#THAT BLOODY IS LITERALLY HOLDING BACK HIS REACTION AND SNIFFLING. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dirtytransmasc · 1 year

Note

TW: VERY DARK AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT (kind of)

Prompt :

He was six

Norm found him with his wrist slit

“Why’d you do this kiddo?”

“I wanted to get rid of the demon blood”

Jakes reaction

Neytiri stitched him up with an unreadable expression

IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMY

I UNDERSTAND, PLEASE DO NOT MAKE THIS IF ITS TO DARK!!!😭

oh my fucking god... it hurts so bad, but its so good. I love dark angst, there aren't many places I won't go, so have no worries anon.

head the trigger warnings above, I don't get super graphic, but I don't skid over any details either. disclaimer, mama!neytiri brain worms are liquefying my brain, so this is a little (a lot) neytiri-centric, cause I can't help it, its the worms I swear.

also, there are like 0 resources on na'vi medicine, so I'm just fucking winging it man, I'm gonna pull some shit out of my literal ass and we're all gonna have to just be ok with that. ~~~

norm wishes he could say he was shocked, surprised that this little boy wanted to hurt himself, let alone went through with it. he should have been gutted, more than he was at least, angry, put off, something. but not that its happened, he saw it from a mile away, he should have noticed, should have stopped it. all he felt was guilt, burning up his heart and knotting up his stomach as he put pressure on spiders tiny wrists, holding his lulling body in his arms. spider was just a kid, a baby, but he's muttering about 'getting rid of demon blood' and 'not belonging' and it being 'better off' if he was gone. it was somehow worse in his childish wording, his perfect innocence and naivety only just beginning to crack as the pain in his little chest began to swell.

it had been the odd quietness from spider's 'room' back in the cave marui's that alerted him to something being wrong. spider was quiet, in a way; when he was out playing with the kids he was loud, laughing, face filled with light and joy, even if something cold still glinted in his eyes. but when he was on his own, having been left behind or told off by some adult, human or na'vi alike, for getting in the way, he would sulk off to the little marui by the shack. but even if he would sit amongst himself, playing with the few figures someone had put time aside to make, attempting to weave a new piece of jewelry or basket, mending the sad little knife he wore on his side. he was always doing something, could be heard humming or sniffling, the sound of his knife on the wetstone or the clunking of wooden figures on each other were a constant. so when norm heard nothing but silence, his gut ticked up, the hair on his neck bristled, his legs carried him much farther they would on the average day until he was staring at spider and his little bloody arms and his little bloody knife and his sad little eyes.

it took only a split second for norm to come back to himself, to rush and pick the boy up before he had enough 'sense' to try and back away (spider never wanted trouble, never wanted to get in the way or be a burden, the fact he didn't try and hide worried norm more then it would of if he did, which was even more concerning in its own right).

he just held spider as tight as he could, his big blue hands easily covering his human wrists, trying to think of what he should do. he should say something, other then "its ok" but what does he say? what do you say to a six-year-old who just tried to kill himself, no, no, "get rid of the demon blood" coursing through his veins?

he wasn't going to lecture him, spider made it clear why he did it, comfort wasn't his strong suit. he could just look at his puffy little cheeks, one side of his mask blooded as he had attempted to wipe his cheek on instinct. so he just repeated a mantra of "I'm here" and "it's ok" and "your ok" until he reached the infirmary, trying to prtend he didn't feel spider slipping further and further away with each passing second.

in the flash of just a few seconds fueled by adrenaline alone, he knew he regretted everything. he was spider's caretaker sure, but he was no father, jake wasn't either, and the boy didn't have a single maternal figure to his name. no mother to kiss his brow at night or admire his accomplishments. he had no one, not truly, and norm allowed to happen, was not only complicit in it, but played a direct role in it. now he may not get to make that up, may not be given the chance to step up, to fix this.

he carried spider to the infirmary hut, knowing he would find someone, anyone, there who could help. part of him knew that mo'at had seen something in the child that brought some sort of pity from her, that maybe just this once, spider wouldn't be so alone in her presence.

when he entered the pod, he found mo'at showing neytiri something, explaining different herbs to her, though he didn't pay enough attention to it the lesson to pull out any identifying features of the herbs in question. both turned to look at him when they heard his rapid breathing, their gaze then shifting to the bloody boy in his arms, the ever-so-faint fogging of the glass that made up most of his exopack, and the ghostly parlor of spider's skin.

"put him down," mo'at commanded, before norm could even speak, clearing her pallet in an instant, "what happened to him?" her voice was firm, almost knowing.

"he...cut himself...intentionally...I don't know how long ago, but I found him in his pod alone and brought him right here."

"intentionally?" neytiri hissed, removing the boy from his arms when he couldn't get himself to comply with the order and holding him so she could listen to the weakening beat of his heart. she tied turniquotes around his upper forearm with the strands of clothing handed to her by her mother, absent-mindedly rocking the little thing where he rested held between her free-er arm and her chest, when the last bits of his consciousness were directed to fussing, no doubt from the pain. she couldn't bring herself to bind them too tight, just enough to control the bleeding, her hands and a bit of cloth could handle the rest.

(mo'at almost lectured her, but she saw that look in her daughter's eyes and knew it would be pointless, a mama bear gets what she wants)

norm had never seen the protective fire in her eyes, normally directed at her children, burn so bright for spider in the last few years she had known him. it scared him, it felt so unnatural that the very gaze he had learned to trust in most cases, froze him like a deer in headlights.

but that question, the tone of it, made his gut sink. how did he explain this, spider was just a baby, and he had slit his own wrists. that on its own was gut-wrenching, but the reason? Eywa have mercy.

"he said... he said he wanted to get rid of his demon blood, so he... he used his own knife and cut his wrists... its a common form of self harm back on earth, to cut yourself, but I don't even know how he would know to do that, why he would do it... I know why, but..." norm felt defeated. he should have seen something.

the look on neytiri's face made him want to tuck his tail between his legs and run off. she placed spider down as gently as one could, face scrunched up with pain and anger as she keeps pressure on both of spider's wrists.

"get jake, he is with the young hunters." she spoke quietly, her voice almost bitter. she didn't know if she blamed him, if she was angry with him, she barely understand how to feel about spider harming himself. all she knew is that he had just given her some of the most heartwrenching news she had heard in her life, so he was getting some of her mirth. norm nodded, racing off with his tail tucked between his legs, only hesitating to take another worried glance at the boy.

neytiri took a deep breath before turning to her mother. "he will need stitches, right?" she had never dealt with an injury quite like this before, the conscious effort in the wound made it clean and to the point, unlike a wound in battle. it strived to do quick, efficient damage, and now, either because she could barely let herself think straight, or because she genuinly didn't know, she couldn't think of the best way to treat it.

"yes, my daughter, but that is the least of his worries. he cut a large vein, those are very difficult to mend, stopping the bleeding will be difficult. he's already lost quite a bit of blood, so we need to be careful. the best thing would be to put a root paste to help clot the bleeding, wrap it up, and stitch it later." mo'at turned to her morter and pestle as she spoke, mixing different herbs, berries, and roots into a dark brown, almost purple, paste.

neytiri, nodded absently, while she picked through the basket at her side for bundles of lumped fibre and soft cloth to hold against his arms. luckily for him, while he did manage to do some damage and with the help of the tourniquets, one wrist had already stopped bleeding a fair bit, and the other was manageable.

in the silence of the hut, her mother working quietly behind her, turning every once and a while to check his breathing or giving her a tincture to clean his wounds with, neytiri was left to think.

demon blood.

he had done this because of the words she and so many spat at the sight of him. he had tried to rid himself of his sins, the sins of his father, the sins of his people; but were they really his to begin with? what had he done, in his six years of life, to have earned the hate he received? was the blood he carried in his veins enough to justify pushing a child to this?

no, she decided, no it was not.

seeing him so pale and lifeless in norms arms woke something in her, something deep in her gut, maternal rage coursing through her with something vicious, and even if she didn't deserve it after all she had done to him, pushed him to do, her heart was attempting to claim his as her own, and she didn't know what to do with that feeling. then she realized, that the maternal drive that prowled in her stomach like a thanator ready to pounce, not only saw the world as a threat, but saw her as a threat.

her mother handed her the salve and she was grateful for anything to do to take her mind off of the few revelations she managed to have while waiting.

"put more of the salve where the bleeding is stronger, then wrap it tight, be careful to not make it so tight it takes off his hand." the older woman guided, watching over her daughters work.

neytiri scooped it out bit by bit, slowing rubbing it onto the wounds while her mother blotted away the blood, her ears dipping whenever the boy his with pain or tried to pull away. she just wanted to make him better, to take him up into her arms and tell him it was alright like she would if he was one of her own children. but she knew she couldn't, he would wake up and see the monster who filled his little mind with such awful thoughts of himself, that he would be just as scared of her as he always was, and that she could bring him no comfort. so he was extra gentle as she finished off the paste, and held him like delicately as she wrapped the bandage around his wrists, gushing him gently each time he cried out, combing back his hair when she felt she was finished.

then jake came barreling in, breaking up the delicate silence that for a single second allowed her to believe it was just a normal day, that the new found fantasy of just being able to mother this child was true, that allowed spider to lay in peaceful sleep with her shawl over him. norm was trying to hush him, before he woke the baby, but there was no stopping jake, not when his face was full of pain and anger, looking as if he would plow down a titanothere just to get to spider.

neytiri knew jake had taken to spider more than he had let on, but the beast in her belly screamed that he hadn't done enough either, that he didn't earn the right to worry either. but she hushed it, knowing neither had the right to claim anything, not even over each other.

"ma'jake, quiet, or you will wake him and... he will be in pain. so let him sleep while he can," she attempted to soothe quietly, resisting every urge to just scoop him up when jakes loud entry did in fact stir him.

jake sat across from her, his hand resting on spider's chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of the boy's chest. "did he really?" he asked, eyes begging for her to tell him it wasn't true. she knew he would much rather hear of a freak accident over this, but she couldn't give him that mercy.

"yes, it would seem so." her voice was short, worn, despite barely saying a word this whole time.

jake crumpled a little, much more on the inside then he attempted to let show on the outside. neytiri was used to it, jake dealing with it all on the inside, bottling it up till he burst. she placed her hands over his, both of them being reassured by spider's breathing.

"but he is still here, we can and will help him. we will make sure he never feels this way again. I will right my wrongs, I will treat him as he has always deserved, and I hope one day he can forgive me. you will do the same. for now we just have to wait." she spoke gently, still worried about waking spider. she was partly talking to herself, making the promise she had worked her mind to final, she swore it on eywa. she saw jakes eyes finally close, knocking the tears he had been fighting to keep in down his cheeks.

he nodded, slumping into a lazy, defeated-looking, criss-cross position, talking spider's little hand in his, using the wet cloth from mo'at to clean the blood from his finger, the calloused palms of his hands, his muscle-toughened arms.

jake was no stranger to this, to harming yourself, even if he had never taken a blade to his wrists. trying to imagine that pain in such a little body terrified him. how was he supposed to wrap his head around little spider, the stray cat amongst the village, always smiling and laughing, always trying to help everyone, always up in trees or tussling with his kids, his blonde hair like streaks of the sun running about the village, battling such demons. he tried to imagine what he must have been feeling when he took his knife to his wrist. was he scared? relieved? confused? was he desperate and looking for a way out?

no, no norm said that spider wanted to get rid of his "demon blood" which as somehow more nauseating. it was their faults, him, norm, neytiri, The People. they hurt this child or they let it happen. they expected him to take every glare, every spit of acid, everything he was forced to endure, and to still remain a happy child. jake never once stopped to think what effect that may have on him, and now he was paying for it.

he ached, spider was small, he could fit in jakes hands even at 6 years old. he was drowning in neytiri's shawl even if on her, it would barely cover her upper arms, he had just started fitting his exopack a little less than a year ago. he was still just a baby, and they almost let his life end. had norm not found him, he would be dead, still and cold in his makeshift marui, in a pool of his own blood. the image that accompanied the thought that flashed in his made him feel sick. even with all that he denied feeling about the boy, no matter how hard he tried to push him away, no matter what he let him go through, the thought of spider dying, especially like that, alone and scared and in pain, terrified him. to have a child die for any preventable reason, was a disgrace on The People, especially their chief of all people.

chief.

he should have been the example. he should have led his people to find love for a defenseless child who wanted only to be loved and accepted. he had failed.

he let a finger caress the side of spiders face, along the edge of spider's mask, lightly pulling at the curly baby hairs that rested there,

"will he be alright?" he didn't know who he was asking, norm or mo'at. both would have very different opinions, norm more literal, mo'at more spiritual. he didn't know which he wanted.

"physically, yes. he is lucky, his blade was simple, his hand faltered, and he didn't seem to have a death wish. he didn't do too much damage, its manageable. emotionally jakesuli? time will tell." mo'at was the one to speak, the look on norms face spoke the his fear of setting neytiri off like he almost had earlier.

neytiri looked to her mother with a pain expression, her tail beating nervously where is laid near spiders head, ears still folded back.

"his mind is plauged with pain and desperation, things no child should even be aware of. he was driven to harm himself, in ways that will be permanent. it will be our actions going forward that determine his future. I fear if we do not undo the damage now, we will lose him in the years to come... what I fear more and that the damage has been done and cannot be undone. we can only hope for the former/"

neytiri damn near let out a cry, turning from her mother, eyes clenched as tears welled up in them. she found jakes arms, both leaning over spider like a makeshift shelter. just like they should have his whole life, they should have shielded him from the world, protected him from the hate of others. spider stirred once more, and this time jake couldn't resist the urge to scoop him up.

spider looked up at both of them, his little eyes tired and glossy, something small and painful in his gaze. he began to wiggle out of jakes hold, balling up nervously, but when neytiri grazed fingers through his hair, he stopped. this was the one thing he had ever wanted, deep down. not to be accepted, not to be one with the people, not even to be na'vi. he just wanted to be held, loved, by a mother, any mother. with his judgment too clouded by all his emotions, the desperation, the pain, even the blood loss, and maybe and even simpler reason being just being a child; spider let her hold him. he couldn't think about her years of neglect, the harsh words, and harsher glares, not in that moment, that could come later. right now, he needed a mother, and neytiri was willing, so he sunk into her hold, welcoming the embrace of either parent.

