jesus is my dad

A Still, Small Voice

My dad has always hated noise. Not at home, not in public, and certainly not at church. But when you have six sons all within twelve years, noise is unavoidable. 

While my dad was never loud or even remotely violent, it was UNDERSTOOD you DID NOT make noise in HIS house. And so, from an early age, we learned to be quiet.

I learned to keep to myself. To not distract him when he was reading his Book of Mormon or preparing his meeting remarks. To never yell. To never laugh too loudly. 

And so I turned inward. Deep inward. 

My dad said that a quiet house was necessary for the spirit to whisper to us. We needed quiet minds to hear the heeding of that still, small voice. 

Years later, my friends in middle school made fun of me because I would never laugh. When something was funny I would smile and open my mouth, but literally no sound would come out. It was fucking weird. I would never raise my voice. I would almost never speak at all, In fact, most people assumed I was an introvert. Hell, I thought I was an introvert. For years. 

I began to identify with the character of Spock from the original Star Trek, which I watched voraciously on VHSs checked out of the local library. I had to keep my emotions in check. I had to keep quiet. I had to keep small.

A large part of my experience growing up Mormon was of being crushed, weighed down, having my voice silenced. In trying so hard to listen to that still, small voice of the holy spirit, my OWN voice got still and small, and all but silent. 

But I got out of that quiet house. I got out of that hideous religion. I found my voice. And I’ve been striving ever since to make some goddamn noise about the dangers I’ve seen, about the path that almost stole my voice from me. 

And so I want to speak to all those “quiet” mormon kids who are stuck in “quiet” mormon homes: Don’t let them silence you. YOU HAVE A VOICE. USE IT. Sometimes you will have to appease your parents. Sometimes you just have to get through it. Sometimes you have to lose the battle to win the war. But hold strong because there is a world out here that welcomes you and your voice and what you have to say. No, it NEEDS your voice. It begs for your voice. 

The same goes for all of us ex-mo’s. Let’s all speak up. Whatever gets your blood pumping, gets your ire up, make some noise about it. Let’s not let the church and all its abuses and lies slink quietly by. 

Sound the alarm, friends. Your voice may be small but together, we can make one hell of a racket. 

2

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH MY GOD I MADE A VERY VERY INHUMAN NOISE

LOOK AT KILLUA’S FACE, HE LOOKS SO SO SO SWEET OH MY GOD YOU CAN PRACTICALLY SEE THE LOVE EMANATING FROM HIS EYES I AM S Q U E A K I N G

Try Me

Request from anon for a Jax x Reader where the reader is Unser’s daughter, and Hale keeps flirting with her so she asks Jax to pretend to be her boyfriend to get him to back off. Enjoy the smut ;)

A/N - I’ve done this a little differently to my other fake boyfriend/girlfriend imagines, as I don’t want to seem repetitive :)

Originally posted by journeyslegend

“You don’t even know me. Get to know me, I promise I’ll change your mind.” You’re glad your back is turned as you roll your eyes in annoyance, not sure how long you’re going to be able to keep up the nice girl attitude for.

Turning to face the determined officer, you smile apologetically, your following answer the same as it always is. “Thanks for the offer again David, but I’m not sure things would work between us.”

“Why? Why do you always say that?” he asks, frustration heavy in his tone, his hand on your car door to stop you from leaving. “Is it because of the MC?”

“No-” You open your mouth to start denying his claims, trying to think of another reason not to go out with a dude that you just don’t find yourself attracted to, when you come up with the perfect solution. “Actually, yes. You’re completely right.”

“Listen, I know you’re close with them, but they’re bad people, (Y/N). You could do so much better.” Here he goes again, you think. Same speech as always. He doesn’t even know SAMCRO like you do, nobody does.

“Thanks for the lecture, David, but Jax asked me to be his girlfriend a couple weeks ago, and I said yes.” The pure horror on his face has you biting your lip to contain your smirk. “See you around.”

Walking into the clubhouse, you scan the room swiftly, not spotting the man you’re hoping to see. “He around, Sack?”

“In the apartments.” he responds, walking into the kitchen with a pair of rubber gloves and a plunger. You grimace, knowing Piney’s probably blocked the bog again. Shaking your head, you walk towards Jax’s residence, knocking on the closed door.

“Room service.” you call sarcastically, your voice sickly sweet. The door opens within a few seconds, Jax’s eyebrow raised, his lips turned up into a grin.

