#that he can’t bring himself to treat the heart foundation like more than a part time gig. because he’s convinced it has to fall apart on him

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

man sometimes i think about life series bigb and his abandonment issues. man.

[collisiondiscourse]

battle scars || a deku & class 1-A drabble

(A quick drabble talking about members of class 1-A, the scars they share, and the love that heals them. TW for descriptions of violence and both external and internal injuries.)

There isn't a single hero that Deku knows of who doesn't have scars.

They aren't stigmatized, no not at all. No one who's ever seen a hero in action before thinks that scars are ugly. In hero society, scars are celebrated. Admired, adored, worshipped--whatever connotates the wearer to something positive. In a world where suffering and self-sacrifice are glorified, scars are a mark of beauty.

Even then though, Izuku Midoriya can't help but think that his scars are better off hidden.

He knows, god does he know, that everyone has their own wounds and injuries. Little divots here, the occasional prosthetic there--everyone he knows is marked in some way that reminds the world that they are still human where it matters. They aren't gods or faces off a product--just average traumatized people who unfortunately love humanity more than they love themselves.

Class 1-A being no exception.

Mina, for example, has burns. Big burns, small burns, burns of all shapes and sizes that litter her body like the pattern of the hero costume she wears. A few too many evil scientists with interests in chemistry like to think that their knowledge gives them the upper hand, but the Alien Queen always proves them wrong.

One of her horns is chipped, and when she gets drunk she admits that her sense of sight might be going. Sometimes, the scars sting, but the sweet ache of her body as she nails another dance routine reminds her that there's more to the world than how people look. When she begins to forget that, Kirishima claps loudly as she lands another pirouette.

Kaminari is dotted from head to toe in Lichtenberg scars. It's something that surprises no one, and something the blond feels no shame in showing off at any given moment. The lightning patterned marks are most prevalent along his forearms and palms, every hug from him feeling rough but safe nonetheless.

Occasionally, due to one too many brain fries, he'll have days where his mind doesn't seem like it's all there and memories fade like footprints in the sand. On those days, Denki lays down and Jirou runs her hands through electric blond hair while humming a soft and sweet tune.

Kirishima's scars run like cracks. They splinter and have ridges that look very much like his own quirk. Most of them are very faint and shallow, getting more focused and deep around his chest and forearms as he held firm against countless unrelenting attacks.

After one too many nosebleeds, the red-head finds out that he's way more prone to internal wounds from the way his organs deal with shock absorption less adaptively than his skin and bones do. Eijirou's tense muscles eventually learn to relax under the gentle caring massages from an exasperated Mina.

Iida, on the other hand, has a prosthetic. An unfortunate and horrible incident left him missing half a leg after pissing off a Stain-inspired villain who was a little too much like her idol. He's much less scarred (a benefit of his full-bodied armor), but Deku still sometimes sees the way he struggles to breathe.

Internal scars from internal wounds similar to Kirishima's make his body sometimes forget that he's stopped running. Tenya wears these scars with responsibility and blushes whenever he greets an enthusiastic Hatsume Mei for his monthly prosthetic maintenance check.

Uraraka has scars all over her fingers. Nicks and slices from where people tried to render her quirk useless by taking off a finger. She has a star-shaped mark on the right side of her forehead from where a building caved in and shattered her helmet.

Neat little slashes run up and down her ankles and soles of her feet from lucky shots people had before she floated away. Ochako wears these scars with ferocity and pride, adorning them in pink band-aids that Toga sometimes scratches at when the brunette comes to visit her in jail.

Todoroki is... a little different. The scar over his right eye is a lot more faded, yet still there. It grew up with him, healed and faded at the edges like the wounds in his heart, but not forgotten because of how it made him who he is. He has burns of all types adorned around his body--caused either by his own quirk or others.

He also often gets sick when he overexerts himself like the hopeless workaholic Big Three member he is. Yaoyorozu and Inasa visit him on those sick days, bringing light and chicken soup into his big empty home.

Bakugou's a lot similar to Deku. Their families and friends have noticed that if you put a diagram of their bodies side by side with markings of their injuries, it wouldn't exactly be a mirror image, but seemingly two parts of a puzzle clicking together. The blond had all sorts of scars around his body, a hazard that came with the title of Japan's Symbol of Victory.

There were deep lashes on his back, marks of muzzles and handcuffs from attempt after attempt of kidnappings and ransom hostages. On his forearms were twin bracelet scars, from an especially ruthless villain that attempted to cut his hands off in an effort to eliminate his quirk. Over his torso were two faint pink marks shaped like explosions, both from the first time he sacrificed himself for Deku.

Bakugou had similar aches on his shoulders and neck from overuse and recoil whenever he'd pushed himself too quick and too soon. Kacchan would scoff at the notion of hiding his scars and treat the pain with a quick home-cooked meal, fingers twitching when Deku would plop himself on the counter and ask about his latest shift.

But Deku?

Deku hid well. He hid because it was his habit to deceive and alter his appearance--covering things up with a simple black arm band because in the grand scheme of things there were some secrets best left unseen. Deku wore long sleeves and concealer over his skin like it was a suit of armor, hiding the rawest parts of him because even as he grew and climbed his way to the top, a part of him always remembered that the burden he carries is too heavy to let be seen.

So he hides.

He hides the way burns litter his skin from trying to contain the inferno that is OfA and walking through fire to bring civillians home. He hides the Lichtenberg scars and the way green lightning sometimes crackles hard enough to make him flinch as he fights his way through unbeatable hoards of enemis. He hides the prosthetics, the way his arms gave out on him quite a while ago, forcing them to be replaced and improved. He hides the way people have tried to tear him apart and steal his burden for themselves.

One for All was his greatest gift and most painful curse.

Some nights he trembles and shakes, muscles spasming in effort to just simply keep going. Shivers run up and down his spine because with every injury his blood circulation worsens and worsens until cold and pain is all that he feels. Izuku will sometimes walk around, scars hurting and throbbing hot white under his skin, and look for medication that dulls the ache and makes him go a little less crazy.

Hands mindlessly running over bumps and edges, scars from villains and friends and debris and growth spurts. He would stand in front of a mirror like a house of cards and pull himself apart, reflection making him detest himself from how gnarled and ugly and imperfect he was.

"--No, my boy. Not imperfect." The tall and gaunt figure of his old mentor would tut. Thin and skeletal fingers would grasp the bottom of a white shirt and lift it up, gently revealing a scar so deep it almost looks like a crater. "Not imperfect at all. For people like us, your scars make you far more than just a hero."

Deku, of course, would hum in resignation. He looks at All Might--no, Toshinori Yagi with a skeptical look and the retired hero would smile.

"You are... a miracle."

And just like that, Deku would be brought back to being 14 years old, quirkless and desperate. He's on his knees, looking at the Symbol of Peace in his true form--thin and pale but still oh so powerful. A voice tells him that there is a destiny he has far greater than he'll ever realize, an adventure that awaits him through the old skinny man with unruly blond hair.

Izuku didn't see weakness that day, no.

He saw hope.

So now, even as Pro-Hero Deku hides away the parts of himself that are broken and raw from the world he protects, he finds his cure all the same. In the arms of those who are warm and familiar, Deku sheds his armor, his foundation, his long sleeves--

and he is simply Izuku.

He is Izuku who gets spa days and yoga sessions with Ashido, Denki, and Eijirou that stops his muscles from spasming on days where it gets unbearable. He is Izuku who gets tender massages and hearty midnight snack runs with Ochako and Tenya when nightmares and visions just won't let him sleep. He is Izuku who gets soup and warm borrowed hoodies from Shouto and Kacchan when stress makes him keel over and shudder at the thought of working. He is Izuku who gets big warm hugs and a fierce movie marathon with his loving mother and mentor who is his father in all but name.

He is Izuku, riddled with scars that still heal.

[reylofanfictionanthology]

TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!  

Authors will be revealed next week!  For now all fics are anonymous.  Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21.  We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings.  It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew.  He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again.  Was leaving worth it?  Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

 “I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head.  “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work.  I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

 “But?”

 “But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

[whosscruffylooking]

Instinct Part Two: Interrogations and Intrigue (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: I'm super excited for this part. Spencer and Reader’s relationship finally has some foundation!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings! Mentions of suicide and manipulation. 

(Reader’s POV)

I tap my foot anxiously as I peer around the bland and intimidating interrogation room. It looks like something out of a mental asylum in a 1980's horror movie. They want me frightened? They got me.

Count Dracula barges in abruptly and sits opposite from me. I wince at the sound of the metal chair scraping against the cement floor.

“My name is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I'd like to take a moment to get your description of the man who broke into your apartment," he shows no emotion.

I nod, "Well, he had his hood up and a bandana on, but from what I could tell, he had green eyes...maybe blue...or hazel. I'm sorry, I'm not a hundred percent sure. He was just a little bit taller than me, so maybe 5'8 or 9. He climbed out of my window, so clearly, he's at least slightly athletic. He disguised his voice; he made it sound almost like Batman."

He writes down some notes. A statement that the other agent presented to me at the crime scene puzzles me. I decide to inquire for myself.

"The other agent..." "Dr. Reid?" "No, Emma? Emily?" "Yes, Agent Prentiss." "Yes, her. She told me at the ambulance that I might be the key to solving this. What did she mean by that? This wasn't just a one-off robbery? How could it involve me?"

He purses his lips, obviously pondering the right response, "What do you know of the Nomad Boys?"

My heart rate rises, but I promptly disguise my anxiety. "You get straight to the point, don't you," I quip, "I know that they used to operate about a block from my old neighborhood growing up. A lot of people have lost their lives because of them. Both figuratively and literally."

"Are you aware of your brother's involvement with them?" Agent Hotchner examines me.

I gasp. What kind of game is he playing here? I shift uneasily in my seat, "Excuse me?"

"We have significant evidence that your brother Jeremy was involved with the Nomad Boys from 2015 until his death."

I slam my fist on the table, "How dare you. How dare you bring my brother up and implicate him in illegal activities that he had no part in. Is this what you people do? You're so desperate to close a case that you can't admit defeat in then you pin it on people who aren't even here to defend themselves?"

"You seem relatively defensive yourself. Care to explain why?" The emotionless man taunts.

"Two hours ago, I was the victim of a failed robbery, and now I'm being interrogated by the feds about my dead brother? Is that not a good enough reason to get defensive?" I clamor back. 

Tears sting my eyes and threaten to spill over as I dig my fingernails into the palm of my hand, trying frantically to suppress my growing rage. He watches me like a predator to its prey. The sound of my rapid heartbeat muffles my hearing. I can feel my skin heat up with anger. I stare right back, eager to display my disdain for his treatment.

"If you'd excuse me," he gathers his files and leaves the room. I exhale shakily and hastily wipe the stray tears from my eyes, desperate to gain my composure.

(Spencer's POV)

Hotch exits the interrogation room and clutches my shoulder, "You're up. She knows more than she's letting on, even if she doesn't realize it. She will feel more comfortable with you." "Hotch...I-I feel like maybe Emily or Morgan should go in. Not me." "Why?" He glares at me. I swallow the lump in my throat. 

I have a job to do.

"Forget about it," I say, stepping past him into the dimly lit room. She looks up at me with pleading eyes, silently begging me not to put her through what Hotch did. I sit across from her, noticing her obsessive picking at the skin of her fingers. Her knee bounces and lightly taps against the underside of the table.

She takes a deep breath and breaks the stillness, "Whatever it is they are thinking, it's not true. None of it is true. They're wrong." 

"Y/N, I appreciate your willingness to cooperate and come back to the precinct with us and sit in here to be interviewed." 

She throws her head back and laughs, "My willingness to cooperate?Interviewed? You mean interrogated, right?"

"I know this must feel like an ambush," I say, and she jeers, "but I promise if you just hear us out, the sooner we can rule you and your brother out of this." 

She sits up, eyes wide, her posture defensive, "You just said my brother and me. Am I a suspect too? For god's sake, I don't even know what we are suspected of! Do you think I'm apart of the Nomad Boys too?" 

Strike one, Spencer. Don't screw up again.

"I didn't mean it like that, y/n." 

"But you said it," she crosses her arms.

"I need to ask you some questions about your brother's death." 

"I'm going to be sick. Screw you, Dr. Reid." 

I can't manipulate her. I don't want to. I can't use months of researching her to achieve our agenda. 

It doesn't feel right. Why doesn't it feel right? 

But for the efficiency and success of this case, it's required.

"Every day, you wake up in fear of the nightmares that haunt you each night. You live with the images of your brother engrained in your mind. The patterns he used to follow every day have now been adopted by you, most likely in an attempt to keep his spirit alive somehow. You are constantly looking over your shoulder because, still to this day, aspects of his death leave you unsettled and uncertain. You opened the door today because you were under the impression that the person on the other side would be able to offer you insight into your brother's death. He couldn't because he had another agenda, but I can. I can give you that insight; I just need you to work with me." 

I watch as she struggles to fight the pain that comes from masking her fear. I got to her. 

Why do I feel so guilty? 

Her lip trembles as she begins to speak, "I know he didn't kill himself. That's all." "What makes you so sure?"

She releases a sob and then grapples with composing herself, "B-because he loved his family. He loved life. His girlfriend was pregnant; he was going to be a father. What kind of man who was so family-oriented and had such a bright future ahead of him would do that to himself, to his future child?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize he had a child." "Aren't you guys supposed to know stuff like that? Shouldn't you come in here armed and ready with any ammunition needed to break me down?" She cocks her head. "We do. We try to find out all vital information on our suspects and those connected with them." "That's how you know that I follow the same routine as my brother? Have you been watching me?"

I can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of my neck; I reach my hand around to pat it off and to buy myself time to come up with a sufficient answer. She chuckles, "You don't have to answer that. I've seen you and Count Dracula in there tailing me."

My heart stops, and I swallow unexpectedly, slightly choking in the process. "For professionals, you sure don't take into consideration the fact that most people are suspicious of black SUVs now...mainly because of tv shows. Black Suburbans with tinted windows are either law enforcement or a celebrity. And judging by the fact that no celebrity would ever willingly set foot in my town, I was quickly able to determine which I was looking at every Monday and Friday from 10am to 5:30pm. You should really try getting some red cars, maybe blue, just try and blend in a bit." 

"Actually," I begin falling back on my knowledge as a way to diffuse the situation, "Any vehicle, when suitably modified, can be utilized as a police vehicle, but the most prevalent are those produced or altered by manufacturers for the role of being a police vehicle."

"Validation and dissemination: am I making you uncomfortable, Dr. Reid?" She raises her eyebrow. I adamantly shake my head, "Not at all. I was merely dissecting your point and proving it to be a failed tactic to intimidate me."

She looks at me keenly, but not in the way she had looked at Hotch. No, she peers at me as if striving to convey a message, an offer to be her ally. While locked into her gaze, I can't help but study her. Contrary to all of the times we followed her, hidden within the shelter of our car, I can now learn her up close. She is attractive in a flawed, approachable way. Her vulnerability camouflages a might that even she doesn't perceive exists.

(Reader's POV)

I study him thoroughly. He baffles me. A man in the station he is, maintaining the job he has, and bearing the weight of both victims and perpetrators on his shoulders, should be coarse, bitter, emotionless, much like the first agent who grilled me. Yet, here he is, eyes lighting up when he starts to spout off facts. His nervous ticks overflow, making it seem like he is incapable of withholding the truth of what this job does to him. He doesn't want to put me in this position. He's not like the standard brute that treats this job, and it's prey as if they are nothing but a bridge to walk over to get appreciation and approval.

"I want to help you," he proposes in a hushed tone.

"I know," I whisper, easing back in my seat. 

Unexpectedly, he offers me a wink and then stands from his chair. Stepping over to the door, he clasps the doorknob but delays for a moment. I look at him in anticipation. Looking back at me, he declares, "I'm going to get you answers. I promise you that." And with that, he's disappeared behind the two-way glass. A feeling of being left alone in an alternate universe overwhelms me. 

Spencer is somewhere out there on the side of the good guys, his reputation untainted, with the certainty that he will be going home tonight. I, on the other hand, have lived in uncertainty since my brother died. Here I sit, on the side of the glass that is riddled with darkness and evil. Spencer lives in a world of heroes. But I have been subjected to the world of criminals. I have a feeling, though, that I won't have to navigate it alone. 

Tag list:

@mcntsee

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff,  angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood  trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of  addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of  blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​​, @kittenofdoomage​​, @manawhaat​​, @waywardbeanie​​, @atc74​​​​​, and @winchest09​​​​​ for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999​​​​​, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam​​​​​, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff. 

     Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

     The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

     “Are you leaving?”      She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like.      “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly.      “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--”      “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

     Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

     “Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe. 

     The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

     Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

     Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

     A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange. 

     He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t  allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

     Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

     Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

     Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity. 

     Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether. 

     Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

     “Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet.      Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed.      “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--”      “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps. 

     It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist.      “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath.      Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

     “You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.”      “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath.      “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

     With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less. 

     Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

     “Dean?”      He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice.      “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand.      “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well.      “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

     Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one.      “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank.      “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

     Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

     “Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice.      “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

     Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience.      Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

     Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway. 

     The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time.      “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth.      “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.”      “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers.      Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?”      Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.”      “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

     The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is. 

     The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

     The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it. 

     The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?”      “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.      “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

     Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind. 

     “You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders.      “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

     Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.”      His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?”      “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.”      Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.”      “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

     “What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?”      “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns.      “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.”      “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler.      Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?”      “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.”      “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?”      “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

     Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

     Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

     The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?”      “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.”      “Will do.” 

     Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss.      “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

     Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

     “Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless.      “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?”      “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down.      His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

     With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

     “Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.”      “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--”      “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

     “There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.”      “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it. 

     His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

     Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on.      “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

     Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

     While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up.      “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.”      “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?”      “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

     The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off.      “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.”      “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

     He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

     “When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence.      “It was Cain.”

     He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home.      “How is he doing?” he wonders.      Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

     Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

     “Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.” 

     The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

     “Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.”      “Dean--”      “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.”      He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?”      “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

     The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

     Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

     Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

     After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off. 

     The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

     Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life. 

     Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

     After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

     Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

     Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one. 

     Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings. 

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if   you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog   my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

[highfaelucien]

I completely agree with how you feel towards azriel. Thinking about azriel’s character now vs how I used to view him during acomaf times is just... sad and so so so much more complex. Part of me still wants to love him for the character that was presented to us in acomaf and other small good moments, like his friendship with nesta. And then the other part of me is disgusted, disappointed, and honestly kind of terrified of who he may become if sjm allows him to continue acting predatorily/toxic. The whole mor/az situation really fucked me up. As someone who is also a lesbian and an abuse survivor, it broke my heart to watch the situation unfold in acowar. It still hurts seeing many readers (and sometimes even sjm) take az’s side and paint mor as some sort of liar/two faced character that is playing everyone. I kept thinking that things would be fixed in future books, but instead az has grown worse and mor was, once again, sidelined and written out as a character. And honestly... as much as I love the idea of gwyn x azriel ... I think his books would need a lot more focus on his own recovery/growth and not center on a romantic relationship. If anything, I hope it’s written as friends to lovers so az has a better way of interacting and forming relationships with women. Because right now... well, that shit is borderline predatory and isn’t coming across well. And I really really do not want that for him. Basically, azriel deserves a better arc than what has been written for him. I miss him :( he used to be a character that made me feel safe and now :/ idk anymore

I'm going to quote parts of this/chop it up and reply to them a chunk at a time. because there's a lot going on here and I want to try and reply to as much as I can because I resonate with.....all of it. Please forgive me for the length of this.

I completely agree with how you feel towards azriel. Thinking about azriel’s character now vs how I used to view him during acomaf times is just... sad and so so so much more complex.

He feels like a different character? There was always an anger simmering under the calm surface, we knew that. But it was an anger born of love, deep down, and the desire to protect his family, and his court, at the expense of himself. Az was always the first to volunteer himself for dangerous missions, to spare the others.

Now that anger is directed at his family, and at the world, for not giving him what he feels he 'deserves'. That has NEVER been Azriel. Azriel's deepest issues and insecurities have always stemmed from the feeling of being unworthy, and undeserving of anything.

She's just made him into......Every other dude in this series tbh. Snarling, and possessive, and wanting to fuck anything in a skirt that moves.

Azriel was actually somewhat of an original, complex character initially. It's unusual that we see trauma affect men in the way it did Az. Usually it makes them angry, and vengeful, and eager to prove they are the alpha etc. Seeing them withdraw, and think less of themselves/that they're unworthy is something not explored often enough. But bye bye nuance hello #Drama.

Part of me still wants to love him for the character that was presented to us in acomaf and other small good moments, like his friendship with nesta.

I feel this. I found a lot of comfort in Az's character. Particularly the way he reacted with Mor. I was a big fan of their relationship, and I wrote a few 'missing scenes' style fics in the gap between ACOMAF and ACOWAR. One of them was where Az went to her when she had pushed everyone else away, including Cassian, and comforted and calmed her.

I hate that Maas took that away from Mor. I hate that Az no longer does that for her. I hate that Az was the one to betray her along with Rhys and bring her abuser into her safe space behind her back. I hate that he is no longer a symbol of calm, stable, dependable comfort and support for Mor, but is instead a threat. I HATE it.

Every now and then Az has lovely, gentle moments - his friendship with Nesta is a good example, and something I hoped we'd see. But also quieter times with Rhys, and their similarities being explored. And I adored the flying lessons with Feyre in ACOWAR, and the training he did with Cassian and the others in ACOFS.

But then she goes and twists him and does something else that just makes me want to fucking scream. Like the High Lord scene where he 'frightened' Mor. And his entire POV chapter which is frankly fucking gross.

And then the other part of me is disgusted, disappointed, and honestly kind of terrified of who he may become if sjm allows him to continue acting predatorily/toxic.

I agree.

I don't know how she can write a series that explores the effects of emotional abuse so well with Feyre and Tamlin...And then write what she did with Az?

The possession to a traumatised, still impressionable and desperate young woman, who likely finds the same comfort and safety in him that Mor did. Before that got shot to fucking pieces.

He sounds like a whiny toddler 'Cassian has a mate, and Rhys has a mate, where is mine!?!?!?!?' I DESERVE Elain, because I'm your brother and you guys have her sisters and what the FUCK. Who let that shit get published holy mother of god.

It's just...It's so unhealthy? Like, not even talking ship wars here (which I'm aware are rampant, and which I'm trying my best to stay away from). But that just.