the road to spider's recovery would be long and hard. jake and neytiri had a lot to make up for, to apologize for, holding onto their guilt for years as they waited for spider to reach an age were their apologies would actually mean something to him. he would have to be watched constantly, habits would be broken, tears would be cried. things would never be 100%, there would always scars and phantom pain, but that was ok.

~~~

a note for my regulars; I'm back, maybe sorta kinda. I've hit a rough patch with my adhd, I can't do thoughts, or social interaction really, but I'm starting to bounce back, so more regular posting may return shortly.

#I have such a hard time writing norm for whatever reason #which is why I found every excuse to not have to write dialogue for him #sorry norm <3 #also #I'm a bitch for the “neytiri having her eyes opened to motherhood/mothering spider in response to him getting hurt/sick” trope #its got me in a literal chokehold #its so good and so angsty #and neytiri's mama bear instinct vs logic fighting to the death #shes having a mild crisis #more like major. but potato patato #spider socorro #miles socorro #miles spider socorro #neytiri #jake sully #norm spellman #mo'at #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water

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r0tten-brainz · 3 years

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hey do you want my carrie fix it au? no?

too bad!!!

Everything seemed to stop when the blood was dumped on Carrie. All the cheers and applause was cut off by shocked gasps and silence. Wide eyes stared upon the stage at their prom queen, now drenched in red sludge, her beautiful dress ruined.

Tommy Ross, the prom king, was staring at his date, some of the liquid (blood, literal blood, he realizes in horror) splashing all over his rental tuxedo. After the initial shock, anger bubbled in his chest so quickly his ears turned red and he turned to the crowd, searching for who could’ve done something so awful, his shouts of “What the hell?!” cutting through the quiet.

In the front row, George Dawson seemed to have the same reaction, he always was quick to anger but now he had a fair reason to. He was disgusted someone would do this, and almost everyone around him agreed. Almost.

It only took a minute for Norma to snort, and double over to quiet her laughter. A few others chuckled but otherwise they were alone in finding this funny.

The only one who hadn’t moved was Carrie. She was frozen, mouth agape and eyes wide. She only moved when the bucket itself came crashing down, right onto Tommy. She tried to catch him but he just collapsed onto the stage, groaning in pain.

People knew immediately something was off when she stood up straight, shoulders back and arms extending out at her sides. The ones who were laughing decided they wanted to leave, the pungent smell of the stale blood getting gross and killing their good time.

There were a few shouts of confusion and fear when the doors suddenly slammed shut and the room was flooded in red light. When one of the jocks tried to open it, he yelled in pain, like the door handle burned him.

That’s what made Tommy stir on the ground, his head aching and warmth trailing down his face. When he looked up the gym was in chaos, people screaming and trampling each other to find a way out. One guy, someone Tommy knew, had climbed up to try the window, but he was flung off like a bug. A squeaking noise made him look up and the fire sprinklers flipped on.

Murky water fell over everyone, only adding to the rotten smell permeating what with the blood also having its own stench. Tommy’s breath caught as he looked around, his eyes finally landing on Carrie.

She seemed unresponsive, barely even blinking as the chaos unfolded around her, like she was in the middle, stirring up the misfortune herself.

“Carrie- huff,” Tommy started, pulling himself up off the ground. His head spun and he nearly got sick with everything mixing around him, his stomach was never the strongest. “Carrie, we have to get you out of here.”

She didn’t move, didn’t even look at him, just tilted her chin up indignantly. The lights above them suddenly sparked, clearly not mixing well with the water. That frightened Tommy a lot, they could all die, and it seemed that’s probably what Carrie was aiming for.

“Carrie!” Tommy tried again, grabbing onto her shoulders. His breath was getting more frantic as he looked around behind him. “Carrie, listen to me. Look at me, Carrie.”

She blinked then, eyes focusing on the boy in front of her. She looked like she was on the brink of tears. When she noticed the blood flowing down his face it only made her feel worse.

“Is this why?” Her voice was quiet, if Tommy had been any further away he wouldn’t have been able to hear. “Is this why you asked me to go with you?”

A devastated look crossed over Carrie’s face. “So you could laugh at me?” Tommy gulped, really starting to feel sick now, realizing that in some sick way this was partially his fault. “She was right, I shouldn’t have come, I shouldn’t have-”

“No! Carrie, if I knew it wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t know- I swear whoever did this is dead.” He shouted, his grip on her shoulders tightening. “Please, you need to calm down. Just breathe, we can get you out of here.”

Flames caught his eye, the curtain behind them was on fire. They needed to go, now. Carrie sniffled, the tears finally falling. “They all laughed at me, they laughed…”

Tommy looked back at the crowd then back to Carrie. “No one laughed, no one did Carrie.” She let out a breath like she’d been holding it. The heat from the fire was getting unbearable.

“Do you swear?” Carrie whispered, looking up at him. She was in agony, he could see it clear on her face.

“Carrie, I swear.” Tommy holds out his arms for her, finally stepping back to lead her away from the gym. He could hear sirens approaching.

Carrie looked out a final time before the doors swung open and the students flooded out. The air was cool which was relieving to everyone. She took his hands then, and he led her off the stage out to the cool evening air.

Sue Snell pushed her way through everyone, Frank Green (notoriously known as the Beak) and George at her side, searching through the scared faces for Tommy and Carrie. “There they are!” She shouts, grabbing her friends and making their way over to the pair.

Tommy perked up at the sound of Sue’s voice, carefully leading Carrie to the grass so they could sit. Further away from everyone. Sue ran over and pulled Tommy down into a hug. Beak and George made their way over a second after, clearly left behind in the madness behind them.

Whispers were exchanged between the group, everyone sparing sympathetic glances to Carrie every once in a while. Carrie just sunk in on herself, Trying to calm herself down enough so she could walk home, figuring she messed up their night enough.

It surprised her all when they all sat around her, Tommy to her left and Sue on the other side. Beak and George settled across from them.

They didn’t talk, no one really knew what to say. It was Carrie who broke the silence. “I ruined your plans with your friends, didn’t I?”

Tommy just shook his head as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders. “No,” he assured her. “You didn’t do anything wrong at all, actually.”

Carrie blinked up at him, tears threatening to fall again but she willed them away and sank into the coat. If it was salvageable before, it’s definitely ruined now. Tommy wondered if the rental place had it in their hearts to cut them some slack.

“Carrie I- we- are so sorry,” Sue spoke up, reaching to hold her hand. “I tried to stop it, if I knew they were planning something I wouldn’t have asked, that was so cruel.” She whispered the end of her apology, like she couldn’t believe it had happened.

Carrie ducks her head. “I shouldn’t have come,” she says back. “Mama was right I shouldn’t have.” The group share worried glances, but they’ll unpack that later.

George sneers. “Don’t you think like that, it was fun at the beginning right?” Carrie glances up to him and nods. “Right! Don’t you worry, whoever did this will pay.” Frank nods along beside him, patting him on the shoulder encouragingly. “So inspiring.” Beak always did like to make a joke, to lighten the mood when things were heavy.

Tommy’s arm tucks around her, pulling Carrie closer to comfort her. “Even if it all ended bad, we’re all together, right?” He looked down to her, waiting for the response. Even now he’s pushing her gently, to get her out there. Maybe this is Tommy’s super power. She had telekinesis and he was good at making anyone comfortable, even Carrie White.

“Right,” she finished for him, which made Tommy smile. In return it made Carrie smile. Sue reached and brushed some bloody hair out of Carrie’s face.

“Wow, Sue,” Beak starts. “Before too long Carrie might steal Tommy from you curled up to him like that. Sue laughed and Carrie smiled, cheeks flushing red under the caked up blood.

Tommy grinned and shot him a look. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you beat her to it and steal me yourself, smart guy?”

Beak opened his mouth but was quickly cut off by George. “Oi! Don’t be comin’ onto my man y’ hear?” He shot back, elbowing Frank with a grin.

Tommy felt Carrie’s shoulders bouncing, but when he looked to her to see if she was crying, a small grin graced her face and quiet giggles bubbled up. Despite it all she was laughing. It made something twist in Tommy’s chest, he had to make himself look away.

“It isn’t much,” Sue starts. “But if you all wanted to stop by my house to get cleaned up, maybe we could still go to the Hive.” Carrie perks up, of course Sue was invited, why wouldn’t she be?

George whooped excitedly. “You’re a lifesaver, Susan, I really need a shake after all this.” Everyone cheered in agreement.

“Carrie?” Tommy said quietly. She looked up to him, still smiling a little. “Would that be okay?” He was so patient with her.

Commotion caught her attention though and she looked past Tommy towards the gym. The flames had been dealt with it’d seem, but that’s not what she’s looking at.

Two police officers were taking Chris Hargensen and Billy Nolan out of the school, Chris kicking and shouting the whole way to the car. Miss Collins watched them go, nothing but anger in her eyes. It only made Carrie’s smile widen. She hoped she’d never have to see Chris ever again after this.

“Yes,” she finally replied. “That seems fun.” Tommy grinned and stood, offering his hands to Carrie first to help her stand, then to Sue. “No help for me?” Frank joked. “Shut up, Beak,” Tommy joked back.

The rest of the night was filled with similar jokes, everything being kept lighthearted (lucky for Carrie, she may fall apart if anything else bad happened). The Hive was so much better than she imagined. They had delicious waffle fries, and soda flavors she didn’t know existed, she and Sue even shared an ice cream. Everything was perfect. She prayed to God that come Monday morning she wouldn’t be forgotten by Tommy Ross, or any of them.

#carrie 1976 #carrie white #tommy ross #sue snell #george dawson #frank green #the beak #fic #au #fix it fic

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

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For a considerable amount of the day, Oikawa found himself seized by a net of emotions. Aiding Osamu in his quest to earn your forgiveness was certainly the correct decision, a fact affirmed by your reaction to the cook’s presence. Yet, since his departure from the apartment, the setter struggled to lift the corners of his mouth into a smile. What plagued him stemmed from a rather selfish desire, albeit a natural one. The thought of returning home to an empty apartment had stirred awake a sense of loneliness, one that had been dormant since your arrival. Truthfully, he missed his best friends, and while he knew that Japan was your home, he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

And was it really that terrible that he wanted to spend a little more time with you?

A mixture between a sigh and grunt was exhaled by the volleyball player as he twisted the doorknob and nudged open the door. Maybe it was time for him to get a roommate. It would certainly be better than spending most of his time alone.

“Tooru?”

Pausing mid-step, his eyes travelled across the room, instantly searching for the one who called him.

“Y/n? You’re still here?” The brunette blinked slowly, adjusting to the dimmed lighting. It took him a few seconds to process the scene ahead – but there you were, lounging on the couch with a pillow hugged against your chest. His first instinct was to scan the open space for a second figure, though to his disbelief, you were alone. “I thought you would have left with the onigiri man.”

His admission was initially responded to with a little tisk, with the sound resonating from the inside of your mouth. The noise prompted the setter to expel a partially suppressed chortle as he tossed his keys onto the coffee table. Your artificial display of disappointment only increased the joy slowly washing over him. He had spent the entire day fixated on the possibility that you would leave without a goodbye, thereby neglecting to consider that you could have chosen to stay.

“Was that disappointment in your voice, Tooru?” Adjusting your position on the couch, you narrowed your eyelids into a questioning glare. Of course, you knew it wasn’t disappointment laced into his inquiry, and yet you felt compelled to tease him.

“Oh yeah, didn’t you know? I only invited Miya here to get rid of you.”

The snarky remark did not pierce through your false veil of suspicion, and when he claimed the spot next to you on the couch, a playful growl vibrated inside your throat.

“How unfortunate that I got rid of him instead.”

“Yeah right. You didn’t.” Oikawa was well acquainted with your teasing ways, and the sarcasm coating your witty counter did not go unnoticed. There were also other factors that led him to dismiss your response. The likelihood of you remaining inside and sober after breaking off your relationship was extremely low. Additionally, even if your emotional stability tipped on the scale towards insanity, he could not see you murdering your fiancé. Murdering the girl who had caused this entire mess, though? He could predict that. And he knew for a fact, you would be a very theatrical killer, and if anyone would be your partner in crime, it would be Hanamaki.

But that was not the point right now!

Noticing the setter’s gaze travel in the opposite direction as his mind wandered, you rolled your eyes, providing your head a short shake. “Of course, I didn’t.”

The annoyance in your response guided him back to the conversation, forcing him to abandon his concerns about your mental state. Stretching out slightly, he brushed his knee against yours, seeking to demonstrate that you once again had his full attention. “So, if you didn’t get rid of him, why are you still here?”

“Wow, now I’m seriously thinking you did want to get rid of me!” A dramatic gasp parted your lips, as you scooted forward, fully intending on delivering his forehead a flick if he continued this charade.

“Y/n, don’t look at me like that!” Lifting his hands in surrender, laughter bubbled from his chest. “You know what I mean. What’s going on? You two are usually inseparable.” It was for that reason alone, he thought you would have elected to leave tonight.

The question generated a wave of exhaustion to collide with your chest, prompting a knot to form inside your ribcage. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip roughly, you shifted your attention to the television, seeking a remedy for your sudden change in mood. The alteration in your confidence surprised him.

“Things have changed, Tooru.” Bitterness crawled up your esophagus, disguising itself as laughter as you curled your fingers in, digging your nails into your palms. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours obsessing over that. I didn’t want things to change. I was happy before.” Frustrated with the vulnerability in your words, tension strained your jaw. “I don’t want to start over from the beginning. I loved my relationship with him… Well... mostly. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” The cries spilling from your swollen lips were intertwined with a silent beg – as if you were pleading him to say something – anything, that could solve the damage your relationship had endured.

“So, don’t start over from the beginning. Things went wrong recently right. Redo the last three months.” His solution had sounded much more refined in his head, and now that he vocalized it, it dawned on him how ridiculous it was. A tense smile stretched out his lips as you squinted at him, attempting to comprehend what the hell was just said.

“Do you have a time machine I don’t know about, Jimmy Neutron? Because if you do, I have a few points in time that I would like to revisit.” The emotions that had sparked just a moment ago faltered, with amusement claiming its spot. While his solution did not provide you the remedy you sought, it did at least silence the increasing irritation flooding your nerves.

“You did not just compare me to that acorn headed kid.” Bewildered, Oikawa reeled back, straightening his posture.

“I always thought his hair looked like ice cream.” A thoughtful expression painted your features, the ridiculousness of your comment further soothing the erratic beating inside of your chest.

“I’m sorry – what?” He was unsure whether you were purposefully deflecting or if this was merely the result of your minimal attention span. Either way, he needed to guide you back to the topic that required addressing. “You know, this is not the point! I was trying to support you.” Reaching out, he poked at your nose with his index finger.

“Oh, I know. Emphasis on ‘trying’.” Snickering to yourself, you gently swatted away his finger. But the male took the action to heart, holding the now ‘injured’ limb to his chest protectively.

“At least I’m trying.” The puppy-like expression that brought his caramel irises to expand dismantled any desire you had to continue teasing him.

“Fine, tell me Bill Nye. How do I ‘redo’ the last three months?” Your brows were provided a lift, indicting your willingness to receive his ‘advice’.

“I didn’t mean literally! I meant, work on what went wrong. Like…” Permitting his gaze to wander away from yours, he laced his fingers together, twiddling his thumbs. “your drinking habits.” The comment was followed by a little innocent whistle, and from the side of his eye, he saw you twitch at the sound.

“Okay. Touché, pretty boy.” He was absolutely correct in his assessment, but that did not keep your features from twitching into a scowl. Why did he have to come for you like that?

“You’re going to have to accept that your relationship won’t go back to normal right away. But what you can do is try and work on what went wrong.” Based on your receptiveness to his first suggestion, Oikawa assumed you would be open to hearing his additional comments. But he was sadly mistaken.

“What do you think you are, a marriage counselor?” Feigning disgust, you planted your palms on his cheeks, squishing his face together. “What are you going to say next? A relationship is something that can bloom? And communication is something you can polish?”

“On second thought, I do want you gone!” As you continued to play with his face, the setter sniffled before curling his lips out into a pout. Cold. You were so damn cold.

“I’m just kidding. Come here, ice cream head.” After releasing his cheeks from your grip, you snaked your arms around his neck, drawing him into a tight embrace. “I appreciate you a lot.”

Your words provided Oikawa a bit of comfort, but he continued to pout, aiming to tug on your heartstrings.

“You better.”

Let’s do it again, shall we - jimmy neutron

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: so in this part and the next I have purposefully included little references to earlier parts & the prequel ;3

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @yourstarvic @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna @momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @4fterh0urs @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles @meiikuki @cuddlejeongin @tchalameme @ditu-m9 @elianetsantana

Taglist continued in the comments from my personal ❣️

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu smau #hq osamu #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya #miya osamu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

oooo.....8+11 combo? 👀

dug in my inbox to find the leftover spring prompts from last year, this one seems a little too relevant rn 😩 have some (eventual!) steamy makeouts

8. Cabin Fever/Winter Madness + 11. “You have a really low cold tolerance.”

from spring fic prompts meme here

————–

“If you think this is cold,” Newt says, “you should try Boston in the winter. That’s cold, man. One year–”

“Shut up,” Hermann says.

“One year I, like, lost my keys in a fucking foot of snow, right, outside my apartment, and it was super late and my landlord wasn’t answering the fucking phone so I had to dig around for an hour before–”

“Shut up,” Hermann says.

“It could be worse, is what I’m saying,” Newt says. “That’s all. Much worse.”

Hermann levels him with a fierce, soul-withering scowl, visible even through the layers of scarves and hats he’s wrapped around himself under his usual puffy parka. He looks like some sort of knitwear mummy. Fucking drama queen as usual–they get stationed somewhere moderately colder than Hong Kong for one winter, and Hermann acts like they’ve been kicked out and left to starve in the middle of the Arctic tundra. Newt’s been treated to a week of appropriate dramatics, of shivering, and sniffling, and mittens in the lab (and he’ll admit it’s pretty funny to see Hermann try to scrawl on his chalkboard like that), and the latest, Hermann’s crusade to acquire every single heat lamp and space heater on base. He has a pretty sizable collection already, and they’re angled around his half of the lab in a little semi-circle of glowing orange warmth.

It feels like a sauna. Hermann hasn’t shed a single layer.

“Y’know, dude, I don’t think the problem is the weather,” Newt says. “I think the problem is that you have a crazy low cold tolerance.”

“I don’t require your speculations about my biology, thank you very much,” Hermann snaps. He squeaks out another few numbers before his chalk drops from his mitten and to the floor, where it snaps in two; he swears, and bats it angrily with the end of his cane. Newt watches it fly under his desk to settle with three other similarly fated pieces.

“I’m not speculating,” he says. “I’m observing. Is it poor circulation? Or maybe it’s ‘cause you’re too goddamned skinny--you need more insulation, dude.” He drums on his stomach, unintentionally smearing kaiju guts across himself. “Like me. Padding.”

But Hermann ignores him. Newt shrugs it off and begins to divest himself of his work gear–first headlamp, then newly-soiled apron, then disposable gloves. The gloves go right in the garbage. The apron over the back of his desk chair. When he finishes, he struts across the lab makes himself at home on the stiff little metal stool Hermann keeps by his chalkboard. “Well,” Newt says. “Is that why?”

Hermann’s forehead hits the chalkboard with a wool-softened thump. “Please leave me alone,” he pleads, voice muffled, and Newt hops off the stool with a grin.

Hermann was absolutely overreacting, but as January stretches into February, and the snow begins to pile up and up, Newt kinda thinks he may have been onto something after all. Shatterdomes seem to have been designed to be excessively damp and drafty; while the chill was often welcome in humid Hong Kong, here it just leaves Newt permanently shivering in his leather jacket and sleeping with two layers of quilts at night. Hermann upgrades to an industrial-sized heat lamp that’s large enough to keep a kaiju toasty and lights up the lab like the sun.

Their routines change, too: Hermann doesn’t sneak off to the roof for cigarettes anymore, and Newt doesn’t take the bus into the city to get them takeout or fancy coffee anymore. They just...stay in the lab. All day. Every day.

But, still. “Still not as bad as Boston,” Newt says one morning, teeth chattering.

“I filed a ticket with maintenance weeks ago about fixing the bloody heating,” Hermann snarls. “And yet–” This time, when his chalk lands on the other half of the room, it’s because he’s thrown it. Hermann only ever throws his chalk for two reasons: one, with a decidedly Newt-focused vector, as a result of Newt being very, very annoying, and two, when he’s so frustrated he can’t even bring himself to think. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this, Newton.”

“The cold?” Newt says.

“The cold,” Hermann says. “Being–” He waves his hand around, encompassing the whole of their tiny lab, which is somehow even smaller than their lab–their beautiful, warm lab–in Hong Kong. Newt misses it more than anything in the entire world. Except for, like, comic cons. “Shut away down here. It’s maddening.”

“It’s only two more months,” Newt says, and then–once the gravity of that information hits him, “oh, God, it’s two more months.”

“I’m retiring to my quarters,” Hermann says, wearily, “for a drink.”

Twenty minutes later, stowed away safely in Hermann’s space heater-warmed bunk, Hermann fixes two even servings of instant coffee in two badly-chipped blue mugs, and Newt picks one of them up with a frown. “When you said drink,” he says, “I kinda thought…”

“Yes,” Hermann says, “and I thought I hadn’t invited you. Very strange how these things turn out.”

He pulls a small bottle of whiskey from nowhere and tips some into his mug.

“Dude,” Newt says, and quickly makes grabby-hands towards it before Hermann can spirit it away again. Hermann acquiesces with a sigh, and Newt tips slightly less than Hermann into his own mug. He might have more meat on his bones than Hermann, but that doesn’t mean he can hold his booze anywhere near as well as the guy. He’s ended far too many drinking contests needing to be walked home by an exasperated Hermann.

They sip their coffee in silence, Hermann sitting on the edge of his bed, Newt in Hermann’s desk chair, their knees bumping together with every breath. The drink burns Newt’s throat going down. Not in the good, warming-him-up way, either. “This is kinda gross,” he admits, making a face.

“It is,” Hermann agrees, mirroring Newt’s expression exactly. He sets his mug down on his bedside table and pushes it as far away from himself as possible. “I suppose I understand now why it was so inexpensive.”

“The coffee or the booze?” Newt says.

“Both,” Hermann says, and gives Newt an awkward little smile.

Newt’s been in Hermann’s quarters plenty of times back in Hong Kong, where their rooms are adjacent to, and quite literally extensions of, the lab, but here–in these cramped, cold, unfamiliar confines, with Hermann smiling at him, and Hermann’s knees rubbing against him, and Hermann’s coffee breath ghosting warm over his face–it feels shockingly intimate. Like Newt’s intruding on some sort of private inner sanctum of Hermann’s. He kinda...likes it.

He settles his hand on Hermann’s knee. “Hey,” he says, “you wanna fool around a little?”

Hermann’s eyebrows fly up to his bangs, and he jerks back sharply. It’s not really the reaction Newt was hoping for, but he can’t say it’s surprising. At least Hermann hasn’t pushed his hand away. “You’re not serious,” he says.

“I’m just saying,” Newt says. “It’s not like we have anything else to do. It could be fun. And, you know, sharing body heat would warm us up and all.” When Hermann’s skeptical expression doesn’t waver, he tries for a different tactic. “Look–you can’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

“Can’t I?” Hermann says.

“I have,” Newt says. Hermann’s eyebrows inch higher. “Plenty of times. I know you’ve gotta be curious, too.”

How can Newt not be curious? They’re basically glued to each other’s sides, basically each other’s only contact with the outside world outside of maintenance workers and the odd deliveryman. Newt’s alone-time-fantasies basically have to star Hermann if he wants them to be realistic. Besides, he’d be lying through his teeth if he said he didn’t get some sort of strange thrill out of their endless, magnificently-matched arguments. It really gets his blood pumping, y’know? He’s sure they’d be just as much of a match elsewhere.

Besides. Hermann stares way too much at his ass for someone who’s not curious.

Hermann chews on his lower lip.

“If you don’t like it, we could always stop,” Newt says.

Hermann chews on his lower lip some more. Then he begins to unzip his parka. “Hurry up before I change my mind,” he says, and Newt scrambles onto the bed.

Neither of them are very good kissers, but Newt strongly maintains it’s the thought that counts when it comes to these sort of things. Hermann more than makes up for it with his hands, anyway: his hands in Newt’s hair, his hands on Newt’s shoulders, his hands wrapping around Newt’s love handles, his hands inching and inching up Newt’s chest and shoving off his leather jacket. Newt tries to make up for things on his end by focusing the bulk of his attention to moving his lips up and down Hermann’s neck.

Hermann has plenty to say about this, apparently. “There,” he says. “No, no, down a little. Down.”

Newt drags his lips as directed, adding a little teeth just for kicks, and settles them in at the juncture of Hermann’s pretty, slender throat and one of Hermann’s pretty, elegant collarbones. Hermann let him undo a whole button of his shirt. The tart. “Here?” he mumbles.

“Up more,” Hermann says.

“Dude,” Newt says.

“Fine, there,” Hermann says. He tugs on Newt’s hair again. “Use your teeth a little more. No, that’s too much. Gently. Gently. Are you even listening to me?”

Trust Hermann to micro-manage everything, even a fucking hickey. Newt pulls away and pouts. “You’re killing the mood, Hermann.”

“Shut it,” Hermann says. “Lie back. I’ll show you how it’s done.” They swap positions, Newt pushed against Hermann’s unfairly soft pillows and mattress, Hermann hefting his weight--with a grunt--to his good knee and straddling Newt’s thighs. “It’s very simple,” he says. Newt’s top three buttons are swiftly undone, and Hermann’s mouth grazes across previously uncovered skin. Then he bites down.

It’s like getting two jolts of electricity down his spine. “Shit,” Newt yelps. He shoves Hermann away and begins to whine, more out of reflex than anything, because--if he’s being honest with himself--it felt kinda awesome. “Get your goddamn vampire fangs off me! That wasn’t gentle at all.”

