#(and I think the happiest ending that any of the chosen men get!)

[chiropteracupola]

Mr. Patrick Augustine Harper, horse trader and gentleman.

#em draws stuff #em is posting about sharpe #sharpe #patrick harper #SEE HIM LOOK AT HIM #writing this post while tired so. simply be looking at his cool purple coat and his cool gloves. Guyladfellow. #did not feel like drawing a whole horse so he Does get a hitching-post to stand with for the Symbolisms. #I remain obsessed with his book-canon middle name... splendiferous... #and also I am always so very pleased by the fact that he has what's pretty much a happy ending #(and I think the happiest ending that any of the chosen men get!) #living with ramona in ireland and doing dubiously legal Business :) (if anything happens to him in peril or challenge Do Not Tell Me) #(I Am Ignoring Those Two They Are Not Real To Me. Thanks muchly!)

[softguarnere]

Hey Dove!!!

Loved your first request so I had to send in my own 👹

As my name suggests, I’m a hoe for Eugene so anything, like literally any crumbs you have for him would be outstanding and I’d devour them. And/or something with Nix cause he just 😩 You can pick one or both, I’m fine with whatever! It can be relationship hcs or just regular ones like I said I’ll take anything 💀✋🏻

No rush at all! I look forward to seeing what you have for me 💞

Omg thank you so much, I'm glad that you liked it! I couldn't pick between Roe and Nix and wanted a challenge, so here are some headcanons for both 😌

Dating Eugene Roe would include . . .

OMG, the sweetest boy

I don't want to sound overdramatic by saying "love at first sight" but he definitely caught feelings for you the first time he saw you in Toccoa

Because he's kind of shy, he was unsure of making a move -- or even how he would go about doing so -- so when you're both chosen to be medics he's secretly a little freaked out inside because you get to spend more time together

He makes his move right before the D-Day jump, because he can't stand the thought of not having confessed his feelings if something happened to either of you

After his confession, he slowly becomes more comfortable around you. The men always talk about how quiet he's known for being, but when his shyness wears off around you, you know him better than anyone

Throughout the war, he's constantly checking in with you to make sure that you're okay. Because let's be real, the medics are always taking care of everyone, but who takes care of them? You both understand the toll it takes on someone to be a caretaker

In Bastogne, he always makes sure that you're warm. He'll share a blanket with you and teach you French and tell you stories about his life before the war while you watch the line

You casually mention that you never want to feel cold again when the war is over. It's something you say offhandedly in frustration one day while trying to find spare supplies, but he never forgets it.

As soon as you find out the war is over, he asks if you if you want to come to Louisiana with him, because you're not likely to get cold that far south

And when you agree, he feels like the happiest man alive

Dating Lewis Nixon would include . . .

Two words: Power Couple

Y'all are chaotic, but in the best way possible

Like, you would have so much fun together, are you kidding me?

When you have a weekend pass, you put it to good use. Pubs, restaurants, movies. Anywhere you can spend time together, you're there. And probably causing a little trouble along the way

As an officer, he tries so hard not to show you too much favoritism so that you don't get into trouble, but everyone knows that you're his favorite

He's an intelligence officer and it shows. He can read your body language so well that you sometimes feel like he knows you better than you know yourself. You could probably even just think a slightly negative thought and bam! He'd appear out of nowhere from miles away to comfort you

Sometimes, you're the only thing keeping him going. If he starts to falter, he thinks about winning the war to make the world a better place for the two of you to be together in it

And when the war is over? I hope you like to travel, because he wants to go everywhere

It's like having a weekend pass all the time. You have fun with it, but he feels like he's living the dream, because all those times that he told himself that he had to make it to the end of the war to spend the rest of forever with you finally paid off, and he's not going to waste a second of it

Thank you so much for the request! I was honestly so scared to share my writing at first, but everyone in this fandom is so sweet and I'm having a lot of fun here. I hope you liked these! 💖🕊️

#that gif of Nix in the sunglasses my beloved #band of brothers x reader #eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x reader #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers fanfic #my writing

[hebimoonlightwrites]

Well in that case, can i request nsfw headcanons for iori and yohei with fem s/o? tysm!! #hebi100special

Writer's corner: Hii! Of course you can! Congratulations for being the 10th request I got! *hugs* Unluckily you didn't get any special surprise, but don't worry! If those surprises will be appreciated enough, I promise I'll do one for you too!!♥ Hope you'll appreciate what I've written for now! If not, please let me know, so I can improve!~ enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW (MINORS, PLEASE, DO NOT INTERACT.)

⋆𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖⋆ 𝐈𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐢 (#𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐢𝟏𝟎𝟎𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥)

⋆Our dear Iori.. He was part of Yazuka.

⋆Even if we all see him being nice towards people, always happy, the happiest of all the team's leaders...

⋆Well..

⋆I know that in deep inside, he hides some unholy thoughts.

⋆He loves dominating his s/o.

⋆He loves hearing her begging for more, for satisfying her, for letting her moan.

⋆I think this is the best feeling he has ever lived.

⋆I can totally see him taking control of the situation.

⋆He'd be the one who'd decide what to do and when!

⋆That's why I can imagine him also being rougher than how his dear s/o would expect!

⋆"I told you to look at me!! Then do it!!", he'd probably quietly yell at her, holding her head by her chin.

⋆But since he'd be the leader, he'd be the one to choose everything, I can say that Iori would surely be also the one to decide when to bottom or not.

⋆Because yes.. I totally see him even bottoming but- you know..

⋆Even if he'd let her controlling everything, it does not mean that Iori would completely lose the lead.

⋆"I told you not to cum yet!!- Look at me-!! You must enjoy the show in its full, baby~!"

⋆But how would he start?

⋆You could ask: "But, Hebi! Could it be s/o to start it?"

⋆Well... I don't think so.

⋆Oh better- not every time.

⋆What I think I'm sure about is that Iori wouldn't deny the complete satisfaction to his baby-girl~

⋆"Oh.. You want it, huh?.. Well, then... Let's ride.. Show me what you can do, babe."

⋆"But Hebi! What about his behaviour? Do not be so general! Write more details!!"

⋆Ooooh- You want more? Alright~

⋆Just imagine him approaching his s/o, looking at her eyes and smirking, clearly horny.

⋆Iori would be supposed to work at Club CANDY, but seeing her with that tight dress, with her beautiful thighs wrapped in a short skirt, her body bewitching him just like the snake did to Eve..

⋆Well.. that would drive him mad. He'd completely lose his mind in front of her, closing the door of that empty room, exactly near to the main one, full of guests.

⋆Iori would block s/o, even if he knows that her intention is not to run away from him..

⋆Even if he knows that she's the one to demand for it.

⋆To want it so bad.

⋆Oh, pardon.. to want him so bad.

⋆That's how he'd start undressing her, biting her neck and caressing her body, moving his thumbs on her cute and pink nipples...

⋆Everything would be accompanied by Club CANDY's music in the background and some general noises from the main room of the club.

⋆But that stuff wouldn't ruin their magical moment.

⋆Even the idea of being surprised would excite them both more, especially Iori, who'd let the door unlocked in my opinion.

⋆"Look at me, I said!! ...Why are you crying?... 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭??~"

⋆Yohei has been part of Yakuza too.

⋆Now I understand why anon has chosen them both.

⋆Because it'd be more exciting with them, no doubt.

⋆"Omg, Hebi! What are you saying?!? I thought you were such a pure baby!!"

⋆Well yes, I am actually.. but if I have to write this kind of stuff with Yakuza or in general aggressive men, well..

⋆Guys, it's part of my job~ So let me do it~

⋆Yohei is typically seen as a changed man.

⋆He actually has changed a lot since his Yakuza team was disbanded.

⋆So he's generally seen as a calm man with a great faith.

⋆But just because he's a good man, it doesn't mean he musts be so even in bed.

⋆Uh-oh~

⋆I said it.

⋆Yohei has always given me the idea of a man who starts everything gently and romantically but ends the act being rough enough.

⋆Nothing boring, nor too agitated.

⋆A kind of trip to a shared destination: the pleasure~

⋆Although his being gentle, as I said, it wouldn't be boring with him.

⋆Yohei would do oral, no doubt about it.

⋆He'd do anything to satisfy his s/o.

⋆"You're delicious, babe...~", he'd lick his own lips finally looking at her eyes after being- uhm.. down there.

⋆Yohei would love discovering what his s/o tastes like.

⋆And I bet he'd think it'd be sweet enough for him~

⋆He's also the one who'd smoke after sex.

⋆Like.. imagine his s/o falling asleep, naked under the bed sheets.

⋆I totally can see Yohei looking towards her through the balcony's window, while he's smoking a cigarette, even running his fingers through his own sweat hair.

⋆Then he'd totally go to have a shower and, finally, go to sleep next to his s/o, hugging her.

⋆"But Hebi!! Has he already finished?! Tell us more!"

⋆Aw, fine! I wasn't about to end it up like this, dear! Here's some other headcanons I have about him in bed:

⋆I imagine Yohei working at the Bar 4/7. He'd totally be tired, 'cause.. I mean.. have you ever seen his routine?! He has a crazier routine than the one I have!!

⋆He works from 8:00 pm to 4:00 am every day!! This man is crazy!

⋆So imagine him coming back home without drinking something at a bar, as he usually does after exiting Bar 4/7.

⋆He'd come back home and find his s/o ready to make him relax~

⋆"Are you going to take advantage of the fact that I'm tired only to take control, babe? Heh!.. This is interesting actually~"

⋆So yeah. He'd be bottom in these cases. S/o would be the one to lead the game~

⋆She would tell him what to do, when and how.

⋆And Yohei would obey until he'd realize that he really enjoys that part of her~

⋆That's when tables would turn, and our dear Yohei would be the one to kiss her passionately, to demand for more, to run his fingers through those secret places of her body.

⋆He'd be ready to finally make her call his name, to moan in pleasure...

⋆To disobey.

⋆"Too boring for me, sweetheart. So sorry.. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬~"

©hebimoonlightwrites_tumblr Please, do not copy my contents nor repost it without my permission.

#paradox live #paralive #paradox live akyr #akan yatsura #akyr #iori suiseki #paradox live the cat's whiskers #the cat's whiskers #yohei kanbayashi #paralive mc #paradox live mc #paradox live headcanons #paradox live headcanon

[stormkpr]

Tagged by @frozenmemories1987 How many works do you have on ao3? 63 What's your total ao3 word count? 1.3 million What fandoms do you write for? My top fandoms are Shadow and Bone, The 100, and Spartacus What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Gift From Your Dominus (Spartacus)

How to Train Your Gladiator (Shadow and Bone)

Soft as Silk (Shadow and Bone)

Eternal Tethers (Spartacus)

I Am He That Aches With Love (Shadow and Bone)

Do you respond to comments? Almost always What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Most have happy endings, but Not Chosen followed canon and ended with sadness What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Pretty much everything else? Do you get hate on fics? Got one rude comment recently, but haven’t gotten any actual hate in about 15 years or so Do you write smut? Absolutely Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written? Rarely, but I have a soft spot for my X-men/Battlestar Galactica fic. Canonly-queer Bobby Drake and Felix Gaeta would make a wonderful couple! Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes though it’s been a long time Have you ever co written a fic? Twice and I loved it! What's your all time favourite ship? Probably Miller/Jackson (The 100) and Jesper/Wylan (Shadow and Bone) What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Believe it or not, I have finished every single WIP I’ve attempted. Call me The Closer What are your writing strengths? Plot. I love to write fics with an actual plot, love to balance multiple characters and think through their options What are your writing weaknesses? The need to slow down more and capture readers’ hearts Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I can’t First fandom you wrote for? X-men Favourite fic you've ever written? I am guessing that most writers have many favorites! I will always love my The 100 fic that features Mackson plus Sinclair, has a whopping 7 kudos, but I love it – Remaking the World Tagging @sparrowmoth, @tinyarmedtrex @moonshiningwolf @codenamefinlandia

#tag game #fanfiction #fanfic

[horizon-verizon]

Do you think Viserys was serious about his desire to disinherit Rhaenyra after the brothel incident? That Jaehaerys would have done so is a moot point. Jaehaerys would never have chosen a woman. I don't know why Viserys even invokes his name. I find it hard to believe Viserys thinks setting Rhaenyra aside will divide the realm. He knows his lords want his son on the throne. But then he repeats it to Daemon! And then he is all smiles with Rhaenyra at the wedding feast and openly calling her "the future queen." I don't know if we're meant to think Rhaenyra knew he wasn't serious or if the writers just neglected to address it again. I feel like there should have been some emotional fallout from Rhaenyra if she thought he truly did not want her to be his heir any longer.

*EDITED POST* (4/15/24)

Here is what I say about Viserys' and his decision to keep Rhaenyra as his heir.

I do not think he would have really disinherited her because that man-- while similar to Jaehaerys in having misogyny and treating his daughter as a political tool, ignoring her before naming her his heir and demanding her unquestioned obedience--still ends up hearing her opinions and following her suggestions in a way Jaehaerys absolutely would never, and I mean without there being harsh and self-defeating punishment. Both Jae and show!&book!Vizzy called private meetings w/their "wayward" and wayward daughters to keep the news of their actions in, but Viserys proves the former by listening to her (and what she forces him to recognize that he himself already suspected) about Otto in episode 4, and we do not see Rhaenyra actually "grounded" or have her items confiscated or anything while Saera was forced into becoming a septa-in-training for a bit after being forced to watch her father brutally kill someone.

We can go back to how J the First kills Braxton Beesbury in front of Saera, calls her a whore and abandons her, tries to get Alysanne to feel as she is the only/main one at fault for Saera's running away, wanting they rid of Daella and willing to marry her to just about anyone (Alysanne at least tried AND, again, tried to get Jaehaerys to be more involved), didn't train any of his daughters to participate in politics so that Alyssa, who wanted to be a warrior as well as a mother, ended up thinking only about providing Baelon with boys (not "child" but "male child"), did nothing for Gael, etc.

However:

Rhaenyra ran Dragonstone for almost 20 years

Viserys may have done not that much as he or Jaehaerys would have for a male heir (Baelon), but she also sat in councils since she was 8 at least, 7 if we count her cupbearing year

Viserys still allows Otto back. So we understand that his wishy-washy personality comes from him trying to please the lords (the affluent and influential Hightowers here) by overruling them and keeping a measure of political balance. Not to the extreme extent of canon Aenys I, who didn't go too hard trying to satisfy people, but like Aenys I, Viserys thinks that by complying with the wishes of the lords/men around him he will maintain his control. Not knowing he keeps giving it up

It's not that he thinks that removing Rhaenyra would divide the realm so much as: she's oldest; she is Aemma's daughter; and he feels that all that he has left -- also in his failure to be the masculine knight like his brother or leaving any sort of glorious legacy of his very own -- would be through Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra is also a person who was with him during his happiest times. Man doesn't know how to balance his priorities or even how to make it seem as if he is doing that. He's making excuses to himself similar to what he did with Otto and how Rhaenyra had to be the one to call him out.

As for using Jaehaerys' name, he is trying "discipline" her to get her to see him as the unquestioned authority and means of keeping their house together that he feels she is not acting like when she doesn't obey the patriarchal restrictions placed onto her. He is saying, "I could be so much worse (Jaehaerys I) and you wouldn't be heir without my leave. Why are you acting this way?!". Because he is a man, he doesn't get it and because he feels pressured to be what he thinks is a "good" king (coming after the heels of the celebrated, compliant Jaehaerys I).

And while show!Rhaenyra is definitely hurt by all his words, the fact that he won't hear her out and would take the lords' side against her, and the fact that he would even say those words...she isn't surprised it seemed to me. (Contrast to Alysanne and Jaehaerys over Saera.) Which is part of how she could tell him to focus on the thing he keeps getting away from: Otto's inappropriate and boundary-crossing behavior, using his own thoughts about what a king "should" do. There is emotional fallout, but it's contained so that she can "do what needs to be done" AND she knows that with his mindset, the "accusations", and his mood it won't pan out as he wants. Though, I do agree that I'd like to see more scenes of her anxiety shown through her actions....like the canon ring-turning that this show modified and gave to Young!Alicent through her skin-ripping.

Your question is a good question, so please don't take what I say next as a mark against you. It's actually a mark against the writers.

Questions like yours are exactly why the jump cuts were absurd and costly to the narrative. Because of them, were left with the feeling of emotional deprivation scenes that could provide more meaning and material that explain the characters' motivations but that are still dynamic and proactive. Without those scenes, it's harder to track moments where we'd go, "That's the moment of realization, or the turning point!" where relationships soured or shifted into a new dynamic and HOW! All of that is important.

But instead we got people making the craziest headcanons or having too many, sometimes contradictory, explanations for the littlest facial expression that could mean absolutely anything. While facial expressions can have impact, the second on context and situation to have that meaning, and if you expressions outnumbering the dialogue lines...... ugh. That's what happened to make and strengthen the HelaenaxAeomond ship.

And sometimes viewers are just genuinely trying to understand what's going on in terms of plot, and that's not what you want in your TV show!

