#consistency may be dead but she's also my wife. is that anything

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

spontaneously starts scribbling him Differently Every Time

#CONSISTENCY IS DEAD AND I STRANGLED HER #a very long time ago. im just whaling on a corpse at this point #consistency may be dead but she's also my wife. is that anything #anyway HOWDY HOWDY HOWDY #howdy brain Activated Tonight #i dont know how to draw him! it might seem like i do! i dont! hes fuckin Shaped in such a Way! #the last one was actually the first #i will never be able to replicate it. its what i Want #scribble salad #welcome home #howdy pillar #shakes him shakes him SHAKES HIM #his hair is a bitch to get even remotely right... #ill pin it down tho! ill streamline it! eventually! #every time i look at him my brain essentially goes 'he can get fluffier.... the Volume....'

[sarah-in-disguise]

Home

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Female Reader

Warnings: pregnancy, faked death, hurt/comfort

Summary: Falling in love and planning your life with Jake was almost too easy.  After Jake goes on a last-minute mission, what does the future have in store for you?

Word Count: 2032

A/N: This is my first time writing and I’m posting this one-shot as a participant in @syntheticavenger​‘s Writer’s Camp.  Thank you so much for your help, guidance, and support, Synth!  You made this process so easy and fun and took a lot of the stress about posting my first piece away with your encouragement.  I hope you all enjoy and please comment/reblog/like!

Disclaimer: I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app.  This is a work of fiction and I do not own any characters in this story.  By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.  Moodboard was created by me and picture sources are Google and Canva.

Make sure to check out my brand new masterlist!

Sitting on your front porch rocking chair, you close your eyes and breathe in the sweet, lilac-scented air on your family farm.  It’s almost summer, and a gentle kick to your stomach reminds you that it’s almost time to meet your baby girl.  Rubbing your hands over your belly seems to calm her down for the moment, but you know that soon it’s time to go back inside and start your nightly routine.

You’re not supposed to be here alone, but that’s how you find yourself this unseasonably warm spring evening.  Closing your eyes, you try to recall a memory of Jake sitting here with you.  It’s getting easier to stomach those memories these days, but when you open your eyes to find an empty chair next to you - a chair Jake was supposed to be occupying - you know someday your daughter will sit with you while you talk about the future and share memories of a father she’ll never get to meet.

You met Jake about two years ago after he literally came back from the dead.  Working in the same office as Pooch’s wife, you were a shoulder to cry on and support system when she got word her husband was dead along with the rest of the self-proclaimed “Losers”.  You were with her the night she went into labor, and on a whim decided to stick around in case she needed anything.  That night, the Losers showed up in the pouring rain and a certain Jake Jensen stole your heart in the waiting room through a relentless string of dad jokes.  His mood could brighten any room, and while you typically found that quality entirely too draining, he made it more endearing every minute.  A few dates and Petunia’s games later, you knew he was the one to match your extremely competitive nature while also counteracting your sarcasm with his consistently sunny outlook on life.

After seeing what his family and friends went through losing him once (and with a newly minted girlfriend he found himself planning a future around), Jake decided it was time to stop going on missions and stick to overseeing things in the control room from home.  While he trained two new recruits to take his place on the team and adjusted to his new supervising role, you grew closer together.  Thinking about and planning for the future used to scare you, but with Jake, things seemed to fall into place almost too perfectly.  When Jake got down on one knee to propose on a late summer night in front of your families, you sank to your knees with a smile, a kiss, and a “yes”.

Plans fell into place at a fast pace after the engagement.  You grew up on a family farm just under a half hour outside of the city, and you always knew you wanted to get back to that lifestyle to raise any future kids you may have.  With the announcement of your engagement, your grandma decided it was prime time to move off the family farm, leaving it ready for you and Jake to move in.  The main house would need a lot of updates, but it gave you plenty of room for a home office for Jake, a sewing and crafting room for you, and enough bedrooms to start planning for any Jensen babies you would have after you were married.

Things came to a crashing halt when Jake’s recruits were out on separate missions and the Losers needed him to come back for a last minute mission.  They were following a lead that had gone cold so many times before and they knew waiting until one of Jake’s replacements to get back wasn’t an option.  It didn’t make the situation easier when you found out he could be gone anywhere from a few weeks to several months with little to no contact.

Jake loved this life and future you had built with him, and for the first few hours after the briefing, you didn’t think the Losers would convince him to go.  He tried his hardest to get someone else assigned, but in the end you made the decision together that he needed to go on one more mission.  

It soon became clear that your plans that once fell easily into place were just as easily going to be changed.  Since getting rare updates from the CIA during the mission would be much easier as Jake’s wife, wedding plans were made in a few short days so you could be married before he left.  It wasn’t the wedding you’d dreamed about as a little girl, but the small gathering of family and a few close friends was more than enough for both of you.  Instead of leaving on a honeymoon the morning after the wedding, the two of you spent a day with a contractor speed picking flooring, paint colors, and bathroom finishes so you could oversee the house updates while he was gone.  You also made the joint decision to stop your birth control the week before he left.  You both knew you wanted to start trying for Jensen babies when he came home, so it made sense to let your body adjust while he was gone - but that didn’t mean you didn’t try to perfect the process a few times before he left.

Jake left on a crisp fall morning and you quickly threw yourself into supervising the home updates and unpacking where you could.  While you could never forget the lovable goofball you called your husband, it was easy to remember why you fell in love with him with every sticky note with an “I love you” or dad joke written on them you found while unpacking.  It was also hard to forget him when you missed your period and morning sickness came with a vengeance a few months after he left.  A test and trip to the doctor later, you decided to tell both your parents and his parents after they noticed you not feeling well at Thanksgiving.

December came and construction finished on your home.  You had hoped to have your husband home for the first Christmas in your new home and to celebrate your baby, but your favorite holiday came and went with no Jake in sight.  Hiding your baby bump was getting harder every week, and you wanted him home so you could tell him the exciting news before others outside of your family found out.  After all, he should get to enjoy some of the pregnancy, too - but instead, you resorted to a nightly routine of playing a recording of Jake’s voice to your belly.  You were starting to feel little flutters each night as a signal that your baby was missing their dad.

But, like many things in life, things seem to go great until they don’t.  A knock from an upper level CIA officer on a bitterly cold January morning brought with it your biggest fear.  Jake’s mission had been compromised and none of the Losers made it out alive or back home.  Things were a blur from that moment until you watched an empty casket get lowered into the ground, but a gut-wrenching scream seemed to pull you out of the fog.  It wasn’t until you sank to the ground and the sudden cold hit your legs that you realized the scream was coming from you.

You did your best to seclude yourself after that day.  Ever since Jake’s obituary stated he was survived by his wife and unborn child, you couldn’t stand to endure the looks of pity aimed your way.  Without your Jake-sized ray of sunshine, it was easy at first to live in a state between constant pain and numbness.  After the funeral, you found out you were going to have a baby girl, and with each passing day, it broke your heart more and more as you started to realize your growing baby was a daddy’s girl.  While you actively tried to avoid any voice recording at first, it was hard to ignore the kicks of excitement from your little girl every time she heard him speak.  Soon, even talking about him brought fluttering kicks from your daughter.

The minutes went slow but the days went fast, and many spring nights you find yourself here - on your front porch in the set of matching rockers you’d planned to share with Jake.  After listening to you talk about growing up and watching the sunset with your family on the front porch, he knew he wanted to keep that tradition alive with your new family.  Now, you rocked and thought of the arrival of your daughter who would someday sit beside you instead.

You’d get to meet your baby girl in just a few short weeks, which is part of the reason you were enjoying this peaceful night watching the sunset.  Your mom was scheduled to temporarily move in later this week so she could be on hand when you went into labor and for the first few weeks at home after the baby was born.  Thinking of the future, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to picture all the happy moments that would soon be coming your way instead of the heartbreaking ones you knew would come with them in the form of both you and your daughter missing Jake, but crunching tires on the gravel driveway snapped you out of it.

Looking up, you see a yellow Hummer park in front of the house, but you knew better than to get excited at the sight of Jake getting out of the front seat.  More often than not, these days brought dreams of sharing special moments and conversations with your late husband that you’d never really get to see, and it seemed like your lack of sleep had you falling asleep on the front porch this evening.  You feel like this dream is different, however, because Jake seems stunned to see you instead of being his usual, energetic self.

“Hey, Jakey,” you greet softly with a small smile.  “I’ve missed you.”  Reaching a hand over to the empty rocking chair, you pat it to invite him to sit down and enjoy the sunset in your dreams.  Jake, however, has different plans.  His steps quicken as he gets closer, and as he reaches you, he drops to the ground on his knees to feel your very swollen stomach.

“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks as tears start streaming down his face, “I didn’t know you were…” he trails off without finishing his sentence.  A gentle pair of hands placed on your stomach bring your daughter’s kicks to life.

“That’s funny,” you say while glancing down at his hands, “I’ve never felt her kick when I’ve dreamed of you before.”  Your head snaps up as a watery giggle falls from your husband’s mouth.

“We’re having a baby girl?  That’s my baby girl in there?”  Jake's hands move to cup your cheeks before he continues.  “I can’t believe I had to put you through this on your own, but I promise to make it up to you, sweetheart.”  His forehead touches yours as you move to grab his wrists to keep him there in your dream as long as you can.

“I love you, Jake, but even the dream version of you in my head shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep.”  Tears fill your eyes as you pull your forehead away from his to meet his line of sight.  “It might make this dream easier, but it breaks my heart when I wake up and you’re not here with me.”  With that, your husband gets that mischievous look in his eye before he pulls a hand away to pinch your arm with all this might.

“OUCH!  What the hell was that for?!”  It takes a moment filled with your sweet husband’s giggles before your pain changes to complete and utter shock.  “If I can feel that,” you whisper as fresh tears stream down your face, “then that means…”

“That means I’m home, sweetheart,” Jake says with the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on his face while wiping your tears away.  “That means I’m home.”

#jake jensen x female reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen #reader insert #jake jensen fanfiction #synth's writer's camp summer 2022 #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x plus sized reader

[shrikeseams]

I don’t understand this idea that Finwë is forcing Miriel into staying dead forever because he wants to get with Indis - the text makes it very clear that he tries for years to get Miriel to come back, and she consistently makes insists that she’ll never return. Why should Finwë stay alone forever for the sake of someone who never opens on coming back? The story even says that she doesn’t even consider coming back to life until until he dies himself. I don’t see how Finwë, and especially Indis, did anything wrong.

It's late and I'm tipsy, so this may not be my best effort, but here goes, and if you want clarification/further response you'll have to reply or reblog:

TL;DR: I have no issue with Finwe's remarriage. My issue is that his remarriage was conducted in such a way (by both finwe and the Valar) that a) functionally left Miriel facing all of the long-term consequences while Finwe got just what he wanted, and b) was conducted in unseemly haste for a species that is LITERALLY IMMORTAL. THERE IS NO REASON FOR FINWE TO BE IN A RUSH. HE HAS THE ENTIRE LIFETIME OF ARDA. And also, c) Finwe ultimately proves faithless to Indis as well, which (to me) suggests that this is a finwe problem. If he had just gotten a divorce and severed his fate from miriel's, I... would still not have a high opinion of him. But I wouldn't want to beat him with a 2x4, y'know? The real issue here is that true divorce is a positive social good, but that in its absence Finwe and the valar chose a course of action that only benefited one party.

TLDR-er: Just because miriel wasn't healed when it was convenient to finwe does not give him the right to steal her right to reimbody if and when she does heal. Even the act of asking is, to me, unforgivable. I don't think he was obliged to stay marrived to her, but what he actually did was to functionally ask her to die for his comfort. (Indis's only wrongdoing was bad taste in men. 😔)

TLDRest: I actually think it's worse to ask somebody to die/stay dead for eternity than it is to ask someone not to have a wife and more children! I kinda thing finwe should have looked into adoption and maybe joined a bowling league! The absence of his wife is not, in fact, Doom him to be Forever Alone!

TLDREST FOR REAL THIS TIME: Miriel's right to live (and therefore to eventually reimbody) supercedes finwe's right to remarry for any reason. And his willingness to compromise that makes me doubt his moral character.

Firstly, let's acknowledge my personal bias. Every time I think of miriel, I am thinking of her as if she were one of my friends. That is by basis for looking at the miriel-finwe-indis relationship: how would, personally, view finwe if he were the spouse of a friend? If you can't at least partway accept that premise then I do not expect that this will be convincing.

and because I know this approach isn't universal, my baseline reading is that miriel is suicidally depressed, in a situation where even a completed suicide does not release her from the pressures of her husband, society, and religion.

Now. Let's shift the circumstances a little, to a more real-world version. Let's say that Miriel just has extreme postpartum depression, and she's gone to a facility for inpatient treatment of her own choice. And then, because she isn't any better and still needs that extra support, she stays in that facility for years.

What would you think of a husband who repeatedly pressured her to leave inpatient care? What would you think of a husband who pressured his wife to leave medical care specifically because he wants more kids (the thing that put her into care in the first place)? Would you think well of him for using his political power♧ to functionally get a legal exemption for bigamy, under the condition that his first wife can't ever leave inpatient care (even if she heals)?

Now, take whatever emotional reaction you had to that scenario (which could be different from mine!) And bring it back to Arda.

And when you do that, please remember that 1) elves are immortal and literally have the option to wait for a spouse until the end of the world if they so choose. But ,y understanding is that the longest Finwe ever waited to remarry in a draft was Feanor's early adulthood. So you have a literal immortal who can't give his wife a few millenia of grace to heal. and also--

2) Finwe and miriel lived in a society where that was, in fact, the expectation. That was the deal they made when they married. That was the choice. Even if they married in Aman with expectation of eternal paradise, they both made the journey, and had lived in the real world, and presumably had at least some cultural scripts for the death of a spouse.

And keep in mind what finwe's remarriage isn't: it's not a divorce. It leaves miriel bound to death and finwe free to remarry. The only benefit to miriel was that everybody stopped pestering her to be healed already.*

With all that in mind--are you comfortable with finwe's choice? If Finwe were a friend of yours, would you think he had done well by his first wife? Did he honor his vows to her? Did he act in justice?

And does that answer change when he later abandons indis of his own free will?

♧ do you think finwe's petition would have gone anywhere but the garbage bin if he (and indis) weren't royal? Because I don't.

*i think this is technically a tangential thought but: is it ethical to ask a suicidally depressed personal, who literally already killed herself, to stay dead forever for someone else's benefit? Because to me, if she were healed enough to answer that question with a clear mind, then the situation itself becomes irrelevant. This is only relevant if you read miriel as depressed/ill in some way, I suppose, but there's an inherent catch-22 there that I feel like the valar and finwe handled in an intrinsically unethical way.

#Tolkien #Friends don't let friends date finwe #But also: divorce is a positive social good #And without it you have to really fucking mean it to marry forever #And not just until it's no longer convenient to you #(Because finwe ditched *both* of his spouses! His failure to honor his marriage to indis even in less stressful circumstances #Just... I just... finwe's probably a fine guy who's just not suited to marriage! That is not a bad thing! #But he's still responsible for the promises he made!) #San shoots the breeze

[illwilledomen]

The Wormwood Family

The Wormwoods are an immensely wealthy illager family in my world. A few of my illager OCs belong to the bloodline, including Percy. They own a sprawling estate and what is essentially a personal militia, and are the closest thing to royalty you can get with the way illager society works.

Illager factions are usually run by, to put it simply, extremely wealthy and extremely powerful gangs, typically lead by the head of a family and named after the family’s surname. The lord or lady who is the head of the gang will live in the woodland mansion and as will their next of kin (children, grandchildren, nephews, nieces, etc).

The Wormwood manor is owned by Giovanni Wormwood, an old and powerful Evoker who is 109 years old. His old age does not show - physically he is in his mid sixties.

He is kept alive by magic and while he is sharp witted and cruel as ever, his health is slowly deteriorating from the effects of his dark magic.

He runs the house with an iron fist, and is a sour and arrogant man - the house is also run by his second in command, Lady Andrea. She is his wife, and is around 103 (once again, kept younger by her magic) and often runs the place when he is unable to. She is even colder than her husband, and is not afraid to eliminate anyone who stands in her way, including her own family. She had her first born son murdered (attempted murder, he may or may not have survived and got into the art of …..illusion..) because he could not succeed in his magic studies, and often dangles this looming threat over her other children. Rumour in the mansion has it that she might be behind Gio’s health failures, some whispering in hushed tones that she has put some kind of curse on him to ensure her side of the family takes over, but for now, that’s all it is - just rumours.

Next in the line are Gio, Andrea and their siblings (all of which are dead) children. They are part of the highest league of Evokers. The council, as they call themselves, consist of the lord and lady, the high mages, and also a top vindicator general, Hemlock, who often joins meetings, being close friends with the lord and lady and is highly respected in the mansion despite not being of the bloodline.

Gio and Andrea’s eldest son is Mervyn, an exuberant socialite with a loud and pompous personality. He loves expensive gifts and booze, is extremely gullible and is a bit of a fool. He often boasts about his magical prowess and charm (none of which are anything special, he often relies on magical party tricks to get people to tolerate him) and has a habit of getting extremely drunk and running his mouth about things he shouldn’t. He gets scammed a lot. He has two body guard vindicators, who are silent, imposing and are also twins.