Hermann hmphs; his ears go red. “Perhaps I was a bit over-zealous.”

“No shit,” Newt says. He touches Hermann’s teeth marks with a wince, then again, this time with a slightly smaller wince. “Okay,” he says, “okay, I think I’m good. Do it again.”

“Again?” Hermann echoes.

Newt shrugs, a move made difficult by the fact that Hermann’s body is pinning him pretty steadfastly to the bed. “What else is there to do?”

Hermann needs less convincing this time. “Mm,” he says. “Would you like to go back on top? It’s more comfortable for me that way.” His awkward little smile returns; his eyelashes flutter adorably. “And--you’re very warm.”

“Sure,” Newt says, heart swelling. “C’mon, help me with the blankets, no use being on them--”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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nanabrainrot · 4 years

Note

Hello hello~ I really enjoyed Same Old, Same old and I was wondering if you can write something about Joker having an S/O who gets really injured because someone knew of their connection with him and how he would react? :>

Of course!! Thank you for requesting! I initially started jotting some headcanons that got a bit lengthy until I decided to make a fic instead 💚 hope you enjoy !

Inevitably

Summary: You watch Joker get abused for years before he became the man he was today. For the first time, you come instead, body litered with bruises and dirtied scrapes and watch him do what you wish you could have done a long time ago. After all, an eye for an eye.

Pairing: Joker/Reader, Arthur Fleck/Reader

Warning: violence, cigarette smoking, murder, swearing

You were gone for 13 hours when you come home, limping in silence across the dark alleys of Gotham. Even though Joker had come and go for hours at a time, even after timely shifts, you managed to be home after 14 hours max if you were working. The dry/erase calendar propped on the wall marked that you worked yesterday until what was supposed to be 9 at night. Arthur sat on the couch, anxious bouncing his legs, clad in orange argyle print pajama pants, waiting, waiting for you to frolick through the door, groceries in hand, and your keys on the other hand, that keychain of a furry heart jumping around. And he does see the keychain in the doorway, you standing next to it, nose still drooling dark red blood, cheek bright red, lip busted and bruises on your wrists and the fury that pulses through him is otherworldly. All of him feels the animal in him want to sit you down, tell him who it was, where it was, why this happened but - but, the dull look in your eyes draws him away from the festering fire in his chest. Later, he thought, as he stood up. You could tell his muscles were tense as rock when he stood stiffly, trying to look calm and collected as he rove over to you.

“Go to the bathroom, y/n.” You oblige, limping undeniably. As Arthur hears your sharp breaths as you sat on the toilet lid, you heard the front door slam shut with more violence than you expected. A part of you expected some disturbing reaction from him and, there it was, you just hoped in your heart of hearts that he would care for you first before the rampage began; care for you the way you did so long for him. So he does.

His calloused hands turn on a warm bath, draw back the layers of bloody clothes, your favorite bra was cut on the side from a knife, your nice cardigan missing its buttons from being literally ripped off you, the sleeves of your long-sleeve literally cut, lines cut across your arms and legs through the fabric of your clothes, some new, some old. You look at him with big, puppydog eyes, like a dog in a shelter looking sad, distrusting, after being hit. He brushed through your hair with a wide tooth comb, trying to get some blood out, trying not to be too rough; he was getting riled up as you cried not so silently from the pain of the cuts, hands clutching tight on the rim of the bathtub. The water fucking hurt on the new wounds, but you were so dirty from scrambling away from the warehouse and tripping over and over, falling from the pain, getting more dirt in the wounds, scraping your knees, your new shoes are dirty and he screaming behind you, running not quick enough due to his fat self and you’re running toward the bay and —

“It’s the best I can do.” Joker’s on his knees on front of you, whose sitting nude on the edge of the bathtub, his green eyes are empty and full at the same time and you can see in the blue paint under his eyes are dribbling from crying. He was crying for you. You sit there, hair wet and dripping down your back, watching his back as he stalks out of the restroom. You hadn’t realized how fully lost in thought you were until you realized the bath ended some time ago and you stared at the array of bandages, silly Disney patterns covering your legs, medical wrap on your arms. When he comes back in the bathroom, he’s fully dressed. Blood orange fabric lines his body, the bright green button-up contrasting with his pale neck, adam apple bobbing as he swallowed his potential tears. His warm hands are holding a pair of old gym cobalt blue shorts from college you used for bed now and a thin white camisole; you see your favorite socks, fuzzy mint green aloe socks, and smile a bit. He remembers so much about you, everything you love remains with him. He helps you dress, letting you hold onto his shoulders, tightly gripping the shoulder pads in lip-biting pain as he slides on the gym shorts, frowning at the hiss you let out when he settles the tight waistline snugly on your hips. The fabric of his waistcoat mesmerizes you as he pulls the white camisole over your raised arms, whimpering at your sore shoulder joints from being held behind your back. He kisses the top of each foot before he slides on the socks for you, guiding you like a seeing eye dog to the sofa from the bathroom.

You sit on the sofa, head hung in shame, dripping the water from your hair onto the sofa’s printed fabric, almost waiting to be scolded. This had never happened before, not to you, and all of you didn’t want to tell Joker. You remembered what the rotund man, olive skinned and weird curling brown hair atop his big head, said: “If you tell the fucking clown something, tell him this wouldn’t have happened if he gave Eustice his fucking guns. Ernie sends his regards.”

“Tell me who, y/n,” he breathes out some ciagrette smoke from the other side of the sofa, lips tightened around the filter after every tense puff, “I’ll find out anyway. I need to know who put their hands on you.” You breathed a deep breath, hands fidgeting with the medical wraps on your wrists, swallowing thickly before saying, “A man named Ernie sends his regards and, um, something about a Eustice guy’s guns.” You lowered your eyes and sniffled weakly, “My legs hurt, Art.” The other side of the couch creaked as he stood up and leaned over, pressing a long kiss against the top of your head. His greasepaint smudges at the mouth from your wet hair and the tightness of his lips tell you you want nothing to do with the aftermath of this inevitable truth: being with Joker was a danger. But everything was a danger; you could die in a derailed train, or slip in the shower and break your neck, anything. Being with Joker was the danger that gave you an adrenaline rush, but that momentary bullshit when you reach the top of a roller coaster; this would go on until one of you bit the sharp end of a bullet one day or another.

The door clicks open. “I’ll be back. I love you.” The door doesn’t close. It never does until you say it back. “I love you too, Arthur.”

The door clicks shut.

You have work the next day, the shift agonizing on your cuts but you continue anyway. Joker made good but dishonest money these days but, regardless of his pushes for you to be his little housepet, you wanted to work. You were a good, honest worker who collected their paycheck every week for working hard. You knew his housepet schpiel would hit you harder since your ugly run-in with the men he met with whenever he left the apartment too long. When you head home, you’re unsurprised but concerned by the lack of Arthur in the living room. You hear the shower running and grin, but it fades quick after the sharp pain from your swollen cheek hits you. You settle on the couch after discarding your sneakers by the entryway, slowly slipping off your jacket to mind the cuts and the news is on and — the news is on.

Ernie is on the television. Not alive, the pretty newscaster has a picture of his big, swollen face next to her, as she monotonously ran off the news: “This just in, police responded to a noise disturbance call in West Gotham, at the intersection of Elm Avenue and Horatio Court, so be advised to steer clear of that area due to the ongoing investigation. Ernie Poulimas has been found in the middle of the street, dead from what appears to be an execution style gunshot wound to the head, his arms and legs tied behind him, nude in the street. The words ‘hands off her’ carved into his back. If you have any information, contact the GCPD with —”

Arms encircle you as you stare at the screen with wide, horrified eyes. Somewhere in your gut, satisfaction at his death remains dormant, disguised by the shock in your face, but Joker doesn’t see it, as wet green droplets drip onto your work shirt as he nuzzles into your neck from behind the couch, wet as a dog. “You never have to worry again. Never again.”

Your stomach drops at the news, but... somewhere in you lies the sheer satisfaction of knowing no crime goes unpunished, not with the Joker. Never with the Joker.

#joaquin phoenix joker #joker scenario #joker x reader #joker imagine #joker headcanons #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck scenario #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck headcanons #Joker (2019)#Joker #joker x you #arthur fleck x you

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spiderman-homecomeme · 5 years

Note

Cute fluffy prompt: mj acts like she’s not impressed with the whole Spider-Man thing so peter keeps making excuses to show off his powers/strength in front of her

Okay this prompt is so freaking cute and im so sorry this took me forever, but here it is!! I hope you like it!!

Get ready for 1.5k of some good ol’ fashioned fluff

Peter shouldn’t be all that surprised that upon finding out his secret identity as the vigilante known as Spider-Man, Michelle reacts in perhaps the most Michelle-way possible.

She’s indifferent.

Not entirely impressed.

Maybe even a bit annoyed?

Now, it wasn’t as if he’d expected her to just… fawn over him, to sing his praises in her overt adoration of his deeds. He knew it wasn’t like that; MJ wasn’t like that. But… she could’ve at least faked some enthusiasm. A simple, “Wow! That’s cool!” would’ve been much appreciated.

She could have at least tried to reach Ned’s enthusiasm.

Because Peter has literal, actual superpowers for crying out loud.

He can climb walls.

He fights crime.

But nope.

Nothing.

Just the quirk of an eyebrow accompanied by a comically apathetic, “Yeah. And?”

Because of course she already knew.

The double take he’d done at her response may or may not have given him a minor case of whiplash. He’d sputtered, face turning an embarrassing shade of beet red as he scrambled to form coherent, human sentences—something that had become somewhat of a theme in his conversations with MJ.

It’s not as if he needs his ego stroked; honestly, that is the least of his priorities. But… he has this crazy, overwhelming desire for MJ’s seal of approval; hell, just a nod, a smile, or even a thumbs up would do. Some acknowledgement, at least.

He, for some inexplicable reason, wants so badly to just impress her.

And he finds himself caring a lot more about whether or not she’s impressed the more and more he tries.

She doesn’t care when he shows her his lightning fast reflexes; he’s lost count of how many times he’s asked her to throw something at him so he can show off that particular skill.

“Hey, MJ, toss me the remote?”

“Hey, MJ, pass me that can of sprite!”

“Hey, MJ, literally just throw my calc book at me.”

(He also wonders if he should be worried that she’s always willing to chuck something at his face every time he asks, without hesitation.)

She couldn’t care less when he hangs from the ceiling by a single thread—okay, it’s maybe more than that, but still—when they’re studying in her room one day, his face scrunched in concentration as he reads Great Expectations from his position.

He can feel her eyes on him, stare calculating as she watches him with a mix of judgement and confusion. An expression that wordlessly asks, “What the absolute fuck are you doing?”

“What?” As innocent as he can act in a situation like this, Peter shrugs, feigning ignorance. “It’s more comfortable.”

She scoffs.

She’s even more unimpressed, maybe even borderline annoyed, when he shows off just how agile he is by literally backflipping onto the couch during a movie night with her and Ned like he’s some kind of Olympic gymnast.

Peter’s smile is triumphant as he lands, feeling pretty damn good about himself, eyes not-so-subtly glancing over to MJ, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Was that necessary?” she asks, tilting her head in miffed bewilderment.

Okay, maybe she had a point.

Even Ned, who was arguably Spider-Man’s number one fan, seems to think the overt display of gymnastics is a bit much.

And that’s saying something.

Peter’s strength doesn’t really do much for her either, or at least he’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He can lift around ten tons,—but who’s counting, really?— stop a bus with his bare hands. He’s stopped the Winter Soldier’s actual metal arm before.

Come on, even the person with the highest standards in the world would think that was at least a little bit cool.

There may have been a hint of a smile, a faint sense of admiration and approval when he lifts up the school lockers with incredible ease, snatching the spare jar of web fluid, making sure to twirl it a couple of times for good measure.

“Wow,” she says, almost breathlessly, with a hint of… What is that?… Wonder? Reverence?

“Way to damage school property, Spidey.”

And like that, he deflates.

He brings out the big guns when he offers her a ride—or, a swing, if you will—when she’s running late to her after school job at one of the local bookstores. She agrees, but only after nearly rolling her eyes out of her head.

To this day, he can still feel the way the butterflies had nearly erupted in his stomach as she’d wrapped her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his as he’d gripped her waist, holding her steady; the way her breath had hitched in her throat as he leapt into the air, the way she’d buried her face in the crook of his neck, the ghost-like touch of her lips less than an inch from his jaw.

He can also still hear the way she’d screamed bloody murder right in his ear the entire swing.

He was pretty sure she might have puked all over him and his suit if it had lasted even a second longer.

Needless to say, Michelle was not impressed.

Not in the slightest.

Really, at this point, Peter begins to think that there was truly no way to please her.

And, slowly but surely, he gets to where he can kind of, sort of accept it.

He’s pretty sure he’ll never get over this whole desire to impress her, but for the time being, maybe he can chill a bit with the showing off.

After all, she’d said it better than he could have.

“Okay, now you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

He nods in silent, albeit a little sheepish, agreement, hands on his hips as he turns his gaze to the ground.

He’d just made one more, one more valiant effort in his quest to get MJ to admit that this whole Spider-Man thing was cool.

Actually offering to take her on patrol with him may have been a mistake.

This sunny Saturday afternoon must have been the day all the criminals in New York decided to take a day off.

And, yeah, it may not have been a good idea in hindsight, with the danger and all that. But give him a break, they were already hanging out… They just happened to change location and he just happened to be wearing his suit.

No big deal.

Plus, he would have never let anything happen to her.

And even with all of that, she’d laughed, actually laughed, and declined, returning to her book as she sat on the park bench.

He knows it’s a fruitless effort, but damn it, he had to give it one last shot.

They’re interrupted when they hear the nearby wailing cry for help of a little girl, and in an instant, Peter’s gone.

As it turns out, the girl’s in no danger at all, but rather, her white kitten—whose name turns out to be Buttons—having got himself caught pretty high up in a tree.

Peter’s heartstrings tug at the way the little girl’s cries fill the air around him. He takes a moment to comfort her, telling her that everything—that Buttons is going to be okay; that he’ll be down before she knows it.

The girl sniffles, wiping at her eyes as she watches Spider-Man climb the tree—slowly, as not to startle the already skittish animal.

It takes minimal effort on his part, getting the frightened kitten down from the tree, but he still treats this as any other deed done as his heroic alter-ego; he handles the small bundle of fluffy white fur carefully as he returns to the ground.

And once again, he’s filled with the same warm, happy feeling he gets when he’s helped someone as the girl hugs the small cat in her arms, her smile practically glowing.

“Thank you, Spider-Man!”

He returns to MJ a moment later, who’s been watching the entire time.

Her face is impassive as he stands in front of her, book forgotten in her lap as she fixes him with a contemplative stare.

He already knows what she’s going to say, how she’s going to react. He’s not set up for disappointment that way.

He can practically hear the words already before she even speaks.

“Nice job, loser.”

Wait. Not those words—

What?

His head snaps up, the white eyes of his suit widening comically as he stares back at her, dumbfounded. “What did you say?”

At that, her lips press together into a thin, very very cute, smile. From what he could tell, there hadn’t been any hint of sarcasm in her tone. Her gaze now makes him feel comfortably uncomfortably warm under all the red and blue spandex.

Okay, he’s probably dreaming.

“I said,” she pauses. “Nice job, loser.”

“Oh,” is all he can muster at first, his voice a little breathless. He coughs, scratching the back of his head, trying to play it cool. “Thanks.”

She nods before quietly returning to her book. “Anytime, dude.”

He’d done it. He’d finally done it. All these days, these weeks, all this time.

And damn it, Peter can’t help but do his best golf fist bump when he’s sure MJ can’t see him, exclaiming a whispered, “yes!” under his breath.

“Please, don’t make me take it back,” she says without even glancing up from her page.

“Ah! Okay, sorry, sorry.”

#spideychelle #petermj #peter parker #michelle jones #peter parker x michelle jones #fic #prompt #fluff #i might start posting all these one shots on ao3 #not all at once ofc but ya knoww #this prompt might be one of my favs #it was so fun to write!!

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twistedsimblr · 5 years

Text

“ Trust Me.” Pt 2

I had no idea that bringing Meg to one of these “meetings” would result in an ass-whooping I never forgot.

Apparently, you had to be part of a clan, Yeah everyone who knows me well in this community knows how I

Feel about fucking clans. Bunch of cliquey bastards I don’t care how polite they seemed. I was never

Going to be one of them, I was an outcast a freak a mongrel I wasn’t pure But I was still a Grand Master

Of Brindleton Bay that had to be respected.

But I was wrong. Everything seemed to be going fine we ate food was okay. But I found it kinda odd that

Meg was getting a lot of attention.

She handled it pretty well and seemed flattered but nothing seemed to “work” on her

Next thing I knew we were separated. They were onto us. They didn’t look too kindly on those who didn’t belong to something. I didn’t think I needed to do as much as I did, it was just a misunderstanding. At least I’ll call it that.

But I did bring my gun just in case, equipped with silver nitrate bullets I managed to take some out with a shot between the eyes and in the eye at one point When I finally was able to defend myself and my wife.

I stuck it out, as best I could despite scoring one very dead or a vampire that was going to have a very bad headache or migraines for the rest of their life.

But my ass was beaten pretty badly All I and Meg were doing was taking a walk outside a courtyard it had a beautiful garden. That’s where we were jumped. to my surprise, I started taking damage quickly and even bled. my healing factor wasn’t keeping up to the damage I was sustaining in my dark form I was being beaten down so quickly I didn’t have a chance to act right away. They said something about

Being a fool for coming here with a human, and that I didn’t have the protection of a clan.

To which I replied... Before they nearly knocked me out of my misery. “I don’t need protecting... but you... might” And fuck clans and fuck you.

I hunched over defeated. But I could feel this power coursing through my veins I never felt before. I felt warm but most of all I felt angry. Like something within me was begging me to be released. I started hearing voices..Voices I hadn’t heard in a long time. A very long time... I honestly have no clue what my origin is but in a strange way I would hear occasionally a female voice. But it was not Megs... I still to this day do not know whose it was,

I felt myself being lifted. Whilst this was happening. Until Meg's voice cried out. “STOP!” and she fell silent sniffling her voice shakey “ brushing the hair away from her neck she said ” Just no more. Leave him alone...” “ Have at me!” Meg was clearly in distress but not willing to watch me maybe die. I could hear her crying but faintly. One already eagerly took upon themselves to almost help themselves

I had to act fast before they did anything to her. I fell to the ground and the moment I did things started to get really.... really dark. Like I was creating this dark bubble of dark emotions and dragging everyone involved in it. Not only that it basically knocked out the other vampires' ability to do anything. But bite her one was frozen in that state. Meg closed her eyes seeing her life flash before her eyes. But everything went quiet too quiet and dark. And she’d become confused. “What... the? “ She looked over at the vampire who was posed to bite her and almost succeeded

“ I ... I hear growling?” Her voice was quivering full of fear and puzzlement .. I managed to say a few words to her. “ It’s me... now GO”

I shoved her hard the impact sent her skidding a few feet but I had to do what was necessary. When she turned over her shoulder to see what was about to transpire I’ll never forget the look on her face of horror. Yet curiosity but now wasn’t the time to act on it.

I’d temporarily slowed time to allow Meg a chance to escape. And to deliver my killing blows I also didn’t have much time this takes a lot of out of me so I had to act fast as well.

Roaring would be a stupid idea here I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, I mean I was already going to come out of this naked because who needs clothes when you’ve completely faded into darkness and shadow. They were frozen in time like statues.

I slashed through them As they stood in place one still thinking it was going to bite my wife. I slapped him across his face distorting it for laughs sometimes I forget I can do that. I mean it literally looked like his head wasn’t on straight healing factor or not he’ll never get a chance to use it. This would be a long recovery period if there was one We’d be long gone by then hopefully.

My teeth were a little larger than the average vampire and I also had a double set of fangs so when I bite it hurts a lot because my fangs have a tendency to get stuck. Also, I can cause a severe allergic reaction in some people like a bee sting or a mosquito bite causing people to blow up sometimes even though I close up the wound afterward everytime. Must be my spit or something.

Vampires have a blood pool, so do I and if I don’t keep this... part of me fed I’ll also die It can literally kill me.. The process was nothing short of hilarious . when that played back in real time.

He didn’t know what to react to first the scream only lasted a few seconds before his face twisted like a wet rag being rung out before he finally fell to the ground in pieces in a zig-zag pattern I kinda butchered him too.

When I’m as black as the night. I am able to quickly slink away. I made sure my work was done quietly not only did I tear them to ribbons and their pieces could be quickly sold off to the nearest meat market here if there was one here. I had to feed quickly I grabbed what I could

And ran myself I also didn’t want Meg like this to see me cannibalize my own kind I’m not like other vampires. I don’t even think I was a vampire at this point .. What the hell was I anymore?

There is a bonus to this side of me eating them grants me temporary abilities for a time. As well as their weaknesses which sucks.

So I gotta stay out of the sun for a while after this.

What I didn’t know was this entire time I’d been being watched... By my biological father. Who would have thought I’d be related to Vlad Dracul I mean can you get any closer to Dracula or is that just a last name...

Anyways. He’d ensured Meg made it to safety. I still couldn’t speak I mean maybe I could but barely. I had to force myself to try at least if it came to it.

I didn’t trust him at first and I continued eating... like some lion on the Savannah I had blood all over me my face you could see it glisten in the pale moonlight that shone down on the clearing I decided to dine in as it dripped from my chin The light revealed I wasn’t pitch dark just a very very dark shade of indigo or navy blue that looked almost black.

My tats started to glow red as a warning to stay away.. I growled lowly you know that cool growl that lions do I kinda did that.

I had a complete turn around when I heard these words. “ Incredible..... such power .” Immediately I perked up when I saw these two strange glowy eyes looking at me from the darkest of shadows I bared my bloody teeth ‘Easy my son” He said putting his hand out I mean no harm.

“Son? I hoarsed through this form. My parents were dead at least one of them were anyway. Go away with your preachy bs I thought.

“ Malikor is it?, I only nodded. And returned to gorging. “ I am in awe .” “That’s great?” I thought where was he going with this. He started to come closer and I was getting angrier. Every hair on my body stood on edge like some crazed beast which I kinda was anyway on guard. “ I sensed your power and it brought me here, to you. I was not expecting to find... you... Conceived from a secret a secret I wanted nothing more than to be kept as such and didn’t actually happen. But now that I see you I am glad it did... You are indeed a lost child of mine.

“The fuck? This guy was pulling my leg. But holy fucking hell was he tall

Taller than I had to be at least 6’7 maybe taller. “Your wife is safe..” I... he began..

Could have said that first, before you went on a strange almost senile tangent about some nonsense about being related to you You know something I actually care about. I thought to myself.

As he took a good look at me. I watched him intently. Ready to fight should he challenge me. This could be a diversion.

A distraction. “ Don’t.... feed... me ... bullshit. Stop.... wasting.... my ... time ” I warned... still in this form. Forcing words to escape my throat as I tore off pieces of bloody flesh and continued my feast of shame. I hated when people saw me like this. I mean I don’t have much class but I at least wouldn’t mind my dignity not being disturbed this is kinda gross hell Meg hasn’t even seen me do this

I want to keep it that way. I was starting to lose this form I was growing more and more tired so my snacking on leftovers became more frantic. . He stood there for a moment staring it made it increasingly difficult to continue eating it was almost like he was strangely infatuated with me. So I stopped entirely it was too awkward.

“. I don’t have time for this crap I grumbled.. mad at myself for putting my beloved in so much danger. And being still hungry.

People were fucking nuts here and at that point, I reverted mostly back to my regular self completely but I was in pain for once. And didn’t know what to do.

“You need to rest in a coffin to gain your strength back.” this massive vampire said behind me. “Yeah no, I’ll stick with a comfy bed thanks,” I grumbled.

“I suppose that would work too..” I started to hold my side and walk I was pretty banged up humans naturally can’t really hurt me physically but supernaturals on the other hand, if they got the upper hand, could

... And he was still following me. “Come on man I’m stark naked do you really have to follow me?” Who are you anyway?

“I am Vlad the Impaler.” ‘The what?” I half looked over my shoulder listening to my surroundings.

“ Would you like to search for her in that state on your own without knowing where to start in that state, because I can leave.” He said with an eyebrow half-cocked and a smirk forming across his face

“Ugh...” I rolled my eyes I suppose it can't get any worse. “Alright lead the way.” He ushered me through a rather heavily brushed area

Of course, he did Ow... vile weeds! He took me to a marsh-like area Where I found Meg seated on a rock her dress muddied and torn from running and likely tripping a few times she’d been sniffling. But she was humming a tune to obviously self soothe her self.

She kinda loses it after a bit when she’d been waiting for a while it’s a weird tick she has ...She had a big stick in her hand drawing something in the mud.

Also kind of weird but she was surrounded by fireflies but she glowed it like this pond glowed she looked even more attractive to be honest with this eerie bioluminescent glow highlighting her curvy chubby frame.

The sound of us rustling through the bushes Sent her over the edge she grabbed the stick not that it was going to do anything, and held it like a spear.

“ Who's there? Show yourself!”

EEEK... she took off to hide behind the tree the huge rock was jutting out from getting slightly bogged down in the mud.

“Meg?” I called out to her “ Mal?” Meg peeked around the tree “Is that you?”

“ Are you blind woman?” Meg cautiously approached big stick still in hand, I can’t really blame her I kinda taught her to be wary.

