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jals-stuff · 19 days

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hi girlie!! i see that your requests are open... can i pls request hurt+comfort on orter with a flirty girl reader pretty please??? the lack of orter fics is crazy T_T

(guess who btw :3)

why hello there, dear. I'll guess you are m***i, and I agree, there aren't enough works on him.

Anyway, here's a poorly, quickly written one. It is supposedly proofread but it's 5am and I am very eepy!

Just a flirt!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

“Took you long enough.”

You blinked a few times as he looked up from his paperwork, and mostly at the report you were holding. You had spent longer than necessary on this paper you’d received from Renatus, correcting rewriting the entire thing as it was just full of mistakes and this jerk was too lazy to give you anything that was decent.

“What, did you miss me that much?” You raised your eyebrows with a slight smile as you chuckled to yourself. Oh yeah, that was funny. Orter didn’t seem to find it amusing, as his expression didn’t really change at all. You made your way to his desk and sat on the chair facing it, handing him Renatus’ report.

He decided not to dwell on that stupid remark of yours and started reading the paper, taking notes on the side and making sure nothing is missing. Meanwhile, you were staring carefully studying his expression, and every single small nod he gave while reading.

“Renatus isn't usually this thorough with reports. Colour me surprised.” He blankly said and slid the report inside one of his drawers. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a proud grin. “Renatus gave me a piece of scrap, so I rewrote it entirely using the information he gave me.” you stated, crossing your arms as you looked at him, visibly waiting for some praise.

He stared blankly for a second and sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, (Y/N). Very good work.” Though he was praising you, his expression didn't change that much and you could just feel how exhausting it was for him to give compliments.

“Mm, mm. That's right. I’m always good with my work when I know you'll review it…” You trailed off, looking at him with a satisfied smile and a small wink. He raised both eyebrows at your obvious flirting and chose not to comment on it, but you weren't done anyway.

“Anyway, I think I deserve more than just a little compliment! I rewrote the entire thing, you know?” You playfully pouted, putting on a dramatically sad, puppy eyes expression for him. Orter pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh; he knew you wouldn't back down anyway.

“That was amazing work, (Y/N). Rarely have I ever seen a report written with such incredible finesse and precision.” He said blankly again, and it was clear he didn't mean it that much, although there was a part of truth in his words that he refused to admit, even to himself.

“Thank you, thank you.” You chuckled, knowing very well that he was exaggerating, but seeing as he played along, you decided to push your luck a little. “So what, am I getting a reward for all this hard work?”

Even if his expression didn't change, you could read him like he was an open book. “Was the praise not enough?” was probably what he thought at this point. You could've stopped there and brushed it off as a joke but your ego had been flattered just enough to make you bolder.

“How ‘bout… a little kiss? Just on the cheek! Like mwwwah!” you mimicked a kiss while pointing at your cheek and were absolutely convinced that your imitation was flawless. Of course, you were partially joking, and assumed he would just sigh and dismiss your comment, but no such luck.

“I have better things to do than to entertain your delusional little fantasies.” He simply spoke and grabbed his pen again to fill out some of his paperwork. Ouch. But that was his whole personality anyway, of course he wouldn't give you a little kiss, you already knew that, but hearing him say it this way tugged just a tiny bit at your heartstrings.

“No fun.” You sighed and crossed your arms on top of his desk before nesting your chin in-between them. “I am being highly underappreciated here.” You whined dramatically, and then regained your usual smug expression. “That's okay though, you're still my favourite.”

You could tell you were slowly but surely getting on his nerves, and it was kind of amusing to see him have to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on his tasks again. He was already being very patient by allowing you to laze around in his office when you had free time, but he was gradually starting to regret this decision.

You were already done with your work for today, and sat in Orter’s office simply to enjoy his company. He knew, and for some reason he tolerated your presence as long as you didn't disturb him too much.

Was any of your flirting serious? Of course it was. You genuinely liked him! You had been blessed with a sweet voice and a pretty face, and most of your colleagues at the Bureau would've dreamt of being in his place right now. He was very much aware of that, but it seemed off to him.

Even though your coworkers kept flirting around with you and quite literally trying to slide in your pants, you had denied every single one of them. From nameless staff members to the Flame Cane, none of them had your attention except Orter, and all of your flirting surely showed it… or so you thought. Things were awfully different in his mind.

Now, you were just looking at him and his paperwork, fiddling with some trinkets on his desk. Being in the same room as him was almost enough for you, but you kept feeling this physical need to flirt with him, to demonstrate how much you liked him, and you would've thought he had a clue, as you kept making it painfully obvious.

His eyes travelled to your hands as he put one of his papers down. “Stop it.” He ordered, and you immediately let go of the trinket you were toying with in a deep sigh now.

“But I’m bored.” You mumbled, and he put down his pen, his hands now joined on top of his desk. He looked at you for a bit, your almost childish behaviour was starting to irritate him slightly.

“Then leave.” He raised his head slightly as he took off his glasses to wipe them. “Nobody asked you to sit here and disturb my work with your… immature antics.” Ouch, another one, but at this point, you were used to his spiky remarks and simply shrugged it off.

“Aww, but I'll miss you if I leave, you know~?” Again with the puppy eyes, making your expression unnecessarily dramatic again even though you meant every single word you said; but saying it in a completely blank tone would embarrass you way too much. “And I know you'll miss me too, hehe.” You playfully added.

He put his glasses back on and gave you a very stern look and raised an eyebrow very slightly. “Surely, there are other victims that await your attention somewhere else. Why not pay them a visit instead of constantly disrupting my focus?”

He sure was in a foul mood today, wasn't he? But his comment felt like a sharp blade into your stomach and you just needed an explanation for it. “What is that supposed to mean?” Your flirtatious demeanour was temporarily suspended as you weren't quite sure what you'd just heard.

“Are you already done seducing your other colleagues? Must I suffer your incessant flirtations in their place now?” He asked again, and it didn't sound like he was being sarcastic at all, but at least you now knew.

“Orter… are you jealous?” You asked, and your tone was dead serious. It was inimaginable that he could ever feel jealous about something so petty— something you hadn't even done in the first place.

He took a deep breath. “Nonsense. This is wishful thinking; I am merely aggravated by your attempts to turn me into one of these loyal… dogs you have around at the Bureau.” he scoffed, and you could tell he was not pleased with your behaviour.

“...what?” was all you could utter, as you looked at him in disbelief. “You don't know how wrong you are about this, clearly.” You didn't want to be rude to him even though he really deserved it right now, but you seemed to be testing each other's patience.

“How wrong could I be? These people are head over heels for you. Surely, this doesn't happen without a push.” He firmly stated, and again, he was wrong. “Whatever have I done for you to think I’ll be one of them?”

You had always hated arguments, but having one with Orter was the worst that had happened in a while. He was fully convinced that you were but a flirt, a temptress that relished in having people crawl at her feet… but that wasn't it, and these people weren't exactly crawling either.

“How can you say such a thing?” You looked at him in heavy disappointment. “How could you think such a thing, after all of… this?” After all of the obvious flirting you gave him, the endless remarks about how you miss him when he isn't around or your constant winking.

He was just staring in religious silence, thinking you'd give up and simply admit your faults so he could go back to work without any disturbance, but he was once again very wrong, and you needed to justify yourself.

“Why would I flirt with anyone other than you at the Bureau?” you asked, standing up from your chair and placing both hands on the desk in front of him, and he simply adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Because that's who you are, it would seem.”

You sat back in defeat, looking at him, completely dumbfounded. Every word you wanted to say ended up getting swallowed in the whirlpool of emotions you were feeling, and you couldn't do anything else than stare at him. You could physically feel your heartstrings being pulled now and it was disturbingly painful.

“Is…” you swallowed your emotions down before trying again. “Is that really what you think? That I'm just the type of girl to flirt around and just… sleep well afterwards?” Your tone made it obvious that you were hurt, and it didn't go unnoticed.

But he was convinced. Convinced that your flirting was not a rare occurrence, that it extended beyond the limits of his office, that surely you had already done it before and he was probably just one of those targets you'd use to boost your self-esteem. Even though he was upset with you, his goal wasn't to hurt you, and he decided to avoid your question, not knowing what to answer anyway.

“I don't even know why you're trying to justify yourself that hard.” He finally sighed and grabbed his pen again, which was his way of telling you that this conversation was over and you had to leave; but you wouldn't let go just yet, not before you had said your piece.

“Because it's you we're talking about.” You blurted out, once again flabbergasted by how dense a man could be. “How straightforward do I have to be for you to understand? Have I not been vigorously flirting with you?” You asked loudly, almost laughing nervously.

“You sure have, but—”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I am into you? That I want to spend time with you?” Oh, you had no will to listen to his flawed reasoning and you just couldn't take it anymore. You were trying your best not to tear up in front of him already, and any more of his baseless accusations surely would make a sufficient push to make you cry.

“I never said you didn't d—”

“Then why are you so blind to my feelings?” You interrupted again, but this time way calmer. You sat back, weakly plopping down on your chair and staring down at his desk for no apparent reason. He didn't really say anything. In fact, he was processing the information you had just given him.

You felt terribly awkward after your half confession, and that clumsy part of your personality couldn't take the silence anymore. “How can someone that dense be in charge of the Magical Power administration..?”

Were you jesting? Probably. But what else could you do anyway? Your main goal was to keep your composure and hold your tears back, at least until you were out of his line of sight. His eyes were on you, they had been the whole time, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him anymore.

“May I speak now?” He asked, first of all wanting to make sure you wouldn't interrupt him anymore, and only now did it occur to you, how rude you had been these last few minutes. You gave a nod and he sighed deeply, joining his hands against his desk and looking at you with a bit of a softer expression.

“I never said you haven't been straightforward.” He started, and now that you were a bit calmer than before, you could feel your shame grow at his words. “I never said you didn't do all these things you talked about so… fervently. I am merely saying that I do not believe you are exclusively trying to seduce me.”

You sighed again, and he braced himself for another rant but instead of justifying yourself again, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. Looking all sad and defeated wasn't like you at all, and you needed to prove yourself to this dense, silly, overworked man.

“I don’t get it. Why does the fact that I supposedly am flirting with other people bother you?” You decided to ask, your arms crossed over your chest as you were now back to studying his expression and tone. If you were going to cry, so be it, but you wouldn't go down without a fight, especially for him.

He takes a minute to think, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What bothers me is the way you act with those people, and how you pretend to be innocent afterwards.” You gave him a confused look and he decided to develop. “The way you politely smile at them and make small talk. You're almost inviting them.” He said that while keeping his straight face and cold glare, completely serious.

Oh. Oh.

“So you are jealous.” You couldn't help but smile a little and finally look up at him, only to be met by an utterly confused Orter, ready to absolutely deny your claim.

“I am not jealous, (Y/N).”

“What if I stopped talking to all of them then, would it make things a little better?” You offered, suppressing a smile and pretending to act serious. He seemed to think for another minute again and leaned back into his chair.

“Yes, I believe it would.”

Ah, you couldn’t take it anymore and just burst out laughing; he didn’t seem to like it very much but it was impossible to resist. You just had to make sure again, and so, you slowly regained your composure and caught your breath, then exhaled deeply. “So, let me get this straight…” you started, and he listened. “What upsets you is the fact that I am supposedly flirting with other people, and if I didn’t smile at them or made small talk, you wouldn’t mind my flirting?”

You did not miss that sigh of relief. He adjusted his glasses again and crossed his legs, looking at you very seriously. “I am glad to know that you have ears.” He said blankly, his expression still so cold as his eyes landed on yours again. “Are you making fun of me now?” His voice sounded slightly irritated and you had to calm yourself down again.

“No, not at all. But you just admitted to being jealous so… I win.” You could feel all of your earlier worries dissipating. He wasn't denying it either, instead looking like he was thinking about your reasoning; you had him cornered now.

And the best part about all of this is that he has no clue what he just signed up for.

#orter mádl x reader #orter x reader #orter madl x reader #orter madl x you #orter madl #mashle x reader #mashle #mashle imagine #mashle fluff #mashle x you #mashle x y/n #madl orter #mashle orter madl #orter mádl #mashle orter

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distilled-prose · 1 month

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You're forgetting the misconception about Democrats. Not all Democrats are "Leftists". Not all Democrats are against guns. That said; there is a slight difference in a semi-automatic rifle and an AR-15. Yes, I know the AR doesn't stand for "Assault Rifle". The difference is in the looks of a rifle and the use of the rifle. As many has said, I can use my AR-15 to hunt. Yes, you can but, why would you want to use that to hunt deer? I've got a 308 semi to hunt deer but I use my AR-15 to hunt coyotes and pigs. The purpose is to annihilate a species that is invading a territory and causing harm to the environment. Oh! There ya go! A mentally deranged person would do that at a school or a mall with an AR-15 because.....they're fucking deranged and they don't deserve to own that weapon because they have a history of mental problems and they had a friend buy that gun for them or they lied about they're history or whatever. Special permit to own that gun and extended background checks paid for by the the person buying the gun and, red flag laws upheld by Law Enforcement. Period.

Dear Anonymous, Like the question I recently just answered, a couple of things: Thank you for being polite. I wish I knew what prompted the comment/question. That said, you know the second amendment wasn't enacted to protect hunters rights, correct? And just for the record, I am not a hunter. I found early in my life I did not like killing things. But I enjoy target shooting. And I enjoy a variety of weapons in that endeavor. I also know from personal experience that not all democrats are anti-gun. I had a meeting with my attorney several years ago about my wife's and my will. He was a state representative (Democrat) who was wanting to run for a recently vacated senate seat. The discussion turned to that nomination process. He said his position on guns would be a big stumbling block for him in getting the Democratic party's support. (We lived in a rural community.) He did ultimately get the support and won the senate seat. But by his own acknowledgement, the Democratic party did not like it.

My son was a sheriff's deputy for 10 years, and he would quote statistics to me all the time. The majority of mass shootings are committed with hand guns, not long guns, and certainly not by AR style long guns. You are more likely to get killed by a driver misusing a cell phone while driving than to die in a mass shooting. In fact, (I think I am remembering this correctly) a person is more likely to die by a teenager misusing a cellphone while driving than to die in a mass shooting. He also pointed out that Great Britain has a similar number of violent deaths per capita as we do (excluding deaths in this country due to self defense). But in England it's with knives. And now you need a permit to buy almost any kind of knife in England. And look up the statistics of people having acid thrown on them in England. It's crazy. Lastly, I am the second oldest person I know of on Tumblr. As a grade schooler I would hear my parents, their friends, their neighbors, talk about the horrors surrounding and leading up to WWII. Not just the German persecution of Jews, but the Stalinist purges, the atrocities committed by various governments against their own people. Our neighborhood back then had a number of families supporting displaced persons. One neighbor in particular used to tell my grandmother whenever he saw the Texaco big red star it absolutely infuriated him. He just wanted to climb up the pole and tear it down. He lost his whole family in Russia. They were defenseless in one of the purges. Your conclusion regarding the mental heath crisis in this country I believe is correct. Not only the crazy mass shootings, but the homelessness problem, the out of control drug use, etc. all point to a lack of support for people who are struggling. I would offer, however, that your proposed solution will not correct the problem, merely shift it (as in England). Solving the problem at its core is essential. Thank you for the comment.

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paracosmic-murdock · 7 months

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Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 16: "Danser est un jeux dangereux"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: The Queen's Ball finally arrived, and with that, another encounter with the Ton. Unwanted or not, quite the encounter: Benedict, a friend from the past, and, of course, Miss Prince... However, this time you had a plan that would give you the upper hand for long enough.

Word count: 2.4K

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"It is…"

"Absolutely stunning."

"Indeed." you agreed.

You and Lady Danbury were in your bedchambers as you tried on the ballgown the Queen had sent for you.

"She certainly is rooting for you and Mr. Bridgerton."

You chuckled. "She is quite invested. There is a high likelihood that she is more invested than us altogether."

"It would not surprise me," she mentioned. "The Queen wants a victory for herself and something to do in that lengthened free period of time in her hands."

"I suppose our interests have aligned this one time."

"Very," Lady Danbury added. "You look fabulous, my dear."

"Thank you for saying that," You smiled. "Is it enough, you think?"

Lady Danbury nodded, approaching you with an apprehensive glance. "If Mr. Bridgerton makes you feel like you are not enough for him to like you, then he is the one that isn't enough."

"With all due respect, my Lady, it seems like something easy for you to say," You sighed. "You are an accomplished woman, you have lived a life, I am certain, but I… I am on the verge of having nothing. If it does not work with Benedict, I must find another husband before-"

She noticed you stopped yourself and frowned. "Before what?"

You sighed. "Before my Grandfather tells the King of France about what I did. Then, he will forget all about my Father's will, say that he would be disappointed in me; I will be sleeping under a bridge in a heartbeat right after that happens."

"My child, I am so incredibly sorry that this is happening to you," She pursed her lips. "But do not dare believe we will ever let you sleep under a bridge!"

"Figure of speech, I think," You gave her a thankful smile. "It means so much to me to know that I have your support."

"You will never not have it, dear."

You entered the venue next to Lady Danbury, your arms intertwined. A graceful walk, characteristically yours, accompanied your presence and caught the Ton's attention.

"All eyes are on us."

She chuckled. "On you, my child. Leave me out of it."

"Is this what abandonment feels like?" you chided.

"It might as well be."

You shook your head with an amused smile.

"My apologies for the intrusion," the gentleman said, giving Lady Danbury a respectful glance and you a comforting one. "May I have this dance?"

You looked at Lady Danbury, and she nodded, letting go of your arm. You took Cortez's hand he was offering you and followed his lead.

"It is nice to see you again."

You sighed. "Likewise."

"I'm sorry for the scrutiny you have gone through," he commented. "I met you both ways, and I can say first hand that you deserved better than being exposed so ruthlessly. You are a very talented artist, regardless of your gender."

You felt your cheeks go warm. "Thanks, Mr. Cortez."

"Lord," he corrected you. "My Father, he passed."

"I am so incredibly sorry, my Lord," You looked at him with sympathy as you danced. "I wish for everything to go well at your home. How are your Mother and your siblings?"

"We are all fine, it was almost two years ago," he replied, letting out a small laugh. "In other circumstances, Antoine would have been getting drunk with me and talking about the cycle of life."

"As long as chaperoned, Lady Y/N can do that as well," you offered. "We were… friends, right?"

He chuckled. "Very good friends. I would have trusted you if you had told me it was a lie without question, and I would have kept the secret without hesitation if you had confided in me."

"I am thankful for that, and I hope we can remain friends."

"You will always be welcome in our home," he promised. "One of my sisters, Maria, advocated for you fiercely. As if she knew the whole situation; I am sure she would love to meet you someday."

"I would be more than pleased to," you answered. "Would you have introduced her to Antoine?"

"Oh, absolutely not." You both laughed.

And once that dance was over, you saw him leave with a smile.

You returned to Lady Danbury's side, then.

"How did it go with Lord Cortez?"

"Well enough, my Lady."

"Did you know him from before?"

You sighed. "He was both my suitor and friend from the Academy."

Lady Danbury laughed. "My child, you have one of the most coveted gentlemen of the Ton wrapped around your gloved finger."

"What?" You frowned.

"That man will come to my house the day after tomorrow at the latest with flowers for you and an invitation, I assure you."

"No way, he will not!" you exclaimed.

"Shall we place a bet?"

You nodded. "We shall."

Both you and Lady Danbury laughed until a collective presence joined you. You smiled politely.

"It is lovely to see you all tonight." you greeted them.

"Us as well," Anthony replied. "You two ladies look absolutely ravishing."

"Why thank you, Lord Bridgerton." Lady Danbury smiled.

Colin approached you with a knowing look. "May I have this dance?"

Your eyes met Benedict for the first time that night, and the look of disapproval in his face made you smirk internally.

"Of course, Colin." You smiled, taking his hand and following his lead.

"I've not gotten a chance yet to let you know how glad I am that you're in London again."

You nodded. "I am most thankful, Colin; and I am glad to be back as well."

"Did you miss me?" he joked.

"Of course I did," You laughed. "Now, did you miss me?"

"I believe that, only second to Ben, I am the one who missed you the most."

"Eloise would beg to differ."

Colin chuckled. "My sister, she doesn't truly count."

"How so?" you asked with a smile.

"She just does not, no reason at all."

You shook your head in amusement and turned around, catching sight of Benedict and her.

Her.