Subtext is great...when the text is coherent and psychologically consistent.

#asoiaf asks to me #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys i #viserys and rhaenyra #rhaenyra and viserys #rhaenyra i #hotd comment #hotd characterization #viserys i's characterization #rhaenyra's characterization #character comparison #hotd critical #hotd #asoiaf

[rga531]

The Scar that Hurts

Summary, chapter 2/6: Fear controlled all those whom the Monster Princess reigned over. Her heel crushed any diamond that dared to shine as her. 'Friends' were a meaningless concept to her...

Word count: 1092

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That was one of the happiest days of the Fallavin kingdom: the great summer banquet. The palace would be open to chosen members of the population to celebrate another summer harvest and the country’s achievements. Tojava always looked forward for that, but this year she had a special reason.

The experimental farm that she helped to create used only free labor. The salaries were calculated by herself, and while the sponsors were skeptical of the wages she proposed, a bit above the market, the results were astounding. The productivity was much superior than other farms that used slave labor and the workers didn’t feel exhausted with the even distribution of resting pauses in their working hours. In the end, they were proud of working in there. They had to be invited to the banquet. Thus, Tojava would make peasants and nobles look eye to eye.

The astounding success of the experiment show to the entire world that they didn’t need slavery. She knew all the arguments for slavery, but none of them really made sense to her. Weren’t they all humans? Weren’t they in possession of the same emotions? Plus, her calculations said slavery was accepted because the model of labor was inefficient. They could import tools from Atlana to increase the productivity – she heard they developed a new plow that could make the work of eight men. She was even willing to go flying there, just to get one and bring it to Fallave!

She would make her own calculations on the extinction of mankind to be proved wrong!

How she looked forward to tell herself “I was wrong” and see a bright future to mankind, where all prejudice and misery would be gone. All that can think and love could be free to share with each other the blessings of an incredible future.

A future where her smile didn’t have to hang out from a fragile thread.

She held that smile while her attendants prepared her to the banquet. They dressed her in a beautiful white dress, decorated with white rings. A white orchid in her hairpin tied her long, blue hair in a bun; it was washed with the best shampoos they could offer, enhancing the silk-like quality of her hair. When Xavi placed the circlet, adorned with a single diamond in the center, her fabulous outfit was complete.

She looked at her reflection at the mirror with sorrow.

The smile that she fought so much to hold, fell like a rock in the ocean.

“Why the long face, your highness?” her retainer, Xavi, asked.

“Xavi, do you consider yourself a good person?”

“What a silly question, your highness. Of course I am. Aren’t we all? We pay our dues to the government and serve you. What else can we do to be good people?”

Tojava mulled over Xavi’s words. She knew she had been stealing jewelry from the coffer. She knew because she couldn’t sleep one night and heard steps. She could use her black-and-white flames to see things others couldn’t, including what lied behind walls; she “saw” her shape in the coffer, rummaging through it. After she left, she went to check the coffer; there were jewels missing from there.

“Uh, we know each other for years. You can call me by my first name.”

“As you wish, your highness.”

Did she hear what she said?

“You’re returning to your house country next month, right?”

“I couldn’t be happier…I mean, to see my family again. I’ll be betrothed to the son of a minister. My experience as your attendant will be useful. I need to appreciate your for approving the relieving of my duties.”

“It was the right thing to do, right?”

The robbery of the jewels was done in the day she approved her leave. She had been her friend, but why would she do that? It was something wrong, no matter how deep their friendship was. In fact, if she had requested some jewels, Tojava would happily oblige them. She thought of confronting her, asking her to do the right thing and return the jewels.

But, in reality, she didn’t know what she had to do. Stealing was wrong, but what would happen if she confronted her?

No, she didn’t want to confront her. She didn’t want to risk losing her friendship. It was one of the few friends she had, one of the few of her attendants that didn’t fear her.

If she opened exceptions, however…she would be contributing to humanity’s extinction, ultimately. Not a big push, just a microscopic one. It wouldn’t even make a difference in the grand scheme of things, but if she could, somehow, delay just a bit, just as small as the chances of the Atlana king phase through his throne…

“Right, Xavi?”

The girl turned to her attendant. Although she didn’t have forces to accuse Xavi of stealing, she tried to let the subtext speak for itself.

Xavi walked to her. Tojava was taller than her, but Xavi didn’t seem intimidated. Instead, she placed a hand on her shoulders.

“My dear princess Tojava,” Xavi had a smirk on her face, “You have to understand that we are always working hard. We are entitled to a few nice things, especially from who’s not going to miss them, right? It’ll work for the best in the end.”

“But…”

Tojava tried to raise her voice. Xavi, however, just lifted a finger.

“Ain’t I your friend?”

Tojava slowly nodded.

“Then let’s keep it between ourselves, right?”

Her gaze fled from hers.

The mention of the word “friend” made her hesitate so deeply. Xavi had to be treasured as a friend.

Xavi didn’t fear her. People like her were not just friends, but also people who could see her beyond her appearances.

Monster. Freak. Ogre. Aberration.

Words whispered behind her back that little birdies brought to her from times to times. Usually, in the worst time possible.

Her gaze already fled far enough.

“Good. That’s what friends are for. Enjoy the banquet, your highness.”

While she left, she accidentally knocked a vase of lotion that in a table nearby. The lotion spilled on the border of Tojava’s dress, leaving a light green spot. Xavi put a hand over her mouth, but when Tojava kneeled to crouch and restore the vase using her powers, Xavi just shrugged and left.

Tojava looked at her going away. She never asked when or why Xavi stopped fearing her.

Maybe, in that very day, after she presented the results in a grand speech, people will stop fear her.

#original work #genre: fantasy

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Do you think that there is a chance that Jon becomes king of the Free Folk, like the show kind of implied? (I assume it's a possibility especially if he manages to take the people out of Hardhome, as he did in the show) He is foreshadowed as king, and Sansa is foreshadowed to marry a king, not former king or lord or stay alone as the show had it. If Jon indeed gets the Gift, who will he rule over?

^Artistic recreation of the writing process behind the GOT series finale

Don’t quote me on this, but didn’t Kit Harrington say that Jon wasn’t going to the Wall to be King of the free folk, but as a member of the Night’s Watch, and the scene was just to parallel the opening scene of the show (never mind it would make more sense for his final scene to parallel the first scene of the Starks at Winterfell)? It’s hard to make sense of that ending. That aside, I don’t think Jon will be Freefolk king simply because there’s no need for the freefoIk to have one anymore:

"Are you a true king?" Jon asked suddenly.

"I've never had a crown on my head or sat my arse on a bloody throne, if that's what you're asking," Mance replied. "My birth is as low as a man's can get, no septon's ever smeared my head with oils, I don't own any castles, and my queen wears furs and amber, not silk and sapphires. I am my own champion, my own fool, and my own harpist. You don't become King-beyond-the-Wall because your father was. The free folk won't follow a name, and they don't care which brother was born first. They follow fighters. When I left the Shadow Tower there were five men making noises about how they might be the stuff of kings. Tormund was one, the Magnar another. The other three I slew, when they made it plain they'd sooner fight than follow."

"You can kill your enemies," Jon said bluntly, "but can you rule your friends? If we let your people pass, are you strong enough to make them keep the king's peace and obey the laws?"

"Whose laws? The laws of Winterfell and King's Landing?" Mance laughed. "When we want laws we'll make our own. You can keep your king's justice too, and your king's taxes. I'm offering you the horn, not our freedom. We will not kneel to you." —ASOS Jon X

The only times we hear of Kings Beyond the Wall, it’s as leader of a massive military alliance for a greater cause (to venture south, to defeat the Night King). Obviously after the War for the Dawn is over, there will be no need for a freefolk king. Consequently, Jon would not be chosen. Despite the show claiming he was happiest there, he is a son of the North, and was not truly part of the free folk. We didn’t spend interminable chapters of him counting beets and negotiating diplomatic alliances to become essentially the antithesis of that, considering the Free Folk King ruled through shows of personal strength and not through organized laws or diplomacy.

If Jon indeed gets the Gift, who would he rule over?: Whoever agrees to settle in the Gift and live by its laws. There are villages and holdfasts, and if the free folk won’t raid them, they’ll get their population back. Stannis’ idea to settle the Gift with free folk is solid, but obviously only if they agree to live with the northerners. Sansa is foreshadowed to marry a king (or the dragon’s heir, or someone of Targaryen blood) and rule a castle, but as queen she’d have the ability to make the man she married (Jon) a king anyway (which was also sort of implied on the show, with the “the North lost their king” line), William and Mary style (two first cousins who married and ruled as joint monarchs of England, but it was Mary who was the daughter of the previous king). But Freefolk king is a different title from the Stark Kings, who get a large part of their power based on family lineage and diplomacy.

#ask #asoiaf speculation #asoiaf

[amarriageoftrueminds]

Now now, we all know how Bucky's been in love with Steve (and known about his feelings) his whole life, but what about Steve? I've always swayed towards the theory 'Steve's been in love with Bucky his whole life as well, he only realised after Bucky fell from the train', but what if Steve's known he's in love with Bucky since their Brooklyn days? That would shed an entirely different light on his interactions with Miss Nazis Hirer and the whole 'right partner' talk

Going by canon, I think there must've been either: a declaration of mutual feelings, or; the first foray into a sexual relationship in their late teens, because one of Bucky's trigger words was 'seventeen', and Steve said he felt like a 16 year old again when he heard Bucky's name.

What's interesting is, at that time, and especially in that place*, there wasn't the idea that gay sex acts made you gay, because there were loads of 'straight' men around (eg. sailors.) going with other men just for sex. This was pre pill, pre sex-before-marriage for most, especially for Catholics like Steve.

So it might be that Bucky and Steve were doing the do with each other looong before either of them came to the realisation that they were also, coincidentally, in love.

I agree that Bucky, simply because he's exposed to dating women more than Steve is, has more of an opportunity to Realise before Steve. He'd have the benefit of being able to contrast his experience of feelings with Steve, with his experience of feelings for others, leading him to a lightbulb moment.

And he'd cover this up (and keep up the pretense of believing both he and Steve are really straight) by going out with girls in the meantime; in a period-appropriate gentlemanly way, not bedding them. Also to protect him and Steve from any potentially dangerous accusations.

I don't see Steve as not knowing precisely that he is in love with Bucky; I think he knew before the events of CATFA started, and it was a big part of his motivation for wanting to go to war.

But I do think it hadn't occurred to Steve that he might only be attracted to Bucky / men until after he got serum -- because, before then, his health would've been a limiting factor.

Before then, I can see him thinking 'well it's no wonder I have no libido like Bucky does around women, I'm just too unwell!' and not connecting the dots.

This would explain why he seems so panicked when sexual situations arise with women, after the serum; because he's realising 'oh shit! actually, I don't even like this when I have Perfect Health!' and hastily trying to backpedal himself out of an unwanted situation.

My HC is both of them thinking they're the only male-attracted one in the relationship and they're just engaging in sex acts together for convenience' sake but the other one's only going to keep doing it until he can get a girl.

So when Steve shows up all heterosexual-passing, looking like he can get any girl he wants, Bucky looks devastated because he thinks that signals the end of his physical (in his head unrequited romantic) relationship with Steve.

(But then between Peggy showing up and he and Steve going to the Continent together with the Howlies, Bucky mysteriously seems to perk up!)

By which point Steve, with his strong moral instincts and anti-Fascism, has come to the conclusion that if he's a physically perfect man, and he's still in love with and attracted to Bucky, then there must by definition be nothing wrong with feeling physically attracted to Bucky.

IDK if it makes it better or worse to imagine that they finally confessed to each other before the fall?

Maybe it'd be nice if they saved that for Post-WS, especially since Bucky might be then in even more doubt as to Steve's feelings for him. It's a common choice in fic for a reason!

There are two ways to read the 'right partner' talk Steve has with Peggy.

One is:

Steve's a straight man acting like an incel and attempting to pull pick-up artist tricks on Peggy which don't work, because she's not interested in him, and so doesn't take the bait (we only don't notice he's being a creep because Cevans and HA play it as benign, and because the writers, being themselves douchebags, don't realise what they've written; and probably wouldn't care even if they did.)

Two is: (particularly egregious if you flip the genders and imagine a woman saying this to a man) 

Steve going out of his way to make it clear that he doesn't want to date, isn't interested in dating right now, while there's a war on, and finds women terrifying. 

And yet as soon as he's fuckable, Peggy pulls a 180 and starts claiming she always liked him as he was, despite the fact that her actions directly disprove this; she didn’t ask him out when she had the chance and the encouragement. 

Naturally, her arrogance leads her to the immediate assumption that if Steve is waiting for The One, then she must be the One to whom he was referring. 

The fact that his wording either means he’s already found the One and is waiting for them, OR that he hasn’t met them yet, both exclude her from the running (since he’s known her a week) is...  immaterial. She never asks if he has his eye on someone, does she? Would Steve being already married stop her? 

(You don’t say ‘I don’t want to date because I’m waiting for the One’ to the person who IS the One, or whom you suspect may be the One. This ain’t rocket science!) 

And hey, did you notice, that Peggy is just so important and special and perfect that her sudden interest in Steve means that Steve's stated wishes are now irrelevant? 

The staggering hubris of waltzing up to him to go ‘hey, by the way, one day... when all this is over... I will allow you to date me.’ 😘😌 

Too bad he didn’t ask! 

The fact that Steve explicitly told her he isn't interested in dating and didn’t specify he’d be interested in her is invalidated by his new looks and her desire. 

Sheesh. These Carter girls sure are rapey as hell.

(Also, in characteristic NOT-A-FEMINIST Peggy Style, the first thing she does upon seeing Big Steve is yank a t shirt out of the hands of a waiting nurse, because Saint Poppins is apparently so good at everything without training or experience that she can do nursing better than an actual nurse, too? (Could be she's also being characteristically territorial, pissing a circle round her chosen prey.) While simultaneously, out of nowhere, affecting a  dumb ‘oh I’m so soft-and-feminine’ voice she didn’t have before?? Does that sounds like someone Steve ‘son of a nurse’ Rogers would admire? UGH.)

The irony of all this is ^ you can read Steve as 100% gay and not have to change a single piece of his characterisation or interactions with women at any point.

I've touched on this in other asks, but:

He never asks Peggy out when he has the opportunity; only when he knows it's too late and he won't be expected to follow through (due to him being dead.)

He never makes a move on any of the chorus girls or his female fans (no matter what those creeps M&M claim). Or Private Lorraine. Or Nat. He has to be nagged to make one on Sharon (while Peggy's body's barely had time to cool, and looks fine about never seeing her again lol!) But he goes out of his way to befriend Sam, and waay out of his way to get Bucky back.

Throughout all his films he's consistently assaulted by women, even friends, and never looks happy about it; he also never looks upset when he's rejected or cut off from women love interests, or when he's able to dodge flirting (by, eg. jumping out of a frickin' plane!?)

It's 'his choice', in his own words.

He seems his happiest with women in platonic situations, and only sad about them when it's a question of a shirked duty, a bereavement, or him feeling he's let them down; eg. when Nat dies, when his mother dies, when he's unable to deliver a promised dance to Peggy, etc.

(But it makes people uncomfortable to address this since many of his fans are female.)

But even marrying a woman (albeit the most OOC choice it's physically possible for a Captain America to make, not to mention that it involves abandoning our-Bucky alone in the future). It doesn't preclude Steve from being gay, since lavender marriages were hella common (doubly so for famous gay men).

He could be gay and still in a relationship with Bucky, and married to Peggy. I mean, he's guaranteed a wife who'll spend most of the time away at work, able to use her connections to squash any inconvenient press; and unable to out him or Bucky without ruining her own prestige. Perfect!

Still makes EG Steve a douchebag tho. 😒

.

*we know they frequented north Brooklyn, because Steve said 'I know this neighborhood!' while the Brooklyn Bridge was in sight behind him; but, they got the street angle wrong, cuz they made it look like the BKB has a street which looks right at it, when in fact the street with that famous view is of the Manhattan Bridge. The places Steve describes being beat up; a parking lot, alleyway, and diner, are also all places you'd go while you're Out, rather than where you live. So IMO Steve and Bucky lived somewhere near DUMBO, but not so far east that their view was of the Manhattan Bridge; either Brooklyn Heights or Downtown. So that puts them right in the heart of Gay Brooklyn (as in, Truman Capote had a house there, because Walt Whitman wrote a famous poem about there; that level of gay), next to the Navy Yard and Sands Street (gay cruising central) and they also frequented gay cruising mecca Coney Island (big burlesque hot spot).