Not every supernatural can be trusted. And it might not have been me. I, however, let my guard down I went to reach down and embrace her and she conked me with this thick stick on the head. Snapping it in the process.

“OW WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! a devilish grin crossed her features that wit I loved so much about her shining through.

“I was just making sure.” She looked up and smiled at me putting her hand on my chest to which I kissed and enclosed my much bigger handover and held closer to my heart. Our deep intense stare was broken by that huge vampire clearing his throat.

“They’ll be looking for you.” It’s best you leave - Just then Meg spoke up and walked up to Vlad showing no fear to him she reached out a tiny hand to shake his hand. Vlad thank you... for keeping me safe. Maybe we’ll come to visit you in Forgotten Hollow.

“I’d ... I’d like that .” He genuinely seemed shocked like someone actually wanted to visit him. And his family. The family I’m apparently related to somehow.

“There is a Tree love, he began in this vale that is a portal to your home world the portal opens at midnight and 3 am Why I don’t know but you and Malikor can get home safely I will remain until I know you have left the area safely I will stand watch. Until then you should rest you, unfortunately, missed the midnight bus.”

“WELL, THAT’S JUST FUCKIN GREAT.” I piped up a few feet away. ‘Do get some rest until then.

Meg found a spot a few feet away from the glowy pond and made a small bed out of dry grass and found her self asleep within minutes having tuckered out quickly from running and she ran for a bit apparently.

And then there was me naked like the day I was born, but I didn’t care at this point I wanted answers.

I didn’t even have to ask he saw me approaching still half staggering feeling weak with this look on my face.

“SPILL IT.” I half yelled while whispering

“ Very well, Though I don’t have much your mother was an alien disguised as a human researching the human race.

Earth plant life and animals and of course us vampires ... But then she discovered a different breed of humans, humans that could use magic that ... he paused and gritted his teeth becoming angry. Can become vampires as well as those who could wield magic it for even darker purposes including... Necromancy.

She wanted to know more, she had to know more, this was an extraordinary find for her aliens had no idea about magic or anything of the sort but it did cost her she’d been tricked about given the opportunity to learn more and became possessed by a succubus summoned by a newbie warlock by mistake which found itself to me.. resulting in you.

“That would explain me being blue.” I half chuckled. Trying to find anything to make this less strange to me.

So what happened to her, my mother?” I asked. “ She is deceased as far as I know.” She had died giving birth to you.... supernaturals aren’t exactly kind on the body that carries them many of them are parasites to the body often depriving them of nutrients from the inside basically eating them alive.

I am not sure of the fate of your other mother.

“Wait I had two moms?” The succubus Malikor that does, in fact, make you half an incubus...or half demon

”Not a bad band either...” I added. We both went quiet. “Then it is true you.... really are my father.”

Before I could ask more questions or even talk some more It didn’t even feel like a few minutes before a bright light came within a trunk of a tree it opened up revealing the hollow we were waiting for It must have been pretty late to begin with. It required me to cross the pond to wake Meg up so we could head on our way.

“That was fast.” I coughed. Standing over Meg.

. I carefully picked her up. Which aroused her. But she huddled into me like the clumsy ass damsel she didn’t want to admit she was. I winced a little “I’m going to feel that tomorrow Oof...”

“ Wh--- wha what’s going on?” She sleeply rasped

“We’re going home that’s what’s going on. I glanced at Vlad before walking through the portal that would take us home...

#LONG POST #pt2 #story

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13-year-old-assassin · 5 years

Text

Holding My Soul Out The Window

“It’s either her or the gun. You’re choice.”

Five continued to grip the gun in his now trembling hands, expression absolutely fuming. How dare Luther? How dare her? He has no idea what Five has been through, what it does to you being alone for that long. Delores was the only thing, the only person there. She was there when he hadn’t eaten for two days and passed out of exhaustion, waking up to bug bites all over his body because the parasites thought he was dead. She had been there when he had eaten that bad twinkie and puked for hours. She had been there, always, when literally no one else was.

And now she was being held in a threatening, not gentle grip by his brother outside of the window. Five’s hands shook on his grip of the gun. It became unsteady in his trembling fingers, matching his unsteady emotions.

But- the apocalypse. That was the only thought that made him not immediately drop the gun. He needed the weapon, he needed to stop the destruction of the world at all costs. It was what he had been working towards for all this time. It had become his obsession, his purpose, his goddamn life.

His thoughts were in turmoil, something that he despised experiencing. But then, then he did it. The sick bastard actually did it.

Luther fucking dropped Delores.

Five, forgetting his entire thought process altogether, dropped the gun immediately. His hands glowed blue, the normal tugging sensation and pinch of nausea settling in his stomach as he jumped towards the window.

But in his panic, in his awful panic, he was only able to jump halfway towards the window. He stumbled for a moment as he landed unsteadily, his moment of mistake settling in his mind, confirming what was going to happen.

His eyes widened and he rushed to the window anyway. It was as if everything turned to slow motion. The wind from outside rushed past his hair as he stuck his head out. Every car was incredibly loud in his ears, inevitably thumping in his brain. And Delores, his Delores, falling towards the hard pavement, was staring up at him. Her beautiful skin was shining in the sun, blocked by a small shadow as Five reached out his hands to grab her, his fingers just brushing the top of her head.

Five screamed, legitimately screamed as Delores fell. As she fell to- to her death. To her painful, gut-wrenching death. Five’s widened eyes stayed trained on his wife, on his absolutely beautiful wife as she got closer to the ground.

And then she hit the walkway, her pale skin shattering into a million pieces on the pavement. And this sound, this awful sound clawed from Five’s throat, choking every ounce of happiness he had felt, every good memory be had experienced in the past 45 years and disintegrating it. The fire rose up to his eyes, blurring his vision and making it go red.

Five heard a faint “oh shit” from behind him as he slowly and menacingly turned to Luther. His fists were clenched, although no blue was coming from them, only an invisible fire. His chest heaved with every erratic breath pumping from his lungs, only growing more frantic as more and more fury pounded into his heart.

Luther noticeably flinched back, taking a small step toward the door and he laid eyes upon the absolute pure fire raging in Five’s eyes.

“Look, Five, I swear that I didn't think she would actually fall-” he was cut off when Five jumped, the feeling of a hand clenching around his throat, cutting off his breath. Five miraculously was pushing him against the wall, holding the stronger man’s body against the dry barrier.

“What the fuck did you think would happen when you dropped her?” Five asked with no real question in his voice. Luther stammered, not knowing how to answer. Five let out a frustrated growl and pushed Luther stronger against the wall. “ANSWER ME!” Five demanded, begging for an excuse, any excuse at this point to explain this horror.

Luther began to run out of breath, his dirty fingernails clawing at the small hands enclosed around his throat. “F-Five, I d-didn’t mean to hurt Delores-”

“Don’t you dare say her name! You had no right!” Five fumed, his face still furious, but the words coming out shaky and drowned in pain. “You- you monster! You had absolutely-” the words were paused when he weakly punched Luther in the chest, “no-” another punch, “right!” He finished with one last punch that instead hit the wall beside Luther, creating a hole through it and bloodying Five’s fist.

“What is going on here?” Allison’s voice shouted as the door was blown open, the rest of the siblings following behind her fast pace.

“We heard a noise, and-” Klaus paused when his eyes landed on the scene before him. “Oh.”

“He killed her!” Five said, his voice cracking on the last word, the new people in the room only being gasoline pouring onto the flames decorating his eyes, turning it to a bonfire.

“What?” Vanya asked, worried and confused. After she got no answer, she asked again, “Five, who did he kill?” From the look of Luther’s state, a sudden urgency surged through her voice.

“Her!” Five shouted helplessly, tears now streaming down his face, struggling to get the word out, begging for them to understand. “He killed Delores!” All the other Hargreeves immediately understood. Well, understood Five’s reaction, but not necessarily the situation or what had happened moments before they had stormed in.

“Five put him down,” Diego said gently with a sigh, walking over to the infuriated boy. He didn’t move, his teeth still clenched. She wasn’t extremely worried about Luther, knowing he was too strong for the choke hold to really do much damage. Maybe frazzle the incompetent bastard, but it wouldn’t hurt him.

“Five.” Vanya stepped forward and said the words in a more serious, yet calm tone, no malice at all. She gently pulled his arms away from Luther. He finally let go with one last push of Luther into the wall, and immediately collapsed into Vanya’s arms, dignity be damned.

“Oh Five, it’s- it’s going to be okay,” she said grasping onto the sobbing boy, her face morphing into one of sadness. She was, of course, surprised, because this was Five. No emotions, no feelings, and definitely no crying Five. Regardless, she held onto him like he was the only thing keeping her alive just because it was Five. She ignored the previous statements from her brother about being a grown man, and she simply allowed herself to see him as a thirteen-year-old boy again.

“She was all I had Vanya, she was all! She- we- we were going- she was always-” he cut his own words off with a choked sob, melting into his sister’s arms. His legs buckled and he fell the floor on his knees, Vanya keeping up her comforting iron grip and falling with him. She looked up to Allison, a rare fierceness and responsibility covering her face.

‘Go,’ she mouthed to Luther, who was standing there in the corner, breathing normally at that point, the chokehold not doing any serious damage obviously. He made a gruff sound, beginning to form words of protest, before Allison grabbed his arm and, like a boss, literally shoved him out into the hallway of the room. His large bulk form stumbled out, and Allison gave one last smile to her sister and a concerned glance to her brother before she closed the door to shout at Luther.

“Sh, sh, it’s okay Five,” Vanya soothed, stroking his hair lovingly. Five’s sobs eventually turned into quiet sniffles, his face still buried into her now drenched shoulder. After a few moments he reluctantly parted his face from her, and with the wave of emotions over, he realized the scene he had just caused.

“Shit, m’ sorry,” he mumbled sluggishly. Diego and Klaus ended up trotting over, both squatting down beside their brother.

“It’s okay short stack, absolutely nothing to be sorry for! This was in no way your fault,” he said softly, the sheen of concern and love returning as he stared at his brother. But Five only noticed the pity, and so he kept his eyes trained on the floor to avoid the shame.

“Can- can I touch you?” Diego asked cautiously, and with the affirmation of Five’s head nod, he grasped on to the boy’s shoulder and heaved him off the floor. Five stumbled, being caught by Diego however, and was soon led to his bed. He collapsed, goddamn collapsed

into the sheets, head hitting the pillow. His exhaustion soon took over.

“But, the apocalypse-” Five mumbled, trying to fight the extremely persuasive lull of sleep.

“Sh, it’s okay Five. We’ll try to make some progress while you’re asleep. You’ll be able to work much better on a freshly rested mind anyway.” The words slipped from Vanya’s mouth in a motherly tone that she didn't really use with anyone, except for Five apparently. It was amazing to her, the side that he brought out of her.

Five shifted under the blankets, mumbling out a very, very soft ‘thank you’ before completely passing out.

Klaus brushed the bangs from his face, Vanya kissed his forehead (thank god he was unconscious or there would have been hell to pay,) and Diego turned out the lights as they walked out of the room quietly.

“Any time,” Vanya said before closing the door.

And here, kids, is a great example of how I can’t end a story to save my fucking life

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sidespromptblog · 5 years

Text

Rage

Summary: There’s always more than one way to skin a cat, or in this case...there’s always more than one way to become heard.

Warning: Intense nightmare, gore, major character deaths (dream), vomiting, and murder.

“It’s about damn time you listened to me.” An ugly sneer lit up Logan’s face as he gripped the tattered ripped remains of Roman’s bright red sash, it had stayed red through everything, it was as red as the blood that was speckled across the lovely creative side’s face like rose petals that had been blown off the stem of its bouquet. “Yes.” That sneer twisted even deeper into Logan’s face, the dark shadows practically etching themselves onto his cheekbones and eyes. “You’re much more useful like this...wouldn’t you agree Creativity?”

The hissing poison of Logan’s words made Roman instinctively want to lean back, the pain of his knees was already killing him at this point and making even the smallest movement would not only hurt even more, but it would bring about Logan’s rage once again. Cracking open his dry bloodied lips, as his tongue sat in his mouth like a damp sponge of lead. Roman’s words were stopped well before they ever started.

As Logan’s finger, pressed harshly against his cracked split lips, one of the cuts oozing a steady flow of blood at the action. “Oh hush hush hush. You don’t need to talk to tell me you understand. A simple nod will do Creativity.” The smile that was stretched across Logan’s face like rubber bands pulled as far as they would physically go made his stomach twist and writhe around inside of him, a hoarse whimper bubbled up from inside of him with little to no warning.

He hadn’t meant to! He hadn’t meant to-

A sharp stinging pain lanced across his face, and the cuts that had dried up once again cracked open like a deep chasm, bringing forth and scattering his blood in droplets all over his shirt that had already been stained to hell and back. The very action of his head snapping backward sent a jolt of pain throughout his body, and it took every shred of willpower inside of him to not scream To not wrench his mouth open and let out a torrent of pained wails that would only bring forth more pain by the very hands of the one that he had once held so dear...that they had all held so dear.

He couldn’t bear to look over to the bodies.

He’d already vomited at the sight of those black painted nails chipped with worry, completely dismembered from the wrist that it belonged to. He’d already wailed with grief at the sight of two perfectly tanned hands cradling a heard while the chest cavity remained empty. He’d wailed, cried, and lamented his loss until he lost his voice, until he had become everything that Logan had wanted him to be.

Silent.

He’d had it coming he supposed, but not Virgil, and never Patton. Their dark spooky storm cloud, and their literal ray of sunshine. Roman deserved all of the pain he could ever receive, for his harsh words, for his biting insults that had left behind figurative scars, and for everything that he couldn’t do. He deserved it all, but never them.

His chest drew in one finally shuddering breath as his eyes darted back up to Logan’s, his glasses were cracked, one lens was completely gone while his hair and just about everything about him looked...messy. Nothing like the punctual, puzzle solving, and jam loving nerd that he had known and loved. The crazed delirious eyes that stared down at him said it all and nothing all at once, but even so…

Those were Logan’s eyes, that warm brown. The brown that resembled the earth after a light rain. This was Logan, this was his Logan surely.

His breathing hitched for a moment, catching on the sob that so desperately wanted to bubble up and tear through his ruined lips. But instead, he reached upwards. Every movement was agony, his torn and stretched muscles reaching almost clawing their way up before he finally managed to wrap his fingers around Logan’s frigid wrist.

“Logan.” His voice was a ghost of a whisper, it cracked once before he licked his lips. That action in itself hurt as the cuts lining his lips stung like hell, but it didn’t stop him as Logan attempted to rear back only held by Roman’s pathetic grip. “Logan..Logan...Logan…” His chest reeled and heaved as the world blurred before him, the only thing that he could even say made him sound like a broken record as he messily repeated Logan’s name over and over again before his very voice disappeared into harsh ragged sobs that left him gasping for air. His entire body burned with a raw unbridled pain, even more so as he felt fingers as cold as ice run through his short choppy hair.

It was a tender movement, at least until he felt those fingers grasp it tight, wrenching his head upwards so that he could look back into those eyes.

Those eyes…

Another sob shuddered Roman’s breath, but it lasted no more than a second as something cold and metal pressed against his lips silencing him in a hurry.

“That,” Logan leaned in close, his breath smelled of death and decay. Roman almost gagged at the stench, “Is not my name Creativity...I am..” The blade of the knife sliced through Roman’s once perfect lips, and now not only was he gagging and choking on the awful smell but his own blood as well. The tip of the knife trailed gingerly down to Roman’s throat, and the last thing he saw before the end, was those warm brown eyes.

The eyes of a murderer.

“Rage.”

Jerking up from his place on the couch, a sharp unfiltered scream wormed its way out of Logan’s throat. His fingers scrambled furiously across the floor as his glasses fell from where they had been resting on his chest during his nap, grabbing for them felt akin to playing one of the claw games that Thomas was so fond of. As he grabbed them only for his thick black frame to fall from his limp fingers multiple time. His chest heaved up and down as he let his glasses fall one final time, this time he didn’t even attempt to pick them up this time.

Not as he heard the hurried thumping of feet trampling down the hallways, it all felt so fast and yet so very slow as the nauseating feeling churned within Logan’s stomach.

Rage. Rage…

The word cycled around in his head as the sickening feeling crawled up his throat like some demented spider, that’s what he had given into, wasn’t it? When he’d thrown his crumpled up note card at Roman’s head in a fit of pass- no not passion. Whatever he had felt in that moment had most certainly not been passion, it had been..it had been rage. Rage was what had made him lash out like a wild animal, it had made him look insane to the others it had..it had hurt someone he cared for.

This’ll happen again. The realization was a sudden but no less terrifying one as he sat their numbly, horror reflecting in his wide open eyes. When I feel too much..it’ll happen again, it’ll happen and it might not be a simple note card next time. When it happens I could..I could-

His gut churned again, and this time it was more than a simple feeling crawling up his throat, as the images, the nightmare, the memories all rolled around in his head. The bottoms of his feet scraped against the carpeted ground, Logan barely even heard the shouts and cries of his name as he darted away like some wild animal. He knew the layout of the mindspace, and as such it was all too easy to slam his shoulder into the bathroom door, knocking it open before he dove for the toilet.

The contents of his stomach spilled out all too easily, and the burning of his throat with each retch was only matched by the burning in his eyes. As cool tears trickled down his face, dripping onto the pale porcelain of the toilet seat. Every heave his body gave felt like a scream ripping itself out of his body, leaving behind an empty gaping wound behind as it did. It didn’t stop the tears from coming, and it didn’t stop the barren sobs that wrenched open his lungs forcing his terrified wails to ring around the bathroom.

He couldn’t stop them, he couldn’t stop them so much as he could stop the others from peeking into the bathroom Worry lit in all of their eyes.

“Logan?” It was Patton who spoke up first, Patton who’d heart he had carved out of his chest laying it within his own hands. Rage..Rage..Rage… “Logan sweetie, are you alright?” He wanted nothing more than to fall victim to those hands that reached out to comfort him, but even so, he couldn’t help but to flinch away from them the very moment that Patton laid them on his back rubbing it every so gently.

He didn’t deserve Patton.

“I..” Virgil paused at the doorway, his own frantic gaze taking in everything. But most of all the tears that drenched Logan’s cheeks, the guilt as well as the sorrow that was bubbling over in his eyes. So much of it in fact, that Logan had made himself sick over it, “I’ll go and get some tissues..and ginger ale.” He finally muttered, Patton could handle this for now, but later on, he’d crawl into Logan’s bed in the dead of night and hold him close. He wouldn’t ask questions, if anything he’d wait to be told.

Even so, his departure was a quick one leaving behind Roman.

Roman’s who’s fingers twisted his sash in pure concern and distress as Logan rested his cheek on the rim of the toilet, his body shuddering with each sniffle as the moral side continued to just rub his back again and again. He’d never seen Logan like this, he’d never seen him this out of sorts and well...it scared him. It twisted his heart just as his fingers twisted the smooth fabric of his bright red scarf. He honestly didn’t know what to do, he was the prince, the one who was supposed to come to people’s aid and he didn’t know what to do when the person he cared so deeply for was hurting like this. He needed to do something, he knew that much for certain.

So he didn’t hesitate as he stepped into the small space of the bathroom, fixing a smile onto his face however fake it may be. “Heya Specs, do you-”

The reaction to his voice was almost immediate, almost as if he had been slapped upside the head. Logan jerked his body away from the toilet and Patton as well as he shied away from the both of them, the look in his eyes..it was terrifying. It was the look of someone who’d seen the worst possible monster imaginable and was being forced to stare right back at it.

“Please,” Logan’s voice came out harsh and whistly, so much so that Roman couldn’t help but to wince. “Please don’t come near me..I don’t..I..I..” Horror dawned upon both Roman and Patton at the sight of the tears welling back up in the logical side’s eyes, out of everything they had ever wanted from Logan. Tears were most certainly not it.

“Hey hey hey.” Roman softly whispered, crouching down to Logan’s height almost immediately. “Everything’s fine, from the looks of it you just had an awful nightmare buddy. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Glancing over to Patton, the moral side bobbed his head in agreement. Although the movement looked all too jerky and uncoordinated to be anything but nervous and jittery. The rushed footsteps down the hall and the flash of purple let them all know that not only had Virgil returned, but he had heard it all as well.

However, despite it all, despite Roman soothing words. Logan’s head jerked stiffly from side to side.

“No,” He croaked out once again, and for a moment none of them understood. “I don’t..I don’t want to hurt you again. I need..I need to…” Logan’s throat burned both with tears and the harshness of his earlier actions. What he was to say would be absolutely true, whether the three before him knew it or not. They would disagree, but it hardly mattered. He was doing this for their benefit, even if he didn’t like it so much himself. “I need to remove myself from the equation before, I can never allow that to ever happen again.”

A loud clatter answered his words, as the can of soda fell limply from Virgil’s hands, a look of pure terror dawning on his face. “No!” He barked out his voice distorting and warbling, breaking the thin silence that had stretched between them for just a moment after his proclamation. “Logan no!” Virgil sounded downright desperate, as he stalked forward eventually coming to his knees before he crawled towards Logan.

Just to come to a sudden halt the second that Logan, scrambled back away from him until his back touched the bathtub.

Roman felt his heart drop to his stomach as Patton’s expression crumpled like a paper bag in the rain. They all looked horrified, everyone but Logan that was. “Virgil’s right Logan,” The creative side found the words pouring from his lips as he moved closer bit by bit, his chest twisted and ached the more he noticed Logan sullen but resigned expression. Logan was ready to go through with this, he was ready to commit to it, even if none of them wanted him to. “Logan,” Roman reached his hand out for a moment, noting for a moment how Logan’s eyes darted down to the bright redness of his sash. “Logan look at me, I know what you did was..not intended. I..You are not a bad person, you felt guilty after hitting me with that notecard, and I know..we all know that you meant no real harm to me. So please..please…”

“Don’t do this,” Patton spoke up for the first time since Logan had scurried away from all of them, his broken-hearted whisper said a lot, but more than anything it trembled with fear. “Please Logan, we can’t be us without you. I don’t..I don’t want to be me without you. Please just..don’t think that you have to do this..you don’t…”

It hurt like hell to swallow, although Logan supposed that he deserved that as he gripped his knees all the more tighter. For a long moment, he couldn’t bring himself to meet the others’ eyes, he couldn’t look at them. He couldn’t look and be reminded of how he just might hurt them if he snapped again, but in the end, he did. His cracked his lips opened, and for a split second nothing came out. At least until his bottom lip quivered, more tears were welling up, but even now he could tell that these were a different kind of tears.

At least they felt different to him.

He sniffled, before rubbing his hand over his eyes clearing away the mess of his tears. “I’m scared,” Logan finally croaked out, his gaze shifting from Roman to Patton, before finally settling to Virgil. “And lost...help me.”

Understanding finally seemed to bloom on their faces, as they all encircled him. Their warmth wrapped around him, the smell of Roman’s shampoo in his nose, the feeling of Patton’s cotton cardigan against his cheek, and the sensation of Virgil clinging to his side. “Of course,” They whispered, each uniquely different in how they said it, but it still stood to be the same.

He wasn’t alone, he could and would learn, he wouldn’t snap again, and...he had help.

#logan sanders #logic sanders #evil!Logan #Rage!Logan #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #tw gore #tw death #tw vomiting #tw murder

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lizardrosen · 5 years

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Andrew Scott Hamlet (2017)

I'm finally watching the Andrew Scott Hamlet and it's so good!

This post is mostly a liveblog I did on twitter, but edited for reading clarity, and with a few notes I took that I didn’t talk about in my posts.

the watchtower scene is in a security guard room filled with screens, and the ghost makes the camera short out

Andrew Scott is just. a perfect hamlet - AUGH, his bitter laugh at “unmanly grief”. He stays inside while everyone else is dancing on the balcony outside, and sits on his suitcase in the dark. He’s a good sad boy.

and he's FRIENDS with both laertes and ophelia - he and laertes share a genuinely friendly hug before laertes leaves, and then it’s so clear how much ophelia and hamet care for each other, and she holds him as he cries, and cheers him up.

Polonius is a Good Dad, and while most of his advice is stuff he's said hundreds of times before, "this above all..." isn't rehearsed, he really just wants to say what he means to a child he loves dearly

oh cool, i'm loving how they rearranged and merged the scenes here!

Hamlet's "too too solid flesh" merges into him kissing ophelia and hiding behind the couch while laertes and polonius tell her not to trust him, and then he speaks with horatio, and they just miss r&g - he hasn't gone to see the ghost yet, so he hasn't put on an antic disposition, which means claudius was already planning to keep him in line before he gave any cause for it, and I just love how shifting a few scenes changes everything so dramatically.

Hamlet and the ghost: - horatio is so frantic for his friend's safety! but then Hamlet runs to find the ghost anyway. hamlet reaches out hesitantly to touch his father's face and they CLING to each other, then "pity me not." the ghost speaks of his death super fast, as if afraid to dwell on it, then slows as he charges hamlet "taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul proceed against thy mother." But then two minutes after being told not to blame his mother Hamlet goes "o pernicious woman" he's not very good at following directions. and then, poor baby, he picks up the gun and uses it to follow claudius as he walks down a hallway on the security footage.

a very well structured scene!

polonius gave laertes a watch as a parting gift, and then after hamlet makes horatio and marcellus swear, he gets engrossed by his own watch in a way that feels dangerous, and then goes "the time is out of joint" this is a GOOD parallel and i hope it comes up again because DAMN!