You despised her with every inch of yourself. You did not want her near him, for Benedict was yours, was he not? He made sure you knew that, he told you he was yours in more ways than one… He did by making love to you once and twice, he did by telling you he loved you, he did by asking you to be his wife. He was not hers, even if she were to be his wife instead of yourself, Benedict Bridgerton would always belong to you and you only. And even if you were to spend the rest of your life by someone else's side, you still would have been his. He is yours and you are his, always and forever.

That must be why you parted from Colin's side before the dance even ended and rushed to join them. The smile you dedicated to Miss Prince was theater-worthy, you knew.

"Isn't this evening lovely, Miss Prince?" you asked politely, giving Benedict a longing stare.

She nodded. "It sure is, my Lady."

"Quite lovely," you repeated, looking around. "I, uh… I have heard you are the novelty of the town, am I right?"

"I am, yes." she confirmed.

"I sort of am, as well," you mentioned, seeing how Benedict rolled his eyes beside you. "This morning I thought of it, Miss Prince… You and I are in almost a similar position currently, so it is barely logical that we stand together."

"Y/N…" Benedict muttered under his breath, apprehension joining his voice in delivering the message: don't you dare.

You could not possibly care less.

Eloise watched from afar beside her mother and Lady Danbury.

"Is she being friendly to Miss Prince?" the youngest questioned.

"She is such an unstoppable force," Lady Danbury noted. "What on Earth could she have in mind?"

Lady Bridgerton sighed. "She certainly is a determined young lady."

"I agree!" Miss Prince exclaimed, excited to maintain relations with a figure like you.

"Would you like to join me as I pace around the ballroom?" you offered. "I should greet the Queen and thank her for having us tonight."

Benedict let out an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, I'd be honored!" she replied, being it hard to believe for her that you could greet the Queen just like that. For the sake of her curiosity mostly, she agreed and walked beside you after nodding at Benedict to inform him that she would take her leave.

"Are you and Benedict close, Miss Prince?" you asked, swallowing the discomfort it would cause you to hear the answer.

"Quite," She blushed. "I am sure we will be engaged to be married before the end of the month."

You nodded. "I hope everything goes well between you and Ben," you added, using the nickname that denoted closeness you had never said before. "He is the sweetest man I have ever had the pleasure to meet. Trust me, there is nothing more enchanting than the look of longing in his eyes. The spark of light his loving smile turns on in your heart. His assuring words full of adoration, the enamored stolen glances… If you have all of those you are most fortunate."

Miss Prince frowned. "H- how… how do you know that?"

"You surely cannot believe you are Ben's first round," you warned her. "If you are curious enough, why don't you join me at the modiste tomorrow afternoon to help me pick a new dress? I shall tell you meanwhile."

She nodded. "You know him very well, do you not?"

"You couldn't imagine, Miss Prince," you replied. "Why the question, if I may ask?"

"I was wondering if you think he would make a fine husband," she said. "Could his art be enough to provide for me? For our children? To have a nice home where we could host balls and dinner parties?"

You frowned. "Well, Miss Prince, he is a Bridgerton. I am not sure whatever you could be looking for that makes you believe he would not be enough…" You looked her up and down, making sure you were sending the corresponding message. How could she even dare speak that way about him? "... for you."

"I didn't mean it like that…" she was quick to defend herself, however baseless her arguments would be.

You hummed. "How did you mean it, then?"

"Uh, I might as well tell you tomorrow over pretty dresses, right?"

"By all means," you said. Cynical. "A fair amount of time to make up your mind. I respect that, Miss Prince."

Your mood changed as you approached the Queen.

"You look absolutely astonishing in that dress, my child," she smiled widely. "It certainly suits you very well, it is one of my best presents to date."

Around you, everyone heard the Queen's words and looked at you, the Queen's protégée.

"I am most thankful, Your Majesty," You smiled. "Certainly the most beautiful dress I have ever tried on."

"It suits you gracefully!" she exclaimed. "No one apart from me looks nearly as breathtaking as you!"

"Oh, I could never dare be compared to your gracefulness, my Queen," you commented. "Thank you for saying that, nevertheless."

She smirked. "Enjoy your evening, my Lady."

"Well, the Château de Germolles is owned by my cousin, but every other property that belongs to the Dukes remains mine," you said, sipping your champagne. "The two of you are most welcome to stay in any of my homes… As I am aware you enjoy the countryside, Anthony, allow me to offer the Château du Clos de Vougeot."

"The vineyards are there if I'm correct."

"They are indeed," you confirmed. "I would be honored to welcome you at home."

"Only if I am guaranteed wine for dinner." Anthony joked and Kate rolled her eyes.

You laughed. "For breaking the fast, even."

"When can we go?"

"Right now if you wish."

"What are you laughing about?" Lady Bridgerton interrupted your conversation as he reached you along with Benedict.

"Oh, Y/N was inviting me and Kate to spend a season in France."

"There are enough rooms for each Bridgerton to sleep in... Eight is perfect if we include Daphne and Simon, so all of you are welcome."

No one paid real attention to the calculations except for Benedict, who frowned.

Each... Mother, Anthony and Kate, himself, Colin, Daphne and Simon, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, but how about Hyacinth?, he counted.

"Aren't you undercounting?"

You shook your head with a suggestive smirk. "I guarantee you I am not."

Realization hit him, and he suppressed a smirk. You meant he wouldn't need a room.

"You know what? I will honor that offer, if you allow me to join you once you return to France." Violet interrupted the suggestive conversation everyone was starting to comprehend finally.

Anthony and Kate looked at each other with a knowing smile, trying not to laugh at your suggestion of sharing your own room with Benedict.

"Of course!" you shrieked. "I shall show you the entirety of France."

"We should all join you, actually," Kate smirked, looking at Benedict, who was staring at you without an ounce of shame as his brain took your commentaires in. "Don't you think, Benedict?"

He was taken out of his trance by the mention of his name, not knowing whatever Kate meant or anything else that was mentioned during the conversation. So he only managed to say yes.

"That is wonderful!" Lady Bridgerton grinned. "You know what? You two must dance."

"Uh, Mother…" Benedict tried to deny, but you were quicker than him.

"You are right, Lady Bridgerton, dancing would be suitable."

He pursed his lips reluctantly, but ultimately took your hand in his and walked somewhere you could dance.

"Wasn't dancing a dangerous game?" he asked after clearing his throat.

"Well, I like taking my chances. Plus, we're supposed to have a conversation, don't we?"

"Not like this, no." he whispered.

"Then how?" you questioned him. "This is a perfect opportunity."

"I shall visit you tomorrow morning at Lady Danbury's so we can speak privately."

You looked each other in the eyes when he said privately and you let out a soft sigh, one that showed your mind had taken a turn, and, judging by the whimper you let out, Benedict could guess the question he would ask had a response he would enjoy, especially after what you had implied about him not needing his own room.

"What are you thinking about?"

You gave him a suggestive glance and kept dancing with him, and once the dance was almost over, you replied in a whisper, so close to his ear that your hot breath caused goosebumps. "About all the things we used to do in private."

taglist: @yentroucnagol @crimsonincursive @czarinera @uwumd @omgnctchina

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton x you

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 325: Deku VS the Outside of U.A. ~Conclusion~

Previously on BnHA: Ochako was all “dear bloodthirsty mob, this kid you see standing before you has fought harder than anyone and put his life on the line to protect you all, so please chill the fuck out, jesus christ. like, putting aside that he’s humanity’s best hope and so it’s very much in your best interests to let him rest and recover someplace safe so that he can keep fighting for us, are y’all seriously going to turn away an injured and exhausted child in front of his sobbing mother?? seriously?? come on now.” I’m paraphrasing here but that’s basically how it went down. Anyway so then the mob was all, “...” and Deku collapsed to his knees in tears, and Gigantic Fox Lady and Kouta ran over to give him a hug but then the chapter ended.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “FINE, YOU CAN HUG HIM”, which, was that so hard?? The U.A. Clown Mob is all “come to think of it, we’ve kind of been taking the heroes for granted this entire time, maybe we should be less passive in the future. anyway so Deku if it’s not too much to ask, can you please save everyone and fix everything.” Deku is all “I sure can, and by the way I forgive you for swarming around all menacingly two minutes ago and trying to deny me basic shelter and stuff.” Ectoplasm is all, “hey Todogang get a load of this. [walks in a circle].” Hawks is all, “that’s literally the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rat Principal is all, “anyway so that’s what your students did today, hope you’re enjoying your new *~*ROBOT LEG*~*, Aizawa.” Aizawa is all “[lots of exposition about Kurogiri and for some reason, Toga, while being all brooding and sexy].” All Might is all “[standing here right outside of U.A. doing absolutely nothing and being foreboding AF]” and that immediately sucked away all of the warm fuzzy feelings from the hugs, goddammit.

each new week has become a waiting game of “when will Deku finally get to take a bath so people will actually be willing to go near him and give him the hugs he deserves.” the stakes have never been so compelling. I’ve almost forgotten about AFO entirely

lmaoooooo

me: for the love of god will someone please give Deku a hug before I die of old age

Mineta: YOU GOT IT!! --

Iida: [SWIFTLY CUTS HIM OFF] NOT YOU

fucking losing it at Mineta’s crying face. he really wanted to hug him. I legit feel bad but this is also the funniest thing I have seen all week, omg

somehow Kouta, who last week was only a hand’s breadth away from touching Deku’s head, is now twenty miles away from him in this new chapter

can I make a Loki reference here. is this recap a good place to insert a joke about someone using a TVA time-rewinding device to fuck with my poor boy Kouta over here. well anyway there it is

AND NOW HE’S BACK ALL OF A SUDDEN OMG

(ETA: since when is he “niichan” omg?? can’t handle this cuteness.)

BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT HUGGING HIM FFFFKFFFFF. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. WHO DO I HAVE TO BRIBE AND/OR BLACKMAIL

OH NO KOUTA IS CRYING THAT’S IT I’M DONE FOR

“when I heard that lady I knew that I had to go, but then stop again within inches of actually touching you because you smell like week-old rotten onions.” listen Kouta, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but you all can’t keep doing this to me. it’s the way you guys keep teasing it. like, if you’re gonna hug him, hug him. don’t just stand there with your arms held rigidly out in front of you like a molded action figure

OH MY GOSH BUT HE SAID THE THING

KOUTA SWOOPING IN AT THE LAST MINUTE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR FIXING DEKU LIKE THAT ONE KID IN THE GROUP PROJECT WHO DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT STILL TAGS HIS NAME ONTO THE REPORT ANYWAY, WHAT A KNAVE

GASP

( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

SHE PICKED HIM UP LIKE A LITTLE BABY OMG?? she just leaned right over and lifted this child like he was a small animal. like a lil baby futon that she was about to hang up to dry. oh my god

-- HEY WHAT

(: well that’s extremely fucked up. though sadly not too surprising given what we just saw these past couple chapters

incidentally, I hope that anyone who was legitimately defending the civilians’ perspective earlier takes note here of how quickly that line of thinking -- “we’re just trying to keep our families safe” and all that-- can lead to straight up bigotry. if you’re willing to deny a child shelter and protection simply because he’s not YOUR child, and because you’ve decided based on Internet rumors (no real-world parallels there, I’m sure) that he might present a threat, it’s really not that much further of a leap to discriminating against entire groups of people simply because you perceive those groups as being dangerous. I’m sure the people who turned Gigantic Fox Lady away also told themselves afterwards that they did it to protect their families. “better safe than sorry.” “she’ll be fine, someone will take her in, but as for us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” people can come up with all kinds of justifications for treating other people as less than human, and the really scary thing about it is how fucking easy it is

one last quick side note, which is that Horikoshi does a great job here of showing how scapegoating works, given that AFO is the one who’s really to blame and who presents the actual threat, and yet Deku is the one who ultimately winds up being the target of the mob’s fear and outrage despite him being as much of a victim as they are. gotta love that irony, which unfortunately plays out far too often in the real world as well.

anyway I’ll get off my soapbox now, sorry about that. let us continue

YES, FINALLY OH MY GOD!!!!

AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW GIGANTIC FOX LADY BECAME THE GREATEST HERO. PACK IT ALL UP, WE’RE DONE HERE KIDS

holy shit. the real MVP right there. thanks for getting it done champ

jesus christ I have had it up to here with these people

literally the bar is set so low at this point that I’ll go ahead and take it. helping him because it offers them a tactical advantage is at least one step up from not helping him at all

“WHY NOT SHIKETSU” MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

-- thank you!!

okay this one guy with the antennae hair is having himself a character development speedrun here

-- okay, but this part?? fucking this part, right here??

can we repeat that again?? the part where this guy acknowledges that the problems of hero society were caused not just by said heroes, but also by said society?? the part where he acknowledges that they treated the heroes like celebrities who were putting on a show for them?? the part where he acknowledges that when push came to shove, the vast majority of those heroes, when faced with a situation that offered no reward, were nonetheless willing to put their lives on the line to protect the very same people who then turned around and blamed them rather than thanking them?? are the civilians of BnHA even allowed to have actual deep thoughts about this stuff. holy shit

bro!!

ANTENNAE HAIR GUY SHOVING KOUTA AND GIGANTIC FOX LADY OUT OF THE WAY TO SLAP HIS NAME ONTO THE END CREDITS AS EXECUTIVE PRODUCER. CONGRATULATIONS SON YOU FIGURED OUT THE CORE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AT THE VERY HEART OF THE MANGA. WAY TO GO BUD

meanwhile, on today’s episode of “one more chapter to go till the big volume cliffhanger, how else can I drag things out let’s see”

it’s a panel. of people’s feet. just a bunch of normal feet. with sneakers and shit

this All Might shirt guy is getting more screentime in this arc than 90% of the class 1-A kids

I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for this dude now that he’s all “if we let you stay here do you promise to somehow magically fix every single problem that we are now currently facing?” those are some ridiculously exacting standards my dude. come on now

KACCHAN SIGHTING

thank fuck I’m not the only one who’s thoroughly unimpressed by absolutely all of this lol. I feel better now. meanwhile Iida and Kouda and Kiri are ready to run over there and hug them all. you guys are way too forgiving. damn you and your pure hearts

anyway so Deku’s like “yeah, definitely”

(ETA: almost forgot to comment on the “I’m no longer alone” part – he basically corrects the guy and says “sorry, but you’ll need to direct that question towards all of us, not just me, because moving forward we’re a team.” good stuff.)

you know what though, all joking aside... fuck yeah. because perfect victory, right. the strongest guys don’t settle for anything less. so I guess Deku has pretty exacting standards himself

also can you all just take a look at this fucking kid who’s got so much light in his eyes now that I’m gonna need eclipse goggles. hot damn. “you’re welcome” says All Might Shirt Guy as he is frantically interviewed by several local news networks asking him how he daringly managed to save Deku all by himself. “well I guess I’ve just never been the kind of guy who can sit back and let a bunch of rabble-rousers blame a little kid for all of humanity’s problems. someone had to step in and take action, you know?”

oH MY GOD THE SCENE IS FINALLY ENDING

don’t let the door hit you on your way out All Might Shirt Guy

but meanwhile, sudden Tododrama action??

oh shit

there are honestly so many ways in which Ochako’s very moving speech could have wildly backfired that I genuinely have no clue where this is headed lol. how exciting!!

so now Horikoshi is once again stalling for time with random filler panels, but this one is 10x better than the shoes lol omg

(1) was Ectoplasm’s jacket always this oversized. (2) did you guys know that if you go back to chapter 319 you can see that Horikoshi gave us a sneak peak at Enji’s Sad Detective disguise and I in fact made a joke about it in the 319 recap not realizing it was actually the stone cold truth. (3) did Shouto deliberately speed up out of impatience because Hawks was walking so fucking slow and he couldn’t take it any longer. (4) and what, I ask you, is up with these dramatic speedlines. so many mysteries here. what a masterpiece

everyone is acting all shocked about something ahh what’s going on

wait what

what the heck. did they just loop around behind everyone. what was the point of that lol. “anyway, so this is what they look like from the back” well okay, thanks for that Ectoplasm

(ETA: so it seems like they were actually hanging out someplace else away from the crowd this whole time, I guess? here I thought they had more faith in Enji’s disguise. I guess Shouto and Hawks don’t particularly want to attract this crowd’s attention themselves right now either, though.)

I am so fucking confused lmao

speaking of All Might WHERE THE FUCK IS HE lol. but yes, good, OFA brings everyone together, and Hawks is very deeply moved about this out of the blue all of a sudden. you know how it is

aw heck yeah now this is another filler panel I can get behind

Mineta really wants that hug, good lord. I genuinely love this actually. Mineta if you could just stay little and cute and keep crying about how much you love your classmates in a non-gross way for the rest of the series I would be so appreciative. you’re doing great

IIDA IS HOLDING DEKU’S HAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ONE TIME WASN’T ENOUGH FOR MY MAN HE’S ADDICTED NOW

what did I tell you. Kiri wants to get all of the mob’s autographs now. Kiri you’re a peach

Shouji having a conversation with another mutant type is a very nice touch! we really need to get to his backstory soon. I feel like that casual remark from GFL earlier was kind of hinting at more to come

is this the first time we’ve ever seen the Yaoyorictionary in action?? never forget that Viz tried to call it the “Yaoyorozu Reference Book” because they hate fun

last but not least, KAMIBAKU IS BACK ON THE MENU, FUCK YEAH. Kaminari trying to spice things up and introduce a little bit of controversy by smacking Kacchan on the back of the head for god knows what. I will be deeply disappointed after this if I can’t find at least one person unironically declaring that KamiBaku is now toxic and abusive

lfkdlWLWK TODODRAMA??

oh my god. Shouto’s face. Enji’s face. the back to “oyaji” again. the blunt, not-taking-no-for-an-answer, “I don’t know how much louder the universe can scream at you that doing things alone is not it, so hopefully you got the point” directness of it. fffdlkslj I’m so ready for this Horikoshi please don’t fuck it up my expectations are so high

HOLY FUCK

I SCROLLED DOWN AND HE WAS ALL “( ❛‿❛)” AND I JUST WASN’T FUCKING EXPECTING THAT OKAY. JESUS CHRIST. GIVE ME A SEC

lol okay moment over and now Enji’s pulling his hat down all dramatically like a world-weary Cowboy

OH MY GOD WERE YOU FACETIMING??

AHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: not to put Iida down or anything, but it’s kind of strange that Aizawa is all “the class rep sure did great” when Ochako is the one that was giving that whole big speech for like twenty minutes just now lol.)

(ETA 2: “thank god Iida stepped in just in the nick of time to keep Mineta from hugging Deku.” sorry Mineta I really do like you lately but it’s still low-hanging fruit lol.)

HE LOOKS SO SAD??! HE LOOKS LIKE HEARTBREAK ITSELF??! I AM BESOUGHT WITH THE URGE TO REACH INTO MY SCREEN AND PULL HIM INTO THE SAFETY OF MY ARMS??? MY GOD, AND I THOUGHT DEKU NEEDED HUGS

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay I was gonna just hold down the letter H for a full minute and count it out loud but within about ten seconds I realized I needed to chill lol

-- but then again NO, I DON’T NEED TO CHILL, I HAVE ZERO CHILL, ACTUALLY, BECAUSE IT’S AIZAWA WITH A ROBOT LEG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

COMPLETE WITH ROBOT TOES FOR THAT EXTRA TOUCH OF AUTHENTICITY!! I LIKE HOW HORIKOSHI PUT ALL THIS EXTRA “!!!” EMPHASIS AROUND IT IN CASE WE COULD SOMEHOW POSSIBLY FAIL TO TAKE NOTICE. “REMEMBER, EVERYONE?” SAYS HORIKOSHI HELPFULLY. “REMEMBER THAT TIME AIZAWA CHOPPED OFF HIS OWN LEG?” oh wow now that you mention it we somehow forgot all about that. like who do you take us for

OH NO NOT THE SAD BOYFRIEND ANGST THAT I WAS SECRETLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WITH GLEE

well at least he’s not M.I.A. or back with the villains again like I thought he might be. still, that’s gotta be brutal to know your friend is in there somewhere, but to not be able to reach him again no matter how hard you try. that’s the kind of angst that pays off in final battles just when you most expect it. such is my hope, at any rate

what’s this now??

trying to decide if this is Horikoshi’s way of saying don’t worry about that, or his way of saying definitely worry about that lol

anyway so Aizawa is out here being all irresponsibly handsome once again. when is someone going to do something about him

here for Sexy Robot Leg Eyepatch Aizawa clenching his fists and making speeches about revenge. pretty sure we’re all here for that

WELL, WELL, WELL

IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME

I’M VERY GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE AND SEEMINGLY WELL, THOUGH!

BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THOUGH, ALL MIGHT

ffff. bracing myself for that cliffhanger next week. you’d better not touch one hair on this man’s head Horikoshi. I’m watching you��

#bnha 325 #midoriya izuku #u.a. clown mob #class 1-a #aizawa shouta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hiii i've just spent the last 36-48 hours reading your works and oh dear do i lOVE your writing and this universe :') . i dont know if you are taking requests but i think it would be kinda interesting (and low key hilarious) if you would write the lions reacting/reading thirst tweets? idk if this is a dumb idea or not but just like some of them reacting to them and going "well i'm actually gay/married so.. no!.. but thank you!"

Part two of the six-month celebration, everyone! Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who submitted comments--I had over 60 come in, and while I couldn’t include them all, reading them was a true joy. The Lion Pride channel was something I started writing on a whim; I never expected it to grow like this <3 Much love to all of you!

TW for alcohol mentions and thirst tweets (nothing explicit)

“Why do I always fear for my life around you?” Sirius asked as Marlene settled into a cushy chair to the side of their table.

She smiled, catlike, and crossed her legs primly. “Because only Finn appreciates me.”

“That’s just the Aries connection, Cap,” Finn said with a smug grin.

“We’re both Leos, Harzy.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her. “You should probably start asking questions before this devolves further, Marley. He’s gonna keep digging himself a hole and we won’t get anything done.”

Marlene’s smile returned with a vengeance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Loops! We’re not doing any questions at all today.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Read it and weep.” She tossed a small posterboard at him like a frisbee; he caught it, barely, though both Talker and Sirius had to duck out of the way. Marlene faced the camera and winked. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! Today I’m here with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Thomas Walker, and our wonderful cubs to react to your comments on our videos!”

“Bet you thought we’d never see ‘em, huh?” James asked.

“The comments fall into four categories: thirsty, funny, mean, and sweet. I will be reading two of those groups, and my lovely fiancée will be reading the others because she is the human embodiment of sunshine.”

“If you make Dorcas read the mean ones, I’ll be sad,” Leo laughed.

Marlene gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m passing up a chance to roast you guys? Puh-lease. We’re starting off strong with some thirsty, thirsty comments! Loops, you’re up first.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

She cleared her throat, then turned a smoldering look on their table. “I didn’t know I had a freckle kink, but then Remus Lupin appeared and now here we are.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus muttered, covering his face with his hands as the others howled with laughter.

“Lupin has been looking sexy as hell on the bench for years now. I'm so glad people are simping over him like he deserves,” Marlene read. “And there’s a little heart emoji, just for you.”

“This is every one of my nightmares come to life,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms.

James lifted his glasses to swipe away the tears of mirth that had gathered in his eyes. “Are you kidding? This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“Y’know, it is so good to see people drooling over this hot piece of ass at last,” Finn sighed, reaching over to ruffle Remus’ hair as his face turned bright red.

“One more, and it’s a good one,” Marlene warned. She licked her lips, then had to take a moment to laugh before speaking. “I feel like Remus Lupin is the type of guy to bake you muffins—”

“Accurate,” Leo said.

“—but is also a kinky motherfucker.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as the table erupted into cheering. Logan pumped both fists in the air and Sirius was laughing so hard no sound came out; Talker sank so low in his chair that only his head and shoulders were visible as he applauded.

“Why do people comment these things?” Remus asked, barely above a whisper. “Holy fuck, I’m engaged!”

“Speaking of…” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Sirius smile drooped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Buckle up, Cap!” She rolled her shoulders out. “Get someone who looks at you the way Sirius Black looks at a hockey puck.”

Remus snorted; James’ laugh was so short and sharp that it set everyone else off as well. “That sounds like I have a hockey puck fetish!” Sirius complained. “Which is so, so not true!”

Finn made an ‘ehh’ noise, and he leaned around Remus to smack the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Next one!” Marlene announced. “Sirius Black was my bi awakening.”

A beat of silence passed. “Is that it?” Sirius ventured, looking nervous.

“Yep.”

“Aw, man, that one’s lame,” Talker said, shaking his head. “Everyone thinks Cap is a little hot.”

Remus shot him a look. “A little?”

“Fair. Marley, I dare you to find one person who wouldn’t tap that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Me, though that dovetails nicely into the last one for our lovely captain. Ahem. I understand why Remus is with Sirius: he's hot as hell and rich, I'd hit that too.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Leo gasped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Finn and Logan turned to him in unison with a mix of disbelief and offense written all over their faces. “Dude.”

“First of all, Leo, you found yourself two hot rich boys,” Remus interrupted. “Second, that comment is forgetting that he’s funny, and smart, and nice, and—”

Seconds after the initial cover, Sirius took his hand off Remus’ mouth as if he’d been burned. “Did you just lick me?”

“Moving on! This is in all caps, so be prepared.” Marlene shuffled through her posterboards and turned to Leo with an ominous smile. He glanced toward the camera in mild fear. “What does a person have to do to get some hockey player ass?! Like why is Leo Knut so fine?!”

“Amen!” Logan called as Leo blushed.

“According to six of the seven people at this table, the answer to that first question is to be a hockey player,” Talker laughed. “The world may never know the answer to the second, sadly.”

“Lily could play hockey,” James said, resting his chin on his hand. Every single one of the others rolled their eyes. “She could! She’d be so good at it, too.”

“We know,” Finn groaned. “You only mention it every other day.”

“Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Potter,” Marlene began with a sly look as she held up a new card. “Do James and Lily Potter need a third? Asking for me specifically.”

James paused, dumbstruck, while the others drummed their hands on the table. “…no?”

A general sigh of disappointment went up. “I was really hoping he’d say yes,” Leo said.

“Ask Lily next time,” Remus recommended.

James turned to him and blinked slowly. “What are you insinuating, Loops?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry, James, you’ll like this one,” Marlene assured him. “James Potter is the ultimate dilf.”

“You’re damn right I am!” James whooped. “Vindication, bitches!”

“Marley, what have you done?” Talker whispered. “He’ll never shut up about that, now.”

“Oh, never,” James all but cackled. “I’m officially a dilf, you guys!”

“I hate you,” Sirius groaned.

“Tremzy, are you ready? We’ve got a couple very special ones for you,” Marlene said.

“Anything to get us out of this hell,” Logan begged.

“In that case: Logan Tremblay’s ass is better than Sidney Crosby’s. I said what I said.”

A pleased flush rose to his cheeks as Finn and Leo high-fived over his head. “Really? Thank you!”

“And they would be correct!” Finn announced. “Best ass in the league.”

“Come on,” Remus scoffed, though he was smiling.

Marlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I don’t think I can legally read this on air without being censored or getting the video taken down, but…”

She turned the board around; all seven of them leaned forward to read it, then slowly looked at Logan, who turned vivid red. “Mon dieu. Is that—someone commented that on a video? Like, for people to see?”

“I feel like I need to bleach my eyes,” Sirius said just as Finn began shaking with silent laughter.

Leo’s face fell. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Finn wheezed, scooting forward to fist-bump Marlene. “We wanted to see what you guys would say. Fuckin’ hell, your faces.”

“Alright, Talkie, are you ready?” Marlene asked around her laughter. “Seeing Thomas Walker with a baby makes me want to have his babies…please hit me up.”

He held up his index finger and took a second to laugh before responding. “If that’s Noelle, yes. If that’s anyone else, I’m flattered, but absolutely not.”

Logan made a face. “Ew.”

“We have two more,” Marlene warned. “For some very special people that aren’t here today, but I think you’ll like them anyway.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust the look on your face.”

“Daddy Dumo makes me swoon.”

A muddle of horrified noises echoed through the studio as all seven of them cringed. “Oh, my god, that’s my dad!” Logan yelped, covering his ears. Sirius looked vaguely ill and Remus’ shoulders crept toward his ears; James shuddered.

“The worst part is, we all know he can get it,” Finn said with a grimace. “God, I feel like I just heard someone talking about my parents having sex.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” Marlene laughed. “Last one, from one of our truth or drinks.”

Remus went pale half a second too late. “N—”

“Hope Lupin is a milf.”

A broken noise escaped his mouth and he clamped his hand over it while Talker rubbed his back in sympathy. Sirius shook his head. “Somehow, that’s worse than Dumo’s.”

“Whoever sent that in, show some respect!” Leo said indignantly as Remus bonked his forehead against the table. “Hope Lupin is a lovely woman!”

“I think they noticed that particular fact,” Marlene pointed out, earning herself several scandalized shouts of her name and a whine from Remus. “That’s all we have for thirst comments! Are you ready for some funny ones?”

“Anything,” Remus pleaded. “I am begging you, anything else.”

Marlene shook her head as she stood, still smiling, and kissed Dorcas on the cheek when she entered the frame. “Go for it, love.”

“Dorcas!” they all cheered, lighting up immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s been a while!” She curled up in Marlene’s vacant spot and took her own posterboards out from underneath the seat. “Alright, let’s rock and roll. Pascal Dumais is the team dad and nothing will change my mind, and Tremzy is the annoying youngest child.”

“That is so accurate,” Sirius laughed, leaning just out of range of Logan’s playful punch. “Whoever commented that has no idea how right they are.”

“We’ve got a whole sibling dynamic thing going on,” Talker agreed. “Tremzy’s the baby of the family, Cap is the quietly chaotic middle child, and Pots is the older brother that starts shit and inevitably gets blamed for however out-of-control it gets.”

Dorcas nodded. “You are one hundred percent correct. In a similar vein: Pots was the dad jokes friend before he was even a dad.”

“Painfully so,” Leo confirmed, shaking his head as they all groaned in agreement. James looked rather smug about the whole thing. “So many puns.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Dorcas mused as she drew a new card. “If Tremzy looked directly into my eyes for even two seconds, all of my problems would be solved. I am sure of it.”

“Yes,” Finn and Leo said in unison.

“It’s something about the eyes, I think,” James added. “They just stand out so much that it’s a little startling straight-on.”

Logan looked to the camera and stared at it, unblinking; it zoomed in slightly on his face. “Everything will be fine,” he said with mock solemnity. “Your problems are solved.”

“Well, that was terrifying,” Sirius said drily. “Got any more for us, Ms. Meadowes?”

“Of course I do! We’ve got quite a few for Loops and Leo.” She took a sip of her water before getting comfortable again. “My favorite thing about these videos is that we can all see Loops get steadily buffer as the season goes on. Good for you, king!”

“Flex! Flex! Flex!” the six of them chanted; Remus rolled his eyes, but slid his sweater sleeve to his elbow and flexed his forearm, resulting in enough hoots and hollers that they could probably be heard a block away. Talker fake-swooned into Leo’s arms and Remus lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

“Remus Lupin looks like he has squishable cheeks,” Dorcas read aloud.

“He does!” James cooed, scooting over and reaching out.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “I swear to god I’ll bite you.”

Sirius cupped his face between his palms and kissed his nose, then pinched both his cheeks gently. “Ta-da!”

“How many of these do we have?” Remus asked, though his voice was a bit muffled by Sirius’ hands.

“Just one more for you, and it’s my personal favorite.” Dorcas assured him. “I love how the team probably had no impulse control until Loops joined.”

Sirius let go of his face and dissolved into laughter as Finn nearly fell on the floor. “Oh my—you think he has impulse control?” Talker slapped the edge of the table as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Hell no, Loops is the first person to do stupid shit with us.”

“Yeah, I just don’t get caught,” Remus added around his own laughter. “Everyone thinks I’m such a hardass goody-two-shoes and it lets me get away with so much more than you delinquents.”

“Speaking of delinquents,” Dorcas continued. “This one is from our ‘Taste Testing Sexy Alcohol’ video: ah, yes, now I know how to do a body shot. 10/10, very educational video.”

“Do not take educational advice from us,” Finn blurted instantly. “I know this is a joke, but please exercise caution. That video was a ton of fun but a nightmare to recover from.”

Sirius winced at the memory. “I took two naps and then wished for death for a full day.”

“On a lighter note, who’s ready for some Knutty appreciation?” Dorcas smiled at her cards. “I've only had Leo Knut for a season and half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

“Big mood,” four of them said simultaneously.

Leo turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “That’s a meme reference, but are y’all okay?”

“No,” Dorcas answered. “Especially not this next person: Sometimes I do something productive and then I remember @LeoKnut is a 19 year old professional athlete who radiates happiness and with two of the hottest boyfriends the good lord has made, and then my bowl of packaged ramen seems less impressive.”

“I’m proud of your ramen,” Leo said, even as the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “And I appreciate the note about my boyfriends, because they are definitely the hottest people the good lord has made.”

Talker stuck his lip out in a pout. “Rude.”

“Sorry, Talkie, I’m biased.”

“Last one before Marlene comes back, so you’d better enjoy it!” Dorcas announced. “Did the Lions effectively utilize girl power when they wrecked toxic masculinity, yes or yes?”

“Can we utilize girl power?” Remus wondered, resting his shin on his hand. “Isn’t that exclusively for, y’know, women?”

“We can utilize himbo power,” Finn suggested.

James gave him an offended look. “Not all of us are himbos!”

“Okay, but you definitely are.”

“I am not!” James held up his fingers to count. “There are only, like, three qualifications, right? I might be strong, hot, and respectful, but I’m not dumb so it doesn’t count!”

“Pots,” Remus said quietly, hiding his smile for half a second. “Buddy, that was four things.”

James paused, then sighed in resignation. “Ah, fuck, I’m a himbo.”

“You really are.”

“At least we don’t promote toxic masculinity.”

They raised their waterbottles in a ‘cheers’ motion as Marlene and Dorcas switched spots; Marlene stretched her arms over her head and grabbed the new boards. “I’m back, beloved himbos. Talker, Leo, you are beloved by the people and have no mean comments. Cap, we’re starting with you.”

“Are they actually mean mean?” he asked.

“Sirius Black seems like a little bitch. Not in a bad way, necessarily. He just. Seems like he'd be a little bitch."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. That answers one question.”

“He’s not a little bitch,” Leo said. “Pouty on occasion, but not a little bitch.”

Remus gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you teared up a little when Hattie got a splinter in her paw but didn’t even yell when you almost sliced your finger off while making dinner.”

“Duality of man,” Finn said sagely.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow. “Finn O’Hara’s hair kind of reminds me of Garfield the Cat.”

“Alright, that’s just rude.”

“It does not!” Logan gasped at the same time Leo made a noise of agreement.

Finn turned to him in utter betrayal. “Nutter Butter, I thought you liked my hair!”

“I do!” Leo defended. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s very orange in the sun.”

“I’m never going to forget that,” Finn muttered, staring at the floor.

“Ugh, it bothers me so much that Lupin just objectifies Black all the time!” Marlene read in a high-pitched, nasal voice. “No respect in that relationship!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Marlene stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea what videos they were watching. Do you feel objectified in your relationship, Cap? I know the opinion of total strangers really bothers you a lot.”

“I’m really glad you picked up on that,” he said with false gravity. “Yeah, it’s such a bummer when my hot fiancé says I look nice. Such a blow to my self-esteem.”

“That was supposed to be a roast against me,” Remus said, looking amused. “Talk about backfiring.”

“Are you ready, Pots? This one’s pretty brutal,” Marlene warned. James nodded and Finn linked their hands for moral support. “James Potter is a swiftie and you cannot tell me otherwise.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “…yeah? That’s true? T Swift is a regular occurrence on the locker room playlist.”

“Also, James Potter looks like someone who would think black pepper was spicy.”

“Now that one is mean,” he complained as the others burst out laughing. “It’s not my fault I have sensitive taste buds!”

“Oh, honey,” she said under her breath as she took a new card. “Get ready, Tremzy. This first one is short and sweet: Logan Tremblay looks like a lesbian.”

“That is not an insult,” Logan laughed. “Every lesbian I know is rad as fuck. I wish I looked that good in a leather jacket.”

“I just realized Logan doesn’t look short cause he’s next to bunch of hockey players, he’s short cause he’s 5’9.”

The smile slipped off his face in a millisecond as the others roared with laughter. “Quoi?”

“Oh, she got you good,” Sirius gasped, patting his shoulder clumsily. “Holy fuck, can I frame that?”

“That’s not what it says.” An edge of distress appeared in Logan’s voice. “Marley, that’s not what it says.”

James sat on the floor with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “You’re fucking—whoever sent that in, you are my new favorite person. Jesus.”

“Do you need a second to recover before we move on?” Dorcas asked as she draped her arms over the back of Marlene’s chair. “The next one is our biggest section by far.”

“It’s the sweet ones, yeah?” Leo asked.

“Right.”

“It might be a good idea to do those before Lo spontaneously combusts.”

“Agreed!” She swapped with Marlene and hauled a short stack of posterboards out from their hiding place with a smile. “A hug from Dumo can probably solve any issue.”

“Facts,” Logan said. “I could really use one right about now, too.”

“Has anyone noticed how blue Leo Knut’s eyes are?”

“Yes,” the six of them chorused.

Finn gave him a dreamy look. “Every single day.”

“When I first read this one, I thought I wrote it,” Dorcas said with a snort. “Someone give Marlene a raise. No reason why, I just love her.”

“Can we do that?” Sirius asked, looking toward the camera crew. “Can we lobby to give you guys raises? Because you definitely deserve it after all the bullshit you deal with to make these videos watchable, and Marlene, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick ninety percent of the time.”

“How?” she called off-screen.

“You have to actually talk to us and try to get answers.”

“Fair.”

Dorcas finished scribbling something down on her notepad. “Just making a note of this conversation for future reference. Moving on! Sirius Black and James Potter are a prime example of hockey husbands, and I adore them.”

“The ironic part of that is that we’re both in committed relationships, but we’re basically married,” James mused.

Remus shook his head. “You guys are so married. Lily wanted to get you matching rings for your birthday, Pots.”

“That would be so cool!” they said in perfect unison. Remus turned to the camera and spread his hands in a case in point motion.

Dorcas stifled her laughter before moving on. “This one is cute. Give Remus Lupin all the hugs! I feel like I could tell him he’s an inspiration and he’d be so nice about it—” She paused to glance up at them. “—this next bit is in parentheses: all the LGBT Lions give me that vibe, but Cap and Knutty are super intimidating so I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Leo’s face fell and Sirius’ eyebrows pitched. “I’m not intimidating!” Leo protested. “I thought we already went over that! Loops gives fantastic hugs, but I want some, too.”

“He definitely deserves all the hugs in the world, but I promise I’m nice,” Sirius said, a bit softer than usual. “Is it because we’re tall?”

Dorcas half-shrugged. “Probably. It’s a little startling at first. Oh, I could’ve written this one, too: The Venn diagram of men I trust and the Gryffindor Lions is a full circle.”

Talker beamed at the camera. “Thank you!”

“So many hockey guys are such douchebags,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I’m really glad we don’t do that shit.”

“Me, too.” Dorcas slid her old card under her chair. “Sirius Black’s hair looks so soft and I just want to touch it so bad.”

“It is so soft,” Remus agreed immediately. “You have no idea.”

“Everyone wants to touch Cap’s hair,” Finn said, sighing. “It’s so majestic.”

“I need a haircut.”

“No, you don’t,” Remus said as he tugged a stray curl. Sirius hummed.

“This one is from the interview some you did with Jules and Katie: these hockey boys being so soft with kids is my aesthetic! Like, it’s just so adorable to see these big, intimidating dudes be so, so sweet! Love them all!” She turned the card for them to see. “And then they added a heart at the end.”

“It’s impossible to be around those kids and not be happy,” James said. “They’re just too cute and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I love kids.” Finn nodded. “Especially the Dumais and Jules. They’re a hoot.”

“Jules would die if he heard you say that,” Remus laughed. “The hero worship is still going strong with most of you.”

“This one made me laugh when I first read it, but it’s really sweet,” Dorcas informed them. “Anyone else feel like we were deceived these past five years into thinking Cap was this hard-ass man, when in reality he's a cuddle bug who definitely captures and releases spiders instead of squishing them?”

“You weren’t deceived, I was just closeted,” Sirius said. “Also, I absolutely squish spiders.”

Remus gave him a look. “No, you do not. That’s my job. I’m the catch and release person if I can get away with it.”

