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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 14 - ao3 -

If Lan Qiren hadn’t had any idea on what to do with Cangse Sanren to begin with, he had even less of an idea of what to do when he received a letter from his sworn brother which, after some deciphering of the small talk and insincerely meant pleasantries that could just as easily be read as implicit threats, seemed to boil down to so I hear you have a lover now? and also come to the Nightless City at once.

I do not have a lover, Lan Qiren wrote back crossly. You should send whatever spies you have packing because they are clearly completely useless to you. Also, I have classes that I have no intention of missing. If you want company, recall that you have a wife.

That won him a few weeks of blissful silence, possibly due to Wen Ruohan’s shock but more likely due to Lan Qiren having spitefully chosen to send his reply by usual post rather than by special post, which was more expensive and also generally reserved for important sect matters and not for obvious fishing attempts for gossip about the personal lives of juniors.

Which Wen Ruohan should be above, anyway. What did it matter to him?

The response, not long after that, went something along the lines of so what you’re saying is that you haven’t won the immortal mountain’s disciple yet? if you come to Qishan, I can advise you and that irritated Lan Qiren most of all, because right up until that point he hadn’t known that Cangse Sanren was a disciple of the famous Baoshan Sanren, the best-known immortal still in contact with the mortal world.

Mostly because Cangse Sanren hadn’t ever bothered to introduce herself.

It bothered him, a little. More than a little. She knew how much he valued people acting according to the rules; even if she didn’t care for them, shouldn’t she respect his inclination?

(It turned out that she didn’t introduce herself because she didn’t have a proper name, just the title that everyone used for her. Baoshan Sanren let everyone keep the name they came to the mountain with, but Cangse Sanren had come too young for any name at all, and so she’d never gotten one in all the suspiciously unspecified years she had spent on the timeless mountain. It was a pretty good reason not to introduce yourself, as such things went, and it also belatedly explained why she took offense to people calling anyone old.)

I am not trying to win anyone, he wrote back to Wen Ruohan. And even if I was, which I am not, I would still have classes and am not currently at liberty to travel. Has there been some sort of terrible tragedy such that your Wen sect is so desperate for additional people in the Nightless City?

You are not just any person but my sworn brother, Wen Ruohan responded. Am I not entitled to see you? Maybe I want to see this beard you’re reputedly growing.

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes and threw the letter into the box he was keeping all the others. He was trying to grow a beard, as it happened, though being a newly-turned eighteen it was a slow and frustrating process. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the itchy feeling of it growing, either, but stroking his chin as if in thought was nearly as cathartic as waving his hands, only more socially acceptable; he liked that part very much.

He’d always had a tendency towards strange motions – moving his hands or arms, tapping on things, or rocking back and forth when he was especially distressed – but his brother had always hated it especially, always quoting Do not move arbitrarily at him even though he knew that that wasn’t the fundamental meaning of that rule. That wouldn’t have been so much of an issue, except most other people seemed to agree with him, citing the importance of acting in a dignified and restrained manner, limiting unnecessary movement and remaining still and calm as a placid pool of water no matter what the circumstance.

The beard was an acceptable compromise. Given how common beards were in the sect, it would be hard to criticize Lan Qiren without accidentally insulting an elder – and it felt so good to be able to move freely, the action serving as an aid for emotional regulation that he desperately needed.

Of course, Cangse Sanren thought it was ugly.

Lan Qiren didn’t agree, but he also didn’t think it was any of her business what he did with his face. Even if it was ugly, so what? He wasn’t particularly egotistical.

Accordingly, he thanked her stiffly for her opinion and then proceeded to ignore it.

Apparently, that didn’t sit well with her, a fact Lan Qiren only discovered when he woke up one day, groggy and unclear as to what had happened the night before, to find himself shaven clean and Cangse Sanren beaming at him from within his own room, to which he had never invited her.

He did not react well.

Stories of your shouting have reached even Qishan, Wen Ruohan’s next letter said. Was what your little lover did really so bad? I hadn’t known you were so sensitive. It’s not as if it won’t grow back.

This is your fault, Lan Qiren wrote back, irrational and upset, his calligraphy rough from the way his hand shook – though whether in rage or something else he couldn’t quite tell. I don’t want to hear from you.

Truly his reaction had been out of proportion with Cangse Sanren’s offense. Shaving a beard, especially a half-grown thing like that, was little more than a childish prank, even if it had taken him several months to get as far as he had; in the end, it was really only a blow to his vanity, and perhaps the loss of a convenient emotional crutch.

And yet, when he’d woken up and seen her there where she wasn’t welcome – when he’d realized that he couldn’t remember the evening before, just the way he couldn’t remember what had happened in the Nightless City that day, waking up to Wen Ruohan smiling at him and an oath he didn’t know nor want – when he’d tasted the sour taste of day-old liquor on his tongue –

He’d panicked.

She’d realized it, he thought in retrospect; the ever-present smile had slowly dripped off her mouth as he stared at her blankly for the first few moments, frozen, and had morphed into an expression of shock when he had broken through his paralysis to start screaming at her to go, get out, leave – he’d even picked up some of his own things to throw at her, just to make her leave faster.

He continued smashing his things after she’d gone, unthinking in his frenzy and unsure why he was so upset, and in the end when clarity had returned and he realized what he’d done he’d been so ashamed that he’d grabbed his guqin and slunk away, retreating to the rooms where the Lan sect entered into seclusion. He couldn’t go into real seclusion with so little preparation, of course, but he was practiced enough at inedia that he could skip meals for a few days and not need to see the world for at least a week.

Part of the feeling of shame was that he didn’t know why he had reacted so badly. Wasn’t it normal for peers his age to play that sort of trick on each other? It hadn’t been meant as a real insult.

He had no right to feel so betrayed.

And yet, he did.

Cangse Sanren had visited later that day, her hand tapping lightly on the door bound by wards and her normally brash voice murmuring explanations and not-quite apologies – saying that she hadn’t realized what it had meant to him, that she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known, asking if he wouldn’t come out to talk to her about it and let her apologize properly.

He ignored her.

He ignored her the next day and the day after, too. His hands were unsteady when he tried to play calming songs for himself, his music tangled and knotted up like the feelings in his chest.

On the fourth day, she came and sat by his door in the evening, late and near to curfew.

“I didn’t know, you know,” she finally said after sitting there for nearly a shichen. “About what happened to you in the Nightless City.”

His hands froze over the guqin.

“Drinking liquor comes as easily to me as breathing,” she continued. “No one’s ever been able to play a trick on me because I got drunk – it’s everyone else who falls over in the end, not me. Maybe what why, when someone told me how badly your family handles its liquor, I thought only of how funny it would be…and not how it would feel, waking up and realizing that you didn’t know what happened. What someone could have done to you.” She was silent for a moment. “What I did do.”

Lan Qiren shut his eyes tightly.

Yes, he thought to himself. She was right. That was why he was so upset.

It wasn’t about the beard at all.

“An oath made when you didn’t know it doesn’t count, you know.”

He laughed harshly, the sound catching in his throat like thick mud. “It does,” he said, and his voice was hoarse from the lack of speech. “Of course it counts. It’s my honor, in the end…anyway, there’s no reason for me to lose my head over it. Sect Leader Wen’s powerful and influential; there are those who would cut off their right hands for a connection with him, much less an oath of brotherhood.”

He wasn’t even all that angry at Wen Ruohan for doing it, either, not really. There wasn’t much point – his few experiences with the other man so far showed that that was just what he was like, always taking instead of asking, and scheming was as innate to inter-sect politics as fighting. Might as well be angry at his grandfather for the ancestral weakness to liquor in the Lan lineage.

It had only been the shock of Cangse Sanren’s unexpected actions that had made it feel like a knife stabbed into his back, a scabbed-over wound suddenly ripped open again.

“You didn’t trust him,” Cangse Sanren pointed out. “You trusted me. And I scared you.”

Perhaps that was true.

“You’re still you, you know. Even while drunk.” She chuckled. “You talk more, care less what people think of you; you’re a little more willing to stand up for yourself, a little more bitter, a little less consciously kind. You told me all about music, something that went over my head, then went to sleep in just the right and proper way, albeit right on the floor. I had to wait until you were asleep to shave you.”

That was a relief to hear. Lan Qiren hated the idea of being so vulnerable.

Although – perhaps he wasn’t. According to Lao Nie, he’d apparently kneed Wen Ruohan in the balls that night for bothering him with nonsense or possibly for trying to leave before he finished explaining something, sometime either before or after their oath.

(After, he assumed. If it had been before, it seemed more likely that he would’ve ended up dead.)

“Anyway, I wouldn’t have done anything serious,” she added. “You wouldn’t have woken up married or anything.”

“It’s not you,” he assured her hastily, alarmed by the thought. “I didn’t mean to imply anything about your character, which I know is good; I know you wouldn’t have done anything like that. It’s only – you don’t always know what people think is enough, coming from the immortal mountain as you do. If someone really wanted to push the issue, or if you didn’t have the background you did, just you being in my room unattended might’ve served as an excuse. And then where would we be?”

She was silent for a while.

“You really don’t want to be married to me,” she finally said. “You’re not playing games or anything; you really don’t.”

Lan Qiren felt something lurch in his chest.

“No,” he said, painfully honest. “Did – did you?”

“Maybe a little,” she said, and Lan Qiren winced. The possibility hadn’t even occurred to him, not even when others had suggested it.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” she said, and her voice was warm. “Don’t worry about me, Qiren; I’ll get over it soon enough. There’s no pain I won’t forget a day later, never learning anything, it’s just the way I am.”

He gnawed on his lower lip. “…can I ask why?”

“Why you, you mean?” He could hear her shrugging through the door, the fabric of her clothing rustling against the wall she was leaning against. “You care about things, deeply and truly. Rules, honor, the right path…I like the way you think, the way you care. You have a good heart and a good brain. Why not you?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and felt rather a wretch over the whole thing. “I didn’t mean to…to…”

She laughed. “You didn’t lead me on, Qiren! You only ever treated me as a friend, and I was, I think. Maybe still am?”

“You are,” he said, and looked down as his guqin, then sighed, picking it up and going to the door. There was no point in pretending to be in seclusion now that the knot in his heart had loosened, and he was starting to get hungry. “Come on, let’s go. I feel a need to graze on the kitchen’s leftover vegetables, as if I were a wild rabbit.”

She beamed up at him, round face shining like the moon.

The next day, after he finished doing penance for missing classes without advance notice – two dozen strikes, but no more – Lan Qiren went down the mountain and purchased some tea said to have especially strong stimulant properties, and gave it to Cangse Sanren.

She blinked at it, then looked at him.

“If you brew this in the morning, you won’t be so tired all the time,” he told her, and shrugged. “Since we’re friends and all.”

He didn’t have that many friends – so few as to not even have recognized her as being one. He was determined to cherish them.

She smiled.

The next day after that, there was surprising news in the Cloud Recesses, the gossip reaching the classroom faster than the messenger sent there specifically for that purpose.

Wen Ruohan had come to pay a visit.

#mdzs #lan qiren #cangse sanren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Ashes Chapter 4: Stars

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Is this progress? You two talk and you don't want to murder each other. Probably progress. Probably. Something fishy is definitely going on.

A/N: Hope you are all doing well! This is more fluffy angst than it is angry angst. But I mean, just wait until the next chapter. I'll make up for it! Hahaha.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“You forgot your tea.” The woman called to you, and you turned and offered a forced smile that fell quickly. You were handed your teacup and turned to look through the trees. Liu Kang had disappeared within them.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, dear.” The woman sipped her tea next to you. You had to get to work but your heart was heavy. “Trouble in paradise?”

You choked on your tea.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat and tilted your head inquisitively. The woman gestured to where Liu Kang had disappeared but had a knowing smile on her face. “Oh, no. No, no, no we aren’t… I… just no. He’s having a hard day is all. A hard week.” The woman seemed genuinely surprised.

“I’m sorry for assuming but I sensed that your spirits were intertwined. It was a natural assumption to guess that the two of you were together.”

Oh, good.

“We used to be close.” You felt suddenly exhausted and as if you could cry. The bag on your back was heavy with the weight of Kung Lao and your heart was heavy with the pain of Liu Kang. “I’m sorry for this. He just lost his brother and it’s been difficult. He’s not usually like this. I promise. He’s a good man.”

“Grief is one of the most difficult hardships we deal with. I understand. And I sense that the journey ahead of him will not be an easy one.”

“Yeah. He’s not alone though. I’ll make sure he’s okay.” You would. Even if he did nothing but yell and push, you would at least make sure he was okay. Attraction or not, it was the least you could do. Kung Lao would have wanted you to.

“You must be careful too. I sense great loss around you and great conflict ahead of you.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh?”

“I was dating his brother.”

“Ah, that explains at least part of it.” The woman placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You stood there for a time. You blinked back tears and hoped they went unnoticed but this woman seemed wise and observant. She reminded you of a nicer and less godly Raiden. “It’s a difficult three-day hike through the mountains to reach Nightwolf.” The woman walked before you and offered you a folded-up map and a small coin-sized wolf charm. She cupped her hands around yours. “You will need this to prove that you are worthy to see him.”

“Are you sure? I… I’m happy to explain to you what we’re doing here.” You were surprised. You didn’t know what unspoken trial you’d passed but you were grateful to have passed it. At least one thing was going right.

“No need. I can sense a great many things, dear, and you, without question, are worthy to seek out Nightwolf. Your soul burns radiantly despite the shadow hanging over it.”

You stuttered because you didn’t know what that meant. “Thank you. I’m… we’re grateful.”

“We will provide you both with anything you might need for your trip. When you find Nightwolf then show him this charm. He will know that you are worthy of being seen. I hope that whatever it is you are seeking from him he can provide.”

“Thank you. I really can’t express how grateful I am.”

“You don’t have to, dear. I can tell.” The woman’s voice was soft. “Follow me.” You did as you were asked and followed the woman through the village. A small cabin had been setup for you and Liu. It was quaint but there were two beds and enough space for you to rest for the night out of the elements. That was all you needed and more than you deserved, you thought. You stayed in the cabin after the woman bid you farewell and good luck. You hadn’t even introduced yourselves but your meeting had still been profound.

For some time after, you sat on the bed and held your bag, wondering what to do. Your heart was heavy and so you meditated and prayed for Liu Kang to find peace and for Kung Lao to forgive you. The last one was selfish, but you felt incredibly guilty and there was no easing it. He would have eased your guilt.

Sleep wasn’t coming. You were too worried about Liu getting himself lost in the woods in his anger.

You had no right to worry about him. He’d gotten by plenty fine without you his whole life. You shouldn’t have worried so much but you couldn’t help it. It was natural to fixate on the few things you had control of when the rest of it was so wildly out of your hands.

You left the cabin. Night had fallen and there were only a handful of other people outside. You wrapped the blanket you’d bought around your shoulders and walked around the village until you found a clearing in the trees where you could sit and watch the stars. The sky was beautiful. So many of the lights in the sky reminded you of home but they were also so different. It took you awhile to find your favorite constellations which distracted you for a time.

You felt him before you heard him. The fiery spirit of Liu Kang. He sat next to you. You’d always been able to sense him. Earlier, he’d been bright with rage and now he was a dull roar but by no means at peace. He said nothing but sat watching the stars next to you. You’d done this before years in the past. Sat on dangerous ledges and watched the sky in silence.

It had been comforting then. It was less so now. He put you on edge. Between nerves and attraction, your brain had no idea how to process him anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He broke the silence, and you turned your eyes away from the stars but not toward him. “I apologized to everyone I was rude to, but I figured that I would save the most important apology I had to make for last.” You could hear a smile on his face but also felt how weary he was. Carrying that kind of anger and guilt took a toll. You would know.

“It’s okay.” You had forgiven him hours ago. Honestly, you’d mostly been worried for him. “Believe it or not, I get it.”

“Do you?”

You locked eyes with him and then turned away as you felt the nerves rise in your throat again. He hadn’t made you this nervous in years and there were a thousand reasons why. “Yeah. I go through moments where the world is too much noise and things seem impossibly frustrating. Moments where I can’t avoid being angry no matter how much I don’t want to be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turned your eyes back to the stars, but it was hard to think about him losing control like that. It hurt to think about yourself like that too. He scooted a little closer to you and his knee touched just against yours. There had been nights where you’d sat with him after fighting with Kung Lao and he’d held your hand. And briefly, you felt that comfort and that spark that he always ignited, but you stomped it out quickly.

“I miss my brother. And I miss you.” He sighed as if it annoyed him to say. “But being around you makes it more real.” You had a feeling. He had the same effect on you.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to whisper but you thought your voice sounded rather pathetic, broken and as though you were desperate to get the words out without tears.

“It’s not your fault. I need to stop acting like it is. You don’t seem to blame me.”

“I miss him too. And I miss you. I miss a lot of things.” You sniffled away the upset that had come with realizing just how much harder you made it on Liu Kang. Sleeping with him had certainly not helped either. Maybe it had provided temporary relief, but it had definitely worked a lot of old hurt feelings into the mix that you hadn’t needed. “It doesn’t feel real sometimes. I brought his little jade thing with me as a reminder. So I won’t keep expecting to find him waiting for me when we get back.”

“Y/N?” Liu turned to face you. “If he were alive then it wouldn’t be me on this journey with you. It would be him.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He was and you knew it. You hadn’t been on a trip with Liu Kang alone since before you’d started dating Kung Lao. “He’d never liked the idea of me going on trips with you alone. Always insisted on coming with us or replacing you when Raiden suggested it.”

“Oh?” Liu seemed genuinely surprised and you turned to face him.

“Yeah. I asked him why once and he never gave me a straight answer. You know how he was with that kind of stuff. It was like pulling teeth.” You missed your bag. It had become a security blanket in Liu Kang’s presence. “Now I’ll never know the reason. There’s so many things that I’ll never know.” You pulled the blanket a little tighter. Liu Kang was deep in thought and just staring at you and so you let him and avoided his eyes.

“Did you ever tell him?” He was hesitant to ask. Probably afraid you’d flee again. You snapped your gaze up to his in surprise. “About before you two were together.”

“What? No! No, god no.” You laughed awkwardly. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble between the two of you. He could be kind of jealous sometimes.” You liked those memories. It had never been a bad kind of jealousy. It had been cute and he’d always denied until after you’d fought about it and wound up rolling around together in bed. “Did you tell him?”

“I almost did once, but no. We’d been arguing and I almost let it out just to spite him.”

You inhaled sharply. That would have been a mess. “Yikes. Do you remember what you’d been fighting about?”

“It was something stupid. I don’t remember.” Liu averted his eyes. Was it something stupid? Or did he not remember? He was lying but you wouldn’t argue with him. You were in no place to push each other’s boundaries right now. This was the first real civil conversation you’d had while sober since Kung Lao died. “I just remember thinking about the trouble it would have caused you, so I held my tongue.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I knew you would.”

“Liu?” You wanted to apologize, and your gaze caught the scrape on his arm, left untended.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” He inhaled sharply as you touched the scrape, far more than he should have for such a small wound, as if your touch burned him.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Not ready to talk about that. Still… processing.” At least he hadn’t snapped at you. You lifted his arm and he scooted closer as if eager for your touch. “It’s fine. Didn’t even break the skin really.”

“Thank you for helping me back there.”

“I promised him that I would keep you safe.” He assured you and you rolled your eyes at him. He laughed which was short lived but also a wonderful sound. You had never needed him or Kung Lao to keep you safe. It had never stopped them from wanting to do just that. You would let him. If it made him feel better, then that was what mattered.

“That woman gave me directions and a charm to present to Nightwolf. We can leave in the morning but it’s a long hike. Three days, she said. We should rest.”

“I don’t think I can. I’m going to stay outside a bit longer.” Liu gestured to the stars. You’d both found peace in the sky in the past, both separately and together. Some things never changed, you guessed. You stood up and made to leave him on his own. He didn’t want you there and you knew that. So you would go back to the bed and to what little you had left of Kung Lao.

“Goodnight, Liu Kang.” You bowed politely but were surprised when he grabbed your hand. His thumb carefully brushed over the back of your knuckles. Your throat suddenly felt too full to talk. This was familiar. More familiar than it should have been. He’d stopped you that night too. He’d asked you to stay a bit longer with him. You had been drunk but had melted just the same and you were melting now.

“Don’t go just yet, Y/N.” He didn’t look up at you but he held your hand firmly. You considered that it was maybe a bad idea but sat down with him again anyway. He let go of your hand and then you sat side by side and watched the stars in silence. It wasn’t awkward, finally. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t keep your eyes open and had fallen asleep sitting up.