Up to Me, by Bob Dylan is just. the perfect song for the transition to act two, i can't handle how well it works with the action on stage - hamlet walking off sadly, then claudius and gertrude being flirty and cute, then hamlet kissing ophelia in the bath and perusing her face

Oh man, Polonius forgetting what he has to say when speaking to Reynaldo is a moment of such stillness and silence that it’s one of the most tense and compelling things I’ve every seen. I was half convinced he was going to have a stroke right there, or that his heart would be what actually killed him in the closet scene later.

When Ophelia tells him about Hamlet charging into her room, he’s super wrong, of course, but he cares for his dauther truly. She deflates when he says “the very ecstasy of love” though, because it’s clear she won’t get any real help there.

ooh, they put To Be or Not to Be before polonius talks to him, not before the nunnery scene. interesting! It’s a fairly common visual trope for Hamlet to be barefoot at around this point in the play, but it’s always fun to see.

Polonius has a mic on him so Claudius and Gertrude can hear their conversation, and all of his asides are whispered into it, a fact Hamlet clearly KNOWS, because “Except my life” is said while mockingly lifting the collar of his teeshirt and whispering into it.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are perfect here, omg!!! Guil is a black woman, and Ros a tallish man, and you can tell all three were good friends. when Guil finally has to say "my lord, we were sent for" you can see on both their faces that this play just became a TRAGEDY. "o what a piece of work is man" isn't a show this hamlet is putting on, he's baring his soul, and ros and guil are literally CRYING for and with him, because they can clearly see how he’s changed. but because they know they have split loyalties they can't come closer to him to comfort him. poor babies! rosencrantz is very proud that he was able to save them by bringing up the Players, and behind hamlet's back, guildenstern mouths "tragedians" and gives him an approving nod when he gets it right. i love them so much, and they're up there with gary oldman and tim roth!

The Player is the same actor as King Hamlet, I’ve never seen that specific double casting, but it’s so perfect! Poor Hamlet trying his best to remember his speech — he’s trying his best and the actual players are very patient with him.

the middle of "O what a rogue and peasant slave" is the first moment when you can visibly see Hamlet lose it, instead of sinking into depression or twisting his own and other's words like he had been up to now, but then he pulls back suddenly and goes "why what an ass am I"

"He asked no questions, and was of our demands most free in his reply." ROSENCRANTZ, you LIAR! 27-3 and you think he might have had the edge?? But as he says this he puts his hand on Guil's shoulder to make sure she'll also keep to that story.

hey ouch, this was one of the most painful nunnery scenes i've ever seen! she's all dressed up for him, but so scared, but she rolls her eyes at the book Polonius has her read. they get a few moments to be cute together before they break up for good and they're just crying, and they KNOW they're being watched. then he laughs at the favors and just drops them on the ground before he walks away, and after she gathers them up and starts to go, he comes in through a different door to kiss her violently and throw water on her face, and everything just HURTS. (the water has a daisy in it!)

Polonius briefly checks that she’s okay but then goes back to talking to Claudius about sending Hamlet to England. Meanwhile, in the background, she’s become fascinated by the daisy. She flinches away from everyone’s touch and stares at nothing, and I really like the clear progression in her, that her later breakdown isn’t just a reaction to one single shocking event, it’s all the slings and arrows that have been aimed at her throughout the play and her whole life.

ALERT, ALERT, HE'S PLAYING WITH HIS WATCH WHILE HE TELLS HORATIO HOW MUCH HE LOVES HIM!!!

(he also says Horatio is "not a pipe for fortune's finger to sound what stops you please," which is a line that's often left out, so i'd forgotten that metaphor was already on his mind)

the rest of the court enters through the auditorium, and sit in the front row to watch the show! and i only just now realized that when hamlet says "and my father died within these two hours" he's speaking ~madness~ but ALSO talking about the length of the play he's in.

The dumbshow is to the tune of One Too Many Mornings by Bob Dylan again, and shows papa hamlet's gonzago’s entire courtship with his wife, and them raising hamlet together and seeing him off to college, which then leads directly into the dialogue part of the play! it's SO GOOD.

The Lucianus monologue is very good, and then Claudius just walks out grimly, and it's presumably the intermission bc the screen goes staticky.

there's been a conceit of a camera following characters around and the image shows up on two sets of screens above the stage, so we get to see the play within the play AND hamlet et al's reaction to it at the same time.

Hamlet talks very fast and impatiently to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern as they try to tell him to visit his mother, and they’re trying SO HARD to connect with him. Interesting that the “My lord, you once did love me” line is given to Guildenstern, but it makes sense for how these characters have been played so far. I’m not at all worried that they did that to make the play straighter, because they do not shy away from the homoerotic subtext. And he pauses and really seems to think about his answer before saying “I do still, by these pickers and stealers.” And the recorder scene is just sad on both sides, everything is SAD

oh DAMN, claudius watches hamlet come into the room with a gun and then does his "O my offense is rank, it smells to heaven" speech, and seems to forget his audience as he tries to pray, and right after hamlet decides not to kill him yet, he stands and smirks and tells him "words without thoughts never to heaven go" and stands with his arms open, DARING hamlet to actually kill him. the last thing we see is his fingers trying to get a grip on the handle, and then a blackout.

if you don't know this play you might think he does it now.

when ros & guil find him he's wiping his bloody hands on polonius's shirt, and during the sponge bit he wrings it out so it drips on the floor. andrew scott is so gooood at this role but also legitimately scary.

and he's been playing with his watch more and more as everything gets more dire, i love this detail a whole bunch.

after hamlet calls claudius his mother, he hugs him and claudius reluctantly returns the embrace. for a brief moment hamlet seems to be seeking comfort here, and then he sniffles and breaks away. "To England" he says as he goes, mocking the accent.

so. ophelia. she's wheeled in strapped into a wheelchair, presumably at a psych facility. mostly she's turned inwards and singing softly, except when she hits her head and screams as if to say "you hurt me and ignored me, but you can't ignore the hurt you make me do to myself." and like. i get it, and i'm mostly glad that it's not the same version of mad ophelia you tend to see, where she's all over the stage and ripping her clothes, but still. it feels icky and ableist and like. fear tactics? shock factor? something like that.

laertes comes in looking truly unhinged -- actually gets gertrude kneeling on the ground with a gun at her temple, before claudius calms him down, and he's jumpy in a way that mirrors hamlet right after killing polonius. poor horatio is the first to come in and gets a gun pointed at him for his it. no one deserves any of what’s happening to them!

but laertes stills entirely when he sees ophelia. ouch.

flowers!

rosemary - the nurse who wheeled her chair

pansies - claudius

fennel and columbine - claudius's security guard

rue - gertrude

she drops the daisy on the ground and turns to laertes to apologize about the violets.

when claudius goes "where the offense is, let the great axe fall" gertrude looks at him sharply because THAT wasn't part of the plan, and he brushes her off with "I pray you"

the Bad Quarto scene with her and horatio is in here, and makes a LOT of sense given that interaction.

gertrude is in the doorway, unseen, as claudius tells laertes the only reason hamlet's not dead is because gertrude loves him so much. and then she's CLEARLY watching for his response when the messenger tells him about the letters from hamlet. i like this gertrude a lot.

(and I’m pretty sure I saw Hamlet being a sneaky boy and passing behind the window right by Claudius, as Claudius is handed his letters)

ooh, hamlet's wearing white and khaki when he comes back from the pirates, and he seems much calmer than he did the last time we saw him.

and laertes is so lost and sad when he says "what ceremony else?"

they're such good foils for each other, i can't stand it!

hamlet seems amazed as he asks "what is he, whose grief bears such an emphasis" and he's not angry when he climbs into the grave, more like he's expecting to be welcomed with open arms, and then he's just surprised when laertes tries to strangle him. when he says “yet have I in me something dangerous” he’s trying so hard to convince himself of this, oh kiddo.

welp, hamlet is no longer calm, as he screams about how much he loved ophelia, and writhes around on the ground. then he stands up like nothing happened and says "what is the reason you use me such?" and sounds so hurt.

some hamlets did not date laertes, but this one SUPER did

Hamlet feels bad about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, but moves on quickly because he feels worse about Laertes, and it’s so painfully clear that he knows what genre he’s in. Osric is just a security guard (and later the judge for the fencing match) with no noticeable character but that works really well for this production, and Laertes has enough going on without having a boyfriend.

“Hamlet does it not… his madness” isn’t him giving up empty excuses, but real sorrow and despair, and maybe he really does believe he briefly became another person. I’m ! So ! Sad ! and oh SHIT, when laertes says "this one's too heavy" here, it's NOT to make sure he gets the poisoned blade but because he was moved by hamlet's apology and is BEGGING claudius to let him off the hook of needing to kill his friend, but claudius shakes his head and so they play.

HEY WOW RUDE!!! the music during the fencing match is Not Dark Yet (also by Bob Dylan) and everything HURTS

laertes FLINCHES and runs forward too late to stop claudius from putting in the poisoned pearl, and then he does his best to fight badly, and i'm going to CRY. hamlet's about to drink when gertrude runs forward with her napkin, then claudius grabs the cup from her and she maintains eye contact and they clasp hands as she drinks. she turns her choke into a laugh, while in the background laertes offers claudius preemptive sympathy. but everything is drawing to a close so he has to commit to hitting Hamlet, no matter his reservations.

the music stops as soon as hamlet is struck, and the brightness of the fencing match returns to the darkness of Act Two, but one by one they rise as ghosts, hand their watches over to King Hamlet, and go into the party upstage. And Laertes and Hamlet exchange forgiveness! it's a soft hopeful darkness though, something horatio wishes to be welcomed into, but hamlet tells him to "absent thee from felicity awhile" and he agrees.

hamlet gets scared for "the rest is silence" then it all snaps back to real time while he convulses in horatio's arms.

The play closes as it opens: with a bunch of news stories about the death of danish royalty.

And the closing credits are One More Cup of Coffee by Bob Dylan, it's so good!

#hamlet #recap #horatio #ophelia #laertes #polonius #claudius #gertrude #death mention #guns cw #this was a really good play!

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trashunlimited · 6 years

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oh god, sorry this took a while. but it’s finally here :).

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

tagging: @nightshade1994, @glampyra

Pyri was sitting alone in her room, all of her former subjects had already been sent off, all her planets given away, now she was the only one left.

She removed her headdress, which bore the colours of the first emperor, the main part was red like his skin, and the top piece was gold like his eyes. Funnily enough, Pyri also had red skin and golden eyes, perhaps being the last empress was her fate from birth.

Pyri simply put the headdress aside, and sat alone in the darkness, overlooking her now abandoned planet.

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

Rick had came over to visit Julie, just to spend time with her. The two of them were relaxing and playing on a console Julie owned, while munching on wafer cookies. Julie was actually surprised she was able to play her old games again, but was actually quite relieved, relishing in the simplicity of Pong, watching as what looked like two glow sticks were hitting a white ball.

As they played together, they heard and knock at the door, and Julie got up and went over to answer it; when she did, she was greeted by Mark and Vivian.

“Hello you two! Come inside!” She invited gleefully.

Mark and Vivian poked their heads in, where they saw Rick, still holding onto the controller and giving them both a death stare. Mark chuckled nervously and looked over at Julie again, while Vivian glared back for a moment and looked at Julie too.

“Rick..doesn't seem to happy to see us…” Mark muttered.

“Don't worry about it,” She assured him. “Just come inside.”

Mark was a bit hesitant, but stepped inside anyways, and Vivian followed.

“What do you guys think we should do?” Julie asked. “Rick and I were just playing Pong, but I'm not sure if there's enough controllers for the four of us…”

Mark stroked the stray hairs on his chin and thought for a moment. “What about...Monopoly?”

Before anyone could respond, a loud crash was heard outside, making Rick put the controller down and stand up. “It's him..” He uttered.

“Who?” Vivian questioned.

“The...the alien that...that kidnapped me..” Julie replied.

Mark and Vivian were both shocked. “What?”

When they all headed outside, they saw a blue hand punch it’s way out of the ship, before getting out and revealing the hand was Cyn’s, his face was contorted in rage.

He pointed at Rick. “You! You took everything from me! And now I’m going to make you wish you never took that chunk!”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Cyn was enraged further that Rick wasn’t taking him seriously, and began shooting at him, but Rick managed to dodge all the bullets.

Mark, Vivian and Julie watched as the two fought each other. Julie had her hands clasped together nervously, hoping Rick would be okay, while Vivian looked baffled and Mark was watching excitedly, he couldn't believe he was really seeing an alien!

Vivian turned her gaze over to Mark, and was shocked and confused by his reaction. “How are you getting excited by this?” She asked.

“How are you not?’’ He retorted. Vivian just grumbled, blushing.

Julie put her hands against her face, not listening to Mark and Vivian, her focus was entirely on Rick. “Please be okay...I love you..” She whispered.

Rick knocked Cyn’s gun away, and pulled out one of his own. Cyn gazed at it. “Is that gonna instantly kill me or something?”

Rick smirked. “Where’s the fun in t-that?” He then proceeded to hit Cyn in the face with the gun, knocking him down. Before Cyn could get up, Rick held him down and placed a gun against his forehead.

Before Rick could shoot, Cyn got a devious idea. He knew Rick had a weak spot for Julie and used this to his advantage. “Don’t you think by doing this, you might scare Julie?” He asked.

Rick’s eyes widened. “W-What?”

“Well let's think, you hit me in the face,knocking me down! And now you're going to shoot me. You're going to kill someone right in front of her. How do you think she feels?”

Rick pulled the gun away. “J-Julie k-k-knows I d-do this..” He mumbled defensively.

“But in front of her? Have you ever done that?” Cyn asked again.

“I m-m-mean...yeah…”

“Was she even looking like she is right now?”

“Well no..but..”

“I guess this means you’ve never killed someone right in front of her eyes. Like I said, you might scare her by doing this.” Cyn smirked. “Then she might be scared of you.”

Rick stopped looking so angry, he looked more like a sad puppy. “B-But I..”

Seeing the opportunity, Cyn grabbed the gun away from Rick and shot him below the stomach. He fell to the ground, and Julie immediately ran after him. “Rick!” She cried out and embraced him, placing a hand over his bullet wound.

“Julie get back here!” Vivian called out.

However, Julie didn't care. She didn't care if Cyn shot her too, she just had to be there for Rick.

Cyn walked up to them, snarling. “Why are you even bothering to protect him! He’s the villain here, not me. Sanchez is a monster, and I’m surprised you haven’t realized it yet.”

Julie suddenly got angry and defensive, she had enough of Cyn and him chasing after her and Rick. “Rick isn't the monster here Cyn, its you!” She yelled. Everyone was shocked at her boldness, except for Rick, who weakly smiled and rested his head against Julie’s chest.

“How is he not the monster here? He is one of the most dangerous and wanted criminals in the entire galaxy! Do you know how many people he has killed? Too many to count! His music is garbage too.” Cyn growled.

“If he really was a monster, he wouldn't love me. But he does, and I love him too.” She declared.

“Ha!” Cyn laughed mockingly. “You really think that monster is capable of any love? You must be joking!” He grabbed onto Julie’s arm tightly and pulled her away from Rick. “You are such an idiot! Just let him die! It'll do the galaxy a favour!”

In retaliation towards Cyn, Mark grabbed onto a large rock and hit him on the head with it, knocking him to the ground and freeing Julie from his grasp. Angered, Cyn pulled out a taser-like object and shocked Mark with it, causing him to fall on the ground. “Mark!” Vivian screamed and ran towards him.

“Vivian…” He smiled weakly. “You do care..”

Vivian blushed. “Now isn't the best time Mark..” But he just laughed.

Cyn was fed up. He had to weaken Julie too in order to kill Rick. She’d gotten back to Rick, who was starting to regain his strength, and wrapped her arms around him, her face showing her worry.

He grabbed her again, causing Julie to reach out for Rick desperately, who reached back. “Let me go!” She fussed and squirmed about. Cyn was growing frustrated, and so he hit Julie hard on her head, making her fall down and lie motionless on the ground.

Vivian shook Mark and pointed to where Julie was, and they both ran over to her, checking her injury.

As for Rick, the moment Cyn knocked her down, he screamed her name out in desperation, and believed she was dead when he saw her lying down without moving. He regained his strength, and pulled out his gun again. Consumed with grief and a now murderous rage, Rick attacked Cyn and starting beating and shooting at him, tears streaming down his face the whole time.

Mark and Vivian watched in shock, and Vivian checked Julie’s heartbeat. “Julie has a heartbeat..it's just a little faint. She's just unconscious..” She concluded. Mark nodded and placed a hand over Julie’s wound to prevent further bleeding.

Rick was unaware of Julie still being alive, and was locked in anger. When he managed to calm down enough, Cyn was nothing but a bloody and mangled body. He swung his gun around, unable to do anything but cry. When he finished swinging, he dropped the gun and sat down on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

Vivian sighed and walked up towards him. “She's still alive Rick..she has a heartbeat.”

Rick removed his hands from his face and stared at her. “S-she..she d-d-does..?” He sniffled.

He got up, and followed Vivian over to where Julie was, and shoved Mark out of the way, who’d been holding onto Julie. Rick held her close, and pressed his head against her chest, where he could hear her heartbeat. His tears of sadness turned into tears of joy, and he put his head up against her cheek, still sobbing happily.

Mark and Vivian watched them, before looking at each other, and smiled. Rick may have literally just killed someone right in front of them but at least...he showed how much he cared for and loved Julie.

-----------

Rick dissolved Cyn’s body, and then carried Julie bridal-style to her room, and laid her on her bed. Using her first aid kit, he grabbed bandages and wrapped one around the wound on her head. Mark and Vivian had wanted to stay, but he angrily made them leave and said he’d take care of Julie himself. Vivian was annoyed, but begrudgingly agreed to it along with Mark. They’d asked him to call and let them know when she’d recovered, but Rick didn’t give a shit about them, his only concern was for Julie.

He put a chair beside her bed and sat down on it. Rick figured that in the meantime, he’d remove the bullet still in his body. He’d much rather have Julie do it, but she was still unconscious, and he’d done this plenty of times before without trouble.

It had been painful as always, but in his mind, he really didn’t care, it hurt more to see Julie like she was now.

After getting shot by Cyn, Rick had felt so out of it, but whenever Julie was near him, he instantly felt better, and far more relaxed. Then he’d seen Cyn hit her, and knock her unconscious. In his hazy state, he’d thought Cyn had killed her and immediately retaliated, killing him right back. The relief he felt when he found she was actually alive was unimaginable.

Rick wouldn’t know what to do if he really did lose Julie, and he swore to himself then and there that he would do everything in his power to protect her from harm. He would never let anyone take her away from him.

Since Julie still hadn’t woken up, Rick remained sitting on the chair, until he accidentally fell asleep.

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

Julie's eyes fluttered open, and she instantly felt pain in her head, and put her hand on it, only to realize it was covered by a bandage. She tried to think about why she was like this, and remembered the fight with Cyn, her last memory before blacking out was seeing Cyn glaring at her angrily, a fist raised in the air. Julie knew he must've hit her, and the punch had been strong enough to not only give her a headache, but render her unconscious. She sighed, at least she had some medication to relieve the pain that she could take.

Turning her head to look beside her, Julie saw Rick sitting on a chair next to her bed, fast asleep. Her heart fluttered, knowing he'd put the chair there so he could watch over her. Sure he'd fallen asleep, but still...it showed he cared. She also noticed blood on his clothes, and wondered what happened.

Julie got closer to him, and shook him a little, making him wake up.

“Guh..huh? Julie..” Rick muttered out sleepily.

She giggled and shook him more. “Rick it's me, Julie.”

His eyes instantly snapped open and he started looking panicked. “Julie!”

She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him. “Rick, I'm here, it's okay..”

He looked back down at her, his heavy breathing beginning to steady. “Julie?” Then, a smile formed on his face and he hugged her. “Y-Y-You're okay…”

She hugged him back, before pulling away and gazing at him again. “What happened? Where's Mark and Vivian? Why are you covered in blood?”

“Well..” Rick hesitated for a moment. “I-I thought...I th-thought that when Cyn had knocked you unconscious, he'd actually killed you. I w-was so angry and grief-stricken that I-I-I...k-k-killed him back. Vivian revealed you were still alive, so I took you back inside and..”

“Were you the one that put the bandages on me?” Julie asked.

Rick blushed shyly. “Y-Yea...that was m-me...I told Mark and Vivian I'd look after you and made them leave. I took the bullet Cyn had shot me with out by myself, and then waited for you to wake up.”

Julie gasped. “You...you took the bullet out by yourself? Why?”

He shrugged. “You weren’t up yet. Plus, I’ve done this myself before, it’s not a big deal.”

“But it is a big deal! It’s dangerous!” She panicked. “Don’t ever do something like that again!”

Rick laughed at this, but it faded when he saw her hold onto her head in pain. “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah...I’m okay..” She smiled.

Rick smiled back and cupped her cheeks with his hands, before leaning in and kissing her forehead. Afterwards, he got off the chair and sat on the bed beside her, holding her gently in his arms. Rick’s happiness was there, but briefly, his expression faltered, and Julie took notice of it. “What’s wrong Ricardo?” She asked.

He sighed. “He was right you know, I’m a m-monster.”

“That’s not true..”

“Don’t defend me Julie, it’s not worth it. I’m not a good person, you should know that.” He then clenched his fists together angrily. “I’ve done terrible, irredeemable things in my life, so don’t even bother.” Rick snarled.

Julie was silent for a moment, before kissing him on the lips, and watching how shocked he was by it. “W-Wha..huh?” Rick asked.

“You’re not as bad as you think you are.” She assured him. “You’re always there for me when I’m upset, you protect me and look out for me, and need I remind you of when you nearly sacrificed your life for me?”

Well, Rick had to admit, she did have a point there. “I-I mean...I g-g-guess...but I’ve still done a lot of awful things t-too. Don’t you even care?”

“The good outweighs the bad for me.” She admitted. “I love you, nothing is going to change that.”

He was stunned, his mind felt a blur, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. “I don’t understand...is there nothing that would make you stop loving me?”

Julie shook her head. “I will never stop loving you, no matter what.”

Rick severely doubted this, but he was grateful nonetheless. She always was there for him, no matter what, and he felt unworthy of her love. They were as different as night and day, she was an angel and he was a demon. He never felt like he deserved even an ounce of her kindness, it was like she was wasting it on him. Regardless of how much of a terrible person he really was, she loved him anyways, and it was baffling in his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if he could ever deem himself worthy of her love. He didn't think that was possible though.

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

After taking some pills to deal with her headache, Julie called Mark and Vivian to let them know she was okay, and they both seemed relieved. She thought it was best not to mention Rick hadn’t cared to initially tell them when she had recovered, knowing what Vivian’s reaction would be.

With that out of the way, Julie just decided the best thing to do now was relax. When she saw Rick come down the stairs to see her, she smiled. There was no Cyn, there was no Fyralogin Empire, they weren’t on Glorf anymore, it was just the two of them together, and she saw a bright future between them.

i have this tendency to keep making julie constantly suffer, and it’s not going to get any better.

by the way, chapter 14 will be the last chapter of the main story. chapters 15 and 16 are still necessary though, and are more narrative chapters. the final chapter, chapter 17 is an epilogue.

by the way, julie’s line “I will never stop loving you, no matter what.” is going to be very significant, maybe you can guess why.

#my writing #rick and julie

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humansunshineao3 · 6 years

Text

New Eyes - A Mundane Soulmate AU [ii]

[Sequel to this]

“Harder, Magnus.”

“Are you sure?” Magnus panted, arms bulging.

Clary glared at him over her shoulder. “Which one of us actually has to wear the corset?”

“Which one of us has to catch the other if she passes out at the altar?” He asked breathlessly, shaking his head. “You already have a tiny waist. Besides, you’ll have to eat at the reception.”

“Fine,” Clary huffed, straightening up as Magnus tied the strings of her dress. “Where did you learn to lace a corset, anyway?”

Magnus smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “I had a burlesque phase in college.”

“Of course you did,” Clary snorted, shaking her head. Once Magnus was done, she turned around, smoothing down the pristine white shirt of her wedding gown. “How do I look?”

Upon seeing her fully done up and laced into the dress, Magnus had to take a moment, his hand pressed to his chest. “You look beautiful, biscuit,” he told her, a knot in his throat. “Your Mom would have been so proud to see you like this.”

Clary sniffed, nodding. “She’s always with me. With both of us.”

Magnus squeezed her hands, and pulled her into a hug. It had been almost five years since Jocelyn died and left her firm to Magnus. Clary was only eighteen, barely finished high school, and she’d spent hours sitting in her Mom’s old office where Magnus now worked, the two of them grieving side by side even as Magnus struggled to keep the business running. Clary had had Luke, her stepfather, to keep her company, but Magnus had had no-one, so they’d taken him under their wing. Clary had eventually learned enough about the business from watching Magnus that she took up a position as a secretary, and though she didn’t know it yet, Magnus had fixed his will to make sure that Clary would receive the whole business if anything were to happen to him. With a few more sniffles from the both of them, they broke apart, both turning to look in the mirror to check their eyeliner.

“Let’s go and get you married, kid.” Magnus smiled, offering her his arm.

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

“I can’t believe I would have missed out on the colour of this suit if I hadn’t met Magnus before today. You’ve really been dressing me this well all these years and I didn’t even realise…” Alec marvelled, brushing some lint off the breast off his jacket. It was a dark, warm forest green, and he knew it complimented Magnus’ maroon suit perfectly, because Magnus had insisted they compare colour swatches weeks in advance.

“You owe me too much,” Izzy sighed dramatically, standing next to him in the mirror. “I gave you the illusion of fashion sense and a soulmate. I am officially the best little sister in the entire world.”

Alec smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders. “You really are. I’m so lucky to have you, Iz, really.”