James shook his head. “The third week of practices you saw a spider and threw me at it.”

“You did what?” Finn asked.

“There was a spider in my stall,” Sirius sighed, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. “And Pots and I were talking so I didn’t see it until I almost sat on it, and my brain decided the only logical thing to do would be to grab him and shove him toward the spider.”

“That was after you shrieked,” Talker added. “Like, literally shrieked. I’ve never heard anyone make a noise like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled. “We get it, I don’t like spiders.”

Remus shrugged. “But you are a cuddle bug. They got that part right.”

“We’re in the final two!” Dorcas announced. “This one has some pictures to go with it, so it’s on my phone. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have.”

“It’s us!” Leo cooed as the phone made its way down the line. In the upper corner of the screen, the photo appeared—it had been taken in New York, and Logan’s whole face was alight with happiness as Leo and Finn each pressed a kiss to his cheek. The camera caught him mid-laugh, so his eyes were closed and his chin was tucked slightly into Finn’s Strand hoodie.

“That’s my screensaver,” Finn said with a grin, pulling his phone out and turning it toward the camera without moving away from Leo. “One of my favorites.”

“I forgot you took that one,” Logan murmured. He hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder and kissed his cheek; the four others at the table gave soft are you seeing this? looks to the camera and Dorcas smiled.

“Pots, I think yours is next. I hate to break it to you, Talkie, but they didn’t get any of you and Noelle.”

“We don’t take a ton of pictures together,” Talker said as James took the phone. “I mean, we take a bunch of selfies, but we don’t live close enough to each other to actually post that often. What picture is it, J?”

James was staring down at the picture with an unbearably sweet expression. “It’s our wedding. That’s my favorite one, actually.”

Like Logan, they had been captured while laughing—Lily was bent slightly at the waist as James clapped, his glasses just as askew as the flower crown on her head. It was impossible to tell who had told the joke originally, but they were both radiant in the sunset.

“That’s a really good one,” Sirius said with an unreadable look on his face.

“Well, well, well, fancypants, you two got a video.” James wiggled his eyebrows and Remus leaned in to see.

“What kind of video? One of our tikt—oh. Oh, this is so cute.” He shifted his chair over as the short edit began to play. “D, who made this?”

“A fan.”

“It’s really impressive,” Sirius said without taking his eyes off the screen. The edit was a series of photos, both on and off the ice; Sirius knocking their helmets together, then Remus looking back over his shoulder, then both of them in the water playing chicken in the sun. It was a slideshow of their life and their love.

“Can you send that to me?” Remus asked when it was over. “Cause that’s super cool.”

“Sure thing. Are you guys ready for the last one?” When they all nodded, she drummed her fingers on the posterboard and cleared her throat. “Arthur appreciation hours. He deserves it after managing to control the team.”

A cheer went up—all seven stood and applauded, half-laughing and half-whooping. “Miracle worker!” Sirius called.

“Best coach in the league!” Finn added.

“Most tolerant man to ever walk the earth!” Remus raised his water in a toast and they tapped the plastic edges together, nearly spilling all over the table.

Dorcas’ eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to the camera. “That’s it for today, Lions! Tune in next time for more content of our boys, and thank you for such wonderful comments!”

288 notes · View notes

young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 17

Hannibal teaches y/n a useful skill.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop

Trigger warnings: use of firearms, discussion of firearms, violence

“So where are we off to next?” You asked, following Will around the office. “Are we questioning this Rachel woman, or are we going straight to the church?”

Will sighed. “Jack and I are going to the church. I’m calling Hannibal to come pick you up.”

“What?” You spat in utter disbelief. “What the hell happened to taking him down together?”

“You’ve already been more help than we could ask for.” Will explained. “This is the end of the line for you. We--”

He cleared his throat and looked down. “I can’t bear to see you get hurt.”

“That’s sweet and everything, but,” You folded your arms. “You really think someone is going to hurt me in broad daylight in a megachurch?”

“Well, somebody stabbed you in broad daylight in a restaurant, and that person just happened to come from this megachurch.” Will rationalized. “So, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question.”

“So that’s it, you’re just going to pass me off to Hannibal?” You threw up your arms. “Look, I had enough of this growing up with divorced parents.”

“Angel,” Will soothed, running a gentle hand down your arm. “Please. I’m begging you, think on this for just a minute and try to see why I don’t want you on this particular excursion?”

You thought on it for a minute. “Churches do kind of trigger me.”

“I saw how tense you got when that woman said she’d kicked her daughter out of the house for dating a girl. I understand, dealing with people who remind you of Chase is going to trigger you.” Will whispered. “Have you even taken any time to work on healing?”

“I could say the same to you.” You disputed. “You killed a woman and then came face-to-face with her mother. Why aren’t you trying to work through that?”

“That’s different.” He blurted out. “That’s my job.”

“Sure.” You snipped. “I have to take time to work through my PTSD, but you don’t. Got it.”

“If you go home with Hannibal now, I promise I will...” He hesitated to finish the sentence. “I’ll work on my issues too. Cross my heart.”

“Oh, I will absolutely hold you to that.” You pointed at him. “And I’m telling Hannibal you said that.”

Will immediately regretted making that promise and it was obvious from his expression. “Please don’t.”

“I am absolutely going to do that.” You said, in a way in which he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.

Hannibal opened the passenger’s door for you and greeted you with a kiss. He could tell you were feeling off after only a few seconds.

“Why so sad, my indulgence?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you enjoy Will’s company more than mine?”

“What? No.” You shook your head. “No way.”

“You can tell me what’s on your mind, love.” He assured you.

You sighed and rested your head on the window. “Will doesn’t want me to help on the investigation anymore.”

“I don’t see why he should.” Hannibal agreed. “You’re tracking down the man who tried to kill you, and he’s tracking down the man who tried to kill his lover. Both of you are far too close to the situation and your mental health will suffer for it. But, in the end, it’s Will’s job.”

“I know.” You conceded.

“That, and,” Hannibal continued. “Will is a trained professional under the supervision of other trained professionals. He’s far less likely to get hurt.”

“I get it.” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “At the end of the day, he’s the action hero and I’m the damsel in distress.”

“Darling,” Hannibal scolded. “You know our situation isn’t so black-and-white. You know the investigation couldn’t have worked without you.”

“I know.” You pouted. “I just wanted the final blow, y’know? I think I deserve to finish the job.”

Hannibal went quiet for a moment. When you came to a stoplight, he turned his gaze to you. “You want to be more proactive in your safety.”

“Would be nice.” You shrugged.

“I wasn’t asking.” Hannibal corrected. “You do want to be more proactive. It’s why you have a firearms license in your wallet and a handgun in your car. It’s also why you were looking up hunting equipment last night while you were on the phone with Freddie Lounds.”

You swallowed. Every word in the English language escaped you. He was right. You never saw the appeal of guns until you lived alone. Even though a "gun owner" was technically what you were, you didn't want to associate yourself with the jingoistic, hyper-masculine culture affixed to the term. You were just a woman who kept a gun in her car and had all the proper licensing and registration for it. Nothing wrong with that. So why did it have you feeling so defensive?

You lowered your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Lying about Freddie Lounds.” You finished. “I don’t know why I felt the need to lie about that, in hindsight-”

“I understand.” Hannibal cut you off. “You were just doing what you felt needed to be done. Will would have done the same.”

He was right again.

“Ambitious of you to select a shotgun as your weapon of choice.” Hannibal observed. “At the risk of sounding like a chauvinist, I have to ask. Do you know how to use one?”

“No.” You admitted. “It was just a power fantasy, I guess. All I know is that you can blast a guy’s head off with one.”

Without a word, Hannibal took an abrupt turn.

“Isn’t your place that way?” You asked, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Do you have your license on you now?” He asked.

“Of course I do, why?”

“Because we’re going to make your power fantasy a reality.” He answered.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a large hunting store with a shooting range attached.

“Go in and pick out something you like.” Hannibal instructed, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll be waiting for you at the range and I can teach you how to use it.”

He offered you one of his shiny metal credit cards. When you didn’t immediately take it, he pushed it closer to you.

“I just got a thousand dollars from Freddie Lounds.” You pushed his hand away. “I can pay for it.”

“You deserve something much nicer than only a thousand dollars can buy you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened.

“So then I’ll buy something more than a thousand dollars and use your credit card to make up the difference.” You offered.

“No.” Hannibal said, sternly. “I will buy you a nice gun and plenty of ammo, and you will save your thousand dollars for when you open your own restaurant.”

“How did you-” You objected.

He cut you off. “Will isn’t very good at keeping secrets, dear. Take it.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “Hannibal, if you don’t put that credit card away I will bite your finger off.”

His thin lips curled into a cunning smile. He offered you his other hand. “Bite away, darling.”

You wordlessly snatched the card from his hand.

“Oh, pity.” Hannibal feigned disappointment. “Did I call your bluff?”

You tucked the card away in your pocket. You leaned in as if you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek, but playfully nipped at his earlobe.

"Remind me to give you a little special attention when the lesson is up." He whispered, his hand clutching your arm.

You made sure to walk away slowly, rolling your hips with every step.

You entered the store, feeling overwhelmed and significantly less confident than you did while shopping for guns online.

An employee approached you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever sexist comment he was about to hurl at you. But somebody must have taught this particular associate that being a misogynist prick doesn't sell guns.

"Anything I can help you find, ma'am?"

Your mouth ran before your brain. "I'd like to buy a gun, please."

"Well, you've come to the right place." The employee smiled. "What kind of gun are you looking for?"

"A shotgun." You corrected.

"Well, we have plenty of makes and models to choose from." He clapped his hands together and led you to a wall lined with shotguns. "Any specifics in mind?"

"I guess I just want something simple enough to use." You scratched the back of your head. "My boyfriend is taking me skeet shooting this weekend so I don't have time to learn all the complicated mechanics."

"So skeet?" The man put his hands down on the counter and looked deep in thought. He turned around and pulled one off the shelf. "I'd recommend this CZ over-under. It's a good place to start."

He offered it to you. Your eyes widened and your first instinct was to refuse.

He looked at you with confusion. "How are you gonna shoot anything if you don't hold it?"

You shook off your nerves and took the gun in your hands. It was a little heavy, and tilted near the stock. You looked at it as if it were a beautiful but deadly venomous tropical snake.

"Over-under's are the working man's shotgun." The employee said. "Or, woman, as it were."

You held it up to your shoulder like you saw in movies and felt a strange rush of exhilaration pulsing through your body.

"It's nice, right?" He asked. "And you can get to the trigger okay?"

"I'll take it." You said. "And some bullets, please."

"Now we're cooking with gas." He answered, a big smile on his face. "Let's get you rung up."

The fact that he didn't even stop to notice that the name on your license didn't match the name on the credit card only emphasized your country's need for stricter gun control laws. Even if the lack of such laws benefitted you in that moment, the ease of the process killed you a little.

The total came up to just under a thousand dollars. You couldn't bring yourself to spend more than you planned to, even if it was Hannibal's treat. You already felt weird about using Hannibal's money, let alone so much of it.

The employee saw you out with a friendly "happy skeeting" and you set off to meet Hannibal at the range.

"There you are, love." He greeted you. He had removed his suit coat and tie, and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

For a split second, you completely forgot about the gun and were overtaken by the need to fuck him. You quickly regained control of yourself. "Yeah. I found something."

"I should hope so." He said, beckoning to you from the stall. "Come now. Let me show you what to do."

You stood in front of the booth, ears and eyes protected. At the end of the long booth was a paper target. Hannibal positioned himself behind you. He took your hand in his and guided it to the stock wrist.

"Wrap your fingers around here, like this." He instructed, his dark, accented voice shaking you to your core. "Now extend your finger to reach the trigger. Yes, that's it."

"Now place your other hand on the fore-end and hold the end of the stock against your shoulder."

The way he shaped your body, positioned your limbs felt almost alarmingly natural. He wasn't just indulging your power fantasy, he was directing it.

"Cheek against the stock, love." He instructed. "The gun is an extention of you. You must hold it firmly and give it support. You move with it, it moves with you."

He rummaged through the shopping bag and pulled out a package of shells. "Are you ready to shoot it, darling?"

"I think I should probably load it first." You said, nervously.

"Well that should take us no time at all." Hannibal approached with two 12 gauge shotshells. "Go ahead and engage the break lever right at the edge of the barrel."

When the gun suddenly bent in half, your first thought was that you'd broken it. Hannibal handed you the two shells and watched you timidly slide one into each barrel.

You felt yourself shaking and your palms were damp with sweat. You swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Were you afraid the first time you drove a car?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"Cripplingly." You nodded. "I was so scared I didn't take my foot off the brake the whole time."

"But now driving comes just as naturally to you as walking." Hannibal smiled comfortingly. He placed his hands over yours and returned you to the shooting position. On one side, the cold stock rested against your cheekbone. On the other, Hannibal's hot breath grazed against your skin. "It just takes some getting used to."

Your finger squeezed the trigger and the massive projectile exploded from the gun. The stock pushed back into your shoulder, making you stumble backwards into Hannibal.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed. "That's got some serious recoil. Is it supposed to do that?"

Hannibal chuckled and took a step back, giving you a little space. "Yes, darling. Now go ahead and fire off the next shot."

Your eyes widened. "Okay."

"Remember, you move with the gun, you don't fight the gun." He instructed. "It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

You squeezed the trigger again, this time fully expecting the recoil. The shot fired, and this time it hit the target.

You hopped in delight. "Holy shit I actually got one!"

"All it takes is a little getting used to." Hannibal stroked your hair. "Now unload the shotgun shells and let's go again."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #the sommelier #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #will graham #hannigram x you #will graham x you #will graham x reader #tw guns #tw violence

115 notes · View notes

cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Text

Me:Okay let’s write some good fluff-

My brain: LETS MAKE THEO EVEN GROSSER!

This is gonna be toxic as fuck

Should I replace theo with a new oc so I won’t get so much hate comments? Yes.

Am I going to? Probably not.

This contains: basically r*pe, misogyny, non con, yandere behavior, toxic behavior

“As is the drugs taking over? You look so cute when you are submissiveness and docile” Theo cooed out as he finished strapping you down to the examination table. You were strapped down naked with your legs spread apart exposing yourself to him.

“My dear sweet wife, when I say I want a child..your response should be nothing beside absolute submission. After all you don’t truly have a choice in the matter” he said softly as he started to put gloves on.

“I-I don’t want a baby though!” You slurred out sluggishly as you tried to struggle from the leather straps, theo sighed softly seeming frustrated at your response. “I knew women just weren’t as smart as men. Your sole purpose as a woman is to take care of the kids, cook clean and please your husband..how can you take care of children we don’t have? Do you see the problem here?” He explained softly and slowly as if you didn’t understand English. Theo grabbed a small container and what looked like a thin tube

“It seems like I have to be the one to show you the correct way. As much as I would love to do this the natural way, I feel like you don’t deserve such pleasure.” He said as he filled the tube up with whatever was in the container the milky white liquid making your eyes widen.

“Hold still my love, this will hurt just a bit. But I promise you will enjoy the outcome..our sweet baby” he cooed out as he forced the tube inside of you hearing you whimper with discomfort.

“I know my love, it must feel uncomfortable but this is your fault, you must learn to be more obedient” he said softly as he loomed over you shoving the tube deeper and deeper before he stopped and slowly released the liquid inside of you.

“P-please..dont” you whined our shuddering in disgust at his kisses against your neck. “You’re gonna be an amazing mother, y/n. So just relax okay? Relax and understand that I’m doing this for us” he cooed out softly.

You hated him, you hated him so much but you knew you can never escape..he would kill you before he would let you go.

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere #theo #tw r*pe #tw noncon #tw misogyny

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esmealux · 3 years

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Could you do 31 and 23 for the prompts?

I absolutely loved this prompt, thank you! <3

This got a lot longer (1.8K) and a lot angstier than I intended. But fret not, it's hurt/comfort at its core and it's Deckerstar stargazing. And also,

ANTI-SPOILER ALERT: This piece takes place after 5a/during 5b. I have not watched the trailer, nor will I. I therefore have no idea what is going to happen in 5b, or if what this fic suggests is remotely close to what is hinted at in the trailer—and I would like remain oblivious. *Looks at you with puppy eyes* So please don't mention anything from the trailer in the comments? It would mean a lot to me ❤ (And yes, I do realise I could've waited two days before posting this, but I wanted to give you guys a little something while you wait.)

Rated M, just to be safe.

Enjoy, my loves!

31. Lost in the middle of nowhere + 23. ‘Hey, at least the stars are beautiful tonight, right?’

He gets in his car, and he drives.

He has no destination in mind, nowhere but ‘away’. Away from Him. From feelings he can’t contain. From eons of neglect. From pain.

Far away.

He drives till there’s no more gas and ends up stranded where the streets have no name, in the moonlit desert.

The car shudders and comes to a halt. With ridiculously shaky hands, Lucifer brings a cigarette and a lighter to his lips, desperately needing the distraction. He flicks the lighter repeatedly, chaotically, but the fire won’t bite, and suddenly he’s hyperventilating, and both cig and lighter are sent flying through the brisk night air.

He roars into the dark void of the night. The thunderous sound resonating off the distant mountain walls startles him like an unexpected ghost. It sounds like him, but not like him. Not like Lucifer, Devil, fallen angel. It sounds like Samael, falling angel—screaming into the abyss as he plummets towards fire and brimstone, his fate and punishment, dealt by Dad.

Lucifer suddenly can’t get out of the car fast enough. He leans against the trunk, his chest heaving rapidly, his lungs fighting for air. He’d thought he was healing, that he was actually starting to put millennia of trauma behind him. And maybe he was. But then He waltzed down and ripped the wound right open.

Such a pestilent, tyrannous prick.

Lucifer needs a drink.

He finds a bottle of something strong and amber in the glove box and brings it back to the trunk. It’s only half-full, and he’d need at least five more bottles to just get tipsy, but it’ll have to do. He wasn’t looking to get shitfaced, anyway. He just wants to take his mind off things, to breathe. And right now, (now that his chance of having a smoke is lying somewhere in the sand) a couple of sips from a mildly exquisite whiskey and the ensuant burn in his throat are the best way to do that.

She finds him like that—because of course she finds him—sitting on the trunk of his car with the near-empty bottle in his hand and looking absolutely wrecked.

She’s tentative as she approaches him, afraid she’s not welcome, that he really did want to be alone. But as she gets close and he looks up at her, dark eyes glistening in the moonlight, she knows being alone is the last thing he needs.

Without a word, neither from her nor from him, she gets up on back of the car and scoots close to him, still keeping some air between them.

‘I thought you could use a friend,’ she says with a slight smile, exactly like she did all those years ago. Now, however, the last word isn’t an overwhelming, meaningful declaration, but a cosmic understatement, and Lucifer can’t help but snort.

Reaching over, Chloe grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers. ‘Also, I wasn’t gonna let my partner get lost in the middle of nowhere alone.’

‘I’m not lost,’ he objects, but his voice, hollow and lined with despair, betrays him. He may know the way back to LA, but he is definitely lost.

Sensing he doesn't want to talk about it, Chloe gestures towards the bottle still dangling from his fingers and asks for a sip. His lips tug up into the smallest of smirks as he hands over the bottle with a half-hearted ‘Be my guest’.

She leans her head back, eyes turning to the night sky as she takes a swig (just a nip; one of them still has to drive home at some point). It tastes like evening kisses. Occassionally, morning kisses too.

A cool breeze whirls around them, and Chloe snuggles closer to Lucifer. She does have a plaid in the car, and she will get it in a minute, but right now, she settles for stealing some body heat, hoping her seatmate doesn’t mind too much. She hands him back the bottle and snakes a hand under his layers, up his bare back. He sighs shakily, the taut muscles beneath Chloe’s hand loosening up. It tugs at something in her chest—the way he’s calmed by her touch alone.

Chloe looks up again, at the tiny, abundant jewels glimmering against the dark sky. ‘At least the stars are beautiful tonight, right?’

In the middle of downing the last drops of whiskey, Lucifer absent-mindedly replies with a ‘Hm?’

‘Stars,’ Chloe repeats. ‘They’re beautiful.’

Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, Lucifer lets his eyes glide up. He’s quiet as he takes it in, the black canopy adorned with white, pearlescent specks. His gaze is somewhat distant, reminiscent. Wistful.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, not as a vocative, but as an eureka. She’s said his name so many times before, screamed it, whispered it, cried it—with passion and pain and everything in between—but now is the first time she says it actually knowing what it means. Or at least she’s pretty sure she does.

‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ she asks him with a whisper, more in awe than accusatory, and the soft, melancholic smile he gives her is answer enough. ‘You let there be light.’ It’s not a question this time, just an overwhelming realisation spoken out loud.

‘Well, technically,’ Lucifer corrects, glancing over at her, ‘it was Dad who created Light.’ His gaze turns upwards again, eyes suddenly twinkling with pride. ‘The almighty wanker was just too lazy to hang it up there himself.’

Stunned, Chloe stares at the sky with new reverence. It’s breath-taking, both the sight itself—diamonds and sparkling dust sprinkled across a sea of nothing—and the fact that Lucifer made that. He literally hung the stars in the sky.

The fact that he hasn’t mentioned this before, that he hasn’t boasted about it, hasn’t proudly told everyone he’s the artist behind the original Starry Night also says something.

Peering up at him from where her head is now resting against his shoulder, Chloe sees a look on his face she can only describe as ‘homesick’.

‘They remind you of your dad’s love for you,’ she realises, voice quiet.

Lucifer scoffs, but there’s no humour in it. Just pain. ‘What love?’

Chloe doesn’t blame him for doubting. With all the light God (apparently) gave Lucifer, He gave him a thousand times more darkness. (And she is going to talk to Him about that. Later. When she’s hugged the living shit out of His son). But Chloe can tell He, despite everything, does love Lucifer—and that Lucifer is using this resentment towards Him to avoid facing the fact that he, still, loathes himself just as much. If not more.

The thought makes Chloe sick, and she suddenly feels the need to tell him, ‘You’re worthy, you know?’

He looks down at her. A wet streak on his cheek catches the silvery light of the moon. ‘I do?’ The insecurity in his voice is a sharp jab in her chest. But again, she doesn’t blame him.

‘You are,’ she states again for emphasis, holding his gaze. ‘You’re worthy of love, and light.’ With her free hand, the one that isn’t stroking the small of his back beneath his shirt and jacket, she cups his face and swipes her thumb across his stubble. ‘You deserve it. You deserve happiness, more than any other person in this world.’

He doesn’t say anything in return, but he doesn’t have to. The smile he gives her in return, warming and breaking her heart at the same time, speaks for itself. Just to get her point across, she leans up and kisses him. It’s teary and tender, and it’s a promise. To always love him—both the light and the dark, and all the colours in between.

They lean their foreheads against each other’s when they break apart, eyes still closed.

After a long, needed moment, Chloe lets her hand drop from Lucifer’s cheek to his thigh.

‘So,’ she breathes, the pall from their prior conversation vanishing into the night with her light, playful tone, ‘constellations?’

He chuckles beside her, the sound low and warm in her ear. ‘Not what you humans make them out to be.’

She fights the urge to roll her eyes at his ‘you humans’, and asks, intrigued, ‘No Big Dipper?’

‘No.’ He clicks his tongue. 'But there is a Big Pecker somewhere.’

She glares at him. ‘You drew a dick in the sky?’

His lips spread into a proud grin. ‘And a pair of boobs, if you have a little imagination.’ He points to a distant spot above them. ‘Those seven points there, the brighter ones—they form a symbol in my mother tongue. A message for my dear twin.’

‘Oh?’ Lucifer rarely ever speaks of, much less in the celestial language. It’s another part of his past Chloe hasn’t learned much about. But hopefully, over time, she will.

‘Yes, it means… how would you say?’ He thinks for a second—or pretends to—and eventually concludes, ‘Cunt, I believe, would be the appropriate translation.’

This time, Chloe doesn’t resist rolling her eyes—because nothing about that is ‘appropriate’. Maybe except for the fact that it was directed at Michael.

‘I know,’ he says, like he’s reading her mind. But he really isn’t, because he follows up with, ‘An insult to the temple of pleasure I value more than any other organ.’

Having met the guy, Chloe doesn’t disagree; Michael definitely lives up to more vile name-calling than ‘cunt’. (Also, she's pretty sure Lucifer is wrong about it being his favourite body part. She’s pretty sure the organ he values more than any other is his own Big Pecker, because she’s seen the way he looks at himself in the shower, and all the other places she finds him naked; the vain idiot is practically obsessed with his own meat. Not that she blames him.) But before she has the chance to tell him that, he says-

‘You have to forgive me. I was only a couple of thousand years old.’ There’s a glint in his eye, and Chloe can’t help but laugh, because it’s true what Linda said; he really is the oldest, most immature person in the world.

Chloe tells him as much.

He simply smirks in return. ‘I may be old, Detective, but I’m more vigorous in bed than any mortal man, old or young, and you know it.’

It only proves her point, about him being immature, and obsessed with his penis. But frankly, Chloe does know it, and for once, she feels like stroking his ego (among other things). So she grabs him by the hand, leads him into the car, onto plush leather, onto her, and as the stars twinkle and gleam above them, they put that vigour of his to good use.

#deckerstar fanfiction #writing #two part drabble game #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #lucifer x chloe #chloe x lucifer #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer on netflix #angst #hurt comfort #deckerstar #lucifer makes stars #post 5a #during 5b

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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

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So, this is a little goofy thing featuring Arkham Knight Eddie and a female!o/c that was inspired by an actual dream I had recently. Like, literally, the dream mentioned in this story is almost exactly the same.

It’s pretty short and I’m....not entirely sure it’s good but I dunno...I wanted to get that dream out of my head somehow and turn it into something positive so...here is this silly drabble.

Contains some smut and suggestive comments, but nothing overly explicit.

Words: 2104 Title: i'm best when I'm In love Rating: M (going with the AO3 smutty content labels here)

“My Dear, you’re struggling,” Edward said as he moved one of his pawns.

“Well, I have yet to beat you, Eddie,” Sara responded in a tense voice, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath.

“True, but lately, you’ve been performing much better than this. Right now, your tactics are sloppy, like when I first started teaching you.”

“Chess takes time to learn, right?”

“Correct, and you have the benefit of learning from an astounding genius like myself. However, your focus is not on the game, so no matter what I say, you’re still going to lose much sooner than you should.”

“It’s not over yet.”

Edward’s gaze moved from the chess board to Sara’s agitated expression, noting the almost pained look in her eyes as she tried so very hard to concentrate on the game. It was easy to see that she was becoming more panicked by the second, and whatever skills she had acquired from his teachings had gone out the window for the time being.

“No, but the way you’re tap, tap, tapping that Knight piece on the table indicates there’s a much more serious problem here,” Edward said.

Sara hadn’t even realized she was doing it, and quickly stopped once she looked down at her right hand. The Knight piece was given a much-needed break as she set it on the table and tried to gather her thoughts.

“Sorry,” Sara said, running a hand through her hair.

As much as Edward wanted for Sara to look at him, he knew how nerve-wracking it could be for her to make direct eye contact when she was upset. It did sadden him, though, that she had barely glanced at him the whole time they’d been together that day, and part of him wondered if there was something he did to make her uncomfortable -- or something he didn’t do. Both of them had a lot of pent up emotions, and while they were quick to unleash them when under stress, they were also terrible at asking for help or simply being vulnerable in general. So, he had to approach this cautiously.

“Where is your mind at, Dearest Devinette?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Sara let out a little huff which was as close to a chuckle as she could muster upon hearing one of his (rather adorable) nicknames for her.

“I’ve just got something on my mind,” she replied, resting her head in her left hand as she leaned on the table.

“Obviously,” said Edward, rolling his eyes. “But what precisely is on your mind?”

Sara chewed on her lower lip as she pondered how to respond. It was stupid, she told herself, what she was thinking, what she had been thinking, and she was almost embarrassed to admit it out loud -- let alone to herself. Edward was not going to take “no” for an answer, though, nor would he believe any lie she could toss into his lap. She was a terrible liar to begin with, and he was far too perceptive.

“It’s about, um….” Sara began, her throat starting to clamp up as her heart raced in her chest. “It’s, uh, about...a…”

The need to “hide” was too great at that moment, and Sara abruptly stood and turned her back to Edward, bringing her index finger to her mouth to bite at the second knuckle.

“It’s about a dream I had recently,” Sara confessed, her mouth dry and her heart beating so loudly in her ears she thought Edward might hear it.

“Ok?” Edward said slowly, waiting for her to continue despite feeling a little impatient.

As much as Edward wanted to help his love, there was little he could do without knowing the details of what troubled her so. Being helpless like this -- being helpless at all -- always drove him crazy. He needed to solve this, but he also needed answers first.

“Well, in the dream, we were working together,” Sara continued. “At a job. At a company. We were programmers.”

“It sounds like a very tame dream so far,” Edward commented.

“We were on a project together, and we liked each other. You liked me. I felt so happy to be noticed by a guy, and I thought I had a chance with you. But then...things changed. A new programmer started working there, a pretty blonde woman who was really smart. Like, a natural. You suddenly stopped paying attention to me, choosing to spend time with her. You both looked very happy, had lots to talk about, and whenever I tried to get your attention, you would...brush me off. You even...removed yourself from the project we were working on so you could work with this woman on a different one. I was invisible to you after that, and very alone.”

Edward felt a mixture of frustration, sympathy, confusion, and hurt over Sara’s dream. It was pure nonsense, no doubt, in every possible way, but clearly, it had an effect on her. Insecurities could twist your thoughts and emotions in painful ways, ways that didn’t even make sense. But they tugged at you until you gave into them and believed what they believed.

He could relate to that, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud.

Edward got up from the table and approached Sara, wrapping his arms around her from behind to hold her against him.

“Oh, my silly little riddle,” he said with a smile, trying to brighten her spirits in some way. “It was just a dream, nothing more.”

“But...would you ever…?” Sara asked, her voice cracking.

“Would I ever, what?”

“Leave me for someone smarter, prettier…”

“What? No! Don’t be foolish!”

Edward made Sara turn to face him, his heart breaking upon seeing her tear-streaked face.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Edward said, cupping her face in his hands so she’d look at him. “You are the only one I want to be with. That dream was absolute nonsense, My Dear. I cannot even fathom for a second the mere idea of choosing someone else over you…” He leaned in and nuzzled her nose with his, smiling sweetly. “...my favorite distraction, my Darling Devinette, my Ravishing Riddle...”

Sara snorted, a grin spreading across her face.

“My Endearing Enigma,” Edward added, relieved to see her giggling.

“The nicknames are killing me,” Sara said, wiping her face. “You’re goofy.”

“”Goofy? Goofy, you say?”

“Yes, and a total fucking nerd!”

“Oh, is that how it is then? Hmm?”

Edward scooped Sara up into his arms, humming contentedly.

“Well, this ‘Goofy Nerd’ is going to whisk you off to bed and physically -- very physically -- demonstrate to you exactly how I feel.”

“Oh, my…” Sara said with a chuckle.

“I am going to make it so that you won’t be capable of coherent thoughts or speech,” Edward said with a smirk as he carried her to their bedroom. “You’ll be so overwhelmed with pleasure that the only thing you’ll be able to do is feel. No more negative, idiotic thoughts!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sara said, biting her lip.

---

“Oh, God, Eddie, there, please!”

“You’re so perfect, My Darling, so perfect…I can’t get enough...Oh, God!”

“What?”

“Oh, no, no, no...not now!”

Sara watched Edward sit up, one hand covering the lower half of his face. While she couldn’t see anything yet, she knew what was happening.

“Oh, Eddie,” she said, quickly grabbing tissues for him.

Edward took them and applied them to his bleeding nose, looking completely humiliated. Sara reached out to him, brushing hair from his face, but he jerked away, too embarrassed to even look at her. The poor man suffered from chronic nosebleeds, probably because his nose had been broken so many times (Thanks, Batman), and sometimes he got them during the most inconvenient moments.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Sara said.

She followed Edward into the bathroom, grabbing a wad of paper towels to hand to him for his nose. He threw the bloody tissues into the waste bin with a grunt, still unable to look her in the eye.

“I’ll run a bath,” Sara said as she went to turn on the tub faucet.

Edward’s nosebleed did slow while the tub filled up, but he still hated himself. Why did he have to have one while he was in the middle of…? With her? He was supposed to be making her feel good, not...bleeding on her. It was disgusting -- he felt disgusting. What kind of lover was he?

Sara tapped Edward’s shoulder, telling him the bath was ready. He mumbled something, tossing the blood-soaked paper towels into the waste bin before turning to her. Why did she have to look at him like that? Like she was worried? Why did she care so much? Why wasn’t she angry with him for ruining ‘the mood?’ Or grossed out? There was drying blood on her shoulder still, and yet, she didn’t seem to care.

Edward and Sara got into the tub with her sitting behind him. Taking a rag, she soaked it in the bathwater then handed it to him so he could clean his nose, lips, and chin of blood, and thankfully, the nosebleed had stopped by then. When she started to shampoo his hair, her elegant fingers lightly scratching his scalp as she hummed some random tune, he remembered the dream she had told him about. Once his hair was rinsed, he turned to face her, his expression full of guilt and sorrow.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Sara asked.

“This is just one of the many reasons why I could never want someone else,” Edward said quietly. “You’re so kind to me, so gentle...and I didn’t do anything to deserve it -- to deserve you. No one has ever treated me the way you do, no one has ever looked at me the way you do, no one has ever spoken to me the way you do.... I never realized how...how alone I was until I met you. I’d do anything for you, give up everything for you…”

Even my own life, he thought.

“So, please, never doubt how much you mean to me,” Edward said.

Sara was blushing, trying to come up with a response but too flustered to speak properly.

“I...I don’t know ….I don’t know...what to say,” she admitted, smiling shyly. “I’ve….never heard someone say something like that before…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Edward assured her with a small, warm smile. “Just be with me.”

“Of course.”

Edward turned around so he could rest against her, his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. While he was planning to finish what he started once they were out of the tub and back into bed, in that moment, he felt absolutely perfect where he was. All his life, he’d never had affectionate physical contact. Sure, there was the awkward hug here and there, or obligatory embrace when he had a lover (and there were very, very, very few of those), but nothing that was genuine or even remotely pleasant.

But in moments like this one with his beloved, he felt like he could be as vulnerable as he needed because she’d never hurt or humiliate him. When she hugged him, it was always warm and welcoming. Whenever she held his hand, she loved to lace their fingers together, almost like she was “trapping” him but in the most romantic way possible. Whenever she kissed him, he felt absolutely smitten because her kisses were so comforting or even playful.

“I love you, My Dearest Horny Geek,” Sara whispered, barely holding back a cute chuckle.

Edward rolled his eyes but smirked at her outrageously endearing nickname for him.

“And I love you, My Dearest Horny Enigma,” he replied, and they both couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Two horny peas in a pod,” she said as she placed a kiss to the top of his head. “And, you know, if you’re still up for it, you could put your ‘pea’ back in my ‘pod’ once we’re done with this bath.”

Edward slowly turned his head to look up at Sara, his cheeks a bright pink and his gaze full of bewilderment. When she snorted in amusement, he soon found himself joining her in a fit of childish giggles. And here she had been worried he would fall out of love with her. No one could make him laugh or grin like he did. No one could make him feel loved and needed like she did.

Only her.

What a lucky little shit he was….

----

And there we have it! Hopefully it’s not too crappy. I’m not totally satisfied with it but don’t feel like making it a longer story (at least, not right now). Let me know what you think and damn, I have really depressing dreams sometimes.

#arkham knight riddler #edward nigma #riddler #edward nigma x oc #riddler x oc #the riddler #edward nygma #the riddler x oc #edward nygma x oc #nsft #fluff and smut #feels

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novantinuum · 3 years

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Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 700~

Summary: A series of shorts detailing what might’ve happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Some Pearl musings this time! Chapter four to be posted sometime this coming week.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

(This is chapter 3/6.)

____

Chapter 3: Pearl

“I know where his pajamas are, I’ll get them,” Pearl says once they’ve returned to the drafty, newly remodeled (albeit by tragic, unexpected accident) main room of the beach house, dutifully following Garnet up the stairs.

She’s almost thankful no one bothers to mention the obvious fact that— since the four of them living here switch out on chores like laundry and sweeping and dishes from week to week, and Steven’s kept his pajamas in the exact same drawer for years— everyone knows where his pajamas are. Thus, it would be silly to claim this as a task only she could carry out. In her case, though, she knows it’s not the task itself that matters so much as it’s the act of feeling in control of something.

Anything.

She’ll take literally anything at this fraught, emotionally charged moment in time.

In the teen’s bedroom, Garnet gently lays him down atop his comforter (his now sleeping form still enveloped in that blanket for dignity’s sake) as Pearl slides open the top drawer of his dresser to retrieve the first pair of sweatpants she can find. She doesn’t bother with underwear— figuring Steven would prefer putting that on himself when he’s conscious again— and instead works together with Garnet to move a portion of the blanket’s folds aside as she quickly slips the soft, cottony pants over his legs.

She doesn’t notice the pale pink marks spread in familiar patterns across certain expanses of his skin until she’s lifting his torso up from the mattress, intending to pull a night shirt over his head.

The first ones she sees are at his elbows, thin, about an inch long, and situated directly over the joints. Once she’s catalogued these away in her mind, however, an uneasy tension settling deep within her gem, it’s impossible to ignore the identical scarring running in jagged, parallel lines from his shoulders all the way to the small of his back. Or the marks just barely hidden in his hairline, situated right where those crystalline horns were, in the fearsome, towering creature he became. Caught amidst the consuming waves of emotional fragility today’s harrowing experience has carried in with the tide, it’s all but impossible for Pearl to hide the full spectrum of her anguish and despair. Her breath hitches as she rushes to cover up these stark, physical reminders of Steven’s delicate mental condition, of her failure to properly care for him in the loving, selfless, understanding manner he always deserved. In the end, that’s the crux of the issue, isn’t it? She failed him. His own father entrusted him to her guidance and care, and she was so tangled within threads of her own deep-rooted traumas that she couldn’t successfully carry this duty through.

“Pearl,” Garnet’s even, grounding voice cuts through the dense fog of her own self-loathing, in that special sort of tone she often uses that somehow wordlessly encourages trust and vulnerability.

She doesn’t respond immediately, instead pausing to carefully thread her fingers through some flyaway curls laying askew by Steven’s temples, brushing them back behind his ears.

(One of the very few things in this present situation she can exert some conscious degree of control over, can work to fix.)

“I... I didn’t see it coming,” she finally says, strained. “None of us did. Not really. I knew he was hurting, but I- we couldn’t help him. We pushed him towards this.” Inhaling deeply, she turns to face her directly. “What does that say about us?”

“It says that we’re flawed,” Garnet begins, raising her hand to her face to dissipate her visor. There’s melancholy in the eyes she’s just uncovered, a guilt that perfectly matches the sharp twisting nestled at her own core. “That we still have a lot to learn about how to care for one another.”

Pearl’s shoulders hunch inwards as she sighs, knowing as intimately as she can recognize the curves and blemishes of her own gem that her dear friend is absolutely correct.

“But... it also means we must learn how to better care for ourselves,” she continues, and gestures between the two of them. “That we mustn’t let ourselves wallow in guilt.” Her lips pursed, she reaches towards the sleeping boy nestled on the bed in front of them, and ruffles an affectionate hand through his tangled hair. “We may be unable to change the past, but we can work towards a healthier future. For all of us.”

#su #su future #pearl #garnet #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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simsroyallegacy · 3 years

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Anissa Crawford Speaks Out: That B*tch is Crazy!

Last night Lady Anissa Crawford, a Lunarian socialite best known for her stint as girlfriend to the teenaged Prince Nicky, broke her silence on her experiences with Princess Isadora of Castille. She gave an interview to famous late night talk show host Francesca Valentine, giving an in depth look into the early signs of Isadora’s troublesome behavior. The interview drew in millions of viewers to Late Night Tea with Francesca and started the trending hashtags #TheWickedWitch and #BurnIsadora after Lady Anissa let loose how the younger Castillian Princess would send people to harass the young socialite during her relationship with the Crown Prince. View the full interview under the cut!

Francesca Valentine (FV): Now that we’re back from the break, here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for this evening my dear viewers! Tonight’s special guest is a socialite we all know and love to hate, a woman who has dabbled in fashion design, modeling, and dating very wealthy men: Lady Anissa Crawford!

