#i will admit i do not fully recall things from before i was 5. but i do have some vague memories. i KNOW Part of Your World was the... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 11 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds.

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen.

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks.

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him.

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds.

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright.

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too.

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there.

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age.

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs.

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk.

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?”

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?”

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion.

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday.

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table.

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?”

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better.

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!”

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle.

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water.

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher.

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass.

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed.

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself.

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days.

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you.

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track.

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons:

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you.

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace.

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words.

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back.

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt.

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them.

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room.

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie.

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same.

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side.

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore.

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had.

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot. “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss.

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

1K notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 6 months

Text

Everybody loves somebody 🫀

RE6!Leon S. Kennedy x wife!reader

A/N: This is my first time writing for older Leon!! I recommend you listen to 'Everybody loves somebody' by Dean Martin as this fic is based around that song. This is a birthday present for my dear friend @vampkennedy ! Happy Birthday, Raf ❤️

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: so much fluff, it's actually disgusting, so fucking sappy, how dare they be so in love, maybe like a smidge of angst, get your tissues ready

Word count: 2.8k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

🕯°°••°°••°°••°°••°°•🤎•°°••°°••°°••°°••°°🕯

The dimly lit room was filled not only with warmth, but with love. The love you held so deeply in every crevice of your heart, just for him. Your heart and soul were his entirely, there was no power that could change that. You loved him so fully, like you had never loved anyone before. No one could could compare to him, let only the love he had for you, too.

Every moment with him felt like a waltz, a graceful dance through the warmly illuminated walls of the castle that were your bound hearts. You were almost floating, his grip on you never wavering, and neither was yours. How two humans could hold each other so tightly, yet so incredibly lovingly at the same time was a mystery to you- until you met him. He opened doors you didn't know existed, holding the key in his hands.

He made your chest feel tight with the amount of affection and adoration you harbored in your heart. The gentleness he had about him, so soft it made you melt like honey, was only for you. You were the only one to see it, to hear it. To feel it. Leon was a rough man- tattered around the edges, cold and stoic, but he was nothing but warming and smooth around you. Like all of his doubts, flaws, whatever it was, just vanished the second you were in his vicinity.

There was no feeling greater than having him hold you, your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat, while you just lay there in silence. But it was never really silent. Your love was beyond words, no matter how quiet it was, words of praise and affection always lingered. His hand in yours never failed to remind you of your connected souls.

Deeply intertwined, roots tightly woven around each other like an ancient tree that would stand forever more and never falter. You lifted each other up, two forces that couldn't exist without one another. And you never, ever had to. He'd always be with you and you with him, no matter what might come or what challenges you'll face. You were his, and he was yours.

You recalled your years together, a smile sitting on your cheeks. It was your 5 year anniversary as a married couple. Marrying him was one of the best opportunities you'd ever gotten, and you would do it again in a heartbeat. It was a decision you would never second guess, how could you, when you were so lucky? You could still see it- like it had only happened yesterday.

The nervous look in his eyes, the way he fiddled with his hands. The soft and gentle, sometimes awkward, rookie you fell in love with still lingered deep within him, even if he'd never admit it. But once you made your way down the aisle, all his worries were gone. He couldn't contain the tears that cascaded down his face as the reality finally caught up to him. He would marry you. He would be your husband, your best friend, and whatever else you needed him to be.

The truth was, Leon couldn't wait to feel the coolness of your wedding ring against his stubbly cheek or the warmth of you pressed against him in the early morning hours. He couldn't wait to come home to you, his wife. God, that word made him all warm and fuzzy inside. He had actually beaten the odds and got his happy ending. You were his happy ending, and he would be grateful for you until the fates decided his time was up.

And even then, he'd play the role of Oprheus to get you, his muse, his Eurydice, back from the depths of the Underworld. He'd play the fool if he had to, all for you. Always for you.

You stood in the kitchen, the heat of the oven and stove making small droplets of sweat roll down your skin. The dinner that was boiling on the stove enveloped the room in aromatics and savory smells. It was a favorite of Leon's, a little surprise you were preparing. You used to go to fancy restaurants and other over the top anniversary activities, but ultimately this is was where you felt the most comfortable.

A nice candle lit meal in your shared home was more than enough to satisfy you heart. So you stood here, one hand on your hip, the other stirring the pot with a wooden spoon. You were humming a tune- whatever was on the radio at the moment. Still in your comfy clothes, you turned off the heat to let the dinner simmer. You'd planned to dress up a little- just because you were at home didn't mean you couldn't doll yourself up a bit.

You made your way to your shared bedroom, laying out the dress you'd picked and some jewelry. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen Leon in a suit in a while. He always looked so good, distinguished, put together. It made a small frown creep onto your face. You rummaged through his side of the closet, seeing whether he still had that one suit that you loved.

Sadly, it was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably sold it or gave it to a friend. He never really wore it, after all. You could always buy him a new one, maybe as a christmas gift. There were definitely occasions where a well tailored suit would come in handy, and maybe you could convince him to wear it just a little more often, just for you. He'd do just about anything you asked, which you sometimes used to your advantage.

You'd give this a little more thought another day, for right now there more important things to worry about. Like would he be home in time, or would you have to spend your wedding anniversary alone? Would be hurt, and if so, how badly? You shook those thoughts away. He was careful. He always was, and you assumed he took extra caution for today. He would always come back to you.

You began getting dressed, he would be home soon, you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled. God, 5 years. What a number. It felt like you've barely been married for more than a week, still in the honeymoon phase, and at the same time you could've sworn you've been together for a lifetime. Time does fly when you're happy. Truly happy.

You heard the jingling of keys and the click of the doorknob turning. Followed by a rustle of various unidentifiable items and heavy steps on the floor. "Honey? I'm home!" rang out his beautiful voice. It made your heart beat higher, just how domestic that phrase was. You walked towards the noise, checking on the food on your way.

You were about to say something, but when you laid eyes on him, all words left you. He stood there, in the suit you had looked for earlier, hair slightly slicked back, with a pretty tie around his neck. "I see we both had the same idea," he smiled, walking over to you and wrapping your still stunned form in a hug. "Happy 5 years, baby." Leon whispered in your ear, then placing a sweet kiss on your neck.

The stubble on his face made a shiver run up your spine when it touched your skin. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart." You replied, gently caressing his cheek. Leon captured your lips in a passionate kiss, pulling you closer by your waist while your hand was on his cheek and your other arm draped around his neck.

"God, you're gorgeous, look at you," he mumbled after pulling away, his eyes looking over you and admiring what he saw in front of him, lips lightly stained by your lipstick. You chuckled lovingly. "Thank you, love. You look so handsome in that suit. When did you have time to change?" You asked, your hand resting on his chest and slightly toying with the lapel of his jacket.

He was at work today, which usually got pretty bloody and grimey, yet he was here looking like a Hollywood star. Clean and smelling of that irresistibly cologne of his. "Well, showers do exist. Not to mention that a quick stop at a motel to get ready for my special lady is 100% worth the ass kicking I'll get tomorrow." He explained with a grin.

"You left early? Leon-" he stopped what was about to be a worried lecture with a finger to your lips. "I won't hear it, not today. Today s'just about you and me, baby." He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You returned an equally soft smile. "You're right, Honey. Dinner's ready,"

"You made dinner too? Here I was, thinking this was my anniversary present," he smirked, looking you over. Playfully rolling your eyes, you plated everything, Leon closely watching from over your shoulder. You'd set the table earlier today, nothing too extravagant, just a simple tablecloth, the fine silverware, and some candles.

"That smells and looks amazing, baby." He muttered, his arms wrapped around your waist. "S'your favorite," you smiled, awkwardly moving around in his arms to get everything ready. "You're perfect." He mumbled against your shoulder, placing soft kisses on your exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed and your heart skipped a beat. Even after all those years together, his compliments still made your heart soar.

You let out a breathy chuckle. "I don't know about perfect-" you were quickly interrupted by Leon gently turning your head and pressing a kiss to your lips. "But I know. You're perfect, end of discussion." He smirked. "Alright, alright, I'll take your word for it." You giggled, continuing with your task. He hummed in satisfaction, letting his lips graze over your hair.

He let go of you at some point, though reluctantly, he seated himself at the dining table as you served dinner. You ate and chatted, laughing and enjoying yourselves. The atmosphere that you two created drenched the room in love and affection, and a heartfelt symphony of your giggles.

"That was delicious, sweetheart," Leon sighed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Good. I spent all day on that damned chocolate souffle!"

He laughed, taking your hand in his. "It was worth it, but..," he trailed off, making you raise an eyebrow,"I had a different dessert in mind." He grinned, stroking your knuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure your lovely wife would agree to that if you asked nicely," you smiled sweetly. He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, letting go of your hand. "I'll keep that in mind." He said in a low tone, a certain look in his eyes.

The radio was playing in the background, it was set on an oldie channel that you liked listening to while cooking. The soft tunes of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and The Mills Brothers were echoing through the room, the candles in the middle of the table flickering. "I should get started on the dishes," you said softly, getting up from your seat. Leon immediately leaned forward, quickly grabbing your forearm across the table to stop you.

"No, no, no, sweetheart, sit back down." He ordered gently, pulling you back into your chair. "Honey, the kitchen is a mess-"

"I don't care. It's our anniversary. Relax for once, baby," he asked of you, a pleading look in his eyes, the grip he had on your arm softening. A guilty feeling washed over you. You had the habit of running around like a headless chicken sometimes, trying to get as much done as possible.

"M'sorry. I guess I just want everything to be... perfect." You muttered, avoiding his gaze. His brows pulled together, in worry or out of empathy, you didn't know. "It's more than perfect, Darling. Please just enjoy today. Enjoy us. It's been five years since I watched you walk down the aisle, can you believe that?" He chuckled softly, his thumb stroking over your skin. He couldn't even believe it. How did he get so lucky? It was a mystery to him, but god, he was so incredibly grateful.

He never thought he'd ever have this. And somedays, he was anxious, just waiting for everything to vanish, slipping from his grasp. Nothing brings him more comfort on those days than to hold you and remind himself that you're here, with him because you chose to, and that you would never leave. "God, I know. What a perfect day that was, huh?" You sighed, the corners of your mouth turning upwards. There was shimmer in his eyes, a light of pure joy, just like on that very day. Some things never change.

Leon hummed softly in response knowing that no words would do justice to how he felt back then. You sat in the comfortable silence for a while, occasionally catching each others' gaze, which was then met with a loving smile while your fingertips brushed as your hands rested on the table. The radio was still playing softly in the kitchen, the gentle tunes filling the room perfectly.

You perked up, your brows raising once you heard the fluttering melody of one of you favorites; Everybody loves somebody. In turn, Leon's brows scrunched together in confusion. You got up with a smile on your face, if his face would allow it, his brows would furrow even further as you did so silently. "Honey, what are you-" you interrupted him by pulling him out of his chair wordlessly and dragging him to the middle of your livingroom where your hands settled on his chest.