#mcu meta #antipeggy #toAyourQ #hey nonny #steve meta #bucky meta #p*ggy meta #anti st*ggy #endgame steve is a skrull #antiendgame #dat's me #bucky barnes #meta #mcu #yet each man queues the thing he loves

[mianavs]

half agony, half hope

“you pierce my soul. i am half agony, half hope.” - jane austen

Oikawa x f!reader, regency!au, angst, romance, hurt/comfort

for @sakeomi​’s the chosen one collab

a/n: fueled by my love for jane austen and a bridgerton binge. some regency/nobility jargon but nothing too fancy. hope you like it :)

a huuuuge thank you to @tetsunormous​ for taking the time to look this over. you’re a gem!

wc: 9k+

Peering out the small window of your family’s carriage, you couldn’t help but scowl at the ridiculously nice weather you were having en route back to the ton. The weather had also been lovely the day you left society which you took as an affirmation that you’d made the right decision in leaving. Now, you didn’t feel that same hopeful sentiment you did back then and had hoped lousy weather would delay your return, but it seemed that your luck with the weather had run out.

The sun shone brightly and was accompanied by the perfect amount of white fluffy clouds amidst a beautiful blue sky. There was a light breeze that kept your bonneted head cool enough to prevent beads of sweat from trailing down your brow, and you were also positive that Henry, your footman, was enjoying the mild weather outside on his box seat as he escorted you from your family’s country estate back to town.

You drew back the small curtain and leaned back onto your cushioned seat before picking up the stack of letters beside you and thumbing through them until you found the first of many unopened ones. Setting aside the others—all mostly from your father demanding your return—you examined all twelve letters that bore an unbroken turquoise seal and were addressed to you from Toru Oikawa. They all had a date scribbled on the bottom right corner, with the first one dating back to six months after you left town. You successfully fought off the urge to open the letters and piled them up with the others before putting them away in a wooden box—a present from your late mother.

 It was hard to believe that a year had passed since you begged your father to let you retire to the country after witnessing an immoral scene no respectable person should ever witness—let alone the fiancée of one of the perpetrators. Looking back, you could firmly say it wasn’t the shame that drove you to abandon society and your fiancé but the heart-wrenching agony you felt from seeing the man you loved with another woman.

While love matches were a rare thing between members of the aristocracy, you had truly believed yours to be one of them, and it all started from the moment you first beheld Toru.

It had been the annual debutante ball hosted by the monarchy, and you, along with a dozen other seventeen-year-old ladies, were making your debut into society. The ball was strictly for the aristocracy only, and, as a result, only members of the nobility were able to mingle with each other.

While on the surface, it was meant to start the matchmaking season by introducing the newest line-up of ladies to the ton’s eligible bachelors and their mothers, there were other activities taking place simultaneously. Racy affairs took place under a cover of darkness in hidden corners or outside in the gardens, and business deals of all sorts were struck up in gambling rooms between men as they dealt cards and downed glasses of brandy.

Of course, being the naïve debutante that you were, thoughts on the covert activities taking place were beyond you. All you could think about was keeping your head held high, back straight, and minding your step as you walked to the dais where the royal family sat, to not trip over the hem of your new silk ball gown.

After a satisfactory curtsy and subtle nods from the King and Queen, you took your place next to your father, the Count. The butterflies in your stomach settled as you watched the debutantes with better curtsies, looks, and family backgrounds get asked to dance by eligible young men. After a couple of songs, apprehension ate away at your calm demeanor as you wondered if standing at the sidelines in the balls to come would be your fate. Beside you, the Count shifted uncomfortably, and you took notice of his knitted brows as he scanned the room for someone before excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Just when you’d resigned yourself to a dance-less evening and twiddled with your dance card, a pair of black boots stood before you and captured your attention. You looked up to find yourself face to face with the man that would become your fiancé—Toru Oikawa, the Duke of Seijoh.

He was everything a young man should’ve been and more. He was effortlessly charming and handsome with his velvety brown eyes that remained fixed on you throughout that evening, tousled brown locks that added to his boyish looks, and a roguish smile that never failed to take your breath away.

Toru remained by your side that entire evening. The two of you spent half of the evening dancing and the other half talking about your interests and hobbies. It didn’t take much for an innocent girl like you to fall for the first man that spared you any attention, so by the end of the evening, when Toru placed a gentle kiss on your gloved hand, you were already half in love with the man.

Toru spent a considerable amount of time wooing you during those two months prior to your engagement in your defense. He called upon your home at least three times a week, during which the two of you split your time in your drawing room conversing over tea, admiring your estate’s gardens, or promenading through the town.

It was during those times that you realized just how popular your suitor was simply from the jealous stares that ladies would send your way. At first, it was easy to ignore them, but as time went on and they grew bolder in their actions, you often found yourself biting back tears during assemblies or rejecting tea invitations to avoid subjecting yourself to their snipes.

While being the object of the Duke of Seijoh’s interest did ostracize you from the other ladies, you found that it was worth it as long as Toru’s charming smiles and warm words continued to fill your dull life with love. That was the belief you held onto up until that fateful morning when Toru arrived with flowers and an engagement ring before getting down on one knee. Besides your initial meeting at the debutante ball, the day of your engagement was the happiest day of your life, made even more special by one of the Count’s rare smiles and an albeit awkward embrace.

Unlike the fantasy you had already concocted in your mind, the reality of your engagement was disheartening to say the least. Toru stopped visiting your home altogether and avoided you at balls and other social events. While you hid away in corners, sipped on a glass of port, and made-up excuses for him, Toru fluttered about the assembly rooms chattering away with friends and dancing with ladies that never failed to mock you afterwards.

During those rare occasions when he graced you with his presence, any complaints you took up with Toru were shot down as petty jealousy. His smile would disappear from his handsome face, and his eyebrows would knit together as if you were submitting him to a torture session by just speaking with him.

“What other proof of my love do you need?” He would ask and raise your ring-clad hand for effect. “You will be my duchess and the mother of my children. That is all that should matter to you.”

You spent the majority of the fall and winter seasons planning for your wedding with only the guidance of the Marchioness of Niiyama. She had been widowed at the young age of twenty and had inherited her husband’s title, but above all, she was Toru’s childhood friend. While you found the Marchioness witty and extremely helpful when it came to wedding planning and understanding Toru, you found yourself missing your deceased mother more than ever and wondered what sort of advice she would give regarding your relationship.

The only time you saw Toru was during the Christmas celebrations and official events where the two of you were expected to attend as a couple. Other than that, you didn’t see or hear from your fiancé and spent your days wondering what went wrong while ignoring the conclusion you came to every time.

Those thoughts would continue to plague your mind until the last ball of the spring season when you decided to take a stroll in the gardens only to find Toru and the person that had been your confidante over the last couple of months—the Marchioness. Her long willowy arms were wrapped around Toru’s frame with her gloved fingers tangled in his brown locks as the two shared a lover’s kiss.

The sight was like falling into frigid waters. A numbness washed over, and you stood frozen in place while the air around you thickened until you couldn’t breathe. There was a disconnect between your body that remained still and your mind that was full of screaming thoughts demanding you move, confront them, or leave the premises altogether. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with the marchioness that the spell you were under broke, and you fled the scene with hot tears stinging your eyes.

That night was the first time you cried in front of your father since the death of your mother. It was also the first time you personally asked him for anything and, to your surprise, he acquiesced.

For the remainder of that night, the house was abuzz in preparation for your departure at dawn. You also didn’t sleep a wink that night and instead gathered all of the letters, dresses, bonnets, and gloves Toru sent and tossed them into the fire. With swollen eyes and still in your ball gown, you sat in front of the fire and watched the items you once treasured burn until the flames died out and only ashes were left.

In the end, you left for your family’s country estate before the rays of the sun peeked over the horizon but not before taking off the ring on your left hand’s fourth finger and leaving it on the windowsill of your bedchamber.

“Apologies for the delay, my lady, but we’ll be arriving in the evening.” Henry called out to you from his seat at the front.

“Thank you for letting me know, Henry.” You replied and continued to flip through the documents you’d prepared prior to leaving your country estate.

When your sorrow turned into indignation, you decided to do everything in your power to put an end to your engagement. What started as a simple letter asking your father to end things with Toru on your behalf snowballed into endless hours of research and lessons on all matters relating to your family’s properties, business ventures, and finances. The catalyst? Your father’s curt reply explaining the details of your engagement contract.

The engagement also includes a business deal the duke struck up with me that will save us from ruin. It cannot be broken off simply because you’ve fallen out of love with him. Stop this nonsense and come home immediately.

Your Father,

Now a year later, you returned with a vast amount of knowledge on your family’s businesses and the large debt accumulated from decades of bad business moves. It was a sheer miracle your family hadn’t lost your properties yet, and it was easy to see why your father had readily agreed to an engagement with someone as powerful as Toru Oikawa.

He had offered your father enough money to settle your family’s debts and then some to invest back into Seijoh’s multiple businesses. While it was a fair enough deal on the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder why Toru had chosen you. If it was purely to find a wife and gain a life-long investor, there were plenty of other families in dire situations with daughters of marriageable age that would’ve fit the bill. Whatever his reasoning, you made it your mission to find out during your inevitable encounter with him.

The tired whinny of the horses woke you from your slumber to an almost pitch-black carriage. Henry rustled outside while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and straightened your bonnet. The door opened a moment later, and your footman greeted you with a weary smile and an extended hand.

“Welcome home, my lady.”

You took his hand and stepped down in front of your family’s estate, illuminated for the night. Although smaller than your family’s country estate, the imposing white stone building had been your family’s ancestral seat for generations and held memories that you either held near and dear to your heart or buried in the darkest corners of your mind.

“Rest well, Henry.” You said and gave your footman a small smile. “You’ve worked hard.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Henry replied with a low bow before returning to the carriage.

Turning to face your home, the front doors opened, and a blanket of light from home illuminated the pathway before you. Almost immediately, a flurry of maids exited the building and made their way to you, wearing sheepish looks and emitting a cacophony of apologies for not greeting you properly. Walking into your home surrounded by bustling maids and butlers carrying your luggage, you took a deep breath and braced yourself for the mess that awaited you.

While a year ago, the sight of hundreds of lilacs would have brought tears of joy to your eyes, the pungent fragrance of your favorite flower that filled your bedroom made you nauseous the longer you remained. You raised a handkerchief to your face and picked up one of the dozens of turquoise name cards attached to the bouquets that, sure enough, had Toru Oikawa printed in gold.

Crumpling the name card, you turned to your maids. “Get these out of my sight. The smell is making me ill.”

The maids exchanged a confused look before one of them spoke up. “But, my lady, His Grace delivered these himself—”

“I’m well aware of that fact,” you replied, tossing the crumpled name card onto a bouquet. “But I still want them taken out immediately.”

“Y-yes, my lady, right away!”

As the maids went to work, a knock on the door caught your attention, and you found the head butler standing at the door. The sight was one you were accustomed to and, wordlessly, you approached the elder man already knowing what he’d say.

“Greetings, my lady. I hope your trip wasn’t too tiring.” He said with a slight bow

“I’m assuming father wants to see me?” You replied curtly.

“Yes, Lord L/N is waiting for you in his study. Please, allow me to escort you there.”

“There is no need for that. I will see myself there.” Noticing the weary look on his wrinkled face, you softened your tone. “You may retire for the night.”

After dismissing the butler and removing your travel coat and bonnet, you made your way to your father’s study on the other side of the manor. Standing outside the study, you straightened your dress and took a deep breath before knocking once on the large mahogany door.

“Come in,” a low voice rumbled from the other side, and you opened the double doors to reunite with your father.

The Count sat at a table instead of his desk and upon closer inspection, you noticed the array of pastries accompanied by a teapot and two cups. The refreshments caught you off guard, and you stood awkwardly trying to process the situation that was unlike any of the other meetings with your father.

While you were sure some fathers excessively doted on their daughters, the Count wasn’t one of them and only grew more distant after the death of your mother. He either remained locked away in his study or went on business trips. Family dinners happened only once a month, and even then, they were stiff affairs with him asking about your education and you replying with short answers. The only semblance of affection from him came in the form of gifts with short notes delivered to you by the head butler. It was in those notes that your father would awkwardly convey his affection by congratulating you on an academic achievement or wishing you a happy birthday.

“Sit, Y/N,” the Count stated gesturing to the chair across from him. “I had them prepare this fresh for your arrival.”

“Thank you,” you replied and took a seat, settling your hands on your lap.

The Count took a sip from his cup, and when you didn’t partake of the food, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Must you make things so complicated from the get-go?”

Any fondness you felt at the sight of your father and the display he prepared for you dissipated the moment he uttered those disgruntled words.

“I apologize if my wanting of a respectful husband complicates things for you.”

Your thinly veiled anger was somewhat of a shock to your father, who had never been on the receiving end of it. He cleared his throat and replaced his surprise with a look of disapproval.

“Whatever happened a year ago, I am certain that Oikawa has thoroughly repented. He’s been visiting me over the past six months for news of you since you never replied to his letters. He even spent the entire day waiting for your return.”

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest while a harsh, derisive laugh ripped from your throat. “Yes, I’m sure the lucrative deal the two of you made had absolutely nothing to do with his visits. Tell me, father, how much more did he offer you?”

The Count averted his gaze and lightly shook his head. “You’ve changed so much I hardly recognize you. Was his transgression so great to turn you into this?”

“I doubt whatever I say will change your mind on the matter.” You replied coldly and took a bite from a cookie. “I just hope whatever he offered didn’t affect our agreement.”

He took another sip from his tea and fixed his gaze on you, his own face undecipherable. You steeled your resolve under his scrutiny and held your breath waiting for his answer.

“If you can find another alternative, be it via marriage or not, that will provide our family with the funds needed to get us back on our feet, I will do everything in my power to annul the engagement.”

You exhaled. “Thank y-”

“But you must receive him when he comes tomorrow,” the Count concluded, setting down his teacup.

You finished your cookie and stood up. “I already planned on it. Thank you for the dessert. I shall take my leave now.”

The Count nodded his approval and you sank into a curtsey before turning your heel and leaving your father’s study. Once outside, you leaned back against the large double doors, relishing your small victory against your father.

Despite being completely worn out from the trip, you tossed and turned in bed only managing a couple hours of sleep as thoughts of Toru filled your mind. While it was relatively easy to occupy your mind with other things during the day, he was a constant figure in your head at night that  always invaded your dreams.

Toru Oikawa still resided within your heart, whether you chose to admit it or not, and your father’s revelation of his visits during your time away proved it. It had been a fleeting sensation but your heart had wavered in that moment.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, you had already bathed, dressed, and sat on your room’s balcony nibbling on a plate of fruit. It was all you could stomach while you waited for Toru’s impending arrival.

“Would you like me to style your hair, my lady?” The outspoken maid from the day before inquired hesitantly.

Raising a hand to your hair, you considered her suggestion for a moment before deciding against it. A year ago, you would have spent all morning primping for Toru’s visit, but the situation was different now, and there was no need for elaborate hairstyles.

“That won’t be necessary.”

You’d just finished your breakfast when you heard the faint whinnies of a horse that only grew louder. Rising from your seat, you were able to make out a male figure on horseback wearing a navy-blue tailcoat that approached your home. As the gentleman drew closer, his wind-swept brown hair came to view, and that was all you needed to verify his identity.

You wrung the cloth napkin in your hands before dropping it on your plate. “It seems we have a visitor to greet.”

The reunion between you and Toru was one that you’d played out in your mind many times over the course of the year. You’d memorized impassioned speeches and even practiced storming out of the room, yet nothing could have prepared you for the torrent of emotions that washed over you the moment you stepped into the drawing room where Toru waited.

He was on his feet as soon as you entered, tugging on his silver waistcoat as his eyes swept over your form. It had only been a year yet Toru seemed to have aged five. While still handsome, his boyish looks were gone and replaced with a weariness beyond his twenty-three years. Instead of the air of confidence he once gave off, the Toru before you appeared hesitant and—dare you say it—ashamed.

It wasn’t until his brown eyes locked onto yours that a glimmer of the light that used to radiate within his orbs appeared, and you felt your legs tremble with every step you took. A ragged breath left his lips that broke into a hesitant smile before he took a step forward that turned into another until he was able to take you into his arms.

“My love,” he breathed into the crook of your neck. “You’re back.”

You couldn’t breathe or move, as he tightened his hold around you. All you could do was stand there and feel every shallow breath he took as his entire body trembled against yours. He held you with a desperation that made your chest tighten and throat close up.

“I-I thought I lost you, Y/N,” Toru murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to make it all up. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive and you’ll never regret giving me this second chance. Oh, my love, I’m so happy you’re back that-”

Every word he spoke was like a needle poking and prodding at you until the pain became too much and you broke free from the trance you were in. A snarl ripped through your throat and you pushed Toru away with all of your strength.

“Let. Go!”

He stumbled backwards, steadying himself with a chair, and looked back at you as if you’d struck him across the face instead of breaking free from his suffocating hold. For a moment, you almost felt guilty for rejecting him when you saw the distress in his eyes, but the memory of his betrayal resurfaced and anger took ahold of you once more.

“You’re gravely mistaken if you think I have forgiven you, Your Grace. You and the Marchioness have shamed me in the worst possible way and I refuse to submit myself to a life of misery by your side. If I am meeting you today, it is only to put an end to this engagement. I’m sure you and your lover can find another girl to fool.”

