#your honor this man is not guilty by reasoning of; im in love with him

[marinerainbow]

Ooooh girl! I see you posted the Driller Killer gifs! I knew I couldn't be the only one liking him

YES!!!!! yes yes yes yes yes!!!! I love him so mmuch. I'm a sucker for rockabilly/greaser looks and crazy characters. And Russ definitely checks out both boxes!

Now I wish you weren't on anon so I knew who you were. I need to know who my fellow Driller Killer lover is!

[moonselune]

This may be too dark and if it is, discard it and move on. I apologize for the inconvenience. If it’s not however, Im curious as to your thoughts! How would the companions feel (Specifically the ladies if everyone is too much)?

Oath Of Vengeance Paladin Tav is a zealot about their Oath. Wipe their blight from this Earth.

Permanently.

After the dust settles on the parties most recent fight (A group of roving bandits) a man who was hiding away from the fight attempts to run for it, caught swiftly by Tav, its undeniable that he is part of the bandit group they had just slain but its also evident that he is unarmed. Tav acts as Judge Jury and Executioner, relieving the mans shoulders of his head before anyone can intervene and without hearing anyones opinions on the matter.

ahaha I love this idea, hope you like it !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You stood over the unarmed bandit, the weight of your oath pressing down on you like a millstone. The man had surrendered, begging for mercy, but the terms of your Oath of Vengeance were clear. Justice must be served, and it always ended in death for the guilty. Your sword gleamed in the dim light, ready to deliver the final blow.

As you raised your blade, you heard Karlach’s footsteps behind you. She had been watching the entire scene unfold, her fiery gaze intense and troubled.

“Hey, wait,” she called out, her voice carrying a tone of concern. You paused, looking over your shoulder at her. Readying yourself for the repeated argument. “Karlach, you know what my oath demands, this man has to pay for his crimes.”

Karlach walked closer, her expression a mix of disapproval and understanding. “I know what your oath says,” she replied, her voice softer now that she was closer. “But this man is unarmed. He’s not a threat anymore. Killing him now… it feels wrong.”

You turned to fully face her, your sword still held aloft. “Justice must be served, Karlach. He’s committed atrocities. Letting him live would be a mockery of all those he’s hurt.”

She sighed, placing a hand gently on your arm, urging you to lower your weapon.

“There are other ways to serve justice,” she said, her eyes pleading with you. “You can be better than this. We can find another way to make him pay without killing him.”

You felt a pang of conflict. Karlach’s words were reasonable, and you respected her deeply. Yet, your oath was clear and unwavering.

“This is who I am, Karlach,” you said, your voice tinged with regret. “I’ve taken this path for a reason. To protect others, to make sure those who do evil can never harm anyone again.”

Karlach’s hand tightened on your arm, her expression resolute. “I accept you, flaws and all,” she said softly. “But I hope one day, you’ll find a way to honor your oath without losing your humanity.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You lowered your sword, the tension in your muscles easing slightly.

“Maybe,” you conceded, “but for now, this is the only way I know.”

She nodded, her eyes sad but accepting. “Just promise me you’ll think about it,” she said.

You nodded in return, the weight of your oath and Karlach’s words heavy on your mind. With a final glance at the bandit, you delivered the blow, ending his life swiftly.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The unarmed bandit knelt before you, trembling with fear. His crimes were undeniable, and your Oath of Vengeance demanded justice. Your sword was poised, ready to strike the final blow. Minthara approached, her eyes glinting with approval as she took in the scene.

“You’re about to pass judgment, I see,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “This wretch deserves no mercy.”

You glanced at her, appreciating her understanding. “He’s committed atrocities, Minthara. My oath requires his death.”

Minthara nodded, stepping closer to you. “As it should. Justice must be swift and final.” She looked at the bandit, her expression cold and unyielding. “It’s almost a shame I didn’t get here first.”

You smirked at her words, feeling a sense of camaraderie. “I suppose we share the same sense of justice.”

She placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch both reassuring and firm. “We do. Those who commit evil must face the consequences. It’s our duty to ensure they never harm anyone again.”

You felt a surge of gratitude for her understanding. Minthara’s support strengthened your resolve.

“Then let’s see this through,” you said, lifting your sword once more.

Minthara’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as you brought your blade down, ending the bandit’s life with a single, decisive strike. She watched with approval, her respect for you evident in her gaze.

As you cleaned your sword, Minthara remained by your side. “Well done, my love” she said, her voice filled with pride.

You smiled, feeling a sense of completion. “It’s what we're sworn to do. Justice must be served.”

Minthara’s lips curved into a smile. “Indeed. And it’s a privilege to witness you in action.” She leaned in, her voice a whisper against your ear. “Next time, let’s hunt together. There are always more who need to face judgment.”

Her words sent a thrill through you. “I’d like that, I'd like that a lot."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The unarmed bandit knelt before you, eyes wide with fear. Your Oath of Vengeance demanded justice for his crimes, and your sword was ready to deliver it. Just as you were about to strike, Lae'zel stepped forward, her face a mask of irritation.

“What are you doing?” Lae'zel's voice cut through the tension like a blade. “This wretch is unarmed and beneath us. You’re wasting your time.”

You looked at her, your resolve unwavering. “Lae'zel, my oath is clear. This man must pay for his crimes.”

She crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. “He is a weakling, undeserving of our attention. Your time is better spent preparing for battles that matter. This is a distraction.”

Your grip tightened on your sword. “Justice must be served, no matter how small the crime or how weak the criminal.”

Lae'zel’s eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer. “Justice? This is not justice. This is a waste of your skills and strength. The real threats are out there, not kneeling before you.”

You hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in.

“My oath requires this,” you insisted, though the conviction in your voice wavered slightly.

Lae'zel stepped closer, her presence commanding. “Your oath is to protect and avenge, not to waste time on pitiful creatures like this. Think of the greater battles ahead. Think of the real enemies we must face.”

You glanced at the bandit, who was now trembling in fear. The fire of vengeance still burned within you, but Lae'zel’s words made you question your actions. “You truly believe this is a waste of time?”

“I do,” she said firmly. “Save your strength for those who truly deserve it.”

With a reluctant sigh, you lowered your sword. The bandit’s life was spared, for now. Lae'zel’s practical approach had swayed you, though the need for justice still lingered in your heart. She placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “Come. There are greater battles to fight, and I need you at your best.”

You nodded, turning away from the bandit. Lae'zel’s pragmatism had won this time, but you knew the call for justice would rise again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The unarmed bandit knelt before you, his eyes filled with terror. Your Oath demanded retribution, and your sword was ready to deliver it. As you prepared to strike, Shadowheart stepped forward, her face a mix of concern and disapproval.

“Wait,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t necessary.”

You glanced at her, your resolve momentarily shaken. “Shadowheart, my oath is clear. This man must pay for his crimes.”

She shook her head, her eyes pleading. “We have bigger problems to deal with. This bloodshed is unnecessary. Let him go.”

Your grip tightened on your sword. “Justice must be served, no matter how small the crime.”

Shadowheart stepped closer, her gaze intense. “Killing him won’t solve anything. It will only add to the violence and chaos we’re already facing. We need to focus on the greater threats.”

“But my oath requires this,” you insisted, resisting the urge to stomp your foot, although the conviction in your voice wavered.

She placed a hand on your arm, her touch warm and reassuring. “Your oath is to protect and avenge, not to kill indiscriminately. Show mercy, just this once.”

You looked into her eyes, seeing the depth of her concern. The fire of vengeance still burned within you, but Shadowheart’s plea for mercy resonated. “You believe this is unnecessary?”

“I do,” she said softly. “We have more important battles to fight. Let him go, and focus on the real threats.”

With a reluctant sigh, you lowered your sword. The bandit’s life was spared, for now. Shadowheart’s compassion had swayed you, though the need for justice still lingered in your heart.

She stepped closer, her hand still on your arm. “Thank you,” she said, her voice filled with relief. “We’ll face the real enemies together.”

You nodded, turning away from the bandit, dragging your feet. "Can I at least get a kiss?"

"When we get back to camp."

"Great, no killing, no kisses-mph!" You were interrupted by Shadowheart pulling you in for a quick but nonetheless dazzling kiss.

"Will that stop your whining?"

"Maybe.."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The unarmed bandit knelt before you, his eyes wide with fear. Your Oath of Vengeance demanded retribution for his crimes, and your sword was poised to deliver it. Just as you were about to strike, Jaheira's voice cut through the tense silence.

"For the love of Silvanus, Y/N, what are you doing?" Jaheira's tone was exasperated, yet tinged with a deep weariness.

You glanced at her, your resolve momentarily shaken. "Jaheira, my oath is clear. This man must pay for his crimes."

She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. "This man is unarmed and already defeated. What purpose does killing him serve?"

Your grip tightened on your sword. "Justice must be served, no matter the state of the criminal."

Jaheira sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm too old for this kind of nonsense. There's no justice in killing a defenseless man. It's just more bloodshed."

You hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. "My oath requires this," you insisted, though the conviction in your voice wavered slightly.

She crossed her arms, her gaze unyielding. "Your oath is to protect and avenge, not to become a mindless executioner. This man isn't a threat anymore. Let him go. We have bigger battles to fight."

You glanced at the bandit, who was now trembling in fear. The fire of vengeance still burned within you, but Jaheira's pragmatic wisdom made you question your actions. "You believe this is a waste of time?"

"Absolutely," she said firmly. "We've faced far worse than this wretch. Save your strength for the real threats."

With a reluctant sigh, you lowered your sword. The bandit’s life was spared, for now. Jaheira’s practical approach had swayed you, though the need for justice still lingered in your heart.

Jaheira placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Come on, we're going," she said, her tone softening. "There are greater evils out there, and we need you at your best."

You nodded, turning away from the bandit. Jaheira's seasoned wisdom had won this time, but you knew the call for justice would rise again. Together, you would face the true threats, and your oath would guide you through every battle.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I realised only Minthara was like yay murder lmao, hope you enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[skiiyoomin]

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

ღWhat I think the Crows listen to

Kaz Brekker

Have you seen the way this man dresses? He dresses like a merchant and acts like one. He's definitely a very classy guy, hence the reason why I firmly believe he's the type of person that listens to jazz and soul music.

YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE

Listens to Frank Sinatra, Michael Bublé, Dean Martin

I've seen so many people classify him as the type to listen to hard core rock like Green Day, and although I understand why, I genuinely feel like Kaz is the type of person who enjoys the sound of the saxophone, the old school type of songs that your mom listened to when she was in high school.

I will forever stand by my point

Honorable mention: ABBA (He will never admit how much he enjoys their music)

INEJ GHAFA

To me she's a mix of 80s type of music and Taylor Swift. Like there's literally no in between.

I think Taylors more recent songs make her feel empowered in a way after everything she went through in the Menagerie.

Definitely enjoys her older songs though! I feel like she enjoys a lot of acoustic music and often shares it with Wylan.

As for the 80s taste, like you can't just tell me she doesn't listen to ABBA on a daily.

Honorable mention: Queen, just because.

NINA ZENIK

I think this one is pretty obvious

Pop queen all the way!!

Listens to the trendiest artists like Ariana Grande and Nikki Minaj.

Is always onto the next trendy song, never missing out on any.

She just lives for the poppy type of music that had you dancing on the spot no matter what!

She has definitely rubbed it a little bit onto Matthias

Screams the lyrics to Doja Cat songs with Jesper. PERIOD.

Honorable mention: One Direction, because I believe in my heart she has always been a Directioner and she bawled her eyes out when they disbanded.

MATTHIAS HELVAR

Either hard rock music or classical music. There is literally no in between.

Very emo, you can't convince me otherwise

Huge fan of artists like Pink Floyd, AC/DC, Green Day. THOSE type of artists

I'm a firm believer that he went through an emo phase in his life where the only music he listened to was My Chemical Romance and Panic! At the Disco.

Still cries to this day because of MCRs disbandment. Nina definitely teases him for it.

Honorable mention: Lady Gaga, because like I said before, Nina in some way has definitely influenced his taste. Lady Gaga is the bomb tho, I don't blame him.

JESPER FAHEY

Not gonna lie, I had a hard time figuring him out.

I think out of everyone, he has the most varied taste in music. Will listen to literally anything based simply on his mood.

Like Nina, he listens to pop the most. But I think he leans more towards older type of pop songs.

The type of songs you heard in your childhood that bring back core memories.

LOTS of club type of music like Usher, Pitbull, Britney Spears. Definitely a fun person to go clubbing with.

Honorable mention: The Neighbourhood. I am emotionally attached to The Neighbourhood, and I am emotionally attached to Jesper. I just HAD to put this in here.

WYLAN VAN ECK

Ok so the obvious answer would be soft type of music. Lots of acoustic type of songs.

LOVES artists like JVKE and Harry Styles.

BUT

he has another side that a lot of people forget to mention (aka book Wylan)

His guilty pleasures are the sluttiest type of songs. I'm talking The Weeknd, Chase Atlantic.

So many people picture him as a soft boy type of aesthetic and although it's somewhat true, so many people forget the "We could wake them up" Wylan.

Honorable mention: Arctic Monkeys, just like im emotionally attached to The Neighborhood, im just as attached to Arctic Monkeys and I know for a fact Wylan enjoys that type of music.

I said what I said.

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[citialiin]

FIVE SONGS

list five songs associated with your muse and its meaning to them as a character, or to you as the writer. this can be applied in-character or out-of-character. it can go as deep as looking at the song’s real-world origins or meaning along with the themes it carries to the muses’ story, values, or experiences, or as simple as if your muse would listen to this kind of music, or even if you just listen to these pieces for inspiration.