His expression softened once he realized what was happening. You wanted to dance with him. His heart swelled, to have you wanting to do something so intimate and romantic with him. It was a bit silly since you've been married for so long but you never failed to touch his heart. His hands found your waist and gently pulled you closer to him, but you were never close enough for his taste.

You started swaying to the rhythm, the hands that were previously on his chest now resting near the back of his shoulders. Leon matched your rythym, holding you tightly while moving the both of you to the melody. He looked so good. The dim light of the room hitting his features so perfectly. They way he looked at you so adoringly made your cheeks flush.

"You know, I listened to this song on my 17th birthday, wondering when my sometime and where my someplace would be...," you began softly, the gentle smile on his lips prompting you to keep going," and, well, my sometime is now. My someplace is right here, with you, in your arms. Words cannot describe how much I love you. You make my heart sing, Leon." You smiled, placing a hand on his cheek.

His eyes widened slightly and you could feel him stiffen at your confession, but he never stopped swaying you. The way his name fell from your lips in such a truly loving way made his heart beat out of his chest. A sheen of tears glistened in his baby blues, his brows pulled together and you could feel him lean into your touch.

"I love you. God, I love you so much." He sighed, a slight tremble in his usually so confident tone as he placed his forehead against yours. "I love you more." You whispered, your warm breath fanning over his lips. Your nose brushed against his before you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss. Your lips set his heart aflame, just like they'd done so many times before.

Although searing, the kiss didn't lack passion. Leon couldn't help but groan against your lips, wrapping his arms fully around you and holding you close. You made him feel so loved, like he never had. God, if he could carve out his lovesick heart and serve it to you on a silver platter, he would. A broken sigh escaped him as he metled into you. The sound rumbled in his throat, sending vibrations through your skin.

You only pulled away when you felt a small, wet drop met your hand. You were breathless, the kiss took all the air from your lungs. Looking up at him, you saw something incredibly precious. He was crying. He loved you so much and was completely overwhelmed by your affection that he was crying. You gently wiped the tear with your thumb before caressing his stubbly cheek. "Don't cry, my love." You cooed, making him let out broken cries.

"Shhh.. I'll kiss all your tears away, I promise you that." You whispered with a small smile, pressing gentle kisses on his cheeks. You could taste the saltiness of his tears on your tongue. "I'll love you forever." He mumbled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face, a small smile tugging at his lips. "So will I." Your head fell forward against his chest, his head resting on top of yours. You closed your eyes, sighing contently. As you listened to his steady heartbeat, one thing became crystal clear to you. You've never been so sure about something.

Now was your sometime, this was your someplace and he was your someone.

This was where you belonged.

🕯°°••°°••°°••°°••°°•🤎•°°••°°••°°••°°••°°🕯

I hope you have a lovely day, Raf!<3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #RE6!Leon #resident evil x reader #resident evil 6 #older!leon

498 notes · View notes

minas-linkverse · 2 years

Text

Linkverse Update: A Message to deliver

Words: 1320 + 5 illustrations

Characters: Sky, Twilight, Grandma and Aryll

Description: Link ends up having a difficult conversation with Sailor’s grandma.

The smell of the ocean wasn't new to Link. He'd met it on the waves of the Lanayru sand sea after all. This one was quite a bit less dusty however, which was a far more pleasant sensory experience.

What was different here, on this island their magical journey had taken them, was the lively people of outset.

It had taken Fangs a little while to lower his guard, but he'd ended up a real island sweetheart in no time. Sure he still seemed unsure of most of the people, but when Aryll was asked to help with pigs within Fang's earshot, he couldn't resist.

A day of work and now Aryll and Fangs were running around the island doing anything and all that popped into Aryll's head.

Link smiled, watching from the porch of Sailor's home as the two worked on a sand castle. Fangs trying his best to tell about the castle of his time at Aryll's insistence.

Next to him sat Sailor's grandma. She and him had spent the day working on chores as the other two ran about. Sweeping, cooking, looking through old pictographs, and talking.

She was a wonderful woman, Link had come to find. Gentle beyond words and truly sweet, perhaps to a fault. Something he found more relatable than he'd like to admit.

Then a wave washed across the beach, soaking Fangs and their castle, but leaving Aryll untouched as she knew to rush out of the way. This event was followed by uproarious laughter from Aryll, and although Fangs sulked, he didn't seem mad.

"I think Aryll needed this." Grandma spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence.

"She does seem energetic." He signed back, making sure grandma saw his smile.

"That she is." Grandma replied, returning the smile, before they both turned forwards again.

However, instead of continuing their silence, Grandma continued voicing her thoughts, old fingers intertwining on her lap. "Just a moment ago she was only a little girl." She recalled. "Yet before my eyes she's grown too big for this island."

"Too big?" Link asked in response. "You all don't seem to be low on resources…"

"Ah, no, that's not what I mean." Grandma clarified, humoured by the misunderstanding. "...I think, after being rescued by her brother and Miss Tetra's crew, something must've changed. She'd seen what was beyond these shores and hasn't been able to forget…"

"...Oh." link felt a familiar feeling then, "Zelda is like that, I think. I can't help but to admire that."

"The world needs excitable spirits." Grandma nodded. "They let the rest of us take it easy…!"

That'd been funny, Link admitted. "If I'd gotten to decide perhaps I'd still be napping back on Skyloft. I'm glad though, I've been able to see such amazing things."

Grandma seemed happy to listen, but her smile turned to a frown a little bit after.

Link looked at her with worry, his eyebrow raised.

She sighed, and shook her head. "It's nothing you have to worry about, dear."

"I'd love to listen, ma'am." Link insisted.

She seemed hesitant, but after twiddling with her thumbs for some time, grandma made her decision.

"Recently… letters from our Link came." Grandma started. "He explained his new settlement has really taken shape… that me and Aryll could fit right in, and be comfortable."

"Oh!"

"I think it's exactly what Aryll needs. She'd be a welcome hurricane there, I'm sure."

"Sailor said something similar." Link grinned. "He misses you both greatly."

"...That is the issue…" Grandma sighed, placing a hand on her cheek for comfort. "It's perfect for Aryll… yet…"

Link bit his lip, suspecting a few directions this could go, none which seemed pleasant.

"...I don't want to go." Grandma admitted.

"Wh-why not? –If I may ask?" Link felt his heart sink, fingers feeling stiff as he signed. "Sure the trip sounds far, but you're clearly a strong woman."

"Link would make sure I'd be fully comfortable…" She nodded, but remained firm in her stance. "But… This island is my home."

As she spoke, grandma reached her hand out as if to grab the evening wind. It remained there for but a moment, and then she pulled her now closed fist to her heart.

"I was born here, and I want to be buried here."

Link sat in silence, unable not to stare in his shocked state. Images of Sailor's devastated face flooded his mind, followed by late night talks with Zelda about her father, images of when he was smallest on skyloft and trying to understand why the nice man from the bazaar was being lowered into the graveyard…

...Fi...

"You're… You've still got more life to live. It's never too late."

Grandma smiled at him, but her brows told another story. "That's not an issue. I've raised two generations and kept the people of this island from all sorts of fights. My soup is famous on the other side of the world…"

"I know the grains of sand on these beaches, every turn of the path in the woods, I've watched those trees grow up. I'm a part of this island like the stone at its centre...”

Grandma paused, before placing a hand on Link's. "I am more than satisfied. This is the life I wanted to have."

"...You shouldn't speak like that."

Grandma's smile wavered, and she took her hand back. "...Perhaps it's not for the young to understand."

Link's lip quivered, shoulders tense. He wanted to call her selfish, to tell her this would break Sailor's heart, that he could never stand by such fatalism…

...Yet he couldn't.

After his journey he himself had given up the sword, how truly he wanted to rest– Needed to rest. Sleep for a few years maybe… But he wouldn't let himself.

Everyone, especially Zelda and Groose, could see how resisting what he needed was breaking him. The two nearly had to force him to stop helping…

Sailor wouldn't want his grandma to lie, to come to that new land and sit in sorrow as she missed her true home.

"I am sorry for telling you." Grandma spoke again, then. "You don't have to be involved…"

Breath hitched, Link closed his eyes and sighed. What a truly difficult situation, he thought as he pushed hair from his eyes.

Neither of these people should have to worry about such difficult things. Sailor and his grandma both had such hearts of gold.

He'd have to- He'd have to do something.

"I… I could tell him." Link offered out of the blue.

Grandma looked at him with great surprise.

"Let me." He insisted. "I… I might not truly understand, but I can see it's important. I can see why it's important."

Grandma didn't seem to fully believe him, but she pulled a sealed letter from her pocket. It was a little crinkled, but otherwise clearly newly written.

"...I've not found the courage to send it yet. My response…"

"I'll likely see him again soon. I can warn him and deliver it in person."

"...Son, you truly do not have to."

"I want to." He refused to be swayed. Link would deliver the terrible news, he'd take the fall of Sailor's reaction.

Grandma seemed hesitant, but gave him the letter. "You can toss it out if you change your mind."

"I wont." He signed, before gently taking the paper. Somehow, it felt rather heavy…

"...Thank you." Grandma spoke, eyes teary. It was like her world had grown ever so lighter.

That's it, Link thought, and offered a hug to her. She gladly accepted, and held onto him for a good while. "Just a moment ago they were both so small…"

Yet everyone had to grow old one day…

…

...At least this time there was no toilet ghost to worry about.

#Linkverse #Grandma #Sky #Aryll #Twilight #death mention

394 notes · View notes

hand-picked-star · 2 months

Text

It is the continuation of previous post. I am doing a countdown on the basis of the characters saying 'kal e hain,woh hain etc etc ' basis and their on-screen sleeping and waking up pattern.It's the last 6 days.

6 days to go of the completion of 6th month of their contact marriage aka 7th day from when Arnav started his quest to khushi's heart (aka 8th August)

The only partially-good thing he did that day was 'I love you, damn it.'

why it is the next day: (Arnav said last day that 'tomorrow is our suhagraat' and khushi said to di that 'in tomorrow's puja the shank will be with you' and everyone kept saying 'kal ki puja')

5 days to go to the completion of their marriage contact aka 8th day from when arnav started the countdown (aka 9th August)

why it is next day: (khushi woke up in the same attire of last night)

Arnav decided to marry khushi with full religious rituals and he got to hear 'I love you too,damn it' from khushi.

He did the deed,that he should had done days ago but couldn't , seek khushi's forgiveness.

4 days to go to the end of their contact marriage aka 9th day of the countdown (aka 10th August)

why it is next day:everyone kept saying sagun is next day.

I guess the point of this countdown is not valid anymore as we are at their Sagun ceremony.They were going to remarry soon.

Khushi admitted that she was his all along and Arnav got to know how much khushi respect his belief. So he made a concious effort to know about all the rituals of marriage for her, so that he could perform them properly for her.

3 days left of their contact marriage aka 10th day of the count down (aka 11th August)

why it is next day: ( 'coz Nk said in sagun that kal hum doka main milenge 😁)

Arnav and khushi got engaged and the fact that arnav put efforts to learn about rituals made khushi very happy.

