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chahnniesroom · 6 months

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for better, for worse

pairing: lee minho x female reader

summary: an arranged marriage is anything but ideal. minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he's lacking, but you haven't exactly been the perfect wife either. a phone call from you leads to a shift in priorities.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst, mention of a car accident, mentioned death of a minor character

a/n: originally this was going to be part of a longer fic, but i will never write that longer fic, so i decided to post it! the name of this fic is what inspired me to create the till death do us part collection. i hope you enjoy!

part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Minho had never really thought that he’d be married before the age of 30. Sure, he knew that his parents would likely expect it of him, but he prioritised work far too much to have a meaningful relationship with anyone. So it’s not exactly a surprise that when his parents announce that they’ve arranged a marriage with you, Minho doesn’t suddenly become an attentive and doting partner. In fact, even a year later, he still hasn’t gotten very close to you.

Minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he’s lacking, but you haven’t exactly been the perfect wife either. Behind closed doors, you seem openly resentful of this whole situation and do your best to avoid Minho altogether.

Honestly, Minho doesn’t blame you. If he thinks about it, which he tries not to, you have it even worse off than him. You’re younger by a couple years and had been in the process of rising through the ranks of your family’s company when you’d been forced into becoming a dutiful housewife instead of an executive.

You had tried at first, texting him good morning, staying up late to wait for him to get home from work, and making sure the staff always had fresh and healthy meals prepared. Minho feels guilty thinking of how often he had brushed you off, but he had just been promoted and a lot of the executives, your father included, were just waiting to see him make a mistake. The overwhelming pressure had led him to spend more nights than not at the office and when he did go home, his thoughts still revolved on the work he had left to do.

You haven’t done anything drastic to express your dissatisfaction yet, but it feels like it’s only a matter of time.

Tonight would be the perfect way to do so. The two of you are expected to be present for an event, one that Minho has been invited to speak at. His assistant, Jiyu, tells him that it’s the opportunity of a lifetime and stresses how important it is for everything to go according to plan.

Minho heads to the event straight from the office and isn’t surprised that you’re not there before him. Even 30 minutes after the event has officially started, he still doesn’t mind since it’s just been mingling so far, something that he knows you detest. It’s when they sit everybody down to start serving the meal that he starts getting impatient, his temper starting to make itself known.

You know that this night is important for Minho and he’s told you multiple times that he expects you to be there. He knew that you had been picked up on time since he’d even sent his personal driver, Jeonghoon, to get you and Jeonghoon had sent assurances that the two of you were on your way.

You're frustratingly convincing though, Minho has never been able to say no to you and he knows that you've charmed all the household staff as well.

He'd texted Jeonghoon once to check where you were, but hadn't gotten a reply and he just hopes that it's because traffic is bad and not because you're plotting something.

When Jiyu pesters Minho about the lack of your presence, he gives in and calls your cell phone. It rings for a while, and Minho is about to hang up when you finally answer.

“Minho!” you say, sounding delighted. Minho is instantly suspicious. “You’re calling me.”

“Where are you?” he demands coldly. “It’s late.”

“I-I tried to call,” you continue to babble. “This time, I was good, really. I remem-remembered to call Jiyu-ssi instead of your phone. She said you were busy and not to bother you. But they needed someone to come help and I couldn’t think of anyone else.”

“Y/n, are you- are you drunk?” he asks in disbelief. If he sounded cold before, his voice is absolutely frigid now. Someone happens to walk by and they look frightened by whatever expression is on his face based on the way that they scurry past while trying to avoid eye contact.

“No!” you deny vehemently, even though there’s still something odd about the tone of your voice. “I didn’t drink anything! They didn’t let me. They won’t let me do anything. They just gave me this thing and-”

“Where are you.”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say plainly.

“What?” Minho stands up from the table, uncaring of the way that everyone swivels to look at him. He had stayed quiet enough before to prevent eavesdropping, but forgets to keep his voice down reacting to your matter-of-fact response. “What happened?”

“We were driving to the hotel,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t want to be late. I- I don’t know what happened. There was another car- they were in a rush too.” You stop to hiccup.

“Y/n-” Minho is at the entrance to the ballroom and doesn’t even wait for the staff to heave the doors open, opting to push through them himself. He knows he's making a scene, but he couldn’t care less about anybody else in the room at the moment.

“He’s gone,” you interrupt, sounding hollow. “Jeonghoon. They couldn’t even get him out of the car. I saw it. Him. What was left. There was so much blood.”

It feels like Minho’s stomach drops right to the floor.

“Y/n-”

He can barely hear your reply, instead the rush of his pulse in his ears drowns out any other sound. He's suddenly aware of how shaky his breathing has gotten, shallow gasps that barely provide any oxygen to his lungs.

“It doesn’t feel real,” you say, subdued. “They keep saying that I was really lucky, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

“Are you hurt?” Minho’s almost afraid to ask.

“Oh,” you sound surprised. “Me? I- Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t worry? Never mind, just tell me what hospital you’re at. I’m on my way.” Minho has forgotten that you're particularly skilled at deflecting questions, even ones that are direct.

“What? No! You can’t leave, you have your speech-”

“Y/n,” Minho says gently. You're starting to sound panicked and since he still doesn't know what your condition is, he doesn't want you to be any more stressed than you already are. “It’s okay, I’ve already excused myself.”

“I know tonight was really important to you,” you say miserably. “I ruined it. I’m sorry. Oh I- Someone’s here, I have to go now. Don't come, please. I’m fine, really. Stay at the event.”

The call ends abruptly and Minho is left staring at his phone.

“Minho-ssi,” Jiyu hisses from beside him. Her heels clack as she tries to keep up with him. Minho's already halfway across the lobby, but he can still see into the ballroom where a number of people are still staring after him. They must think he’s gone crazy. There’s a smile on Jiyu's face, but the tone of her voice is anything but friendly. “What are you doing? They're not finished serving dinner and you have to be on stage soon.”

Minho doesn’t even bother to answer, starting to dial for a car to come pick him up before he realises, dismayed, that he’s pulled up Jeonghoon’s number. He shakes his head for a moment before calling someone else.

Jiyu grabs at his elbow, pulling him to a stop. Even through the layers of his clothes, her nails are sharp pin pricks that dig into the flesh of his arm.

“Minho-ssi, you can’t just leave!”

Minho wrenches himself from her grasp and turns to scowl at her. She stumbles back at the force of his glare for a moment before reaching out again.

“Y/n’s in the hospital,” he explains. That should be enough explanation, but it still doesn’t seem to affect her. "I have to go."

“Tonight is critical if you want to win over enough people for the contract that you’re negotiating. Don’t waste any time worrying about her. If she's at the hospital, there’s nothing that you can do to help Y/n, she’s already being taken care of,” Jiyu says coolly. “Some things are more important.”

Minho stares at her for a long moment.

Jiyu has worked with Minho for a significant portion of his career. Her analytical and no-nonsense way of handling things is part of the reason that he’s been able to make it as far as he has. For the longest time, he had admired her ability to set aside her emotions to make logical, objective decisions.

Now he wonders if she’s just heartless.

Out of the corner of his eye, Minho can see a car pull up to the doors and he makes his own decision.

“Yes," he agrees. Jiyu lets out a sigh of relief and reaches out to tug him back to the ballroom. Minho steps away to avoid her hand. "Some things- some people are more important. I didn't see that before and I won't make that mistake again. Jiyu-ssi, give everybody my apologies that I was not able to stay and then you may go home. Thank you for your service all these years, but I will not be needing you as my assistant any longer."

He doesn't look back.

part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

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modern!steve harrington + mine cause i just KNOW he’d love that song and daydream about a future with his girl listening to it 😭💜

mine (steve's version)

warnings: hurt/comfort, my fingers slipped and put angst

wc: 2.1k+

an: okay i completely goofed here and made this far angstier than you wanted, and did not realize until AFTER it was done. 😭 i'm gonna apply the same logic as miss swift does with surprise songs - since i technically messed up, if you'd like a redo with more sweetness, let me know and i've got you haha 😭 i also just processed you wanted him to listen to the song and that image broke my brain so basically what i'm saying is this one will definitely get a redo haha sorry nonnie <3

It had all started over a stupid fight. A fight that he didn’t even recall how it had started. That’s how stupid it had been.

Steve had been tired, coming home from a long shift at the diner. It had been a shit show for the entirety of the twelve hours that Steve had been there, instantly making him regret pulling a double to cover one of his coworkers who called claiming they had a fever, but that he’d definitely seen posting on their stories about being out for drinks very late the night before. But he wasn’t going to tell his boss that — he’d been there. One too many beers on one of his rare free nights with friends, and he too would call out, claiming something along the lines of food poisoning.

He wasn’t fully lying. That much alcohol probably had poisoned him considering the way he felt like death the next morning.

The coworker wasn’t what had him in a sour mood, though. Nor was it the one elderly couple that had kept trying to have terribly long conversations with him when he knew he had food to run. Nor was it that obnoxiously large group of preteens that seemed to have no self awareness as they’d reeked absolute havoc on the diner for the final hour before closing. No, none of that really phased Steve anymore — he was just tired. He was tired, a bit too easily irritated, and just wanted to sleep.

His plans for the night had been crawling into bed with you, watching some TV show or movie he wouldn’t pay attention to with his head in your lap as your fingers would scratch soothingly at his scalp. His plans for the night didn’t include this fight. If he could have stopped, God only knows he would have.

“They’re going to shut off the water, Steve,” you stress, on the verge of tears at this point. Steve didn’t know if they were from stress, exasperation with him, or if you were hurting from how flippant he’d been since he walked through the door. Regardless, it didn’t matter; seeing you misty-eyed twisted the knife in his chest all the same, “What the fuck are we going to do if they do that? This isn’t something to talk about tomorrow.”

“They’re not going to turn it off tonight!” he shouts right back at you, throwing his hands into the air in defeat, “Fuck, I- what do you want me to do about it? What can I do about it tonight?”

You snap your mouth shut at that, lips pressed tightly to avoid any quivering.

“I just worked twelve fucking hours, I just wanted to come home and relax, I’m not in the mood-“

“You’re never in the mood,” you flatly interrupt him, tone a stark contrast to all the overwhelming emotions prominent on your face. Your voice doesn’t even waver — he knows that whatever you’re about to say, it’s been on your mind a while, “It’s always we’ll talk about this tomorrow, or we’ll figure it out. But we never talk about it. We never figure it out, Steve. We can’t just- You don’t think I’m tired, too?”

His heart breaks a little. You’re right. You’re standing there, still in your scrubs from your own twelve hour shift, and fuck, you’re right.

Things hadn’t ever been easy. Back in high school, there had been the issue of Steve’s parents. After graduation, it had been the terrible decisions of what now. When you two had decided to pack up and get the Hell out of town, it had been the stress of finally dealing with all the uncertainty, all while desperately trying to keep afloat amongst stacks of bills and adult responsibilities neither of you had expected to drown in. Things had never been easy, but Steve didn’t care about easy — he just cared that you’d always been there, by his side, on his team.

Right now, it didn’t feel like you and him versus the world. For the first time, it feels like there’s only you two in the boxing ring.

“This isn’t a competition, we’re… we’re supposed to be on the same side.”

There it was — your voice cracks, and the moment the first tear falls from your eyes, you’re quick to reach up and swipe it away, pretending it never happened. Pretending that one tear wasn’t ripping Steve apart from the inside out.

“It’s not a competition! But Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m suffocating-“

“I’m suffocating you?” the tears are falling more freely, and you make no move to erase them.

That’s not what he meant. At all. He’s only making it all worse. So, so much worse.

“I-“ he starts, but he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to make this better.

He doesn’t know how to fix this.

In an instant, his hands go from threading and angrily tugging at his hair to flaring at his side as he suddenly walks sharply down the hallway. He’s making a beeline for your shared bedroom, doing the only thing he can think of to fix this for you. For tonight, at least.

You’re quick to follow, only two steps behind him, “Where are you going?”

“I’m-“ he pauses, yanking a random drawer open to the dresser, finding himself staring at a pile of your clothes rather than his own. He huffs through frustration and his own building tears, “I’m gonna stay at Eds’ tonight. Give you some space.”

“Give me space?” you laugh back in disbelief, not daring to take any more steps closer to him, “You’re the one who’s being suffocated-“

“You’re not suffocating me,” he stops all movement, hand still on the knob of his drawer. He turns to you suddenly, a new found confidence, “That’s- That’s not what I meant, okay?”

He can’t make this right, but he can’t leave you thinking that’s what he meant. You could never suffocate him — and even if you tried, he’d find it to be the most heavenly way to die. But you didn’t know that, not in this moment, and that was what was currently killing him.

You take a deep breath, one step forward, before asking quietly, “What did you mean, then?”

One last chance. An opportunity to make this right.

“You could never suffocate me,” all the shouting and the frustration has vanished, only softness and hurt left in their places, “Ever. Don’t you ever think for one moment that it’s you. It’s not, okay? I love you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, you are-“ he chokes up, looking into your glossy eyes. He can still recall the way he felt all those years ago when they’d first laid eyes on him. He’s memorized the way it felt, because every time you look at him, it still manages to feel like the very first time, “You are everything to me. You’re- Fuck, honey, you’re my entire future. When I think about the future, all I think about is you.”

You take another step forward. Steve’s own tears now track his own face, his heart racing painfully.

