering when that left him in just a black t-shirt. 
It was freezing, the ruthless wind like a flurry of knives against his skin, but Roman forced himself to grit his teeth and ignore it. If he was cold, he couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be soaking wet. 
And Virgil was probably aching and bruised from the compressions…
“Here,” Roman said, heart dropping at the fear and confusion in Virgil’s cloudy eyes. “Put this on, alright? You’re gonna be ok.” 
Virgil made another quiet, indecipherable noise but didn’t protest when Roman draped the jacket over his shoulders, and the prince was able to help guide his hands through the slightly too big sleeves. 
Any other time, under any other circumstances, Roman imagined seeing the anxious side wearing the prince’s jacket would be something that would leave them both smiling like idiots, Roman left trying in vain to hide his rising blush. 
Now, it was just a desperate act to keep Virgil alive. 
Roman wrapped his arms around him and pulled Virgil close to his chest, desperate to offer as much warmth as he could, the shivering from the other side still beyond alarming. At least his lips and fingertips no longer held that terrifying shade of blue. 
He shut his eyes for a moment, dropping his forehead to rest against Virgil’s soaking wet hair, trying to figure out what on earth he was supposed to do. They needed to move, to get Virgil back home safe as soon as possible, but it was still another forty minutes or so to the Imagination door.
He never should have brought Virgil so far out, not with how unpredictable his realm could be. Roman had just...wanted an excuse to spend more time with the anxious side. 
He’d wanted Virgil to see him be the hero. For once, he’d wanted to be the hero in Virgil’s eyes, not just Thomas’s. He’d been so stupid. 
They couldn’t stay here, not while the snow continued to fall and the wind showed no sign of stopping. 
He’d carry Virgil the entire way if he had to, he knew that for sure. But the longer the storm kept up, the temperature slowly but surely dropping further, the more it was looking like he’d have to. They couldn’t afford to move slowly. 
He didn’t know what he’d been silently hoping for. Maybe for the weather to become warm again, or for Virgil to magically get better, to sit up with his skin back to its normal paleness and make a snarky comment about Roman worrying too much.
“Jeez, are you trying to steal my job, Princey?” he’d ask, smirking when Roman sputtered and blushed under the accusation. God, he’d give anything to have Virgil back to normal. 
But the sky wasn't clear, Virgil’s declining health only seemed to be getting worse, and Roman knew that the longer he waited, the worse it would only get. 
“Hey, we need to keep moving,” Roman said, hoping Virgil could understand him. “You still with me? I’m gonna pick you up, alright?” 
He felt Virgil cough again, still a broken rattling sound that sent dread clawing up Roman’s throat, and he watched the anxious side reach up to grab at the material of the jacket wrapped around him. 
“M’ here,” he said, and he was clearly trying so hard to speak clearly. “I- I can...I c-can walk.” 
“Let me help you,” Roman insisted, even as his heart swelled with pride. He wondered if Virgil recognized his own bravery. “We’ll be home soon.” 
He carefully maneuvered one of Virgil’s arms over his shoulder and counted to three under his breath before slowly lifting the anxious side off the ground. 
He froze immediately when Virgil let out a strangled gasp, broken up immediately by ragged coughs, his shivering body going tense as his free hand flew to his stomach, trying to wrap his arm around himself. 
“F-fuck,” Virgil hissed when he had his breath back, and Roman eased them both back into the snow when his knees started to buckle. “Ow, ow, ow, what...Ro-Roman--” 
“I’m here,” Roman said. “I’m right here, Virgil. What hurts?” 
“R-r-ribs, and- and I...I don’t...what’re we--?” 
“Shoot, uh...I think I did that.” Oh god, he’d hurt Virgil. He’d really messed up everything today, hadn’t he? “I had to give you CPR.” 
“You...I- I don’t- why?” 
“You fell in the river,” Roman explained, trying not to panic at Virgil’s sudden memory loss. That was normal, right? He was just a little confused, no reason to freak out yet. “Remember? I think the cold really got to you and- and I’m...I’m really sorry. God, I’m so sorry Virgil. I tried to get to you but--”
“Y-you-” Another cough, just as terrifying as all the others. “-you pulled m-me up?” 
Roman frowned, hating the bewildered confusion in Virgil’s voice. “I did. Of course I did. But you...you weren’t breathing and I couldn’t find a pulse and I...I thought you were...I thought--” 
“Well I- I’m f-fine,” Virgil rasped, dangerously pale and shivering and the farthest thing from fine. “Y-you...you really are my hero huh, P-Princey?” 
It was like something curled around Roman’s chest, squeezing at his heart so suddenly he felt a little lightheaded. Virgil’s hero. He wanted so badly to believe that. 
But he couldn’t- not when Virgil was trembling in his arms and struggling to form a single sentence. 
“I’m getting you home,” Roman vowed, holding the anxious side just a little bit tighter. “I promise you that. Just...let me carry you. Please.” 
Virgil slumped, his shaky grip growing almost desperate- despite still being painfully weak- but he nodded against Roman’s chest. “It’s...it’ s-so cold.” 
Roman didn’t know how much time had passed since he had put his own jacket on Virgil, but while it hadn’t seemed to do much to improve Virgil’s condition, the lack of protection was definitely getting to Roman.
He found he didn’t mind though, not when Virgil was awake and breathing, aware enough to talk just a little. But he knew it was only a matter of time until their luck ran out.  
Roman carefully repositioned the anxious side still curled in his arms so he could better hold him in a bridal carry, shushing him gently when Virgil made a pained sound as the Prince stood, stumbling slightly in the thick snow. 
“I know,” Roman said, barely audible over the howling wind. “Just hang in there, Stormcloud. We’ll be home before you know it. We’re so close, Virgil.”  
He started forward again, hoping Virgil wasn’t aware enough to catch on to Roman’s own rising anxiety. 
399 notes · View notes
emf005 · 3 years
Text
Disguised Part 1
Jack x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fights, angst
Hop you guys like! Sorry it took so long to get this out I have had one heck of a week.. lolol.. Please comment and let me know what you think!
Ten Years Earlier:
There were flames everywhere. As a seven year old you had no clue what was happening. It was hot, but it was winter. You couldn’t breathe. Your eyes burned and so did your lungs.
Your skin was alive with pain and stinging. You felt painfully numb. Was that even a feeling?
You coughed. And then coughed again, harder.
The room swam and you tripped over something, hitting the floor with full force. You stared at the door you had been searching for. There it was, finally. But out of reach. Why did it seem everything was always out of reach for you? Just too small to reach the top shelf, just too young to sit with the grown ups, just too female to do anything of importance…
Tears leaked from your eyes, and not just from physical pain.
The door opened and more smoke fled in. You heard footsteps running in and, with the last bit of energy you pushed yourself up. You saw the blurry edges of a familiar neighbor.
Charlie?
Then you passed out.
Xx
You woke up in a cot a few days later. Looking around the small room you realized that you were alone.
Where were you?
You heard voices and then footsteps. You shut your eyes tight again just as the door opened.
Someone sat down on your bed.
“I’s knows yous ain’t sleepin’.” Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Charles. A crutch leaned on the cot, but you didn’t pay mind. You jumped onto him, ignoring the pulling of your healing burns. You buried your head in his neck. He grabbed onto you and held you close, just as frightened as you, though he’d tell you he wasn’t. He was three years older than you and the brother you never had.
"What happened? Where am I? Where's mum and dad?" You asked. The questions pouring out of you. The last you saw them, they had been unconscious in the living room.
Instead of answering he just hugged you to his chest tighter…
Present day:
"Strike!" The Newsies, your unofficial brothers, screamed in response to Jack's very lengthy and moving monologue.
He leapt off the stage and started talking to Charles… Well, Crutchie now. He hadn't gone by that name since the fire happened and you two became newsies.
Nobody knew you were a girl and you preferred to keep it that way… although, A bit of extra attention from a certain Jack Kelly wouldn't be so bad. But beggars can't be choosers.
You watched as Katherin Plummer walked up to him and you felt your stomach drop. Rich, pretty, and successful. How could you beat that? Especially when he didn’t know you were a girl and he didn’t know your feelings.You sighed and walked to meet up with them, tasseling Race’s hair as you walked by him. He shoved you and you laughed.
“Hey!” You leaned on Crutchie’s shoulder as you joined the group. “Beautiful speech, Jacky-boy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’s think you’s gotta future as a politician.”
“Oh hardy hardy har, Scabs.”
Scabs.
Your name.
It was pretty appropriate for a few reasons. When you and Crutchie first joined you had healing burn marks and cuts all over your body. All of them scabbing. You also always had some sort of cut on you. That you were picking at, hence all your scars. Being a newsie, especially one with a big secret, caused a lot of anxiety, you couldn’t help it.
You smirked at him and shook your head.
“So, wheres we go from here?”
“That's a question for Davey.”
“Well, where is-” before you could get your statement out, chaos broke out. You turned around to see the Delancies break into the theatre with cops on their heels. You swore, and Jack pulled Katherine to get her out of the way. She willingly applied.
Delicate little-
You didn’t get to finish your thought before you had started shoving the cops and Delancies, entering the brawl with full force.
You watched as all the boys started to get their asses kicked and then get out of the theatre. You and Jack somehow ended up side by side, fighting the delancies as the cops chased after the others. But then you saw him.
Snider the Spider stared Jack down, an evil grin on his face.
Not on your watch.
“Jack, get outta here!” You screamed. Jack looked at you.
“No!”
“Jack! Just do it!”
“But-”
“GO!” He was so startled that he dodged his last punch and ran up into the catwalk of Medda’s place. You fought off the Delancies and ran. Turning around only when you herald CRutchie scream for mercy.
You turn and see the delancies and Spider standing over him.
“Crutch!” You scream and run back over even faster than you had running away, barreling over sand bags and loose wires.
The Delancies and Snider watched you and left CRutchie alone coming after you instead. You watched as Crutchie crawled away.
Morris came at you with a swing. You easily dodged it and threw him into his brother who stumbled back into Snider. You laughed and turned, about to make your get away. Instead you ran straight into an officer who threw you back onto the floor. Morris and Oscar attacked, like hungry piranhas, though they at least were prettier and smelled better.
You felt pain erupt all over you until it was gone and you felt nothing, saw nothing, and for a few hours were nothing…
Xx
Jack stumbled back into the Manhattan Newsies’ terf. The boys were all hanging around, checking on each other after the brawl.
He couldn’t believe they got Crutchie.
“Damn Crip,” he mumbled, shaking his head, not knowing what to do next.
“Jack!” he looked up when Race called his name. He came running up to him. “Jack, where Scab?”
“Scab?” Jack’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t have gotten you, too. You-you had run. He saw you.
He heard the familiar Thunk Thunk of a crutch. He looked up and saw Crutchie a bit battered, but alive and here.
“Crutchie!?” The crippled boy swallowed, tears in his eyes.
“They-they got ‘er, Jack.” he rasped out. “Jack-they they got ‘er.”
He collapsed, his crutch falling out from under him. Jack caught him and Race left, letting them talk alone.
“Who’s her, Crutchie? WHo’s got her? How did you escape?” Crutchie swallowed.
“Y/N, they got, Y/N.”
“Who has her,” Jack said, a bit confused not knowing Crutchie had himself a girl.
“Snider!” He exploded, hitting Jack’s chest. “They got ‘er, Jack! They got ‘er.” He sobbed, his voice breaking.
“Ok, ok. How did he get your girl, Crutchie. Just calm down and explain it.” Crutchie stared at him for a second not understanding why he was acting like he was until he realized he used your real name.
Crutchie settled himself and took a breath.
“Jack, Y/N is Scab.” Jack stared at his friend for a moment.
“What?’ Crutches sighed and lowered himself to the ground.
“I think you need to have a seat, Jack.
Xx
You had woken up in the refuge, staring at the ceiling, a thin stream of moonlight streamed through the small barred slit in the wall that was considered a “window”. You were almost as wanted as Jack was. Only the best accommodations for the Enemy number 2, right?
You sighed and shivered as the wind blew in and froze your toes, the scratchy, old, thin blanket doing nothing to protect you.
“Y/N!” You look up to see Crutchie at the slit in the wall. You eyes widen and you spring up, running to him.
“Crutch! What are you doin’ here. Are you dumb or something?”
“I needed to make sure you were ok, kid.” You sighed. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” you put your head on the bars. “How are the boys? Everyone makes it out alright?”
“Yeah, but I have someone who wants ta see ya.”
He stepped out of the way and revealed Jack. You stared at him and knew immediately that he knew. That Crutchie had told him. You had never wanted to kill the boy who was like your brother more in your life.
“Hey, Scab, how ya doin’?”
“You told him,” you glared at Crutchie and he looked away, not being able to meet your eyes. “The hell, Crutch!” You shouted as loud as you dared. Snider was listening… always was… and you didn’t want to get the boys caught.
“Scab-er-Y/N, are you ok?” Jack asked, concern filling his expression. You looked at him, grateful for the street lights that hid your face, yet illuminated his.
“I’m fine, Jack. Did anyone else get caught?”
They shook their heads and you sighed.
“Good.” You heard footsteps coming down the hall. You looked over your shoulder and swallowed. They heard you. They had to of.”You guys should get going.”
“But-”
“Do yous wanna get caught?” he swallowed and shook his head.
“We’ll get you outta here.”
“No, Jacky-boy, I don’t think you will. Do the strike and do it good. Win.” He opened his mouth to object, but you looked at Crutchie. “Get ‘im and yourself outta here before yous get caught.” He looked down and tugged Jack’s sleeve, pulling him away from you. As they made their way down the fire escapes he caught a glimpse of you in the light and his eyes widened with horror as he took in your face. Bloodied, bruised, and puffy. They had got you good… and that was not going to fly...