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#liu kang x reader #self insert #reader insert #liu kang #mk liu kang #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021 #ludi lin #liu kang/reader #liu kang x you #liu kang/you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #romance #death #tension #grief #beauty through ash

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echo-three-one · 3 years

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Chapter 44

The Road so Far

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more...

The TWO of us, together

Alex

Hotel Lustig, Prague, Czech Republic

"Thank you, Kid." Alex saw Jack's mouth move as their eyes met. His eyes which were once filled with determination and optimism were now screaming for help and desperation. He felt like Jack didn't have any other choice. He had to do what needed to be done.

"Nooo!" Alex forced himself to get up as his possible last words weren't the ones he wanted to hear. Not here. Not now. He wanted to see him carrying a possible child. He wanted to still be a part of his life.

Alex had been assigned under Jack's supervision since he was moved to the CIA. It was Jack's optimism and dedication to responsibility that made him who he was today. He was a great mentor and Alex almost considered him as a father figure.

Even in the most inhumane situations, Alex had thrived to succeed in his missions and he owes it all to Jack. The man was a treasure trove of skills and knowledge and Alex was one of the lucky few whom he had imparted it with. He remembered how Jack saved them both in Brazil, buying them more time evading capture.

But there was one thing that Jack would have regretted before going. It was to meet his son. He'd probably be 20 by now but he was afraid to ever show up out of the blue. His divorce with his ex-wife was quite tragic. Because he had to do it just to keep them safe. That's why Jack was always reluctant about him and Samantha. He would never want the same thing to happen to him.

So in the absence of a son, he channeled his fatherly attitude towards Alex, and Alex admittedly hated it when he's being called a kid despite his age. But as time went by and they kept on being assigned together, he had grown accustomed to it and it kinda grew on him.

In a split second, Alex remembered all the times they've been together. All the almost impossible missions they finished, all the times they thought they were goners but somehow they escaped it. All those things were soon to become memories to tell the people who will miss him.

A tear fell on Alex's eyes as he forced himself to get up and catch up on the two as they dove down three flights, ignoring the searing pain from the helicopter blast. He grabbed on to the ledge as he saw Jack and Nero, huddled together, followed by a burst of light with a loud booming sound just before they hit the ground.

A black burnmark was the only thing left on the ground as the place was blotched with a mix of debris and blood. Pieces of both of their clothes were everywhere as the smoke from the explosion dissipated.

The war was over, with Nero gone, his troops will surely retreat. But it cost one important person. A soul for a soul.

Alex couldn't feel himself as his whole body froze while looking at the aftermath of the explosion. He was trained to withstand any feeling but this was too much for him. He hadn't realized how loss hurts until he was able to see for it himself. It was devastating.

"Didn't realize it'd end this way." Price said.

"We were too caught up with Nero, we didn't realize the possibility of him being alive." he added.

"No." Alex finally said, it was hard for him to say as he could feel his heart on his throat.

"His eyes. It looked hopeless. It was the only way…" He said to them, frowning.

"What do you mean?" Roach said, extending an arm on his back for emotional support.

"He's the hopeful type. If he sees a good way out, you could see it in his eyes. What he did was the only choice he could think of." Alex sighed as the resistance team started to signal their victory. The city was cleared from Nero.

"He sacrificed his life because he had no other choice." He breathed, standing up and looking at the sky.

"I'll never forget you, Jack. Thanks for everything." he whispered, honoring his mentor and father figure.

The aftermath of Nero wasn't on the news. It was all just a story on how Prague was free from the militia groups that invaded their city as Alex turned it off and closed his eyes.

"How are you holding up?" Samantha plopped down beside him, leaning on his shoulders. Alex inhaled and looked for her hand, wrapping it against his and kissing it.

"Still devastated." He whispered as Samantha turned to him and looked at him straight in the eye.

"Jack wouldn't want to see you like that, you know." Her eyes were watery, but she was trying her best not to cry.

"You too…" he attempted to make her smile but they both ended up hugging each other for emotional support.

"Maybe he'll accept this every once in a while. The man would want to feel missed too." he whispered as they both curled up and let their emotions out.

The next day, it was back to usual at 141 except things were a little bit formal. With everyone in their black funeral attire, they gathered by the small park to honor a hero's sacrifice.

Alex stood by the podium and looked at the notable few people who attended. They were all familiar as Jack was always keen to introduce him to anyone he knows albeit professionally or casually.

"When I met Jack, my first impression of him was a stereotypical angry old man. Some of you may have thought of it like this toward Captain Price, no offense" he said as the crowd laughed a little, looking at the British captain.

"But once you get to know him, he's actually one of the best persons you'll ever meet. Every day felt like a school day. He might not point it out, but every move he made was a lesson in life. The man knew a lot of things that were vital for surviving this world. I once referred to him as a treasure trove of information." Everyone muttered their thoughts and nodded in agreement.

"He taught me how to stay positive even in the most trying times and how every decision is vital. He taught me how to think outside the box and utilize every resource you have, something that I admittedly didn't master but I'm always trying and he kept on telling me that there was no harm in trying. That's when I realized how lucky I was to be with him as my Commanding Officer."

"The man saved me multiple times and I owe him a lot for that. I'm actually blaming myself for his loss but the way he looked at me before he jumped was telling me that I shouldn't blame myself and neither should anyone. He told me once that when he goes, he doesn't want anyone to worry about him, as he'd probably be swimming in the clouds drinking unlimited liquor. And that's what he was looking forward to." Another chuckle from the crowd.

"So, for us who would not accept his death. He would want us to think that wherever he is right now, he's having a blast and we shouldn't be worrying about him." He smiled at the crowd as he stepped out of the podium and went back to the seat beside Samantha, hugging her before they both sat down. The ceremony continued with a few more words from Jack's closest friend.

Later that afternoon, Alex preferred to stay with Jack one last time before going home. He still had a few more moments to relive, and the rest of the squad, including the girls, were more than okay to join him.

"Hey guys. Thanks for waiting for me." Alex muttered as Samantha quickly joined him, locking her arm on his. It looked like everyone was also doing it with their partners.

"You guys should wear suits more often. But I'm not wishing for another funeral, okay?" Maxine said as the group chuckled.

"I used to wear these all the time. I look good at it, right France?" Soap nudged his girlfriend, making France blush uncontrollably.

"Yeah fine. You do." She replied nonchalantly. But everyone knows she's more than smitten.

"Now that this is over, what's next for us?" Roach asked the group, as they collectively shot an 'I don't know' look.

"Well. It's obviously an R and R for us." France said, proudly citing one of 141's rules.

"R and R?" Maxine asked.

"It means Rest and Recreation." Roach was quick to reply.

Alex looked at Samantha with a smile. R and R

sounded perfect.

"I'm actually finishing my psych exam tomorrow." France stated.

"I'll go with her for a check up as well. That nasty fall still bothered me." Soap added, holding on to France's waist and pulling it close to him.

"Well, looks like everyone's got plans." Roach grinned, looking at Maxine, suggesting that they had something for themselves as well.

Next Chapter : Epilogue - ONE's Sacrifice

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @whimsywispsblog

#alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #horrayfic #john price #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes

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inkribbon796 · 3 years

Text

Alea Iacta Est Ch. 2: The Still Hourglass

Summary: The hunt for Dark’s newest spawnlings is on.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

King was dead to the world, completely asleep when his phone began to ring, the custom ringtone of the chorus from “I Love Myself” by the Wannadies playing.

Grumbling in anger, King blindly fumbled for his phone and answered it, “Fuck you, Ills, what time is it?”

“Seven,” Illinois answered over the phone as King dragged his hand across his face. “Look, I wouldn’t have called if I couldn’t find Host, Dark’s got more spawnlings, I need help finding them.”

“I’m going back to bed,” King decided.

“No! Kay, please,” Illinois begged and that was what started actually waking King up, Illinois really sounded that desperate. “Dad’s not doing well, I need to find them.”

“Okay, okay,” King reached over for his glasses, starting to accidentally signal to Lunky that it was time to get up and the spawnling started screeching. “I’m up, just buy me a coffee.”

“After this is all done, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want,” Illinois promised.

Across the other side of the Egoton portion of town, Mark, Amy, and Ethan had already gotten up.

It was foggy from a rare summer cold spell. They were having an earlier day than usual since they were scheduled for an earlier patrol later.

They had their dogs with them and were talking about random topics while on a run in their normal clothes. Or at least Mark was shit talking and Ethan was shit talking to him back. Either way it was a calm morning.

Then Spencer stopped almost dead, tugging the leash as he stared down the street. The dog began growling, Ethan could physically see the hairs on the little shepherd standing up.

“Ethan?” Mark slowed down but he was still a good twenty feet away from him with Amy and their dogs. Chica was whining and Henry was just staring silently at the same direction Spencer was growling in.

“I don’t know, he just stopped,” Ethan looked around for any trouble. He saw what was wrong a bit too late. There was a patch of darker fog creeping towards him, about the size of a small mountain bike, much bigger than how he’d started out as a dinner plate sized cloud.

Spencer had smelt him but Ethan didn’t see him coming until the spawnling pounced.

A flash of aura, coated in words moved through the group and the dogs were suddenly gone, back home and fully rested and fed after their walk. But their owners didn’t move with them.

Ethan suddenly became aware that it got hard to breathe. Mark and Amy ran over to try and help Ethan when they were jumped by similar aura clouds, Mark trying to fly out of the crowd but he felt something almost pin him in place.

After a bit of a struggle the fog began to get burned away in the morning summer heat and the three heroes stood there, pushed to the back of their own minds.

“That was way more difficult than I thought it was going to be,” Mark heard himself say.

Ethan heard a bubbling laugh come from his own throat, “Let’s split up and see who can cause the most damage. I bet it’s me.”

“Eat shit, you’re on,” the demon controlling Mark spat and immediately turned tail and ran, Amy watching them both run off in different directions before the demon used her flight to take off into the sky. The Host watching the three of them go.

What most heroes woke up to was chaos. It didn’t take long for them to realize that, one, it was Silver and Crank causing the problem; and, two, they were being controlled by demons.

Not that the pair of demons let themselves get caught. The trio of demons had already been going crazy consuming aura before they took their bodies. The death troll had already risen to ten before the heroes’ bodies had been hijacked. Now things were getting worse with a super strong hero who could fly and one who could turn invisible being controlled by demons.

Marvin ran out with Chase in the hopes of finding Silver because Crank had gone invisible and some accounts said he had slipped into the river and was refusing to be drawn back out. Bing was on the hunt with Oliver and Logan to find Crank.

But it was Illinois who had joined the search with King who found one of the trio first.

“What do yeh mean there’s a third one ‘a these fookers?”[1] Marvin demanded, his voice coming over King’s communicator.

“There were three of them,” Illinois explained. “Just don’t kill them, let me trap them and—”

Illinois paused as he watched a woman walk towards them, cautious and careful.

The adventurer froze at the cloud of aura around her, the spawnling was already so much bigger and more powerful than when they had escaped the Manor.

“Might have found one, Marv, call you back,” King warned and lowered his communicator.

“Hey,” Illinois greeted.

“Hi,” she smiled back. “Where’s the pink one?”

“You mean Wil?” Illinois asked.

The spawnling had Amy nod, “Yes, I like his aura more.”

Illinois smiled in triumph and took out one of the pieces of chalk, laced with Dark’s aura, that he used to open up portals. “Alright we’ll just head back home and—”

Thick black and white aura began to cloud around the demon’s human host, a threat, “Not so fast.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Illinois started trying to move in front of King. “I can take us back to the Manor, you can calm down. Both of them are there.”

The spawnling was quiet before dropping her host, Amy falling away and crashing to the ground in a semi-conscious daze. The spawnling still looked like her, her outfit part white and part black,

“You got a name?” Illinois asked.

“Tempus,” she introduced, stepping away from Amy as the hero began to shakily pick herself up. King moved slowly to get to her and pull her away.

“You okay?” King began to whisper as Illinois drew open a portal and made sure to show it led back to the Manor and he walked through first, Tempus following him into the Manor’s entrance hall.

“Okay, you know where the other two are?” Illinois asked her.

Tempus gave a noncommittal shrug, looking around the Manor.

“I’m trying to keep them from being killed, I would appreciate a little help,” Illinois barked at her.

The argument was cut off before it could even begin as Illinois heard Dark and Wil arguing as Dark was coming down the stairs.

“For the last time, I’m fine, I’ve been asleep far too long,” Dark dismissed, his aura curled protectively around him.

“At least grab something to eat,” Wil insisted before the two of them saw Illinois and Tempus. “Oh, hello.”

“We’re still trying to find the other two,” Illinois told Dark as he walked over. “They’re causing a scene all over town.”

“I noticed,” Dark told him hesitantly. “Hello, my dear.”

Tempus was extremely hesitant about approaching him, as if he’d strike out against her. An action Dark had neither the heart nor drive to do now that she held her own sentience, and Wil’s aura still was palpable amidst her own.

“Sweetie?” Wil rushed over and picked her up, twirling her around, before setting her back down and cupping her face gently in his hands. “You’ve gotten so big. It seems like just yesterday you could fit in the palm of my hand.”

“They separated this morning, Wil,” Dark reminded sharply. “Your name, my dear?”

She smiled at him, “Tempus.”

“And where are your siblings, Tempus?” Dark asked.

“I saw them a little bit ago, but I don’t know where they are now,” Tempus admitted as the group heard an audible gasp from the top of the stairs.

The four of them saw Yan, leaning over the railing of the stairs and staring at Tempus. When Tempus looked back at her, Yan ducked a little bit.

“Yan come meet your sister, Tempus,” Wilford cheerfully introduced.

Yan came down the stairs nervously ducked behind Dark, who was eyeing his new sister carefully.

There was a little bit of tense silence as Yan peeked out from behind Dark. “Can we be friends and have sleepovers and makeovers?” Yan asked Tempus.

“Well see,” Tempus allowed but smiled at Yan. Yan’s eyes got all big and hopeful.

As the situation defused, Illinois walked over to Dark and began debriefing him on the current situation.

“—and pretty sure we’re going to have to fish the other one out of the river,” Illinois concluded.

“Right, the sooner the better,” Dark agreed, and threw open a portal.

Illinois, however, caught the fact that his hand was shaking as he did so. “No, you should go back to bed, I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ve been in bed for far too long today, stay with your father,” Dark walked through a portal, and Illinois followed him before he could close it fast enough.

“What are you doing?” Dark demanded.

“Staying with my father,” Illinois didn’t break eye contact. “If you’re not going back to bed, like you should, then neither am I.”

“I shouldn’t be in bed, I don’t need to sleep,” Dark scoffed defensively. “I am fine.”

“I’m not going to watch you almost die again,” Illinois told him.

“If I died then I was too weak to handle it in the first place,” Dark scoffed.

“No it’ll be because you pushed yourself too far, why can’t you just let us take care of you, Dad,” Illinois ordered.

“I am not your father,” Dark spat, his mental walls coming up.

“Then who is it? Because it sure as shit isn’t Wil!” Illinois shouted in anger. “He was never my dad, it was always yours!”

Dark’s next words lodged in his throat, and with his already weakened state, he couldn’t stop his blue soul from reaching out for Illinois.

The effect was almost instantaneous, the adventurer felt the impact of such overwhelming emotions that it immediately brought tears to his eyes. The burden of pain, loss, fear, longing, and the need to never let go.

Illinois reached out and pulled Dark in for a hug, the Entity trying frantically to pull his blue soul back into compliance. He wanted to reach out and destroy something, to point to it and warn everyone that he was still dangerous.

But the only thing in his arms was Illinois, and his mind stalled.

When Dark could finally get the soul under control, or at least not screaming in his mind as much, he found he had a new problem, Illinois’s aura was latched into his. Even as Illinois started to pull back, he held on, “You know, even if I was calling Wil “Dad”, I am allowed to have two dads.”

“Stop,” Dark told him, realizing that his own voice was choked up, instinctively looking around to see if anyone was watching them. Thankfully the answer was no. “Don’t give me this so it can get ripped away.”

Illinois leaned back so he could look Dark dead in the eyes, “You’re my dad, and nothing is going to change that, I promise.”

Dark held onto Illinois’s arm, trying desperately not to get even more, impossibly, emotionally attached than he already was.

He was failing. Miserably. Happily.

Illinois smiled again and Dark couldn’t help but get a little hopeful. “Come on, let’s go find those two runts before they get themselves killed.”

With that Illinois led Dark away as they followed the sounds of chaos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. What do you mean there’s a third one of these fuckers?

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songtoyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter Seven: August

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,889

Author’s Note: Okay, I think I am back to paying more attention to this fic. I already know how I want to approach the next chapter.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family, and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.

Tag List: @patzammit

On the whole, George’s birthday celebration went well. Raina turned out to be right that her dad did not make the trip alone. She and Chris met up with her dad for a birthday lunch, where they got introduced to Diane. The woman was in her early fifties and was a widow. It turns out, George and Diane had met a few years ago at a group therapy session for people still grieving the loss of a family member. The two recently got back in touch through Facebook and have continued to talk. It was only recently that George and Diane began dating.

It was all new for Raina to see her dad with another woman. She was aware that he had been out on dates before but never actually seen the man in the company of other women. Raina was glad to have Chris around for support. He definitely helped ease any tension or uncomfortableness during brunch by telling stories and keep the atmosphere light.

However, Raina could not deny that Diane was a nice woman and liked how attentive she was to George and vice versa. Raina noticed the older couple had a nice camaraderie with one another. Best of all was that Diane made her dad laugh and smile. That is what Raina wanted for her dad, to be happy. Who was she to hold any grudges or contempt because her dad was living his life? It is what Marie would have wanted. She would be happy that her husband and daughter were living their life to the fullest.

That night after the show, George and Diane came backstage to see Raina. Her dad gave her flowers, which she cherished.

“Amazing, sweetheart. Absolutely brilliant,” George gushed, hugging his daughter.

“Thank you, Dad.”

“I cried so many times, I lost count,” Diane revealed. “You have such a beautiful voice.”

“Oh my God, stop. You both are going to make me cry,” said Raina. Their compliments touched her. “I’m so glad you both got the see the show. Especially you,” she added, pointing to her dad. “I know it is late, but thanks for sticking it out.”

“Anything for you, kiddo,” replied George. “So, lunch again, tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely. You two going to sightsee tomorrow?” asked Raina

“We got some stops we want to make. Like George, I never make it over to the City. We’re going to stop by the Metropolitan.”

“She begged me to take her,” teased George and wrapped his arm around Diane.

“Well, it is a great place. The Museum of Modern Art is really cool. I took Chris there not too long ago. He enjoyed it as well. Museums, great places to have dates,” stated Raina happily.

When Raina bid George and Diane a goodnight, she got out of her costume and took off her makeup. She put on a pair of comfortable jeans, a long sleeve shirt, running shoes and headed off home to Chris. He opted not to attend the show that night as he had other prior commitments.

Chris had been staying at Raina’s place for a couple of weeks, ever since they revealed their true feelings for one another. He did make a trip back up to Concord, but it was to bring some of his things and Dodger back to New York. Raina was surprised that Chris brought Dodger with him but was more than happy to have the four-legged creature around. Raina loved that dog immensely, and it warmed her heart to see the two lounging on the couch when she got home.

Normally, she wouldn’t allow dogs on the furniture, but it was hard to deny such cute faces.

“Hey, you two,” Raina spoke, getting both of their attention. “What have you been up to?”

“Not much,” Chris spoke, turning towards Raina. “Move Bubba,” he nudged Dodger away to get up off the couch. He greeted Raina with a kiss and got out a wine glass from the cupboard.

“Red or white?” he asked her.

“White,” she replied and sat down next to Dodger. “Hey, kid. How are you doing?”

Dodger also proceeded to greet Raina with kisses and laid himself across her lap. She began scratching behind his ears.

“Here you go, my dear,” said Chris handing Raina the glass of wine.

“Thank you, darling. Dad and Diane enjoyed the show. They had a good time. They’re cute together,” Raina confessed to Chris.

He nestled down next to Raina and Dodger, who was now laid across both of their laps. “Your dad looks happy, and Diane is great. You’re right; they are cute. It is nice that they found each other. Looks like they are the real deal. You can handle that, right? If your dad and Diane were to take their relationship to the next level?”

Raina knew Chris was referring to marriage. “I want my dad happy and not alone. He has taken his time when it comes to dating. He wasn’t in a rush to move on, which, honestly, I appreciate. Dad has supported me all these years, so I will return the favor,” she answered.