The audience bursts into applause as Lady Anissa walks onto the stage and seats herself across from Francesca.

Anissa Crawford (AC): Thank you so much for having me Francesca, I’ve always been a big fan of the show!

FV: It’s a pleasure to have you here, Anissa, though it feels like you’re always on my show one way or another.

AC: *laughs* Well, I’m always happy to give you something to talk about, dear!

FV: *smiling* Tonight you asked for this to be the platform from which you speak of events kept as secrets you’ve held close to your heart for many years now, correct?

AC: Yes. I’ve kept quiet all these years on the advice from my parents and lawyers but now that some of the truth has come out about Isadora I feel like I should share my experiences with her, if only to give the people a better understanding of what poor Nicky must have gone through and by extension Princess Minerva.

FV: It’s so brave of you to do this, Anissa, truly. Let’s start with having you explain how exactly you started your relationship with the Crown Prince?

AC: Nicky and I met at a Hartfordshire Academy sports event when we were both in our junior year of high school. I attended Hartfordshire’s sister school, an all girl’s private academy right across the street from the boys. We would rarely be allowed to interact with each other anywhere but sports events were always the exception.

FV: So you caught his eye?

AC: Actually, I started talking with one of his good friends at the time, Jack Pierson. I thought Jack was cute and wanted to get closer to him and so I started hanging out with his friends which included Nicky. Anyways, long story short Nicky and I got to be friends before we started dating; we actually didn’t realize we liked each other until he invited me on his birthday trip to Selvadorada.

FV: Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t Princess Isadora on that trip as well?

AC: She was. Everyone who went on that trip were Nicky’s closest friends and family at the time. Prince Gabriel, her older brother, had been his childhood best friend since before they turned eleven. He’s always been close to him and Isadora – he treated her like his own sister.

FV: What were your first impressions of her at that time?

AC: The moment she realized I was a part of the trip – before Nicky and I even got together on it – she was glaring at me and complaining to her brother about an “outsider” travelling with them. She made several passive aggressive comments about that childish nickname jealous little girls gave me back in my teens: “Easy-A”.

FV: What did HRH say about it? Didn’t he defend you against her?

AC: He pulled me aside and told me not to take it personally, that she did this to everyone who came into their circle of friends. Nicky pitied her because of her family situation, you see, and explained part of it to me. I pitied her too after that.

FV: Oh? Care to share?

AC: I don’t think I will, sorry, but that stuff was personal to the Castillian Royal family and I’m not comfortable airing the entire family’s dirty laundry to the world. Just know that she had a seriously messed up childhood and started taking it out on others. I tried not to let her hostile behavior get the best of me on that trip but when Nicky and I announced we were a couple she started to escalate her vicious attitude.

FV: How so?

AC: When no one was looking she’d trip me up, spill things on me, hide my things; those were just petty little kid things, honestly, and didn’t bother me too much. It was when she stole my phone and texted my parents the nastiest things – she was calling my mom wh*re and b*tch and even told my father that “I” had found out about an affair my mom was having with her assistant! – they both were so angry with me! What nobody knows about that trip is the fact that my father had me sent home early because of the cheating accusation.

FV: Was there any truth to it?

AC: Absolutely not! But at the time he honestly thought it was something I had told him in confidence, he had brought all of my siblings and my mom together for a dramatic family meeting where they started fighting over it. I had tried to tell them that it wasn’t me who said those things, that it was all a lie from that little brat but neither of them believed me.

FV: What happened during after that?

AC: My parents thought I was acting out for attention and sent me to therapy. Funnily enough, it really helped me focus on my home life and school, which were things I didn’t care too much about back then. It even ended up bringing me closer to Nicky, who was so, so supportive to me during that time. Nobody ever believed me that Isadora was the one who was using my phone to “grab attention” from my parents though.

FV: Was that the only time you had contact with her? Or were there other incidents over the years?

AC: There were tons of situations where she would straight up shove me – she even “accidentally” caused me to fall down a flight of stairs at an event I had gone to with Nicky! I ended up only spraining my ankle but that was seriously messed up of her to do – she’s obviously had a homicidal streak in her for years. It’s honestly not a surprise to me that she’s behind the attempted assassination of Princess Minerva.

AC: She would also follow Nicky around all. the. time. Honest to Watcher, she was stalking him. She’d make sure to fly out to Lunaria every weekend to see him and would become furious when he didn’t include her in his plans. She would guilt trip him constantly into inviting her along on our “dates” and when it got to the point where I’d become angry with him over it he’d pull the “she’s like my sister” card and say he’ll make it up to me.

FV: And did he make it up to you?

AC: Honestly? Yes. He was an attentive boyfriend, despite the weekly Isadora interruptance. He always knew how to make me laugh, was patient when I had my infamous diva moments, got along great with my family, and really pushed me to be better. He also bought me some pretty great gifts. *laughs*

FV: The public was in an outrage over his spending habits for your gifts, no?

AC: *snickers* He did know how to spoil a girl.

FV: If you were getting along so well, how did it all fall apart?

AC: After Nicky and I went to separate universities, we kind of took a break.

FV: Kind of?

AC: We still had every intention of getting back together in the end, but I wanted to be free during my college experience and I thought he wanted the same. He ended up rooming with Gabriel and of course Isadora constantly came around under the pretense of “visiting her big brother”.

FV: Is that sarcasm I’m detecting from you Anissa?

AC: Damn straight. I don’t know exactly what happened but she got her claws into him. Made him think I had been cheating on him for our whole relationship, – I still believe it was her who was feeding the press “exclusive” interviews about my Easy–A behavior – she also fed him lies that I was just using him for his money.

FV: You were constantly asking him for things though...

AC: I never asked him for much more than his love and time. He bought everything he knew I enjoyed because that’s the type of person he is. He’d give the entire world to the person he loves the most if he can, that’s what makes him such a great partner. I don’t know how Isadora poisoned his mind against me like that, it’s like she was a witch or something *laughs*.

FV: *laughing* Well, she’s certainly wicked!

AC: The last straw for me was after his graduation from UBrite when those photos of him and Isadora were published. I had traveled out to see him at the home he had been given as a graduation gift, hoping to talk things over with him and see if we could salvage or relationship but...*sighs*

FV: But what?

AC: Let’s just say it was too late for us. He began dating Isadora openly after we split and I vaguely remember saying some seriously nasty things when I was cornered about our split. I feel terrible for implying that Nicky was such a selfish man, that he was only with her to “get it out of his system”. He truly loved her then, I know that. He had always loved her to some degree, platonically as children and romantically after we grew into adults. I was devastated to hear about those abuse rumors – he didn’t deserve that, no one does, ever. I’m so happy she’s been exposed for what she is: a crazy b*tch. I hope they catch her soon.

FV: Will you be reaching out to HRH now that his eyes have been opened to Isadora’s evil ways? Is there a chance you could rekindle your romance?

AC: *laughing* Dear Watcher, no! That chapter of my life is over and I’ve fallen for someone else.

FV: Oh? Who is the lucky guy?

AC: *smirks* Oh Francesca, I don’t kiss and tell. Maybe you’ll see us together on my Simstagram someday...

#sims 4 royal legacy #sims 4 royal family #sims 4 monarchy #sims4 royal family #sims4 royal legacy #ts4 monarchy #ts4 royalty

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alpaca-writes · 3 years

Text

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

“I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

“This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

“Paimon.”

Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

“I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

“You are correct. You are going into this one.”

The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

“This is an abuse of power!”

“An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

“If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

“I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

“I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

“Dad?”

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

“Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

“It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

“My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

“No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

“Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

“Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

“What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

“When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

“No.”

“Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

“No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

“Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

“My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

“Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

“Where are all my clothes?!”

DING DONG

“Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

“Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

“Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

“My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

“Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked.

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both.

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

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firelordzukohere · 4 years

Text

Interior Décor- Epilogue

Hello! I’m sorry I uploaded late! I planned to post this yesterday, but it was a busy weekend! But, it’s here! I really hope you like this and it gives you an ending you appreciate.

I’m now opening requests. If there’s something you’d like to see, maybe related to Zuko and (Y/N) or anyone else, please feel free to send me an ask with a request or a prompt! I will gladly try and take a shot at it!!

Finally, I’d like to genuinely thank everyone for everything. Every single like, reblog, comment, and ask just seriously makes this so much better! I truly appreciate everyone in this fandom and I love each and every one of you!

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

Zuko X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Aangst(heh), and some implications

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Iroh felt it was time for the Palace to reflect the time of Peace and Love that Zuko promised five years earlier at his coronation. He takes it upon himself to hire an interior decorator to help his nephew out and work together. What he didn’t expect was for Zuko to possibly find his own peace and love in the process.

Chapter 4: Trompe l’oeil >> Epilogue

"When the world is at odds and the mind is at sea, then cease the useless tedium, and brew a cup of tea," a familiar voice whispered behind her, breaking her from her thoughts as she stared at the mural on the wall of the shop. Turning to him, she smiled and accepted the cup of tea he held out for her. He winked at her before turning to examine everything else going on around them. Following his lead, she watched the people within the shop mingle and enjoy their tea.

The grand opening of the Jasmine Dragon Fire Nation location was in full swing. After Iroh had bought the property in the middle ring of the nation, he hired (Y/N) on to decorate the place from top to bottom. It had taken a couple weeks as there was some structural and code issues.

Now the establishment was a beautiful, grand tea shop with hand painted murals of dragons, intricately carved out pillars, quaint seating, and the smell of tea filling every corner.

"Where do you get this stuff, Iroh?" She giggled after taking a sip of her tea. Iroh smiled to himself as he stared at his customers seemingly enjoying themselves in the brand new store.

"All old people know the perfect proverb or sentiment to say," he teased, "it comes with the age." (Y/N) let out a hearty laugh and nodded her head, accepting his claim. "This place looks wonderful, dear," the general complimented. "Your hard work has definitely paid off."

(Y/N) blushed and took another drink of tea to hide the warmth on her face. "It's your hard work General Iroh, the Fire Nation has come along way thanks to you and the Fire Lord, you both deserve success." It was Iroh's turn to blush, now.

"Speaking of my nephew, I thought he would be here with you?"

It had been exactly a year since Zuko and (Y/N) had stopped being idiots and had gotten together. They spent as much free time as they could with each other. Dinners were often spent in the garden, which the turtle ducks enjoyed due to getting spare bread chunks. Days off from the throne and decorating were usually done walking through the city in street clothes enjoying the public and the lack of advisors and guards breathing down their necks. Some holidays were spent visiting his friends in their Nations, getting to know them. After their first meeting, which was simultaneously a mess and a success, (Y/N) couldn't get enough of the GAang and insisted to always be around whenever they visited or Zuko went to visit them.

The easiest of the four to get along with was Aang, obviously since he was kind to everyone, followed by Toph who appreciated her blunt comments, closely behind was Sokka who enjoyed playing pranks on the rest with her and her sarcastic comments, but the hardest to break was Katara. Katara was protective of Zuko and she didn't want anyone to try and take advantage of the Fire Lord.

It took (Y/N) four months to convince Katara that she wasn't with Zuko for the fame and status. It had been a process but she came out victorious when Katara began sending her letters often and ended up being her closest friend of the group.

They would all tell her how apparent it was that Zuko loved her. The way he would look at her, talk about her, or even how he'd be around her.

The two had grown together over the last year.

(Y/N) learned that Zuko needed care and words of affirmation to reassure him that she was still there for him. He enjoyed cuddling and affection, which was something that was apparently new to him according to the group, as he wasn't much like that with Mai other than a few kisses here and there. Learning what kind of day he was having just based off of the way his eyes were set or how his shoulders felt, sometimes how he kissed her said it all. It was the rough days that she knew he needed extra care and she'd try to make him laugh, or show him extra attention.

Zuko discovered quickly that (Y/N) was very easy going. She went with the flow on his busy schedule, never complaining about not being able to see each other and she was always there for him whenever he needed it. Her strong attitude and demeanor to get everything done thoroughly and thoughtfully, while also compassionately was exactly what he wanted in a future Fire Lady. She still cared a lot what people thought of her, definitely having a people pleaser attitude, he figured came with the job of working with interior décor, but she had been working on it a lot since the start of their relationship, especially after the rumors grew about her possibly getting the Palace job to sleep with the Fire Lord. The rumors had been shut down quickly, especially after the people began to see how desperately in love with (Y/N), Zuko was. Soon enough, the people of the Fire Nation adored her and Zuko couldn't have been happier about it.

Now, after a year, they couldn't image their lives any other way. Zuko was finishing up big projects with Aang on making the world peaceful, and (Y/N) had several clients, including General Iroh, who were eager for her to work her magic on their interiors.

(Y/N) was definitely in a wonderful place in her life, and she couldn't help but smile and think about the man who she loved so much, causing Iroh to grin in return at the look on her face.

"He's in a council meeting, apparently he had some business with them that just couldn't wait," she teased, "he said he'd be here after."

"Knowing my nephew, it must be important, he'd come up with any reason not to meet with the Sages," Iroh chuckled. "I'm going to brew some more tea, take care of yourself dear." He said before making his way to the back.

The party was packed, people from all over the nation came to see the notorious General Iroh's brand new tea shop in the Fire Nation. She'd seen several familiar faces and some new ones. It was nice to watch as people admired her decor and the hard work she had put into making the perfect place for Iroh.

At one point, a woman walked up to her, with an apparent nervous look on her face, "Excuse me? Are you the Palace decorator?" The woman asked, causing (Y/N) to internally roll her eyes. T

hat was a new title Iroh and Zuko came up with to tease her. It had caught on quickly that Zuko had begun dating the Palace decorator and that was officially her title to anyone who wasn't in on the joke. While it helped with the business, it definitely annoyed her to think that people only wanted her because she had the official title.

"I did decorate the Palace, yes," she responded the same as she did for everyone who asked her.

"You did this place too, correct?" The woman said, gesturing to the tea shop. "As well as Captain Yuzai's home?"

"Yes, I did both," (Y/N) beamed proudly.

"I was wondering, I have a home in Ba Sing Se that just does not feel comfortable to me, would we be able to discuss the possibility of you going out there and updating it for me?"

"Absolutely! I have another possible job in Ba Sing Se, so to do both at the same time would be simple enough!" The woman grinned in return before giving her, her address in the Fire Nation and setting up a meeting next week.

Watching the woman walk away, (Y/N) couldn't help but smile before she gasping as someone covered her eyes with their hands.

"You look beautiful tonight," he whispered in her ear before moving his hands away. Turning to look at the Fire Lord, (Y/N) blushed. "I'm sorry I'm late. I hope Uncle doesn't hate me too much." She shook her head with a giggle.

"You know he could never hate you!" She chastised before standing up and pressing her lips to his scar affectionately. "I'm glad you're here. How was your meeting?" Zuko's body tensed. "That bad, huh?"

He brushed a strand of (Y/H/C) from her face and shook his head, "it was good, we got everything done, properly. I don't want to talk about some boring old men though, I'd much rather you and I smile a bit, mingle and then go back to the Palace and have a proper dinner." His lips pressed to hers, immediately warming her body with his affection.

"Mmm... I'm not sure" she pulled back slightly and smiled, "I'm having so much fun here. I've been getting new job offers and I think I heard Iroh brought ice cream from the Water Tribe," she teased. "You'll have to do some real convincing to get me to go back with you."

Zuko chuckled, "if you come back with me, I can convince you much more thoroughly" his voice low and raspy. (Y/N)'s cheeks burned and she looked down at the cup in her hand, attempting to gain control of her brain and her body. "Plus, I have a present for you." Her attention whipped right to him and she frowned, her brows furrowed deeply and her lip pouted out just barely.

"No! We promise we weren't going to do presents! I thought we agreed to wait until you were on your leave and go to Ember Island and that would be our present to each other!" Zuko rested his hand on her elbow and shook his head.

"It's not that kind of present, just trust me," he whispered, attempting to reassure her. "We're still going to Ember Island in the summer. Just you and me." He pecked her nose gently. She let out a breath and nodded her head. The one thing she could do was trust him. "I love you," he whispered before pressing his lips gently to her forehead, "Now let's go mingle so I can take you back to the palace, the turtle ducks are hungry." He teased making (Y/N) let out a giggle.

"We’d be horrible parents if we left those poor dears starving," she winked before following him toward a group of people to talk with.

People fawned over Zuko, like they always did, and he accepted it with such humility. Instead of allowing people to talk about him and his accomplishments as a young Fire Lord, he would turn the discussion on others, asking them about their businesses, their family, aspirations in life, all of it. He didn't just nod his head and deafly listen, instead he would ask questions about their answers, or follow up with a story of his own to relate, letting them know he was thoroughly listening to them. He was a caring Fire Lord and (Y/N) couldn't help but fall in love with him more and more. Zuko was a natural at being the lead of the Nation and she knew it had a lot to do with his past and what shaped him into the man he was today, the wonderful, compassionate, handsome man.

"So Fire Lord Zuko," one of the elderly woman interrupted a conversation about farming in the outer parts of the Fire Nation, "it has been almost a year hasn't it?" She asked, gesturing to (Y/N) and him. "Any thoughts about the future? You know those single women are getting restless about if this is serious or not." The woman winked and (Y/N)'s body stilled. She couldn't believe this woman was implying that their relationship wasn't serious. Zuko, seemed a bit taken aback by her question as well, clearing his throat several times.

"I'm not sure what that means, Ume," Zuko responded diplomatically, "I can assure you though, I will not be getting rid of Miss (Y/N) here, anytime soon," he wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her closer, producing a blush onto her cheeks.

"Ah, young love," Ume fawned, "I'll have to tell my granddaughter that there's no chance then," she playfully pouted before turning her attention to the other ladies who were gushing over Zuko's declaration.

With the distraction, Zuko leaned toward (Y/N) pressing his lips to her ear, "let's find Uncle and then get out of here." She nodded desperately and allowed him to lead her toward the back of the shop, where Iroh was talking with one of his workers with delight.

"The earnings tonight will carry us into next month and we'll make a large profit in no time! Your hard work has been greatly appreciated, Iruna," Iroh complimented, "you can leave for the night, go enjoy your evening with your family." The woman bowed gratefully and rushed out the door before Iroh could change his mind. When the General caught Zuko's form in the corner of his eye, his smile grew, brightly. "Fire Lord Zuko!" He wrapped his nephew into a deep hug. When they released Zuko returned his arm to (Y/N)'s waist. "How did your meeting with the council go? Did you get their approval?" Zuko nodded his head and his Uncle grinned. "Wonderful! The future of the Fire Nation is looking bright!"

"Uncle, we were just coming over to give our congratulations. I'm going to go take (Y/N) to dinner at the Palace, if you don't mind." Iroh shook his head and began shooing them toward the door.

"Go enjoy your evening. One year together is a great feat for anyone, celebrate!"

With quick goodbyes and hugs, (Y/N) and Zuko made their way to the Palace. It was a nice evening out and neither complained about walking side by side back.

"I can't believe it's been a year," Zuko said after a few minutes of silence. "It feels like it's been a couple of weeks," he confessed. "I know I've been busy, but I feel like everything in the Palace is still so new since you changed it up. I'm still finding small details you've added, like the dragon carvings inside my wardrobe, or the flames painted inside of the sconces." (Y/N) smiled at her boyfriend.

"Good, that means I've done my job properly, each day should feel like a fresh one inside of your home." Zuko chuckled and pulled her closer as they walked. "I can't believe it's been a year either. So much has happened in such a little time. We went from client, decorator, to fighting the council on if I was a proper courtship for you, to dealing with the public about my true intentions, to meeting your friends, becoming friends with your friends, and now we're at a year." She reminisced. They had definitely hurdled over many obstacles in their relationship, but nothing stopped them from being together. There was never a doubt over their feelings for each other.

"I'm interested to see what our future looks like," Zuko's voice was soft. (Y/N) nodded and they returned to their comfortable silence as they walked toward the Palace.

When they arrived, Zuko had everything already prepared. Dinner in the garden was a sweet little picnic full of food. It was their favorite foods and desserts piled onto a maroon blanket placed nicely next to the pond. (Y/N) was ecstatic at the site and leaned over to her boyfriend, pecking him on the cheek affectionately before grabbing his hand and walking with him toward the spot.

After their dinner outside in their garden, (Y/N) was kneeled next to the pond, playing with the turtle ducks while Zuko walked around. She didn't say anything, but he seemed to be on edge after the food and she wondered if maybe something hadn't sat right with him. To help ease his tension, she tried humming a bit, pretending it was for the turtle ducks, when in fact, she knew he enjoyed her tunes as well. He had said it reminded him of his mother the first time he caught her doing it.