Ursula is the second eldest child, she is not of the bloodline but is the wife of Mervyn and so that makes her a step-child. She gossips a lot and loves to spread rumours. She spoils her eldest daughter Yolanda and her youngest son Charleston rotten, and also spoils her vex, despite being advised not to waste her magic by summoning the, when she shouldn’t. If you dare criticize her sweetie-poppet-darling-angel-Charlie-bear Charleston you will probably get thrown into the ocean with weights attached to your ankles.

Then we have Eugene, the middle child. He’s a complete loser and gets 0 bitches. He is constantly complaining and grumbling about something, and due to this, Ursula takes great pleasure in making him be the target of her passive aggressive warfare. He works as a scrollkeeper and has an extensive knowledge on many things - if you can get past his complete lack of charisma, permanent expression of disgust and nasally drone of a voice, he contains an ocean of knowledge.

The second youngest son, Marrow. Marrow is a Casanova, always trying to woo any illager who catches sight of his award winning smile and chiseled jawline. He plays into peoples egos, praising them and watching them intently, making them feel important to put them under his spell to do his bidding, like a siren. Behind his facade of romance and charm hides a cunning and sadistic character, who takes pleasure in watching things suffer. He shows this in his Vex, who often take the form of the illager’s inner personality. His vex are absolutely vile and go out of their way to upset, hurt or frighten people physically, emotionally or verbally whenever he summons them. Due to this, he only takes them out on the battlefield or when he wants to torment his employees, nieces or nephews. He is an immensely cruel man and is not to be toyed with.

Marrow had a wife, however she’s out of the picture. No one really knows what happened to her.

The youngest son is a recluse. His name is Ferguson and he stays away from his siblings. Like Marrow, he is a twisted individual, however he is more obviously so than his brother. He has a disturbing fascination with anatomy and mutation, and dreams of making a biologically ‘perfect’ creature. His studies and experiments have helped refine the… ‘model’… for the Ravager, and when he is around people he is often can seen staring them down in an immensely creepy and violating way, particularly if they’re a human or a villager, or taking notes frantically with his notebook that he carries. He is a pasty little beast with gaunt features, even for illager standards, and he giggles like a complete maniac. No one really knows what he does in the dank, dark corners of the mansion laboratories, but it can’t be good. Stay on your guard around this peculiar character.

Luckily, he’s a coward, so if you look tough enough you probably won’t get mysteriously knocked out cold with a slowness potion at night and wake up on a dissection table.

Finally we have the youngest of the bloodline, all ranging from teens to their late twenties.

The eldest child of Marrow is Persis, of whom prefers the name Percy. She’s 28 and she’s a vindicator. She is tall and broad, and her personality alone could fill up a room. She’s loud, raucous and both extremely unlikeable and charismatic in her own kind of way. She has a short temper, and also flirts a lot but never actually bothers to be courteous or respectful to her love interests - she’s the kind of person who will leave without so much as a good morning after sleeping with someone. She is an adept warrior, and is extremely strong. Given she has pure direct Wormwood blood she would have become an Evoker, but she was extremely burly and violent from the start so it was decided she’d get dibs on a higher up position in vindicator training. She likes to bully anyone who’s smaller than her in size, with the exception of her cousin Charleston, who’s her boss.

The second child, and youngest of Marrow’s children, sister of Percy, we have Ivy, a female evoker who is exceptionally gifted. She is stoic and cold, and Percy cannot recall ever seeing the girl smile, cry or even so much as express more than the occasional scowl or grimace in disgust. She is very powerful for her age (being 18) and due to this she is often seen as the favorite child. However she is constantly pressured by her elders and is put through the painful and abusive training that comes with learning the dark arts, hence her numbness. She speaks very little, and when she does, she usually puts that effort into bruising someone’s ego. Her vex are aggressive and unstable in nature, often wailing and shrieking. Due to this she uses fangs the majority of the time.

Percy and Ivy don’t get along. Percy thinks she’s a ‘prissy little cow’ and Ivy thinks Percy is a ‘lumbering moron’.

Then, we have the children of Ursula and Mervyn.

Yolanda is the oldest daughter of the two, being 24. She loves jewelry and expensive things, is spoiled rotten by her mother and father, and like her mother, she’s always in on the gossip. Out of all the illagers here, however, she’s probably the nicest. She isn’t as mean spirited as the rest of her family, is quite emotional and while she isn’t the brightest she usually means well. Because of her softness and naivety, she’s subject to cruelty from her peers and often looked down upon in a condescending way, even by her own parents. It doesn’t help that she’s not a very good mage, either.

Youngest, we have Charleston, whos 21. Charlie is your classic spoiled rich pretty boy. He’s entitled and boasts a lot, and has a Napoleon complex (he’s quite small - not Arch-illager levels of manlet, but enough to make him a target for cruel jokes). Percy works for him as his body guard, and it’s a good thing he’s a cousin and pays well because Percy can’t stand him and would love nothing more than to punt the little bastard. Charles is terrified of his uncle Marrow and Fergie. He also hates ravagers. Probably because they remind him of Fergie’s ‘projects’. It’s very clear that Charlie is Ursula’s favourite child, and due to this, Yolanda gets jealous and often picks on the boy.

Okay, that’s all I have for now. Thanks for reading!

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft lore #illager #minecraft ocs #minecraft OC #illager OC #evoker #vindicator #long post

[nancydfan]

Also, if Rose is taken away, it BETTER be for a good reason (not that there is really any). That, and it better not be Chris’s doing. There’s no way he’d intentionally disrespect his dead friend’s wishes, let alone rip away the one person Mia has left.

The only thing I can see being a somewhat reasonable explanation is I guess Mia being physically unable to take care of her, such as some really severe mental health issues. Kind of like a Terminator 2 situation…but even then…she’s been through so much and was still able to be a good and caring mother.

Ethan clearly trusted her, and he knows better than anyone else. If he didn’t, they wouldn’t have had Rose in the first place. Heck, the whole Village of Shadows storybook alludes to that.

My main hope is that if this unfortunately turns out to be true…the ending consists of Rose getting a better life be reuniting with her mother. Otherwise it’s just straight up depressing, and not is good way.

Ending the Winters saga on something like that is essentially taking a piss on Ethan’s grave. Give them a happy ending…for the love of god.

(Sorry for the rant.)

Sorry I’m delayed at responding! I’m out with my sister today.

As much as I don’t want Mia and Rose separated at all because I contribute it to bad writing, if Mia is Ill or otherwise physically incapable, I would stomach it better.

It’s such a throwaway statement in the article so it leaves us with nothing but speculation. It could be something extremely reasonable or so incredibly moronic I’ll be angry for days. I don’t know what to think anymore.

Ethan calls Mia a miracle. He loves her fully and never indicates once that he’s not fully trusting of her ability to be a great mom. It also blows my mind it’s even a question like pls for the love of God do you think Ethan would not have noticed anything if Mia wasn’t appropriate with Rose? After everything we saw of him in re8? Like yeah right. You may love a spouse but your kids are always first and I have no question he would defend and protect Rose first.

I saw someone on twitter say that they don’t understand why people are mad. That Ethan told Chris with his dying breathe to take care of Rose. Yes, but that wasn’t take Rose. There was no, pls exclude my wife and Rose’s mother from her life. it feels really awful that they waited until Ethan’s death to remove Mia from Rose. This family has suffered so much. I do not understand why they’re adding more. It’s just crazy. 

#thanks for the ask my friend! #mrs joe speaks #resident evil #resident evil spoilers #shadows of rose #ethan winters #mia winters #rose winters

[verumyn]

I wrote this for my English class but I thought tumblr might like it

Recently I’ve been playing the Witcher 3. After watching my boyfriend play through God of War 4 and God of War: Ragnarok, it’s been interesting to notice the subtle differences between Geralt of Rivia and Kratos. Both are stern, quiet, guilt-ridden men with children. Geralt didn’t quite willingly become Ciri’s father figure, she is much older and independent than Atreus, and she isn’t traveling with Geralt (where I am in the game, at least.) As a result of these differences, Kratos is much more focused on passing on lessons to his son, and his morals come to the forefront of the game often in that way. He hides parts of himself, trying to protect Atreus and spare him any influence from Krato’s past. I see Geralt’s moral perspective come through mostly through his own choices. You can somewhat change Geralt’s moral disposition yourself in the games. I most often try to pick the most honorable/kind/moral moral option, and even at that level of dialogue, Geralt comes across to me as more morally gray than Kratos.

(Spoilers for Wild at Heart side quest in the Witcher 3)

I was considering Geralt’s sense of morality (and my own) during a specific side quest. A man, Niellan, said his wife had gone missing. His sister-in-law, Margrit, urged us not to look for her (suspicious, right?) We find his wife, Hanna, dead in the woods - killed by a werewolf. A short investigation reveals that Niellan is the werewolf. He would lock himself up in a cave under his hunting lodge and hope he didn’t hurt anything. The only choice given to us by the game is to wait for night to fall and attack the werewolf. Once Niellan is defeated, Margrit appears and begs us not to kill him, for she loves him, confessing to luring Margrit into the woods to be killed by Niellan during his transformed frenzy so they could be together. Niellan responds, saying, “I will kill you willingly. First time for that. You showed no mercy for your sister, and so I will show no mercy to you.” We then have the choice of killing Niellan to save Margrit, or to let Niellan kill her. If we let him kill Margrit, we encourage Niellan to stay out of our way, so he may continue living his life in peace, but he begs for us to kill him - and so we do.

I thought to myself - I would have much preferred if there was a third option to try and deescalate the situation, and let both parties live. Geralt seemed to have two options for werewolves in his mind. 1) Cause trouble and I’ll kill you, or 2) I’ll pretend I didn’t see you, stay out of my way. Having lived a life of violence himself and often being compared to a monster without empathy, I would think that Geralt could offer a werewolf mercy and, perhaps, options on how to mitigate the damage of their curse. Niellan already was managing his lycanthropy the best he could - and it was only Margrit’s manipulation of the situation that led to Hanna’s death. So why did Geralt see his only option as staking out in the werewolf’s lair and killing it? I suppose he saw the danger of letting Niellan live to be too much - but his later decisions speak to him being willing to bend that - he offered mercy to Niellan, but only AFTER he murdered Margrit for what she did. Perhaps it’s a weakness of the writing, but to me it also signifies a character trait of Geralt - that he does what he thinks is necessary, but that seems to change and bend with context, maybe without the most forethought and wisdom.

(Spoilers for the end of God of War 4)

Kratos, contrastingly, I think showcases his morals very clearly in his final fight with Baldur. He only fights to defend Freya (Baldur’s mother) - and several times over gives Baldur the chance to walk away. He only enacted the final blow when Baldur was seconds away from murdering his mother. Kratos shows consistency, which I think only comes from the deep reflection he has done on his past and the value of his life moving forward.

#god of war #kratos #the witcher #geralt

[priestessofcreation]

Greek Mythology and Game of Thrones

Okay buds. This has been on my mind for a while and I thought maybe it was a coincidence, but I have found two examples of Greek Mythology being a potential HUGE influence for Game of Thrones/ASOIAF. And listen, listen: I have three jobs and I have been putting off one of them for three weeks (I work from home for this one). I was gonna do it tonight, but I'm doing this instead.

So you should appreciate this.

EXAMPLE 1: Zeus & Hera - Bobby-B & Cersei

Zeus - King of the Greek Gods

Zeus is the God of thy Sky. Of lightning and thunder. Of storms. He is also notorious for his various sexual and romantic excursions. I believe one person said "he sleeps with anything that moves."

Who does this sound like?

Robert Baratheon - Dead King of Westeros

Robert Baratheon was formerly the heir to the Storm's End in the Stormlands, a region in Westeros notorious for, obviously, its storms. His ancestors were literally called "the Storm Kings." He also loves four things: drinking, eating, fighting, and fucking. He cheats on his wife and queen everyday of the week and has like a billion bastards.

Oh, but it gets better! Bobby-B's wife is, of course, Cersei Lannister:

Cersei Lannister, Queen of Westeros

Cersei Lannister is miserable in her marriage, had pretty much no choice but to marry Robert (yes, she initially was excited to marry him, but she couldn’t exactly say ‘no’) and is incredibly vengeful and vindictive. By the end of the TV series, she is consumed by her need to seek vengeance on anyone she had perceived as hurting her. In the book, she is on a similar trajectory. There is seemingly no logic to her actions, since she seeks revenge against those who deserve it as much as those who don't. As a result, it is/will be her downfall. But who does this sound like?

Hera, Queen of the God, Goddess of Women & Marriage, and a character who has had half of her canon wiped out by stupid people.

Hera, in her classic form, is a goddess who got tricked into marrying Zeus. She was made Goddess of Marriage, only for her husband (Zeus) to cheat on her repeatedly. She became so embittered that she reigned vengeance on every "mistress" (quotes because they were actually non-consenting victims or deceived) and bastard child of Zeus that existed (save for a few that received special circumstances, such as other gods or heroes that were specially protected by Zeus). In her defense, the only reason she didn't go after Zeus directly is because the gods could not harm each other. Also in her defense, an immortal existence of being a goddess of marriage only for YOUR HUSBAND to keep defiling the very thing you are in charge of is horrible.

However, to bring this all together:

Queen is married to a "storm king" who repeatedly cheats on her to the point where it is mortifying for her. He has countless bastards. He abuses her. And she can't do shit because her position (a woman in Westeros/Goddess of Marriage) prevents her from doing anything for justice or in retaliation that is productive. As a result, queen reigns senseless vengeance on people who may or may not deserve it (in Hera's case, they did not). Queen received a horrible reputation and seething hatred from the masses. Storm king has limited respect, but because he is a man and has power no matter what he does, people just roll their eyes in response and say "Oh, that's Robert/Zeus for you." Storm king receives respect nonetheless and queen is drowning into insanity because of the abuse and judgment she suffers due to her circumstances (however, Cersei had indications of other severe problems before all of this).

Robert and Cersei. Zeus and Hera. Sounds incredibly similar.

EXAMPLE 2: The Abduction of Lyanna - the Rape of Persephone

A king/soon-to-be-king is considered in the canon he relies in to be someone who is kinder than a lot of his counterparts. However, his most notorious action is the kidnapping of a beloved maiden. Usually so consistent in his actions, this man's seemingly impulsive actions results in the near-decimation of the world he lives in. Depending on the canon, this kidnapped maiden becomes his queen. The masses are split on what happened: most say that this man kidnapped this maiden, raped her, and made her his. But some claim it is a hidden love story.

That man:

Rhaegar Targaryen, Former Prince of Westeros, Sexy INFJ

Hades, God of the Underworld, King of the Dead, Also Sexy INFJ. Art from Lore Olympus (obviously classic Hades doesn't wear a suit, this is just my favorite version of him)

Hades and Rhaegar, for the most part, were considered characters who were a lot tamer than their counterparts in their respective canons. Rhaegar was well-loved by both nobles and commoners. Hades was not well-loved because he was the God of the Dead (and most mortals fear death), but in his mythology, he was always dutiful to his job, barely caused any issues, and even helped heroes from time-to-time. However, their character is brought into question when their eyes are caught by a maiden.

The kidnapped maiden:

Lyanna Stark, Lady of House Stark, definitely told Rhaegar to fuck off

Persephone, Goddess of Spring & Queen of the Underworld, managed to claim the throne of the underworld and come back as a goddess in her own right

The story says that Lyanna and Persephone (Kore before her kidnapping) were taken without their consent by Rhaegar and Hades. The story says they were raped by these respective men. There is a difference in that Rhaegar took Lyanna without the consent of her father (Lyanna was betrothed to Robert Baratheon) while Hades did have the blessing of Persephone's canonical father, Zeus. However, her mother Demeter had no idea.

In the case of the Rape of Persephone, that is the most well-known, mainstream story with little wiggle room for other interpretations. However, some modern interpretations of the myth, combined with Hades and Persephone's stable marriage throughout the myths, and older recovered myths/info, indicated that they may have had a more consensual relationship. Whereas in ASOIAF/Game of Thrones, we have to go off of Bobby-B spreading horseshit about how his "true love" was taken from him by the “spoiled and psychopathic” Rhaegar Targaryen and, of course, the masses believed him because they wanted him to usurp the Targaryens.

As can be seen from above, you can't quite tell which version of the truth is real. We will analyze that more in a moment.

What I want to touch on next is the near-decimation of their world.

But of these men's choices resulted in countless deaths.

Hades and his sister's Winter: Hades kidnapped Persephone without Demeter's knowledge. Demeter is the Goddess of the Harvest. Her very essence brings life for the mortals to live. But when her daughter was taken and no one would help Demeter, she went on strike. She pulled her power back and winter, for the first time ever, arrived. Demeter was deep in grief. She loved her daughter and she wanted her back. That winter almost wiped out humanity. It was only after their weren't enough mortals to give prayers and sacrifices to the gods that Zeus finally said to Hades: "Bro, you gotta bring her back."