Arnav showered khushi with kisses at the same spot where once upon a time a kiss was supposed to happen.

khushi beautifully address herself as 'singh raizada'.

he appointed a trained nurse for her father so that her mother could attend all the functions.

He chatted with her over phone before falling asleep.

2 days to to the completion of contact marriage of arnav and khushi aka 11 th day of the countdown (aka 12 August).

why it is next day: ( buaji was telling garima about the roka ceremony and then said in next day's kuldevi's puja you would be with me.I hope buaji was telling garima about the engagement ceremony that very day,not like 10 days later.)

Arnav entered the temple to accompany her to seek permission of her bestfriend for their marriage.

he said her that he loved the way she is and she didn't need to change at their date.

he also cheered her up when she messed up.

1 day to go aka 12th day of the countdown of Arnav and khushi's 6 month old contact marriage (aka 13 August)

why it is next day:( At their date the last day anjali asked shyam how would he come to the next day's function.)

Arnav sweetly recalled their mehendi moment.

He also tied her opened dori and had mehendi on his hand only for her.

He opened up to her fully about his past and shared his sorrows with her, letting her console him.

It's a little moment but its my fav, when he was flashbacking about anjali, then about shyam-khushi, he got frustrated and broke a vase,but later he was very calm and patient with khushi.

(to be continued)

My scattered thoughts (5b/?)

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi

12 notes · View notes

uptoolateart · 1 year

Text

Adrien's Fight for Self-Control - Pt 1

So, you’ll know by now that I have an Adrien obsession, because my inner child just relates to him so hard. I’ve wanted to talk about his fight for self-control for so long, and Season 5 is pushing the issue further – so here goes!

I’ve posted this in 3 parts for easy reading :)

Childhood Programming

Let’s get the basics out of the way. Adrien was home schooled for years, enabling his parents to select his friends for him - Chloe and Felix. The first decision Adrien makes on his own is to go to school. Plagg calls him strange for it, but it isn’t about school – it’s about those precious hours out of the house, without being watched, and being able to choose his own friends.

All his talents were chosen for him – fencing, piano, Chinese, etc. His career in modelling was forced on him. Even when he admits to Plagg that he wants to quit, he attends an expo looking for food booths, trying to find an identity through his kwami.

We see in ‘Wishmaker’ that he only ever wanted to be was what his parents wanted him to be. This implicates Emilie, too. Adrien didn’t just learn how to do all these things overnight, and he wasn’t home schooled only since she died. At the very least, Emilie allowed Gabriel to dictate their son’s life. One way or another, she had a hand in Adrien’s oppression.

Imprisonment

I’ve pointed out before that Adrien’s bedroom windows are covered in bars, and as Cat Noir he’s often shown using his cataclysm to break through bars. Keeping him at home all those years and moulding him into someone he’s not is another form of imprisonment – but so is the state of grief.

He doesn’t know it, but his home is a mausoleum, with Emilie’s body in the basement and statues in the garden. He’s trapped by the memories of his mother, and his father’s inability to move on. Adrien can’t live, can’t breathe. And for the longest time, I think he’s been trapped inside himself, struggling to get out of the shell that is the brand Adrien Agreste or even the character he made for himself as Cat Noir.

The Twin Rings

This is not to speak of the rings, which give literal control over Adrien in episodes like ‘Ephemeral’ and ‘Risk’. And let’s recall that Emilie had one of these, which again implicates her. I noted in Season 5 that Nathalie still wears the ring Gabriel passed to her in ‘Risk’. Chekov’s gun tells us that is definitely coming back. If she wanted, just what could she do to him?

Felix stole one of these rings, which was him trying to take back control of himself. Getting the peacock miraculous furthered this, and it waits to be seen what he’ll use it for. It’s clearly more than just self-protection. Adrien isn’t even there yet, but we know he will eventually surpass his cousin – because Adrien is not out for vengeance and hurt. I fully expect him to have a dark moment, but he will overcome it, because kindness is one of his greatest innate strengths.

Adrien’s Friendship Group

Moving outside the Agreste Mansion, let’s look at Adrien’s friendship group. How many times do they make decisions for him, or push him to do things he feels uncomfortable about? Even though we all know Nino means the best for him, in ‘The Bubbler’ he pressures Adrien into the birthday party that goes wildly wrong, and in ‘Party Crasher’ he leads all the boys to pressure Adrien into a secret shindig at the mansion.

All of this comes from the heart, of course – but these aren’t Adrien’s decisions. They’re Adrien being bossed around, just by people who mean better than his father.

Ladybug

We all know Ladybug bosses him around all the time, too. Worse than this, she repeatedly uses him, for instance as a weapon, and he sacrifices himself over and over again. We’re seeing this change in S5, the crucial moment being in ‘Reunion’ when Pharoah throws Cat down and Ladybug expresses concern that he got hurt. I’m pretty sure this is the first time she ever stopped to consider that he wasn’t invulnerable and might actually appreciate some care for his wellbeing. It was a long time coming, and ultimately it came about through Cat getting some self-respect and showing her that he was worth caring about. As long as he allowed her to boss him around, she was never going to stop. I don’t think it was done out of cruelty – she just had to learn.

Kagami

Kagami has never been shy and retiring. In ‘Frozer’ she tells Marinette that you have to be decisive and go after what you want. The way she talks about Adrien as her ‘target’ implies that she doesn’t really see him for him. He’s just an object of conquest, because this is how Ms Tsurugi has trained Kagami to think.

Kagami forces herself on Adrien, pushing a kiss on him that leaves him flustered, and he tells her he wasn’t ready. He dates her because she basically tells him to and he doesn’t know how to tell anyone no, at that point. In ‘Lies’ she pushes him against a wall and tells him that the silly side to him isn’t who he really is – ‘this is who you are’ (an intimidated mess totally cornered with no room to breathe or even stand up straight). He goes as far as asking, ‘Do you really think…?’ as if she might know who he is better than he does. But he ducks out of the situation and escapes, which is a key moment of development for him.

Even so, he doesn’t have the nerve to end things. Kagami is the one who dumps him. She calls all the shots. By the end of the season, in ‘Risk’ she calls him and tells him off for letting Felix literally take his place to stand up to his father, to enable Adrien to hide from his personal responsibilities. After barely seeing her through most of the season, she finally acknowledges that she pushed him around when they dated, and he let her and it was wrong. We can assume she spent the season self-reflecting on how badly she acted…but she’s right that it was half his fault. He enabled the behaviour, because that’s what he’s groomed for.

Ironically, the only reason he rushes back to the mansion to take back his identity after Felix stole it, and stand up to his father, is because Kagami told him to. I’m relieved Adrien didn’t get the chance to confront his father in that episode, because it would not have come from him. We’ll get back to this later.

Read Pt 2 here

55 notes · View notes

fateinthestars · 8 months

Text

This fanfic is taking way longer than I think I was probably expecting. Over 10k words and not the direction I was originally intending. (Not saying that's a bad thing, just the focus is now shifting somewhat in the middle).

So I guess for tonight I'll post something else I had in mind.

Out of curiosity I screenshotted the forbidden/blessed meter on Episode 12 of all the main path storylines. (May not be fully accurate cos you know there might have been re-reads on certain ones).

I'm gonna blank out whose is whose in the collage versions below and then reveal them from most blessed to most forbidden under the cut, with maybe some thoughts about the path. Spoiler warning, obviously.

Okay then... let's see:

I wonder whether anyone can guess what order this likely is...

Well let's get into it....

(And yes I might do the sequels and stuff later - the first story made more sense right now... for one thing I've played everyone's first story now finally. My completion for the other stuff is all over the place. I may still mention things form the later parts of the story here though, just as a warning).

So let's begin with...

1. Huedhaut

Huedhaut was actually the route I played first. I initially only bought the Wishes game (it's split into two games on Switch) so only had the choice of the six Wishes Gods.

Maybe I was drawn to him as one of the calmer seeming personas from the intro (Why would you pick Leon he already tried to drop you out of the sky!) or maybe it's because Aquarius is my own star sign.

I... kinda wish I hadn't picked Hue first. Not because I don't like his route, far from it. I think it's amazing, honestly, but...

I kinda didn't want to play the other routes after. I seem to recall it was only a fleeting hesitation but, well...

The God who sacrificed some of his stars to save his lover is reunited with her reincarnation... it just seems like fate if you believe in that kind of thing.

I do wonder what poor Hue is thinking at times during the other routes.

As to his later story lines? Well as it stands right now I've only had two forbidden endings, and one is one of Hue's other stories. (Iirc I fixed it to Blessed pretty sharpish so it wasn't that far into forbidden, but I fear a rant about Clotho and the King's actions in this route later on are for another post)

=. Ichthys

Okay I admit it. I'm pretty sure one of the main reasons I grabbed Punishments part of the game before the Switch sale ended was because I really wanted to play Ikky's path. Ikky probably resonates with me a lot actually. Not so much the pranks but everything else. And there were far more feels here than I was expecting.

I do like how looking at actions in other routes can sometimes take on a different meaning after playing their main routes and Ichthys is quite present in most routes...

(Oh and as a side note, spoilers for Promise of Infinity: You can raise MC as MC, King? Well fuck you in Hue's route. Seriously, fuck you).

Talking of presence...

3. Zyglavis

Yeah we've fallen down a whole notch on the blessed meter here but Zyglavis is totally my type of character. A cold front with inner turmoil but a want to maintain the balance. I'm an Ace Attorney fan and as someone who writes Miles Edgeworth a lot, Zig seems to be becoming a large presence in the fanfics (all two of them (if you include my wip)) I've written for Star-Crossed Myth.

=. Tauxolouve

If Hue is the God that feels the most fate like of the 1st Prologue Gods, then Tauxolouve is the one that seems the most that in the 2nd Prologue.

I do wonder a little though whether the slight clumsiness at delicate work was added as an afterthought to give him some sort of flaw because he does seem pretty much perfect to possibly a ludicrous degree.

Sure the others think he's a playboy but sheesh have some of them looked in a mirror lately? Partheno, Teo, and Leon have no right to say anything.

5. Krioff

Another drop in the meter but not quite as big as the last one.

I... don't have that much to say about Krioff. There's some nice moments in his main path but I have *only* played his main path and not even read his point of view yet.

=. Partheno

Ehh. I've got a feeling with Partheno's route I went more for what I thought was needed than what my gut reaction answer would be. I don't know what I was expecting from Partheno's route but I wasn't expecting... well I wasn't expecting this.

It might explain the creepy vibe he gives in other routes but... he's a bit of an odd one. It is an interesting idea but probably felt the least natural to play to me.

=. Teorus

I think Teorus was who I played second. Years ago one of the Otome games I played was Be My Princess and he did rather remind me of the one I got furthest in the path with.

I thought on the main path he might actually be a bit lower than this. I moved away from Teo for a bit because there's a certain scene in his main path that rubbed me up the wrong way.

His later stories are mostly much sweeter though - but I still doubt he'd ever rival Hue, Ikky, Zig, or Lou. He just gets wayyy too jealous and possessive.

8. Aiginourus

Oh Ai, Ai Ai Ai. I kinda love this utter idiot. I've been making fun of him in my recent nonsense posts but it comes from a place of love.