Zuko turned to look at her, while her attention was on the duck, he couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have been with such an amazing and beautiful woman. While he was annoyed at the question Ume had asked during the tea shop's opening, he was also grateful because it gave him a chance to set the boundary that (Y/N) wasn't going anywhere. He was in love with her.

"General Iroh's shop looked wonderful," he complimented her softly as he walked behind her, leaning against the tree that hung over the pond. She looked up at him and grinned before turning her focus back to the pond.

"Thank you, I'm glad you think so, I really hope people enjoy it and it helps Iroh's business out."

"People weren't able to keep their eyes off of the décor, (Y/N)," Zuko said, trying to let her know that she didn't have to be modest.

"I guess that's true…I did have a woman come up and ask me to take a job with her in Ba Sing Se, I already have a job there next month with that Nobleman's wife, I'm sure getting both done at once would be great." Her voice proud as she discussed her business, another thing Zuko couldn't help but adore about her. "However," her tone turned playful, "I could do without the 'Palace Decorator' silliness I keep hearing," she teased.

"That's what you are," he joked back, "no one else on this planet will ever be allowed to touch the Palace while I'm Fire Lord, I might as well let everyone know that now," he poked fun, "though, if you don't like that title…" he began, reaching into his pocket while she was still looking into the pond, "I'm sure a promotion is in order." He pulled out the object he had been carrying around all night, holding it just perfectly that the light glinted onto the golden surface.

Not seeing this action, (Y/N) snorted out a laugh, "A promotion? Oh come on Zuko, there's not much else I can get promoted to," she turned to look at him as she spoke, "other than the--" that's when her eyes caught the object in his hands and all words escaped her. Her mouth formed into an O, all amusement washed away.

"Fire Lady?" He asked, attempting to keep his voice level as he held up the royal headpiece typically worn by the Fire Lady.

(Y/N)'s eyes darted between Zuko and the crown, attempting to decipher if he was joking or not.

"Zuko, you can't be serious…" her voice low and filled with uncertainty as she spoke her thoughts out loud. He couldn't actually be implying this.

"Dead serious," he said, taking a step toward her, still holding the piece in his hand as he did. "I want to spend every day with you, go back to our room after a long day and relax with you, redecorate the Palace every single year with you, make fun of the Sages with you, dance every night with you,, all of it...with you." He whispered. "There's nothing I've been more sure of in my entire life. Which isn't saying much, since it's been filled with more than enough uncertainty, but you…" he finally reached her, "are the only certainty I've ever known."

"Me? Fire Lady?" She looked down at his chest, unable to focus on his molten eyes or the crown in his hand. "I…" All logic escaped her forcing her to dig through her mind and figure out a reason behind all of this. "The Sages, they'll never agree to it."

"They already did, this afternoon," his tone calm and collected. He knew this was a shock to her, it was a shock to him, but he had known that he wanted this since the first time she smiled at him and giggled.

"That's what your meeting was about?" Her eyes darted up to him, surprised at this revelation. It wasn't some meeting about the nation, it was to get their approval on her being Fire Lady. Then Iroh's words rang in her head.

Knowing my nephew, it must be important, he'd come up with any reason not to meet with the Sages.

How did your meeting with the council go? Did you get their approval?

The future of the Fire Nation is looking bright.

Iroh knew.

"(Y/N), am I just going to hold this thing all night, or are you going to say yes?" Zuko teased as he watched her try to reason through everything in her mind.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she loved this man more than anything in the world and here he was before her, asking her to spend the rest of his life with her. It was everything she had ever hoped, but still somehow felt like such a dream.

"You didn't ask me," she smiled up at him, her tone completely void of panic now.

"(Y/N), my love, my Palace decorator," he winked causing her to giggle, "marry me. Become the Fire Lady that this nation, this world, needs, the Fire Lady I need." Resting his forehead against hers, he smiled.

"Yes," she whispered and immediately his lips slanted over hers, pulling her into an intense kiss. After a few moments, they separated slightly, catching their breaths, when he placed the crown into the half topknot she had luckily decided to wear that day.

"I love you," he purred into her ear, before placing a chaste kiss on her temple.

"I love you too Fire Lord Zuko," she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady (Y/N)," his goofy grin plastered across his face, "I like the sound of that." Before she could respond, Zuko captured her lips with his again.

(Y/N) couldn't help but think back to what Zuko had said earlier that night:

I'm interested to see what our future looks like.

She couldn't agree more.

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Tag List: @royahllty @mangoberry43 @mrskeishasdead @taeeemin @blushbadger @shortmexicangirl @fire-lady-livi @jujugentle @nnon-it-up

#atla #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #zuko #Fire Lord Zuko #firelordzukohere #iroh #general iroh #x reader #x y/n #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fluff #atla fluff

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entropictome · 3 years

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Holiday Hot Pot

S:Final Fantasy XIV No plot or purpose. Just one man, his friends, family, his overwhelming grief and their very late Starlight. [mentioned non-WoL OCxThancred] 5754 words [ More FFXIV Content ]

“You look like shit.”

Moth’ir was missing his characteristic shades so all four occupants could clearly see the viera’s tactless comment send his eyes rolling. Five if the infant in his arms wasn’t soundly asleep. His comeback was snappy as always. “Thanks, kid. Thought I’d take a page from your book for a change.”

The Burn’s reaction was immediate. His rage coiled in his arms as he quickly changed stance. Ever one to turn to violence before reason. His voice rose as he started “,Why are you always-”

The rest was swallowed by a mitten plopped against his mouth. His smaller─but no less dangerous─companion shot him a long suffering look. Keeping The Burn’s temper under control was like trying to keep a lit match from igniting firedamp in a coal mine. Most folks had no hope but to abandon the mission to begin with. Ibuki was the sole exception. Though she could give him a good and proper dressing-down, it didn’t take much besides a sigh and disappointed look to upend his rampage before it started.

The anger didn’t go away, it just receded, but it allowed the pale and dark scaled auri to turn their attention back to their long missing friend. The three gathered around him with varying levels of interest. Leaving Havhen to flail helplessly as their presence was quickly forgotten in that of Moth’ir’s. Whom was obviously the more respected between the two when it came to their present company.

“You’ve been gone for months without word! We were really worried!” Ibuki stated, nearly whining with the intensity of her sincerity.

“We would have come sooner but there were a lot of things to take care of,” the Xaela man spoke apologetically. “There were so many festivals and trying to keep the bar staffed with so many people wanting days off and of course the Basement-”

Ibuki elbowed her much taller compatriot and cut his further worrying off by enthusing “,but Bukidai has dealt with all of it marvelously well so you don’t need to worry.”

“Oh?” Moth’ir looked at the Xaela with an appraising look. Though, paired with an easy grin, it was unlikely he was being serious. “Food baskets?”

“All delivered as of yesterday,” Bukidai, who was serious, assured him. “Thanks to our volunteers.”

“Volunteers is it? Did Mr. Auberdine show up?” Moth’ir asked and chuckled lightly when he saw Bukidai’s surprise.

“Ah, yes. Though we had to ask him to leave-”

“Because he was trying to convince everyone that volunteers deserved two baskets for their trouble.” Moth’ir interrupted, leaving Bukidai startled once again. “Did that every year. A few others too. Reason why I started delivering them my own damn self if I’m honest.”

“Every year?” Bukidai’s horror was indication enough that Mr. Auberdine had thrown one of his characteristic fits before he allowed himself to be let go.

“Grew up as a wealthy merchant’s son and then his family landed themselves in dire straights with bad investments,” Moth’ir shrugged. He was sympathetic but the sympathy was for Booker, not the man. “He’s remarkably less worse than he was but he’s never quite gotten over the idea he deserves more than everyone else.”

Bukidai sighed and shook his head. “Regardless, I think we can make do with our other volunteers if they want to pitch in again.”

“If you say so,” Moth’ir said dubiously. Bukidai held unto hope for dear life but Moth’ir had been divested of that a long long time ago. “Take care with old U’leh. Greying Miqo’te lady, very unassuming. She likes to troll through some of the donated items in Spring and Autumn for cakes to raffle off at her little charity parties.”

“She raffles off donated cakes?” Bukidai was aghast then pulled himself off the topic for another. “Spring is an awful long time away. Aren’t you coming back?”

“If you need to break out, we’ve got you,” Ibuki rose her sweater’s sleeve so she might flex her otherwise deceptively pudgy arm. Havhen─who had been watching their interaction with keen interest and was not familiar with Ibuki’s playful personality─shot Moth’ir an alarmed look over her shoulder.

“Contrary to whatever belief you might have, I am here of my own free will,” Moth’ir stated firm enough that they knew he meant it. He had certainly come of his own accord anyway. Staying was less than thrilling since he didn’t much care for the sole physician in this strange hospital. Divulging why was far more personal than he was comfortable sharing but he did add a “More or less.”

“More or less?” The Burn attention had been momentarily bought by the possibility of fighting.

Moth’ir gave him a stern look “,I’m staying.”

It was the right thing to do. More than that, it was where Thancred had left him. Left them. The four of them descended into an awkward silence. None of whom seemed particularly thrilled with the prospect.

Ibuki, hopping from one foot to the next, tried her best to break the quiet. “Is the baby yours? Bukidai said you left because you were feeling sick and had suspected but we didn’t know for sure.”

“Ibuki!” Bukidai chastised her.

Moth’ir gave him a solid kick to the shin. Which might have actually hurt had he been wearing anything but his slippers. He gasped and proclaimed with played up scandalization “What a gossip!”

Havhen was likely the only one of them who noticed the slight hissing. Something which indicated an actual irritation from Moth’ir he hid by dramatizing it.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ibuki asked before throwing her arms up and blithely gesturing “,you know, for now.”

It was a joke that three of them understood better than the other two. Though she wasn’t aware of Havhen’s case. She had quite nearly forgotten they were there at all. Which was more or less in their favor as they were busy taking mental notes. Specifically on Moth’ir’s face after Ibuki asked her question. Moth’ir had settled into fatherhood like a round peg in a square hole. He’d fallen in but the corners weren’t right. Fairly typical of new parents but he’d taken his ineptitude as immediate failure and the guilt had landed him here in Havhen’s care. He’d only just been able to acknowledge his daughter directly at all.

Moth’ir visibly braced himself before muttering “,it’s uh... she.”

“She’s so cute! Can I hold her?” Ibuki thrust her arms out exuberantly. Either not noticing the stumble or too polite to point it out. Moth’ir handed her over mayhaps a bit too eagerly but the fact he’d been carrying her without needing to was progress. Havhen made a note of it.

Holding a baby was something Ibuki had enough experience in that she hadn’t needed coaching. Utterly doting, she looked fairly natural cooing down at the fussy bundle who had begun to stir due to the commotion and movement. Moth’ir struggled not to look miserable watching the pair, ears flattened against his head. Grief that went unnoticed now that all attention was on the baby.

“What’s her name?” Bukidai asked pleasantly.

“Doesn’t have one.” Moth’ir said flatly. Bukidai looked to him with confusion but Moth’ir waved him off and continued. “Her dad thought I should name her but I’ve been preoccupied and just... haven’t.”

Havhen distinctly remembered the white haired hyur had mentioned he’d wanted Moth’ir to name her because it might help them bond. And something about having already named two girls but that hadn’t been meant for Havhen’s ears. The concern of Moth’ir’s friends weren’t at all alleviated by the explanation but Bukidai had enough sense to recognize Moth’ir’s agitation. He simply nodded and smiled, if a bit awkwardly. “I’m sure it will come to you soon.”

Moth’ir brushed him off, glanced over at the window and the dwindling light outside. Whatever he’d wanted to see there caused him to sigh. He postulated “,You three didn’t really have a plan once you got here, did you?”

Said three exchanged glances that said they hadn’t and then all four heads turned to Havhen. The physician shook their head and crossed their arms in front of them. “Absolutely, not! This is a mental care facility! Not an inn!”

“It’s not like you’ve got any other patients and there’s not exactly a line waiting,” Moth’ir stated sternly.

“Nevertheless there are professional standards I have to adhere to,” Haven pushed back with just as much authority.

“It’s a madhouse,” Moth’ir exclaimed incredulously “,You’re already a joke and a half!”

“Not a madhouse!” Haven corrected him with a great deal of passion. “Those facilities garner their reputation by focusing on containment and are as like to cause as much─if not more─damage to their patients had they just left them alone. This facility is for study and treatment with the intent of rehabilitation.”

Havhen was a generally genial person but this was a subject they were particularly staunch on. Moth’ir, on the other hand, was just normally stubborn and exceedingly opinionated. Where the standoff would go was any one’s guess but it wasn’t likely to be clean. With that in mind, Ibuki interjected “,that’s actually quite fascinating! I’d love to get an interview with you on the subject for an article. Mor Dhona isn’t that far from Ul’dah, I’m sure some of my readers would love to know more.”

“You’re a reporter?” Havhen asked, scrutinizing the pastel garbed auri woman closer. “Publicity would be nice but your ilk are so fond of twisting things on their head for greater attention.”

“Well, you’re in luck because miss Bunji is far more partial toward fluff pieces,” Bukidai noted with a fair bit of amusement.

“Oh! I’m so tired of writing hard hitting news! Everyone is so wary of talking to me now but I don’t mean to find bad things! I’m just very good at tripping into them,” her sudden outburst sounded surprisingly sincere considering it’s absurdity. It had also upset the baby who she quickly went about soothing. “Oh! I’m so sorry, dear thing. It’s okay! Nothing’s wrong! You’re not running a money laundering business out of here are you?”

The last question was aimed at Havhen who simply held their hands up defensively. “If I was I wouldn’t be struggling to make rent.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ibuki sighed as she gently rocked the baby back to complacency.

Havhen considered the three newcomers and nodded approvingly. “Alright. You can stay for a short while.”

There was a short lived celebratory movement before Havhen added: “Under the condition you do chores around the building and submit yourselves for an interview of my own.”

Moth’ir balked. “Nevermind, everyone can go sleep outside.”

Havhen crossed his arms and said firmly “,if she’s going to write about my organization she might as well get the best understanding of what I’m trying to do.”

“I think we can handle some housework and questions,” Bukidai offered, trying to hearten Moth’ir whose grimace only deepened in return.

Moth’ir threw his hands up and shook his head but went to his next order of business “,Regardless, your kitchen stock is atrocious. Scribbles, go out and see what food stuffs you can pick up for tonight. It’s Starlight and almost sundown so don’t expect a lot.”

“You can count on me!” Ibuki chirped despite his sentiment and snapped off a salute unfamiliar to Havhen.

“You,” he pointed at The Burn “,there’s some weird creatures out of town. Ask around the adventurers, see what all is edible and how, kill it and bring the proper bits back.”

The Burn grinned and smacked his fists together. “I can do that.”

“As long as you can ask politely and don’t pick a fight,” Ibuki said to him as more of a warning than anything else.

“You’re with me in the kitchen,” Moth’ir nodded toward Bukidai “,let’s prep and you can see if you have any more ideas about what we have on hand than I.”

“And me?” Havhen pointed at themself.

“You’re on baby duty.” Moth’ir gestured dramatically toward his daughter, still in Ibuki’s arms who passed her off to them.

“Alright kids, we have a short amount of time and very little to work with. Let’s move,” Moth’ir gestured and his people went to do as they were asked.

Havhen and the child watched them all scatter. Before today Moth’ir had been antagonistic and withdrawn around them. This commanding man and the willingness of his peers to follow his direction was bemusing. Both attitudes were entirely alien from the way he had been with his beau. At least when he didn’t think Havhen was looking. Assuming different personae to suit different groups was normal enough but, when all was said and done, some of Moth’ir’s faces would likely have to die to save the host.

“It should be an interesting night for us, I think.” They cooed gently to the nameless girl.

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

Havhen had hoped they might be able to observe something that would give them clarity on Moth’ir in the process of the night. What they happened to see was utter chaos. Babies need care and Moth’ir’s child was particularly fussy without any seeming need to be. A fact even her wet nurse had noted. Then there was the utter mess that Moth’ir and Bukidai were making in their kitchen. Which was adequate enough by Havhen’s standards but not theirs.

The Burn returned first. A bit bloodied for his trouble. He’d gotten a handful of strange looking material he all swore was good for eating in a variety of ways. Havhen had some doubts but Moth’ir took him at his word.

“Who did you piss off?” Moth’ir asked passively after getting a proper look at the viera’s nose.

“Some weird frogs, some newts, wriggly things, you know,” The Burn gestured toward his assorted meats as if the question in itself was inane.

“I said: who,” Moth’ir reiterated, pointedly.

The Burn crossed his arms and stood defiantly. Which unraveled under Moth’ir’s steely gaze and he finally yelled “,it was some roegadyn, okay? Didn’t like the way I asked and wouldn’t listen so he started punching. He was asking for it.”

Moth’ir shrugged and shook his head. He wasn’t exactly pleased but the disappointment didn’t stick. He said to The Burn “,Thanks for the bits, kid. Since you’re here, try and keep that one out of our hair.”

Moth’ir gestured toward Havhen, saying to them: “And you? Good luck.”

It was a particularly perplexing series of statements that cleared itself up over the course of a brief conversation. Havhen came to the conclusion that The Burn would make a good case study if he’d allow it. Alas, it was unlikely that The Burn would avail himself to their care so Havhen was forced to deal with him on a social level. Which was an exceedingly unpleasant task. He was combative, sullen, and downright rude without any self awareness. A hungry malboro would have made better company.

Luckily, Ibuki returned not too long after. If her strength had been in question, it was not now as she managed to juggle a notable number of boxes. Of which she was more hampered by the awkwardice of their distribution than their weight.

“What did you do? Buy the whole market?” Bukidai exclaimed as he started offloading her parcels.

“There’s a lot more in the market than food, you know,” Ibuki retorted. “I just got things that they said were edible and looked good.”

“Is that a whole dodo?” Moth’ir asked as he eyeballed what she’d brought in.

“Yup! The man said I could have it cheap because it’s Starlight,” she said as she divested herself of her last package. Arms free, Ibuki turned to Havhen and stretched them out to them “,let me see the baby!”

They could hardly deny her after she asked so passionately.

“More likely that the seller misjudged his buyer’s needs and wanted to offload it quickly,” Moth’ir commented looking the bird over. He’d found little wrong with it all the same.

“Oh! Oh!” She hopped back around to face him after having secured the baby in her arms “,I was thinking maybe a hot pot would be good?” Ibuki’s suggestion sounded more like the favorite child pleading a favor of an otherwise stern parent.

“I think I saw a burner for one,” Bukidai added with a questioning note. Indirectly asking why Havhen would have one to begin with.

“I’m quite particular towards hot pot dishes, myself,” Havhen explained “,I should have noodles too.”

Ibuki looked enthused for all of a second before she schooled herself back and asked “,like, spaghetti?”

Havhen gave her a sympathetic look and patted her and the shoulder “,I’m not sure I’ve had pasta in a hot pot. Personally, I’m preferential toward glass noodles but I have udon too.”

This suitably reignited Ibuki’s excitement. She nearly launched herself at Havhen, might have had it not been for the babe, asking “,you have a lot of stuff from Othard here, actually. Have you gone to Kugane?”

Havhen suspected the woman might be a tad homesick but unfortunately had to shake their head. “Not myself. The matrons of my clan told me stories of Yanxia from when we’d travel before the Garlean occupation. I believe it’s a short boat ride between?”

Moth’ir audibly hissed. A thing so uncharacteristic that it completely silenced the room a second and then was immediately moved on from. Moth’ir’s friends assuming it had been unintentional; like a sneeze. They hadn’t been told that Havhen had just happened to be Moth’ir’s long lost sibling. That their clan had once been his. At least, before they’d left him to die as a small child. But Havhen did.

They gave him an apologetic look. Divulging details about their clan hadn’t been their intent. It was an act which Moth’ir had very clearly expressed wanting nothing to do with. Their conciliation did little to quell the absolute rage that Moth’ir was having trouble keeping from his face. Cooking did though.

Havhen and Ibuki settled into chatting idly about Othard while the babe slept in her arms. The Burn─whose chaotic nature had been hard contained just moments before─sat calmly watching Ibuki. A man who was seeing his girlfriend in a domestic light for the first time and wasn’t sure what to think. Havhen rather thought he looked awed. The dining table they sat at and the kitchen were hardly separated. Only a partition that covered perhaps half the room from view. With The Burn preoccupied, he could hardly stop Havhen from observing Moth’ir.