Now if you eat food from the underworld, you are the underworld's forever. Hades... tricked? Persephone into eating six pomegranate seeds because she had been starving all this time and Hades could "keep her" if she ate something from his realm. However, Demeter wasn't relenting. So, Zeus came up with the compromise - Persephone spends six months above with her mother as the Goddess of Spring and six months with her husband as Queen of the Underworld.

Rhaegar and Robert's Rebellion: Rhaegar is completely preoccupied with the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised and I think I can firmly say that it is the one thing that would cause him to make such a stupid move. Otherwise, Rhaegar is considered a good prince who cared about the little folk. He also didn’t make a lot of stupid moves, up to this point. However, he needed "a third head of the dragon" and more prophetic nonsense.

However.

There were indications of him having a... thing for Lyanna. Take a moment to consider the Tourney at Harenhall. You know these examples: his song made Lyanna cry, Rhaegar named her his Queen of Beauty, and he “could not find” the Knight of the Laughing Tree (it was Lyanna, we all know it).

Later on, he took Lyanna Stark. He was a married man who had no plans to take a second wife nor consent from Lyanna’s father for them to marry. She was betrothed to Robert Baratheon. On top this, King Aerys (Rhaegar’s father) committed a few atrocities on top of an already cruel and corrupt reign. Westeros, at this point, was a powderkeg and Rhaegar's actions lit the match.

Robert gathered his bannermen and went to war to save his betrothed. For a year, Westeros flowed with blood. Rhaegar eventually met with Robert on the battlefield and was slaughtered by him. Lyanna died before Robert could find her. He usurped the throne, but Robert mourned Lyanna for the rest of his days.

Analysis:

Hades had Zeus's consent, which back then was enough for his actions. And uh... he had a lot of business, with Demeter going on strike. The gods have different morals than us. However, the lack of worship would have impacted Hades and Persephone as well. So, effectively, all of existence was dying.

As for Rhaegar, he made a strategic ERROR that he obviously thought would, in the long-term, save the fucking world. Instead, he got killed and thousands of lives went with him, as well as his whole family and dynasty.

As for the differences in interpretation for what actually happened... I want to talk about Lyanna and Persephone and how conveniently we get limited-to-no information on their perspective. What we know from them:

Lyanna: She was a lot like Arya. She liked to ride horses and fight. She stood up to bullies and protected the innocent, as she was almost certainly the Knight of the Laughing Tree. She had some sort of… liking for Rhaegar (her tears with his music). She also DID NOT want to marry Robert because he sleeps with anything that moves and she knows it. She told Ned as much. Also - Ned said that he didn't think Rhaegar frequented brothels. Persephone: This is modern and archetypal interpretations, but Persephone may have had an uncomfortably close relationship with her mother. To the point where she wasn't her own person and she couldn't breathe. Her marriage to Hades was considered one of the more healthy ones in mythology. She was the one to get her husband to create the Elysian Field. She was the one to convince him to pity Orpheus. And perhaps she was truly just "too timid," but not once did she complain about the arrangement that she came to at the end of her myth.

The fact is, if these girls consented to going with their respective "kidnappers," then that would change everything. And suddenly, their "kidnapping and rape" would go to "forbidden love story." Yes, I am aware they were both minors (some reports say Persephone was 13 when she was taken) and the actions of these men are not justified. However, this is medieval Westeros and Ancient Greece. So for the time, this was normal and people would come to those conclusions IF the girls consented (and if the masses gave a shit about that, which considering how these stories are told, they DID NOT).

Either way, if WE HAD THEIR PERSPECTIVE, it would fill in A LOT OF HOLES.

Okay, those are all the examples I have!

For the love of everything, if you have other examples, SHARE THEM ON THIS POST. I WANT TO KNOWWWWW.

Most of the art is credited. If there is anything that needs to be credited and you happen to know who did the art, let me know and I will add it to the post.

Thanks so much for reading this!

#greek mythology #asoiaf #game of thrones #mythology

[phoenixyfriend]

Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Commander Cody #Disaster Lineage #time travel #Qui Gon Jinn #Jango Fett #Quinlan Vos #one sided codywan #one sided obikin #trust me it's very stupid #villain au #CodyQuin #Rexsoka #maybe? #Komari Vosa #Fake Sith AU #Phoenix Posts #kink mention #kinky power dynamics in non-sexual situations #Anakin's got a lot of neuroses and unfortunately he's making it everyone's problem #cult mention #This is 7.5k and only sort of organized #500 notes

[infernal-fire]

I love your dark Jake Jensen and I have a request for him, so the team gets in contact with reader for supplies for a mission an Jensen feels a spark between them so he makes every excuse to talk to reader to the point the team teased but helps him out with his grand scheme to get with reader but they don't know how far he'd go to make reader his ☺️💕 thanks

I love a good dark!jake fic!! I have changed the specifics a litttllle bit so i hope this is alright :)

Warnings: implied noncon/dubcon, some creepy behaviour, mention of stalking, drugging, mention of breeding kink

Summary: 5 days; that’s how long it takes him to become fixated on you.

Wc: 2k 

You’re My Delusion

They could have gone to any supplier. Fate would have it that Aisha wanted you, and only you. 

The melodious tune of a piano ringtone chimed in your bag. You ask the other daycare teacher to take over for you and picked up the phone: Unknown Number. You watched the phone ring until the line went dead and resumed your day. 

It may have been an ‘unknown number’, but your subconscious unequivocally knew who it was. Grumbling at the thought of being contacted again, you twisted the handle to your condo. Of course, you didn’t bat an eye when there was an envelope on your countertop, one that you didn’t put there; Aisha knew that you knew the phone would ring again, and if you didn’t answer, she would pay you a visit.

When Unknown Number flashed across your screen for the second time that day, you considered letting it go to voicemail again, but picked up anyway. 

“Aisha.”

“Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna ask me for an assist-”

Aisha cut you off. “I know you don’t do missions anymore. We need a safe house that’s off the books.”

“Who’s we?”

“They’re all men.” As if on cue, you heard someone guffaw in the background. “It’s making me lose my goddamn mind,” she elucidated. 

“You know I don’t really do this stuff anymore,” you huffed, “But I’m making an exception this one time. For you.” You could hear Aisha let out a squeal of happiness, and realized how bad it must be if she uncharacteristically showed excitement.

//

While cleaning up your old warehouse-turned-safehouse, Aisha’s words echoed in the back of your head. “Some of them are a little... bulky. Let them sleep on the floor.” You tried to protest, asking her, what’s the point of a safehouse if they aren’t resting well, but she dismissed the question. “Trust me. They’re nothing more than cavemen.”

It was 4 AM; foot tapping impatiently and sipping on the third coffee of the night, you smacked your forehead in frustration. It was way past bedtime. After living alongside Aisha for years, anyone would appreciate nights that consist of 8 hours of sleep. 

You could certainly appreciate it. Being a daycare teacher, living in a civilian condominium and not engaging in government work was something you couldn’t take for granted. Not after all the shit you’ve seen. 

3 brusque knocks sounded on the metal door to your right. Your head snapped to the source, waiting for Aisha to call out the code word. 

“LOSERS!” a voice hollered from the other side. You trudged to the door, trying to shake off the dizziness that came with standing up too fast. 

Opening the door with caution, you had only blinked a few times before a body pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You’re never this excited to see me. That bad, huh,” you sneered. 

“You have no idea.” Aisha pulled out of the hug and turned to face the men who had lined up nearby. 

“So… who’s this?” The guy with dirty blonde hair, nerd glasses and a horrible sense of fashion piped up. His whole appearance was an oxymoron to his build - muscles protruded out of the bright pink shirt that hugged him like a second skin. On the other hand, you couldn’t imagine him as anything more than a harmless golden retriever.

“Don’t ask as if you don’t know Jensen,” Aisha groused. You could practically hear her roll her eyes. 

“What’s your name, darling?” another guy spoke. He exuded the energy of a leader; you looked him straight in the eyes and gave him your name. 

The golden retriever repeated your name as if to try out the taste of it on his tongue. You gave him a lopsided, close-mouthed smile and asked Aisha for her teammates’ names. 

“You don’t need to learn their names.” She stalked off, unwilling to be a part of the conversation any longer. 

The guy you had assumed was the leader sighed at her attitude before introducing himself as ‘Clay’. He pointed at each person and gave you their titles. 

“Okay so you’re Clay, that’s Cougar, Roque,” you skipped over Jake, “and Pooch.” 

“Me?” Jake softly inquired.

The rest of the team began picking up their things and walking away, but not before Pooch nudged Jensen with his shoulder and winked. The puppy-like man flushed in response and rubbed the nape of his neck.

“What about you?” you asked once you were alone. 

“You didn’t say my name.” 

“I know it’s Jake… but can I call you ‘daddy’ instead?” 

He froze up, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Relax Jakey,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m only teasing.” You winked and strutted away, snickering to yourself at how he looked like he was about to pass out.

The entire team was trying to egg you and Jensen on. Well, not the entire team. 

Aisha and Roque couldn’t care less, and Cougar did nothing more than smirk at your playful banter. 

Often, Jensen would start a conversation that would escalate quickly, your witty dialogue interrupting his rationale. You thought it was adorable how he didn’t know how to respond; a guy like him could have fantastic game, but he was too much of a sweetheart, not the mention, way too awkward. 

One particular night, you let down your guard, just enough to actually get to know him. 

“You seem like a really supportive uncle,” you commented at his excitement for his niece’s next soccer game. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. I wish my parents would have done this for me.”

“Done what?”

“You know… Tell me they’re proud of me.”

“Well Jake... I think you should know, that I’m proud of you for everything you’re doing for the country.”

Jake looked up at you, sporting the signature look of the uncertainty of how to respond. It didn’t take a genius to be able to tell that he wasn’t used to being praised. 

“Thank you. That means a lot more than you know,” he quietly responded. 

The rest of the night was spent in a solemn, yet understanding silence, one that both of you were oddly comfortable with. 

Unfortunately, that would also be the last time you saw him. 

Or so you think. 

The mission went sour, and for the first time since retirement, you wished you had assisted. Maybe if you assisted, the mission wouldn’t have gone south. Maybe if you assisted... you would have been able to say goodbye. 

Without even realizing it, Jake had burrowed a little hole into your heart. You hoped life could go on with the little leak in your pump. Regardless, there is no time for sulking; after all, no amount of reminiscing would change the way things happened.

It had been months after Aisha and the team went back into hiding but you were faring well. Life as you knew it had continued without a trace of the burly, soft man-baby. You almost forgot about the ordeal, up until that day. Perhaps it was fate that had you switch the TV on at that time. You would never know.

A team of rogue CIA agents, presumed to be dead, have now infiltrated a crime branch operating within the US government. They have been pardoned from their status as “Enemies of State” but can no longer work for the CIA taskforce, as their identities have been indefinitely compromised. 

You blinked at the screen, watching Aisha’s name and picture appear. Subsequently, there was Clay, Pooch, Jensen, Cougar and Roque. You were happy for them.

Pooch could go back home to his wife. It was hard to imagine what it must have been like for the missus; pregnant and alone. Though you didn’t know Pooch that well, you knew he was a good partner and husband. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your front door shutting and clicking in place. Your hand frantically pressed the ‘volume up’ button on the TV as you hurled for the handgun under your pillow. 

Sliding to the wall beside the door, you cautiously peered into the dark hallway and made out a large figure. You huffed quietly before appearing in the doorframe with your gun pointing straight at the mystery guy. At this point, you had a good idea of who it was, but you wanted to mess with him anyway. “Hands up, and not another step forward.” 

He tried to speak, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t. speak,” you punctuated each word. Reaching for the light switch, you flipped on the hallway light. The dim light revealed your golden retriever standing there with his eyes wide open in fear. 

“Don’t shoot?” he said, like a question. 

You grinned and tucked the gun into your waistband.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I should come see you.” 

“You could have knocked, like a normal person.”

He shrugged sheepishly. 

“How do you know where I live?” you questioned. To that, he fiddled with his fingers and looked down. 

“Only Aisha knows this place. And I know she would have never told you.” You intently stared at him while leaning into the nearest wall and folding your arms.

Jake didn’t want to tell you that he had been stalking you. Every spare moment he had during the remainder of the mission was spent tracking you. After a few weeks, it felt as though you had moved on. It pained him, to say the least.

“I- uhm,” he looked up at you and took a step forward, “Hey, I just-...” He stopped when you reached for your handgun again, now wary of his intentions.

He put his hands back up. 

“I wanted to ask you out properly.”

“What do you mean ‘properly’? We were never going out, to begin with.”

Before you understood the spur of movement, Jake lunged for you and plucked the handgun out of your pyjama’s waistband, throwing it over the railing of your staircase. You tried to kick him, but he pricked you without giving you a moment to react. 

“What did you give me?” You clutched your neck in the spot he sunk the needle. 

“I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do that,” he exhaled. He tried to hold you, but you weakly pushed him off, still trying to recover from the shock of his betrayal. 

“Takes 5 minutes to really work,” he scratched his neck. 

Then there was the fight. You gave it your all but with no weapon or leverage, you were going up against 200 pounds of pure muscle who was hell-bent on restraining you for some reason. 

2 minutes into the fight, you began to really feel the effects of whatever he gave you. He point-blank caught a punch that you tried to drill into his sternum. You look up at him incredulously, unable to still believe that he was trying to take you down right now. 

At last, he snapped. 

“Listen to me,” he grasped both your hands.

You momentarily struggled, but your shoulders slumped and you gave up on trying to free your wrists. 

“How could you move on without me?” he asked, attempting to look you in your eyes. You wouldn’t meet them. 

“Jake, you are delusional! I barely had a crush on you for 5 days,” you cried, letting the wetness spread over your cheeks freely. At this point, it was clear, what he was here for. 

“You should know, those 5 days were some of the best in my 29 years of living. I want that for the rest of my life.”

“Why couldn’t you have done this like a normal person?” You finally met his eyes with an excess of tears blurring your vision. 

“You keep saying that,” he began, letting go of your arms and wiping your tears, “but you know that you and I are not normal.” Jake leaned down to kiss your forehead. 

Your legs were beginning to buckle, but Jake caught you, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He strode into your bedroom as if he had been there a thousand times, put you down on the bed gently, and brushed the hair out of your face. 

Here we have Sergeant Linwood ‘Pooch’ and his wife reuniting. It is the first time he has seen her since his last mission, before disappearing. It is also the first time he will be seeing his child. Definitely, an emotion reun-

Your captor turned off the TV and turned to smile at you.

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked, but seemed as if he were talking to himself. 

You couldn’t respond, all your muscles now refusing to attend to your demands. Instead, more tears streaked down your face. 

“A baby,” he whispered, “Yes, that would be nice.”

Masterlist

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Mr. Moreno

Chapter 3: Off-Campus Housing

Summary: Marcus decides it's time for some new scenery during your tutoring session

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, teacher x f!student, daddy kink/age kink (all parties are above the age of 18)

Word Count: 3,347!

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_________________

Life has been great!

You're getting good grades, your dad just got a promotion he's been waiting 4 years for, your psychology research was accepted to be part of the department's upcoming journal, and- most importantly- you're sleeping with your professor. Well...maybe "sleeping with" isn't the correct terminology.

The multiple rendez-vous with Mr. Moreno have consisted of him going down on you, you going down on him, your hands down each other's pants and pretty much everything except the main event. That's the one thing he won't do. Yes, you two have definitely had some fun times but he won't go past eating you out and you sucking his cock. Ever since his wife passed, he hasn't had the urge to be with another person in that way. The day he met you, things started to change.

=======

Marcus' daughter, Missy, even noticed he was acting weird that day and confronted him about it. Taking him by the hand to the living room, she sat him down on the couch, "Dad, who is she?" Immediately turning red, "W-what? Who- what are you...I don't...I'm...she's not- she's...why are you-"

"Dad" The pose she strikes radiates the sass that she definitely got from him.

A sigh passes through his lips, "She's...she's just someone I met at work-"

"Someone you LIKE!" Missy cuts him off. She has never seen her dad act this way. She's only heard the stories of how he acted around her mom before they started dating, he must really like this girl.

======

It's not that Marcus hasn't thought about having sex with you- he has and does often- the silver ring that remains on his finger, encompassing the relationship he once had, stirs up this feeling of guilt if he were to have sex with another woman. Even though he knows his late wife wants him to move on and be happy, Marcus still doesn't feel right doing so.

Thank the stars it's the end of the week! Between finishing your project for Mr. Moreno's class and conducting more research for the psychology department, you've been stressed out of your mind. Not only was this week busy, but you also have a test in one of your classes next week. At least today the university decided to give everyone a rest day and treat them to a three-day weekend, even though you're spending it by coming to campus to have Mr. Moreno look over your project. A pleased sigh leaves your lips as you enter the classroom, greeted by a grin from the leader of the Heroics, who is currently talking to one of his fellow teammates, Miracle Guy. He notices his loss of Marcus' attention, immediately realizing who you are, "Well hello there! I've heard so much about you!" If you weren't in the classroom right now, Marcus probably would have knocked him right in the chest. Instead, he turns his head slowly back towards Miracle Guy, his face plastered with a look that can only be taken as 'you need to shut up'.