How can that ever be a healthy foundation for a relationship? A man who thinks that he deserves, not only to be in a relationship with her, but to be bonded to her. Not because of HER, not because of who she is, or how she makes him feel. No. Purely because her sisters are mated to his brothers?

The whole thing made me feel so uncomfortable. It's predatory and toxic, just as you said. It's not right, it's not fair. Forget alliances and Lucien, even if none of that was a factor, that sort of thinking is still not right. And it's completely unfair to Elain.

But it also just. It didn't read like Azriel. The first part, where he struggles to sleep, and pushes himself until he passes out, and the insight that his shadows are basically hovering beside him screaming SELF CARE YOU DUMB BITCH at all times was very pleasing.

And the part where he goes to Clotho and leaves an anonymous gift for Gwyn. No fanfair. No audience. No pressure on either of them to react/perform. That felt like Az, too.

But everything in the middle. Everything with Elain, was just...Gross and out of character. And this is not because I dislike E/riel as a ship. I could get on board with it, tbh, if it wasn't written the way it was.

But it's not about ships, for me. It's just. Everything felt out of character. The predatory way he was with her. The fact he lies awake and gets himself off to fantasies of her. How apparently quickly he was aroused by putting a necklace on her. Idk, maybe it's my ace ignorance, but that doesn't sound normal/healthy to me.

Nor does him having to leave a room because he can scent her mating bond with Lucien. Or not being able to control himself to sit and eat dinner with her?

This is the same dude who has, apparently, been in love with Mor for 500 solid years, and who never did a damned thing about it. Who always kept himself in check. Even while she's had other lovers. But he can't control himself through one dinner with Elain?

It just. It doesn't feel like him. It feels like...Honestly not even Cassian. It feels like Tamlin on horny, predatory steroids. And that's not something I ever wanted to see from Azriel's POVs.

She could have explored a darker side to him without making it sexual? And misogynistic. And having him treating Elain as little more than a fucking object that he feels entitled to because 'everyone else got one, where's mine?'. What the FUCK???

The more I write it the more angry I get.

Because SJM has consistently put Az in the position of saving women when they were in danger? He was the one who found Mor near death at Autumn. He was the one who rescued Gwyn from her attackers during the war. He was the one to retrieve Elain when she was taken.

She always puts him in this position and, for better or worse, presents him as a safety figure for these women. The first person who they saw come for them, and fight for them, and protect them.

And on the inside she makes him this vile, predatory monster who just thinks constantly about fucking them? Who isn't actually safe at all?? It's sad. And it's infuriating. Because this isn't about ships anymore. This is about female survivors who have an apparent safe person who's presented as almost as dangerous as the people who attacked them in the first place. And that makes me feel so sick and sad that we've gotten here.

It still hurts seeing many readers (and sometimes even sjm) take az’s side and paint mor as some sort of liar/two faced character that is playing everyone. I kept thinking that things would be fixed in future books, but instead az has grown worse and mor was, once again, sidelined and written out as a character.

This is yet another vile thing SJM has done to queer readers with this whole fiasco. Because it puts me in a position where I want to call out her shitty writing, and what she's done to Mor - sidelining her as soon as she became queer. Undermining her power and her strength. Undermining her role as the survivor to look up to. Saying her power is truth but then making her seem like a liar. Which is all shitty, shitty, shitting writing.

But I'm also a queer person. And I will always always ALWAYS want to defend a queer person's right to remain closeted. Regardless of their reasons for doing so. But in this case it's a concern for their safety/a fear of how those around them will react. And I will NEVER condemn that. I will never say Az is suffering more than Mor for her being closeted. I will never call Mor a liar/a manipulator/two-faced when all she's doing is trying to survive.

I WILL condemn SJM for making this a scenario. For putting homophobia in her world purely to cause pain for queer characters, and drama for her straight ones. And for sidelining Mor as soon as she can't write graphic scenes with her fucking men because now she's a lesbian so we best get her off the page so the guys can get their cocks out some more.

And honestly... as much as I love the idea of gwyn x azriel ... I think his books would need a lot more focus on his own recovery/growth and not center on a romantic relationship. If anything, I hope it’s written as friends to lovers so az has a better way of interacting and forming relationships with women. Because right now... well, that shit is borderline predatory and isn’t coming across well. And I really really do not want that for him.

This is going to sound sarcastic but I actually mean it fully and completely genuinely: 95% of the drama inducing problems in this series could be fixed with some fucking therapy.

But I agree with you. I think it's high time Azriel worked on his own issues. Even if they've apparently made a complete 180 from what they were in ACOMAF.

I...Like the concept of Gwyn/Azriel, but I'm not sold on the ship. Not with the way Maas has been writing Azriel lately. That kind of man shouldn't be with any woman right now. But especially not a rape survivor who sees him as one of the first men she's been able to trust in a long time.

Basically, azriel deserves a better arc than what has been written for him. I miss him :( he used to be a character that made me feel safe and now :/ idk anymore

"he used to be a character that made me feel safe" - This shit hit me like a tonne of bricks because this is EXACTLY how I feel about Az, too. You just managed to say it in a few words instead of 12 pages of rambling, like I do.

And I think this was intention. Azriel was presented as a very dependable character. He rescued Mor, and was respectful enough to keep his distance, despite his feelings, for 500 fucking years. Because he didn't think she was ready/interested.

He had a very calm, and calming air about him. Always in control of himself. Without the expected bursts of aggression and temper we'd seen from...Every other male character in this series. He was stable, and solid, and that was comforting. An anchor. And someone who would quietly, and without fuss, seek out Mor/others when they needed someone to talk to or comfort him.

That was a very soothing, reassuring presence in the book, I felt. And now she's made him seem...volatile, and unstable. With this dangerous anger that he can't control, that he uses not to protect, but to intimidate, and to fuel his entitlement and desires.

it's just sad. It's sad that she's taken this away from Mor, but also from other survivors who found comfort and safety in Az. Because I'm sure we weren't alone in that regard.

I miss him. And I mourn the character he was, and feel anger for the character he should have been. but instead he's become yet another possessive, entitled, snarling cardboard cutout dude like...everyone else.

And I ache for the Az/Mor dynamic that we had in ACOMAF. Even without it becoming romantic, there was no reason for that to be destroyed/ruined.

She could have written it that Az is the only one who knows about her sexuality, and that he pretends he's still in love with her as a shield/buffer, so no one looks too closely/to protect her and make her feel comfortable.

Instead she turned it into a soap opera style drama. And wrote it almost as though her sexuality was her cheating on him? Denying him what he deserved. And now she's just...just pussyfooting around it. And apparently he's just. Just moved on. Without them having any kind of conversation or closure at all. He just wanks off to the thought of Elain instead of Mor, now, problem solved /s

I miss what they were. I miss what he was to Mor. I miss when she had that support system, and that safety net. I miss when he protected her. And looked out for her. And understood her in a way that no one else, not even Rhys, did.

Mor deserved that. Azriel deserved that. WE deserved that. And she nuked it for some fucking twisted drama that punishes a lesbian because a man is thirsting after her. it's a fucking disgrace. I'm so fucking done with SJM, y'all. So fucking done.

[mugiwara-rosewolf]

Alphabet Headcanons

One Piece Edition

Portgas D. Ace

SFW

A= Affection (How affectionate are they with an s/o?)

Ace is a charismatic, kind-hearted man, and with an s/o he’s the consummate gentleman. Especially in the beginning, Ace will check in to see/find out what’s okay with you and what’s not.

For example, let’s say the two of you are walking down the street at a village market. If you feel his pinky twine with yours, the motion will be quickly followed by his warm breath murmuring in your ear; “Is this okay?”

Needless to say, if you reply by intertwining your hand entirely with his, Ace will be over-the-moon and beaming for the rest of the trip. If twining pinkies is all you can handle in public, that’s okay too. Ace will still be happy knowing that you trust him with your boundaries.

Once he knows you’re okay with physical affection, little gestures like these will slowly become the norm. He’ll hold your hand everywhere if you let him. He loves kissing every inch of your face when you’re looking especially cute.

The closer the two of you become, the more he’ll want to show how much he loves you. Whether it’s wrapping an arm around your waist/shoulders, or a fleeting kiss on the cheek--if you allow it, PDA will quickly become one of his favourite things.

As for when he wants affection from you--it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll let on how he’s feeling. He usually hides his bad moods pretty well. But what you’ll learn over time is that he often looks for affection when he’s feeling down.

Sometimes he’ll ask to hold your hand or go in for a hug (often silently, he does tend to get quiet on these kinds of days) and has a hard time letting go once you do. In public, he’ll often opt for the former, because in private he won’t have to let go of you unless you ask him to. 

Other times it’s him just giving you a look. In public, he plays it off as a ‘suave’ eyebrow lift, like an open invite from Casanova. (Though the smile typically gives him away--he’s not always as smooth as he wants to be). In private, it’s the infamous sad, silent, yearning puppy-dog eyes following you around (you know it’s a real bad day when he’s just staring off into space with that look on his face).

All in all, Ace is a very tactile, and affectionate partner. But he will always be sure to confirm what kinds of gestures you’re comfortable with so as not to overwhelm you. He wants you to be comfortable and enjoy his loving gestures whenever possible.

B=Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?)

Okay, there are two sure-fire ways to really impress this boi. 

First is with your kickass skills. If you can match him or beat him at something, this man will definitely take notice. It could be a physical skill, maybe matching him in a fighting or eating contest. It could be verbal skill--like when you’re roasting his arse for his damned-reckless behaviour. Either way is damn sure to capture Fire Fist’s attention. 

Second would be the smaller, more intimate things. Take his narcolepsy for example. When accommodating for Ace’s narcoleptic episodes, it tugs at his heartstrings when you lay his sleeping head on your shoulder, or bring him down to your lap. When he wakes up to your gorgeous smile and your fingers combing through his hair, he falls in love all over again.

C=Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?)

Honestly, all types of cuddles are Ace’s favorite, he’s just not the type to say so out loud. 

That’s not to say he’s ashamed of his tactile nature. On the contrary,  Ace is especially partial to cuddling you and giving you surprise hugs.

Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation and stuff like that are completely fair game unless you request otherwise. Sometimes he’ll place the faintest of kisses on your forehead as you cuddle into his embrace.

No matter what though, Ace radiates heat. So even just sitting together side by side you can feel how warm his thigh is against your own. He doesn’t really bother to regulate his body temperature either unless someone else points it out. 

But even then, it’s harder for Ace to relax if he has to concentrate on managing his body temperatures. So, cuddles with Ace are always hot. Which…usually means you both end up cuddling or falling asleep with the duvet shoved under you or to the side of you because the heat is too much.

Once he becomes comfortable enough (and ensures that you’re okay with it) there’ll be some nights where he’s just clingy. Sometimes draping himself over your back, sometimes clinging to your torso like a koala cub. He feels comfortable and safe when he can take a nap resting against you. It’s actually kinda cute. 

The only issue is when he falls asleep on top of you and you can’t get him off. He’s basically a human furnace so you just suffer there until he either wakes up or someone comes around to help you.

When he’s having a particularly bad day he gives you The Look (as mentioned in A for Affection) and you know what it means in an instant.

D=Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?)

“I’ll become a great pirate and show them what I can do!” That’s what Ace declared to his brothers as a child. And in some ways, it could be said he fulfilled that childhood dream. He became the infamous ‘Fire Fist’ Ace--known all across the world in one way or another, even before Blackbeard blabbed about his parentage. He made a name for himself, by himself just as he always dreamed he would.

Yes, his purpose did change upon meeting Whitebeard; wanting his new captain and father figure to become the next Pirate King in order to prove how great a man he was. 

That being said, I can imagine Ace’s dreams evolving yet again when he meets his s/o. Both of the aforementioned goals/dreams are ambitious, but one key commonality between them is that they both seek to Prove something. Therefore it would make sense to presume that the next evolution of his ‘dream’ would share the same foundation.

At the beginning of your relationship, for example, it’s quite possible that Ace’s goal would be to prove that he is worthy of being your partner or to prove how much he loves you in some tangible way.

He dreams of all the ways he can make you smile and laugh and ensure that you’re happy with him. 

He dreams of all the moments you’ve ever said ‘I love you’ and how he could find a way to hear those words again.

He dreams of all the times he’s told you that he loves you and all the possible occasions where he can hold you close and tell you over and over again.

He dreams of returning to Dawn Island, to Fuchsia Village and the mountains where he was raised so he can show you all his childhood memories. 

He dreams of sailing with you and the Whitebeards for the rest of his days. He dreams of proving he can make you happy, in any way that manifests.

In other words—what it all boils down to, truly, is—Ace dreams of being alive  Happy with you.

E=Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?)

One thing we all know about Ace is that he doesn’t do things half-assed. EVER. 

This boy is dedicated. Once he sets his mind to something, Fire Fist will always follows through (a trait which can turn deadly when combined with his short temper and impulsivity). 

Point being, if Ace wants your relationship to work, he will make it work. Whatever it takes. 

Don’t let his playful charm fool you. Ace is a gentleman who takes your relationship seriously, always treating you with the utmost politeness and respect. 

He’ll open doors for you, he’ll *try* not to swear in front of you (good luck, pirate)--and knowing him the gestures just get more ridiculous from there.

He just wants to show you that he values you and your relationship. The only other people who are of equal value to him are his little brother Luffy and his father Whitebeard. 

All the same, Ace has committed himself to love you, protect you and to make you happy no matter what it takes. 

F=Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?)

Ace is impulsive and protective. Whatever it is that scares you, Ace’s first instinct is to tackle it head-on. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while he’s around.

At his core, Ace is worried about you. When he sees your fear, he acts without thinking, immediately responding to anything that makes his blood boil. And nothing lights him up faster than his loved ones being insulted and/or threatened.

Fire Fist (with serious effort) can learn to take a step back when he thinks you’re strong enough to handle a particular threat/fear. 

But the moment he thinks you might actually get hurt, all bets are off. He can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt if he can do something to prevent it. This man will die to protect his loved ones. End of story.

G=Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?)

Ace is not a terribly materialistic person, especially not by pirate standards. (He doesn’t even own a shirt, for God’s sake!)

But the things he does own, mean a hell of a lot to him. (Striker, anyone? Stetson, maybe?) 

So, in that way, finding gifts to give him is kinda challenging. You can’t really get away with the first little trinket that makes you think of him. It needs to be something of hefty significance. 

He doesn’t expect any gifts from you, not even on his birthday. He’ll always be surprised when people get him things. He’s surprised that people value him. 

Due to personal trauma, he doesn’t think very highly of himself. He desperately wants to prove himself a worthwhile part of other’s lives. He wants to be helpful--he needs to be needed. 

So when he’s searching for a gift to give you--he ends up having the same struggle you do with him. He wants to give you something really meaningful. Which is why a lot of his gifts to you will be handmade instead of bought. In each one you’ll be able to see the time and effort he committed to making it for you. 

If one thing can be said about Ace, whatever he goes for, he does so to the fullest.

H=Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?)

He may not always initiate them, but the boi loves hugs. If you’re comfortable with PDA, he’s definitely adding ‘Hugs’ to his repertoire of affectionate gestures. 

But even more than giving hugs, Ace finds love and gratification in receiving hugs from his s/o--especially when he’s having a tough time (See A for Affection).

Ace knows that he is a tactile person. It’s a truth of his personality that he knows and accepts, but doesn’t often flaunt without reason to do so. Finding his s/o, for example, gives him the perfect opportunity to express this part of himself. 

The second division commander is especially partial to cuddling you and giving you surprise hugs. Tossing an arm over your shoulder, tucking an arm around your waist, Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation--all this stuff is fair game unless you request otherwise (See C for Cuddles).

He especially loves those full-frontal Bear-hugs. You know the kind--the ones where both of you are swathed in each other’s embrace. Arms wrapped around each other, heartbeats pressed together, chins tucked into each other’s shoulders/chests/chins--(trying to accommodate for all heights here, bear with me). 

The point being, Ace loves the moments when the two of you are completely intertwined. That’s when he feels the most grounded. Certain in the fact that he is here, and he is loved. 

Oh! And one more thing. Ace gets surprisingly flustered if you hug him first--sometimes to the point where part of him accidentally catches fire--he’s super careful not to burn you, though. 

But when he hears your contented sigh--god forbid you nuzzle into him--the man just melts. All of his protests fall away, and he’s left standing there, tenderly wrapping his arms around you with the softest love-struck smile in the world.

I=Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Ace is a romantic at heart, of that you can be sure. 

But, he also has deeply internalized abandonment issues and fear of rejection. His father chose to die before he was born. His mother died not long after he was born. Almost everyone who’s ever become attached to him has either died or not stuck around long enough to meet that same fate. 

Not only that but all throughout his life, Ace has been subject to degradation. Strangers saying that his father was a demon and that ‘the child of the Pirate King’ was nothing more than worthless spawn destined to be just as bad--if not worse--than Roger himself. 

As a result, Ace thinks that he is cursed, a worthless son of a demon who will be rejected and abandoned as soon as others learn of his parentage.

So, prior to him sharing his family history with you, Ace will definitely struggle with intimacy. He’s frightened of being vulnerable in case his expectations/fears come true...that you will think just as little of him as he does of himself.  

As his feelings towards you grow, the more those deep-seated fears will swirl in his mind; 

‘If I tell them who I am, they’ll leave me.’

‘They’ll hate me.’ 

‘It’s no use, the moment I fall, they’ll either leave me or die trying.’ 

‘I don’t know which is worse.’  

It’s going to take a lot in order to get through to him. You’ll need to be patient--you can start small and maybe ask about what he wants for the future, or sprinkle in little tidbits about the present, instead of wallowing in the past. You can pave a path forward together just by talking plainly about what you want from your growing relationship.  

As your mutual trust builds, Ace will slowly start to unwind. The more time you spend together, you’ll start to feel each other ‘sync up’ with teamwork and such. He’ll start to grow more comfortable sharing his ideas and opinions, even if the two of you disagree on something. Over time it may get to the point where you and Ace are both acting or speaking at the same time. (Ace finds it endearing, don’t worry). 

Once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his. 

All throughout the growth of intimacy in your relationship, if you pay close attention, you’ll see slow growth in the number of romantic/intimate moments between the two of you. As the intimacy between you grows stronger, you’ll be able to feel its presence--something that brings peace and rejuvenation to both your souls. A bond that is unique to your relationship and allows you both to relax and be at ease. 

At first, moments like this are rare, probably in part because of Ace’s genuine responsibilities to the Whitebeards as a division commander. But as your relationship grows, you’ll notice Ace begin to commit himself more and more to making time for the two of you. Eating meals with you, a lingering hug and kiss at the end of each day and--if he can swing it--arranging a genuinely romantic ‘date’ between the two of you. 

Ace will definitely dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter. As mentioned many times before, Ace will take any excuse to touch his s/o affectionately throughout the day, not just when either of you wants to be romantic. He wants to give you all of his attention whenever he can. Whenever you want to talk to him, expect direct eye contact, perked ears and an affectionate smile.

Though he greatly enjoys PDA with you, Ace also likes the intimacy that comes from privacy. Those moments when he knows you are both in a safe space and can share your feelings with one another, even uncomfortable ones. Privacy also gives him the space to be truly intimate with you, so that he can learn the way you like to be held and touched. He wants to learn about you just as you took the time to learn about him.

J=Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?)

Oof. Okay. Yes, Ace does get jealous. And he’s exactly the kinda jealous you’d think of when the word pops up. There are two, maybe three big traits working against Ace in this regard. 

One would be his reckless and fiery temper. This is the trait that sent him on a deadly goose chase to capture Teach. His mercurial emotions lead him to make hasty, impulsive decisions, sometimes to the point of blatantly forgoing reason. This trait leads to your typical abrupt Alpha-Male confrontation with whatever stranger is trying to flirt with you. 

Second would be his wolf-like protectiveness. This is the trait Akainu used to goad him to his death, first by mocking Whitebeard then by targeting Luffy. Ace can be very protective, though he struggles trying not to be overbearing. If you’re capable of handling a situation yourself, he’ll try his best to stand back and leave it to you.

But, if he feels a situation is getting out of control, he’ll come to your aid in the blink of an eye—literally guns blazing. If Ace hears someone saying lewd comments about you or notices anyone targeting you--ya’ll better believe this man is gonna say/do something about it. 

Third, and perhaps the most powerful motivator in this scenario, is his deep-rooted insecurity. This is a man who has been questioning his worth, his very existence, for as long as he can remember. 

Then you come along, someone who makes this life worthwhile, and he sees you ‘getting comfy’ with someone else. It makes him angry, sure. But more than that it hurts--makes him a question and doubt all over again.

Thus, we have jealousy. Needless to say, Ace will not be thinking clearly when he confronts whoever is getting too close to you. He will be angry and protective and irrational. 

So, unfortunately, it will be up to you to de-escalate things and keep some sort of fight from breaking out. You’ll be the one to pull him away and get him to calm down. You’ll be the one to explain the situation, to talk him through what he’s feeling and why he feels that way. He’ll tell you the truth, you two will make amends (and hopefully plan in case of future incidents). 

Fair warning, in order to fully console your fiery partner, be prepared to give a whole lot of affection and reassurances. And patience, always patience--goodness knows this man is trying his best to be good. Please, grant him grace.

K=Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?)

Fair warning, it’s likely Ace would have had at least a few flings before you. He’s a handsome, charming guy—guys like him are like flypaper, attracting all the honey’s in a given radius. And with the company he keeps (PIRATES) he’s bound to have spent a night (or ten) in a brothel-esque setting.

All that to say, this man has experience. Not as much as Marco or the other Whitebeards, but still, a little experience counts for something, right?

At the very least, Ace will be a fantastic partner when it comes to kissing, 9 times out of 10, his kisses are either passionate & enthusiastic or affectionate & goofy, especially with an s/o. 

Yes, Ace likes to kiss you, the frequency is irrelevant. Yes, casual PDA is pretty commonplace with him, he fucking loves it. But anything heavier than a peck? He typically prefers to keep that between you and him. 

He is WAY too embarrassed to make out in public. Makino’s manners-lessons are ingrained too deeply by now, even if his s/o is purposefully driving him crazy. --He’s not opposed to a quickie in a broom closet or anything of the sort; just as long the two of you are out of plain view when snogging and such. If you two have at least some modicum of privacy in those more heated moments, Ace considers it fair game. 

The only two exceptions are when he’s feeling playful ‘bet you a hundred berries I can take your breath away’ or jealous ‘you are my treasure, those damned bastards better back off’ —those are his two very different kinds of showing off. 