“I love you so fucking much, it’s crazy. And I just- I feel like I’m fucking all of this up. You deserve more than this, and I try to give it to you, but I can’t-“

“That doesn’t all fall on you, Steve,” your hands shake as you lift them, finally close enough to touch him. Each palm rests delicately on his chest and you can’t look him in the eyes, “I don’t want you for your money. Never have, never will.”

He laughs wetly. You’ve more than proven that. When his parents cut him off completely, you hadn’t blinked an eye.

“I want you because I love you. I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington. Okay? I’m so in love with you, I followed you across the goddamn country.”

“Eddie and Robin did too, to be fair,” he reminds you, almost jokingly. All the tension from the fight is quickly fading. His hand drops from the drawer.

“They did, but I guarantee I love you more than them,” you scrunch your nose, almost grimacing before adding, “No offense to them, of course.”

“Of course,” he echoes, slowly reaching up and holding your hands that had been pressed to his chest. You don’t pull back.

“I’m just- it’s stressful. We’re both stressed. Neither of us were prepared for this,” you look him desperately in his eyes, “I meant what I said, though. This isn’t me versus you — I never want it to be us fighting each other. It’s always us versus the problem, okay?”

He nods when you wait patiently for his response, “Okay.”

“And I want you here,” you continue, “I want you here, in our home and in our bed. I want you here, even screaming back and forth with me, as long as you’re here. With me. Go to bed mad at me, I don’t care. Just… don’t walk away.”

You smile through the residual tears, squeezing his hands that hold yours.

Steve thinks about all the examples of love he’d ever been shown. His parents, in a castle of ice. The way the fights always ended in separate rooms, sometimes separate houses. His father storming out to spend the night in a hotel rather than having to be around his mother a second longer. He remembers the way that even with an abundance of money, they were never happy. They never loved each other. A marriage of convenience rather than love. Lasting only out of obligation, not dedication.

He didn’t want that with you. He couldn’t ever imagine what the two of you have being reduced to that.

When he looks at you, all he can see is happiness. All he can feel is that love bursting from his chest. Images of the two of you by Lover’s Lake, the way the waves of the lake had sent shattered and sparkling flares of light across your cheeks as you’d laughed at him as if he was the funniest person in the entire world. All the nights spent over the phone, talking about nothing and everything, desperate to just fall asleep to the sound of each other’s voices. The ridiculous nerves he’d felt on the first date, King Steve shaking at the thought of putting his arm around you because for the first time, he was truly scared of fucking this up.

You made him a better man. You saw everything inside of him that was broken, that he had spent so long trying to hide, and you’d simply sat down beside him with glue in hand, prepared to spend as much time as he needed to piece it all back together.

Go to bed mad at me, I don’t care. Just… don’t walk away.

“I can’t do that, sweetheart,” he finally sighs. Your face starts to fall, but he’s quick to clarify, “I can’t go to bed mad at you. Ever. And we can fight, us versus the problem like you said, all we want but… I don’t want to go to bed mad. I don’t want… I don’t want that. Whenever my head hits that shitty pillow every night,” you both break to laugh, because God, you both really did need new pillows (and a mattress, if you were being honest), “All I want to know is that you’re mine and I’m yours. Sound fair?”

You smile, and it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. It makes all the long shifts worth it as you nod slowly, “Sounds fair to me.”

“Good,” he guides the two of you to the center of the room before he drops your hands from his, sighing and letting his shoulders finally drop, “Then in that case, I’m staying.”

Even with crying tears on your cheeks, you’re still the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. You’re still the best thing Steve Harrington has ever had the privilege of calling his, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So if we’re gonna fight — let’s fight, baby.”

He puts his fists up comically, and you only giggle and grab at them, shaking your head.

“I think we've fought enough for one night,” you mumble, bringing one fist to your mouth, kissing each of his knuckles gently.

Once you’ve placed your final kiss, he quickly placed the hand beneath your chin, lifting your lips to his. He kisses you in quick succession, and between each one, he repeats the sincerest I’m sorry he can muster.

He only stops once you’re smiling too wide for him to continue.

After his lips leave yours one last time, pulling back slowly as he savors it and you, he finally sighs, “I am curious, though — what the Hell are we going to do if they do shut off the water?”

You shrug, “Like you said, we can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Or we can use Eddie and Robin’s shower.”

As it turns out, Steve Harrington was wrong — when it comes to you, he can always fix things.

"brace myself for the goodbye, 'cause it's all i've ever known. then you took me by surprise, you said 'i'll never leave you alone'."

#speak now (ghost's version)#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #stranger things #steve harrington

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solarishashernoseinabook · 7 months

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trick or treat! trick idea: caitlyn's reaction to discovering ferris's attempts to murder halt (after halt has left)

Thanks ace!

This was interesting to write, considering I had to write something very similar for TRR, but I like what I did with this one :D

Caitlyn had barely been able to make it through the funeral without losing her mind completely. Her parents, too, looked ashen-faced – her father, already in poor health, had barely been able to stand during the ceremony. Only Ferris seemed relatively unaffected by the solemn affair, keeping his head down and face blank as the empty coffin that represented their brother was lowered into the ground.

Caitlyn had turned that over in her mind for the rest of the day. Of her two brothers, Ferris had always been the one more prone to bursts of emotion. When their uncle had died, Ferris had wept openly, and he seemed to be greatly affected by their father’s recent illness.

She tried to tell herself this was different. Halt and Ferris were identical twins; the emotional rift that had developed between them in their teens had been hard on Halt because, in his words, it was like losing a part of himself. Maybe Ferris wasn’t able to process the pain of losing Halt, and that’s why he seemed so disconnected during the funeral.

But it didn’t sit right with her. Halt had felt unsafe around Ferris for a long time. He had confided in Caitlyn about seeing Ferris after the roofing tiles had nearly fallen on him. And combined with Halt’s sickness from the clams earlier…

Caitlyn had been staring at the canopy of her bed for hours. Finally, she flung back her quilt, put on her robe, and slipped out of her room.

Ferris’s rooms weren’t far from her own and Caitlyn half-ran there. She heard the fire crackling and saw the light of a candle through the keyhole. She knocked. ‘Enter,’ Ferris said curtly. Caitlyn went in and closed the door quietly behind her. Ferris was at his desk, still fully dressed and writing something. He waved vaguely without looking up. ‘Put the tea on the table there and go.’ ‘It’s me, Ferris,’ Caitlyn said. Ferris looked up with a scowl. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘I just need to know what happened,’ she said. ‘On the lake, with Halt.’ Ferris set his mouth in a firm line. ‘I doubt you could handle it. It was…very difficult.’ ‘I’m not a child!’ Caitlyn snapped, willing herself to stop quivering. ‘Please, Ferris – I can’t move on until I know.’ Ferris sighed, putting down his quill and turning to her. ‘We were salmon fishing. Halt leaned over to untangle his line and fell in the water. I couldn’t get him out in time.’ Caitlyn shook her head slowly. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’ ‘Death often seems random, but—’ ‘No,’ Caitlyn said. ‘Halt was a strong swimmer, and the lake is calm this time of year. There’s no reason he shouldn’t have been able to get back in the boat, or at least swim to shore.’ Ferris only shrugged and turned back to his desk. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to write my speech. Father is officially declaring me his heir tomorrow.’ The callousness of this statement rocked Caitlyn to her core. For a moment she felt only shock; then disgust welled up inside her until she was shaking once more. ‘That’s all you care about, isn’t it?’ ‘Oh, what is it now?’ Ferris snapped, turning back to her. ‘Being king,’ Caitlyn said, her voice quivering. ‘You hated being younger, hated the fact that Halt would have gotten the crown instead.’ ‘My dear, your grief is getting to you,’ Ferris said firmly, his voice nonetheless rising. ‘He saw you!’ she snapped. ‘After the tiles fell! He saw you up there, he saw how angry you were! What kind of person wouldn’t be relieved upon finding out that his twin brother had survived something nearly killing him?!’ ‘Now you’re being ridiculous! You didn't even see what happened that day!’ Caitlyn snatched the penknife from the desk in a fit of rage. Instantly Ferris was on his feet, catching and holding her wrist in a vice-like grip. For a long moment they stared at each other in silence. ‘Halt was a soft-hearted fool,’ Ferris said softly. ‘He let his affection for people get the better of him. All I had to do was tell him I was worried about not being able to handle the boat on my own, saying that I so wanted to get a nice salmon for our poor, ailing father, and he insisted on helping me.’ Tears blurred Caitlyn’s vision and she swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. ‘I’ll tell. I’ll tell Mum and Dad.’ Ferris smiled at her then, but it wasn’t his usual smile, it was Halt’s smile – and all of a sudden she was looking into her dead brother’s face. Ferris spoke again, and now he sounded just like Halt too – he spoke with Halt’s soft cadence, his steady self-assurance. ‘Father’s in such poor health. One more major shock…it could kill him, Cait. Best to just let things lie. Throwing around accusations won’t bring people back from the dead.’ The knife slipped from Caitlyn’s grasp and clattered to the floor. Ferris pulled her into a hug and she tried to resist, but he held her tightly and stroked her hair, and Caitlyn was crying too hard to put up a fight. After what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Ferris let her go. ‘Go to bed, Caitlyn. It’s been a long day for us all.’ Caitlyn turned on her heel and fled back to her room.

#asks #ra #rangers apprentice #caitlyn o'carrick #ferris o'carrick #trick or treat fic fest 2k23

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dawningfairytale · 1 year

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i wonder what it would be like if the whole choir miraculously came back. how do you cope from processing and accepting your death to living again?

they meet penny lamb on the 15th of september, each of them recognising the name from a hauntingly vivid dream they shared the night before.

but it wasn’t a dream. it couldn’t be. it was all real. they died. and they’re here again. what the fuck.

constance blackwood runs to her parents after school and hugs them. there’s nothing wrong with loving them, with being nice. sure, there’s so much more to her than that - her anger, her laugh, her pain, every part of her that makes her complicated and beautiful and worthwhile. but there’s nothing wrong with being the nicest girl in town. there’s nothing wrong with her. not for loving uranium, not for being a teenager, not for making mistakes.

penny lamb, upon talking to the five other teenagers, instantly recognises their conversation. she had a dream the night before, even though she wasn’t in uranium. even though she wasn’t a member of the choir. her elbows and neck aches every time she moved them, her head and forearms seemed as though they lacked blood. she was decapitated on the cyclone, once, but she never boarded it. they all knew her as jane doe, a forgotten name. now she was gifted this second chance, she would be remembered. by everyone, anyone. even if penny lamb was only remembered by herself, it would still be a victory. make a mark on people’s hearts, that would be her first goal. her second was don’t die by decapitation this time.

ricky potts is the most confused. he conceded, didn’t he? granted, that was when he believed only one would return. but still. his life was valuable, even though society looked down upon him. he’s still going to fantasise about zolar, sure, but he’s also going to be that zolarian prophet back on earth. he doesn’t know how much time he has left - none of the choir do - but he can always make a difference.

mischa bachinski has unlocked a new side of himself. rage and passion are twoo sides of the same coin, feeling so deeply for another that justice and care for them becomes your responsibility. but now, he allows himself to be selfish. be introspective. and not just to talia. he looks into himself, the boy he is, rather than being the man everyone expects him to become. he asks for help, for comfort, as he always tried to provide to the others in his life before the cyclone crash.

noel gruber realises the dull tragedy of his life. but even a dull tragedy has ecstasy within it. feelings of unrequited love. oppressed by the leading beliefs of his town for an unchanging part of his identity. a small town cliche. it took him a tragic death to realise the interest of his tragic life. he stops waiting. he starts writing, and continues living. and while the depravity and drama of post-war france is his ideal, maybe a bit of light to balance it out isn’t always the complete worst.

ocean o’connell rosenberg is an absolute fucking mess. if she keeps acting as she did with her second chance, what’s the lesson? that even when a person develops she reverts to her normal self in her original environment? that change is impossible? if she keeps building a life, working towards something, it could all come crashing down in a day. again. but if she stops caring, begins to act like her parents, well, that just shows that no one can break past their upbringing and genetics and no one should ever try. but then she looks out at the choir. her career, that’s fine, she can care about that, she can put work into it. effort for effort’s sake is not futile if the experience itself is enjoyable or helpful. that world, however, pales in comparison to the five people in front of her. caring for them, uplifting them rather than standing atop them, that’s what she wants to do. that’s what the world needs.

“i love you guys. i want to keep getting to know you.”

#rtc #ride the cyclone #everybody lives au #i went in reverse order bc this time it was important ocean was at the end #hopefully i worded myself correctly it’s like 11 here tho so i’m a little messy #point is #i like this concept but please let me know if you think any part of it is shit i want to keep working on it and improving it #constance blackwood #penny lamb #ricky potts #mischa bachinski #noel gruber #ocean o'connell rosenberg #im not incorporating legoland in here i’m sorry idk enough about researching it nor do i personally care to (at this point)#i like hearing stuff ab it!!! just not doing anything with it #ig if you wanted to you could add smth to penny’s ab wanting to be known for more than her parents crimes #but yeah here’s my brain rot enjoy

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missingn000 · 1 year

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i would love to hear your geto and higuruma thoughts. but also anything about kashimo. mahito and nanami? toji and higuruma? considering higuruma did try to kill nanami because of his association with toji.