TAGGED BY: @dansiere​​, who did such a good detailed job they even included an “honorable mentions list” ? i am embarrassed to type mine out now TAGGING: @blossomingbeelzebug​​ @zhrets​​ @dirtyfilthysunshine​​ @prcphesise​​ @hyakiru​ @foxcharmed​

01. kaun komsott - ros sereysothea

this song actually lyrically has absolutely nothing to do with ziggy !!!!  kaun komsott /  កូនកំសត់ actually just means “poor/pitiful child” it’s just a khmer dub of a song from a taiwanese movie lol but i feel like this is the kind of music he would listen to that made him fall in love with, like ... humanity, as dumb as that sounds. it’s time period appropriate (late 60s/early to mid 70s), the song is really good and it’s SO emotional.  i could see him sitting in the apartment of his bandmates after being “found” and they teach him how to use the record player and he sits there going through each and every record they have and listening to this and its like the fucking scene in ratatootie where the goddamn rat can visualize tastes as colors but he would be so enamored with the song he would see it in colors or something i dunno.  something has definitely fucking happened to my brain because ever since nat and alex and i rewatched ratatootie we keep referencing it for our characters. anyways i ended up using an instrumental of kaun komsott in the final film i made as the song that plays during the end.  so this song just also means a lot to me because it’s part of how i made this character and the film/story i animated to go along with him, i am sure you are all absolutely sick of hearing me talk about it <3  

02. who can i be now - daveed booweyywywy now you found me, now can I be real?  can I be real? if it’s all a vast creation / putting on a face that’s new someone has to see / a role for him and me someone might as well be you

one of z’s most obvious character motifs is figuring out self identity through adopting different guises.  he markets himself as being so overly confident and almost arrogantly certain of himself -- rock god space idol whatever -- as his own way of learning who he thinks he might be underneath it all.  i think at first it started off a little innocuous, a ‘ fake it till u make it ’ thing at the least and maybe more obviously a ‘ im not a human so i have to pretend to be someone else ’ deal, but over time it became almost all consuming and just obliterated all his previously held sense of self in favor of some weirdly demented version of who he wanted to be.  683 starts off with the same core personality traits as ziggy: maybe he’s a little vain, a little selfish, but he’s very interested in creativity/self-expression and he wants to be thought of as a unique individual and appreciated for his differences.  but the difference is that 683 isnt an arrogant asshole who has no regard for other people in the slightest.  so yeah ... who can u be now ... is it worth it to adopt a different guise or should he go through the effort of figuring out what parts of his personality were corroded by human influence and what parts are genuinely him?  my big endgame thoughts for his story would be that he eventually just decides to retire from the public eye and fucks off entirely.  this would be over the course of a long long long time -- maybe he has a good 20 yr run in the industry -- but there are some things about him he has to deal with (mental health issues, drug addiction, also the fact that you’re a freaky alien creature who doesnt age like a human so you’re physically like 46 and you still look like you’re 25?) so he inevitably decides he doesnt need the horrible pressure of fame and he ought to just live his life for himself.  i think this would be a nice final song for him to sing/perform -- then he goes into the dressing room and cuts his hair and just vanishes. bye.

03. sunny afternoon - the kinks Help me, help me, help me sail away Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay 'Cause I love to live so pleasantly Live this life of luxury Lazing on a sunny afternoon

1. i think this would sound A LITTLE like the kind of music he would write/play albeit i feel like his would be more exciting and have more samplings of like laser noises or pewpewpew or weird spaceship sounds BUT.  its also pretty time period appropriate.  even in “modern” verses ziggy is inexplicably obsessed with the 1970s, he likes bell bottoms and thinks groovy patterns are neat and he owns too many lava lamps.  anywayz. 2. just the general idea of feeling unfulfilled with luxury -- even if ziggy enjoys his fame and wealth and the absolutely insane amount of pussy/dick he gets at some level he is still cognizantly aware of how weirdly empty he feels.  he ditched atomina and came here because he felt unfulfilled and bored and unwanted.  now he feels wanted (clearly, everyone loves him) and he feels entertained (earth is So Good at fun distractions) but his fulfillment still isnt quite there.  he’s getting there -- but in exchange of being able to live this life of fame, he’s had to kind of change everything about himself and live this almost caricature version of himself, and he knows he cant keep it up forever.  the luxury will run out one day and he’ll be a washup and no one cares about celebrities once they stop being hip.  it is literally only a matter of time before ziggy has to find out who he is because no one can be a “rockstar” forever.

04. i hate jimmy page - mindless self indulgence SUCKAS CAN REACH OUT TOUCH ME EAT ME BITE DA FUTURE & FUCK DA PAST  I'm lower than most animals and fear what might be weird and all those voices in my head have every right to be there i ain't a girl just cause i rock the boat i ain't a boy just cause i rock your world

i mean he does hate jimmy page but that’s beside the point. its just a good song about being a crazy rockstar and has the same Craziness that i feel like accompanies his character ... just go listen to it you will understand. there is nothing to explain here.  even the lyric “ill show u how official midgets jack me off” like just accept it. it’s whatever  but yeah i aint a girl i aint a boy ... i guess his gender (or lack thereof) never really comes up in rp but its still an important part of his character.  if any of u guys ever call him a man in prose again ill kick ur ass.  gender is like an accessory to him and he just takes whatever aspects of masculinity/femininity he prefers and discards everything else.  to him he’s just as much a “man” or a “woman” as he is a “human” which is to say he isnt, at all, and he just pretends to be because he feels obligated to.  also ziggy’s brain kind of sounds like this...just Noises.  his brain sounds like a microwave that’s been going off for 26 years.  i think his brain is a single uncooked pinto bean rolled in glitter that’s been left in a box with a cobweb

05. ghostride - crumb daydreaming I stay in the backseat / the slow beat rocks me back to sleep keeps me on automatic  press my face up close against the glass i see the people when they pass they move so automatic you wake up when I go down / the radio reminds me I'm alive we've been hearing it all night

i care more about 683 on atomina than i do about ziggy on earth sometimes (BUT I CARE THEM BOTH. DO U?) so ... 683 feeling aimless and drifting but trying to find purpose through passion, a person, some sort of concrete meaning -- going through the motions of life makes him feel empty he spends almost every day going through the same toil while feeling guilty or like a burden and also feeling like he’s ultimately nothing more than a replaceable cog in a machine. his species had a near extinction = bottleneck which made them so genetically similar they’re almost clones of each other.  no one ever seems to do anything wrong except him, he finds no joy or fulfillment in anything at all.  all he ever wanted (which isnt a selfish desire at all) was to feel purpose, or feel wanted, or appreciated. inevitably he leaves because of his own imagination -- he yearns for something More, and he doesn’t know What, so he figured he ought to at least Try instead of waste his life away. also atomina is supposed to sound like “automatic.”  do NOT make fun of my bad scifi.  i am trying to mimic the way 1970s scifi is endearingly cheesy.  come here.  i just want to touch you with this knife.  gently tho it wont go inside of you. bro you are bleeding. bro we are bleeding and i keep putting the knife in your soft parts.

[generallynerdy]

Flower (Gwaine X Reader)

Summary: Gwaine spots a particularly beautiful woman in the marketplace. So, he does the only logical thing and finds her a flower to match.

Requested by @pearlll09: As promised: Merlin prompts! So i was thinking, you know when Gwaine first comes in and tries to offer Gwen the flower? What if, instead of Gwen, it was the reader? Up to you though on whether the reader accepts right away or not :)

Key: (Y/N) - your name Warnings: female reader bc canon dialogue is limiting me, cursing probably, unashamed flirting but then again its gwaine you should be prepared for that Word Count: 1,540

Note: bOI you know im possessed if i refuse to write for gwaine i love him thanks pearl

    You knew the second you met his eyes that you were screwed. You shouldn’t have dared to even look at the handsome man, because the second you did, he lit up like a torch. At that, you flushed red and moved onward, trying to rush out of the market without dropping your basket of laundry everywhere.

    You weren’t in the market often, but something always seemed to go wrong when you did.

    When you got a few stalls down, a spark of hope lit up that maybe he’d lost interest. You didn’t know the kind of man he was. He could be a pervert for all you knew.

    However, he stepped in front of you, dropping your hopes instantly and burying them in the dirt. “I think this belongs to you,” he said, voice sweet as honey.

    Admittedly, he was handsome. He had a look about him that said outsider and you’d never seen him in Camelot before. His clothes were rugged, contrasting his luxurious dark hair that you couldn’t help admiring. His dark eyes were soft, much like his voice, which seemed to be reserved solely for you when he spoke.

    “I don’t think so,” you said quickly, looking at the little white flower he held out to you. You were careful to stabilise your voice and not seem taken by him. “Not my colour.”

    “Let’s see,” he suggested. “A beautiful flower for a beautiful woman.”

    Before you could stop him, he took the flower in his fingers and placed it carefully behind your ear, tucking it into your hair. You could practically feel his breath on you as he did it, making you nervous.

    When he backed away, you scoffed, keeping your composure. “I bet you’ve got a whole bunch of those to hand out.”

    “Nope,” he said, raising his hands and giving a little smirk. “Yours is the only one.”

    You were still getting a creepy vibe off of him. What kind of person approached someone in a market?

    “Are you sure?” You asked. “I wouldn’t expect a man such as yourself to only have one.”

    The stranger laughed. “What kind of man do you take me for? A perverse one, I suppose, with the way you’ve looked at me since I got here.”

    “No one approaches a stranger in the market,” you said, “Without alternative reasons.”

    “Perhaps my only reason is to get to know you,” he suggested, a sparkle in his eyes.

    Damn, he was good. He was quick-witted, for one thing, and insanely handsome, for another. Conversation with him was somewhat addicting. You didn’t really want to leave now, not with the way he was looking at you.

“I’m Gwaine,” he said. “You haven’t told me your name.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps for good reason, Gwaine.” You could’ve sworn he smiled a little brighter when you sassed him.

“You’re like a princess to me,” he muttered. “Must have a name like Sophia or Esmeralda. That’s it. Princess Esmeralda.”

He then took a dramatic bow in front of you, immediately drawing the gaze of others around. You weren’t often the center of attention, being a maid of the castle. Occasionally attention would be drawn to Merlin, thus to you, but it didn’t happen often.

    “Stop it. People are staring,” you hissed.

    Gwaine grinned up at you stubbornly. “Not until you tell me your name.”

    “It’s (Y/N),” you said near instantly, almost worried about being in the spotlight for too long.

    “Ah. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He asked with a smile before gesturing to your basket. “Let me carry that. Princess shouldn’t have to lug her laundry around.”

    “Unfortunately, I’m not a princess,” you laughed.

    His charms were starting to wear off on you, you had to admit. You still thought he was a stubborn bastard who shouldn’t approach ladies in the market, but at least he was somewhat polite. He didn’t cat-call or objectify you. He called you princess and wanted to know your name above anything else.

    “Ah, but you see...you are to me,” he said.

    You laughed a little, tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows at him.

Gwaine’s smile fell. “This isn’t working, is it?” He asked. He sounded disappointed, but at least he’d figured it out in the first place.

    “Not as well as you’d hoped,” you admitted.

    You reached behind your ear, taking the flower he had placed there. It was a pretty little thing, likely freshly plucked from beyond the castle walls. You wondered where he had gotten it so quickly.

    Smiling both to him and to yourself, you took the flower and handed it to him, unable to miss the gentle way his fingertips caressed your hands as he took it.

    “But perhaps not as horribly as you feared,” you whispered.

    Leaning forward, you pressed a sweet, innocent kiss to his cheek, noticing the red tint there instantly. You had outplayed him and he knew it.

    You took a second to view the shell-shocked look on his face before skirting around him, leaving him to gawk in the middle of the market. Unbeknownst to you, he broke into a smile and turned to watch you go, placing the flower in between his lips to remind him of yours.

    After the melee, you were tasked with bringing a fresh bucket of water to the kitchens, for some odd reason or another. To be honest, you weren’t paying that much attention to the task they’d given you.

    You were too distracted thinking about Gwaine, the man you had met so briefly but had left a massive impact on you.

    After only a few days in Camelot, he was already banished, which you supposed spoke to his trouble-making nature. You knew he was one when you met him, but you couldn’t have imagined he’d be banished in such a short time. Even worse, he hadn’t adhered to his exile and instead competed in the melee. He did save Prince Arthur’s life, so you supposed his intentions were honorable.

    You couldn’t stop thinking about the crazy bastard, so when you saw him, bag and all, about to pass you on his way out of the castle, you knew you had to do something.

    “Gwaine,” you said, stopping him before he continued.

    He turned on his heel and smiled instantly at the sight of you, moving to stand before you as you put down your bucket. “Princess (Y/N).”

    “Again, not a princess,” you said, though a knowing smile played at your features.

    “If only,” he sighed. “Then perhaps you could pardon me and I could stay here in Camelot with you.”

    You paused for a second. “I wish you didn’t have to go. It seems I’ve only just met you.”

    “Feels like years since you have, doesn’t it?” Gwaine grinned, knowing he had that effect on women. The bastard. He then went serious. “You could come with me.”

    Sighing, you shook your head. “I have a life here, a job. I couldn’t live the life that you do.” You stopped for a second before smiling. “I do have something of mine you should take.”

    “Oh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

    He expected you to take something from your pocket, but instead you took him by surprise, kissing him square on the lips. He melted into your touch like a candle to a flame, so much so that it was almost adorable.