L=Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?)

Honestly? He’s a little bit of both. 

Whenever Ace says “I love you,” those words are meant for your ears and your ears only. He doesn’t say them all that often, either. 

The more frequent sign of his affection, you’ll realize, is his peculiarly ‘discrete’ flirtations. Murmuring little comments/compliments whenever you cross paths;

 “Great job! You were wonderful back there, darlin’.” 

“That a new hat? Sexy.”

 “You look handsome/beautiful, my love.” 

and of course the obligatory “Last night was *spectacular*”

And it only gets more endearingly ridiculous from there. 

With the help of a bit of alcohol, Ace is plenty more affectionate towards you. He’ll shower you with compliments, make flirtatious jokes, and basically smother you with love. For example, say some of the crew are fawning over someone beautiful like Dracule Mihawk or Boa Hancock. Ace might joke with them, but the moment no one’s looking he’ll murmur in your ear;

 “The Greatest Swordsman ain’t half as sharp as you, babe.” 

or “The Pirate Empress ain’t got nothin’ on you, darlin’,” 

any reaction you might have will be met with a wink and a smirk.

At the start of every day--if he doesn’t say how he looks forward to seeing you again before he leaves, he’ll always acknowledge how much you mean to him-- “I love you.”

M=Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?)

When he first set out to sea? Ace had no intention of getting married. Falling in love, getting married--the only thing he associated all that with was settling down. ‘Settling down’ in his mind meant the opposite of freedom. So of course none of that ever occurred to him. Having been raised in the wild with only his little brother to love, Ace always assumed that ‘Falling in Love’ was something that happened to other people, not to him. 

As the years went on, Ace’s insecurities also played a role in this misconception--after all, who would want to fall in love with a demon-child like him? The son of the monstrous pirate king could never be loved by a stranger. Even if he did learn to care for someone that way, the moment they learned who he was, they’d betray him in some way. Maybe they’d leave him, turn him in, try to kill him; somehow the world would try to punish him for trusting someone, just like it did with Sabo.

So, even after he builds his own crew, joins the White-beards, even after he gains some experience pub-crawling with the WB Commanders, emotionally he keeps his distance from romance.  That is...until he meets his s/o. Everything about his relationship with you is completely unexpected. He knows that you like him, he knows that you trust him. You took the time to support and get to know him--something not many people in his life had done to such an extent. 

Suddenly, his entire perspective on love is turned on its head. He still doesn’t really give two shits about the institution of marriage. The whole ceremonial pomp and circumstance bit doesn’t really vibe with him. But the idea of you two staying together for the rest of your lives? That he can get behind.

N=Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?)

Honestly, unless someone else brought it up, Ace probably wouldn’t think to do anything fancy for a date. If you were with him and the Whitebeards as they landed on a carnival island or something he could certainly make a date out of it. But unfortunately for your resident hot-head, he doesn’t have much of a propensity of planning ahead. He’s a lot like his little brother in that way--outside of the battlefield, he’s a little bit of a dumbass.

Like, let’s say you land on an island that’s having some sort of cultural festival. The first thing Ace would do is dive head first to plunder all the food-stands, leaving you to trail behind and pay for the mess he made. After he’s had his fill, then you can get properly dressed (if necessary) and enjoy the rest of what the island has to offer. At that point, Ace would remember something besides his hollow leg and try to make up for his embarrassment. 

Good thing he has *the best* wingmen a pirate could ask for; Marco and Thatch. Marco has those empathetic sensibilities, if he’s met you before, then he has a pretty good intuition for the kinds of things you’d like. And Thatch, with that classic pompadour, knows how to put a romantic spin on just about anything. Hell, even Izo would put in his two cents more often than not.  He’d be more than willing to be a co-conspirator, guiding you to through the dates they plan for you and Ace without spoiling the surprise.

Thanks to friends like that, you and Ace get the crow’s next to yourself at least once a month, enjoying a picnic Thatch made for the two of you and basking in each other’s company under the stars. After a while, you might just be able to mark the dates on a calendar. But you don’t mind, Ace enjoys intimacy that comes from privacy. Those moments when he knows you are both in a safe space and can share your feelings with one another, even uncomfortable ones. And besides, the night sky seems to give Ace a certain peace of mind, so it’s all worth it.

O=Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?)

As mentioned before, Ace doesn’t often plan romantic happenings ahead of time. Mostly because he’s kinds clueless in that department. The most he knows how to do is those little tender gestures; Eating meals with you, a lingering hug and kiss at the end of each day, things like that. He wants to give you all of his attention whenever he can, but he’s not always the best at those big romantic dates. That kind of stuff either occurs by happenstance, or thanks to the orchestrations of friends. 

So whenever Ace does take romantic initiative--unprompted--you bet your bottom dollar it’s gonna be extraordinary. After all, this is Ace we’re talking about. When talking about elaborate activities spent away from the daily routine, the first thing his mind will jump to is Adventure. Nature hikes, scavenger hunts, stargazing on a mountaintop, all the roller coasters at a given carnival--the list goes on.

A lot of these ‘adventures’ will result in him giving you little ‘gifts’ as well; a bouquet of wildflowers he collected on your hike, a scavenger hunt ending in all your favorite things, a plush he spend God knows how many berries on to win for you. The gestures would only get more endearingly ridiculous from there. Granted, a lot of his gifts to you will be handmade instead of bought. But now matter how they were earned, in each one you’ll be able to see the time and effort he committed to making it for you (See G for Gifts).

Ooh! Ace will definitely dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter. Ace will take any excuse to touch his s/o affectionately throughout the day, not just when either of you wants to be romantic (See I for Intimacy).

P=Playful (Are they playful in a relationship? If so, how do they play around/mess with their s/o?)

There is no doubt about it. Ace is a complete and utter goofball. Therefore, he is also the goofy-type of lover.  If you ever blush at his teasing, Ace will absolutely relish in it. He’ll find it so adorable that he’s rolling around on the floor. The mental image of your flustered face would be absolutely priceless to him. In all honesty, he’d probably try to experiment from there--see what kinds of teases or compliments get the greatest reaction out of you. 

He does have some empathy for you, though. When Ace was younger he’d act the exact same way. Makino would lovingly tease him and he’d get all flustered too--definitely a shy boy. He loves to joke around and playfully tease his s/o, but at the end of the day, he’s always a sweetheart.

The funny thing about Ace is, the boy loves to not only tease you but to show off. The damned pirate is always trying new tricks with his powers at the most inopportune times. Literally the first thing he thought of when he got his Fire-power was ‘Oh my god, Luffy’s gonna love this!’ Now, the same applies to his s/o. He can’t wait to show you just what he can do. Whenever you are fighting Marines, if he beats one of them up, he always looks up at you and grins. 

Another thing to keep in mind is--regardless of what stage your relationship is in--Ace likes to drag you into his shenanigans. As mentioned earlier, Ace is an gung-ho adventurer. Plundering food stands, conquering roller coasters, this boy has a lot of energy. And if there’s not adventures to be had on a given day, what better way to release it than make himself and his friends laugh?

You need to be prepared for some risk, though. It’s no mystery that Ace is an adrenaline junkie and can have reckless/stupid ideas. Sometimes you both might end up hurt because of his bad decisions. 

Sometimes he’s a sweetheart, sometimes he’s an asshole. But whatever ruckus you got involved in, somehow you always end up happy and smiling.

Q=Questions (Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?)

This is an aspect of your relationship with Ace that develops slowly over time. At first, there’s that goofy, overly-polite layer of him that doesn’t think ahead enough to bother asking questions. At this stage of your connection he behaves in a way similar to the adage that says; ‘Better to ask for forgiveness than permission’. He won’t ask your opinion before he does something, but he may come to you afterwards, either to apologize or reflect on whatever he did. 

After peeling back that layer, you’ll find the lingering remains of his tsundere childhood roots. That lost, self-hating child so desperate to prove his worth and strength that he doesn’t want to be vulnerable to anyone. The boy with whose expression was a stony brick wall deflecting the rest of the world. This is how you’ll know, there’s a part of him believes that showing uncertainty is a sign of vulnerability, something others can mock and degrade, just as the bandits and so many others did. 

At that stage of your connection, it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll let on how he’s feeling. He usually hides his bad moods pretty well. By the time the two of you come together, he’s mature enough to realize that scathing retorts are not the answer to everything. He’s no longer the kind to immediately lash out when someone asks him too many questions--but he certainly will if pushed too far.

But what you’ll learn over time is that he often looks for affection when he’s feeling down. Sometimes he’ll ask to hold your hand or go in for a hug and has a hard time letting go once you do. Other times it’s him just giving you a look. A lot of these gestures are often silent; he does tend to get quiet on these kinds of days. But it’s the first sign of him opening up to you. 

In public, he plays it off as a ‘suave’ eyebrow lift, like an open invite from Casanova. The smile typically gives him away--he’s not always as smooth as he wants to be. In private, it’s the infamous sad, silent, yearning puppy-dog eyes following you around. You know it’s a real bad day when he’s just staring off into space with that look on his face (See A for Affection). 

Once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his (See I for Intimacy). 

In short, yes, Ace will eventually come to rely on you, quite closely, in fact. He will learn that he can ask your opinion on things, that he can share his own thoughts and feelings freely with you at anytime. But it’s a long, arduous journey for him to reach that level of trust. Showing that you love and trust him; asking his opinion on things, standing by him through thick and thin--those are a sure-fire way to build that faithful trust in your relationship.

R=Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?)

Spontaneity is Ace’s middle name (lol). It comes with the territory of being an impulsive, hot-headed dumbass with a penchant for adrenaline and adventure. There are seeds of it scattered throughout his personality and his relationship with you.

Ace will dance with you out of nowhere. He’ll take your hand and twirl you around just to hear your surprised laughter (See I for Intimacy). 

He’ll take any excuse to give you surprise hugs. Tossing an arm over your shoulder, tucking an arm around your waist, Hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of a conversation--all this stuff is fair game unless you request otherwise (See C for Cuddles).

That combined with his peculiarly ‘discrete’ flirtations--never fail to take you by surprise (See L for Love). 

It’s no mystery that Ace is an adrenaline junkie and can have reckless/stupid ideas. Our resident hot-head doesn’t have much of a propensity for planning ahead. Regardless of what stage your relationship is in--Ace is going to drag you into his shenanigans (See P for Playful).  

And whenever Ace does take romantic initiative--unprompted--you never know what you’re gonna get. Could be nature hikes, could be scavenger hunts, could be stargazing on a mountaintop, or it could be just all the roller coasters at a given carnival (See O for Out of the Ordinary). Honestly, the possibilities are endless.

S=Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?)

Oh, this one varies. A lot. 

First, there’s Ace’s narcolepsy, which very much affects the way he sleeps with his s/o. Hell, it affects the way he lives his life. But, one inadvertent positive of Ace’s narcolepsy, was how you could surprise him with those small, intimate moments of affection. If he falls asleep hugging you from behind, then he’d just stand there snoring with his chin propped on top of you head (depending on your height). 

If he fell asleep sitting next to you, you could let him rest his head on your shoulder, or pull him down into your lap. That’s one thing he loves, waking up to you. It tugs at his heartstrings when you lay his sleeping head on your shoulder, or bring him down to your lap. When he wakes up to your gorgeous smile and your fingers combing through his hair, he falls in love all over again (See B for Breath).

Second, Portgas D. Ace is a human fucking furnace so honestly, he’s always gonna be warm. The way you sleep together is gonna depend on how much you need that heat. 

If you and Ace are parked on a winter island, you bet your bottom dollar the two of you are gonna be clinging to each other for dear life. Not that Ace necessarily needs any more body heat in order to keep warm. He’s just taking advantage of this prime opportunity for cuddles. He can cling to you like a koala and you’ll actually welcome the gesture. It’s a dream come true!

If you and Ace are parked on a summer/desert island? That’s a whole other debacle. Summer islands are always hot. It’s just a matter of whether it’s dry heat or humid heat. With dry heat--you could *probably* get away with spooning? Or at least with one person lying on the other’s chest. With humid heat--everything is damp, warm, sticky and being near human skin is almost miserable. Your best bet is holding hands while facing each other in your cot/cabin/tent wherever you are. Desert islands are an exception to this because deserts often get pretty chilly once the sun goes down. This is where spooning becomes *most* likely. 

Beyond those two extremes, almost any position is fair game. Ace loves it when he’s in your lap and you’re playing with his hair. There are happy days, where he loves to be the ‘big spoon’ and nuzzle himself in the crook of your neck. And there are hard days, where his mind is a minefield and he just needs someone to hold him close. He loves lying face to face, weaving his fingers between yours. Could be any kind of day, doesn’t matter to him. What matters is that he can just relax and admire you, and just how lucky he is to have you. 

But maybe, just maybe, he does have a favorite way to hold you. Of all the ways in the world to hold someone, Ace loves when you lie on top of him. With your head on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat under your ear. And just like his heartbeat is to you, your weight is an anchor. I can feel you, know that you’re there, present and loving--always loving. So yea, that’s probably his favorite way to be.

T=Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?)

Given time, Ace will come to trust you with everything he has. But, as mentioned before, it is a very long, slow and arduous journey to reach that point. Luffy had to endure weeks, if not months, of Ace trying to lose his tail, if not actively trying to kill him, before they reached a point of mutual trust. From then on, Ace was willing to protect his brother with everything he had--including his own life. 

But before you can get to that point, you must assuage his deeply internalized abandonment issues and fear of rejection. All throughout his life, Ace has been subject to degradation. He grew up internalizing the hate directed his way, and no one knew to contradict it. Almost everyone who’s ever become attached to him has either died or not stuck around long enough to meet that same fate (See I for Intimacy). 

As a result, Ace has a lot of self-hatred accumulated in his heart. He also has a lot of problems being open about it. He’s so used to shouldering mistakes that are not his own. His blood carries all the crimes of Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King. He’s frightened of being vulnerable in case his expectations/fears come true...that you will think just as little of him as he does of himself.

Ace will definitely struggle with trusting you. This is an aspect of your relationship with Ace that develops slowly over time. At first, there’s that goofy, overly-polite layer of him; he’s cordial, charming, and fun to be around. But it’s hard to get a clear read on him at that point; who he is, how he thinks, and how his thoughts influence his actions (See Q for Questions). 

After peeling back that layer, you’ll find the lingering remains of his tsundere childhood roots. That lost, self-hating child so desperate for a reason to live. He tells the world that he wants to be remembered. He wants to prove that he, as an individual, is worth more than the legacy of his father. But that dream, that grand ambition, also translates itself in smaller ways. He wants to be wanted, needs to be needed. 

At that stage of your connection, it’s a bit of a coin toss as to whether he’ll confide in you. He’s no longer the kind to immediately lash out when someone asks him too many questions--but he certainly will if pushed too far. Even then, he’s not likely to explicitly tell you this deep-rooted need in the core of him. So it’s likely something you’ll have to learn by observing his words, his actions, his being (See Q for Questions). 

However, with you around--especially when your relationship becomes more stable and long-standing--he slowly breaks.  As your mutual trust builds, Ace will slowly start to unwind. The more time you spend together, you’ll start to feel each other ‘sync up’ with teamwork and such. He’ll start to grow more comfortable sharing his ideas and opinions, even if the two of you disagree on something (See I for Intimacy).   

That being said, once Ace knows that he can be his true self around you--that you won’t reject or abandon him because of his ‘monstrous’ parentage/lack of worth--he’ll grow more comfortable trusting you, sharing his thoughts and feelings with you. And in return, he will wordlessly swear to consistently support you and keep your secrets just as you’ve kept his (See I for Intimacy). 

In short, yes, Ace will eventually come to rely on you, quite closely, in fact. He will learn that he can ask your opinion on things, that he can share his own thoughts and feelings freely with you at anytime. But it’s a long, arduous journey for him to reach that level of trust. Showing that you love and trust him; asking his opinion on things, standing by him through thick and thin--those are a sure-fire way to build that faithful trust in your relationship. With your constant support, he becomes more confident and calm--and he’s definitely sure he is loved.

U=Unique (What makes them unique as an s/o?)

Oh, so many things. Ace is such a unique combination of character traits, sometimes it’s difficult to articulate just how they call fit together in one human being. 

As an s/o, Ace is cordial, charming, and ever-the respectful gentleman. Then you get to know him, and he becomes this goofy dumbass who will take any excuse to touch you, hold you and take you on these crazy adventures exploring the world together. Dive even deeper, and you discover the utter depth of him. He is a vulnerable soul who has internalized the worst of the world he was born into--yet he stills finds reason to smile. 

What makes Ace unique as an s/o? His resilience. If you two come to a disagreement, he may lose his temper in the moment. But give him time, give him patience, give him grace, and he will come back to you. No matter his fears, no matter his doubts, he will find a reason to push through. If one thing can be said about Ace, whatever he goes for, he does so to the fullest (See E for Effort).

That’s not to say resilience can’t be a double-edged sword. There are a few coping mechanisms Ace developed in order to persevere through life that actually inhibited his ability to connect with people the way he longed to. After all, how many times did Whitebeard have to deflect Ace before the boy understood that he didn’t have to fight his way through life? And how many times did Luffy have to almost-die chasing the lonely boy through the jungle before he finally accepted the company? 

All the same, if you remain just as stubborn as he is, you will give him yet another reason to get back up; another reason to live. Take this hypothetical argument as an example. It may take a few tries to get through his thick skull, but he you will eventually talk things out and come to a resolution. He’ll grow from the experience and the two of you will be all the stronger for it. That’s what perseverance and resilience is all about.

V=Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

If you were ever vulnerable around Ace, he would support you wholeheartedly. If you were to get stuck in your own negative thoughts/feelings about yourself, he’d hold you as close as possible and refuse to let go until you admit you’re a good person. No matter what you say about your past/insecurities, Ace won’t judge you or let you feel as though you deserve any of the trauma you went through (big or small). He knows that you are better than you think you are and he won’t let you feel the same kind of self-loathing he has. 

Ace is a very outgoing man. He’s surrounded by countless friends and keeps making new ones every day. There’s something in his exceptional charisma that makes people cling to him. However, Ace does not open up easily to others. It would take a while for Ace to really open up to his s/o, just because he’s internalized all of his negative thoughts and feelings about himself from a young age. 

Over time, however, he’d slowly grow to trust you and one night, when it’s just the two of you together somewhere, Ace would just tell you what’s on his mind. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you--your love--or anyone’s really.” 

The conversation would turn into the two of you opening up to each other (equivalent exchange for the win!) Ace would tell you about all the things weighing him down; his father being Gol D. Roger, his mother dying to keep him safe from the World Government, being called a ‘Demon-child’ all his life, his time in the mountains with Luffy and Sabo, meeting Whitebeard and joining the family--all of it. 

By the end of his story, tears soak his cheeks, his lips are red and raw, his voice hoarse and his words thick with emotion. He looks like a mess and you won’t know how to fix it. The best you can do is hold him, guide him through it. 

The conversation would likely end with both of you promising to support each other from then on. Whenever one of you starts to feel insecure or lingers too much on the past, you’ll have a keyword to communicate how you’re feeling. 

He might not acknowledge ever being in this state later on, but he will thank you quietly that night--and every night after if you’ll let him. “Thank you...thank you for loving me.”

W=Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice)

Ace does not share food. EVER.

His narcolepsy makes him fall asleep in the weirdest situations--and in the weirdest positions. You can’t possibly count the number of times you fell to the ground because he dozed off while carrying you on his shoulders.

Or because he does it mid-kiss or hug and just leans on you. Or because he trips and accidentally knocks you down. He’s not even ashamed of it--unless you get hurt somehow during these incidents--otherwise he’ll just laugh it off, if a little sheepishly.

X=X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?)

Ace is our resident self-deprecation machine. Whatever happened, however you got hurt, the man would find some way to blame himself. Always thinking; it should have been me. 

He would be terrified out of his mind. He knows you’re strong, but sometimes he forgets that you can still get knocked down. He’ll camp outside the infirmary door until he’s allowed to come in. The moment he’s given the go-ahead, he’ll charge into the room and wrap you up in his arms as close as he can. He needs to feel you and reassure himself that you’re alright. 

Even after he’s been assured that you’re okay and that you’ll recover, Ace will hardly leave your side unless there’s some unavoidable responsibility he has to take care of. There will be moments when his mind will try to twist things and make him feel like a bad partner; as if he’s the reason for your injury, whether because he was the target of the attack or because he couldn’t protect you. 

You’ll have to be the one who keeps those thoughts at bay. Ace will make sure you never want for anything, for as long as you’re recovering. He won’t ask for anything in return. But between him supporting your physical health and you supporting his mental health, the whole ordeal will only serve to make your relationship stronger.

HOWEVER-- once he finds out who hurt you--he’s going to be just as relentless as he was chasing Teach. The guilty party won’t even be able to hold a pencil again once Ace is done with them (if they’re even still alive afterwards). 

Y=Yuck (Do they have any pet peeves about their s/o? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?)

If you try and steal his food, he will bite you. There’s still a Little bit of that feral child energy that rears up whenever something annoys him. He does not appreciate jump scares for that exact reason. His adrenaline and danger radar will immediately be turned up to 11 and he is no longer responsible for how he responds to the perceived danger. (Though he’ll probably apologize profusely anyways, cause he’d feel horrible if you got hurt by his knee-jerk reactions). 

On the other hand, there are a few scenarios when perhaps his narcolepsy can become a bit trying. If he starts snoring when you’re in the middle of telling him something important. If he falls asleep on top of you and you can’t get him Off. There could also be situations where his formality gets in the way of what you’re really trying to talk about. Once he starts apologizing for something, things can go on for a while. But the level to which these quirks annoy people, depends on the individual.

Z=Zeal (Are they passionate as an s/o? Do they want or like passion?)

Ace is, as always, full of passion and impatience. He’ll certainly appreciate a similar amount of fervor from his partner, but it’s not a criteria, by any stretch. Whether you’re extroverted, introverted, bouncy or chill AF, he’ll gladly accept you exactly the way you are.

On his end, however, there are instances where Ace’s intensely passionate personality can come back to bit him in the ass. One would be his reckless and fiery temper. This is the trait that sent him on a deadly goose chase to capture Teach. It also leads to your typical abrupt Alpha-Male confrontation with whatever stranger is trying to flirt with you (See J for Jealousy). 