WDFGHJ yes i love all of these...i'll pick getou & higuruma for this ask but if you want me to talk more abt kashimo or any others feel free to send another message too!!

getou and higuruma: self-worth, objectivity, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

analysis below cut!

higuruma and getou have such an interesting dynamic to me because they're not close, persay, but they do care about each other, despite how they met and the emotional distance between them.

higuruma has a perspective of getou none of the characters in the ff or getou fam have -- getou's children all obviously revere him and therefore have trouble seeing or processing his flaws, while the ff kids opinions' of getou all mirror their parents' views of him due to him being their friend and trying to save him from himself. higuruma isn't exactly trying to save getou from himself the way the ff is, because he's not trying to stop getou from enacting his plans, but he is trying to get him to stop being so damn self-destructive.

as higuruma told nanami, he's tried to give getou advice about how to stop messing up with yuuta, even though it leads to arguments. he challenges getou's decisions even when no one else in getou's group dares to try. when getou complains about electricians potentially coming to the estate, higuruma offers to "take care of" (read: kill) them in getou's place, not because he agrees with getou, but because he thinks he should be responsible and stay with his kids.

he's not scared of getou, nor does he revere him. albeit through the haze of his own breakdown, he has the most objective view of getou out of anyone. he was able to see through getou's phony act instantly upon meeting him due to his previous experience with criminals and the way they think. he's immune to the cult leader act, despite being his right-hand man.

higuruma knows getou, far more than either of them would care to admit. he's the one who understands and sympathizes with his logic the most -- even more so than nanami, despite that nanami has had similar doubts, because higuruma actually followed through on those murderous feelings.

higuruma and getou both have extremely low views of themselves -- while getou often claims he's simply a vessel for his ideals, we know he still sees value in himself as a parent to his children and a protector of his friends. conversely, higuruma has no self-worth at all, considering himself a failure in all his previous goals and now living what he believes to be a meaningless existence. while characters outwardly acting as if they don't care about something is often a cover-up for something deeper, higuruma truly does not care what getou did to him because he doesn't think he, or anything else, matters.

but still, there's a tension between them that's surprisingly one-way. as has been hinted at, getou does feel a not insignificant amount of guilt for what he did (or allowed mahito to do) to higuruma. getou often invites higuruma to spend time with his family because he knows how lonely he is and how empty he feels. however, he held no beliefs that this care was reciprocated. he actually couldn't fathom it -- after all, who would care about someone who essentially used them for human experimentation?

and that's why hearing what higuruma's last words theoretically would've been was so world-shaking to getou:

"Before you kill me, promise you’ll give my boss a final message. Tell him this isn’t his fault. Knowing him, he’ll just blame himself."

because higuruma understands getou, he knows how getou would've reacted to the news of his death. honestly, it truly would have been getou's fault; seeing as if getou hadn't turned him into a sorcerer, the fight never would've happened. higuruma knows this, but he still wanted to protect getou's feelings, because he sees the care getou is extending to him, even if he doesn't know how to reciprocate yet.

as the story progresses, they'll continue to get closer and their dynamic will evolve, especially as higuruma slowly gains a sense of purpose after meeting nobara. i'm excited to write more of them!!!

#this took a while to turn from insane ramblings into semi-coherent thoughts. hope it makes sense #tpg

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kudosmyhero · 5 months

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Legends of the Dark Knight (vol. 1) #66: Going Sane, part 2: Swimming Lessons

Read Date: April 19, 2023 Cover Date: December 1994 ● Writer: J.M. DeMatteis ● Penciler: Joe Staton ● Inker: Steve Mitchell ● Colorist: (Digital Chameleon) ● Letterer: Willie Schubert ● Editor: Archie Goodwin ◦ Jim Spivey ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● ugh, Joker kissing on the cover. despite Harley Quinn and all that, I always feel a little weird seeing Joker kissing someone. he seems like such a deeply unsexual being to me. ● has it been three weeks-ish since the end of the last issue?? ● my heart! poor Alfred looks so lost! ● carrying the groceries to her place is one thing. coming inside and putting the groceries away for her is way overstepping, considering you two literally just met ● unless Alfred is using all his skills to make excuses, surely Bruce Wayne’s absence has been noticed. well… the man does leave the country often enough. maybe Alfred just has to say that he’s in the Alps again or something. ● the Bat-signal goes unanswered… ● this B-story with Rebecca and Joseph is sweet. too sweet to last… ● Joseph Kerr… ● gah, I wanna give Alfred a hug!

● I wanna give Gordon a hug, too. Bat-signal unanswered yet again. ● Batman returns! the smile of Alfred’s face <3 ● the art style still isn’t my favorite, otherwise it might have been a 5-clapper ● 👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: Three weeks have passed since the Joker kidnapped Councilwoman Elizabeth Kenner. Captain Gordon is in his office watching the news. Reports of a brutally beaten and strangled body being fished out of Gotham Bay are followed by Kenner making comments about Captain Gordon, taking him to task about not apprehending the Joker as well as the unknown fate of Batman. While looking at a picture of Joker on the Batcomputer, Alfred also wonders if Joker indeed killed him.

Joker has been living in an apartment in Park Ridge, the very same site as his bombing, since his last encounter with Batman. He has deluded himself into inventing a generic name for himself, Joseph Kerr, and that he just moved to Gotham City from someplace he cannot seem to remember. He has himself believe that he just lost his parents, his apartment paid for by an inheritance from their deaths, supposedly has a job working for an accounting firm, and is taking medication for his skin condition, living life as an average everyday guy. He immediately bumps into a pretty young woman from across the hall named Rebecca Brown and the two are instantly attracted to one another.

Weeks pass and Alfred still wonders if indeed Batman is dead, while Gordon continues to hear Kenner's harsh comments towards him and Batman's fate, as well as keeping the faith by having the Bat-Signal lit. Joseph and Rebecca have become a happy couple who enjoy the same things such as old comedic reels and radio shows from the 1930s and 1940s. However, kinks start to appear in the sanity of Joseph as he suffers from horrible nightmares and comes across various links to his former life as Joker.

The body in the bay is identified as Dr. Elias Bruckner; a plastic surgeon who specialized in new faces for criminals. His being seen for the last time with the Joker right after the Comedia Theater was destroyed further fuels rumors of Joker still being at large in the city as well as Batman being dead. On the television news, the tension between Gordon and Kenner becomes white-hot, while Alfred tries his best to tend to the manor. Joseph is watching this same newscast, which causes him to become angry, almost hitting Rebecca in the process. He is able to stop himself from going through with it, but runs out of the apartment and into the elevator, giving in a little to his former persona. Gordon finally turns off the Bat Signal one night.

More weeks pass and Rebecca wakes up to a room of flowers and a happy Joseph, who proposes marriage to her. An ecstatic Rebecca accepts his proposal. Unable to sleep, Alfred descends into the Batcave when suddenly a familiar voice calls his name. He turns to see Batman who proclaims his return.

(https://dc.fandom.com/wiki/Batman:_Legends_of_the_Dark_Knight_Vol_1_66)

Fan Art: The Joker's Calling Card by No-Sign-of-Sanity

Accompanying Podcast: ● Batbooks for Beginners - episode 12

#dc #dc comics #my dc read #podcast recommendation #comics #bruce wayne #batman #comic books #fan art #fanart #podcast - batbooks for beginners #legends of the dark knight

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nova-devlin · 2 years

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Nova’s Semester

So I actually haven't finished the vampire diaries because Netflix got so expensive lol I got to about the 8th episode of season 4 so I’m sure some of the things I say aren't going to be accurate in the show, so I just wanted you, readers, to know that this doesn’t really follow the timelines. Also, nova doesn't know about the vampires or anything of the sort, she's a little clueless. Grammar mistakes were made.

Warning: swearing?, Mentions of weed

Eventual: Elijah Mikaelson x OC, Niklaus Mikaelson x OC, Kol Mikaelson x OC, Rebekha Mikaelson x OC, Finn Mikaelson x OC

Ending: Mikaelson Family x OC

Words- 2912

Chapter 3

Nova is practically sprinting to her first class, looking between her schedule and the halls to make sure she didn't run into somebody. ‘First period, first period’ she said over and over in her mind looking back down at the paper she slows to a slight jog so she can see the paper better.

Student Name: Cassanova Azul Gilbert

Alias: Nova

Sex: F

Age:18

Period 1: World History-Room 104

Teacher: Alaric Saltzman

Period 2: Economic Development- room 120

Teacher: Scott Carter

Period 3: Calculus-room 111

Teacher: Lois Ross

Period 4: Physical Education-Gymnasium

Teacher: Finn Mikaelson

Lunch AB

Period 5: Foreign Language- room 109

Teacher: Jane Allen

Period 6: Free period

Period 7: Homeroom- room 102

Teacher: Finn Mikaelson

Nova only has enough time to process the first couple of classes before shoving the paper into her bag and rounding the corner to room 104. As she walks up to the door her nerves are running haywire and she feels like she's about to explode. She opens the door and steps inside and is immediately stared at by everyone in the room. She can start to feel the room close around her, until she hears a familiar voice, one that brings her immediate comfort. “Hello, may I help you?” When she looked up to put the man to the voice, she's internally grateful he isn't being anything but her teacher at the moment. Alaric Saltzman was another person she held dear. Alaric helped her through losing her Aunt Jenna as her death also hit him hard as well. When Nova heard she had died in a car accident just like her parents she was numb, she lost another family member to a car accident, and it hurt. She could only imagine the pain Alaric went through when she died. So, she was grateful for him and everything he had done for her. Nova lowers her head trying to cave into herself to try and make herself smaller. She walks up to his desk and hands him her late slip, he takes it from her and takes the opportunity to lean over to whisper in her ear “You, ok?” She rises up a little to give him a nod, he gives one back, and leaning back up he talks to her as a normal student. “Alright, there's an open seat in the back row or one in the front if you prefer, please choose one and we'll get started.” She sent him a grateful look and walked to the seat at the back of the class. “Alrighty then, hello everybody I'm sure you know who I am, at least you should already because I’ve been teaching some of you since freshman year.” The class erupted into a bunch of giggles and snorts. As Alaric Continues on through the introductory lesson, she opens her bag to get everything she needs, her crumpled schedule falling out of her backpack and onto the floor. The boy next to her noticed this and picked it up handing it back to her “Hey I think you dropped this.'' The boy said. She looked up to see who was speaking to her and she instantly screamed at herself. The boy was none other than Arnold Copeland, a boy who she knew well, and she wished she didn't. “Oh, thanks.” She snatches the paper from him, smoothing it out on the desk as Arnold speaks up “It looks like we have the same lunch.” he says with a smile she doesn't give one back “Yup, looks like it.” she replied. Arnold is a bit of an oddball; he wasn't popular by any means more on the nerd side of the school spectrum. The only bad thing about him, he swore up and down that she was the love of his life. This year was going to be her worst one yet.

By the time third period has rolled around she figures she’s going to have every class this year with Arnold just like every year since seventh grade, given by his and her last name. They're close in the alphabet and that just so happens to be the method used to create the students' classes, every single year. She doesn't know if she would be able to handle Arnold all year long, again. Arnold wasn't the worst-looking guy at the school, but he definitely wasn't the greatest-looking dude. He had sandy blonde hair worn in a pompadour cut, green bugged-out eyes, and the bulkiest glasses she had ever seen on a person. Nova had met Arnold in the seventh grade, at the time she didn't think anything of him, until one day he had asked her to the winter dance the school was throwing. She had to politely let him down telling him she wasn't going to the dance in the first place. Ever since then he tried to get her attention, like when he broke his arm in eighth grade trying to flip off the playground slide to impress her, but it didn't. She also remembers the time in sophomore year, she came to school on valentine’s day and a bunch of “letters” could visibly be seen hanging from the air gate at the top of her locker, when she opened her locker more fell at her feet. She was so embarrassed she remembered picking one up and opening it and immediately seeing Arnold’s face. It was a picture of him in a tuxedo, it was an oddly good picture of him, but it freaked her out to no end. She didn't even open the rest of the letters fearing what she might see, instead picked all of them up and threw them into the trash, and immediately went to find him. When she did she laid into him telling him that she didn't want to be his girlfriend like she had been trying to tell him since the seventh grade. She couldn't wait for the school day to end, and it was only the first day. When the bell rings signifying the end of class Nova all but runs out of the class giving a worried-looking Alaric a small wave.

Nova couldn't have done anything worse to herself than turning in her electives late because she got the only class, she didn't want this year, gym. She hated the entire walk to the gymnasium, she couldn't stand getting changed in front of people, choosing to always go to the bathroom stall to get some privacy. The fact that she also had a male gym teacher this year was annoying. She thought all male gym teachers were overactive and boisterous, they always had favorites, she couldn’t think of a single male gym teacher she had that didn't prefer a specific student over others. She enters the gym following the other gaggle of students and to her relief, the bleachers are pulled out far enough to fit a small class. She sees other students already sitting down in just their regular school clothes. She can at least give credit to whoever was teaching this class that the first day wasn't actually a gym day but an introduction day like everybody else. As she takes her seat, she decides to take out her schedule to see just who was teaching this year. She figured she would see the name Donny Hubbard the usual male gym teacher who taught there but next to the teacher information instead she saw a man named Finn Mikaelson. ‘Oh great” she thought, looking around the room she didn't seem to find the mystery man in question recognizing almost everyone on the bleachers. Her head snaps up as she hears the bell give its final warning ring for students to get to class. She then hears the sound of the gym office door squeaking as it's opened, and when her eyes land on the man that is Finn Mikaelson, she is taken aback.