I think what you get with him improves as the storyline goes on. Plus his sequel has a scene where I burst out laughing. Not least because I actually genuinely selected that option.

=. Karno

I really like Karno. He might even be the most 'normal' of the Gods. But... he's always been looking out for you? I'm not sure he's the one I'd pick as the love interest. Maybe I'll change my mind like I did with Teo once I've played the later stories (only on 3/13 completion with Karno).

=. Leon

Leon was the last one I played the main story for (and I've *only* played the main story). It started pretty much how I feared but I was kinda surprised at the way it progressed.

11. Dui

Poor Dui. I adore Dui, but I suppose I should not be surprised at his meter only just being in the blessed for his initial story. It feels hard to handle things correctly and that's probably intentional due to the storyline here. If my four most blessed meters in this post are my top four, Dui might actually be fifth.

12. Scorpio

This meter is actually after an (admittedly very brief) attempt to fix it. I'm finding in my recent fic that I quite enjoy writing him but I fear using the reactions I think in the game that I am not at all compatible with the Scorpion.

His favourite food being rabbit ear apples though is adorable.

Scorp's might be at the bottom by my love meter screenshots but I suspect character wise he'll end up above Krioff and Partheno, and I won't rule out the later stories pushing him past Leon.

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

I hope that gave some insight into my thoughts about the game without going too spoilery, and I don't think I truly dislike any of them. And hopefully I haven't gone too vague either, but this post is already a massive ramble ^^;;

One random thing I need to say, and it's to do with Ichthys' bonus episode: Whilst it's funny I now can no longer get out of my head what would have happened had he used those novelty Taiyaki post the events of the second prologue...

Karno adores spicy stuff, he'd have wondered what on Earth the problem was. xDDD

#star-crossed myth #star-crossed myth spoilers #star crossed myth review/character rambling #scm #scm ramble #scm leon #scm karno #scm huedhaut #scm teorus #scm tauxolouve #scm aigonorus #scm zyglavis #scm scorpio #scm dui #scm ichthys #scm krioff #scm partheno

3 notes · View notes

ducknotinarow · 7 months

Text

For science, I had to do this xD, especially cause of a dumb thing on Twitter with Kezzie

What ABO type are you

"Eh I always knew I had Top dog Energy after all"

Mun kind of hates this result XD but also? it makes for to much sense when reading the descrption Raph in a way is always trying to prove himself to be an Alpha not liking to take orders, questioning authority mainly Leos XD and of course he is very protective of his friends and family. Raphael even himself soon falls into seeing that being his role and job to fill for his loved ones. Even if he often fears not being able to protect everyone. And though I say he is a switch he truly enjoys the top role.

and for fun why not the rest of my raphs, orginally done from phone why 12's is a screen shot but the rest I did at my computer after deciding I wanted to do my other raphs.

Alpha-Passing Omega

Congrats, you're an alpha-passing omega. Listen, we all have issues with how people perceive us. Deep down you're a soft little bitch, but you would die before admitting that to anyone who hasn't unlocked at least level 5 friendship with you. In social situations requiring someone to step up and take a leadership position, you will do so, but only if nobody else does first. Your public demeanor makes most people think that you're an alpha, but when you're around people you trust, you can admit that you need to be taken care of sometimes and be vulnerable. Just remember that it's okay to ask for help king.

"Pft whatever maybe i'm a little soft what of it?"

Considering his more laid back behavior this dose fit well. Raph when he needs to be can give of a more aggressive air when need be or when he dose get worked up. Raphael can be pretty bad about going alone on things and not often speaking up about when things upset him lole feeling he failed his detective course. That only Splinter found out he was taking. But Raphael can't even bring himself to fight a robot lool alike of his brother he's a soft bitch deep down especially when it comes to his baby girl uwu

True Alpha

Congrats, you're a True Alpha. Either you were actively trying to get this result to prove to your friends that you're not a little bottom bitch, or you're a true and proper Alpha. You're what most people would call a top, and you probably consider yourself a protective member of your friend group. You're the 'he asked for no pickles' kind of motherfucker, and I salute you for that. Thank you for your service to the bottom community.

"Course 'm an Alpha, why I take down anythin' 'hat thinks it can deal wit' me."

And then you recall this guy lies on his shell and spreads his legs for casey uwu but I agree he is fully alpha I mean look at how he's always quick to pick fights and prove him self better no matter his opponent loke Trax or even Leo. So yes he very much dose feel a need to prove he ain't a little bitch. Kind if why he tends to get aggressive sexually when Casey decides to call him princess. In a tad bit of sacrifice on his own end he dose sort of bite back on his pride it's honestly his biggest display of love uwu

True Beta

Congratulations on getting the normal wolf xenogender. When alphas and omegas are doing their intricate horny rituals, you aren't particularly bothered. You're attuned to the feelings of those around you, but you feel like your response on the social dominant/submissive spectrum is determined per situation, not per something intrinsic to you. You'll help out an omega in need as easily as you'll follow the directive of an alpha, and that swiss-army-knife kind of mentality is what we need more of in this batshit insane world. Thank you for your service king.

"I definitely like the Swiss army knife mention."

Honestly this result? I feel fits. In the SF comic and game despite the Fact he fits in with many depictions of Raph, its never him challenging Leo out a need to prove himself better because he disagrees with thie leadership. No this raph seems to have understood something Leo hasn't. They you tend to see later in most Raph's growth. Being a team. That's the only time Raphael tends to get harsh with Leo. And fits with hiw he can go either more Dom or sub with Casey he's pretty chill and relaxed either way. And well despite that whole mess they find themselves in? Raph handled things that happened pretty well for someone with a short temper.

True Alpha

"Fuck ya 'm! Ain't nothin' less mad dog of the team!"

The moment I saw Raphael go for protein powered for muscle build I knew this boy was be a pretty typical jock fill role xD and the fact he loves wrestling and joins the team even? Just tells me more I'm right hmjes rowdy and loud and all about violence he knows he's an alpha and everyone else gonna know it to he gotta use his rage!! I just see this boy ready to jump right into conflict needed or not because it's the best way to deal with anything clearly why he met his bestie and boyfriend uwu by kicking their ass. He's very aggressive in that he's not too hesitant about acting on his choices henjust gose for it.

#dash games #muse| hamato raphael

2 notes · View notes

elytrafemme · 2 years

Note

@evilpuzzlingpapercrown and also @eternallyworm because i haven’t been checking evilpuzzlingpapercrown recently and missed the latest response by several hours even though i was kinda online at the time

~ now here is the message that took me 2 hours to write (i got distracted)~

shimmying into your inbox hello hello an irl almost found out i was a system today by following one of my alter blogs. ✨yippie✨

tbh!!! idk if he actually realized because 1. he didn’t like the pinned post but 2. he sent an ask saying “omg it’s you” (possibly a reference to the inclusion of “my main is puzzlingpapercrown” in the top of the pinned) 3. he still might have not read the read more 4. i sent them the men and black gif and they were confused 5. i immediately blocked him from that blog and privated the pinned 6. we have had 3 conversations since then and she never mentioned it

conclusion? i have no freaking idea what i’m doing ever 💅

claps my hands together i am here. today. to talk. aka to answer the question you handed me in the last ask response but i have lots to say… so it’s another ask BABY. okay i’ll admit my typing style is kinda fucked right now but we’re managing

i feel like making some like short responses to some things in the response to the ask before covering the question so here we go (imagine me doing that silly drumming on the desk that like hyper salesmen do. or something)

freaking hyped that i have the dahlia hawthorn seal of approval. like for real we are quite thrilled. we are quite hesitant with interacting with anyone so i am thankful for this. there will likely be an ask one day in dahlias inbox(most likely from Jupiter tbh)

shaking hands on the switching thing. i think the worst time a difficult switch was like *trying* to happen was one of my drivers ed driving sessions. like in the middle of driving and my eyes are unfocusing and my brain is literal soup and that was a freaking moment for real. didn’t stop till i like got home and crashed. it also prompted me to think “hypothetically if i was a system perhaps and maybe that was a switch or SOMETHING”

okay and also that’s so interesting that there’s those tiny shifts in appearance for ya. i don’t know but it’s just interesting to hear an individual experience on stuff (for me it’s like a change in perception of my appearance. like i look different and feel different about how i look depending on who’s fronting. even if i look the exact same there’s something off in the brain and it’s so funky)

OKAY AND QUESTION YOU ASKED ME tehehe

“ do you also like... ever feel the process of a memory actively getting repressed?”

okay tbh yes. and it’s like uh. there’s multiple ways this sorta happens.

for starters i can very much tell when a period of time is going into the hashtag memory vault because i will have the worst memory of the events while they’re happening. most recently i can recall, i forgot in full basically everything about after 24 hours of it happening. everything i remember is what my sister said about it afterward. yippie!

however even smaller events i can sorta figure out that they’re going to be hashtag in the vault in the moment. it’s like our perspective feels small and maybe even blurry all around. and then even directly trying to recall events from within that moment are very choppy.

idk how to describe it but it’s there.

and! with some important information we’ve developed a system of like for fully logging information. so like an important memory we will sorta lock an image and singular thought into the brain regarding the event as a way to make sure everyone has a memory of the moment. this was a tactic we came up with long before realizing we were a system which is funny.

so a good amount of my memories from like a while ago are singular faded images with like a sentence of thought.

okay i realize this is even longer than before but i’m having the time of my life with talking about this hahdjfj okay yea

i also did stop for like an hour to look on instagram and fell down a rabbit hole of small buisness making makeup brands. yea

ANYWAY PEACE AND LOVE ✨💕✨💕✨💕✨ YEAAAAAA (but for real thank you for listening and talking i’ll try and respond in the comments this time)

HIYA!!! Hoping answering this activates something in me TM because I'm getting such nice asks on both my alter's sideblogs but i want them to front to answer them :((( hopefully they decide 2 say smth but for now just me Mare again!

absolutely fascinating and yet horrifying experience oh my God. see I'm playing with fire b/c the first person I would ever tell about systemhood is my best friend who is also the only person i know IRL that has access to this blog. so it's like I wouldn't hate it if xe sees this but also it's pretty dicey that it's written all over this blog and xe definitely could see it. but. shrugs.

still. goddamn that is either lucky or like. unfortunate. either way uhhhh hope things r alright with that

yep! Dahlia's approval is hard to acheive and I can say that because she hated me at first but now she's basically my older sister so we chill we chill. yeah idk she's a cynic so she likes The Good Intentioned TM and appreciates that u guys are like. so caring and kind to me all the time. and also finds you all funny. so like. thumbs up emoji

OUGH THAT'S AWFUL!!! HATE THAT HATE THAT. Long switches fucking SUCK don't know how long u all have those, typically ours don't last too long but the first time Nightshade fronted. hoo boy. that was a rough 30 minutes . still Drivers ed.... fucking SUCKS goddamn.

totally get that w perception, i think sometimes it's like that for us but usually even if our face looks the same there's something about the way we hold ourselves that's distinctly different. like how we set our jaw or the way our eyes slant or something. yeah!