His mercurial emotions and stubborn determination lead him to make hasty, impulsive decisions; sometimes to the point of blatantly forgoing reason. Once he sets his mind to something, Fire Fist will always follows through--a trait which can turn deadly when combined with his short temper and impulsivity (See E for Effort) .

At the very least, Ace will be a fantastic partner when it comes to kissing, 9 times out of 10, his kisses are either passionate & enthusiastic or affectionate & goofy, especially with an s/o (See K for Kisses).

In the end, if there’s one thing we all know about Ace--it’s that he doesn’t do things half-assed. EVER. This boy is dedicated.  Point being, if Ace wants your relationship to work, he will make it work. Whatever it takes.

[whenisitenoughtrees]

Congrats on 500 followers!!!!! Your writing is amazing and you totally deserve it! Would you be able to do “Can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” for analogical? If you don’t get inspo for it that’s totally fine I’m just on a total analogical kick recently lol

@wisherbystarlight thank you!! i absolutely love analogical so here you go

Title: abject impermanence

Word Count: 3,570

Content Warnings: implied suicidal ideation (in reference to virgil ducking out), negative self image

(fic masterpost)

Virgil would rather die than admit this to anybody, but he develops a crush on Logan after their first debate.

It’s ridiculous, and bothersome, and stupidly humiliating, and he has to spend a few days in his room before he feels prepared enough to face anyone again, prepared enough to put up his usual walls and throw around his usual sarcastic comments, and all the while, his heart is beating far too fast, his mind racing, insisting that he’s being obvious, that everyone knows.

(That is what being Anxiety means: he is under a microscope all the time, his every movement watched and analyzed and derided, alone in a crowd of people who wish him nothing but ill.)

It’s awful, really. Is he truly so pathetic that the first time someone treats him like his opinions are valid, he falls head over heels for them? Because he has to admit, that’s the root of all of this. The debate, and the fact that even though Logan didn’t agree with him, he still treated him with respect, like he was someone worth listening to, and none of the light sides have ever acted like that before.

And they’ve certainly never told him that they don’t mind his company.

So. He has a crush on Logan. And it takes him a few weeks to calm down enough to really think about it, but when he does, he decides that nothing has to change. It’s not like he’ll ever work up the courage to act on these feelings

(because holy shit, how badly would that go? He can picture it now: Logan sneering at him, Logan rejecting him, Logan informing him that he would never in a million years have feelings for someone so irrational and useless, and while Virgil is at it, would he kindly remove himself from his presence and never come back and— well. Maybe Virgil is irrational, but he can’t bring himself to risk something like that)

so the only thing to do with them is pretend they’re not there, right? He’ll keep all of his emotions right here, in his chest, and then one day, he’ll die, and no one else has to know a thing about it.

He doesn’t see what could possibly go wrong with this plan. Which is odd for him because usually, he can only see the things that could go wrong. But the only factor in this plan is him, and his own ability to disguise his feelings, and he’s been successfully doing that for a very long time.

(After all, it’s been years, and none of the others have managed to figure out how much their rejection hurts him, how deeply it strikes at the heart he pretends not to have.)

But he doesn’t anticipate things changing. He doesn’t anticipate trying to duck out, at least, not until the moments in between making the decision and actually going through with it, and he doesn’t anticipate anybody coming after him. He certainly doesn’t anticipate their reactions, doesn’t anticipate being told that he’s important,

(because since fucking when?)

and doesn’t anticipate their acceptance.

He doesn’t anticipate telling them his name.

And alright, maybe he could deal with all of this. Maybe he could ease his way into being one of them, edge his way into their inner circle. It’s something he once would have thought impossible, but now, they seem determined to make him one of them, to bring him into their family, and even though part of him wonders whether they’re just trying to make sure he doesn’t duck out again, doesn’t hurt Thomas, a larger part of him is ecstatic about the fact that they’re including him at all. Maybe he can let himself have this, for once.

But that night, Logan comes to his room.

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asks, and reluctantly, Virgil takes off his headphones.

Because, yes. Of course. He’s hardly busy, and even if he were, he’s certain he’d figure out a way to put it aside in favor of Logan, because really, he’s helpless to do anything else.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, aiming for casual. He thinks he makes it, if only because he is very practiced in hiding how much of a mess he is internally. “What’s up?”

Logan looks uncomfortable, a bit shifty, even though he hasn’t been in his room nearly long enough for its effects to take hold.

“I merely wanted to check in with you after today’s events,” he says, and then pauses, biting his lip, something that Virgil finds incredibly distracting. “Specifically, to ensure that you are alright.”

He blinks. “Of course I’m alright,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“Well, I was considering everything that happened, and it occurred to me that we glossed over precisely what ‘ducking out’ would have done to you in the long term.” In an oddly vehement motion, Logan shoves his glasses further up his nose. And Virgil knows very well that as the embodiment of Logic, Logan tries not to display his stronger emotions, but right now, he is the perfect picture of distress. “I find it likely that if Thomas had been unable to utilize you for an extended amount of time, you may have… disappeared, for lack of a better word, not unlike a muscle that atrophies after disuse.”

Well, yes. He knew what he was risking. But he’d felt low enough that he didn’t particularly care about himself.

He was just tired of hurting Thomas.

(And maybe, just maybe, if there was a part of him, small and insidious in the back of his brain, that found the prospect of nothingness appealing, he’ll keep that to himself.)

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But that didn’t happen. You guys came and got me, and I’m okay now. Not gonna do anything like that again, I swear.”

“That’s not my point,” Logan says, even more upset entering his voice. He crosses his arms, holding his shoulders tensely. “No matter how illogical it might seem, I find myself wondering what might have happened had we not attempted to reach you in time, and the idea is… displeasing.”

Oh.

Despite himself, Virgil’s heart flutters.

“So, I arrived at the conclusion that assuring myself of your continued well-being would help to assuage my concern.” Logan fidgets. “As well as the fact that… I want you to be alright. For yourself, and not just because I am…”

“Anxious?” Virgil can’t resist finishing, even as he feels his face flushing underneath his foundation. God, he hopes Logan doesn’t pick up on that. He shouldn’t be reacting this strongly to something as simple as basic worry, especially after the day they all had, but to know that Logan has been thinking about him? That Logan doesn’t like the idea of him not being around, doesn’t want him to vanish?

That Logan cares enough to come check on him like this?

It’s a strong, heady feeling, and Virgil has the sneaking suspicion that his crush has just upgraded itself.

“Yes,” Logan answers, and he seems a bit embarrassed, but he holds his ground, staring Virgil straight (gay) in the eyes. The direct eye contact is intense, almost too much for him to handle, but Virgil finds himself unable to look away.

“Well, uh, I appreciate it, I guess,” he manages. “Really, it’s nice to know that you care.”

“Of course,” Logan says, and seems almost indignant at the idea that he might not. “I value our discussions,” he adds, and Virgil has to pretend that that statement doesn’t almost give him a heart attack.

But that is mostly the end of that conversation, because really, neither of them is very good with touchy-feely emotions. Logan sinks back out shortly after, and Virgil is left alone in his room, his headphones lying uselessly on his lap as his mind reviews their exchange over and over again, searching for all the places where it might have gone wrong, or where he might have messed up. He can’t really find any, and that is a realization in and of itself, almost enough to distract him from the bigger one, the one that looms over him.

It’s not just a crush anymore. He could try to deny it, but he thinks that would summon unwanted attention. So he accepts it, accepts that he is… he’d say infatuated, but infatuated isn’t the right word. Infatuated doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels when he looks at Logan, doesn’t cover the way his heart races and his words trip over themselves and the way he longs for his approval. It doesn’t cover the way he knows so many little details about him, like the way Logan pushes at his glasses or fiddles with his tie when he’s nervous or upset, or the exact way his lips curl around the edges when he’s pleased and trying not to show it. So many little details, none of which would be on his radar at all if he wasn’t—

Well. He won’t deny it. But he doesn’t particularly see the need to voice it, either.

After all, it’s not like it changes anything. Or at least, it shouldn’t. He wasn’t planning on sharing his feelings when they were a simple crush, and he’s certainly not going to share them now that there’s more.

Except, nothing is ever that simple,

(Nothing ever can be, with him. It’s what he does best, turning easy things into overcomplicated messes because he can’t let go of all the what ifs—)

because suddenly, he’s welcome to spend time with the others. Is welcome at their table, is welcome in the commons, is welcome to join their movie nights and their game nights, and most of the time, he even feels mostly okay with doing so, because Patton is enthusiastic in his invitations, and he can tell that even Roman is honestly trying. And sometimes, it makes him want to cry, because this is all he’s ever wanted, to be one of them, and now he can and it’s almost too much.

The only problem with that is that he’s spending a lot more time around Logan.

Which is fine. Great, even.

Except, sometimes, Logan will do things. Little things, inconsequential things, but things that remind Virgil all too clearly of the feelings he keeps nestled under his heart.

For instance, Logan bites his lip a lot. When he’s working, when he’s watching movies, when he’s listening to the others, and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s a stupid thing to get caught up on, but he can’t help himself. And it’s not as if Virgil’s attraction to him begins or ends with the physical, but—

Whenever he does it, Virgil can’t stop his eyes from zeroing in on his lips. Can’t stop himself from thinking about how much he would like to kiss him.

He would like to kiss him a whole lot. And he’s fairly sure he’s being pretty obvious about it, but he can’t bring himself to stop.

So, really, he should have prepared himself for the possibility of being found out. Under any other circumstance, he would have, but there’s a saying, he thinks, about love and fools.

“Can I help you with something?” Logan says, and Virgil flinches violently, the rest of the world coming back into focus. He snaps his gaze up to meet Logan’s eyes, and the expression on his face might be amusement, maybe, but it could also be annoyance, and in fact, it’s probably definitely annoyance, because actually Logan is annoyed with Virgil and maybe even angry and now their budding friendship is completely ruined and all because Virgil doesn’t know better than to stare when he really shouldn’t be staring and—

No, stop. Stop. He’s not going to do that, not right now. He wrests his thoughts back under control with an effort.

Logan was working, typing away on his laptop, biting his lip as he concentrated. And Virgil just so happened to be out in the commons as well, in the perfect position to watch him and daydream, just a bit.

He needs to reply. He’s left it too long, and Logan’s eyebrows are inching up his face as he awaits a response. And the longer he takes to come up with something, the more suspicious Logan will be, so he should just shrug, mutter a denial, and pointedly turn his attention away. Something like that.

But it’s his job to make snap decisions under pressure. And sometimes those decisions aren’t the right ones.

So instead of taking another second to think things through and deflect Logan’s interest, his mouth opens ahead of his brain and says, “Can you please stop biting your lip?”

Logan stares. Virgil feels himself wilting.

“… It’s distracting,” he finishes weakly, and prays for the ground to swallow him whole. He can’t even manage to sink out

(because his mind is screaming at him now, screaming horrified recriminations, screaming all of the worst case scenarios, and it’s taking all of his concentration to breathe properly, much less get out of here)

because the sheer force of his embarrassment is leaving him paralyzed, curled up in his chair and with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape Logan’s widening eyes.

“Is it now,” Logan says, and he doesn’t sound particularly angry, but Virgil could very easily be wrong. Or, he could be angry and trying to hide it. Or maybe he’s not angry, but irritation would probably be just as bad, at this point.

“Sorry,” he mutters, hunching in on himself. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.”

“Virgil, you’re magnifying,” Logan says softly, and that softness is worse than any anger could be, because what if he’s figured it out? What if he pities him? Virgil would take just about anything over pity. “Whatever you think you just said, I assure you that it didn’t come off nearly as badly as you seem to believe.” He pauses, tilting his head. “Though, I can’t say I’m certain of what you meant, considering—”

He cuts off suddenly, and Virgil can practically see the cogs turning in his head. He should leave now, leave before Logan draws his conclusions, but he is frozen, powerless to do anything but let this train wreck happen in real time.

“I wouldn’t ordinarily consider biting my lip to be a disruptive habit,” Logan says slowly. “It makes no noise and does no one any harm, and it’s not something I would think affects anyone else. But you were staring, which means there is something about the habit that draws your attention. I can only think of a few reasons for that.”

He takes it back. Pity would be far better than this, than this slow and measured reasoning, drawing out all of Virgil’s best-kept secrets, spiraling toward a conclusion that he never wanted anyone to know, much less Logan himself.

Perhaps that is why he says what he says. Because with this, Logan is only prolonging the inevitable, and it’s torture.

It’s like a band-aid. The biggest band-aid ever, maybe, covering one of the worst wounds of his life, but a band-aid. And it’s coming off one way or another, so he might as well rip it off now and brace himself for the sting.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It makes me want to kiss you. That’s why it’s distracting. And I’m just gonna go die in a hole now, if that’s alright.”

His face is burning, mortification rising up in him like a tidal wave, threatening to swamp him. This is, possibly, the worst thing that has ever happened to him, ever.

(It’s not, of course, because anything and everything is better than it was before he was accepted, when he was on his own and so lonely and bitter all the time. But this comes close, he thinks. It’s a different kind of hurt altogether, but a hurt nonetheless.)

Logan sets his laptop down, giving him his full attention. For a moment, he is completely silent, and Virgil prepares himself to stand and sink out and into his room, where he will spend the next few weeks huddled under the covers on his bed with his headphones on blast, hating his life and himself for being such an idiot, because here he is, ruining one of the best friendships that he has ever known, and for what? Because he was too much of a moron to keep himself from staring, from forcing his unwanted attentions upon the one side who was more likely than any of the others to notice what he was doing? It’s pathetic, and stupid, and he knows it, and Logan knows it, and—

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” Logan says. His voice shakes, just slightly. “You could kiss me, if you wanted.”

Virgil stills. He can’t have heard that right.

Logan clears his throat. “That is to say, I would enjoy it, if you kissed me. If I’d realized you were interested, I would have broached the topic sooner.”

Hysterical laughter threatens to escape him, his brain dissolving into static, because what? And he knows he needs to say something, needs to respond, but his vocal cords refuse to work, so he’s left sitting there, staring, stricken dumb.

Logan glances away, something like uncertainty crossing his face. “I apologize,” he murmurs. “I’m not doing this right, am I?”

And that is what finally spurs Virgil to action, because Logan sounds so terribly dejected, and that is absolutely not allowed. Not when it’s Virgil that’s made such a mess of things, when none of it is Logan’s fault at all.

“Do you mean it?” he croaks.

Logan blinks, his expression clearing, and then landing on comprehension. His face softens, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he stands, crossing the floor and kneeling in front of where Virgil sits.

“Of course I do,” he says, and then reaches out with one hand, cupping Virgil’s cheek. Virgil’s breath catches, the contact shooting lightning across his face and down his spine. His heart starts beating faster, and he doesn’t know whether it’s fear or anticipation or some mixture of the two. Most of him still hasn’t processed that this is happening, hasn’t made the jump from Logan can never know about my feelings because he’ll reject me and then I’ll have no choice but to jump off a cliff to Logan knows about my feelings and he is doing the exact opposite of rejecting me hoooooly shit what do I do—

“I think about you often,” Logan says. “Ever since our first debate, if I’m being completely honest.”

Virgil blinks.

The laugh escapes him, then, but there’s not much hysteria in it. It’s something warm, now, something bright and colorful and blooming as he realizes just how much of an idiot he’s been, as his anxiety slowly begins to fade away,

(not completely, never completely, because he is who he is and that will never change, and his mind is already looking to the future, at all the fresh new opportunities he is going to have to screw this up, but for now, in this moment, he has Logan here in front of him, offering to kiss him, telling him that his feelings aren’t as one-sided as he convinced himself they had to be, and it’s very difficult to be negative at all, in the face of such a beautiful thing as this, as him)

morphing into something that he is tentatively willing to call hope.

“Yeah?” he says. “Me too.”

Before he can lose his nerve, he shifts position, leans down, and kisses Logan. Lightly, briefly, and it’s really more of a peck than anything else, but in the split second in which their lips meet, Virgil can feel just how soft Logan’s are, and when he pulls back, anxiously searching for a reaction, Logan’s cheeks are dusted with red.

“Yes, um,” Logan says. “That was… good. Would you like to do it again?”

A wave of fondness washes over him, and he lets it drag him away.

“You dork,” he says, and pecks him on the lips again. He doesn’t yet have to courage to try for more, but he thinks that might come with time. If he is allowed time, if he is allowed this, and he is not prone to optimism, but for once, he might be willing to give it a go.

Optimism, and whatever this is, new and exciting and budding between them. And there is a part of his mind that is screaming at him, insisting that he’s only going to hurt Logan or get hurt himself, and that no brief happiness could ever be worth that, but—

Logan’s lips are gentle and soft, and Logan is smiling at him, and that, he thinks, might be worth the world.

(“I would be extremely displeased if you died in a hole,” Logan informs him a bit later. “Please refrain from doing so.”

He agrees, if only because of that fact that if he died in a hole, he would never get to kiss Logan ever again. And now that he’s started, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

He is not one to believe in permanence. Or in happy endings. But just this once, he’ll try it, and trust that Logan will catch him if he falls.)

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @ldavmp4

[ziamhaze]

hello! i wanted to ask what parts of zayn’s and liam’s personalities you enjoy the most or that you like to use as foundations in your writing. i loved kick, push and thought that zayn allowing himself to just feel was very true to who he is as a person or at least that’s how i see it

I fucking love this.  Thank you so so so much for reading my work, including the end notes, but thank you even more for asking such an under-appreciated question.

The truth is, each fic that I write, I choose a few specific traits of theirs to accentuate.  Because they're in new careers each fic, I've had to really think about which parts of their personalities the job and its setting would bring out.  In The Heart of Him Zayn was a lot less outspoken (and obviously chose smoking as a way to keep this up) than he was in Red vs. Black.  Liam's characterization in Kick, Push was considerably more determined than his portrayal in Customer of the Month.  And yet, each version was still true to who 'Zayn Malik' and 'Liam Payne' are at their core.  But here’s a little list for you:

Liam:

His openness towards learning from the world around him - I think this is an amazing quality for a character (and person) to have, because you can explore so many topics in full curiosity mode and allow for the reader to learn alongside them - major points with reader resonation too.  Exhibit A, Exhibit B

His naivety - not necessarily as present nowadays as it once was, but it helps with the above and also creates a gap for another, more intelligent character to come in and 'fill' - aka that puzzle piece fitting feeling aka the best part of a romance

His patience - a great sounding board for a more rambunctious character to play off of

His struggles - yes, his flaws are a positive.  You've got his constant strive towards better mental health that's more than needed in today's world (especially by male characters), his on and off self-confidence which I really played around with in Customer of the Month, his coming to terms with overwhelming amounts of attention, all of it.  I'm not particularly happy that he goes through any sort of hardship in real life, but as a writer, a character with flaws is what makes them believable and human - the only way for stories of any kind to be memorable

His varied childhood (not a personality trait, I know) - between his kidney disease, hearing him talk about his time with his sisters/family, his running career, his bravery saving Andy during the fire incident, Liam's got a hell of a lot to work with in terms of still making him 'Liam Payne' simply by playing on a part of his youth

Most importantly, the fact that he's still actively finding himself - it's all done so openly as well, and I think more than anything, the general demographic of those reading fanfiction are on that journey too, and therefore, having one of the main characters of a story have tinges of this outside of his teenage years is much needed

Zayn:

How certain he is of himself - don't misinterpret this as pompous, because Zayn's anything but.  Having beliefs that are as solid as a rock and a personality that refuses to waver from them makes for a main character that's not only strong, but can also spark major drama when their stance clashes with another

His book/street smart combo - can he be a tenure economics professor?  yes.  can he also be a graffiti artist who smokes cigars?  sigh.  yes, and so very well.

How he speaks - no, not his thick accent.  The way in which he voices his thoughts can be both super philosophical (see: Z.A.Y.N. - writing him as a songwriting poet was a fucking pleasure) and...not.  Having the ability to play on both sides is a god damn gift for a wordy person like myself

His hidden sense of humour - call it goofy in the x factor days, call it cynically sarcastic towards those that annoy him, call it dumb when he's under the influence.  Any way you tag it, it's there and it's subtle and it's lovely

His (relatively) calm demeanour - what can't I do with this?  Perhaps it's because I'm quite chilled myself, but I think writing about someone who isn't crazy outgoing is refreshing and a lot less hectic for people to read about

His ability to emit warmth without direct words - Liam can do this too, but Liam's much more verbal with how he praises/loves/gives attention, whereas Zayn will show you all of that.  It's necessary to really get into a character/celebrity's psyche when writing fanfiction, and when you really understand who Zayn is as a person, it's clear that he most often cherishes through actions.  I love weaving this into his characters through touches or subtle lines or gifts or things he notices.  They're all extremely faint - the reason he takes Liam into specific graphic novels and not just any in Customer of the Month, how he's the one to instigate every relationship first in Red vs. Black (first date, first kiss, first meeting of a family member, first 'I love you'), how he treats Liam in the second half of The Heart of Him, what you pointed out: how he falls in love during Kick, Push.

I do all of this on purpose to get into the reader's subconscious and make the characters my own while also still very much making them recognizable as the two people you love reading about.

Fanfiction is such an art shrouded in finesse if you do it correctly.  I’ve written a whole essay on my Patreon about how/why I view Liam and Zayn from a psychological standpoint in order to write fanfiction that I can also take major creative liberty with.  It’s my belief that only when you know how to tread the fine line between writing a person and writing about a person, can you get away with this.

[kaitycole]

Once Upon an Us

Summary: Riley wants Liam, but Liam wants Drake.

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Liam, Riley x ???

Word Count: 4254

Warnings: (16+) Mentions of cheating and arguing. Vague mentions of sexual relations. Angst. Fluff.

A/N: The wonderful, beautiful, talented @dcbbw requested either Liam x MC angst to Driam fluff. While trying to figure out which one to do, my brain said ‘why not both?’ Here we are. Enjoy! 

Note: In my series ‘A Royal Mess’ I mentioned another empty duchy (similar to Valtoria) as being Mirandola and Leo was tilted the Duke of it, so we’re just gonna reuse it for this one too! This is NOT an extension of that series, btw.

Note 2: I have no idea what this is. A mess, that’s what. But here we go. 

It has been three years since Riley Brooks took Cordonia by storm, quickly becoming the one who won the polls for who the country felt would best serve by Liam’s side. While it didn’t take long the citizens to be smitten with her, a few others around the palace weren’t so captured by her and there was one who remained as icy towards her as he had been from day one.