Your voice quivered and tears stung your eyes, but you kept your head held high as the words tumbled out of your mouth like water bursting from a dam.

The color drained from Toru’s face as he stared at you aghast. His mouth opened and closed a multitude of times before it settled into a thin line. He tore his eyes from you, running a hand through his hair before a defeated sigh escaped him.

“You didn’t read my letters, did you?” He asked, facing you once again with the gleam of unshed tears in his eyes.

Your throat constricted painfully but you answered him anyway. “No, I didn’t and I refuse to do so. I’ve had enough of your lies and false proclamations of love-”

“I do love you!”

Toru’s declaration came out hurried, ragged, and desperate. It reverberated off the walls of the drawing room and echoed in your ears eliciting a shallow gasp from your trembling lips.

“I fell in love with you over the course of our courtship.” He admitted, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. “It wasn’t what I expected. You...weren’t what I expected. Before I knew it, I found myself wanting to be by your side. You’re so beautiful, intelligent, and devoted and the moments I spent with you were the happiest I’d ever been in my entire life.”

“Why me?” You asked the question that had been on your mind for months, unable to wait any longer. “Why did you pick me?”

Toru’s shoulder’s drooped and dejection replaced desperation. “Your father’s title, your family name that is as old as the royal family itself, and your financial situation were all factors that singled you out as the best candidate.”

“Did…the Marchioness have any say in the matter?” Your voice was so quiet it wouldn’t have surprised you if he hadn’t heard it at all. There was a long silence and all you could hear was the drumming of your heart against your chest. Just when you were about to repeat the question, Toru spoke.

“She was the one that brought up your name.”

His words were like a slap to your face.

“Leave! At once! I cannot stand being in the same room with you.” You glared daggers at the man not caring if he was a duke and you the daughter of a mere count.

“Please allow me to explain the situation! It’s not what you think—”

“There is nothing to explain, Your Grace. Our relationship is over and if you don’t annul our engagement then I will find a way to do it myself.”

Your threat washed away the obstinacy in Toru’s eyes and a haunting hollow look glossed over them. His hand released the chair he’d been holding onto for the majority of your encounter, and he dragged his feet towards the door.

He surprised you by stopping beside you, and for a moment, you believed he would take you into his arms once again and beg you to forgive him. Only, he didn’t.

“Read the letters I sent you. They contain everything I’ve ever wanted to tell you. Only then will I agree to put an end to our engagement.”

His words haunted you throughout the day up until the evening when you sat at your desk and traced the turquoise seal on one of Toru’s letters. It would have been so easy to break the seals and read through the letters but the thought of falling prey to his pretty words stopped you.

The following morning, the plan to end your engagement and save your family from ruin started with a package from the investigator you hired back in the country. Within it you pulled out pages and pages of information on all of the families of the aristocracy. The reports included the names and ages of the members, the business endeavors of each of the families, and the properties they owned. Other details were also included like their financial status, list of acquaintances, and town gossip.

Over the course of a week, you were able to go through each report and compile a list of potential families you could strike up a deal with. The longer you delved into the background of every family on that list, the shorter said list became until one last name stood out amongst the rest—Kageyama.

According to the report, Viscount Kageyama had been successful in his business endeavors over the last couple of years and it was all thanks to his prodigal son. At the young age of twenty-one, Tobio Kageyama was racking up accomplishments left and right with no sign of slowing down. With a military background like his father, he was an excellent athlete and hunter and won almost all of the competitions he participated in. It was his eye for business ventures and investments, however, that caught your attention and made him a possible marriage candidate.

Over the past three years, he’d managed to turn his family’s failing businesses into prosperous ones and used those profits to invest in other groundbreaking ventures. That was the sort of advice you and your father needed to turn your debts into profits and it just so happened that Tobio wasn’t engaged to anyone.

You found that odd.

For a young man of his age with an acceptable family background and a natural talent for business to be without a fiancée was unheard of. The mothers of society would never let a man like him slip past their radars so you sought to find out why.

Rummaging through his family’s report, you searched for the list of acquaintances hoping to find a mutual one that might give you more information on him. Your eyes stopped on a last name that you’d recognized from an invitation to a tea party that would take place in two days’ time.

Turning away from the document, you called out to the outspoken maid that always seemed to be in the room when you needed her. “What is your name?”

“It is Akane, my lady.” She replied with a deep curtsey. “How can I be of service?”

You smiled, thoroughly pleased with how quick-witted she was. “Send word to the Yachi estate letting them know I will be attending Lady Hitoka’s tea party.”

Akane’s eyes flitted to the table then back to you before a small smile played on her lips. “Right away, my lady.”

Hitoka Yachi was somewhat of an outcast in polite society despite her caring and gentle personality. Her mother was an outspoken countess in her own right that had married for love and, and as a result, Hitoka was an heiress—something that was frowned upon by most. The two of you had bonded over the fact that you both had lost a parent at a young age; she had lost her father and you’d lost your mother.

Over the course of the year, you’d exchanged a letter here and there with Hitoka, and she’d been kind enough to reach out when you returned. While you initially hadn’t planned on attending social events until you’d broken your engagement, you figured rekindling your relationship with Hitoka while garnering information on her friend, Tobio, wouldn’t be too bad.

The day of the tea party, you dressed in a simple cotton dress with small flowers printed on the fabric and had Akane sweep your hair into a simple updo. Since the death of your mother, maids had come and gone under the head maid’s strict supervision, but none of them had stood out like Akane. You found her a smart and observant girl that worked as your eyes and ears around the estate. For that reason, you decided to keep her close and had her accompany you during your outing.

The Yachi’s manor was located in the outskirts of town and gave off the appearance of a large country home while less than an hour away from town. It was a beautiful home surrounded by gardens that, in the spring, bloomed exquisite flowers of all shapes, shades, and sizes.

You were escorted to the rose garden by one of the manor’s butlers where Hitoka and another young woman were already seated at a table filled to the edge with pastries, bite-sized sandwiches, fruits, and a porcelain teapot with matching cups and saucers.

“Y/N!” Hitoka exclaimed and leapt to feet and took your hands into hers. “Oh, it’s been far too long!”

“It’s nice to see you again, Hitoka,” you replied earnestly. “Thank you for your wonderful letters this past year. They were a great comfort to me.”

A pretty blush dusted her cheeks. “I’m glad my silly letters had such a wonderful effect.”

She drew you to the table where her other guest was standing by. Upon closer inspection, the young woman’s distinct black shining hair and stormy blue eyes triggered your memory and her name resurfaced just as Hitoka introduced you.

“Kiyoko, this Y/N L/N.” Hitoka said, gesturing to you. “Y/N, this is Kiyoko Sawamura.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kiyoko.”

“Likewise, Lady Y/N.” She replied, her voice quiet but firm.

The three of you took your seats and Hitoka took the lead in the conversation cluing you in on what they’d been discussing. You caught a couple of words here and there but your main focus was on the woman to your left.

Three years ago at her debut, Kiyoko Sawamura had been declared a diamond of the first water by the Queen herself and had caused quite a stir amongst all of the eligible bachelors at the time. As the only daughter of the Duke of Karasuno, not only was she stunningly gorgeous but she came from a noble family whose wealth and power surpassed even that of the Oikawa’s. Her engagement to Yuji Terushima, heir to the Marquess of Johzenji, had been the announcement of the year—at least until the annulment three months later.

Rumors ran rampant that summer over what had actually happened but they all lead back to a cheating scandal involving Yuji and a maid from his household. Of course, Kiyoko faced the brunt of the ordeal since Yuji fled society like a coward along with his maid who ended up pregnant with his child, but she never succumbed to the pressure and kept her head held high with the support of her family. The last piece of gossip you’d heard regarding Kiyoko was that she’d found love with the son of Baron Tanaka.

To say you admired the woman was an understatement; she was everything you wanted to be but never could. Where she had braved society, you had fled to the country for a year like a coward.

Hitoka’s cheery voice broke through your cloud of dark thoughts. “…he’s been trying to get Tobio to attend more social events for the past two years, and he finally succeeded! Tobio will be attending Viscount Udai’s ball this Saturday.”

“I told you if anyone would be able to convince him it would be Shoyo. After all, they are best friends whether they admit it or not,” Kiyoko replied before taking a sip of her tea.

“Tobio Kageyama will be attending a ball?” You muttered, mostly to yourself but Hitoka heard you and responded.

“Yes! Are you acquainted with him, Y/N?”

“No, I am not,” you admitted sheepishly and made up an excuse on the spot. “My father mentioned him the other day and spoke of his achievements.”

“He is very talented when it comes to making money, but I just wish he would let people see the other sides of him. He’s actually a kind person underneath his gruff exterior,” Hitoka lamented before changing the course of the conversation.

“Will you also be attending the ball with His Grace?”

You plastered a smile on your face and prayed it looked genuine. “I’m not sure if Toru will be able to attend but I certainly plan on it.”

Despite your relationship with Hitoka, the real reason behind your leave wasn’t something you disclosed to her or anyone else for that matter. You had already dealt with enough ridicule from being Toru’s slighted fiancée and had no desire to add more fuel to the fire by revealing the details behind his betrayal.

“He must be awfully busy these days. It’s been months since he has attended any large social gatherings.”

Your friend’s revelation was shocking to say the least, and the smile on your face faltered. Kiyoko’s sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on your face, but her scrutiny only lasted a second before it was gone.

“Ruling over a duchy is no easy feat. My father is very strict with my brother’s education.”

“Oh, how is Daichi these days? I saw Yui the other day at the modiste and…”

Hitoka’s chatter faded into the background and her revelation of Toru’s absence in society echoed in your head. You had expected Toru to take advantage of your absence to the fullest and yet he hadn’t. A single thought amidst the storm in your mind stood out amongst the rest, and your heart wavered.

Maybe he’s truly become a changed man.

And yet, the cursed image that had been branded in your mind returned and dashed away that hopeful thought, replacing it with a more cynical one.

Or maybe he’s just showing his devotion to his true love, the Marchioness.

For the remainder of the gathering, your mind continued to drift to and from the conversation until the refreshments were cleared and the sun began to set. After bidding the ladies farewell, you returned to your carriage with Akane following closely behind you.

“Akane, do we still have some of the tea leaves I brought with me from the country?”

“Yes, my lady. I daresay there is enough to give away.” Akane replied and you smiled before turning to face your perceptive maid and ally.

“Good. Have some packed and sent to Lady Hitoka and Lady Kiyoko.” You paused before adding, “and save some for yourself. You’ve earned it.”

While you could have easily waited until the Viscount’s ball to be introduced to Tobio, time was of the essence and you needed to set your plan in motion prior to meeting him. If everything went as planned and Tobio proved to be receptive to an agreement—be it one of marriage or not—then the ball would be the perfect place to present your terms and come to a verbal agreement.

With that in mind, you started drafting a letter to Tobio introducing yourself as Hitoka’s friend and provided him with a brief outline of what you wanted, offered, and how it would benefit him and his family. You reread the letter thrice and debated including the possibility of a marriage between the two of you. From what you’d gathered, Tobio Kageyama was a straightforward man that valued honesty, so you added it in while making it clear that it would be one of mutual respect. You knew it was risky sending a letter to a man who was no better than a stranger but it was a risk you were willing to take.

The couple of days prior to the ball you spent preoccupying your mind with business and family matters to steer your mind away from Tobio’s pending reply. It wasn’t until a day before the ball that Akane interrupted you to bring you your correspondence. There was a sealed letter and one short message that you picked up and read without a second thought.

 I will not ask to escort you to Viscount Udai’s ball as I do not deserve that honor. I only ask that you not deny me the first dance as your fiancé.

Yours,

Toru

 As much as you dreaded the idea of being in the same social function as Toru, let alone dancing with him, you had appearances to keep up and would have to permit it for propriety’s sake. You tried not to dwell too much on his intimate farewell address and shifted your gaze to the sealed letter, which upon closer inspection, had the Kageyama family crest pressed into the navy-blue wax. With trembling fingers, you broke the seal and unfolded the paper, ever eager to read its contents.

 Lady Y/N,

I was very surprised when I read your letter simply because I did not know who you were. Now that I am more familiar with you and your family, I am interested in your offer and would like to speak with you more at Viscount Udai’s gathering.

Until then,

Tobio Kageyama

 A sigh of relief left your lips. Your gamble had paid off and Tobio was considering your offer. If you played your cards right during your meeting then it would only be a matter of time before you would be free of Toru Oikawa while saving your family.

Your eyes stole a glance at Toru’s note. While you should have tossed the note into the fire, your fingers ran over the dry ink until they stopped at the word before his name. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took his note and placed it inside the wooden box that contained his other letters.

According to Akane, Viscount Udai’s ball was rumored to be the grandest event of the season and when you stepped out of your carriage with Henry’s help and peered up at the bustling and glowing manor, you found no fault in her statement.

The ballroom was brightly illuminated with chandeliers of glass. Curtains and elaborate tapestries of white and gold lined the walls. White flowers of all sorts hung from the ceilings, lined the doors, and wrapped around columns. The room was something out of a fairytale and the people that filled it had all dressed the part. Glancing around the room, you searched for a familiar face only to hear your name called.

“Y/N!”

Hitoka stood on the other side of the ballroom surrounded by Kiyoko and other gentlemen you didn’t recognize. One of the gentlemen turned his head in your direction and stopped when he saw you. Approaching the small party, your attention remained fixed on the man whose midnight blue eyes were glued to your face with an intensity that unnerved you.

Hitoka’s gloved hands reached out to yours and drew you into the circle of people. Now facing the gentleman, his gaze softened slightly before it shifted to Hitoka.

“Y/N, this is Tobio Kageyama. He’s the man I was telling you about the other day.”

Hitoka’s hand patted Tobio’s upper arm before addressing him. “Tobio, this is Y/N L/N. She’s the friend that just arrived from the country.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.” You replied demurely and sank into a curtsey.

“Likewise, my lady.” Tobio’s reply was stiff but his bow was even stiffer and earned him an elbow to the ribs from the shorter man beside him.

Introductions to the other two gentlemen were made and you learned that the shorter man next to Tobio was none other than Shoyo Hinata, a famous jockey and son of a Baron. The man with a roguish grin next to Kiyoko turned out to be her fiancée, Ryunosuke Tanaka.

At that moment, the musicians took their seats and readied their instruments while the room exploded with young men and women finding their partners for the first dance. Your eyes swept over the room in a cursory glance, and to your relief, Toru was nowhere to be found.

Kiyoko and her fiancée left to the dance floor first. They were soon followed by Shoyo and Hitoka but not before the former shot Tobio a pointed look and gestured over to you with a tilt of his head. You found the jockey’s not-so-subtle indication amusing but played off having seen anything. Tobio cleared his throat and you turned your head to face him.

“May I have this dance, my—”

“No, you may not.”

Toru’s voice rang out from behind you. It had a hard-edged quality to it that you’d never heard and sent shivers down your spine. Before you could turn around, his hands settled on your hip and hand. The intimacy of the gesture left you stunned and unable to reject him.

“My fiancée has already promised me her first dance.”

Toru’s warm breath tickled your exposed neck and set your face aflame. Tobio shifted his weight and the action garnered your attention. His brow was furrowed as his eyes searched yours for an explanation you couldn’t give him.

Still in your stupor, Toru drew you away to the dance floor. You opened your mouth to say something but the music started and the couples around you bowed and curtseyed in greeting before they began to move.

The muted chatter around you, the soft music in the background, and Toru’s eyes, darker than usual, drinking in your appearance left you speechless. He looked as handsome as ever in his black tailcoat, golden waistcoat, tousled chocolate brown locks, straight nose, and a pink inviting mouth. Completely mesmerized by him, any ill-will you bore him became non-existent. You drowned in his dangerous pools of brown that disarmed you and left you bare. His touch burned through the fabric of your dress and gloves, branding you with his hands.

It was like the first time you ever danced with him only it wasn’t. Where butterflies had once fluttered about in your stomach, waves of something now swirled within you and pooled at your core. It was terrifying and yet you wanted more. So when the piece came to an end and Toru’s ragged breath fanned on your face, you tilted your head hoping he would close the gap.

Except he didn’t. You didn’t let him because across the room was the face of the last person you wanted to see—the Marchioness.

Her face held no malice as she watched you but she looked almost relieved and it shook you to your core.

“My love.” Toru’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “W-what is it?”

You didn’t answer him. Your eyes remained fixed on the marchioness. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly before turning towards one of the doors. She took three steps before turning back to face you and then she continued until she disappeared from the ballroom.

Toru reached for your hand but you side-stepped him and dashed out of the room; your name blending in with the music and chatter the further you got.

The corridors were dimly lit compared to the ballroom but you could still make out the marchioness’s silhouette in the distance. Her pale face turned to you before walking further away and entering a room. You bounded down the hallway until you reached the room and found the marchioness standing before a large French window. The room was dark except for the moonlight that spilled in and illuminated the center of the room.

“Close the door.”

