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littlexdancersblog · 1 year

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I am deep and I don't want to let you go

Summary: What if they couldn't bring Rhys back? What if Feyre suddenly found herself high lady of the Night Court without her mate by her side?

Word count: 2k

Note: Title taken from De Diepte by s10 (English translation)

Because his own chest... it was not moving.

~~~~~~~~

The mating bond. It wasn't there. It was gone.

And Rhys was dead...

"BRING HIM BACK."

"For what he gave," Tarquin said quietly. "Today and for many years before."

It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working?

"I'm sorry Feyre. He's gone."

He's gone. He's gone. He's gone...

--------

Feyre had forgotten what it was like to not have the bond. To not have Rhys.

It had been a constant, always there, always reassuring her.

And now- it was just empty.

A soulless void. Even when she tried to sleep, she could feel it.

Feyre missed Rhys. Missed him so terribly that it hurt.

And she missed his voice in her head, that goddamn smirk, everything about him.

Even after a month, she was unsure if she could survive this. If she wanted to. Maybe she would just-

A knock sounded on her door, pulling her out of the spiralling dark thoughts.

She wished they could go away.

Wished they could just leave her the fuck alone.

Slowly, the door opened and Azriel walked in. He held a vacant look, mirroring her own. He paused at the doorway, rubbing a hand over his chest.

His attention was on her, taking in her awful state. She couldn't remember when she had last eaten, and there had been countless nights of throwing up. Her hair was a mess, clothes weeks old.

"Come on Feyre, you need to get up."

A rush of anger built up, the first emotion she had felt in days. "I don't know if you've forgotten, but Rhys is dead. My mate - your high lord is dead. Forgive me if I don't feel up to doing anything," Feyre snarled.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she didn't feel relief. No, she just felt guilt. Especially as she witnessed the moment the words hit Azriel, his eyes darting away to stare at the wall, tension lining his shoulders.

"Shit, Azriel. I-"

Another figure appeared but this time it was Mor, she looked as wrecked as she was but a fury lined her face. "No. You're not doing this. It's been too long of this spiral. We lost Rhys, we can't lose you too. Now get up, and eat something."

Feyre was in half a mind to resist, to maybe snap again but the look with which Mor pinned on her forced her to move. As they moved towards the kitchen, Feyre averted her gaze from the sad and pitiful looks.

She forced herself to take a deep breath as she sat and a moment later a bowl of soup was placed in front of her. Under her friends watchful gazes, she obediently ate. But as she did, she felt a wave of nausea roll over again.

It had been worse the last couple of weeks, every morning without fail. And just when she thought she was moving towards some kind of... normalcy.

Conversation shifted around her and she half listened to one, "One of my friends, she found out she's pregnant."

Pregnant.

Feyre paused, the world ringing her head. No, no. Surely not, I mean they had intended to wait but...

"Feyre. Are you okay? You've gone a bit pale?"

She looked up, unable to fully meet Mor's eyes. "I need to talk to Madja."

Mor fetched her, to which she spoke in private with the healer. Cassian, Amren and her sisters had made an appearance, hearing them outside the door but she put a shield to stop them from listening in on her conversation.

She was quiet as Madja worked, then she glanced up at Feyre, offering a flash of a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.

No.

A moment later, Feyre was bursting through the door, feeling like the walls were getting smaller, crushing her.

Her breathing was heavy, tears streaming down her face as she aimed for her bedroom. But it was like her legs gave out as she collapsed against the wall, tugging her knees to her chest and sobbing into them.

There was quiet footsteps and then a soft hand was on her arm. It was Elain, her face calm, watching her closely.

"Breathe, Feyre. Deep breaths."

She showed her and Feyre copied until she could finally draw air into her lungs. The others were gathered, heads half titled and Cassian was rubbing his neck almost nervously.

"I'm pregnant." She whispered, speaking the words somehow made it more finale.

Sharp intake of breaths, as Mor practically stumbled back, rapidly blinking as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"Did Rhys-"

Feyre shook her head before the question could be finished. "No. We were going to wait. I didn't expect this to happen."

Silence settled upon the room as her own mind whirled. This should have been such a happy moment but not without Rhys here, he should have seen his child. Absently, her mind drifted to her stomach as the rising panic began to set in again.

It was Azriel who noticed her spiralling as he crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his scarred ones. Next to her, Elain was the first to speak.

"I know you wish Rhys was here, that you could share this moment together but he's not. And now, you have to fight for your child Feyre. You have to look after yourself. This child is both of you, he or she will always be."

She was right.

The grief would likely never stop, but maybe she could learn to live with it. Maybe their son could be the one to save her.

As she thought the words, it actually sunk in. She was pregnant, and now she would always have a part of Rhys. Even if he wasn't here.

It was like the haze, the void in her soul had cleared. "You're right. But I can't do this alone."

Cassian spoke first, voice thick with emotion, "We're your family Feyre. You'll never be alone."

Feyre could do this. For Rhys, for their child, she had to do this.

---------

Five months later

Every day was a little bit easier.

Once she wrapped her head around everything, had a good cry in Mor's arms, she forced herself to live. Starting with taking over the Night Court.

It had been hard, with a lot of resistance of the idea of a women leading a court. She hated that the fact she was having a son swayed them to accept her as High Lady.

Upon taking the role, she realised she had no real idea about ruling the Night Court so she buried herself in books, learning all that she could. Meeting with some of the other high lords to learn what they knew. They had been happy to help her and Feyre found she enjoyed the politics.

Maybe Rhys had subtly influenced that.

It was a winters night and Feyre was sat reading more politics books when Azriel appeared at the house, a tight look on his face. He paused when he saw her though, face softening just a bit.

"Feyre. I didn't expect you to be awake."

She smiled, setting down her book and rubbing a hand over her stomach. "Yes, this little one is causing a riot. I couldn't sleep."

At that, a real smile spread across his face, small as it was. "Come Azriel, sit. I want to talk to you."

A frown tugged on his lips but Azriel didn't dispute as he took a seat across from her. Feyre went to speak when he asked, "Have you thought of a name yet?"

Feyre rolled her eyes, laughing softly to herself. Good try at deflection. "I have. And I am thinking Nyx. To mean night. Now, I know what you're trying to do and it won't work."

Azriel sighed, leaning back in his seat. But there was too much tension in his body, his hand flexing against his leg. "I assume you didn't have a good conversation with Eris?"

His blink was his only sign of confusion before fear flooded his features. "Eris? Feyre, I don't know what you mean..."

She cut him off with a bored stare. "Azriel. You know how I catch onto things fast, I know. You don't need to lie to me. Nor fear what I may think. It's okay."

He sat up straighter now, still tense as if preparing for a fight. She imagined a lot of different questions but he seemed to settle on, 'How?"

A small smile at that question, remembering the day she figured it out. The surprise. "The high lords meeting. I noticed the small, fleeting looks. And that outburst, it wasn't just because of what he said about Mor, was it?"

Azriel barked a laugh, disbelief in his eyes. "You're right."

She tilted her head slightly, smiling softly. "Tell me what happened."

He sighed, shifting in his seat. "I don't know how it happened. I hated him. One day, I was with him on business and it just happened. We had it out, about Mor. And I learned what really happened with Mor, that he did it to help her. We kept it a secret. Certain things happened before the high lords meeting, which was why I snapped. Then Rhys died and I went there so often, and he helped me through my own pain. Helping me to talk to Mor, we did and promised to help each other. And then we resolved to help you, that we needed to come together as a family."

Feyre was glad he had Eris when she couldn't be there. "And today?"

Azriel half smiled. "Coincidently, it was about you. And the others. Telling you about us, I was nervous about how you'd react. Seems I had nothing to fear."

"Azriel, you know I won't judge. Are you and Eris mates?"

He laughed again, shaking his head. "Lord no, not everyone has mates Feyre. I- I love him for him. No bond forced us together and I am glad of that fact."

She understood. Bonds could work out well, like her and Rhys but sometimes they didn't. And sometimes the bond could force people together when they did not necessarily want to be together.

"Is that all?" Azriel asked, half beginning to stand up.

Feyre shook her head, leaning forward and her face becoming serious. "No. Do you trust Eris? Specifically to become high lord of Autumn?"

"Why?"

"Because I've spent a lot of time thinking. We need a better world than what it currently is. And my situation proves of that. But with the changes I need to make, I can't do it with Beron in the way. So I need him gone. I already have a plan but I need to speak to Eris and his mother. I'm hoping you can get that meeting for me. Under discreet circumstances."

Azriel looked taken aback but once her words settled, he nodded. "I can. How soon?"

"As soon as possible."

A week later Feyre was sat in her office, looking over some information when a knock sounded on her door. "Come in!"

Azriel stepped into her room and she sat up in her seat. "My High Lady, I have some troubling news. There was an assassination attempt on Eris and Beron's life. Poison." He paused as Feyre gasped,

"Are they okay? How did this even happen?"

"We are not sure, they are still looking into it. Eris is safe, they were able to provide him with an antidote. Beron, however, passed away this morning. They were too late. Eris Vanserra is now High Lord of Autumn."

Feyre smiled, well aware any potential ears would not see. Only listen of her first hearing the news of Beron's death.

As for who did it, no one would know. No one would suspect. Not when Eris' mother had been on a walk with her son, witnessing his collapse. And as for Feyre and Azriel, she had a very important pregnancy check-up.

She needed Azriel there for moral support.

Azriel returned her smile with a smirk, equally as pleased. "Thank you for telling me Azriel. Now leave me, I must write a letter to the lords and to Eris."

He left her alone, closing the door with a soft click.

Now that he was gone, it was finally time to bring about a world she had fought for. As well as Rhys.

She vowed to make his sacrifice worthwhile.

-------

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this, feel free to find the work on ao3 under the same title but under the username EndureAndSurvive6 :)

#feyre archeron #rhysand #inner circle #acotar #fanfic #ao3fic #azris being my favourite crackship #sorry rhys but you had to go

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marauderundercover · 3 years

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Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Hello! For the continued part of the blurb in which Harry and YN get casted together; this is the reminder :))

Also here’s a thought about it:

Maybe since like Harry met Olivia on DWD, when Tangled started they're like broken up and so so to make it more realistic (It was more of a suggestion but just do you, your readers would love it either way) :))

Have a great day!!!

yes we will definitely continue this!! okay let’s go;

First day nerves were always the worst.

Whether it was first day of school, first day of a new job, first day at university or, in your case, first day on set, you always got a really bad case of the nervous butterflies. It was just unnerving having to meet new people and try and fit into the way everything worked around here. You were a very social person when you came out of your shell, but you could be a hard one to crack if you weren’t with the right people. Luckily for you this set definitely had the right people. After briefly meeting him on the red carpet for Don’t Worry Darling and then having him text you afterwards, you have to say that now working with Harry Styles seemed like a dream. His music and his charisma shaped him into someone you really liked and really wanted to know more about. He was your all time crush and unfortunately, for you, he’d probably gathered that by now - what with your blushing interview over him.

The weather was beautiful and the buzz on set was amazing. Everyone was rushing around and trying to busy themselves until filming started at 8am. You had just been in hair and makeup and were on your way to set now. The movie wasn’t being filmed in its’ complete order, so the first scene that you were filming was where Flynn climbs up the tower and meets Rapunzel for the first time. Where Harry meets you.

You couldn’t quite believe you were actually here. You were a Disney princess, and your favourite one at that. The purple dress was everything you’d imagined and you felt like a dreamy cloud in it. Your flip flops and robe covered most of your outfit though, to keep you warm until you were needed on set. Instead of going straight inside the filming building, you sat outside on a nearby bench hoping to calm your nerves.

To keep your mind preoccupied you went over and over your lines in your head, cursing yourself when you messed up over something so small. Your fingers picked away at each other, damaging the nail-art that had only recently been put on.

“You’re going to cost the makeup department a fortune if you keep doing that.” You didn’t need to look up to know that it was Harry who was approaching you, but you did anyways. He looked beautiful. His hair was styled the same way as Flynn Ryders and you could see the outlines of his costume underneath the coat he was wearing.

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed nervously, putting your head back down to stop him from catching your blush.

“Hey no need for apologises. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He spoke honestly and you felt the warmth of his words spread over your body, like butter on toast.

“Just really nervous.” You admitted shyly.

“Can I…” He pointed towards the bench space next to you.

“‘Course, yes.” You patted the space encouragingly and watched him pull the trousers up from his thighs to sit more comfortably. God, those thighs. You cleared your throat to detach the dirty thoughts from the back of your mind.

It was quiet until he spoke again. “What’s your favourite Disney movie?”

“What?” You asked confused and Harry repeated the question as calmly as he did last time. You expected him to start giving you words of advice, not asking you your favourite Disney movie. “Oh, um, Tangled of course.”

“You know you don’t just have to say that because you’re the lead actress in the movie.” He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh as you swayed away and then back to him.

“Yeah I know.”

“Pity.”

“Why?”

“Just would’ve taken you for more of an avid Lion King fan.” He joked, his dimpled smile boasting its’ way onto his cheeky face.

“I am, actually. I just, there’s something about Rapunzel that draws me to her. I don’t know whether it’s her childhood was similar to mine—”

“Wait you were abducted by a weirdly attractive evil woman who claims to be your— wait! So you’re a princess?” Before you can answer he knelt down before you, capturing your hands in his - neither of your missing the tingles of passion when your skin touched skin - and holding them tightly, whilst he began speaking again, “M’lady, forgive me for being so simple.”

“Harry! What are you doing, y’fool?” You laughed at him, trying to get him to sit back next to you as you’d drawn the attention from a few crew members.

“I’m grovelling at the feet of my future Queen.” He said so matter-of-factly you almost, nearly, truly believed him. Chuffing actor.

“Get up you oaf!” And he did with a little more persuasion. “What I meant was that my childhood was quite isolated and lonely - I didn’t have many friends at all.” You spoke from the heart, not expecting Harry’s eyebrows to furrow with confusion or for him to look so sad.

“I’m sorry.” You knew he meant it.

“At least I have Flo, though, now.” You smiled at the thought of your amazing best friend, whom also happened to be Harry’s most recent co-star. Their performances in Don’t Worry Darling were second to none and you were so proud of Flo for delivering such an awe inspiring delivery to her character Alice.

“And me. Don’t forget me.”

“I could never.” You turned to look at him, unprepared to find him staring back at you with hearts in his eyes. You blushed and had to look away, but you rested the side of your head on his shoulder out of natural instinct. It felt right and it felt comforting. “Thank you, though Harry.”

“Always.” He rested his head back against yours, both of you just watching the busy people prepare for your first scene. The nerves had gone though, now, and you were feeling more at peace with yourself - and with him. “Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I think that you’re drawn to Rapunzel, because she embodies your courage, kindness, beauty and compassion.” Your heart swelled at his words. You never thought someone could think of you this way, let alone Harry. You pushed your head tighter against his shoulder, wanting him to wordlessly know that you were really grateful for him.

“Smooth, Harry!” He laughed with you, “How long have you been rehearsing that?”

“Too many other lines to remember to be learning them ones too. That, Y/N, was all ad-lib.” And your heart swooned a little more again. He was just so perfect and he made you feel safe. There wasn’t a good enough phrase or word in the English dictionary to justify how good of a person he was or how much he meant to you.

“You’re too good.”

“Too good to maybe ask you out for a drink after today?” You brought your head away from his shoulder in shock from what he just asked. Harry, the Harry Styles, was asking you, Y/N L/N, out for a drink. What?

“No, I think i’ll let you take me out for a drink.” You smiled at him, admiration sitting heavily in your eyes that there was no way he could miss it.

“Yeah?” His eyes glinted back at yours.

“Only if you stop with the compliments, i’m so bad for accepting them.”

“Hmm, no can do.” You rolled your eyes and reached over to take his hand in yours and he instantly linked his fingers with yours. It felt right. Warm. Safe.