The two sat in comfortable silence while watching the news. Of course, Chris had it on CNN. “How can you stand watching this stuff? At least watch MSNBC. They have Rachel Maddow,” Raina complained.

“I’m trying to stay informed, that is all. You used to watch this stuff too when Trump got elected to office,” Chris noted with a smirk.

“Oh God, do not remind me. I was obsessed with CNN and MSNBC. The only reason I watched the news 24/7 because I was waiting for the bomb to finally go off, and they’d find something to implicate Trump, and he would get kicked out of office, but nothing ever happened. It was exhausting.”

Nudging Dodger off of her, Raina got up and downed her glass of wine. “I’m going to take a shower and head to bed. Tomorrow, I’m going to have lunch with dad and Diane. Did you want to come?”

“Uh, I can’t. I have an appointment with Josh tomorrow. His still has some additional shading to do on the eagle,” said Chris, indicating to his covered chest of the unfished eagle tattoo. “Hey, before you head for a shower and bed, you got another vase of flowers. I put them over there on the table,” he motioned, pointing to the flowers, which were a lovely medley of lavender and white blooms. The clear cylinder vase offsets the colors of the flowers nicely.

Raina noticed a small envelope within the flowers and opened it.

Dearest Raina,

Congratulations on the success of Moulin Rouge. I am so happy for you. It is a great joy to see someone you know accomplished what they’ve been hoping for and working toward. You are proof that good things come to those who are willing to sacrifice to reach a worthwhile goal. Words can’t express how proud I am. You have the creativity and determination to do whatever you can dream. It really warms my heart to see you achieving your goal of being on Broadway.

Warmest regards,

T.H.

“Aw, how sweet,” Raina gushed at the note.

“What?” Chris asked. “Who sent the flowers?”

“Tom sent them,” she answered, taking a whiff of the flowers. They smelt heavenly.

Chris was confused. “Tom? Tom who?”

“Hiddleston,” was all Raina said and placed the card in the flower arrangement. “He’s in New York as well doing that play, ‘Betrayal.’ We should stop by and see it. You know, to show support and all.”

Chris watched as Raina headed into the bedroom, but he still sat there a little stunned. He looked to make sure Raina was indeed out of earshot; he got up to look at the card.

“What the fuck,” Chris said, stunned at the card. ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Sending my girlfriend flowers and writing all that in the card!’ he thought to himself.

“Let’s go for a walk, Bubba. Come on,” Chris said to Dodger and got the dog’s leash. He figured some fresh would help clear his mind.

Walking the usual route for Dodger, Chris looked around to see if there were anyone around. Thankfully, the street was quiet, and no sign of fans or paparazzi. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Chris always felt bad when he lit one but couldn’t deny how the nicotine helped relax his anxieties. And right now, he was in desperate need of something to take his mind off the card.

Chris knew he was acting ridiculous. That Raina had no lingering feelings for Tom, she told him that to his face. However, he could not get the small feeling of jealousy bubbling under his skin. Plus, Tom was his friend. They respected one another. It wasn’t like Tom wouldn’t have found out with the rest of the world that Chris and Raina were in a relationship. Everyone knew!

Looking down at Dodger, Chris saw that the pup was ready to head back inside. “Okay, we’re going to head back home.” The dog picked up the pace at the mention.

These past few weeks with Raina had been nice. Chris liked the domestic routine he had gotten into with Raina. It was definitely something he would like to continue, maybe say in Massachusetts. Unfortunately, Chris knew he would not be able to get Raina to live in Massachusetts full-time. She set on staying in New York. That was her home. It was the place where she grew up and most likely wanted to stay.

‘Don’t start overthinking things, Christopher,’ he more rational side began to say, which oddly sounded like his mother.

Finally making it back home, Chris made his way into the master bedroom with Dodger following along. He saw that Raina had finished her shower and was already in bed. Dodger got up on the bed to nestle in the middle. Chris tried to get him off the bed, but Raina wrapped her arm around the furball.

“No, he is fine. He’s like a stuffed animal,” she pleaded and snuggled closer to Dodger.

Chris sighed but couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was precious, his girl and his dog. He quickly took out his phone and snapped a picture. Chris stored it in his ‘Raina’ file on his phone. A keepsake of pictures of his girl that were just for him and not for public consumption. That is what his entire friendship and now relationship with Raina had been, something that was just for him. It was never for the public to scrutinize or even fawn over. He wasn’t with her for PR or added media hype. Chris always felt that what he had with Raina was honest and true. A real friendship that developed organically between two people that had progressed towards real love and devotion.

Sadly, both Chris and Raina knew there would be naysayers and critics watching their every move to see if any cracks were forming. With the positive press, it will ultimately bring out the negatives. It was the way of the game. A game Chris and Raina knew they had to be up for the challenge if they wanted their relationship to flourish and not burn out in flames in front of the whole world.

#chris evans #chris evans x oc #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character

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severetimetravelnerd · 4 years

Text

Hatred and Love (ft. G Dragon) Mafia AU

Part 3

You think you start to understand Jiyong, but you’re wrong.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@kwonnansi

@aarfyie

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Okay, so this is a mafia AU. It has appearances from Daesung, Taeyang, TOP, Mino, Hanbin and EXO (mostly Kai). This is the chapter where we’re introduced to Kai :)))

Warnings: Violence, Death(not main character), Injury, Blood, Eventual smut, Abduction, Guns and Knives, language.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You tangled your hands in his hair as you pulled him closer, both of you desperate for each other. He held your waist with one hand while the other slowly moved to unbutton your shirt. You had your hand on his belt buckle, and you were just about to remove it when the phone rang. Both of you pulled away, panting. He continued to look straight into your eyes as he answered the phone,

“Yes?”.

It was your phone. When he heard the reply, he cursed at it, immediately getting angry.

“Y/N, who the fuck is this guy and why does he keep calling you?”

You were also annoyed by whoever the caller was, so when you looked down at the screen, your eyes widened in surprise. It was Jongin, your co-worker. You sounded quite taken aback when you said,

“That’s Kim Jongin. My co-worker and the office flirt.”

Jiyong was already glaring at the phone for having interrupted you, but when he heard that, the glare intensified. From the phone, you could hear Jongin saying,

“I am not the office flirt! Y/N, I literally only flirt with you!”

Without meaning to, you started smiling. Jongin was the first sort-of friend you had. Yes, he flirted with you, but he never put any pressure on you. That was just his way of trying to make you laugh.

“Jongin, you flirt with literally every woman you meet.”

He gasped in mock outrage.

“That is not true Y/N!!”

Immediately, he became serious.

“Y/N, where are you? You haven’t come to work in weeks. All your stuff is still in your apartment. You’re not answering your phone? What’s going on?”

You made eye contact with Jiyong, not knowing what to say. You had been abducted, but you were kind of falling for the man who abducted you. Also, you did not want your dad to know. You didn’t know what to say, but Jiyong solved that problem for you. Responding in the iciest tone you had ever heard him use, he said,

“Don’t worry, she’s safe here. And she’s happy. That’s all you need to know.”

He cut the call and looked back at you, with a light smirk.

“Now where were we?”

You gave him a light smile and you climbed off him, struggling to not laugh at the way his face fell. You stood up, buttoning your shirt.

“Jiyong, you’re injured. It isn’t good for you to indulge in… strenuous activity like this.”

You paused to smile at him.

“We can continue this once your injuries are better. Goodnight.”

And you shut the door behind you as you entered your room, leaning against the door to try and calm yourself down, because it took you great strength to walk out of there and let him recover when you wanted nothing more than to let him fuck you senseless. You tried to go to bed, but as you tossed around in the sheets, you couldn’t think of anything other than the way his tattoo peaked out from under his shirt, or the way his lips felt against your, or the look in his eyes when he looked at you. After trying to sleep for a while, you finally sat up, shaking your head. You knew it was going to be a long night.

Although you barely slept, when you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t help but be in a really good mood. You kept thinking back to the previous night, the kiss, his eyes, everything. You knew you weren’t the only one who cared about him. The looks in his eyes and the way he kissed you proved it. And he told Jongin you were safe. He said you were safe here. That meant he wouldn’t harm you. You weren’t in danger. You had no idea how things were going to pan out, but you were sure that things would work out alright. You were annoyingly happy that day, just waiting for him to come and see you in the night. Which is why you were surprised when Hanbin came into your room in the evening carrying a rope, looking very upset. He couldn’t meet your eyes when he said,

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to come down with me for a bit.”

Although this was making you feel a little uneasy, you let Hanbin tie you up with the rope and lead you downstairs. Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you trusted Jiyong. You knew he wouldn’t harm you.

Jiyong had been in the middle of a meeting with his men, trying to explain their plan for the next deal so that things don’t go as badly, when he heard a loud, mocking laugh from the back of the room. His eyebrows shot up. No one laughed at his meetings. Ever. He slowly turned around, looking for the person who laughed. His eyes narrowed when he found him. Jaebum. The guy was good at what he did, but he was a bit too cocky. He walked up to Jiyong, his hands in his pocket and his eyes fixed in a deadly stare.

“Boss, are you sure you want to talk about being ruthless? Because”

He paused to laugh.

“We all know you aren’t exactly ruthless anymore.”

He took a step closer to Jiyong.

“You have a weakness now.”

He slowly looked upwards.

“And she’s sitting right there.”

Jiyong was hit with a fury he hadn’t felt in a while. How dare he challenge you like this, in front of everyone? How dare they use you against him? More than that, he felt a little scared. Yes, you were definitely a weakness of his. How had he let this happen? He was supposed to be torturing you? How had let you become a weakness? He started to feel angry at himself. But he showed none of it. He just fixed Jaebum with a stare and said,

“Hanbin, get Y/N here.”

Hanbin slowly led you into the crowded room, trying not to show his fear for you. You however, were still fine. You had faith in Jiyong. He wouldn’t do anything to you. He said you were safe here. Even as Hanbin tied you to a chair, you were fine. You trusted Jiyong. You looked up at Jiyong, meeting his eyes. They were the coldest you had ever seen them. You shivered a little, feeling a little uneasy, but you brushed it off. You were sure it was just because he had to be like that around his men. He slowly pulled out his gun, looking down at it. He gave Jaebum a final look and then aimed the gun at you. Even then, you were fine. You were sure he’d just shoot the wall behind you. Maybe he had to prove a point. Even as he fixed you with a glare, you felt okay, because you trusted him. He aimed the gun and he shot. It was only when you felt the bullet graze your arm and your body go numb that you realised, he shot you. The last thing you saw was his cold glare, with not an ounce of regret before your head hit the ground from the force of the bullet and you passed out. Jaebum had just opened his mouth to say,

“Okay boss-“

when Jiyong turned the gun in his direction and shot him in the head, turning to watch his body fall slack. He slowly put his gun back and looked around.

“Anyone else has any issues they want to raise?”

The whole room was silent. Hanbin should’ve been watching Jiyong and waiting for orders, but he had grown too close to you to just watch you there, unconscious with blood seeping through your clothes. He cared about you, and he couldn’t let something happen now. For the first time since he began working for Jiyong, he felt horrified by his boss. He knew Jiyong loved you. How could he shoot the woman he loved? Jiyong sighed, and in a bored voice, said,

“Hanbin, take her away. Make sure she doesn’t die. She needs to be alive for us to do the job.”

And just like that, Jiyong went back to explaining their plan for the next deal. Hanbin rushed forward, tearing a bit of his shirt to tie around your wound to prevent blood loss. He picked you up in his arms and shot Jiyong an undecipherable look before rushing out of the room. He knew that taking you to a hospital and explaining what happened might be tough, but he knew he had to do that for you.

Jiyong, on the other hand, although on the outside, he just continued his explanation of their plans, on the inside, he was dying. The moment he pulled the trigger, he hated himself for doing it. Luckily, last minute, he had shifted the gun so that the bullet wasn’t aimed at any of your vitals, but it was your expression when he shot you that wouldn’t get out of his mind. Your look of trust changing to one of surprise, of disbelief. You were the only person who had ever looked at him with that kind of trust. The way that changed… it broke him. He had to change that.

Hanbin rushed into the ER with you in his arms, desperately shouting for help. He watched helplessly, feeling wretched as the nurses wheeled you away. They had to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. Luckily, the bullet wasn’t lodged in your body, but even for a hospital’s ER, a gun shot wound was no small task. Hanbin just sat there, waiting and waiting, hoping that everything would turn out okay. Luckily, he had the sense to take you to his friend’s hospital, and so, there was no question of police or inquiries. He sat there, thinking back on the way things happened. Was this really the life he wanted? Would he someday turn into Jiyong hyung? Would he become someone who could shoot the person he loved? It scared him. He had always admired Jiyong hyung’s commitment, but now, he was questioning it all. Suddenly your phone rang. It was with Hanbin. He slowly answered the phone with shaky hands.

“Hello?”

It was Jongin.

“Oh it’s you? Are you the same guy from yesterday? Because if you are, I’m going to find you and kill you. You’ve abducted her, haven’t you? You’re drugging her and keeping her there against her will. You-“

Hanbin cut him off. He was too exhausted to fight over someone he hadn’t ever spoken to.

“No, it’s not the same guy.”

Jongin paused. He seemed rather sheepish for a minute, but he continued anyway,

“Who are you? What have you done to her? Where is she?”

Hanbin paused. Sounding strained, he said,

“Do you care about her?”

Jongin sounded taken aback. His voice turned a little softer.

“Of course I do. She’s my friend. And I like her.”

Hanbin felt a little better. He knew Jiyong would probably be mad at him if he knew, but he decided to call Jongin to the hospital. He needed someone who could fill in your details.

“Y/N, is in the hospital right now. She got shot. I’ll text you the address. Come to the ER.”

And he cut the call, going back to silently worrying about you.

Jongin put down the phone, in shock. He had heard rumours that Kwon Jiyong had abducted someone, but he was hoping against hope that it wasn’t you. Once he heard Hanbin’s voice however, he knew it was the truth. Jongin’s heart sank a little as he started getting ready to go to the hospital. As he strapped the dagger to his thigh and put the gun in his pocket, he seriously contemplated telling the rest of the guys. He was in the gang that was Jiyong’s rival gang after all. He had a responsibility as one of the heads of EXO. But he also had a responsibility as your friend. He knew that once he got the gang involved, there was no going back. After that, it would be between the gangs. No one would care about you, and you would probably get hurt in the process. His chest tightened a little. He couldn’t do that to you. If he had to, he would introduce you to the gang after you said yes to him asking you out. He wanted to keep you as safe as possible. He wanted you to be as far away from all the violence as possible. He didn’t want you to have to find out this way. But he knew one thing. He would make sure you were safe. He would make sure you were happy. He grit his teeth. He wouldn’t let Jiyong get away with this. Jongin drove to the hospital, as fast as he could, but by then, you had finished getting your stitches and Hanbin had taken you back. He just waited at the reception, clenching his fist a little tighter. His eyes were set. He might have missed you today, but now, he knew where you were. And now, it was war.

Hanbin and you sat in the car in silence, you still in shock and Hanbin not knowing what to say. You were trembling, still scared from what had happened. Hanbin watched you in silence, knowing there was nothing he could say to make things better. Hanbin slowly reached for your trembling hand and held it, gently stroking it so that you calmed down. It worked. Your breathing was getting steadier and you weren’t shaking as violently anymore. He softly said,

“I’m sorry.”

You replied, equally softly,

“It’s okay.”

You knew Hanbin had nothing to do with shooting you. Hanbin would never. He was too nice. You were only scared that it was Jiyong. Closing your eyes, you tried your level best to stop replaying his eyes when he shot you in you head and tried to stay calm. When you finally got to the base, your legs were still a little unsteady, and you were tired, as you were on heavy painkillers and you were running a slight fever. One look at you struggling to walk and Hanbin just scooped you up into his arms, feeling terrible at the way you were still shivering a little. He put you down on your bed. You mumbled,

“Thanks Hanbin. I’ll manage from here.”

He looked at you like you were insane.

“Y/N, do you seriously think I’m going to let you stay here alone tonight? Fuck no! I’ll be with you.”

And turning a deaf ear to all your protests, he went a got some water in a bowl and starting putting a cold compress on your forehead to bring down the fever. Slowly, you also calmed down, letting Hanbin run his fingers through your hair to calm you down. You were glad that through all of this, you got to know someone like Hanbin, because you really valued the friendship you had with him. You were just closing your eyes, trying to relax, when you heard the door open. Hanbin immediately jumped up.

“Hyung, I really don’t think you should be here.”

Jiyong ignored him.

“Y/N?”

You started trembling. You couldn’t get the face he had when he pulled the trigger out of your mind. Jiyong pushed Hanbin away lightly, moving closer to you, desperate to see with his own eyes that you were okay. You were bundled up under the covers on the bed. He sat down at the edge of the bed and slowly pulled the covers back, trying to check on your wound. The thought of having harmed you was driving him insane. He first saw your bandaged arm. It killed him to see it that way, but he was glad it hadn’t been critical. He reached up to tuck some hair behind your eyes, when he felt you flinch. Your entire body was shaking violently from the fear. Only then did he finally look up at your face. For the first time since he met you, those beautiful eyes that were always blazing, full of determination, stared back at him, full of fear.

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thedinanshiral · 3 years

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Dragon Age 4 Short Stories

To celebrate Dragon Age Day 2020 with us, BioWare surprised everyone with a new version of the Dragon Age site and 4 short stories and illustrations. These short stories are heavily related to some chapters in Tevinter Nights.

The Next One

Tells us of Grey Warden Lwrence who’s already in the Deep Roads for the Calling, and despite his condition continues to fight, even as he could be about to die, when he hears someone in danger he goes to the rescue and this catches the attention of a spirit of Perseverance. The spirit takes possession of the body just long enough to save a dwarven girl and a sort of promise is made, that in return she saves the next person who may need it. The Grey Warden dies, Perseverance returns to the Fade, and the dwarven girl , Evka, becomes the Grey Warden from Tevinter Nights’ “Hunger”.

Ruins of Reality

Strife, whom we previously read about in Tevinter Nights’ “Three trees to midnight”, is in the Arlathan Forest, witnessing some sort of anomaly that defies his perception of time and space, and possibly of himself, as he tries to find his way in a maze where he can watch himself from moments ago heading into the same trouble he just barely got alive from. Holding a magical journal, a relic of Clan Morlyn that writes its own entries, trying to follow directions to find a powerful artifact, he finally reaches a point of reference, a Ghilan’nain statue holding a crystal halla figurine. Irelin shows up and both realise what they’ve been experiencing is very old magic, ancient. The shapeshifter turns into an eagle and takes the figurine while Strife has no option but to play bait to dangerous sylvans, and once the figurine is gone the forest suddenly, eerily, returns to normal.

The Wake

In this story we meet again some of the many Crows Tevinter Nights introduced. Viago and Teia from Eight Little Talons (previously from the comic Deception), and Illario from The Wigmaker Job. The latter is drunk and the other two are trying to get him away safely. Someone important, someone dear appears to have died and they were just at the wake. Illario laments the death of his cousin Lucanis, and drunkenly reminisces and tells anecdotes until his fellow Crows put him to bed.

Minrathous Shadows

At an unidentified establishment, a magister lady is playing cards when a man sits at the table. The magister identifies him as a Templar based on his appearance and he joins the game, taunting the magister on her low bet as the dealer hands the cards. The Templar is named Tarquin, and he rises the stakes with a ledger that he implies contains information implicating this magister to the Venatori. She denies it, of course, and carries on with the game. Tarquin doesn’t have a winning hand -he wasn’t really there to play cards- so when the magister wins the hand, she tries to teach him not to threaten her. Magic begins to gather at her fist but is suddenly countered, nullified, and then she notices the dealer; shocked, she seems to identify them as “the Viper”, and claims they’re supposed to be “just a tale”. When Tarquin is about to leave the magister asks him who are they, what do they want, is it gold? Is it power? The Templar tells her they are the Tevinter they forgot. What could they want then? From behind the magister, the dealer put up his hood. “Everything.”

While the first three short stories call back to Tevinter Nights in both location and characters, Minrathous Shadows, with Tarquin and the Viper -and whatever tale is spun around that name- are new elements, and i’ll get to that soon.

As these are very short stories i’ll try a quick anaylisis.