“Lucky me, though you’re slightly overdressed for the kind of ‘room service’ I’m used to.” he says, opening the door to let you in. “Wasn’t expecting to see you till’ later on.”

“I know, but I need to talk to you about a little favour so I thought I’d grace you with my wonderful company.” you tease, plonking yourself down on Jax’s bed. Shutting the door, he sits on a box in front of you, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket.

“You can just admit you missed me, babe.” He takes a drag, your eyes capturing the way his cheeks hollow as he inhales the smoke, the action stopping your train of thought. “What do you need me for this time, Princess?“

“Are you ever going to drop that nickname? You’ve called it me for years.” He grins cheekily, the smoke parting from his pink lips as he shakes his head at you, knowing deep down you love the endearment. “Anyway-”

A knock on Jax’s door stops you, the two of you turning to see Chibs’. “Sorry to interrupt. Cops are here.”

“Could they be any further up our asses?” Jax spits rhetorically, discarding his cigarette in an ashtray on his cabinet before standing up. You follow him as he leaves the room, Chibs leading the way as the three of you head out to the front. All you’re thinking is please don’t be Hale.

You curse silently as you see the man himself standing against his police car, Jax tensing up as he sets eyes on the deputy. “You’re here so much I’m starting to think you wanna patch in.”

Hale just scowls, his eyes shifting to you as you move from behind Jax, stepping to take position between the Scot and the VP. He watches you for a moment, and you know Jax catches it as you see him look at you questioningly, a pleading look on your face as you hope he just follows your lead.

“We got a call about a guy on a motorcycle running a red light a few blocks from here.” You sigh in disbelief, having a sneaking suspicion that his visit is more out of spite than anything else. “Just here to check your plates.”

“Jesus, how bad did you piss off my dad to go from murders to speeding tickets?” you sass, folding your arms across your chest. Chibs chokes down his chuckle from next to you, taking a drag from his cig to keep down his humour.

“I’m here because it’s my job, (Y/N), to make Charming a safer place for our citizens.” You roll your eyes, nodding slowly. “Something bothering you?”

“Woah, I thought you were here for us, not for the chief’s daughter. Check your plates and you can be on your way.” Jax states protectively, not liking the way Hale is speaking to you. The officer glares in response, his hand moving to rest on the handcuffs on his belt.

“I wonder how the chief would feel if he knew what you were up to with his daughter.” Hale snaps, his whole entity dripping with jealousy. You swallow nervously, trying to hide the anxiety from your face.

Chibs laughs loudly this time, a laugh so loud with amusement that you can’t help but smile. “Jackie, you naughty boy.”

You share a look with your ‘boyfriend’, him smirking, a cocky grin spreading across his face. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in, Jax’s reaction of enjoyment rather than horror making you feel confident in your lie.

“Oh, I get it now. You’ve got a soft spot for my girl here, and you’re pissed she chose me over you.” Jax says, rolling his tongue over his lower lip smugly. “Not that you were even an option.”

“You watch your mouth, Teller.” Hale warns, his eye twitching as he steps up to Jax, the tension heavy between the two men.

“Or what?” Jax challenges, anger radiating off him in waves.

“We got a problem here, boys?” The voice of your dad cuts through the ever brewing argument, him smiling at you loving before turning his attention back to the two amped up males. “Hale, you’re not stationed to be here.“

You, Chibs and Jax watch on as Hale turns into a flushed mess, having no decent excuse for ever coming to TM in the first place - though you all know why he did.

“Thanks, dad.” You hug your father as you speak, him squeezing you tightly before leaving you to it.

“So, something you need to tell me?” Jax asks as you sit on the bench outside, embarrassment crawling up your body. “Wasn’t aware I was taken, darlin’.”

He nudges you playfully, your hands covering your face as you groan. “He’s been pestering me for weeks, figured you were the best deterrent.”

“Thanks.” Jax deadpans, a small smirk on his face as he passes you the cig, you taking a drag as you think about what to say. “Glad I could be of service, I guess.”

“Thanks for going along with it. Guess I owe you one.” You tap off the ash and pass the stick back, biting your lip anxiously. “How about I do you a favor?”

“Sweetheart, no offence but the kind of favours I’d like to have you do for me aren’t exactly innocent.” You cough, his reply completely unexpected, your core tingling involuntarily.

“Try me.” you tease, your gaze flickering to his lips for just a second, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, fingertips inching upwards.

Next thing you know, the two of you are locked at the lips, thankful that the clubhouse is empty, the others off on runs and whatever else. “How long have we got?”