“Fine, but don’t be alarmed if I just jump you for being too nice to me or something.” Your words came out faster than your brain could process and your eyes widened once you realised what you’d just said to him. You’d just threatened to jump Harry Styles. Fuck sake. And now he wad laughing, at you or with you you didn’t know.

“Alright, but you don’t be alarmed if I do nothing to stop you.”

Now you understood why he didn’t need to ask what was wrong or if you were okay, his presence was comforting enough to make your nerves dissipate and focus on the only thing that now mattered; him.

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

first kisses / scarlet ribbons.

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

> Concept; Situations from the different “universe” possibilities in Scarlet Ribbons, where SR Reader ends up with a respective partner. All world building/Pre-VA events are identical in each universe, until they split off into romantic pursuits Post-VA.

>Bruno Bucciarati;

It’s been a strange vacation. You’d like to think that you’re patient, but this is testing the limits of what you can handle. To think that Bruno finds this an enjoyable hobby is difficult to understand.

"I don’t think I can do this, Bruno...”

Your hands are shaky around the fishing rod’s handle, making the task at hand all the more difficult. He places his hand atop yours in hopes of reassuring you. The sight before you is stunning, clear ocean water as far as the eye can see, accompanied by a breeze that tickles your face. It smells of saltwater and Bruno’s musky cologne. He’s envelopes you from behind, whispering words of encouragement, warm breath fanning against your earlobe.

“You’re doing just fine,” he hums, clearly amused with your predicament. You pout, uncaring that he can’t see, thinking of how to best get revenge on your Capo later. When he mentioned a getaway weekend to the beach, this wasn’t what you were expecting. “You’ve made it through situations more strenuous than this one, cara. Steady yourself.”

You grumble out a low string of words. He’s impossible to stay upset with. Time passes by, no fish biting the bait in the water. Finally, you feel the unmistakable tug, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Summoning all your strength, you hoist the fishing rod over your shoulder. Your catch hangs from the hook, a sign of victory, and a reward for your patience.

Pivoting on your heel, you beam up at Bruno who returns your enthusiasm. “I did it, I did it!”

“What did I tell you?” He chuckles as you celebrate, jumping up and down on the pier. Everything hits at once. The thought of how his father would’ve loved you as much as he does, how the sunset complements your glowing complexion, of how long he’s wanted to be intimate with you like this. Softening his gaze, his hands cup either side of your face. Anything up until this moment is forgotten, Bruno looking deep into your eyes.

He closes the distance, head tilting to the side. He tastes of finely aged wine, kissing you with every ounce of emotion that’s been repressed for so long. You return the sentiments with equal fervor, the two of you breathing in sync as your lips mesh together. It’s you who pulls back first, lips tingling from the sensation of Bruno’s passion. He has successfully taken your breath away, a factor he’ll undoubtedly tease you about later. Not that you can be upset with him. If there’s anything Bruno is good at, it’s winning you over.

He chuckles as you rush to catch your breath, fixing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

>Giorno Giovanna;

Hand in hand, you stroll down the streets of Naples by your lover’s side. It’s been an evening long in the making. Giorno is busy as he is diligent, another reason you’re grateful that he had a lull in his schedule to spend the day with you. Your day has overwhelmed your heart with joy since its conception, the two of you partaking in a variety of activities. All of which pales in comparison to spending time with the one you love. Quality time with Giorno is meant to be treasured, and you intend on doing just that.

He comes to a sudden pause, earning your attention. You follow his example, standing in place until he explains what he’s up to. The night sky hangs overhead, not a single cloud in sight. Moonlight shines against his face, eyebrows furrowing and full lips parting. Giorno takes the time to prepare his words, hoping to still his rapidly beating heart. You blink, recognizing his thoughtful countenance, wondering what he intends to do next.

He takes a deep breath. “[First]... I wanted to thank you. For lending me your strength.”

The statement feels out of the blue, sincerity interlaced with every word. You tilt your head. Where is this heading? Giorno wills himself to continue, momentarily distracted by your cute expression. With the hand that holds yours, he brings it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss against it. Warmth floods your face at the intimate gesture. It’s hard not to recall how you did the same thing to him long ago, when Giorno first took his role as Don of Passione. For someone this important to be doing that for you, it’s dizzying.

Giorno looks up at your flustered self through thick eyelashes, drinking in the sight.

“Y-you don’t need to thank me for anything.” You stutter out, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. If anything, you’re immensely grateful to him, for giving you the possibility at a different life. Had it not been for Giorno, crippling debt would still have a stronghold on your life. He shakes his head in disagreement.

“I don’t get to express my gratitude for you often,” he releases your hand, going to cup your face. The pad of his thumb rubs circles lovingly into your cheeks. “So please let me do so now.”

His words are so quiet, meant only for you to hear. You know how vulnerable he’s allowing himself to be with you. Love swells in your heart, and you meet him halfway to reciprocate the kiss he initiates. Your eyes flutter shut, arms wrapping around his neck; and his hands settle on your waist. There’s so much work to be done to secure the future he wants. A future with you in it. But for now, his mind thinks of none of the sort, too taken with your existence to entertain the thought of anything else.

>Guido Mista;

“You should feel all better now, right?”

Number Five’s sniffles settle down when you pull back, face morphing into a teary eye smile. This has become a tradition of sorts. When the other Pistols take to bullying Number Five, you make sure to pepper him in tiny smooches. Finally content after receiving his share of affection, Number Five returns to his spot of sitting on your shoulder. You’re about to return to looking at your phone when you hear someone clearing their throat.

Mista is stealing glances, his hat having been removed at your behest. Loose, brown curls frame his face, which has an uncharacteristic frown on it. “So, [First]...”

“So, Mista?” You repeat back to him, raising an eyebrow. His arm is behind you on the couch, fingers curling up and warm eyes avoiding yours. His sudden shift in mood strikes you as odd. Mista is the confident, boisterous type. Fluctuating from winking at you, to sharing god awful pickup lines from his favorite movies, and even trying to hit on you in your native tongue. So this apprehension is jarring.

He lets out a laugh, a nervous tick you’ve picked up on. “I was just thinking, babe. About how we haven’t... well, y’know...”

Mista is talking with his hands, trying to communicate what’s on his mind. You have a slight idea at what he’s hinting at. Instead of playing along with him, you decide to tease him as revenge for all the times he’s embarrassed you.

“That we haven’t slept together yet? Is that it? Hm, it’s pretty bold of you to try and come out and try to say that...”

You can’t hold back your grin at how his eyes widen, tan face accented with a bright blush. He’s sputtering out words in a last ditch attempt to salvage his tattered pride. When he sees you breaking out into laughter, and realizes you’re just messing with him, he fully intends to return the favor. Your wrists are grabbed ahold of, Mista pushing you down against the couch. Even as he hovers above you with what’s supposed to be a threatening look, your laughter only grows louder.

What should he do with you...? There’s always the option of tickling you until you’re begging for forgiveness. Or, he could just get what he originally wanted, by making your first kiss his. Opting on the latter, he brings his face down to meet yours. The kiss is everyone you wanted. A bit sloppy, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, and chest heaving with excitement. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he lets out a noise of surprise when you draw him in closer.

>Narancia Ghirgha;

“So, what does this lyric mean?”

This has become a familiar game between you and Narancia. He tends to enjoy English music more than anything else, and jumps at the opportunity to listen to it with you. Today, you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on your bed, sharing headphones. It’s a hot day out, your fan trying its best to stave off the summer heat. It’s always the little moments like this with Narancia that you treasure the most.

He waited until the song was finished to pose his question. You place a finger to your cheek, attempting to translate the notable lyrics in your mind before you explain them. You’re surprised that he’s expressing an interest in this particular song — Nights in White Satin — since it isn’t his normal taste. You were hoping to expose him to some other genres. The lyrics of the chorus are the simplest to bring over into Italian, so you start off with that.

His face goes red as a cherry as you repeat “I love you”, for every time the chorus would. Narancia stares at you, jaw agape, and it takes a moment for you to realize why he’s acting this way. Despite your close relationship, and evident feelings, neither of you have spoken those intimate words to one another before now. Feeling suddenly self conscious, you go to reaffirm that you were just translating the lyrics as he asked.

“I was just—“

“I, uh, I l-love you too, [First]!” He exclaims at a loud volume, interrupting you.

You stare at him. He stares at you. Ah. It looks like you weren’t fast enough to explain the situation. You’re uncertain of who is most embarrassed at this rate. Neither of you speak a word, Narancia experiencing this situation through an entirely different viewpoint. Well, it’s not like you’d be lying if you had said those words with different intent. Still, such a heartfelt confession should be saved for a more fitting environment. Not when you’re wearing booty shorts and a tank top, fighting off sweat from Naple’s oppressive summer.

Narancia seems to be processing things on his own, shuffling to move even closer to you. He’s thinking that, after such a confession, now is the best time to make a move. His face is in front of yours before you know it, a shaky hand being pressed against the side of your face. He squeezes his eyes shut, puckering his lips, and leans in for the kiss. You’re in disbelief over how all of this is going down. It’ll be a story for the ages, you think.

Reaffirming his actions, you return his kiss with a smile, fighting off a laugh. Narancia’s body stiffens when your lips make contact, uncertain if he should hold back or go all in like he desperately wants to. The anxiety swelling up inside him wins out in the end. He pulls back, chest heaving, even though the kiss was very brief. He decides that you taste good, sweet as your personality.

“Nara, amore mio,” you smile, giggles sneaking past your lips. “Those were just the lyrics to the song. So I’ll say it for real this time. I love you.”

He was... so enamored by you saying it the first time, but now everything makes sense. It hits him like a ton of bricks. Narancia wants nothing more than to sink into the earth, but settles for shoving his face into your pillow and screaming. This has got to be the most humiliating moment of his life. You find it endearing, reassuring him that this is a fitting first kiss from him.

That doesn’t make him feel better.

>Pannacotta Fugo;

“So, to repeat my previous point, you will need to find the value of x by using this process...”

Fugo, blessed be his soul, has appointed himself as your math tutor. While you’re immensely grateful for his efforts, it’s currently one in the morning. You’re fighting the urge to doze off, his velvety voice not making it any easier on you. The topic at hand has long since been forgotten, you think it may have had something to do with algebra. You watch him through lidded eyes, adoration bubbling up from within. He looks so serious, it’s precious. Every time he goes into a new explanation, you can tell that this is a subject he loves to talk about. You could listen to him speak for hours. Though it’d be preferable if it weren’t about math...

“[First]. You’re not listening, are you?” He inquires with a frustrated sigh, poking your cheek. At the interruption of your daydreaming, you lift your head up, straightening your posture. In a meager attempt to prove you were paying attention, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“W-what was that? Sorry, I didn’t catch the last part, something about capybaras right...”

Fugo squints at you, lips pursing. He takes in a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. You’re lucky that he loves you. Anyone else would’ve had a fork or some other sharp object shoved into them by now. He fights off any bitter feelings, looking down and catching the time. The excitement of teaching you got the better of him, he didn’t even realize that it had gotten this late, no wonder you’re falling asleep.

He closes your college textbook, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough for tonight. You need to get to bed. Now.”

You mistake his concern for your well being as anger for not paying attention. Fugo always has a difficult time getting the full extent of his feelings across, and he normally doesn’t have any motivation to try. You’re a different story. A reason to better himself, so that he might feel deserving of your love. Fugo’s eyes soften at your crestfallen form, scooting his chair next to yours.

“Hey,” he speaks up in a whisper, tipping his head down to look you in the eye. “You did good today, I’m proud. We’ll continue tomorrow, but you should rest now.”

“Mm, alright. But first, you need to do me a favor,” you respond through a tired haze. In this sleep deprived state, you’re acting on impulse, your eyes fixated on Fugo’s lips. There’s a single goal at this point. “I want... I want kisses.”

He’s never seen you this bold before. How tired are you...? He’ll need to ask Bucciarati to reduce your hours after this. For now, he’s flooded with tingling warmth. Fugo has long awaited this day, a day where he could get his feelings for you across. A silent prayer is said that you’ll remember this in the morning. Fugo nods once, pressing a quick peck to your lips. Then to your nose, and your forehead after that. You’ve already fallen asleep, a content smile on your lips. What should he do with you?

Sighing, he picks you up, careful not to wake you. “You’re so much trouble, [First].”

And he loves you for it.

>Leone Abbacchio;

“For once, just let me show you that I’m serious!”

It hurts. The corner of your eyes are stinging, your throat raw from screaming. Abbacchio stares down at you, his own chest heaving from putting up a verbal fight. You’re insufferably persistent in seeking him out. He’ll give you one thing, when you don’t want to back down, you give it your all. Not that he understands it.

Why won’t you just leave me alone already? It’s for your own good. What you see in him is a mystery, that he isn’t willing to entertain any longer. He hurts people. He has hurt too numerous to count, and doesn’t want to add the person he loves to the ranks. Should you hate him, then so be it; maybe then it’ll be easier for him to move on. When you’re staring up at him with fire burning in your eyes, it makes it all the more difficult to hold his ground. He has to, he tells himself.

“Enough with this already. I’m done here.” He inhales sharply, wanting nothing more than to vanish from this convicting situation. A part of him knows that it’s wishful thinking, the part that knows you. And how stubborn you can be once there’s an idea in your mind. It’s what he both dreads and adores about you.

You rush to block his path of escape, borderline stomping on the way there. He’s taken aback by how bold you’re acting — you’re so certain of yourself. This is how you’ve always been. Abbacchio can’t help but feel jealous at this self-assured nature, how you know what needs to be done. Dammit, even when he’s trying to distance himself from you, his mind drifts elsewhere...

The two of you glare at one another, both parties refusing to back down. If Abbacchio is going to cower away from you, so be it; but not before he understands how much you care. That you’ve meant every word you said. That every action, the hand of compassion you’ve extended towards him, and the relationship built off of it means something to you. You hope it means the same amount to him.

Grabbing a hold of his collar, you jerk the fabric down towards you. He’s scowling, about to ask what the fuck you’re doing, when your faces are inches apart. He needs to move away. He needs to keep you at an arms length, like it’s supposed to be. Abbacchio knows this, and yet, he remains still as a statue.

In stark contrast to your rough actions, your lips meeting his is anything but. It’s driven by months of suppression. Time is at a standstill, neither of you knowing with confidence of what to do next. He doesn’t reciprocate or push you away, too absorbed with his self deprecating thoughts to act clearly. It’s only when you pull back, eyes glassy, that he comes to his senses.

Was your hunch wrong? Does he really not...?

Abbacchio’s body acts on his behalf. As he now leads the kiss, it’s far rougher, conveying all that he’s afraid to say. It’s imperfect, as all things are; but the start to a brighter future. You won him over in the end, as frustrating as it may be to admit. It’s a victory that he doesn’t mind.

>Trish Una;

“I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful.”

Is this what it’s like to see a goddess in the flesh? Trish stands before you, wearing a stunning outfit unlike anything you’ve ever seen; a black as night dress that hugs against her curves. She’s completely dolled up, ethereal. Wearing winged eyeliner, crimson lip stick, highlighter complementing her cheekbones and blush dusting across her face. It’s mixing in with how flustered you’re making her with that doting stare, Trish having a difficult time maintaining eye contact.

She looks down to her stilettos, the distraction offering an opportunity to think. You’re the first person to ever look at her like this. To offer your full heart and adoration, with no agendas hidden beneath the surface. No, there’s nothing but unabashed care in you directed towards her. Rivaled only by Trish’s love for you.

“D-don’t get all cheesy on me now,” she stutters out, willing herself to return your gaze. Your smile is contagious, and she finds herself returning it. You’re wearing a formal getup as well, and she admires every detail of your outfit. It was one that she picked out for you a week prior, and as predicted, it suits you perfectly. “You look... good. Amazing, I mean.”