The Next One: serves as a sort of “origin story” to Warden Evka, and also illustrates how spirits can work. Spirits are drawn, not only to where the Veil is thin or where there’s blood and violence and negative emotions and desires, but also to good intentions, hopes and values. Perseverance lends its force to Warden Lawrence when he, fatally wounded, still wanted to fight to save one more life, and when that last and desperate goal is achieved, Perseverance leaves.

Ruins of Reality: The journal from Clan Morlyn sounds suspiciously similar to the Emergent Compendium, a tome that writes itself found at the Black Emporium in Act 3 of DA2. As described in the codex entry, it produces pictures and lines of gibberish, which are writen in a cypher; the last entry recorded is in reference to Fen’Harel. So to have the elves Strife and Irelin searching through an enchanted Arlathan Forest for a powerful artifact using a journal that one day started writing its own entries, well, there’s got to be something there. Specially considering as well the illustration that accompanies this story, where Strife is seen wearing clothes with suspended metal golden triangles much like one of the concept art pieces (that i insist could very well be ancient Elves and/or temple guardians.. Arlathan Forest has to have a temple or two)

The Wake: personally i loved Lucanis Dellamorte and refuse to believe he has died before we got to see him shine in 4K. He was the grandson of the First Talon, leader of the Antivan Crows, and he was most likely set to follow in her steps and become First Talon himself eventually, but that’s not a fate he desires and there’s no denying Grandma Dellamorte, so...he could have easily faked his death in order to escape that. And the reason Illario is so broken about it is because in order to make it safer and more believable, he wasn’t informed of the plan. And this is the theory i’m running with until and unless BW reveals something different. Viago and Teia are suspiciously unaffected by the loss of Lucanis and we could say maybe they didn’t know him enough to care, but i’m saying maybe they know he’s not really dead.

Minrathous Shadows: Tarquin is a templar and we know Templars in Tevinter are little more than law enforcement, they lack the templar powers their counterparts from the South have, which would explain the contempt the magister woman has for him on sight. A Tevinter Templar is hardly a threat to the power of a Magister, that’s why in response to his threat she attempts to strike him with magic she knows he can’t fight back. But she’s stopped by this other new character. Someone who the magister points out should be “just a tale”. And i suspect this would make the Viper a Templar who can actually counter magic, something that by all means seems is not allowed to exist in Tevinter. She was just accused of having ties with the Venatori, going against current Tevinter law, and maybe thinks she can get away with a bribe, but that won’t cut it. These new characters now claim to be “the Tevinter you forgot” and want “everything”. There are easily more than one way to read into that. Can’t be the Venatori, they were all about returning to past Imperium glory which was lost, not forgotten. No, what we get in this story tastes more like a claim for justice, like what the Tevinter the Magister, the powerful and self-absorbed, have forgotten is everyone else. I think this Viper and Tarquin could be part of a rebellion that’s been brewing in Tevinter for quite some time. Maybe they work with the Lucernis, maybe they are part of the Lucernis themselves, or belong to a different faction, but seems they’re ready to take the Magisterium trash out. Another possibility is they are Siccaris, Tevinter spies, working for the goverment cleaning house, the mention of complicity with Venatori being considered treason by the government adds to this. Either way, colour me excited about these two. Last note here, while we have nothing on the Viper but the name, Tarquin’s name has appeared before in lore, in a codex entry from Inquisition titled “Shriek”, as an entry in the Blighted Codex, a collection of studies on Darkspawn kept in the Imperial Library at Minrathous and accessible only to the Magisterium. Tells the story of the son of a Magister named Tarquin who was the sole survivor of a darkspawn attack on his unit. He was shocked, speechless, having nightmares, eventually improving only to speak the word “Shriek” over and over again. There’s no indication of when this recorded darkspawn attack took place, could have been centuries ago. And really all we can get for sure from this is that Tarquin is a Tevinter name.

That’s it for now, please correct me if there is something about the Viper somewhere, i’m really not finding anything (other than vipers being snakes and snakes being symbolically smaller dragons and both snakes and dragons being literally on the Tevinter flag)

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age 4 #DA short stories #Tevinter #short notes she said #quick analysis she said #and writes a wall of text for two hours

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youralternantpersonality · 3 years

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End My Dear Friend

Warning: n/a

A/n: Here’s the end of it. I had fun writing this. It was in my brain for the longest, but I just didn’t want to make more than 5 chapters for my stories. Anyway, let me know what you think!

Sam (19), Paul (16), and Quil (15) gave up their ability to shift when they would have respectively been around 25-27 since Emily, Rachel, and Clair would age. They have kids—Emily: 3, Rachel: 2, and Clair: pregnant (Not really mentioned, but just clarification/to give an idea).

Comment if you’d like to be tagged

Tag: @pillowjj @summeerrr

***

A year later

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.” I turn around and smile.

“Vanity!” I run up to her and hug her. I was worried that she wouldn’t come. Having her here makes everything complete. We hear a knock on the door, and it’s Felix just to congratulate me. I give my thanks, and Vanity helps me finish up the final touches and helps me put my dress on.

It’s an Augusta Jones dress named Terri. It was something I saw and wanted ever since I was in 10th grade. The second I saw it, my heart skipped a beat, and I wanted to cry (I didn’t, I just wanted to). Vanity fluffed out the bottom of my dress and made sure it flattered me for the pictures they were about to take.

“You look so beautiful Y/n/n. If I was human, I would cry, love.” She tells me, wiping an invisible tear from her eyes. I laugh, and Alice comes in to make sure I am ready. If it wasn’t obvious, Alice volunteered/decided to be the wedding coordinator for our wedding. She rushes us to go downstairs. Because of my situation, I decided against having bridesmaids/brides-man. Instead, Jared volunteered to walk me down the aisle as a surprise.

I walk up to him and link my arm with his. My nerves start getting to me as the music changes to a soft violin musical playing.

“You ready, Blue?” I smile up at my brother of over 10 years and nod.

“More than you know, Magenta.” He squeezed my arm and proceeded to walk me down. Up ahead, I see Embry, standing there in all his glory. I made him wear a white suit to match my dress. I remember Alice threatened him if he got a single drop of even sweat on it, she will have him by the throat and shake him like a chicken.

Walking up to the man I love, I could see a tear lightly stream down his face as he tried to keep his composure. I told him before, if he doesn’t cry, I’m going to re-walk down this damn isle. He knew I was serious too. Emmett, who became our ordained minister due to a loss bet he and Embry had, patted his shoulder in support. I was scared at first, but the nerves vanished as soon as Emmett opened his mouth.

“You may be seated.” He started, “Hello. And welcome, to this beautiful wedding. A Call wedding—bringing two different beings to one. Two different species, if you will, to one. Before we dive into these shenanigans, I would like to remind everyone what happens when two worlds collide,” I can see Charlie putting his head in his hand and shaking it. Emmett proceeded for 5 minutes, making sexual innuendos but also giving blessings. Two things that should not be in the same sentence.

The reception was beautiful. The pack demolished every last bit of food there was. Emmett brought out poker cards and had Charlie, him, Jared, Embry, Paul, and Billy playing poker at my wedding. If I didn’t think that Embry and I could have more weddings in our lifetime together, and if he didn’t look like the most handsome when he was laughing, I would be pissed right now.

But Alice was.

Twenty years later

It had been twenty years since I had seen the Cullen’s. For every birthday Renesmee had, Embry, Charlie, and I would take a trip to visit them. Ren desperately wanted to have him in her life, and so, Bella and Edward introduced them to each other, so long as there was a gag order on Charlie. Not to ask any questions and just enjoy the moment.

I will say that it was a stressful time when Ren was born. Bella did survive, and as soon as she was clear, hell broke loose. The Volturi tried to kill us, but luckily Alice and Jasper had their own trick up their sleeves. If I’m honest, it was hard seeing Vanity on the other side. But when it was decided that the Cullen’s broke no law, they left. Before leaving, like the spontaneous and child-like we are, we ran to each other and hugged before leaving. I knew we’d see each other again, but it just might be a while before we do.

A few days ago, Carlisle informed me that they will be heading back for a visit. Ren wanted to have her official seventeenth birthday where she was born. Something about wanting to feel the nostalgia of it all. Here we are, Jake, Embry, Emmett, Jared, and Paul moving furniture around. Emily, Leah, Clair, Kim, Rachel, and I are fixing a buffet in the kitchen. Sam, Seth, and Orion (Leah’s imprint—who’s also a shifter) went out to get some supplies for her party. Alice and Esme are drawing up plans to renovate the house afterward. Rosalie and Jasper decided they wanted to be friendly and cordial…so she worked on her car in the garage away from everyone, and Jasper went hunting. At least they’re trying.

“OK! Bella said they should be arriving soon! And they’re bringing Ren’s friend Nadya…who’s fully human and doesn’t know shit about our world. So, let's try to be normal…Emmett.” Alice says, looking at the big guy in the middle of the room with a cheeky smile.

“What!? I am completely professional.” We all looked at him and rolled our eyes. Rosalie came back from the garage and stood next to Emmett.

“Well, look who graced us with her presence,” Paul says, sarcastically. Rachel waddles out of the kitchen and scolds him. “What!?” There was crying coming from upstairs, and Emily runs up to her desperate child. Sam, Seth, and Orion pull up with the supplies that Alice specifically wanted and allowed the pixie to do as she pleased while everyone just watched. By the time she was done, Bella, Ren, Edward, and Nadya—with Sue, Billy, and Charlie behind them—pulled up. We all hid and waited until they enter the living room.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY REN!!!” to say to her, and Nadya was shocked was an understatement. They screamed and held onto each other as if they were in a horror film…I mean, aren’t they, though? As Ren introduced and hugged/welcomed everyone here, two shapeshifters caught Nadya and Ren’s eyes.

“Oh, hell no,” Edward says, looking straight at Jake. Leah and Embry's bust out laughing at what just happened to not only Jake but also Seth.

“Edward, you know we can't control it,” Jake says. Jared in the background making bets with Quil and Embry on who’s going to win.

“I say Edward.” – Jared

“No shit, he’s a dad. Of course, he is.” – Quil

“My bets on Jake. He’ll attempt to reason with him.” – Embry

“Naw, Jake tried to take Bella. This might be anger he never knew he had.” Emmett joined in, betting $20. They had a pool of $60 at this point. Then I hear,

“Join…no fight…”

“I'm going to say no fight because Ren has power over both of them.” I join in, placing a $20 while smiling. Embry and Jared look at me, and before they can say anything, “NO TAKE BACKS!” Needless to say, I won the money, and the party continued. Edward chaperoned Jake and Ren the whole night. One wrong thought from Jake and his life was done. Treaty or no treaty. Seth, on the other hand, was flirting and having a ball with Nadya. I wonder how that’s going to end up.

After the party ended and everything was cleaned up, Nadya and Ren went to bed while Alice and Esme took over in renovating parts of the house that Nadya hasn’t seen, so she isn’t suspicious. Embry and I headed back to our house just on the outskirts of Forks and La Push. I didn’t get any special treatment just because I was Embry’s mate. But if I’m honest, I’m glad I wasn’t on the Reservation. At the time, my family was still there. The only time I was allowed was to visit my grandparent's grave.

Nana died of another heart attack, and Papa died soon afterward from the loss of Nana. That year I had gone missing. Aunt Lydia and dad had a falling out. Mom and dad split after two years, multiple counseling sessions, and marriage and therapy appointments. Nothing seemed to work between the two of them. I felt terrible. It felt as if that was my fault. Embry and Jared made sure that it wasn’t. It was hard to believe them, but eventually, I knew I had to move forward one way or another.

I tried to send anonymous letters to them; it helped some, but not enough. Although, a few years ago, dad and aunt Lydia finally rekindled their relationship, and Aunt Lydia reached out to mom. It was painful for all three of them, but they finally came to a neutral ground and grieved like they should’ve all those years ago. Aunt Lydia stayed in the area and got married to her second husband. Mom moved back to Texas and eventually started dating but not for a long while. And Dad moved to Seattle, where he met an old high school sweetheart of his.

I now lay in bed with my husband on Isle Esme, a gift from Carlisle and Esme for our 20th wedding anniversary. Do you know how hard it is to not explain to the natives on the island that all the food I got wasn’t for me, but for my husband? Do you also know how irritating, yet flattering, it was to see women attempt to flirt with Embry? He was awkward and continuously looked for my help. Other times, he would pass by them and blankly ignore them.

“You know, babe. Emmett gave us this gift that I think we should try out. Then go into town for a while.” I perk up at that and look at my husband.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” I said with excitement.

“A butterfly…” he shows and explains to me what it does. We test run it, and boy, does it make you want to grab the edge of a table and break it. Ironically, that’s precisely what I did. The bastard had it on high too, and I nearly lost my shit. Needless to say, we didn’t go into town until the next morning, and he still made me keep it on.

Later that night, while Embry was asleep, I glanced at him and just felt a rush of happiness submerge deep from within. This, this right here is the life I’ve been searching for. This is the life that I will be forever grateful for.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open! (Go to the description bar on my page to put one in)

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years

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Permafrost

Chapter 1: LBD

Peter Parker x reader

word count: 2,823 (whoops)

summary: Tony Stark has hired the mountain guide company you work for to assist him and the Avengers on an upcoming mission, you just happen to be invited to the formal party. You meet a cute spider-boy and some mild smut ensues. Might make this a multi-chapter thing... we’ll see. Also, this definitely does not take place in the MCU timeline with Endgame and Tony dying and whatnot.

warnings: mentions of alcohol, poorly written smut, oral (male receiving)

Although it was nowhere close to your everyday look, you found a strange sense of comfort in the tight black dress wrapped around your body. You look nervously around at all the other tall, beautiful, elegantly dressed people around you and can’t help but feel out of place. This black dress can be your disguise. You don’t have to be yourself here. However easy it would be to come up with some fake name and a fake identity, force yourself to mingle, that just wasn’t you. So you silently reside to another glass of wine and desperately look around for someone you know.

Working for a mountain guide company had its perks, flexible hours, no dress code, living the dream that you had envisioned for yourself since you were twelve. You did not imagine high falutin black-tie events to be in your job description. Your boss had just been hired by Tony Stark to accompany him and the Avengers on some top-secret mission in Antarctica. Something about lost alien artifacts. You weren’t high up enough to get any of the details, but being the only woman hired in the history of the company you got a ticket to the big event to make the company look a little diverse.

You adjust the strap of your dress and fiddle with your handbag to kill some time. You figured it would be rude to sink back into a corner and stare at your phone, yet you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to go introduce yourself to any superheroes or businessmen. So you stay in limbo, finding quiet ways to pass the time, desperately trying to make eye contact with anyone.

Right as you start to turn to go to the bathroom for the third time tonight, perhaps to fix your lipstick for a minute or ten, a strong hand taps your shoulder

“I hate these things too,” you turn to the boy, who was leaning against the door frame next to you, “I’m surprised to see someone my age here, usually everyone at these things are ancient.”

You laugh nervously and turn to him, trying to think of something clever to respond with but coming up blank, distracted by his curls and big brown eyes.

“I’m Peter, by the way, mind keeping me company? I don’t exactly fit in with all this adult chit chat.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure of course,” you stutter, feeling like an idiot, realizing you must have been staring with your mouth wide open. He probably came over here because he felt bad, maybe you should escape to the bathroom anyways… “I’m y/n”

“What brings you here y/n?” he asks, driving the conversation forward, “is one of these old geezers your dad or something?”

“No actually,” you laugh a little, “I work for the climbing guide company Stark just hired.”

“Oooh so will you be guiding us through the treacherous mountains of Antarctica next month,” Peter asks, flirting a little. You stare at him for a moment, trying to register what he meant by “us.” You didn’t recognize him as anyone significant, so you brush it off.

“Nah, they will probably send Stephen and Eric, they are the most experienced climbers. I’ve only been working there for a few years. Never been to Antarctica to climb actually, but I’ve heard its wild.” You look away, avoiding eye contact. His eyes staring intently at you as you talk causes a pink to rise up in the apples of your cheeks.

“Mind if I grab you another?” He offers, gesturing to your empty glass. You agree and follow him across the ballroom to where the bar is stationed. You feel a wave of relief now that you have someone to talk to at least for now, at least until it’s an appropriate time to escape home.

“So if you aren’t guiding Avengers through the snowy mountains, what do you do at this job of yours,” he asks, seeming to genuinely want to know.

“Well I’ve been climbing for basically my whole life, so this job is really a dream. I travel to different national parks and run programs for beginner climbers, show them the ropes and stuff,” you shrug, “but I’m pretty new still, the more experienced workers get to do cool stuff like this job. Hopefully in a few years I’ll be doing more stuff like that.”

You weren’t sure why you felt so comfortable around this boy. You were never much of a talker, and it was either him or the wine that was making you so chatty. Quickly changing the subject, you ask him, “So what do you do here? You the son of one of these old geezers?”

“I deal with more of the local operations of Stark Industries,” Peter answers playfully, avoiding telling you directly that he’s Spiderman, “you know, community improvement type stuff.”

Finding a seat in a far-off corner the two of you talk about everything and nothing. You tell him about your summer spent in Yosemite, and he tells you about his summer trip to Europe. The conversation flows unusually well, despite Peter dancing around questions. It's not that he couldn’t tell you that he’s Spiderman, he just liked the feeling of being treated like anyone else. He liked the feeling of you wanting to talk to him.

His eyes danced across your bare shoulders, admiring the curve of your neck and how your dress fell perfectly across your chest. You notice him staring, but you like the way his soft eyes follow across you. You start to feel your face get hot again and turn away to sip your drink.

“Thank you for saving me, I barely know anyone here and I’m the worst at small talk” you tell him sincerely, “I wasn’t even going to come, but I felt like I had to, you know? Can’t pass up the chance to party at the Stark Tower.”

“I’m glad you came,” he tells you, eyes burning into yours, “then I would have missed the opportunity to meet someone so interesting.”

“Shut up cheeseball,” you laugh as you playfully punch his arm, “for all you know I’m horrible and awful but just an incredibly good actress. This dress just brings out a different side of me.” You joke, sitting up a little straighter in your chair, wiggling your shoulders.

“Well I’d like to see the side of you that’s out of that dress,” Peter mumbles. You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to gauge if he was joking. You laugh a little to ease the tension, but you can see a fire behind his eyes. It was so unlike you to even be at an event like this, so unlike you to be drinking wine and flirting with a cute boy, so why shouldn’t you continue to do some things that are a little out of character?

You grab his knee, leaning in, “outside in 5, yeah?”

He nods a little too eagerly, but you don’t mind. The attention he had been giving you all night is what fueled this strange wave of confidence, and you were going to ride is as long as it lasted.

Placing your glass on an empty table, you sharply turn and start toward the doors, trying not to look too eager. The thought of him not following you crosses your mind, but you are too embarrassed to turn around to check. If he doesn’t show you will be beelining home for sure, take it as a loss and never show your face at Stark Industries again, not that you would ever have a reason to.

You press your back against the cool tile of the wall in the hallway, running your hands through your hair as the reality sets in of what you just did. A pit starts to form in your stomach, the aftermath of all that found confidence wearing off. Just as you were about to book it through the large double doors at the end of the hallway, you see him approaching you. He gestures to a closed door down the hall, and you follow him through it. It was a plain room with a fireplace and some couches, probably used for smaller social events.

Placing an arm over your shoulder, pressed up against the wall behind you, he leans in, close but not too close. “are you asking me what I think you are?” his tone still flirtatious, but with a hint of real concern, “I know I seem very charming and all, but I actually don’t do things like this very often.”

Your eyes meet his and a smile creeps across your lips, “And I know that I seem amazingly confident” you retort “but would you believe me if I said I don’t do things like this very often either?”

It was true, you were no prude by any standards, but bringing someone you just met into some random locked room at a work function was not really in your repertoire. Even though the butterflies in your stomach seemed to feel more like wild geese, there was a certain quality about him that gave you a sense of ease.

“If you are interested in doing what you think I’m asking,” you finally respond, “then yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

He leans in closer, lips hovering over yours, breathing heavily but steadily. “If you want to stop, just say the word,” he tells you, and you nod understanding, “but the way you look in this dress has made it so fucking hard for me to not do this any sooner” he whispers into you before colliding your mouths together.

He takes your face between his large hands, stroking his thumb across your cheek as he kisses you deep and harshly. While the kiss was passionate and desperate, there was still something so sweet and gentle about him. You kiss him back with an open mouth, wanting more. Your arms wrap around him as his hands travel from your face down to your hips, grabbing you firmly and pressing you into the wall behind.