THAT'S SO INTERESTING WAIT. the fact that you guys have a memory storing system for important memories is SO so fascinating and like. i'm so glad u have that bc that seems to be so helpful!!! from how u describe it at least idk i hope it's helpful! and the blurriness is interesting and also hashtag relatable; for us it's less blurriness and more exhaustion but at some point exhaustion becomes blurriness. at any given point in time if someone in the headspace wants me to not think about something they put my brain in sleepy mode and i can't think. assigned naptime at hosting

if any businesses stand out or seem super cool feel free to share with the class bestie

yeah :D u can talk to me whenever i mean that. im sorry im so bad at answering ur asks i always wanna give them my full attention unfortunately i have the worst attention span in the world. promise i love talking to u all though :D

#nightmare.ask #sleepy anon ☁️#long post #nightmare.system

9 notes · View notes

dahliawolfe · 20 days

Text

Rush

An ER fanfic

“Greene, to the nurses’ desk,” comes the announcement over the intercom. Bird sighs and pushes a curl off of her forehead.

“Damn it,” she hisses, finally getting the IV needle in. “There ya go, Grace.” The doctor stands, snapping her gloves off and tossing them in the trash on her way out of the curtained off room.

Brigid (Bird) Greene is an ER attending at Chicago County General, and she is on her third 12 hour shift of the week. “Dammit, Tanner, what the hell is wrong with the AC?” she growls as she makes her way to the lobby. The clerk, Tanner looks at her and frowns.

“The WIFI is down,” he answers simply.

“What the fuck does that have to do with the AC?”

“AC is WIFI controlled.” Bird rolls her eyes as she finally rounds the corner to the nurses’ desk. “Fuck,” she breathes when she sees her sister, Rachel waiting for her. “Rach? What’s up?” Rachel Greene Ernshaw looks up from her phone with a scowl. Rachel and Bird had never been close. Rachel was raised by her mother, Jen, while Bird was raised by her own mother, Elizabeth, following the death of their father, Mark.

“Brigid, hi. I left messages…”

“Right, sorry, it’s been a hell of a week.”

“Mm. I came by to remind you that Markie’s 8th birthday is this weekend. We’re having a party for him Saturday at 2.”

“Saturday?” Bird scratches the back of her neck. “I might be working Saturday.”

Rachel sighs and rolls her eyes. “Brigid, you can’t isolate us forever. You haven’t seen Markie and Jenna since Christmas. They hardly know you.” It was all true. Rachel was pretty judgy at times, and she tended to think Bird’s life choices were not as good as her own. And Bird honestly couldn’t stand those kids. Rachel spoiled them to no end, and they were terribly behaved.

“I uhh… yeah. I’ll try and stop by. 2, right?” Rachel snatches up her purse and glares.

“Brigid, you’re my sister, but I really don’t understand you sometimes.” With that, Rachel storms off, heels clicking on the worn linoleum on the way out.

“Uggggh,” Bird groans, laying her head down on the admit desk.

“Bird, Honey, will you just tell her she’s a bitch already?” Chuny jokes. “Mark is rolling in his grave. Jen raising her was not good for that girl.”

…

The tepid water in the women’s locker room at County felt delicious against Bird’s tired skin. The opening of the door and the blast of sluggish air that fills the room causes Bird to raise her head. A tall, blonde woman is standing in bloody scrubs. Bird recalls that a new trauma surgeon fellow came to County that day, and she assumes that must be her.

“Hey, it’s Greene, right?” the woman asks, beginning to strip.

“Uhh, yeah. Look, there’s only one shower. I’ll be out in 5.”

“You mind if I join you? I’m in a bit of a hurry. We’re both doctors, right? We know all there is to see.”

Bird is a little stunned. “I uhhh… ok.” This is awkward but honestly, saying no seems even more awkward, since it means more of the other woman standing half naked staring at her fully nude.

“Fuck yeah. Thank you!” she shucks her clothes, tossing them in the biohazard bin and steps in the water. “Your physique is glorious, by the way.”

“Umm…thank you.”

“Don’t suppose I could borrow some soap?” Bird wordlessly passes her a bottle of body wash, because she was not sharing her bar soap. “I’m Rhea, by the way.”

“Bird.” Trying to finish as quickly as possible, she vigorously scrubs her skin.

“Want me to wash your back?”

“No. Thanks. I’m done, actually. It’s all yours.” Bird packs away her things and wraps her towel around her before stepping out into the locker room area. Chuny gives her a wolfish smile.

“She’s hot, huh? The new trauma surgeon?”

“Not a word, Chuny,” Bird warns, making her way to her locker, just as a bare Rhea steps into the room.

“Whew, I feel better. Hell of a first shift, huh?” the blonde beams.

…

Bird plops down into the booth across from her mother, Dr. Elizabeth Corday. “Hi, Mum,” she greets.

“Hello, Darling. Rough day?”

“Just your typical day at County, ya know?” Elizabeth smiles.

“I remember. Are we still on for the gala tomorrow?”

“Shit. I forgot. Yeah. I’ll pick up a dress on my way home today.”

“Language, Brigid,” Elizabeth chides. “You need my card?”

“No, Mum, I have enough for a dress. Thank you.”

“I remember how much, or should I say, how little, County pays.”

Bird knew from a young age that she wanted to be a doctor. Her father had died when she was young, but she remembered him as a kind man, and she looked up to him. Elizabeth had stayed in Chicago for a few years before moving back to England, but that hadn’t lasted long, and she moved them to New York when Bird was 10.

Bird has always been the top of her class. She works the hardest. She proves herself the most. And she gives what ever she is doing everything she has. And she would like to think that her dad would be proud of her.

…

Bird steps out of her flat to wait by the curb for the car that her mother called to pick her up. She smooths her hands down her black dress and tousles her curls a little.

“Bird.” Comes the greeting from behind her. The accent is thick, and Bird closes her eyes and lets it wash over her. She knows who it is immediately.

“Luka,” she breathes.

∞

#er #elizabethcorday #markgreene #eremergencyroom #fanfiction #writing #ofc

1 note · View note

lobotomidori · 2 days

Text

hi again, lapis!! still dont know why you refuse to reach out and talk face-to-face instead of doing it this way, but whatevrr

here we goooo

// screenshot 1 //

// screenshot end //

at first, i honestly did not mind arissomei, but my opinion changed later on for a good couple reasons, and one of the main ones was that it just simply reminded me too much of a certain negative community i was in before i learned to accept myself for being a trans girl. im not comfortable going into that because its very personal, but thats what i am willing to give

i was still in contact with puffle because puffle had reached out to me every single time they discovered one of my accounts. they had told me directly that they did not mind me being radqueer and that they were just trying to keep an eye out for me and my safety. due to the kindness i had been shown from puffle at the time, i agreed on maintaining contact. additionally, xiao himself was still trying to be an anti, as the whole point of burningradqueers was so that we could hide from who we were because to us, knowing we had transids and knowing what our beliefs were was absolutely terrifying to us. we were not ready to accept the fact that we were someone who would never be welcomed in most spaces, so we tried to fix it, and that only made us more miserable.

but no, i did not run back to puffle, puffle just kept reaching out until our opinions on each other changed due to a number of things, and then they eventually stopped messaging me. i did not reach out on my own

// screenshot 2 //

// screenshot end //

thank you /gen. i dont have much to say here, but i do appreciate the apology. thank you for correcting yourself

// screenshot 3 //

// screenshot end //

like i said in my post, or at least im pretty sure i said something like this, but you do not have to be comfortable with the joke. a stereotype was used against me, with the actual anon saying something along the lines of "she only wants to be a woman so she can assault people. that's not very ladylike". i had gone on to vent about it in my discord server because this stereotype was being used to essentially tell me im not a woman, and that is when the joke was made. i admit, i do genuinely understand why the joke seems really distasteful, and im not going to act like its completely unreasonable to have a negative reaction to it, but as i still said it and still agree with my reasons for saying it.

// screenshot 4 //

// screenshot end //

i dont have much to add here besides that i fully and wholeheartedly believe that educated grown aduts are capable of giving informed consent to each other, regardless of relation to each other

// screenshot 5 //

// screenshot end //

im going to be honest, this part makes me really angry. not exactly at you, because i know that you dont really understand a lot of transid experiences (this is not meant to be passive aggressive btw /gen), but im ticked off here because transids are not JUST transids, they are a very important part of my — and many others' — identity. very simialr to my paras, sexuality, and gender, my transids and the feelings that cause them will always be there even if i choose to hide them. i will still be miserable and dysphoric as long as i am unable to transition. again, i understand that you dont fully get that, but i still felt this was worth pointing out.

note here: if you didnt mean it this way (like, as in you werent trying to imply that theyre "JUST transids"), then my apologies for the little rant

// screenshot 6 //

// screenshot end //

okay, gonna admit here, i was being a little stupid there and completely misread the word you used in your post. that is actually entirely on me, so thank you for clarifying here (is it poor reading comprehension? maybe.. dyslexia? also maybe..)

as for that other person's words, i dont recall ever making safe spaces for child groomers? if you could give me proof of that, that would be lovely /srs. i also treated the grooming allegations against me as discourse because thats what it was, it was a claim made and spread with zero backing or evidence over a supposed 3 year age gap. a 3 year age gap is not inherently grooming. grooming is when someone builds a relationship, trust, and emotional connection with a child or younger person so they can manipulate, exploit, and abuse them. a 3 year age gap does not inherently do that.

i did take the situation seriously at first, and i made this exact same point (3 year gap ≠ inherent grooming), and antis continued. at that point, it DID become discourse, but i will admit that i did cause it by identifying exclusively with my true/intra age

// screenshot 7 //

// screenshot end //

that is true, however i would have much preferred being happy being perceived as my actual age instead of my body's age. once more, i did misunderstand the word used in your original post due to me misreading it, so again, you are mostly right here despite tiny tidbits of seemingly missing context. even then, that missing context isnt a huge deal here, its more just people using "grooming" in places where it doesnt fit or misusing the word. i did still claim to be my actual age instead of my bodily age, and that is on me

i forgot to save the screenshots of one of the things in your post, lapis, so sorry about that. but anyways, the way you pointed out the programming, to me, seemed like you were saying that my identity only exists the way it does due to him, which would imply that my trauma is who i am. if you didnt mean it that way, my apologies, thats genuinely just how it comes off to me.

#🌿 — midori.txt

2 notes · View notes

kats-alcove · 2 years

Text

After-School Activities: Chapter 4

|ch. 1|ch. 2|ch. 3|ch. 4| ch. 5| ch. 6| ch. 7| ch. 8|

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None!

Summary:

You’re a relatively innocent University student, so why are you interested in the school’s BDSM club?

Read it here on AO3!

Aizawa insisted you stay for dinner.

When you woke from your nap still wrapped in his embrace, you had been fully prepared to slip away to get dressed and leave. That was what people did after random hook-ups, right? However, as soon as you stirred, his arms pulled you tighter against his bare chest. You debated trying to break his hold but ultimately decided against it. While you were certainly strong, there was no way you’d be able to beat Eraserhead .