    When you pulled away, slightly out of breath, he grinned like a child. “I take it with me gladly.”

    “Be gentle with it,” you warned. “It’s delicate.”

    “Always,” he said softly, genuinely.

    Gwaine went to turn away, ready to take a journey far, far from where you would be. However, you had one more little surprise in mind.

    “Oh, and Gwaine?” You said.

    He turned once more, a sly grin on his face, which you expected was an effect of the kiss. You took the poor man by surprise once more when you slipped a small white flower behind his ear.

    “I think it’s your colour,” you smiled.

    His smile went from mischievous to genuine as he spoke quietly, only to you. “I think you’re right.”

    You were lost in his eyes when he leaned over to kiss you, making the decision for himself this time. He was a damn good kisser, distracting you so much that you barely noticed your hands reach to rest on the back of his neck.

    When he let you go again, you could tell he was reluctant to do so. He sighed, unable to help himself from tucking your hair behind your ear, reminding you of where the flower had once been.

    “Until next time,” Gwaine said, taking your hand, kissing it, and bowing again like a fool. “Princess.”

    You scoffed and rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the smile creeping up onto your face. These last few days, it had been a very common expression for you.

    You watched Gwaine turn away and begin to weave his way through the crowd. You couldn’t help feeling a little guilty for not going with him, but you had a feeling you’d meet him again someday. You told yourself he would be back. And you would be waiting for him when he did.

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Masterlist

[longeyelashedtragedy]

Writer ask meme

I was tagged by the flamazing @feedingmyinsomnia​ <333 and i will tag...if you want!... @perfectpiety @amethyst-fox-jv @ayerlind @sitkowski and anyone else who writes who sees this!  but you don’t have to, just feel honored that i tagged you ;)

ao3 name: catmanu!

fandoms: currently writing in the football (as in soccer) rpf fandom, but always have other things on my mind as well.

number of fics: i’ve written SO many in my lifetime and most have never been published anywhere.

fic i spent the most time on: technically “exit right” because it took me like...a year and a half to write it?  in terms of like...period of time spent actively writing it’s definitely “trophy boyfriend.”

fic i spent the least amount of time on: either “fly faster!” which i wrote in like, an hour or “jet ski još čeka” which i wrote over the course of a day.

shortest fic: my shortest standalone fic on ao3 is “the world drowned” at 370 words--my ancient shireen baratheon/rickon stark futurefic 

most hits / most kudos / most comment threads / most bookmarks / highest total word count:  ok im leaving out the drabble collections.  omg without even looking i know this is all gonna be fuckin... “captivated” because i’m The arya/jaqen person on ao3 even now.  let’s see.  most hits: “captivated,” most kudos: “captivated,” most comment threads: “trophy boyfriend,” most bookmarks: “captivated,” highest total word count: “trophy boyfriend.”  sigh

favorite fic i wrote: omg i think i made a post like this recently?   most recently my favorite fics are “trophy boyfriend,” “5.VII.,” “ça c’est ma dope,” “what we do in the élysée,” “victory rain,” “the heat of it all,” “soy loca con mi tigre,” “chief of the armed forces.”  in the past i love all my arya/jaqen stuff so much.  i really do love most of what i’ve written that i posted, but these stand out to me.  oh, and how could i forget-- “modernity towering in front of the sky.” still slaps tbqh

fic i want to rewrite/expand on: everything i’ve written is its own thing.  i don’t usually write things that require a sequel or anything, so there isn’t really anything i can think of?

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on:, ok, so, ahhhh.  i post a lot from my current big ass wip “mare liberum,” but another thing i’m agonizing over is my šluka (šime & luka) longfic “we light up the world.”  i thought it was going to be a fun little jaunt but it’s killing me because there’s not much of a precedent for it and i honestly have no idea how to write the pov.  F in the chat for my pov.  but sigh, i’ll stick a bit of it below; read at your own risk...

Tonight there really is a reason for him to be available and he’s had enough rakija on an empty enough stomach (what was the last thing he ate? How come he can’t remember?) to feel like putting his hand on Luka Modrić’s strong heroic leg and leaning into his face till their noses touched just like on Zadar beach and saying…well, he’s not sure what he’d say.  But he has to pretend he’s sober because Luka is pretty sober and his whole family is here anyway.

Fuck it!  They should have just done the grapes thing!

Šime pulls out his phone and makes Deki a Happy New Year! video instead.  It feels really good to talk to Dejan, even if he can’t talk back.

He gets an idea in the middle of this.  “Hey, look,” he says to his phone.   “Look who’s here with me.  Wait for it…wait for it…HEY…CAPTAIN!”

At least Luka looks happy to see him, and that makes him feel warm all over, warmer than you get from drinking alone.  He turns away from Vanja.  “What’s up?”

“Wanna say hi to Dejan with me?  Say hi, Captain Luka.”

Luka smirks.  “Are you two live?  I don’t want to be in any of your lives.”

Šime clutches his heart.  “Did you hear that, Deki?   Our captain doesn’t like our lajjjjjjvs.  Think we should—mutiny.”

Suddenly Luka’s bony chin lands on Šime’s shoulder.  “Happy New Year!” he yells in Šime’s ear.  Šime doesn’t really mind.  “Are you back in Croatia?  How many times have you bullied Davor this—oh, you’re not live.”  He ruffles Šime’s curls.  Dejan’s not going to be too thrilled about that, but considering he and Šime are both, well, married—and not to each other—Šime figures he can’t reasonably complain about someone else touching his ljubavi’s hair.  And he’ll tell Deki that if he does.  “You should have told me.  I feel stupid.”  He winks.

“Well...you said you didn’t want to be in any of our lajjjjjjvs,” Šime sings.  “So, now you’re not.  See?”  He sticks his tongue out at his video for Deki.  “C’mon, brate, I’ll show you who else is here.”  He moves away from Luka quickly.  Just in case.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed, but he’s definitely helped himself to another drink or two or more than two, and suddenly Luka has appeared next to him.  His hair looks so soft and fluffy and beautiful and Šime just wants--really, really wants to take Luka in his arms and put his nose in his hair and just hold him for a long time.  Rest his head on top of Luka’s head, maybe.  Whisper we’re so lucky to have you.  Please don’t ever retire, play until your bones turn to dust.  Please don’t leave.  

“Hey, do you want a ride home?” Luka asks.  All of a sudden he puts his arm around Šime and Šime pinches his leg pretty hard to make sure this is real.  Luka’s arms are—tricky.  When you first see them, you don’t realize how strong they are.  But when you feel them, you know.  And when one of them is wrapping around your shoulders like a big, heavy snake, you really know.  “I don’t know how you got here, but you shouldn’t get home that way.”

Šime snorts.  “Thanks, Mom.  Since when do you care…I’ve seen you way more drunk than I am right now.”

Luka is playing with the ends of his hair.  Why is Luka playing with the ends of his hair?  He pinches his leg again and it stings a little, but, is he dreaming that he’s pinching himself?  Did someone put something in the rakija?  He stares around the room wildly for a second, wondering who in there’s trying to get him in bed.  “Yeah, but I had people to take care of me, then,” Luka says.  “Even if people was just you and Domo holding my legs.”

“Mmmmm,” Šime agrees, remembering much more about those days than just that.

“But especially you.  You always look out for me when I get like…”  Luka gives him a wet kiss on the forehead and lets go of his shoulders.  “So let us drive you back.”

“Uhhhh.”  Šime stares at Luka till his eyes cross.   Wow, he’s definitely more drunk than he thought he was.  “Okay,” he says.

Sofia is asleep by the time they leave.  Vanja carries her to the car.  Their older two’s eyes are closing as they walk, so Luka holds their hands.  Šime walks a few steps behind them, feeling kind of like the family dog.  It’s not too late to call an Uber, right?.  He really should just call an Uber.  He will, actually.  He pulls out his phone only to realize that making Dejan a video had used up all the battery.

“Go on, sit in the front.  Come on.”  Šime blinks. Vanja is smiling at him. 

“No, that’s...You should sit next to Luka. I’m totally cool with sitting with the kids! They’re all so awesome.”

“They’re all so asleep,” Vanja says. Šime peeks into the car. In the back, Ivano and Ema have already passed out. “Take the front. You’re our guest.”

Šime flops into the passenger seat. He doesn’t want to be rude to Vanja, or make anything even more awkward. But it’s just that up here Luka’s cologne smells so strong and it would be so easy to reach over and just touch him while telling him he still thinks about being a Zadar kid with him just about every week. And he’s so bad at resisting temptation when he’s drunk. Mmmmm, my sinner, Dejan would say sometimes. My beautiful sinful sinner, God, my beautiful perfect—

“Hey, got a playlist?” he asks quickly.  If he gets hard thinking about Deki this won’t get any less weird. “How about some Marice, mariceeeeee--”

“I wish,” Luka says. “But the kids…”  Šime watches how the streetlights light up all the interesting angles of his face.  “Once they’re asleep, you’ll do anything to make sure they stay asleep.  You know how that goes.”  

Šime swallows around the guilty lump that’s suddenly appeared in his throat and he nods.  He keeps his eyes fixed on Luka’s face.  Each time a car’s headlights flash across it, it changes.  Sometimes he looks much younger than he is. And sometimes he looks…older than 34.  Like an eternal captain, like he’ll somehow be Šime’s leader forever even after he retires.

“Luka, stop talking to him,” Vanja says from behind him.  “He looks about as exhausted as the kids.”

“What?  That’s like asking me to stop playing football,” Luka says. “I could never stop talking to Šime.”  And keeping his eyes on the road, he takes one hand off the wheel to rest it on Šime’s leg. “We go way back.  Zadar kids and all.”

Suddenly words are hard.  “We, uhhh—yeah.  It’s not like I knew you back in the day.  We don’t go back that f--that--we…”

“What did I say?” Vanja said.  “Your best right-back’s falling asleep.”

“No, ‘m…’m not, I…”  And Luka is gently squeezing his knee, and--

“Maybe help him get inside,” Vanja is saying.  Šime blinks.  Somehow they’re back at his place and he has no idea how it happened.

“Hey, did I snore?  Did I talk in my sleep or something?”

“Nope,” Vanja says.  “I hate to say it, Šime, but you’re pretty boring when you sleep.”

“Oh?”  He yawns.  What is he, an old man all of a sudden?  A few drinks and this is what happens to him?  “Dejan says I’m cudd--”

“Okayyyy, out,” Luka says.  He’s totally covering up a laugh.  Shit!  “That’s a good idea, Vanja.  I’ll get him inside.  Can’t lose a defender, right?”

Šime says goodnight to Vanja, who now definitely knows he and Deki are fucking, but she’s a pretty chill person, so it really could be worse.  His legs wobble underneath him, and he bumps into the warm hood of the car.

[thenovelartist]

Debts on the Battlefield

This is the last prize for my TV Show contest going to @serenepy who wanted Adrienette and Mistaken Identity. After a few tries, I came up with this. I hope you enjoy it!

It all started when her parents were assassinated.

The neighboring country’s king swore they didn’t commit the crime. However, the evidence disproved his claim, and Marinette watched her father’s second-in-command declare war on the other country.

To say she wasn’t terrified of the thought of murder and bloodshed and war coming up to her kingdom would be an outright lie. This was her kingdom. If she were the heir, she would have gone on to negotiate with the neighboring king and try to uncover the truth. Unfortunately, even as the only child born to Queen Sabine, Marinette was not the true heir because she was a female, and the line passed down solely to sons.

So, she did the only thing she saw fit to do: join the military. She had been mocked at first, but when one of the commanders who had advanced high up the ranks spotted her, he enabled her to join.

“I remember you, your royal highness,” he commented with a smile. “You’re a crafty sort of girl. You were always able to slip around the house without anyone knowing. They called you Little Lucky Ladybug for good reason.”

And that was how she got her nickname. It wasn’t for two months that everyone fighting for her kingdom knew the spy that went by ‘Ladybug’. She was a valuable asset to the war.

Then came the dreaded day that she found herself caught up in a battle. It was in one of her kingdom’s towns, one that lay on the outskirts. Most of the town had evacuated, but for some, they had no where else to go but wait out the fight.

Marinette was forced to do the same.

She found refuge in a house close enough for her to see the fighting. Despite the queasiness in her stomach, she watched the battle. She watched as things exploded and guns went off and smoke billowed upward from the streets of the town. People were screaming; people were dying.

It was with a heavy heart Marinette watched the opposing forces win.

As the smoke cleared, it allowed her to see her army fall back, grabbing all the supplies they could and running in the cover the smoke provided. Those men would live to fight another day, and for that she was thankful. But when the smoke cleared completely, it allowed her to see the carnage in the streets, proving to her that there were many men who wouldn’t make it back home. Furthermore, this town that had once been hers was no longer.

She made it a habit to hold back her tears, but for today, she allowed herself to cry.

It was only once she was able to forcefully swallow the tears did she realize the front door of the house burst open. Her heart was pounding inside her chest as she froze instinctually.

Get up! She mentally chided. Move!

But it was too late. By the time she found the strength to stand, soldiers burst into the second story room, guns pointed at her.

Her only option was to hold up her hands in surrender.

…

He shouldn’t be here. If his father knew he was here, he’d have an absolute fit and likely punish Adrien as though he was a teenager instead of a man nearly twenty-one. But if his father was going to willingly go to war like this against Adrien’s adamant council, then defying his father it was.