Your hands naturally weave their way into his brown curls, pulling his face impossibly closer to yours. His tongue slips under yours and you let out a breathy moan, feeling his mouth on yours. Daringly you take his bottom lip between your teeth and pull back a little, looking back up at him to meet his eyes. Blown out and filled with lust, he stares back at you wanting nothing more than your mouth on his again.

In one fell swoop he lifts your legs off the ground, instinctively wrapping them around his suited torso. You lean into him more, tongues meeting between wet open lips. He slowly starts to make his way across the room with you, not wanting to break the kiss, but also not wanting to trip over a coffee table. He seats you down gently on the couch below him, finally separating his lips from yours.

Although you wouldn’t mind just making out with this boy forever, never leaving the four walls of this random parlor, the way he looked standing above you, hair a mess and suit jacket rumpled made you want so much more. Before he could join you on the couch you sit back on your thighs, causing your dress to ride up quite a bit. Peter bites his lip, “fuck y/n.”

You press your open palms to his thighs and look up to him with big needy eyes. You slowly start to move one hand up, asking permission “can I? take these off?” he nods and helps you with his belt, allowing you to take care of the zipper and buttons. As he takes a moment to pool his pants down at his ankles, you seize the opportunity to let the top of your dress slide down a little, revealing your upper half.

“I knew I would like you better out of that dress,” Peter jokes, but the underlying tone in his voice goes right to your core, growing wetter and wetter the more he looks at you. Noticing the already wet patch at the tip of Peter’s boxers, you lean forward once more and lick a stripe up his clothed member, “and I think I’m gonna like you better out of these too” you comment back.

Throwing his head back at the sudden contact, Peter brings his hands to your hair, holding it back for you but not forcefully. You were taking your time with him, feeling him through his boxers until his tip began to poke out of the top waistband. Taking that as your cue, you slide down his underwear, joining them with his dress pants around his ankles. You were a little intimidated by his size, certainly a bit larger than any dick you had taken before, but your theme of the night was confidence and you tried to not let it shake you.

You take a hold of his base, making sure to look up at him as you lick a long stripe up the underside of his hard cock. “Fuck y/n you look so fucking good like that” Peter praises you as you start to slowly pump his dick. Taking his head between your lips and starting to match rhythm with your hand, you started sucking his dick like you never had before. There was something in you that wanted to make him feel good, that wanted this to be memorable for him, you wanted to give this boy the best goddamned blowjob of his life.

Tears form in the corners of your eyes, surely ruining your perfect makeup. You give it more and more as you take as much of him as will fit down your throat. Continuing to pump the remaining shaft with your hand, you bob your head as tightly and as deep as your throat will allow. The soft mumbles and profanities that fall from his lips encourage you to keep going, letting you know that you are doing a good job. You like the way his grip on your hair slightly tightens, showing you that he likes what you are doing.

Picking up speed, and now jerking him off with both hands as your mouth takes care of the rest, you feel his hips buck forward slightly. “Fuck y/n I’m close, I’m gonna…” Peter moans, and starts to pull away from you to come into your hands, but you lean forward, continuing to suck him off, taking his cum deep in your throat as he unloads into you.

“Shit y/n that was…that was so fucking… you really didn’t have to do that” he says, still catching his breath.

“I know, but I wanted to,” you respond, licking your lips seductively.

“That was so fucking amazing, I…,”he says, hands running through his hair and straightening out his button up. He picks up his phone from where it had landed on the ground, noticing a slew of new messages.

“Fuck,” he looks at you apologetically, “I gotta get back in there, only for a little bit, but I owe you one, because that was fucking amazing so please don’t go,” he rambles as he frantically puts his dress pants back on and adjusts his belt. You also fix your dress, covering yourself back up. “I mean it,” he says to you with sincere eyes right before dashing out the door.

You head into the nearest bathroom and fix yourself up. The pool between your legs had basically ruined the underwear you were wearing, and your makeup was close to gone. You tossed your hair up, fixed up your face although your lips were still a little red and puffy. The thought crossed your mind to just head home, let this be a one-time thing that he can remember, but your purse was in the ballroom, so you had to at least make it back for that.

Entering the event hall, the room was at a hush as someone on stage was making a speech. You didn’t think much of it, keeping your head down and looking for your bag, until you heard the familiar voice of your boss on the mic. “Thank you so much to Mr. Stark for giving us this amazing opportunity…” You turn your head to see your boss and Tony stark shaking hands, with a row of people standing behind them on stage, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, people you commonly knew as the Avengers. Your eyes travel down the line of them only to land on Peter.

Why had you not realized this before. The passing comments, the thing about the Antarctica mission. As your eyes land on him, he is looking directly at you, a smug smirk across that gorgeous face. He shoots you a wink and your mouth drops slightly. You had just blown one of earth’s mightiest heroes. You had just sucked off Spiderman.

#fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman smut #spider man smut #peter parker x y/n #tom holland smut #this is questionable #marvel smut #marvel

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d-issent · 4 years

Text

‘Dissent’ – Rough plot outline. Chapters 1, 2, 3 and 4.

Sodor is a supposed ‘safe haven’ where things are a lot better than the rest of the world, after a terrible disease strikes the planet and wipes out a staggering and concerning percentage of the human race, there are very few safe parts of the planet left. At a loss as to what to do, people from all over the world finally put aside any differences and set out to both recover from the damage the disease had caused, and find a way to keep the world running and operational while the human race is given a chance to recover.

The solution? Make machines with sentience, to carry out each and every job that humanity now finds itself quite unable to do, since there are so few of them left.

‘Dissent’ was a work of fiction intending to focus on the rules of robotics, and how, perhaps out of desperation on the part of humans, those rules end up twisted and sometimes completely broken.

It was, simply; a ‘humanised’ and dark take on Thomas the Tank Engine, if you can even call that simple. I wasn’t intending for the story to be a particularly long one, or to be one that was taken seriously, but I believe I made a bit of a mistake in thinking that I could make a whole comic depicting the story. But hopefully with this rough plot outline, I can at least tell the story I intended to tell, maybe one day I’ll have the time and the resources to pick up this story again, but for now I hope this will suffice for anybody who was left disappointed.

1. Who on Earth was Smudger?

The story of Dissent happens in two parts, one for the build up to the main climax, and the second to gradually come down from that climax. I’ll be popping the first four chapters into this post, and carrying on in another post, so I’m not giving you guys literal walls here.

The story focuses largely on Duke’s neck of the woods, the Mid Sodor Railway, but in the era before Stuart/Peter Sam and Falcon/Sir Handel showed up; mainly it was going to focus on the turbulent and painful relationship between Duke, Stanley(NG) and perhaps the most elusive character in the whole story; Smudger.

‘Dissent’ begins much like the ‘Sleeping Beauty’ story of canon begins; with a team of rescuers setting out to find the legendary ‘Duke’, an engine built for the Duke of Sodor, who I imagine was quite a kindly man, who’s character and morals Duke emulated quite a lot, or at least tried to emulate.

I remember deciding that the reason Duke why was stored away when humanity really needed every single engine it could get it hands on – was because he was an older model – as time went on and as humanity got better and better at making these sentient machines, Duke would have eventually been considered a very early model, still completely functional, but a little cumbersome compared to newer, modern models. I believe that the main reason for his rescue was the sentimental value attached to him, the Duke of Sodor was no doubt a very important man to the people of Sodor in such trying times.

Again, much like ‘Sleeping Beauty’, the rescuers find Duke after one of their party falls through the roof of his shed, they light his fire in order for him to wake up and regain the ability to talk, and soon explain to him who they are and why they’re here.

As the story goes, Duke is returned to the Skarloey railway, where he is first reunited with Stuart and Falcon, now named Peter Sam and Sir Handel.

Duke has quite a lot of trouble with these name changes, the two younger engines put it down to him being old and having “so much to remember already!” but Duke’s memory issues play quite a big role in the first part of ‘Dissent’.

All seems well and good, until Duke falls asleep (as if he hadn’t got enough in his shed.) and wakes up to find that two new engines have returned home from the day’s work; the two oldest on the railway, Rheneas and Skarloey, the latter of which strikes up a conversation.

Skarloey talks a lot, he’s hasty to introduce himself and welcome Duke to the railway, also to make a passing comment on how “It’s quite nice to have someone our age around here; we’ve had quite a ride with the younger engines, haven’t we Rheneas?”

Rheneas makes a point to keep to himself until now, so Duke – half asleep still – probably hasn’t focused on the other engine as of yet. But when he does, something very large, and very unpleasant stirs in his mind. Groggy as he is, he scrambles up from his chair and grasps Rheneas’ hands in his.

“I haven’t seen you in decades, Smudger!”

There’s silence.

Skarloey is the first to break it, though he doesn’t sound quite as chipper as before; which is to be expected since there’s an excitable stranger yelling at his best friend. He gently prises Duke off of Rheneas with a calm explanation; “Duke? This is Rheneas, our number 2. I don’t think either of us have ever met you before, perhaps… You’re mistaking him for some other engine?”

Rheneas is understandably shaken up, but he gladly accepts the apology from Duke, he’s an old engine himself and he’s probably seen weirder shit in all of his time on Sodor. Duke stays subdued for the rest of the evening, even after the rest of the engines finish up work, and even after Peter Sam and Sir Handel do their best to make him feel at home, Duke’s mind is stuck on one, disturbing question.

“Who on earth was ‘Smudger’?”

2. The Old Warrior.

There’s a brief time skip of about three weeks I think I decided, and the next scene starts out with Duke dreaming a confusing set of dreams.

It’s the same series of dreams he’s been having ever since he arrived at the Skarloey railway. He’s back in the sheds at Mid Sodor, he’s not alone in the room however, there’s another engine in the shed, fiddling about with a phonograph sitting on a small wooden table. His paint job definitely looks green to Duke, but when he crosses the room to greet his fellow engine, it always turns out to be Rheneas, looking incredibly confused…

Duke wakes to utter bedlam in the Skarloey sheds, rock n’ roll rider Duncan won’t shut up about something; a new engine coming to the railway? Damn, fair dos. Duncan’s friend and possibly also his part-time counsellor, Rusty explains to Duke that Duncan is upset about a ‘ghost engine’ coming to work on the Skarloey railway, an engine who was found lurking about an old mine. Duncan is convinced that the engine is some demonic entity, but – as usual – all it takes is a few words from Rusty to get him to pipe down.

The so-called ‘demonic’ engine is also known as the Old Warrior, though – like in canon – his name is Bertram, and nobody quite knows how he even got to the mines in the first place. Mister Percival – who has managed to escape the disease that has ravaged humanity somehow– explains to the engines that Bertram will be joining them to assist with the workload, since he really doesn’t have anywhere to go. Duke chats idly with a concerned Peter Sam about the state of Duke’s boiler – which is giving him quite a considerable amount of trouble, so considerable in fact that it’s now become pretty difficult for him to do the same work as the others. As is always the case with Thomas the Tank Engine, there’s “no money to repair him” so Duke has to make do with a shoddy ass boiler.

As the day goes on, and the sun starts going down, Bertram arrives, and the first thing he does besides let Mister Percival welcome him, is give Duke the filthiest look he can muster, so filthy in fact that it takes Peter Sam and Sir Handel aback, the latter worriedly asks;

“Have you met him before, Granpuff? It looks like he recognises you.”

Duke denies any knowledge of Bertram, but still chooses to give him a wide birth until that evening, when everyone is back inside the sheds, and he kind of can’t steer clear of him any longer. Duncan however is still doing his very best to stay the hell away from Bertram, but the latter is a little preoccupied with talking to Rheneas and Skarloey, mainly about his time in the mines, and how he got his nickname, “The Old Warrior.”

Duke – in spite of himself – snorts a little at this title, which of course pisses Bertram RIGHT off. The two have a little mini stand off in the sheds, with Bertram telling the old man to do one, and Duke telling him to “watch your tongue young’un, I’m very important to this railway.”

However, throughout the argument, Duke’s memory jolts again, and for a second he’s standing back in the sheds on Mid Sodor, arguing with someone, he can’t make out the engine’s face, but their fists are clenched and they’re yelling fit to burst.

The argument eventually ends with Bertram storming out of the sheds, and Duncan slyly commenting; “Oy, lads, I’ve changed my mind. I like him.”

3. Rain, rain, go away.

The following day, Duke is left alone in the sheds because of his boiler, and because of the rain PISSING down. Everybody else complains loudly about having to go out in it, but they’re all young-ish and in perfect working order so they all leave. Duke is left alone with nothing but his thoughts of Bertram after saying a quick goodbye to Peter Sam and Sir Handel, but those thoughts are quickly interrupted by Bertram himself as the Old Warrior comes crashing through the shed doors, soaking wet, and demanding to be given a towel to dry himself off with; he’s panicked and almost deranged.

Duke, still salty but generally being a kindly soul, makes sure to help Bertram dry himself off, all the while giving him breathing exercises, telling him to empty his mind – kinda useless shit – but it helps to calm Bertram down, and soon the latter is completely dry. He’s embarrassed, but he begrudgingly explains himself to Duke.

“I don’t like water. I can take rain, but when it’s lashing down like this, I can’t stand it. It suffocates me, I can’t see where I’m going and I can feel the stuff seeping into the grate on my back, even if I’ve closed it. I hate it, and don’t think I’m about to tell you why; it’s personal.”

Duke doesn’t ask, he’s not about to repeat last night after all, and soon enough Bertram relaxes, and Duke finds him to be oddly agreeable. Bertram quietly strikes up a conversation about how and why Duke was found, and the two talk for a little while, however at some point Duke mentions his weird ass dreams, and Bertram’s interest is immediately piqued. The Old Warrior asks Duke if there was anything he had forgotten, and of course Duke insists that his memory is fine, but he offers to ‘humour’ Bertram, and asks him what he would have him do if he had in fact forgotten something.

Bertram ponders if Duke had left anything of importance behind in his shed back on Mid Sodor. It’s an oddly specific question, but trust me, it isn’t just specific by pure chance, Bertram clearly knows something, but Duke’s mind really isn’t in a position to think about it in depth. Instead, he ponders back to his old shed, and soon realises that there were a few things he had forgotten to ask the rescuers to bring up to Skarloey; a picture of his Grace the Duke of Sodor, a few books, and a little, unexciting black box that he kept on the bottom shelf next to his books.

Duke is completely unaware as to why his brain has singled out that particular box, but Bertram immediately pounces on it, demanding that Duke go and get it immediately. Duke reluctantly agrees, mainly on the basis that if his brain coughed that box up out of everything else he had owned on Mid Sodor, it must be important.

Soon, the pair reach a bit of a truce, and apologies are exchanged about the previous night, they carry on talking until the rain stops, and Bertram is able to go back out and resume his work.

He doesn’t, though, preferring instead to sit with Duke.

4. Miss Cora.

New character oh boy.

A woman is trying to come into the Skarloey Railway, she’s visiting from her usual residence, which is quite a long way out of town. She’s been stopped at a checkpoint and is having her ID scrutinised, she’s incredibly annoyed at this, and the fact that they’re checking her luggage is also souring her temper. She demands to be let through faster, but the people checking her insist that they need to take all necessary precautions to make sure that the virus that put down so much of humanity isn’t on her in any way.

As they do this, she begrudgingly gives her reason as to why she’s visiting; the current head of the Sodor Railway, Sir Topham Hatt II, is apparently ‘not long for this world’, and he intends to make her the next controller, as her family and his family have been close for decades. The men are a little suspicious as to why Sir Topham Hatt is choosing her instead of his son, but she shuts them down; “His son is otherwise occupied. Why are you so startled at this, gentlemen? Is it because I am a woman?”

Which, shuts them up pretty quickly.

Soon enough, she’s through to head up to the Skarloey Railway, and she thinks briefly that business can wait, she’s seen the news… She has an old friend to visit.

Back up at the railway itself, Peter Sam and Sir Handel have volunteered to go and get the items from Duke’s shed for him. The latter protests weakly, suggesting that he should go instead, until Sir Handel tells him to shut up.

“Listen, Granpuff, I can’t find no way to say this politely; you’re old. The trek back to Mid Sodor is long and tedious, plus everything’s overgrown… Why’d you think the guys who found you ended up having to fall on you? It’s dangerous up there.”

Duke eventually agrees to let the two go, with warnings to be very, very careful along the way, and soon they depart, leaving Duke alone in the shed once again to enjoy some peace and quiet, until Bertram barges in yet again, he’s trying to make it seem like he’s not terrified, but he’s doing a really bad job of it. He informs Duke that there’s a woman outside who wants to see him, and had he been given the chance he would’ve warned Duke against talking to her, but the mystery woman pushes her way in regardless, completely ignoring Bertram.

She sets her suitcases down, and she beams widely at the old engine. Duke – despite the fact that his memory is horseshit – recognises her almost immediately.

“Bless my boiler. Cora Patricia Tomlin… Is that really you?”

Cora was the daughter of the old Mid Sodor manager, who – though he is sadly no longer around – was a good friend to Duke, Peter Sam and Sir Handel, so the man’s daughter was also considered a friend by association. Duke is incredibly happy to see her, despite Bertram lurking about, looking as sour as old milk, the latter looks desperate to say something to Duke, but after a while he realises that there’s no point in trying, and he leaves the shed in a huff. It’s just a little thing he does…

Cora seems a little relieved at the disappearance of Bertram, and soon sits down to chat with Duke about the old times. The conversation includes the news of her possibly becoming the railway’s next controller – on which Duke congratulates her thoroughly – the state of humanity now that the virus finally seems to be dying down, the weather, and the state of Duke’s gosh darn memory. This particular part of the conversation seems to quieten Cora down, and for the first time since her appearance on Sodor, she seems a little lost for words.

Eventually, after gentle prompting from Duke, she lays a hand on his arm and speaks to him softly.

“The situation with your memory is no good. But there is also no good in pursuing the past, my advice to you is to move past your time at Mid Sodor, there’s no point in going back there. Perhaps your inability to let go is because you keep dwelling on it, preoccupy yourself with other things, Duke, you’re far too good of an engine to be wrapped up in the past.”

Her words – as bullshit as they are – make some half assed sense to Duke, and he agrees with her that he has been thinking about his time on Mid Sodor rather a lot. Those times were the times in which he was happiest after all, spending time with Stuart and Falcon on their own little railway, truly he doesn’t like this change, but it’s as Cora says, he has to move on.

He briefly mentions Peter Sam and Sir Handel’s little expedition back to Mid Sodor to fetch his things, which for some reason greatly sours Cora’s mood. She asks him why he would ever think to do such a thing, and he doesn’t know how to respond, she tells him firmly that bringing objects back from his shed will do nothing but worsen the problem, and instructs him to burn the items when they arrive, as part of the process of moving on.

Eager to get himself out of the mist fogging up his brain, Duke agrees, and promises to destroy the items the second Peter Sam and Sir Handel bring them back, even though every single circuit, servo, gear and cog inside of him is screaming at him not to.

Cora soon takes her leave, but not before she once again reminds Duke to get rid of the pieces coming back from Mid Sodor, it’s time to stop living in the past.

Everyone else comes back the sheds that evening, besides Peter Sam and Sir Handel – but that’s to be expected. However, there appears to be no sign of Bertram either…

#there's gonna be more parts so dw #just #bear w me lmao I'm tryna remember this aaaaa #I got a rough idea of what I wanted to happen!#TTTE #Thomas The Tank Engine #Thomas the Train #Thomas and Friends #Mid Sodor Railway

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vias-words · 4 years

Note

Can we get directors commentary on forty years?

Ooh, I’m excited to talk about this one! It’s definitely one of my favorite fics I’ve written. I was up way past the time I normally go to sleep to write this because once I got on a roll with it, I didn’t want to stop! I have SO much to talk about so buckle up and let’s get started :)

Spoiler warning! I will be putting the commentary below the cut since it will give away the whole plot. But here is the link if anyone wants to read along!

Forty Years by Vias_words on AO3

The idea came to me when I was thinking about the quote "Still, if I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal darkness with, I'd choose you." I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of act 4 compared to the other acts. I think it’s got a little too much plot convenience in it which always irked me a bit as a writer. I totally understand why it’s done this way because it’s made for the stage and works on the stage (Forty Years definitely would not) but on paper I wasn’t thrilled. But, it does have some lovely quotes. So I started wondering about alternatives to act 4, specifically focusing on the Scorpius line about being companions and Albus’ line right before it: "As pleasurable as it will be to hide in a hole with you for the next forty years...”

What if Albus and Scorpius couldn’t find a way to send a message to Harry and Ginny? What if they were well and truly stuck in the past?