77 notes · View notes
homieswithhades · 3 years
Text
why steve rogers returning to the past was wrong
disclaimer: im clearly a stucky enthusiast, but please, do not be thrown off by that. i admit, there may be undertones of bias because of that in the following, but i did my best with trying to lay out the facts and draw logical conclusions, so do please give me a chance. also, i may have accidentaly omitted some moments and some quotes may not be 100% word for word, as my memory lowkey sucks. ALSO this is NOT a peggy hate post!! i think shes a dope and underrated character and quite frankly she was done dirty. but i also definitely h8 the trope of badass woman falls for the hero.
first and foremost, every sane person knows endgame was complete and utter bullshit when dealing with steves character, so this post will be more for you to maybe show (and hopefully convince) some stubborn friend or family member. nice, concise (not) and including proof from the movies (+a few tweets and stucky undertones, if u dont fw that i respect it but bucky is an integral part to steves character regardless of how u interpret their relationship) here is why steves character development was thrown away at the end of endgame.
let us begin at looking at the cap trilogy.
in ca:tfa it should be noted that steve had no one to return to in the 40s, except bucky. i believe steves relationship with peggy was no where near as developed as it should have been to elicit him returning exclusively for her. as we are aware, steves driving force has absolutely always been bucky. bucky was there for steve after his parents died, when he was sick, and always protected him from whatever trouble he got himself into. "until the end of the line" right? steves relationship with peggy was forced and short lived, literally, we're talking a matter of months here. i need to keep emphasising the important disparity between bucky and peggy, as it is absolutely key in this whole argument. steve dropped everything and went against every order just to even attempt to save bucky. even the slightest chance of him surviving being captured was enough for steve to break into a hydra camp and free the 107th division. steve even had the chance to capture zola, one of the main villains and masterminds of the war, but again, steve prioritised bucky. when theyre trying to escape the exploding hydra camp, the exchange between steve and bucky is critical. steve says "go! get out of here!" as all he wanted was bucky escaping safely. he put bucky's life over his own (this wasnt the first time he did this, nor the last) but bucky rooted himself to the spot, and yelled back "no, not without you!". they both escaped safely as we know, and then steve gathers the howling commandos to take down the red skull. bucky then falls off the train, nd steve blames himself for his death, even visibly crying over it twice. steves morals went from "i dont wanna kill anyone. i dont like bullies, i dont care where theyre from" before buckys death, to "i wont stop until all of hydra are dead or captured" after. stuff happens and steve defeats the red skull and is now in control of the flying ship with the bombs. he connects the comms with peggy and she tries to convince him theres another way to disarm the ship. steve was so dedicated at that point he didnt even want to hear it. he didnt even attempt to do anything to ensure his survival. this alone proves, peggy was not important enough to him to return to.
next is ca:tws. The stevebucky movie. in the museum, peggy confirms that steve saved the man from the 107th division who eventually became her husband (steve was never in the 107th, just to clarify) i believe her husbands name was daniel sousa (as revealed in the marvels agents of shield show) steve then finds out peggy is alive and talks to her. she, in short, tells him she's lived her life, and it was his turn to live his in the time hes in. the "my best girl" line was unnecessary and out of place; again, steve barely knew her. again, shit goes down, and steve finds out the winter soldier is bucky and immediately drops everything, and becomes dead set on saving him. not killing, not imprisoning, but saving him. no matter the cost. "he saw me, and he didnt even know me" "hes not the kind you save, hes the kind you stop. he won't recognise you" "he will." god, steve KNEW bucky would recognise him. regardless of the brainwashing, steve managed to break through the barrier hydra fought so hard to drill into buckys mind. nothing ever broke him out of that state exept for steve. "im not gonna fight you, youre my friend." "youre my mission" "then finish it. cos im with you till the end of the line." [[good fucking lord let me break out of my essay-esque semi professional format here and just say how fucking heartbreaking those lines are. oh my god. read them, over and over until it hits you.]] steve shows us again, that he is willing to not only die for bucky, but literally die by his hand. he would let bucky kill him. he'd dropped his shield. he didnt fight back. steve always, always, ALWAYS got up and fought back. always. exept that time. the time bucky could have killed him. that scene is the essence of "im with you till the end of the line" because then, it was true. it was true because steve was okay with dying at buckys mercy. theres a difference between sacrificing yourself for the greater good (steve going into the ice), willing to die for someone (steve risking his life multiple times in attempts to save bucky) and finally, being willing to let someone kill you, because you love and trust them so much (hellicarier scene). the difference between peggy and bucky's relationship to steve is that steve may be willing to die for either, but only willing to be killed by one. not to mention, bucky pulled steve from the river. he recognised him. steve broke through 70 years of brainwashing with such impact it literally drove bucky away from hydra out of his own free will.
in between ca:tws and ca:cw its confirmed (im p sure sam says it) that him and steve looked for bucky for two. years. even off screen, bucky was steves priority.
im going to squeeze in 2 points from from age of ultron here, for chronology's sake:
steves worst nightmare, as portayed in the movie, is LITERALLY going back to the 40s and being stuck there (with peggy too??lmfao) and also the quote "family, stability, the man who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. i think another one came out." objectively confirms that steve isn't the man he used to be, and doesnt want to return to the past. aou may have sucked, but that doesn't mean the character development should be thrown away.
ca:cw. hoo boy. steve went against 117 countries and half of his closest friends and colleagues because he believed bucky was innocent of the bombing of the un conference. god, steve quite literally, did everything to defend and protect bucky. though i shall acknowledge that steve did attend peggy's funeral, however, there was no real connotations there other than the fact he was mourning her death (understabdibly so). steve then proceeds to protect bucky for 2 hours 27 mins and 41 seconds to the point where they escape together to siberia after the airport fight. "i dont know if im worth all this steve" "what you did all those years... it wasnt you. you didnt have a choice." "i know. but i did it" again, absolutely heartbreaking quotes if you read it a couple of times and truly understand the meaning of them. steve somewhat indirectly tells bucky yes, yes he is worth all of this. otherwise, he wouldn't be doing it. a quote to support that would be "for the longest time, i always did what i thought was right." (disclaimer this is not a direct quote i deadass couldnt find it to save my life, i belive steve said it at some point during civil war or tws, but the point is, bucky is the only thing that could have shaken steves morals so intensely.) and finally, the most important part of cw, the fight at the end with tony. bucky and steve constantly protected each other. steve kept fighting because he was fighting for bucky. to keep him safe from tony and the world. he got up, time and time again. "i can do this all day." the fact that he said that to tony, some people consider them the closest of friends, proves again, a million times over, bucky is more important to steve than literally anything else, INCLUDING his shield. his mantle. he dropped it and left it like it was nothing, because his priority was bucky. as always.
theres not much to discuss for infinity war other than their hug whicg was honestly just adorable.
mmmmm endgame. i will not go into how much i hate that movie because it would be a rant quintuple the length of this one. in the support group, steve dead ass fucking says "you gotta move on. you gotta move on" and that sentiment was literally forgotten at the end. my main point for endgame is this. people tend to tell me, the reason steve abandoned bucky and went back to be with peggy is because he knew that he was finally safe. :/. if you had half a braincell youd know that's not true. the steve we know, never would have left bucky for good, ESPECIALLY after the "dont do anything stupid until i get back" exchange [[god i want to beat the shit out of the r*ssos]] mostly because, bucky had fucking no one in the time he was living in!!! no family, no friends and most heartbreakingly, no one he could trust. (yes sam was there but were just seeing their friendship develop now in tfatws, all that wasnt there in endgame) and secondly, what made steve think bucky was entirely safe??? half of the worlds population just suddenly reappeared, which as we see now, there were massive consequences for that. i simply believe steve is not that stupid. steve going back was disrespectful not only to his character, but to bucky AND peggy. most importantly, the steve we've been watching since 2011 would NEVER abandon bucky, no matter how safe he thought he was (he visited him frequently in wakanda, the safest place on the planet arguably ffs) especially for such a dumbass and quite frankly, nonsensical reason as going back to be with peggy, who clearly stated to him she moved on, and so should he (which he did. idk endgame writers prolly didnt watch the previous movies :/) its not even debatable. bucky is more important to steve than peggy. even in terms of screentime.
now allow some tweets to speak for me, this one being the absolute most important one:
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ladies and gentlefolk, all of the stuff ive said can be summarised in that last line. "it would be contrary to who he is."
heres some more:
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and now finally, id like to briefly mention steve and tfatws, so beware of spoilers (writing this as of ep 4 coming out; praying it doesn't age badly)
bucky mentions steve, unprompted, fucking constantly. he clearly isnt over steve leaving, and im hoping that gets acknowledged and talked out in the show.
in conclusion, tl:dr, steve shouldn't have returned to the past and stayed there, it is contrary to who he is, as shown to us through his trilogy and other appearances in the mcu. not to mention the timeline bullshit in endgame makes zero sense in the first place.
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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years
Text
Incorrect Order Chapter 4 (Nessian AU)
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A/N: I know I haven't been able to update as fast as you'd want me to but I'll try to fix that. Your comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!
Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.
Trigger Warnings: None really
1652words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3
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The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to do something they liked. That was the only way Cassian kept from spiraling. Since sending the woman to her own house, Cassian had more than a few moments when he wanted to repeatedly slam his head against a wall. That’s why he spent most of his time sparring with Azriel. He won’t admit he was simping for that woman in his free time too. Or maybe that was always.
Now, sprawled on a couch in front of the TV, with nothing to do but stare at a blank screen, Cassian led his thoughts to the box he kept all unwanted thoughts locked in. He thought about Tomas, her ex-boyfriend. Funny, he thought. I know her ex's name but not hers.
It took him a little too long the other day to realise they didn't exchange names. Again. He once thought that maybe she was purposely not giving him her name. That maybe, for her, he was just a random stranger who happened to save her life. He snorted. Surely anyone would know the name of the person they saved or was saved by— stranger or not. He supposed he'll have to make do with pronouns for now.
After she left his home, it took every scrap of self-restraint not to beat this Tomas dude to pulp and let him rot in the same alley he had the misfortune of meeting him in. He may or may not have been the cause for some extra injuries. Cassian appreciated the woman’s attempt at mercy. He, however, didn’t trust Tomas at all. He was dubious about just handing him over to the police. Who’s to know he won’t frame him and the woman for absurd things? Anyway, he left a note in Tomas’s house saying something like “Step out of line, lose your favourite part of anatomy. Name it and have it for your meal.” He made sure he printed so that no one would recognise his writing. Yet, all this didn’t calm his nerves one bit. He presumed he’ll have to stay on guard for some time now.
Now, back to the girl. He sighed. He didn’t dare change the sheets in his guest bedroom. He didn’t even let Mor use the room when she came over last weekend— which he could bet created suspicion. No, that room was only open when he craved her scent. He even realised one of his shirts was missing. He shrugged it off thinking he would've left it somewhere and just couldn't find it. Once she came to his house, he was constantly thinking about her. So much that now he started pinching himself often. It was the only way he could stop thinking about her— by creating physical pain.
Cassian glanced at the clock on the wall. 2.30 in the afternoon. He walked to the refrigerator and checked his freezer compartment. Huh. No ice-cream. He sighed, grabbed his jacket and keys and headed to the mall to get an ice-cream with a pout. He’ll have to leave for Rhys and Feyre’s first anniversary only around 5.30 to prepare everything. He has enough time to get an ice-cream and probably hang out for some time. Good enough to stop thinking about her. Or so he thought.
***
Nesta wasn’t sore anymore. Her headache was gone almost a week after the incident. Her nose didn’t hurt anymore. Okay, maybe a little bit. It didn’t hurt unless she bumped her nose against something. Today, her nose was dully throbbing because she hit her nose against a pillow yesterday. A very, very soft pillow and yet it hurt this much.
The man’s first-aid and medicines were really helpful.
It really wasn’t fair that he excelled at basic first aid too. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. With black tattoos swirling over generously muscled arms and shoulder-length dark hair curling at the edges and gloriously tanned skin and hazel eyes with minute flecks of green and brown when taken a closer look at and dimples and—
A quiet “Who is it?” snapped Nesta out of her moping. She looked up to see Gwyn walking to her.
“Who is what?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Gwyn's pursed lips and glare conveyed that her act wasn't enough.
“Who are you thinking about?” Gwyn clarified.
“What makes you think I'm thinking about someone?” Nesta retorted.
Gwyn sat on the chair next to her and started assisting with classifying the unceremonious heap of books on the table to be kept back in its correct positions on its own rack.
“Nesta,” Gwyn sighed, “Clotho assigned you this stack almost an hour ago. And you've barely finished a third of the stack. Normally, you'd finish stacks bigger than this in an hour. So there's clearly something.”
“It wasn't anyone,” Nesta mumbled.
As usual, Gwyn saw through her lie. “You were twirling your hair,” she said flatly.
Heat inched up her neck. “I was not!”
Gwyn murmured a “uh-huh” and they lapsed into an easy silence till they were almost over.
Gwyn's eyes lit up as it normally did whenever she got an idea. “Is it him? The guy you came with that day?”
Nesta scowled, “How do you know…” she broke off when she realised which 'that day' Gwyn was talking about. Nesta fought back a blush. “No, no, this isn't about him. We don't know each other. Much. Like, we've seen each other a number of times? That's it. Nothing else.” Cauldron, the first part was a complete lie. But at least the rest are true. Will Gwyn happen to know his name? Maybe I ought to ask her. Or maybe I shouldn't.
She should, she decided. She cleared her throat. “Uh, Gwyn? Do you happen to know his name?”
Gwyn frowned and asked, “He hasn't told you yet?”
Nesta shook her head and answered, “No, we, uh, forgot. I guess. We haven't really exchanged names.”
Gwyn nodded and smiled. “Well, he is—”
“Gwyn!” a voice called. “You can't expect me to come over to you and beg for you to help me. Help me only if you want to or don't work under me.”