You hesitated before reaching for the double doors and pushing them until you heard a click. Turning around you found the marchioness already watching you. She was as beautiful as ever with her porcelain skin, golden curls styled fashionably, and rosebud mouth. Her cat-like eyes softened in a way you’d never seen before—not even when she pretended to be your friend and ally.

“Why did you appear before me? What do you want?”

“Technically you appeared before me. This is my home after all,” She replied, a hint of mirth in her voice.

You staggered back. “W-what do you mean?”

“I remarried and am now Viscountess Udai.”

“I-I don’t…why?” Your feet took you forward until you were an arm’s length away from her. “What about Toru? I saw you with him…the two of you…that day.”

She sighed and turned her head, fixing her eyes on the wooden desk beside her. “That is the reason I had you follow me here. It’s high time I confess my sins to you.”

Her eyes looked back at you and the whirlwind of emotions swirling in them left you stunned. In the months you got to know her you knew her to be a charming but cold woman, so seeing her so vulnerable shook you to your core.

“Since I was a girl, I had always envied Toru. He had two parents that adored him and did everything in their power to ensure his happiness. My parents were the exact opposite and sold me off to the highest bidder when I was just sixteen. My late husband was a beast of a man that was forty years my senior. He had poor health but an even worse temper and wouldn’t hesitate to beat me until I passed out from the pain. It was then that Toru lost his parents in an accident, and I started to use him to make myself feel better. I tried manipulating him into thinking I was the only person who could be by his side. That I could be his friend, lover, and family. It worked for a while but when Toru started drifting away from my hold…”

Her voice that had been growing thicker with emotion broke down. Sobs wracked from her body as she slipped off her black lace glove. Under the moonlight you could make out pale scars on the underside of her forearm.

“I started to hurt myself and that kept him by my side until he met you.”

Your chest tightened painfully and tears stung your eyes but you didn’t let them fall.

“He needed a wife to fulfil his mother’s wish and I picked you for him. I believed he would remain loyal to me, but I was wrong. Day by day, Toru fell more in love with you and left me behind. When he received your father’s blessing to officially propose, I was so desperate to hold on to him that I lied to him. I promised to let him go after your marriage if he neglected you during your engagement. But that night in the garden, he declared his unyielding love for you, and I did everything I could to kill that love.”

She wiped away her tears while you let yours fall. She took a couple of deep breaths whereas a ball lodged itself inside your throat and blocked the air.

“I dare not ask for forgiveness. I only ask that you not blame Toru for my sins.”

Unable to utter a word, you managed a solemn nod before turning your heel and leaving the room. The darkness of the corridor left you hollow, the noise from the ballroom rang painfully in your ears, and the air around you was stifling. Everything about the place was suffocating, so instead of returning to the ball, you rounded the corner and left.

Upon exiting your carriage, you ignored everyone and bounded up the stairs to your bedroom before locking the door and forbidding entry for anyone. Heaving from the exertion, you lunged for the wooden box on your nightstand and set it on your desk with a thud. After taking a seat, you lit a candlestick and took out the first of twelve letters.

With trembling hands, you finally broke the turquoise seal and unfolded the paper to read Toru’s side of the story.

After you read the letters once, you sobbed into your hands until the candlestick burned out. You reread them and cursed yourself for being so oblivious—so blind—to the pain in his heart. The third time, your heart swelled with affection for your father who did everything he could to ensure you would be happy with Toru prior to allowing the proposal to take place. The fourth time, you pulled out a piece of paper and wrote to Tobio rescinding your offer and offering your most sincere apologies. By the time you finished rereading the twelfth letter for the fifth time, the birds outside were chirping signaling dawn.

You stood up abruptly and glanced out the window to find the rose-colored light of the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon.

I have to see him.

After washing your face, you discarded your ball gown in favor of a simple cotton dress and a woolen shawl. You picked up the letter addressed to Tobio and opened the door.

Akane, who had evidently been sleeping at your door, tumbled backwards and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Oh! A-apologies, my lady, but I waited to see if you needed anything and…”

You crouched down and helped the girl up to her feet. “Thank you, Akane, for everything you do. You are my most treasured ally.”

Her caramel-colored eyes welled up with tears that she wiped away with her sleeve. “H-how can I help you, my lady?”

You handed her the letter. “Have this sent to the Kageyama estate as soon as possible. Also let my father know that I will not be cancelling my engagement.”

Akane’s eyes lingered on your coat and a smile played on her lips as she replied, “right away, my lady.”

Outside the confines of your home, you breathed in the cool morning air and bolted down the white stone steps, setting off for Toru’s estate. Trudging through the grass and kicking up the rocks of your front lawn, you were full of energy despite not having slept a wink. The negative emotions that had weighed you down since your engagement were lifted and all you could think about was Toru. You wanted to drink in the sight of him, touch his face, run your fingers through his hair, and wrap your arms around him never to let go.

Your front gate eventually came to view, but before that, the backside of a man standing near your family’s fountain appeared and your breath caught in your throat.

Tall, broad shoulders underneath a black coat, and wind-swept brown hair, you knew who it was before he turned around.

Toru’s velvet brown eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of you. He looked perfectly disheveled in his plain white shirt, unbuttoned, and exposing his chest, and grey trousers that looked like they’d seen better days. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer until he was in front of you.

“I-I had to see you,” he admitted. “You disappeared from the ball and—”

“She told me…what actually happened.”

His eyes widened. “I must tell you—”

You reached for his hands, not able to hold back any longer. “You already have.” You brushed your thumbs against his knuckles and felt his pulse quicken. “I read your letters…multiple times.”

“I’m sorry, truly,” he breathed.

“I know, and I’m sorry as well. I should’ve given you a chance to explain. I should’ve read them sooner.” You released his hands and stared into his eyes, lips trembling. “If I’m too late an—”

His mouth descended upon yours in a kiss that silenced the words on your tongue. His oh-so- soft lips felt like satin on yours and you melted into his arms that wrapped around you and drew you closer to him. The swirling heat in your core returned and you wrapped your arms around his back, eager to see where the sensation led you.

Toru broke away from the kiss first, leaning his forehead against yours and taking in shallow ragged breaths. A whine escaped your lips and the embarrassing noise set your cheeks aflame. Toru laughed and pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Patience, my love. We have the rest of our lives for this.” He assured you and drew you into a loving embrace.

His sweet words sounded like a promise to your ears and tears of joy prickled your eyes from simply imagining your future with Toru, the man you loved and had never stopped loving.

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #toru oikawa x reader #hq x reader #oikawa angst #chosen one event! #pb's collab event! #long af bc i changed the ending #and bc oikawa deserves 9k words #navs.hq

[loving-villanelle]

If villanelle chooses to die/ sacrifice herself for eve in the end that would literally be the most unsatisfactory ending imaginable

I don't like the idea of either of them dying. I want them both alive. But I also know this is Killing Eve and they don't do fan service, they stay "true to the characters" (whatever that even means anymore). I've said since before the season even began that I either want them both dead or both alive. It just doesn't feel right to me for there to be a world where one is living without the other in it. But having recognized the very real possibility that one of them may survive and one of them may not, I've actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. If it comes down to it and one of them has to die, I think it should be Eve and let me explain why.

This show has always been about female empowerment, right? Turning everything on it's head and showing that women can be just as complex as men and get shit done as well as or better than they can. It's a theme that's loudly been repeated by everyone associated with the show this season, especially in reference to the finale. We keep hearing they wanted it to be "glorious" and "empowering" etc.

If Villanelle were to die at the hands of an organization that broke her down and rebuilt her into the ruthless killing machine she is today, where is the empowerment in that? Where is the empowerment in Villanelle's demise coming at the hands of the people she has already been victim to her whole life? There is none. It would be a sad and tragic end to a sad and tragic story, one in which Villanelle was rarely an autonomous player. Villanelle never had a choice in any of this. She was chosen, groomed, and trained just like Pam is being targeted now. She has always been, for the most part, a victim of her circumstances.

However in Eve's case, she has ACTIVELY chosen to be a part of all of this. There has never been anything tying her to the Twelve other than her own desire to track them down and ultimately take them down. Not only that, but it has been made explicitly clear on more than one occasion that Eve is at peace with the downfall of the Twelve coming at the expense of her own life. So in Eve's case, should she die at the hands of the Twelve, that death would be an empowering one. That would be the story of a woman who chose her own destiny and risked it all for something that she truly believed in. She wasn't the victim of any game or circumstance, she chose to be there and chose to risk this because it's what she wanted or needed to do.

To reiterate, I don't want either of them to die. I am simply dealing with the reality of this possibility and if the show runners are to stick by their word (which we know better than to trust these people at this point, but I digress) the only death that would truly be empowering would be the death of the person who chose to be involved in this world, not the one whom this world was thrust upon.

But again, my ideal ending is either them riding off into the sunset or pulling a Thelma & Louise. Whatever it is, I'll be happiest if they do it together.

#villanelle #villaneve #killing eve #killing eve spoilers

[marvelship-oneshots]

ITALY (STONY)

AU where Steve and Tony fall in love one summer in Italy, inspired by this beautiful fan art made by @vindemiatrix-moonpies

Tony had been left at the altar. The wedding was organised down to the very last detail, everything already paid for by Tony. Everything was perfect, everyone was there. Everyone except the bride. Mary didn't show up. Nor called, or texted. She just disappeared. Tony found out later that night that she had ran away and eloped with her lover. She could have had a perfect life with no one less than the Tony Stark, but in the end she had chosen love. 'Plenty of fish in the sea' Tony had told himself, because it was true, every single lady, and some single lads, was willing to marry Tony. Who wasn't? Mary apparently. The problem was that Tony loved Mary. He really wanted to marry her, she was not just another strategic economic move. He really thought she was the love of his life. But he wasn't hers. This was not going to stop Tony from enjoying his 3-month-long honeymoon in the sweet Italy. Tony laid on his bed the tuxedo, hoping that it wouldn't be there once he came back, he probably had to leave a note to Pepper or Happy. He definitely didn't want to see that suit ever again. He jumped into the first sweatsuit he found in his closet and, without even bothering to take his suitcase, drove to the airport.

Steve was 18 when he decided that America was not his home. As soon as he was out of High School, he took the first plane for Barcelona and went backpacking through Europe. He had always known that, eventually, he had to come back, but then he found the perfect little fishermen's town in the south of Italy, a place that he could finally call home. It was true, what the stereotypes were all about. Italian were indeed nice and friendly and welcoming and when Steve was offered to work for the son of the nice old lady who was kind enough to give him a roof over his head when he got lost in a storm, he felt like he had found his place in the world. Steve hated bad weather, after all he didn't know any fisherman that didn't hate bad weather. But that storm, that storm was a miracle, it might have put him on the wrong road, but it sure showed him the right path. Little did Steve know that he would have to thank bad weather once again.

It took Tony three days to realize that staying in his luxurious hotel room,drinking scotch and snuggling with self loathing wasn't going to take him anywhere. Eventually, he had to get back on his feet. "Stark men are made of iron" his father would say. One morning, he set the alarm way earlier than his usual. It was a nice day outside, although he could feel in his bones that a storm was arriving. The Tony of just one day before would have taken that as a sign to stay in bed, but not the new Tony. He only had 3 months to spend in what in his opinion was the most beautiful country in the world. He had his fancy breakfast, got into a nice linen shirt and drove out of the parking lot of the hotel with the beautiful red Ferrari he had rented for Maria. He drove to a nice little private beach, bought a straw hat because why not, and started walking on the shore, in search of a boat to rent. Tony eventually found one that he could rent and take out without any particular licence. Tony had never sailed a boat before, but he did drive some expensive cars, so he figured it wouldn't be that different, nor much more difficult. Also, he was a fast learner. Indeed, after listening to the renter explain how the boat worked, it wasn't that big of a deal for Tony. At least not until the big storm arrived. It started with the sky turning darker and the wind blowing harder. At that point, the waves were way too high and violent for Tony to come back. If he had had any experience sailing, he probably wouldn't have had any problem going back to the shore. But he didn't know how to face an angry sea and he panicked, which is something that every fisherman would tell you not to do.

The storm was finally over and Steve was walking on the shore, looking for possible damage caused by the storm. It was nothing out of the ordinary, storms happened in summer and that one wasn't any different. No boats were damaged, but he liked walking on the beach after the rain, the sand was humid and fresh and there was a nice breeze. He was collecting nice little seashells for his collection, he already had a handful, but he let them go as soon as he saw something laying on the sand, something that should not have been there. That something was Tony's unconscious body, dragged here by the waves. Steve needled by Tony's side trying to wake him up. He checked his vitals and looked for injuries that luckily were not present. He picked him up in bridal style and took him to his house. From there, he would decide whether he needed to go to the hospital or not.

Tony woke up in Steve's bed. He was feeling exhausted. There was a little ray of sunlight coming in from the window that was hitting him right on his face. Tony rolled over, trying to hide from the light, but fell on the floor with a loud thud. As he loudly growled, more from the frustration than for the pain, Steve ran in the room, as if he was standing right out of the door, which he was, kind of. "Hey, hey, do you hear me?" Steve asked in Italian. Tony was not sure if he understood him, but he could hear a thick American accent in his voice. Truth was, that, no matter how long Steve had been living in Italy, he could not produce an authentic Italian accent, although he knew the language like his own. "Water" Tony mumbled, closing his eyes. Steve ran away and came back with a glass of water. "Here" Tony took the glass with both hands, eagerly drinking it. "Do you know where you are?" Tony shook his head. "Do you know who you are?" Tony nodded "Anthony...Tony" Steve held out his hand. "Very nice to meet you Tony. I'm Steve" Tony shook his hand. "How are you feeling?" Tony nodded. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" "N-no I'm fine" Tony replied nodding. "Ok, let's get you something to eat, ok?" Steve got up, holding his hand out for Tony, waiting for him to take it. Tony looked around while walking to the kitchen. Steve's house was extremely small, it was all on one floor and it consisted of the bedroom, a small kitchen and what Tony could only assume was the bathroom. Tony sat at the rather small table while Steve fixed him a plate of pasta salad and sat next to him. Once he finished eating, Tony got up and reached for the door. "I-I have to go" But before Steve could reply, Tony collapsed on the floor. "It's late and dark, I think it's best if you spend the night here"

Despite wanting to leave the very first second he was conscious again, he soon realised that the quiet little fishermen's town and Steve's company were all he needed. Steve would go to work in the morning, before sunrise and would be back just in time to have breakfast with Tony and they would spend the rest of the day together. It was nice for Tony not to think about Mary for a while. But the dream had to come to an end, eventually. Tony had obligations and a multi billion dollar company to run waiting for him in New York. It was the beginning of September, the days were shorter and the nights were chiller. But it also meant that the town was quieter. Almost every last remaining tourist was leaving. In town there were only the fishermen and their families. Even they were starting to go back to their winter houses because the kids were going to start school in a few days. Soon Steve would be among the last remaining people in the town, with some old ladies. To them, Steve was a saviour, taking care of their groceries and their errands. That could only mean that it was the end of summer and, despite being the saddest time of the year for the residents, it also meant that the happiest days of the summer vacation were coming up. Every single free moment there was, was used to organise a more memorable feast than the year before. And Tony helped. Well, he mostly founded the feast, anonymously. He hadn't told Steve, nor anybody else, who he really was, he figured that, if no one recognised him, he would be nice to live like any other normal person for once. What he didn't take into consideration was the possibility that he could become attached to a certain muscular blond man.

The last night of the feast was also Tony's last night in Italy. He had already begged Pepper for more time, but she couldn't give him any more. There was live music and fresh seafood for everyone. Everyone was smiling, singing and dancing, celebrating the great summer they had. Tony was sitting at a table, a kid had just come to say goodbye. He was running out of time, and that little time he had, he wanted to spend it with Steve. "Steve" "Heeey Tony" He sounded slightly drunk. "I need to talk to you" Steve nodded and took his hand, walking him to the brickwork in front of the sea. "So, tell me" Steve was sitting facing the sea while Tony was facing the other way. "I'm leaving tomorrow" "I know" "I'm...not sure you know who I am" Steve looked at Tony. "You're Tony" "I am Tony Stark" "As in..." "Yes, as in Stark Industries" Steve sighed and looked back at the sea. "Ok" "Just ok?" Steve shook his shoulders. "Yeah, I don't care. It just explains how you could pay for everything" Tony giggled. "I don't want you to go, Tony" "Yeah, I don't want to go neither" Tony put his hand on Steve's. "Steve?" Steve hummed and slightly turned his head towards Tony. "Ithinkimfallingforyou" Steve giggled. "What?" Tony inhaled deeply. "I think I'm falling for you. Deep, like really deep" Steve smiled and caressed his hand. "I fell for you a long time ago, Tony" Steve turned to Tony, sitting astride the brick wall. He put a hand on Tony's cheek. "Can I kiss you?" Tony nodded, biting his lip. Steve put their lips together, pushing Tony back, making him lay on the wall and standing over him, while Tony threw his hands around Steve's neck. Tony mumbled. "What are we going to do?" Steve rolled his eyes "I don't know. We'll think about that tomorrow, now shut up and kiss me" Tony smiled, biting his lip again. Steve smiled and kissed Tony, trying to gain access to his mouth, that Tony kept denying. Steve bit Tony's lip and Tony gasped and Steve, catching the opportunity, slid his tongue into Tony's mouth, feeling Tony's body relax under his touch. Everything was going to be fine, the end of the summer meant the beginning of a life together.