Still unused to Alec’s blunt declarations of affection, Izzy blinked at him in the mirror, a slow smile spreading on her face. Meeting Magnus had done Alec a world of good; everyone could see it. Before Magnus came along, the only time Alec ever showed any kind of emotion was when he was dealing with his patients or his dog. Magnus had changed all that. In a matter of weeks, Alec had gone from withdrawn and uninterested in life to enthusiastic and engaged in everything around him. It was beautiful to see.

She and Clary had known when setting them up that Magnus would encourage Alec to loosen up, but when Alec called her the morning after their date and announced that Magnus was his soulmate, her first reaction was that she couldn’t believe it. She had to admit, though, that a part of her wasn’t surprised. They were total opposites, and they balanced each other out. Her and Clary had been very similar.

“What are you thinking about?” Alec asked.

Izzy sighed happily, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him from the side. “The first time I met Clary.”

The first time Izzy laid eyes on Clary, the redhead had been halfway through beating up a mugger. She could still see it vividly; the mugger’s shocked, bloodied face pressed into the pavement as Clary quite literally kicked the shit out of him. Izzy had rushed forward, instinct making her reach for the strange, angry woman to hold her back from actually killing the man who’d attacked her.

When she caught Clary around the wrist, the entire world shifted, literally, and Clary froze mid-kick, her gaze snapping to Izzy’s face. As the mugger crawled away, bruised and beaten, Clary’s wide, green eyes drank in every detail of her soulmate’s face.

“Trust me to get stuck with a hot head,” Izzy had chuckled breathlessly, and Clary had promptly burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t usually do this, I swear.” Clary had insisted, between sobs. “My Mom died, like… two weeks ago. I-I… I can’t. I can’t. You deserve better than this.”

Izzy hummed, putting her fingers under Clary’s chin to tip her head up and gently wiping her tears away with her free hand. “How do you know?”

Clary blinked at her, her light eyelashes catching the warmth of the setting sun. “Because… You’re the kindest person in the whole world. I can feel it.”

And that was how Isabelle Lightwood had fallen in love with Clary Fray.

“If it had been me, meeting my soulmate like that, I’d have run for the hills.” Alec admitted, shaking his head.

Izzy shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. “The first thing I remember thinking was ‘well fuck, my masochist streak is no joke’.”

Alec cackled, throwing his head back. “Excellent.”

“She needed me,” Izzy said softly, stepping away from Alec to get her earrings from the dressing table. “And I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed her too. You meet your soulmate when you need them the most.”

“I can’t believe you waited so long to get married,” Alec shrugged, helping her put on her veil. “I thought for sure you’d get married within the year.”

Izzy hummed, spinning around slowly in front of the mirror to look at the full effect of herself in her white fishtail wedding dress. “We wanted to have a nice wedding. There’s no way we could have saved up enough in a year. Besides, she had grieving to do, and I was still in college. This is the right time.” Her eyes were bright with joy when she turned to face Alec. “Let’s go.”

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

Clary and Izzy had flipped a coin to determine who’d stand at the altar and who’d walk down the aisle, with the promise of switching positions when they renewed their vows on their 25th wedding anniversary. The winner of the coin toss had been Clary, and she chose to be the one standing at the altar, wanting the full effect of watching her bride walk towards her.

When the doors opened and Izzy appeared, Clary knew that there was no hope that she’d manage to keep her shit together, and Magnus surreptitiously pressed a tissue into her hand. Thanking God for Magnus’ sob-proof make-up, Clary dabbed at her eyes as Izzy floated down the aisle escorted by Alec, though she barely noticed him. Her eyes could only see Izzy, sparkling and radiant, the shape of her joyful smile visible even through the translucent material of the veil. The moment she got close enough, Clary reached for her hand, and with a quick squeeze, they turned to face Simon, Clary’s childhood friend.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Simon asked nervously into the mic, and Clary and Izzy peeked at each other, giggling. “Sorry, my bad. This is very serious business. You know, when Clary and Izzy first asked me to do the ceremony, I said no at first, because, well… I ramble. But anyway, uh, I thought about it, and I realised that yes, I had to do this. Because Clary’s my oldest friend in the world, right? When we met in kindergarten, I remember being absolutely inconsolable that she wasn’t my soulmate. She was the kindest, sweetest, fiercest person I’d ever met, and she was always unwaveringly loyal. She is the kind of woman that anybody would thank God for giving them. But, you know, I dealt with it, growing up, and then I met this kickass law student, totally poised, classy and witty. I mean, she could… She’d kill you with a choice sentence. It was beautiful. And her name was Isabelle.”

Izzy grinned mischievously at Simon, who chuckled.

“So we started dating, right, and I was like, oh man, this is it. We waited three dates before we touched, and… Still black and white. I was like, really? I’ve now met two of the best women in the entire world and neither of them were right for me? But, it turns out, they weren’t meant for me. Because they were meant for each other. Now, I’m not gonna lie, when Clary brought her soulmate home for dinner the first time and it was Izzy, I literally screamed.”

“He did,” Clary giggled tearfully, and Simon beamed at her.

“But after all of two minutes of watching them together, I realised that what they have goes beyond a soulmate bond. It goes beyond pheromones and whatever genetic bullshit. Because even in a world where we didn’t have soulmates, in a world of, I don’t know, monsters and demons, these two wonderful women still would have found each other. Their hearts would beat as one in any universe. I truly believe that. And today we’re here to celebrate that miracle, and the fact that from now until always, they’ll have each other to lean on. And now I’m gonna join you all in crying like a baby while they tell us just what they mean to each other.” Simon bowed a little, and everyone laughed, Magnus wordlessly handing him a tissue as Izzy and Clary turned to face each other.

“The first time I met you,” Clary said quietly, grateful that the mic meant she didn’t have to shout, “I was broken, and angry, and I felt like I had nothing left. My Mom meant everything to me, and she was taken from me so suddenly. I thought that I’d be an ugly, violent husk of a person forever. When I was beating that guy up, I didn’t know restraint or compassion. And then,” she took a deep shaky breath, “you touched me. And just as suddenly as I lost everything, I gained everything back. With that simple touch, you not only literally gave my life colour, but you brightened everything around me. You didn’t coddle me, you never shrugged off my pain, you held me and scolded me when I needed it, and I don’t deserve you, Iz. I really don’t. You always know what to say to make me feel whole, and safe. I have no idea what the hell I did in another life to earn your love and affection, but I’m going to spend this life being the best person, the best wife I can be, because I want the gift of your soul in the next life and every other life after that.”

As Simon predicted, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house by the time Magnus handed Clary the ring to put on Izzy’s finger. Izzy herself was laughing breathlessly, her lower lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together long enough to say her vows.

“Clary, it’s been the greatest joy of my life in watching you heal. When we met, I looked like I had it all together, but the truth is I was lost. I was overworked, hyper focussed, and I felt like I was dead inside. You were brave enough to show your pain to the world, you screamed it and made people listen because you knew that you deserved to be heard. I adored that about you in the moment we met, and if anything, I adore it even more now. I admire you so much, Clary Fray. You are the most authentic, honest, most selfless person I know. I’ve had the honour of standing by your side as you knitted your heart back together, and through some stroke of luck I’ve been the one you handed it to. As we go forward together into the rest of our lives, I promise you that I will continue to support and cherish you, and never, ever let you slip. I know that your greatest fear is falling back into rage and hatred, and I swear to you, I will love you hard enough and deep enough that at the end of the day, when you walk through our front door, the world will melt away. It’s just going to be you and me, babe, until the end of our lives. And I couldn’t be happier.”

Izzy turned to get the ring from Alec, but he was sobbing, his hand over his face, so Magnus fondly plucked the ring out of his hand and gave it to his sister with a wink, patting Alec on the shoulder gently.

“I’m sorry,” Alec gasped, waving Magnus away as Izzy slipped the ring onto Clary’s finger, “I never thought I’d live to see the day where she took something for herself.”

Magnus hummed, and squeezed his waist. “I know, darling. I know.”

“Now, who will give away Isabelle Lightwood?” Simon asked, glancing at Alec, who reached out to squeeze Izzy’s hand.

“I will.” Alec announced, and Izzy looked back to smile at him.

“And who will give away Clary Fray?”

Luke raised his hand wordlessly, his free hand on the back of the empty chair next to him. Clary made eye contact with him for a moment, and his face crumpled in a tearful smile. “I will.”

Simon grinned. “Cool! Oh! If there’s anyone who thinks these two shouldn’t get married, speak now or forever hold your peace, whatever. Anybody? No? Awesome.” He sighed, shoulders slumping in relief. “Go on then, Fray, what are you waiting for? Kiss her, fuck!”

Clary was careful as she lifted the veil over Izzy’s head, letting it float down over her hair. Izzy was a little more forceful, and Clary yelped as it tugged at her hair, making Izzy giggle.

“Sorry,” she whispered, her hands encircling Clary’s waist.

Clary shook her head, swiping at happy tears. “Apology accepted.”

“By the power vested in me by the worldwide web, I now pronounce Clarissa Fray and Isabelle Lightwood married!” Simon exclaimed, joining everyone in clapping as the two newlyweds kissed passionately, Clary throwing her arms around Izzy’s neck as they sunk into it. “Oof! Geez, there are kids here…”

“Simon, the mic’s still on!” Magnus hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Alec laughed, burying his face in Magnus’ neck as Izzy and Clary broke apart.

“Ladies and gentlemen and non binary pals, I present to you, Mrs and Mrs Lightwood-Fray!” Simon crowed, throwing his fist in the air. Everyone cheered and stood to clap as Izzy and Clary walked down through the venue hand in hand, so caught up in each other they didn’t give anyone else a second glance.

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

“You know, I didn’t take you for a crier,” Magnus teased as he and Alec swayed together on the dancefloor later that night.

Alec rolled his eyes. “I’m not, not usually. I haven’t cried like that since I was, like, fifteen.”

Magnus hummed, his fingertips rubbing at the soft, short hair on the back of Alec’s neck. “For the record, you’re a very pretty crier. It’s almost annoying, actually.”

“Just wait until you see me when I’m sick. I promise you I’m not pretty then.”

Magnus smiled. “I can’t wait.”

Alec snorted, leaning back a little. “You can’t wait for me to get sick? Sadistic bastard.”

“I can’t wait to experience every little detail of you,” Magnus explained, leaning in to rub their noses together. “I can’t wait until the day I can hand on heart say I know you inside out.”

With a bashful smile, Alec tucked his face into Magnus’ neck. “Shut up.”

“Nope, never going to happen, you may as well accept that now,” Magnus teased, kissing Alec on the temple. “Me and my big mouth are here to stay.”

“Forever,” Alec murmured, lifting his head.

“Mmm,” Magnus nodded, eyes tender. “Forever.”

#clizzy #clizzy fanfic #clizzy fanfiction #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters fanfic #content #writing #soulmate au

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snowbellewells · 6 years

Text

CS Fic Exchange Prompt #4: “Melted Chocolate”

Okay, so I’m almost late enough that Valentine’s Day is practically over, but I’m posting this anyway, both for some fun holiday fluff, and for my entry in the CS Fic Exchange for Prompt #4. I haven’t used every part, but I have worked in the: candy hearts, rain, high winds, or other weather events, and the dialogue: “On a scale from one to irreconcilable differences on divorce papers, how much do you think (character) will mind if…?”

I don’t think there’s much else you need to know to enjoy this little one shot. Though I would have loved to see more of our pirate and princess in another season of OuaT, I’m having a good bit of fun imagining their happy beginning in a normal Storybrooke without the constant danger and upset – not to mention reading what everyone else sees for them as well! Imagine this is sometime not so far past the end of season six, but before Henry takes off on his own, since he is clearly still here and happy with Violet.

Of course I don’t own them! Enjoy this and the rest of your holiday evening!

“Melted Chocolate”

by: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

“No, no, no!” Emma Swan moaned in sheer disgruntled reluctance, already knowing it was as bad as she feared; her forehead coming to rest against the steering wheel of her Bug where her hands were still clenched tightly. “Tell me this isn’t happening!”

The sudden rainstorm pelted down on the roof and against the windows; the downpour making her feel all the more hemmed in as the car tilted slightly in the sucking mud where they had swerved blindly off the road just enough to get stuck in the ditch, the left rear wheel sinking slowly in the mire where it was caught. The only thing that kept her from actually crying out in frustration was the feel of her husband’s curved appendage coming to rest on her shoulder, the comforting weight rubbing gentle circles into her tensed muscles in a soothing fashion.

“Come now, Love,” Killian murmured, bending to peer into her eyes as best he could with the way she had bent over the wheel and was petulantly avoiding his pretty blue eyes. “It can’t be all that bad, can it?”

She gave him a narrow-eyed glare as she sat up to face him, but still heaved a dejected sigh. If she looked at that concerned, adoring gaze too long, she wouldn’t even have her anger to hold onto. “Well, pardon me,” she grumped, only half teasing. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the car’s stuck, and there’s a literal monsoon going on outside, so it’s not great, no.”

As if in agreement with her words, the VW gave a creaking sort of settling moan, listing even more to the left once again, and Killian offered her a sheepish grin and half-shrug in recognition of her point. “Well,” he offered hopefully, holding up the plastic shopping bag from their quick run to the next town over, “at least we won’t starve.” He paired his words with a playful quirk of his brow, and for a fleeting moment it was all Emma could do not to burst out in a fit of giggles at his antics, the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the sudden storm blown up out of nowhere, despite all her previous frustration.

Shaking her head, she looked over at him in disbelieving amusement before responding sarcastically. “You just had to have those particular candy hearts, didn’t you?”

“I did promise them to Henry. After all the effort he went to in writing those verses for the young Lady Violet, it seemed a shame to deny him the finishing touch he requested. They were out of stock at the Dark Star, and so I truly had no other recourse. Though, whilst we are on the subject, why any of us frequent the pharmacy of a dwarf who has had a cold as long as I have known him is beyond me.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Emma snarked back tartly, “we’ve got bigger problems now.”

“Aye, Darling, I can see that,” Killian acceded with a grudging nod, knowing he was the more optimistic member of their duo and clearly therefore hated to acknowledge defeat and the negative until it couldn’t be helped. Still, things had clearly reached that point, as a jarring crack of thunder chose that moment to rattle the car’s windows in their frames and a jagged streak of lightning blossomed in the sky, highlighting the tension on both their faces.

Licking his lips as if gathering himself for a difficult question before plowing ahead, Killian ventured a still somewhat hopeful glance across the center console to meet hers and asked. “I don’t supposed your magic could unstick us from this predicament?” But the words were barely uttered before he trailed off, chagrined at the embarrassed and regretful look on his wife’s face.

Emma shook her head mournfully, blaming herself already for whatever the issue might be. “I thought so too,” she replied softly, offering up her hands, palms turned up and lying open, “but it isn’t working. Whatever command I try to send doesn’t seem to be having any effect. My magic is as on the fritz as our phones and the radio seem to be.” Letting her hands drop again dejectedly into her lap, Emma sent Killian an apologetic look and huffed out addition of, “I know, right? What good is having magic anyway, if it can’t get us out of a jam like this? Some Valentine’s date I turn out to be!”

Killian was quick to shake his head in disagreement, reaching over to pick Emma’s hands up again and pull them toward where he bent his dark head over them to press chaste, worshipful kisses into the center of both palms, lingering as if merely to inhale her scent and be nearer to her. “Emma, none of that now, my Lass,” he finally whispered against her skin, his lips petal-soft and his nose skimming along the life line that curved across her upper palm before the stubble that covered his chin and jawline began to tickle her sensitive skin. Raising his eyes to look at her over their entwined fingers, he barely breathed his next words aloud, and yet Emma felt them reverberating all the way down to her toes. “You are a bloody brilliant woman, amazing in every way, and the best Valentine any man could hope to have. I would want a date with no other, and I am lucky to call you my wife. Don’t you ever doubt that,” he swore fervently.

Emma’s smile was a bit tremulous, even as she tried not to get tearfully emotional on top of everything else. She nodded rapidly at Killian, as he clearly expected her promise not to sell herself short or to beat herself up for things beyond her control. She didn’t really trust her voice to be steady, but the warmth he had sent spreading through her insides was a heartening as bright sunshine on a summer’s day – the opposite of the wet grey pelting against the glass beside them.

Sniffling only slightly, she leaned over the console inconveniently stuck between them to bury her face in his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around and hold her close. After several calming moments like that, Emma realized that things could honestly be much worse. The rain – torrential flood strength though it might be – was outside, not leaking in anywhere, and they were still warm and dry. It was peaceful here in her little old car, and they were blessedly alone; something that rarely happened, emergency or no. No one was asking for their attention or even about to come looking for them and interrupt their moment together, not in the midst of such a cold, windy mess. The location might not have been the ideal she’d had in mind, but they were together at least, and undisturbed, two things that might not have happened for them otherwise, even on Valentine’s Day.

Mumbling against Killian’s skin, but unwilling to pull away just then, Emma spoke up with a bit more good humor to ask, “So, on a scale from one to irreconcilable difference on divorce papers, how much do you think Henry would mind if we tore into that bag of candy hearts?” She looked up at her pirate husband with an impish glimmer in her eyes. “If we’re going to ride this storm out here instead of making our dinner reservations, I’m going to get hungry, aren’t you?”

Killian smirked back at her, pleased with the turn in mood and more than willing to play along. “Oh, I don’t know, Swan, he seemed pretty adamant that Violet had to see these. But…I have grown on the lad. I don’t believe he would order me cast off at this first minor offense.”

She shook her head at his comeback, chortling at the impressive vocabulary he managed to employ even in jest, and began to rummage through the shopping bags for their plunder.

“However,” Killian said as he withdrew a small gift bag from somewhere inside his jacket, where Emma could only assume he had managed to hide it without her noticing sometime between the checkout and when they got in the car to head home, his voice temptingly low and eyebrow cocked invitingly. “If we do mean to break out our loot, I might have something for you that is a bit more appealing than those neon-colored, word-bedecked sugar cubes.” His tongue swept over his lower lip seductively as he watched her reaction, and Emma found herself reaching out to take the gift almost disjointedly, her movements slowed a bit at the stunned, blind attraction he could kindle in her at a moment’s notice.

When she tipped the bag upside down to free a boxed heart-shaped chocolate as large as her fist and wrapped in metallic foil, Killian continued with his honeyed words. “I thought you deserved something solid gold, Love. More reminiscent of your heart. Even if your real present is back at the house,” here he paused for dramatic effect, his eyebrows dancing merrily with barely restrained mischief, “I couldn’t resist when I saw this.”

“Flatterer,” Emma admonished, her cheeks warming as she used a nail to begin loosening the thick tape holding the box closed and pry it open. “How much of that poem for Violet did Henry write, and how much of it was your suggestion?”

“A gentleman never tells,” Killian replied archly, as though he would never dream of divulging such sacred information, to Emma’s snort of disbelief.

She got the packaging open with a bit more finagling, only to find that being pressed against her pirate’s always warm body had made one side of the chocolate heart go a bit softly melted. Making no comment, Emma tried to hold back the evil smile she felt creeping across her face. Peeling back the golden wrapper enough to get to the treat, she stuck her fingers in and then pulled back quickly, chocolate all over her fingertips, to smear the gooey delicacy across Killian’s chin and down his neck with a devious squeal of triumph.

“Hey now! What -- ?” but Killian’s squawk of protest is overcome rather rapidly by the desperate growl that echoed through his chest when Emma darted in quickly to suck the chocolate residue from his chin and lick up the remnants marked down his neck.

It didn’t take her Captain long to retaliate, and soon they were both sticky, panting, and the treat meant to tide them over until they got out of their fix was mushed into their hair, over their faces and hands, and across much of both their outfits. Still, Emma couldn’t find it in herself to mind. They celebrated Valentine’s Day together amidst a rainstorm, in kisses, giggles, and melted chocolate. No fancy dinner or dancing marked the occasion, but she did laughingly educate her Old World husband on what else could traditionally be done in a car stopped in the deserted middle of nowhere. As holiday revelry went, neither one of them would have celebrated it any other way.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @csficexchange @kmomof4 @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @ilovemesomekillianjones @captain-swan-coffee

#csfe #csficexchange #prompt four #cs valentines oneshot #cs ff

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2ndaryreactsandscenarios · 6 years

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UP10TION Reaction to: Falling In Love At First Sight

Hello hello, my fellow people! Today is a good day. I have received my first ever request. *Sniffles holding back tears* I’m sorry, I’m just feeling very emotional right now. Now this request was made to be falling in love at first sight, and shall be carried out as it is. No twists. I give you my word~ (Fingers crossed behind back) I’m kidding. With CC&I, this is a mess pot waiting to happen. Now why do this? Because I want to that’s why! Besides, why not really? Let’s get straight into this mess can you dig it? Alright? Okay.

Hello~I don't know if the requests are open...but could you do Up10tion reaction to falling in love at first sight?Thank you!^^ Love your page btw❤

WARNING: A LARGE AMOUNT OF COINCIDENCE, CONVENIENCE AND IRONY SHALL ENSUE! I REPEAT A LARGE AMOUNT OF COINCIDENCE, CONVENIENCE AND IRONY SHALL ENSUE!!! You have been warned.

Jinhoo (The Genius and Caring Leader)

Peace Out Route~

Jinhoo would literally have his breath taken away when he saw you. You would be out and about, just trying to carry on best you could with your day, when the moment just seemed so at peace. The wind would blow when Jinhoo happened to be walking the same path as you. He saw you, and he stopped in his tracks. Everything around him seemed to fade, all except for you. In that moment, it was as if it was meant just for the two of you. While time was going slow for him, you carried on and walked past him. He would bite his lip when he came to his senses. He would turn to see you walking away. He reached out and grabbed your hand. You would turn to see him, biting his lip, completely nervous and not certain of what to say. Every time he tried to speak, he felt his own heart hammering in his chest. He was at a loss of what to say to you. You asked if he was okay, and it was then he remembered that he should probably breath. And after doing so, he would finally manage to ask you; “Can you tell me your name?” And you would tell him. Later that evening, he would still be beside himself and happy that he got your name. He kept replaying it over and over again in his head. It was only on the 3,560th time did he realize that he hadn’t gotten your number, and had no way to contact you. He would be grumpy into the next day, until he so happened to see you again.

Mutual Out Route~

You were walking, tending to whatever business (or lack of) you had to. The wind blew as you walked down a rather empty path, when you met the eyes of Jinhoo, who was going the other direction. And it took your breath away. The whole world melted away, all except for you two. You wanted to stare at him forever, and you wanted to know why it felt like at any moment that your stomach would explode with butterflies. You managed to break away, feeling the blush creep up your face. You couldn’t believe that you had been so enamored by one mere glance from someone you’d never met. Falling in love at first sight seemed too much, but it was the only thing that fit. As the world seemed to rush back to your side, you continued on, knowing that it was too much to hope that he noticed you too. You passed him by, and you felt your own heart hold you back. I’m sorry did I say heart? I meant a literal hand. You turned to see Jinhoo holding your hand, looking right at you. He said nothing, and only stared at you. You didn’t know what to do when he was staring at you, and felt like you would turn brighter with every second. You finally mustered the courage to ask him if he was okay, to which he nodded, breathed out and instead asked for your name. And you told him. Later that night, you couldn’t believe how silly you had been that afternoon. Stopping and staring at someone you had never met. Only, deep in your heart, it didn’t feel so silly. You wished you could see him again, even now. But you knew it was too much to hope for. That is... Until you happened to cross paths again the next day.

Kuhn (The Confident, Charismatic Mood Maker)

Peace Out Route~

Now, Kuhn would literal have his jaw drop when he saw you. Through his eyes, you made the rest of the world seem dull. You carried yourself in such a way that captured his attention, and you did it in such a way that Kuhn lost interest in all else. And in that moment of butterflies and slack jaw, he would find it in himself to walk straight up to you. (Closing his mouth of course). You would look at him, and ask what he wanted. He would stick out his hand and say, “I’m Kuhn. Any chance I can get your name though?” And this caused you to laugh (whether it be out of how odd the situation itself is, or because of what he said, or you remembered something on TV, WHATEVER IT IS you laugh). When he heard you laugh, he felt his heart leap out of his chest. (His heart would look at him and tell him that this one was a keeper). After you gave him his name, and he walked away, he would practically be skipping though the streets with how happy you made him. It would be about 100 feet from the fateful encounter when he realized he hadn’t got your number, and thus had no way of contacting you. He would turn back and run off to find you! And when he did, all out of breath, he would try and say, “H-Hey. It’s me again. Quick *breathes for air* question. Can I... Have your number?” And after laughing for a good minute, you would give it to him for his award winning tenacity.

Mutual Out Route~

You had happened to be walking in a place, when someone was going out as you were going in. (There is a glass door, and next to it is a long glass window, you follow?) You would catch a glimpse of Kuhn as you entered the building. You would be struck down almost immediately as he captured your attention (I’m punny, yay!!!!). You would forget whatever you were doing, and go out of the building. You would look around trying to remember which way he was going and run after him. You didn’t know what you ere doing, it was foreign to you. But so was this feeling that he gave you. You felt too many things just from the sight of someone you had never met, and whatever it was, you needed to confirm whether or not it was real or not. Once you reached the corner of the building, you would turn sharply and bump into someone. Before you could hit the ground, you would be caught by one arm. One arm of the one and only Kuhn. You would look into each others eyes, and he would smile at you. His smile was the one thing you never knew you needed. That smile alone validated your feelings from earlier, and only made them grow in size. He would tilt his head and ask you, “Where are we running off to in such a hurry beautiful?” He would lift you back to your feet, holding on to one hand. “Before you run off, is there any chance I can get your name? And maybe... Your number?”