Setting your bag down as your gaze meets the Heroic's, you're taken back by his last statement, "You...you have?"

"Yeah! Mr. Moreno talks about you all the time! He's always saying how his favorite student is extremely smart and well-rounded!"

Your heart pounds in your ears, hoping Miracle Guy sees past the shade of red currently radiating from your face. You glance over at Marcus and feel heat grow between your legs. If he could kill with a look, Miracle Guy would be dead on the floor right now. The intensity of his stare is enough to make you drop to your knees right there. Your gaze lingers a little too long when Marcus looks over to you and notices your lip between your teeth, his glare changes tones at the sight. The look that fills his wonderfully dark eyes, the same lust-filled look from when he peers up at you from between your legs, causes a flutter deep inside.

"Just fuck each other already!"

Both of you snap from your trance over to Miracle Guy, "What? It's so obvious you both want it! I figured with how much you talk about her, Marcus, that you were already fucking her but I-"

Marcus cuts him off, grabbing his arm and dragging him into his office as you follow with your bag. Shutting the door, Marcus pushes him down into a chair, "We HAVE done stuff." The look on Miracle Guy's face slips to a state of confusion, "But...wait....I thought you said....you told me you haven't..." a sigh passes through Marcus' lips, "We haven't had sex. But we've done other things." A blush dusts your cheeks, Miracle Guy slowly picking up on what Marcus means, "Oooohhhhhhhh....nice! See? Still know how to treat a woman even as an old man-"

"I'm not that old."

"And I really don't care about the age difference." You chime in. Both of them turn to you, "Plus, he's the only man I know that doesn't act like a twelve-year-old," you start to mumble, "Not to mention he's really sexy..."

"What was that?" Marcus leans towards you in hopes of you repeating what you just said. Miracle Guy starts to push, "Yeah I heard you say something but I couldn't tell what it was-"

"I said he's really sexy. Just because he's older doesn't mean he isn't sexy."

Marcus' face matches the embarrassed shade of your own, "You...you think I'm sexy?" Your eyes turn to meet his, "Well yeah! Have you seen yourself?" Miracle Guy remains with his jaw on the floor as the two men take in what you said. A few minutes pass before anyone says anything again, "I think I'm gonna head out. It was nice to finally meet you!" Miracle Guy reaches out to shake your hand. Reaching out to shake his, "A pleasure to meet you as well! Hopefully next time we run into each other it won't be as awkward. Thanks for not telling anyone." With a nod, he steps out of the office, leaving you and Marcus. His eyes lock on yours as he closes the distance between your bodies. Warm, strong hands gently caress your arms, his breath is hot against your ear, "So...you think I'm sexy?" His voice, deep and husky as he moves down to your neck. His teeth graze your skin, a gasp leaves your lips, "Marcus..." His name is a soft whisper filled with desperation. You move your hand up to his hair, your fingers running through each strand causing Marcus to release a low growl against your neck as he continues leaving marks. "Marcus, wait...I need you to....I came in to...-" his lips still on your neck, "Tell me baby." "Why is it so difficult to say something as easy as I came in to see if you could look at my paper?" This man has so much power over you and all he's done so far today is kiss your neck and whisper in your ear. Granted, you can't help but think of all the things he's done to you previously. Stars, you can't help but imagine how amazing he must be in bed...so strong...taking control of you...- see this? This is why he has so much power over you; you can't stop thinking of him. "Baby?" His glasses bump into your jaw as he pulls back to look at you, "What is it?"

"I came in to see if you...um...if you could look over my project?"

His look of realization as he fixes his glasses makes you giggle, "I completely forgot about that...I saw your email and everything and I was going to write you back but then Miracle Guy called and said he was coming in to visit and I got distracted but yes I would love to look over your project." Grabbing your paper out of your bag, still flustered from everything that just happened prior to this moment. Handing it to Marcus, you both take a seat at his desk. He reads over it, paying attention to every detail, biting his lip in concentration. "What the hell? Can you think about anything other than him bending you over his desk and- who are you kidding, of course you can't." He notices your gaze drifting off as he peeks up at you from your paper, "Sweetheart..." You don't hear him talking to you as your mind continues to wander, "...his hands on you...his lips on your body...with how he big he feels in your mouth imagine how he feels in your-" he tries to get your attention again, "Hello? Are you alright?" Still not hearing him, "...and his beard against your skin, especially on your neck and between your thighs..." You still don't notice him as he walks around his desk and leans back against it right in front of you, "Sweetheart, are you alright?" Finally, you come back to your senses. Feeling extremely embarrassed, your cheeks flush red, giving away exactly what was going on in your thoughts. A smirk decorates Marcus' face while he rolls up his sleeves, drawing your attention to his now exposed forearms. "What was going on in that pretty little head of yours, sweetheart?" Even though you two have done a lot together, you still avert your gaze from his, still too shy to admit the dirty thoughts you have of him...not to mention how often you think those thoughts. He gently grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to meet his eyes. Pulling you closer, Marcus' lips barely graze against yours, his breath hot on your skin. His voice drops into a low gravely tone, "Tell Daddy what you were thinking about, all those dirty thoughts that I know run through your mind...be a good girl and tell me..." Your breath leaves your body in a soft moan. Trying to collect yourself, "I was...I-I was thinking of....umm...you...your...uh..I..."

"If you tell me, I just may do it..."

A gasp powers you to kind of form a sentence, "I w-was thinking about you...and what you do to me...and the all the things you could do to me...being underneath you...nearly breaking whatever you're pounding me into..." Marcus lets out a low moan as he pulls you in and kisses you, his tongue already finding its way past your lips. The sounds you make in response cause him to press against his pants. His hands find their way into your hair and on your lower back, pulling you closer. He continues to moan as you kiss, "Damn he's so hot when he moans. Oh my STARS I want to really hear him moan" He pulls back, his hands still on you, "Baby, we should go somewhere..." slightly confused on his comment, "What? Where would we..what do you mean?" His eyes grow dark with lust again, "Some place where we won't get caught when I make you scream my name so much you forget your own..." A whimper escapes your lips faster than you can process Marcus' words. "I'll take that as a yes. Where should we go sweetheart?" You pause a moment to consider, "Well, my apartment is two minutes away. I can send you my address and you can meet me over there." Giving you another kiss before pulling back again, "Sounds like a plan. I'll be over in a few." As you fix yourself up and start to walk away, Marcus quickly reaches out, giving you a quick smack, winking at you with a cheeky grin when you turn to look back at him.

You make it to your car and back to your apartment within a few minutes. Racing inside, you see that none of your roommates are home, remembering they left for the weekend. Quickly climbing the stairs up to your room, you change your bra and underwear to the set you just bought a few days ago, put some dirty clothes in the laundry basket and make sure everything is cleaned up, not forgetting to light a nice candle to set the mood a little more. A few minutes pass and you hear a car door as a text pops up on your screen

"Come open the door, baby ;)"

Trying not to fall down the stairs as you eagerly skip steps, you finally reach the door. Doing one last appearance check, you open the door. On the other side, Marcus leans with one arm against the door frame, closing the gap between your bodies as soon as the door closes behind him. His lips almost on yours, "Where's your room?" Grabbing onto his tie, you pull him in for a kiss, "Up the stairs, the door next to the bath-" before you could finish your sentence, Marcus had you up and over his shoulder, walking up the stairs. Reaching behind him, he waves his hand and locks the door. Once he reaches your room, he lays you down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and climbing on top of you, that familiar look floods his deep eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, sweetheart." Giving him a smirk, "You have no idea how many times I've gotten myself off to the thought of you." His lips meet yours in a heated clash. Your arms find their way around his neck as his hands find the button to your jeans. Marcus pulls back to slip off your shirt before kissing down your body; on your lips, to your jaw, down your neck, down your chest, past your stomach. Carefully sliding your jeans off, he continues to kiss your body as it becomes exposed. Soft whimpers from you and groans from Marcus fill the room, his lips never leaving your skin. His teeth grab onto your thigh, forcing a loud moan to escape from your throat. Marcus peers up at you with that infamous look of his, "Ooo, baby likes that, doesn't she?" He bites down on you again, getting the same reaction as before, "You sound so pretty. So good for me." His words only turn you on more. "P-please....please....I..I-I need..." He moves back up to your face, "What is it sweetheart?" You moan breathily in his ear, "I need you. Please, Mr. Moreno..." The groan that comes from his lips makes you even hotter for him, your wetness growing rapidly. Even in class, when you call him "Mr. Moreno", your innocent voice masking your filthy intent, his zipper threatens to break from how hard his cock gets. Burying his face in your neck, Marcus' mustache scratching against your delicate skin, "Say it again," his voice dropping to a growl, "say my name again." His hips begin to create friction between your legs while he awaits your response. The things this man does to you, you feel as if you could get off just from him grinding into you as his voice resonates through your soul. Biting the bottom of your ear, he forces sounds to escape your lips but no words can form, "Come on, baby. Be a good girl for me"

"Mr. Moreno, pleeeaaassee"

His lips travel back down your body as he begins to pull you apart, thread by thread. Settling back between your thighs, his hot breath sends a shiver through you. His tongue licks through your folds, already drenched and melting in his touch. "Already so wet for me, baby" he slips two fingers inside you, "How often have you gotten yourself off to the thought of me, baby?" A moan brings an answer to your lips, "All the time...I think about you all the time....think about you touching me...your strong arms around my waist...your hands on me...you-your fingers...doing..."

"Doing this?"

A curve in his fingers guides you closer to the edge. His name escapes your mouth in a chant, the only word your mind can conjure. The sounds you sing only make his aching stronger and stronger until he snaps, "Baby, I need to be inside of you." Your head moves to meet his eyes as he carefully takes his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth. A groan rumbles through his chest as he cleans them off, keeoing eye contact the entire time. Biting your lip, you hold back a moan as you watch Marcus undress before you, taking in the jaw-dropping sight of his naked body. You sit up and crawl to meet him at the foot of the bed, your hands discovering his skin, your lips are soft against his tanned and toned chest. His hands gently push against your shoulders, "As nice as that feels, there's something tighter I wanna feel around me. Be a good girl and lay back for Daddy." The growl sounding like a command, you do as he tells you. Climbing on top of you, his hands land on either side of your head, dragging your focus up his flexed muscles and to his lustful eyes. You can see the hesitation behind his prowling gaze. Arms and legs wrapping around him, "It's alright, Marcus. I want you inside of me." Quickly wrapping himself with you still hanging on him, he lines his cock up with your dripping entrance, carefully pushing into you. Moans rip through your apartment as he takes it slow, easing you onto his size. "I'm gonna start moving, alright baby?" You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, "Okay. I'm ready."

Easing himself out of you so it's only the tip of his cock left inside, he pushes in slightly harder than before, still adjusting to you, "Ugh....your so tight baby...so tight for Daddy...so wet..." His lips entertain the delicate skin of your neck,your moans and whimpers echoing in his ears, flipping a switch that send his hips into a faster pace. The skin about his cock passes over your clit with every thrust, taking you higher and higher. Your eyes meet as he moves his head back, your lips grazing as you pant against each other. Marcus leans into you depper than before, his mouth meeting yours just in time to swallow the yelp that soars from you. His tongue dancing on your lips, begging for entrance. Parting them slightly, he groans at the feel of you. His kisses travel to your jaw before his lips guide his breath against your ear, "Good girl. Moan for me, baby. Your sound make me want to fuck you until you can only think of me...what I do to you...how much I stretch you..." His husky voice rattles you to the core, clenching tight around his cock. "I'm gonna...please let me come, sir." Marcus pulls back again to look into your eyes, "Come for me, baby. Come for Daddy. You're such a good girl for me." Your climax slams into you at his words just as he chases his release.

Rolling onto his back, he pulls you to his chest, "That...that was...I haven't done that in forever. Was it okay?" You turn your head up to look at him, "Okay? Marcus that was the best sex I've ever had! You really know how to treat a woman." You both chuckle, "Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But..um...what you said earlier about me to Miracle Guy..."

"Y-yes?"

"Is it true?"

"Marcus, I wouldn't lie about that. You're really fucking sexy."

"Honey you're too-"

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

*buzzzzz*

Marcus' phone begins to ring. Reaching over carefully as not to disturb your comfortable position, he answers it. Still trying to catch his breath, "Hello?"

"Hey pal, it's Miracle Guy. Make sure you turn off your talk to text next time you and hot stuff get together"

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #pedro pascal simp #pedro pascal #we can be heroes #marcus moreno fic #professor x student #mr. moreno series #marcus moreno smut

[mc-critical]

What are your thoughts on on how Hatice handled Esmanur? Do you think Ibrahim had a right to a relationship with Esmanur given what he had done to Hatice? Do you think there was even a morally correct way to handle the situation? Admittedly until this day I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. I truly hated Ibrahim for cheating on Hatice and she had every right to feel everything she has felt, and she refused to kill or hurt Esmanur and even allowed Nigar/Ib to see her, but I remember Ibrahim wanting more and it makes me wonder if that was realistic or even possible..

I certainly find Ibrahim's infidelity to be one of his worst actions: I know that despite of Hatice pulling rank on him out of ignorance and not malice, it hurt him a lot to hear what he heard from one of his most loved people and I get why he may feel alienated and want to distance himself from Hatice for a little bit, but he took it way too far at some point, both deluding Nigar and upsetting Hatice in the process. I disliked how he didn't even want to listen to what his wife had to say most of the time and didn't tell her anything at all. It all went way past Hatice pulling rank in that one scene in E29 (in which also Ibrahim didn't answer anything to Hatice's accusations even before she uttered these words - I get that he was simply in shock that she would ever accuse him of infidelity like this, but Ibrahim's silence only made matters worse.) and I'm sorry, but yes, she had the absolute right to feel how she felt and I stand behind her much more than I do Ibrahim in this, even though both motivations are perfectly understandable.

I honestly think Hatice acted in the best way she knew how when it came to Esmanur: in her decision, she regarded both her position as a member of the dynasty and a part of the family and strived to do as little harm as she possibly could. Because according to law, she could've killed all three and Valide Hafsa had the exact same fear and imagined it in her head when she went to SS in E58. Not to mention that SS left the decision to Hatice alone and he said that he wouldn't oppose whatever she decided. She could've freely ended their lives and no one could really judge her for it, but she chose not to. Secretly hiding Esmanur and especially lying to Nigar that her daughter was dead was definetly a shady move, but I guess that she considered that some kind of punishment was in order. The infidelity got to her dynastic pride and dignity in a massive way and that's why she refused to accept the daughter for so long and decided to rather hide her, pretend she didn't exist, yet still have someone care for her far away. Ibrahim also wrote her a letter where he said that he didn't regret anything and that broke Hatice's heart even more and put her in denial in her persistent insistence for him to burn it.

Hatice's arc about forgiving Ibrahim in relation to the Esmanur storyline developed in two levels: first she wanted for them to begin anew by themselves, without anyone else around, then she wanted for them to begin anew with Esmanur, too, hence again, dynastic pride and family values clash once again with each other in Hatice and find their resolve. She let Ibrahim see Esmanur, but it took her a while to do that: because is it easy to accept the daughter of another woman? Not to mention how in some moments Ibrahim seemed to value her more than his kids with Hatice, because he considered her as something out of the dynasty's hand, that could be fully his and that even resembled his own past self to some extent. She was the daughter of Teo, the fisherman in Parga, not of the grand vezier Ibrahim Pasha, the position that puts so many expectations on the person who wields it. That's why he always demanded more and that's also why Hatice showed so much resistence at first: to her, he not only violates the laws of the dynasty, but tarnishes the honor of the family and puts it in such an awkward position. Because Hürrem is right in that Esmanur, the sweet little girl, would be the walking reminder of the infidelity and what Hatice and Ibrahim have gone through, and that's the very thing they want to somehow get over. To Hatice, if the daughter ever comes in her own home, it would make the recovery from the situation much harder. Because she wants to forgive Ibrahim, but to do that, she has to get over some deep seated beliefs of her own.

When some time passed, when both slowly seemed to go back to normal, she was ready to accept her, underlined in her going to see her. Here she fully takes Ibrahim's feelings into account: she realized how much that daughter means to him and since a child is one of the biggest family values, too, to her (as seen in her consistently strong wish to have a child in her desired family throughout S01 and S02, along with her earlier biggest losses being losses of children), she can go as far as accept it in her home, to start over as a new, better, more stable family and have the wishes of both her and Ibrahim be fulfilled accordingly. But the needs of both once again clash and the roles reverse: because now Ibrahim doesn't want to have her in their home, but to have more than that, to go in his own accord in order to still preserve what he values the most about this daughter, along with his fatherly love for her. Hatice and Ibrahim succeed to truly start over only when they find a compromise in the front of Esmanur, as well - for Ibrahim to go see her when he wants (and give her to Matrakcı), but not to have her in Hatice's home and I find that the most moral solution of the issue, when it comes to the time period, his crime and Ibrahim himself.