Gwyn’s eyes widened. She abruptly stood up and mouthed, “Merrill. I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” She all but ran to Merrill, the very strict librarian Gwyn was working under.
Nesta sighed and continued her work. There wasn’t much left so she was able to finish fast. She picked her things and left the library with a word to Clotho, heading to the mall.
***
The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to also eat something they liked. So, ice-cream it was. After having his ice-cream, Cassian was aimlessly walking around the mall. Here, not more than a month ago, he met her for the first time. Almost a month ago. He huffed out a breath. The fact that he was pining for her this long blew his mind off. He—
“This is your fault— not mine. I’m not taking the blame for this,” he told her. They bumped into each other. Again.
Her lips quirked up. “It is kind of my fault. But blame this—,” she poked his chest, “— for making my nose hurt again.”
Just like that, his mood sobered. “How are you?” he asked.
She pointed at the cafe to her left. “Coffee?”
He nodded. Who was he to say no to her?
So they ordered coffee and talked about everything and nothing. He grinned and she laughed. He laughed and she smirked. He wouldn’t say he knew her well but he’d never seen her so carefree. Her laugh was like nectar for a starving man. Her eyes bright and welling up with tears from laughing.
“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much,” she said.
Cassian put a hand on his heart dramatically and said, “I know, I know. I’m very funny.”
Her lips kicked up a notch. She straightened as if she just realised something. He was about to ask when she drawled, “So I just realised that we still haven’t exchanged names.”
Oh. Right. Of course. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Usually, when people meet, they start with introductions but in our case we’ve literally bumped into each other three times and still we don’t know each other.” He shook his head and extended his hand. “Well, hello there. I’m—”
His phone rang in his pocket. Fuck. He was going to kill whoever was calling him now. He was so close to knowing her name. He pulled out his phone to see an incoming call from Azriel. He apologetically looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could choose not to take this call and instead kill this idiot but I can’t. Just give me a moment, okay?”
She nodded and he picked up his call.
“What do you want?” he hissed.
“It’s 5.30 already, you idiot. We’ve got to get the things ready for the party. Mor already went to get the cake and you’re not even at home. Where on all earth and hell are you?” came Az’s faint voice.
“15 minutes only? Mother above, I’m coming.” he said.
Az’s “make it fast” was the last thing he heard before hanging up. “I wish we could stay here and talk forever,” he said to her, “but I have something up in a short while and I totally didn’t realise time was passing this fast. I’m so sorry. It was nice talking to you. Really. And I wish we could meet again. Though without the bumping part.”
He grinned when she smiled and said, “Bye. Have a nice day.”
“You too,” he called back. He didn’t want to think he imagined the subtle look of disappointment on her face because hell, he was a walking epitome of disappointment right now.
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𝔹𝔼𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝔸ℕ 𝔸𝕌𝕋𝕆𝔹𝕆𝕋 𝕋𝕌ℝℕ𝔼𝔻 𝔻𝔼ℂ𝔼ℙ𝕋𝕀ℂ𝕆ℕ (𝕋𝔽ℙ)
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Megatron looked at the Autobot infront of him.
"I wish to be on your side." She spoke.
"And why would I allow you to join the Decepticons when I can gut you where you stand?" Megatron threatened. "Unless you have- information you are willing to trade?"
"I am switching sides. I am not a rat." Y/n informed her voice unfaultered.
"Your loyalty proves you are still allied to the autobots." Megatron spoke, circling the femme.
"My leige let me personally snuff out the autbot femme for the Decepticons of course." Starscream announced.
"As I said once before. I am not a rat." Y/n spoke ignoring Starscreams threat "you take my offer. Or I leave- preferably with screamers head on a pike as a soviner."
A deep laugh came from Megatron as the Decepticons from the lower level of the command deck watched.
"Very well. I will welcome you into our ranks." Megatron spoke, "You'll be my first Lutient-"
"W-what!?" Starscream aspirated, "t-that is my post! My leige! She's still an autobot."
"Unlike you Y/n is known for providing results!" Megatron shouted at Starscream, "And has proven her respect within the mere mintues shes been here on not selling out the other side!"
"Y-yes my leige."
"Shockwave."
"Lord Megatron." The one optic scientists spoke up, "show our new Lutient around the war ship. As my top two Lutients you must work better than in sync."
"Yes my leige." Shockwave spoke as Y/n walked off, side by side with Shockwave.
The walk throughout the halls was silent, veichons looking her way, and even with there covered faces she sensed the digust they had with her.
"There is no logical reason for you to annex with the Decepticons. Why have you switched?" Shockwave announced.
"I suppose I got tired of blowing you off bridges Shockwave." Y/n responded.
"That is not an answer." Shockwave spoke, "I have fought you countless times on the battlefield, your reasons are illogical."
Y/n sighed, "for being a bot with no spark you sure do seem to care."
"Research purposes." Shockwave told her shortly.
"If you must know. I didn't belong there." Y/n spoke, "I never did, they never cared for me- none of them."
"Another illogical answer." Shockwave pronounced, "I have seen you take shots to the chasis-"
"That doesn't mean they would ever do it for me." Y/n cut him off, "at first. I would count how many times shots I had taken, Tallys are popular here on earth too. But soon the base walls filled with them. And there was no where else to write. I still believed that someone would come and erase the tallies, take the pain one time. You've taken more scratches for me than anyone."
"It would of been a shame if a boudler was to snuff your spark before I could terminate you." Shockwave told her.
"I believe you mean to say: You're welcome." Y/n told him.
"Yes I suppose that is a logically faster way of speech." Shockwave said.
"Then." Y/n spoke as they got to knockouts lab, "thank you"
Shockwave's helm turned to her quickly, his large optic confused on what she had just spoke.
"Come from a buff? Because primus do you need it." Knockout spoke.
"No. Shockwave was showing me around." Y/n spoke.
"You've infiltrated our base a number of times. Im sure you do not need a tour." Knockout spoke.
Y/n smirked, "mad because I beat your aft in too many times pretty boy?"
Knockout rolled his optics, "then go ahead and continue on your little tour. When your paint gets scratched dont come running to me for a buff."
Y/n chuckled, "good bye sweet cherry mech."
"Its not sweet cherry red! I told've you this before! I am deep rose red!" Knockout agrued as Shockwave and Y/n contuied on.
"I'll get you one day!" Knockout declared after her as she chuckled.
Shockwave contuied on with the tour, finishing off with showing Y/n the Predacon he had set after the autbots.
Y/n frowned as the beast looked at her, "I never did like fighting him." Y/n told Shockwave reaching out her servo in a friendly matter.
"He can't talk and we were told to simply just kill him." Y/n spoke as the Predacon rubbed his helm against her servo, "Such a beautiful creature. Its a shame they went extinct."
Shockwave was quiet as he observed the two closely. It was rare the Predacon liked anyone but him, and Megatron.
"You. Enjoy the beast?" Shockwave asked as Y/n turned to look at him and nodded.
"We should carry on." Shockwave spoke as Y/n nodded bidding farewell to the predacon and the two bots leaving.
"You will be working with me." Shockwave informed.
"Very well."
Over the short time Y/n's been there most warmed up to her- that inlcuded Megatron and disincluded Starscream- he was still angered by her taking his post.
She had finally a proper meeting with Soundwave before a mission and he seemed to take a liking to her, which she smiled at. Shockwave, her and Soundwaves first mission laid the foundation of them becoming a well known trio amongst the Decepticons ranks. And of course- Y/n then switched color schemes, matching Soundwave's and Shockwave's colors- just made them become well known.
She finally had her run in with the autbots, her against Ultra Magnus no less. Y/n had beat him to a pulp- or so she thought- last mintue he used all his strength with a god damn hammer no less.
Y/n laid on the floor leaking energon as she clutched the Predacon fang in her hand.
"You are a traitor to your brothers." Magnus declared, "Surrender now."
"Brothers? Yeah right. The autbots never cared. Never helped me." Y/n argued,"I was a mech sheild! Thats all!"
"Then you leave me no choice Y/n." Magnus spoke.
Closing her eyes as he lifted up the forge and Y/n braced. The pain never came as she opened her eyes Shockwave above her, his hand holding the face of the hammer stopping it in its path.
"Go." Shockwave demanded. "Get the specimen to the ship."
Y/n hurried up, running away as a groundbridge opened up, she stopped, go through? Or go back?
She turned around seeing Shockwave fly through the air and into the rocky mountains as she sighed, tossing the bone inside the portal she rushed after her friend.
She charged into Magnus' side, the two fighting again.
Before Shockwave could even get up, he heard a shot fired an a body fall.
Looking back he seen Y/n laying on the floor, Arcee with a gun aimed where Y/n would have been standing.
Soundwave had landed next to Shockwave the moment after it happened. Both expressionless, but pained on the inside.
The stand off was intense.
"They're not going to shoot back. We have what we came for." Ultra Magnus spoke the bone in his servo.
The two bots turned around walking off as there own groundbridge opened.
Soundwave walked over to Y/n's body, turning her over on her back his slim digits brushed her face plate.
Looking back at Shockwave he shook his head.
The slim bot picked her up walking over to Shockwave.
"A great loss we have suffered." Shockwave spoke as Soundwave nodded.
The green swirling portal had appeared behind them as they walked in, ending at the bridge where Megatron looked over hie warship.
"Lord Megatron."
"Shockwave. I presume your expedition has succeeded." Megatron spoke.
"Yes." Shockwave informed, "but with an unfortunate outcome attached."
Megatron turned around as Soundwave stepped up infront of Shockwave, Y/n's body still in his arms.
"Y/n has been terminated, by the one they call Arcee."
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yodamn · 4 years
Text
Heartbeat
Fox/Senator Reader
This is my first real fic ever posting to other people so heads up. I'm totally open for constructive criticism, I actually would love it! This is a little angsty so heads up on that. I'm attempting to write something less angsty and more actually like Tarzan on a Jungle like planet with the same premise!
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You. Were. Pissed. You were marching your way down to Fox's office. How dare he. How dare he do that to you. You passed other senators, staff members, Corosaunt guard. Some tried to greet you or start conversation. Some saw the fury that was pouring like lava from your body and face and turned to avoid you. You ignored them all. You had a mission. You stormed down and in-front of Fox's office. You rapped on the door three times before letting yourself in. Thire was in there talking to Fox about something or other. Both red and white clad men turned to look at you. Your heart fluttered in anger. Thire clapped Fox on the shoulder and walked out. He stopped to whisper in your ear.
"I'm sorry, give him hell"
As soon as the door had closed you whipped a page of flimsi out of your pocket and began to read from it.
"My Beloved Senator,
I apologize that I have to do this but there is no other way. The relationship we have both been in has gone on for too long. You risk to much in being involved with me. I should not have let you do this, I care too much to let you ruin your career for a Clone Commander no less. I care for you more than anything else and this is why I have to do this. You have given me many wonderful memories and I will cherish them until my time is up. You haven't done anything wrong, you are one of the most kind and sincere people I've ever met. But you cant risk everything for me. I hope we can still be good friends and work professionally together.
Thank you for everything,
Commander Fox"
You stopped and stared at the man you came to love. He looked back at you, trying so hard to keep his mask intact but you knew him too well.
"You got my letter"
"Your letter? Yes. I got it. I received your stupid unbelievable letter you UGH" You fumed waving the flimsi around. Tears welled up in your eyes. And you crumpled the letter in your hands.
"I didn't want to hurt you, that's why I sent a letter"
"You didn't want to? Then why do this? Fox, what is this about and don't tell me its about my career. Because that's banthashit. Because whether you want to acknowledge it or not you are much more important than some cushy Senate job. I know you Fox. Better than most" You argued, "You don't get to do that. You don't get to just give up. This is a relationship. Which means all parties must be involved in big decisions. Had I done something wrong I would've understood but I haven't. This is almost out of nowhere! And you don't get to make that decision for me. You can't just push me away like that"
"Im not-" he stuttered trying to contain himself, "I-I can't. I"
"Fox, what's going on? You've gone downhill. I've noticed it, the guys have noticed it. You're pushing everyone away and its not okay. We want to help you" You reason softly, moving closer to him and grabbing his arms "I love you. More than anything in the entire Galaxy. You're not like any other man I've ever met, Fox I-"
"That's just it!" He yells. You flinch in surprise, and he winces at that. Fox groans.
"I'm not a person. Im not a man. I cant give you what you need. I cant even give you myself because I don't even own myself! Im a weapon. A organic machine who's job is to protect the Chancellor and nothing more. I don't mean anything and you deserve better than that" he looks up, "I was born in a test tube, my job is to die just like all my other vod. I don't get to live happily because I'm not a person, and you deserve someone who is" he cracked sadly. All he wants is the best for you. Why cant you see that? Whats that saying? If you love someone let them go?
You stare, surprised, hurt, angry.
"What makes someone a person?" You ask.
Fox took a deep breath and sat down on the chair at his desk, "Please, just, don't do this"
"No, what makes someone a person?" You push.
Fox groans and rests his head in his hands. This is why he didn't want to tell you himself. Because he knew you'd fight it. Granted he also should've known you would come down to fight him yourself. You aren't know as Spitfire for nothing.
"I don't know" he admits weakly.
You walk around to sit on his desk in front of him. Looping your feet thru the arm rest of the chair you pull him closer. Fox doesn't look up. Fingers dance on his shoulders and remove the top piece of his armor. You set it aside and gently grab one of his wrists and bring it to press his hand against his chest.
"What is that?" You ask.
Fox dips his head lower and mumbles.
A free hand slides under his chin to lift it. You see tears brimming in his eyes, he doesn't want to hurt you. He cares too much. The pad of your thumb gingerly wipes away a tear that broke free.
You ask again, so softly, talking to a broken man, "What is that?"