Kogyeol (The Humble, But Clumsy Charmer)

Peace Out Route~

Kogyeol would be very shy to approach you. He wouldn’t know what to say or how to get the conversation going. But when he saw you, he knew right away that he was caught hook line and sinker. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. With each step you grew closer to him, he felt he would burst into bloody red blush. He did his best to keep walking and focus on whatever it was he was doing at the time, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. So much to the fact that he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran straight into a pole. He held in the pain as he tried to hold his tears back, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. It was none other than you. You asked him if he was okay. He shook his head frantically, and then nodded, which confused you. He was just so excited. You, the one who had stolen his heart, had actually talked to him. Coincidence? I think, NOT! (References~Incredibles~) “No, I’m okay. Just caught off guard.” (By you!) You would tell him to be more careful as you gave him something cold for his nose (because you just so happened to have something cold. Yeah). You would turn and begin to walk away, when Kogyeol gathered enough will to call out to you and yell, “Can I ask for your number?!” You would turn around in surprise, and Kogyeol would be blushing from ear to ear. He didn’t know he had it in him to be so forward. And lucky for him, that forwardness rewarded him with a number that day he fell in love.

Mutual Out Route~

You were sitting in a library doing worked, books stacked on the edge of the table (because for some odd reason you decided to do this). You were focused, or at least trying to on whatever it is you needed information on when your elbow hit the books, causing them to fall onto the floor. Others looked at you in surprise, annoyance, and curiosity; but not one of them got up to help you. You quickly tried to pick up the things that fell to the ground, embarrassed that it had happened, when you saw someone kneel down beside you and help you. You looked up and you were *ding ding ding* knocked out! K.O! Kogyeol had you completely enamored, as you took in every detail about him. He turned to you and handed you the books. “Here you go.” You were still staring at him, and were in what seemed to be an unbreakable trance. He would tilt his head and look at you. “Are you okay? Do you feel... alright?” You would snap out of it, and tell him you were okay. He would laugh. “That’s a relief. I was worried for a second there.” He would get up to walk away, and you would be so startled. You had only barely just met him. He couldn’t be leaving just yet. You would get up quickly to say something, and he would turn to see what was up. As you tried to take a step forward and say something, you felt all of the papers you had just gathered fall out of your grasp. You stood a blushing mess, as you picked the mess. Once again, Kogyeol picked the papers up for you, only he was snickering now. You apologized to him, and he said it was fine. “It’s not every day I have such an interesting encounter. You had something you wanted to say? Go ahead. You have officially caught my full attention.”

Wei (The Tall and High Angelic Rapper)

Peace Out Route~

Wei would be on a walk to who knows where, when he would end up on a rather isolated or empty path. Walking down it he felt completely isolated and the path seemed dark. But then you came down it. When he laid eyes on you as you walked down the path, he was amazed by how you could light up a path like that, how one other person could do something like that. You had your headphones in and your head to the sky. Wei kept his eyes on you, fascinated by your ability to light up his view without trying. But since neither of you are capable of watching the path you walk, it was only natural that you collided. You would meet Wei’s gaze as he loomed over you. He hurriedly held out a hand to you. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?” You took it, and said it was alright. You looked at him again and said you didn’t know how you could have missed him. “Oh, because of my height? I guess I’m pretty tall aren’t I?” You looked at him in surprise and looked away. Wei saw the red on your ears, as you said quietly that supposed he was tall after all. You wouldn’t admit that you weren’t talking about his height, and that it was him overall that you had missed.

Mutual Out Route~

You were trying to reach for a book on a high shelf at a local library, and just couldn’t reach it. You tried to reach, and obviously couldn’t, so you were just about ready to see if the coast was clear enough to climb the shelf when someone put a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Wei reaching up and grabbing the book for you. “Is it this one?” You nodded, and he looked at you holding the book in his hand. When his eyes looked into your own, it was as if you could see a whole other world in them. You believed his world to be so much more interesting than your own, or any of the worlds in these books. You wanted to look at it forever, but he placed the book on your head, and began to walk away. You wanted to call out to him and thank him for getting it for you, but he seemed to be gone, and left as quickly as he came. You sighed as you returned to your little corner of the library, and read your book. But it wasn’t nearly as interesting as Wei was. You didn’t even know his name then, but you wished you had had the courage to ask for it. You sighed, as you put your head in the book. You felt a chair move beside you, and gave a melancholy glance to whoever pulled the chair open. “Is it okay that I sit here?” You sat up immediately and nodded. It was Wei, the guy from earlier. You tried to focus on being natural and reading the book, but none of the words were getting through to you. When you glanced at him, he was reading something of his own. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. “Is it interesting?” He would look at you and smile, and without hesitation you said it was the most interesting thing in the world. Realizing the words that had just left your mouth you covered it, as Wei’s surprised expression matched your own. You tried to assure him that you meant the book, as he covered his face up to his nose with his book. With a blush touched upon each ear, he mutter, “You’re really forward aren’t you?” Your blush rose in shade as you thanked him for getting it. Regaining his composure, he said, “Well, if you want to repay me... It’d be nice to have a name for you beautiful... And a number to call you?” You would give it to him despite your nervousness, and you two went off into a whole little world of your very own.

Bitto (The Deep and Low, Dance King Rapper)

Would meet you at a bus stop, and you have headphones in.

Peace Out Route~

Bitto would arrive at an empty bus stop. He would look at his phone, and wonder how it was possible the bus still hadn’t arrived yet. That’s when he heard some shuffling on the other side of the wall. (You know bus stops how they have this three sided wall facing out to the streets? And how on the inside of those walls there is a bench usually? Bitto was standing on the others side of a wall and you are where the benches are. Oops... Surprise it’s you, but wasn’t that obvious? ANYWAY) Bitto would glance to the inside, and see you jamming out there. You had headphones loud enough for any passerby to hear the music. You were jamming to... an oldie, a classic... Mr.Blue Sky! (WHY? Because it was a clear day and you can see a blue sky! That is WHY) You would be jamming along with the music, and your mumbles would become louder as you got more into the music. And Bitto would just watch you in a fascination. You were just funking it out, and your headphones were loud enough to blast the entire world out. You moved around more wildly, and eventually turned to meet his gaze. And he wouldn’t even hide the fact that he was watching you. He would clap his hands, applauding the performance. He would then shoo his hand forward and say, “Go on. Not everyday you get to see a performance like that.” So, Bitto’s love at first sight would be much more subtle. But, you would be on his mind for days, and it would hit him harder because he didn’t know what he was feeling. But he would be more so that enamored with you that he himself didn’t realize how he felt for you.

Mutual Out Route~

WARNING: Coincidence, Convenience, and Irony MURDERED THIS ONE. So, you would be at the bus stop with your headphones in, silently jamming to some jams. You were fine singing aloud till someone sat beside. This would be Bitto, who also had his headphones in. He didn’t look at you, and you didn’t look at him. You both were just sitting there bobbing your heads to your own music. And because you two were so stuck inside your own heads, you didn’t realize that you two were dancing to the music you heard. Then, a new jam entered the scene, and you know that build up to the beat drop yeah? Well you would both yell out the drop lyric at the same time (so if it was like Bang Bang Bang, you would yell out “Bang Bang Bang together, and be doing the choreography). Now yes, headphones are playing, but you can both hear each other shout that out and you look at each other. Just the sight of Bitto blew you away, and you looked away. You weren’t sure if people like him or moments like this were real. He would wave his hand in front of your face. He would yell loud (his headphones were in), “HEY! ARE YOU LISTENING TO THIS TOO?” When you gave him a weird look, he realized his headphones were still in. He took them out, and took them out of his phone, blasting the music out of it. “Were you listening to this too?” You disconnected your headphones too, and (CC&I) your musics would be playing in sync, same part, same line, down to the same second! (Now you say impossibility, I say convenience, coincidence, and irony! It is a scenario, and you never know. Ha, that rhymed) When he heard the music playing in sync, he would be very hyped up. He would literally jump with joy, unable to believe something like this had happened. “This is amazing! Come one!” Bitto wouldn’t be satisfied until you did the song dance with him. After the song ended, he would be hyped as could be that that just happened. You wanted to ask him his name, but the bus arrived, and he went on, not giving you the chance. You sat down on the bus sadly. Moments like that were rare (Rare? RARE? IMPOSSIBLE!!!) , and you had let a chance encounter like that pass you by. In the end, before the bus could take off, you decided to take a chance! To be courageous and go sit next to him. You got up suddenly out of your seat, and Bitto would ask you, “What’s wrong?” You jumped! He was sitting in the seat next to you. You sat down and asked him when he got there and why he was there. “Why? Because I want to sit next to you.” You sighed, tired from getting yourself worked up. “Changhyun... It’s my name. But some people call me Bitto.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it giving him your own name. You two spent the bus ride talking music. You knew you were smitten with him, and hated how relaxed him seemed looking back. However, if you had taken the time to look carefully then, you would have noticed the red in Bitto’s ears, from when he sat down next to you at the bus stop, throughout the entire bus ride, and from then on.

Wooshin (The King of Entertainment, Shy Fox Troublemaker)

Peace Out Route~

Wooshin would be at a local bookstore, browsing through the comic section, not really sure what was a good number of manga to buy. Or which manga to buy for that matter. He suddenly heard a small voice tell him that the one he was reading was really good. He turned and looked at you reading a manga standing next to him. He suddenly got flustered and shy, and would try to respond. But he found he couldn’t really look at you. “Oh? Is that so?” You would nod and come closer to him saying that this series was actually a sequel, but still a stand alone. However you would trigger something in him, when you said that one series is better than the other. “No way. This series is so much better. The story line is complimented so well by the artwork!” You two would end up in a debate about which series was better for whatever reason you two saw fit. It wouldn’t matter how enamored he was, he would defend his favorite series. After an eternity of said banter and argument, you would both come to the mutual agreement to respect the opinion on this particular matter and series for now. Wooshin by this point would be excited and would say, “But we can’t just leave this up in the air. You can’t honestly still think that it’s better. I’ll prove it to you that it is a good series. Let me have your number, so I can show you fair and square!” And you being as hyped as he was from the argument would agree. “Fine! I’ll show you!” Wooshin would then storm off after the exchange, and process that he had gotten your number. And more than being heated over the argument, he would feel the heat rise in his cheeks in embarrassment for letting himself get so excited. He would silently pat himself on the back for a job well done.

Mutual Out Route~

You had been visiting a bookstore for quite sometime now. Why? Because your heart had utterly been stolen by Wooshin. You had walked in to get a book you had been curious about and seen him in the comic section reading. Since then, it was natural that you wanted to find something in common with this mysterious man. So, you delved in the comic section, and wanted to learn more about any and everything about the comics that had gained his interest. You started with the ones he picked up and the ones you saw him buy. Then from there on you were stuck hook line and sinker in the world of comics. So one day by pure coincidence, you had been browsing the sections and by the power of the CC&I in that bookstore, you had stood beside Wooshin while browsing. You peered up at him and saw his debatable expression while he looked at the book, and you realized in surprise that you had read that series before. So you gathered the little bit of courage you could muster and told him that it was a good series. “Oh? Is that so?” You mustered your courage again, and would try to give him other recommendations, and when he was really quiet, you thought you had scared him away. Your voice grew quieter and you quietly said that one series was better than another, when Wooshin leaned in close to you and said, “No way. This one is way better.” Now, all you fear and anxiety flew away. You had gotten more heavily into comics because of him, and he was going to diss your current favorite series? Oh no no no. This lead to a debate that even tired out the sun, as it set on that day. “ Let me have your number, so I can show you fair and square!” You couldn’t believe it as you walked away from the argument. You had finally spoken to him, and you even got his number. You thanked the comic guardians of dignity, and instantly remembered your own! You were determined to prove to Wooshin that the series you liked was better... And maybe win his heart along the way.

Sunyoul (The Beautiful Gentle Voice That Goes HIGH)

Peace Out Route~

Sunyoul would be at a convenience store called CC&I, and would be shopping for little things he needed. It was when he heard the door ring that he would glance to see who came in out of pure curiosity. It was the most fatal moment of his life, as you entered the convenience store and took his breath away right away. He would keep his eyes on you, and pretend to be interested in the items that he happened to pass by. However, because he wasn’t looking where he was going, he wouldn’t notice the WET FLOOR SIGN smack in the middle of the floor. Needless to say that the fall would be epic. He would fall and hold his head in pain, when you would run up to him and ask if he was okay. You would end up falling to and he would get up quickly and ask, “Are you okay?” You two would look at each other and end up laughing at the sight. You would insist through your laughter that you asked if he was alright first. “Me? What about you?” After you two laughed for some time, you finally composed yourselves. You introduced yourself, and you asked for his name, which would send his heart on somersault and back flip sprees. “You can call me Sunyoul.” After you two left the scene of the accident, you two would hit it off right away, and would be talking about purely anything that came up. Sunyoul was happy to be with you, and secretly, you were just as happy as he was.

Mutual Out Route~

You would be out and about in the rain, and would be running to take cover until the rain let up. You reached an almost empty bus stop, and was trying to catch your breath, when someone caught your eye. The only other person inhabiting the bus stop, Sunyoul. He would be looking at you, and you would be looking at him. You would look at the bus stop schedule, and try to keep your composure. But how can you really? Your soaking wet, and cold, and of course now struck down with an illness called love at first sight itis. You tried to avoid eye conduct, and were embarrassed out of your mind. Suddenly you heard footsteps coming closer to you. Against your better judgement, you decided to look and see what was now standing beside you. You looked to see Sunyoul shyly standing next to you. “Um? Aren’t you cold? If you are, here. You can wear this.” Sunyoul held out a jacket for you. “You can also use this is you want to.” He held out an umbrella too. Reluctantly you took it, then you thought a moment. You asked him if you took those, what would he do. “I’ll find a way back to where I need to go. I care more about you now anyway-- AH!!” As soon as the words left his mouth he was hunched on the ground. You peered down on him, and saw his ears a bright red. You laughed, as you hunched down with him. You told him as you opened the umbrella and held it over him that you weren’t gonna leave him behind, and that if you were going anywhere, you would take him with you. He peeked up at you and then at the umbrella and sighed. “See? This is the stuff you can’t do. It’s embarrassing for me you know! My heart can’t take this sort of thing.” And despite all embarrassment, you both made it out of the rain alive and together.

Gyujin (The Absolute Shyest and Purest)

Peace Out Route~

Gyujin would be at a loss of words. He would know from the minute he laid eyes on you that he wanted to keep looking forever. He would be far too shy to say anything or initiate a conversation with you. So, he decided that if he couldn’t talk to you, it would be you who would talk to him. He would end up following you around, heart practically beating in his throat. He would do this in the hopes of finding the perfect opportunity to bump into you, and to have you clear the air by speaking to him in what he imagined to be a gentle voice. And he was so delighted by his genius and by this plan that it didn’t at all occur to him that it was uncalled for or possibly creepy. This continued for some time, until you finally called him out for following you, and demanded an answer. You waited, arms crossed, for an answer to leave his mouth, and were growing more frustrated by the minute. Eventually Gyujin, growing frustrated from you being frustrated shouted, “I wanted to find a way to talk to you and didn’t want to leave seeing someone so cute! I wanted to talk to you because I wanted to get to know you! Okay?” Gyujin and yourself would be taken back by this answer, and he would cover his mouth embarrassed. “No... W-wait, you shouldn’t have heard that... This was supposed to sound cooler...” You would be humored by it though.You told him if he wanted to talk to you, then he should have called out to you. “How can I call out to someone so pretty?” You would feel your face turn red to this reply, and needless to say, you both took the plunge that day on the ship called loved.

Mutual Out Route~

You would be out and about, when you encountered Gyujin in a shop you frequented. You would stop cold, and hide in one of the nearby aisles. You would peek at him again, almost as if you were checking to see if he was real. He would still be standing there. You wouldn’t know what they were saying and took time to find a place to hide or sit until he left. You didn’t know what to do with this new feeling, and were scared of it at the moment. You only knew he was the source of it, and that it wasn’t safe until he was gone. You finally saw him move, and continued to move around the store to avoid him. This continued for some time. Eventually you lost sight of him, and thought he had finally left the store. You turned around to see him staring down at you, and immediately looked at the ground. You didn’t know what to do, and heard a small voice say, “Are you okay?” You looked up and saw him looking at you with concern, and felt tears bubble out of your eyes. He just had so many butterflies flying in your stomach that you really didn’t know if it was okay to feel this way. He would instantly panic at the sight of tears, and would actually scream a little. “Ah, no! Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all!” He would make it his priority to cheer you up, and wouldn’t be satisfied until said condition was met. “Actually... I had seen you here a while back. I just didn’t have the courage to come and talk to you. But, I stopped by hoping I’d see you again. And then you started to cry, and well... It wasn’t at all what I planned...” You would apologize for crying and the rest was history...

Hwanhee (The Heart Melter, Fake Maknae#2 and Whiner)

Peace Out Route~

Hwanhee is the only one with the second hand confidence of Kuhn to be bold enough to know what he liked right away and to go after you. There would hardly be any hesitation. He would see you sitting on a bench, doing something like playing on your phone or reading a book, and would make a B line for you. He would sit beside you on the bench, and just look at you. You would ask him if he needed something to which he would reply: “Hi. My name is Hwanhee, but the one thing that would make me happiest right now is knowing your name. Could you do that for me?” You would smile, and ask him why he wanted to know it. “Because, don’t you want to make me happy, so I can have the best day ever?” You would say that you didn’t even know him. “Yet! And if you don’t know me, let’s take this chance to get to know me. All I ask in return is that you let me get to know you.” You would ask again why. “Isn’t this how people get to know each other? If you see someone and want to know them, isn’t this how you start introductions?” After minutes of this sort of banter, you would give in and give him your name. He would stand up satisfied and make like he intended to leave, but clap his hands and return. You would look at him expectantly and ask him what he needed now that you made him happy. “I’m sorry, I have a confession to make. I need one more thing to make me happy forever.” You would ask him what that was. “Your heart. You already have mine, so can I have it please?”

Mutual Out Route~

You would be walking in a park when you say Hwanhee sitting on a bench. He was sitting right before your eyes, but you could tell from one glance that his head was in the clouds. You wanted to talk to him that day, get to know what he saw up in that sky filled with clouds. So, everyday for the next several days, you would sit somewhere nearby, and try to see what he saw. And everyday, you got closer and closer to him. You always stayed until he left, and when he did you would sit in the spot next to where he was, just to feel closer to him. You always told yourself that tomorrow would be different, and you would get the courage to waltz up and sit next to him, starting a conversation with the man who stole your heart. He took your heart away and didn’t even know it. That just wasn’t fair, and you wanted his heart in return. But as the days turned to weeks, you felt like it was all in your head. That you were in love with the idea of him and that you hadn’t the foggiest clue or idea of how he really was. So, you were a few benches down from him, and rather than looking at him, this time you looked at the sky. Maybe if you could find what had snatched his eyes away from the world, you could understand him more, and maybe that could be a reason for why you liked him so much. You didn’t notice until someone blocked your view of the sky. You were shocked to see Hwanhee in front of you. “You’ve been a while haven’t you?” He asked. You nodded. He smiled as he sat down beside you. “What do you see in that world of yours? You always have your head in the clouds when you come here. I don’t mean to be rude... I just noticed that you come here often.” You wanted to respond, but you felt yourself laugh. Only laugh. So it wasn’t just you who had noticed him. Somewhere along the way, he had noticed you, and that made you feel in your heart the answer: Ah, you really love him, don’t you? You told him you could ask him the same thing. You wouldn’t find this out until much later, but Hwanhee had seen you on the streets a while back. He went to that park wondering if he would ever meet you again, and as fate (or CC&I) would have it, you were there too.

Xiao (The True Maknae and the Emotional Guy)

Peace Out Route~

In this scenario, Xiao would actually have the same freeze moment that some of the members did (Where everything goes slow in that moment). But, within that moment, he would probably have a lot of thoughts going on inside his head. What is this feeling? Who are you? Why is my heart racing? He would feel so many things at once. The butterflies, the raising heat in his head, and his eyes concentrating on only you. He knew that it would be simply to just talk to you, but what if he said the wrong things? What if he blurted out his feelings and you rejected them? All of the what ifs overwhelmed him. So within that moment, he cried. Cried from the feelings that were born and your overwhelming beauty. He didn’t know how to approach either. He felt panic as he felt time return to his side. Because as it ticked on and on, you were continuing forward selfishly; leaving him stuck forever. And he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t control time, but he absolutely knew that he didn’t want this to be the last moment you two shared. But as the tears fell down his cheeks, and he felt ever so hopeless, he could only hang his head low, as he stood in the middle of a busy path trying to collect himself. Passerby’s all gave him curious looks or annoyed ones, but they carried on with their days. Everyone passed him by... except for you. He felt someone stop in front of him and glanced to be surprised when he saw you. You asked him if he was okay. He wanted to tell you that he was fine, but he just ended up spilling a river of tears. You panicked and hugged him, rubbing his back and saying it was okay. Except that was a fatal mistake. Because now that he had a hold on you, he was never going to let you go.

Mutual Out Route~

You would be out and about, carrying on down a busy path, when you bumped into someone. You would turn to apologize when (Cupid aiming his arrow straight at your hear, BA-DA-BING BA-DA-SHOOT! Oopsie daisy, he hit you straight in the hear) you met the gaze of Xiao. INITIATE the freeze moment. Perhaps you have had crushes before, or liked someone before, but you have never liked someone this much before. You had never met the person before, and he hadn’t even said a word to you. And yet, you could drown in his eyes forever in that one moment. Suddenly a tear streamed down your face. You didn’t know why, it just suddenly fell out. You tried to wipe it away when you heard a small laugh. Xiao grabbed your arm and smiled. You looked at him to see a tear stain on his own face. “We’re the same aren’t we? We both cried. I wonder why though...” You asked him why he was crying. He smirked at you, leaning in close enough to whisper to you. “Why are you?” After a moment, you would say that you asked him first. He would lean back, and you almost swore you caught hint of a blush. He put his hands in his pocket, and smiled at you. “I wonder...” You couldn’t help but wonder if he could hear the butterflies flapping their wings in your stomach when he spoke again. Only this time he seemed pretty bashful. “You’re so curious about me, but all I’m curious about is that name of yours~” You laughed at that, and he stomped his foot in frustration. “Oh, come on! You know how cringe-y it sounded! Imagine how much I cringed in having to say it!” You were still laughing at the line, and he was obviously embarrassed now, losing all composure he had. “Are you ever going to stop laughing and tell me your name? I’ll tell you mine. It’s Xiao. Come on, please?” After an seemingly eternity of your laughing, you finally consoled a pouty Xiao by telling him your name. But he wouldn’t be satisfied with just that. “Not enough anymore. You shambled my pride. Now I need a number to call and repair it.” You broke out laughing again. “STOP IT!!”

Wowzers! That’s a lot of words! I hope that the person who requested this is happy with what I wrote. I had a fun time writing it, and I sincerely hope that all you people are having a fantastic day/afternoon/evening/night, and shall see you all again soon!

#up10tion #up10tion reactions #up10tion reaction #up10tion scenario #up10tion scenarios #up10tion jinhoo #up10tion kuhn #up10tion kogyeol #up10tion wei #up10tion bitto #up10tion wooshin #up10tion sunyoul #up10tion gyujin #up10tion hwanhee #up10tion xiao #kpop reactions #kpop reaction #kpop scenario #kpop scenarios

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sarah-bae-maas · 7 years

Text

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Twenty Three

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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***

-Chapter 23-

Eleana stared in horror at her closed door, the bang from her mother slamming it still reverberating in the room. She was staring at it over the shoulder of Kaden, who had gone still above her, his face the perfect painting of mortification.

“Shit,” he gasped as he pulled out of her and rolled away. He draped his legs over the side of the bed and clutched his head in his hands. “Fuck, Eleana, I’m so sorry.”