“Half hour, tops.” Jax mumbles, connecting his lips back to yours, his tongue in your mouth eliciting a moan from you. “I don’t see us lasting that long to be honest, darlin’.”

You squeal as you feel yourself being lifted, the pool table becoming your seat as Jax places you on top. You rip at his flannel, the buttons scattering all over the room. Your fingers explore up and down his chiseled chest as he begins to nibble and suck at your neck, your eyes closing in pleasure as he works his way down.

“Please, Jax…” you pant, your underwear positively soaked as his tongue slips over your exposed skin. He practically growls at your pleading, him ripping himself from you as he expertly undoes his jeans, the fabric pooling at his ankles, his boxers joining the denim.

Your eyes widen as his cock stands before you, you pressing your thighs together subconsciously as the ache grows stronger. “Like what you see, Princess?”

“Don’t get too smug, Jackson, gotta see if you can fuck me well enough, first.“ His hands pull at your shorts, you lifting your ass to help assist as he rids the material from your legs. Once he’s discarded the fabric somewhere across the room, he connects his lips back to yours, lifting and squeezing your ass as he moves to you to the edge of the table.

You barely feel him move your underwear to the side before he sinks into you, a gasp leaving your lips as he nuzzles into your neck, his teeth biting at your skin as he fills you up.

You dig your nails into his biceps as he moves out of you, slamming back in deeply. He pulls back, loving the expressions you make as he fucks you so well, the little moans and gasps leaving your lips making him want to explode there and then.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel you around me, (Y/N).” You place your hands behind you to steady yourself, your pussy feeling even wetter as he talks to you. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“I’m so close, already. Fuck, just like that.” you whine as he hits all the right places, his strokes alternating in speed, but never lacking in power.

You rub your clit, clenching your pussy as you come, your mouth open yet nothing comes out. “That’s it, come for me, baby. Good girl.”

Jax grips the back of your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, his gaze locked on yours as he gets closer and closer to climaxing. You’re practically on fire as you feel another orgasm creeping up on you, the pure hunger in Jax’s eyes making you more sensitive than ever.

“Who knew you could take cock so well.” he whispers as he drills into you, a high pitched moan slipping from your lips. “Imagine if someone walked in right now, saw what a dirty slut you are, so desperate for me.”

His degrading words push you over the edge, a loud curse leaving you as stars fill your vision, Jax continuing to slam into you as he rides you through your high. “You gonna take my come, hm? Gonna let me fill you up like the good girl you are?”

“Yes, fuck, please Jax.” you plead desperately, your nails clawing down his stomach as he places hos forehead against your own, his eyes clenching shut as he let’s go.

He kisses you roughly as he comes inside of you, his hips gently rocking as his hot spurts shoot inside of you, your teeth sucking at his bottom lip.

He pulls out of you slowly, his juices and your own dripping from your satisfied pussy, your body feeling empty without his shaft inside of you.

Jax buckles up his pants, grabbing your shorts before lifting you up as if you weigh nothing. He carries you down the hall, just in time in fact as voices begin to fill the clubhouse.

Reaching his room, he places you down on the bed, his body crawling over yours as he moves a piece of hair from your face. “I’ve gotta go for a vote, but when I get back, we’re gonna see how sexy you look on your hands and knees.”

With that, he’s gone, leaving you shaken and hungry for more.

A/N - It’s been a whileeeeeee since I wrote some smut, but I’m so glad with how this turned out!!!! Hope you guys likeddddddd xxxx

i felt like i was left at the altar

The other day I was talking with my sibling about alien life, and if there is possible civilizations out there with the type of complex societies and biology that human beings have.

And all I could think of was this fucked up thing that happened when that was brought up randomly one night at a church youth group when I was in high school. And the only thing that stood out from this conversation to me was one lady was listening to the thoughts and arguments and stuff.

And then she just kinda went, “I don’t believe in aliens as a complex society cuz that just means God would have to send Jesus another time to die for another civilization.”

And I fuckin’ lost it.

Shattered

Nap Date, send me your thoughts on this one.
Find other parts Here!

“Shawn!” She calls out. She waits a second for him to respond but hears nothing. “Shawn!” She calls louder. 

The music on goes softer and she thinks that he’s heard her. But then nothing.

“Shawn.” She says one more time, out of patience. 

“Give me a few minutes.” He says, yelling from his studio.

“No.” She says, fed up, “I need you now.” 