Fox's eyebrows furrow trying not to sob the corners of his mouth turn down, "My heartbeat"
You then carefully cup his jaw to bring his head to press onto your chest, "And what's that?"
Fox sucks in a shakey breath, "Your heartbeat"
You let go of his jaw and he still rests it on your chest. Both hands gently grab at one hand and oh so softly massage and play with it. Pulling off the glove you press your hand to his. Matching them together. Seeing how different and strong his hand is compared to yours.
"Fox" you trail one finger along his hairline, "Look at me"
He looks up and just barely meets your eyes. You again cup his chin and give his forehead a chaste kiss. Then turn his head to face your hands.
"We are the same. Same heart beat. Same soul. Same hands. Cant you see it?" you whisper into his temple.
"There is nothing that says you aren't worthy. You've fought and protected people. So have your brothers. You've committed the greatest sacrifice for people who don't see you for who you are" You explain gently, "You, above all, deserve to be happy, just be selfish for once, I'll help you"
Fox chokes in another shaky breath and lifts to rest his forehead on yours.
"Thank you. I love you" he whispers. You smile and lay a kiss on his cheek under his eye. Enveloping him in a hug. You clutch your hand in his and bring it between you and your other hand goes around his head to further pull him in. His other arm pulling you closer to the edge of the desk and balling up in your sweater.
"I love you too" You say, "But don't ever do that again, talk to me next time. Me and your vod are here to help you, but we can only do that if you talk to us" You breathe while stroking his hair.
"Im sorry" He whispers into your collar, "I will"
"Thank you, now sleep I can tell you haven't gotten much" you hum and rest your head upon his.
"But when you wake up we do need to talk about pushing people away, honesty and trust is vital in a relationship" you continue and pet Fox's head as he nods in agreement on your collar bone.
You quickly feel Fox snore quietly against your collar bone. For the rest of the time you hold each other and you formulate a plan to demand the Clones you've come to care for citizenship and respect from the government who created them.
@clonesandmoans @fulcrum-for-the-win @morganas-pendragons
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coffeecakefanfics · 4 years
Text
The 1,001 Clichés of A Teenage Romance (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader)
Studying with Ned was nothing new to Peter, but actually stopping by ‘Kay’s Coffee and bakery’ for coffee was.  The coffee shop sat two buildings down from his apartment and Aunt May would stop in before work every morning.  With her day off she asked Peter and Ned to run and get her a coffee and whatever they’d like.  
It was a typical coffee shop, the walls were painted a muted cream and the tables were a beautiful sturdy oak.  There were pictures of New York plastered on the wall along with a big picture of the “Kay” family.  Behind the counter was a menue board along with a black board with the desserts of the day scribbled in pink and yellow chalk.  
“Good morning, welcome to Kay’s Coffee and Bakery where every cup is brewed fresh and every baked good is homemade how can I help yo- Oh hey I know you two from school,”  The girl stood behind the counter.  She had a smile on her face.  She wore a plain black long sleeve with a small Kay’s logo on the left breast.  The half apron she wore was black and the name tag was pinned to the top ‘Y/N’
“We have Calc, bio, and english together and im pretty sure we share a lunch break too,” she beamed.
“Oh yeah you’re in drama and on the volleyball team right?” Ned kind of lit up.
“Yup, and i’m in knowledge bowl, student council, and they’re trying to get me to join prom planning,” she kind of laughed. Peter recognized her alright, she was the top hitter on the volleyball team, he remembers watching her last season with MJ. 
“You stay busy then?” Peter piped up this time.
“Well I mean between school, clubs, and work i’m surprised I have time for anything else,” She took a deep breath at that. “So, what can I get you guys?”
“I need an,” Peter looked at the text May had sent him, “Iced French Vanilla with Extra Extra Cream and white chocolate syrup and a coffee cake muffin” he finished and peeked up at the girl who was already brewing the drink. 
“So you’re the famous nephew huh?” she teased as she poured the creamer into the cup. Peters face went flush and he started to stutter
“I-well I uh”
“It’s fine, I think it’s sweet.  She tells me how good you take care of her and the trouble you get in to.  It’s honestly one of my favorite parts of my morning.  Everyone else is suuuch a drag,” She laughed and slid the drink and muffin across the counter. “Anything else?”
“We don’t really drink coffee,” Peter turned to Ned. “do you want anything?”
“Yeah can I have a hot chocolate?”  He asked.
“Of course, plain or with extras, extras are free of charge except espresso shots”
“However you like it is fine”
“alright that’ll be $8.27 thank you,” she took the cash, gave them change and went to making the drink. 
“May We’re back” Peter called into the apartment.  May came almost running from the couch to grab her coffee. 
“You are a life saver,” she kissed the top of his head.
“Come oonn” he gently pushed her back.
“Where’s Ned?”
“He had to go home, something about a new episode of a show, I don’t know” He flopped onto the chair cockeyed to the couch.
“She’s cute right?” May smirked and set her drink down.
“I mean yeah, She’s pretty, but she’s also popular,” he shrugged. 
“Peter, baby, she has a job and a full ride to MIT, not to mention she likes a lot of the same dorky stuff you do,” she shifted and looked at him. “You haven’t been on a date in years Pete, why not go now?” she poked.
“She probably already has someone, I mean she is popular, remember?”
“I think you should go for it, get out of the house,” The conversation ended there. Peter laid in bed that night thinking about how he’d spot her in class or in the halls.  She was pretty, but she was also busy, he didn’t want to mess with her schedule. 
Lunch rooms are the devil, they’re clique filled and loud, but the only time he can actually talk to his friends. 
“Come on you KNOW that padme just lost the will to live,” How the topic started none of them new all they new was Peter and Ned were going at it again and MJ wanted out. “Dude she just gave up, her husband joined the darkside, face the facts”
“Actually, Palpatine took her life force for Anakin, Padme was a strong woman who fought for what was right, she wouldn’t just leave her babies alone,” Y/n jumped in and sat next to MJ. Ned and Peter looked at each other and back at the girl.
“What i’m popular not uncultured,” she laughed. “Okay MJ I need some serious help with knowledge bowl studying”
“Y/n, I love you, I do, but I’m busy this week, I have a ton of homework because Mr. Braun decided to be a dick, I’m sorry,” MJ spoke remorsefully.
“My meet is monday, it’s going to decide who goes to state, is there no way you can help,” Y/n pleaded with her friend.
“I’m sorry, I am, but I can’t fail this class”
“You’re right I’m sorry, if you need help studying or doing homework i’ll help you” She smiled and went to stand. 
“Peter can help,” Ned blurted
“I can?” Peter turned his head sharply.
“He can, he has a stark internship until 6 but after that he’s free,” Ned motioned with his eyes from Peter to the Girl.  
“I-uh-I, yeah I can help,” he stuttered and flushed.
“Peter you really don’t have to,” she gave him a sympathetic look.
“Yeah no, it’s uh, no problem,” he smiled awkwardly.
“You just saved my life, I owe you.  I’ll meet you at the coffee shop and we can go to my place after okay?” she beamed.  Peter liked her smile, it was bright. 
“Of course” he grinned. 
“Y/N, Game plan!” One of the other girls called.
“Sorry, I have to go but tonight at 6,” she lit up as she grabbed her tray and jogged over to her friends.
“What the fuck?” peter turned to Ned.
“I saw how you looked at her at the coffee shop, and you haven’t been on a date in years. it’s my job as a wing man to help you get dates,” Ned shrugged and took a bite of the sandwich in front of him. Peter sighed and pulled his phone out.
P:Hey May, I’m helping a friend study I won’t be home till late
M:You’re not patrolling are you?
P:No, I’m seriously helping a friend study
M:Stay safe, I sent you $10 for dinner <3
The streets were dim when Peter walked up to the shop.  She stood locking the door.
“Hey” He called.
“Peter Hi,” she grinned and waved. 
“So um, y-your place?” he tugged at his straps. 
“Yeah, I live in those apartments right there,” she nodded at the building two doors down.
“Wait, what? so do I, how come I never see you?” he turns to her. 
“I usually take the fire escape home, I hate walking through the lobby, and I can sneak in without having to talk to my family,” she laughed. “Not that they’re bad people, I just get over worked and don’t want to take it out on them” they walked into the lobby and got in the elevator.
“Don’t worry about them being home, I live with my dad and he’s on a business trip,” she unlocked the door and let Peter walk in.  It was cleanly decorated with neutral greys, whites and blacks. 
“This is nice,” he lets his eyes wander the apartment.
“Yeah, it’s how my mom liked it,” she smiled sadly.  Peter remembers it happening, it was one of the attacks on New York, The avengers couldn’t get everyone out in time, 3 people had died that day.
“I’m sorry for your loss”
“I’m not, she’s why I do what I do” The girl smiles and kicks her shoes off, “my room is back here, it’s way cooler than this,” she laughs and drags him to her room.  Warm LED lights illuminate the room.  Peter spins and looks at all the posters and figurines scattered around the room.  The walls are decorated with posters of various animes and shows. He turns to the tv stand and sees shelves full of games. 
“Told you I’m cultured,” she teases and sits on the bed. Peter sits next to her.  She pulls out her laptop and plugs a flash drive into it. 
“So this will give you questions and the answer, I get a point if I get it right,” she smiles and spins the screen to him. “thanks for doing this, by the way,” she adjusts and holds a decorative pillow to her chest.
They had been at this for nearly two hours she was growing frustrated and uneasy.
“Who wrote A farewell to Arms?”
“Hemmingway” she looed pleadingly
“Yes,” he beamed and went to click next.
“I can’t anymore, I’m done,” she flopped back on the bed. “This sucks” she yells muffled by her pillow.
“Then why keep doing it?” he closes the laptop. She sits up and pushes her hair out of her face. 
“That is a topic for a different level of friendship,” she smirks and looks him over.  She had had a crush on him forever, and by forever she means since last year.  She admired how his eyes kind of drifted around the room. 
“Do you need to go home yet?” she asked. His eyes jumped back to her and locked. 
“No, I live two floors down so it’ll only take a minute to get home”
“Do you want to play a game or watch a movie?” she asked, getting up and grabbing the controller. His face kind of flushed. “A-a movie is fine”
“What? scared I’ll kicked your ass or something?” she smirked.
“No way I just don’t want to make you cry when I beat you,” he joked cockily with her.
“Oh you’re on Parker, Injustice 2?” she looked back at him and he nodded.
“Black Canary is way to OP this is bullshit,” Peter throws his hands up. Y/N laid laughing at him.  His phone cut the laughter short.
“it’s May sorry,” he picked up the phone. “Peter it’s 10 pm where are you?!” she called into the line.
“there’s no way it’s-” he looked at his watch. “Oh shit, May I’m sorry i’m coming down now,” he hung up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize how late it is,” he scrambled to grab his stuff. 
“Fire escape is faster than the lobby, there’s a window to the hallway if you go to the right” she grabbed his phone and bag for him. 
“i had fun,” he smiled at her.
“I did too, especially since I kicked your ass at injustice,” she smirked.
“I’ll see you at school monday?” he asked.
“Um, I’m free saturday if you want to come over, we can play games or watch a movie or something? I’ll get us pizza or-” she trailed off.
“I’d love to,” he blushed.
“It’s a date,” she smiled and opened her window. Peter stepped out onto the landing. 
“Hey peter?” she called and he turned to her.  She leaned out and kissed his cheek. “A little something for the road,” she held something wrapped in white paper to him. He shut the door to his apartment. 
“There you are, I was worried sick,” May scolded.
“I was upstairs with a friend, I’m sorry we lost track of time.  He set the paper on the counter and opened it.  A fresh coffee cake was sitting in a small box with a note
‘For May and Peter’ 
32 notes · View notes
the-acid-pear · 3 years
Text
Scarface was too fucking boring, didn't make it past chapter 3, but that's good, because that means Baki-Dou time 😍
Time to read the fourth book in this series! Excited to see Musashi <3
Chapter 1
COLORS
Baki please stop flexing
A FELLA SAYING THE SAME I SAID WHEN YUJIRO PULLED HIS SOB STORY, FR GO TRY SOMETHING ELSE! What happened with that whole "i don't care about fighting" eh Baki?!
Chapter 2
HOHO ALI JR???
ah no :/
HOLY FUCK is this quality bad!
He wants to taste defeat i see
TOKUGAWA PLEASE STOP SMOKING
Oh they removed the... Egg in the back of the neck, nice
God this guy's tits so fat 🥵
FINALLYYY HOW LONG SINCE WE SAW A FIGHT IN THE ARENA? A PROPER FIGHT I MEAN
Chapter 3
He doesn't even know 🐍
DON'T BRING THAT FELLA HERE RETSU KICKED HIS ASS IN TIME. RECORD
Oh i saw fanart of this scene
Baki, it's your fault that you are bored, you fucking teen
This shit boring ME
Chapter 4
Oh, goroukou is a title
I like how the prime minister is becoming a recurrent character
I thought he said babe for a sec-
That little "oh~" is a bit sus, are the old men... No, it can't be 😳😳😳
I'm fucking choking fuck
GOD ALMOST READ THAT AS JOHN CENA 😭
"yes <3"
These ppl never learn
Chapter 5
What a way to go, a la gamzee /j
This dude so weird lmao
FAHDGAHDH king
Dude he has huge round eyes tf you talking bout?