Adrien roamed the streets of the town his kingdom had just taken over. He didn’t wear the uniform of a soldier, instead wearing plain clothes to blend into the surroundings. He wasn’t completely insane, after all. He was a hidden soldier, one that made shots from the rooftops and scoped out the best way to win against the enemy.

The moment a woman’s scream reached his ears, he instinctively looked up. Soldiers from his own kingdom were man-handling a woman, throwing her to the ground outside a house. They were yelling something, but at that point, Adrien didn’t care. The men had orders to not harm women and children. Even in this time of war, Adrien would ensure to uphold their honor.

Before one of the soldiers could strike the female, Adrien grabbed him, forcing him off his feet and disarming him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Adrien challenged.

Adrien felt the two other men point their guns at him while the man on the ground looked blankly up at him. With a scowl, Adrien threw the gun back at the man.

Adrien scowled. “Where is your honor, soldier? You don’t touch civilians, no matter which side they belong to.”

With that, he turned to offer a hand to the woman on the ground. Her wide-eyed gaze was mixed fear and intrigue. Adrien shot her a smile he hoped was charming before reaching his hand out to offer assistance. “I apologize on their behalf.”

She remained silent as she hesitantly took his hand and allowed him to assist her in standing.

She had beautiful blue eyes and hair like a raven’s feathers. Young, youthful face. A stunning beauty. He grinned, earnestly this time. “Was this your home?”

“No,” she admitted. “I was passing through and hid before I got caught in the crossfires.”

Poor girl. Yet, her voice held a stubborn courage underneath her fear. “May I then suggest running away from the fighting so as not to get caught again.”

“Understood,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “And thank you.”

With that, the girl spun around and scampered off.

Adrien watched her for a moment before turning back to glare at his men. “Listen carefully,” he warned, tugging out his pocket watch engraved with the kingdom crest. The men instantly stiffened and straightened. “Do not harass the enemy’s civilians. They already think lowly of us. Don’t give them any more reason to hate us.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

…

It had been a month since Marinette had been saved from her certain entrapment by an extremely handsome young man. At the time, she had been carrying enough notes on her to have her captured as a hostage. She swore that if she ever got the opportunity to repay her debt to him, she’d do it in a heartbeat. Never once did she worry about forgetting his face. She would never forget those kind, green eyes or that mess of blonde hair on his head or that genuine smile.

It was after a battle that she saw him again.

He was in a town among the bodies of many people, both soldiers and civilians.

She would have to make up time later, but for now, she helped him off the ground, propped him upright against a building, then scavenged the area for anything she could find to wrap his head wound.

There was bullet-riddled laundry hanging about that would have to do.

“Well, we meet again,” he said, his smile lopsided and eyes halfway opened as he watched her rip apart the fabric into bandages.

Her heart skipped a beat. He remembered her? “It seems so,” she said with a grin.

He hummed, then remained silent as she wrapped his wound.

“Thank you,” he said once she finished tying off the strips. “I find myself deeply in your debt.”

She blushed lightly. “No. You saved me from those soldiers. This is me repaying my debt to you.”

His smile turned roguish, which only made him more handsome. “I don’t agree. You’ve exceeded paying off what little debt you were in.”

Even though she’d have to scold herself later for being caught up here, letting her heart run wild for a moment, she shot him another grin while shaking her head. “Not by my thoughts.”

“Well, then,” he said, and she knew by that gleam in his eye that she was in trouble. “I’ll just hope that I get once last chance to free myself of this debt you have placed on me, whether you agree or not.”

She should get out of here before she gave into the will to continue flirting with a man she didn’t know the name of. That was already scandalous of her, but it was particularly offensive in the middle of a war. She forced herself to stand. “Then I hope that our next meeting will be under more pleasurable circumstances.”

The smile he gave her as she ran off would come back to haunt her for weeks.

…

He counted himself lucky beyond belief. He was supposed to be marching around the town, trying to scope out the battlefield. In his down-dressed state, he was able to walk straight past soldiers without any issue. He had to hold back his smug grin.

And that’s when he saw her.

Gleefully grinning, Adrien slipped around the crowds of people so he could be in front of her path. “Why, would you look at that?”

He startled her, and it hurt his heart to see the sudden fear of her realizing her path was blocked. The way she looked up at him, with wide-eyes full of fear and stance prepped to run, it was clear she was skittish. If it was from war, then he could do nothing but feel guilty. But if it was from his men attacking her, then he’d swear vengeance.

However, she relaxed, her hand over her chest probably to calm her racing heart. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Forgive me,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No. I’m just not used to being approached.”

He grinned. “Are you unused to men calling for your attention? I don’t believe that. A lovely girl such as yourself? You must have had many a man dropping at your feet before the war.”

Where those words came from, he didn’t know, but the blush on her cheeks as well as the skeptical smile was invaluable. “Careful, you sliver-tongued devil.”

He chuckled. “Forgive me. I can’t help myself. Nor can I stop myself from asking this question that has been on my mind since the day we meet.”

Her smile fell and brow knit in worry. He forced his smile to stay on his face even though he hated causing her guard to come rising up again like this. “Oh?”

“May I be so bold as to ask your name?”

Slowly, her shoulders relaxed and her smile returned. “Marinette.”

He tested the word on his tongue and very much liked the way it felt. “Well then, Marinette.” He reached for her hand to bestow a kiss on her knuckles. “What a pleasure meeting you officially.”

With a giggle, she tugged her hand away. “We have not met officially,” she teasingly scolded. “For I don’t know your name.”

Heat rose to his cheeks surprisingly quickly. “Ah, yes. What an idiot I am. My name is Adrien.”

Before she could respond, the clock chimed the hour, and he realized he needed to get back.

“Forgive me,” he said, bowing before her. “But I actually have somewhere I have to be.”

“As do I,” she said, taking a step back. “But it was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you, Marinette. I do hope to see you again.”

She gave him a smile before scurrying off into town. As he was leaving, he sent up a prayer that she would be getting out of town as quickly as she could. He didn’t want his Marinette caught in the cross-fires.

…

Her kingdom was losing the battle. They were up against an equally skilled army. The issue was they were much larger than their own.

That, and they had Chat Noir.

Marinette had been transporting a warning to all the squadrons all over her kingdom informing them about the man once caught in black leather taking shots from a high ground. It was as though he knew the terrain, knew the field, knew how their armed forces would be organized.

And that meant they were in deep trouble.

Marinette found herself caught in the cross-fires once again. She had been delivering messages about this Chat Noir figure to the troops stationed here, only for the opposing army to spring an attack on them.

Not wanting to be caught anywhere near the general’s house, Marinette scampered for another cover spot. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d be able to get out of the town completely. There were many people unprepared for the attack here, all running around frantically while trying to escape the city. In the commotion, she slipped down an alley way, only to run into a figure in a black leather vest.

She looked up, only to come face to face with Adrien.

His eyes widened upon seeing her. “What are you still doing here? Get out of the town.”

“I could ask the same for you,” she countered, holding tightly to the hand he grabbed as he pulled her along out of the city.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” was all the answer he gave.

“You and me both.”

They escaped the alley, only to skid to a halt upon seeing several of the opposing army’s men standing there, guns in hand.

One spotted them and raised to fire.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Adrien shoved her back into the alley just as the shot rang out. Marinette squeaked at the sound, sadly accustomed to it but not of it being so close.

“Run!”

So she did. As fast as she could, her hand in his, she ran, weaving through the town buildings with ease. But just as she turned the corner, she slid to a stop upon seeing even more soldiers. She ducked into the closest open building, dragging Adrien in behind her. He quickly shut the door, just as the soldiers started shouting and gunfire went off.

“Upsta—” She never finished that word and instead gasped at the sight of blood staining his shirt.

He looked at her, then down at his shoulder. His brow furrowed as he tugged at the cloth. “They got me.”

“We have to get the bullet out,” Marinette said.

He frowned at her. “And you know how to do that?”

She would love to say that she could confidently, that she personally did it before when she spent the first month of the war helping at a hospital while other nurses were being assembled. “I’ve assisted in the procedure and seen it done many times.”

His brow furrowed, questions clear on his face. But he didn’t voice them. “What do you need?”

…

Adrien was not looking forward to this. Once before, did he have to get a bullet taken out of his leg, but that was the extent of his major injuries. He could have waited for the battle to be over and his own army’s medical staff patch him up, however he knew they would be busy as is. And as Marinette listed off the things she needed, marching around the surprisingly full house with a determined expression, his confidence in her grew.  

Once they collected everything they needed, Marinette instructed Adrien to lay down on the bed upstairs. He stripped out of his vest and shirt before he did. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a slight dusting of pink on her cheeks. He didn’t know what to think of it, but he wanted to be flattered by it.

For the next several minutes, he was biting down on a rag while she dug the lead bullet from his shoulder and sewed up the wound. It was about as painful as he remembered it being.

However, the biggest pain of all was being shot by one of his own men. He supposed that was the price for trying to protect a civilian.

“Thank you,” he said once she was bandaging him up yet again.

“You have to stop getting injured when I’m around,” she said. He got the pleasure of learning her eyes sparkled when she teased.

“I’d love to,” he said. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s going to happen for the foreseeable future.”

She shook her head, but the smile she wore was one of amusement.

“I can’t help but notice,” he began, unable to help himself, “that I seem to cross paths with you in the middle of these battles.”

Her expression fell as her eyes locked on his.

“I…” she began, struggling with her words. “I have family and friends everywhere,” she eventually said. “But I’m as shocked as you are that you’re in these battles constantly.”

He forced a grin when he really wanted to cringe. “I… I’m documenting the battles,” he answered, thinking that it was a halfway decent excuse.

“Oh,” was all Marinette said as she tied off his bandages.

He had to think of something quick to change the subject. “Sorry for asking,” he said. “It just seemed odd that such a lovely young woman like yourself happened to be in the middle of battles. Not that I don’t love running into you; I would just prefer them being under much better circumstances.”

A lovely rosy hue spread across her cheeks, and he couldn’t help but feel warm knowing he caused that lovely look on her. Slowly, she ducked her head, a smile on her face. “Flatterer.”

He grinned. “Hardly.” The scary thing was that he meant it. Here he was, Prince of the Papillion kingdom, flirting with a commoner girl of the opposing kingdom. She was beautiful; that he wasn’t lying about. And kind. And had a lovely smile.

She snorted, turning away.

Despite knowing he should be out there, it seemed he was trapped here until the battle was over. His own fault for wanting to clear out the civilians. He told the general not to pull such a barbaric move, attacking a full town, but even though he was the prince, the generals swore they knew better. Today, they would have to serve without their eyes in the sky. It seemed fair to Adrien. At least, that was what he told himself so he would feel less guilty in the pleasure he took being trapped here with Marinette.

…

She was terrified. And that was an understatement. She’d been caught by the opposing army. She listened to the creak of the enclosed cart, the lock and chains on the outside making plenty of noise with every step the horses took. There were a couple army officials in the cart with her, all ones she’d been meeting with before the camp was raided.

What they were going to do, she didn’t know. So to keep the thoughts at bay, she thought of her kingdom. And when that got too hard, she thought of Adrien and his smile as he told her to stay safe as they last parted ways.

“I’ll find you again once the war is over,” he’d said with a wink. “Mark my words on that.”

With a sigh, Marinette forced everything out of her head. Apparently, even dashingly handsome, green-eyed blondes made her heart hurt too much.

…

“Father, we took the kingdom.”

Even though Adrien grinned for his father, he did not feel happy about it. He could only think of the civilians caught in the crossfires, of the towns he’d assisted evacuating when the fighting happened. His thoughts wondered to a certain Marinette and her bright smile, appearing in the battlefields. She wasn’t the only young woman running for her life from the war—there had to be people younger and far older than her running for their lives­—but she was the only one that came to the forefront of his mind.

“Good,” was all his father said. “I hope this serves as a lesson to anyone else who dares to accuse us falsely.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped. He didn’t like his father’s methods. He felt them flawed. They should have gone to the kingdom with white flags raised and assisted them in discovering who the true assassins were. That would have been far more beneficial for both of them.

“We will absorb their kingdom into ours,” his father said. “They are small, as are we. We will be a stronger power together.”

Adrien simply nodded. “What will you do with the war prisoners?”

Gabriel paused. “I suppose we will release them,” he said. “No need to make any more of an enemy with the new part of our kingdom. But document them all first so that they have records against them already. If there is an uprising they are a part of, then they will be tried.”

Adrien nodded. “Yes, father.”

“And I will have you oversee it,” his father continued. “I’ll be far too busy with other matters to oversee something so trivial.”

“Yes, father. I understand.”

…

Marinette may have hated liars, but right now, it was best to tell herself she wasn’t completely terrified that she might just die.

She, along with all the other prisoners of war, were to be documented as potential threats, meaning that if they ever made a wrong move, they’d likely be hung.

The men brought the prisoners out in several small groups. They were warned against acting out, even under the threat of the Prince of Papillion being there and able to give the order of them being hung on the spot. Marinette hoped for the sake of them all making it out alive that everyone would cooperate and the officials would be merciful.

The soldiers made their way through the rows of cells, meaning Marinette was one of the last to be taken out. And as the only woman, she was taken out alone.

She had to squint at the sudden bright daylight, and she cursed the sunshine. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but once they did, her gut sank.

Because Adrien stood there in his royal garb, proving he was the prince overseeing everything.

She watched his expression shift to one of horror. She shoved down her emotions and begged her eyes to stay dry. She had to pretend it didn’t feel like betrayal that the man she remembered fondly on the battlefield happened to be the prince of the kingdom responsible for murdering her parents.