He doesn't look anything like she thought he would, he is not old for one, and he doesn't have a beer gut or weird glasses. He looks refined, gentlemanly almost. As he continues to walk toward the middle of the room Nova can't help but admire the man. He had ashy brown hair with a shorter version of an ivy league haircut with the top swept over to the side. He was rather tall and intimidating, brutish almost, but it confused her. Mystic Falls was a pretty small town where everyone knew everybody, she would have definitely noticed someone like him. When he gets to the middle of the room, he clears his throat and gives a slight smile before he opens his mouth. “Good morning, everybody, how is everyone today?” There was a pause before various students answered at the same time in the same monotone voice, a variety of good, ok, and greats, can be heard before it goes silent again. She can only guess what everyone was thinking, probably the same thing she is, who is this guy? When her attention is brought back to him, he has seemingly pulled out a clipboard from thin air. “When I call your name just respond with an affirmation, please.” When he starts listing off the names of students Nova lets her mind wander. He's most definitely educated, the way he speaks, the way walks, the way holds himself. His accent was most definitely not like anything she had heard before, like a British New Yorker. What kind of guy would become a gym teacher if he knew as much as she thought he did?

The closer he got to speaking her name the more she started to freak out. She just couldn't figure out why. When it was her turn, he looked back down at the paper and paused for a second too long for her liking, then continued on “Cassanova Gilbert?” Nova took a deep breath and coughed out “Here,” he looks up at her and it feels like he is staring straight into her soul his eyes are mesmerizing, a light hazy green color that made her feel hazy herself just looking at them. It made Nova question further just why this kind of guy was here teaching gym of all things. She thinks he'd be a better English teacher than a gym teacher just from what she's observed so far. He looks back down to his clipboard and scribbles in what she assumed was her attendance, he then asks another question. One he hadn't asked any of the other kids “That’s quite a long name Miss Gilbert do you have a nickname you'd rather go by?” all eyes turn to her, and she can’t help but shrink in on herself again because of it. “Um... N-Nova.` She wants to bury herself in a hole when she starts to stutter. He just turns back to his clipboard and scribbles the information down and moves on to the next student. It leaves her with a feeling akin to whiplash, she can't quite explain it. The rest of the gym time was spent as free time talking to friends and comparing schedules. All the kids already loved this teacher for just that decision alone. Nova just decided to grab her headphones from her bag and play some music to pass the time until her next period. About ten minutes before class ended, she decided to look at her schedule one more time to try and memorize it better. When she pulled it out, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Mr. Mikaelson happens to be her homeroom teacher as well, just her luck. After those ten minutes of class were finally done the bell gave its first ring for lunchtime. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

The knot in her stomach decided to stay and make a home in her stomach and she felt like she was going to throw up. It was like feeling nauseous and having butterflies in your stomach at the same time, but either way, it made her uneasy. She decided she wasn't going to eat lunch, even if she tried, she was sure it might end up in the toilet bowl. So, when she left the gymnasium, she walked down a couple halls to her locker to grab her skateboard. She moved with every other student in AB lunch to get out to the courtyard as fast as she could. When the doors were opened, she was pushing herself through the crowd, getting complaints from the students she was shoving but she didn't care. As soon as she broke free from the group she sprinted to the pavement, probably looking like a maniac. She threw her board down as gently as she could at the speed she was going, having thrown it a little too hard it started to roll down the sidewalk. When she caught up to where it had rolled, she instantly was taking off from the school grounds to ride down to the park to try and get away from whatever she was feeling. She arrived at the park and checked the time on her phone. She had twenty minutes until she had to go back. Nova moves down the sidewalk towards the swings and stops herself right in front of the first one. Setting her board in the mulch a few feet from the swing of her choice> She jogged up to it and pulled herself up into the seat. Nova loved to swing even as a kid, it was so freeing being able to fly in the air at the speed of her choice, the height of her choice. Everything about swinging was about what she wanted, in her life she didn't get much of that with Elena breathing down her neck, with expectations the same as her parents did. Jeremy only ever paid attention to her if he wanted to piss her off or when she needed a supply of smoke, or he ran out and asked to share with her. So, she was a tad bit glad about it but sometimes she missed her brother, and he really couldn't care less. When she tried to hang out with him, he always had some sort of excuse to not go. ‘I can't have plans, sorry maybe later.’

“I have homework?”

“Really?”

“…yes?”

She stopped trying after that, figuring there was no point in forcing him. So to be able to be in control of something for once, she loved the feeling it gave her. She sat down on the swing she pulled her headphones from her neck to put them on, before she picks a song though, she sets an alarm for twenty minutes, then she chooses her favorite song, a new one called Back to December by Taylor Swift, she had played it nonstop since it came out

. When she gets done listening to her fifth song, she looks down at the time shown on the lit-up screen and almost keels over at it. Twelve thirty-five it read. She jumps off the swing in a hurry grabbing her board not even bothering to get on it knowing she would have to run in order to make it before class. The thing about running, even if it made her sweaty and smelly, she quite enjoyed the speed, the wind in her face, her hair whipping around it too. It took her three minutes to get to school and by the time she got there, she had one minute to get her board in her locker and get to class. This time though she doesn't have the luxury of a late slip, and just her luck Foreign Language was her next period. She had only ever heard bad things about the woman teaching the class. Everyone told her she was very mean, very demanding, bland, and ruthless. She did not want to get on the bad side of someone with that description. She sprints as fast as she can to her class, getting reprimanded by a teacher for running in the halls but she didn't care.

The second she throws open the door to her classroom the bell rings. The woman at the front of her class whips her head around to look at the culprit of the sudden intrusion with a wicked glare. Nova immediately apologized for being loud and late. The woman just gives her a nod, telling her to take her seat, the only one open is the single desk at the very back of the class, she couldn't be happier. “Hello class my name is Mrs. Allen welcome to foreign language.” Nova knew the second she introduced herself everyone was right. She was very bland and emotionless, condescending. Running her hands down her face she takes out her supplies and waits for the end of this endless torture called High School.

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adamwatchesmovies · 1 year

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The Rage: Carrie 2 (1999)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Why someone would make a sequel to 1976’s Carrie 23 years after the original, I don't know. Even if this had been released at the right time (if such a thing as a right time existed) this is a lazily-conceived, badly made film. The climax is more likely to leave you in hysterics than shivering in terror.

In 1999, outcast Rachel (Emily Bergl) hates life at home thanks to her unloving foster parents. After her best friend Lisa (Mena Suvari) commits suicide, Rachel learns a popular football jock, Eric (Zachery Ty Bryan), feigned love for the dead girl so he could sleep with and then dump her to impress his friends. All the football players are partaking in this game, even the seemingly sweet Jesse (Jason London), on whom Rachel has a crush.

I've omitted two details about this plot to show you how much of a sequel to Carrie it isn’t. The entire film could easily play out without these, leading me to believe (though I can’t prove it) it was written as some other movie and then reworked to tie into the 1976 Brian De Palma film. Technically, The Rage is a follow-up. Amy Irving returns as Sue Snell, now an adult guidance counsellor for Rachel's school. That’s a detail. The real reason this is “a sequel”? Rachel. The young woman has the the same telekinetic powers as Carrie did. With that said, I bet you can predict the entire movie now. The film’s villains are essentially the Spur Posse. Rachel’s going to fall in love with one of them, they’ll have sex, his buddies will ruin everything by telling Rachel it was all a facade, unleashing her titular rage upon them. Cue the blood bath until TRAGEDY! Turns out the love was real. Too bad loads of people are now dead. Too bad for Rachel, I mean. We couldn’t care less about the teens who bit the dust.

While it would’ve left you feeling like you just took a bath in a bucket of grease, this picture might’ve sucessfully told its revenge plot if it had played things smartly. You instantly hate the bad guys so you’re somewhat endeared to Rachel. Unfortunately, writer Rafael Moreau and director Katt Shea fumble this project. Over and over, we're shown clips of the 1976 film. What do they mean? Rachel wasn’t there. These aren’t her memories. Sue wasn’t there either - she left the deadly party before the carnage began. They're included to assure us that there will be blood later and because this film knows otherwise, everyone would leave. While we wait, the picture goes into needless details about Rachel’s powers, explaining their origin in a way that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Picture this. Rachel is going to the jock’s post-graduation party. They’re getting ready to dump this film’s equivalent of a bucket of blood on her when they broadcast the secret footage of her and Jesse having sex for everyone to see. Counsellor Sue has been picking away at this nagging feeling that something’s not right with the teenager. She’s found the girl’s insane mother, broken her out of Arkham Asylum and is bringing her to the party so Rachel can understand why she has mutant powers. As they approach the door, Rachel hurls a fire poker at a schoolmate, impaling him through the head. In the process, she kills Sue. The woman’s death is accidental so it doesn’t tell us anything about how intensely Rachel’s rage burns. Left to her own devices, mom barges into the chaotic house to explain to her daughter what’s happening. Too bad the characters haven’t spoken in 13 years. They're lucky they knew who was who! The exchange that follows means NOTHING because their connection isn't emotional, it's technical.

No fan of the original Carrie could watch The Rage and be satisfied with it. No one who hasn’t seen the original should watch this movie instead. The Rage: Carrie 2 is a picture without an audience. It’s got some unintentionally funny moments towards the end when the gore and violence are supposed to appall us but you’ll have checked out long before then. (On VHS, March 5, 2020)

#The Rage: Carrie 2 #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #carrie #Katt Shea #Rafael Moreu #Emily Bergl #Jason London #Dylan Bruno #J. Smith-Cameron #Amy Irving #1999 movies #1999 films #horror movies #horror films

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awhitehead17 · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022: Day 7 - The way you shake and shiver

Prompt: Silent Panic Attack

Summary: Dick struggles to cope when patrol takes an almost disastrous turn.

Enjoy! :D

He couldn’t breathe.

What makes matters worse is that he knows what is happening, however he also knows that there isn’t anything he can do to stop it from doing so.

Every time his chest expands his lungs feel like they’re on fire. He’s already feeling faint and knows he would probably be curled up on the floor if it wasn’t for the death grip he’s got on the sink that’s helping to keep him upright, sadly the coldness of the ceramic does nothing to bring him away from the edge he's precariously balancing on at the moment. As he struggles to breathe, he could simultaneously hear and feel the rapid beating of his heart inside his chest.

Dick tries to calm himself down, mentally telling himself to control his breathing and get control of himself, however anytime he starts making progress his mind is instantly transported back to five hours ago and he’s forced to start the process all over again.

He almost lost his brother. His baby brother almost died that night and now can’t think of anything else. Tempting fate is sort of their thing, near deaths aren’t uncommon but that doesn’t mean when they occur that they’re easy to deal with, because they’re not.

Tonight had been a close one. Too close. God, Dick can’t even digest the events of what happened and it’s making him feel sick. Not only did they almost lose Damian but it’s the how they almost lost him.

They had been running through the streets of Gotham during a chase. Damian had been out in front close behind the twerp they were after however behind Damian were some of the twerp’s followers, then behind them was Dick and the others. It had been a bizarre chase as the people they were after knew the city just as well as they did. They knew where to dodge and duck between buildings to try and shake them off their tails, while it never worked it did make the chase more frustrating to run.

During the chase while grappling onto the next building, Damian’s line snapped. The kid started free falling towards the ground and if it weren’t for Cass’ quick reflexes Damian wouldn’t have made it. They don’t know what happened to Damian’s line, it’s something they’ll be looking into, but it’s enough of a shock to shake everyone to the core. Damian is fine thankfully, nothing actually happened that caused him any harm. The kid seems to have shrugged the whole thing off and is busily complaining about the mother-henning he’s receiving from the family.

Dick, on the other hand, isn’t fine. He hasn’t been able to shrug the whole thing off. In that moment, when he saw Damian falling, all he could picture was his parents and their deaths when he was at the ripe age of nine-years-old.

He had long accepted what happened, had come to terms with it, but it doesn’t mean that he’s no longer effected by what happened. Every now and again, memories, nightmares and flashbacks dominate his mind making it feel like he’s living that moment again.

Seeing Damian in that situation Dick’s mind has gone into overdrive and now he can’t think of anything else. He almost lost Damian in the same way he lost his parents. He had been helpless back then and this time he had been helpless again. Only this time it’s worse because Dick is bigger and stronger now, he has many tools at his disposal and yet he still had been useless in saving his baby brother from death as he fell.

A broken sob escapes past his lips and Dick instantly slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle any more sounds that might break free. The last thing he needs is someone coming in and checking on him. His breathing hitches once again as he struggles to take in the air his burning lungs obviously need.

Somehow, while he struggles not to completely breakdown, he hears footsteps approaching the bathroom he’s currently hiding in. He had retreated here as soon as he had the confirmation Damian was okay and will make a full recovery given time and lots of physio. The footsteps stop just outside of the door and Dick panics further when he releases that he may have forgotten to lock the door.

Dick presses his hand harder against his mouth and does his absolute best to stop any noises from escaping him, hopefully the person on the other side will simply walk away without entering, the last thing Dick needs right now is one of his siblings seeing him in this state, or worse Bruce seeing him like this.

The footsteps stop outside the door and don’t move for a while, it’s as if the person on the other side is debating about what to do. Much to Dick’s relief they eventually walk away leaving him alone inside the bathroom.

It’s only once the footsteps have retreated that Dick finally allows himself to crumple to the ground. His knees buckle and he falls limply to the floor, only his grip on the sink with one hand is enough to stop him from completely crashing down. Dick turns around and brings his knees up to his chest as he leans back against the bathtub, he raises both hands and covers his mouth with them again to stop any sound escaping, he still can’t breathe right and he could feel how shaky his limbs are.