She leant up on her elbows, her face flaming from embarrassment. This was not how she wanted her mother to find out, in literally the most humiliating way possible. She clutched the blanket to her chest, covering herself. She blindly extended an arm to stroke Kaden’s back, the male tenser than she’d ever seen him.

“Your parents are going to kill me,” he said.

“They very well might.” Without context, without knowing the full story, it would not be out of the realm of possibility for her father to come storming in like a tumultuous sea of wrath and do Mother knows what to Kaden.

This is not how she wanted them to find out.

“He’s going to be so mad at me,” she gasped. “Not because of you – never because of you – but because I wasn’t honest. He has – he has no idea that I even think about men like that.” There were many thoughts running through Eleana’s mind as she was confronted with the certainty that her relationship with Kaden was no longer hers. Her whole family were now free to nit-pick over it, her parents would now become looming figures of supervision, and with their abilities there was hardly a chance she could keep her mateship a secret.

Kaden stood, shucking on his pants and shirt before gathering some clothes of her own. He helped her in her distraught state dress, and then he left. No more words.

____

Feyre had thrown her coat and gloves over the table, pacing back and forth to try and arrange her thoughts before her daughter came out. The male she had been with had already made a hasty retreat, looking the most embarrassed Feyre had ever seen a person. His expression looked reminiscent of her dear friend Azriel’s when she had once caught him with Mor, and Feyre felt bad for the boy. He’d scuttled out too quickly for her to say anything, and if she was being completely candid, she didn’t know what she even would say to him if he’d lingered.

I know what I’d tell him, Rhys hissed through their bond.

Five minutes passed before Eleana came out of her room, a bright shade of red with silver lining her eyes. Feyre fixed her widened gaze on her, but refrained from speaking.

“Please,” Eleana whispered. “Please don’t tell father, I can’t bear how disappointed he’ll be in me, please.” Eleana raised a hand to her face and sobbed into her hands.

Feyre looked in on shock at her daughter’s reaction, crying had not been what she was expecting. She thought she was going to have to prepare to fight her blazing daughter, and seeing her little girl crying instead fractured her heart the way only a child could.

“Butterfly…” Feyre approached her a gingerly put her arms around her, the older female tucking her into her side like she was a child again. “He won’t be disappointed in you, he loves you far too much. But I have my concerns. Who is this boy? You seem to be serious with him, and there are precautions you need to be taking.” Feyre eased Eleana away from her and stood with her hands on her shoulders. “You don’t want a child so young, and worse than that if you aren’t aware of his sexual history there are a number of nasty things you can catch. Protection is imperative. I wish you had told me you were thinking about having sex so I could have gotten you the appropriate tonics.”

Eleana sniffled, and wiped at her eyes. “I’m – we’re – being careful. He would never be with me like that if he thought there were any risks.”

“Eleana, who is this boy?” Feyre had never seen him before in her life, and she knew or had seen nearly every Illyrian that lived here in her time over the past century. She had made a point of it, in fact, and was slightly surprised that she did not recognize him at all.

“His name is Kaden. He moved here from another camp a year ago. He had a hard upbringing, his brothers savage in a way that’s hard to comprehend. He had no choice – he left or he died.”

That would explain why Feyre might never have seen him before – although the name Kaden itched her brain as if she’d heard it before. “Are you two serious? Or is he just someone you spend time with for fun?” Either way, Feyre would not judge. She had Isaac when she was Eleana’s age, and every young man and women needs to start exploring themselves eventually. Feyre just wished she hadn’t been here when Eleana decided to do said exploring.

Her daughter scoffed at the question, and removed herself away so she could sit at the dining table. She ran her fingers over it, intently looking at the grains in the wood as if they might magically make her disappear. “I’ve known him for ten months, and in that time have been courting him to the best of my ability. He refused for a long while.”

“Why?”

Refused her? He must be a stupid male to refuse a girl like Laya. He’s too idiotic for her. Rhys was fuming.

Shush, Rhys. Feyre pushed him away with her shields, not hard enough to send him away completely but enough to send a message.

“He’s a bastard of a lord.”

Oh. No further explanation was needed. If he had come from one of the archaic camps then Feyre had no doubt that if he was an honourable male he likely believed himself inadequate for her daughter.

“He caved about two months ago,” Eleana continued. “He saw me fighting with some misogynist dick and decided it didn’t matter what his parentage would do to my reputation, I was strong enough to handle the backlash if I wanted to. And I wanted to, so badly. I feel like he’s intrinsic to who I am in a way that can’t be fully understood.”

Ten months. Her daughter had been swooning for that long and Feyre’d had no idea. That was around the time of Eleana’s kidnapping, and Feyre realised that she must have met this boy before that even happened, before their lives where upended. Eleana’s infatuation explained a lot of her behaviour, and Feyre might need to have a little chat to Felix about what it meant to lie about her daughter’s whereabouts.

“You quite like this boy,” Feyre said. Eleana was talking about him like she planned on having him around for a long while.

“I do.”

“Then you should probably go get him then. I’ll have dinner ready by the time you return.”

Eleana looked up, her face brightening as her beautiful smile graced it. “Seriously?”

“Off you go.” Feyre waved at the door and Eleana eagerly rushed off to find her man.

Feyre wondered if Eleana would be so thrilled when she realised Rhysand was on his way, as he’d heard the whole encounter, and was livid.

____

Kaden wanted to kick himself. He should have realised the moment someone else was in the house, especially someone as overtly powerful as High lady Feyre. It was just that when he was with Eleana there was nothing else – no one else – and until now he hadn’t realised how potentially damaging that could be.

He was mortified. To be caught in such a compromising position was alone enough to make his insides shrivel from cringing so hard, but to caught by the mother of the woman he loved, who would now be forced to tell her parents about him when she clearly wasn’t ready? When he wasn’t ready…

He swallowed hard, contemplating whether to run to Felix, Azriel, or just go wallow somewhere in private.

He chose the latter.

He walked towards his tent, running his hands over his face and through his hair. Fuck. Fuck. More than just the fact that they were caught being intimate, Kaden also resented that now Eleana was there alone having to explain to the High Lady who he was. Now, Eleana couldn’t opt out the way she could before, the way he wanted her to be able to if she changed her mind about being with a lowly bastard such as himself.

He was nearly to his tent, the walk talking twice as long as he was so lost in his thoughts, weighing him down and making his feet drag.

He was about to turn down the small path that led to the tents, when something slammed into his back. He didn’t worry, not when he saw Eleana’s hands clutch around his middle and felt her press a tender kiss to the space between his wings. His face, even after all this time, turned red as he blushed.

“Eleana, someone might see.” He smoothed his hands over hers so she would release him, but she clutched tighter.

“I don’t care,” she scoffed. He turned so he was facing her, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, smoothing her hair back behind her ears and resting his hands on her cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” Maybe she snuck out to avoid the wrath of her mother – it sounded like something she would do.

“She doesn’t care.” Eleana moved away from him but clasped his hands in hers. “Come home with me, and let’s have that dinner I promised.” She started dragging him back to where he had just come from.

“Eleana, I need more of an explanation than that.” His words may have been serious, but just the sight of her while he had been having such tumultuous thoughts had set a wide grin on his face.

She didn’t stop walking. “I explained who you are, and she doesn’t care that I didn’t tell her sooner or that I’m with you. She just wants to meet you, and know that I’m being safe.” Just short of the turn that would make him face her house clearly but from a distance, she slowed. “I know this is sooner than we anticipated, and I’m so, so nervous, but I have you. And I know my mother will love you just as much as I do,” she said earnestly.

“You think she’ll approve of me?” he asked in response.

“Definitely. With that smile and those dimples she’ll be as lost a cause as I am.”

“You’re not worried at all?”

She squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Not with my mother. My father though… we’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

They turned the corner, and Eleana halted, her eyes widening in something just falling short of fear.

It seemed that time had come.

Kaden’s pulsed started racing quicker as he saw Eleana’s home engulfed in darkness, and not her sweet, lovely kind. Even from where he was he could feel the rage that was fuelling the blackness that weaved in and out of windows and doors, simmering through every crevice and swirling back in again. It was like a storm cloud during a hurricane had wrapped around Eleana’s home, and he was fucking terrified.

Her hand moved to grab his shirt, and she pulled as though she might very well try to fly away with him in tow. Before she could move another step though, her front door opened to reveal the High Lord in all his unglamoured glory.

Kaden had only seen the High Lord in person once before – but again, Eleana had been there, so he didn’t take too much notice. He hadn’t even remembered to bow.

Eleana hesitantly smiled at her father, and knowing there was no escape now, they started walking toward the house.

The High Lord was the most intimidating person Kaden had ever seen. He was tall, not as tall as Kaden but he stood in a way that made it seem like everyone else was an ant to him. He was wearing a fine suit, dark material with silver embroidery, and his shoes were polished so well Kaden would likely be able to see his reflection in them. His hair was the same hue as Eleana’s – a blue so dark it was mistakenly seen as black, and his eyes were the same intense shade as his daughters. The most notable thing though was the horrific smirk on his face, more a strategic baring of teeth, aimed directly at Kaden.

“Father, what are you doing here?” Eleana asked as they reached the house proper.

The High Lord’s smile became gentle as he looked at his daughter. “I came to see you, Butterfly.” His face and tone blanked. “And him.”

Eleana tried to meet her father’s gaze, but the High Lord was too busy sneering at Kaden.

“Be nice, Papa,” she whispered to him.

“I’ll be the most gracious host the boy has seen. Please, both of you, come in.” The High Lord marched into the house, Eleana grasping Kaden’s hand before they followed.

The food Eleana had for them was nowhere to be seen, but High Lady Feyre had prepared something else. It was a simple roast with steamed vegetables, something that could only be cooked that quickly with magic. She had set the table for four, and ushered Eleana and Kaden to sit in seats next to each other, with the High Lord directly across from Kaden.

He’s not normally this menacing, Eleana projected into Kaden’s mind.

Honestly? He’s not acting as stubborn as you sometimes do, he joked to try and lighten the mood.

It worked, illustrated by the slight uptilt to her lips, and that was enough for now.

“Let’s chat, shall we?” Rhys picked up a knife and sliced it through the roast, staring at Kaden as he did so.

“I should introduce myself,” Kaden said. He gave them a basic rundown of his life: he was the bastard of a lord across the Steppes, moved here a year ago, when he had met Eleana, so on and so on. He vaguely mentioned that he trained with the Elite, but didn’t go into detail. As soon as he said it though, something flickered in the eyes of the High Lord that he didn’t know whether to be cautious of or not.

“The Elite? You know our nephew, Felix, then.” High Lady Feyre pointed out, much more pleasantly toned than her mate.

Kaden nodded. “I know Felix quite well.” Kaden looked to Eleana to see if he should divulge more, but she was staring at the table, pushing her food around but not eating any of it. “I would say we’re actually quite close.” Kaden decided there was no point not telling them at this point. If he was now going to be a public figure in Eleana’s life than it was inevitable that his brotherhood with Felix would be revealed.

“Is that right.” The High Lord was doubtful.

“They are,” Eleana finally chimed in, albeit quietly. “Felix considers him a brother; he’d do anything for him.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push the matter further. “We’ve established who your father is, but what of your mother?”

Kaden swallowed hard. He felt a finger tap against his own, and flicked his eyes to see that Eleana had linked their pinkies in silent support.

“My mother was a fae from Hewn City. She… died, soon after my birth. I don’t remember her. As a half-breed, you can imagine that I wasn’t allowed in the city for long, and my father took me in as an infant.”

At that, the High Lord’s tense face changed. He shared a look with the High Lady, who said, “My own mother died when I was very young, and Rhys’ was also taken far too soon. It’s not an easy thing – growing up without a mother. Were you close to much of your family?”

As Kaden looked at the High Lady, he realised that she was not someone he needed to be afraid of. Of course, if he ever hurt Eleana that would be a different story, but he didn’t plan on doing that. She was being kind, almost gentle with him, and it made him wonder what Eleana may have told her in those minutes right after he had fled the house.

“I had one cousin, Talysa, that treated me fairly. But it was not until I came here that I felt for the first time what it was like to have a real family, and people who unconditionally cared about you. Felix has been amazing, right from the very first day. Stubborn as anything, but a very loving sort of stubborn.”

The High Lord laughed at that, his whole being becoming brighter. “That reminds me a lot of my brothers Cassian and Azriel. Az was so quiet when he first moved in with us. By then Cass and I had already established these weird habits of dealing with each other, but then Az came and just threw us off completely. After that we were inseparable, and bloody Cass would never stay out of people’s business, especially Azriel’s.”

Remind you of anyone? Eleana snickered to Kaden.

His only answer was a smile, and he continued listening to the High Lord.

“… and Azriel didn’t even care! He welcomed the attention! I caught my mother tearing up on multiple occasions, and we, so young but nearly the same height as her, would crowd around her to see what was wrong but she was just happy.”

The High Lord smiled.

And that smile was everything Eleana was. The light she had as an intrinsic part of her had been taught to her by her parents. He could see it in the way they smiled, the way they laughed. The High Lord looked at High Lady Feyre the way Kaden had seen Eleana looking at him countless times.

Ten minutes ago, he had not been ready. He was now. For it all.

_____

The rest of the night continued rather pleasantly. Rhys warmed to the boy, even though there had been multiple occasions where he’d screamed at Feyre through the bond for referring to this male as their daughter’s partner. Rhys still cringed at the term, but he wouldn’t eventually. Maybe. He’d see. It would take time for him to get the idea out of his head that this male wasn’t just trying to take advantage of Eleana.

There was also something about the boy that irked him in a way he couldn’t properly describe. It was an unwelcome feeling of familiarity, sparked by his name and by, weirdly enough, the shape of his nose. It had set Rhys on edge the whole evening, despite it being a somewhat pleasant one.

Their meal had long been finished, and they all shared equally tired looks, especially Kaden. Most notably though had been Eleana’s silence throughout the whole meal. She rarely spoke, and when she did it wasn’t in her usual rambunctious way. Rhys was desperate to talk to her, to get some answers on why she had been with this man for so long and hadn’t told him, but he wanted to wait until they were alone.

As Kaden got up to leave, he bowed deeply and thanked Rhys and Feyre for the night. Rhys watched the boy walk his daughter to the door and press a sweet kiss to her cheek, his eyes locking on hers as his thumbs lightly brushed her cheeks. Rhys had seen that look before. The two were having a conversation through their minds, and although Rhys was curious he didn’t invade their privacy by trying to listen in.

Kaden left, and Rhys found himself relieved when he did. The boy was nice, there was no doubt there, but for Eleana? For his little girl, the one who as a child would chase butterflies, dance through the Rainbow, the smartest, most beautiful young women in Prythian… Rhys did not think this boy enough for her. Although in the boy’s defense, he thought no one good enough.

Feyre grabbed his shoulders from behind and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to bed.”

You better not leave before telling me goodbye, she ordered him through the bond.

He acknowledged her with a nod, but didn’t take his eyes off his daughter.

He knew this day would come, the day where she started claiming men and owning her body, but even after seventeen, nearly eighteen, years of life he still saw the baby that would blow kisses at random people in the street and wave at anything that moved. Rhys didn’t know if he was able to let those images go, if he was willing to accept that she had grown into a person he as no longer completely familiar with.

Once upon a time, there was not a thing he didn’t know about his daughter. But he had been gone for too long, and there were pieces of her scattered across this camp – a whole other life – that he could spend the rest of his time trying to collect and still have pieces missing. Was this something all parents faced? Cassian never spoke about Felix like this, but then again, Felix was very different to Eleana.

Rhys spoke her name softly, and she responded with a deep shudder that ran through her body and a supressed sob.

Rhys’ eyes widened in alarm and he was at her side instantly, holding her tightly against him. She put her arms around him and squeezed, the way she used to when he was there when she woke up from nightmares and couldn’t stop crying.

“Please, please don’t be mad at me,” she hiccupped. “I know you’re disappointed in me and I know you’re mad, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t ready.”

Rhys brushed back her hair and shushed her. “I could never be disappointed in you, I love you too much. I’m just surprised, Laya. I had no idea this was going on, and I don’t like that there’s this distance between us.” The emotional distance, but also that she was so physically far away.

Rhys took a deep breath. “I think it’s time for you to come back to Velaris. Permanently.”

Eleana stilled. “Excuse me?” She moved back from him, over an arms-length away, and the chest fallen girl from moments ago was gone.

“There is no reason to continue being here. You’ve learnt all you can from the Illyrians, and it’s time to come home now.”

Eleana blanched. “Is that right?”

Rhys could feel Feyre listening in from the other room, tapping on his mind every now and again to remind him she was there observing.

“You’ve always missed Velaris, and if you were home around the fae-”

“Oh fuck off.”

Rhys was taken aback by her language, but she continued too quickly for him to scold her for speaking to him like that. Usually, he wouldn’t have minded, but right now he wasn’t in the right head space.

“You don’t want me home so that we can be reunited as a family, you want me home so that I’ll always be under the watchful eyes of my aunts and uncles and so I can’t pursue this very real thing between Kaden and I. That’s bullshit, and you know better than to try and force someone’s hand like that.” The air around the two started to simmer with wrathful magic, darkness leaking from both of them.

“This has nothing to do with that boy.”

“His name is Kaden.”

“This has to do with needing all my family back in Velaris. This isn’t new to you, Eleana, I’ve already expressed that I wanted you home and away from here. I know this may hurt now, but if this male is the one for you it’ll work anyway. And if not, there are plenty of fae in Velaris to choose from when you’re older.”

That sparked a rage in her so monumental that she screamed, “You have no right, none, to dictate these things! As much as you deny it, that you hate to admit it, I am not a little girl. I am a grown woman, and nothing you can do can take me away from the man I love.”

“I’m not going to steal you away like some monster-”

“And yet that is exactly what you are implying! If you take me away from Kaden, from the person I love and trust with my heart and soul, then you are no better than High Lord Tamlin when he tried to take mother from you,” she sneered.

Cauldron, Rhys didn’t even know she was aware of that.

Feyre was knocking on his mind again, urgently asking if he needed help. At this point, both he and Eleana had filled the room with thunderous shadows filled with an electric static. Rhys declined her request, mostly because he was two seconds away from just grabbing his daughter and winnowing back to Velaris.

He took a step toward her, but stopped.

Everything did.

He saw Eleana, so strong and yet before his eyes she crumbled into herself and fell to her knees, her cries no longer indignant but tortured in a way he had never heard before. No nightmares, no pain, had ever made his daughter cry that way she was now.

He banished his darkness, and dropped to the floor next to her. He pulled her to his chest tightly, his hands shaking from worry. He wanted to ask her for an explanation, was about to apologize a million times over for what he’d said and how outrageous he had been, but before he could she spoke words he never thought he would hear.

“He’s not just some boy,” she choked. “He’s my mate. He’s my mate and he has no idea but I knew the moment I saw him.”

At that, Feyre stormed out of the room she’d been eavesdropping from so she could also lower herself to the floor to bundle Eleana in her arms. “Never. You will never have to leave him. Everything will be okay. We’re sorry.” Feyre kissed the top of her head. “Since your father is so lacking at explanations,” she glared at him over Eleana, “he forgot to mention that we had already decided to seriously consider coming back to Velaris. All this means is that once young Kaden has finished the Bloodrite, we would like him to come too. He is half-fae after all, it’s time he discovered the other side to his heritage.”

She looked up at them. “You understand?”

“Of course,” Rhys and Feyre both said.

“I’m just – I’m so frustrated. I don’t want to tell him. I want him to realise on his own. His whole life, he’s never had any choice in what happens to him. But he can choose this, choose me. And I know he will, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t know it’s one hundred percent of his own volition.”

Rhys looked down at his daughter, and in this moment recognized more of himself in her than he had in years. He knew exactly how it felt to have a mate you love endlessly who isn’t aware of your bond, and he wished more than anything she had told him so he could have supported her through this time.

“I can’t leave him.”

“I know,” Rhys whispered to her.

“I love him.”

“And that will be one of the greatest joys in your life, Butterfly, and I’m happy you found it so soon.” Feyre looked at Rhys again over their daughter, no worry to be seen but instead unfiltered relief.

_____

It took a few hours, but eventually Feyre and Rhys calmed down their daughter enough for Rhys to feel comfortable leaving. His head was still spinning, and he knew where he needed to go to be righted.

He flew into the atrium of the House of Wind, winding through the corridors and halls before he made it to Cassian’s office. He knew his general would be working late, they were on the cusp of a major weaponries trade deal with the Continent, and Cassian had been meticulously going over the details for days now.

Cassian was there with his infant daughter slung across his chest in cloth, rocking her gently as she whimpered the way all young babies do late at night.

“Things not go well with Feyre?” He smirked. Cassian knew Rhys was meant to be away with his wife.

“The night definitely didn’t go to plan.” Rhys sighed heavily through his nose.

Rhys didn’t understand how Cassian could be so effortlessly good at parenting. Rhys once thought he was quite good at it, but after the spectacle tonight he was doubting himself. And here Cassian was, juggling three children like it was nothing. Felix was an amazing young man, Quathryn sweeter than the finest candy Velaris had to offer, and little Thea a blessing from the Mother.

“I need your advice.” Rhys pulled up a chair in front of Cassian’s desk and rested his head in his hands.

“Need help in the bedroom? Thought so.”

“Oh fuck off.” Rhys said, unconsciously mirroring his daughter’s words from earlier. “Something major has happened.”

Cassian studied Rhys in concern: the dark under-eyes, the slumped shoulders, the crinkled clothes. “What’s going on?”

“Eleana – Eleana has found her mate.”

Cassian lurched in surprise. “No fucking way.”

“Yep. I handled it terribly. I feel like an awful father.”

“How do you know?”

“She confessed it after Feyre caught her… with the boy.”

Cassian immediately knew what Rhys meant when he said with the boy and cringed in sympathy.

“Have you ever met or heard of a male named Kaden in the Elite? He said he was close to Felix, but he could just be saying that to try and impress Feyre and I.”

Cassian’s eyebrows rose in recognition. “Kaden? We literally spoke about him last week.”

“What?”

“That’s the young male I suggested we move to Velaris for political training so I might one day have him as an ambassador, diplomat or general. And he’s not lying about Felix; the two are like brothers, just like us when we were young.” Cassian voice was laced with shock. “I shouldn’t swear in front of Thea, but holy fucking shit Rhys.”

Rhys did remember the conversation he’d had with Cassian, and it had been basically an hour of him giving a glowing recommendation for this one soldier he desperately wanted in Velaris and under his wing.

“He’s an extraordinary young man, and the things he and Felix will do when they’re older will change the world. I have complete faith in him. And I can’t forget to mention how much Nesta loves him, she has a little bit of a crush. So does Quathryn.” Cassian smirked at Rhys. “I know you well, and however you reacted was probably far more dramatic than the situation called for. But damn, Eleana and him are mates. I didn’t even realise they were together.”

“It’s recent. And he doesn’t know about them being mates either, so keep that information to yourself.” Rhys thought coming to see Cassian would ease his mind, but it only made it swirl harder.

Cassian sneaked a glance around his office, and then leaned forward like he was about to reveal his deepest, darkest secret. By now, Thea had settled and looked like she was having quite the calming sleep while snuggled up to her father’s chest. “While talking to Kaden today, did you notice anything peculiar about his appearance?”

Rhys frowned. “He has an awful lot of scars for someone his age, but that’s about it. And, this is stupid and I fully recognize that, but there was something up with his nose? I can’t put my finger on what it is though. It’s a perfectly normal nose.”

“I’m going to tell you something, and you have to swear on your life you won’t tell anyone I told you. Especially Azriel.”

“Okay.” Rhys replied hesitantly.

Cassian opened his mouth to talk but was interrupted by a dark voice from the corner of the room.

“That’s not your news to share, Cassian,” Azriel bit, coming out of the shadows.

Both Rhys and Cassian leaped out of their chairs.

“How long have you been hiding in the shadows? You scared the shit out of me!” Cassian hissed with one hand pressed over Thea’s ear so the noise wouldn’t wake her.

“Only long enough to see you were about to drop the bombshell I was.” Azriel stalked forward but bypassed them, instead going to the cabinet that held Cassian’s secret supply of whiskey. He poured himself a glass, and turned wearily to his brothers. “Don’t bother filling me in on the day’s events, I already know what happened.”

“You have spies that would know?” Rhys asked incredulously.

“Better. I have a nephew that was there.” Azriel took a deep swig of his drink.

“Felix wasn’t there.” Rhys replied.

“No, but Kaden was.” Azriel ended his statement by tapping his nose three times with his index finger, mirth in his expression.

It took Rhys four beats of his heart to go, “Oh. Oh.”

“If you’re wondering, yes, Eleana, Kaden and Felix know. Also, Mor and I consider him like a son, and we expect you to treat him as such.”

This was too much information for Rhys to handle all at once, and he looked at Cassian to see if he was in the same state of disbelief. Cassian though, didn’t seem too fazed.

“You knew,” Rhys scoffed at him.

“The nose gave it away.” Cassian shrugged.

Rhys joined Azriel at his side and poured himself a very overfull glass, skulling it with barely a cough. The alcohol seemed the only remedy for his sudden dizziness. “My brain hurts.”

Azriel clapped him on the back. “You’ll get used to it.”

#acohad #feysand #nessian #moriel #postwar #post acowar #fanfic #a court of hearts and darkness #acomaf #acowar #acotar

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