*                      * The Palace

Liam is sitting at the head of the table, sipping his coffee while reading the various newspapers in front of him. It still surprised him just how different one paper was from another, reporting the same story but from opposite viewpoints, so certain their points were more factual than the others. But as King, it was important to be thoroughly informed.

“Liam.” Riley smiles at him, sitting to his left as a server brings her a plate of breakfast.

“Mm.” He hums in response, not taking a moment to even look from his paper.

She nods slightly before dropping any expectations they might share a meal with playful banter or exchanges common between married couples. Riley smiles when her and Liam’s assistants join them to go over their schedules and upcoming engagements.

Riley just nods as he chews on her bottom lip. She knew what she was getting into, at least she knew to an extent that Liam’s heart belonged to another and she simply made the best stand-in. She knew when she accepted his proposal that she was just playing a role for the Crown, for the citizens of the country, but even with knowing that, it didn’t help the gaping hole in her chest.

“Is the paperwork for Valtoria complete?” Liam asks his assistant who has been jotting down a few notes.

“Almost, Sir. We just need the Crown’s seal and your signature.” His assistant Andrew tells him, an uneasy expression on his face. “Does this weekend still work?”

“Yes. Please make sure my schedule is cleared starting Thursday and leave it open until Sun- no, until Monday.”

“What’s the weekend?” Riley asks innocently, looking at her husband for clarification, who doesn’t bother to look her way.

“It’s when Valtoria is scheduled to have a new Duke placed in power, Ma’am.” Juliet, Riley’s assistant, answers.

“I wasn’t aware that we had picked someone this soon.” “The deci-“ Andrew is cut off when Riley raises her hand.

“I’d like to hear this from my husband. Liam?”

He sighs, annoyed. “I didn’t think you needed to know the details. It’s not like it honestly concerns you.”

Juliet and Andrew share a quick glance before standing up, excusing themselves and bowing as they leave the royal couple alone.

“Is it not enough that you treat me like a burden rather than a wife, but you really have to parade him around?”

“You knew exactly what you were getting into.”

“Don’t pull that card with me, Liam. If I knew it was going to be like this, I would’ve never agreed.”

“You’re the Queen of Cordonia. You have endless funds, endless resources, anything you could ever want or need, but somehow you are still miserable. I don’t understand you, Riley.”

“And a husband who wouldn’t notice if I wasn’t there.” She tries to steady her voice, anger lacing her words, “you promised that you would try!”

Shaking his head, Liam stands up, pushing his chair in with more force than necessary. Riley stands up slamming her hands on the table, letting her anger out as he starts walking out of the room, ignoring her.

“I did, Riley. The results just weren’t for your liking.”

She rushes up behind him, grabbing his suit jacket to stop him which causes him to whip around, anger plastered on both of their faces. He’s leaning down just enough for the two of them to stay nose to nose.

“Do NOT grab me, I am the King!” “And I Queen!” Despite his attempt to shut her down with his aggressive tone, she remains firm. “I won’t be ignored!”

“What do you have to say? I have things to do.”

“You can give him as many fancy titles as you want, Liam. It doesn’t change how the citizens will view him, it won’t change who you’re married to or who will be the one to give the throne heirs.”

As her words are processed, his anger dissipates changing into remorse. This façade cracking as each word sinks deeper into his chest, the realization of just how right she is becoming added weight in his chest. He’s been selfish, not only with his proposal to Riley, but to the man who owns his heart, but what could he have done? One can’t live without a heart, he couldn’t let him go, right?

She stops, knowing she’s wounded him, looking slightly over her shoulder as she adds salt to cut she’s left. “If you’re going to Valtoria this weekend, I’ll be heading to Mirandola.”

He snaps his head and turns to speak, but she’s gone. He knows he has no right to get mad, to demand that she stay home in the palace while he’s away. He feels like he might have had the right had he tried, had he actually upheld his end of the botched proposal he gave her, but he didn’t. He never intended to try with her because if he was being honest, he knew if he had he might’ve ended up regretting dragging her into this mess in the first place. He’d spend every night in his lover’s arms instead of across the hall from the woman he was all but forced to marry, who he forced to marry him under false expectations.

*                      * Valtoria

Liam falls to his side, panting next to his lover as he props himself up on his right side, facing him. Drake pushes his chest off the sheets, a smile on his face as he meets Liam’s eyes. Liam feels his heart melt at the pure adoration in Drake’s eyes because he didn’t care how miserable things were at the palace, in moments like this, the look in Drake’s eyes made up for all of that if only for a few days a month.

Drake places his hand on Liam’s cheek, his thumb caressing the thin layer of stubble on the King’s face. He wrinkles his nose when Liam leans forward, kissing his forehead. “What’s bothering you?”

Liam cocks his head to the side, his fingers running through the brunette’s damp hair. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t shave, that usually means something’s on your mind.”

“Riley said something to me a few days ago, just been on my mind I guess.”

The brunette stiffens at her name, of all the people he remains the only one who refuses to accept her, to try to warm up to her. He bites his bottom lip just enough for it to bleed because he needs to feel something other than this sinking feeling in his stomach. He pushes himself off the bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor, putting them on before gathering the other articles of abandoned clothing.

“Drake, talk to me.” He tries to stop Drake, but he’s just pushed out of the way. “Drake.”

Tears are in his eyes when they look up to Liam’s, his heart already in shattered pieces, “she’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Now it was time for Liam’s heart to break, to become a mess of jagged edges piercing into his chest. He wanted to be hurt, to question why Drake would doubt his love for him, but he can’t be because it’s only natural. Neither he nor Riley had ever brought it up, but it was something that always lingered in the air, something that eventually would start to be expected from the royal couple. Leo and Liam had both, in their own ways, shook the foundation of the throne, an heir would help stabilize it once more.

Liam pulls the other into an embrace, tightly wrapping his arms around him. He places both hands, one on each side of Drake’s face, pulling his face up to look at him. Drake’s eyes are red and puffy, but he still looks handsome to the King. Liam presses a chaste kiss to his lover’s lips, deepening it with hopes his love could be translated through the gesture.

Their actions are desperate as sloppy, wet kisses trail each other’s necks, Liam’s fingers toying with the waistband of Drake’s boxers as they attempted to make their way to the bed. Their steps get tangled together causing them to fall to the floor, small laughter coming from both of them. Drake shakes his head when Liam tries to get up, pinning the raven-haired man’s arms above his head as he straddles him. Liam smirks, both noting this will be the second day they fail to leave the grand suite of Valtoria.

*                      * Mirandola

“You could always just get an annulment.”

“And go back to waiting tables in New York?” She shakes her head, “how do I go back to black and white when I’ve seen color?” Leo offers a small smile, looking at her over his reading glasses. “I’m sure you could talk him into gifting you one of these lovely duchies. Valtoria is lovely this time of year.” She tosses him an annoyed look which gets her a chuckle from the abdicated prince. She knows that she’d be able to get something if all of this ended, the façade, the sham of a marriage, but part of that feels wrong. She just wanted to be happy, that’s why she left New York to begin with, she thought this would be a magical adventure. Something should’ve clued her in when Drake never let up his annoyed glances at her or how he tried to interfere with every secret meeting Liam would ask Riley to attend.

At first, Riley flattered herself, thinking that Drake had feelings for her, but then a drunken Maxwell let it slip that Drake and Liam had a relationship deeper than just best friends. That the social season might’ve been traditional protocol in the public’s eye for a Crown Prince, but that his father was using it as an alternative method to separate them.

“Did you hear? Drake now owns Valtoria.” She smiles as Leo chokes on his tea, coughing as he tries to breathe. “Liam is up there now.”

“I didn’t know he had it in him.”

“To parade his lover around as if he doesn’t have a wife?”

Leo walks behind her, leaning close to her ear, his hot breath dances around her bare neck, “aren’t you doing something similar? You are here after all.”

Riley watches as he walks out, tossing her a wink before he leaves the dining room. Her shoulders drop, knowing that he’s right. She doesn’t have any moral high ground to stand on, while she didn’t make it a hobby to think about whatever her husband did at Valtoria, she knew what she was doing here was no better.

Falling into Leo’s bed wasn’t something she thought she would ever do. She really did love Liam, she wanted things to work, why else would she agree to the fucked-up arrangement? It broke her heart to watch him turn colder and colder towards her when all she wanted was the chance to win him over. But she allowed herself to believe that one Rhys was just as good as the other, not that Leo cared whose name she called out anyways.

*                      * Valtoria

“Pout all you want. I can’t stay babe.” Liam laughs, pulling Drake into a kiss.

“But we never finished our talk from Friday?” Drake once again pokes out his bottom lip at the King who has been trying to leave for the last hour.

Liam had been hoping that Drake would’ve dropped the subject over the weekend, he figured between the strenuous workouts and the ceremony making him the newest Duke of Valtoria would keep him occupied, but he was wrong.

“She said it didn’t matter how many fancy titles I gave you, it wouldn’t change anything.” Liam shakes his head, “that at the end of the day it was her with me and not you.”

He turns his head, looking at Liam with the same adoration he always had, since they were kids, “she’s with you on paper, so what? I get the side of you no one else does.”

“But don’t you feel cheated?” Liam sighs, “or like I’m just being too selfish? Maybe I should’ve fought my father more.”

Drake kisses Liam, rendering him speechless which makes both of them smirk. “Hush. If you’re being selfish, I’m being just as selfish. I just want you, Liam.”

“One day, it won’t be like this anymore.” Liam promises, pressing one more kiss to Drake’s lips before letting him go.

“I know.” Drake waves, finally letting Liam leave to go back to the palace, back to her.

*                      * The Palace

It’s late when Riley stumbles back into the palace, getting a few not so nice looks from the maids who are getting ready to head home. She gives them an ‘I’m sorry’ smile as she tiptoes up the stairs up to the right wing of the palace.

Within that wing, was the traditional royal suite where most royal couples stay together, sharing the bed chamber. However, in their situation, Liam opted to take a room just down the hall while Riley kept the original set up. Just few apart from one another, but it felt like miles worth of distance.

“Enjoy your weekend?”

Riley jumps, her heart beating against her ribcage, if she was a cat she’d have lost a life or two for sure. Typically, Liam was either in his room or office, they didn’t have many run ins this late at night.

“Did you?” She bit back, regretting it once she realized his words were sincere. Although she wasn’t shy about the way her eyes lingered on the purple marks accompanied by bite marks that covered his chest and shoulders which caused Liam to regret his decision to not wear a shirt.

“I did a lot of thinking.” He crosses his arms, feeling embarrassed under her gaze, trying to cover up as much as he could.

“I did as well.” She sits down on the edge of the bed, sighing.

“I think we should start the annulment process.” Liam says as Riley says, “I want us to give it one more try.”

Both quickly respond with, “what?”

“If we try and things don’t work out, I won’t ask for another try. I just don’t want to have any regrets.”

“Riley, I can’t do that. You know that.” He shakes his head.

To Riley, Liam is being stingy and selfish. He’s been an asshole to her because she’s fairly convinced that if he gave her a chance, she could win him over. She knows that they could be happy, that she’s the best thing for the throne and that’s what hurts the most. The fact that she knows she’s found her true love, the one she should be with, but he just won’t open his eyes and accept that.

To Liam, Riley is being irrational. He knows that giving her a chance would be leading her on because he can’t give her what she’s looking for. Not just that he can’t, but he won’t. What people don’t seem to realize, Riley included, is that he’s loved Drake for as love as he can remember, that with Drake it’s the kind of love that starts wars, breaks family ties, it’s the kind of love people write sonnets about. It may seem like he’s fine with the arrangement, but he’s not because if Leo is different that all the other Rhys before him, it’s that he actually hurts when he causes other’s harm.

“Why can’t you?” She yells, her anger turning into tears as they stream down her face.

“I can’t hurt him like that. I can’t hurt him anymore than I already have.”

“But you can hurt me? You asked me to do this!”

“I told you how things would be. I never lied.”

“But you never said it would be this bad!” Her voice cracks, the sobs breaking apart her words.

“Riley.” He squats down in from of her, taking her hand in his. “I never meant for you to get this hurt. I’ll do whatever it takes to try to make this up to you.”

“All I ever wanted was you, Li.” She throws her arms around his neck, pulling him into her chest. He stumbles at the force of her action, sighing in defeat as he wraps his arms back around her.

*                      * Valtoria

Drake walks through the duchy, other than a few servants and maids, he was the only one there. It’s empty and lonely, the opposite of how he spent his life growing up by the palace and he hates it. There’s the buzz of construction outside, Liam was having a stable put up or remodeled, honestly Drake lost track of everything lately.

He’s walking through the foyer when he sees a few black SVUs pull up, a smile spreads across his face because he knows Liam’s there. Drake’s surprised because Liam usually waited a few weeks before making another visit, but he surely wouldn’t complain.

Rushing to the door, he opens it, running down most of the walkway before throwing his arms around the King, the hell with whoever saw, he really didn’t care. But Liam doesn’t return the embrace, he doesn’t pat his back or anything. Instead he pulls away, slowly meeting Drake’s eyes with a solemn look on his face.

“We need to talk.”

*                      * Mirandola

Leo walks into his study and looks panicked when he sees his brother sitting behind the desk. He knows the look on Liam’s face, the same one he got a lot growing up by his father and Bastien, one that just radiates disappointment. A chill runs down his spine as he tries to keep up a poker face, pacing out each step slowly as he creeps closer to the desk.

The blonde eventually gets to the chair in front of Liam and he sits, wondering if this dread he’s feeling is felt by those who sit here when he’s on the other side of the desk. It’s been a very long time since he’s felt this way, since a King has made him feel so, so small.

Liam shuffles the papers that are in front of him, tapping them on the desk to straighten them out before finally making eye contact with his brother.

“I didn’t do it!” Leo quickly blurts out until he realizes that he’s a grown ass man and that what a child would say.

“Oh, but you did.” Liam smiles a smile that’s closer to the Cheshire Cat rather than a caring brother. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

Leo has always hated riddles, always hated people beating around the bush when it came to what they needed to say. It’s the same reason he hates the cringy small talk before one asked for a favor, he finds it all pointless and Liam knows this which makes Leo’s stomach drop. Whatever it is, it’s bad enough for Liam to toy with him.

“Don’t look so grim, brother. A child is always something to celebrate.”

C-c-child? Leo suddenly can’t breathe. His thoughts are becoming a jumbled mess.

“Don’t fret. I already have things in order.” Liam holds the stack of paperwork out for Leo, who is shaking as he grabs it.

“In order?”

“Yes.” Liam clears his throat. “Riley couldn’t take the stresses of being queen which lead her to seek comfort with you. Since regardless of which Rhys is the father is, it’s still an heir which means she’ll be moving into Mirandola after a quick marriage ceremony.”

“Guess you get everything you want.”

“No, actually I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I didn’t want her name drug in my mud, Leo. I may not have loved her, but I care for her and I was working out a way that would be easiest for her to still show her face at royal events without whispers.” Leo bites back any further comments knowing that he’s been thinking poorly of his brother for no reason. He should’ve guessed Liam would look out for her, he wasn’t joking when he said Riley wouldn’t be left empty-handed, but it was his doing, the abdicated prince once again tarnishing the very things he wants to keep precious.

“Chin up, brother.” He turns to walk out of Leo’s office. “Oh, don’t worry, hopefully you’ll make a better father than brother.”

*                      * Valtoria

“Duke Walker!” A reporter calls out trying to grab the attention of the man who just wants to disappear.

“Your Grace! Your Grace!”

He turns to the sea of cameras and flashing lights, briefly wondering if this overwhelming feeling was something Liam got used to or if he still wants to shrink under this uncomfortable pressure.

It had been a few months since Liam told him about Riley’s pregnancy, how they’d be handling things on that end and Drake was told to wait which he has been. He’s been waiting since they were 8 years old, blinding following Liam around like a pup without a home. At 28, you’d think he’d stop following so blindly, try to step out from the sidelines, but it’s where he felt most comfortable.

“Duke Walker, what’s next for you and the King?” “Your Grace, will you be leaving Valtoria for the palace?”

“What do you have to say about the pictures of you and King Liam holding hands, Your Grace?”

Drake takes a deep breath, wanting to just turn around and leave, but his feet feel frozen in place. This wasn’t his thing, Liam always stood front and center. If Liam was north then Drake was south, if Liam was day then Drake was night and for their whole lives he liked it that way.

“The Duke of Valtoria won’t be answering any questions today.”

A few wide eyes and gasps from the reporters have Drake turning around to see Liam walking up behind him, a smile on his face. It takes everything in him to not run up to his lover, beg him to get rid of the press so he can kiss him, but he can’t. He gives Liam a small smile as he walks up, stopping at Drake side.

“Your Majesty.” The reporters take a moment to bow slightly as he throws up a wave.

“I think we have time to answer two questions.” He looks over at Drake who gives him a slight nod.

“Your Majesty, what brings you to Valtoria today?” De Luca asks, looking over her sunglasses.

“That’s simple, I have to ask Duke Walker a question.”

He wouldn’t? Drake’s eyes widen as he looks at Liam, who is completely calm whereas the Duke’s heart is beating out of his chest.

“King Liam, are the Duke and you the newest royal couple?” A newer reporter asks, getting a few looks from his veteran colleagues.

“That would depend on his answer to this question.”

Drake closes his eyes, nerves completely shot at this point, trying his hardest to breathe in and out at a steady rate. When he opens them, he sees Liam down on one knee in front of him, the presses snapping pictures rapidly.

“Li…”

“Are you gonna let me speak first?”

“No.” “Drake.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. In front of everyone.” “Quickest way to get the word out.” “I could say no.” Drake crosses his arms, momentarily forgetting they aren’t alone. The press having an absolute field day with the playful banter between the King and his oldest friend.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He feigns shocks, a hand on his chest, biting back a smirk, “you’d embarrass me in front of the whole country? The whole world?” “Isn’t that what you’re doing to me by asking me this right now?”

Liam shakes his head, “I haven’t asked you anything yet, you haven’t let me.” “Fine. Ask me.”

“Will you attend the royal masquerade with me tonight?” “I wi-wait, what?” Drake’s jaw drops which is quickly followed by the press having the same reaction.

“What did you think I was going to ask?” He stands up, whipping on the knees of his pants. “Drake, did you think I was going to propose?”

Drake’s face turns red with embarrassment, “well you did get down on one knee.” “My shoe lace was undone. I didn’t want to trip.” Liam smirks, “that could’ve ended embarrassing, what if you said no?”

“My point exactly.” Drake’s grumpy demeanor surfacing from a mixture of embarrassment and slight disappointment.

“But would you?”

“Would I what?”

Liam smiles, pulling a small box out of his box, remaining on his feet this time. The flash of the cameras once again all but blinding the pair. There’s a silver band inside the box when Liam opens it.

“Would you marry me?”

Drake buries his beet red face into the crook of Liam’s neck as he’s pulled into a hug. He mumbles something just loud enough for Liam to be the only one who hears it which makes the king laugh. Liam whispers something back which brings a sigh from Drake’s lips as he lifts his head up.

“Yeah, I’ll marry you.”

[urmomsstuntdouble]

if u have any sidenotes/remarks about that itabros thing u just posted i would LOVE to hear!!!

ah thanks! i do have some more things to say about that actually

so first of all, i wrote it in 2nd person and in the first tense. this was sort of done to remove romano from the story while also bringing it closer to his mind/heart/whatever. he’s disassociating himself from his own life while it’s happening, and doesn’t actually recognize himself as the narrator of his own story, if that makes sense. it’s mostly because of character but also because romano is often depicted in canon as being less excited about unification. he doesn’t feel like he’s in control.  

anyway now that that’s out of the way its time to talk about their relationship! i think i’ve said this before but their relationship has very little foundation, and what foundation it does have is broken at best. because they were apart for so long during their youth, they missed out on the joint development that most siblings have. they are of course immortal siblings but not living together while their personalities developed is a crucial thing that’s lead to their rough relationship. I think they never thought they’d be unified, so they went about their lives as if they wouldn’t, as more like cousins than siblings. i imagine that they were very close when they were first born, but through most of the late medieval and early modern period they struggled to relate to each other on anything other than religion. i tried to portray that with romano being very wary of veneziano, and sort of anxious around him- though they live together, so it’s not like he’s super anxious all the time, but he’s generally unhappy and it’s taking a toll on him. he doesn’t feel like he can really breathe around veneziano.

i sort of wrote it under the idea that they misunderstand what the other wants in life and how the other loves. veneziano likes verbal affirmations and physical contact, and generally soft things. he wants to be constantly reminded that you love him, and is a pretty insecure person. he shows love by treating others how he wants to be treated, which, unfortunately, isn’t how romano likes to be loved. sure, romano likes it when someone takes care of him- he actually really likes it, and it’s one of the reasons that he likes spain so much- but the way that they take care of him matters too. he often feels useless, so all care needs to be subtle, the sort he only realizes later on. i talk about this in the timestamp 16:00, when he says “Even so, you could lean back on your fiance’s chest whenever you pleased.” his engagement to spain is sort of blurry but whatever. his comfort needs to be within his control, and he can’t get that with veneziano. 

i also tried to give it a generally ambiguous vibe, because i don’t think they’re actually capable of hating each other. they certainly dislike each other, but couldn’t hate each other. part of this is because they’re family and romano is too traditional to hate his own kin. but also, since unification in 1861, they have been through some tough times together. one of the reasons hima said that south italy has its own personification is because of the n*zi occupation of the north and the civil war (1943). i think that’s super important bc they’re also shown to be together during the occupation. if they truly hated each other, i think romano would’ve left veneziano in the north instead of letting him come down to what was still italian occupied or allies occupied territory. and yeah i know canon is usually not so great and this might be a lil bit of fuzzy territory, but i think it’s indicative of a love they both struggle with. the 20th century was also kinda rough, though, and it forced them to bond, which leaves them here, in this sort of limbo state where they can’t relate but also care about each other very deeply. and romano is pleased that he has a family- i think family is super important to him, like one of the most important things in the world, and he feels guilty that his own is such a mess. 

even so, they’re trying. they’re always going to try because it would be easier to love each other than to hate each other. 

[clumsyclifford]

don’t need money, don’t need sleep (just need your pretty face)

hi !!!!! some jalex fluff for you all :)

back when i was looking to start writing some jalex i requested prompts from my friends and @tirednotflirting gave me three from this list: 14, 23, and 82. sam i am sorry it took me so long to get this done (and that it’s not like, my best work or anything) but i am treating this like a prompt fic even though you never actually sent the prompt to my inbox so here it is as its own post. how exciting

title is from bottle and a beat by all time low god that song really did not deserve to be a b-side have i mentioned i love all time low?? was that evident?? anyway. onward

read it here on ao3

Jack yawns. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep, you dolt,” Alex says, although it’s dripping with fondness and he’s sure Jack can tell, even over Skype.