Trish’s heart flutters at the laugh that leaves your lips. Every movement you make has this bewitching power over her, a spell that she doesn’t mind being under. If it’s for you, that is.

Tonight is an important one -- her first live performance in front of a crowd. You’re nothing if not proud. The two of you have come far, overcoming tribulations that most would crumble under. It feels right. Earned. After the hell you endured together, to experience a shot at something new. Your support for her is what’s made it all possible.

It won’t be long now until she’s called on stage. If anything, she should be in the greenroom by now, checking through the final touches for the performance. Knowing that you’ll be in the crowd, listening to her song is a motivator unlike any other. For now, though, all of that has been put to the side. It feels like the perfect time.

Heels click against the ground as she approaches, taking your hands in her own. Swinging them back and forth, she struggles to find the proper words. “Tonight... tonight was only possible because of you. I wanted to tell you that.”

“But you--”

A manicured finger is pressed against your lips, and she shushes you.

“Let me finish,” she smiles, content at how you nod, a blush forming on your face. “There’s one thing missing that you need to fix. Give me a kiss for good luck, or I won’t forgive you.”

You’ve never been happier to follow an order. Her lips are soft, feather light against your own. Some of her lipstick is bound to rub off -- not that either of you care -- and she wraps her arms around your neck. Knowing Trish, she’ll be upset should you mess up her hair. You settle on wrapping your arms around her waist, bringing her in closer. The taste of her lip primer is addicting, tasting faintly of bubblegum.

Trish doesn’t let you pull back for air, too intent on drinking you in for as long as she can.

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nolongerwrites · 4 years

Note

Hello! So i dont know if you write for him, but would you write a scenario for mori (chuuya if you dont write mori) where someone saw their s/o with another men hugging in town and tells him, but the boy is s/o cousin! Maybe nsfw, a little bit angst but please fluff in the ending? I'm sorry for my english! You ate awesome and u really like your writting, its beautiful!

Babe I write for everyone! And don’t apologize for your english your perfectly fine!

Funny story, a couple of years ago my older brothers ex girlfriend got mad at him for hanging around me. He ended up yelling at her saying we were brother/sister lmao she was so embarrassed 💕

“Maybe we should call the boss?” Tachihara questioned his comerades as they spyed on you from around the corner. You were the bosses wife of several years so naturally it would be questionable to see you with another man. The both of you were out and about in downtown Yokohama spending the afternoon together. The black lizard was supposed to be on a different mission until they spotted you some feet away.

“I mean, their not holding hands or anything so it should be okay right-? He continued. Both gin and tachihara exchanged looks before turning to hirotsu for answers. “Let’s just wait it out. She’s probably just out with a friend,” hirotsu said as he took a drag of his cigarette “I know the bosses wife, and she’s not one to go behind his back.” And so the rest of the afternoon, black lizard followed you and this stranger around.

At first they really did consider hirotsu’s point, then they saw you reach up and hug that man with the biggest smile on your face. They had never seen you act so comfortably around someone other than mori. All three of the members watched in shock as you released him and parted ways. “Can we call him now??” Tachihara said to hirotsu in a angry manner. He nodded before whipping out his phone.

They told mori about the little scene they had just whitenessed that afternoon all the way to the part to when they saw you two hug. “I see, thank you for letting me know. Capture the man and bring him here. I’ll deal with Y/N,” and with that he ended the call. You thought you could sneak around behind his back without him finding out? How foolish of you.

When you finally got home you didn’t expect to see your husband sitting on the sofa with his hands intertwined in front of his face. “Oh hello honey! I didn’t know you were coming home so early, I would have made dinner already-“

“Y/N would you mind coming with me?” He said as he got up and roughly grabbed you by your arm. You stumbled slightly as he yanked you through the front door and basically dragged you to the car. “Mori whats the matter?” You questioned before he quickly took off. His smile never leaving his face.

Many thoughts swam in your head as to what you could have done? Why was he so upset? When you finally made it to the port mafia headquarters, mori once again held a tight grip on your arm and led you to his office. You said nothing in fear of making him any more angry. His smile said it all. He pulled you through the double doors with a hand on your back.

You could barely see anything in front of you. When the doors finally shut, a single light in the middle of the room turned on. And there you saw black lizard standing behind a man blindfolded and strapped to a chair. He thrashed and wailed through the makeshift gag in his mouth. Your eyes widened as you covered your gasp with both hands. Mori cleared his throat before speaking, “thought you could mess around my back and get away with it didn’t you Y/N-“

“Mori!! That’s my cousin!!” You shrieked before running over to your relative and pulled at his bindings. Everyone stood in shock. “C-cousin????” They all yelled in unison. None of them moved to help you, they were too stunned. You whispered softly to the boy in front of you telling him it was going to be okay and that you were so so sorry. As you struggled to cut the rope, gin fumbled around with her blade before helping you cut him loose. You decided to keep him blindfolded so he didn’t see anything he wasn’t supposed to.

Tachihara and hirotsu watched in awe as you held him close to you and led him out the door. Mori only stared and watched you glare in his direction when you walked passed him again. He could see the disgust in your eyes and it made his heart hurt inside his chest. He really messed up this time.

You ended up driving your cousin back home all while apologizing profusely. You explained your situation and what kind of ties you had with the port mafia. That basically traumatized him further so you promised that he would be under your complete protection until this mess was cleaned up. You stayed with your cousin for a little while until you were absolutely sure he was going to be okay then you made your way home.

Mori was waiting for you when you opened the front door again. He ran his hand through his hair as he got up and made his way over to you nervously. Then he locked eyes with you and he remembered the anger and disgust that clouded them earlier today. “Y/N I’m sorry I just-“

“Mori are you serious? You really thought I would actually cheat on you?? Do you really trust me that little?” You blurted out to him before crossing your arms over your chest. Elise even came out from wherever she was before and stood by your side. She looked up at you and copied your posture before facing your husband angrily and sticking her tongue out at him.

He could basically feel the rage radiating from your body. And now Elise was obviously taking your side which made it worse. He dropped his head down and let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry y/n really I am.. I just got so scared that you would leave me. You don’t understand that you mean the world to me and to see you with another man, one I had never seen before at that, didn’t sit with me well.. Will you ever forgive me?”

A moment passed and you didn’t make a move or sound. You kept glaring at him with your arms crossed after a few minutes passed. He gave up. He slumped over the sofa and shoved his face into his hands. You really were mad at him. Then he felt your soft hands caress his cheek in an attempt to make him look up at you. You could see small tears in the corner of his eyes as you rubbed your thumb against his cheek.

“I forgive you as long as you promise to never do something like that again. And please, have a little bit more faith in me. I didn’t marry you for no reason after all,” you said. He nodded his head before pulling you into a tight hug. You giggled slightly and hugged him back. Elise wined and wiggled her way in between the both of you complaining about wanting love too.

“Oh and one more thing,” you said as Elise nuzzled your head underneath your chin. Mori tilted his head in confusion, motioning you to continue. You gazed darkly at him before a sick grin grew on your cheeks.

“I need Gin, tachihara, and hirotsu, to all formally and appropriately apologize to my relative, or I swear on the ground they walk on I will have their heads”

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #slight angst #mori ougai #mori ougai x reader #mori x reader #elise #Gin akutagawa #tachihara michizou #ryūrō hirotsu #sorry it took me so long #slight fluff #anonymous

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shinymooncolor · 4 years

Text

@siriuslyqueer gave us goalies, pining and angst. @wxlfstxrx some much needed fluff. So I thought we’d do a bromance hat trick with a little sweater weather chat. Love ya all 🏒❣️

@lumosinlove created a well of wonderful oc’s and they’re all my new mvp’s. 🥰

Sweater weather chats #3

Nado is fuckboy extraordinaire. Kuny is mad. Olli is so done. Logan does not have a curfew. Or does he? Dumo grounds Nado. Walker worships Noelle. Remus chokes on his tea. Kasey ruins zucchinis for Dumo. Does cars have names? There’s a ritual burning. Everyone is up early on a Sunday.

——

Sunday 3.44 am

7 missed calls from Nado.

Nado:

kuny please pick up

I’m sorry. Fuck I messed up okay.

I’m so sorry okay. Fuck just call me back.

Wtf you took my Porsche? Over the line man.

Fuck you told Sergei. His wife just cAlled and yelled. She’s terrifying. I’m sorry

Kuny please come home.

Sorry.

Please

Kuny

Evgeni. Please I’m sorry okay

You’re my best fucking friend and you’re supposed to forgive me. I’m an idiot. Just come home. I’m not gonna stop texting. I will fucking not let you walk out on me man.

I said I was sorry. Please man. Sorry.

Please.

I’ll join some freakin cult and become a monk if it gets you to talk to me.

—-

Sunday 7.23 am

Nadotheman: guys has anyone heard from kuny yesterday or today? Please I need to speak to him

Sergei_81: give him some time. you did something bad and he’s mad. He will come home when he is ready

Nadotheman: he’s got my Porsche. Is he with you? Can I come over

Sergei_81: he’s not here. We got family visit. No time for your stupid fights

Prongstar: what did you do Nado? Ate his mom’s homemade cake again? Or did you forget to water his aloe Vera plant?

Ollibear: he’s here. Don’t call him.

Siriusly: what happened?

CarbO’Hara: Broke the fuckign code @nadotheman not cool

Prongstar: WHAT DID HE DO? @russiangod also how does finno know?

Ollibear: please stop texting him. I’m worried he might snap the remote or my PlayStation

LoganTremblayzzz: @nadotheman hope you got insurance. 911 turbo not looking good. Hahahaha

Prongstar: what. Happened?

Ollibear: he turned up here at 4 am, scaring the shit out of mrs. Williams next door. Woke up when she screamed. Apparently 6.4” Russian guy in a black hoodie is not what you expect to bang on your door at that hour. He’s been fuming in Russian ever since. And he ate all our Doritos. Stole nado’s Porsche. We gathered he’s mad at Nado but not sure why. Got him to at least talk to Sergei

Sergei_81: he’s got good reason to be mad. Nado can tell you what he did.

Timmyforrealz: what does this mean: он спал с моим двоюродным братом @sunnysideup @sergei_81

Sunnysideup: what?? Oh nado. This is bad.

Prongstar: I used google translate. @nadotheman you slept with his sister?!

Siriusly: !!!

Talkiewalkie: over the line bro. Damn.

Sunnysideup: wait he doesn’t have a sister? Does he?

Sergei_81: yes he means cousin.

DamnFoxy: wow. This is lowkey funny. Sorry but I’m laughing

Prongstar: spit my tea out

RussianGod left the conversation

Nadotheman: fuck look what you idiots did.

Siriusly: you did his cousin.

DamnFoxy: 😂😂😂

Talkiewalkie: uh not cool bro. Like. Fuck.

Timmyforrealz: you talkin about fucking sisters? Aren’t you putting the moves on Logan’s sister?

LoganTremblayzzz: @timmyforrealz 🤦🏽🙅🏼🙍🏾👎🏻🖕🏻

Talkiewalkie: I’m dating noelle. Not putting moves on her. I’m worshipping the very ground she walks on. She’s a goddess and I’m but a mortal man

Kaneyoudigit: can you just keep it in your pants for once, Nado…. jeez

Eliascookie: HAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHHH. You’re never meeting my sister. Ever. Damn.

Newt-leo: shut up this isn’t about noelle. Nado wtf? Didn’t wanna believe Finn and lo. He’s texted finn but in Russian. Think it was meant for sergei. Did you really sleep with his cousin?

Krisvolley: wow. Anyone checking up on Kuny? Shit. Can’t leave the two of you alone.

LeWilliam: yeah, is Kuny alright @ollibear? Also, @nadotheman - you freaked when he kissed that waitress. Karma is a fuckin bitch 😏

Nadotheman: fuck off cubs.

EvanderBell: oi. No need to be mad at us. You messed up. You deserve this. Also if he totals Dolores it’s totally on you!

Nado the man: shut up. Everyone. I know I screwed up okay? Fucking hell. They look nothing alike and she didn’t tell me.

Sunnysideup: didn’t you meet her through kuny?

Nado the man: well yea. went out for a drink. Kuny was being boring and went home. Talked to her and we got along and well.

Bradygunz: did you at least pay for her drink? Also uncool bro

Nado the man: I paid. Fuck off.

Dumodad: I’m away for 1 day. 1 day boys. @nadotheman do I have to ground you? Adele is serving 2 weeks for lying about her homework and having a boy in her rooM after curfew.

Prongstar: dropped the ball with Logan then @dumodad, eh?

Sergei_81: I support grounding Nado.

LoganTremblayzzz: @prongstar like lily didn’t ground you when you came home sans shirt and with kasey’s jeans on backwards Also I never had girls in my room after curfew. Also don’t have curfew.

Dumodad: yes you did. Curfew at least.

Blizzard: holy fuck. Just woke from a nap. Wtf? Also @prongstar, @logantremblayzzz never had GIRLS in his room. Just had Leo and finn. Playing hide the zucchini.

Siriusly: @blizzard. Loops just choked on his tea.

Dumodad: I can never eat a zucchini again. Merde

BliZzard: just keeping it real boys. Also don’t be hard on @nadotheman he’s a man whore. One day he’ll grow up

Nadotheman: I’m older kasey and shut up

Ollibear: Nado you really have to apologize.

Timmyforrealz: @nadotheman this is serious. Olli just ate a box of moomin cookies. Nado please fix your relationship. Olli can’t handle his parents fighting. He’s legit green looking. He’s eating junk food. I’m scared.

Nadotheman: Olli tell them you were there. She came on to me. She never mentioned Kuny

Ollibear: I’m not getting involved. Also you owe me $432 for the champagne. And he introduced you before he left.

Prongstar: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

Dumodad: @nadotheman you’re grounded. No clubbing or I will call your mom.

———

Sunday 7.56 am

Nado: Olli please is he with you guys? I need to speak to him.

Olli: I’m sorry he doesn’t wanna see you. Please give him some time.

Nado: 💔

—

Sunday 8.02 am

Nado: I’m not gonna leave. I’m parked outside and you’ve got to call the cops to get me to leave. You’re my best friend dammit and I’m sorry. Fuck please just talk to me!

Kuny: don’t want talk. Is hard. I’m smart in Russian. English stupid.

Nado: wait then get Olli or Timmy to type it. Just tell me how I can make it up to you.

Kuny: hi Nado. Olli here, I’m typing for him. Timmy is trying to salvage our remote.

I’m trying to type and understand ok? Kuny knows his cousin is (I’m paraphrasing here - I refuse to call a woman that) sociable and he’s mostly upset cause he’s worried about you. Okay he didn’t mean that - he means that he’s upset you slept with her but he’s also worried cause he says you fall in love too quickly. (You two are idiots - he’s trying to protect your feelings) he does not want me to type that. But he broke our remote. But he’s also mad you slept with her after he said not to. And he claims he did tell you. How much did you two drink? When I picked up the tab you’d only had a few bottles of champagne and you gave most of that to the hen party in the next booth. Also he’s mad you had sex - god, Nado - the living room, really? At least go into your bedroom. Apparently you had a deal you wouldn’t do that. Wow you need some self control buddy. Okay. Now he’s saying that he’s okay to talk to you. So you can come in. You better have showered!!!!

—-

Sunday, 8.27 am.

KrisVolley: @ollibear, what’s going on?

Ollibear: they’re fucking idiots. Stupid overgrown manbabies.

Timmyforrealz: well. Olli cursing is hilarious. It’s like Casper the friendly ghost saying fuck... 😂 Quite anti-climactic. Was anticipating a fist fight or at least a black eye. They just talked and @nadotheman cried. Ha. Long clingy chat short; Kuny was afraid his cousin was just using Nado - like he’d ever object? Nado admitted he was drunk and upset with Kuny over something else (they’re like my teenage twinsisters I swear) also Kuny was mad Nado fucked his cousin on the couch. So not classy @nadotheman... Jesus this soap opera is like the episode of friends where chandler is in a box.

Sergei_81: they ok?

Nadotheman added RussianGod to the chat

RussianGod: we good. But he has to do embarrassing thing now. I chose. Will think long before decide. Also he buy new couch

Prongstar: Kuny my dear friend - I will happily help think up evil revenge. Also burn the couch

Nadotheman: I didn’t fucking cry. He stinks. My eyes watered from the stench.

Blizzard: aw Nado its okay. We know you’re in an established bro-tionship.

Talkie-walkie: am I the only one worried about the Porsche? She does not deserve to suffer just because Nado is a slut.

RussianGod: dolores is fine. Love car too much. Only wanted to scare Jackie.

Nadotheman: stop calling me that kun(t)y. 😘

Ollibear: ffs you two just made up, just kiss and get the fuck out. I’m done being your therapist. Good night.

Timmyforrealz: they broke olli. He even kicked a chair and hurt his toe. Haha he’s cursing in Finnish. He also has hidden nado’s car keys. Dolores is ours now.

——

They did a ritual burning of the couch. Dumo did call Nado’s mother. She grounded him and gave Kuny a bunch of embarrassing photos of teenage Nado. We’re talking frosted tips and platform shoes.

#lumosinlove #sweaterweatherchats #sweaterweather #sweaterweatherchatsnr3 #hattrick #bromance

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malyceaduncastellan · 4 years

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Home

Hello! Prepare yourself people, this one is... pretty long. I got a bit carried away so here’s another Talbott piece for you.

Also, writing in second person with a neutral MC is HARD. I don’t know if you people prefer it that way, because I kept trying to write with my MC in it, a Slytherin girl, and boy would it have been easier. But what’s done is done. Just don’t forget to tell me what you think about this !

Forgive the eventual mistakes as English isn’t my native language. I hope you’ll enjoy it though!