#stony #steve rogers #stevetony #tonysteve #tony stark #italy #steve x tony #tony x steve #stevextony #tonyxsteve #fanart #stony fanart

[writing-in-april]

A Hope to go Home

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer’s POV and Vietnam war AU)

Summary: Spencer is drafted for the war and the only thing that helps him get through it is the letters he gets from Reader.

A/N: This is my second fic for my 1250 follower celebration!!! It’s also the third part for my Spencer Reid & Letters series based on this request by @90spumkin 😊 This was super fun to write cause of how much of a history nerd I am! It’s the first time I’ve done a full blown historical AU (besides the series I’ve got coming in the future) Thanks for reading hope y’all like it and requests are open!

Warnings: Talk of violence & Talk of war- this whole fic is kinda loosely based on the prison arc with Spencer, just with an obvious twist

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.6k

When October 28th was called out over the radio my heart dropped deep down into my stomach. I had been huddled next to the men that I worked with that were eligible. I remember distinctly thinking that there was no way that it could ever be me, if I didn’t fully acknowledge the possibility it would be easier to get through.

Then reality decided to slap me across the face.

Out of all the 27 million men that were eligible for the draft, why did I have to be part of the 2.2 million that got chosen?

None of the other men I worked with at the bureau had been called in, besides Anderson though I wasn’t very close with him. Most of them besides Me, Anderson, and Morgan were already too old to be eligible, I envied them immensely.

The looks on their faces told me all that I needed to know. They looked like they were already ready to start planning my funeral. I was glad I had at least been given the rest of the day off so I wouldn’t have to look at their somber faces anymore. At least I’d also get to go home to them early. It would probably be my last day off in a while, maybe ever.

Morgan and I had been pushing to get funding from our bosses for a new department, along with a few others, especially that old timer named Rossi. We had a few working names, chief among them the “Behavioral Science Unit”. Our idea was to create a unit in response to the uptick of violent crimes- especially serial offenders and help catch them by analyzing their behaviors. Most of the bureau thought we were a bunch of cooks, they still viewed our idea to use psychology to help catch criminals as a pseudoscience. I had even considered quitting my position a number of times because of the rampant disregard for people’s rights by the director, J. Edgar. Hoover, who’s questionable investigations caused my stomach to churn regularly.

But, we were getting close to getting that first pile of cash to help us fund a unit and I felt a need to see this project through. It was too important of a project to quit right when we were so close. Even though the actions of the government made me sick, I wanted to help from within, I wouldn’t quit. Though in light of my new circumstances I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see that pile of cash, let alone be able to name the unit. Maybe I’ll live to see what name they choose, if I get out of Vietnam alive. Though from what I had seen already from the people that came back injured beyond belief, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get out alive.

Even though I considered myself too weak to be a proper soldier that could be successful in combat, I didn't have any viable exception to the draft and I wasn’t brave enough to dodge. I cursed myself internally for not going for another PHD, I had heard it was rather easy to obtain a waiver if you were a student. However, I felt increasingly guilty for thinking that.

It was a well known fact that the richer you were, the easier it was to get a deferment. And, even though I wasn’t the most well off I still would have been able to afford to get another PHD when many couldn’t even think about getting a bachelors. Plus, I wasn’t even sure what we were supposed to be fighting for anyway. In the last world war there had been a reason. It seemed like no one knew the reason for this one. Was it worth it to see all these men perish? I guess it was for the Washington elite.

As I boarded to leave to a country so few knew anything about or cared to know anything about, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever come home again. The look on their face when I broke the news to them and their devastation when we had said what may be our last goodbye haunted me. They were smart, arguably just as smart as me, they knew I was most likely marching to my death. I hoped their devastation wouldn’t be the last thing I’d ever be able to remember of them while I bled out in a country I didn’t think we should be fighting against. I hoped I’d be able to come home.

—-

The only thing that was really keeping me going over here, where the sun was so hot I thought I would be incinerated to a crisp like those poor people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was my hope. Though maybe that was the fear of being bombed by my own country and brushed off as “necessary casualties” talking, all in an effort to put down an enemy most of us didn’t understand.

I waited impatiently under the burning sun tapping my foot repeatedly while someone next to me kept talking. Any other time and at any other place I would’ve been talking just as much as he had. When I first got here and the only person that I had connected with in basic training was almost immediately blown to smithereens. I decided that forming relationships here was futile. It was just easier to keep my head down and hope for home.

It had been quite a long time since I had gotten my last letter, specifically from them. Most of the letters I ended up getting were from them, my mom sent some on occasion but because of her fragile mental health I had told the staff where she was to not tell her where I had gone. My co workers had tried too, mostly at the beginning though when it was somewhat assured I’d still be alive. I think they had lost hope that I’d return, though some had obviously thought that was never going to happen, probably on account for my obviously unathletic stature.

My significant other had been the only one who seemed to hold out hope, even sometimes more than I could muster. That’s why every night I’d look over the letters they had sent me, to help replenish the hope that had been drained throughout the days.

It had been so long though, since I had received my last letter from them. A sense of dread filled the bottom of my stomach over the crippling fear of wondering if they had moved on. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, I stopped counting after a month. Had they stopped bothering to count too? Was it no longer worth it?

“Reid!” My last name was barked at me by the man in charge who I only bothered to learn the name of because I didn’t know I would have gotten in trouble. He barked again at me, “Letter for you!”

My heart caught up in my throat. I hoped the letter would be from them, if it was from anyone else I’m not sure it would bring me any happiness- at least it would be nothing compared to the happiness letters that they sent me made me feel, even if only for a moment.

I scooted off quickly with my letter in hand towards the barracks eager to tear into the letter. I hadn’t flipped over the envelope yet, wanting to wait to see who it was from by myself so I didn’t show emotion in front of the other soldiers. I plopped down on the cot assigned to me, though it was so thin it might as well have been a wooden board. My fingers shook as I tore into the envelope rabidly, I needed to see the words written in their hand. I didn’t know if I could handle this letter not being from them.

“Dear Spencer,”

As soon as I saw those words written in loopy cursive on a creased piece of paper I always felt slightly better. The letter was filled with sweet words and flowery language that most people would scoff at, but it meant the world to me. I wasn’t ok by any means and I didn’t know if I’d ever be fully ok again. But the words ‘Dear Spencer,” made me hope I’d one day go home again.

—

When that fateful day came, it was surreal. It wasn’t until I was back home on U.S soil that I had processed that I was finally going home.

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited to be reunited with them- the streets were crowded with many people. It had been the happiest sight I had been able to see in a long time, people reuniting with their loved ones.

I couldn’t find them in the sea of happiness around me, it made me worry. The last letter I had gotten from them had been a few months ago. I clutched it in my hand like I had clutched onto my hope. I wondered if it had been too long since I had been home.

“Spencer!” My name being called, my first name, not my last as I had become accustomed to overseas. Relief flooded through my veins that had only known anxiety, dread, and fear for so long. I knew who it was instantly and I knew it was time to come home. Maybe they’d let me name the unit now that I was home.

——

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Letters Series: (Group of Unlinked fics about Spencer and letters)

@whoreforthebau @sierraraeck @90spumkin

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader

[wildlittlefoxsworld]

Booker x Fem Reader Unlike your family you're not a soldier, more of the tech nerd of the group but that doesn't mean your some damsel in distress! It be good of your family to remember that so when you get kidnapped by people with a grudge, the kidnappers aren't the only one in for a surprise! Also if you could maybe add Angst 6,8 and Random 11,29,36 from the prompt list into the story if you can no pressure Thanks!❤

Badass wife | The Old Guard | Booker x Fem!Reader

Warnings: rape (but only mentioned), reader is kidnapped, torture (only mentioned), angst with happy ending

Words: 3k

Prompts:

-Angst

6. “Don’t you ever do this again.”

8. “Nobody’s seen you in days.”

-Random

11. “You’re insane.” “You love me.” “Not right now, I don’t.”

29. “How is my wife more badass than me?”

36. “That was kind of hot.”

Masterlist

***

If you were honest, you never enjoyed or loved being immortal. Of course, your immortal life had a lot of benefits. You couldn’t get ill, you were forever young and beautiful (that was what your husband said all the time to you), you spend the eternity with the love of your life. Sometimes it was very great, but sometimes you hated it. Your loved ones died a long time ago and you saw all the people in the world getting old, and you wanted that with your husband. Growing old, playing with your grandchildren, remembering a wonderful life.

But you had a family and currently you were the second youngest of your group. A few months ago Nile joined your little family and she was a former marine. Nile was a soldier, like the others in your group. You weren’t a soldier; you never learnt how to fight before you died for the first time. You were born in 1985 and during your time in school it emerged that you were a genius, primarily in mathematics and biology, but you focused your interest mainly in computers and other kind of this stuff later in high school. You made money with programming security and anti-virus software for companies to protect their data.

The first time you had died wasn’t something really special or spectacular, but you had died on smoke poisoning after a fire was breaking loose. You had woken up in the mortuary in the hospital and you couldn’t believe what happened. You had been disoriented and confused, so you just wrapped the white sheet tight around your body and searched for a way out of the hospital, because you wanted to go home. But you hadn’t come far… that was when you met Joe and Nicky for the time. Joe had explained you quickly that you had died, because of a fire in your house and they were there to help you. Nicky had wrapped you in his leather jacket and carried you in his arms, because your feet were bare.

That was six years ago in 2015 and you were now married with Booker for four years, these were the happiest in your life. Booker and you had become very close immediately and you couldn’t ask for a better man or husband. Booker was good with all the technical stuff, but you showed him skills that he only had dreamed off and fast you were responsible for finding persons or hacking any websites, searching for information and made sure that all the tech stuff ran smoothly. You felt sometimes like the fictional figure Ramsay from Fast and the Furious.

The time in your little cell gave you enough time to think about your life. You were here for three or four days now and your kidnappers thought you had find out information about their criminal business, and you had gave the info to the FBI, which was true, but the criminals couldn’t prove that. So they had water-boarded you already and now they were trying to starve you, so you would tell them what you did and what exactly you told the FBI.

You had a little worry that your family couldn’t find a way to rescue you or that it was very difficult to break in the building where they hold you hostage. You wore a little location transmitter under your skin, not only one, but four in different places. This was your first idea after you joined the team, because it would be easier for the team to track someone if one or more of you got kidnapped. You hoped the others already found you.

You were sitting on the floor with chains cuffed to your ankles and wrists when one of your kidnappers opened the door. It was Paul, the at least friendly one of the men, but he wasn’t very talkative. He checked the chains and brought a new bottle of water, but clearly no food. You didn’t eat something in the last seventy-six hours and you were very hungry, but you wouldn’t beg for food. You weren’t weak or easy to break, but your kidnappers didn’t know that and maybe your family members would rescue you in the next coming hours. You would definitely eat a cheeseburger and a large portion of fries.

“Do you want to tell me something, sweet girl?” Paul asked you with a gentle voice and little smile, but you only quirked an eyebrow and looked dumbfounded at him. Did he really think you would talk so fast? Andy had one rule; don’t say anything about their missions no matter what they would do to you. It was easy to follow the rule. Of course, you were afraid that they would water board you again. That wasn’t very pleasant, but they could do other things and you didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s very sad that you don’t want to talk with me and it’s impolite, too. You should show us more respect and answer a question when someone asked you.”

With two fingers he tipped your chin up, but you refused to look him in the eyes.

“No, I have nothing to tell you.”

“Well, that is bad… for you. My boss said that I have to make you talk and that I could do anything with you what I want. You have a pretty face, you know, I would really like to kiss your lips. But your body is more interesting, I ask myself what you hide under all your clothes. What do you think… can I take a look?"

That was the first time you gave him a glance and you were disgusted by the smug grin on his face.

“Fuck you,” you cursed and spit him in the face. Your spit landed on his cheek and mouth and brushed with his hand the wetness from his skin.

“Don’t you ever do this again!” he warned you with an angry voice and slapped you across the face, so that your head flew to the side. Your cheek burned where he hit you with the back of his hand, but you only turned your head slowly to him and grinned slightly. “That was your answer.”

His eyes were filled with rage now, because he had thought you were just a pretty little girl who he could threaten and you would sing like a bird. In the next moment he pressed his mouth hard on yours and his tongue tried to invade your mouth, but you bit him as hard as you can on the lip that you could taste blood in your mouth.

“You bit me, you little bitch. You will wish you were never born when I’m done with you.”

“I think it will be the opposite,” you considered and he shoot you a death glare. He came closer to you for a second time and you watched the blood dripping from his torn lip.

“You really want to be hurt, right?”

“No, but it seems you want to,” you replied and kicked your knee into his stomach. He gasped and fell backwards on his butt.  You didn’t get much time to put your plan into action. The chains around your ankles were tied to the ground, but the ones around your wrists were connected with a chain. You stood up fast to your feet, ignored the dizzy feeling in your head from sitting so long and wrapped the chain around his neck. You pulled tight to cut his air supply and he tried helplessly to inhale the much needed air. You used all of your strength to strangle him, because he started trying to put his fingers between the chain and his throat. You noticed how strong he was and he scratched the floor with his feet helplessly. You couldn’t give up now, you know there would other men come, but maybe he had any keys that you could use to free yourself from the shackles.

You felt how slowly his strength faded, but it did and you collected all of your strengths to pull the chain tighter. You thought it took you minutes until he gave fighting, but it was only a few more seconds until he went limp and you counted to sixty in your head to be sure he didn’t fake it.

 You searched in his pockets for any keys and you were successful. You thought why they were so stupid to give Paul the keys, but you thought that they weren’t smart enough to assume that you could have overpowered him. But you could only free yourself from the chains around your ankles, your hands were still in chains and you cursed that you couldn’t defend yourself properly. They weren’t very tight, you could have freed yourself earlier from them, but you would have to dislocate your thumb and break your hand in the process, and you weren’t brave enough to do it. Maybe you would find the keys somewhere else, you weren’t happy how the situation turned out, but at least you weren’t raped by Paul and you took Paul’s gun to your defense, then you walked on wobbly legs out of the little room. You didn’t know if there were any cameras, but you assumed they had a few, because you heart already shouting and appearing footsteps from down the long hallway where you stood now helplessly. You didn’t know where you were or how they got you here. Normally you weren’t active in any mission, you were the tech nerd and you stayed often with Nicky when he searched for the perfect position for his sniper rifle. But the last time you were with Nicky, he needed to change his position and you decided to stay in the first place he had chosen. You always had a gun with you and Andy had trained you, but you weren’t used to fight against so many men that had approached you after Nicky was gone. You were sure Nicky was crestfallen, because he left you there alone and Booker freaked out probably in the moment.

You thought about which way you should take and it would have been probably stupid if you would go into the direction from where the shouting was coming.

“She’s this way, boss,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you and your heart began to beat faster. That was your husband and the shouting was from the other criminal men, when the team had surprised them. You were glad that they finally came for your rescue and started running towards them.

“I hope they didn’t hurt her or I will them kill all over again,” Booker said maybe to Andy, because you didn’t know if all of them were in the building.

“She’s moving fast into our direction,” you heard him gasping shocked. In the next moment you ran around the corner and directly into his arms when he recognized you. Booker his arms around your body and you buried your face in the crook of his neck; you inhaled his familiar scent that helped you to calm your nerves slowly.

“Nobody’s seen you in days,” he joked chuckling in your ear and you laughed along with him. Of course, he had to make a stupid joke in the middle of a rescue mission. “I’m so happy that you are with me again.”

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Andy asked while she observed your surroundings. You looked up and she gave you short glance.

“I’m okay, but my hands are still chained.”

“How did you escape?” Booker asked and you quirked an eyebrow at him.

“The bad man wanted to touch me, so I killed him.”

“How?” – “I suffocated him with my chains.” I held my hands up in demonstration and Booker nodded in admiration.

“How is my wife more badass than me?” he said stunned.

“I trained her. Now let’s go!” Andy replied impatiently and let the direction to get out of the building.

The three of you ran down the hallway from Booker and Andy had come and you saw all the dead men on your way to the exit. You counted the corpse, twenty-four. You were still impressed, because you hadn’t often the opportunity to see the others in action. You saw a lot of flesh wounds that Andy had caused with her axe and the others had bullet holes from Booker’s guns. You hoped you would leave this building without meeting more of the men, but you didn’t come far when you heard again footsteps coming into your direction.

Andy gave a sign to slow down your tempo and you tightened your grip on the gun. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings in the moment, because you hated to be forced with the enemy. You felt tired, because you hadn’t eaten in days and you used the last bit of your strength to kill Paul. You were mostly pissed that they had you taken and they were still stupid enough to stand your in way to freedom. You were glad that you weren’t alone, because when you arrived in a great hall where they stored their stolen guns and drugs and all the other ware which they made profit with.