Still, that's my opinion and I don't think a true moral solution can be offered, again judging by both the infidelity and the time period, which makes the situation even more iffy and complicated. The moral solution I would chose when it comes to Nigar would be for Matrakcı to give her the location of the daughter after Ibrahim's death for her to go there and live with Esmanur in piece. As I mentioned in the ask about Nigar as a whole, I consider this the perfect narrative send-off for her character, as well: a happy ending she absolutely deserves. Her efforts to find and permanetly take her daughter in her arms would finally pay off and she would preserve a memory of what she sees as the best moments of her life. Enough time would have passed for her to have "paid" for her crime, so I think it would be just for her to find happiness eventually.

[Side note: Plot and drama convenience aside, I believe Matrakcı didn't tell Nigar where her daughter is because of deep or maybe already subconscious resentment of Nigar after he divorced her right in their marriage's first night and the whole "horn on his door" situation happening. Yes, he logically has to resent Ibrahim for this, because he caused it in the first place, but I always felt that like Nigar, Matrakcı had such tremendous loyalty for Ibrahim that he idealized him. And even when he called him out on his methods both in the horn situation and the beggining of S03, he eventually let it slide and held no grudge. He refused to talk to Nigar whatsoever after the horn incident and he told her some very harsh words when he was drunk and it's very possible that he didn't let it go completely. They have broken his heart when it came to love (Sadıka) and it's also possible that this may have hardened him or he simply loves Ibrahim that much to blame him for stuff for long or maybe internalized mysoginy? It's solely a theory of mine (and the internalized mysoginy part may be a stretch), but it would make sense.]

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #hatice sultan #ibrahim pasha #nigar kalfa #esmanur #ask #stuffandthangs

[mudhornchronicles]

maroon | din djarin

gif posted by sledposting 

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: all the fluff, soft!din but then i said sike... angst, mentions of death and violence, also mentions of... sexual encounters?

a/n: lowkey wanna make into a series, but idk if someone has done this. if so, i do apologize. 

masterlist

“You best learn how to weave, girl. A husband wouldn’t be caught dead wearing tattered clothing, let alone a Mandalorian riduur.”

“You must wear much more layered clothing. A Mandalorian riduur wants a respectable woman at his side.”

“Learn these recipes and maybe you’ll find yourself a Mandalorian riduur.”

You’ve grown tired of hearing this every day, but you sit back and simply nod. Mandalore may have not been your birth planet, but they took care of you after your father and brother both fell valiantly in battle. You were on your own after that. Your mother was not a Mandalorian, she was originally from Naboo. When your father was called back to Mandalore to assist in the ceremonial trials, your mother decided it was time she left. She said she was promised a tranquil life with the clan of four on Naboo, but the creed had to be followed. You have not heard from her since you were 7 years old.

Now as you’ve come to an age of maturity, you were being trained to… be a wife? 

You sat back and obeyed the elders wishes, but you knew that their rants were not true - not in the slightest. Your father never depended on your mother to do anything for him. Because of that, he taught you how to defend yourself and be independent. Although your father was devoted to The Way, he did not want you to swear the creed. Not because you were incapable, but because he did not want you to go through life with the restrictions that the creed entails. Even if you wanted to rebel against your loving father’s wishes, you were not able to be properly trained nor swear the creed at such a late age. So, you were content with being a member of the Mandalorian culture as a civilian.

You sat at a table that the elders reserved for the women who taught young ladies how to sew, heal, cook, and take care of the warriors in training. Whether it was a torn cape or a sparring injury, you were there to help. You always believed you didn’t need to be there as you already knew how to do it all, but the view made up for it. The table was set up on the outer boundaries of the sand pit they called a sparring arena. You got to see young Mandalorians train their bodies and minds by lessons taught by the elders. As many Mandalorians came and went, your eyes were always set on a specific foundling you met many years ago. You sympathized with that warrior when you first noticed his colored armor. You had a crafted bracelet in a similar color – a deep red, a maroon to be precise.

All Mandalorian armor was painted, but each general color had deeper meaning. For example, blue represented the reliability of the warrior, green represented duty, black represented justice, and grey or silver represented mourning.

Red represented the honoring of a parent or leader.

You watched as the two warriors, one in green armor and yours in the maroon, sparred while the other Mandalorians watched and rallied around their fighting brothers. After 10 minutes, the maroon pinned the green down and was declared the winner. The elders at your table clapped and you can’t help but smile and cheer along.

As the noise settles down, you ask to be excused from the table and wait for their approval. Once the oldest member examines your finished shawl, she excuses you for the day. You clean up your yarn and needles, place them and your newly knitted shawl in your basket, and thank them for the day’s lesson. You turn and notice the maroon armored figure standing with his brothers as a new pair of Mandalorians prepare for their turn at combat.

You walk over and stand next to him, basket in your left hand and proceed to place your right hand on his pauldron. He looks over at you and tilts his helmet as he acknowledges you. You mouth a simple hi and a small wave, not wanting to distract him from the scene in front of him.

“Hello, cyar’ika.”

You smile as he turns and holds your right hand in his left. “How was today’s lesson?”

You shrug, rolling your eyes and letting out a small laugh. “Oh you know, learning what I already know. The usual.”

He chuckles at your visible annoyance at the uniformed program you’re practically forced to attend. “Are you finished or are the elders letting you breathe?”

You just can’t help but always smile at every word that comes out of his mouth. “I’m very much finished for the day. Are you?”

“Yes, Paz and I were just asked to demonstrate a sparring technique. Would you like to go for a walk?”

You nod excitedly. He gives your hand a light squeeze and asks you to stay where you are. You watch him as he strides over to one of the elders watching over the training session to what you assume is asking for permission to leave. The elder simply nods and goes back to observing the trainees.

Your Mandalorian leads you to an escarpment not far from the main town – not far by speeder bike that is. You both called it our place. As far as you both knew, no one had known about the place. The ground is scattered with sand and cracks, but the pair are protected from unwanted visitors by an oddly bent acacia tree and nothing beats the view. The capital can be seen far out in the distance, seeming small and faded. You looked down from the cliff to the ground below. You took notice that the ground had small traces of grass while the trees began to dry and then to your luck, you spotted a strill dragging the corpse of a fanned rawl back to its pack. 

You step back from the edge and walk back to the tree. Your beloved unclips his cape and places it on the ground for you both to sit on – despite your countless protest about getting it dirty and tears. He proceeds to take a seat in the middle of his cape and places his hands on your waist. You take the hint and take a seat on his lap. He wraps his arms around your body and lay on him and he leans back on the thick trunk of the tree.

You quietly stay like this for what feels like hours, just holding onto each other. You two rarely get alone time anymore as his training has begun to be much more advanced. More advanced means longer training hours and longer training hours mean less time with you. Mandalore has nineteen hour days and the elders now have him train for six which means you barely get to talk to him and he barely gets to breathe. 

You change positions to lay on the ground with your head on his thighs. He starts to play with your hair, but suddenly lets the strand of hair go. He leans over to grab your hand. He begins to play with your fingers and places his palm straight onto yours just to feel how different his hands are from your own. He did always say he loved your hands – soft and caring.

He loves holding your hand. He loves caressing it. He loves playing with them. He loves how they look when in his.

When you’re in the safety of your home, he blindfolds you and  loves it when you play with his hair.

When you make love, he loves when you run your hands down his chest and on his biceps as he thrusts up into you. He loves when you grip his arms while you’re riding him and he brings you close to euphoria or when his body is over yours and your hands press down on his back to beg for him to go deeper.

He’s gone a long time without having gentle hands touch him. You were the first person he let touch his bare hands since his parents died. 

His helmet tilts over to you and you look up to him. He sits and stares at you and you unsuccessfully stifle a laugh. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta.” He says quietly. So quietly you feel as if it wasn’t meant for your ears.

You situate yourself onto your knees and cradle the side of his helmet in one hand and hold his own hand in the other. “I love you too, Din. More than anything in the entire galaxy.”

You’ve been in a romantic relationship with Din for five years and you’ve heard those words a total of seven times. You savor every time he speaks them as it sounds like utter bliss to you.

“Ner kar’ta, I- I’d like to gift something to you, but I must know something first.”

“You can ask me anything, cyare.”

“I know I don’t tend to express my feelings and you may be thinking this is going to be a negative talk, but I promise it’s not.”

“I know it isn’t, my love. Even if it was, you’re not going anywhere.”

He chuckles at this and he nods. You know this is serious when his visor isn’t on your face.

“Mesh’la… Do you wa- Are you sure you…” he stops and clears his throat. “Cyare, do you plan on wanting to be stay? With me? I know we never talked about this, but I just thought it was time to bring it up.”

“Are you asking me if I want to stay by your side for the rest of my life, Din?”

He nods.

“Din, love, of course I want to be with you. We’ve only touched the surface. There’s so much left to do. You still haven’t given me a piece of your armor, we haven’t done a riduurok, and we haven’t raised warriors! You aren’t getting rid of me!” you joke.

He stays silent and you begin to think you may have gone too far. He opens one of his pouches on his belt. Your mind is saying he pulled out the blindfold he always carries for you to kiss you, but your heart wishes it’s something else.

Your heart wins.

He offers you a necklace. It consists of a maroon colored beskar ring clinging to a chain – his beskar. Before he can say anything, you jump on him and wrap your arms around him. He laughs and gives you a squeeze.

“I had a speech prepared, but I’d be very happy if I didn’t have to read it,” he sarcastically says. You can’t stop the tears running down your cheeks as you shake your head while you tell him he doesn’t have to. You know what he’s going to say and you know he’s going to stutter and shake. You know how much he loves you. You don’t need to hear him say it as his actions spoke volumes.

“I knew you didn’t lose your buckle to Paz! You rather lose me than your armor!”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’d rather lose my sponsorship then you.”

You playfully shove him. “Di’kut.” You grab your drink from your basket and take a swig from the cold liquid.

“Cyar’ika, w- would you like to marry me? Right now?”

You almost choke. You look at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Is it too soon?”

You shake you head. “No, no it’s been five years. The elders probably think we’re crazy.” You both share a laugh. “But, if you’re ready Din, then yes. I’d love to marry you right now.”

He stands and helps you up. He grabs the chained ring and places it around your neck. You look down and the ring falls beautifully next to the other necklace you wear, a nexu signet - your father’s clan. You reach up and bring his head down to yours as you connect your foreheads together. As Mandalorian culture states, the warrior must begin the riduurok and every phrase must be said by each to be vowed.  

Din’s hands are shaking, you can feel them. He clears his voice, but it does little to stop it from cracking.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus d-dar’tome”

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome”

“M-Mhi me’dinui an”

“Mhi me’dinui an”

“mhi ba’juri ver-“

You feel his forehead leave yours and you open your eyes. You follow his gaze and your heart sinks. Far out in the distance you see imperial ships slowly coming through the clouds. You see bright red light coming from the capital and you begin to panic. You know he has to go fight. As much as you don’t want him to, there’s no debate. 

You both run to collect everything. He stops to look at you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I promise that I-“ you stop him and bring his forehead down again.

“It is your duty to Mandalore, Din. I know you’ll protect us and you’ll come back to me. Promise me you’ll fight with everything in you. I can’t lose you too.”

“I promise.”

With that you pack the speeder and ride back into town, although as the war begins, you wished you had just taken Din away and ran.

Blaster shot after blaster shot. Dead body after another. The cries of children and the screaming of mothers trying to find their babies.

You hear a Mandalorian usher women and children into life-ships, each with two Mandalorians escorts. You get rushed closer and closer to one when you catch Din in the corner of your eye.

You run to him as you hear your name being called out by the other women. Din sees you and tackles you down. He pins you against a wall yelling at you to get into a ship and go. You put your hands on each side of his helmet. Both of you are crying wishing this was only a nightmare. 

“Din, please promise me you’ll find me. Promise me you’ll make it out of here and come back to me. I can’t live without you. Please promise me.”

His visor is trained on you as you hold onto each other tighter than ever. “I promise I’ll find you and when I do, we’ll properly marry and I’ll take you far away from here so we can start our own clan. Ner kar’ta, I promise you this with my entire being.”

A promise sealed with a keldabe kiss. He runs with you towards a ship. You both ask escorts where the ship is going. No one knows. You try running out of the ship, but Din only pushes you back in. You hear him tell you how much he loves you before he jumps off the ship right when the ramp starts to move. You sob as the ramp closes until the view of your maroon-clad love is completely gone.

Little did you know that the war zone you had just witnessed was the fall of Mandalore and the last time you’d see the love of your life for many years to come.

update (1.1.21): Part two to Maroon has been posted - Saguine

 mando’a translations:

riduur = spouse, husband, wife, partner

cyar’ika = darling, sweetheart

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = I love you

ner kar’ta = my heart

mesh’la = beautiful

riduurok = love bond, specifically between spouses - marriage agreement

cyare = beloved

di’kut = idiot

Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde. = We are one whether we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors.

ni ceta = i’m sorry 

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #maroon

[vasiktomis]

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

#far cry 5 #john seed #cora stammos #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x female deputy #all hail cora's big fucking muscles #no beta we die like men

[babygirlizz]

izzie’s favorite movies and tv shows of 2020 (aka the worst year ever)

another year, another movie and tv show review. this year has, to put it simply, sucked. 2020 has been so terribly awful that sometimes the only light you can see are the absolute bangers of movies and tv shows that came out this year. with that being said, some of the movies and tv shows didn't come out in 2020. if the are mentioned in this post it is because they either: had a season come out this year, i found them this year, or they became popular this year.

SPOILERS: it may not come as a surprise but just in case you didn't realize, there will be many spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

tw // death, suicide, drug use, mild adult language. if any of these things might trigger you, i strongly urge you not to read this post.

there is no specific order of these shows and movies, i'm just writing as they come to mind. if you enjoy any of these movies or tv shows, or if you have any suggestions for me, please let me know!

TV SHOWS

1) Santa Clarita Diet

Okay, so I know this show doesn't have anything to do with 2020. But, I found this show in 2020. I put it off for a while, thinking it wasn't my style of a show, but boy was I wrong. I loved this show. Sheila Hammond (Drew Barrymore) is a normal suburban wife and mom. She is a real estate agent with her husband Joel (Timothy Olyphant). She struggles with the fact that she isn't very adventurous. This all changes when she throws up an insane amount at a house showing. She then finds herself craving adventure, and craving human flesh. Yeah, she's a zombie. Not only is this show super hilarious, but it also shows the growth that they have with their characters and their family. I'm also team Abby (Liv Hewson) and Eric (Skyler Gisondo).

2) Outer Banks

So, I'm from NC. And, watching this show at first bothered me because I can very obviously tell this show isn't actually filmed in the obx, and the geography isn't exact, but once I got past that, I loved it. John B (Chase Stokes) is a teenager that lives in the poor side of the outer banks. He has a friend group called the Pogues which consists of JJ (Rudy Pankow), Pope (Jonathan Daviss), and Kie (Madison Bailey). They absolutely hate the Kooks, which are the rich kids. A while after John B's dad gets lost at sea, presumed dead, the group finds some evidence that may solve the mystery, and make them rich. In the process, John B falls in love with a Kook names Sarah (Madelyn Cline) whose father Ward (Charles Esten) may have a little more to do with the mystery than he let on. Through friendship, murder, and secrets, the gang may just figure out what happened to John B's dad.

3) Love, Victor

Alright. I loved loved loved Love, Simon. I also really loved the book "Simon vs. the Homosapien Agenda." So, when I heard about this show, I was so excited. Victor (Michael Cimino) is a teenage boy that moved to Creekwood with his family. He meets Felix (Anthony Turpel) who lives in his building. He also meets Mia (Rachel Hilson) and they begin dating. But, he also meets Benji (George Sear). While trying to get used to a new school, new friends, and a new relationship, Victor finds himself questioning his sexuality. With the help of Simon (Nick Robinson) and his friends, Victor finds it in himself to finally come out, and he admits his feelings, for Benji. This is such a good show, but I was so upset when season 1 ended on a cliff-hanger.

4) The Haunting of Bly Manor

The sequel to The Haunting of Hill House. Now listen, haunting of hill house was an absolute banger. When I saw that Bly came out I nearly died. I was so excited. But, I was alone in my apartment and also a lil bitch. So, I had to wait a week until I was home with my family to watch it. Now, I was so excited to be scared, and there were a few jump scares and ominous moments, but this season was more centered around the story line of Dani Clayton (Victoria Pedretti) and her new life in a foreign country. When seeing an ad for a live in job as an au pair. When she gets there, she meets the two young children she’ll be looking out for and the other workers of the house, including the gardener, Jamie (Amelia Eve). Throughout her stay at Bly she begins to notice weird behaviors from both children and by the end of the series she sacrifices herself for the children. Sadly, this story is being told by Jamie who Dani had fallen in love with during her stay at Bly. Now I was somewhat upset about the lack of horror, but was still very intrigued and drawn in by this series.