She’s standing on the counter, trying to get the china down. His parents were coming over for dinner, and she wants to impress Karen. So she’s making a big meal of Pasta with a side salad and garlic bread. 

“Hold on.” He calls back. 

“Shawn.” She says, the plates she’s holding getting heavier. 

“WAIT!” He growls, startling her. He’s been distant and moody lately but he hasn’t been that aggressive. 

The plates are getting heavier, her fingers are slipping. She can’t help it, her fingers give out and she drops the stack of plates to the ground. They crash to the floor causing a huge boom and sound of shattering ceramic. She yelps as a piece bounces off the side of the counter cutting her foot. 

Shawn comes tumbling out of his studio, running towards the sound she had just made. He looks scared, eyes wide searching for her.

He wants to know what just happened, and more importantly that she’s okay.

She stand’s there, on the counter, looking at her foot that is now bleeding. 

“What the fuck?” He asks breathless.

“Thanks for the help.” She sneers at him.

“This is my fault?” He asks, confused.

“I was calling you for a fucking reason Shawn, not to just see your annoying ass face.” 

“Hey.” He says, gaze softening. A little hurt at what she just said. 

“And now all our China, fucking ruined.” She groans looking at the floor. 

He stares at her, she never curses as much as she is right now. But she has completely lost her patience with him. He is always in the fucking studio, and never is around when she needs him. He’s more at home when he’s on tour. 

“What the fuck am I going to serve our dinner on? You mom is coming for dinner, she got us the fucking China.” She wipes her face, so stressed out. 

The idea of Karen finding out that the super expensive China she had specially picked out and paid for is now a shattered mess on the floor is giving her anxiety. 

“We’ll just get some more.” He shrugs.

“She’ll know Shawn, she’ll fucking know.” She hisses at him.

“Why are you angry with me?”

“Because you’re never fucking here!” She screams at him.

“What are you talking about, I’m right here.”

“Yeah? Then why is our China a fucking shattered mess on the fucking floor? Why? Oh yeah because you were here to grab it from me when I called for you four fucking times. Or when I asked you to pick up the groceries but you ‘forgot, sorry was at the studio babe’,” She mocks him. “Making me have to leave work early so I could go get the groceries.” 

“I’m sorry.” He shrugs.

“But you’re not.” She sighs, getting even more pissed off that he doesn’t seem to care. “And then I ask you to help me make dinner because, well your mom’s coming and I wanted your help so I didn’t fuck it up myself, But it was ‘Gonna finish this song, but you got it.’ so here we are. I haven’t even started on the food, our dishes are a fucking mess on our floor and your family is gonna be here in less than twenty minutes.” 

“Y/n.” He says looking up at her, she’s still standing on the counter, foot still bleeding. 

“Can you help me down, my foot is fucking killing me.” She says, eyes fierce.

“Christ Babe, you’re bleeding.” He says finally looking down at her foot. He walks over, shoes still on, walking over the dishes on the floor. He picks her up bridal style taking her to the bathroom so she doesn’t bleed on the carpet. He starts to tend to her foot but she is still pissed.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She hisses. 

“You’re bleeding.” He says like that fixes everything. Like is magically makes her anger go away. 

“I need you to get the fuck out of this bathroom.” She says staring up at him, he looks at her with concern in his eyes. “I need you to figure out dinner, I honestly don’t care anymore. Your mom can think I’m the biggest fuck up of a wife, that’s cool. I just need five minutes.” 

“You are not a fuck up of a wife.” He immediately says with hurt eyes.

“Well it feels like it, can you please just leave me alone.”

“No way am I leaving you alone, Babe what did you say?” 

“Shawn.” She says growing frustrated again. “We need to at least have food for your family. We don’t have time for you to sit here and try to make me feel better because that’s not gonna fucking work. If you don’t get food then at least clean up the kitchen.” 

“Y/n.” He lingers, she can tell that he’s not sure what to do. He hates when she feels bad about herself, and does whatever he can to make her feel better, but she’s telling him to leave. He just looks so lost. 

“GO Shawn!” She says pointing at the door. He takes a little bit but walks out of the bathroom. She sighs and hangs her head, really wanting to cry. 

She almost let yourself cry, she almost let a tear fall. She doesn’t cry though. She knows that if she starts crying she’ll be seen as weak and not strong enough for him. 

She tries to attempt to stop the bleeding from her foot, wrapping it with bandages. She can hear the Mendes clan walk into the house, asking about her.