“I see you managed to escape. You killed one of my best man, you slut.” You knew the voice very well, it was Paul’s boss and he wasn’t happy about what you did to Paul. You saw his angry red face and the gun he pointed at you.

“I’m bulletproof… but please, don’t shoot me. I really hate the feeling of bullets in my body,” you answered him and he looked dumbfounded at you for a second.

“What are you talking about? Are you already gone mad? Well, I don’t care. You killed my man, so I’m going to kill your man, then the crazy axe lady and in the end I will torture until you beg me to stop and you will tell me your little secrets, and maybe then after every one of my men had their fun with you, I let you die.”

“You’re pathetic. You will pay for what you did to my wife!” Booker screamed and tried to push you behind, but you didn’t let him, you were too angry.

“You’re disgusting, Antonio. I make you a better offer: I will shoot your balls off and let you bleeding out like a pig, while you can watch how we kill the rest of your men and then we will blow up this whole building.”

You grinned like a mad woman when you aimed to shoot him between your legs and you didn’t hesitate a second until you heard the echo of your shooting. Antonio screamed in pain and felt down to the ground. You could shoot him again, but his men already began to fire in your direction and Booker pushed your forward, so you could get out of there finally. It took a lot of bullets and fighting until you were even near to the exit and then Joe came through the large door of the hall and shot two of them precisely in the head which left only two of them in the end.

A dark haired man fired a bullet into Booker’s leg and he winced in pain, but kept running. But you got so angry that they had the nerve to shoot your husband, when it was clearly that they were going to lose. You stopped and turned around to shoot them, but you were out of bullets.

“Fuck,” you cursed. That was definitely your favorite swear word. You used the handle of the gun to hit the dark haired man on the cheek and you heard the satisfying cracking of the bone. He tried to punch you, but you crouched down and tackled his body with yours, so you fell on the ground. The man had no time to react when you grabbed his head with both of your hands and smashed his head on the hard floor four times.  

Andy killed the other one with her axe while Booker pushed off the dead of the dead man and out of the building, and that was when you inhaled fresh air for the first time in nearly eighty hours.

“Are they all dead now?” Joe asked still aiming the door, but you couldn’t answer him, because you were pulled in tight hug from Nicky.

“Thank god, Y/N. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Nicky. Are you okay?”

Nicky watched me confused. “You’re asking me if I’m okay after you had been hold hostage for more than three days.”

“Ah yes, you seem very distressed.”

“You’re insane,” he mumbled when he kissed the top of my head.

“But you love me,” you replied laughing.

“Not right now, I don’t. You made me leave you alone there; I will never let you alone again.”

“Isn’t that my husband’s part?” You said still laughing when Booker hugged you from behind with his arms around your waist.

“He can share,” Nicky prompted snorting and both men cuddled you between them.

“Can we go home then?” Andy asked still impatient.

“Yes, boss,” all of you saluted and Andy rolled her eyes on you.

The ride home was silent. Joe and Andy switched on driving and you sat with Booker and Nicky in the backseat. Nicky was peacefully snoring beside you and you were cuddled up in Booker’s lap. When you got in the car earlier he had kissed all over of your face and then your mouth, he let you feel all his love for you.

“When Nicky had told us that they kidnapped you… I thought I would never see you again, but then I remembered how brilliant you were to get us the location transmitter last year and it was easy to find you, but to get in the building was so much harder. Please tell me, he didn’t get a chance to touch you? I can’t bear the thought that he might took you with force… I…”

“Shh, my heart. He didn’t touch me. I killed him before he got a chance. At least I was lucky enough to overpower him… don’t think about all the other possibilities how it could have ended. We are together again and that’s all what matters.”

“You’re right, sweetheart. I love you so much. Please, never leave me again.”

“How could I ever leave you, Sebastien. You are the love of my life and our life had only just begun. Wonderful five years, yes, but I hope it will be at least five hundred more.”

Booker chuckled at your words. “I will five thousand years at least, and more.”

Your lips found each other again and you know that as long as Booker was at your side, you would be never alone.

“I hope you can free me from this chains as soon as possible,” you told Joe and he only grinned at you.

“Don’t worry, we will make it when we’re at home. But are you sure you want to be free so soon? I can tell you that they’re perfectly for role games in the bedroom. Nicky and I had a lot with chains in the past.”

You looked back at Booker questionly. “Sounds like an interesting idea. You know when you hit and tackled the man down on the ground. That was kind of hot. It turned me really on.” The last words Booker whispered in your ear and you knew you wouldn’t leave the bed in the next days.

#the old guard #booker #booker le livre #sebastien le livre #booker x reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

i do ~ g eazy

word count: 1233

request?: yes

“Can you do a G-Eazy and Reader wedding imagine” 

description: the day of their wedding is the happiest day of both of their lives

pairing: g eazy x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

You watch in the mirror as your mother finished your makeup and pinned your vail in your hair. Your bridal party was smiling at you through the mirror, beaming at how beautiful you looked in your wedding dress.

Over a year ago, this date seemed forever away. You wanted nothing more than to just run away with Gerald and get married right away. It seemed like the day would never come. And now it was here, and you felt...nervous.

“It’s normal to be nervous on your wedding day, honey,” your mom assured you. “Once you start walking down the aisle, all that worry will go away.”

“I think it’ll just get worse,” you said. “I mean, everyone will be looking at me. Everyone, that’s so much pressure. What if I trip and fall? Or I mess up my vows or something?”

“Aren’t you guys just repeating the usual vows?” one of your friends asked.

You turned to glare at her. “Not the point, (Y/F/N).”

“Honey, you’ll be fine,” your mom assured you again. “Don’t think about it too much.”

She kissed the top of your head just as your dad entered, telling everyone it was time to get in their places. Your bride’s maids all lightly kissed your cheek (as to not smudge any makeup) before going to join Gerald’s groom’s men. Your dad smiled at you and offered you his arm. You smiled back and stood, shaking a little with nerves, before taking his arm and allowing him to lead you out of your room.

You and Gerald had decided to have a small wedding of just close family and friends, and decided to have it in your own backyard. Your house and yard was big enough to hold everyone, and you decided that the reception would be held at your favorite restaurant. Your backyard was set up with a flower arrangement as the aisle and a beautiful white arch over the end of the aisle.

You gripped your dad’s arm as the two of you positioned at the end of the aisle. He placed his hand gently on yours, causing you to look up at him.

“You’re going to be okay, honey,” he assured you.

You smiled at him, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from your face.

The music started to play and the guests rose from their seats. You began to walk down the aisle towards Gerald. All eyes were on you and you could feel your heart racing from it. Your eyes trailed the audience before landing on Gerald, who was watching you with so much love in his eyes.

It was as if the whole world around you disappeared, and the only person was Gerald. He was smiling at you with so much love in his eye. You couldn’t believe you were about to have this man for the rest of your life.

Your dad turned to you at the end of the aisle and kissed your forehead. “I’m so proud of you honey.”

You blinked away your tears as you smiled at your dad. You couldn’t cry yet, you couldn’t ruin your makeup right now.

You took your place next to Gerald at the alter. He lifted your veil, revealing your face. You saw the tears in his eyes as well and that’s when the tear ducts truly opened.

“Y’all can sit,” said one of Gerald’s friends, who you had chosen to officiate the ceremony. Your audience chuckled as they took their seats again. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love between (Y/F/N) and Gerald Gillum, because let me tell y’all, it’s about time these two confirmed their damn love.”

You felt your cheeks burn as you looked up at Gerald, who was laughing at the joke.

“Can we have the rings?” The ring bearer, the son of friend of yours, approached the three of you. Gerald took your ring first before taking your left hand in his. “Now, repeat after me; I, Gerald Gillum - “

“I, Gerald Gillum - ”

“ - take you, (Y/F/N) - ”

“ - take you, (Y/F/N) - ”

“ - to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor till death do us part.”

“ - to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, till death do us part.”

He slid the cold metal onto my finger. Almost immediately, the cold feeling warmed, almost as if the ring were meant to be there. You couldn’t help but smile at Gerald as you took his ring from the ring bearer.

“Now (Y/N), you repeat that same thing, I’m not walking you through that one.”

You giggled before positioning the ring on Gerald’s finger. “I, (Y/F/N), take you, Gerald Gillum, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, till death do us part.”

I slipped the ring onto Gerald’s finger, a perfect fit, like it was meant to be there.

“If there is anyone where that believes these two shouldn’t be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You were itching to get to the kiss. The pause seemed far too long, you just wanted to hurry everything along.

“By the power invested in me by a website online, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Gerald took hold of your face before the words were even out of your friend’s mouth. He brought your lips to his and kissed you deeply and passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. The applause from your guests sounded liked muffled noise as you got lost in one another.

You rested your forehead against Gerald’s, a wide smile on your face as you looked up at your husband. A word had never sounded so perfect; husband.

Everyone watched and cheered as Gerald took your arm and led you down the aisle towards the front of your house. Gerald had hired a limo to take the two of you out for a drive for about an hour before you went to get pictures taken with the bridal party. He held the door open for you as you slid in, trying to contain the poof of your wedding dress.

The sound of everyone calling out to you was muffled again as Gerald closed the door behind you and the driver began to drive away from your house. Set up inside the limo was bottles of champagne and glasses. Gerald took two glasses and filled them both up. He held his out to you and said, “To us, Mrs. Gillum.”

You couldn’t help the wide smile that broke out across your face. “To us, Mr. Gillum.”

You both took a mouthful of the champagne before Gerald wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you to kiss him again. “I love you so much, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, G. And I’ll love you forever.”

The smile that you loved more than anything broke out on Gerald’s face as he kissed you again, passionately.

You could get used to kissed him so much.

#gerald gillum #gerald gillum imagine #gerald gillum x reader #G Eazy #g eazy imagine #g eazy x reader #imagine #one shot #blurb #request

[chocoluckchipz]

The Other You - 2

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

His body heavy, eyes drooping closed, Adrien released his transformation and flopped on his bed face down. Who in the world thought that him running a fashion empire after spending all day teaching the principles of physics to teenagers was a good idea? Add in Chat Noir’s obligatory patrols, and you've got yourself a sleep-deprived, confused, and stressed disaster of a man. Yet, despite his exhaustion, Adrien’s lips stretched in a smile as soon as his head collided with a pillow.

“I’m so tempted to just sleep,” he whispered into the silence of his bedroom. “There’s always morning for changing clothes and grooming.”

“Do whatever you want,” Plagg puffed. “But I need disinfection. Seriously, you two need to get a room and preferably a kwami-free one. I didn’t sign up for this uncivilized, touchy-feely stuff. Can’t you just reveal identities and free me from being an involuntary participant in your grossly romantic endeavours?”

“If it were up to me, I would've done that a long time ago,” Adrien murmured. His shoes and clothes already on the floor, he crawled under the comforter, yawning. “But, you know just as well as I do that it isn't up to me, and Ladybug might actually be right about it being dangerous.”

“Hawkmoth hasn’t been active for years,” Plagg whined, finishing wiping himself with a sanitizing towelette and immediately heading straight for his stash of Camembert. “He’s probably dead already. Why do you still need to keep these masks on?”

“Hawkmoth not being active for a while isn’t proof that we’ll never see him again,” Adrien replied, wrapping himself around his pillow. “What if he’s just waiting for us to put our guard down to strike?”

“He isn’t that smart.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Adrien yawned again. “The man kept us on our toes for a decade. But even if, presumably, he’s out for good, this isn't the time to start a relationship still.”

“Why not?”

“Plagg, please,” Adrien mumbled, his eyes closed as he snuggled the pillow closer. “You know as well as I do that Ladybug is going through a rough period right now. Her job now demands all of her time and attention thanks to that jerk-boss that ditched them. Her relationship with her roommate—her best friend may I add—seems to worsen every time I hear about it. And have you even seen her? She’s lost weight and looks pale and tired all the time.” Adrien paused, opening his eyes. His chest tightened as he looked into the darkness of his bedroom. “Right now, Ladybug needs a friend who’ll support her, not another relationship to work on. And since I can’t help her with her civilian life, I’d be damned if I added to her problems.”

Adrien rolled over and pulled his comforter over his head. Ladybug needed a friend right now, not a boyfriend, and he loved her too much to add a romantic relationship to her already nearly unbearable pile. So until she got her promotion, he’d support her as a friend and would remain close for whenever she needed him. Once she reached her goal, though, that would change because then, Ladybug would actually have time and strength for a relationship with him. Otherwise, Adrien was afraid he was risking ruining everything before it even started. He’d already waited for her for years, he could certainly wait a little longer.  

“Whatever you say, lover boy,” Plagg murmured and started to settle in his little bed, turning and twisting until he found the perfect position. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Goodnight, Plagg,” Adrien replied, his thoughts racing back to his Lady and the effortless friendship they’d developed that tiptoed dangerously on the border of romance. It would come eventually. Adrien knew that, and when it did, he'd make his Lady the happiest girl in all of France. He'd never take her for granted. He'd always—

“Wipe that dopey smile off your face,” Plagg suddenly grumbled. “It’s creepy to grin like an idiot in the dark.”

“How do you even see what I am doing from your wastebasket all the way over there?”

“I don’t need to see it. I can feel it. Now, stop it and go to bed. You have tons of work tomorrow and just a few hours left to sleep.”

“Don’t remind me.” Adrien groaned, flopping on his back. “I should’ve sold my shares and been done with it.”

“Then why did you listen to that dude from your work? You should try it, Adrien,” Plagg mocked. “See for yourself before deciding on what to do: continue teaching or follow in your father’s footsteps. Nonsense, I tell you. You should’ve sold and invested in Camembert production, something useful for once.”

“Max isn't a dude,” Adrien chuckled. “He's a friend, and he has a point. I've spent my life hating the fashion industry only because of my father and his crazy obsession with his work. Maybe—”

“He kicked you out of the house because you followed your passion instead of whatever he wanted you to do.”

“He didn’t kick me out. I left.”

“Doesn’t matter. The point is, this fashion nonsense ruined your life. Why would you want to ‘try it out’?”

“My life isn’t ruined. And I think it’s smart to make sure I really do hate heading a fashion empire instead of simply projecting my failed relationship with my father on the whole industry.”

“A load of BS if you ask me.”

“What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s just for a few months. If I don’t like it by the end of the summer, I’m selling.”

“It’s May now—”

“Almost June.”

“Still May, meaning that there are more than a few months until the end of the summer. And good luck enjoying each and every one of them with Marinette around. She gave you quite a welcome today, didn’t she?”  

Adrien froze, all sleep vanishing at once, events of the past that changed his life forever flashing in front of his eyes.

***

On the day of their high school graduation, Marinette confessed. She blushed and stuttered and was absolutely adorable, expressing in the most beautiful and sincere of ways just how much he meant to her. When she finished speaking, with a trembling, hopeful smile on her lips, she raised her eyes, full of fear and anxiety, to look at him, but stunned, Adrien couldn't reply for the longest time.

He loved Marinette. He truly did, but only as a dear, close friend. He hated to reject her feelings, but even if Adrien wanted to give Marinette his heart, he couldn't. It had belonged to Ladybug ever since the day they’d met.

Speechless, all Adrien was able to do was look back at Marinette with eyes full of regret and apology. She didn’t need words to understand his answer. Whispering something he didn’t quite catch, Marinette escaped before Adrien could do as little as to say how sorry he was.

He’d never forgiven himself for breaking her heart, and if only he had been more careful, Adrien was certain they would’ve gotten through that incident without losing their friendship. Unfortunately, Adrien wasn’t so lucky. A few days later, he learned that Marinette had been pre-approved for an internship at his father's company. He lost his sleep over it because, living his whole life in the shadow of Gabriel Agreste, Adrien knew quite well what working for his father entailed and what it did to people as nice as Marinette. Sure, from the sidelines, being an employee at the hottest fashion house around seemed glamorous and exciting. In reality, there were only two options: you either allow this work to squash you and have a nervous breakdown before your first year was up, or you become just like his father—a cold, emotionless, heartless workaholic. There were no in-betweens or exceptions as far as Adrien was aware.

He couldn't let any of those happen to Marinette. Not when he wouldn’t be there to protect her. Not when, following a massive argument with his father over his plans for the future less than a week ago, Adrien was about to walk out of there himself. As of that moment, Adrien was supposed to move out of his childhood home by the end of the month if he wanted to pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Otherwise, he’d have to cater to his father’s every whim indefinitely. The choice was clear, and seeing as he was escaping that hell of a company himself, Adrien couldn't silently stand on the sidelines and watch Marinette try to get on board. Not when, unlike him, she didn't know the reality of working for his father. Sadly enough, considering the timing, Adrien doubted that based on his words alone, Marinette would ditch her lifelong dream of working for Gabriel in favour of any other fashion houses that were sure to welcome her with open arms as soon as they saw her portfolio.

That's why he'd done it. That's why Adrien stole her file from his father's office.