She had been the Princess of Coccinelle; she would stand with her head high, chin raised, back straight. She would not cower.

“State your name,” the recorder asked.

“Princess Marinette Dupain of the Coccinelle Kingdom.”

Everyone froze, particularly Adrien.

The recorder was the first to move, ready to write the name down in the book.

But Adrien’s arm shot out, covering the page before the man could touch the pen to the paper.

“Your royal highness,” Adrien addressed, bowing before her. “I would like to give my deepest apologies for the treatment you have received. Should you agree, I wish to offer you a stay here at Castle Papillion, for there are many matters I would like to discuss with you.”

Curious, she rose a brow. “What matters do we have to discuss? You are the ruler of my kingdom now, are you not? That is what this war was about.”

He looked hurt at her words. As he should be. “The first matter I wish to discuss being a long list of apologies for our transgressions against you,” Adrien began, his words still strong and steady as a prince’s should be. “The second being an offer to discover who truly is behind the deaths of your parents, for I assure you that I know of no such plan that has ever been in place in this kingdom.”

Her brow furrowed. “You say you know of no plan, yet did you not just wage war against us?”

“My father agreed to such terms, but I swear I opposed it from the start.”

“If the king himself did not listen to your council then what makes you believe he will agree with your offer to me now?”

At that, Adrien was silent.

Marinette bit back the urge to smile bitterly up at him. “Then I will decline your—”

“Your royal highness, please,” Adrien said. “Please, allow me to make amends.”

“Amends!” Marinette cried in outrage. “You take over my kingdom and now want to make amends?”

Her heart was screaming in pain as she watched Adrien struggle for words.

“Yes,” he answered. “I do. Whether my father does is not a decision I can make for him. But I want to do what I can to express my deepest regrets.”

Marinette glared at him. Even though the logical answer was no, something in her… something in her didn’t agree.

“One day,” she growled. “I will give you one day.”

Again, he bowed before her. “Thank you, your royal highness. That is grace from you I know I do not deserve.”

…

There was nothing more humiliating than having to salvage any possible relationship with a princess that had been mistaken as a war criminal.

Adrien rubbed his eyes. His father had been less than happy at the news of what Adrien had done. His father had glowered at him and said, “I will have no part in whatever you decide to do.”

Which really meant that Father was disappointed in Adrien’s choices and would make Adrien clean up his own mess with his own resources.

Adrien felt that was fair. He’d bit his tongue against voicing off against his father, knowing it would only rain more hell back down on him.

He sat in his own study awaiting Princess Marinette to arrive. He’d ordered her to be tended to, which meant a bath, a place for the night, and a change of his late mother’s clothes. Then, he’d asked for her to meet him in his study for the morning.

When she did arrive, she looked none too happy.

“Prince Adrien,” she said, her voice sharp with irritation as she curtsied before him.

“Princess Marinette,” he returned, bowing for her. He then offered her to take a seat, which she did. She sat all and proud, chin raised, eyes fiery.

If they were on better terms, he’d gladly pour compliments over her and lay a kiss on her knuckles. However, he knew that would not be accepted at the moment.

He hoped that one day they would.

“Your highness, I need to apologize­—”

“Why.”

Adrien paused. “Why?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me with apologies after what you did to my kingdom?”

Adrien took a breath. “Because no matter what my father did, I disagreed with him from the start.”

“Yet you were on the battlefield.”

“If he was going to start a war I could not stop, and the generals were more than happy to put in in motion, then there was nothing I could do except hope to keep the casualties to a minimum.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him for a moment. “Is that why we constantly crossed paths in town?” she asked. “Because you were trying to keep civilian casualties low?”

“And I scouted ahead,” he admitted. “To see the best way we could surprise people and subsequently flush them out instead of firing deadly shots.”

Again, those sharp blue eyes locked on him. He stared back, hoping that she would realize that he was telling the truth.

“I want to believe you.”

Her tone was sharp, but somehow, he believed those words. “If you don’t, I would understand completely,” he said. “You have every right to be mad at me. You have every right to not believe me. Honestly, you have every right to hate me and my kingdom and my father. I won’t fault you.”

For a moment, her eyes fell to her lap. After a moment of silence, they returned to him. “Before the war began,” she started, “your father said your kingdom did not kill my parents.”

“I have every reason to believe that is the truth,” Adrien said. “We had no reason to start war with your kingdom. As I said before, I advised my father against going to war with your kingdom. If the assassins were from our kingdom, then we would brand them as traitors and bring them to justice. As smaller kingdoms, we would have been better off forging an alliance between us. Why start a war when we could be strong together and on good terms?”

Marinette looked skeptical, but at least she wasn’t angry at him anymore. Adrien would gladly take any peace offering she would give.

“Can I have your word,” she said, “that you know nothing about the assassins. Swear to me with the same honor you showed on the battlefield to my people—to me—that you did not have any involvement with them or the plan to take over my kingdom.”

He held up a hand in oath and looked her directly in the eyes. “I swear on my life and on my honor that I had no knowledge of any sort pertaining to your parents’ assassination.”

For the longest time, she just looked at him, studying him. He didn’t dare move.

“I believe you.”

He felt relieved, but knew that that her belief was shaky. “I swear to you,” he said, “that even if I have to spend the rest of my life proving that trust to you, I will. And I will begin today.”

It was barely noticeable, but her shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit and her chin lowered slightly.

He grinned. He supposed it was a start.

…

Marinette was in her castle, back in her own room that wouldn’t be hers for much longer. How long, she wasn’t certain, but Adrien agreed to let her stay in the home she grew up in until further notice.

“Your royal highness,” a servant that approached her said. “Prince Adrien Agreste of the Papillion Kingdom has arrived and requested an audience with you.”

Her stomach dropped. “Lead me to him.”

With false courage, she went downstairs to meet him. “Prince Adrien,” she greeted. “What brings you?”

The look on his face was worrisome. His frown was strong, and his eyes held a sadness. With his head bowed, he presented her a stack of letters. “Princess Marinette,” he said. “I must beg your forgiveness. I swear I have upheld my oath that I had no hand in this, but I recently discovered that my father has.”

Her heart stopped. With shaky hands, she reached out to take the offered papers and slowly opened them to read.

“I’m sorry,” Adrien kept repeating. “I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t read them fully. She could only skim them. Words popped off the page at her, haunting her. Somehow, she finished reading the damning papers. Her world felt like it was spinning, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Absently, she closed the papers, looking up at him even though she felt completely lost.

“Princess Marinette, I have a proposition to make you,” he began. His voice was filled with emotion he was clearly trying to shove down. “I met you on the battlefield many a time, and if the rumors are true, then you are a skilled spy. Though, you only became one to serve your kingdom.”

Her brow furrowed.

“I know I do not know you well enough to say this, but I will state it anyway: I believe you would make a great queen for your kingdom. As its heir, you should be the rightful ruler, not my father.”

She smiled bitterly. “That is kind of you to say—”

“I’m not finished,” he said. He glanced around at the soldiers in the room before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “I am only slightly more confident in saying that my father clearly does not have the proper respect or honor it takes to lead a kingdom.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his words.

A fire sparked in his eyes, and she knew he was about to say something dangerous. “So will you assist me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “In overthrowing my father.”

His words stunned. She was there with her eyes wide and mouth agape in a way she would certainly be scolded for.

“And once we do,” he said. “Because I am most certain we will succeed, I will take over for my father and grant you back your kingdom, allowing you to become the ruler that your kingdom deserves.” He paused, taking a step back to give her space. “I wish to prove to you that the man you met on the battlefield was one of honor. I’m asking for a lot, I am aware, but will you partner with me on this endeavor?”

Marinette looked him over, searching his eyes and his body language and his expressions. She knew it was madness to trust him, but then again, did he have reason to trust her? Marinette could tell he was earnest in his apology and righteous in his intentions.

“I remember on the battlefield,” Adrien continued. “How, each time we ran into each other, we would find ourselves in the other’s debt. Well, I seem to find myself vastly in yours, and I hope… I hope you will trust me enough to allow me to pay it off.”

While stunned at his words, she stuck her hand out in the space between them. “Surprisingly, I do trust you. Prove to me now that you are that man I met on the battlefield.”

He smiled, then reached for her hand, bowing over it to kiss her knuckles respectfully. “Princess Marinette, I will not let you down. And maybe one day, I will prove to you the kind of man I am.”

She smiled, remembering that first time they met on the battlefield. How he’d come to save her. The irony of each of them assisting the enemy was not lost on her. But now, she knew in her heart that they were fighting for the same side. “I believe you… Partner.”

…

It was the second hardest year of Adrien’s life. Plotting to overthrow his own father… he warred with himself about how terrible of a son he was. But in the end, when he discovered more incriminating evidence about his father wanting to wage war with another kingdom, that was all Adrien needed to be certain that this plan was for the best.

Marinette was a good partner. She would make an incredible queen, her words powerful and actions meaningful. But she was also sly and crafty and clever. It was because of her that a rally of trustworthy troops were at the ready to assist in bringing Adrien’s father to justice.

“I’m doing this for you, Adrien,” his father had said when presented with the evidence.

“No, you’re not,” Adrien scowled. “This is for your own selfish gain.”

After that, Adrien offered his father two options: step down quietly and give Adrien the throne, or be assassinated on the spot.

With Marinette pointing a knife at his nick, Adrien’s father decided to go quietly. Adrien called in several court servants to serve as witnesses as the paperwork was completed.

“I don’t want to lock you in the dungeons, father,” Adrien said. “I suggest going quietly to mother’s old estate.”

Marinette was the one who sent soldiers to monitor him for months. And when they came back a few months later saying he was killed, Marinette and Adrien decided to look the other way instead of seek justice.

The next several months after King Gabriel’s resignation were spent rebuilding the kingdoms and establishing Marinette as Queen of the Coccinelle Kingdom before releasing it entirely.

“But Marinette,” Adrien began, “one thing before you return.”

She turned her blue eyes on him. He could not deny the way his heart skipped whenever she looked at him. Or how it got hard to breathe. Or words failed him.

He swallowed. “I… For the benefit of both our kingdoms, I would like to bind our kingdoms together in peace,” he said.

She smiled, and he might have had to brace himself on his desk to keep from falling over. When he was a kid, he never understood the fluttery feelings lovers got in fairytales. Now, it seemed he understood them too well. “Well,” she began. “There is a simple solution.”

It took him much too long to come to any conclusion, and when he did, it seemed like the wrong one. “A marriage union?”

Her smile confirmed it, and nearly knocked him off his feet in the process. “I do find myself in your debt, after all.”

His brow furrowed. “How so?”

Her smile shifted slightly, changing it from congratulatory to sweet. “You returned my kingdom to me.”

“I could not have accomplished that without your assistance,” he countered. “Furthermore, that is the fulfillment of my debt to you.”

She shook her head. “I disagree.”

His heart skipped and he swallowed, giving him a moment longer to find words to say. “I don’t think that you owe me nearly enough to pledge your life to me out of gratitude.”

That locked the two in an impasse.  

“Then,” Marinette began. “May I suggest that you come courting, and maybe, after a while, I’ll find myself in such a debt that I won’t be able to say no to your proposal.”

He couldn’t hold back his smile even if he wanted to. “Then my I warn you that this young king has set his sights on a lovely young queen to be his bride.”

He relished the sight of her smile as well as the light dusting of pink on her cheeks. “Your warning has been noted. Best of luck to you in your endeavors.”

[meltypes-blog]

sakura seeds

[because the shared post looks weird as hell on desktop im putting the story in text post format] ao3 link

Hanzo Shimada hated himself.

That much was obvious.

He hated himself as he trained, the muscles on his arms and back straining until they cascaded tears of sweat, until his entire body burned and ached for rest. He hated himself while he ate, the simple pleasure of sweet and savory foods on his tongue only serving as a reminder of one other thing he had deprived his own kin from. He hated himself while he mediated, as if he could fool his brain into thinking that peace and quiet could erase the tumult in his mind and smooth over the jagged errors of his past.

His self hatred was apparent even on his countenance, his “RBF” as Genji had called it. Hanzo’s disgust for himself was soul deep, a seed that had planted itself in his heart since the first day his father had instructed him to murder in cold blood (“the master of the clan must protect the clan”) and had dug its claws deep the minute his blade had grazed Genji’s skin. His entire life was a culmination of all the wrong choices one could make, and it turned him into a bitter being, one that only survived out of the reasoning that even death was too honorable for him at that point.

His existence was unforgivable.

“You know I forgive you, Hanzo.” The brothers were seated on one of the many outlooks at the watchpoint staring at the sky, the sunset reflecting off of the younger, and irritating the older.

Hanzo only hummed in response. They were supposed to be meditating in silence, as per Hanzo’s request.

“I know why you come here.”

Hanzo exhaled through his nose and opened his eyes to glance at his brother. “To meditate, Genji. Shizukani.”

“No.” Genji turned to face him. “You come here in order to make yourself feel guilty. I know you, brother. You used to do it to me all the time when I went to the arcade. You would stare at me until I felt shame.”

Hanzo’s fists clenched on his knees. “How could you possibly know what I am doing or thinking? I have changed.”

“I know, because I am doing it as well,” Genji said softly. “Back then- I could have been more compliant, I could have helped you but I did not. I was young and stupid, and did not realize the gravity of my decisions, but I understand now. My actions were dishonorable. It was shameful of me-“

Hanzo stood up and turned on his brother, furious. “Do not. Speak to me of dishonor and shame.”

He walked a short distance then glanced back at his brother.

“Not until you have killed me for yourself.”