IGDUFSUEASEUURSS he's such a freakkk 😭😭😭
This is the most wtf thing Baki has pulled, remember when this was about fighters fighting? I don't know enough about science for this shit either man
Okay so their hug wasn't Tokugawa being touchy like he is, this guy is even worse, se juntaron el hambre y las ganas de comer HSHAFSFG
Chapter 6
Baki's dead
Katsumi about to kill get killed by my grandpa i see
ALSO KATSUMI OG HAIR WOOO
Katsumi bro don't be so happy over nearly killing him-
I love seeing him get better tho
Uwaadgsgsjdga 😍😳🤤 twisting my hair irl,,, 🥴
Finally Motobe remembered he was a character here 😐
FSGSHDAHDA KOSHO PLS
I LOVE that they got dark lips again
IM SORRY GOUKI HOW DO YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT EVERYONE?! LTDKFsjyrd 😭
Jack's scar looks cool ngl
Retsu living the good life lmao
AND HOW DO YOU KNOW, GRANDPA?
Hana just doesn't care, smartest Baki character lmao
Idk what they talking bout but good for em <3
Cum basement
Chapter 7
SHOW US MUSASHI'S COCK
Obsessed he thought his heart was failing 😭
Dude you can just hear the heart beat of your friends/opponents just like that? 🤨
Notice Gaia in the top left 🥴
WHY CAN HE RECOGNIZE EACH OF THEIR HEARTBEATS AAHSGA
Thick 🥵
Unironically built different
Chronic back pain if you ask me, that's how I stand to relieve my agony
Did. Did you just call him a femb-
STOP SHOWING ME PANELS FROM VAGAMOND
I love John sm lmao
Mr Musashi has 2 (3?) dads
Chapter 8
HAIRY LEGS 🥴
Those things look like boobs
Bet you would know eh SHAFADB
They jerked off the mummy?
Reminds me of eye surgery
AFjshAFDGAJAHAF
Mf came out the tube ripped af 😭
Chapter 9
Everyone is so feminine lately good ol Kureha fell behind 😭
I like his bandana tho it's cute
OH HE TOO? AND HE'S NOT EVEN THAT STRONG
Fat tits 🥴
Eheojeudkshs 😖😳👉👈
JACK STOP YOU ARE BIG ENOUGH ALREADY
HOLY FUCK
You know like i understand Baki, he is at the highest he can be rn, NO ONE can defeat him, but the rest? Like c'mon y'all just beat each other up or something
Ah, the miracle of birth 😍
Chapter 10
I love how all these two do is hang out together in bars, boybosses
TF IS UP WITH THAT ICE? AHDHS
I love what they have
Hana thinking of getting his 4 limbs broken again i see
WOOO!! Nice cock Mr Musashi 😳
HANAYAMA PLEASE 😐
Chapter 11
I love those freaks
I just now I'm seeing the little scars on his cheeks from the fight with Spec ☺️
I love the fact that Musashi has hair in his legs BUT not his arms like ??? Okay king
Heated scientist moment
HOHO POGGERS 👀
Chapter 12
UTSURAARSDFAFA sibling goals
GIRLBOSS 😍
URAURUSYRSAESGA IN LOVE???
Holy shit she's amazing
Chapter 13
And his ass is very thick too 😳
Those fucking sunglasses, obsessed
Debatable, he got struck by lightning :/
HE WAXES HIS HAIR? OMFG OBSESSED
WHY IS HE WEARING THAT LMAO 😭
Nooo they censored the cock again 😔😔😔
DO IT QWEEN 💅
STOP SAYING SHE'S GONNA FUCK THE CLONE
"I'm exciteddddd" "ok."
Chapter 14
You just hate seeing a girlboss win
She truly is amaizing
Also i just realized spirits have been showing up since the first book so this isn't so crazy lol
MF HOW IS THAT GONNA HELP 😭😭😭
THE LITTLE BUBBLES AND SPARKLES... I BET HE DID 🥺
Chapter 15
WHY ARE HIS TITS SO ROUND AND FAT GODDAMN IT,,, 😳😖
Glad seeing some things never change
He looks so much like Jun
IGSITSURAURZES EPICCC
Someone question if Yujiro knew how too write obsessed,,,
Chapter 16
Goddamn it you got even older in the past 3 or so chapters bro
Mouth to mouth soul transference
OHHH
HIS EYEBROWS FELL HOW IGDUTSITDIYDIGD
Some mf got turned on by this HELP 😭
Chapter 17
I love how Yujiro and Hana are still getting ready to throw hands while this happens lol
Okay yeah that was super disrespectful honestly, guy is having a chat :/
HAHAGSJAHA obsessed
God i thought it was Hana the one grabbing some random lady for a second AFDJSJSSJS
He cute af ngl
POOR GUY MUST BE SO CONFUSED OMFG,,,
Fsr I'm surprised he can talk, like it should be obvious but in all the fanart i saw he never said a word, also, he's so damn respectful 😍
Chapter 18
Idk he was never that clever /hj
Hehehe blood
I love how John can only sit that way
The size of his balls lmao
Coward won't even fight with his dick out smh :/
God he mad cute-
Chapter 19
I MISS THE DEATH ROW FELLAS FUCKKK
Hm i think this random tiny bald man is not Tokugawa but someone that looks awfully similar to him
YEAH NO SHIT I FEEL SO BAD FOR HIM, HE MUST BE SO DAMN OVERWHELMED
Apparently there was a cameo, i don't know enough about anime to know or care
Chapter 20
He's tripping balls
Tokugawa should have gone a bit slower with this poor guy, this is like a lot to process at once <:/
Nvm he's doing better than me
Oydirsusefs look at himmm
WAIT A FUCKING SECOND OMFG DIDN'T DOPPO FIGHT THIS GUY?!
SOMEONE ELSE RECOGNIZED HIM HE ISSS
Chapter 21
OHDIRAYEASURRSUURS HE DOESN'T KNOWWW FFS
Musashi be like °_°
LOOK AT THAT SMILE LMAO
He's just chilling, mentally killing this dude
Murder baby
Chapter 21
The way his eyes are drawn is so cool
YRAURSUFSIDTGA
And he jokes too! Wow I'm in love 😍
(nsfw) CAN YOU HANDLE DICK LIKE THAT TOO? 😍
WOW
I TAKE BACK THAT QUESTION
I remember a show where you would bring your own knives and swords and go thru a bunch of test, Musashi should have been one of them
Mf truly is like :]
I love how he didn't buy it
I can't wait for him to fight Yujiro 😍
Chapter 23
He truly is 😌
ATFJAIDQYSF OBSESSED
He was happy this time at least, 5 times he lost already btw
Tokugawa truly in unhateable lmao
Chapter 24
IM SORRY, HIS LEG???
Oh I forgot Musashi does that
JAGSKSGSKSGS HIS FUCKING FACE I CAN'T 😭
I miss when translators would add notes i don't want to google shit myself :/
"I'm hard as rock" /j
Chapter 25
Look how happy he issss
MUSASHI POG MUSASHI POG-
I love how Tokugawa can't believe he got it first try and it's trying to lie now sjdakdyv
This mf is actually making me insane what the actual fuck i don't know what he has but he's gonna make me act up 😳
Mf be shadow boxing too dammit /j
Baki please
Chapter 26
OLD MAN JUST WANTS A PUBLIC TO SEE THIS LMAO
Look at the size of Baki's eyes holy fuck lmao
He's gonna yeet him!
OH NOOOO
FIRST HIS DAD NOW MUSASHI, THIS GUY CANT CATCH A BREAK LMAO
Chapter 27
How little time passed? They have barely moved
Yeah you did it last book too Baki
King shit
Chapter 28
AKSGSKGSJSGS KING
I love how he only now realized
Okay no he has a point
I love how he just calls him boy
Look at that smug face
I trust Musashi but at the same time he, really should be walking around this new world alone. Now, if i were to accompany him... 🥴/j
Baki please
Chapter 29
I love how soft the artstyle suddenly got, like if done big a big brush
Yujiro you just insulted every single anime character in history
Baby Baki's just like "Ok."
I like how Yujiro looks here
AUGHHJF HE'S SO BABY 🥺
HOHO badass
Chapter 30
He died 😔
Idiot hasn't even beat he 0.5 reaction seconds lmao 🤣
HOHOOOOO?!? 👁️👁️
"my curiosity exceed my fear!!" I RESPECT THIS MAN SO MUCH??
Chapter 31
AMAIZING HONESTLY
Fighter to fighter communication
SHIT LOOK AT THE STATE OF THAT HAND
He's just gone now LMAO
I honestly don't mind Baki being weak against this, he never fought against a two handed swordman, this is new territory
Chapter 32
Oh his really tripping balls now this is why he shouldn't be alone
NVM HE'S STILL DOING BETTER THAN ME ON A DAILY BASIS, I HAVE A LOT TO LEARN FROM THIS MAN
I just now realized he's barefoot
Nice ass king
The policemen are quite nice
He's very cooperative but i can't blame the cops either
Chapter 33
Yeah no shit that must be so insane
IF YOU HADN'T DROPPED OFF SCHOOL THEN...
That's kinda funny but idk man he's right i think
He's just like :3
I love how he isn't picking up a fight out of malice but rather just instinct like, he can't understand shit that is going on
YOU ARE SO RIGHT BAKI IT ISN'T BORING FOR ME EITHER
Chapter 34
Don't you fucking dare shave him Itagaki
It's funny how it took 2 books and a half for Baki to start being a protagonist
Holy fuck did Baki add height or is Miyamoto that big?
Wow how perfect i ran out of space just now!! Having fun with this book ngl :]
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sylvanfreckles · 4 years
Text
Imprisoned (FebuWhump 03)
You can also find this on AO3
Fandom: The Witcher Summary: Jaskier finds himself at the mercy of a malicious innkeeper...luckily Geralt isn’t too far behind him.
* * *
Jaskier stared in disbelief as the innkeeper dropped the coins back on the counter. “No good.”
“No good?” the bard repeated. “You've got to be kidding me It was fine a few days ago.”
“Crown's no good here,” the innkeeper repeated. He leaned onto the bar, the muscles in his shoulders bulging from the change in position. “This is Kaedwen.”
“Ah—yes, yes, I know that,” Jaskier held a finger up. “But it only take three of your ducats to equal one Redanian crown, everyone knows that. You said it was five ducats per night, so you can take two crowns and keep the extra to cover the difficulty of changing currency.”
The innkeeper snorted. “Ye already owe me for three days, bard.”
Jaskier spluttered. “Three days? I paid in advance!”
“You didn't.”
“I did! It's right there in your ledger book,” he snapped. He snatched up the book from the end of the counter “I paid you five crowns, which is equal to fifteen ducats, so I'm all paid up for...three....”
His voice trailed off. He'd opened the ledger book where the tattered ribbon marked the latest page, fully intent on exposing the innkeeper's scheme, but his familiar signature wasn't there. The pages were filled with the innkeeper's sloppy scrawl and the marks of his guests, but Jaskier's name was nowhere to be seen. In fact, an entire page had been torn out, leaving nothing but a ragged edge behind.
“Yer not in the book,” the innkeeper sneered.
Jaskier closed the ledger and placed it on the counter, then rested both hands on the scarred leather. There had to be a way out of this. Geralt was supposed to meet him here yesterday, but obviously the Witcher had gotten caught up in his own business along the way. Jaskier should have had enough money to wait for his friend, even without supplementing his purse by performing to the inn's other customers (he'd been barred from playing here, for some reason, or he'd have plenty of the blasted ducats to pay for his stay).
“Well,” he hedged, “perhaps one of the merchants in town would be willing to exchange my coin. Give me five minutes, and I'll be back with enough for the last three nights and a half dozen more.” Or, rather, he'd slip out of town and wait in the wilds for Geralt's arrival. Surely, surely the Witcher would be happy to lend his aid...this time it wasn't even Jaskier's fault!
He backed away from the counter, only to hit a solid mass behind him. For one, fleeting moment he thought Geralt had turned up in the nick of time...but rough hands seized him by the arms and slammed him forward onto the counter.
“Yer not goin' anywhere 'til you pay yer tab,” the inkeeper snarled. He twisted one meaty hand in Jaskier's hair and twisted his face up.
“I have money,” Jaskier protested weakly. He was down to eight crowns, including the two still on the counter, plus a handful of coppers but that was more than enough to cover his tab.
The innkeeper jerked his head to one side and rough hands hauled Jaskier away from the counter and onto his feet. He was spun around to face his captor, and caught a brief glimpse of a scarred face before a fierce backhand sent him crashing to the ground. He tried to push himself up but a kick from a hobnailed boot caught him under the ribs. Jaskier curled around himself, coughing and groaning, and then the boot was descending again and again.
His ribs, his shoulder, his back...his bones creaked and his skin bruised and tore under the assault. He didn't know if he should cover his head with his arms to protect his face or keep his hands tucked up to his chest to save his delicate fingers.
Breathless from pain, Jaskier could do little more than whimper when a hand caught him by the collar and picked him up enough for the scarred man to leer into his face. “'E's kind of small,” the scarred man called over to the innkeeper.
The innkeeper was already beside them, stripping Jaskier of his coin pouch and any other valuables on his person. “Don't worry. The salt mines are always in need of a new canary,” the innkeeper retorted. “Take 'im to the cellar. Pascar'll be by in a day or so, he always pays for fresh blood.”
With a grunt, the scarred man hauled Jaskier up to his feet. The bard stumbled against the rough treatment, though an oath from his captor and a blow to his kidney had him trying to stay upright. “Please...” he tried again. The words wouldn't quite come—please don't do this, I have friends coming for me, we can pay whatever you want.
“Stuff it, songbird,” the scarred man growled. They reached the door to the cellar and stopped just long enough for the bigger man to thrust it open and shove Jaskier down the wooden stairs.
For a moment, Jaskier considered turning on his captor. He was no match for the man, obviously, but something inside him quailed at giving up without a fight.
The moment was gone far too soon, however, as the scarred man followed on the bard's heels and struck him down again. Jaskier tried to roll away—he was smaller, he might be faster, if he could reach the door—but a rough boot slammed down on his hip and ground him into the dirt of the cellar floor.