~~~

Today was… Quiet, to say the least.

While you sat in the great hall, you couldn’t help but notice just how weird that was. You were the only one in your friend group eating at the moment (and knowing how many friends you had, that was, once again, weird) and all the others students chatter felt like a distant whisper. You almost felt a bit sad. It felt way too much like… home, today.

You did not like that. Or at least you weren’t used to it here. You let out a sigh and decided to play with whatever was left of food on your plate with your fork.

-Nobody taught you not to play with your food?

-Ha!

You almost jumped at hearing the rich and deep voice. When you turned around to meet the amused glare of Talbott Winger, you furrowed your brows. He even had the nerve to make fun of you.

-Talbott, you git! You almost scared me to death, you protested.

-Yes, I am sure I’m way scarier than a Cursed Vault. Terrifying, even. You’re shivering at nights thinking of me.

-If you think I’m even fearing a Vault you’re severely mistaken. Now, I suppose our resident bird boy didn’t make me jump out of my robes for nothing.

-You’re the only person I wouldn’t mind eating with today. That is, if you’re still eating.

You looked at your plate, that looked more like an uneatable mess of stuff you wouldn’t feed a dog. Talbott was watching you silently, his gaze trained on you with a dubious look, and suddenly you felt like eating what you were playing with earlier was not such a bad idea.

-Sure. I was bored eating on my own anyway.

The ghost of a smile graced Talbott’s face and he sat beside you. Silence fell between the two of you while you managed to eat your mess of a lunch.

Your plate was soon empty though, and you were left staring at the wall, trying not to put too much attention on Talbott eating. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

-You’re not eating any pudding?

-Never been one for to much sweets… you whispered.

Oh bloody hell, this was awkward. You weren’t really nervous with Talbott around. He made you relaxed somehow. What was awkward was how every single time you were within a meter of his presence, you started to think a bit too much. Like, how intense his gaze was, how his jawline was manly even though he was barely sixteen, how tall he was, how big but slim his hands were… And his voice. His voice, that noise so rich, so deep that sounded like melted chocolate, and it somehow came from his throat even when he tried to groan.

Boy, were you into deep.

But it was much better to think about how hot you found Talbott than this dreadful feeling following you today.

-You’re awfully quiet, you know, he ended up saying. It shows that you’re usually the one maintaining conversation, we’re being awfully silent today.

Bugger, now he had noticed you were day dreaming.

-Sorry, I suppose the ambiance is getting to me. With Quidditch, the Cursed Vaults, my brother and… the many other things I do in a year, I never really stop to... think.

-I never noticed. So Hogwarts Curse Breaker, prefect, and top-notch student doesn’t stop to think.

-You really like to make fun of me, don’t you?

-I love the way you react when I do.

-You’re such a tease, Winger.

He smiled at you and you felt you were done for. That smug awful little smile. You hated it. It looked way too endearing for your own good, so you turned your head and pretended to focus on your plate.

-What classes do you have this afternoon? Talbott ended up asking.

-I’m free since I passed last flying exam.

-Good. I’m free too.

-Why do I have the feeling you’re about to drag me somewhere in the woods to talk to me about ornithology in what seems like a three-hour class?

-Who do you think I am, you? I was just thinking we could go to the Owlery together. You look like you need to get away from all… this.

He gestured at the Great Hall and at what now looked like a huge sea of people. He knew you way too much compared to some of your other friends. You didn’t even hint to the fact you weren’t feeling well at all, yet he knew you didn’t.

-You’re way too good at knowing what I’m thinking of. It’s depressing.

-Not really. I just figured even you needed an escape sometimes. It’s not like you to be so distracted. And let’s be honest, I like it better when you’re cheery.

He was right, again. It was not like you. But now, Hogwarts seemed so liveless, so useless to you. You did not want to do anything or see anyone. It felt… empty. So you had to fill up your mind, and it turned out it only filled with thoughts of him when he was around. And there was no way you would tell him that.

-It’s even worse than I thought, said Talbott after a moment. You worry me right now.

-Wouldn’t have taken you for the type to be worried about me. It’s cute.

-Don’t pretend you’re okay by joking. Besides, how do you even expect me not to worry about you? We tell you “Don’t go there, don’t do it, it’s dangerous”, and then you’ll get all smiley and stubborn and say “Sweet, danger! Let’s go there, what a ride!”

-Oh, shut it.

Okay, Talbott could be quite vexing sometimes. Your mouth started to form a pout and you stayed silent while he ate. You could feel he sent some looks your way, but you were too busy pretending he didn't exist to care.

Five minutes into it, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You were still upset, but as you could only think of him right now, either you were going to hit him, or hug him. And somehow, you felt he wouldn’t be pleased by either options.

-I need to go.

You got up and finally looked at his bewildered face.

-I thought you didn't have any classes? he asked.

-Huh… yeah. But I… have something to tell Bill. And Charlie. A… Prefect thing.

-Oh. I.. see?

Talbott always seemed tense whenever one of the Weasley boys were involved. You supposed they made him feel insecure with how passionate and driven they could be. Anyway, you could see him tense the moment you mentioned Bill, but per usual he didn't say a word of what was going on in that pretty head of his.

-... Join me in the Owlery after you're done?

You raised an eyebrow at Talbott's question, but decided to not think about it to much. This certainly was bad for your brain.

-Sure. Look forward to it.

You ended up smiling at him without forcing it despite how nauseous you felt. That felt like a win. You rushed to the corridors and ran straight into the Weasley boys, Percy included.

-I'm sorry Percy, but I need to grab those two, prefect thing. You muttered without leaving room to protestation.

Bill seemed a bit startled when you grabbed his arm and dragged him through the corridor, but didn't say anything, and per usual, Charlie didn't find useful to ask you any question.

You supposed they knew better.

When the three of you reached the prefect bathroom, Bill finally spoke.

-You need a massive Weasley hug, right ?

And then the dam broke.

-It feels too much like home here. It’s so empty and lifeless, and I can’t feel anything but dread if that makes sense, and then Talbott comes in and has the nerve to speak, and then I was thinking “either I hug him or hit him” but honestly, if I stayed inside this hall I would probably have puked on him.

You took a breath, then looked at the Weasley brothers.

-I need a ton of Weasley hugs, if I’m still entitled to them.

-Oh, come on. You’re an honorary Weasley. You’re getting a hug.

Charlie reacted faster than his brother, wrapping his arms around your shuddering form. Bill followed suit, engulfing both of you with a smothering hug that was definitely all you needed right now.

-Hey, do you know there’s a species of small plush-like dragons in North-America that are reported to comfort children by eating their bad dreams?

You laughed. Of course he would speak about dragons. Charlie always spoke about dragons.

-Of course I don't, Charlie. Only you would know that.

-Brother, less talking. More hugging, ordered Bill.

Lost in this mass of ginger hair, you felt a little more at ease. When they let you go, you giggled.

-Oh boy, I don’t know what I’d do without the both of you… I don’t really know what happened to me. It felt like I was overwhelmed with… nothingness, if that makes sense?

-... You said it felt like home to you. And if I’m by any means right, home really doesn’t feel good.

-Home feels… More and more empty, is all. I don’t really want to talk about it. I just… I really needed emotional support, I’m sorry I grabbed you both like that.

-Hey, listen. Anytime you need, we’re there. You’re our new sibling, that’s how it is now, said Bill.

-Wholeheartedly agrees with that brother of mine.

-Now, have we cheered you up enough so we both can go and eat? Not that I don’t like hugs, but they don’t fill up a man’s stomach.

-Yes, yes you did. Thanks a lot.

-Anytime.