He doesn’t know how long he spends in the bathroom curled up on the floor having a panic attack. It could be minutes or it could be hours. Eventually though he starts controlling his breathing, through his fingers he forces himself to breathe in before breathing out again.

He repeats the process until he feels himself calm down, his heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst from his chest and the shaking in his limbs has become almost non-existent. He removes his hands from his mouth and runs them through his hair, afterwards he lets them fall limp at his sides as he now feels completely wiped, exhausted from the day’s events and the onslaught of emotions he just experienced.

Knowing he couldn’t hide in the bathroom for the rest of eternity, he gradually forces himself to stand up, once again having to use the sink to support himself, and splashes cold water against his face. No one has to know he’s just had a breakdown in the bathroom. No one needs to know how weak he is, or unstable. He can just pass this night as a blur and try to forget it ever happened. Tomorrow he’ll wake up fresh, find everyone at the table for breakfast in the morning and continue as normal. No one needs to know…

#Whumptober 2022 #day seven #silent panic attack #panic attack #dick grayson #angst #near death experience #hyperventilating #shaking #this is text heavy #dc comics #nightwing #hurt #fanfiction

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laura-ann-review · 1 year

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When I saw the trailer for this movie, I instantly noped out cause nope..that trailer was scary to sit through. I was 4 mins late into watching this but still managed to understand what was going to happen. A story of two young girls are forced to seek shelter in the school bathroom as an active shooter goes around their school, a young boy comes into the bathroom seeking refuge. The three of them go through three different stages of their experience. Vada; goes through fear. The fear of "what's ifs.", the fear of loneliness and abandonment, the fear of struggling to process her emotions. Mia; goes through comfort. Finding comfort in Vada; girl she doesn't really interact with during school (or at least that's the assumption) and feeling like all she has is Vada because her parents are away on a business trip. Quentin; goes through loss. The loss of a loved one, the connection of balancing his grief with Vada's and dealing with witness his brother's death. Even though we don't see the shooter or the 'crime', we still get glimpses of it through sound effects and costume design. I'm going to sound cruel saying this but in some extent this film will date quite quickly with its use of certain songs and use of social media (predominantly tiktok and instagram) but in saying that, it shows the balance of those affected by the tragedy and those who just go on with their lives especially by those who weren't part of it. The storyline will never outdate. For as long as I can remember, I have constantly seen American school shootings on Australian news and it's always a tragedy that I don't understand how America hasn't woken up and realised that losing children in a educational environment isn't normal and someone needs to reign in their gun control. The Fallout gives a different perspective, it's quite confronting and heartbreaking. Even as the movie ends, it shows how this is a reoccurring cycle which just makes it worse. #thefallout #thefalloutmovie https://www.instagram.com/p/Cnqli-Vveik/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#thefallout #thefalloutmovie

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rnelodyy · 2 years

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Something I’ve been thinking about is the reason why Berdly’s death at the end of the Snowgrave route feels so impactful. Why it hits so hard for me, especially.

The thing about Hometown in Deltarune is that it’s meant to do what the name implies: it’s meant to feel like coming home. It’s a place completely disconnected from the Dark World, where there’s nothing that can hurt you. Everyone there knows Kris and is on good terms with them, talking to NPCs nets you insight into Kris's backstory and showcases that they have a lot of history in this town, and even when your adventures in the Dark World change those worlds for good, Hometown remains a constant.

And I feel like the COUNTLESS references to Undertale within Hometown serve to make it feel like home on a meta-level. The people you spent hours befriending in Undertale are here, slightly different, but here all the same. The UI is the same as in Undertale, Hometown’s theme has bits of Snowdin’s leitmotif in it, Asgore greets you the same way he does in Undertale, Toriel’s house has the same reading chair and the exact same musical theme as it does in Undertale, Sans is virtually unchanged and even makes a tongue-and-cheek reference to you, the player, already knowing who he is, the list goes on. Hometown is new to anyone who hasn’t played Undertale, but anyone who HAS will INSTANTLY feel at home in Hometown.

Hometown, in essence, represents the status quo. The monster-of-the-week format of Deltarune means you’re going to get a completely new world to explore with completely different people in it in every chapter, so a feature like Hometown is something that’s sorely needed to allow the player to decompress in an environment they recognize as safe.

And yeah, there are some wider mysteries in Hometown itself (the bunker in the woods, the street blocked off by police tape, Onion-san hearing a song from deep in the ocean, Papyrus’s glaring absence, Kris’s antics whenever they rip the soul out of their body, etc), and I guarantee the status quo of Hometown will be broken at some point, but for now, it remains intact, and functions as an anchor point for Kris and the player.

Berdly’s death shatters that status quo.

You get this a little in certain normal routes too. If you attack Queen during the final fight instead of trying to loosen Berdly’s wires, Berdly will get himself free, but gets horribly electrocuted in the process. When he wakes up in the Light World again, he finds that his right arm, the one that got the shock, is completely paralyzed.

And yeah, a character, a teenager no less, suddenly receiving permanent nerve damage is a pretty big shock, but the thing is, it doesn’t need to destroy the status quo. Berdly will need to learn to live with a disability, but he can still function with one arm, and considering he got it through electrocution, he can reasonably explain it away to any adults asking how it happened. Like, there was a broken wire and he grabbed it by accident and got a shock or something.

But when Berdly dies, the status quo is completely shattered, because the status quo of Hometown as a sleepy little village cannot continue on if a teenage boy is mysteriously found dead in the library. And even if Kris managed to hide his body, or it turned to dust after they left, Berdly would still be missed. He has parents to go home to, he has a job, he volunteers at the library and he still goes to school, people will notice if he disappears.

For the moment, the status quo in Hometown is preserved. People still wander around town like they usually do (there’s a corpse in the library), Noelle still visits her dad in the hospital (she killed one of her best friends), Toriel still teaches Susie how to make pie (someone’s son isn’t coming home tonight), and in the end, everyone goes to bed while Berdly is still Fucking Dead, face-down on a table in the library, or stuffed in a supply closet with the rest of the garbage.

The normal route of Chapter 2 ends with a cliffhanger, sure, but the status quo of Hometown is still preserved. In the Snowgrave route however, it almost feels like the town is holding its breath. At some point, somebody is going to walk into the computer lab and find a child’s corpse in there. At some point, Berdly’s boss is going to wonder why her employee hasn’t shown up. At some point, Berdly’s parents are going to call the police wondering why their son hasn’t come home.

Shattering the status quo of the peaceful hometown is a standard trope in this kind of fiction, and there’s a lot of setup for this to happen near the end of Deltarune, when Asriel comes home. It’s not supposed to happen in Chapter Two. It’s not supposed to happen by your hand. Deltarune has been hammering in over and over that your choices don’t matter, and you’ve just gotten a teenage boy killed.

Chapter 3 with a Snowgrave save can go one of two ways. Either Hometown is thrown into absolute chaos, Kris, Susie and Noelle are subjected to questioning, school will be shut down, and the status quo will be obliterated, or… Nothing could happen. Characters could treat Berdly as if he’s still alive, just busy, or they could forget about his existence entirely. Deltarune’s Snowgrave route overall feels like the game itself doesn’t know how to handle what you’re doing, and just tries to shove plot elements together to still make a cohesive story out of the fucking mess you’ve made, twisting the plot so that Berdly’s death goes unnoticed wouldn’t be a stretch.

Either way, I’m very nervous for what Toby has up his sleeve for Chapter 3.

#deltarune #snowgrave #deltarune chapter 2 #berdly #i have a lot of feelings abt this game #if you couldnt tell

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libraryofloveletters · 2 years

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Love’s Gonna Get You Killed

Chapter Seven: Red Means I Love You

Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

Series Summery: A life long crush on the boy next door leaves you with unrequited love and regret. You wish you could take back the things that happened, to have him be yours. When you reconnect, is it far too late to fix what’s said and done?

Warnings: so much emotional turmoil, emotional pain and suffering, guns, being held at gunpoint, injuries and blood, secrets are being spilt, tensions are on a high, mentions of death, kidnapping, Billy’s fucked up, sped through and edited version of the carousel scene (that scene is brutal, it deserves its own warning), small mention of pregnancy, implied death, implied references to Stockholm Syndrome.

Word Count: 4,355 words

Author’s Note: there's some of the canon + canon dialogue mixed in but I changed some of it to fit the fic :) // I put the actual dialogue from the show in bolded italics! // I barely edited this so forgive any errors

LGGYK taglist // series masterlist

----

The sun peeks through the curtains, the sound of thumping coming from the wall you shared with your next door neighbours.

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep but it felt like an eternity and the knock on the door woke you, had he forgotten his key? That was odd, Frank always had his key.

The thought of it not being him crossed your mind.

Six Months After Leaving

The two if you had stopped somewhere between Georgia and South Carolina recently and had been there for a few weeks, which was odd considering that you moved places every a week or so.

You weren't sure what time Frank had shook you and told you he was stepping out to get something but you fell back asleep as soon as you heard the door shut.

Hence the confusion when you hear a knock on the door. You ignore it, thinking if it's Frank, he’ll have his key but the knocking continues.

“I’m coming!” you shout which you instantly regret because whoever was on the other side of the door knows you’re in there. You slowly walk to the door, peeking through the peephole which does nothing because it’s too dirty for you to even make out who’s on the other side of the door.

Slowly, you open the door and your heart sinks when you see who’s on the other side of the door. Billy stood across from you, he looked miserable.

He looks tired and worn out, somehow worse than he did when he returned home from Afghanistan. “Billy?” you look up at the man in front of you.

He reaches out, his hands cupping your cheeks gently. “I’ve been looking for you.” he whispers, you aren't sure how to react.

Part of you wants to hold him and tell him how sorry you are, that you hope he’ll understand why you did it but the other part wanted to run; run as far away as you could from him because you refuse to face the fact that you left him for your own selfish reasons no matter how much you tell yourself that you did it because Billy deserved better.

Billy didn’t think he deserved better.

For him, you were always the one. There had always been a pull to you from the first day he met you at Frank’s parents’ house. You were the one for him and when you kept going on about how you loved Frank, it killed him inside.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little glad to find out that you were finally moving on after Frank died. It made him feel like he finally had a chance and he thought he was finally going to get that fairytale ending you made him believe in but then you left.

You upped and left him, ripping his heart out in the process.

He isn't sure if he’d ever forgive you or if he'll take you back. Truly, he wasn't even sure what he was doing there but he just needed to see you; needed to understand why you left him.

“Billy, honey, you’ve gotta go.” you take a step back, going to shut the door but Billy’s hand on the other side pushes it open and he steps in, shutting the door behind him.

He looks around the room, there's a few bags on the floor and clothes scattered on the chairs in the room. The bathroom light was still on from your shower earlier. “Is someone else here?” he asks you, walking over to the bed. You shook your head, “just me.” You answer.

“I’m not leaving.” Billy says, sitting on the bed.

“Billy, c’mon.” you pleaded, hoping he’ll leave before Frank gets back.

“You’d think for someone with a six figure bank account, you’d choose somewhere other than a shitty motel 8 hm?” Billy chuckles to himself as he looks around the room once more.

You give him a tight lipped smile, leaning on the tv stand. “Bill, please. You need to leave.”

“What’s the rush? You need to figure your stuff out?” he asks, head tilting to the side as he looks at you. The look on his face breaking your heart yet mocking you at the same time.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that had his name scribbled on the back of it, in your hand writing. Billy unfolds the paper, his finger dragging over the page and tapping somewhere in the middle.

“I just need to take some time to figure out my stuff. I won’t burden you with that and I understand this is abrupt and random but it’s something I need to do” he reads, he gestures to the room before looking directly at you. “Is this what you meant by figuring out your stuff?”

You stand there, frozen as you look at the man sitting on the bed. He looked like he had been through so much in the last six months, running the same thoughts in his head over and over again during all those sleepless nights that are starting to tell on him.

“I just- I want you to wrap my head around it.” he looks down at the paper in his hand. “Was I not enough? I would have given you the world, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.” he whispers, looking back up at you.

His expression was pulling on your heart strings and you cave, walking over to him and crouching down in front of him. Your hands cup his cheeks, pulling his focus to you.

“Billy, baby, I'm so sorry. I know that won’t make up for what I’ve done but I want you to know that I'm sorry.”

“Why’d you leave? We could have worked this out. Do you know how many nights I laid there wondering if it was my fault? Running every possible scenario through my head, hoping that I wasn’t stupid enough to push you away and not even realize it.”

“I had too. I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you, that’s not why I did it-” the door unlocking put a halt to whatever you were telling Billy, both of you looking towards the door.

Frank walks in, his eyes focused on you and Billy the moment he walks in. You’re looking at Frank but then back at Billy who stands. You’re left sitting on the floor as you watch the two men take a step towards each other.

“Is this- are you- you’re really here.” Billy looks at his friend, the confusion evident on his face, fading away by the second before he turns to you.

You're standing now, Billy’s eyes dark and anger written across his face. “You knew he was alive? You left because he’s alive? Is this why you left?” Billy takes a step towards you and you back up, your back hitting the wall behind you.

Frank grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back from you. “Leave her alone, Bill.”

“Get the fuck off of me. Why didn’t you tell me you were alive? Why would you keep that from me?” Billy pulls away from Frank.

“What would you have done ? Gotten me a fucking job? It made no difference Billy.”

Billy shook his head, scoffing. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?” you wanted to say something but it wasn't your place, this was between Frank and Billy.

He looks over at you and then back over at Frank. “Are you two- you are.” He scoffs once again, shaking his head.