“No,” Jack says. “Talking to you.”

“We can talk tomorrow,” Alex says logically. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Mm, that’s too long,” Jack says, and then yawns again. “Alex,” he says, stretching out the vowel, “I’m tired. ” He closes his eyes and buries his head on his pillow. The angle of his camera really should be unflattering, but Alex is so in love, and he misses falling asleep with Jack so much, that even getting to see his almost-asleep face is feeding a part of him.

“You want me to sing you something?” Alex asks. Jack smiles, or at least the visible half of his face does.

“Just tell me about your day,” he says. His voice is barely audible and his lips hardly move; he’s clearly just on the verge of falling asleep completely. Alex is concerned for his phone battery.

“I’ve told you about my day already,” he says.

“Tell me again. I like to hear your voice.”

They’re so ridiculous, Alex realizes. They are the shitty rom-com couples that people point at to say look how unrealistic that is. Nobody acts like that in real life. But Alex is happy with Jack, happier than he’s ever been, and he thinks that’s more than worth the cheesy tropes.

“Alright,” Alex says. He settles back against the hotel pillows. They’re too soft; if Jack were here he’d have a lot of choice words about that. Jack’s firm anti-soft-pillow stance has taken over their bed — all of their pillows are relatively unyielding. Yet another way that Jack has made himself a permanent fixture in Alex’s life. God, Alex loves him. “Well, I woke up at the hell hour of five in the morning, and then I tried to Google Maps my way to the radio station, which didn’t work, and I ended up kind of lost. So then I called Rian, because obviously I didn’t want Bryan to know I got lost, and Rian just laughed at me, and then together we figured it out — there are two places here with the same address, like, one is the radio station and the other is, like, a convenience store, so I don’t know what kind of planning went into that? Anyway, the radio promo stuff was fine, and then I went and got coffee and called my boyfriend, except he didn’t pick up because he was still asleep, and I should have probably known better than to try and call, so I left him a really cute message that I bet he still hasn’t listened to.”

Alex pauses, watches the screen. Jack’s breathing is even. He’s never been the kind of person who could fall asleep right away, but now must be an exception, or maybe he’s more tired than usual, because he’s already dropped off, and his phone is moving irregularly until it finally slips out of Jack’s grasp and the screen goes dark, face-down on the bed. Alex smiles. “And then I had a boring day and then I Skyped my boyfriend and he had the audacity to fall asleep while I was in the middle of talking to him,” he concludes. “And I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Jack doesn’t reply, so Alex resolves to remind him tomorrow. Maybe without calling him sweetheart, though. Jack doesn’t take kindly to nicknames unless they’re grossly unrealistic (sugarplum, and such).

For the moment, though, Alex listens to Jack breathe slowly, and then he hangs up the call, sets his phone aside, and pulls the covers over himself. Sleeping alone is one of Alex’s least favorite things, but he’s lulled to sleep by the promise of not having to do it again tomorrow night.

-

“Hi,” Jack breathes, throwing his arms around Alex’s neck. Alex gives a little, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and squeezing tight.

“Hi. I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Jack echoes. “More. Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Alex laughs. “You heard my voice yesterday.”

“Not like this,” Jack says, bringing his hands reverently to Alex’s throat like he wants to feel the way it moves when Alex talks. “It’s so much better in person.”

“That’s rude,” Alex says. “You listen to my voice on recordings all the time. Are you saying I’m worse on albums than I am live?”

“Whatever,” Jack says, drawing Alex into a kiss. He’s managed to suspiciously sidestep the question — Alex will have to interrogate him further later on —  but for now he just hugs Jack close. Yet another cheesy rom-com trope: kissing on the doorstep.

It makes Alex chuckle, so it might do it for Jack too. Alex pulls away. “They should make a Hallmark movie about us.”

“Fuck, I’d love that,” Jack says, grinning and stealing another kiss off Alex’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Hallmark movie, but I’d watch it if you were in it. Or if I was in it, honestly.”

“I don’t think they’d cast us as ourselves.” Their acting careers begin and end with the “Something’s Gotta Give” music video. “And I would want to be played by Jason Statham.”

“Jason Statham? Why the fuck?”

It had really just been the first name to come to mind, so Alex shrugs. “Handsome and British?”

Jack snorts. “I want to be played by Brad Pitt then.”

“What the fuck do you and Brad Pitt have in common?”

“Uh, excuse me? We’re both sexy and have cult followings.”

Alex laughs, loud. “Got me there.” It makes Jack smile indulgently, all pleased like he’d gotten precisely the reaction he’d wanted, and Alex loves him so much it threatens the break the seams holding his heart together and just flood him. It might already have done.

“Okay, it’s cold,” Jack says. “You’re letting all the fucking air in, you asshole.”

“You can’t be nice for more than one minute.” Alex edges past Jack into the house. It’s true they’re letting the cold night air inside, but if Jack’s going to be a shithead then two can play that game.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” Jack whines as they walk together to the bedroom. Alex drops his bag on the floor. He can unpack it later. Tomorrow, or the day after, or next week — definitely at some point. Maybe he can harass Jack into unpacking it for him. Bribe him with sexual favors or a fancy dinner or something.

“Babe, you’re preaching to the choir,” Alex says. He’s exhausted. Travel takes it out of him, and the prospect of curling up with Jack, cold feet pressed against calves under the warmth of the blanket, is so appealing it almost makes Alex cry. Putting on a silly affectation, he says, “Prepare the bed, monsieur, and I shall join you presently.”

“Ah, yes,” Jack says, rolling with it — because he’s the best and weirdest boyfriend ever, and so perfect for Alex — with an exaggerated bow. He jumps into bed, already pajama-clad in boxers and one of Alex’s shirts, kicking down the covers so they’re far back enough for Alex to slip underneath. In a French accent, he says, “Le bed is prepared, monsieur Gaskarth.”

“Merci,” Alex says, which is about the extent of his French knowledge. Carelessly discarding his travel clothes, he grabs a comfier shirt and pulls it on. Then he clambers into bed, Jack’s arm settling comfortably over his shoulders. Even more than their reunion hug/kiss/debate at the door, lying down with Jack in their bed at home restores in Alex a sense of peace that he only finds here. He wishes it existed in words instead of just feelings, but it doesn’t. Alex would know; he’s tried, hundreds of times, to write it down, has filled pages with efforts to find an adequate description, but there’s nothing like the feeling. Nothing like just being at home with Jack, redundant though that is.

(If it’s Jack, it’s home. But it’s nice to have a place where they can mutually agree to be at home with each other.)

“I missed this,” Jack murmurs, leaning his head onto Alex’s shoulder as Alex shifts to accommodate him. “Before you say it, I know you were only away for a day, but I can still miss it.”

“I was going to say I missed you too,” Alex says. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, Jack, come on. I was only gone for a day. Don’t get clingy.”

Jack bites Alex’s shoulder and Alex laughs. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I’m joking,” Jack adds, yawning.

Alex reaches across Jack’s lap to grab his hand. It’s a little awkward, holding Jack’s left hand with his own, but they make it work. “Okay. Tell me about your day. We didn’t talk all day because I was traveling.”

Jack hums. “Seriously, now?”

“I talked you to sleep last night,” Alex protests. “It’s only fair.”

“So you don’t even want to know about my day? You’re just going to fall asleep?”

Alex shakes his head as Jack straightens up in mock-indignance. “Come on,” he entreats Jack, shuffling lower to curl up against him. Jack’s not small in most ways, because he’s the tallest in the band, and his personality fills every room like a gas, reaching the corners no matter how far they are. But he’s so skinny, so many lean lines, that it should be more difficult to cuddle up to him. Still, Alex finds it surpassingly easy. He rests his head against Jack’s chest, immediately attuned to the steady beat of his heart. When the foundations of Alex’s world are crumbling to the ground, when he’s grasping at straws or gasping for air, he can always sink an anchor into Jack’s heartbeat.

Objectively, it’s just a ba-bump rhythm like any other, but it’s music to Alex, and music has always been his driving force.

“Fine,” Jack huffs, curling his fingers into the cotton of Alex’s shirt. Alex burrows into him, closing his eyes, sliding his legs between Jack’s under the covers and slinging one arm over Jack’s stomach. “But it wasn’t that exciting. Mostly I just waited for you to get home.” Yeah, right. Even Jack can’t sit around doing nothing for a full day. “I don’t know. I washed my dishes from yesterday. Listened to all of Enema start to finish. Called my mom. It wasn’t that eventful.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” Alex mumbles, feeling his lips buzz against fabric. “Proud of you for doing the dishes, though.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It won’t happen again.”

Alex smiles, too tired to laugh. “Sure.”

Jack is gently rubbing his knuckles against Alex’s back. “That was it. Not a lot to report, I told you.” “How’s your mom?”

“Good. She asked about you.”

“Oh? What did you say?”

“That you went dark side and became a drug dealer.” Alex snorts. “She took it well, of course. Told me she always knew you were a drug dealer inside and that she was glad you were living your truth.”

“She did not say that.”

“I am one hundred percent serious, I can call her right now and ask.”

If Alex weren’t so worn out, he’d keep up the banter, but he’s pretty sure neither of them are up for it at the moment, so he lets it drop. For a few minutes, they sink into an easy quiet. Alex sighs, content. His soul has stopped its restless search for comfort, now that he’s home, now that they’re reunited, and the calm washing over him is stronger than a sedative. “Mm, I’m so tired,” he says, mouth barely moving. “Wanna sleep.”

“I’ve been tired for, like, twenty-four hours,” Jack says. “Go to sleep. I’m right there with you.” He drops a kiss onto the top of Alex’s head, knuckles still tracing their pattern just under Alex’s shoulder blades, a sweet soporific lulling Alex to the edges of consciousness. He wants to kiss Jack goodnight, but he doesn’t have the energy to move. As it is, he’s pretty sure he’s already drifted off.

“G’night,” he remembers to say.

Jack drums his fingertips over Alex’s back, and even though Alex can’t see him, he knows Jack is smiling. “‘Night. Love you.”

Fuck, that’s what he’d forgotten. “Love you,” Alex exhales with the last of his waking energy, and falls asleep after that, with no reason left not to.

(He would say I’m happy to be home, but he’s already said it with love you, and he knows that Jack knows.)

[souljaems]

↬ “let me let you go” greekgod!au 2 — huang renjun

— “Athena is destined to always win this not ending war, but this time some things are different. You and Renjun are the humans destined to be the reincarnation of the Greek gods and Athena already has awakened inside of you, not completely, but that’s how she can feel that some things are weird. (…) You have too many feelings for Renjun, way too many.”

1st chapter — Blurb intermission 1 — Blurb intermission 2

PAIRING | Hades!Renjun x Athena!reader, w/ mention of Mark as your brother. GENRE | Action - Drama - Angst. AU | greekgod!au WORD COUNT | 5.4K WARNINGS | Aggressive behaviour, violence, reincarnation, mention of death, bruises.  DISCLAIMER | I don’t know any of the NCT members personally, I’m writing this based only in my opinions and greek mythology. 

↬ PLAYLIST HERE 

“Milady?” Aioros asks before knocking on the door.

“Come in.” You answer, knowing that your friend won’t be satisfied after he sees that you didn’t eat as much as he wanted you to.

“As I can see, you’re still not hungry.” Aioros takes a deep breath before doing something with his eyebrow that brings you a memory from your brother, he used to do that all the time when he was worried.

Seeing your brother’s body in front of you wasn't easy, but seeing your brother’s body doing things that your brother used to do? That is a low punch.

“Is there anything that I can do to help you? You look pale.” Aioros asks, with concern all over his face. “You really should have eaten more, miss Y/N.”

For hours, you’ve been missing Renjun like crazy. It isn’t usual for you to be in control of your body for an entire day, but Athena doesn’t seem to be coming back any time soon, and you hate it. You hate how your entire body hurts. You hate the feeling that you’re constantly grasping for air, craving for a way out of that pain. Your heart aches. Your mind spins. Your hands are trembling. Your eyes hurt. Your body can’t seem to move probably. You want it to stop. 

But you just miss Renjun. 

Oh God, you miss your husband so fucking much. 

When the two of you decided to get married, both of your families thought you were insane. You two were young adults, how would you be ready for marriage? What did you know about falling in love in the first place? Easy, you didn’t. However, you and Renjun still loved each other like crazy. 

You learned how to cook with him. You learned how to clean the house with him. You learned how living felt like with him. Everything you thought you knew, you relearned it having Renjun by your side. Back then, Mark was the only one who supported your decision. He even walked down the aisle with you, since your father wasn’t Renjun’s biggest fan. Those two were your foundation, the ones you could always count on. You’ve always thought that you could always rely on them, that they would always be by your side. Today, you’ve been proven wrong. Neither of them is with you.

“I’m not hungry, just freezing.” You force your lips to move without thinking properly about the actual answer. But seconds after you did, you start to notice how cold your “room” is truly getting.

“Freezing?” Aioros furrows his brows in confusion. “But, we have a good temperature here and...” Aioros stops his sentence when he notices your hands shaking, which seems to be impossible since you have a thick blanket around your figure.

In a matter of seconds, Aioros finally starts to feel the freezing pressure coming from everywhere and smashing onto his body. That feeling, so unknown, but also very familiar, crashes into Aioros’ bones, causing his body to ache at the sudden pressure that it’s making it hard to breathe. It’s already dark outside, but something tells him that the dark blue sky has just turned into a dark deep black. Aioros knows pretty well what could make that happen, being more specific, who.

“Y/N.” You hear Aioros calling your name with a deep voice that you’ve known your entire life. That is Mark’s worried voice. “How long have you been feeling this cold sensation?” He questions in a quieter voice, as he inhales and exhales. The air feels heavier, you’re starting to feel it too.

“Aioros, what’s going on?” You ask, feeling a bunch of shivering going through your body and bristling your hair. “Why am I feeling this? What does this mean?”

“Answer me, please. I need to know how much time we have.” Aioros insists, forcing his body to move through that resistant force as he walks closer to you. “I don’t know, around an hour, maybe?” You answer, with your lips shaking as talking starts to become even harder.

“Damn it! If I’m feeling this just now, it means that he’s close, too much close. I don’t know if we can hide anymore at this point.” Aioros silently curses at the situation, looking around as he begins to think about any possible solutions to avoid a direct conflict. Without Athena in control, it’s too dangerous to risk your life in combat.

“Aioros? Him?” You question, not daring to say Hades name, feeling too afraid of the answer.

Aioros looks at you silently, still. He doesn’t wanna say the words. He doesn’t want to be the one who scares you with bad news. He doesn’t want to see you so sad again. But Hades is close, and as much as either of you want to say it out loud, you both know it.

“But you said that it would still take a while for him to come for us!” You state in a louder scared pitch, only to be quickly shushed by Aioros. “Apparently, he’s way earlier.” Aioros returns, as he starts to look for something in his pocket as if his life depends on it. And it does. “Athena was supposed to be awake in a situation like this. Why isn’t she in control?” He wonders more to himself than to you, not understanding why everything is so different from other past wars. “Can you hear her inside your head?”

“N-no, I can’t contact her.” You shake your head helplessly.

“It’s not here. Shit, I think I left it downstairs. Listen, I need you to stay here, sit on the floor and wait till I come back. We'll have to fight if we want a chance to escape.” Aioros tells you with a sudden light appearing on his eyes. He's ready to die for you if he has to, you can feel it. Somehow you know it.

Aioros is saying a lot of slang, Mark's personal problem when he's nervous. That's how you know things are a lot more serious than it sounds like. A lot more serious than the time allows to explain.

“Fight? Hold on, wait a minute, Aioros, I know nothing about fighting!” You contest in widened eyes. “Trust me, you do. Just wait here.” Aioros looks deep into your eyes for a few seconds before running out of the room, not giving you any chance to debate.

As you're left alone inside the room again, you sit on the cold floor with your head full of worries and for a second, you want to truly believe that it will be enough to keep you away from the hard truth, but when your eyes slip from your focus and shift to stare at your own hands, some forming tears start to appear. The cold Hades' pressure is not the only thing crashing into your heart right now, the fear is also burning you alive.

How can you even think about hurting the body of the man you decided to marry? The man your heart chose to be the one? Your head is not thinking straight in the middle of this situation; however, your heart would never be willing to make him go through any kind of pain.

The hard truth isn’t the fact that Hades is here. The hard truth isn’t the fact that you can barely move your body. The hard truth isn’t the fact that you know nothing about fighting.

Hard Truth time? If a miracle happens and you suddenly remember how to fight as much as Aioros says you do, you won't be able to hurt Hades if the opportunity appears.

“Athena, please, if you’re listening to me, I want you to take control, I mean, I need you to take control right now more than ever... Athena, these hands can’t hurt him. I can’t hurt him.” You let a small cry leave your lips as you stare at both of your opened hands. The same hands Renjun used to hold only a few weeks ago. “I know he’s Hades now and that he won’t hesitate if he has the chance to kill us, but I just can’t. I still love him with all of my heart.” You finish your quiet request with tears dropping off of your face directly to your hands.

Your sobbing is filling the entire room and the fear of Hades hearing you is no longer a problem. You wish you could scream and let the whole world know how miserable you’re feeling without him.

“Even if deep down I know how to fight as Aioros said, I can’t do this, and I can't lose my brother for good as well, so please, take control. Just take control. Do something. Anything." You whisper, putting all of your hopes in that next request. “Don't let me be the one to see the love of my life dying right in front of me.”

“Milady, I need you to let me put this on your neck.” Aioros quickly enters the door and whispers next to you. The second he notices the tears falling down your cheeks, a part of him breaks. 

That is exactly what he wanted to avoid so bad. He failed. He wants to dry all of those tears away, take you somewhere safe and just tell you that everything will be okay. But as the pressure starts to crash onto his heart, he knows that possibility could only be reached in a dream. 

“This is your armor, perhaps if you have it around your neck, it will help you to remember that you can fight.” Aioros explains as he gently pushes your hair to your neck, putting the gold necklace on you. “We just need some minutes, it will be enough to…”

“Athena! Where are you hiding, my dear old goddess friend? Don't be so rude. That is not the proper way to treat a guest.” Hades' tone is calm, but it also sounds too loud and noisy in your ears almost like he is right next to you, it's so loud that you have to contain yourself not to let a small cry leave your lips. “Especially, when we have some background history together, don't you agree?”

Even if you try to cover your ears, you know nothing will stop Hades' voice to sound loud and clear inside of you, that's the worst part of being somehow connected to the devil himself, you can't get away from him. Aioros puts his finger on his lips, indicating you to stay silent, although he knows nothing can mislead Hades now since your goddess presence attracts him. All he knows is that you need a plan, fast.

“You cannot hide her forever, Aioros.” Hades addresses as he finally stops at the front of the warehouse where you're hiding with Aioros. “Why don't you come out here? We have some unfinished business.”

“He's here.” You mouth with no sound.

At this moment, you know you have no other choice, but to rise, despite not knowing exactly how to do that.

“I don't think your unfinished business involves Aioros, Hades.” You warn him, as you finally stand up close to the open window, letting the thick blanket slip off of your figure.

You can feel Aioros' eyes burning you in the second after you've done it and when your eyes finally meet with Hades', part of you immediately regrets your bold and unthinkable decision.

“Finally! I thought I would have to order my army to burn down all of this place just to find you. Thank you for avoiding such a waste of my time!” Hades states, still in a calm tone as a half-smile takes over his face.

For a second, your whole body petrifies. You know you're looking at Hades, the lord of the dead and the king of the underworld, however, it's extremely weird how angelic he looks and how soothing his voice is, it still sounds like Renjun's voice, but is also deeper, colder and has kind of authority to it. His eyes also burn yours. As much as Hades looks like Renjun, his eyes are nothing your husband’s. Renjun’s eyes used to give you comfort and warmth. Hades’ eyes give you nothing but fear and cold.  

The whole look paired with the black hair makes you forget for a second that what you’re seeing it's Renjun's body. However, it doesn't have the appearance of what you pictured Hades to look like either, which is good since you would never be capable of holding that firm posture if the vision ahead of you instantly related Hades to Renjun.

What can you say? It's hard to match an angelic appearance to the greek god who wants you dead. And as absurd as it may sound, you're thankful for it considering that it seems to be the only advantage you have against him.

In a blink of an eye, Hades opens his hands and a flash of cold black lightning hits the warehouse, obliging Aioros to quickly hold you close and jump out of the place before its explosion.

“Milady, I understand that he looks like the man you have loved your entire life, but this is Hades and I won't let him hurt you, even if you ask me to do so.” Aioros warns you as he carefully puts you on your feet again, his eyes never leaving Hades’ figure. “I will have to hurt him, you know that, right?” He stares at Hades, feeling his mythological sword finally physically appearing on his right hand. 

“I know.” You lament as one of your hands moves to your necklace, avoiding to look at Hades as you try to pick what’s left of your broken heart. What you feared the most is about to happen. “What's the plan?”

“What about not letting ourselves get killed? How does that sound?” Aioros asks in a fun tone, trying to ease your nervousness as he nimbly moves his sword in circles, stopping it only to point at Hades' direction.

“That sounds like Mark.” You smile at Aioros, hoping that Mark can sometimes talk to you through Aioros, even if his body is now fully reincarnated Aioros.

“That sounds insane, even for you Aioros. You should know that such a plan won't work, especially when I have an army by my side and there are just two of you.” Hades mocks Aioros’ suggestion, motioning with his head to all the army who’s behind him, just waiting till he says the words.

“Really? Allow me then to demonstrate why I'm the strongest Athena knight." Aioros snaps and faster than your eyes could see, he punches the floor, causing the ground to crack and open up, making dozens of Hades' soldiers fall into it before it magically closes.

You gasp, not really believing what your eyes have just seen. But since you have discovered that you have reincarnated Athena, nothing can deeply surprise you anymore. And as far as you can read Hades' unbothered expression, Aioros' attack didn't cause much surprise to him either.

“Your strength abilities remain in good shape, Aioros. If I was truly a human, I would say I'm impressed, but that's not why I'm here. Shall we end this?” Hades sarcastically chuckles while he starts to slowly walk towards Aioros' direction.