I could have taken this in the dark route that was intended by “the return of eternal darkness” but that would require the whole wizarding history to be changed and that was a little too ambitious. Plus, I really wanted to focus on the relationship between Albus and Scorpius over the years, specifically as “companions” both trapped in this weird world where the only other person they can really trust to understand their situation is each other. So I decided to go on a more domestic route with a mix of fluff and angst, which still required Delphi to be defeated.

I didn’t want Albus and Scorpius to kill her: they’re far too young and innocent to have to go through that. Not to mention, they don’t have their wands. So I needed a magicless alternative way for them to defeat her. Bathilda was specifically mentioned in the play and I thought that was a perfect opportunity for them to go to her to seek help. I also loved the idea of this little old lady straight-up murking Delphi for these two strange boys from the future. I think it would be hard to convince her at first because she’s a very smart witch and this sounds entirely crazy but I think seeing Albus and making the connection to James and Lily (she lived right next door and went to Harry’s first birthday party!) could convince her. Plus it was a nice call back to everyone comparing Harry to his parents. And Albus is able to accept the fact that he looks so much like his father and be able to use it for good for once, rather than hating the attention it brought him. We love a bit of sneaky character development!

After the threat of Delphi is gone, it really hits the boys that they are trapped in time. As far as they know, there is no other time tuner and there’s no way for their parents to know where they are. There would definitely be a long period of mourning before they could adjust which is why I thought that living with Bathilda would be the best option. No one else can know about their situation and I think she’d be very caring to the boys as if they were her own grandsons. But she’d eventually want them to go back to Hogwarts for a bit of a normal childhood and so they could learn more magic. I liked the idea of their new lives at Hogwarts feeling flipped from how it was back in their timeline. No one knows who they are so they aren’t bullied and are able to make more friends. It’s a small but impactful benefit in their new lives but still takes a toll on them because they can’t truly be themselves--they are Syrus and Alaric and have to stick to some weird made-up backstory.

From what they know about time travel as laid out by the place (not so much the rules in POA), one little misstep, like talking to Hermione at the first task or embarrassing Cedric, can make a huge impact on the future. They don’t want that to happen again. If they make too much of an impact on someone else’s life or in the world, they risk changing history for even which, at worst, could lead to their parent's lives being affected or to Albus or Scorpius not being born at all. Their goal is just to make it through life to get back to their parents in 2020 so they can explain what happened. They aren’t really able to see themselves having a normal life or future as much as they might want it.

That doesn’t stop them from trying, of course. Scorpius definitely wants to when he starts dating Elaine. Albus disapproves of this from the start. He justifies his feelings by saying it’s just because of the timeline but it’s actually rooted his feelings for Scorpius. He’d jealous that someone else--who, by all means technically shouldn’t know they exist--is getting the attention that he wants.

The relationship and the general stress on the boys would definitely cause them to lash out at each other eventually. We see this at the train station. But even when they fight, they always come back around because, in the end, they are bound by their experiences. They are the only people they can be themselves around and are closer than anyone else. Their secrecy eventually leads to Elaine breaking up with Scorpius. He can’t open up to her, or introduce her to his family, and is obviously hiding something. I think Scorpius knew their breakup was inevitable, but it was nice to pretend to have a normal life for once and Elaine was that escape he needed.

Albus is the opposite in a way, he seeks comfort from what he knows about his old life--thinking about reuniting with his family, looking back on his Hogwarts experience in his own timeline, and, of course, leaning of Scorpius for support. On the other hand, Scorpius tries to fit in more in his new life by making friends and being with Elaine--thinking of his own timeline I think upsets him more because he’s reminded that his father is all alone. But with their two viewpoints, they balance each other out. It switches sometimes, which is only natural, but there is always one of them acting as the voice of reason which is so desperately needed.

That being said, their future is still so unclear to them that it’s hard to judge just what is reasonable and what is the correct way to go about things--this has never really happened before and it’s not like they can get advice from anything. One line that sticks out to me from chapter 8 is Albus saying, "I don't know what's best anymore. No one does." Being confused and having their pent up mixed feelings about the world is such a huge thing in their lives. So when Scorpius kisses Albus, he immediately thinks it’s a mistake. We find out later why--he’s afraid that Albus will break up with him and he’ll be alone for real. But in the moment, he’s confused--is this the best choice or has he just messed everything up? He can’t lose Albus in the way he lost Elaine. Not to mention the different views in the 80′s (I considered mentioning the AIDs crisis but that seemed a bit too heavy and I wasn’t confident that I could do it justice, but it is an important thing to remember about this time).

As always Albus and Scorpius, can’t stay mad for long and still go on to live together after Hogwarts. I purposely put in a time gap, in between which Albus would likely hold some resentment towards that night when he got so close to having Scorpius share his feelings. But he can’t lose his best friend so they stay together with the lingering awkwardness between them. During that time, going to the muggle world seemed like the best option as they would be much less likely to affect anything in their parent's lives as they would be in the wizarding world. I wanted to give them jobs that they’d like but would also not make a huge impact on time. In the story, they don’t know about the other time turner but I wanted to make sure that once their parents are able to go back and rescue them, very few lives would be majorly impacted after the loss of “Syrus” and “Alaric” (ex. if Scorpius became a healer and helped cure people, if he was erased from the timeline, those people might end up never being helped). Librarian works for geeky Scorpius and bartender works for my headcanon of Albus being good at potions. During this time we get a peek at domestic Scorbus, their pining, and Albus’ jealousy when Scorpius gets attention from women. Although Scorpius wouldn’t date anyone because of the timeline (and his crush on Albus), the fact that he has the potential to date makes Albus upset because he doesn’t think he has the same chances. He blames it on the time they live in but really, I’m sure he could find a man, but he’s too stuck on his feelings for Scorpius to ever try.

For 1994, I opened with Albus describing himself as looking too much like his father. I think that would be something he struggles with because it reminds him of home and how long it’s been since he’s actually seen his father--but yet he still sees him every time he passes a mirror. (This drawing of adult Albus by Marisdrawings was stuck my head writing this)I took more time to describe how Albus looks/dresses here because I like to think the 90s would be his favorite decade in terms of style. I also wanted to show how he’s changed from an angsty insecure wizard to being much more confident in himself as an adult living as a muggle. But he’s still got that edge to him which I think never truly fades. And Scorpius loves that. I believe that he sees Albus as having more confidence that him--feeling more comfortable with his life and sexuality than Scorpius does. And that’s very attractive to him because it’s what he wants most in life--confidence and stability. It’s what they’ve both need and find in each other. But when Scorpius kisses him again he is reminded of all his insecurities and fears, especially when Albus gets angry again. Albus doesn’t want a repeat of last time and Scorpius thinks that, by acting on his feelings, Albus will eventually leave him. I just loved this chapter so much because this is where the floodgates finally break open and everything that’s been pent up finally spills out. They do love each other and always have and finally, they can accept it and come together.

I knew I wanted to write a chapter in 1998 because that’s a huge year in wizarding history, especially for their parents. That whole decade, they’ve been keeping up with the news, knowing their parents are out there living the lives they grew up hearing about. It would be a struggle, especially for Albus, to stay disconnected from that. He wishes he could witness more of his father’s life to understand him better or to give him some help--or just to see his family again. It’s tempting but they still have 20 years to go until they can see them again. There’s no alternative to the path they chose to take now--it’s just a waiting game.

But, as much as Albus might wish he could be back in his own timeline, there’s so much he’s thankful for in his new life. He’s with Scorpius, living a life on his own, and he could never regret that. But he also sees the mistakes he made as a child and realizes he can’t just call up his father an apologize for their arguments and tell him he always loved him--he’s matured a lot since his father last saw him. There’s both good and bad in their lives and he just has to accept that and find happiness in what he has.

Fast forward to 2007. Scorpius is a plant dad, a dog dad, and now wants to be a real dad. He’s so caring and just wants to care for something else, especially as an adult seeing other people his age with kids. He wants that for him and Albus too--to have that bit of normalcy in their relationship and to give a child the love he’d lost after he got stuck in time. There is a possibility that they could have adopted a kid since, in their minds, they would never get their old lives back (and a muggle child wouldn’t affect his father’s life much if at all), buuuut as the writer, I knew what the ending would be. I couldn’t have a child lose their fathers when the timeline was repaired. If they had a kid, they never would have decided to be rescued back in 1981. The life of their child would matter more than fixing their own.

Going off of that, I remember someone commented about them considering having children before marriage which brings us to the proposal in 2014. As out of order as it may have seemed, gay marriage wasn’t legal until 2014 and the time they would most likely have kids would be between their 30s and 40s. By 2014, they are almost 50 and have basically already been husbands for years now--just not legally. If anything, the proposal is more of a gesture, since their relationship has already been as close as a married couple--their soulmates, together for life whether the government recognizes that or not. But I loved the idea of them going back to Godric’s Hollow since it’s their childhood home. A lot of bad happened there but a lot of good did too. It was the start of their story and this is their way of associating one of their happiest memories in a place that also contained their worst. Reclaiming it in a way, I guess.

And the lights in this scene--from the streetlamps to the colorful glow of the stained glass--also have meaning. Albus calls Scorpius his light, referencing back to the “eternal darkness” and, one of my favorite lines “light in the darkness.” It really emphasizes how they found the good, especially in each other, in the darkness of their lives.

Finally, 2020...there’s a lot to unpack here but this is already such a long post that I will try to keep it short. This day would be so surreal to them--they’ve waited so long and pictured the day they could finally reunite with their families. But they also know that their understanding of the events would be completely different than their parents, who have only been missing their children for a few hours not years. In fact, Albus and Scorpius are more mature than their parents which is weird to think about--they are older and have lived a whole crazy life that their parents would never be able to fully understand. And their parents almost don’t even recognize them (I mean, if your 14-year-old son showed up on your doorstep suddenly 40 years older, would you?!). But, calling back to the first chapter, it’s Albus’ eyes that causes Ginny to be the first to accept their story.

I like that they are able to joke about the situation a bit because it shows how they’ve accepted what became of their life. Sure, it’s a real shock to their parents but Albus and Scorpius have spent more time as Alaric and Syrus than they ever did as themselves in their own timeline. This became their new normal, despite all the years they wanted to reject the truth of the matter.

Albus and Scorpius would have told them about their whole lives if there hadn’t been the second time turner. But it became more special, something to keep between them, once it was accepted that they would be rescued. They’d accepted their lives, yes, but they knew it wasn’t the life they were meant to live. They were happy with it enough to give it up--give them the chance to live again with their families, with a better chance of happiness and less hardship. And for their parents--who would miss out on the entire lives of their children if they hadn’t gone back.

Harry, Ginny, and Draco would always remember the visit from the old Scorpius and Albus, so it was better that they didn’t know the whole of what took place in those 40 years--once they were rescued, that whole timeline would be extinct anyway. They wanted their families to have very little knowledge of what happened to them because it would leave them with little expectations of the boys--free to experience life alongside them with no preconceived notions or understandings of what might become of them. To see how time would play out on its own, with no influence from alternate versions of themselves.

They are satisfied with what they have and accepted that this is where their current lives would effectively end, but they are willing to give that up for the prospect of an even better future. Deep down, I’m sure that they know they will be together no matter the timeline. Which is why only Ginny is told that (or, rather figures out that) they are married--Albus and Scorpius want to be able to get together and come out on their own without their parents already expecting them to be together and out of all the parents--that’s such a big and important moment for them that they want their younger selves to experience naturally. I think Ginny would be the best at keeping that secret.

The scene when they are finally left alone, facing their pending fate was one I had in my head from the very start--what I’d originally written down when I came up with the idea. As I said, it’s bittersweet. But they are together, and that’s all that matters to them because they know that together they can face any challenge. In a way, it’s not Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy who are “dying”--it’s Alaric and Syrus Bagshot (and yes, Albus definitely took the name Bagshot when they got married to honor Bathilda.) So when they fade out of existence, they are satisfied with what they have and are looking forward to what their next life will bring--their real life. This is the eternal darkness they knew they’d have to face, it’s just forty years later than they expected. But this time, they are ready for it because the darkness isn’t all that bad.

Do I want to cry rereading this? Maybe...But I love it just the same.

And I almost left it there and made it an open ending. But I’m not that evil and thought there should be some closure, so I brought it full circle back to 1981. Albus is lamenting about the situation just long enough to feel an extreme amount of joy and relief when his parents show up. It will still be a lesson and experience they will never forget, but it’s far less traumatizing than what they went through in the other timeline. And I don’t think anyone will tell them about what happened until they are much older--perhaps Ginny will mention it shortly after their wedding day once everything comes together as they should.

---

WOW that was a whole ass essay, I’m sorry to just unload that on you when you probably only wanted something half this size!! I just really feel passionate about this story and could go on about it forever so I apologize for this rambling mess. I feel like an English teacher, picking out all the meaning and symbolism I didn’t even realize I’d written but there’s just so much that can be said. Anywayyysss hopefully I didn’t bore you to sleep, I just love my boys sm...

That concludes my TED talk. Thank you for this ask ❤

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fakeyellow · 5 years

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Summary: While infiltrating a British camp, Kamilah meets an unknown woman at gunpoint.

Three years later, in the midst of the Revolutionary War, Kamilah crosses paths with Genevieve Allen, youngest daughter of the prominent Loyalist family and the belle of Philadelphian society.

October 18, 1777

Kamilah weaved her way around the trees, her daggers a familiar and comforting weight against her hips.

Thanks to a loose-lipped soldier, they’d learned that the Allen family had gifted a generous amount of ale to the troops stationed in Philadelphia upon their youngest son’s appointment to lieutenant colonel of the Pennsylvanian Loyalists.

News of General Burgoyne’s surrender hadn’t yet reached them and even with their recent loss at Saratoga, there was no way the soldiers would give up a chance for some good alcohol. Which meant that tonight would be a perfect opportunity for Kamilah to sneak into their tents and pilfer their plans. Perhaps she’d even let herself indulge in more destructive urges as well.

As expected, the grounds were filled with rowdy, uproarious chatter and it was only a matter of minutes before Kamilah left the colonel’s tents, unnoticed and newly weighed down by several sheets of parchment.

It had been too easy and Kamilah felt an itch to do more.

Gaius had only asked her to steal the plans and she knew he’d be annoyed if she destroyed the battalion without his knowledge. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t leave them a passing gift.

A bark of laughter split the air and Kamilah’s eyes gleamed deviously as she decided on her next course of action. Nimbly returning to the dark of the surrounding foliage, she navigated her way to a spot that gave her an unobstructed view of the supply wagons. There was a conspicuous lack of guards; it seemed they too had joined the festivities.

She allowed a small smirk to pass across her face; sure, she had almost two thousand years on them, but at this point, it wasn’t even a challenge. It was as if the British forces were asking to be defeated.

Kamilah made to move out from the shadows when suddenly another figure stepped into the clearing. They were dressed all in black, a scarf wrapped around their face and Kamilah watched with discerning eyes as the figure cautiously tiptoed their way to the wagons.

The person quickly scanned their surroundings, making sure of their solitude before they pulled out a strange tool that Kamilah had never seen before despite all of her years. She could hear their frantic breathing from where she stood but their motions were steady and in a short amount of time, a small piece of stone fell into the depths of the wagon.

They wasted no time, growing faster and more confident as they flitted around the wagons, depositing small stones into each of them and Kamilah watched with fascination as smoke began to swirl out from them. Within a matter of minutes, growing ripples of flame began to emerge, slowly consuming the wood of the wagons and the supplies they held. The person stepped back from their work and even with the scarf covering most of their face, Kamilah could feel the sense of satisfaction emanating from them.

She couldn’t help it; Kamilah let out a small, impressed chuckle. The figure snapped towards her, quickly drawing and readying a pistol aimed straight at Kamilah’s forehead. Kamilah stood her ground, confident that she’d be able to draw her daggers and end the person’s life the second they decided to pull the trigger.

It may have been due to the flames reflected in the woman’s eyes, but even though Kamilah knew it was impossible for the woman to see her, it felt as if she was burning Kamilah with the intensity of her glare. Her arm was steady and it was only the loud crackling of the ever-growing flames that finally caused her to lower her pistol, running away.

Her presence was quickly replaced by the horde of men that rushed into the area, trying desperately to snuff out the fires. But it was too late and they were too drunk and Kamilah left them to their laments over their ruined supplies.

Her thoughts returned back to the strange woman who’d fearlessly aimed a gun at her.

How interesting.

—-

May 18, 1980

Sounds of revelry filled the large ballroom occupied by Philadelphia’s most prominent families as they celebrated the major British victory that had just been won at Charleston earlier that week. Of course, the official reason for the ball had been some general event or some such, but every attendee knew the real cause of the festivities.

The women were dressed in their best, congregated around two of their own as the men, many of whom were dressed in their uniforms, laughed amongst each other and surreptitiously glanced at the many fine women.

It was to this merry ambience that Kamilah entered, drawing all eyes to her.

Kamilah was no stranger to having eyes on her but she cursed Gaius for making her do this, putting on the airs of a high society lady when she’d rather be putting her other skills to use. Yet after the Charleston loss and with the suspicions of a high ranking spy amongst the patriotic cause, Gaius had decided that they were in need of a spy of their own.

Marcel was too young despite his impeccable courtly manners and while Vega would have been perfect for the role with his sickeningly suave demeanour, he was otherwise occupied, off in the West Indies. And Adrian had been out of the question; he was far too young and untrained to pull off the subtleties needed to deal with the elite.

It figured that Gaius’s new pet wasn’t even useful.

Nevertheless, Kamilah smoothly integrated herself into the ballroom, falling into the persona of Kamilah Walton, the rich and freshly widowed Loyalist from New York.

As the new person of interest, she let herself be shepherded to the young woman who seemed to be at the centre of attention: Peggy Shippen.

Peggy Shippen was an interesting woman in a very interesting position. She came from one of Philadelphia’s wealthiest families, her father a staunch Loyalist, but the last year, she had wedded General Benedict Arnold, one of the heroes of the patriotic cause. And yet somehow, she managed to balance these two roles, somehow maintaining her favour and reputation in both circles.

This was a woman Kamilah wanted to keep her eyes on.

“Mrs. Walton, I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. Your husband was a very proper man,” Peggy said, the utter modicum of modesty. Her hair was curled in tight little ringlets, her pale cheeks dusted with petal pink powder.

Kamilah nodded at her, “Thank you. Although, I couldn’t help but notice your husband’s absence tonight. It’s a pity, I would have liked to meet him.”

Peggy smiled winningly, only the slightest hint of irritation in her eyes, “Yes, well he is in high demand…”

She trailed off before excitedly latching onto a new distraction, “Oh, I must introduce you to my two dearest friends. This is Major John André and Genevieve Allen.”

A couple whirled in from the dance floor, their cheeks flushed pink with exertion and excitement. The handsome man introduced himself but Kamilah found herself ignoring him completely in favour for the woman at his side.

She was at once transported to another time, another place that was not so stuffy as this ballroom, the unending chatter replaced with the crackling of flames.

In contrast to their first meeting, she was in a fine, pastel dress, her chestnut hair flowing down her shoulders in a less restrained, half-up style. But there was no denying the sparkling green of her eyes.

This was the woman who had set fire to the British supplies three years ago.

—-

Genevieve Allen was a very popular woman and she danced many times with John André and other men before Kamilah had the chance to speak with her alone.

Kamilah slinked next to the woman who seemed to be catching her breath at the sidelines of the ballroom, and quickly making sure they were out of earshot of everyone, she whispered amusedly.

“Have you set any more supply wagons on fire? Or was that a one-time thing?”

Kamilah had to give it to her. Genevieve showed no signs of recognition or surprise, her breathing steady as she turned to look at Kamilah innocently.

“Why Mrs. Walton, whatever do you mean?”

Kamilah smirked and walked away, nonchalantly turning her head to say, “Call me Kamilah.”

There was nothing more that she wanted to accomplish tonight.

—-

The next day, Kamilah woke and lazily stretched before making her way out of bed. Her lips curled in distaste when she saw the strength of the sun’s rays behind the heavy curtains she’d brought but she made her way down to the parlour anyway.

That was the price she’d have to pay in order to successfully infiltrate the upper echelons of society. She’d have to cover herself as best she could between her walks to and from carriages as she called upon the other ladies.

At last, her eyes caught upon the card placed on her hallway table, courtesy of the single servant she’d paid for. Picking it up, Kamilah scanned the elegant design on the porcelain calling card before turning it over to read its content.