“Now you just stay down here, nice and quiet,” the scarred man said. He pinned Jaskier's hands together in one meaty palm while he fumbled for a piece of rough cording that was tangled in the slats of an old crate. “Haskins'll take it outta my cut if I have to beat you black and blue and Pascar only pays half for ya.”
Jaskier opened his mouth to reply, but slammed it shut again and nearly bit through his tongue as he fought back a scream when the scarred man twisted the rope viciously around his wrists. Then the man was climbing to his feet and—oh gods—hauling Jaskier across the cellar floor by his wrists. The rope cut into his skin cruelly, and the movement jostled the injuries he'd already endured.
“Here we are,” the scarred man announced. He looped the rope over the top of a sturdy rack that help ale casks and heaved on it. Jaskier whimpered as he was pulled up by his arms until he was sitting against the rack. Then the big man looped the rope around Jaskier's arms and wrists to bind him to the rack so that he was unable to stand, or even shift position without threatening to dislocate something.
Terror and pain were knotting up his voice in his throat, and the scarred man was crouching in front of him again. “Open,” the scarred man said, holding up a filthy rag he'd found on the cask rack. He siezed Jaskier's face with one hand and planted a fist in his stomach with the other. Jaskier gasped and choked in pain, and then the rag was shoved into his mouth so roughly he felt it hit the back of his throat.
“We'll be back in a day or so,” the scarred man said, pushing himself up to his feet. “You...you sit tight.”
* * *
Geralt knocked the dust from his boots as he entered the run-down inn. If he had known the place was in this bad shape he'd've arranged to meet Jaskier somewhere else.
“Good day to ye!” the innkeeper called from behind the counter. “If yer wantin' a room it's three ducats a night—'course if yer paying in Redanian crowns it'll be two crowns, on account of me needing to change 'em out down the road.”
“I'm looking for someone,” Geralt replied, cutting through the innkeeper's bluster. “Has a bard come through here?”
The innkeeper reddened. “Ah, n-no, no bards.” He fidgeted with a dirty rag in his hands and wiped in ineffectually across the scarred wood. “The baron outlawed 'em, y'see. One of 'em wrote a nasty little song about him a few years back, and now he can't stand the sight of 'em.”
Geralt stared at the man, then turned to study the room. He'd been due in this shithole two days ago, but a fight with a werewolf had left him laid up in a decrepit old barn half a day's ride from here. Jaskier wouldn't have left without him, not after two days. “Did anyone leave a message for me?”
The other man was staring at him now, as though the white hair and yellow eyes were finally sinking in. “Say...ain't you...”
With a grunt of annoyance Geralt twisted one hand in the innkeeper's collar and hauled him up onto the counter until they were eye-to-eye. “I'm meeting a friend here. Have you seen him?”
The man's face twitched and his eyes flickered to the side for a moment. “A...a friend?”
Geralt followed the man's gaze. A scarred man who had been lounging at the back of the inn's great room suddenly straightened to his feet, moving as though to intercept Geralt's path to the door to the wine cellar on the other side of the bar.
He didn't stand a chance.
Perhaps men like him were enough to waylay helpless travelers, but no one laid a hand on a Witcher and lived to tell the tale.
The inn's cellar was dim, but Geralt's eyes had no problem adjusting to the gloom. Even if his vision hadn't been good enough to see the drag marks in the floor, the room wasn't quite big enough to hide the body slumped against the rack of ale casks in the back corner.
“Jaskier,” Geralt breathed. He knelt at his friend's side, fury and concern twisting up in his stomach. The bard's face was pale beneath the dirt and bruises, his eyes closed in a fitful sleep. Geralt rested one palm against the bard's cheek and gently tugged at the rough gag that had been stuffed into his friend's mouth.
Jaskier came awake with a start, flinching away from the figure that knelt over him. “It's me, Jaskier,” Geralt said. He finally pulled the gag free and held his friend's gaze for a long few seconds, long enough for the disoriented panic in Jaskier's eyes to melt into relief.
“Geralt,” Jaskier wheezed. “Thank the gods.” His voice was rough and cracked. Given the state of his clothes it was apparent he'd been down here for more than a day, though Geralt would know more once his friend was safe and he could interrogate that thrice-damned innkeeper.
“I've got you,” he said as he tugged a knife out of his boot. The ropes binding Jaskier to the rack were cut through in an instant, and the bard toppled forward with a whimper of pain. Geralt braced him against his own shoulder, hoping his familiar presence would help Jaskier shake away the lingering fear of this place. “Are you hurt?”
“I can travel,” Jaskier replied quickly. Too quickly.
Geralt frowned at him. There was blood on Jaskier's doublet, and when he gently pushed the fabric away he hissed out a breath at the sight of torn and bruised flesh beneath. “Jaskier.”
“Please?” Jaskier grasped his wrist, his pale hands trembling. “I don't want to stay here.”
The Witcher heaved a sigh. “There's a barn about half a day's ride from here.”
“Anything is better than this place.”
“Right.” Geralt pushed himself back up to his feet, then bent down enough to sling one of Jaskier's arms around his neck. “Let's go get your money back first.”
* * *
You know, sometimes you just have one of those days and you need to whump the bard. You know what I mean?
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bellamyblake · 4 years
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I saw Your Tags so would you expand on the Bellamy denied Story Line thing?
sure!
I think the biggest problem and something that people failed to see in season 7 because they were so focused on the OOC aspect (which I disagree strongly with) is that it’s not about Cadogan or the cult or what they believe in. Frankly, they could believe in shit catching light which kinda is what they believed in, and it would’ve been fine and it IS fine, what the problem is the way the story line and the characters threat Bellamy Blake.
And that is that everyone, absolutely everyone puts him up to high fucking standards that he is not required to fulfill and is not supposed to live up to.
Let’s just dig into it for a moment:
Bellamy chooses to believe Transcedence and that it will bring peace to his people.
I don’t see absolutely anything wrong with that. Frankly, it’s what they’ve been trying to achieve since season 1 (when they wanted to get to the see AWAY FROM WAR and live AT PEACE MIND YOU, anyone remember that????)
(P.S He ends up being absolutely right about the Transcendence thing anyway and that IS the end of the entire SL-it as a choice and the people who chose against it for whatever reason)
So he belives in it.
And he tries to follow it.
And what happens?
His best friend/romantic interest-Judges him
His sister-judges him
His gf/ex-gf-Judges him
ALL OF HIS FRIENDS WHO HE FOUGHT FOR AND KEPT ALIVE ON THE RING FOR FIVE YEARS MINUS EMORI HERE I WOULD SAY-JUDGE HIM
It’s not just that they condemn his choice.
It’s that they REFUSE to understand it. Absolutely refuse to understand it.
And here comes the thing-as much as they can not understand it, they should at least respect it. 
THEY NEED TO ALLOW BELLAMY BLAKE to have a LIFE of his own A CHOICE of his own, something he has NEVER EVER EVER EVER had in his life.
EVER.
I mean it-EVER.
He didn’t have a choice when his mom put his sister in his arms at seven, he didn’t have a choice when he came to earth because it was the only choice because he had to protect her, he didn’t have a choice when Clarke left after Mount Weather and then we have a small interruption in season 3
where again
oh ain’t it interesting
that AGAIN he makes a choice of his own (wrong or right not the point here) to follow PIke and yes he makes a mistake but it is because he wants to protect the people he loves and stop the killings (SOUNDS FAMILIAR? HE WANTS PEACE IN SEASON 7 OH-WAIT?
OUT OF CHARACTER YOU SAID?
NO KAREN I FRANKLY DISAGREE WITH YA)
and then is judged for it again even though nobody else is judged at the same grade for the mistakes besides Clarke and even then she had him in her corner and it was good because he had her in his corner in season 3 but not in season 7 frankly
another surpirse mind you
so he makes a choice in season 3 and the narrative punishes him for it, rightfully or wrongfully so it’s on our minds and consciousness to decide. it is the beauty of the show i believe-to love or hate people who make wrong choices that all of the characters do multiple times.
and then he’s beaten up for it and half of his sl in season 3 is not explained, his choices are NOT explained, his decisions are NOT explained, his scenes are cut off and the rest of it is spend on all characters beating up Bellamy for 2 seasons.
And on and on-at the end of season 4 he makes the choice to leave Clarke to save them all-is it really a choice again? I don’t think so. As much as hers to destroy the mountain I believe.
And in season 6 his choice is to save the person that he loves and put everyone else in danger.
Mostly, he hasn’t had any choices. And if he had he was put in impossible situations like Clarke has which fine, as I said that’s the story.
But, throughout it all, he has NOT made a choice for HIMSELF, for his OWN benefit, a choice to LIVE for HIMSELF.
He hasn’t.
We as a fandom always wanted that or at least those of us bellamy stans who didn’t hate on bellamy and instead tried to understand him instead of calling it OOC. Because we knew, we knew it’s not him, it’s the way it was written.
The SL denies Bellamy Blake everything-his own life most of all.
And it denies him explanation and background for the choices he makes and the life he has in time jumps.
Starting with season 3 and the time jump-we never know the trauma he went to and the thoughts he had to process when Clarke was gone, the PTSD he surely suffered (that is shown in Clarke but not in him? somehow? as if he ain’t a person who can feel things but just a means to an end). And then it proceeds to the lack of explanation when it comes to joining Pike, even the massacre which I think should’ve been showed to show his remorse and refusal to kill all grounders and then it proceeds and is at its worse form in season 5
when we jump into a Head! prevailing more than heart!prevailing Bellamy and we don’t have the explanations for it or how the transitioned happened or what ever he went through for a small part of those 6 years.
he is DENIED that.
Story wise he is denied.
The worst is that he is JUDGED even though he is denied that.
By Clarke by his sister by the other characters and I hate most of all even Jordan saying in season 6-Heart Bellamy that was my favorite Bellamy.
Like shut the fuck up.
He’s not just heart or head Bellamy-he is Bellamy who learned to survive on that Ring the same way Clarke learned to survive in those 3 months after Mount Weather.
He is STILL Bellamy, no different, just a little more reserved, a little smarter, a little sad even, because he lost his best friend, someone we know now he loved and it changed him forever.
And the same thing happens in season 7 where yes we got the explanation as to HOW he got to believe this which I think is great still, and I think Aurora’s moment with him in the cave was MORE THAN NECESSARY and has been necessary for the past 7 years. But he is judged for what he chose to believe, he is judged for the life he chooses for himself
which is a life of peace.
and THAT is the problem. All the characters, they judge him, they hate him, they KILL him and then they say-oh but Bells was sad all this time so yk, I mean he died it makes sense.
SHUT UP.
He’s been sad all his life. He didn’t deserve to live his life for everyone else only for EVERYONE ELSE TO REFUSE TO LIVE THEIR LIVES A LITTLE FOR HIM.
THEY COULD’VE OFFERED LOVE.
IF NOT AT LEAST UNDERSTANDING
IF NOT-AT LEAST LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE
and considering he ended up being right they sure af ended up betraying the one person who never ever condemned them like this, who always saw things from more than one perspective when it came to his friends choosing things for themselves, who yes might’ve been angry that clarke left but understood, who yes didn’t like the person his sister became, but still loved her when he should’ve been pissed off for years, who offered love and friendship and udnerstanding to clarke when all of the friends she ends up living the rest of her life with hated her mere weeks ago.
And that
once again im saying that
is the tragedy of living.
and a gd awful way of the writers crushing your face into the gravel of reality.
so no, it’s not about whether or not the SL makes sense, whether or not it’s a good or bad one-was ALIE that great? no, but we all took it, this could’ve been taken too, it is about what HE is DENIED as a character.
And it is also about us as a fandom and our blatant refusal to understand this and condemn him the way his friends, the other characters, do.
That is also another tragedy.
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shyrose57 · 3 years
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Brothers anon back with ANGST at the very last question on part 2. Im honestly not positive myself how im gonna fix it. I have ideas but still. Hopefully this isn't to long.
Rans life at Mizu: For Mizu I've changed it a bit, history is still messed up to a point. But other people like Technoblade, Philza, Sam, Foolish, etc are now included with their own rooms. Ran idolized/choose Technoblade to follow. Followers of Technoblade are the only people in the City (expect for guards or police type people, though they also tend to be followers of Techno) that are allowed to freely carry weapons (after the proper training of course). Ran choose Technoblade because he wanted to protect those he loved and he was always interested in the art of fighting. He had two mentors, a women named Alma, she mostly did hand to hand combat and defense training with Ran, while a man named Fermin was a historical teacher, and taught him the history of wars and weapons more indepth than regular classes did. He had quite a few friends, though only a few close friends he often went to play games with or have sleepovers with (if you want angst, Ran was actually the one who discovered two of his friends bodies and had to report them, forcing him to go back a few times to see their bodies). Im pretty sure I mentioned it before but the brothers had a family of 6! Their mom was Ranya and was a 20% enderman hybrid, their dad was Seth and was a normal human, of course you know the brothers, their younger brother (14 years old upon death/a year younger than Ran) was named Lias and was human, and their younger sister was Memi (10 years old upon death) and was human. Ran was close to his parents, often having Ranya read him to bed and riding Seth's shoulders when he was young. He also baby sat Lias and Memi when everyone else was out, also helping them with homework and letting them sleep in his bed when nightmares happened. He loved his family and its when the murders and sabotages started happening did he choose Technoblade as his idol, to protect his family and seem intimating to whoever was doing the sabotages. 
1: When the carriage finally stopped Cletus jumped out and faceplanted onto the ground, screaming about how he was finally free and away from all the awkward tension. Grievous, Jackie, and Isaac where all close behind, all having a similar reaction. While Watson, Charles, and Benjamin had a calmer reaction simply walking out and stretching. Ran was the last to get out, and he had to be dragged out by Watson, but he fought being dragged out. He grabbed the edges of the carriage and screamed while being forced out. Ranbob was calmer, and while jumping out he accidentally landed on Grievous, forcing his head back into the dirt, who then let out a muffled shout of alarm before immediately getting up and confronting a nervous and apologetic Ranbob. 