“Is this because of what happened to Maria ? You took her away from me because I took Maria from you?”

Frank stares at the man in front of him, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted. “You-” he breathes and the room falls silent.

Frank’s eyes are glued to Billy, his heart pounding out of his chest. He couldn’t tell if he was going to throw up or kill Billy. Did he even hear Billy correctly ? Did he say what he thinks he said?

He knows what happened to Maria.

He was the one that did it.

“Did you do it Bill ? Did you pull the trigger on my wife?” He finally speaks up after a minute.

Billy says nothing, staring at the man in front of him with a blank expression on his face.

You can see them both clearly from where you stood; Frank’s eyes brimming with tears at the thought of his best friend being involved with the death of his family.

Billy’s face expressionless which was an admission of guilt in itself.

“She loved you.” Frank whispered into the silence, his eyes fixed on the man across from him. “The kids loved you.” he adds, his words breaking your heart more with each word.

Bill takes a step back towards you, his back facing you as Frank walks towards him. The two men are facing each other, Frank glances at you for a split second and before you could grasp what he was trying to tell you, there's some movement.

A clatter of noises and you feel yourself being pulled, your back hitting the chest of someone. When you open your eyes, you realize that Billy’s got you in front of him, Frank across from the two of you with a gun in his hand.

Frank takes a hesitant step towards the two of you and you try to wiggle out of Billy’s grip but even with one hand, he's holding you tightly.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her; I did it to Maria, I'll do it to her too.” He says and there's something cold pressed to your temple; the barrel of the gun.

Your mouth goes dry and every scenario playing your mind ends with you dead.

Looking over at Frank, you notice the way his eyes flicker from you to Billy, specifically his torso which you’re standing directly in front of. Frank held his composure; had you not been there, Billy would be dead.

Your words run through his mind; “I’d take a bullet for you, Frank; you know that, right? Even if you were the one pulling the trigger.”

Billy’s arm around you tightens, pulling you closer to him, the gun still pressed to your temple. Frank’s eyes meet yours, tears welling up in your eyes and with the slightest of nods, you give him permission.

He could do what he needed to do.

All you could hope is that you didn’t die because Frank couldn't lose anyone else.

Your eyes close, bracing yourself for what's to come when you hear the faintest click of the trigger and - nothing.

Opening your eyes, you realize the gun had been moved from your temple and the person who pulled the trigger was Billy.

Frank doubled over on the floor, blood spilling from his side. Within the few seconds it took him to pull himself up, reaching for the gun that had fallen from his hand, Billy’s grasp on you manages to get you off the floor and out the door, you’re kicking, screaming and clawing on Billy but he won’t budge.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream, your legs pushed on the side of the car as Billy tried to put you in.

“Stop fighting or I'll have to hurt you.” he says through gritted teeth, attempting to push you into the car. “I really don’t want to hurt you, y/n.” he says and you’re still fighting, screaming for help as you push back on Billy, away from the car.

The sound of whooshing air and then something hits you in the side of the head, hard. You collapse back into Billy’s arms and he pushes you into the backseat.

Frank manages to get up, the gun in his hand as he stumbles out of the door, his other hand pressed to his side. Billy’s already half way down the parking lot by the time Frank walks down the curb.

He fires the gun three times, one hitting the back light and the other hitting right beside the truck. The third one shattering the glass on the back of the car.

Frank wants nothing more than to get in the car and chase Billy until he runs him off the fucking road but he can’t.

Not when the entire world is spinning. Frank’s vision blurs, dark spots taking over the colour and he collapses.

----

2 Days Since You've Been Taken

When you came to in the car, you were sitting beside Billy in an entirely different car, strapped and duct taped to the seat. Now you're in some warehouse in the middle of who fucking knows where while Billy paced in front of you, a gun in his hand.

The rope is fastened tightly around your wrists, each arm and leg are tied to the coinciding arm rest or leg of the chair. The warehouse was empty, the smell of wet cardboard rising by the second.

“Billy,” you call out quietly, he pauses his pacing and turns to face you. “It hurts.” you glance at the rope on your wrist, all the wiggling has causes the rope to rub against your skin, chafing it and leaving it a bright red.

Billy sighs, walking over as he tucks the gun into his waistband. He crouches, loosening the rope barely half an inch, the rope still rubbing into your skin.

“It still hurts,” you whisper, you’re on thin ice. Within the last two days, Billy hadn't laid a harmful finger on you. He had tied you to the chair but he made sure you were taken care of; gave you water to drink, fed you and took you to the bathroom.

You weren’t sure what sort of sick, twisted game he was playing but you wanted it to stop.

Billy grabs your jaw, his fingers under your chin and his thumb rests under your lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.” he tells you.

“But you are.” you tell him softly.

“You know I'm doing what’s best, sweetheart. I love you.” he says, getting up and kissing your head as he lets go of your face.

“If you loved me, you wouldn't be doing this.” and that set Billy off.

He walks back to you, the gun drawn and it rests under your chin, tilting you to look up at him. “You think I don't love you? I would have already killed you already if I didn’t; or is that what you want ? You want me to kill you?” he taunts, you can feel every little movement and you know when he rests his finger on the trigger.

You shook your head, looking up at the man towering over you.

Play nice and he’ll let you go.

Billy pulls the gun away, “I wouldn’t hurt you, even if you begged me.” he states, walking a few feet away. He begins pacing again, checking his watch.

You think back to all the times you’ve seen him do that; pacing in his office while you two go over contracts for hours. He'd pace the bedroom because you’re taking too long to get ready or there was the one time you could hear him pacing outside the bathroom while you sat on the floor, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test.

He fucking kidnapped you and you could have been pregnant with his kid at one point; that’s insane.

The thought of kids causes your mind to flicker to Frank. He had his fairytale ending; marriage, kids and the house with picket white fence; the whole nine yards.

Did Billy ever really tell you the truth ?

Now that you're thinking, anytime Frank was the topic of the conversation, you had brought it up. The night in the restaurant after you had reconnected, you brought up Frank and Billy was the one who told you that Maria and the children had passed and Frank was missing.

He didn’t look for Frank, it struck you as odd considering that Frank was his brother or so you thought.

You had brought up Frank when Billy found a picture of you from your high school graduation. Frank had taken it, you sitting on the hood of his car and your diploma in your hand. You mentioned that you two were trying to decide whether you should go to the park or the beach.

Billy told you about the day he spent with Frank, Maria and the kids at the end of the 2nd tour. They were all happy, one big family from the sound of it.

Frank’s words ringing in your mind as you watched Billy check something on the laptop in front of him; “She loved you. The kids loved you.”

They loved him.

Frank loved him like a brother.

How could he betray them so easily?

What was the point? Had their lives been lost without cause or was there something more to the story? Of course there was, you just weren't sure what.

Before you could ask Billy what had been racking your brain, the phone rang. You didn’t even know Billy still had a phone on him and your first instinct was to scream as loud as you could.

Play nice and he’ll let you go.

Billy answers, the call’s on speaker. “Where is she?” the voice comes through and you'd be lying if you said your heart didn’t drop to your stomach.

Frank was alive.

You thought Billy had left him for dead in the motel room.

“Right here.” Billy takes a step towards you. “Where are you?” he asks into the silence.

“Where are you?” Frank repeats the question.

Billy hums, “only seems right to end it where it started, doesn’t it?” he chuckles to himself. “I’m a full circle kind of guy, you know that Frankie.”

Frank’s voice low, the words harshly spat at Billy. “Painted ponies.”

“See ya there.” Billy hangs up, walking over to you. You watch as he undoes your hands, carefully rubbing your wrists.

“I’m sorry, baby. You know I don’t want to hurt you.” he tells you once again for what felt like the millionth time. You stay quiet and watch as he ties your wrists together before undoing the knot from your legs.

“Where are we going ?” you look at the man and he shrugs. “Wait and see. I know you love a good surprise.” he tells you, grabbing you by the arm before dragging you along with him.

---

You had lost your concept of time rather quickly and you didn’t expect it to be so dark when you got to the park. Billy doesn’t hesitate to push you onto the carousel.

“Get on.” he tells you and you turn to face him.

“Why?” you ask, Billy ignores your question and hoists you onto the pony himself. He pulls your hands up, zip tying it to the pole. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. I know you, you don’t listen to anyone. Anything you say needs to be taken with a grain of salt.” Billy pulls the zip tie, checking that it’s in place.

You ignore Billy’s comment; he’s not wrong but it hurt your heart when he said “I know you.” It just felt so real for a moment, as if he hadn’t kidnapped you and you two were together.

Billy looks at you once more, a small smile on his face before he looks away. He hit the button and the carousel whirled to life; the music playing, the lights flashing and the ponies began moving up and down.

“Frankie! Come out!” Billy shouted, pulling the gun off his shoulder.

There's two sets of footsteps, you can hear that clearly. There's Billy who’s a few feet from you and another set that's a lot further, like they were on the other side of the carousel.

“Guys like us, Frank.. we need this.” Billy calls out over the music. “It’s all we're good for, just a couple of assholes who thought they could have the good things in life.” He takes a few steps away from you, his reflection no longer visible in the mirror. “But we’re not good people, Frank. We never were.”

When Billy begins to realize that Frank isn't going to budge, he makes his way back to you. The gun cocked, the barrel resting right under your chin like earlier in the day.

You make eye contact with Billy; cool and collected was written across his face.

It’s not that you didn’t know Billy was capable of terrible things, as was Frank but you never wanted to believe it. It was stupid of you to think you could deny the things they did but when they were home, they were different people.

They were just Frank and Billy to you.

Not soldiers, not cold blooded killers but your friends, the two men you loved the most in the entire world.

Billy seemed so relaxed to have a gun pressed to you, almost like he was planning this.

You knew somewhere deep down in your heart that Billy would never hurt you, not on purpose at least and you chose to believe that.

“Beg! Beg Frank to come out here or I'll kill you.” the brunette spat, loud enough for Frank to hear.

“Frank!” you muster up enough energy to shout. “Please, just do what he says!” You add, hoping Frank would listen just this once.

“Drop the gun, Bill.” Frank says calmly, walking towards the two of you. You can hear him but you can’t see him which somehow puts you even more on edge. Billy takes a step back and with the gun away from your face, you feel like you can breathe again.

Only momentarily as Billy steps out of your line of sight, towards Frank. There’s some thudding, following by a few rounds flying in various places and you have no idea what’s happening because no matter how much you move, you’re stuck to the stupid pony.

“Me and you, Frankie? We’re the same.” you hear Billy call out to Frank, another set of bullets flying. Once again, there's screaming, grunting and groaning as Frank and Billy attempt to kill each other.

You can’t see and you can’t stop them. It was killing you as much emotionally as it was killing them physically.

Billy groans, getting up off the ground and he’s facing Frank, the gun in his hand before he points it at the man who’s stumbling back to catch himself.

“I never had anyone.” he shouts, pulling the trigger. The bullet hits Frank square in the vest.

Frank grunts, pulling himself back up. “You had us, Bill.”

There’s more struggling, grunts and groans along with painful winces. You hear Frank grunt and followed by a sound you know all too well. You can barely make out the men in the mirror of the carousel; Frank has slammed Billy on to the ground and the two roll over and Billy manages to push Frank straight into the mirror, shattering it.

Billy lets out a painful groan, pulling the shard of glass from his stomach and stumbles back. Frank pulls himself up, kicking Billy down only to pull him back up by his hair and turning him to face the mirror.

Frank slams Billy’s face straight into the mirror, a series of blood churning screams from Billy as Frank drags his face across the glass. There’s a knife pressed to his neck, Billy looks at his friend through the reflection of the broken glass as his hand reaches for Franks.

“Kill me.” he begs, “do it.”

Frank stares at the man for a moment; covered in blood, cuts and bruises. His mind runs back to all they had been through together and he wants to kill him.

Billy betrayed him, betrayed his wife, his children. He had even managed to betray you in the process.

Frank couldn’t forgive him but killing him was too easy a faith for the man who took his world away.

“I'm not gonna let you die today.” Frank pulls the knife away from his neck, his grip still on his hair.

Billy’s eyes meet Franks, “please.” He begs between tears.

“Dying’s easy.” Frank lets go with a push, Billy’s face slamming into the broken glass for the last time.

You can hear the footsteps coming towards you and a few groans before Frank appears. He reaches up to the zip tie, cutting it loose and you drop your arms in relief. Frank’s hand reaches for yours, undoing the knots on the rope around your wrist.

You slide off the pony, Frank leans on the other one and you fall into him. Your arms wrapping around him just tight enough not to hurt him. His hand rests on your lower back, rubbing it gently. Frank rests his arm over your shoulder, your own arm wrapping around his torso to support him. You help Frank off the carousel, walking towards the gate but not before you sneak another glance at where Billy was.

Billy has fallen to the floor, blood dripping all over him and pooling around him with shards of glass sticking out of his face.

Your heart sinks at the looks of him. You loved Frank and you always would. He was your greatest love but Billy; you two had something special despite the last few months.

Billy took a chance on you, loved you even when you didn’t love him and he stuck by your side. He made sure you knew you were worthy, you deserved to be loved like you were the only girl in the world.

It pains you to leave him like that.

He betrayed you.

He betrayed his brother, his family, you.

You couldn’t forgive him no matter how much your heart screamed at you, begging you too.

Frank looks over at you, his brown furrowing as he studies you. “I got you,” you whisper, a hand on his chest. “C’mon.”

-----

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Text

Dead Clown 🤡

Jason todd x reader

Warning: smut, murder but it’s okay.