They moved to get out of the prefect bathroom and made their way to the Great Hall.

-So, what exactly are you going to do this afternoon? I have to pass the flying exam, but you did so last week, Charlie asked.

-No real plans whatsoever. Talbott said something to me about going to the Owlery, but I don’t really know if I’m up to it.

-That boy is smitten with you if I’ve ever seen it, pointed Bill. He’d never ask anyone else to go to the Owlery with him.

-Merlin’s beard, no. He’s just more sensitive than you think.

-Cut the crap, I know you like him too.

Busted. You bit your lip, but your cheeks flushed red nonetheless. If anyone saw you right now, they might think someone transfigured you as a strawberry and failed miserably to turn you back to a human being.

-I think you should go there. You shouldn’t spend today alone, and it’s unlikely Talbott would force you to talk if you don’t want to.

-Sure…

You stopped walking in the middle of the corridor.

-I’ll be going there, then. Thanks again for… everything.

Bill winked at you and you watched as the Weasley brothers disappeared when they turned. The uneasy feeling began to spread again in your chest and you did your best to suppress it.

-Come on… You muttered between your teeth.

You faced worse things than that, you should be able to get on with your day.

The thought of Talbott, waiting for you at the Owlery and being disappointed that you didn’t join him became more and more dreadful in your mind. And while, somehow, you felt awkward going there, you thought it was even worse to be a bad friend to him.

Bill’s words echoed in your mind. You didn’t find it really… logical. Talbott liking you, really? He liked quiet, calm, composed people. Or you thought he did. And while you could be all that, you were pretty much the dangerous type. He couldn’t possibly like that.

And yet, you liked the idea, but you pushed it in the back of your mind. You had to focus on being a good friend. He deserved to have a good friend, not a friend that was gushing over him like a first year marveling at his transfiguration’s skills.

Though, when you noticed him in the Owlery, you found it overly difficult. You had become friends something around two years ago, and boy had he changed. His face that perpetually seemed frozen in a frown surely smiled more now, but that was not the only thing. He had a lot of growth spurts, and he was tall, and lean. While you had been around the same height before and you were taller than most of the students in your year, Talbott towered above all of you. As if he even needed you to find him more handsome now, it kinda looked like he was constantly telling you “watch me, i’m getting better every day!”. And if he knew what you were thinking about, he would probably tease you about it.

-A little birdie told me that infamous animagus Talbott Winger was around here. I wonder who that is?

Talbott turned and smiled at you. There was an owl he seemed to care for in his hand, and it spreaded its wings a bit more at your sight too.

The two of you had become a known pair with the birds here, and some of them seemed to recognize you. This one looked pleased to see you, and you walked over to Talbott to greet the bird.

-Ain’t that… Ain’t that Merula’s owl? you said. What happened to her?

-I don’t really know. But she seemed a bit stunned when she flew back here, I figured she needed a bit of attention.

The owl made a little chirping sound at your hand on her head, and you smiled. Birds were awesome.

-Are you okay ? With… that “prefect thing” with Bill and Charlie?

-Yeah, sure. I mean… Why wouldn’t I be okay?

A nervous laugh escaped your throat.

-You look like you need a bit of attention.

-Oh boy…

-Listen, I’m not one to force you to anything, but you were there for me when I was feeling down. You even forced me to be your friend. Let me feel I didn’t let you in for nothing.

-You didn’t, I swear… But I can’t very well explain it. And it’s not against you that I can’t seem to think properly about that when you’re around. I just get… Overwhelmed.

Silence followed suit. Talbott seemed to study you, and his glare was almost unbearable to you. Whether it was because you were scared or because you wanted to get lost in his eyes, you didn’t know, but this uneasy feeling wasn’t really something you appreciated.

-I really can not seem to win against you, huh? Talbott muttered.

He let go of the owl, then sat down on the floor, his gaze still trained on you.

-Come on.

You followed him a bit reluctantly, not even trying to put a distance between the two of you, because he would notice. He was too smart not to notice. It was not because you wanted to be close to him. Not at all. You tried to concentrate on your conversation.

-I don’t know what you’re talking about when you say “winning”... Are we fighting? Are we fighting and I was too busy self-wallowing to notice? I’m sure I was a terrible friend, I’m so sorry.

-You talk too much.

An arm wrapped around you and you jumped.

-The Weasley always do that when you’re down. I’m not really good at this but… If you need it, I’m here. I’ll always be. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping.

-Oh no, this… it’s fine. Really. Thank you. I guess… I guess I was afraid of annoying you. You got too much on your mind already.

-Then I was the terrible friend. But on a more serious note… I like you way to much for you to ever annoy me.

You giggled.

-Are you mocking me? Talbott asked, groaning.

-No!

But you didn’t stop giggling.

-It’s just I fought so hard to get you to say we’re friends, I can’t imagine what it must have taken for you to tell me you like me.

-It didn’t take anything. I like you. Pretty much the easiest feeling about you I had to understand.

-So you got “feelings” about me.

-Including the fact that I like you, I got a lot of feelings for you.

And then, finally, it dawned on you.

-Wait, when you said you “like” me. You mean… “like” me “like” me?

-Whatever you say doesn’t make any sense.

You raised your head and finally got to get a glance at him. He looked a bit confused, and his gaze couldn’t seem to hold yours, but the sunlight fell on him and he had never looked more handsome than now, basked in golden rays that just made his eyes stand out.

-Talbott, you won’t make me believe you didn’t understand what I just meant, you’re not stupid.

-I’m not, but what you said could easily be interpreted in… other ways.

The way he avoided your gaze made it impossible for you not to smile. He was cute. He looked cute.

-I need to rephrase it then, to avoid ambiguity?

-Only if you want to… mumbled Talbott.

-Oh lord, you’re way too cute.

The words had escaped you but you didn’t feel bad about it. Not when Talbott’s eyebrows raised in surprise while still avoiding to look at you.

-Okay. Talbott Winger, are you saying you like me as in you want to be my boyfriend?

-This might be correct.

-Oh, so it is that way, huh?

Silence followed and Talbott turned to finally look at you. You couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. That day had started horribly, but right now was probably the highlight of the whole year.

-I’d expect more reaction from you.

It then dawned on you that you hadn’t told him anything yet. You lost your smile, realizing that while this was exhilarating, you had no idea of this worked. And Talbott almost literally asked you to date him. Like, seriously date him. No secret meetings at the owlery. Dating. Like holding hands, hugging, kissing. Maybe more. Date. Him.

-The idea doesn’t seem to drown you in enthusiasm.

A little smile appeared on Talbott’s face. But it was not that warm smile he offered only to you. The comprehensive look he sent you didn’t have this affection lingering behind. His stance was not relaxed as it usually was. And his voice sounded cold, far from that rich sound that usually graced your ears.

How many times did all those things scream at you that he had feelings for you? You didn’t really know. You knew when you had started to notice all of it. But knowing that all this time, he hadn’t said anything to you…

And now that he did, you even managed to hurt him. And you could not bear it for one more second. You liked the fact he liked you way too much. You liked him way too much.

-Talbott?

He didn’t react, simply looking outside the window.

-Talbott, look at me.

He flinched, but once again, he didn’t move. Maybe he tried to collect himself or something, but you were having none of it.

-By Merlin’s bloody beaded braided beard, Talbott, look at me, please!

-How the bloody hell did you pronounce that?

He finally turned his head, reluctantly, furrowed brows, and he looked at you while you tried on a little smile.

-Forgive me, okay? I didn’t want to seem insensitive.

-You don’t have to feel bad for that. I got it, you’re not interested, and you have the right not to be interested, but-

-Oh, will you let me speak, birdbrain? You interrupted him. I’m trying to explain myself here, don’t make me shut your pretty mouth myself!

-And how, pray tell, would you even make me shut my mouth?

A ghost of his usual smirk made its way on Talbott’s face. And you decided that, for real, he had not only lead you on, but he had teased you enough. Now was the time to not only tell him how you felt, but to play a little.

-I could kiss you, you said bluntly. Would you like that?

Talbott’s mouth opened, as if he was too shocked to even process what you just said, and you worked on making the most innocent face you could manage.

-Wouldn’t you? You continued. The idea didn’t shut your mouth, but you did stop talking. Too bad, I would have liked to kiss you.

-Do it.

-What?

-Kiss me.

A surprised gasp escaped your lips. You almost had forgotten Talbott’s arm around you, but you sure as hell were reminded of it when he pulled you closer to him.

-H...Hey, I might bump your nose or something, Talbott… you whispered, a bit flustered.

-I don’t care. Kiss me.

-Okay...

Your hands found their way on Talbott’s cheeks and you planted what felt like the softest kiss on his lips. It was barely a peck, nothing more, but it seemed to build a fire inside of you. That felt so much better than the dread from the morning that you started to giggle.

-What’s so funny?

-Oh my god, I never would have thought you liked me, how clueless was I?

-You didn’t really answer though.

You gave him another kiss, a bit longer, a bit clumsier too.

-I’d love you to be my boyfriend, Talbott.

And when he hugged you with all he had, you were sure of one thing. This moment, right here, right now, with him.

This felt like a real home.

#talbott winger #Talbott x Jacob's sibling #talbott x you #talbott x mc #talbott hphm

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captainelsaeverdeen · 4 years

Text

I like me better when I’m with you.

Okay so! I never considered writing on this blog, but I just had the cutest idea e v e r and I decided to do something about it. I used to write a lot but I stopped to publish anything years ago. Maybe it’s time to come back. Who knows! For now I just wanted to see if someone would like it! English is not my first language so pretty, pretty please forgive me if you find any mistakes :(

summary: based on ‘To All The Boys I Loved Before’. Y/N Henderson used to be in love a couple of times. This time she’s sure it’s something bigger, something serious. Her love for Jonathan Byers is unlimited, untamed and endless. At least she thought so. You can read Part 2 Here.

We knew that it was wrong. That he was betrothed to my best friend. But if this isn’t what he wanted then why did he come to the field of desire? It was faded, that we should meet like this. So when his lips touch my neck to put a gentle kiss on it…

“Mom asks you to wash the dishes” Dustin was standing in the doorway of your room, smiling silly. He presented his full teeth with pride, moving his eyebrows in a funny way. “It’s not my turn” you said and slowly turned over a page of book your brother interrupted you from reading. “Yours, if you’re planning on going out with Nancy and Jonathan today” he shrugged his shoulders innocently. “Excuse me?” you turned your head so fast that your neck hurt. “Says who?”

“Says me. You forced me to vacuum last week when I wanted to go to the arcade, but it was your turn. So if you don’t want to be late, you better hurry” “I hate you” you sighned putting the book down. You ran you fingers through the cover of it with two lovers, leaning towards each other just before the kiss. Dustin was still standing in the doorway.

“Do they not mind when you are going to their dates?” He asked suddenly. “They don’t call it ‘dates’ when I’m with them. They have time for each other, but we’re still friends. Just because they’re together doesn’t mean… that I’ll stop being their friend” you said. “Whatever you say. I think that’s weird. Totally weird. I wouldn’t want to take Mike or Lucas or Will if I wanted to meet my girl”. “No one asked for your opinion, you abominable little shit!” you screamed going to the kitchen, aggressively putting plates in the sink. They didn’t deserve such terrible treatment, but Dustin was right. It was weird. Weird as fuck.

After the infamous party at Tina’s last Halloween night, when Nancy broke up with Steve Harrington, and rumours about them didn’t go silent for a good month she and Jonathan became extremely close. You always spent time with them separately. When Nancy and her boyfriend wanted to be alone, you would watch movies on the couch at Joyce Byers’ house. When Jonathan promised Will to take him for a ride in the car listening to The Clash, Nancy combed your hair as Donna Summer filled her room with her songs. But after Halloween, everything changed. Nancy started sitting between you and Jonathan as you guys were watching ‘The Shining’ with a bowl of popcorn. And Jonathan knew ‘I Feel Love’ by heart, although he hated Donna Summer. Something was wrong. Something was diffrent.

By Christmas, everyone was sure that Jonathan and Nancy started dating. They spent Christmas Eve together and then announced their relationship to you together. And that’s not when your heart started beating faster when you saw him. Not when they were holding hands, not when they kissed every time before the car started from the driveway when they came to your house. Not until Nancy Wheeler took your seat on the couch at Joyce’s house. It wasn’t until then that something unimaginable, something wrong happened, something that should never have happened. You started to have, a little, small, tiny crush on your best friend.

And it wasn’t that you were jealous of Nancy. She was a great girl, smart and deserving of a wise, loving boy, which Jonathan was. But the heart is a treacherous tool. You could leave it with a cat for a month, thinking everything would be all right, and when you get back, you’d find that it threw it out the window. Because it can never be trusted. Admitting your feelings was not an option. You could lose Nancy or Jonathan. Well, Robin and Dustin would still be staying by your side, of course, but losing someone close hurts too much. Too much to be dealt with by an organ that throws the cat out the window. So smiling is okay, pretending everything’s okay is okay. As long as no one guesses and stupid feelings go away.

Not for the first time, right?

“Y/N, honey, what are you still doing here? Jonathan’s here” Mom came to the kitchen. “Ask the youngest” you rolled my eyes and kissed her on the cheek, running out of the house. Nancy pressed the alarm button a couple of times, dropping the window on the passenger side. “I don’t think you’re so excited to see Jason Voorhees for the fourth time since you’re two minutes late” she said, putting her wrist with the watch on it out the window.

“Maybe if my brother weren’t such a troublesome goddamn gremlin, you guys wouldn’t have to wait for so long” you fastened your belt and smiled at Jonathan. “Tell me about it” Nancy rolled her eyes. Her hand was clenching on Jonathan’s hands, their intertwined fingers were on his thigh. He was probably just letting her go to change gear, to grab her hand back, wanting to touch her. You smiled slightly to yourself. “I’m a little offended” you hit the back of Nancy’s chair a little bit. “You questioned my love for Jason, knowing he’s the man of my dreams. I wouldn’t miss this movie now or ever”.

“Man, you have a strange taste in men” Jonathan twisted his head.

Oh boy, if you only knew.

“Who’s gonna pick them for you when I’m out of college?” Nancy said quietly. When you were a year younger than them, you had to reckon they would be gone soon, but the thought still was terrible. You opened the window and put my hand out, feeling the cold wind on your fingers. “Robin’s doing great” you smiled. “She likes Michael Myers”.