3: He isn't the fastest at evaluating a situation, and needs ample time to make decisions. He also isnt the best at understanding emotions at times and sometimes needs a little push in a direction to understand. Also at points he gets into situations he doesnt know how to handle at all, at those times he almost shuts down with overwhelment, and the leadership tends to go to Benjamin for a while during it. 
5: Their healing potions, so they work over time, slowly working with the body to heal and regenerate, so they take longer to fully work. Poitions work generally the same (ingredient wise), but theres more steps. For a potion of harming, first you crush up and gently mix in a spiders eye into a Awkward potion, then put it on the brewing stand for 10 minutes, then after the Poison potion is made, you get another spider eye and roll it in sugar cane until the general texture changes into a more wrinkly and powder like texture, then crush that up and mix it into the Poison potion, put it in the brewing stand for at least 30 minutes, then it makes a harming potion. The process its generally the same for all the rest of the potions, though it depends on ingredients and how long they must stand on the brewing stand. 
7: I'll try doing that, thank you! Cause Grievous is a lil shit at times and encourages  violence as long as its not against him. I know you probably expect a deep answer but thats purely the only reason Grievous encourages it. It depends on what was said to Jackie, if its something that deeply and emotionally hurts Jackie, than he'd likely discourage him, instead comforting him and convincing him if he attacked the person he'll just feel worse. But if its something he knows Jackie can handle, he'll encourage Jackie to beat em up. 
8: Watson went almost everywhere, the only places he didn't go was The End, Mushroom Islands, Badlands, Ice Spikes, and Gravel Mountains (he saw them he just didn't wanna go in them), and thats because he never came across them or traveled there. He has a long bamboo that he uses to wack people over the head with when their being idiots, he has a framed nether star fragment that he found in a ruined and abandoned village (he doesnt know what it is he just knows its shiny and cool), he has some fur-lined outfits from the time spent in Tundras, and he has a book where he records locations of interesting formations he found and just a general record of stuff (how much food he has, the season, days until winter, when he should go on a supply run, etc). When Watson still lived as a kid in a village, he often went to watch the blacksmith (also the farmers, clerics, and others) and when he was old enough the blacksmith showed him how to make a multitude of weapons with different materials. And now he pushes the limits of what he's learned from that and over the years to make brand new weapons. And since I'm not sure if you where also asking about Ran, Ran only went to Plains, Covered Forest, Tundra, Savanna, and Tagia biomes. He has a dagger (specifically a Zorlin Shape dagger) that he took off of a hunter when he killed them, has parts of iron armour (shoulder and chest pieces, with the pieces that go on his shins), again some fur-lined clothes from his time in the Tundra, a selfbow, and also has a book similar to Watson's, but his has notes of potion affects,crafting recipes, mobs to avoid, etc. Visiting the nether is not common at all! Infact no vists it expect travelers or people who get hired to go in for potion ingredients and building supplies. Jackie does eventually give up painting, and instead picks up the hobby of annoying people and just training. It actually goes pretty well, there are rules put in place during it to protect them, but other than that its generally the same as the one played in our world. Jackie wants to vist those biomes because he thinks there cool, and thinks their good starting biomes to vist for a beginner adventure. Yep, Ran says its way to dangerous to go to the nether, especially with almost no one knowing how the nether works. Though actually Watson wants to bring the others into the nether, saying its a good learning experience and no one will learn how to survive if they dont go. Ran still agures its too dangerous though, citing the Piglins and Ghasts as evidence, but eventually, after much begging and negotiations, Ran agrees to let them go. They just need to listen to Ran and Watson teach them about the nether and follow everything they say to a T while in the nether. 
9: Jackie screamed while being thrown, but after that and a bit of stunned silence, he jumped up and demanded for Ran to throw him again. So he enjoys being thrown, and sometimes he specifically requests to be thrown, so he can curl into a ball and slam into people like a goddamn canon ball. Porkius was also shocked into stunned silence, but after he saw Jackie get back up and demand to be thrown again, he just started bellowing in laughter, you could hear his laughter even echoing a bit outside of the Pit. 
10: Then you may be happy to know, but I believe at the end I'll make it so after the brothers have fixed their relationship, their still being haunted by Dream, and eventually the decision gets made to go back to Mizu and face him. Where Dream has actually escaped (Due to a big group coming in, and him being able to convince them to take the Mask with them) so now they have to hunt him down. And when they finally find him you can bet someone (or multiple people) are going to punch him. 
12: He does tell the fishermen about these thoughts once, but the fishermen sadly fail at comforting him and changing those thoughts, so he decides to keep it inside and suffer in quite. Though 2 people do see his suffering, Ran and Grievous. Grievous is debating if he should step in and ask what's wrong and if he can help, while Ran just watches (though he does feel some hurt watching his brother suffer, though he denies it). 
13: They all had a blast there, Charles showed Jackie how to make flower crowns, then they went and made one for everyone else, Ran just laid in the grass and tried to relax, Ranbob eventually joined in with the flower crowns, Watson was telling Grievous all the meaning of flower colors and what certain flowers stand for, while Isaac and Cletus chased eachother around and eventually got Jackie, Grievous, and Watson involved in a game of chase. They did leave after a General battle, as that was one of the things they had to do for Porkius to approve of them leaving. Porkius still wants them back in less than 5 years, though they can take like a year or 2 longer max. Jackie is technically a general, though the general title he has is specifically only for the Pit matches and instead is more of a like final boss title. 
14: Again its very much like a abusive relationship. Ranbob believes Dream has changed because of distant whispers from Dream (only happened while they still lived at the fishermen house which is kinda-close to Mizu) promising he has changed and he truly wants to help Ranbob, and saying how he can help Ranbob be of more use to the fishermen and since Dream did actually help Ranbob at first, he wants to believe him. But once they get futher away from Mizu, the whispers disappear, only rarely appearing in his dreams. Cletus doesn't really help, not because he doesnt care but more because he doesn't know how to help, he knows its a very delicate situation and saying or doing the wrong thing could hurt more than help, so he decided to play it safe. Charles tries to help, though he provides more physical help, like hugs to ground him or showing him how to breath again, while Benjamin and Isaac tackle the more internal issues and do so comfortingly and gently. Making it so Ranbob only notices their actually helping when he starts to do things on his own and no longer has such strong and often urges to return to Dream. 
15: One night when Ranbob is off getting firewood and Ran is off checking surroundings to make sure its safe, the Hunters actually get into the camp and holds everyone at sword and bow point. Ran sees them when coming back and actually, though hesitantly, decides to wait for Ranbob to come back. And once Ranbob is back the two make a plan to rescue them, which goes mostly well. Ran gets shot in the stomach and Ranbob gets a sword through his arm, but other than that they do manage to rescue them. Watson jokingly says how they've finally made progress and that they can now work toghere without fighting now, Ran growls at this and storms away, denying it, but Ranbob just nervously shuffles and sits down, letting Charles tend to his wounds, as Jackie chases off after Ran to tend to his wounds. I really want them to stumble across the Wild West ruins and maybe The Masquerade ruins but im not sure how I'll get them to either. 
1: Haha, ouch. Poor Ran. Nice backstory though. I can only imagine how he must have felt, coming across those. Does him choosing Techno have anything to do with him choosing to enter the Pit? Also how did Ranbob feel about killing his family? We’ve talked about the guilt about hurting Ran and stuff, but about the ones who weren’t as lucky to escape?
2: That sounds like...a scene. Funny, but probably not until a few days after it happened for the people who actually had to go through it.
3: Is Isaac the type to get overwhelmed easily? But very nice to see Benjamin helping out! 
5: So basically just tossing some real life logic in there? Hmm, interesting.
7: Hope it helps! Nope, no deep answer. That’s about what I expected actually. Grievous has that energy, y’know? Also, very sweet of Ran to comfort Jackie. Does he ever get revenge on Jackie’s behalf? He doesn’t strike me as the type to let that go, especially if it actually hurt somebody he cared for. Him otherwise encouraging it..yeah, sounds about right. Gremlin children.
8: Sounds like he’s really been a lot of places! He must know a lot, huh? Also, he just...wack? Cause that’s kind of funny. He watched others beside the Blacksmith? Did he learn anything from them? Ran personally sounds very intimidating. Though if he has potion notes, does he often make them? Is there a particular reason Nether travel is no longer common? Also, would the gang ever happen to stumble across ruins from the time of the Smp? Cause that’d be kind of cool. Jackie’s new hobby sounds very nice, I hope he has fun doing it. How long does it take before Ran deems everyone ready for the Nether? And do the Fishermen also go through, or do they prefer to stick to safer grounds?
9: I bet the first time the fishermen saw that show they were surprised. And honestly, Porkius, I’d laugh too. 
10: I am happy to know that! Well, not the escape bit, but the punching, for sure! You go, guys, punch that neon green slimeball!
12: Oh no. Does Grievous ever step in?
13: Sounds like they had a good time, I’m happy for them. And a final boss title? Is Jackie like a final boss? What differs between them fighting as the general, and as a typical gladiator?
14: Hm, that’s not good. What is good is that he’s getting away from Dream’s influence. Did that have anything to do with the group deciding to head to Subbin? 
15: Well, progress is progress! Surely it’s a step in the right direction, right?
Also, not really a Brothers AU question, but as you may have noticed, I pinned a post of all the AUs on here, and I was wondering if you’d like me to put yours on there too. Obviously, I’d put it as yours. I wanted to earlier, but I figured it would be better to ask, so tell me your feelings on that.
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manchesterau · 4 years
Text
you’re in a car by leedsau
words: 1515
summary: harry thinks he knows what love means when he looks at louis.
note: i woke up inching to write someone last night. first I read a fic, which I really enjoyed. and that fic lead me into reading poetry, which naturally leaded me to read poems by richard siken. and after reading the poem im quoted below, I decided to open at google docs and start writing until I couldnt. usually I tamper down this feeling until it goes away, but this time I decided to indulge in it. and im glad I did. before writing this I was going through a bad case of writers block, but know I feel like...a weight as been lifted off my shoulders. I hope you enjoy this, and I felt like it was too short to put it on ao3 so here it is in it’s entirety. thank you to my writing gc for the encouraging words! (this is unedited)
                                                                _______________
You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for. -- richard siken
harry doesn’t know how they always end up this way. in a car while it pours down outside. the heat their bodies radiate fogging up the windows.
it’s at these moments that the world feels like it’s been paused. that it’s just him and louis and the sound of them breathing harshly. 
they had run to louis’ mum’s car with smiles on their faces and with laughter in the air. the car was the only car left in the parking lot. it’s an off green color from years of use and the interior is a dark blue, so dark it looks black. 
on a previous day some weeks ago they had ran to louis’ mum’s car with smiles on their faces and laughter in the air. they weren’t the only car in the parking lot. but the windows were foggy, and again, the world felt like it had been paused.
harry looks to louis.
it’s a tricky thing, love. what it does to people. how it can destroy you and put you back together again, sometimes all in the same day. love is fleeting but also everlasting. love is ugly and demented, but also beautiful and sane. it has many forms, taking the form of whatever it chooses that day, or that week, that month and maybe even years. sometimes people grow out of love, losing what once came so easily to them. 
harry looks away from louis.
if he thinks hard enough, strains his brain to come up with the answers to all the questions he holds, he thinks he can just about find love in everything. like his mum making his stepdad coffee in the morning every morning for five years now. or the way his mum cards her soft fingers through his hair when he's got his head on her lap. the way couples on the street move in tandem with each other. the way they unconsciously start to match, becoming a mirror, becoming one.
harry thinks he knows what love means when he looks at louis.
it didn’t start out this way. that’s what he always tells himself but he knows it’s not true. since the beginning he’s always loved louis, even when he didn't know it yet. they had always been close is the thing, closer than most anyways. and it’s sort of always been just him and louis even when it wasn't. he doesn't like to think he was just wondering his little part of earth until he found louis. he likes to think that louis had always been there and that there had been no waiting. they were just slow to come together.
the thing about love is that it comes easier to some people than others, and harry thinks that loving louis is the easiest thing he’s ever done. it’s because it isn't hard to love louis. harry actually thinks the whole world is in love with louis. it’s the way he talks to people that makes it so easy. he’s attentive and generous in the way he looks at you. he pays attention and makes sure your heard. he laughs at all your dumb jokes and teases until your smiling so wide and so big it hurts, but it’s louis so you endure the ache you feel later.
loving louis comes so naturally to harry it scares him sometimes, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if this doesn’t last. It's a scary thing to love, it takes bravery to really love someone the way they deserve to be loved. harry hopes he loves louis the way he deserves to be loved.
“hopefully the rain stops soon.” louis says.
he’s smiling, and harry can't help but smile back even when he can't bring himself to look at louis. he fears that if he looks at louis again he’ll know how he feels and then this moment will be over. the world will be unpaused and it just won't be them, stuck in louis’ mum‘s old beat up van. louis will drive harry back to his flat, and then he will drive himself home, and then he will tell his sisters about the day he’s had with harry. and harry will wait alone in his flat waiting for tomorrow when they will see each other again and pretend harry didn't have that look on his face. they will go on pretending like everything is fine. and soon harry will be old and louis will be old and he will tell his children’s children about the look he gave to a friend years before. 