“The company of Mrs. Kamilah Walton is requested at Ms. Genevieve Allen's parlour for tea on Tuesday evening, May 20, 1780, at 1 o'clock.”

—-

A/N: The last fragment scene with Kamilah wouldn’t leave my mind so I had to write this. It’s the story of Kamilah with one of her lovers during the past Revolutionary War. The MC was inspired by a really cool historical figure that I'll reveal in the next chapter.

I really like doing research to make my stories realistic but I just don’t have the time to do it. So this isn’t going to be an accurate depiction of what people did then. If you know a lot about this time period and you want to correct me, tell me and I’ll fix it. Otherwise, I’m taking a lot of artistic liberties.

I will say I couldn’t keep myself from doing a little research so Genevieve Allen is the fictional youngest, 7th child of William Allen, a prominent Loyalist. Peggy Shippen, Benedict Arnold, John André are all real historical figures that I’m playing with. The dates are in line with the timeline of the Revolutionary War.

Genevieve was using a fire piston to start the fires, which wasn’t a tool really known in the US/Europe yet. It was used more commonly in Asia.

There’ll be around 2 more chapters?

#playchoices #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #bloodbound #plain disrespectful #my writing

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pyropsychiccollector · 5 years

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Yep. I threw up another tier, this time for Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair. Once again, I'll go through each character and explain my rationale. This one was a little tougher for some characters; like, overall, Dangan 2 did a better job of fleshing out characters. As a result, it was harder for me to rank some characters higher than others, but I somehow managed to do so after some thought.

.... But for some characters, it was seriously a no-brainer where they went. XD

F rank - Komaeda..... Now, I know what some of you are thinking, last time I put Hagakure in this dead-last rank because he was useless, so that's probably true for Komaeda, right? ..... No. Fuck no. XD This little shit is F rank for much bigger problems than uselessness. Let's start with the obvious: He's the "Togami" of the group. He fucks up the trials, but not just for amusement like Togami did - this guy did it for the sake of pitting "Hope against Hope", and you just knew he was always up to something.... If it wasn't for him, Hanamura wouldn't have been pressured into murdering, at least not so soon. They tied him up in the second chapter, which was good, but then he still managed to throw a wrench into things by encouraging Koizumi to go and play the video game that was the motive for the chapter... This didn't directly lead into the incident necessarily, but Koizumi had already received that ominous letter from Peko and Kuzuryu, telling her to play the game and how to get the true ending; Komaeda spurring her further on DIDN'T help. He redeemed himself a little by figuring out Mikan was lying in trial 3, but then he took 5000 steps backward in chapter 4 by first throwing suspicion onto Hajime in regards to the identity of the traitor, and THEN he cleared the Final Dead Room and treated everyone - EVERYONE - like shit..... But especially Hajime, who had only thought he'd lost his memory of his talent. Hajime, who had been helping solve all the trials and prove that he could stand alongside Ultimates.... It's fine and all that Komaeda was the first one to discover they were all Ultimate Despair, and therefore hated they'd turned out like that, but he had absolutely no high ground to stand on when talking shit to everyone; he himself was Ultimate Despair as well. And the cherry on top.... was how he got Chiaki to murder him in chapter 5. Through sheer luck, and the intention of killing off Ultimate Despair when they had no clue as to the extent of their loss of memories. Some sympathize with the fact he may have some life-threatening illness, and he really had the best of intentions, and was just "misunderstood".... But no, not me. Fuck that.

F is for "Fuck You, Komaeda". lol

Anyway, moving onto E rank.... Akane is kind of like the "Hagakure" of the group, only her physical talent as a gymnast puts her leagues ahead of Hagakure in usefulness. Akane's simply E rank because she's one of the reasons the trials drag on so much, makes few worthwhile contributions, and just isn't all that deep of a character.... I'll never get over how "random" her free time events seemed.... Like, she's a fun girl, I suppose; perverted in her own naïve way. There's just not much substance for me to dig into, for her character.

Saionji's kinda similar in that regard.... Though I'll admit she does have a backstory. She's mostly in E rank because she's, as Nicob would put it, "such a bitch to everybody". Her bond with Mahiru is probably her one saving grace, and the only reason she's not F rank like Komaeda, in my books. Well, that, and she kind of warms up to Hajime in her free time events.... kinda.

... If you squint.

.... But she's still a bitch to everybody that isn't Mahiru. XD

D rank.... Teruteru was honestly placed here because I like him better than Komaeda, Akane, and Saionji, but I don't like him as much as Ibuki. I mean, he's perverted as hell, and he kinda spreads himself thin when it comes to "covering his bases" with his libido, but he's still useful as a cook. Plus, his backstory with his mother who's ill is pretty sad, not to mention how it's implied he killed her when he became Ultimate Despair. Teruteru's just one of those unfortunate characters who's somewhat fleshed out, but I'm not crazy about him; he's just somewhere in the middle. ..... which may be how he likes it....

C rank.... I like Ibuki - she's fun, kooky, crazy.... Her skill in music and her sharp ears are neat, plus she just wants to get along with everyone. .... Except call Teruteru out on his antics, and maybe back away from Komaeda and his craziness. lol Still, despite all the good qualities, Ibuki's just not fleshed out enough as a character for my tastes.... She's fun, and it's sad she got murdered. But there wasn't much of a backstory to tell, and she didn't go through a huge development arc.

.... She did not want to leave her honeymoon with Hajime in island mode, though. And that was just cute. XD

B rank.... Nidai's pretty similar to Ibuki in being a fun character, but I kinda like his attitude of trying to be the class's manager - 'cause it shows he cares for everyone. He doesn't go through a huge development arc either, but it was pretty interesting seeing him adjust to being a robot and then his presumed confrontation with Tanaka in chapter 4.... I would've liked to have known more about that possible confrontation; one of my theories is that a bit of his "Ultimate Despair" self was leaking out in that clash, but probably not enough to turn out like how Mikan was, when she got the Remembering Disease. The desperation/hunger just got to him. That's my theory, anyway.

You might find it surprising Souda is this high up, considering how, like Akane, he holds up the class trials with ridiculous theories and suspicions on certain culprits. But, Souda is the Ultimate Mechanic, and it's just fun seeing his love for his craft. His obsession with Sonia is a bit grating like how Fukawa's obsession with Togami was, but, in some cases I couldn't help feeling bad with how cold/dismissive Sonia was towards him. Like, she didn't have to return his affections by any means.... And he is kind of a suck-up to her. But still, he is nothing but nice to her, and continues to believe in her (if not somewhat blindly) throughout the trials. It'd just be nice to see her reciprocate his friendship, at least. I kinda liked how it gave them a small cameo scene or two of that in Dangan 3 Hope Arc.... Again, that's me.

A rank... Hajime's a pretty good protagonist, and I think he had some nice development arcs throughout the series. He's a bit of a pessimist, in contrast to Naegi's optimism, but he's still one of the nicest guys you could meet. Probably the major thing that drags him down to A rank is simply how overly "average" he is.... like, it's to be expected - he was a Reserve Course student, and therefore had no Ultimate Talent or quirk to fall back on. But still, I'll admit the repetitive ordinariness was a bit grating.... The only real "backstory" he has is his downfall into the Kamakura Project, and even then, he kinda became a different person because of everything but talent being excised from him.

I'll admit - I like Kamakura more than Hajime himself, but I'm not really sure where I'd put Kamakura, either in S or SS rank..... A lot don't seem to care for how OP he is, but I kinda liked how Dangan 3 anime showed off his reflexes. Not to mention it showed he was a neutral party in the war of Despair vs Hope. Again, that's me.

Peko's a neat character with a badass talent. Her backstory is a little tragic and it doesn't grate too much.... She could be cute with furry animals, too (or at least hinted as such). I liked her bond with Kuzuryu, even if she mostly saw herself as just a tool. On the flip side, that mindset of being a tool is why she was dropped to A rank.... I know the Kuzuryu clan drilled that into her head, but she did try and screw everyone over in the second trial because of it. It also made her character suffer a little because she didn't have anything really outside of her loyalty to Kuzuryu and the clan (which makes sense; just makes her character suffer a little bit in having little to no quirks, hobbies, or whatever).

S rank.... I liked the Imposter. I really did. He can impersonate anyone, and make you think the person just put on a few pounds. I liked how fast they made him in the anime, and I just liked his friendship/loyalty to Mitarai and everybody. I felt like the Imposter was a pretty great character, and they introduced him in a way that made you wonder what was going on with "Togami". I liked how you knew next to nothing about the man under the masks (only saw his face/hair in the anime) - though similar to Peko, it was a bit of a double-edged sword in having no huge backstory to fall back on. But unlike Peko, he kinda made the lack of backstory work, because it was part of his charm and talent. And that's why he's above Peko, in my books; he takes a weakness and works with it. I think that's great writing.

Tanaka is so over-the-top.... XD He's a fun character, like Ibuki and Nidai, but unlike those two he has this depth to him that makes me wanna observe him more. He's a smart and shrewd man, and though he tried to screw everyone over in chapter 4, you can argue that part of his reasons for doing it was because he was trying to save them from starvation by sacrificing himself - and doing it in a way that didn't betray his own values, never giving up on life. Again, I think that's just great character writing; Tanaka's just awesome. His hamsters are cute, too. XD

And then you have Sonia.... I guess you could argue Sonia's like a Barbie doll princess, but it's kinda nice to see her gung-ho about a lot of things - even using slang in a cute way. She's curious about a lot of things, too, and she cries and gets mad over things when they happen. I dunno, Sonia's kinda hard to put into words in terms of why I like her so much as a character, though I suppose her kinda-innocent-perverted nature also plays a role in why I like her character... XD "What do you call that activity when two people snuggle naked under bedcovers in a lodge that's snowed in?" Similar to Celes, you don't see too many girls asking questions like that..... And Sonia literally has no real perverted intentions, she just "knows" things. XD

.... And she might also not be a virgin. *wink wink nudge nudge* (I read a fan's explanation on that line, so don't correct me, I know) XD

SS rank.... Kuzuryu reached this rank the moment Derek Stephen Prince voiced him, really. I mean, there's lots of other reasons I like Kuzuryu, but his voice actor is definitely one of the reasons I like him so much. I mean, he's a yakuza, so you know he's gonna be a tough guy of the group, but Kuzuryu really does have this part of a character that wants to rebel against his yakuza upbringing. Like, for example, his insistence on following the law with driver's licenses, or how he drops the "I'm gonna kill everyone so I can escape" routine as of chapter 3. Kuzuryu just really comes of age, he really honors Peko's sacrifice, and he's just so friggin' loyal to everybody, I love it.... Fantastic character~

Mahiru is a bit of a dark horse because from the moment you meet her in-game, and throughout much of your interactions with her, you think that you won't really feel sympathetic towards her. But under that bossy, somewhat sexist exterior, you find what's basically the "mom" of Class 77. Mahiru wants to watch out for everybody, wants to help them be the best they can be. And her free time events with Hajime are adorabu. Really. XD She kinda clicks with Hajime because of how ordinary they both are, but she'd also just help keep him in line. And in return, he'd encourage her when she gets disheartened; just seems like a healthy relationship right there, to me.

And Mikan.... ughhhhh..... A cinnabun of the group, she really is. She does turn out to be crazy as an Ultimate Despair, but that's not really her fault, that's the brainwashing's fault. Mikan's just a sweet, loveable girl. A sweet, loveable girl that's been bullied much of her life, and thus knows how to take care of others.... Her lack of self-care when it comes to pleasing others is a bit off-putting, but Hajime helps her get over those unhealthy tendencies. I know Dangan main protagonists kind of have this tendency for potential harems, but Hajime, Mikan, Mahiru, and Chiaki..... C'mooon~ You wanna see it happen. (well, maybe not, depending on what characters you like). XD

Finally, SSS rank..... Chiaki's just best person ever, 'nough said. lol I know a lot of people may think of her as a Mary Sue, and not like her for being so nice and loved by everyone, but Chiaki's what we should all strive to be, alright? Not the "loved by everybody" part, but the "being nice to everyone" part. lol Some people you just can't be nice to, and that's fine; we all have our limits. Well. Except Chiaki. Chiaki will be your friend even if you treat everyone like shit. She'll try and stop you from doing so, and help you be a better person, but that's just all the more reason to like her - she doesn't hold ill will for anyone..... Well, almost anyone. I suppose that's why I liked Dangan 3 anime, too - because the human Chiaki does hold resentment towards Junko, who trapped her in a dungeon and threatened to brainwash her friends.... It just shows that she DOES have a limit to kindness, despite seeming to have no end of it as a computer program. I mean, you wouldn't be kind toward someone that threatens your own friends, right?

..... Chiaki's just best waifu in Dangan 2. It's why she's the only one at the top. XD

#Danganronpa #Teruteru Hanamura #Ultimate Imposter #Akane Owari #Souda Kazuichi #Mahiru Koizumi #Peko Pekoyama #Sonia Nevermind #Hiyoko Saionji #Ibuki Mioda #Mikan Tsumiki #Tanaka Gundham #Nekomaru Nidai #Nagito Komaeda #Hajime Hinata #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu #Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu #Chiaki Nanami

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ve1vetyoongi · 6 years

Text

remember me | kth

chapters: I, II, III, IV, V

pairing: taehyung x reader

rated: T

genre: idol!au, baker!tae, french!reader, angst, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

summary: Taehyung wants to be forgotten. Overwhelmed by his life as idol persona V, he longs to just be Kim Taehyung for once. Even if that means forgetting everything he ever knew.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: mentions of blood, strong language, memory loss, eventual smut (chapters will be marked accordingly).

a/n: so this is the first installment of Remember Me! I have been working rlly hard to perfect this fic for a couple of weeks and I’m really glad I can finally share some of it! I should also note that my French is atrocious and if there are any errors I would be grateful for corrections! all the love <3

Moonlight illuminated the diamond ring in Taehyung's palm.

The Parisian alleys looked different at night time. Usually bustling with locals selling fresh fruit and flowers, dragging carts from the harbor or opening their businesses for the day, the cold silence was stark and frightening in comparison. Vintage book stores and home owned cafes lined the passages, dark and vacant due to the late hour. Taehyung had noticed his reflection in the windows as he stumbled past - in his best coat, no less - the blackness behind obscuring any transparency and providing a chilling reminder of his current predicament as he watched his own form heave against the vibrant orange but peeling paint of the small two bedroom apartment complex on the corner.

Taehyung's legs felt weak and he let them buckle, his weight sliding down until his backside rested against the freezing cobblestone. It was cold enough for a jacket in the evening, the summer sun's glorious warmth dissipating like clockwork as night time swept the small French village he found himself in. Even so, beads of sweat laced his hairline, testament to the hatred that scolded every fiber of his being. It felt like he was burning alive.

A plane trip somewhere remote seemed like a good idea to begin with. An opportunity to think things through without the burden of his status following him - or rather people. Here, nobody knew him. Taehyung was confident his idol status was unknown - after all, the phone signal was horrible and stable internet connections were few and far between. He highly doubted any of the few hundred inhabitants would recognize his face from a magazine or a music video. The only music Taehyung had heard during his time here was soft spoken French symphonies, classical opera sometimes, but definitely none of the energetic pop tracks his band was known for.

His band was part of the reason he had packed a bag and jumped on the next plane out of the country. Not his band members per se but rather the responsibility his status required of him. If young Taehyung had known of the great success he would achieve after debut, no doubt he would have been thrilled. Singing, dancing, performing - they were all a part of him, his greatest love and his greatest passion. He had worked diligently, training on no sleep and practicing until his vocal chords were raw with overuse. But now he was here, he wished he was anywhere else.

It is a misconception, he decided, that we could ever be satisfied. He had fame, he had a decent fortune and adoring fans. He had what some would describe as everything, what young Taehyung considered necessary to a life filled with happiness. Most would assume he must want for nothing; that was true to an extent, as he was fortunate enough to not want for anything materialistic, owning a room filled with clothes, two cars and an apartment with enough rooms to house at least two large families comfortably. That didn't stop him wanting, though.

Taehyung stared at the small, velvet box that he twisted nervously between his freezing fingers. He had a girlfriend, too. Soon to be fiance, once he inevitably had to return home for promotions or an obligation listed in his schedule. It was as if his whole life had been mapped out years in advance. Apparently, his company decided marriage was next on the agenda, probably to boost the album sales that had begun to dip as of late.

He loved Joy, he did. Taehyung had been ecstatic when she started returning his shy smiles and longing glances at award shows and music events. He was overjoyed when she agreed to let him take her out for coffee - a small gesture uncommon in an idol's busy schedule but appreciated none the less, an opportunity to spend time listening to her sweet voice and inhaling her vanilla perfume he was desperate for among their hectic conflicting obligations.

Things seemed to move quickly after that, him moving out of the dorm he shared with his band members to buy a place for them to share. A few months after that they adopted a dog and by then it seemed as though the relationship was serious, enough for his company to encourage him to ask for her preferences and size when it came to wedding rings.

He loved Joy. He loved how she dressed, the shampoo she used. He loved how she was soft spoken but stern when need be though never overbearing. He loved her family and how her mom always sent them home made meals to heat up on cold winters nights. Taehyung loved Joy, but not in the way he wanted to. How everyone wanted him to. How he was supposed to.

She was good for him and he knew that. It would be difficult - no, impossible - to find anyone more perfect. Joy was everything most guys wanted in a girlfriend, in a wife, as confirmed by the slaps on the back and contented hums from his friends when he introduced her for the first time. She was good for his image too, his company had made that clear, practically picking the wedding venue before he had even popped the question.

But here he was, running away from his problems, quite literally, sick to his stomach with fear and worry and an indescribable feeling of wanting. Taehyung was the man who had everything yet he still found himself wanting. Wanting for Joy to be happy, just not with him. Wanting to perform, but without the burden of fame. Wanting for people to forget V and to live as Kim Taehyung for a little longer. For he knew that once he boarded that plane home, his face would be headline news.

A dog barked uncontrollably somewhere in the distance, alerting Taehyung of the boots that cracked against the cobblestone, crunching the glass from a broken beer bottle that had rolled from the hands of a drunk slumped in the doorway of one of the only bars the village possessed. Even that was closing for the night, though the cheap neon light, barely fixed to the wall, still glowed and sent the alley into a rich hue of red. It was ominous and out of place amidst the natural beauty of the village and Taehyung picked up on the menacing presence leering over his pathetic form when it was already too late.

The sound of feet became louder, followed by the dog, it's noises turning shrill and whiny as it was kicked to the curb. Black boots came to a halt in front of his crossed knees, one nudging his arm a tad too harshly to be friendly. Taehyung glanced up slowly from beneath the brim of his hat, thankful the shadow cast by the visor concealed the shock evident on his face as he took in his company.

Two broad men ogled down at him, a sickly smile plastered to the mouth of the second, the gold caps on his teeth glinting in the low light. He blinked at them once and then twice, considering their reasons for stopping. Did they think he was drunk?

"What have you got there, young man?" The first one sneered, arms looped around his back but the sheer weight of his boot enough to keep Taehyung in place, unable to stand let alone run. It was then that he followed their gaze, straight to the space where his thighs met, cradling the small black box containing the biggest diamond he was sure they had ever seen in a place like this.

"What do you want?" Taehyung replied gruffly, squaring his shoulders in an attempt at appearing as intimidating as their hot stares. Easier said than done when wearing yellow tinted designer glasses and a pair of fluffy sandals.

"I want to know what a nice boy like you is doing in a place like this," The man's accent was as thick as the prickly stubble lining his jaw as he gestured to the empty blackness around them. "And how you have a ring like that."

Taehyung shoved the box roughly into his coat pocket, shaking himself free from the hold of the tall stranger as he attempted to get to his feet. "It's for my girlfriend." It wasn't a lie, yet he still had to swallow the lump in his throat in order to choke the words out, even to a pair of thugs.

"Where are you going?" The second man spoke for the first time, hand jerking out to push Taehyung's shoulder downwards violently until he returned to his former position on the ground, susceptible to their every whim due to their heightened stance over him.

"I have to be getting home."

"We know you aren't from around here, kid." He bent to his knees, foul breath tainted with beer fanning Taehyung's forehead as he spoke. His voice was louder, raised from the whisper he spoke in before. He wrapped his thick fingers around Taehyung's throat, drawing his words out slowly as if to be extra clear. "Give us the ring and we won't make any trouble."

"No." Taehyung said through gritted teeth, mouth widening as the hand around his windpipe tightened, cutting off his air supply and drawing tears to burn his eyes as he fought for another breath.