He only wanted to protect her. He never meant any harm. He planned to sneak her portfolio to a few of his acquaintances in the other fashion houses that would be a much better fit for Marinette than his father's company ever could.

Perhaps, he could've chosen a better way to go about that, but at that moment, this was all that Adrien could come up with. Better timing also would’ve been nice. With his rejection of her confession, the moment to mess around with Marinette’s passions was as wrong as could be. Still, Adrien was confident his plan would work. The next day, he had a photoshoot for a fashion house that was on top of his list of better options for Marinette, so he stashed a copy of her portfolio in his bag and didn’t think twice about it.

Big mistake.

An hour before he was supposed to leave for the said photoshoot, Alya and Nino dragged him out of the house, picked up Marinette on their way and headed to their favourite cafe for some celebration he couldn’t even remember now. Despite the slight awkwardness between Marinette and him, their hang out turned out to be quite enjoyable. So pleasant, in fact, that Adrien let his guard down and made the second biggest mistake of his life—he’d allowed Alya to rummage around in his bag for mints while he visited the men's room before departing for his photoshoot.

Huge… colossal mistake.

Adrien stopped short of reaching the table on his way back. His friends stared at him in shock; his gaze focused on Marinette.

“Is this the reason no one could find my application when I called them three days ago?” She whispered, looking him straight in the eyes as she clutched her portfolio in her hands. “And the day after that? And yesterday? Today as well? They couldn’t find my portfolio because you took it?”

His body and mind paralyzed, Adrien stood frozen in place. He hadn't expected Marinette to find out. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do or say.

Hastily, Marinette gathered her things and headed for the door only to halt her steps in front of him a moment later.

“Why?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I can understand and accept you not returning my feelings; no one can control their heart. But this?” Her voice cracked as tears escaped her eyes and streamed down her face. “Why would you be so cruel? What did I do to you to deserve this?”

Stunned, Adrien helplessly watched Marinette for a few moments, his dumbfounded silence only fueling her already rushed assumption about the situation. When his speech had returned, he’d scrambled to explain.

“You can’t work for my father.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Oh. And why?”

“It’s a bad idea. You don’t know what working for him can do to you. Marinette, I’ve been there. I’ve seen things… terrible things that happen to people because they can’t handle the workload and demands. I don’t want you there. I don’t want you—”

Marinette raised her hand and spat, “Stop it. I don’t care what you’ve seen there. Those people aren't me. This is not yourdecision to make, Adrien. It’s my life. My decisions. And if it would be a mistake, I want to be the one making it!”

“But—”

“Save it. I thought we were friends, but I guess I was wrong. Friends support each other, not—” She swallowed, looking away, and quietly added, “If my feelings are so much of an inconvenience to you that you didn’t even want me working at your father’s company, you should’ve said so. I would have stayed away on my own. You didn’t have to do this.”

With those words, she walked away. Alya and Nino followed.  

“I can’t believe you,” Alya had snarled. Nino kept looking down as he followed his girlfriend.

They’d kicked him out of their private chat room that same day. Adrien's multiple calls, emails and texts over the next few weeks to the three had gone unanswered. His hope for a chance to explain had been slowly dying, and in the end, it was Chloe—the only friend who remained by his side—who’d convinced him to give up. His heart was breaking, but Chloe was likely right; if none of his friends had responded by then, they’d probably blocked him. Adrien had some pride left, and he wasn’t going to impose himself on anyone in person if they wouldn't speak to him over the phone. There was only so much he could do trying to fix that mess; and he’d done more than enough. By the end of the month, Adrien moved out of the mansion, changed his contacts, and tried to start a new life, leaving everyone behind.

With his move, his relationship with his father had taken a sharp turn for the worse, the two of them becoming as good as strangers. Thankfully, Adrien had enough work and savings to support himself. Soon, he’d found new friends in university, and life seemed to be regaining at least some sense of normalcy. He regretted neither leaving his father nor trying to stop Marinette from entering Gabriel. Quite the opposite, Adrien would've never forgiven himself if he hadn't tried to save her from the claws of the monster called Gabriel Agreste.

Years passed. Adrien graduated and began working as a physics teacher at a local high school, ending his modelling career as soon as he’d signed his teaching contract.

He never heard much from Gabriel until the day his lawyer called from a hospital. A few murmured words of apology from his father in his final moments couldn’t fix anything, but in his heart, Adrien still mourned. He still cared because no matter how estranged they'd grown, Gabriel was still his father and there had been times when Adrien had been happy with him. He wished it could've been different. He wished they could've had a better relationship, but it was a little too late to change anything when his father was taking his final breaths. A failure on both sides. Adrien mourned that as well.

***

Adrien shifted in his bed. He had never asked to inherit anything. He didn’t need this company. It ruined a good part of his life, and for that, he hated it. Being cut off by his former friends, he didn’t know Marinette had been working there, sending all of his sacrifices to hell. But, boy, was he right. That gorgeous woman that snuck into his father’s office today—yes, he had to admit she was gorgeous; Marinette was always pretty but she had bloomed into a beautiful woman—was so exhausted that her beauty was barely visible. A thick layer of exhaustion glazed over her stunning blue eyes; her flawless skin looked pale; the sagging curve of her pink lips did absolutely nothing to accentuate her loveliness. The deep frown line in the middle of her forehead might have been there because of meeting him, but still, Adrien’s heart tightened. Working for his father hadn’t been merciful to Marinette.

Just as he’d predicted.

The worst part of all, however, was that Marinette seemed to not see it herself, fighting for a company that, without a strong leader, was quickly going under. Didn’t she have anyone in her life to care enough for her to shake her out of that trance? Didn’t she—

A thought popped into his head so unexpected and crazy, his eyes widened. It was rather insane, but perhaps fate was giving him a chance to redeem himself?

Whatever wrong he’d done before, his intentions were always pure: to help Marinette. She used to be his friend. He cared for her. Surely fate or destiny or whatever cosmic force that controlled his luck saw that and thought it unfair for Adrien to be condemned for what he hadn’t done. He wasn’t a backstabber; he was a loyal friend.

So, perhaps if he was the bigger person and helped Marinette now, she’d see his noble objective and would have to admit that he wasn’t as horrible of a person as she probably thought him to be. Perhaps she’d even apologize. He was older now, more mature. Surely, he could come up with better plans for how to improve Marinette's life, help her succeed, and prove the purity of his intentions and sincerity of his character.

He did also kind of owe her for breaking her heart. Maybe this was a chance to atone for that as well.

Adrien shook his head and rolled over in his bed. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t care for someone who tossed him aside without even letting him explain. He shouldn’t help anyone who wouldn’t even listen to him or give him the benefit of the doubt.

He had been her friend. She had claimed to be in love with him. Why then was a simple mistake big enough for her to dismiss years of friendship and kick him out of her life? Why should he even think about doing anything nice for such a person, even if only to prove himself right?

Because she helped you just a few hours ago despite hating you.

Adrien groaned. Damn conscience! He still shouldn’t! She did it for the sake of her job, not because she cared for him.

She still helped you when you needed help. She isn’t a lost cause yet. There's still good in her.

Adrien pressed his lips together. He wouldn’t! Not after the way she treated him.

Weren’t you the one to deliver the first blow, though?

Adrien sat up, running his hands through his hair. Why was he such a pushover? Why couldn’t he be more like his father when it came to things like these? Why was he already thinking of the ways he could help Marinette?

Because you aren’t your father, and you still care.

“Okay, fine. I’ll help her.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “Just leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

Settling back into his bed, Adrien closed his eyes and hoped for a few peaceful hours of slumber. Instead, his head buzzed with ideas crazy enough to make him chuckle one moment and bemoan his existence the next. By the time the morning rolled in, there were only two things that Adrien was certain of:

First, Gabriel would have to go. His father had built that company on his employees’ tears and suffering. It wasn’t worth saving, even if Adrien thought he figured out how to do that. It might be a petty, personal revenge move, but Adrien couldn’t find it in himself to care. It would be the right thing to do. Most of its employees had already handed in their resignation letters, anyway.

Second, there was only one way for Marinette to make it in this industry now: find a position in a different company. With her talent, it shouldn't be a problem. He just had to play his cards right and find her a company that would appreciate her more than his father ever did—showing her in the process what a grave mistake she made all those years back when she had cast him aside so cruelly.

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #marichat #adrienette #enemies to lovers #angst with a happy end #the other you #myart #my art

[mrs-han]

Hello!! I see your request is open, so i was wondering could you write about jumin finding out that mc has a self harm scars? And she’s been trying not to relapse into her old habit but she’s having a hard time so it’s the only thing she can think of? Im sorry for my bad english 😅 and if you don’t want to do it, it’s okay! Don’t force yourself to write it. Thank you, oh and also i like your writings a lot! Have a good day :)

~~~

You’re too sweet, thank you so much for your request! This deals with some fairly upsetting topics!

~~~

The delicate georgette sheen from your onyx long-sleeved dress rubbed harshly against your slashed arms. Of all times to relapse, this was the worst - Jumin was a guest of honor at a new hotel inauguration, and of course, he brought you along.

Palms sweating, you pasted a friendly smile towards every patron in attendance. Frankly, you were overjoyed with your husband’s success. But with you having issues of your own... it was difficult to be in a celebratory mood.

“Mrs. Han!” A sponsor quickly made his way towards you, bringing with him several other philanthropists. Anxious, you tugged the hem of your sleeve down, experiencing a sharp pain and a subtle ooze of liquid.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you,” the older gentleman beamed, hand extended towards you. “I am Tanaka Sato, a close partner of your husband.”

Again, you plastered a fake smile across your mouth. You reached over to shake his hand and shuddered as pain radiated through your right arm. Unconsciously, you tugged at your sleeve. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tanaka.”

“It seems he has chosen a new aesthetic, entirely separate of C&R’s minimalistic design. Are you the inspiration behind this?” A chirpy young woman chimed in.

“I always consult with my wife before making any major decisions,” Jumin spoke affectionately, resting his hand on your waist and lightly tugging you close to him. “This project has been hers as much as it has been mine.”

Several of the woman blushed and whispered amongst themselves as the men took a subtle step back, aware of the power both you and Jumin exuded.

If only you felt as powerful as you looked.

“Jumin?” You flashed him a subtle look of desperation. “I need to freshen up, where’s the restroom?”

“Come with me, my love. Excuse us,” he smiled, his eyes bright and full of fondness for you, ignoring everyone else.

It still confused you, how he could look at you with so much love in his eyes. A whirlwind of emotion ravaged your stomach and chest every time he did it. Were you deserving? Certainly not. But he continued to gaze at you with more tenderness than Cupid’s gaze upon Psyche.

“Are you well?” He asked, the strong acoustic voice that overpowered the venue twenty minutes ago now a low, effete tone.

“I’m okay,” you lied. “I couldn’t find the bathroom, but I’ll be out in a minute or two! Go back to your guests!”

A lie was difficult to get past Han Jumin. But he kissed your temple and squeezed your arm - and you held back a mighty yelp.

There was a first time for everything.

“I’ll be waiting for you by the grand piano,” he hummed. “Take your time.”

After watching his withdrawing figure, you pushed the door to the ladies’ room open, flew to a stall and caught your breath before slowly unbuttoning the diamond buttons on your sleeves. Pain greeted you instantly as the cuts on your wrists throbbed unbearably, each laceration making up a heartbeat on their own.

Easing the sleeves up further, you winced. Dull maroon meshed with bright red, old droplets of blood met new. Unforgiving gashes punished you mercilessly, each slice reminding you of how stupid it was to relapse now, when things were so good. Why now? You were so beloved. So cherished. You had no goddamn reason to do this to yourself.

Choking back sobs, you recklessly pushed the stall door open and turned the faucet on. The water cold, you shoved your arms under and bit your lip, desperate to keep from crying out. Determined to keep your scars from discharging anymore blood, you scrubbed with the flat of your hand. The white of the porcelain sink and marble countertops, illuminated by the overhead lights, was now stained with red hues. You had to hurry before someone else came in - everyone knew your face. Anyone could report what they saw to Jumin, especially...

“MC?”

Jaehee.

Tears blurring your vision, you looked towards the door. Her eyes wide, she stood there, processing the scene before her. Hands shaking, you turned the faucet off and, trembling, faced her with what little courage you had left.

She continued to stand there, speechless. You had presented a fairly complicated situation to her, no doubt. Finally, she pressed her hand to the door. “There you are... I will let Mr. Han know.”

“No!” You bellowed. “Please, don’t!”

Conflicted, Jaehee hesitated. “Those cuts... they look serious. It’s best that I —”

“Jaehee,” you pleaded, tears falling down your chin. “Please. I’m begging you, don’t tell Jumin.”

Jaehee’s brows creased. “But MC... he’s worried about you. He’s been standing by the piano for over twenty minutes and now he is sending others to look for you... myself included.”

Overwhelmed and angry as more blood leaked from your opened gashes, you shouted at her. “He can’t see me like this!! Look at me!! Look!!”

Jaehee blinked and flinched slightly.

“I look disgusting!! My arms hurt, I... I can’t face him like this, Jaehee... please —”

“Have you found her, Assistant Kang?”

You didn’t have time to shield yourself. Jumin stepped through the threshold and froze in place. Completely exposed and frozen with fear, you stood before your husband like a deer in headlights.

A single drop of water falling into the ceramic of the sink was the only sound that could be heard.

“Leave us,” Jumin spoke to Jaehee, his voice trembling ever so slightly - his power slipping from him.

Obedient to the end, Jaehee agreed - leaving you stranded.

“What is this,” Jumin demanded, power seeping back to his voice.

You trembled. “Jumin...”

He moved closer to you. “Who did this to you?”

What did he mean...? His eyes trembled, moving back and forth between your arms and your eyes. Did he... not believe you could have done this to yourself? Did he not want to...?

You hung your head shamefully. There was no going back from this, no more hiding from him anymore. You felt mortified, embarrassed that he could see you like this. If only you could turn back time and...

“Give me your arm.”

You flinched - he was already so close to you and you didn’t hear him move. Refusing to look at him, you limply lifted your arm - his hand took hold, making you wince.

He turned the faucet on and ran his hand through the water, checking it’s temperature. “Come closer to the sink,” he hummed, easing you closer to the sink with his other hand on your lower back.

You shuddered as your husband cupped cool water over your wounds. His fingers stroked your burning cuts, making you wince and twitch - but he remained kind and gentle throughout.

What bothered you more than anything was his silence.

He remained focused - but quiet. Hot tears flooded your vision - he would think of you differently now. He could think you were crazy, or he would put you away in a mental ward. He wouldn’t want you anymore, not after this.

The silence dragged, second to second, minute to minute. Jumin patted your arm dry, still saying nothing.

“Jumin...” your voice trembled. “I... I —”

“Give me your other arm,” he spoke, a commanding yet tender tone overtaking his voice.

“Jumin...”

His eyes met with yours and you trembled under the weight of his sorrow. “Talk to me, darling. Please talk to me.”

You moved your hand over your mouth. What were you supposed to say...?

Jumin swallowed thickly. “Are you... are you unhappy with me?”

“No, no Jumin, not at all...!”

“Then...” he took a step toward you, cradling your elbows in the palms of his hand. “... talk to me. Dearest, these wounds look fresh... days old.”

“I...” you leaned against the sink, your legs wobbling. “There are days when... when I’m the happiest person in the world because I have a wonderful life... and I have you, you who loves me more than life itself... and yet... there are days when I’m so sad, so miserable with my own existence that I... I take my misery out on myself.”

Jumin’s thumbs stroked your abrasions, his touch so gentle that you lost any will to contain your tears. You leaned into him, hands close to your chest, and you wept.

“Come here,” he cooed, wrapping his arms around you and holding you firmly against him. “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”

“Of course you are,” you whispered. “You’ve always been here...”

He cradled your face in his hands, wiping your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “I want to help you, darling.” His blinked and you gasped as tears rolled down his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Jumin...”

He clutched your hands desperately, as if you would disappear without a moment’s notice. “I’ll do anything for you. I’ll sit with you and we can come up with a plan for you to stop hurting yourself. I’ll shorten my schedule at work just to hear your troubles, my love. I’ll do anything, so please. Don’t leave me. Whatever is plaguing you, we can fight it together... I won’t ever leave you to fight on your own, so please. Please.”

His knuckled whitened. His hands trembled. For the first time since you met him, you witnessed your husband so desperate to keep you by his side... and you realized that you weren’t alone anymore. For the first time in a long time, you felt a link in the chains that subdued you break and shatter... all because he loved you and wanted to help you.

No he couldn’t banish your demons all together. You didn’t expect him to. But at least this time... you weren’t alone.

“Thank you,” you pipped. “I only wish you found this out later, rather than... here, now, at this very moment. I’m afraid I ruined a really important night for you...”

Jumin carefully kissed your scarred wrist. “No businessman nor any proposition will take precedent over you, my love. Now... let’s finish cleaning you up, mm?”

Through tears, you cracked your first genuine smile of the evening. “Okay.”

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin x mc #Thank you for your request! #Lilac blooms remind me of the scent of your perfume ~