Jason pulled his helmet off and ignored the rain that poured down his face. He had to see this without a filter. He even considered taking off the domino mask but he was out in the open. The pouring freezing rain had him shivering but Jason was unaware. He literally couldn’t believe the sight before him.

The joker was laying in his back, the pasty skin on his forehead was marred by 2 small holes. The back of his stupid green hair looked almost black when mixed with blood. Blood and water mixed in a pink puddle around his head. Jason forced himself to check for a pulse before hitting his comms.

“Bats, you need to get down here,” he said in a shocked voice. “The joker is dead.”

“..... are you okay,” Bruce said in a measured voice.

“I’m fine. He was dead when I got here,” Jason added knowing he was number one suspect.

“On the way.”

Batman and Red Robin showed up shortly with Robin not far behind. It didn’t take long for the detectives to believe Jason’s innocence. The evidence didn’t match him.

Jason sat on a piece of concrete near the scene as they worked. He had hoped to see this for years now. But it wasn’t the same. Maybe it was because Jason didn’t get his revenge or because it looked too neat. Two quick shots to the brain. Probably didn’t even see it coming before he was lights out.

Bruce walked over to him as the other two took photos and bagged evidence. A little blood here. Some fabric fibers there. No fingerprints because of the heavy rain but a bullet casing.

“Did you see who shot him?”

“No B. I literally got here and he was already out. He was supposed to have a drug drop but I guess that didn’t happen,” Jason said with a shrug.

“You were going to fight him alone,”Bruce said with a raised brow.

“No. Just reconnaissance. I would have called it in,” Jason defended himself. Bruce gave him a side look before moving on to the case.

“Commissioner Gordon is on the way,” Tim said. He held bags of evidence carefully in his lanky fingers. “We’re finish collecting-“

“Can we go home, father? It’s freezing cold,” Damian interrupted. Bruce sighed before looking at him.

“Red Robin was talking but yes, you both should back to the cave to process everything. Red Hood, you too. The commissioner knows you have a history with the joker so it’s best you leave too. I’ll take care of this,” Bruce said carefully. Any wrong word might set Jason off with his trauma over the death of his murderer.

“Uh yeah, sure man,” Jason said clearly distracted. He would usually argue with everything Bruce said and this made Bruce even more worried for the young man. He sent a quick message to Dick before the commission met got there.

——————————

“We’re running the tests right now and there really isn’t much else to do. Robin already went to bed. Go home Hood and get some sleep,” Tim said by the computers. Jason hadn’t bothered to get out of his suit or shower.

“How long? How long until you get results?”

“Oh, uhhh maybe 12 hours? A while. Sorry DNA testing isn’t like in the movies. The meta or clone tests are even longer. It probably won’t be until tomorrow night that we know anything,” Tim said turning in his chair. “Get some sleep.”

Jason considered giving him a nasty comment but held it. He certainly felt dead on his feet and had a nice warm woman waiting at home for him.

“Call when you know anything,” he said with a growl.

“Yeesh, yeah. I will,” Tim said backing away. “Say it. Don’t spray it,” he muttered as Jason walked away.

———————————

Jason trudged into the apartment leaving wet clothing in his wake until he stumbled to bed in nothing but his boxer briefs. You were going to be mad at him for the mess in the morning but that could wait. He looked at you asleep on the bed. You looked so sweet and innocent. Like an angel compared to his dirty hands that practically dripped blood every night.

He slid under the blanket and pressed close to your warm form. You gasped awake before relaxing when you realized it was just Jason. Did you not realize he could kill you 84 different ways in your sleep? It didn’t really matter as you snuggled your head into the crook of his neck and slid your legs to entangle with his. Jason’s arms automatically wrapped around you and rubbed your back until your breathing was even in sleep. He stared at the ceiling until the hint of dusk could be seen outside.

Jason woke with a gasp followed by a moan as he felt perfect wet heat encompass his dick. He looked down to see the blankets move rhythmically as you slid your mouth along his dick. He blinked himself more awake to truly enjoy it.

It wasn’t the first time you had woken him as such but it was certainly a rare occurrence. Reserved for birthdays and Christmas, he couldn’t imagine what he did to deserve such a wonderful wake up.

“Fuck! Princess,” he groaned as you swirled before taking him deep. You hummed questionably.

“What did I, mmmm, do to deserve such a fuck! Perfect mouth. Perfect wake up,” he said pushing covers down to show you between his legs. You looked up at him with big innocent eyes as you licked long hot strips up his cock. You took him deep in your mouth before sliding off with a pop.

“I can’t spoil you?” You purred and he twitched. How did he get so lucky? “Do you want to finish in my mouth or can I ride you first?” You asked and he god honest choked on his spit.

“Baby, *cough* whatever you want, what. Ever. you want,” he said and you grinned before climbing up his body to straddle him. His hands ran along the side of your body before gripping your hips. You sunk down on him with a little mewl.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so wet. Do you like... do you like sucking my cock?” He asked breathlessly.

“Of course, Jaybird. Sometimes I touch myself when I blow you, like today,” you admitted with a sweet little giggle. He almost came right them. How could you say the dirtiest things while being the sweetest person he’d ever known?

Jason reached his thumb down to rub your clit as you moved. You whined before nodding at him. Your mouth fell open and your hips sped up. He knew that you weren’t going to last long. You really did get hot and bothered blowing him. You made little whined and whimpers before moaning his name loudly as you came. Your body clenching on him was enough and he thrust up into you as he came as well. You bent down and kissed him deeply. Jason was panting by the time you pulled back.

“Loved that for sure, but what the hell was that, Princess,” Jason asked breathlessly as you climbed off and threw on some clothing. You chuckled a little before tossing him his boxers.

“Just wanted to wake you up this morning. Do you want some pancakes, Jay,” you asked. He sat up and pulled them on.

“You certainly did. And I never say no to food. Especially my favorite food,” Jason said with a grin. “Is it secretly my birthday? Am I dying and you’re prepping me beforehand?”

You laughed. “You already did that, baby.”

Jason gasped a little before laughing.

“I just wanted to treat you like you deserve. Pick a movie. There’s a new slasher out that you can tear apart,” you said walking in the kitchen and grinned at Jason’s heart eye look he gave you.

He looked through the movies without paying them much mind. He’d seen the joker dead the day before and now his girlfriend was spoiling him. He didn’t know what to think about. He’d think about the joker finally being dead. He couldn’t hurt Jason or those near him any more. You’d been kidnapped 6 months earlier and it had almost ripped Jason apart when he found you bloody and beaten. Luckily alive though.

Then he thought about how sweet you were. A perfect angel who had nothing to do with that life. You couldn’t kill someone if you tried. He just wanted to keep you in an innocent bubble, especially after being kidnapped.

“Jay? Jason?” You said near him and he jumped. He had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you coming over to him with a plate of food. Heart shaped pancakes covered in whipped cream stared up at him and Jason had a little grin on his face.

“Sorry, thanks. This looks good,” he said and you grinned before sitting with your own. Jason turned on a movie and sat next to you to eat.

Jason’s phone rang.

He gave you an apologetic look before answering.

“Yeah,” he answered before quickly standing up to talk in another room. Definitely bat business, it sounded like. He came back in a few minutes putting on his suit. He bent and shoved most of a pancake in his mouth. Jason pulled you to your feet and swirled you around before holding you by the waist. You giggled.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve got to work. But when I get back, I’m making up for this morning, okay? Breakfast was amazing,” he said before pulling you into a dizzying kiss. You nodded before he left.

——————————

Jason arrived at the cave and realized something was instantly wrong. Tim, Dick, Damian, Bruce, and even Alfred were waiting for him around the computers. He slowly walked up. They didn’t think he did it, did they? Jason looked around in case of a fight.

“I have some bad news,” Dick said. Jason just stared at him. Dick sighed. “We know who killed the joker. You won’t like it. You- you might want to sit down.”

Jason frowned at his tone. It was the tone you used when telling a kid their parents died. He looked at the computer to see surveillance footage of the roof where he found the joker. He clenched his fist as the mad man walked in the screen.

“You know, this is the worst meeting place in the world,” joker said with a laugh. Jason’s eyebrows rose. He hasn’t expected audio. “So what do you have that I might want on the birds?”

A female voice off camera could be heard saying, “peace of mind.”

“Doubt you could give me that Princess,” he said in a mocking tone. His posture was casual even though the lower half of a woman’s body had walked into the screen and she held a gun in hand pointed at him. She froze at his words.

Jason couldn’t look away if he wanted to.

“Yeah, I know,” joker said. “I forget faces. Too many changing and quite a few people are a little two faced,” he said with a laugh. “But I never forget a voice. You sounded so much more sweet when you were crying tied to a chair. And the way you sobbed when I brought out the crowbar.... music to my ears. I bet it just reminded you of a certain bird that just didn’t quite make it the first time.”

“Shut up. I- I don’t care,” she said. Jason’s heart was in his throat. He knew exactly who that was before Tim’s DNA tests were complete. She moved around a little nervously.

“Honey, Princess,” he said drawn out in a mock of Jason’s voice. “Unless you plan on using that gun, put it down and we can play a game. You like games? You play one with the red bat all the time. Does he know? Does he know that you’ve been hunting me for.... geez, since you were kidnapped I’d bet.”

“Now drop that gun and I show you what pain really feels like,” he growled and she shot him in the forehead before he moved. He made a disconnected sound before falling to his knee, perfect height to be seen in the camera. She shot him again between the eyes and he fell back silently. His body splashed on the rainy roof before blood began to pool behind his head. The woman looked for a second, her body language painfully stiff, before running out the way she came.

The cave was silent as Jason realized what he just saw. He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. Has she- did she-??

“I assume the DNA matches?” He asked and Tim nodded before sliding him a paper copy. 98% match. Only chance it wasn’t you was an evil twin or clone but no, he noticed the clothing and mannerisms. It was you.

“Are you going to bring her in?” Bruce asked quietly and Jason gaped.

“I sure as shit ain’t. She killed the man who kidnapped her and abused her. That sounds like self defense to me,” he defended. Dick looked at him in pity and Jason quickly looked away.

“It was premeditated, Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

“I know. I’ll take care of it. She’s not going to prison. I’ll talk to her,” he said. Bruce gave him a hard look. “You come near her- I swear to god, Bruce. I’ll shoot you myself.”

Jason got up to leave. Dick moved out of his way. He wasn’t getting in this.

“Jason,” Bruce said but Jason was already gone.

——————————

Jason was a pretty smart guy but he was completely shocked at this moment. What possessed you to kill the joker? To seek him out? A man that tried to kill you and you were willing to meet him alone? Not even Jason wanted to do that. And that morning you were treating Jason special. He thought for a second that you killed the joker for him. It chilled him to the bone but he put that thought out of his head. No, you had your own reasons to do it.

Jason walked in the apartment cautiously. Who knows how you would be acting, the perfect girlfriend or finally breaking down when you realized you killed a man. He found you in the bedroom asleep. You didn’t look like you had just killed someone and for a second Jason had doubt but the video and DNA didn’t lie.

He crawled in bed with you. You pulled him close and laid your head on his chest and Jason’s heart hurt. You looked fine but killing people left scars and your first time killing someone was not something you forget.

You woke with a gasp and cry hours later. You trembled and grasped at Jason tightly. He woke up confused before pulling you closer.

“Hey, Princess, I’m right here. You’re okay,” he said rubbing your back and holding you close. “What’s going on?”

“I see him. When I sleep. Every time,” you breathed almost in tears. Jason kissed your cheek and he felt wetness on your skin. You had been crying. He didn’t want to ask but now was as good a time as any.

“Princess, what did you do last night?” Jason asked so quietly. You looked up at him quickly and it confirmed everything he needed to know.

“Nothing. I was here. All night. Wh-why?” You asked, lying terribly. Jason sighed. He closed his eyes before willing himself to speak.

“You know I’m a detective. I can tell that you’re lying,” Jason started gently.

“What does that mean,” you said a little too quickly. Your breathing started to speed up again and Jason hated the look of fear on your face.

“I’m not mad. I won’t turn you in. Just tell me what happened,” he said softly, watching you intently. You wanted to shrink away a little.

“I can’t,” you whispered. Your eyes started to water and you blinked them away.

“Did you do it? Did you kill him? I can help you,” Jason said and you froze. “Talk to me.”

“I-I did,” you said looking at him in terror. Your eyes were red rimmed. “I did.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pulling you tight to his body. You broke down in little sobs and clung to him. “I’m so sorry that you thought you had to. I should have. I’m sorry.” He wrapped you up and made little shhh noises and you cried until you fell back asleep.

You woke up later with a pounding headache wrapped up tightly against Jason. He was on his phone but sat it down when he saw you were up.

“Hey,You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve taken care of everything,” he said ever so gently. You nodded.

“What does that mean?” You asked slowly.

“Red Hood took the wrap on it. No great loss with one less psycho in Gotham. Harley Quinn had an impromptu parade with hyenas and jugglers and everything. Nightwing made an appearance. Dick said Barbie slept through the night for the first time in months and she said she’d help you with anything you need,” Jason said trying to be positive. You gave him a dry smile.

“That’s nice. What about- what about Batman?” You asked.

“He’s Batman. But he’ll get over it. And the next time you kill a murderous clown, let me help. He could have killed you. And if anyone knows how to hide a body, it’s me,” Jason said giving you a squeezing hug. You smiled despite yourself.

“I’ll remember that. I’m a little sad I missed the hyena parade,” you admitted.