“You don't have to go yet,” Aizawa murmured.

You started in his grasp. “I thought you were sleeping!”

“Mm, dozing.” Aizawa sat up, pulling you with him. “But why were you trying to leave?”

“I-I don't know,” you admitted. “I just figured that since we were… done, you probably had other things to do.”

Aizawa sighed and scooped you into his lap. Gently but firmly, he tilted your chin to meet his gaze. “When I said I had today off, Y/N, I meant that I have nothing to do. I wanted to make sure I would be free to help you however you needed.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “So tell me. What do you need?”

“I don't need anything, really! I would hate to put you out any more than I already have.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” Aizawa’s voice dropped into his dominant tone. “You are not “putting me out” when I am offering to help you. You're probably still mentally unsteady, not to mention physically tired and hungry.”

“I’m not-” the grumbling of your stomach interrupted you. “Ok, maybe I am hungry.”

Aizawa’s demeanor softened. “I thought so. C’mon, let’s head to the kitchen.”

And so you found yourself perched on a stool at Aizawa’s kitchen island, nursing another glass of water while he whipped up a quick meal at the stove. You swung your legs, fingers drifting from the cool glass to the smooth marble countertop to the edge of the oversized t-shirt Aizawa had given you to wear. While you hadn't realized it at the time, Aizawa had actually given you one of his shirts, not the one you had packed. The dark material was soft and it smelled like Aizawa when you lifted the collar to your nose.

Your mind drifted back, thinking about what had occurred just an hour or so before. But it wasn't the explicit stuff you were recalling: it was the way Aizawa had taken care of you, had taught you, guided you, praised you. You had never felt so happy and calm, once you had gotten over your initial anxiety. It felt good to give complete control over like that, to not have to think at all. You were a little scared of just how much you liked that feeling, and how much you already wanted to feel it again.

The clink of ceramic against marble startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see that Aizawa had placed a plate in front of you before sitting down at the stool next to yours. He pushed a pair of chopsticks toward you, prompting you to glance down. There was a small mound of egg fried rice, as well as what looked like chicken in some brown sauce.

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled at your companion. “You really didn't have to…”

“I know, but I wanted to. Now eat.” Aizawa gestured with his own chopsticks.

You took a bite, pleasantly surprised to discover that Aizawa was in fact a good cook. There was nothing extraordinary about the meal, but it was simple and filling and very yummy. Aizawa waited until you had eaten a good portion of your food before speaking again.

“So, do you feel ready to talk about what happened?”

You took a sip of water. “I think so, yeah. But what is there to talk about?”

“Well, let’s start with how you feel about how the scene went,” he said, turning to face you. “And be honest.”

“I feel really good about how things went, once I got over my anxiety.”

“What was causing your anxiety?” Aizawa asked.

“Just first-time nerves, I guess,” you shrugged. “But I knew it was coming, so I could work past it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy Aizawa. “All right. Was there anything specific you liked or didn't like?”

“I liked pretty much everything. As for dislikes…” you hesitated, and Aizawa encouraged you with a roll of his wrist. “I know we haven't talked about this in too much detail, but you mentioned punishments? I don't know how I feel about that.”

“Elaborate, please.”

You sighed. “It’s just, I’m doing this for fun and for relaxation, right? So the thought of getting in trouble for something, of being punished, kinda scares me.”

“That is understandable, Y/N. I should have been a bit more clear.” Aizawa admitted. “When I mentioned ‘punishment’ I was referring to a BDSM concept known as a ‘funishment’. Have you ever heard of it?”

You shook your head and he continued. “Whereas a punishment is given as a consequence to correct a behavior and is something the sub will not enjoy, a ‘funishment’ happens during a scene and is something that is fun for both the dominant and submissive. For example, a submissive could act bratty so that her dominant spanks her. However, since she wanted the spanking, it becomes a fun ishment.”

“Oh.”

Your cheeks warmed at the thought of Aizawa bringing his large hand to smack against your rear. Was that something you would like? You weren't sure, but judging from your reaction to just the idea, you didn't dislike it. You filed it away as something to be explored later if you ever got up the courage to ask for it.

Aizawa noted your reaction but didn't comment on it. “We can discuss the inclusion of these later. Is there anything else that happened you didn't like?”

“No, that was it.” You placed a hand on Aizawa’s arm. “I enjoyed myself, really! You had fun too, right?”

“Yes, Y/N. I had fun.” A tiny smile curled at the corners of his mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a sub as obedient as you; most of the ones I usually work with are hardcore brats. I forgot how much I enjoyed having a good girl like you.”

Aizawa practically purred those words into your ear, making you shiver and squeak. You covered your face to hide your flushed cheeks when you heard Aizawa’s deep, rumbling chuckle. Embarrassed, you reached out and gave his shoulder a none-too-gentle smack. But he caught your motion, hand coming up to capture your wrist and tug you to the edge of your stool.

“Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do have a bit of brat in you after all.”

You hurriedly looked up at Aizawa, ready to apologize, only to see that his dark eyes were full of gentle teasing. He swooped down to peck a quick kiss to your lips before releasing your wrist and nodding at your half-empty plate.

“Another thing to explore at a later date. For now, finish your food.”

“O-ok,” you said, still a little flustered. “What do you want to do after, or should I go?”

“Do you have any homework that’s due this weekend?”

You shook your head. “I got it all done during the week.”

“Clever girl,” Aizawa praised. “In that case, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. We could watch a movie, or I have some books if you’d prefer to read.”

“I wouldn't mind a movie, as long as…” you hesitated for barely a second. “As long as we could cuddle? I still don't feel like being too far from you right now.”

“That’s perfectly normal, especially after your first scene. We can cuddle as long as you like,” Aizawa promised.

And so you and Aizawa spent the rest of the evening snuggled together on the couch with a movie playing in the background, though you weren't really paying too much attention to it. Instead, you were savoring every last moment you got to spend like this; you back pressed against Aizawa’s chest with his arms around your waist. You trailed your fingers over his skin, committing this feeling of warmth and safety to memory. With how busy your schedules both were, who knew when you would get to meet up like this again.

All too soon for your liking, the sky began to darken. Aizawa turned off the TV and gave you a gentle nudge. “It’s getting late. You should head back to campus soon.”

“Don't wanna,” you pouted, rolling over to bury your face in his chest.

Aizawa chuckled. “As adorable as that was, Y/N, we both have responsibilities waiting for us in the morning, and you will need a good night’s sleep.”

With a groan, you hauled yourself off the counter and trudged to the bathroom to change into street clothes. In there, you took a moment to admire the marks Aizawa had left on your chest. They were a tiny bit sore to the touch, but seeing them made you feel oddly warm inside. You brushed your fingers over the marks one last time before dressing yourself.

Stepping back into the living room, you saw that Aizawa was already waiting with your coat in hand. He held it up for you, the picture of a perfect gentleman as he helped you into it. Coat on and bag in hand, all you had left to do was step into your shoes.

But you hesitated.

Aizawa noticed; of course he did. With a gentle tug, he pulled you close. His gaze searched your face as he tried to discern the cause of your hesitation. Finally, he saw it, a question you were too nervous to ask simmering in the depths of your eyes.

“Ask me, kitty-cat,” he rumbled. “I can't help you if you don't.”

You swallowed. “Can you… can we text more often? I don't like the idea of having no contact with you until our next scene.”

“Of course we can. If I may make a request of you as well?” You nodded and he continued. “Take care of yourself for me; balanced meals, lots of water, plenty of sleep.”

“I-I can try, but why?”

Aizawa smiled softly. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Y/N.”

His words were so sweet, so filled with genuine care, that you couldn't help but kiss him. Your arms wrapped around his neck even as his hands closed around your waist. Heat flickered through you, the urge to deepen the kiss rising, but you resisted. If either of you took things any further, you had no doubts you wouldn't be leaving that apartment until tomorrow at the earliest.

With a final chaste peck, you stepped back and slipped on your shoes. Aizawa stepped around you to get the door. “Have a safe trip home, Y/N. Text me when you get to your dorm, alright?”

“I will. And Aizawa?” you turned to look at him standing in the doorframe. “Thank you for everything.”

Aizawa raised a hand in farewell. “No, Y/N. Thank you."

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #Kat's Writing

77 notes · View notes

violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY THREE || THE ORIGIN OF BLIND OBEDIENCE 2

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : swearing + mention of violence + mention of hell + mention of killing + mention of fire + mention of burning + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 16 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.5k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but….

↳ previous episode : the origin of blind obedience

↳ next episode : accomplices

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, this isn’t by best piece of work since it’s been a while (taking a break does affect my typing skills, i can’t lie ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ) but i hope you enjoy this episode and for a hint of the next and final episode, it will be about Y/N’s past...like a time line may i say...NO MORE HINTS FOR YOU ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’.

Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai : 5:04-5:17

Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku : 3:56-4:05

Binding Curse Spell number sixty-one: Rikojokoro : 2:08-2:14

Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but if you have read the manga...you know what Sukuna did)

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better…

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“That’s a bit rude to say, don’t you think? Have some respect child,” the woman uttered in annoyance before you violently pushed your katana forward causing your opponent to be shoved away to some distance leaving space between you both.

“Respect goes both ways, you drag,” you replied back as you processed to raise your katana with a hint of excitement lingering within the blade as your cursed energy began to automatically flow to the black blade like the river you were near right now within the domain you were in.

“Don’t you think we should take this fight outside? I don’t want your little friends to get in the way,” your opponent queried. However, that question went from one ear to the other ear for you as you began to figure out what the plan was right now since you and your classmates were now dealing with two to three opponents.

‘Time...how much time do I have....how much time do I actually need?’

“It’s not good to daze out during a battle, what happens if I suddenly attack you?” the opposition taunted, yet you still didn’t have some sort of reaction like she wanted, causing a frown of irritation to gradually appear on her face.

Suddenly, you began to transfer some of your cursed energy to your arms and legs before swiftly pushing the ball of your right foot to push yourself forward before processing to swing your katana down, surprising the women in front of you as she quickly raised her metal tonfas to narrowly block your ambush, only for your other hand to reach the side of your belt to speedily unhook the polearm that was hanging on the side before fully swinging it towards the side of your enemy’s body.

Utilising some more cursed energy, the polearm immediately extended causing the metal pole to harshly smash into the side of the woman’s hip causing her to groan loudly in pain before hurling downwards like she was going to vomit, only for your foot to suddenly make contact with her stomach as you used your cursed energy to enhance the strength of your kick causing your opponent’s body to be thrust forward at a rapid rate as it pushed itself passed the wall of the domain you were in.

“You guys make sure to deal with that curse and the domain, I’ll handle her!” you shouted at your classmates in a panic before forcing yourself past the barrier of the domain that you were in to run after your attacker leading you to come back to where you were in the beginning, under Yashachi Bridge.

Currently, in front of you, was the woman crouching down while coughing in pain as she clenched her stomach causing you to take a few steady steps towards her body while raising your polearm over your head leading the woman to her to raise her head only to see the murderous look in your eyes causing a large wave of utter terror to consume her.