5) Julie and the Phantoms

Alright, at first I was not gonna watch this show. I thought it looked a little too young and childish for me, but everyone was talking about it on twitter so I had to. I. Love. This. Show. This show centers around Julie (Madison Reyes). Julie is a teenage girl who, sadly, lost her mother. The one major thing she shared with her mom, was their love for music. Since her mothers passing, she gave up music. This is until, dead musicians from the 90′s show up in her garage. Luke (Charlie Gillespie), Alex (Owen Joyner), and Reggie (Jeremy Shada) all tragically passed away in the 90′s after eating bad street hotdogs. When Julie finds their CD in her garage, she decides to play it and they come back in ghost form. But, only she can see them. With their help, she finds her confidence to play music again. Also, she has to find away for them to stay because they’re slowly disappearing. 

6) Derry Girls

Bitch. I love this show. And yeah it didn’t come out in 2020. Shut up. I found this show recently after watching the cast on the holiday special of the Great British Baking Show. I loved the actors so I had to watch the show. This show focuses on Erin (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) a 16 year old girl that lives in Derry, Northern Ireland in the 90′s. Alongside her is her cousin Orla (Louisa Harland), her two friends Clare (Nicola Coughlan) and Michelle (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell), and Michelle’s English cousin James (Dylan Llewellyn). During these years, a lot of people in Ireland struggled, especially because it was during wartime. Even thought this show isn’t focused heavily around the war, it’s amazing to see these teens live a fulfilling life while struggling with the state of their country, and the lack of money that their families have. 

7) Elite

HA. This show did have a season in 2020 so leave me alone. But bro, I love this show. At first, I didn’t watch it because I thought I could only watch the dubbed version in English, which I hate. I hate dubbed shows they look so weird. But, once I found out I could watch this show in Spanish, I fell in love. But, sadly, theres too damn much to talk about in one little post. It’s crazy. But basically it just follows the lives of teens in high school that are trying to survive. And no, not in the “I’m surviving high school,” sense. No, people be getting murdered. 

MOVIES (tbh i didn’t find a lot of movies good this year lmk which movies u liked this year and maybe i’ll like them!)

1) All the Bright Places

After the death of her sister, Violet (Elle Fanning) is devastated. She closes herself off, and has her parents get her out of doing school work that involves working with others. But, as time goes on, they realize she may need to start to move on. Violet then meets Finch (Justice Smith) who is enamored by Violet. He suggests they do a project together. While finding and visiting some of the smallest wonders of their state, they begin to fall for each other. While you are focusing on Violet and her mental health, you tend to miss some of the signs that Finch’s mental health isn’t great either, but by the time you do, it could be too late. 

2) Dangerous Lies

Hmm. This was weird for me. I had only ever seen Camila Mendes in Riverdale, and honestly, not a fan. So, Katie (Camila Mendes) and her husband Adam (Jessie T. Usher) are struggling with money. Katie decides to take a job working for an elderly man, and eventually gets her husband hired there as well. Unfortunately, he dies, but for some odd reason, leaves the house and all of his fortune, to Katie. As they get comfortable in the house, they begin to uncover some very weird and dangerous lies. 

3) The Devil All the Time

Ok. Iconic. You got so many hot men in this movie. Bill Skarsgård, Sebastian Stan, Tom Holland, Robert Pattinson. C’mon now. That’s crazy. But, this story is so long and in depth that I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This movie is a bit disturbing. It involves murder, sexual assault, killing of animals, and so much more so if that’s an issue for you please do not watch this movie. It was also quite long, but it was still good.

4) After We Collided

Okay just listen. I was that teenager. I read wattpad stories and was, embarrassingly, addicted to After. This was not a great movie per say, but it was After. This is a sequel to the movie After. This movie centers around Tessa (Josephine Langford) and her recovery after her breakup with Hardin (Hero Fiennes Tiffin). Theres sex, alcohol, bad acting. The whole nine-yards. But c’mon, they’re so cute together.

5) To All the Boys p.s. I Still Love You

Okay it was a good movie. I enjoyed it. This movie focuses on Lara Jean (Lana Condor) and her boyfriend Peter (Noah Centineo) and their relationship post the first movie. But of course relationships aren’t super steady, and John Ambrose McClaren (Jordan Fisher) shows up. Yeah, John Ambrose, from her letter. They become closer and Lara Jean has to decide who she wants to be with. Spoiler, it’s Peter. BOOOOOOO justice for John Ambrose McClaren, he deserved better. 

#santa clarita diet #outer banks #john b #jj maybank #pope #kie #obx #love victor #victor x benji #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #julie and the phantoms #julie x luke #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #owen joyner #derry girls #erin x james #elite #ander x omar #nadia x guzman #all the bright places #dangerous lies #the devil all the time #tom holland #sebastian stan #robert pattinson #bill skasgård #after we collided #hero fiennes tiffin

[httphonsool]

unpleasantly peasant

synopsis; in which king agust d is a backstabbing brother, and he just wants a wife he can control, but min yoongi doesn’t think he likes either of those ideas very much.

word count; 8.4k

time taken; too bloody long

warnings; cutting, blood, people die, heartbreak, angst, sexual activity is mentioned a few times, reader curses out a servant, yeah i think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anything else

notes; this was supposed to be out much earlier, a few months earlier actually, I’ve spent too long on this and I still feel that I could have done better, however I will be writing more often now, my serenity series is on hold for now, I’m writing a spy!jungkook au which I think you guys may be interested in ! Anyway I hope you guys like this, let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see me write.

-

Seven years ago…

 “You’re a bloody bastard, I swear on God,” Min Yoongi spits.

“And you are not the king.”

“But I should be…you were illegitimate, your mother left you at the feet of the throne, she was not married to our father yet you were still born, you have no fucking right!” Yoongi cries, pain evident, sliding his sword out of its sheath and slicing a cut down his brother’s eye.

And all he gets in return is a laugh, right in his face; just before two guards come take hold of Min Yoongi’s arms

“I told you. You are not the king. I make the decisions.”

“The fuck is wrong with you!? I took you in, took care of you, and loved you when no one else did! Even our father rejected you and I still loved you! You were my brother!” Min Yoongi bawls while he struggles to get out of the guards’ grips.

“And that’s why he’s dead. And you’ll be dead soon too. So I’d run if I were you, you’re being given the chance.”

“I hope the woman you wish to marry is the one that stabs you in the back the hardest. Though, I’d be surprised if you are still alive by the time that happens,” and that’s the last thing Min Yoongi is able to spit at his brother before he’s thrown out of his own home.

He doesn’t know when, or how, but he will seek out his revenge.

But right now his name was forgotten in a series of memories a woman would seek to delve in and retain many years later.

 Seven years later…

 Agust sits on his throne, lazing around, immersing himself in the golden, intoxicating paradise he unrightfully owns, one ear listening to the names of women whom he could marry, the other ear listening to his greed, smiling at the treasure around him.

“Kim Eunha, she…your majesty?” his advisor asks.

“No, tell me something else. I do not want hear about women, why marry one when I can be unmarried and have them all?” Agust chuckles, chuckles turning into full blown laughter. Oh, how obscene King Agust is.

Silence is marred by the filthy sound of footsteps and heavy panting

Loud footsteps carry across the throne room, a breathless man’s voice echoing and bouncing off of the walls.

“My lord, dear, there is a kingdom, in the far off land, they need our troops. They are willing to…” A small, pudgy man curled on the floor forces out, “they are willing to send you their daughter, her hand in marriage,”

“How far is this kingdom?” Agust asks.

“Twenty-one days, sir, we can make it in nineteen if we lessen breaks in between,” the man pants out.

“How old is this daughter of theirs?”

“Just turned twenty.” Ah, the poor girl is four years younger, so innocent, so pure, what a shame her purity will now be tainted.

It’s a shame she is having to give her freedom away this quick, but then again, not everyone is as lucky as to be as free as King Agust.

Not everyone is that obscene either.

And exactly nineteen days later Agust is circling around a fair maiden, examining closely her beauty, every inch of her skin.

And God this kingdom did not disappoint with their women, especially this princess.

Not a speck marking her skin, no flaws, she was perfect in every sense, in every glance, and that is what made the decision. Agust would provide the kingdom support, and power, in return, he would be gifted the kingdom’s first, and only, princess.

Agust doesn’t care about how the woman (barely a woman) feels- for him her beauty is enough to capture his attention more than any other woman has or ever will.

It’s like someone has hit him with a rock: he’s in shock with the pure, unmarred sight of her, his inside coiling in pleasure at the thought of marrying her.

Who cares if Agust didn’t want to marry? He does now.

Maybe it’s the way she looks, maybe it’s her posture, the pure innocence she radiates, but he, the King, truly, really, wants her, more than he has ever wanted anything ever before.

How sweet, how pure, is love at first sight?

In most cases, it does not get sweeter than the bliss you feel in a peaceful spring afternoon, for others it does not become bitterer than your relative’s final words.

But he does not care for the bitterness nor the sweetness; he cares for his future queen.

It’s a shame his love was bittersweet and toxic to the core.

  19th July, twelve weeks before your wedding...

 A man once told you that when you face times of trouble, you must stand your ground and work the situation through single-handedly, but you have never been strong enough to do so, or to exercise this practice. The only way you knew to defend yourself was through your words and your sword, in some cases the words became your sword.

But what do you do when you cannot use either?

You’ve never thought you’d end up walking around a palace that isn’t yours late at night trying to find an escape route, yet here you are, running around, the soles of your feet pressing against the floor with the cold marble being the only thing your sensitive feet can feel, it was not usually this cold at night back in your kingdom.

When you were first told the only way to save your country from being thundered by your enemy was to be gifted to a King, you accepted, you already knew your people came before you, but dear God did you make a mistake.

Yet now you’re to be wed to him. You’ve also been made into a mere dancer, someone that would be given no respect in your Kingdom, the anklet full of bells constantly ringing was the consistent reminder of your status. It’s almost like you’re a concubine. You have no power, and whereas you used to have enough energy to defend yourself, you know that if you try anything now you would end up in a position much worse than how you are right now, all because you gave yourself away.

And it was on your own accords.

You’ve never looked so pathetic, scurrying around, messing up your skirt and almost stabbing yourself with a sword strapped loosely with string (taken from the loose threads of your clothing) to the waist of your embroidered clothing, just to find an escape route.

The main doors aren’t a possibility since they’re guarded. You cannot leave through a window, there are guards surrounding the whole place, you’ll be caught and given a fate which is worse than death…so maybe-

A shuffling sound. It’s almost like leaves rustling.

You whip out your sword, cut yourself on the arm in the process, and slash it around only to be met with the hard, shattering clang sound of metal. You can’t think properly, you’ve never had to actually fight, especially not against a foreigner for God’s sake

Your body goes numb, your mind goes blank and all you can think is intruder, intruder, intruder, intruder. For all you know this could be your last breath.

And all of a sudden you’re pressed up against the wall with a blade against your throat, your own sword now on the floor and prayers flowing out of your mouth whilst you stare into the eyes of your attacker, a face so familiar but a feeling so different.

He looked almost exactly like your fiancé. He just has shorter hair, black, and from what you could tell in the faint glow of the moonlight, he has the same scar, but it looks prettier than his lookalike’s, there was a certain beauty about him, but you can tell he could not care any less than he does about being caught by you.

“Who are you? You’re not from around here.” Neither is he, he looks like he belongs with the peasants from the way he’s dressed.

“Neither are you.” You spit.

“Where are you from? Are you that bastard’s whore?” The boy leans in closer, pressing the blade of sword even harder against you until you have no more space left to move.

“I could kill you,” He tells you when you refuse to answer him; your vision goes blurry with tears threatening to spill. It’s not normal for you to shed tears; you’re used to holding it in because you have to set an example for the younger girls back home.

“You wouldn’t kill a princess,” You whimper, it’s like something clicks in his eyes immediately, grip loosening against his sword and swinging it back into place to rest at his hip.

“So you’re a princess? You’re useful,” a small smirk plants itself on the man’s face.

You shouldn’t trust him, but you cannot help it, he is the most normal person you’ve met in this place so far, in fact he is the only other person you’ve met and have talked to, so maybe you are just desperate, or maybe you are trusting your instincts too much, but you are already in a difficult position, it cannot get worse than this, than being stuck in a foreign land and having to marry a king who couldn’t give a shit less about you and your feelings, just his desire.

But something about him is comfortable; it tastes sweet, sweet like a summer’s day spent in the forest near your home feasting on the most extravagant delicacies your homeland could offer.

“What’s wrong with you? Why the hell are you so pathetically quiet? I thought you were a princess not a slave.” He spits. Oh, if only he knew. “And what were you doing? What were you doing in the middle of the night? Trying to leave? If there was a way out, you would have left by now.”

How does he know?

“Who are you? I’ll call the king, I’ll call his guards! Don’t even think about touching me.” Ah, you’ve finally regained some sort of brain. Though you are lying, you would not call the king, not when this man is your only hope so far.

“Shut your dumb mouth. I don’t want to touch you. Not when you are quite clearly his property,” he pauses, looking you up and down, a smirk etched onto his face, one you didn’t even mind, “though, you are a pretty sight.”

“No, I’m not his property, I am a princess, and I’d appreciate it if you could treat me with the same respect which you would treat your king with. Especially assuming that I am about to become his wife,” you step forward towards him, faking absolute confidence.

“Mm, but I don’t respect this king you talk about. I don’t respect manipulative fucks who use me to get what they want,” what is he on about?

“What?” You ask, confusion taking over your sense.

“You want to go back home?”

“Well obviously, isn’t this what we’re discussing?”

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“I’ll spoil it for you now: no. No, you can’t go back, you do not belong to your country anymore. I mean they basically sold you didn’t they? You no longer have any worth even there, let alone here.” He laughs, “so pathetic, really, but, if you really wanted to get out of here…” so this was what it was, this was what he wanted out of you.

And you are so pathetic, so stupid you’re actually giving him what he wants.

“Please. Tell me.”

“Hmm, help me rip his life apart. You’re a warrior princess. I know where you come from, what they teach you. Help me kill him.” Him? Who is him?

“Him?”

“Your beloved fiancé, my dearest, bastard brother,” He chuckled, “who else? You really think I look like him for no reason?”

Oh, in God’s name what will you do?

You are not one for battles and murder; you have trouble even lifting your sword before someone else does.

What are you going to do? Kill him in his sleep? Rip his throat from his body? Please, that’s absolutely ridiculous; you barely have the power let alone the strength.

Who even is this man, besides having the role of being the King’s brother? How come you have not seen him before?

“Who are you?”

“Are you that stupid? Are you that dumb?”

“I asked a question,” you step forward once more, regaining your confidence.

“So did I,” He spits, “I’m his brother, he threw me out of here, now I’m back, look, do you want to leave? Or do you want be stuck in a marriage that promises you nothing but pain?”

“Why are you telling me? I could tell my fiancé.” He steps into you, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he pushes you back into the wall with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“You don’t really want to marry him, do you? Look me in the eyes and tell me,” he whispers. You falter, he’s right, you were just looking for an escape route, he caught you, and of course you will not speak to his brother.

“I want out,” a tear makes its way down your cheek, “I’ll do whatever,”

“Don’t worry for it, it’ll be handled, princess…” his hand makes its way to your face, gently tracing the outline.

And this, this is how you know you are with the right man in the moment, the sense of comfort felt was unspeakable, it almost felt like…

You were supposed to marry a man who treated you like a whore, but now you are not sure whether you will be marrying someone at all.

And maybe this was the perfect way out.

-

You meet him a few times more, discussing the plan and strategy; these meetings being in the safety of your dimly lit chambers, a little bit more up close and personal, and honestly you enjoy this closeness.

And it’s unfortunate really, but you seem to have taken a liking for the bastard king’s brother, it’s almost pathetic that you’re discussing your escape plan.

“Have you eaten? Has he hurt you today at all?”

“No, he ignored me today,” truth be told, you’re not sure why King Agust is ignoring you as such, it makes you wonder is he maybe that you met his brother? Or maybe he was sick of you and sick of your voice, your dancing, everything, maybe he would finally let you go? Unlikely, but you still wished for it.

“He must have smelt me.” Truth be told, you’re not sure why you’re so surprised to hear this either.

“What?”

“He must have smelt another man’s scent on you, we need to be careful, don’t come close to me.” But you like being close to him, you haven’t felt so comfortable being close to someone in such a long time.

“But I like this, I like you.” You thought maybe this would fluster him, but his face remained void of any emotion at all.

“I don’t have time to be friendly, I’m here to keep you company simply so that you trust me. And we’re going to the market place tomorrow, I’ll sneak you out, don’t worry, he won’t even notice you’re gone.” His hand comes up and cups your soft cheek, stroking your cheekbone, “stay safe, princess.”

And then he’s up and gone.

-

What does he even do here? You wonder as you stroll around the market place linked hand in hand with the man who had promise to save you from an unwanted marriage, and as much of a dick he can be, he’s still so pretty to look at. 

And you know deep down he is so much nicer than he’ll ever show to you in a public place.

You’ll never tell him but he’s ten times better looking than his brother, because at least he does not force you to do things solely for his pleasure, and at least he’s gentle, and at least he cares; at least he isn’t an idiot.

Or maybe he is forcing you into things...but you’re gaining from this too.

And besides, for some fucked up reason you feel way too much affection for him.