Later that evening, Hanzo messaged Genji that should he need to meditate, Zenyatta would most likely be available.

That had been the end of the their sessions.

He had been a fool to believe his brother could reconcile with him.

Genji still visited him, as Hanzo holed himself up in his room instead of socializing with the rest of the team- but that only ended in loud arguments.

“It has been weeks, Hanzo,” Genji stated exasperated, outside of his door. “How are they to know you if you do not allow them?”

“I am fine by myself,” Hanzo said.

“This is not healthy, Hanzo.”

Hanzo sighed. “I am perfectly healthy Genji.”

Genji threw his hands out. “You look like shit! You’re depressed and-“

Hanzo bristled, hand already reaching for his door. “Thank you for your concern, brother. Good bye.”

“Hanzo-!”

The door slid shut on the cyborgs face and Hanzo inhaled, exhaled, inhaled once more and breathed out.

Not healthy? Hanzo looked about his room. Healthy people had clean rooms, and his was pristine.

His closet held his various kyudo-gis, color coded. Organized. His small kitchenette held a shining kettle, small teacups and no dirty dishes. Clean. His bed was always made, not a pillow out of place, his furniture never covered in clothes and out of the way as always, orderly. His room looked brand-new, completely spartan. Nothing was worn down. Nothing was old or used or broken. It was clean. Healthy. It was as if no one had ever stepped foot in it before. As if no one lived in it at all.

Despite Hanzo’s fervor to abstain from socializing, that did not stop the others from coming up to him. Hanzo was out of his room to fill up his water container in the main kitchen, when one of the younger members had come up to him. They popped their gum in the awkward silence until-

“So...what’s your deal?”

Hanzo glanced at her confusedly, then turned back to his jug. If he remained silent, it was sure to deter her.

“Like- me and Lucio wanted to know since you’re like the base cryptid. We never see you until team simulations, and even then you’re only on defense so...you’re actually really good with a bow and arrow. Hey, can I call you Legolas?”

“What?” Hanzo blurted.

She smiled. “Y’know, that old fantasy series, he’s a meme because of those short guys and elf eyes and stuff.”

Hanzo felt himself soften. She was very similar to a younger man he once knew, one with green hair and bright eyes. “I believe they’re called Hobbits.”

“Hah! So you are a nerd! Lucio didn’t think so, but you look like someone who plays Pokémon. Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve got the whole samurai vibe going on too. Have you ever used a sword before?”

Hanzo mumbled no, then hastily escaped with a half empty jug.

Hana stood in the kitchen alone, a frown etched on her face.

The only other person that Hanzo conversed with aside from Genji was Dr. Zeigler- although, even then, that was less than desirable. He grabbed his sleeping pills and sighed when he realized the bottle was empty. Genji had annoyingly told the doctor not to give him more than a few days prescriptions at a time- not to deny that Hanzo had never thought of going out that way, but considering the fact that he was surrounded by those who risked their lives on the daily, it was extremely dishonorable.

Hanzo entered her office and she gave a strained smile, and he nodded in kind- the routine.

“Shimada-san, how can I help you?”

“I require another prescription, if you will,” he said placing the canister on her desk, making sure not to touch her. The first time she flinched when their hands touched had hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

“Of course.” She turned to grab a new prescription, placed it on the desk- but held and didn’t let go. “You know...Genji is concerned about you.”

Hanzo grunted in response, refusing to look at her.

“He says that you’re not...coping very well. From what he describes, it sounds as if you have depression, PTSD, perhaps even social anxiety-“

“Thank you, Doctor Zeigler, for the free consultation,” he interrupted coldly, looking at her with narrowed eyes. “But I am perfectly fine and would like to take my leave.”

Another strained smile, and she released the bottle. “Do come again, Shimada-san.”

And thus was Hanzo’s routine for months. The self-loathing, arguing with Genji, awkward and often tense food and water runs, picking up pills from the doctor. It went on for two months until-

“Howdy there.”

The cowboy had found Hanzo on his perch on the skywalk. He had come there to drink in peace after his fifteenth quarrel with Genji in two months.

Hanzo hummed.

McCree took a seat next to him and brought out his own flask. They drank in silence, the night air cold on Hanzo’s exposed skin. He was far too inebriated to be bothered by the gunslingers presence, and found himself actually drawn to his warmth.

Hanzo respected the American, despite his bluntness and overall...loud demeanor. He was a good shot, perhaps one to rival Hanzo, and he was tactically intelligent. More than once had the cowboy saved the team from dying due to his quick thinking and precise aiming.

More-so, he never approached Hanzo unwanted. He seemed to recognize when Hanzo was welcoming of a short conversation and when he was on the verge of seething rage.

An intelligent man. Warm. Hanzo subconsciously leant towards him, the alcohol getting the better of him.

“D’yknow the Deadlock gang?”

Hanzo grunted. “I am a former yakuza. What do you think?”

McCree chuckled. “Alright, alright. I may not look like it, but- I was their best asset. They used to call me,’The Undertaker.’”

“That does not surprise me. You are greatly skilled and smart.”

“O-oh. Well...” McCree coughed. “Anyways...I used to be real close to one of the members- his name was Jackie. J and J they used to call us, cause we were practically inseparable. Jackie was like my brother. I loved him.”

Hanzo turned to face McCree, slowly gaining an idea of where this was going. The gunslinger was looking down, fingers fiddling with his flask.

“Then I...I had to kill him. Turns out he was sellin’ information to Overwatch. Or maybe he was undercover. I don’t really remember. All I remember...”

McCree swallowed and he looked to Hanzo. “I remember feelin’ angry. Angry and sad and just- destroyed. And after he was gone all there was- there was nothing. I...felt empty.”

Hanzo’s heart seized. McCree looked away, pained.

“I kept askin’ myself, ‘how are you goin’ to go on now?’ I thought I was gone, gonna be empty forever. Then Overwatch found me and I decided that maybe I deserved a second chance. People believed in me. They saw me and saw hope.”

“Hope?” Hanzo murmured.

“Yeah,” McCree said, turning back to look Hanzo in the eye. “Hope that maybe even after a lifetime of all the wrong choices, one right choice can set you on the good path.”

Hanzo stared at him breathless. McCree’s eyes glinted in the moonlight, and then he noticed how close they were- their shoulders and thighs touching. Hanzo leant back, still transfixed on his bright eyes.

“Hope,” he repeated.

McCree nodded. He looked up at the stars and breathed deeply. “Come train with me tomorrow, archer. Ya won’t regret it.”

There started the deviation in Hanzo’s routine. For five mornings a week, the archer and sharpshooter trained together. They conversed about little things, favorite foods and drinks, then playfully argued when one named something that was distasteful to the other.

Hanzo’s self deprecating thoughts began to move away to make room for newer thoughts- one involving a tall man, red and flannel, bright brown eyes and a crooked smile.

Hanzo’s first real smile came during an intense training session. Both men were sweating profusely, challenging each other to see who could lift more. Of course, Hanzo prevailed- and Jesse cracked a joke at his own expense.

“Damn,” he breathed. “I’m pretty sure you could arm wrestle with Orisa and win with those beasts. Me? Can’t even lift Torb a couple of inches off the ground.”

His first real laugh had shown up during a team lunch. Hanzo had taken a seat by McCree and Genji, as he usually did, and said his thanks for the meal. Jesse pointed curiously at his food.

“‘S That wasabi?”

“Yes, it is.”

McCree snorted. “Weak shit. My hot sauce does more damage than that.”

“Is that so?” Hanzo raised a brow and gestured to his plate. “Why don’t you try some. You just need a small portion to see-“

“Don’t mind if I do,” McCree interrupted, spooning the entire portion into his mouth to Hanzo’s horror.

Genji winced from across the table and got up to get a glass of water. When he came back, he saw McCree red in the face, coughing, and Hanzo doubled over in laughter. The entire room laughed softly at the ridiculousness of the situation, and Genji felt a surge of happiness.

The first time Hanzo held hands with McCree was in their usual drinking spot on the skywalk. McCree had been blathering on about some old western movie when Hanzo moved his hand to cover the gunslingers.

McCree stopped talking immediately and looked down at their hands. Hanzo felt a surge of shame and slowly drew his hand away.

“I did not mean to-“

McCree gripped his hand before it could go any further, and gave him a bright smile.

“It ain’t no thing, darlin’.”

It was also the first time McCree had called him that.

Hanzo had opened up more. He did not feel so alone after meeting Jesse, no longer so isolated.

He began meditating with Genji again.

“You seem well, brother.”

Hanzo smiled softly. “Yes, I am.”

“It is because of McCree, is it not?”

“Partially,” he said. “I have come to realize that...one right choice can set me on the path of good. People believe in me. It would be a great dishonor to prove them wrong.” Genji lunged at him, hugging him close, and Hanzo was proud that he was able to hold in most of his tears.

Hana attacked him in the rec room a while later. “Yo, Samurai Legolas!”

He grunted not looking up, engrossed in an article written by Joel Morricone. “Do not bother me, Usagi. I am busy.”

It was quiet for a moment. Then-

“Did you just- what did you call me?”

“Usagi. It is the name of a popular anime heroine and also means rabbit. It is my nickname for you, since you seem adamant about mine. Trust me when I say it is an honorable one. Usagi was a powerful warrior, and also the cutest.” When he did not get a response, he looked up.

Hana was staring at him with wet eyes, and a huge smile. “I want to change mine for you.”

Hana now called him Big Bro every chance she got. When Hanzo turned in his sleeping pills, Doctor Zeigler looked at him in surprise.

“Are you sure, Shimada-san? You’re-“

“Perfectly healthy, Doctor Zeigler. And please, call me Hanzo.” He turned away from her, ears growing heated. “I have not needed them for...a while now.”

Angela’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, well,” she giggled,” alright then, Hanzo. Do come back again.”

“You believed in me.”

He and McCree were standing together in Hanzo’s room soaked, the rain pushing them from their usual spot.

McCree looked at him, and Hanzo’s heart stuttered. “I did. I used to be like you, back when I first joined so I understood. I still believe in you.”

Hanzo tentatively walked closer to him. “You had hope for me.”

McCree visibly swallowed and took his hat off, running his hand through his hair. “Yes. I still hope yo- still have hope for you, that is.”

Hanzo took a couple of more steps. “Why?”

McCree looked away. “I know a lost soul when I see one, s’all. Everyone deserves a second chance at redemption.”

They were nearly chest to chest now, and Hanzo had to strain his neck to look into his eyes. “You gave me hope. You have helped me to be better, and I...thank you, Jesse.”

Hanzo rested his head on McCree’s chest and Jesse’s arms came around him almost immediately, engulfing him in warmth despite their wet clothes. Jesse rested his chin on the archer’s head, and Hanzo nuzzled into his chest, face flaming and heart pounding.

“It ain’t no thing darlin’.”

Finally, after months of dancing, tripping and falling, McCree held Hanzo’s hands in his and grinned shyly.

“I really like you, darlin.’ Hope ya don’t mind that.”

Hanzo laughed and pulled McCree towards him. “I would hope that you do cowboy, considering we share the same bed.”

“I reckon people who like each other ought to kiss then, right?”

Hanzo’s face warmed and he leant up into Jesse’s space. “I believe that is how they express that, yes.”

McCree smiled and pressed his lips onto Hanzo’s, soft and sweet, the pull slow and languid. Hanzo nibbled on his lip and the kiss deepened, Jesse’s hands moving to bring Hanzo’s hips closer to his.

They separated to catch their breath and Jesse moved to Hanzo’s jaw.

“Ya know any other way people express how much they like each other, darlin’?”

Hanzo gasped a laugh, and gripped McCree’s shoulders as he kissed his neck.

“I am aware of a few, yes.”

McCree chuckled and nosed at Hanzo’s cheek. “Only a few? I got some evidence on my back that states otherwise.”

“Are you looking for more?” Hanzo smirked.

Jesse shivered and put his head on Hanzo’s shoulder. “What is it that ya always say? ‘The wolf marks his prey?’”

Hanzo flushed and smacked his shoulder. “Do not tease me, Jesse.”

McCree laughed, smiled at him, then gripped Hanzo’s hands, dragging him to their room.

Later, when both men were sated, they laid wrapped around each other, kissing lazily.

“Jesse,” Hanzo whispered, kissing under his ear.

“Yea, darlin’?”

“I love you.”

McCree shifted, laying on his side, Hanzo tucked into his chest. He leant his head on his elbow and dragged a hand down his lovers body. Hanzo shivered.

“It ain’t no thing, darlin’.” Hanzo let out a noise of protest, smacking his chest indignantly, and McCree laughed, wrapping his arms around him. He kissed his face repeatedly until Hanzo’s mouth met his, moving with intent, slow and hot.

“I love you too, Hanzo.”

Hanzo Shimada hated himself. Not as much as he used to, but the self doubt still lingered, the hatred a shriveled seed still present in his heart.

However, when he was with Jesse McCree, Hanzo hated himself just a little less- and a new seed blossomed in his heart, one he believed in and one he had hoped for all his life.

[missjackil]

Miss Jacki’s Top 30 Favorite Episodes

#13

Devil in the Details 11x10

After accidentally skipping yesterday, I think Ill be off by one day when Hiatus ends, unless I double up, as our boys will be back in 2 weeks 😍

This one actually shares the same spot with O Brother Where Art Thou, because its a continuation, and its equally as good IMO. 