“I’m begging you. He’s not even half as terrible as Freddie” Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and my father is Stephen King” you snorted. Nancy smiled a little. “And Robin’s driving terribly” Jonathan got ripped off. “Whatever my life depends on it, I’d rather give my car to Carol Perkins, she can at least turn around.

“I gotta get off so you two can both stop making fun of her?” “Oh no. We don’t want Jason to get you here… on a dark road… near the woods…” Nancy wiped out and turned to you with her hands ready to attack. You hit her hands to turn around so she didn’t even think to touch or tickle you. “You can ride with me” Jonathan shrugged his arm. “I like Robin, but your life is in danger when she’s behind the wheel. I’m not going anywhere yet.”

There it was. The stomach’s fickles, the heat on your cheeks and the smile and the awful awareness of how wrong it was. How inappropriate and how unfair it was to Nancy, who sat so close to you, that she could count your moles if she turned around. But before she even thought about him, he was yours. Not exactly, of course. But when Will went missing, he didn’t turn to her for help first. He wasn’t at her door in the middle of the night, rambling about how his mom is getting crazy. He was always a lonely ship drifting in the dark sea, and you were his anchor, which drifted in time to hold him.

Well, once Jason had killed everyone he was supposed to kill, and for most of the movie, Jonathan and Nancy spent most of the time giggling and whispering to each other, after looking at their inseparably intertwined hands, it was time to go home.

It’s not that you wanted to steal your best friend’s boyfriend. You were super happy for Nancy. She deserves a great guy like Jonathan. So it was time for another letter. Fifth, if you believe your stupid heart. “How’s the movie?” Dustin asked when I walked by his room. He was only wearing one sock and reading a comic book. “Didn’t you faint from the excess corn syrup blood?”

“I’m not you” you showed him your tongue. “I didn’t forget about the dishes!” “Oh, you did! The pan is still dirty!” Dustin screamed, but I already locked the door to my room and sat at my desk, hiding my face in my hands. After a few awfully long seconds and listening to the bang of an owl outside the window, I pulled the card out of the drawer looking for a black pen.

Dear Jonathan Byers…

These letters are your biggest secret. You weren’t going to send the letter, it was just for you to understand how you were feeling. But really, you guess it was mainly about how sometimes you imagined what it would’ve been like if you’d realized how you felt about them sooner. To all of them. There are five of them: Chris from summer camp, Stanley from the homecoming, Ralph from the neighborhood who lived across the street for just three months, Steve Harrington from high school, and Jonathan.

You’ve seen Chris once in you life, for two weeks in the riverside forest. Stanley was the only one who asked you to dance, seeing you sitting alone on a bench. Ralph moved into Hawkins a few years ago, but his parents decided to go back to Florida. Steve… well, he became quite a different person when you went to high school. And Jonathan… Jonathan is still an infinite chapter. A chapter in book that’s too beautiful to finish reading it early.

You write a letter when you have a crush so intense that you don’t know what else to do. Rereading your letters reminds you of how powerful your emotions can be, how all-consuming. You hide them between the vinyls on a shelf above the bed, where no one will ever find them. Robin would say you’re being dramatic, but drama can be fun…

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked suddenly, entering the room without knocking. “Nothing” you smiled, covering the unfinished part of the letter with your elbow. “Your room is a mess” brother looked around. “And listen, about that pan-”

“Good night, Dustin. I hope you will be dreaming of something nice” you smiled sweetly, showing him the way out. It wasn’t until he left that you finished pouring your feelings onto the paper that you put the letter into the envelope, addressed it and put it between the vinyl, where there were four similar envelopes. Each one was for another boy, who would always be a part of you.

Yeah, drama can be fun. Just as long nobody else knows about it.

“So you’re telling me” Robin stopped halfway down the track. She didn’t care about getting a pass at the PE, anyway, you too. The coach sent you an indulgent look, and your friend just shrugged her shoulders. The other girls ran past you, rubbing your shoulders, but besides that, they didn’t pay much attention to you. “That they were on another date, taking you with them again? Why don’t you just say no to them?”

“I don’t know” Robin groaned and grabbed her side. “What’s going on?” “My body reacts badly to physical effort” she muttered and sat on the treadmill, pulling her legs out. “Some running won’t hurt you” Becky Miller snorted, running alongside us. “Running is humiliating” Robin didn’t even look at her. “Dude, you have to stop this. Every fucking time you come to me and tell me how badly you’re feeling, you’re the one who’s responsible for it. Tell him finally how you feel. Nothing’s gonna happen. There will be no earthquake. The aliens won’t find their way to Earth. And you will finally fall asleep and free yourself from that strange triangle”.

“I don’t want it to be weird between us” you shruged your shoulders.”If I push them off, I’ll start losing them. They’ll find that the two of us are actually better off and… forget how cool it used to be.”

“That’s why relationships sucks” Robin moaned and grabbed your hand. Coach had already started walking towards us, but he was still far away. “But hey… Nancy is your friend. Jonathan is your friend. They care about you. They love you. Maybe not as much as I do, but they do. You don’t have to worry. Everything’s gonna be okay, just… just don’t let it break you. Okay?”

“Okay” you smiled. Robin smiled too and turned her back, frowning her eyebrows. “What’s Harrington doing here? He’s all sweaty and, oh, my God, he looks gross, but shouldn’t he have basketball practice now?”

“Hey, Henderson!” Steve has spoken to you. You lifted your head and swallowed. Steve hasn’t talked to you since you guys were thirteen. Damn thirteen. “On a scale from one to ten, how bad this looks like?” you asked when your hands started shaking. “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties” Robin responded quietly, standing up. “Me?” you made sure and Steve nodded his head. His hair was in terrible disarray, but although it was wet and stuck to his forehead, it still looked impressive. He wasn’t angry or upset, which was good, but… but he didn’t look happy either.

“If you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office” Robink winked and walked away. “Look, I just wanted to say that I really…” Steve licked his lips and wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. What the hell was going on here. “Goddamn, this is the first time I’ve been in situation like this… I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen”.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked. Why did Robin have to leave? Why did she have to leave you? “From what I remember that kiss was hot, you know, for being in seventh grade” Steve said slowly, leading the eye somewhere outside of you, just to avoid looking you in the eye. “And I think it’s really cool you think I have golden specks in my eyes. And that my hair is gorgeous. But this is a strange moment for me… I just broke up with Nancy, you know… Becky is… she’s fine, she seems fine. I may not be ready at all…”

You stopped listening to him and looked at his hands. You don’t know what you expected, maybe they will shake as much as yours, but no. He was holding the envelope. A white, slightly old envelope, with his name written with your writing. With your pen. And your hand.

“At first I thought it was just Dustin’s stupid joke, but that dipshit probably doesn’t even know how to write…” Steve kept on talking, but your mind was somewhere else. It went all the way from school to your house, tossing the whole room in it’s memory, wondering hhow did the letters get in sight. How did they even reach the people they were never supposed to reach?

“I don’t want to be an asshole, and I certainly don’t want you… I don’t know, to feel bad about it, but…” Steve’s voice was drilling into your brain, and your stomach started to shrink painfully. Maybe it’d have managed, if it wasn’t for the fact that Jonathan was just going to the pitch, and he also was holding the envelope.

Oh, no.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harringotn #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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winterfrostlovetriangle · 4 years

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Hi, I'm sorry, right now I'm very angry and sad because I haven't slept for like 26 hours and I can't sleep for the next 4 hours sooooo May I request a loki or tom x reader where she is VERY pissed off because of lack of sleep and they end up fighting but then Loki/Tom understands that she only needs cuddles and some good sleep? (sorry if there are some grammatical errors but, plz understand me,, English is not my native lenguage + I really need to sleep)

Hi! First of all, I hope you have been able to get some sleep! As one who also struggles to sleep, please take care of yourself. Secondly, I am SO sorry this is late. I have been super busy. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Masterlist

Cuddles

Tom was sitting on his bed reading a book, enjoying his night. He would be happier if his girlfriend, Y/N, was with him but you were working late again. The hospital was very demanding recently, and you hadn’t been home for almost three days straight. He sighed, put his book aside, and scrubbed his hands over his face. It was late and you should have been home two hours ago. He missed you terribly! He didn’t like your spot being empty. Yawning, he stood up and walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Tom heard the door open and smiled, but frowned quickly when he heard it shut.

SLAM!

“Oh dear,” he mutters. He cringes as he hears things being banged about in the living room and kitchen. Tom rushes out of the bedroom to find out what is wrong and comfort you if necessary.

“Y/N,” he called. Tom’s voice is drowned out by more banging. What is she looking for?

“Y/N! Love, what are you doing?” he asked louder making his way over to the kitchen.

“Think you could be of some use?” you huffed. Tom raised his eyebrows.

“As soon as you tell what you are looking for, yes.”

You glared at him and rolled your eyes, continuing your search. You opened every cupboard in the kitchen only to slam it shut a few seconds later. Glancing at Tom, you saw shock and concern written all over his face. You narrowed your eyes and moved on to the next cabinet.

“You already looked in that one.” Tom’s voice drifted over to you.

“And your point is?”

Tom yanked you to face him. “Stop, just tell me what you are looking for and I will get it.” He kissed the top of your head before pulling back to look you in the face.

All you saw in his eyes was pity and concern. You felt a little guilty, but you were far too upset to stop now.

“Why? You don’t think I can do it on my own? That I am some lowly damsel in distress?” you snapped.

Tom took a breath, “No, because your behavior is concerning. I want to know what is bothering you, Y/N.”

“Nothing, I’m fine. You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

“Try me,” Tom said.

“I just want food. I need a pan.”

“Y/N, I told you there would be food in the fridge for you so you wouldn’t have to cook.” Tom stood in front of you trying to calm you down.

Comfort was the last thing you wanted right now, you were too worked up. You turned away and started cleaning the kitchen, you needed to keep your hands busy. You sighed heavily, frustrated. You felt Tom watching you again.

“You know, it would be nice if you helped out every once in a while,” you grumbled. “You’re always away galavanting at parties and ceremonies, only to lay around all day and contribute nothing to this household. I work my butt off for days at a time, and then I have to come home and take care of you and your mess. And I’m sick of it!” You were boiling and didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t keep your emotions in check and took them out on the first person you saw.

Tom had an unreadable expression on his face. “Forgive me,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize I was such a burden.”

“Ugh!” Stop apologizing,” you yelled. Would you stop being such a bloody gentleman for one minute?” “You’re always so nice and it is so annoying!”

“Fine, you want me to stop being nice?” Tom asked. “Then here goes. My so-called galavanting is my livelihood. I love acting, but I hate going to parties, award shows, and being away for months at a time! I hate being the center of attention, but I do it for my fans. I talk about you all the time in interviews and said parties, but you don’t know that because you never come, you are always working too,” he growled. “So don’t you DARE lecture me on how much I’m away! I haven’t complained about you working, have I?” His jaw clenched. “I miss you so much, but I don’t say anything because I know it would just stress you out even more. And as for not doing anything around here - I make sure the flat is spotless when you come home so that you can relax and de-stress. I clean the house on my days off, I cook, and pay the bills so we can live here.”

You gave no response, but stared at the carpet, no longer able to hold his gaze.

“You know what? This is pointless.” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am going to stay at Ben’s tonight. I need to stop before I say something I really will regret.” Tom stood still for a moment hoping you would say something. He shook his head, raking his fingers through his ginger locks and walked to the bedroom. Leaning against the inside of the door, he closed his eyes. He felt awful for what he’d said and how he yelled. He hated yelling, especially at you. Tom knew he shouldn’t have let you get him riled up. He knew you were probably exhausted and just needed to let off some steam. Sighing, he thought about what he could do to make you feel better. He smiled as he remembered the one thing you loved to do to relax, and set to work.

After Tom slammed the bedroom door, you sank down on the couch. The realization of what just happened hit you and you felt like trash. You had never once lashed out at Tom like that before. You had your spats, but nothing close to this. You were exhausted and wanted to sleep for a week, work was terrible and today you almost quit. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear your boyfriend call you. Tom stood in front of you, taking in your appearance. You looked haggard and pale. He knelt down and placed one hand on your thigh and the other hand on your cheek.

“Love? Please look at me.”

You shook your head, but Tom crooked a finger under your chin so he could look you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry love. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with you. And I didn’t mean to make it seem like I do all of the housework. You do a lot,” he apologizes. Tears welling in his eyes. “I hate you being angry with me. Please forgive me?”

“Oh Tom, you have nothing to be sorry for,” you began “It was my fault. I was so angry and instead of just talking with you, I blew up in your face.”

“Y/N”

“Please let me finish, babe,” you shushed him. He nodded and waited for you to continue. “I am SO sorry. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It wasn’t you, honest. I-I’m just so tired. Beyond exhausted, actually.“ You tried to blink back tears, but it was too late. “I…”

Tom pulled you close as you sobbed on his chest.

“It’s alright, Y/N. Let it out. I’m right here, love,” he soothed.

He rubbed your back soothingly and whispered sweet things in your ear. Not sure how long you sobbed, you slowly started feeling better. You put your hands around Tom’s waist and hugged him tightly, your way of a silent thanks. He smiled and kissed your temple.

You pulled away. “Will you forgive me, Tom? I acted horribly and I am so sorry.”

He cupped your cheek and used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears. “Of course, darling. But on one condition. You talk with me next time you are angry and we’ll work through it.”

You nodded and gave him a tired smile.

“Good,” he said before pecking the tip of your nose causing you to giggle. “I have a surprise for you. Let’s go to our room.”

You looked up at him curiously.

Tom picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bedroom. You snuggled into him, your head on his chest. You noticed his heartbeat picked up a little. Tom stopped just inside the doorway and gently tapped your side. Opening your eyes you gasped. There were candles all over the room; you didn’t know you owned so many. The smell of vanilla and lavender wafted through the air. Tom knew you so well.

“Tom, it’s beautiful! But I don’t deserve any special treatment.”

He walked you to the bed and placed you on your side. “Ah, my little dove, that is where you are wrong,” he chuckled. “You do. You are exhausted and in need of some cuddles.” Tom kissed your cheek before climbing over you to sit down. You giggled at his antics, knowing full well he was trying to get you to laugh.