“yeah, hopefully.” he says.
the sound of the thunder outside says differently. louis laughs, and harry can't help but to look at him. and he knows that louis can see that look on his face, because louis has that same look. and harry doesn’t know how to understand what that means, what even is that look. but he has a feeling he knows.
he doesn’t know how they always end up this way. it’s pouring raining outside, and yet it’s so quiet in this car. he can hear louis breathing, and he thinks if louis strained his ears enough he could hear the way harry's heart is beating. it says I think i'm in love with you. and harry hopes that's enough.
love is a tricky thing. it’s what it does to people, what it makes them do that makes it so tricky and scary. people have fought over love. people have died over love and have gotten married and had babies. people will abandon one love for another. love gives people courage to do things they'd never do in daylight when someone can see.
so while the world is paused, while it’s just him and louis in this van looking at each other saying all the things they’re too afraid to say, harry thinks about love. he hopes louis is too.
“I…“ he tries to say something but what else is there to say. he is looking at louis, and louis is looking at him. it’s raining outside, a flash of lightning illuminates everything the light can touch. louis is lit ablaze by white light. somewhere far away or maybe close by a tree is more than likely on fire, and harry doesn't have a care in the world.
louis leans over the console.
for a split second, just before their lips meet, harry thinks this is it, there is no turning back from this. and then their lips meet. and then louis is grabbing harry's hand and placing it right where his heart beats beneath his chest. and harry thinks he’s telling him: feel that? i'm in love with you too.
harry doesn't know how they always end up like this, but he thinks this is the first time where he doesn’t mind if the world unpauses, because louis doesn’t stop kissing him. he'd stay right here if he could, his hand on louis’ chest and his lips on louis’ lips. for a fleeting moment he wished he had licked his lips before hand. it makes him laugh, his silly thought. and then louis is pulling back laughing as well. and harry chases after louis as he pulls back, eager to keep kissing. and louis crashes his lips back onto harry’s.
they kiss until the sun has gone down, until the rain has stopped and it’s so cold that harry can’t feel his finger tips. he thinks he’s getting lightheaded, but it feels good. if this were his last day on earth, last hour, he thinks he would be content with it. knowing that louis loves him back.
they pull back, harry looks away from louis. there is no sound of the rain anymore to drown out the silence. the sounds of them breathing harshly through shiny spit covered lips has harry in disbelief. as much as he wants to let the words be spoken for by the way he looks at louis he has to let him know, subtle but telling looks aren't enough. he still feels like there is this weight on his shoulders.
“I love you.” harry says.
“me too.” louis says.
harry shakes his head, he knows louis understands but he has to get it out. “I love you…like the way a wife loves her husband. like…the way two people feel after they’ve gone on a honeymoon. too much but also just right at the same time. I…think i've loved you before i've even known you, it comes so naturally to me it’s scary.” he looks to louis, he’s shaking.
“me too.”
and that’s done. harry’s said what he needed to say, and even though his hand isn't over the space where louis’ heart is anymore, he thinks if he strains enough he can hear it beating. it says to him I love you more than i've loved anything on this earth. and while love is scary, it’s also wonderful. it leaves the two who are in love feeling weightless and breathless, like they can conquer the whole world together. harry feels like he just conquered the world with louis.
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blacksunscorpio · 4 years
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Scorp you're a genius! So relatable and I love how you don't judge others or anyone who comes to you for help. Keep it up! I just had to ask since I see that you make pop culture references to make analogies with astrology. You've mentioned GoT a few times and im a huge fan! Can you do a quick post on Game of Thrones characters and their potential zodiac signs? I'd love to hear your input! Thank you so much!!
Game of Thrones Characters & Their Zodiac Signs
Aries
Khal Drogo- Impulsive. Warlike. Bloodthirsty. Alpha. Conqueror. Hardcore athlete [did you see him on that horse?] Extremely sexual. Forceful. When he first meets Daenerys, he forces himself on her. Afterward, however, he is the first to go to war if he feels the people around him have been disrespected.
Aerys Targaryen- Impulsive, sadistic. Boastful. imperial. He would be the Emperor [reversed] in Tarot, lol. Not as good with being a tactician as he ought to have been. Cruel. Rage problems. The need to be the first and the best. Fire and blood, anyone?
Taurus
Maergery Tyrell - Classy, wealthy, sexy, laid-back, frank but with an air of elegance. Highgardeners have a love for the finer things in life. A love of fine wines and foods. Beautiful clothing and aesthetics. RICH RICH. Get on their bad side and they will take their time finding a way to subvert your authority.
Robert Baratheon- Love of luxury, bullheaded, strong, takes no shit. Fixed in his opinions of others, highkey jealous. In his youth, he enjoyed the gifts of Venus: Charm, wealth coming from the noble house of Baratheon, widely considered handsome by almost all in the 7 kingdoms. 
Gemini
Tyrion Lannister- Silver-tongued. HIGHKEY intelligent. Social. Charming. Great sense of humor. A freak [in the sheets]. Chatty. Always finds his way out of a sticky situation. Finds a way to use his intel to bolster diplomacy between his family and the families who hate them.
Little Finger- Cunning, quick-witted, works behind the scenes, manipulative, a  snake, jack of all trades. Top dog in the social circles of the 7 Kingdoms. There wasn’t a person who didn’t know of him and his... reputation. He singlehandedly, through his Machiavellian tactics, caused the events of Game of Thrones to unfold. 
Cancer  
Cersei Lannister- Protective, moody, caring [to her kids], motherly, cantankerous, jealous. A savage. People don’t give Cancer’s the credit they deserve in terms of what they’re capable of. Cersei is a prime example of the type of person who can show unrivaled levels of devotion to the one’s they love. “No one matters but us.” She can be cruel because she lets her emotions rule her actions. When her safety is threatened, she makes sure no one else feels safe either. She loves with a ferocity only rivaled by...
Catelyn Stark- Another mother who would die [quite literally] for her children. Fierce, Protective. Doting. JEALOUS. Let’s not forget how she treated Jon all because she believed Ned’s lie about him being a bastard. Followed her son into battle. Damn near lost her hands fighting off Bran’s would-be assassin. 
Leo
Jaime Lannister- Proud. Handsome. Princely. Funny. We seem him go from underdeveloped Leo [arrogant, selfish, bully, prideful, snob, loyal to no one but himself] to developed [Kind, helpful, warm, honest]. Fought bears for his friends. Skilled and proud fighter even without the use of both his hands. Unfortunately, his loyalty caused him to stay loyal to his twin towards the end, but such is the nature of a Leo. They’re hard-pressed to abandon those they truly care for.
Brienne of Tarth- LOYAL. Proud. Devoted. A bit of a flare for drama especially brandishing her sword. Brienne is the definition of Leonine traits. Hard to miss. Devoted to those who show her kindness, i.e Renly, Catelyn, Jaime, Sansa, etc. Always at the front lines in war screaming “STAND YOUR GROUND”. Unrivaled levels of bravery and courage. Not to be fucked with. A true Queen.
Virgo
Samwell Tarley- Intelligent. Scholarly. Methodical. Always with his nose in a book. Unproblematic king. Caught the things everyone else missed, especially when he was an apprentice in Old Towne. Figured out how to cure Jorah Mormont’s affliction on his OWN without any formal training. Genius.
Lord Varys- Remember, Virgo is also ruled by Mercury who is the most cunning of the planetary rulers. Varys always had a spy to collect intel on everyone. A tactician. Never lost his temper. Always had the scoop but didn’t partake in gossip for gossip's sake. Not afraid to be critical or tell those “in charge” his opinion. We can see this specifically when he critiques Aerys, Daenerys, and Robert. 
Libra
Davos Seaworth- a skilled diplomat. Davos is always seen seeking balance and fairness in the situations he finds himself in. The minute you see this man in a scene you know he’s going to give a moving speech and get someone out fo a sticky situation. He convinced the Iron Bank to support Stannis. Convinced Daenerys to entertain Jon Snow when they traveled to Dragonstone. Always breaking up a fight. He is in full support of law and order, especially when he called for Melisandre’s head after discovering her part in Shireen’s death [RIP.]
Rhaegar Targaryen- Had a love of music. Harmony. Balance. He brought two families together [Stark and Targaryen]. He was also blessed by Venus in my opinion because he was said to be extremely handsome. A fabulous singer. A fighter yes, but a lover first. Very good with diplomacy but not the best with defending himself against his cousin sign, Taurus [Robert Baratheon].
Scorpio
Daenerys Targaryen- Many see her as an Aries but I have to respectfully disagree. Daenerys is a Scorpio in my opinion. Remember, Scorpio is honorary fire. She was literally “reborn from the ashes”. A Phoenix, Scorpio’s final form. She went from a silent and meek girl to a skilled and commanding Empress. Unlike Arians, she did not jump headfirst into battle. It took many arrows in her dragons, many slights to her ego, copious council from her advisors, dozens of her loved ones lost for her to go nuclear. Like her father, she hungered for power, a very Scorpionic trait. However she, unlike her father, listened to reason [Jorah, Tyrion, and Barristan Selmy]. She had a long fuse until she didn’t, and then that’s when she rained fire and blood on everyone in King’s Landing. She was skilled at retribution and was unapologetic with it *cough* the Tarleys *cough*.. Unlike Arians who pop off at the drop of a hat, she gave her enemies fair warning if/when they crossed her.
Arya Stark- You already know what it is with this one. Arya is pretty much death [Pluto], personified. Stealthy. A tactician. VENGEFUL. I think we all fist-pumped when she served Filch Walder Frey his sons in that pie. Never forgets a slight. Keeps a list of people who’ve wronged her [All Scorpios can probably relate]. You never see her coming. She is “no-one”. She is the assassin that slips through the back. She may seem calm at first but trust that she has been planning your downfall for a while. LOYAL. The definition of a Scorpio.
Melisandre- Dark. Mysterious. Unafraid of the occult. So much of her life is unknown and I’m sure that’s how she preferred it. Even her Lord of light was mysterious. Strong supernatural abilities and highkey psychic. Knew immediately how many “eyes” Arya would “close.” Had ties to the underworld which is demonstrated with her ability to resurrect the dead. Came through at the clutch in the last battle wielding fire [Mars] with her witchcraft. It’s no secret that Scorpios are some of the most skilled in sorcery.
Sagittarius
Missandei- Exotic. From Naath which is an island just above the mysterious continent of Sothoryos. A world traveler. Lucky enough to escape slavery [until the end]. Jupiter's influence is here in my opinion because she is so kind and friendly. Also a polyglot and gifted with the ability to speak 19 languages. Her fire is seen at the end of the series when she tells her best friend “Dracarys”-- meaning “fire” in High Valyrian. She isn’t afraid to call wrath down on others.
Olenna Tyrell- Loud, unapologetically blunt, zero-filter, feisty. Olenna to me is the definition of Sagittarius. Always speaks her mind. Clap back queen. Will call you out. Was also quite promiscuous in her younger years. Very charismatic and extremely likable despite her penchant for saying whatever was on her mind.
Capricorn
Tywin Lannister- I can’t see the patriarch of the most notorious family in Westeros being anything other than a Capricorn. Methodical. Structured. Business-minded. Karmic [A "Lannister always repays his debts"] Cold. Cruel. Unfeeling. Like Saturn, he is the father figure. Basically ran the 7 Kingdoms for Aerys, [which was probably why the latter was so salty towards him.] Always has a plan. The man you want in charge if we’re strictly talking about law and order. Vindictive [had the mountain kill Elia because Rhaegar rejected Cersei.] He’s the ultimate son-of-a-bitch.
Jon Snow- Brooding hero that he is, Bae Jon Snow is without a doubt a Capricorn in my eyes. Duty-bound. Serious. A leader in his own right. Could also be cold and unfeeling in terms of distributing karmic justice. Lest we forget the “fetch-me-a-block” situation with Janos Slynt. In addition, the moment he was resurrected he took vengeance against the black brothers who betrayed him. Saturn, Like Pluto, is all about karmic justice. The beating he put on Ramsey after The Battle of the Bastards was one thousand percent a karmic beating. A proper lover as well, according to Ygritte, Jon also knew how to handle himself in the bedroom, a trait very akin to Capricorns.
Aquarius
Bran Stark- I thought about making Bran a Pisces, but then I changed my mind. Remember Uranus rules sudden insights and hardcore psychic receptivity. It also rules sudden and unexpected catastrophes or surprises/ sudden breaks. Bran suffered a literal “tower” moment at the beginning of the series which resulted in his psychic powers developing. Once he became the three-eyed raven, he became very detached from the world.
Grey Worm- Aquarius is also androgynous. Grey Worm is a eunuch. He is always down to fight for a cause though, specifically his queen’s. Cares about others, specifically Missandei, and was seen towards the latter season speaking up for the Unsullied against the slavers. Fierce combatant but also very detached. His job is his job.
Pisces
Jaqen H’ghar- Much like Neptune, Pisces’ ruler Jaqen has a mysterious and illusive personality. He wears “many faces”. Skilled at illusion and very very intuitive. Has a soft side though which is clearly seen with how he treats Arya. Hardly ever flies off the handle. Calm. Cool. Collected.
Hodor- Sweet and gentle giant, Hodor is a Pisces to me. Affected by psychic trauma, it’s revealed why “Hodor” is the only thing he can say. Calm. A bit of a baby. Caring. Easily adaptable [think of all the terrain he carried Bran through]
Eddard Stark- I don't care what anyone says, Ned stark to me represents the most developed form of a Pisces. Like the Hanged-Man in Tarot that represents sacrifice and which Neptune Rules, he willingly sacrificed his reputation as honorable for his sister, Lyanna. He later sacrifices himself for his children when he died at Joffrey’s [little bitch] command. He is wise. Though appears cold, he is actually a well of feeling and caring. Unfortunately, he also suffered from the naivety of Neptunian influence which is why he wasn’t very skilled at the Game of Thrones, which calls for more tactical ruthlessness. Pisceans however also have the rage of Poseidon flowing through their veins [which people like to forget]. This was displayed when he pinned Petyr Baelish to the Wall in King’s Landing for daring to dishonor Cat by inviting her into a Brothel. RIP, King Stark.
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