"This is your last chance." Taehyung was gasping now, grasping desperately at the sharp elbow of the man until his grip faltered, allowing him to take in the sweet cold oxygen.

He fell to his hands and knees, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth as he heaved shakily. Taehyung kept his eyes trained to the concrete as he slipped off the silver bracelets littering his wrists and the big rings on his fingers, throwing them haphazardly in the direction of the men. He didn't know how much they were worth - the cost of items was not an issue anymore and sometimes he didn't even bother to look when he paid for them - though he was sure it was not as much as the ring pressing against his thigh through the fabric of his jacket. "You can take anything you want. Just not the ring."

"You think I'm stupid boy? This shit ain't worth a dime." Black boots spat vulgarly at the measly pile of silver. "I want the fuckin' good stuff."

"He ain't gonna listen, big guy. Just rough him up a bit for Christ's sake."

At his words, the other nodded his head, cracking his knuckles at what felt like an obscenely loud volume. The words dawned on Taehyung quickly and he brought his knees to his chest, cradling his head in his arms as he prepared for incoming blows from their fists or their steel toes. Isn't the body supposed to go into fight or flight mode when faced with imminent danger?

Not that there would be any point in trying to take flight as the grip of the bigger mans hands beneath his underarms was vice like, so tight he was sure it would bruise. His stubby fingernails pierces Taehyung's sensitive skin, causing him to yelp in surprise as he felt them press purple half moons into his flesh. And he pretty much gave up fighting as soon as he felt the cool serrated metal of a knife pressing against his throat.

He stifled a scream, instantly going slack in the man's grip, abandoning any attempt at escaping. "Please. You can take anything but the ring!"

"Please what, baby boy? You scared or somethin'?" The man with gold teeth came to a halt inches from his face, eyes glinting with amusement at Taehyung's begging.

Something sounded from above, catching the attention of both Taehyung and Gold Teeth. They locked eyes before glancing upwards. A small girl balanced precariously over the railing of the tiny balcony extending from a decorative screen door, the glass propped open by a plant pot overflowing with green ivy, allowing the drapes to blow in the night breeze. She carefully unhooked the silk sheets pinned to a makeshift washing line, folding them neatly over her arm. Her bare feet kick a clothes pin under the guard rail, seemingly unaware when it clattered to the ground below, just missing Taehyung's arm. If she were to just look down...

Gold Teeth apparently comes to the same conclusion, raising a single finger to his lips in warning. Don't move. He mouths. Taehyung swallows thickly, the blade sharp against his adams apple.

Before he could think better of it, he was taking a deep breath and bellowing as loud as he could for help. He didn't have time to form the word more than once, a second help dying on his tongue as he was spun around to face his captor. It was then that he felt a searing pain in his thigh. It was hot to begin with, burning as his skin was pierced by the knife but then it was cold, horribly icy as blood began to trickle from the wound down the sides of his leg.

"What the fuck man! I said rough him up not stab the kid!"

"We need to get out of here," An arm was still tight around Taehyung's chest, the man stumbling backwards when Taehyung's head fell into the crook of his neck as he cried out in agony. He took the opportunity to reach into his pocket, retrieving the black box from a powerless Taehyung. "Lets go! Fucking run!"

They sped off, each thud of their boots sending a sharp pain through Taehyung's head as he desperately gripped the wall for support. He felt numb as he noticed the knife that was still wedged into his leg. The pain unbearable as he ripped it out, discarding the bloodied weapon somewhere behind him. He pressed his hands to the opening in a bid to ease the pain, shock rocking his body as he watched blood spill from between his fingers.

His focus began to blur, the alley spinning in large figure eights as he tried to get a grip on his surroundings to no avail. Taehyung tried to soften his bodies descent to the ground but his palms could not grip the wall in time, leaving bloody smears where they touched the paint. The crack of his skull against the paving was audible, his eyes popping when he felt a giant pressure begin to build in the back of his head, like a balloon filling with helium, ready to burst at any moment.

The pain was so unbearable now that he could barely feel it. It's strange - when the pain was at it's worst it is as if his body went into shut down, protecting him from the agony by making him feel nothing at all.

It was not long before his sight went completely black, leading him on a descent into nothingness. It was like sleep but without the promise of a good dream.

Hands shook his shoulders and Taehyung was sure he caught a glimpse of a face before his lids were too heavy to stay open any longer.

"Monsieur?"

He was too far gone to hear you.

Pain. The searing burn of disinfectant in his wound. A wet cloth cold against his forehead.

"Can you hear me, sir?"

A sweet voice, ringing out in his ears. Another bout of pain as something tight is fastened around his leg.

"I'm so sorry. The pain will be over soon."

The voice again, but tinny with remorse this time. A face, paled with worry but soft and comforting. Welcome among the confusing blur that tinted his vision, dulled his hearing and weighted his body.

You.

And then there was blackness, again.

When Taehyung finally came to, you were curled up in a wicker chair beneath the windowsill, sun illuminating the battered copy of Romeo and Juliet your nose was tucked into. The aged, dog eared pages covered your features but he could tell it was you by the elegantly messy up-do sat on top of your head, wavy pieces of hair escaping the elastic to frame your chin nicely. Come to think of it, the entire room is covered in novels - some classics, some he was yet to hear of - littering every surface. They were not intentionally decorative but something about them was endearing. They were well loved, used, like a perfect bookshop of your own and the sweetness of a dust filled library settled into his senses.

Taehyung pulled his body into a sitting position against the wooden headboard, wincing slightly when his leg resisted the small movement. You noticed his sharp intake of breath, raising your head from the crook of your elbow to check on his state. Upon realizing he was awake, you lower your knees from where they were tucked tightly against your chest, rushing forward to push him back against the mountain of pillows you carefully placed behind his head the day before, book cradled beneath your underarm.

"Lay down, sir." You are unsure why you whisper it, perhaps afraid a louder volume will aggravate the wound located at the back of his head. "You must rest."

"I feel fine - better, at least," Taehyung assures, allowing you to help him under the elbow so he sat comfortably upright. "Thanks to you."

You smile meekly, busying your hands by plumping up the comforter that draped across his bare torso, lifting the corner to inspect his leg. He gazed down at you through lidded eyes, taking in the shredded silken sheet you had fashioned into a tourniquet around the gaping gash in his thigh. The pink fabric was stained in the middle with a messy red splotch, a clear indication of where the knife had entered his leg. You grip his ankle, attempting to lift and bend his knee but abandoning your ministrations all together when he let out a hiss, scrunching his eyes in response to the intense pain that shot up his side.

You tutted sympathetically. "I thought it would be feeling at least a little better by today."

"How long have I been here?"

"Nearly four days, now."

Four days? How had he been out for that long? The last few nights were a blur, flashing through his mind in nightmarish snippets, none of them connecting to form a clear memory. Taehyung figured it was some sort of coping mechanism his body employed in an attempt to stop him reliving whatever excruciating events he had suffered through.

"You had an infection in your leg," You continued, eyeing him carefully as he appeared to lose himself in thought. "But I think you managed to sleep it off. You don't feel feverish now, right?" You jerk forward to place the back of your palm against his damp forehead, relieved when it feels cool to the touch.

"No..I uh - what is your name?" He questions abruptly, suddenly curious about your identity. He had been here for half a week yet this somehow felt like a first introduction, his only prior recollections of you being that night on the balcony and several flashes of you tending to his needs while he was out cold.

"Y/n." You respond simply, smirking when he nods eagerly, bashful after his sudden outburst. "And yours?"

"O-oh yeah, I'm - " Taehyung opens his mouth to form the words, though nothing comes out. The name he was so familiar with felt as though it was at the tip of his tongue yet he couldn't quite let it spill from his lips. He watches you wait patiently for his answer, narrowing your eyes in question when his sentence dies almost as soon as it began. "I don't know."

You nod slowly, index finger tapping against your thumb as you took in his revelation. "You don't have to tell me -"

"No!" He lurches forward quickly, ignoring how his leg groaned in favor of reassuring you. "I want to tell you I just...don't remember."

He watches as your mouth forms a small 'o', realization hitting you all at once. "I guess you hit your head harder than I thought."

Taehyung reaches a shaky hand to graze the nape of his neck, taking in the way his hair matted to his skin with blood, the sticky substance coating the pads of his fingers. The skin was still sensitive and the area still throbbed dully where his skull had connected with the cobblestone. If he closed his eyes and focused he was sure he could still hear the sound of it.

That would explain why he couldn't remember his name - or come to think of it, anything prior to being attacked by a knife and barely anything after that. Was it amnesia? He wasn't sure how this sort of thing worked, never being one to listen in health class. Would this be...permanent?

"If it helps," Your soft words bring him back to the small apartment, allowing him to watch as you flit across the room to his opposite side. He noticed how you practically danced, effortlessly floating on bare feet to the wooden side table pressed against the wall. "You were wearing this when I found you."

You move to sit apprehensively at the foot of the bed frame, hand extending towards him to reveal a small gold ring. Taehyung took it between his fingers, nodding in thanks. You wrapped your arms around your torso and watched curiously as his eyes glazed the scripture engraved on the inner side of the metal band.

Kim Taehyung.

"Kim Taehyung." He repeated out loud this time, slipping the piece of jewelry over his thumb. It felt natural, as though it belonged there. "That must be my name?"

You nod. "Taehyung." Even if it wasn't his name he was sure in that moment he would adopt it, the way your lips curved around the word sending shivers down his spine. "It suits you."

He was suddenly aware of how bare he was, shifting uncomfortably when he noticed his own naked chest. His pants had been discarded to allow you to get a closer look at his stab wound, leaving him only covered by the thin summer lace that swaddled his legs. You noticed his discomfort, grabbing a striped top and a pair of loose fitting white pants from the laundry room behind you and throwing the garments in his direction. He catches them reflexively.

"They were my fathers. Too small now." Taehyung smiles at you properly for the first time at this, eliciting another bout of dull throbs to shoot through his head. "Your things got a little dirty in the scuffle. I washed them for you." A small mirror sat on a tiny dresser, its reflection angled so Taehyung could see the laundry blowing in the summer breeze on the balcony, his shirt and jeans included.

"Thanks." He pulls the shirt over his head, grateful for the modesty it provided him. He looked up at you when it came to his pants, allowing you to assist him when pulling them over his injured thigh, the pain unbearable enough to distract him from the humiliation of needing help to carry out such a simple task.

"Oh - I almost forgot!" You run back into the laundry room, retrieving a black carry bag and the designer coat Taehyung had donned the night you found him on the street. Kicking the door shut with your heel, you fumble in the front pocket of the bag to retrieve a phone. "I hope you don't mind I looked through your stuff, I thought you might have an ID." You shrugged.

"It's fine, really. It's not as if I was around to stop you." He chuckled dryly at his own joke, enjoying the small roll of your eyes. The phone was cold in his palm and he turned it around a couple times as if to search for clues.

"It might help if you look at what is on the phone." You nudge him with your foot and it was his turn to roll his eyes now.

"I knew that." Taehyung huffed, sliding a thumb across the screen and watching as it came to life under his touch, lighting his face with its blue tinted glow. The screen presented a set of numbers, prompting him to input a passcode. He tapped a couple random numbers, hoping he might unlock it by chance or a miracle presented by his fingers muscle memory but apparently even that was having trouble remembering anything. After several failed attempts, a notice displayed on the screen: Iphone locked. Try again in 10 minutes. Taehyung dropped the device in his lap with frustration, pressing his palms to his eyes as he desperately wracked his brain for any set of numbers that might be relevant or familiar but nothing came, leaving him utterly sour with his own brains lack of cooperation.

He flinched when you reached out to rub his forearm, pulling away quickly out of embarrassment when you gauged his reaction to the contact. "I'm sure you will start to remember soon."

"What if I don't?" He pulled his lip between his teeth, nibbling anxiously as he considered the negative outcome. Taehyung knew that although he couldn't remember them he must have a family or friends at least who were worried somewhere, confused as to where he had disappeared to for four days. If he never remembered they would just be left in the unknown forever. Did he have a job? A home?

"You will, I'm sure of it." You say softly, desperate for a way to appease his worries. He was a stranger to you but you couldn't help but feel you knew him somewhat. After all, you had seen him at his very worst across the past few days, at his bed side day and night while he suffered through his fever. Something wrenched in your heart when you realized this was something you couldn't fix for him.

Taehyung felt himself relax with your reassurance. He reached forward to place your hand where it had touched his shoulder before, covering it with his own. His palm was wrapped in a silken scarf that acted as a bandage to cover the scrape attained when removing the knife from his leg. You unwrap it carefully, nodding in satisfaction at the way the skin had begun to heal, a contrast from the red and angry appearance it had possessed to begin with. Threading the scarf around his neck, you tie it in a knot at the base of his throat. Taehyung watches you inquisitively, cocking his head when you were done as if to ask for approval. You nod at your work. "Very à la française." He is surprised by your perfect pronunciation, gauging the accent that taints your English thickly to be local.

"What makes you think I'm not français?" He catches a glimpse of his appearance in the mirror, making you giggle when he sees that the accessory does indeed make him look like a French stereotype when paired with the blue and white striped shirt he currently donned.

"Your French is awful for one." Taehyung can't deny your statement, simply raising his hands in defeat. "And I've never seen you around here before. Everybody knows everybody here."

It was true. With only a couple hundred inhabitants, everybody seemed to be connected in some way in your town. Each and every individual local shared an uncle or a colleague or a neighbour so visitors stuck out like a sore thumb, drawing attention and becoming a source of gossip among the people. It was summer though so tourists were more frequent these days meaning you had not noticed Taehyung's arrival, that was until he got stabbed outside your apartment and almost died of an infection in your very own bed.

"You got me." He slumped back in surrender. "I assume you know this town better than anyone?"

"I have lived here all my life so I would hope so."

Taehyung scratched his chin. "How about you give me a tour? Might re-jog my memory if I see something familiar?"

You were cautious, not wanting to make a bad situation worse by taking him out before he was ready. He only just seemed to be getting over his fever and you were fearful that his immune system was susceptible to any sort of illness he could pick up out in the open. Then again, the fresh air might do his lungs some good. After all, he had been cooped up in your small one bedroom for half a week now - and so had you as a result, for that matter - so it was unsurprising that he was desperate to get out and find some sense of normality again. "What about your leg?"

Taehyung pulled himself to the edge of the bed, a little weak as he shakily tried to bare weight on his leg. The pain was subsiding a little now though it was still difficult to take more than a few steps before he had to relieve his leg a little by leaning against your wooden clothes cabinet.

"Hold on a second." You noticed his struggle, bending to your knees and fishing under the bed until your hand found the smooth wooden handle of a cane, once belonging to a great uncle - or perhaps it was an aunt, you couldn't remember - before pressing it into his palms. Taehyung admired the decorative lions head that was carved into the base, covered with flaking gold leaf and scratches from years of use and misuse. He pushed away from the wall, leaning into the stick and finding his balance, letting out a breathy laugh when he managed to take a series of steps - albeit slowly - with it's assistance.

"Are you sure? It looks special." You purse your lips in agreement, unable to list the various ancestors who once relied on the cane as Taehyung was now and unable to remember how it came into your possession in the first place. You were thankful it did, though as it was finally being put to use.

"Of course." You slip a light scarf around your shoulders, expecting the afternoon breeze to be chilly as it gradually turned into night. "Until your leg heals."

The apartment was situated on the second storey, exited by a small winding staircase that led to an open piazza, inhabited only by an outdoor chair you favored for reading on summer mornings. It took a while to get down, Taehyung still struggling to find his footing with the cane and needing your support under his elbow to manage the last few steps.

The hustle and bustle hit deliciously when you finally stepped out into the open. The town was alive, children playing on the corner with chalk as colorful as the buildings around them, mothers watching from balconies and open screen windows as they danced in the shadows cast by ornamental street lights. You led him down through the winding alley, under a stone arch and out into the outdoor street market. Taehyung's senses were immediately filled with the smell of cooking crêpes and burgers sizzling on a grill along with the sounds of traders and marketeers shouting praises of their homemade la crème glacée. Men unloaded fresh fruit and vegetables into crates, transported by truck from nearby produce farms and Taehyung swore he had never seen colors so vibrant, so ripe.

"Where are we going?" He asks, struggling to keep up with you as you effortlessly weaved through the throngs of people. The town square opened up into a harbor which stretched for a couple of miles along the front where the town merged with the sea. The water sparkled beneath the bows of holiday yachts and fishing boats and he could not help but gawk at the beauty of it.

"Here." You say, stopping abruptly and almost causing him to walk into your heels as a result. You pat the stone wall before you. The entire harbor was lined with it but this particular spot was at a lower height than the rest allowing you to swing your body over so that your legs dangled over the drop. Taehyung's eyes widened nervously as you did just that, jerking forward to grip your forearm as he envisioned you catapulting down to the small patch of sandy beach below. You simply giggle, gesturing for him to sit next to you. His leg protests when he tries to copy your earlier actions despite his hesitance towards its safety, opting to perch on the edge with his back facing the boats instead.

"This is where we are going." You let out a breath, taking in the view you were all too familiar with yet somehow not tired of. "I come here to think a lot. It's my place."

Taehyung hummed in response, eyes glazing across the tops of houses and chapels that rose from behind one another, towering above you. "I can see why. The view is beautiful - how do you say that in French again?"

"C'est une vue à couper le souffle."

"Yeah, that." He mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck and avoiding your gaze by pretending to be engrossed in the fishermen unloading their days catch.

"That's not the reason I like it, though." You continue. "I like how it is quiet here." It was true. Compared to the hectic town square it was serene, only a few people in sight including yourselves along with some particularly noisy seagulls. "Sometimes I feel smothered in town."

"I understand, I think." Taehyung nibbles his lip. Something twisted inside of him at your words, the feeling you described to him familiar somehow though he couldn't put his finger on why exactly. "Sometimes you have to find peace inside the commotion."

"Right." You agree curtly, eager to change the subject before it became too raw. "Has your memory come back yet?"

He sat in silence for a while, enjoying the cool salty breeze on his skin before he spoke up quietly. "I wish I could remember."

Another bout of silence. A boat bobbed into the calm waters of the harbor, filling the quiet just enough for your words to almost slip past Taehyung had he not been watching you intently. "Perhaps you should just embrace it."

"Embrace my amnesia?"

"I mean, embrace the chance at a fresh start," You explain, finally drawing your attention from a blank point in the distance to stare him straight in the eye. "I don't know anyone in this town who wouldn't give their left leg for a chance to re-invent themselves. Think about it - you could literally be anyone you want to be."

"Anyone?" Taehyung still wasn't convinced, the idea of leaving behind his past still tender, even if he couldn't remember it.

"Anyone!" Your face glowed with a sudden bout of excitement, irises glinting in the evening sun as you pull his hand into your lap. "You could go away from here, become a traveler? Or an artist...you look like an artist."

Taehyung looked out over the charmingly beautiful town, lingering for a second on the rough edges that blended out into the pink and yellow sky. Something felt right about being here - something instinctive.

Your enthusiastic babbling brought him back down. "A florist! I bet you know a thing or two about flowers - unless you forgot about that too.."

"Y/n?" His sudden interruption brought you to an abrupt silence, an indication that you were listening. "Who are you? Like, what do you want to do with your life."

"I mean - I work in a bakery. My fathers bakery."

"A baker, huh?"

"Yeah. Though if I hit my head I would like to become a writer." Taehyung nods, remembering the vast amount of books you hoarded in your apartment. " You know, like a real one. With a library and a writing room."

"You don't need to lose your memory to do that, y/n."

"People around here...we don't get to be writers. Or florists. Or artists."

"Why not?" Taehyung couldn't understand your resentment for a town so gloriously pleasant, so perfectly simplistic.

"Because we are insignificant. We are traders and housewives and bakers." You spat the last word with a bitterness you had become accustomed to.

"I could be a fisherman." Taehyung puffed out his chest to mimic the muscular man unloading crates of seafood below.

"Nuh uh," You wrinkle your nose. "The smell is unbearable."

"Then, I want to stay here." He concluded, crossing his arms with a determination that said his decision was final. "At your bakery."

"You are stubborn," You announce, shaking your head in disbelief. "You could go anywhere and you choose to stay here?"

The sun was dipping into the waves now, almost obscured by the ripples and sea foam. "I feel at home already."

#thebtstown #kwordsmiths #bts fanficition #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung imagine #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #writing this fic has been so fun bc it is so easy to get lost in dreamy ideas of french taehyung #the problem is i have developed the story in my head too much to put on paper lmao #hope u enjoy angels!#my writing

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