She stands to go greet them but when she does she starts to feel faint. She leans against the door, taking in deep breaths, trying to get the black that’s crowding her vision to go away. 

“Y/n?” Aaliyah asks, trying to find her. She doesn’t have enough energy to call out to her. But she finds Y/n anyway. “Y/n?” She asks, more worried now. She rushes to Y/n’s side.

 “Liyah.” She choke out, her head now pounding.

“What’s wrong? Why is there blood on the floor?” 

“Liyah I don’t feel good.” She’s nauseous now. 

“Y/n?” Aaliyah asks. She can feel yourself slipping. The grip on reality starting to fade away. She starts leaning into Liyah, not being able to support herself anymore.

“Shawn!” Aaliyah calls out, as she stumbles with Y/n to the ground. She’s moving the hair out of Y/n’s face, fanning her. “SHAWN!” She screams, as Y/n closes her eyes, suddenly super tired.

“What? What’s wrong? Y/n?” He asks. He rushes to her side. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know, I walked in and she was like barely standing and then told me she wasn’t feeling good. Shawn why is there blood on the floor?”

“Jesus, we need to go to the hospital. Tell dad to start my jeep.” He says barking orders. “Baby, I’m here. I’m here now.” He says to her. She can feel him start to pick her up, holding her to his chest. He’s whispering that she’s okay, but she can’t tell if its for her or for him. 

“Shawn? What’s going on? Oh my god Y/n” She can hear Karen. She clutches Shawn’s shirt, trying to stay awake. 

“I’ve got you Baby. I’ve got you.” He says, now in the backseat of a car, stroking her hair. “Y/n? Can you look at me?” He whispers. She pries her eyes open to look into his brown ones. 

“I’m tired.” She whines.

“Just keep looking at me Baby.” He says, eyes so scared and worried. 

*

When she wakes Shawn is not by her side, Karen is. She smiles when she sees that Y/n has opened her eyes.

“Hey.” She whispers looking over at Shawn, who’s asleep on another chair in the corner of the room. 

“Let him sleep.” Y/n says softly.

“He’s been up all night watching you.” 

“I’m sorry for such the scare.”

“You’re okay, we’re glad you’re okay.” 

“I don’t even really know what happened?”

“You were bleeding out.”

“Oh.” 

“Can I talk to you for a quick second?”

“Yeah.” She nods, sitting up. Karen takes her hand.

“Honey, I am not going to think you are a fuck up of a wife. I don’t care if you serve me dinner on paper plates. I don’t care if we have take out pizza. I just want you to be happy.”

“Karen.” She sighs.

“Shawn told me how stressed out you were, and you don’t need to be.” 

“Thanks.” She smiles, squeezing her hand. 

She was about to tell Karen about the small depressed state she has been in but Shawn interrupts.

“Hey, you’re up.” Shawn says sitting up. 

“I’ll give you a second.” Karen says getting up and walking out. Shawn gets up and takes the seat next to the bed. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, better.” She nods. “You didn’t have to tell your mom that I was stressed out.”

“I’m sorry, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. I’ve been sort of freaking out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was going to happen.” 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thanks for lying.” 

“Can you talk to me about how you’re feeling?”

“I said was good.”

“Not about that, why do you think you’re a fuck up of a wife?” 

“I don’t know, you’re never home and I had just broken all of our China.”

“What do you mean I’m never home?” 

“I mean, you’re physically in the house, but you’re never with me.” 

“I’m still confused.”

“Shawn, I feel as if the music is more,”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” He cuts her off. “You are so much more important than the music. You know that.” 

“Do I?” 

“I would hope so.”

“It hasn’t seemed like it lately.”

“Wow okay, I’m sorry. It’s me being the fuck up.” 

“Shawn.” She sighs.

“No, I’ve fucked up, majorly. But not anymore. You always come first, always. I talked to Andrew, I’m on break.”

“Shawn, don’t do that.”

“It’s already taken care of.”

“No Shawn, the album is more important than my insecure feelings.”

“No it isn’t. If your feeling insecure it’s my job to help you through it. You don’t have any reason to be insecure. And you are not a fuck up of a wife. You are the best fucking wife, I can’t picture my life without you. Don’t ever think that you are not important to me, you are the most important thing in my life.”

“I love you.” She cries holding his hand.

“I love you so much.” He says, standing to kiss her on her head. “I was so fucking scared. You were so pale, and you’re eyes were not the same. The beautiful life in your eyes, it was gone. You could barely keep your eyes open, and I was so scared I was going to lose you. You were so out of it when we got here, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts in my head. I was freaking the fuck out.” 