From all the years she had taken care of you, never once did she ever come to view the look that you were wearing right now. When you were just a child, you were somewhat of the quiet type and never really had the effort to make any friends yet for some reason, people were able to come up to you for help and you would gladly offer your guidance to them. From her view of you, never once you had expressed such extreme emotions as you did now.

“When did- When did you become like this?” your opponent muttered while groaning in pain causing you to look at her with a lack of emotions as you began to slowly detach yourself from every memory of the woman that was at the lowest point right now. “When did you get this strong in such a short amount of time?” she questioned angrily, before slowly coming back up on her feet before raising the metal tonfas that now had a noticeable slanted side causing you to realise that your katana had cut through the metal.

However, before you could even observe your opponent’s weapon further, she suddenly came forward towards your direction, leading you to lower your polearm to use it as a guard which caused her right metal tonfa to come into contact with the dark blue metal. Quickly, you forced your foot to dig into the soiled ground to hold onto the dominance you had in this fight before swinging your other hand to make use of the katana you had in your other hand only to suddenly make your opponent come to view with the handle but without the blade that was usually there.

“Oh...sorry...I forgot I activated the technique,” you announced in a low tone causing your attacker to look at the ‘weapon’ with complete confusion in here eyes before an unexpected gust of wind came causing a few pink petals to come into view as the flowed past both of you and the woman you were fighting.

“But you didn’t activate your domain expansion...how are petals surrounding us right now?” your opponent stuttered as more petals began to surround you both leading the woman’s eyes to widen as she was coming to the realisation that she was now going to be en-caged by the flowery technique.

“Why should I tell you? It’s more fun to keep a few secrets here and there, you know,” you answered as swiftly slide the handle back into the wooden sheath that was hanging behind you to proceed using your free hand to grab the upper area of the pole before violently pushing the pole forward causing the metal tonfa to be released forcibly from her tight grasp following by you thrusting the polearm forward which lead to the sharp blade to slit a cut on the cheek of the woman in front of you generating a wince out of her.

Continuing your sequence of attacks, you let your upper grasp from the polearm go, causing you to pull your hand back, spawning a large wave of petals to follow along, leaving no time for your opponent to react as a multitude of petals from behind to beginning cutting her left arm in the process with no mercy whatsoever.

Screaming through the pain, your opponent attempted to pull her arm away from the surprisingly brutal attack, only for the petals to keep it anchored in the pink wave leading more slashed to be produced in the process before all of the pink petals separated themselves out into single petals to act like normal petals falling from cherry blossom trees when in reality, you were the one controlling them.

Now with her one side covered in blood and cuts, the woman’s grip for her left metal tonfa was getting weaker and weaker by the second, unable to keep a hold on the only weapon she had right now. “You’ve become a monster…” the woman muttered as she observed the horrid sight of her arm before turning back to look at you, only to find your arm raised up like you were pointing at her.

“Destructive Curse Spell number four: Byakurai,” you chanted quietly, leading the familiar high-density of cursed energy being discharged from the tip of your index finger to form a concentrated bolt of lightning causing your opponent to use her right hand to grab something from her pocket before throwing it towards the direction of the sparking blue blast causing the thunderbolts to explode destructively leading the ends of the light to hit the ground causing massive cracks and indents to be created.

‘Shit...maybe I shouldn’t use as much cursed energy like that again…’ you thought as you tutted at the result of the women’s defence before facing forward again to check the smoke that was soon clearing.

‘The use of jewels condensed with cursed energy is something she can do...I completely forgot about that. If I can recall, they can be used like bullets meaning they are fast...a little too fast for the petals…’

As expected, there was a sudden hint of light coming through the smoke leading a few jewels to shoot through the smoke before it cleared, leading you to rapidly gather enough cursed energy to your hand at a speed you rarely needed to be at.

“Binding Curse Spell number eighty-one: Danku!” you shouted leading a large clear rectangular wall to swiftly manifest in front of you, blocking the jewels as they exploded the split second they made contact with your shield leading a massive gust of wind the rush past. Without any sort of hesitation, the wall suddenly disintegrated while you swung your arm up leading the pink petals around you to follow your lead as you noticed the woman’s shadow moved up as the smoke continued to clear itself as the petals moved past it leading to your attacker’s eyes to widen once she noticed you were following her movements even when she was in the air.

Once you moved your hand to the right, the wave of petals began to move the same direction, causing the lady to notice that the massive wave was now behind the body leading you to swing the same arm downwards to engulf her as your raised the metal tip of the blade of your polearm to where you last saw her body before it disappeared within the sea of petals.

“Binding Curse Spell number sixty-one: Rikojokoro!' you chanted once again, leading to your cursed energy to manifest a spark of yellow energy on the tip of the polearm’s blade, which summoned six thin, wide beams of light that harshly slammed into the midsection of your opponent, causing her to fall from the sky resulting in her body slamming to the ground to which then you could observe how much damaged the petals have generated.

From your sights, there was a multitude of cuts to the woman’s body, all over her legs to the apples of her cheek, making the one you had caused earlier seem like a minor training injury as blood began to slowly descend from each opened wound which was too many to count. However, it seemed as if the woman wasn’t going to give up easily as she shockingly began to sluggishly lift herself up with her feet.

“You...heartless child...is this what you jujutsu sorcerers’ stand for? You...have never...asked...for what we want, and here you are...stabbing us without question...Y/N, we need you for what we want to achieve, don’t you want to know...what that is?” your opponent muttered, leading blood to drip from the corner of her mouth once she managed to stand on her feet leading you to smirk before a giggle began to emit from your mouth, shocking the woman, who you once used to call your mother, as fear began to cloud her expression once again.

“You expect me to ask! That’s the funniest thing I have heard to date hahaha, don’t make me laugh, you drag,” you responded before covering your mouth with your free hand as petals began to flutter around again as if they didn’t cause the horrific injury scattered around the woman’s body right now.

“Understand this, you can’t ‘need’ me...don’t drag me into your plans,” you mentioned with the smirk widening before transferring your cursed energy away from the polearm causing it to narrow back down into the small section just like how it was handed to you by Gojo before hooking it back to your belt. “Me, a monster? I can understand why you would call me that, it is expected from you curse users and cursed spirits haha,” you muttered in a taunting tone before opening your palm leading to some of the petals flying about to come towards your hand.

“Let me admit, I realised this quite late...or maybe it’s because of the mental state that I am in right now. The crown that I have been given by the people within the jujutsu world isn’t enough for me...being a queen on the chessboard isn’t enough yet I don’t have a god complex like Gojo Satoru...there are people below me and will forever stand below me...and you are one of them,” you announced before laughing in front of the women’s face as more petals began to gather within your open palm.

“Sukuna may sit on his throne but I will forever stand on my feet like I always do for my domain expansion...I hold the four pillars of the jujutsu world meaning the clans are within the palm of my hand...yet...they can burn within the second I want them to,” you sinisterly explained leading the petals within your palm to start burning.

“Remember this even after your death, you drag...I will always win...because I am L/N Y/N… the head of the L/N clan...I...will...always...win, see you in hell when I get there,” you stated with venom lasted into your tone before standing sideways as you used your other hand to grasp onto the flame before pulling it back like a sting of a bow as the fire manifested itself to shape like a large arrow

“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before shooting the flaming arrow towards the woman causing the burned petals to stab the woman within the chest before it consumed her body with its violent flames leaving you to view the gruesome slight with no emotions present at all on your face as petals began to manifest from the flames before joining with the other petals that were flowing around the area you were in.

Taking the handle of your katana out, you allowed the petals to gradually merge together to generate the black blade that was supposed to be there before sliding it back in its wooden sheath.

“Should I run?” you question yourself in a quiet tone, as you turned your head back to see the forest that was standing behind you, opening its arm to let you escape again and disappear from the world of jujutsu sorcery like you had since the beginning. However, in the back of your mind, you knew that Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki were going to come looking for you, yet by the time they had the chance to, you would have been gone by then...gone somewhere far away.

“Should I run?” you whispered again as if you were waiting for someone to answer your question. However, as you had expected, nothing but the wind answered you leaving you in a state of confusion but weirdly peaceful as well. Now that you thought about it, this was the first time in a long time you were able to be alone with yourself and your thoughts due to you being disturbed by Gojo or anyone within the Jujutsu Tech institution as well.

Steadily, you turned your body to fully face the forest that was now tempting you to run into.

Slowly, you took one step forward.

424 notes · View notes

definitelynotcesia · 3 years

Text

Scenery

there's something about the afternoon school glow and confessions that go painfully well together.

pairing: college!kim taehyung x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 1k

"it wouldn't hurt if you ask him, y/n", jungkook said for the second time since your trip to the storeroom.

"but his answer would", you replied while readjusting the box of decorations in your arms.

it's already 5 in the afternoon yet the university remained abuzz with preparations for the week long school fest that will start tomorrow. the two of you volunteered to pick up the boxes of decorations needed for your class’ booth, taking the time to chit chat along the way.

"and you'll just wait until he finds a girlfriend?"

you gave your best friend a faint sigh as an answer. though as petty as it may sound, the thought of him being with another girl seethes through your skin. you have been pining for that man longer than you'd like to admit. over those years, you felt like you deserve atleast a priority pass among the long line of admirers he have, but you can't even bring yourself to talk to him properly.

a squeal from the distance broke you off your train of thoughts.

"well, it seems like its gonna happen anytime soon", jungkook said from behind, also looking at the sight before you. a crowd of highschool girls surrounding taehyung, one stands in front of him carrying a huge stuffed teddy bear and a bouquet of flowers.

"what do you think happened?", you asked jungkook curiously.

"i dont know, he probably got confessed to again", he replied. you sighed at this, if only you can be as brave as those highschool girls. "or what if... its him who confessed?"

you look up at him only to see his doe eyes turning into crescent moons and face turning red from stifling a laugh. you glared realizing that he was just teasing you.

"oops, i have released the craken", jungkook blurted knowing exactly he’d receive smacking in the next few seconds.

“you shithead!”

“why is it that every time i see you two, you’re always fighting?” a voice you were all too familiar with spoke from your behind. it was deep and soothing, yet cold enough to send shivers down your spine all the time.

“oh look who do we have here, the lover boy himself”, jungkook greeted the taller guy, emphasizing the word lover boy to tease you even more.

“knock it off, kook”, the love of your life replied while miserably failing to hide a toothy grin.

what does that smile even mean? did she accept that girl’s confession? or... did the girl accepted his? but he wouldn’t be here alone if either of my suspicions were right, right? you thought.

“hello, earth to y/n?” yet again you heard his deep voice. if a simple greeting sent shivers down your spine earlier, him calling your name ignited thousands of fireworks in your system taking a whole minute to comprehend what was going on.

“im sorry, what were you saying?” you asked, cheeks flushed with embarrassment for spacing out.

“pffft”, jungkook snickered. you eyed him hoping he'd get the idea that you're already hyperventilating deep inside and you need assistance.

"oh", the younger started, as if understanding your signal. "i just remembered that i forgot something! i think i need to get it back", he added in a very animated tone almost as though he was doing it on purpose.

your forehead creased at his nonsense. now, what fuckery is this jeon jungkook?