“You know...you never really tell me how you are, it’s a little scary,” you don’t tell him how you are either, but you know it’s only because he doesn’t care.

“I’m fine. And you?” You don’t understand why, but hearing him talk so straightforward, so politely, well...politer than he’s ever been before to you anyway, but it makes you laugh, a pure chuckle. “What? What is it now?”

“No, nothing, you were just...being polite, it seemed too sweet,” you giggle uncontrollably to the point the people around you start staring too.

“Sweet? I don’t do sweet, it sounds disgusting, I think what you mean is that I’m playing nice, and in that case, if it’s such an issue, I can go back to being a dick, if you would like, so you can dislike me all you want, I don’t care,” that’s a lot of talk for someone who doesn’t care, it only just makes you giggle more, until it finally settles in your head what he’s just said, you stop him from leading you further down the market, linking your other hand in his as well.

“I hope you realise that I never disliked you, Min Yoongi, not even in the beginning,” and that’s when the giggles erupt again, just at the sound of his name. You like that. You like his name, even if it’d been corrupted by a man who should not even have the right to say it.

Yoongi jerks his hand out of yours.

“God, the only reason I even held your hand was so that I wouldn’t lose you, not so that you can get all sickly sweet and sentimental, please keep that between us in private.” 

And that only makes you giggle even more.

Dear God, this is going to be a long day, Yoongi thinks, he almost wants to drown himself right now with the way you just can’t stop giggling.

But at the same time it’s kind of endearing.

And maybe he loves it…just a little bit.

-

“You know, I have never visited a marketplace. Not once.”  You tell Yoongi, he doesn’t actually care, he probably isn’t even listening.

“And you’re telling me....why?”  Yoongi asks.

“Because I want to tell you, so listen, or God forbid I’ll have my people stake you,” you jokingly threaten him.

“Okay, princess, tell me, or ask me, whatever you want,” well you didn’t expect that one, but you’ll accept it either way.

“You said he threw you out...tell me what happened,” it’s not even a question, more of a demand, and you know he’ll tell you. Min Yoongi pauses, his muscles tensing underneath your fingers from where you gripped onto his arm.

“he killed my father, that greedy bastard killed my mother too, then he told me to leave or he’d have me killed so I can join my parents, and well I guess he didn’t have the heart to kill me, we were always close growing up, I always took care of him like he was my younger brother...because well  he was, but then he killed my father, and my mother, just because he wanted the throne, because he was tired of being ‘second best’, I miss it, I miss him, but after what he’s done to the people, and me, someone has to dispose of him.”

“The people?”

“Well, look around you, does anyone seem happy?” You stop in the middle of the market, taking a full three-sixty-degree turn and looking at people’s faces, full of sorrowful expressions, sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks.

“They look so downcast, so unhealthy.”

“They are, he can’t take care of a kingdom, he was never trained for it, and he was just greedy for power and...Women and money, he takes so much money from us that we’re left not being able to buy food to feed our families, or whoever we live with.” 

“If this is where you live, why were you in the palace that night?”

“Let’s say I’m lucky I lived there my whole life. I know a woman that I grew up with, she lets me in when I want to see her. I don’t think I could live without her.”

Oh. There’s a woman.

And he can’t live without her.

Then why does he act so affectionate in private?

“Anyway, you told me you wanted to introduce me to someone in the market place?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there, there’s several places I needed to take you,” Yoongi drags you all the way to a butcher’s stand.

“___, this is my friend, he’s a butcher….he also um, executes in his spare time,”

“Oh.” You state, a sense of confusion settling in your brain.

“I think you know why you’re here, ___,” Yoongi whispers your ear.

“You need a favour from me, son? A favour just like last time?” The butcher asks, despite his overall gruff look, his voice is much smoother and silkier than you would have imagined.

You don’t know what favour Yoongi asked, and you don’t want to know either.

“When’s the next execution?” Yoongi’s voice lowers, almost as if he’s asking a secret.

“Day before the King’s wedding, why? You need me to sneak you in?” The butcher asks, an untamed brow being raised.

“Me and my…” Yoongi stares at you, eyes softening, “…accomplice, will be hopefully running away.”

“Ain’t that a crime?”

“Exactly. We’ll be caught; I’ll make sure of it.”

“Son, why are you telling me all of this?”

“When we’re presented in front of you to be executed-” Yoongi, eyes him.

“He won’t execute ‘er, he’ll fuck ‘er, chain ‘er up, but he won’t kill her…heard he’s been too whipped for this soon to be bitch of his to be able to do something of the sort,” you gasp at the vulgar language the butcher uses, raising your hand almost as if to slap him.

“How dare you? How dare you use such vulgar-” Yoongi places a hand on your shoulder, your anger suddenly disappearing and transforming into nerves, Jesus Christ, why does he do that?

“I apologise, she’s not used to such areas-”

“My God, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’ve both been meeting each other behind the King’s back with the way you’ve been looking at each other,” The butcher chuckled loudly, a hard blush covering both yours and Yoongi’s cheeks.

Was it truly that obvious how you were towards each other?

-

“Imagine if he knew my whole plan,” Yoongi mutters to himself, “he isn’t a quiet lad, he’ll go around telling everyone.” He places his head in his hands, sighing.

“Hmm, the way you look at me…” you tease, rolling over in your bed and squishing his cheeks.

“Oh, God.”

“How do you look at me…I know you weren’t too fond of me that first night…” you dreamily place your hands around his neck, he calmly grabs your hands from around his neck, and places them back by your sides.

The sting of rejection injected in you had never stung worse.

“I mean at least I don’t hate you. It could be worse. I could be like him; at least I’m not going to beat you because I get mad at you at times, at least I treat you as I should.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You state, tears welling up, it’s pathetic really, and why are you crying?

“I’m sorry.” Is he? Is he really?

“You act so strange sometimes, it’s like one minute you’ll caress me, and make sure I’m okay and the next you’re ashamed of me. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“I’m sorry, princess.”

You don’t reply after.

You don’t meet with him that night either, and he doesn’t bother showing up.

-

It’s midnight, and you’ve never been in worse pain…not after how you’ve been treated. On this day especially, the cut you accidentally made on yourself the night when you met the emotionally unavailable brother of your soon-to-be husband had finally made itself aware. The beating you got for accidentally marking up your skin was nothing compared to the deep cut he sliced on your shoulder blade in order to shame you for the stench of another man being found on you.

His proclamations of love meant nothing when he did this to you. He wasn’t a king he was a coward.

“Why are you not asleep?” You know who it is. He’s your only hope in this country, and with less than a week until you are to be wedded to his brother, you can’t afford to disobey him, not when you owe your life to him for saving you earlier.

His brother. His brother…a man that had absolutely no right to be on the throne, a man that treats you like exactly how a dancer would have been treated in your kingdom. He knows it too, what being a dancer for the king means in your culture; just the sound of bells wrapped tightly around your ankles was enough to strip you of your dignity, making you dance was just another way to ridicule you. All in all, nothing could prepare you for the slice his sword left just next to your left shoulder blade; nothing prepared you to be treated like a bitch on heat left to bleed to death later.

“It makes me uncomfortable,” you state, don’t let him know your weakness; don’t let him know your weakness, you’re stronger than that, are you not?

“Oh, really?” he doesn’t seem sympathetic at all, you can hear his footsteps nearing you, can see his face in the dim light of the burning lanterns scattered across your chambers as he sits in front of you, closer than ever before, and that is right when he draws his dagger out, using it to uncover the white netted shawl from back home that’s draped across your body, your mother gave it to you before she died.

What is he doing?

He moves his dagger into the burning candle wick, heating the blade. You are not quite sure what this man is doing, he could be about to kill you, he could be about to slit your throat, let you bleed out. Like what they did to the meat back home.

“I saw you dancing.” He states, sighing, the flame of the candle reflected in his pitch black eyes, “You dance well.” Now this man whom you trusted is just mocking you, does he not know how degrading it feels to be a dancer? To be stripped of your status, your name, and your home, your family only to be made a dancer for pleasure? For no other than the man who gave your father support in exchange for your hand in marriage?

“I’m a princess, not a dancer, I certainly shouldn’t be-” he presses his scorching hot dagger to the wound on your shoulder blade, pressing your head into his chest, allowing you to cry.

As much as the pain made you suffer, you couldn’t help but sigh with relief at the heat, tears escaping the seams of your eyes, and at the very least your wound will not be infected now. A small tickle, right inside of your ear, “You are not a princess, you are not royalty. You are a mere slave; if you had any noble status over here…you wouldn’t be dancing for that sick bastard of a brother. And if you knew what was best for you, you would run when I let you go.”

“Besides, I think your dancing is beautiful. Not for pleasurable purposes, I swear, princess, it takes skill to be as talented as you, you shouldn’t be mocked for it. I don’t see why it’s such tradition to be mocked for something as intricate as dance.”

It hurts the most because he is right; your status of being a princess means nothing to those in this kingdom, you’ll only be important once you are married to the poor excuse of a king yet you know that in this king’s eyes, you’ll only ever be his whore. But not if Min Yoongi steals the throne, then you could be free, even if it only leads to you wanting to go straight back to him, because over the past week, you’ve learnt how much you need him.

Yoongi presses the dagger harder against your shoulder blade, more tears escaping from your eyes, full sobs running out of your mouth, and all of a sudden the heat is gone, and so is the comfortable warmth of Yoongi’s embrace. You are unable to tell which one is more hated- you want him back either way.

Two dark orbs meet yours, and even in the dim light you admire his scar, only adding fire to his delicate, beautiful features, one that both brothers marked each other with-

For vengeance.

And it looks like Min Yoongi finally will claim his vengeance.

“Give me your hand, princess,” you are far too weak to give him your hand, so he takes your left hand himself, knowing that it is only adding to the pain in your left shoulder blade.

“I thought I wasn’t a princess? I am a slave…no?”

Yoongi plainly ignores your comment, placing his dagger in your hand.

A wave of shock passes through you. A man giving a woman his dagger back in your Kingdom meant much more than just a gift. It meant he was infatuated with you.

But Min Yoongi couldn’t.

“You may not be a princess to him, my brother may not respect your status but I will, and I always will, even after I’ve overthrown that son of a bitch, and even if you decide to leave me,” his fingers trace the outlines of your eyes, your nose, your jaw and finally, your lips. Contrary to his appearance, his touch is much softer than that of the linen used in the clothing your father used to have custom-made for you, his touch was softer than the soft hue of blue that painted the sky, and more comfortable than gossamer touching your skin. In return, you lift your left arm up, fingers extended, bearing the pain because infatuation is not delivered without at least some, and gently trace your finger over the beautiful scar left vertical across his eye. You are lost in the map of his undeniable beauty, so much so that you almost forget that you owe him for stopping an infection from forming in your wound.

“Take,” you pause, a searing pain bursting through your shoulder, Yoongi’s hand immediately comes to rub circles on your back, as you raise a fist clenched with your shawl, the same one your mother gave you, “this is a sign of my gratitude, for helping me, sell it I’m sure you’ll get money for resources or something, you can leave now if you must,” he blinks, facial features void of any expressions or feelings. And then it happens, rapidly, sharper than a blade, he swipes the dagger out of your hand and carves the lightest scratch beneath your collar bone which causes two more tears to trickle down your throat, the scratch is light, but still more than visible and you know you will be receiving a heck of a round of shame tomorrow when you see the king, he does not appreciate you being marked even further.

“How can I leave an untended wound? Isn’t that immoral?” He asks, “You realise, you still owe me one thing,” he trails off, and you can practically see the cynical smirk on his face.

“Me. I’ll gift you myself. I don’t want to marry him, so you take me instead.” You tell him, not a single second of hesitation, Min Yoongi stares at you dead in the eyes, all evidence of mischief and emotion drained from his face, taking your shawl and wrapping you in it, “Sleep, princess, it’ll be easier this time round,” clearly, Yoongi had no care for the way you felt.

“Don’t leave, please, I’d never leave you even if you let me go.”

But you didn’t expect the sting of rejection in your heart when he left. He didn’t want you. You misunderstood.

You are not wanted by Yoongi. And here you thought maybe someone really wanted all of you, but no, he just needs you for his damned plan.

-

Hand-holding seems like such a sweet, affectionate thing to do, but when you’re holding the hand of a man who clearly doesn’t care for you, it feels like more of a trap, especially when you have to announce a marriage to the people of his kingdom.

And it hurts worse when the man you’re seemingly in love with is standing behind a curtain, slightly visible only to you, staring at you with both admiration and pain evident in his eyes.

“…And to celebrate…grand execution…to rid our homeland of those who take it for granted…” you’re too focussed on your Yoongi, who’s staring ever-so cutely at you, emotions, for the first time in the period you’ve known him, showing.

It’s strange afterwards to say the least, there’s a slight look of betrayal on Yoongi’s face, and a sad sort of happiness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“What for?” You ask him

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“Why?” you ask again.

“I’m sorry,” anger fills his face, tears drip down from his eyes, he pulls you into your chambers, gripping your face and squeezing it lightly.

“You better not change your mind about wanting to leave because if you do, God help me I will never let you leave,” he tells you, grabbing your forearm and squeezing your wrist.

“And what will you do? If I leave, what will you do?” You ask, tears rushing down your face, because maybe you were right. Maybe he did want all of you.

“I’ll find you, I’ll chase you-” he pauses, slipping the dagger hidden in your skirt out, dragging the tip of the dagger over the outlines of your face, and finally down to the surface of your throat, “-I’ll kill myself, and I’ll kill you too, and then maybe we would finally be at peace with each other, far off and away from Earth, with no one but each other.” a sad smile covers his face. If anyone were to be watching the scene they would have thought you both were psychotic, but you understood, he would never really kill you, but he’d never let you be someone else’s either.

You’re not sure where the sudden affection has appeared from as two nights before he completely ignored your statement about your love for him.

“…I’d let you kill me.” You let out a soft chuckle as he places a soft kiss against your forehead, taking his hands back and placing them on your waist.

“Even if I end up marrying him anyway, I’ll still spend the consummation with you.”

Yet, still, he doesn’t kiss you.

-

That night when Yoongi is ten minutes later than usual for the meeting in your chambers, something is off, something is different, smells different, there’s something wrong.

And all comes crashing down when he brings in a woman with him, neck bruised with her love bites, body stinking with the stench of his woman’s perfume. And you resented it.

Why would he do this?

“Princess, meet Jihyo, you may recognise her.”

“I do not.”

“Princess, I serve you breakfast each morning how could you not remember me?”

“I don’t care for you, I don’t care for him either, I don’t even care for myself.” You’re miserable, and you want him to see it, to see if he really cares.

But things were fine this morning? Had he not made it clear how he felt towards you? Why did he have to break you now?

“Jihyo will be helping you go the morning you run away, I’ve changed plans so that you won’t have to get hurt by him, I wouldn’t want to muck up on the day of the execution and have you executed, so I’ll be sneaking you out the morning of the execution, he’ll be busy so he won’t come seeking for you.”

“What the absolute fuck, Min Yoongi?”

“Princess-”

“Do you have no shame? I’ve confessed my never-ending love for you several times now, I’ve made it clear I won’t be leaving even if you want me to, so how dare you come in here with this whore of yours covered in marks she made and covered in her stench. You disgust me. You’re no different from your brother.”

Even Jihyo had nothing more to say.

“I knew you’d hate me in the end. But I’ll tell you anyways, my love, you’d be better off with someone in your own kingdom, and so you need to move on, and I, too, need to get you off of my mind before I make a decision I regret.” Yoongi says, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“No.”

“Doesn’t it hurt you? To see me marked by a servant, doesn’t it disgust you that my standards are lower? Doesn’t it make you want to leave?”

“It does, it truly does,” you weep, tears spilling, your heart heavy with pain.

You hate him, you hate him, you hate him.

“I’m sorry, princess,” Jihyo rushes out of your chambers.

“I won’t be coming to see you again, my love.”

And you won’t be trying to find him either.

-

Jihyo throws your minimal belongings into a weakly knit rucksack while you watch, staring intently, unwilling to move.

“Princess, he won’t change his mind, he wants you gone and far away…and safe.”

“I won’t leave.”

“But he wants you to, don’t you want him to be happy.” It’s sickening to think that this entire time he just wanted you for the crown, he didn’t feel anything towards you, and he just wanted his crown back.

“Princess, he doesn’t love you. Don’t you see what I did to him?”

“I hate both of you.” You get up and grab the rucksack from Jihyo, storming out, finding your way through the halls to the courtyard, where you know the execution is taking place, you may as well bid your King farewell.

You really don’t understand what you’re trying to do, you shouldn’t be doing this because it’ll ruin Yoongi’s plan completely…but there’s a fire inside of you that’s encouraging you to keep going, and you won’t stop yourself.

But maybe you should have because it hurts even more than rejection when you see Yoongi on his knees blindfolded, with his hands bound by rope behind his back and a blade swinging towards his neck. You’re frozen; this wasn’t a part of his plan, was it? He was supposed to have escaped the ropes by now, why is he still there? And he’s not even bothering to move?