“I’m right here.” She says taking his face into her hands.

“And I’m so happy that you are.” 

“I’m happy that you’re here.”

“But Aaliyah is really freaked out because she was the one to find you, so can I got get her?”

“Can I just be with you for a second?” She asks as he sits down.

“Yeah Baby, I’m right here.”

“I know, I just need a few minutes.” 

“I’ve got you.” He says resting his on the bed, forehead touching hers. “I’ve always got you.”

“I grew up never meeting my father so to be able to have a child with such an amazing, funny, thoughtful and beautiful person and to know that this kid is going to have him as a dad is the best feeling in the world. I never knew what real love was until I met Gerard and now I get to love two people that much. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.” — Lindsey Way.

anonymous asked:

Why your parents doesn't let u cut your hair?? Mine doesn't let me let it grow coz "i'm a boy" ;;

uh 

they dont want me to cut my hair v short because they said it’ll make me look like a ‘guy’

and fyi my parents r transphobic n homophobic (especially my dad)

listen Mom Steve is literally so protective of his children but ALSO:

-he has a little fanny pack / bookbag that has stickers and temporary tattoos and suckers and bandaids in it its called the Magic First Aid Kit (read: Steves dumbass fanny pack)

-he babysits the kids all the time they’re with Steve more than they’re at home

-he has the little animal shaped backpack kid leashes and everyone has a different one

-will has a lion, Mike has a tiger, dustins is a hippo, Lucas has a rhino, el has an elephant and max technically has a fox but every time Steve tries to get her to wear it she just drops it on the ground

-yes they are all 13+ in this and they still wear the kid leashes

-STEVE BEING A SUPPORTIVE PARENT TO REPLACE SOME OF THE BOYS’ GARBAGE ONES

-Steve going to art shows and sports games and competitions for his kids

-he almost threw hands with Troy until Mike reminded him he’s a weak ass and would probably die

-Lucas teaching Steve how to properly throw a punch

-“how do you know this, kid?” ‘my dad is letting me take boxing classes’ “jesus”

-will and el like to use their powers to mess with Steve and they giggle at him the whole time

-one time somebody tries to fight Steve for one reason or another and will literally launches them against a wall

-“JESUS CHRIST REMIND ME NEVER TO UPSET ANY OF YOU KIDS”

Twisted, Call It Fate

{You asked for Hanzo, you got Hanzo. I’ll admit I haven’t really written him before, so I apologize if this feels out of character! It’s also longer than I intended, while also not covering everything I had hoped to, so… yeah. I might do a sequel at some point, if you want a follow up.}
{-J}
————————————

There were plenty of ways to take down a rival group. One could destroy their foundation, what kept them stable, overwhelm them and force them to submit to a greater force, break their public support until none wished to work with them, etc, etc. Or, as so many preferred, one could simply cut the head off of the snake, so to speak. Taking out an organization’s leaders often left it in utter disarray. The resulting chaos typically made them crumble, and if not, well, placing a few agents in the right places, at the right times, usually finished the process.

In Hanzo’s experience, taking out the top was an easy way to eliminate rivals… as long as one didn’t mind abandoning subtlety. While there were ways to quietly remove people from their positions of power, those who wanted to go straight for the bosses rarely had the time, or the patience, to do things properly. It might have bothered him to some degree if he didn’t appreciate the challenge in outright assassinations. There was always a rush that came with such a thing, a burst of excitement caused by a true test of his skills. Most times it overrode any sense of dishonor that might come with the harshness of the method.

That was why he had no qualms with his current mission. Kill the royal family of an uprising nation? No problem. Their rising economy was causing the Shimada clan to lose some business, as the new country somehow produced and shipped goods at an alarming rate, without terribly high prices, making many turn to them instead of Japan’s most powerful family. It was unacceptable.

And so the eldest Shimada child had been sent to the young nation, disguised as a promising businessman looking for somewhere to settle down, his gear disassembled and hidden within his supposed merchandise. His underlings had arranged for him to attend a special gala, where the royal family would be welcoming a group of inventors, scientists, and artists. While there, he was to ensure that none of them left alive. Security would be insanely strict, with absolutely zero weapons (or even advanced technology of any sort) allowed, making it Hanzo’s most difficult mission to date.

He was excited, to say the least.