"perfect timing tae. can you bring this for me?" he asked pushing the box to the other guy almost knocking the air out from him. "don't worry and just go with y/n. she knows what to do, right y/n?"

you coughed at his sudden action, yet before you can object, he was already out of sight leaving you and taehyung alone.

"so... are you okay?" he asked.

"y-yeah. totally", you replied hoarsely. you didn't know what to do so you decided to continue walking to where you were supposed to go. you felt the boy follow you.

"what's with you and jungkook?" he suddenly asked causing you to fully stop on your heels.

"nothing", you quickly replied. if there's one last thing you would like to happen, it's that your crush would misinterpret your closeness with anyone as a sign of unavailability. regardless, if he'd date you or not.

"you sound defensive", he teased.

"n-no i'm not! im not dating anyone. i promise", you emphasized causing him to laugh at how you were visibly panicking for some reason.

"okay. that's good", he replied and continued walking.

the silence between the both of you started to grow, making you feel very uncomfortable. you were clearly given the chance to be alone with him and talk but you're insides went too haywire to think of anything to say or ask.

"are you dating someone?" realizing how desperate and stupid the question came out, you gave yourself a mental facepalm. out of all the things that you could ask, this was the one you chose.

"you don't have to answer...", you quickly added trying hard to conceal the blush that's slowly creeping in your cheeks.

"no. but i do like someone", he replied in a voice deeper than his normal one, which could've caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter, if not with the sudden realization of what his answer meant.

"she must be very pretty", you whispered.

"she is", enthusiasm evident in his voice as if talking about her makes him the happiest person. "shes... i would say, unique? she has this little quirks that make her very adorable. i think she has a strong personality, though i wasn't able to get to know her that well yet."

she seems like anyone but you. you hate to get into self-loathing and comparison, but you were everything but strong and unique most especially when he's around. you recall how you turn into a painfully awkward mess who can't even look at him in the eyes— which is also a common trait for atleast a portion of his admirers. so yes, not unique at all.

"why not?"

"i don't know. i always get shy around her", he replied laughing a little bit. "to me, she's perfect"

she's lucky.

"well... does she... does she know about it?" you cautiously asked, more for your sake that his.

"i don't think she does, because if she knows..." he turned his almond eyes towards you, making you gasp at the breathtaking scenery in form of a man that he is, "she won't be asking right now."

— end.

cesia's masterlist.

the amount of editing that this piece went through before i got satisfied 😩 hope you liked it though ♡

88 notes · View notes

lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #dimitrescu daughters #resident evil village #fanfic #double edged scalpel

145 notes · View notes

uptoolateart · 1 year

Text

Adrien's Fight for Self-Control

Warning: This is one of my long ones! I've broken it up with some fanart :) I’ve also posted it in 3 separate parts, for easier reading.

Childhood Programming

Imprisonment

The Twin Rings

Adrien’s Friendship Group

All of this comes from the heart, of course – but these aren’t Adrien’s decisions. They’re Adrien being bossed around, just by people who mean better than his father.

Ladybug

Kagami

Becoming Cat Noir

As Cat Noir, he gets the opportunity for some degree of freedom, although it leads to a similar situation – again, he’s a celebrity icon no one truly knows. He can’t be himself – he’s a character.

In S5 we saw Ladybug and Cat Noir go back in time and meet Master Fu without him knowing their identities. It got me thinking – did he remember them from that and did it lead to his judgments in who to choose as the miraculous holders, later on?

Then I was thinking for the umpteenth time: why did he select Adrien for the cat? He must have watched Adrien and Marinette for a time before entrusting them with such responsibilities. He had to have known who Adrien was – he’s a global celebrity, after all. Maybe he saw the pretty perfect boy and thought this kid needs to get out more and have some fun – there’s a fire in his eyes that needs expression. Maybe he saw the goodness in there, too.

I can’t help but think Adrien has this self-destructive streak, which pairs well with his power. It’s almost like someone said, let’s give you the ultimate power of destruction and see what you do with it. Because he could very well use that cataclysm on himself, or his father. We’ve seen this hinted at multiple times, such as in ‘Guilt Trip’ and ‘Cat Blanc’. But when that power is literally in your hands, not just theory…could you actually use it?? This is Adrien’s test. I’ll touch on this more, later on.

Emotions

So, we’ve looked at how Adrien is controlled, and struggling to take back that control over his own life. But self-control is also about managing your emotions.

We see moments like in ‘Sentibubbler’ when he smashes down a wall and stares at it in surprise, like he didn’t even realise he had that in him. In New York, he cataclysmed Uncanny Valley and realised for the first time that he’s basically a god of destruction. It hadn’t previously occurred to him just how far his power could go – he doesn’t remember ‘Cat Blanc’. From that point onward, we saw him have more and more of these ‘dark’ moments where he loses control of himself because his feelings best him.

This also comes out in the way he forces his feelings on Ladybug. But in ‘Glaciator 2.0’ and then ‘Kuro Neko’ he comes to terms with this and begins to change. We could see Kuro Neko as a symbol of how far he let it all blow up – but by the end, it’s just a tiny black kitten in need of tender care. That’s what Adrien is inside.

Similar to the cataclysm, part of Adrien’s journey is learning the art of restraint. Only someone in total self-control can truly wield the power of destruction.

Strike Back

The moment at the end of ‘Strike Back’ changed him, letting him see that Ladybug had actually been struggling with self-control all that time too. I mean, we could write a whole essay on that too, but briefly: as Marinette and as Ladybug, she comes up with all these elaborate schemes and dictates what should happen, as a means of controlling the outcome of literally everything. When things don’t work out as she planned, she melts down. This is classic anxiety. She needs to learn to let go more, and we see this happening in S5, especially in ‘Passion’ when she is paralysed and it’s down to Adrien to come up with all the ideas and release the akuma.

But sometimes you need to break completely before you can build yourself up again, and that’s what happens in ‘Strike Back’ when she has that panic attack. This is also the first time Adrien steps up and takes charge – simply by being kind. This is his true identity, after so much time trying to figure it out.

That strong stance at the end, just showing her that he will never stop being there for her – letting go of all the romance and seeing what really matters, being her friend – that was powerful. Remember moments like in ‘Party Crasher’ when Fu told him to think sensibly and not go rushing in, and Cat stared blankly before hurling himself at the villain and getting captured. In ‘Strike Back’ he could have done something similar – gone after Felix, for instance. But Adrien pushed all of that aside, took responsibility and just showed up for Ladybug. When she looked at him with new eyes, it was because she was seeing a Cat Noir in total control of himself and his emotions.

Alliance

This paves the way for a new Adrien in S5. At the end of S4, in ‘Risk’ we saw Marinette show him understanding and support about his frustrations with his father dictating his life. In S5, far from just doing what Kagami told him to do, Adrien thinks of Marinette’s words of encouragement and he makes the decision for himself – to quit modelling. It’s on his own terms. We can also see this as the direct result of him being forced into cataclysming a human for the first time, which we’ll look at next. The point is: he’d had enough.

Unfortunately, Adrien’s freedom is granted via Gabriel designing Alliance. Now Adrien is owned by just about everyone. And let’s not overlook the fact that this is all done via rings. There were first two rings wielding power over him, and now there are millions. In a story where identity is such a strong theme, this is an act of identity theft in perhaps its darkest form. Not just that, but in ‘Elation’ we see fans chasing Adrien down the street again, thinking they know him or have a stake in him.

Importantly, I believe Marinette is the only one not wearing one of these rings. She is the only one not trying to own him – and this is paralleled by her making the decision to let him go as a love interest.

Cataclysm

We can’t look at this subject without examining ‘Cat Blanc’ – particularly that moment when Hawk Moth revealed himself as Gabriel and Cat’s first impulse was to cataclysm his own father, in full knowledge of who he was. He stopped himself at the last second – but it was foreshadowing. Similarly, Cat struggling to decide who he should listen to and obey, Ladybug or Gabriel, was foreshadowing.

Jump to S5, in ‘Destruction’ Ladybug made a complicated plan (again without telling Cat in advance) that involved tying him to Monarch, cataclysm charged as a threat. I think this was probably Ladybug’s worst moment, and I do hope the show has her reflect on things like this, as the series goes on.

Monarch is the one who forces the cataclysm. Adrien has now initiated his own father’s slow painful death, completely against his will. It’s a turning point, because then in ‘Jubilation’ after Cat’s dream is shattered, he knowingly and purposely launches his cataclysm at Darker Owl. He stops himself at the last second, but you can see it in his eyes – he nearly lost control and he’s terrified by the power of his own rage.

As an aside, when that dream fades, we could see this as Adrien being forced to give up the dream of being with Ladybug. It’s no coincidence that the very next episode is ‘Determination’, where he’s moving on to Marinette.

Exaltation

And now we push on to ‘Elation’, a strange title choice in English when the original French title ‘Exaltation’ is a word in English, as well.

I prefer ‘Exaltation’ because of its additional meanings:

1. A feeling or state of extreme happiness

2. The action of elevating someone in rank or power

3. The action of praising someone or something highly

Moreover, in astrology exaltation refers to the state of total awareness in relation to a particular planet – in other words, owning the qualities that planet symbolizes.

Not only was this episode about the joy Marinette and Cat Noir both felt for a while, but Adrien / Cat’s elevation as a person when he exercised the greatest self-control he could.

He gets his wish – Marinette kisses him – but he stops the kiss because it’s the right thing to do (as I’ve discussed in a previous post). He had exactly what he wanted, but he refused to have it on deceptive terms. He won’t push someone else around the way he’s been pushed around all his life.

This is not a needy Adrien / Cat Noir. He’s not reached his full potential yet, but he is definitely well on his journey.

Owning Your Cat Blanc

Finally, I leave you with a brief extract from my fic ‘Breaking Free’, where I explored the theme of Adrien’s need to own his Cat Blanc. The truth is that we all have one and we can’t just get rid of it. That potential is always in Adrien and that’s part of what he’s battling with.

We’re unlikely to see anything like this in the show so directly, but this is what I’m waiting for symbolically, expressed however the writers want to do it:

‘Cat Blanc,’ he said, bold enough to be heard over the sound of metal beginning to collapse beneath them. ‘I’ve been afraid of you ever since Marinette told me about you. But that’s just because I’ve been afraid of losing control. If I’m a blank slate….’ He glanced down for a moment, then gave a brief laugh and met Cat’s eyes again. ‘That means I don’t have to live up to anyone’s expectations. I don’t care what my father thinks anymore.’

He paused and savoured that epiphany. ‘I truly don’t care. He’s not even my father. He’s just the figure in this reality who’s been tasked with raising me. But I’m something beyond just his son Adrien, and he’s something beyond being just my father. There’s more to be explored.’

Then, without giving his former opponent time to respond, Adrien leaned in and embraced Cat Blanc, speaking softly over his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to defeat you. I accept you. You’re flawed – but you’re part of me, and that’s okay. I never wanted to be perfect anyway. I’m not afraid of you anymore.’

Come on, Adrien - you're nearly there!!!

39 notes · View notes