He sat down pulled you close to him. You instantly melted into him, molding your bodies to become one. You tangled your feet in his until every part of you was touching. You were beginning to relax. The calming effect of the candles and the feeling of the man you loved wrapped around you. You were home. It wasn’t the building that made it home, it was being in Tom’s arms that made you feel safe, warm, and loved. No matter how cruel and dark the world got, Tom would always be there for you.

“Thank you, Tom. I love you.”

Tom kissed your head. “I love you too, darling,” he whispered as you finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Thank you to my editor, @lokiodinsonking!

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston angst #fluff

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atinyan · 5 years

Text

Bad Boy!Seonghwa x reader

Genre : Angst, Fluff

5 months ago Seonghwa asked you out, and you have been in a beautiful relationship ever since. However, Seonghwa was of course the bad guy of the school and thought being in a public relationship would have people think he’s weak. Seonghwa isn’t the type to flirt with girls randomly either, so being him meant he completely avoided you in the halls, he wouldn’t even smile at you. You understood at first, because he always made up for it with some nice home cooked food, a movie marathon and sweet cuddles. You got to see another side of Seonghwa no one else did. Not even his closest friends.

But today, two members from his group, Mingi and San, decided to mess with you.

“Hey whore” San says and pushes your locker closed. You look at him shocked, wanting to punch him, wanting to talk back, but no words would come out of your lips, and your body was frozen. Mingi walks up to you with a smirk on his face, “hey whatcha got here?” He grabs a notecard. ‘Oh shit’ you thought.

Every day during lunch, you leave Seonghwa notes in his locker, he loves them because they encourage him throughout the day and he overall finds it so endearing. If his group isn’t up his butt 24/7, he gives you the same notes. Today you were too busy studying you didn’t have time to put it in his locker, so you were going to see if you could leave it by his car after your last class.

“Lets see, oh-” Mingi starts laughing while you're trying to get it but San has a good grip on you. “SAN- GET THIS HA- ‘I love you Seonghwa, with all my heart. Have a good day, love’” San starts cracking up so hard his grip on you lightens. Your cheeks heat up and you grab the note from Mingi and try to hit his arm but he grabs it in time. His eyes darken and his voice gets lower. “Oh you wanna hit me? I see.” He grabs the note from your grasp again and San pushes you to the floor.

You chase after them but they get to Seonghwa first. Tears are running down your cheeks and your face is flushed with embarrassment. “Seonghwa! Look at what this desperate chick wrote” San and Mingi continue laughing while you stand there and cry embarrassed. “Seo-Seonghwa I’m sorry” Internally, he's broken at your state, and warmed at what you wrote to him. He wants to hug you and tell you not to cry. But his pride of fitting in and being the bad guy takes over.

“You wrote this? Pathetic little girl. Please don’t sit near me in English, weirdo.” He tears the notecard and tosses it in your face before walking away with San and Mingi, who are still laughing. You pick up the notecard pieces and toss them away, your heart is shattered. You head to the bathroom to get cleaned up, but you only cried even more. A few girls who walked in offered a shoulder to cry on, and gave you their numbers if you ever needed anything. The act was warming but you can’t shake Seonghwa from your mind.

Eventually, the bell rings and you head to class. A class you unfortunately shared with Seonghwa and his gang. You held your head down and sat in a corner, tears still falling from your cheeks. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Mingi, San, Wooyoung and Yeosang laughing and pointing at you. “That’s enough. Stop calling them ugly, they’re not and you know it. You’re just jealous they were about to give Seonghwa a love card and not you” You heard Hongjoong said, the group’s unofficial leader. You’re glad your head is down because your face flushed even more as tears spilled out. The boys who were laughing shut up, Seonghwa was completely avoiding your gaze. He felt terrible but just wanted to make it through the day keeping up this act and then talk to you.

Yunho though was staring at you. He’s the class clown for a reason, he likes seeing people smile, not see them upset. Seonghwa glances up when he sees Yunho walk up to you. He says some lame corny joke that’s so lame you can’t help but let out a giggle. “Too bad they don’t have eyes for Yunho, they’re cute together.” Jongho says. Seonghwa is fuming as he glares at Yunho, not at you, no. He loves you and is aware of his jerk actions but is glaring at Yunho. The teacher walks in and Yunho leaves to go back to his seat with the boys, Seonghwa gives him one last glare before paying attention to the board.

“You’re getting assigned projects today. First, find your partners, I don’t care with who. Go.” Many people get up and walk to their best friends. “Sorry Mingi.” Yunho says as he goes to you, who didn’t seem like they had any partner in mind. “Want to be my partner?” He says and you nod your head. Mingi smirks and just works with San and Wooyoung. Talking about Yunho and you will probably date soon. Seonghwa still glares at Yunho as he sits next to Hongjoong.

Class is eventually over and Yunho says his goodbyes to you and walks out with Hongjoong and Jongho. You take your time since it’s the end of the day. “Hey Seonghwa lover” San says again and pushes you as you fall over on the desk a bit. “Ooo look her skirt rode up. Let me get a peak baby.” Yeosang said and they all laugh. You quickly fix your skirt and walk out quickly, tears welling up once again. Seonghwa was there, witnessed all of that and didn’t do anything.

You walk home, knowing you’re safe from the boys. They pick on a new person everyday, so you’re safe now. On your doorstep sits Seonghwa. “Oh no” you mumble under your breath. He notices you and gets up quickly. “Baby…” he says as he walks towards you. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You say with hot tears running down your face. “They-They bullied me and made sexual comments to me and all you did was sit there! You even called me pathetic!” He grabs your arms and pulls you into a hug. “I know I’m a jerk-” “Good I’m glad you noticed” You say as you get out of his grip. “Listen please. I feel awful. I really do-” “Prove it then Seonghwa. Just prove it. Because I don’t believe a word you’re saying” You walk into your house and slam the door, just wanting to get some good sleep.

The next day you walk in to school, head held a bit more high. Feeling glad you stood up to him. Your pride is soon shattered as you see the boys standing by your locker. But as you get closer you noticed half of them had bruises. As you approach, Seonghwa comes closer to you.

“I told them everything about us. Then I had Jongho, Yunho and Hongjoong help me kick their asses for what they did to you. Then Yunho and Jongho kicked my ass for what I did to you.” Seonghwa says, more ashamed at the last part. “I love you” He kisses you softly with everyone else standing there. “I dont deserve forgivness but if you do, I promise to never fuck it up. I will protect you from anything and everyone, I am not ashamed to show the world you’re who I love, and I will never, ever, be the cause of your heart break ever again. If I break anything I just said, which I will not, Jongho and Yunho aren’t afraid to beat my ass again.” He slightly smiles and waits for your response.

You think for a moment and kiss him. He smiles and kisses back, cupping your face and melting into you. “You have a second chance, because everyone makes mistakes. I trust you won’t break my heart again, but don’t fuck it up” You laugh and kiss him again. “Gross” Yeosang has a fake look of disgust on his face and Jongho hits his side.

Seonghwa pulls away and keeps his hand on your waist, putting his head in the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, forever”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez angst #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #seonghwa imagines

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kshitij1997 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 8: Childhood, stories and role models

A late evening in Midsummer, 1825, Arendelle

King Agnarr's passion for books and stories was legendary. He had been collecting books since the age of five. He had books on all subjects, be it tales of ancient times, philosophy, nature, mathematics, the skies above, the sciences that dealt with the functioning of the world. Not to mention the private histories that he had collected of various people across the world. The lives o great people who lived centuries before him from lands as far as the hermit kingdom of Korea, the isolated lands of Japan, the protectorate of India and the Dutch East Indies (Modern day Indonesia). Stories that appealed to the greater good in all humanity.

Stories of Warlords like Yi Sun Shin, the naval commander who defeated a fleet of nearly five hundred enemy Japanese warships, with only twenty-three ships under his command, using the ingenious turtleships, a fighting vessel of war centuries ahead of its time, when the Japanese invaded in 1592 to 1598, even as he was being hunted down by his own master, the king. Stories of supreme courage to fight against all odds for your homeland, be it the enemy or your own government.

Then there were stories like that of Ashoka the Great, the ruthless emperor, warlord and warmonger whose name meant 'the one who never mourned', whose expansive policies brought all ancient India under his control, save for Kalinga. Said emperor was fair to his people and cruel to his enemies. Said usurper waged war against his hundred brothers when they were between him and the throne. Said conqueror vanquished the state of Kalinga when he declared war on Kalinga, where he was defeated even in victory. The cries of the mauled, dying and mourning forever left an impression on the emperor who hadn't known sorrow ever before in his life, who spent the rest of his life shunning conquest, embracing Buddhism, taking the path of non-violence and allowing his children to abandon their royal titles and become monks to spread the faith. Stories of war, conquest and eventual repentance, sacrifice, forgiveness and redemption.

Tales of extreme dedication and unbreakable vows, like the one taken by Gajah Mada, the Prime Minister of the empire of Majapahit, who swore not to touch spice and experience pleasure until all the Indonesian islands were under Majapahit's control. It took him twenty-one years, but he did it.

Tales of Kings, queens, warlords, soldiers and even a few common people with extraordinary fates.

King Agnarr felt proud to have such stories of such people from around the world. How throughout history, people face similar problems and situations and how they rise to face them. He felt even prouder when he realized that his wife Iduna also loved stories. But the proudest moment for him was when he found out that his children had an even greater passion for reading than him. Elsa and Olva were nearly inseparable, taking great joy in reciting their favourite stories and playacting their favourite characters. The fact that Olva had an almost academic interest in Elsa's ice powers was also found to be very charming by the king. She would often challenge Elsa to make something out of ice, usually a new word or name of an object she just learned, and Elsa usually rose to the occasion and made it as if it was second nature.

'How can you make that, Elsie?'

'I don't know Olba, it just came to me.'

'Is that what a pearl looks like, Pa?' Olva asked her father.

'I'm sorry sweetheart, but it doesn't.' Corrected the king. 'This is a pearl' Said the king as he showed the corner jewel of his ring.

Elsa's face fell as she realized her crystal of ice was not the right shape for a pearl.

Agnarr asked Olva 'Well little one, where did you hear the word?'

Olva replied sheepishly a book 'In this big book, it was the only word I could get.'

Agnarr laughed inwardly as he realised that his five-year-old and three-and-a-half-year-old kids had stumbled upon a book written in middle English. Olva helpfully guided him to the place where she had read the curious word. He read the sentence in all the middle English that he could remember, which was ample in this case. It was a beautiful sentence:

'The smooth pearl doesn't pretend to shine, for it knows that it is close to the heart.'

Agnarr smiled, my kids are too precious.

He sat alongside them and said ' Well Elsa, the shape may be off, but it is a pearl for sure. Your ice is close to you isn't it?'

Elsa replied with a small voice ' I think so?'

'Yes, it is! She makes pretty things all the time. She loves it.' Olva chimed in.

Elsa blushed with a small smile 'It is very pretty, and I like doing it, so I guess it is close to me.'

'It is close to both of us, it is a pearl to us.' Olva added as she hugged Elsa from behind. Elsa didn't admit it, but she loved a good hug. She also loved to mess with Olva at times. She waved her little hands over Olva's head and declared 'I name this: vanilla on black forest.'

'Hey! Not fair Elsie!' said Olva as she brushed the thin snow frosting from her dark brown hair.

'Bahahaha, it's so much fun messing with you.' Laughed Elsa even as Olva stuck her tongue out. Elsa responded in kind with a raspberry.

'Alright girls, calm down, ma's here.' Iduna said as she entered the royal chambers with princess Anna, who had just turned two years old, and was learning to speak her first words.

'Snow!' cried the baby princess as she held her head with both her tiny hands.

'Hey Anna!' Both Elsa and Olva chimed in unison as they were beside their baby sister in no time.

'Hey Anna, want to see something?' Elsa spoke to Anna, always one to ask even though Anna never said no to her.

Elsa waved her hands to form a ball of ice, but the difference was that it glowed with a luminescence of its own, as if she had tamed a star into her hands.

'Whoa! Elsie, that's beautiful' Olva said, clearly taken in by the glowing ball of ice.

'Mine!' cried Anna as she reached out to it with her baby hands. She tried to bite into it, alas she was not prepared for the cold.

'Ow!' She yelped and started crying, as the ball of ice fell to the floor and was smashed into a thousand little pieces.

'Oh no!' Elsa wailed as she grabbed Anna and proceeded to comfort her in her arms. Olva joined in and tried to coo her and made clicking sounds with her tongue to calm her down. Eventually the redhaired princess, a quality she had inherited from her father, managed to calm down and started giggling in Elsa's arms as tears of relief ebbed from Elsa's face.

'I'm so sorry Anna.' Elsa wept quietly, even as Olva had now started to comfort her.

'She's all right Elsa, it was just a little chill.' Olva reassured the platinum blonde.

The king and queen watched the scene play out from a small distance, curious to see how they would handle it. The princesses were all right in the end, the royal couple breathed a sigh of relief.

Agnarr's thoughts drifted back to when they had first gotten pregnant with Anna; Dr. Klaus had advised the king not to conceive so quickly after Olva's birth. However, with the deed done, the good doctor advised the king to go for a caesarean operation when the time of delivery came. The king was vary about the procedure at first, but Dr. Klaus had pacified him by saying that it would be easier and safer for both the queen and the doctor. So, the third child was born and named Anna by them together. Elsa and Olva were almost immediately taken in by their baby sister and made sure to always keep her happy and entertained and make her feel loved.

Iduna's thoughts were drifting too, albeit in a different direction. Sure, this was just a small accident, but who knew what could happen with Elsa's powers. She felt foolish in that moment; there was a time when she was comforting Agnarr in his moments of doubt, and now she felt the same fears, only much, much worse. She prayed to all the gods she knew to please let her children have a normal childhood. To not panic when in moment of vulnerability, to not abandon those who believed in her, not to give in to hate when the world was against her. How could her gifted, cursed child even begin to understand these things, much less take the correct decision when the situation arose?

Well, as her mother, she could cultivate a sense of responsibility in her eldest.

'Olva' Iduna called 'Today you and Anna shall sleep with Pa, Elsa will sleep with me.'