You're right behind Aioros and finally, for the first time, you feel something that is not burning fear. You feel your necklace burning around your neck and a golden light starts to surround your figure. Your first impulse is to think that Athena is finally taking the lead of your body, but the feeling rushing through your veins is different: YOU are taking the power. Your power. Part of you wants to believe it's just a crazy impulse, but when your body naturally reacts to Hades moving his hand to throw his dark power at you and Aioros, you know that's not just instinct, that's you.

You rapidly move to the front of Aioros, and before Hades could complete his strike, you move your arm and throw gold energy in the shape of a staff, Athena's mythological staff, right in Hades' direction.  

Hades looks incredulous for a second. But then, he recovers from his momentaneous shock fast enough to dodge your attack, regaining his imposing posture right after.

“So, you truly are the reincarnated Athena. I have to admit, I had my doubts about it since your aura didn't fit goddess greatness when I first saw you.” Hades admits as his calm and cold expression comes back to his face.

“How dare you to say that?” Aioros hisses with his eyes full of anger as he closes his fist, aiming to attack Hades to show him a piece of his mind, but you gracefully put your arm in front of him, stopping Aioros from doing so.

"Aioros, don't." Your voice sounds powerful, yet peaceful.

Aioros has been fighting by Athena's side since the age of mythology; and even if he wanted to, he could never confound her with anyone else. He knows her aura or in better words: Your aura.

“Y/N?” Aioros calls for your name in furrowed brows. Your eyes remain still locked in Hades. Aioros recognizes that fierce, yet elegantly look on your face. When seconds later, the mythological staff physically appears on your hand and by that, no doubts are required anymore. You’re somehow her. “Athena.” He states, finally letting a smile come to his lips when you nod with a side smile on your face.

Hades strikes another attack towards you, which you retaliate throwing an arrow made of your golden power that left the tip of your staff, on the direction of his attack, destroying Hades' attempt, however, the greek god manages to stop it with his open palm, crashing the arrow with his power that was centimeters of touching his skin.

“I see you’re weaker than I thought you were. As I can see, I’m not the only one going through a strange situation at this age with my usual body. However, I’m not a fool who's willing to fight a war without my full power capacity.” He smirks, making the golden arrow you throw at him turn to ashes as he closes his palm effortlessly, rubbing his hands together as if he’s cleaning them. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for you yet, I’m only here for Mark’s body.”

Something is different about you, and as much as Aioros tries to figure out what is it, nothing makes him so sure about the fact that somehow you have remained yourself, even with Athena's essence over you, like the next words you say:

“You will have to run over my dead body if that's what you wish.” You threaten him, taking a step forward and putting your body in front of your brother's body. You are not losing your brother. Not today.

“Oh, it will be my pleasure.” Hades smirks, striking another attack at you, but before it could hit your body, you position your mythological staff in front of your body, repelling his dark power back at him, causing one of his soldiers to jump in front of him to receive the attack instead of Hades. “It doesn't matter if my powers are not in their greatest moment in this age, I still am the goddess of strategy, have you forgotten about this?” You state, using the leverage of Hades' lack of attention to hit the floor with your staff, making thousands of Hades' soldiers fall on his feet.

He's standing still, staring at you almost like he is surprised at your last choices. Unlike the other times, you're being bold and not cold and calculating as usual. You are not acting like the old Athena he knows.

“So predictable. Not a good characteristic for someone who claims to be the goddess of strategy, war, and wisdom.” Hades ponders, trying to diminish your strange confidence while he raises his left hand, making all of his fallen soldiers get up on their feet again. “You can't kill the soldiers of the King of the underworld. I decide when they die.”

“But I can take down their leader, just like I've done before.” You chuckle, feeling your whole body being involved in a golden light as your suit armor finally gets out of your necklace to take place on your figure. The gold helmet, the shield on your left arm, your staff still on your right hand, all of them weighing nothing in comparison to the sparkle that has taken place in your now greyish eyes. That is what being a goddess feels like, it's like fire rushing and burning through your veins with nothing being more intense than that. Not even the glory of gold.

When you stare at Aioros', seeing him also with his armor on, you just know what you have to do. You start to run towards Hades with Aioros following and mirroring every single one of your moves from behind, like your own shadow, and before Hades could think about striking any other attack, you throw your staff towards him, causing Hades to again dodge your attack, exactly as you predicted. He just couldn't predict Aioros' sword flying right in his direction. Again, the greek god managed to get away from Aioros' attack, but not without a bleeding cut on his left arm.

Suddenly, you remember one of the most important leverages from other eras: Hades has a blind spot, one he doesn't know about.

“You dare to try to hurt me?” Hades scoffs at the sight of his bleeding arm, staring back at you like you have profaned a sacred territory. “I will take your precious big brother’s body with me, I will leave you alone at this age, and I WILL KILL YOU and every single person you have ever loved in this life, human!” He points at you, feeling his hatred consume his figure and turning the whole place around him colored in a true black.

When silver bolts of lightning and thunders start to surround you and Aioros, you position your left arm with the shield as a way to protect the both of you from the bolts of lightning; but before you can even turn around to ask Aioros for a plan, you feel your knight's hand on your right arm, forcing you to run behind him towards another empty storehouse just like the one you two were hiding earlier.

“What are you doing?!” You question, trying to break off from his grip as he drags you into another abandoned place. “Saving your life. We need to come up with a plan that doesn't involve facing Hades and his army at the same time. We are still weaker than usual and facing a furious Hades without a strategy will get us both killed or too hurt to fight back.” Aioros answers, without looking back at you as he pulls you away from any visible spots.

“I have it under control!” You contest, pulling your hand off of his grasp as you stare at Aioros with a twisted expression on your face.

“Y/N, I know you have emerged with Athena's goddess essence without losing your own essence. And no, I don't have the answer to why this is happening, but you need to get yourself together and understand that you are still the goddess of strategy. We are not gonna win this war with irrational attacks.” Aioros grabs both of your shoulders, shaking you slightly as if that can somehow make you pay attention to him.

“Aioros, I demand you to stop this nonsense!” You force his hands off of your body aggressively. “Hades is outside with his whole army with him, we do not have the time to come up with anything. We need to trust our instincts. This isn’t the time to argue whether a strategy will win the war or not.”

“I’m trying to save your-” “She's right, Aioros.” You again hear Hades' voice loud and clear in your ears. The difference? Now, he truly is inside the empty place, right behind you. “Oh Aioros, tell me you didn't think I couldn't see through my own darkness.” He addresses with nothing but pure irony on his voice, laughing while you slowly turn around to face him.

“I could have killed you right now, Athena, and it would have been so easy. Guess this age has taken your usual keen senses away as much as it has taken your rationality.” Hades opens his arms, and his whole body cracks as a pure form of darkness get out of his body, flying straight to Mark's direction.

You were about to jump in front of Aioros to protect him with your shield, when you hear Renjun's soft and confused voice, calling for your name. There is no way Hades could replicate that. And the fact you looked away from the dark form flying towards Aioros to face your Renjun on his knees for a second, is the leverage Hades needs to enter in Mark's eyes.

All you hear next is the sound of Aioros' body falling on the floor.

“AIOROS!” You outcry, throwing yourself to the floor as you try to hold the now aggressively shaking body of your brother. He’s cold. “Aioros, talk to me, what's going on?” You try to get him to look at you, but Mark's eyes are distant, almost like he's facing his own battle inside of him, which is confirmed when groans and screams of suffering start to leave his mouth. “Aioros! What is happening? What is he doing?” You shake his body, trying to get his attention as you stare helplessly at your brother's body reacting at the evil soul of Hades.

“H-he's trying to kill Aioros, so he can take control of Mark's body.” You hear Renjun's voice by your side, making you stare at him in pure desperation. Not really believing that voice belongs to your husband, not until your eyes finally met again.

For a second, you just sit there still. Your vision is blurred from the remaining darkness that continued on the air after Hades' fast movements, but deep down in your heart, you know that the person next to you is not an illusion. You were so caught up in trying to contact Hades, that you didn’t notice Renjun crawling over the floor till you. The young man next to you still has the black hair falling onto his forehead, but his eyes? Those are the eyes of the man you’re married to. Nothing could replicate those eyes, not even Hades.

A small part of you is relieved to see the love of your life alive, but the other one can't process the fact that you are on the verge of losing your brother.

“How are you alive?” You question him, more to yourself than to him, to be honest. “It doesn't matter right now. But what it does matter is that whatever made my soul continue alive when Hades inside of me, is not going to work in Mark's body if Hades manages to take control. He's going to kill them both.”

“What? No! No, there has to be another way!” You argue, shaking your head aggressively as you refuse to believe in what’s happening. This has to be a lie. A hallucination. 

“You’re half Athena now, so if you don't know a solution…” Renjun holds onto his bleeding arm, trying hard to remember about everything Hades had thought when he was inside him, but finding no useful information. “Then I don't think there's one.”

“NO. I refuse to let this happen, Renjun. He is my big brother, my partner in crime, my ride or die best friend. I can't lose my brother to an evil psycho!” You exclaim in fear, staring at Renjun's eyes as if you’re looking for any type of answer they can provide you.

“You won't.” You hear Aioros' voice, followed by the cold sound of the knife he usually keeps close to his waist going through his chest.

And just like that, all the sounds of suffering cease.

You've always heard about those stories where people go through almost a death experience, and how their whole lives go through their heads in a blink of an eye, with tons of memories like flashes. Now you know they aren't true. You're not the one who's about to bleed till death, but you still see all those memories going through your head like a bullet.

The pain and sadness drain through you, taking away all the strength and power that you so firmly and believed that could save you and your brother out of this mess. The only thing left is the ocean of tears that you were trying so much to hold back previously. You have no reason to stop them from falling now.

“MARK!” You screech in pain, gently placing your brother's body on your arms with forming tears on your eyes as his eyes finally meet with yours. “Hey, little sister.” Mark gives you the best smile he could in that position, making your heart feel like it is physically breaking.

“What- Why? Why are you doing this? Have you lost your mind?! Huh?!” You let a loud cry leave your lips, watching as your brother's mouth starts to get filled with his blood. The blood with your genetics. The blood that so deeply connected the two of you. One of the greatest bond you could ever have with someone on earth.

“This-” Mark coughs his own blood, staining your trembling hand that is currently caressing his cheek tenderly. “Hades won't have enough power to hurt you in his abstract form of darkness. He'll have to go back to the underworld, and this will give you enough time to run.”

“Mark, I can't-” You choke on your tears, feeling like all the air inside of your lungs has left you alone. Your sobbing is so loud that for a second you’re scared that the words just won’t leave your mouth. “Goddammit, Mark. I can't lose you. Who is gonna secretly give candy to my future children before dinner? Who is going to show them all the pictures of me with that terrible short cut hair? You can't leave me. Why in this world would Aioros give you this terrible idea?” You hold his head next to your chest, almost like you could stop him from leaving you if only you hold him tight enough. 

“He didn't, I came up with the genius plan, he just agreed with me.” He let a weak laugh leave his lips, staring at the person he loves the most in this entire world.

You.

“I'm your ride or die, remember? I have the feeling that Aioros is the same thing for Athena. And because of that, we are more than glad to sacrifice ourselves if that means that both of you will have the chance to stay alive.” Mark coughs on his blood again, getting harder and harder to speak. “Besides, Nike is by your side this time. You're finally going to break this curse and end this war.” Mark elucidates, causing you to shake your head at his statement.

“Nike? The goddess of victory? What are you talking about?” You ask, with all of your tears dropping off of your face and landing on Mark’s face. “Baby, look at your arm.” Renjun touches your right arm, making you look at it for a second, noticing for the first time a drawing of Nike glowing from the inside of your arm.

“Aioros knew something was different about you when you finally fully awakened. It is her… she has come to help us.” Mark finishes his sentence with a hopeful smile on his face, reuniting all of his left strength to cover your hand on his cheek with his own, whispering the last words you would ever hear him say to you: “I love you.”

The only thing that can be heard after that is the loud scream of pure agony that leaves your mouth, filling in the entire empty room.

You have the arms of the man you love around your figure, which was everything you could ask for some minutes ago. But at the same time, your own arms are holding close to your heart the lifeless body of the one person you thought that would never leave your side. The one you love with your whole soul. The one who left you behind with a missing piece of your heart. Your only brother. Your big brother. 

Your Mark. 

[missmarthanightingale]

empire - exploitation & erasure

exploitation & erasure are constant themes throughout both s11 & s12 in the leadup to the reveal in the timeless children.

going episode by episode, we start with the stenza in the woman who fell to earth.  they’ve been coming to earth, for lord only knows how long, hunting humans & bringing them home as trophies to prove their prowess.  this is a way of proving their superiority - in this case, a ritual demonstration of their ‘right to rule’ - & it’s a fox hunt.  the details are different, but it’s a fox hunt.  bc the stenza are an empire, & in doctor who, every empire is the british empire.

then we have the ghost monument, which properly delves into the stenza as a civilization.  angstrom, played by an irish actress, talks about how her people are suffering, how the stenza invaded & occupied their world & are now committing genocide, how the only way to save her family is to win the race so they can afford to emigrate.  this was blatant.  the other obvious theme of exploitation is the scientists of desolation, held captive & forced to give up their secrets in the name of scientific progress - this is, remember, the same episode in which the idea of the timeless child is introduced.

rosa is, at heart, a conversation about the civil rights movement & neo-nazis.  krasko is literally trying to erase rosa parks - &, by extension, the civil right movement - from history.  rosa parks is not the entire civil rights movement, but krasko’s an idiot, so let’s roll with that idea.  neo-nazis today are constantly trying to rewrite history; this episode is a call to refuse to allow it, & a reminder that the work of the civil rights movement is yet unfinished.  in britain, as well, as ryan & yaz’s alley conversation clearly shows.

next we have arachnids in the u.k. which is very blatantly a condemnation of corporate pollution.  it’s not explicitly about exploitation, except that jack robertson is exactly the sort of man who exploits anything & everything he can, & who gets ordinary people killed for his greed, just more dramatically & directly than most corporations that dump industrial waste wherever they damn please.  we also suspect that robertson will cover it all up & get away with everything, as his sort generally do.

the next episode that deals with empire is demons of the punjab, which really doesn’t fuck around.  the partition of india is a particularly shameful & very poorly handled chapter of the history of the british empire, following a century of exploitation & abuse, which resulted in a lot of bloodshed & death, & ongoing tensions even now.  it’s also generally ignored aspect of british history.  also ignored are the indian soldiers - indeed, the soldiers from across the commonwealth - who fought in the world wars.  this episode also deals with the forgotten, unacknowledged dead.

kerblam! is definitely about exploitation.  it indirectly deals with the exploitation of workers - on a meta level, i find it almost funny that they don’t dare call amazon out more directly - with things like the tracking anklets, the invasive monitoring of employees, the rebukes for even interacting with coworkers while on the clock.  & the system is explicitly being exploited by charlie, being used to harm people & intended to be the scapegoat for his actions.

the next episode has a strong theme of exploitation is the battle of ranskoor av kolos.  the ux are very blatantly being exploited - the younger, a black man, is physically trapped & used to create things for the benefit of t’zim-sha, while the elder, a white woman, is psychologically trapped by having her faith used against her.  interestingly, she also is made complicit in keeping the younger enslaved.  the ultimate goal of their labour?  reducing entire planets to objects that can sit on t’zim-sha’s metaphorical mantlepiece.

the exploitation in spyfall is about calling out tech corporations which treat people as products, harvesting data & selling it on.  or, in this case, use it to erase dna - destroy that which makes a person what they are.  that theme of erasure carries through to the doctor removing noor & ada’s memories; memories are a significant part of what makes a person who they are, & removing them is erasing a part of that person.

orphan 55 is a grim projection of the end result of exploiting the earth - explicitly attributing the bulk of the blame to the wealthiest & most privileged - even as kane refuses to stop trying to get something out of an already dead planet.  there’s also the appropriation of land which is already inhabited by the dregs, & yes, i’m still sulking about how the doctor had nothing to say about how kane was by some standards an invader & a colonizer - worse, the descendent of someone who abandoned the land, now trying to reclaim it from those who had no choice to remain behind.

next we have nikola tesla’s night of terror, which is a condemnation of both capitalism & empire!  edison exploits his employees & denies them credit for their work, taking all the acclaim for himself instead; tesla, despite his brilliance, is largely forgotten by history.  it’s interesting that the doctor makes a point of saying that the erasure of his contributions doesn’t make them or him any less valuable in long run - it is what you do, not what is remembered, that truly matters.  the skithra, meanwhile, are another empire, very strongly paralleled with edison, who try to exploit tesla’s brilliance - the tesla, i remind you, who is explicitly compared with the doctor - try to use him to further their own power.

praxeus is a more subtle & insidious sort of exploitation, using earth as a petri dish in order to solve another planet’s problems.  they also use adam lang as a test subject, keeping him in a lab & injecting something foreign into his body; rather the opposite of what happened to the timeless child.  suki’s actions, interestingly, are said to be born of fear & desperation - she says that her species are all but wiped out.  the shobogans, in the timeless child, are said to be very few in number; perhaps a future storyline for tecteun will feature similar motivations.

the next episode is also about exploitation.  the villains of can you hear me play at destroying entire worlds for their own amusement, they literally harvest nightmares, & they use the doctor to free rakaya - by convincing her that rakaya is something other than what she is, that’s she a prisoner & a victim.  the doctor always does take the side of the victims.

& finally we get the cybermen.  this isn’t an origin story for the cybermen, which is the most common type we get on the show; this is the cyber empire, which is set on eradicating the human race, sometimes hunting them down just to kill them, sometimes using their bodies for parts, literally erasing their emotions - their humanity - & turning them into obedient machines.  however unusual ashad may be, these concepts are impossible to divorce from any cyberman story.  which makes them the perfect lead-in to the timeless child reveal - the exploitation of a child’s body, with no care for them as a person, being the foundation of an empire.  which probably also makes the master’s cyberlord scheme a particularly satisfying just desserts, in his mind.

& of course, throughout both seasons, we have the doctor’s past as a constant theme - in the first episode she has no memory of who she is, but is nevertheless completely herself; she subsequently continues to erase her past, in a way, by refusing to discuss or even acknowledge it in s11; she never tells her companions the full story in s12; fugitive of the judoon, of course, has her running into a former version of herself she has no memory or knowledge of; all culminating in the discovery that she has aeons worth of lives that have been erased, not just from herself, but from the matrix as well.

also, i know i can’t shut up about ireland, but i reiterate that every empire in doctor who is some shade of the british empire, so i find it really very interesting that the hidden truth of the doctor’s life, disguised as the brendan metaphor, was set in ireland.  & he was working for the police.  Very Interesting Indeed.

[blarrghe]

10 and 16, your choice 👀

Currently neglecting everything else I have going on for this Dorianders modern au. This is going to go somewhere...interesting.

16. I need a date for this wedding from the cliche prompts

Dorian asks a favour, he even has the foresight to ask using kittens. How can Anders say no?

Continues from the last one, for more of this tale you can read them in order on AO3

--

He had a wrap made with roasted vegetables, house made hummus, and smoked tofu, and it was surprisingly good. A little expensive still, but the menu said that a portion of all the proceeds went towards supporting the animal shelter, so really no part of him could find reason to complain. A skinny young tabby came and sat by them while they ate, and Anders stroked its stripes slowly, almost mesmerized, while Dorian told him the latest dramatic tale from some high-brow party he’d been to the night before. Anders was only half listening; they’d been friends for just over a month, though with all the little chunks of time they found to spend together, it seemed longer, and in that time Anders had learned that Dorian went to an unbelievable number of fancy parties. It seemed like there was a new one each night, fundraisers and awards ceremonies and shows of support for one cause or another. Pompous, stuffy affairs that he looked to Anders to laugh over, later. Anders didn’t mind, exactly, he could make fun of upper class excess any day of the week, and he actually appreciated being privy to some of the more political gossip, but there was a reason why Dorian seemed to always cap the nights off with an outing to some noisier, bouncier club. Most of what he did for work was painfully boring. And the stories that came after, about what happened at said bouncy clubs, were worse still. 

He was going through it, Anders reminded himself, he didn’t really talk about it, but it was there. Grief and guilt and an unmistakable feeling of relief, which only led him to more guilt. There was a good deal of alcohol in the mix, too. He looked good, tall and handsome, workouts the next day to detox from the wild nights, but he was still a mess, underneath it all. Easy to forget, smooth as he talked, but Anders had an uncanny ability to see through veils, thanks to that ghost still shadowing his soul. 

As his friend, Anders was more or less supportive; reminders about the uselessness of detoxes, a sounding board for work-related gripes, encouraging smiles when it looked like Dorian might say something a little closer to the truth. But as a man who had seen him, been struck down by the lightning bolt of his smile every time it graced his lips, he was mostly just jealous. But Dorian was busy treating his grief with sex and mindnumbing dance beats, and Anders would rather be a friend than a drunken encounter at a noisy club, so that was that. And he was very deliberately not waiting. He’d done all that before, the yearning and pining and endless aching for a one-sided love, and it was fucking terrible. Unhealthy. Friendship was good, friendship was healthy. Being used as some kind of distraction would not be, no matter how tempting. 

Anders, meanwhile, had found his own distraction in the form of a coworker who was also decidedly going through something. Someone as different as could be from Dorian, and who had no undue attachment to Anders whatsoever. In fact, she had three or four men in rotation and was very obviously beginning to fall in a complicated way for one of the other ones. So distractions abounded, but at least between himself and Dorian there could just be a solid foundation, untroubled by jealousy and sex. Except for when he smiled. 

“Anders?” Dorian’s voice cut through his thoughts, and the skinny tabby looked up, irritated that Anders had abruptly stopped petting it. “Alright, I get it, Tevinter politics, boring.” Dorian went on, “shall I leave you here with your new friend?” The cat hopped down from its perch on the seat next to Anders, and slunk away, indifferent. 

“I — ah,” Anders shook his head, turning his focus back to Dorian, who always seemed to be smirking at him. “Sorry, I’m just tired.” 

Dorian raised an eyebrow, then glancing away over Anders’ shoulder, he indicated something with a slight nod. “Would a kitten help?” 

Anders turned to look, and whatever else was going on in his heart simply melted away, as two bright white kittens emerged stumbling from one of the carpeted cat tunnels set out under the windows of the cafe, wobbling and hopping over one another with fluffy little tails and bright blue eyes. 