When the day of the gala arrived, he donned his finest suit, pulled his hair into a fashionable bun, and made his way to the venue. At some point his assistants would cause a distraction by the main entrance, allowing him to retrieve his bow from the side gardens (which were meant to be off limits to unaccompanied guests). From there… well, the plan was paper thin, due to too many unknown variables regarding the event. Still, he was ever-confident of his skills. By the time the clock struck twelve, the young nation would be left in shambles.

Of course, there was something very important that he hadn’t accounted for. A single, all-powerful force, capable of rendering him a mess of nerves and confusion. That force, of course, was you. Youngest child of the King and third in line to the throne, you technically held little power compared to your family. But your martial prowess was undeniable, your willpower unbreakable, and your wit unpredictable. And at this particular gala, your talents made you a perfect choice to give the opening speech.

As the last of the guests were ushered in, and the waiters made their way around with drinks in hand, the crowd’s attention was directed to the center balcony. Five thrones were arranged in a semi-circle up top. Guards bearing plain, dark armor stood at either end, a slight ripple in their image suggesting either a transparent shield or some sort of hologram. Though the chairs they watched over were initially vacant, they did not stay that way for long. Hanzo watched closely as the royal family emerged, his sharp eyes hoping to gleam details about his targets, despite the distance between them.

To his surprise, the King and Queen did not sit next to each other, instead sitting at either end of the balcony, two of their children taking the seats besides them. The middle seat remained unclaimed for another half a minute. Unaware of the balance of power, he assumed that the last seat would be taken by the eldest child. When you emerged from behind the curtain, strong gaze taking in the sea of people before you with ease, Hanzo found himself freezing up for a multitude of different reasons all at once.

I: You were young. Not the youngest soul present, nor childlike by any means, but your structure gave proof to fact that your those closest to you were your elders. To see such youth, perhaps even innocence, next to such experience… it surprised him.

II: There was a terrible sense of strength in the way you carried yourself. It was intoxicating, the way you stole the spotlight from your family, the way you commanded the space you resided in. And although your formalwear hid much about your body’s frame, it revealed enough to make it clear you possessed physical as well as mental strength.

III: Everything about you screamed beautiful. From your perfectly positioned hair to your elegant jawline, from your graceful walk to the way you held yourself up, everything regarding your appearance left him weak in the knees.

In that moment, he decided he could not kill you. He could not rid the world of it’s only source of perfection- he could not take away the only thing holy on Earth. When you moved forward, past your chair and up to the edge of the balcony, his heart skipped a beat. When you started to speak… it marked the breaking point of his will. All your beauty could not have prepared him for the elegance of your words. Every syllable flowed precisely from your lips, accompanied by a tone that demanded attention, that made one focus on it whether they wanted to or not. Even though there were several stands nearby that presented your speech in its various translations, he could not bring himself to glimpse them, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

The meaning of your language was lost on him, yet he was compelled, uplifted, given purpose. When your speech ended, he applauded with the rest of the crowd, but felt his heart twinge. Hanzo hadn’t wanted it to end. Hadn’t wanted any respite from your angelic voice.

From that moment forth, he began to silently form a plot to ensure your survival.

——————————-

At approximately 9:45 PM, a servant pulled you to the side, interrupting your discussion with a fascinating entrepreneur. Had the worker not sounded so urgent, you might have been rather irritated with him. But as it was, an issue had arisen, and your attention was required. Someone had been spotted trying to tamper with one of the security devices. Although they had been apprehended, their actions had been enough for an accomplice to slip somewhere they didn’t belong, like the personal quarters of your family. Concerned for your kin as well as your possessions, you quietly excused yourself from the gala.

Your personal guards join you the second you pass the checkpoint, one of them handing you one of your batons. A sense of worry nags at the pit of your stomach, but you refuse to acknowledge it or let it show, instead marching down the hall with your head held high. By the time you reach your room, the worry has made friends with anger. If someone was daring to try and hurt you, or your family, then you were going to show them what hell felt like.

When you found the door to your room unlocked, your suspicions were confirmed, sparking another spike of rage. There were the slightest sounds of shuffling from inside, akin to that of someone rummaging through your personal belongings. Evidently your guards heard it as well. They moved in first, guns held steady, armor surely capable of protecting them from any assailant. You held back for a moment, glancing back down the corridor. Once you were certain that no one had followed you, you slipped into the room, entering just in time to see an arrow catch the first of your guards in the neck.