Havhen had thought Bukidai might be in charge of the hot pot, seeing a Xaela would surely know more of the concept than a Eorzean born miqo’te. He was no doubt talented but it was to Moth’ir’s beck and call that he scurried. Ibuki mentioned to them that the pair had come to Kugane some time ago and that’s when Moth’ir had picked up some new techniques. Havhen was fairly impressed that anyone could simply “pick up” traditional methods from one trip but there was a great deal they did not know about Moth’ir.

Ibuki and his hyur “friend” had both spoken about Moth’ir’s prowess as a craftsman. The man had asked him to make a dress for their child and what he produced was of a higher quality than Havhen had expected. The act of putting the dress on the baby had helped Moth’ir acknowledge her and he’d since made several articles of it’s ilk. They had encouraged it because it seemed to be a source of catharsis for him. In the kitchen, Moth’ir seemed just as at home as he did with a sewing needle. Though these two fields were not the limits of his capabilities, Ibuki confirmed they were two specialties of his many interests.

He also seemed to be cooking more or less as a stress relief at the moment. As evidenced by the increasing number of plates Bukidai was producing.

“This is actually pretty early for us.”

It was a lovely little spread. Maybe more geared toward ten people than five. Ibuki had gotten her hot pot. Her eyes glittered despite the fact some of the ingredients used were… questionable in texture. It did look appetizing despite knowing where some of it had come from.

“Do you usually make so much food too?” Havhen eyed the spread and glanced to Bukidai.

“Uh…” Bukidai sheepishly responded, rubbing the back of his neck and then taking a moment to remove his neck tie as he’d suddenly become cognizant of it. “Yes and no? Traditionally, we cook a lot more but we also share with the neighborhood.”

“They do that at the end of every moon but Starlight is supposed to be special,” The Burn noted dully.

“Must be profitable in Ul’dah,” Havhen suggested without having any real clue.

“Oh, it’s all free though.” Ibuki commented cheerily.

“Who knew you were such a philanthropist?” Havhen remarked, turning around only to find Moth’ir missing. They stepped into the kitchen and found him sitting behind the partition. His head between his knees and both hands resting on the back of his neck.

“Gimme a moment.” He’d murmured, completely devoid of any venom he’d usually summon. He could only turn with a facsimile of it when Havhen sat beside him but the comment he’d expected to have to beat off never came. They simply sat there quietly.

Bukidai pretended to busy himself with the spread once again. Shooing Moth’ir’s clockwork toy off the table. He remarked “,that thing has a mind of it’s own.” A statement that started Ibuki and The Burn on a discussion on whether it had been set to follow the babe─since it was never far away from her─or if it was actually possessed. For that matter, where was the other one? None of the three had seen that one in a while. They only made indirect mentions of the man whose countenance both automatons shared. Neither Ibuki or The Burn knew what his relation was to Moth’ir though they’d seen him from time to time. Only Bukidai had any clue.

Bukidai who much preferred this to impeding on Moth’ir’s privacy any more than he already had.

They sat like that for a long time. The three younger ones chatting amicably amongst themselves while the miqo’te siblings sat out of view. After a bit, Moth’ir had gathered himself enough to pull himself to a more relaxed position. Havhen gave him a moment before risking a quiet remark “,they sound like family.”

Moth’ir only hmm’d at first. When he managed to speak, his voice was quiet too but the lack of force was from the palpable exhaustion that colored the tone. The kind of exhaustion unrelated to sleep. He replied “,Maybe they are. Ul’dah is a long way from the Steppes, Hingashi and wherever the hell The Burn fell out of.”

“Ul’dah is a long way from the Twelveswood too,” Havhen said gently as they could “,but you seem keener to keep your distance.”

“So many questions,” Moth’ir spat but even this indignation lacked fire.

“When one cannot find answers they are often left with nothing but questions,” Havhen replied pleasantly enough. It still pissed Moth’ir off.

The Burn was yelling about something but Ibuki and Bukidai were laughing. At his worst there was a request he calm down because he was disturbing the baby. Words which were also choked with laughter.

Moth’ir let them hang there. Content to sit and listen and not at all up to acknowledging what was a valid statement. He was supposed to be getting better after all but sometimes Havhen and their questions made him want to disappear into the swamp.

“If you don’t celebrate on Starlight, what do you do?” Havhen asked him, trying another angle.

Moth’ir sighed with his whole body. He tried to say “stuff” but all he managed was a weak roll of his wrist.

“You and your man must have some traditions?” Havhen offered.

Moth’ir snorted. The idea of Thancred being any one person’s was cute to him. Even after the hyur had confessed all those things to him before he’d left. Before Moth’ir had had the ability to say it back. Words that he so desperately wanted to say back. They pooled in the back of his throat and begged to be released so Moth’ir did something uncharacteristic of him and spoke about him. If just to speak of him at all. “Thancred’s not usually home when the holidays come around. ‘Specially not these last couple years but when he is it’s just a drink and then sleeping in.”

“Festive,” Havhen said with a chuckle.

Admittedly it didn’t sound like much but it had meaning for him. Maybe Thancred too. A tradition started nearly a decade ago. A rare occasion when Thancred hadn’t had any luck with any fair maiden despite his “silver tongue.” Too inebriated to make it to his lodgings but just sober enough to crash against the backdoor of Moth’ir’s home and workplace. Thancred almost looked dignified sitting there, looking like a misplaced gift from Nymeia’s Saint after Moth’ir’s very long and miserable day.

Thancred somehow talked him into one single drink for the occasion despite Moth’ir’s distaste for alcohol. So they might be on equal footing or some line of the sort. Though Moth’ir wasn’t anywhere near as intoxicated by the time he’d managed to dump Thancred in his bed. Then they’d passed out in a sleep near as deep as death itself. An act remarkable for the both of them.

All their important moments seemed to be in that bed. Very few─if any─had a thing to do with Thancred’s typical salacious activities. It was another sort of intimacy only available to them in the privacy and relative safety of Moth’ir’s room. Honestly and vulnerability that they’d not allowed themselves anywhere else. And yet...

“I didn’t realize you lived together.”

Moth’ir rolled a hand dismissively again. “Some of his stuff is at my place but I don’t think he lives anywhere anymore.”

“Too busy doing what he does.” Havhen said with some meaning. Near everyone who paid attention to the daily happenings around them had some conception of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn even if they didn’t know each member. Savior’s of the realm and at their center the indomitable Warriors of Light.

But Thancred was quite faliable. It was one of his charms.

“I don’t want to go back.” Moth’ir said so quietly Havhen almost didn’t hear him.

Havhen lightly bumped his shoulder against Moth’ir’s. “His life is largely here in Mor Dhona now, isn’t it?”

Moth’ir crossed his arms over his knees and pressed his eyes there to shut out the pressure from behind his eyes. He’d had some conception of Thancred’s work but it was something alien and distant. He imagined it was much the same for Thancred and Moth’ir’s work outside the Tavern. They’d known each other in a way that no one else did─that no one was supposed to─but they’d lived separate lives save where they let it intertwine. A special and private part of themselves tailor made for each other. It had worked. Might have continued to work but then Thancred had taken him from this hospital to the Rising Stones.

He’d met the women who’d given Thancred a shave and a haircut and found he’d liked them both despite that. Hadn’t recognized the man with the sun and stars before he spoke because he’d been missing the goggles and shroud he’d seen him in before. Lightly roasted Thancred with a Seeker woman with whom he shared new material to his friend’s chagrin. One of them would tell him if anything happened to Thancred while he was on the field. Thancred had assured him of such before he’d left.

And he’d liked that. He liked the idea that he’d be one of the first to know. He liked that Thancred had shown him context to the part of his life that had been a thin outline. But Moth’ir could never go back to waiting and wondering and subtext and half told stories they were too tired to finish telling because living it had been too much. He liked knowing and he liked being here and he knew he could never ever go back to that room. It’s privacy and false safety be damned.

He’d fooled himself into thinking he’d feel differently once he returned and started to go around the usual rounds but here he was. The same comedy routine fit like a glove but it was a glove that weighed as much as a buffalo and he was so tired. More than that: “They don’t need me,” Moth’ir said, choking back something that might have been a sob. Though he didn’t know why or what he was feeling exactly.

“It’s gonna get co~ld,” Ibuki’s voice came from beyond the partition.

Bukidai’s voice came after, raised suspiciously “,alright! alright! But make sure you don’t eat everything!” His added emphasis that the couple had had a habit of scarfing down an absurd amount of food returned to a normal pitch but the reaction to it was no less raucous.

Havhen shook their head in agreement and said “,Maybe once, but they do seem to have themselves covered now.”

“Wish I did,” Moth’ir breathed. Drawing himself up and closing his eyes, trying to center himself once more.

It was quiet between them again. The only sound coming from Ibuki singing over what was assumedly a well done meal. But Moth’ir broke the silence by turning to them and stating “,I never wanted children.”

Havhen cocked an eyebrow at him but let him continue on his own without prompting. So Moth’ir continued. “I did when I decided to keep her but I never wanted children. I don’t know how to do this and I don’t… how do we do this? I don’t know how to name kids.”

Havhen considered the distance Moth’ir had kept himself from his family and friends. They considered that he carried internalized feelings of guilt as if his abandonment was due to his own fault. The way he shied away from his daughter and the way he tormented himself for having done so. They wondered if “I never wanted” simply meant he hadn’t thought he should as if he was not worthy.

Moth’ir could simply have been asking for their opinion but the emphasis on “we” seemed like more. They did not know if he meant as keepers or as a clan. They weren’t sure if offering their typical naming conventions would be much use to him. Havhen offered a smile and said “,Oh, I’m not sure it’s all very complicated. You just pick something you think sounds nice or has meaning to you.”

Moth’ir sighed, clearly unsatisfied by that answer. Answers to a question that wasn’t the one he wanted to ask would never be sufficient.

“I think picking a name of someone important to you is suitable as well. As a tribute of sorts,” Havhen tried again despite the futility.

Moth’ir’s eyes stared upward as he considered various people whom he’d had some attachment to. It was an ordeal when one specifically kept people at arms length with few exceptions. “Can’t just name her Menphina, can I?”

“I mean,” Havhen shrugged and said flippantly “,your fellow Eorzeans might find that blasphemous but it’s your daughter.” They received a gentle elbow to the ribs for their trouble.

“Moth.”

“After your mother?” Havhen asked.

Moth’ir eyed him warily. Karga clan was very distinctly something that was his and his alone. It was never far from his mind that Havhen had only ever had their gods forsaken clan. He did not know what they saw when they thought of him and his siblings and his mother together. They all had meant the world and more to him and he misliked the idea of someone belittling that.

Havhen continued to smile at him warmly as he tried to assure him “,I think it’s a lovely name. And, from what your brother has told me, a woman deserving of such dedication.”

Moth’ir only knew that Moth’wo had trusted Havhen with the health of his brother. He’d not had a clue said brother and they were related by blood. How close the two actually were was a mystery to him. He hadn’t even ventured to ask so he had no choice but to accept the comment at face value. Or at least he had no energy to grill them about it.

Eased somewhat he turned his attention inward. He reiterated the name Moth in a whisper. More for himself than Havhen’s benefit. Making it real. Making her real. He closed his eyes and used it as a point to center himself.

Havhen ventured to tap his shoulder to grab his attention before holding their arm out, hopefully offering a hug. Moth’ir regarded them irritably but leaned his shoulder against theirs and allowed himself to be pulled closer. Havhen lightly pressed his head against Moth’ir’s and so they sat. Silent while idly listening to the other three while their minds were elsewhere. For their part, Havhen was busy committing the moment to memory. A small victory for them that may mean nothing but a memento of their brother when he left them for good but that in itself would be enough.

“Hey, you think she can eat some of this meat?” The Burn’s voice asked from beyond the partition.

Moth’ir snapped to, breaking Havhen’s precious moment. On his feet and away in a second. “You feed that baby anything and I swear I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

Havhen let themself linger for a moment. Wrapped their arms around their knees and listening to the new argument. Havhen had been walking with Moth’ir’s ghost for over a decade. They’d been convinced of his death by their mother and it haunted them. But then he’d returned alive; so very much alive. That life had been a messy and painful one. Whether he cared to know or not, Havhen’s had been much the same. The mystery of what laid before them could very much be more of the same but that wasn’t the important part. That they were alive is what gave those lives meaning. Nothing more, nothing less. Which is why they allowed themselves a moment to linger and not a moment more.

A life must be lived.

And there was a hot pot they needed to get to before it was gone.

#My Writing #heirsofdiscord #Final Fantasy XIV #Moth'ir Karga (FF)#Thancred is technically here but also is he?

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insane-control-room · 3 years

Text

migraine

Am I the only one I know waging a war behind their face and above their throat?

Written with @randomwriteronline

warnings: migraine, depression, suicidal feelings

ao3 version here

Thunder in his head. Lightning in his eyes, flashing and pulsing, black seeping and rising and falling, like tidal waves crashing onto his thoughts, shoulders hunching like a beast unable to escape an unseen assailant. It felt as though someone had shot an electrified crossbow bolt straight into the base of his skull, tearing past skin and bone and shocking his very brain. It caused painful shivers across his limbs and tightened around his ribs, constricting his breathing and making his heartbeat viscerally loud in his mind, feeling each and every pulsation roar in his ears and neck like unresting waves shaken by an oceanic earthquake. A bubble seemed to form around the sides of his head, frothing outwards from his very cochlea and stiff jaw. His forehead felt like someone had placed a boa constrictor around the perimeter of his skull and allowed it to squeeze until he would scream.

Joey had a migraine.

The bright glow shining directly into his sore eyes from the light table beneath his work did not help. In fact, one might say it was making it all the worse!

His head hurt, his legs ached, and his arms were stiff and unwilling to follow his requests.

An indiscernible mumble growled around him and slipped into his ears before expanding across his entire brain, emanating outwards through his spinal column, a full body tension unleashing like a rubberband suddenly yanked by two fingers and thus pushed to its absolute limit.

Thank goodness it was Friday, because Joey was going to snap soon if that grew much further.

His hand had let go of his pen, and he was hardly aware of its nails driving in repeatedly between his radius and ulna. Another rumble like a plane taking off right beside him, rattling him to his very atomic being, each quark screaming in protest, making everything even worse, despite how insane that seemed to be. He could hardly breathe. However, with Friday came the dread of Sunday-- the day he would be completely alone. Henry would be away at the clinic. The children would go out to extracurricular activities. No one would be in the building except for himself, his bees buzzing outside his window, and his demons.

He was not ready for that. He had never been ready for that, and would usually hide away on his computer to ignore that short walk up to the roof, not eat for fear of entering the kitchen and finding an object which would be used not by himself, not drink to avoid the easy escape of pills and the winding thoughts that brought him far, far, far away from sanity and drowned him within the liquid. And then, when his family would come home, he would lie about it by not saying anything at all.

Sometimes, when it would be dark outside and the air soothing him with storms and snow, he would think about telling Henry, writing it down and silently handing it to him so that he could read the truth himself, devoid of any more omissions, but he always stuffed those letters away into the vault, sealing them forever.

“Are you even listening to me?!”

Joey once again wished he was not ever there to hear those words, wishing himself to be blotted out of existence another time, if only for a single neverending moment. He found himself gaping wordlessly at the air, a fish desperate for water, suspended before Abby without any excuse for himself, unsure what the matter was that she would be so testy.

“Can I h-help you?” he asked, demure.

“I asked you that,” Abby stated, hands on her hips. “I asked if you were okay, and you didn’t answer. Multiple times. Could you tell me what’s the matter, Mr. Drew? Or is there none? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just have been preoccupied with my depress…” Joey trailed on, trying to hide the panic in his eyes. His head hurt too much to filter, and his tongue had already slipped. “...ing thoughts.”

“We have a deadline for this episode, Mr. Drew,” she said, shrugging off his comment, “and we haven’t even gotten a storyline for it yet! Do you have writer’s block or something of the sort?”

His head shook almost bonelessly, carefully so as to not rattle his thoughts. Time seemed to be going so slowly, how long had he been sitting there working on that single frame? When was the last time that he had slept? Was he thinking or was he just moving along a sleepwalking path like a beast made of sludge and string? He blinked a few times and saw the drawings double as the rumble in his ears increased deafeningly.

“You don’t look so good.”

“I’m not as fine as I s-seem,” Joey said with a bright smile. He rose suddenly, the motion revolting to his body, and he nodded to her, still smiling, and he began walking out. “Pardon.”

He was outside, trying to use fresh air as a weapon against the pain. The roses were still just sticks, not yet able to blossom with greenery. His head was under his arms, and his ears twitched as they picked up the slightest change in notes that indicated an approach of someone, someone small.

Bendy crawled into his lap.

“See all those rose bushes, baby?” Joey whispered, holding him gently with his horned head pressed to his trapped chest. “That’s kinda how my head is right now.”

‘Ready to grow?’ Bendy asked, tilting his head. Joey smiled slightly, and corrected, “That’s a bit different then what I meant. I mean… don’t they l-look burnt?”

‘A little bit,’ Bendy answered, looking around. ‘But not really. No burns.’

“Mmm.”

The parent and child were quiet.

‘Do not forget this, Bendy,’ Joey silently remarked after a while, the sun moving by degrees across the sky so slightly it appeared to not go at all. ‘When I paint, I do not think, but I know what I do. I think behind my mind. Sometimes I draw things that are… disturbing, you know?’

‘Sometimes, but I think everyone does,’ Bendy replied. Joey wondered just where he could have gotten such a brilliant, compassionate and empathetic child from, what did he do to deserve him? ‘I think that drawings and writing are a peek into the door of a person's mind that shows things they usually would not share.’

‘Right you are.’ Joey sighed in amazement. He loved his little darling devil, even through the burning cloud of pain that stormed and shrieked like a thousand banshees in his head. ‘And some of those minds are like Pandora's box. Or worse. Even if you are curious, you should not open them. Ever.’

‘I do not think your mind is like that,’ Bendy remarked. Johan tried not to tremble.

“There’s flecks of… not good things.”

‘Still not bad.’

‘It’s a wreck, Benderoo.’

‘Not bad.’

“Oh, Bendy.”

Joey hugged him, closing his eyes.

“It’s v-violent in there, my dear.” he murmured. “I might be afraid of the o-ocean, but that surrounds the small spaces that I can stand upon. My thoughts are… are like tidal waves, Bendy. Ebb, flow.”

‘But that is how the world goes. We need the tides.’

“But sometimes the tide might try to swallow you. It might lunge for you, l-like a famished lion I must f-fight.” Johan shivered, not with the thought of a beast devouring him, but the mere idea of the sea. “Blood upon the maw and bones within it.”

Bendy played with his father's hand, the thin palm much larger than his own soft plasmic ink one, releasing it to respond.

‘You are good, Papi.’

“I truly hope so.”

‘You are, Papi.’ the little toon insisted. ‘I know you are. You are my Papi, which must be good, and you always do the right thing.’

Johan smiled wryly: “You are too kind with me, Bendibop. I don't deserve that.”

‘Of course you do, Papi.’

Johan caressed his child's little horns through those tufts of keratin so much like his own.

“You really think I can be deserving of that?” he asked softly. “Even as I am a weapon?”

‘You are doing what you can. Sometimes you need to fight.’ Bendy smiled, hugging him sideways. Thin dark arms wrapped around the little inky body and Johan tucked him a little closer to himself. His smile sweetened a bit. ‘You are not alone. You have us, and the studio. Your family.’

“I guess you’re right, d-darling,” he murmured, laying a kiss on his child's head. “I got used to bein’ alone a long time ago, I suppose it’s h-hard to remember that I’m not anymore.”

‘Maybe we should have a day off,’ Bendy suggested. ‘With everyone. And have a picnic. Take a picture of it to hold it forever.’

‘For what?’

‘To remind you that we have got hope and each other,’ Bendy answered innocuously.

Joey smiled.

“We’ve made it pretty far, kid.”

#joey drew #johan ramirez #toon bendy #bendy #bendy the dancing demon #batim #bendy and the ink machine #migraine #twenty one pilots #21 piløts #depression #suicidal feelings #hope #happy ending #hopeful ending #parent child relationship #super sweet #whumptober2020 #collab

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