“Sweet maker,” he breathed, and he could hear Dorian laughing under his breath as he watched, “I’m going to go pet those kittens now.” Anders announced, leaving his head-shaking and amused friend behind. 

He played with the kittens until they finished being curious about him and wandered off to sniff at someone else, and then he took a look around the place, appreciating the genius of it. Lots of fun shelves and carpeted tunnels and posts with fluffy balls on strings tied to their ends, cats lounging and wandering about; the skinny tabby, the two white kittens, an old black and brown giant with long hair and a grumpy expression, watching from a shelf on high, and several others, sleeping in happy piles on top of one another in various hiding spots or jumping from platform to platform overhead. There was a bulletin board on the wall with each cat’s picture posted up, along with an informative biography detailing their name, breed and personality. Paperwork for adoption could be requested from the servers, and the place had purportedly housed over a hundred lonely cats in the short time since its opening. There were some pictures of the lucky adoptees up on the board as well, and a flyer requesting volunteer help at the shelter. Anders ripped off one of the phone numbers hanging from it. 

By the time Anders returned to their table, feeling altogether lighter and refreshed, Dorian had paid their bill. Anders watched as Dorian stood, pulling the strap of his gym bag back up over his shoulder and checking his watch with an apologetic grimace. 

“You didn’t have to pay,”Anders frowned, reaching in his pocket for the bills to cover his share. Dorian shrugged. 

“I may have ulterior motives, actually.” He replied, and Anders’ frown deepened. “I need to ask you a favour.” 

He crossed his arms, feeling rather buttered up, what with the kittens and the lunch and the way Dorian was still slyly smiling at him. 

“There’s an event next week, and I need someone to accompany me…” 

“I’m no good at formal events,” Anders warned, “I’ll get you voted out of the Magisterium just by holding my fork wrong or something.” 

“It’s not that kind of event, it’s a — it’s a family affair. A wedding.” Dorian admitted the context stiffly, a tenseness in his jaw already. It had been weeks since the funeral, which he’d never talked about at all, but the way he said wedding sounded about as much like one. 

Anders’ heart stilled. “Can’t you find a date?” He quipped, or tried to quip, throat going dry again. 

Dorian sighed. “I could take the one my mother’s found, or I could take a friend.” he replied, eyes pleading. Fuck that word and his desperate eyes. “Besides, the whole thing would be much more tolerable with someone to make snide remarks with on the sidelines. Free food, free wine, saving me from an evening of drudgery celebrating the union of some distant fourth-cousin and her fifth husband. Please?” 

“I don’t much want to antagonize your mother.” Anders said, still frowning. He remembered her in the hospital, shouting bloody murder at his supervisors and snapping at the nurses. And it didn’t escape him either that for Dorian to bring another man to a family affair would set tongues wagging; that he probably wanted it to. Anders had a habit of flaunting Tevinter sensibilities where it came to things like gender presentation and respectable life choices. Some of it was accidental — there were so many rules to Tevinter codes of behaviour, it was too easy to break them — but some of it was deliberate. He missed Kirkwall, where none of it had really mattered, and some part of him didn’t want to let Tevinter rigidity take away his freedom. Halward Pavus, rest his temperamental soul, had seemed to pinpoint him for his otherness even while laying on his deathbed, and had let him know it with regular scorn. Scorn he’d no doubt directed at Dorian his whole life, given all the maladaptive coping mechanisms he was displaying in the wake of his death. And Anders was still trying not to become a maladaptive coping mechanism. Spirits on earth, he needed to call Merrill. 

“Not even a little?” Dorian prodded, breaking through his brooding once again, “it can be great fun you know; it’s practically a hobby of mine.” 

Anders sighed. “I wouldn’t know what to wear.” he said, a lame excuse that Dorian would happily rectify in a second, given how much he delighted in his own stylings. He could see it already, a smirk coming back to his lips out of that tense jaw, ready to make some suggestions as soon as Anders gave him permission. 

“We can work on that. Come on, if you say no I’ll be forced to get exceedingly drunk, reject a probably perfectly tolerable woman, and generally make a scene.” 

“As though inviting me isn’t going to do that,” Anders protested. No, Dorian didn’t talk about his family much, but Anders didn’t need him to in order to figure him out. 

“You’re a friend, and a doctor. It’s plenty respectable.” Dorian leaned back, “and an excuse to leave early, if you get called away for some sort of...medical emergency.” he winked. 

Anders sighed again. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head and wondering who exactly was deciding his responses at this point; clearly not the part of him that was sensible. “But I’m not buying new robes.” 

“Of course not, you have terrible taste.” Dorian grinned, “I’ll find you something.” 

Anders took the bus home, and fell asleep on his couch, an unsent text message still in the draft stages on his phone. Not to Merrill, she would be useless in this particular dilemma, but to a different old friend. Not that he trusted Isabella to know what to do, either, but at least her advice would be fun. 

[sondepoch]

Day 2

10 Days (Jumin Han x Reader)

You didn't expect to find yourself locked in an engagement to Chairman Han, but with your own mother forcing you into it, you have no way of denying her. But as time continues and things change, you begin to develop affections for your fiance's son: Jumin Han. But the sad truth is that there's nothing either of you can do to stop the marriage, and you only have these 10 days before your future becomes reality. 10 days with Jumin Han.

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | ✔

MASTERLIST

By the time dinner is concluded and you're finally at Jumin's penthouse, it's well past midnight. 

Still a child used to her normal daily routine, it takes all your effort to keep your eyes open, with your body relaxed from the wine and your mind tired from trying not to further aggravate Jumin.

"I'll show you the guest room in a moment," Jumin says stiffly. "Just wait on the couch for a moment while I make sure that it's been properly set up."

With that, he leaves.

You waste no time in flopping onto his couch, not caring about your dress wrinkling. I'll just lie down for a moment until Jumin comes back, you tell yourself, kicking your heels onto the floor and resting your head on the armrest.

For the next thirty seconds, you really do attempt everything in your power to stay awake. You try to think about the engagement, your mother, even Jumin himself, but for some reason, you can't bring yourself to care about anything when the pull of Hypnos grows stronger.

Vaguely, you recognize the sound of someone saying your name. Is that Chairman Han? You wonder, before realizing that this man's voice has a slightly different cadence to it: softer, deeper, and gentler.

But even that thought takes too much energy and you fall asleep to the feeling of a soft blanket being wrapped around you, utterly unaware of the sighing man watching you.

Sleep is surprisingly blissful on that couch.

When you wake up, half of you is still in the dreamworld, and the morning drowsiness hits you harder than usual.

It takes you a minute to remember where you are, why you fell asleep on a couch, and whose apartment you're in. Right, you think with a grimace. I'm with Jumin.

It barely takes a single glance around the apartment for you to now realize what your mind had been too exhausted to register yesterday: this entire penthouse is suspiciously familiar. You pull yourself off the couch, wondering why, and it's only when you see the full-glass wall to the left of you that you remember.

After all, how could you ever forget such a view?

You stand up from the couch, wrapping your blanket further around your body as you walk over to the windowed wall. From such a high distance, the people walking around in Seoul are nothing more than colored spots, the cars they're driving just ants carrying them here and there. 

You saw this very same view nearly a decade ago, when you'd visited the home of a classmate for a group project. Jumin must have purchased this within the past few years.

A soft smile blooms on your lips at the memory of your past.

Back then you'd been so innocent and carefree, never realizing that one day your mother would marry you off to a man older than even your adoptive father.

But this is the life I've been given, so there's no point in brooding about it, eh? You tell yourself, resolving to be strong.

You force yourself away from the window. There's no point in reminiscing over the past. The fact that you're even in Jumin Han's penthouse is a testimony to your need to prepare yourself for the future.

You make your way to the guest bathroom, sliding the door open. Relief floods you when you find that Jumin has left you everything you could possibly need: a fresh change of clothes, toiletries, and what looks like a professional-grade makeup kit.

You look at the various foundations suspiciously before deciding not to use any of them, uncomfortable with using a brand of makeup your skin isn't used to. Besides, you think while gazing at your skin in the mirror. It's not like I need to impress Jumin.

You shower and change into the clothes you'd been left, pleasantly finding that they were just loose enough to make you look comfortable but still cute. Alright, you think, smiling at your reflection. Let's get some breakfast.

But by the time you've maneuvered your way to the kitchen, you're shocked to find that Jumin is already there.

"What's this?" You muse out loud, grabbing his attention. "Jumin Han making breakfast? Never did I think I'd see the day."

The man in front of you averts his eyes, going back to frying the omelet in his pan. "The chef called in sick. His usual replacement is apparently on vacation."

You let out a light chuckle before taking the cooking spatula from Jumin's hand. "You have to use oil if you want the egg to cook properly."

He doesn't respond while you turn the electric stove off, and you can't suppress your laughter at the executive director's inability to do something simple as cooking eggs. "You really haven't changed, have you?"

"I haven't, but you certainly have." Jumin looks away, not meeting your eyes, killing your mirth in an instant.

"Jumin...I'm marrying your father because I love him. There's no ulterior motive, nothing else to it." You try to get Jumin to look you in the eyes, but his gaze is locked on the ruined eggs.

"My father might love you, but you don't love him," Jumin mutters, glaring. "I haven't figured out what your angle is, but I won't be fooled. Go, your phone is ringing."

You turn around and, sure enough, your phone's screen is lit up with the bright contact picture of Chairman Han. You pick up the phone and turn your body away from Jumin so that he can't see the grimace on your face as you speak to your fiancé.

"Hi dear," You say with fake excitement. "How are you?"

"Horrible, (Y/N)," Chairman Han says from the other line. "The Director of International Communications was right...this whole situation is too high-level for me to discuss over the phone. But C&R will be in huge trouble if I don't stay here and sort this out. I'm sorry, my love, but you'll need to stay with Jumin for a few more nights."

"I see," You say, tone flat. You don't know whether you should be excited at the prospect of a few more days without Chairman Han's presence or terrified of how Jumin will behave with you.

As if he were hearing your internal thoughts, though, Chairman Han asks, "Is my son treating you well?"

You swallow nervously, well-aware that you can only say one thing. "Of course. Jumin's been very good to me."

Chairman Han sighs. "Good. I'm sorry, sweetling, but I have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Until then, goodbye."

The man pauses, before adding: "I love you, (Y/N)."

You swallow. There's only one thing for you to say. "I love you, too."

From behind you, Jumin scoffs.

When you've hung up, you turn to him once more. "Looks like I'll be staying with you a couple more nights."

But if Jumin heard you, he makes no indication of such. "I'm going to work."

"It's Sunday."

"I'd rather be at an empty C&R building than with a liar like you. Deceive my father you might, but I won't fall for your tricks."

"Jumin..." You trail off, trying not to be insulted by his words.

But before you can say anything more, he's grabbed an umbrella and is out the door, leaving only you in his lonely, lonely apartment.

Or at least, that's what you thought half an hour ago, before you met his adorable cat.

She now lies curled in your lap, licking her paw daintily while you try not to squeal from how precious she is. Your fiancé had ranted half a hundred times to you about how his son obsessed over his cat: Elizabeth the Third. (Or is it the Fourth? You can't remember.) When you first heard about it, you'd scoffed and dismissed the notion of any animal being so mesmerizing, but now that Elizabeth is actually in your lap, it's hard not to fall in love with her.

Stroking her head delicately, you can't help but sigh. "Why won't Jumin accept me as easily as you, Elizabeth?"

A part of you almost waits for the cat to respond, before you realize what you're doing. Sighing, you turn to your phone and check your texts. No messages from Mother, nothing from Chairman Han, and...who else would text you? Jumin doesn't even have your number.

You groan, hating how he stormed out. But curse as you might, you know that there's nothing you can do about his prejudice against you.

Objectively speaking, he's in the wrong. You gain nothing from this marriage with Chairman Han. BC-Sonic is on a steady rise, and will soon be as large as C&R; your family is wealthy enough that a divorce settlement would be useless; and Chairman Han can't give you anything you don't already have.

But then, when one considers the more delicate nuances behind the marriage, it feels like Jumin has the truth of it.

You don't love Chairman Han, though you've managed to get the older man to fall in love with you.

But maybe that's okay.

Because Chairman Han will be happy with you by his side. You're a good actor, you'll live the rest of your life pretending to reciprocate his affections...and you'll give him true happiness. You've spent your whole life trying to be the perfect daughter, and now all your efforts will turn to being the perfect wife.

So Jumin has no reason for complaint.

If anything, his father benefits most from this marriage, by wedding a youthful and beautiful woman who's long captured the heart of the media.

I should be the one protesting this, You tell yourself, before remembering why you hadn't. It's not like I have a choice, you remember, thinking of your mother. In a roundabout way, this marriage would also bring you happiness. It'll free me of Mother.

You massage your thigh, images of growing up flashing through your mind, before you shake your head.

It's not good to dwell on the past. As soon as your marriage with Chairman Han is complete, you'll leave those memories in the past.

Forever.

You stare at your phone once more, hesitating before typing in C&R's name into the search engine. Part of you hoped that there would be some word of the 'huge trouble' Chairman Han had said his company was in, but somehow the media has yet to catch wind of the situation.

That's a good thing, though. If C&R's stock drops, then Chairman Han will want to advance the wedding date to connect our companies as quickly as possible.

You tap the search bar again, and this time enter: Jumin Han. Your idea was strange, and a little unrealistic, but it might give you some information as to where Jumin went. Surely he didn't actually go to C&R.

The page loads and sure enough, a low-credited media outlet has already released an article about Jumin Han: Shopping Adventure?!?! as of thirty minutes ago. At the top of the page, there's a picture of him holding a bag from some store you vaguely recognize, and he's in the same suit and umbrella as when he left the house. Never doubt the media, you tell yourself, mildly amused at how they managed to make a full article about something as mundane as a rich man shopping.

On the bright side, though, you at least know that Jumin is safe and accounted for. You make a mental reminder to ask for his phone number when he returns. Next time, you doubt there'll be an article online detailing his whereabouts.

But as minutes stretch into hours, and morning turns into evening, you realize, with fear, that Jumin might not be coming back. After cleaning the dish you had used to give Elizabeth dinner, you glance at the door hesitantly, as if staring longer will make Jumin walk through the door.

Sadly, it doesn't work.

You glance at your phone once more, now worried. You could call Chairman Han and ask him for his son's phone number...but no, you don't want any reason to talk with him now. You've already been sentenced to spend the rest of your life with the man, you'll enjoy this brief freedom from him as much as you can.

So who should you call...?

You have few acquaintances in this strange city of Seoul, never having been here for any purpose except business. There was always that one man...but you don't even know where he lives, much less if he's still at his old number.

Still, it's worth a shot.

You dial in the number you'd saved to your contacts so many years ago, wondering this was a lost cause. To your surprise, the man on the other line picks up instantly. "(F/N) (L/N)?" The man asks. "I've been waiting for you to call for the past four years! Are you here to chat, or are you finally going to cash in on one of those favors?"

"We can chat another time, Seven." You say, only knowing him by the hacker name he'd used when he first breached BC-Sonic's security system. "But right now, I have someone I need you to track down."

"Hm, I can do that. But I'll need you to narrow my search range down to at least the continent if you want an answer within the next twelve hours."

"How about if I tell you what city the person I'm looking for is in?"

On the other line, Seven laughs. "Sounds like you already know where they are, then. But yes, if you give me the city I can probably send you their exact address within the next ten minutes or so."

"That works."

"Good. Now, what's the name of the unfortunate soul that (F/N) (L/N) is hunting down?"

You sigh, frustrated that you're wasting a favor from one of the best hackers in the world to track down Jumin, but it can't be avoided.

"Jumin Han."

On the other line, the constant sound of typing from Seven's keyboard stops, and you can feel him shift all his attention to you. "(Y/N)..." He trails off, before continuing. "I'm sorry. He is one of the few people I cannot disclose private information on."

"Cannot or will not?" You ask, scowling. "Seven, you owe my company big-time for what you pulled when you breached our users' privacy. We've already suffered the backlash from the leak, but I did you a favor by not revealing your name to the public and you still attacked us two more times! You and I both know that all it takes is a public statement from me for your entire world to come crashing down, so save us both the trouble and find me Jumin Han!"

You bite your lip, hating that you had to resort to threatening the hacker, but it's nearing midnight and you need to know that Jumin is safe. It doesn't matter where he is, be it in a bar or a friend's home or even a strip club—you just need to know that he's safe.

On the other line, Seven sighs. "(Y/N), you and I both know that you're too good of a person to leak my information like that. We both know what would happen, and I doubt you want my blood on your hands. Besides, it would only bring back bad memories for BC-Sonic and the media would be reminded of the breach. Your company's stock would drop."

"And I'd bring it back up again," You respond, but you both know that your threat was meanignless as it was pathetic. "Alright, fine. Maybe I won't tell the media anything, but at least check that Jumin Han is safe, wherever he is. If you won't reveal his location to me, you must have some kind of allegiance to him, and he might be in danger right now."

"Why? Did he receive any threats?" Seven asks, voice serious.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you realize that your concern for Jumin is baseless, only supported by the fact that it's late and he has yet to come home...but the worry in your stomach is too strong for you to ignore. "I just..He left without saying anything. I thought I saw an article that said he was going shopping, but if that were the case he should have returned hours ago. I'm just worried because...because..."

Seven finishes your sentence for you.

"...Because he's going to be family?"

You swallow.

The one condition your parents had desired for your marriage with Chairman Han was that the media would receive no word of the engagement until the entire process was complete. It was to be completely secret until everything was finalized. But if Seven knows...

"D-Did the media find out?" You ask, terrified for the truth. You fear for yourself, remembering your mother's dark warning against any failure.

"Not quite..." Seven trails off. "Jumin sort of...told me."

You swallow.

What?!

And that is the precise moment that Jumin walks in through the door, leading the way for eight hired helpers who each carry two armfuls of shopping bags.

"I'll call you back," You tell Seven, before angrily turning to Jumin. "Where were you?!"

"Out," Is all he says, loosening his tie and pulling a wine glass from the cabinet while the rest of the helpers leave the room, leaving only you and the man of the hour himself.

"A call to the penthouse would have been appreciated," You mumble. "I was worried sick. And so was Elizabeth."

As soon as you mention the cat's name, she comes running into the room, purring as she nuzzles against your leg. Jumin looks down at her in surprise, before picking her up and placing her onto the table where he strokes her fur.

"I shouldn't need to inform you where I am. Remember, in this house, you're an intruder. You are welcome here because my father directly requested this of me, but you will never be welcome in this family."

Jumin looks like he was planning on saying more, but his phone begins buzzing from his pocket and he excuses himself to take the call. While he answers, you pour yourself a cup of wine and look at Elizabeth. She's already accepted you into the family, why does Jumin have to be so difficult?

"You called Luciel?" Jumin fumes at you when he returns. "You were going to have a hacker trace my whereabouts?"

You blink, not recognizing the name Luciel until you piece together that it must be Seven's real name. A strange name, you think, And probably another fake one, but it's information nonetheless.

"You had me worried, Jumin" You respond, voice low. You take another sip of wine, suddenly wishing that it were something stronger to give you the liquid courage you need to berate Jumin for his rudeness. "I was scared." That second part comes out in a whisper.

In front of you, the male seems taken aback by your sudden dejectedness. "I see," He says, though you can tell he wants to add more.

"We should exchange numbers, no?" You suggest, offering your phone to him so that he can enter his contact information. He doesn't repeat the gesture for you, but you don't think it matters, so long as you have his number.

A long silence follows, briefly interrupted only by Elizabeth's occasional purrs as Jumin rubs her head on the spot between her ears while you stroke her body. It's strange, but it's as if she's connecting the two of you, and healing all the seemingly unforgivable insults Jumin has labeled you with over the past two days.

"I'm tired," You tell him.

It's true, but you're not sure that he understands the full meaning behind the words.

There had been a day when you were excited about marrying Chairman Han, eager that the final piece in the puzzle of your life was going to be set in place. But then, you'd learned of his womanizing habits, his callous behavior, and his utterly banal taste.

You're tired.

You're tired of this engagement, but given that you have no choice in the matter and the fact that this engagement is your future, the truth is that you're tired of life. Tired of the life you've yet to even begin leading.

Still, it seems that Jumin picked up on some semblance of your meaning, and he sets down his wine glass. "I'd like to apologize, (Y/N)." He pauses, as if he were considering leaving it just at that, but finally continues. "I may have treated you...less fairly than you deserve."

An amused smile flits across your face. It wasn't an outright apology, still heavy with the implication that Jumin doesn't trust you, but it's progress.

"And how fairly do you think I deserve to be treated?" You ask, unable to hold the question back.

"I..." Jumin trails off. "I spoke with my father on the phone today. He...told me that your happiness was his happiness. I'm not foolish enough to believe that you love him, (Y/N), but if I mistreat you it will bring him pain. That's the only thing I wish to avoid."

You offer Jumin a light smile. "Jumin, if there's one thing I can promise you, it's that he will be happy with me. No matter what, he will feel loved."

"He will feel loved by you, but will he be loved by you?"

Your smile turns sour, and you think about the sad truth of life. "Is there truly a difference? He's happy regardless."

Jumin pauses, considering your words. Another moment of silence follows, and you almost stand up to go to bed, but the man finally speaks. "The difference is your happiness, (Y/N). Even if you're skilled enough to deceive my father into a false sense of happiness, what kind of life would you be leading?"

You swallow, trying your hardest to pretend as if you hadn't asked yourself the very same question this morning. Without any way to answer, you decide to use business tactics to respond. If you can't respond in a way that benefits the company, don't answer the question at all, your mother had once told you.

The same logic applies.

"We are in agreement that your father will be happy in this marriage. That is all that matters." To convey that this discussion is over, you stand up and announce that you'll be going to bed. It's not quite as late as it was when you'd arrived in Jumin's penthouse yesterday, but it's still well-past when you'd have liked to be asleep.

You don't look back when you leave the room, not even when you hear Elizabeth meow and attempt to follow you, for fear that Jumin will see your face and your tears.

For fear that Jumin will realize that thinking about the life you'll be leading brings you more pain than you've ever felt before.

For fear that Jumin will realize that you don't want this marriage any more than he does.

MASTERLIST

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 |  ✔

Word count: 3.9k

Notes: Aghhh I'm so sleepy but I still have to work out >.> i kind of want to take a nap just to recharge but I know that if I do that I won't be able to get up UGH T^T plus i had ice cream today so if I skip ill feel guilty aghhhhhh woe is me

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Next Update: 4/11/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.