The projectile had managed to find the thinnest spot of armor, where fabric marked the end of the helmet and the start of the chestpiece. It was an opening left to ensure flexibility of the neck. That someone had been able to target that gap meant that either they were quick to take note of weaknesses, or that they had luck on their side. Regardless, you moved further forward, now with a renewed sense of purpose, just a meter behind your other guard.

Another arrow was let loose, but this one broke against your protector’s armor. It gave the man time to fire back. Lacking a helmet (and therefore lacking clear vision in the dark), you were unable to see his target clearly, only able to get an idea of their general outline. What you saw made you tense. Some of your warriors had told stories of the Shimada clan, of their power, their reputation, and of their most notable members. As a member of the royal family, you had been made to study the strongest of your nation’s rivals.

There was no doubt in your mind that the mysterious assailant was one of your clan’s greatest enemies. Hanzo’s bow was unmistakable, even in silhouette form. It’s appearance might have frightened lesser souls, but you were not deterred, not even as he unleashed some sort of scatter shot while moving into cover. No, even as your second guard fell, you moved with confidence and fury. This man had come into your home, on a joyous day, gone through your belongings without care, and murdered two of your men, your friends.

You did not care who he was, or how powerful he was supposed to be. For his crimes, you were going to see him die.
Baton in hand, you rounded the corner swiftly, swinging it as you did, catching Hanzo by surprise. He hadn’t seen you behind the soldiers. If he had, he would have been more careful with his scatter shot, or perhaps not used it at all. After all, he had no intentions of harming you. The opposite, in fact, though you were unaware of that. Had you been, you might have aimed between his legs instead of at his stomach. As it was you knocked the breath out of him for the second time that night. It wasn’t enough, however, and you tried to follow up with an elbow to his face.

Alas, his reflexes were just as quick as the rumors would have you believe. In an instant he ducked beneath your blow, making your limb hit the wall sharply instead, before tucking into a neat roll. A hiss left your lips as you turned to face him again. To your mild surprise, he had not raised his bow in your direction. Something about the way he looked at you made you uneasy, and you longed to knock the expression off of his face. Not wanting to waste your chance, you kicked a foot out, sending one of your discarded possessions flying up from the floor. Although it did not strike Hanzo, it gave a moment’s distraction. You shot forward, free hand delivering an oh-so-satisfying palm strike to his chest, while the hand with the baton in it remained in a blocking position.

Oddly enough, it was unnecessary, as the man’s retaliation did not come in the form of any physical blows, attempted or otherwise.

“I do not want to harm you,” he said, stepping back as he did, not realizing that you didn’t understand a single word that fell from his mouth. When you replied with another lunge at his unprotected face, he scowled darkly. “You are too perfect for this wasteland, allow me to show you the true meaning of paradise,” he added, moving out of the way of yet another strike. His agility infuriated you, especially considering the fact that he wasn’t even using it to counterattack. The fight felt false, one-sided, dishonorable. When he spoke, you assumed it was him taunting you, and responded in kind.

His indifference gave you pause, made you wonder if he even knew what you had just called him. Most, when referred to as such an awful thing, reacted with violence. Yet he simply shuffled around you once more, keeping just out of your range. His stalling, however, would only complicate things. More guards were heading your way, having been notified of a weapons discharge in the private quarters. You knew they would come, as it had been you who had suggested their firearms be modified to keep track of any usage, and notifications be sent out if there was any unexpected firing.

Hanzo on the other hand was ignorant of this fact. All he knew was that his window of opportunity was closing, and if he was not quick, sparing you would be more costly than he was prepared for. So he spoke again, trying to convince you that your actions were futile, that one way or another the Shimada clan would have your head- unless you came with him, that is. Despite his best efforts, you continued to resist, continued to try to break him. As much as the idea appalled him… he knew he’d have to strike back.

“This is for your own good,” he swore, pulling a dart from his pouch. In the darkness you were unable to see what he had retrieved, unable to realize his intentions until it was too late. The next time you struck out at him, he did not slip away at the last second, instead flowing around your form, grabbing your extended arm and pulling, letting your momentum send you to the floor. In the same instant he let the dart’s tip pierce your skin, the smallest of pricks letting understanding hit you. Whatever the contents of the device were, they worked quickly, almost instantly filling you with fatigue. “I will make this up to you,” Hanzo murmured as you started to lose consciousness, only vaguely aware of familiar footsteps nearing your room.
The last thing you saw before the darkness overwhelmed you was a bright blue light filling the space, surging towards the hallway…