When we left off, Lucifer had Sam cornered in the cage and taunting him, which Im sure messed many of us up for the Christmas break, but when they come back, we see we worried needlessly *sigh* and Sam isnt in immediate danger. Lucifer is going to walk him through a highlight reel of his life. It’s cute to see teenage Sam with what appears to be his first girlfriend, who is pretty forward and openly admits she thinks hes cute and funny and wants to make out! You go girl! But Lucifer uses this as a segue into how Sam isnt this same bold character he used to be. Hes gone soft.

Next, he uses his life with Amelia (bluck) to show him why he got soft, and shows him Swan Song, to remind him of how he was. How willing he was to sacrifice his life for the greater good, but claims he is no longer capable of that. Lucifer basically tells Sam that he feels too guilty for having not looked for Dean when he was in Purgatory, that he wont ever let him go again and he wont ever leave him again. But Luci is only half right. 

Yes, Sam feels terribly guilty, and no he never wants to leave Dean again, nor does he ever want to lose him again, but, he hasnt gone so soft that he wont sacrifice himself to save the world, nor would he stop Dean from doing so. So my boy has one of his greatest moments in the whole series, when he basically tells Lucifer to eff off. 

Now, Sam is a very flexible character, he changes very often... from season to season really. He learns from mistakes as well as victories and becomes better for it, What Sam has never changed from though, is his willingness to lay his life down for others. Lucifer thinks he has though. Sam might be more codependent on Dean now than he was years ago, but he is still willing to let Dean lay his life down for others too, That doesnt mean he wouldnt go looking for him, or die right along side of him, but he wont stop him. So Sam flat out tells Lucifer “No” he wont let him possess him again. But hes willing to die, and willing to watch Dean die to save the world, but he wont ever be Lucifers bitch. 

When Sam give this speech, I literally stood and applauded him!! THIS is why I love this man (among a million  other reasons)!! These are words and emotions to really hang your life on. Find that thing you wont ever allow yourself to do, and tell it off. Have your ultimate limits. Test yourself, how far can you go and still stay in control? You can put up with this thing, put up with that thing, but this is where you draw the line. If you need to stand up for yourself to someone who intimidates the hell out of you... channel Sam Winchester in this moment... seriously. There is no greater, scarier, more dangerous bully in the world than Lucifer, and Sam told him to go fuck himself.

When I was a kid dealing with bullies, aside from learning Shotakan to help defend myself, my father told me that sometimes Im gonna have to decide, whats gonna hurt worse, giving the bad guy what they want, or getting punched in the face. If I feel like Id feel better about myself by giving the bad guy my lunch money, then give it, but if I feel like getting punched in the face wont hurt as much, then be prepared. Sam here, felt he could live with whatever Lucifer could dole out on him, better than how he would feel about himself if he gave in to him.

SPN sometimes throws in some great life lessons. The whole series itself deals with life’s gray areas, places where the lines of morality arent clear, This double episode was one of them. Sam was almost sold on Lucifers plan, but then he used his brain and logic. If he did let Lucifer in again, sure he COULD save the world, but its most likely that Lucifer would end it anyway. So screw it, if its gonna end anyway, he will go down fighting along side his brother and his friends. 

An honorable mention of another great scene  Dean: Wheres Sam? Crowley: Dont worry about Sam Dean: Im sorry, have you met me?  That was precious LOL

[lukeskywalking]

im asking luke lovers on here this and i'd love to hear your thoughts on it: what rian did to luke in tlj was a character assassination, but what do you think realistic character development from luke would look like. how would he have handled what went down with kylo, and where do you think he would have been when the events of tlj took place? would he even have exiled himself? would he have stopped using the force?

Okay first of all, I am honored you considered me for this!!

Honestly?? I don’t think it would’ve gone anything like what the ST mapped out for him. Despite my love for TFA, I was always kinda squicked out by the fact that Luke just...ran away. So, here’s my take:

I can understand him being tired. I can understand him being disheartened. I can understand him questioning himself, and wanting to give up...but I don’t think he’d ever actually do it. I mean, this is the same man who was told to kill his father, and responded with what was essentially “fuck that, he’s my father. I’m going to save him. Watch me.” The same man who threw himself down a shaft because he would rather die than give up to the dark side. The same man who was told he couldn’t learn the force, and promised he wouldn’t fail. The same man who, when given the chance to kill his father, tossed his lightsaber to the side, looked the Emperor in the eye, and said no.The only time he even considered giving up was with his X-Wing on Dagobah, but...at that time, he was still at a point in his life where he let his frustrations hold himself back. And he grows out of that, it’s a huge part of his character development. Plus, I mean, grand scheme of things. You can bet your ass that if the X-Wing was still in the swamp when he had his vision about Han and Leia being hurt, he would’ve hauled that shit out of there with his bare hands.  Luke values his family far too much. He’s a man who has his morals, and stands by them till the bitter end. 

That being said, I don’t think the encounter of Kylo would’ve gone anything like that. Once he sensed darkness in Kylo, would he be frightened? Sure! Would he be worried that all the work of the Rebellion would be undone? Of course! But would he sacrifice his nephew to save it? HELL NO. Remember, the Rebellion was at stake when he went against Vader, but he truly believed that saving Vader would save the Rebellion in the process. Now, at this point, Luke knows that his compassion with Vader was ultimately successful. Compassion is one of his key traits. I think he would’ve used that compassion with Kylo. He would’ve reminded him that he was loved, and he had light in him. Then, he would’ve gone after not his nephew, but the source of his darkness -- Snoke. Just like he went after Palpatine instead of Vader. And he would do this to defend his family. 

So let’s say, for the sake of the story, that this isn’t successful. Kylo attacks him anyway, in which case he would bring out his lightsaber only in self defense. Kylo blows up the school, kills the students, yadda yadda yadda. I still don’t think that Luke would give up. Again, he would be disheartened and sad and guilty and maybe a bit angry, but at his core, I don’t think Luke would have it in him to just run away. I think his guilt would drive him to want to fix it. I think he would’ve worked together with Leia and Han to bring his nephew back to the light. 

Because in the end, Luke’s core values are love, compassion, and FAMILY. Nothing motivates him more than his family. The only time he gets violent with Vader (after the parentage reveal) is when his sister is threatened. It has always been what drives him, even from the beginning ---- the whole reason he starts his journey is to become a Jedi like his father. So when his nephew is at stake? He would do his damnedest to save him. No matter what.

Yes, I expect that the stress of it all would wither him just a tad, but I also expect him to retain the basic fundamental values of his character. 

Rian Johnson, take notes.

[mclennunf]

This Boy - Chapter 33

A/N: im so sorry its taken this long... really i am... but i thank each and every one of you for the support. please enjoy! 

~John’s~

The morning of the trial was like any other, regardless of the fact that Paul and I had to dress all posh and fancy like. He knew how much I hated it, and he milked it for sure. I popped my pill in my mouth and washed it down with a sip of water, waiting for Paul to finish primping and priming himself. So far, he seemed to be dealing with this well. It was the fact that we hadn't actually arrived at the courthouse yet that I was worried about. But, my Paul is strong. 

"Ready, love!" Paul called as he trotted proudly down the stairs. "Beautiful." I smirked at him as I pulled him in for a quick kiss. Gin and Mike came down the stairs after him, and Paul pushed me away. I knew our relationship was a secret and always had to be, but Lord was it getting annoying. The drive to the courthouse felt like an eternity for me. I could only imagine what it felt like for Paul. I kept glancing at him and giving him reassuring smiles, and he would flash me a not-so-convincing smile back. But, he wasn't having a freak out or a break down and I had to be thankful and proud of him for that. When Gin finally found a bloody parking spot, it took all of me not to take Paul's hand and proudly walk into that courtroom like we owned the bloody place. Paul and I sat down at the front, Gin and Mike in the observers seats. "Ready, lads?" Mr. Edison greeted us as he sat down next to Paul. We both nodded hesitantly.

Paul's eyes made the same change they always did when he was feeling numb. I looked over to see what he had been staring at, and it was Jim being escorted in by his lawyer and a police officer. They sat parallel to us facing the Judge's bench. "M'love," I whispered, catching Paul's attention. "Thank you." He half smiled and tilted his head. I could tell that all either of us wanted was to kiss right there and then. "All rise," An officer announced. We stood as the Judge entered, and I brushed my hand lightly against Paul's. The touch was soothing. He brought his hand back to mine and pressed his knuckle against mine. The warmth of his hand almost brought my mind away from what was truly happening, this trial. I imagined Paul and I lying on our backs in Strawberry Fields as we had the first night everything happened for us. The way we fell asleep and woke up holding hands. Moments like those remind me to be strong for him, in moments like these. 

"Be seated." The Judge ordered. She was a middle-aged woman with long blonde hair and a few wrinkles. We did as we were told, our hands still dangling at our sides so that our knuckles could secretly touch. "Mr. Edison, proceed." The judge gestured toward our lawyer. My stomach did a flip, and I watched Paul's face turn completely white. Mr. Edison stood up and walked up to stand in front of the Judge's bench and the jury. A small group of people I had never seen before, which made me assume they were from Blackpool. Everybody knows everybody in Liverpool. Guess they have to keep it anonymous, or whatever. "Good morning, ladies and gentleman. Let me introduce myself. My name is Mr. M. Edison, and I will be representing Mr. James Paul McCartney and Mr. John Winston Lennon throughout this important case." He gestured toward us as he spoke our names. I felt Jim's eyes on me, falling back and forth between myself and Paul. Paul stared ahead at Mr. Edison.

Mr. Edison was very good, and very smart. He turned back to the Judge and jury. "My reason for being here this morning is to help you anticipate what you will hear over the next few hours when listening to evidence. We have both of the victims and their witnesses here to make statements and I do trust that you, the jury, and Your Honor, will do your job to it's fullest extent and see that there is no other choice than to find the defendant guilty on all counts." Mr. Edison nodded a thank you to the Judge and sat back down next to Paul, who smiled at him. I had a feeling this was going to go well, regardless of how terrible it would be to hear Jim McCartney defend himself and try to win custody back of Mike. Mike. I spun my head around quickly to check on him. He was glued to Gin, staring at Paul and I. I gave him a small smile and thumbs up, and turned back around. "Will the defendant rise with your opening statement." The Judge pointed to Jim's lawyer, who then stood in the same spot Mr. Edison had.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Your Honor, we have been brought together today in regards to a tragedy that has taken place. An innocent man lost his wife to cancer." The lawyer referred to Paul's mother. I glanced over at him, but he didn't even flinch. "You or I could've easily succumb to this undeserving loss and would've dealt with it the same way Jim McCartney had. He tried to take care of his two sons on his own, with none to little help. When his oldest son began rebelling and acting out, Mr. McCartney Sr. felt unwanted and unloved. This is something that we can blame on our so called victim, Mr. McCartney Jr." The lawyer pointed at Paul, who did flinch this time. It took everything I had to stay seated and not pounce on the little bastard, but I needed to stay calm. For Paul. "We would like to call Michael McCartney to the stand." Mr. Edison spoke up. Paul and I both watched as a small, young Mike made his way nervously up to the stand. It was horrible to me that they would put the poor lad up there on his own. But, when he moved, I noticed George and Ritchie sitting behind Gin. I half smiled, and focused my attention back on my young brother-in-law. "Michael, thank you for joining us!" Mr. Edison was sweet to Mike, thankfully. Paul had a very worried, protective look on his face. Who could blame him though, really? Mike only nodded back at Mr. Edison. "Do you remember when your Daddy started drinking?" Mr. Edison asked, leaning on the front of the stand in hopes that Mike would forget he was speaking in front of a room full of people. "N-no, sir. My Daddy always drank." Mike's small voice replied. "Okay, you're doing great." Mr. Edison gave him a high five, causing Paul to smile like a proud Poppa. "Do you remember when your Daddy started hitting your older brother, Paul?" Mr. Edison asked another question. Then another, then another. It got to the point where Mike was describing the day that Jim had hit Paul over the head with the chair, down to the nitty gritty details of blood and teeth and what the sound of ribs breaking sounds like. "I-I want Paul," Mike finally broke down into tears. Mr. Edison and the Judge allowed Mike down from the stand, where he ran over and jumped into Paul's arms and cried into his shoulder. "Shh, Mikey. I'm here." Paul was biting his bottom lip the way he always did when he was fighting back tears. 

"We would like to call Mr. McCartney Sr. to the stand." The other lawyer spoke up, and the Judge nodded in approval. Here we go. Mike stayed on Paul's lap for this. "Mr. McCartney, you admit to hitting your son. But, you were ill. An alcoholic. Do you think you can be held responsible for these accusations?" His lawyer asked, pacing back and forth in front of our bench. "No, sir. I was under the influence of alcohol and dealing with severe depression." Jim replied with a nasty grin. "And your son, James, he was a troublesome child who caused you nothing but stress?" He asked. "Yes. He was always causing trouble at school and at home. Reckless and careless." Jim lied through his bloody teeth. I clenched my jaw in tension. But, Mike put his small little hand on top of mine and I felt my jaw release. "Objection." Mr. Edison spoke up. "We would like to call George Harrison to the stand. A long time family friend of the McCartney's." Mr. Edison gestured to where George and Ritchie were sitting. Jim limped his old arse back to his bench and sat down, but not before giving me a long, threatening glare. George made his way up to the stand, wearing a nice dress shirt and tie with his tight black pants. They reminded me of Hamburg, and I smiled at the younger lad, thankful for the fond memory and good mate.