“Oh she’s having a parade every day this week. An anonymous donor gave her a ton of fireworks. Fairly certain it was Tim,” Jason said.

#Jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #Jason todd smut #red hood smut #batboy smut #the joker needs to die okay #and I’ll do it myself

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purplelupins · 2 years

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

Chapter XXXII

Summery: In her 6th year, reader meets the charming Professor Lupin and their friendship begins. Reader is 16-17 at the beginning (nothing nsfw until reader is of age.) and for the story’s sake, Lupin stays as the DADA Professor into the Goblet of Fire.

Pairing: Professor Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Warnings: Angstish, dirty thoughts but like…not bad?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n sat by the fire, barely feeling anything as the nature of the first potion settled into her mind.

Liquid death.

She remembered in her first year when the Potions Master had said that he could teach them how to bottle fame, and brew glory. But bottling death? The amount of work and experimentation that must have been poured into such a thing was enough to make her nauseated.

Severus continued to waver between testing the other potions she had brought, and flicking his eyes to the young woman staring into the fire. His chest ached knowing how deeply she was being effected by her parent’s hidden secrets. A part of him felt guilty; perhaps he should have said that he could not test the potions or simply never gotten involved with her. But the man knew that was neither possible nor a solution.

What was done was done.

What she needed was a safe place to grieve and think; which was exactly what he gave her. Severus had lit the fire quietly as she had read the diaries, and he made sure she sat in his armchair; upon showing her the first potion, she had sat back down and gotten quiet. As a man who knows trepidation and unrest deeply, he knew she was processing every word she read and what he told her; the potions master flicked his finger, and a warm blanket appeared around her shoulders, which did indeed comfort her greatly. Knowing she was safe -at least as safe as he could keep her- was enough for him to return to his work.

A cavernous pit of anguish began to form inside him as he continued to test the potions. By the time he finished, he almost didn’t want to tell her his findings. They were all exaggerated versions of known potions.

Amortentia, Veritasium, Polyjuice potion, and of course, Liquid Death.

She stared over at the man as he hunched over the desk, brow furrowed and eyes sharp. The longer she looked, the more she felt herself relax.

“Severus?”

He looked up instantly.

“I’m not alone in this…right?”

Severus took a breath and looked back at the potion, “You never were.”

“What?”

“Alone.”

The young witch almost didn’t hear him, but his words caressed her ears like a warm hug, and y/n felt her heart beat a little faster. She looked away, fiddling with her thumbs.

“Finished.” He said, rebottling the potions.

“That’s it?” She whispered, not wanting to leave, “What are they?”

“Each one is an exaggeration of a known formula…Amortentia that lasts a lifetime. Veritasium that makes the drinker descend into madness. Polyjuice potion that changes the drinker into another person permanently…You will find them to be labeled, as to avoid confusion. I suggest you take extra care with them.”

She felt her head grow light and her gut grew heavy. His words hung in the air, and she tried to process them. How could such things exist?

As Y/n stood and took her bag in hand, she heard him wince. She looked back up at him, watching how he fought to control himself.

“It’s hurting again… isn’t it?” She asked as she walked to him.

He said nothing.

Y/n traced her finger across the desk’s edge. A question hung in the air.

“Will…will you answer it?”

“I will have to.” He said.

Y/n snapped her eyes to his black ones, they were empty and distant. She was almost afraid to say anything.

She is afraid Severus…

Severus could already see the lost look on her beautiful features; he hated it. He hated that he was the source of her turmoil and confusion.

It’s your nature, Severus. You seek only to twist and destroy-

“Severus…Severus tell me what you mean by that.” She whispered, chest heaving out a painful breath as she spoke.

The man looked out the window for a moment, trying to find the best way to tell her.

“Dumbledore has instructed me to act for both parties…I feed them just enough information that they accept me into their circle…and in turn I report back to the Order.”

She felt her heart beat in her throat.

A double agent? He was going to get himself killed-

“Is that why you rushed me in here?”

The potions master nodded, and tucking his hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching out to her “It is. I suggest you leave directly from here back to that house…do not let yourself be seen.” Came his low soft voice. His words, however, did not sit right- something was wrong.

Y/n’s legs became heavy. She didn’t want to leave him. What if Death Eaters invaded his home-

“Y/n?”

Her thoughts stopped at the sound of her name. She looked up, and he was clenching his left fist. It was then that the full meaning hit her.

He was being called.

“You must go. Now.” His words her far more urgent, y/n felt a sting of fear course through her. They were coming to him. To his house.

Severus handed her the potions, which she gingerly placed in her bag, and took her hands. “Stay. Safe.” He said firmly.

Y/n nodded, “You too.”

They shared one last look at one another, then released their hands; in an instant, she apparated and landed in the living room of Grimmauld Place just as the clock struck 7pm.

There was a low hum of conversation in the house, but y/n could barely register any of it. She walked past the front room and into the kitchen where Sirius, Arthur, Kingsley and Remus sat. They had been laughing about something, but their expressions soured upon seeing her pale face. Remus jumped to his feet and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, guiding her to sit. “Y/n? Y/n what happened?” He murmured to her, careful to not show too much affection.

She shook her head, and looked up at the men sat there, “I-the potions…they’re far worse than I thought.” She whispered.

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, then noticed the other two men staring confused. They breathed out a sigh, “It’s a long story for another day.”

“A life long love potion?”

“Yes.”

“Merlin…”

They sat in Sirius’s study, y/n cradled in Remus’s arms as a fire crackled away in its harth. Sirius stood by the window, his hand running through his hair.

“I read one of the diaries too…they’re old notes of my mother’s…and there was something about my Great Great Grandfather too. He competed in the last Triwizard Tournament back in 1792. Died though.”

Sirius whistled. Remus sent him an eye. The man sighed and walked to the fire as the couple soothed each other.

“Dove, did Severus say anything else?” Remus murmured in her ear. She sighed, playing with the hair on his arm.

“He…he told me about him working for both sides. Dumbledore’s orders.”

Sirius nodded and poked at the embers with the iron rod, “Ah…yes. We received an owl from Dumledore today. The reason why Kingsley was here too…apparently he has been placed as head of my case in the Ministry. He will be feeding them false information as to my whereabouts. Tibet, was it Moony?”

“Yes.” Remus said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Y/n nodded, and there was a beat of quiet before she confessed something that made their hearts twist in pain.

“I’m worried about him…” she whispered, a small break in her voice.

Remus looked up at Sirius, who returned the concern. They knew all too well what war brought; death, solitude, uncertainty. They knew that it was a very real thing that this young woman may loose more than she even thought possible. But that night, they would let her worry. They would not be harsh and tell her that war is not a place for such niceness as worry.

So they comforted her. They let her sit in that fragile bubble she still had left. For now.

“My love, Severus is a brilliant wizard and a man with a cunning tongue. I’m sure that whatever he is facing, he will be able to handle it.”

“But-“

“No buts tonight, dove.” Remus kissed her hair gently, “Tonight, you need to remember that Severus is, like us, a veteran of war. He knows what to do.” He murmured to her.

His words put the young woman at ease, slightly. He was right, of course. Y/n knew he was. But she could not help the uneasy pit that formed in her stomach. She wondered what the first war was like, and how much pain they had gone through. She wondered if she would be able to handle it, too.

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Remus patted her leg.

“Come on, you. Let’s get to bed.” Remus murmured into her hair, and picked her up as he stood, “Goodnight Pads.”

Sirius gave them a nod and turned back to the window. Remus apparated them, and in seconds, they were at the foot of their bed. He placed her down gently on the mattress, and knelt down in front of her, placing a hand on her knee as he stared up at her with those Y/n watched him, letting his presence calm her.

“You alright, my love?” He asked gently.

Even with him just inches from her, she barely heard him. The young witch was engrossed with every detail on his face- the scars that sloped over his cheeks and forehead; the stubble that had formed; how his hair flopped down over his brow; his rich, caramel eyes and the light that reflected off them. But above all, what she found herself completely enraptured with was the sheer look of love he gave her. It made her heart ache and flutter.

Y/n had found herself doing this often; gazing at him. Even when they were still at Hogwarts, she could never quite tear her eyes from him.

Sometimes she gazed at his mouth as he spoke, or watched his beautiful hands when he simply held his tea. She would watch how he sat or how he would concentrate on a book. She would watch how he conversed with those around him. She remembered how she used to steal glances at him and blush when he caught her; how she would be transfixed in his hands as her would look over her work and point out something on the paper.

After so long of urning for the man, she had a difficult time calming the butterflies that seemed to take up permanent residency in her stomach even now. Y/n sometimes didn’t believe that he was hers to admire. Hers to love.

“Remus?” She asked suddenly.

A small grin pulled at his handsome face.

“Yes, dove?”

Y/n looked at him, and how he listened so intently to her.

“I love you so much.”

He grinned gently. Remus reached up, and caressed her face tenderly. “I love you too, little one. “

Y/n felt herself melt under his touch, and slipped her hand over his face to hold his jaw, smoothing her thumb over one of his scars.

“Kiss me, Remus Lupin.”

He chuckled her use of his full name, but didn’t need to be asked twice. Remus leaned up and carefully brushed his lips against hers, his moustache tickling her gently.

“Is that better?” He asked with a mischievous eye.

She huffed out a sigh. It most certainly was not.

“Greedy girl.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“No?”

“No.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” Remus asked playfully.

“Try being in love with the most handsome man in every room, and you’ll understand.” She moved her hands to his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it.

He let out a soft laugh that made his cheekbones even more prominent, “You’re asking me to be in love with a man? I mean it’s good to try new things, but-”

Y/n stilled her movements and glared at him.

“That’s what you said-“

“You know what I meant.”

He laughed softly. “I do. And I am.”

She paused again. “You are what?”

“In love with the most beautiful, precious, brilliant woman in every room.” He whispered, gently pressing his lips against hers, revelling in the way she relaxed under his touch. She was always so responsive to him, even when they had not been involved. He recalled how she would blush almost instantly when he would stand close to check her work, or how she would jump when his finger would graze hers accidentally. How she would take a deep breath then he walked past her. He loved every bit of it.

Now, with her melting under his gentle touch as he kissed her, it was almost a dream. Even if it was, he wouldn’t mind; the happiness he felt would be enough to keep him into the next life.

Remus pulled away from her sweet lips, and pressed one more kiss upon her forehead. He waved his hand, and a rush of water sounded from their washroom; next, he carefully held her calve and removed her shoes; rolled down her socks and her trousers. He slowly took her shirt off, and unhooked her bra, letting it fall onto her thighs as she sat.

Y/n was hypnotized by him. Any stress or worry she had seemed to disappear when he was near her. Then, as she sat bare, he gently placed one hand under her knees and the other on her back, picking her up and walking them to the adjoining room. It was warm, and a slow steam rose from the bathtub he had filled. Remus lowered her into the soothing water, and left for a moment, returning just a minute later holding her silk robe, and a small, flat box. Y/n sighed and leaned over the side of the tub as he knelt down next to her. “Stop being so sweet. It’s impossible to keep up with.” She whispered, pushing his hair back.

“And how would you have me be, if not sweet?” He murmured, drinking in her bare form wetted by the bath. Her smooth, bright skin, and gentle curves of her body.

Y/n thought for a moment, but could not think of any quick response as she found herself drowning his his amber eyes.

On one knee.

“No other way.” She whispered and caught his lips against hers. Y/n let out a sweet moan at the taste of him. She could still taste a hint of tea there, and the lulling flavour only caused the girl to sink deeper into his touch, dripping soft droplets of water onto his shirt. Y/n ever so gently continued to unbutton his shirt, teasing his skin every so often. Remus removed his hands from her cheeks and hair, and untucked his shirt for her, and slipped his suspenders off his shoulders.

The heat of the warm bath and steam that clouded the air only made her scent even more potent; Remus felt his head spin. She was all he felt then- under his touch and in his soul.

He easily slipped his trousers down, and flicked them to the other side of the small room, earning him a honey-like giggle from her. She sat up and let him slip in behind her; Remus’s large arms and muscled legs caged her back against him, holding her there on his chest and lap. She felt unbelievably protected and safe in that moment- as if not even death could find her.

Y/n let out a long sigh, and let herself relax as she listened to his strong heartbeat on her shoulder blades. Beating with hers.

“My love?”

She snapped out of her thoughts at the low hum of the older man’s voice vibrating through her back. A glass of water was just a couple inches from her lips, which she opened and let the cool liquid fill her mouth. After such a long day, she hadn’t noticed just how parched she was. Remus took the glass away after a moment, and placed it on the shelf next to the tub. She felt him heave a long sigh that fanned warm air down her neck, earning him a shiver from her.

After what must have been a half an hour of laying together, Remus gently sat her up, and summoned a bar of soap, which he lathered his hands with. Y/n let out a long hum of happiness as he massaged the soap into her tight shoulders, up her neck, across her breasts, which he squeezed gently. She breathed out a very quiet moan at the touch, which made him shut his eyes.

Breathe old man.

Remus had to restrain himself from picking her up, and sliding himself inside her right there.The way she obediently followed his movements and let him care for her was simply too enjoyable. It was addicting.

But as a gentleman, he knew she had experienced a tremendously difficult day, and he was there to comfort her in any way she wished. He would be gentle with her, or if she desired, he would pin her against the bed and ravish her senseless. It seemed that that night, all she required was his touch, and his presence.

She needed him there.

And as he did indeed dote on her, y/n was able to think with a clear mind, and hide away her worry.

If only for a night.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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