And neither can you, your body’s unwilling to move; knowing that if you do you’ll regret it, it’ll pain you terribly.

But you end up doing it anyway.

“No, stop!” All heads turn to you as you swing yourself at your king, sobbing uncontrollably, lungs gasping for air, “Yoongi,” you breathe, slipping his blindfold off.

“Why are you here, you should have left when you had the chance-” the bruises on his neck were long gone now, and he no longer smelt like Jihyo’s wretched perfume, just how you preferred it.

“I should have known,” the king scoffed, “you bloody slut,” Agust drags you away from Yoongi using your hands, cuts and scrapes make their way onto your knees, drawing crimson liquid, “I should have known when I first smelt someone else’s scent on you. You’ve been having an affair behind my back haven’t you?” Gasps pass around the courtyard; you forgot you had an audience for a moment.

“N-no.” He slaps you, grabbing your neck and choking you.

“Don’t lie to me, whore.” The king presses his nails so hard they cut into your skin, “How long since you’ve been seeing him,”

“A couple of months, when I first came,” You cry, struggling in his grip.

“My brother of all people, seriously, you could have-” the both of you can hear the movement behind you; it’s a rustling noise, heavy breathing and it takes you back to the night you first met Yoongi. The king and you both turn your heads slowly to see Yoongi trying to free himself out of the rope. The king scoffs and bellows with laughter, ripping his hand off of your neck and pulling Yoongi towards him, dragging him by his shirt.

“Yoongi?” You call, knowing it could get you in trouble.

He never listens anyway.

You can hear the grunts and shoves, and the yelps of pain coming from both of their mouths, but you don’t watch.

You don’t watch as the love of your life gets beaten by his brother.

You don’t watch as you hear them struggle to kill, hear the punches and grunts and the violent matter being dealt with, because you’ve never been able to handle the mere sight of blood.

There’s a long silence before you hear the sheer sound of metal slicing someone’s neck open and you look up to see your king holding a bloody sword.

You knew what that meant.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at your ex fiancé’s body lying dead and cold on the floor.

-

The weeks go on by with a new king in place, the rightful king in his place. You haven’t talked to Yoongi since that day, scared to open your mouth in case he’d offer to send you back home, and you don’t want to go, you want to stay here, stay with Yoongi, so you’ll sit here quietly and play in this intense game of fear. He still invites you to eat with him though, tries to make small talk and smiles at you, but nonetheless, you remain ignoring him, barely eating and avoiding eye contact at all times.

There are times where you’ll be tempted to say something though, and tonight happens to be one of those nights.

“Is your room comfortable, I can have them give you a more comfortable room?” the bed makes my back ache.

“If you don’t like the food I can have them prepare something else for you?” the food’s fine, why won’t you just let me be.

“My king,” you hear a new voice, “we have some…enquiries shall we call it?”

“Yes?” Yoongi responds, placing down his cutlery.

“The previous king never married, the country’s been missing a queen for a long time now, it would be in your best interest to marry, don’t you think?”

“Mm, very well, who do you have in mind?” Yoongi responds. Is he fucking joking right now?

“There are many suitors who are interested…how about Miss Areum, she is your acquaintance since childhood, no?” Unwillingly you growl, extremely un-ladylike but you couldn’t help yourself.

The king can’t help but chuckle, a handsome chuckle at that, too.

“I think Princess ___ would make quite a perfect queen don’t you think? If only she would talk to me, then we could discuss it further.”

“Really?”

“Ah, so she does have a voice? I thought my queen-to-be lost her voice for a while.” Yoongi laughs and it’s a pure, joyous laugh, not cynical or evil like your late fiancé’s.

“I’m sorry, I was scared you’d be reminded of how you wanted to send me back if I spoke.”

“I only wanted that for your safety, princess, but the threat is gone now.”

And for the first time since the death of your fiancé, you laugh and you eat a full meal.

-

The days go on by yet again, winter approaches with heavy thunder and not a word has been spoken about your lover’s subtle marriage proposal, you wonder if he meant it at all.

So far you’ve spent your days scurrying around helping servants, making yourself useful, running around the market place and sewing. Yoongi doesn’t approve of you mixing with people in the market place, scared you’d get hurt or make a scene due to your uneasiness in the country; you ignored him per usual.

But yesterday whilst helping the servants with their tasks you saw Jihyo, and you couldn’t help but feel for her; you cursed out her name when she was really just doing her job, it’s not like she wanted to take part in hurting you, but she did anyways. So you talked to her, though you wished you hadn’t; you wished you hadn’t seen the hollow look in her eyes and the sallow skin on her cheeks: she was suffering, starving probably, and you wonder why Yoongi doesn’t do anything about it since he claimed he was so much better than his brother.

“Jihyo?”

“Oh, Princess!” She smiled, bowing her head slowly, weakly, and her smile didn’t meet her eyes.

“Jihyo, I wanted to apologise for cursing you.”

“Don’t worry about it!” why she was being so positive when quite clearly your words had cut through her, you had no idea, but you knew she was hurting as much as the other servants were, but she looked worse than all of them.

“Jihyo, you need to eat.”

“I have, I ate bread for lunch, Princess,” she sighed.

-

“Ah, my queen, I wondered when you’d come see me, I’ve been missing you, you know? Today I realised I still haven’t even kissed you.” Yoongi claims, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other he swung around your thighs getting ready to lift you, but you stop him.

“Yoongi you’re king now.”

“Yes.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You need to raise the servants’ wage.” You state. He stays silent, thinking for a moment.

“You know, I was so wrapped up in our stupid little plan to kill my own brother, I didn’t even think about what I would do if I were king.”

“Then figure it out, and then you can kiss me, and marry me too, if you wish.”

You wish Yoongi had figured this all out before so you could be happy together now, but unfortunately for him you won’t be marrying someone who hasn’t even thought of the people of his kingdom, you won’t let him be selfish like his brother.

-

As time goes on and as summer solstice passes you notice the changes, the cheerful workers and servants that pass you, and you can tell Yoongi’s stuck to his word, and this time when you see Jihyo, you’re not worried for the sake of her health, she looks healthy, and she has a ring around her fourth finger.

“Jihyo, is that really you?”

“Princess! You seem much more mature since the last time I’ve seen you.” Jihyo giggles.

“I’m sure I do…is that a ring? Who from? Are you married now?” A sick feeling rises in your stomach, though you knew Yoongi loved you, or had some sort of feelings for you since he still hadn’t properly confessed his love for you, you still couldn’t shake off the fact that Jihyo had marked him at one point, and while it may have been to convince you to leave, the image of it still bothers you.

“Not quite yet, but I’ll be married off by the end of this month to some rich family in the south, I’ll be gone,” a sigh of relief passes through your lips, “though, I will miss you, princess.” Blood rushes to your cheeks, painting them a flowery pink colour.

“I’ll miss you too, I hope your husband treats you well, Jihyo.” You smile at her, knowing that this was Yoongi’s doing, if he hadn’t raised their wages maybe Jihyo would still be looking as sickly and as weak as she was before.

“It is the king’s doing, you know? So maybe you should go see your lover, princess, maybe you’ll be married off by the end of this month, too.”

And maybe you will go see this lover of yours.

-

“My king? I’ve missed you.” You drag out your words to tease Yoongi, watching as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“Can I finally kiss you now? Are you happy with what I’ve done?” He slowly reaches his hands forward and rests them around your waist.

“I saw Jihyo today, she’s getting married off did you know that?” You ask him.

“I didn’t, I haven’t talked to her since…the time in your chambers…” his voices drifts off, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. Yoongi places his fingers under your chin, kissing your forehead, “I’ve never doubted your love for me, I suggest you don’t doubt mine for you either.”

“That’s easy for you, I’ve laid my heart bare for you to see, yet you took advantage of that and played with mine this whole time.”

“I’m sorry for that, my dear, but you know I’m not amazing with women.”

“You were pretty amazing with Jihyo.” You shouldn’t have said that.

“Don’t do that, don’t bring her into this, you know why I did what I did.”

“I don’t want to be played with; your brother did that well to me.”

“If I was my brother I wouldn’t have listened to you. But I did listen and look how happy everyone is.” He’s right, you know he is.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He questions, brushing stray hair strands out of your hair.

“Okay,” you laugh, pushing yourself onto your tippy toes.

Yoongi gently grabs your face, pulling you towards him, and the moment your lips touch; you fall weak at the knees, all that wait was finally worth it as you both fell to the floor stripping off your clothes as you do so, and when Yoongi picks you up to carry you bridal style to his bed, he pauses, muscles tense.

“What’s wrong? If you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.”

“Oh, I forgot to ask you if you wanted to marry me.”

Needless to say you said yes.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi #bts #bts fanfic #x reader #min yoongi #bts angst #bts imagines #angst #daechwita #royalty #jimin #jungkook #taehyung x reader #taehyung #oneshot #imagine

[tomorrowsdrama]

2020 Year in Thirst Pt. 2

Sometimes, I will watch a drama for the plot/premise/substance and be rewarded with a surprise hottie, and it’s the best feeling ever!  It’s like finding money in your pocket that you didn’t know about.  The following list of dramas can be described as:

Came for the plot, was rewarded with a surprising side of thirst

1. Flower of Evil

Brief Summary: Lee Jun Ki plays Baek Hee Sung and Moon Chae Won plays Cha Ji Won, his wife who is also a detective.  What Ji Won doesn’t know is that her husband, Hee Sung, is actually Hyun Soo, a man on the run from a murder that he did not commit and also a suspected accomplice to a series of murders committed by his father in the past.  Oh yeah, his dad secretly tried to groom him into being his protege/murder partner.  Because of how he was raised, HS believes that he has no emotions and is simply putting on an act as the perfect husband and father.  His “parents” are in on the ruse and are actually the ones who forced him into assuming their comatose son’s identity.  Anyway, of course things from the past start to catch up with HS and his wife is somehow assigned to investigating his old murder case.  She of course feels betrayed, but also conflicted as she discovers her husband is not who he said he was and a prime murder suspect.  Things get even more complicated as the real murderer re-appears with fabulous long hair and tries to frame HS for the murders.  In between all of this are delicious make outs between the couple and at least one instance where they banged so hard, HS was wiped out the next morning.

Surprise Thirst Factor: I checked out this drama fully expecting to drop it because the promos were so misleading and unappealing. But boy was I in for a pleasant surprise!  Not only was the drama super addicting, it also had some nice eye candy in the form of Lee Jun Ki being a completely unrealistic house husband who satisfies in the housework (The man cooks and does the laundry!), childcare, and bedroom and Kim Ji Hoon’s glorious mane of beauty making viewers have a moral crisis over lusting after a homicidal maniac (who turned out to be a real loser without murder daddy around to clean up his mess.  It’s ok, we’ll always have his hair).

Yes, work that hair honey.  It’s the only good thing you’ve got going on for you (the character, not Kim Ji Hoon)

The chemistry between Lee Jun Ki and Moon Chae Won was fire and the make out scenes were soo believable.  Like yes, these two beautiful people are really into being married to each other and understandably want to make out all the time. 

He’s the primary caretaker for their daughter and it’s just *swoons.*  Not all thirst traps come in the form of sexy abs (although I would not mind if he wanted to flash some).

2. Six Flying Dragons

Brief Summary: The story of young Yi Bang Won (who later becomes King Taejong) and the founding of the Joseon Dynasty.  As short as it sounds, that really is an accurate summary of the drama haha.

Surprise Thirst Factor: I started watching this drama because I heard it was a great sageuk and I’m a big fan of Yoo Ah In.  Even though I’m a fan of his acting, Yoo Ah In doesn’t necessarily get my hormones raging so I wasn’t expecting to be so thirsty while watching Six Flying Dragons.  But then.  BUT THEN.  Byun Yo Han showed up in all his scruffy tortured deadly killer glory and my hormones woke up and said hi, hello, who are you, what’s your name, what’s your sign, can I get your number?  The deadlier and more tortured his character got, the sexier he became to me.  Sorry Yoo Ah In, you’ll always be my acting boo, but Byun Yo Han’s got my thirst.  Byun Yo Han looks so good when he's sad and/or covered in blood, it makes me feel like a sadist for thinking that I wouldn’t mind if the drama made his character cry some more.

3. Ever Night S1

Brief Summary: As a child, Ning Que witnessed his entire household get massacred because of a prophecy that the child of Hades will be born from the house and bring about the Eternal Night.  Somehow, he managed to escape and was the lone survivor.  He finds a baby buried in a pile of dead bodies as he’s fleeing and names her Sang Sang.  The two orphans grow up inseparable from each other and do whatever it takes to survive in the harsh, cruel world.  Ning Que earns money by becoming a deadly mercenary and Sang Sang takes care of the household affairs.  At one point, Ning Que becomes a disciple of the powerful Fu Zi and somehow gets entangled in the struggles between the Holy Sect and Demon Sect.  A bunch of beautiful women fall for Ning Que, and the drama tries its hardest to convince us that he has chemistry with and reciprocates the feelings of one of them (i.e. Mo Shan Shan), but anybody who was even half paying attention knows that the only one for Ning Que is Sang Sang.  They are the OTP of all OTPs and take “ride or die” to a whole other level. Oh also, their height difference is the stuff manga dreams are made of. Ning Que is a “good guy” but also not a “good guy” in the sense that he is not above doing whatever it takes to seek revenge and is only out for himself and Sang Sang (and later, his older brothers and sisters from the academy).

Surprise Thirst Factor: Chen Feiyu is an attractive person but I could not in good conscience thirst after him because he was literally born in the year 2000.  It did not help that he was only 18 when he filmed Ever Night and looked every bit his age.  My thirst may have no shame, but it does have its own set of principles and one of those principles is thou shalt not lust after those born in the new millennium!  Luckily for me, Second Brother is played by Dylan Kuo who is a beautiful, elegant, tall man

and Brother Chao is exactly the type of rugged and manly that I am into.  

(you don’t have to be)

who looks better when wet

AHEM. Yeah.

Sixth Brother is also not so bad with his scanty pounding work attire,

4. Novoland: Eagle Flag

Brief Summary:  Asule is the prince of a tribe in the grasslands who is held as a royal guest (i.e. hostage) in the Eastland Empire.  There he meets his two future best friends, Yu Ran, a free spirited princess who is descended from a race of bird people, and Ji Ye, an emo neglected/shunned son of a concubine who is probably the best fighter in the empire.  Ji Ye loves Yu Ran who is a ball of sunshine to his Johnny Raincloud dark emo self.  Yu Ran loves Ji Ye back.  Asule loves both his friends and will do anything to protect them.  The world decides to fuck over best friends Asule, Ji Ye, and Yu Ran for no reason as they try their best to just live a peaceful life away from all the political scheming and fighting.

Surprise Thirst-worthiness: I was completely content with enjoying Eagle Flag purely for its story and substance.  It’s seriously a wonderful, yet heartbreaking drama and the scale of the production is amazing.  No cheap $10 costumes here.  Also, the direction is beautiful/artistic and not the run of mill “let’s shoot it and complete it as fast as we can.”  The two main actors were cute, but not really my type.  Then the drama decided to give Ji Ye the “Sexy Bloody Tormented Killer Makeover” and all of a sudden your girl was rushing to MDL to check Chen Ruo Xuan’s birthday and calculating his age.  I am simple, predictable, and consistent when it comes to my thirst and give a character some scruff, long hair, angst, and some bloodlust and I’m all yours.  I am literally:

Is it wrong that when Ji Ye showed up looking like this ready to kill his mother’s torturer

I thought, yes, can we have him kill another? 

5. Run On

Brief Summary: Im Siwan plays Ki Seon Geom, a national track runner from a rich family who is a bit of an oddball and marches to his own beat.  Although his words can sometimes be construed as rude since he has no filter, they are also completely honest and have no hidden meaning.  He also has his own personal code that he lives by and he will stick to it no matter how negatively it may impact himself.  He meets Oh Mi Joo, a translator with her own strange quirks and sparks fly as Mi Joo is assigned to be his interpreter.  

Surprise Thirst-worthiness: I kind of watched this drama by accident.  I had read about Im Siwan starring in a new drama but nothing I saw from the description or promos for Run On appealed to me.  Nor did it give me any information about what the drama would be about.  Then one day, I just happened to be browsing Netflix for something to play in the  background and decided on Run on since I thought I wouldn’t be that invested.  What a happy accident that turned out to be because I’m so in love with this drama right now.  This is a case where the thirst does not stem from the character’s physical appearance, but from the intensity/charisma the actor brings to the character and the character himself.  Ki Seon Geom is so odd, but so appealing at the same time and Im Siwan is so magnetic in the role.  Prior to Run On, Im Siwan wasn’t really my type physically.  In fact, I always scratched my head whenever people called him handsome in dramas (I know, I know, forgive me).  So color me shocked when I found myself swooning all over Im Siwan in the second episode of Run On.  Now, it’s like I have “Im Siwan is attractive” glasses on and he looks attractive in everything to me.  I want to gobble up all the dramas he’s been in.

#flower of evil #lee jun ki #six flying dragons #byun yo han #ever night #novoland eagle flag #run on #jtbc run on #im siwan #kdrama #cdrama