"Mr. Harrison, how long have you known the McCartney family?" Mr. Edison asks with a kind tone. "All me life. Me Mum 'n Da' always had tea at the McCartney's, even before me 'n Paul were born." George's voice was shaky and nervous. Which, he had every right to feel. He glanced around the court room. It was rather large, but all of the benches, seats and people made it seem extremely small. "Can you remember Mr. McCartney Jr. ever being a troublesome child? At home, or at school?" Mr. Edison went on. "Well, y'know, all kids are a little troublesome. But Paul was always a sweet lad, me best mate, he is. Always has been. Only time he ever caused a problem at home was when 'e stood up for 'imself against 'is Da's fist." George was brutally honestly, causing an actual small reaction from the jury, which gave me more hope. Paul was bouncing Mike on his leg soothingly, but I could tell it was also due to his nerves. Mike's little hand was still on top of my now very sweaty hand. "And, Mr. McCartney Sr. stabbed your other mate, Mr. Lennon? Is that correct?" Mr. Edison pointed to me. As the words escaped his mouth, Mike tightened his grip and laced his fingers with mine, holding tight as if to tell me it was all okay.

"That is correct, sir." George nodded. "And why did he stab Mr. Lennon?" Mr. Edison crossed his arms and glanced briefly at the jury, and back to George. "Uh, well, Paul's Da' wanted them to move to Scotland. Paul said he didn't wanna go, and Jim needed someone to blame. So he blamed John, and attacked him." George explained, looking over to me with sorry eyes. I blinked at him to reassure him that we were all okay. "Thank you Mr. Harrison." Mr. Edison allowed George to go back and sit beside Ritchie, who definitely was hiding his tears, unlike Gin, who had been crying since the second Mike walked up to the stand. "Mr. McCartney Jr. Please come to the stand." Mr. Edison said with a smile, trying to keep his client calm. Paul picked Mike up and placed him over to me, on my lap. I wrapped my arms around his little tummy and held him close as Paul walked up and sat in the stand.  

And then Paul had to tell the story from his point of view. Which is the story we all know, and hate. Hearing Paul tell every little detail made it seem as though I was reliving it, as I can imagine it made him feel, too. I could see everything playing out in my head. The bathtub. His black eyes. His cigarette burns. His broken bones. All of the horrible moments I had witnessed in Paul's life flashed before my bloody eyes. Thankfully, Mike was getting fidgety and brought me back down to Earth. I was extremely proud as I looked at Paul. He kept himself together quite well, better than I had expected, anyway. He had a few moments of tears where he couldn't speak anymore, but regardless, he did an amazing job. Once again, if only I could kiss him in front of all of these people. "I have heard enough." The Judge interrupted him with a stone cold expression. Paul seemed surprised by her cutting him off, just as we all did. "I would like to dismiss the jury, take a short recess and come back with a sentence. Thank you." The Judge banged her gavel rather loudly, and everybody dispersed. Mike went back to Gin, who took him to get some water. Paul and I sat on a little bench outside of the courthouse to have a smoke.

"I love you." I whispered as I lit the cigarette that was already hanging out of his mouth. He took in a long, drawn out drag and blew the smoke down toward our feet. "I love you too." Paul didn't look up at me. "You did amazing." I reassured him. "Wish I could reward ye." I nudged his side lightly with my elbow as I smoked my cigarette with the other hand. "She cut me off, though. Not a good sign." Paul objected. Before I could make a statement about that, Mr. Edison poked his head out of the door. "The jury has come to a final decision. The Judge is ready for sentencing. Are you.. Are you ready?" He asked in a concerned manner. I nodded, and poked Paul's arm. "Are you ready, babe?" I said quiet enough for Mr. Edison not to hear. "One second," Paul called back to him. He nodded and closed the door. Paul took a quick look around, before throwing his cigarette on the ground and crashing his lips against mine, wrapping his arms around my neck. I breathed in his heavenly scent and smiled into the kiss. When he unfortunately pulled away, he was smiling too. "Never let go of me." He whispered. "Never, m'love." I winked. We made our way back into the crowded court room. 

"Let the jury state their finding and majority vote." The Judge gestured. "Here we go." Mr. Edison whispered as he shifted his body to face the jury. The jury representative stood up. Paul and I both held our breath, waiting for the decision to be announced. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the way everybody turned their head toward the jury's bench, the way the jury representative fumbled with their papers and forms. Even the way Paul took a glance at me, seemed like an eternity. 

We were about to find out a decision that could change our lives forever.

[mysticdaddies]

V/ Jihyun Kim Wedding Dance: One Shot

Hello everyone c: there was originally suppose to be only two winners for the wedding dance one shot: Saeran Choi & Jumin Han  but I made a open debate for either Seven or V :) Reading the arguments I decided to side with V :)  Its been amazing writing this little series and I hope I can do future polls :) Now lets enjoy the ending of this series. The song of the wedding dance is: Like I’m Going To Lose You, by Meghan Trainor ft John Legend 

“The one word in the English language, fuck it, in any language, is the word almost. That one small six-letter word has the power to change your mood drastically. It has the power to make you feel happiness and yet it can be the reason for the death of the old you. Almost is one hell of a word” - Mod Saeran

I don’t believe people know the real meaning of almost. The power that “almost” has is very terrifying because I almost died because of Rika. I almost sacrificed my life for her simply because I was in love with her. I looked into the mirror and all I could see was was blur, the eye surgery I had months ago was a success but they did say it would be slow process. How pathetic am I for being a baggage for (y/n). I could see some things but the rest of my life was one huge blur. I left the bathroom and I saw Jumin, my best man, and the rest of the RFA who are my groomsmen. I walked closer to them and fell on my knees letting the demons take over “ I DON’T FUCKING DESERVE HER! SHES BEEN IN LOVE WITH ME FROM THE BEGINNING AND ONLY RECENTLY I LOVED HER BACK” I cried out shaking from reality. Jumin kneeled on the floor with me and pulled me into a hug “Jihyun I known you for a long time, you are practically my brother, please don’t be hard on yourself. I am truly sorry you have to go through this but just know we are your family and we will be here for you” he hugged me even tighter and I opened my eyes and I saw my family. They all helped me freshen up because they were afraid something might happen to me. Damn, I’m a baggage to everyone in the whole RFA. I blinked quickly a few times and I noticed I looked quite decent. I smiled and was ready to meet my bride.

TIME SKIP: WEDDING DANCE 

I grabbed her hand and brought her closer to me. The whiff of her perfume brought me to so many memories that it made it seem like I was watching a movie in my head. I brought her closer to me and then reality hit me, Im actually married. However, she isn’t the one I want. I don’t love her…. my heart belongs to someone else. I grabbed her face and made her look into my hazy eyes “ Im sorry, I only married you because of the baby but, my heart belongs to someone else, enjoy the party” I kissed her forehead and went to look for Jumin. I accidentally bumped into Saeran and he knew what my crazy ass was thinking. He gathered the whole RFA and they knew where I needed to go, where I needed to be. 

TIME SKIP: 

I kneeled down and looked into your eyes. My god, I am thankful that my vision gives me enough strength to stare at your angelic face. “My precious (y/n) how thankful I am that we were born in the same century because I was graced with your angelic beauty. You showed me the reality of love, the cold hard truth of it. That love isn’t about the good but also the bad. I’m sorry that I didn’t return your love till later, but please understand I only married Rika because she is carrying my child. You are my true love and I just wish I realized what love really is before it was to late” I grabbed my phone and played the song that I am going to dedicate to you.

I found myself dreaming In silver and gold Like a scene from a movie That every broken heart knows we were walking on moonlight And you pulled me close Split second and you disappeared and then I was all alone

I gave a heavy sigh and looked into your soul “You came into my life out of nowhere. Whenever I chatted with you briefly in the RFA messenger, my heart skipped a beat and I always looked forward to talking to you, even if it was once in a blue moon. When I noticed you weren’t active in the messenger as you use to be, I visited the apartment and noticed you were ill. It was an honor taking care of you because you could of simply refused but you didn’t. You didn’t even ask me about my sunglasses but I told you either way. When you got better, I still visited because you were a bright light that kept pulling me towards you. I always thought to myself, ‘Why does (y/n) have a strong hold on me if I haven’t even looked into her eyes’ because looking into a persons eyes you can tell what kind of soul they had. That night that we saw each others soul, we made love that night. Neither of us didn’t plan it but the moment we looked into each others eyes, our souls gave that little ‘hah I finally found you’ type of feeling” I was opening my heart to you and I wasn't afraid because you needed to know….

In the blink of an eye, Just a whisper of smoke, You could lose everything The truth is you never know, So I’ll kiss you longer baby, Any chance that I get I’ll make the most of the minutes and love with no regrets

I wiped my tears away gently trying not to worsen my vision because I needed to look into your eyes while confessing my truth to you “The few months that we spent together was honestly the best time of my life. Who cares how cliche it sounds but its my reality. You were my personal oasis and I will be forever grateful that you provided a heaven for me while I was stuck in hell. I didn’t tell you the truth of my situation because I knew Rika will kill you off in a instant and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. I told you one night that I couldn’t come back and visit because I needed to take care of business and all you did was kiss me and we made the most passionate love that night. It was our souls and bodies melting together into one. You made me breakfast and you kissed me with so much tenderness and you looked at me with those eyes and simply said ‘ We will find our way back to each other don’t worry baby. We will always find our way back cause our souls loved each other for so long that nothing will tear us apart’ and I kissed you not knowing what life would bring us. Oh how I wish you were wrong my love”

I’m gonna love you, Like I’m gonna lose you, I’m gonna hold you, Like I’m saying goodbye wherever we’re standing, I won’t take you for granted ‘cause we’ll never know when, When we’ll run out of time so I’m gonna love you, Like I’m gonna lose you ,I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you

“ You walked in that night and I saw you, Saeyoung, and Saeran caught in the trap of my ex lovers web. Emotions were high because everyone was finding out the cold hard truth of my ex lover. That she was the reason for everyones pain and suffering but it was worse because I knew what was going on. I notice Saeran pointing his gun at Rika and old habits die hard that I was getting ready to take the hit. What I didn’t know that you were going to jump in front of me and take the bullet yourself.” I wiped the tears from my eyes and finally had a clear picture of your face that was on your tombstone. Your tombstone. It still hurts to admit it. You died for me. You risked your own life for me while I was risking my life for another. Your last words to me was the one that dragged my heart and soul with you to the after life. I closed my eyes and remembered your final moments: “Thank you for giving me forever in just a short span of a couple of months. Please do not feel guilty because its an honor dying in your arms Jihyun Kim.” I remember you coughing out blood while my hand was firmly placed on your wound hoping the bleeding stopped. You looked at me and your soul was leaving your body “We will always find our way back to each other, I love you Jihyun, Ill see you in our next life” You eyes were slowly closing but I kept screaming for someone to do something. Three minutes later you died in my arms. I witnessed your final breathe and from that moment, I died as well. 

I got up and digged a little hole next to your tombstone and buried the ring that was wrapped with a red ribbon with the wedding vowels I had attached to it.

I breathed in while placing the dirt to cover the rings “Here are my vows to you. I promise when we meet again, I will cherish you and love you till the end of my life time. With this ring that I am placing next to you, I promise to always walk by your side till the end of time. You are the owner of my heart, body, mind and soul and it doesn’t matter if we couldn’t spend this life together because I know our next one will be beautiful. You don’t understand how much I miss you when I wake up and you aren’t next to me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such a precious soul like yours but I thank God every moment that we were together for blessing me with you. I vow to found you in our next life and I vow to make sure that our forever will be longer”

 I did a small prayer for you and looked at your picture again and sighed “ I love you (f/n) (l/n) and I cant wait to spend forever with you again in our next life. Thank you for teaching me what love really is and I hope in our next life we can have a family of our own. I love you. Im glad we almost had our happy ending.” and I walked toward Jumins limo where the rest of the members were waiting. Jumin gave me a reassured hug and the other members were giving me warm smiles, while Saeran looked into my eyes and I saw his soul was taken from him as well. Before I lost sight of your tombstone I breathed in heavily and exhaled “ Goodbye (y/n) see you soon” and closed my eyes. 

[nbmudkip]

💕💔!

💕: talk about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

okay for certain media, usually stuff i either kin a char from or have a really strong hyperfixation on, i find it really, really hard to pick favorites or least favorites because it feels like im choosing between family members or real life best friends. so trust me when i say that i love literally almost all of the characters and that i cant really pick one as a favorite over another. id also like to keep this short—full on character analyses are extremely fun, but they also take a lot of time and effort and are difficult to write in a way that isnt absolute indecipherable gibberish for me. so, a speedrun description of Magnus Burnsides and Why I Love Him So Goddamn Much: respects women. OBVIOUSLY gives fantastic hugs. has a little magic fish he keeps in a little magic orb that i love. hes kind and selfless and brave and so goddamn cheerful and hes protective and so so so full of love and it makes me so happy. travis did an absolutely amazing job with him and i fucking love both of them so much it’s unreal. (you shouldve seen me when i met travis at gencon a couple years ago. there i was, in full taako cosplay with perfect makeup and six inch heels, sobbing my brains out just because of how honored and overjoyed i was to see him. i cherish that moment)

💔: talk about one of your least favorite characters and why you dislike them

AGAIN with certain media i just have a FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TIME with trying to hate characters because of how closely knit i am to the world and the characters. however, a few taz characters i can safely say i wholly despise: governor kalen (obvious reasons. the man makes my blood curdle.) lydia and edward (again, obvious reasons. i can appreciate their flair for the dramatic, but otherwise its just pure malice in my brain.) and upsy, your lifting friend (he makes me so miserably fucking uncomfortable i do not feel even slightly guilty about this.)