'Aw Ma why?' Anna asked even as Olva, who held her, was already snuggled beside her father.

'I need to talk with Elsa, she needs to know something. Good night.' The queen answered quietly. With that, she left the royal chambers to sleep in her own private quarters with Elsa.

'It's okay Anna, sleep with big sister Olva tonight' Olva said, then gave a small kiss on Anna's forehead as they both snuggled close to their father.

'Are you cross with Pa?' Elsa asked nervously when mother and daughter reached their chamber.

'No sweetheart' Iduna comforted her 'I'm here to tell you a story. I promised to tell you a story when you were ready, remember? Well, I think you're ready now.'

Elsa's face lit up as she remembered 'Oh yes! This should be fun! I'm ready.'

The little princess huddled to her mother's side as the duo settled in for the night.

'So, what's the story, Ma?'

'Well, this is a slightly different story than you are used to, little one. It isn't a story of magic; or of princesses being saved by their princes. No, this is a story of survival and sacrifice. The story of a woman who battled the world to protect her family, even if it cost her everything. It might be a story based on true events.'

'Oh, a true story?' Elsa perked up; true stories were a special occasion.

'Yes sweetheart' Iduna whispered.

Iduna proceeded to tell the story of a girl like Elsa, her real name lost to time. The girl was in her late teens, had powers over water and lived with her family in Avignon, France in the 14h century, at the height of pope Innocent the third's rule in the catholic church of Rome. One year, the rains had failed, and famine threatened follow, leading to peasants dying in the thousands from thirst and rising in protest. The girl stepped forward to help the needy, using her powers of water to help those in need and to improve the scene. The pope did not approve; this girl was going to spoil the carefully laid out narrative he had created to destroy the heretic cathars by citing the drought as god's fury. How dare that pipsqueak stand in his way? To discredit her, Innocent the third branded her as a witch, and sent the papal armies and inquisitors after her. The girl had anticipated this and advised her parents and her little brother to escape as quickly as they could. As fate would have it, she was captured and tortured for weeks on end, as the inquisitors wanted the whole family to be vanquished for the crime of nurturing a witch. But the girl held strong, as her family escaped the clutches of the pope away from France with a heavy heart, the girl was sentenced to burn at the stake. The girl went to her death quite bravely, but her screams as she burnt continued to haunt the memories of the local people for centuries afterwards and in time, the girl was canonized as saint Vida of Avignon. Her parents died from the grief, however her little brother survived and found himself in Arendelle. In due course of time, he became a powerful official, and his descendants went on to inherit the crown of Arendelle.

Elsa listened to the story in stunned silence, and once Iduna was finished with the story, she asked one question 'So the little brother is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather?'

'Yes, most likely.'

'I wonder what the girl felt as she died, did she feel sad or happy?' Elsa mused

'Why would she feel sad or happy, Elsa? I think she was very scared.'

'Alright, but was she sad or scared that she was going to die, or happy that she saved her family?'

'I think she felt both at the same time.'

'Can you feel sad and happy at the same time, Ma?' Elsa asked. Iduna began to worry that with questions like that, Elsa was not going to go to sleep. Maybe she chose the wrong story to tell?

'You will find out on your own someday, now close your eyes snowflake.'

As Elsa settled down to sleep, she murmured 'I think, if I was in her place, I would do the same.'

Iduna thought, god forbid should the day come, I fear you might have to.

Across the North Sea towards the south, in the Southern Isles

Queen Paulina was reeling with frustration and anger after another attempt at insurgency into Russia had failed. Her trusted aide, one she had personally broken bread with and had appointed in her service, had tried to poison prince Nicholas in order to prevent him from coming to the Russian throne. If it had gone to plan, the military man would die along with the aging emperor who himself was knocking on death's door, and prince Pokhilarpov, the weakling that he was, would be her puppet as Poland would come back to Europe. Alas it was not so, as her vassal had been intercepted and caught by the prince's private guard. At least he had the decency to poison himself to death before he could be questioned, so she was safe for now. Nevertheless, it was a source of anxiety and anger.

Queen Paulina was counting her losses and planning her next move when her son, prince Hans came running and crying to her. He was wet from head to toe, his fine tunic was tattered, and his face was swollen from the beating he had received in a scuffle, blood ebbing from his forehead. In his hand, he held a torn piece of paper that once had been a paper boat. 'Ma!' cried the young prince of five years of age 'Look at what they have done!'

'What are you crying about now?' Asked the exasperated queen. This boy needs toughening up, he never ceases to cry, the insufferable coward.

'I was near the pool, playing with the boat I made, when the triplets came and pushed me into the pool!' The prince wailed.

'And?' The queen asked.

'When I climbed out to fight them, they punched me in the face, tore my clothes and, and me boat.' The prince finished and started crying again.

'So instead of taking out an eye, you came running back to me? What are you going to do in life? Hmm?' Hissed the irritated queen 'I have bigger troubles to deal with than a squabble between toddlers.'

'Please, Ma. Help me' The prince begged as big tears rolled down.

'Not until you stop crying. Even then why should I help you? This is between you and the triplets. Ask help from your elder siblings if you're so desperate.'

'They hate me, I heard them say that they wished I was dead.'

'What?!' The queen screamed, it was not enough that she had enemies all over Europe, now she had these runts threatening her own child? 'Alright, stop crying, I'll take them to task.'

It was a heated conversation between king and queen when she badgered him in front of their children and ministers, in the imperial court. The king had always avoided conflict, so it was natural that he was severely outclassed by his determined wife.

'Please calm down, Paulina, I can't discuss this here. Please understand.' The king pleaded.

The queen would not back down this time 'I'm supposed to calm down?! When YOU've ignored your children and have failed to see that they are at each other's throats?! I'm supposed to care for decorum and understand your position, when YOU plan for an early grave, while your children are waiting to be let loose and go picnicking on each other?! You nurse snakes in your garden, and cry when you get bitten, who the fuck do you think you are?!' The impossibly irate queen finished her rebuke even as the king's officials and ministers quietly bid their leave.

'Please breathe sweetheart, are they not your children as well?' The king tried to pacify and prod his queen at the same time. A spectacularly poor decision on his part.

'My children?! If they were my children, they wouldn't ever dare say such things. Admit it, you are at your wit's end, aren't you? You don't know how to raise your own children anymore, do you? Looks like I'll have to deal with them personally.' The queen finished with a growl, implying dire consequences for those who had stirred her wrath.

The king was terrified. Of all his wives, she was the only woman who had reduced him to such a quivering, pathetic state. He was scared in general of her, but there were moments like these, when he was truly frightened of her. At one point, he was formidable, unbeatable, invincible. This woman had reduced him to a scraggy, whining fool. At one point in his life, he had known how to laugh, now all he knew was fear.

'No, Paulina, please do nothing of the sort, I'll talk to them personally, I promise.' The king pleaded with folded hands.

'You better do so, lest I strip these baboons myself and have them made into shoes.' The queen relented, in her own way.

Outside the courtroom, Janus was in a corner hearing everything with an expression of horror.

An island off Northern Cyprus, the Ottoman Empire

It was a curious place to be sure, the tower was black like obsidian glass, smack in the middle of the dense forest. Who thought a small island could have such a jungle? But the tower had a treacherous secret of its own; if anyone had tried to touch the stony tower in order to climb it, the unfortunate person was reduced to ash and powder in a matter of seconds. If anyone was lucky, they may leave a skeleton behind as a terrible warning to all. At one point the six-year-old girl living in the tower wanted to remove the bones, but her mother advised against it; she may catch a curse herself if she touched the remains. So, the little girl had little in the way of distraction; Maybe paint a bit, frolic around the castle for a bit, trying not to trip over her golden blonde hair even as her hair grew longer than her body, often using the same hair to bring back to life the young birds who had been killed while perching on the tower, while telling them to avoid her mother's vegetable patch.

She loved how the hair glowed like the sun when she read the incantation in her head. She enjoyed seeing the little birds wake up as if from a deep slumber, before flying away. She also loved taking care of the vegetable patch, feeling a great sense of pride when the land produced good legumes. But her mind always wandered back to the remains, how she felt that perhaps, the people lying there didn't deserve to die. Unknown to her mother, she had tried to bring the skeletons back to life, but she fainted, and all she saw was black. When she came to her senses, she found her mother holding her on by her bundle of hair for dear life, her face wet from tears.

It was then she understood, it was too late for them, and she had nearly died in the process of reviving them. Never again would she touch the remains.

All in all, it wasn't a bad life in the tower; she had everything she needed, a soft bed, good food, and materials for creating art. Once she found out how far her mother had to travel for said materials, she appreciated them even more. However, there was one thing that wasn't there in the tower.

The only thing she wanted, was to go outside the tower, to see the world, to get out of the tower. If she was to choose the day she wanted to go, it would be the day the people in the distance let loose thousands of lanterns every year. It was a special day for another reason, the lanterns always flew up on her birthday. Oh, to experience that in person!

She was broken from her thoughts when her mother called out 'Rapunzel! Time for lunch.' The owner of the voice was a dark-haired woman with exotic features, with eyes that revealed a life lived far longer than what the face showed.

The little girl responded 'Yes, Gothel.' It felt strange calling her mother by her name, but if she preferred it that way, who was she to complain?

Oh, this was a big one, I think.

We're getting close!

As always, feel free to tell me how you feel with regards to the story. Love it or hate it, please feel free in letting me know :D

Until next time.

#frozen #frozen elsa #frozen anna #frozen agnarr #frozen iduna #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #frozen hans #hans frozen #frozen tangled #tangled fandom #tangled fanfiction #tangled #tangled rapunzel

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pinkykitten · 5 years

Text

Heaven’s Light

Marvel

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x female! reader

Warning: bullies

Specifics: fluff, romance, angst, one-shot, race neutral reader, gifs, song fic

People: kurt wagner (nightcrawler)

Words: 1,954

Summary: song fic based on heaven’s light from hunchback of notre dame.

Authors Note: i thought about this when i was watching the movie with my sis, we r like a disney fam. its a song fic based off the song from hunchback of notre dame disney heavens light. if you’ve never heard of this song then pls do its sad depressing but so good and if u never watched the movie pls u rlly need to. also i imagine the gif below would be kurts expression to when he first meets you. prepare urself for a whole lotta fluff and romance and just agh cuteness!

(not my gif! do not own!)

So many times out here I've watched a happy pair Of lovers walking in the night

They had a kind of glow around the

It almost looked like heaven's light

Kurt felt left out no matter where he went. Even some mutants bullied him for what he looked like. He thought he was a monster. Just once all he wanted was for someone to understand him, to accept him for who he was and what he looked like. He was lonely.

He peered around the cafeteria, the study rooms, everywhere. It seemed as if someone had somebody. They had a companion. Kurt was just left out. All by himself. He started to feel that maybe it wasn’t those folks fault but his. Maybe he was the problem.

As he glanced out the window he could see a couple walking together. Hand in hand. Kurt almost felt tears rush into his eyes. “Vhy can’t I have zhat?” He always wondered as the sadness consumed him.

I knew I'd never know That warm and loving glow Though I might wish with all my might

Kurt had tried many times to get a friend. He did all the things a friend ought to do. He was kind, looking out for the other one, charming, but still nothing worked. If he got an inch close to any one they would put on a disgusted face and walk away horrified. Or they would laugh at him, laughing until they cried. But he did so too.

Almost every night he would go to his room and just cry and sob until he fell asleep. All he wanted was to have a companion and maybe if he was lucky a girl to call his love. He’d wish and hope and pray.

Kurt would look in the mirror and just feel disgust, he loathed the way he looked.

“Vhy vould anyone vhant to be vith me?” He touched his face with his hands, tears entering his eyes and spilling onto his cheeks. “No face as hideous as my face. Vas ever meant for heaven's light.” He fell onto the floor and just sobbed, longing for love.

But suddenly an angel has smiled at me

Kurt was walking down the hallways and that is when he bumped into...you.

“Oh I’m sorry, please forgive me! Es tut uns leid (sorry).” He felt so flustered and was waiting for you to scream or run away. Instead you helped him with his books that had fallen.

You chuckled, “Its okay, I sometimes bump into others as well its no biggy. Are you okay though, you’re not hurt right?”

Thats when Kurt looked up at you and his heart stopped beating. He felt like his world had just stopped. You were the most beautiful girl, person, he had ever met. It was like an angel was looking down on him. He was love struck. He stared in awe at your beauty and everything that you were. He became bashful and started to stutter.

“The names y/n l/n, whats yours?” You stuck your hand out as you gave him his books.

“Uh uh uhm m-my name is Ku-Kurt Vagner, some call me-”

“Nightcrawler? Oh my god you are so cool! I’ve heard so much about you! I’ve like seen you in action though, you’re pretty rad I gotta say.”

He was shocked, usually people would of ran away screaming or frightened but you were different. Instead he could see that you were shy and bashful as well. “Zank you, I zink you’re very beautiful.”

You almost choked with how precious this boy was, “Hey Kurt you think you’d like to come with me to the library? Even if you don’t read or don’t like it we could think of something else to do.” You gave him a heart warming smile and all he could feel was butterflies in his stomach. It was as if he were being blessed right there with such a angelic creature. Kurt gave you an akward smile, “I vould veally like zhat actually.”

And kissed my cheek without a trace of fright

You and Kurt were inseparable. Every waking moment you two were together. He was like your other half. You two went on so many dates together. It was a match made in heaven.

It was a special night. It was a couple months into the relationship and Kurt wanted to do something spectacular for you.

He made it so you two had a beautiful dinner by the water at a nearby restaurant. He got you your favorite dessert after words. He was so nervous, thinking you might not enjoy the night or you might not enjoy his company.

“Y/n I I vould like to show you somezing.” He took a huge gulp as he took your hand and guided you to the surprise. You were so excited and truly loved Kurt.

As he stopped he took his 3 fingered hands off your eyes and whispered into your ear, “you might look now mein Engel (my angel).”

You opened your eyes and there before you were a whole show of sparkling, colorful fireworks. Taking a huge gasp you stare at all the beautiful wonders. Kurt takes in your face and his heart almost explodes like the fireworks. How much you adore and are mesmerized makes all the hard work that he put to make you happy so worth while.

“So, do you like it?” Kurt stutters as his eyebrows knit together.

You feel a tear slip down your cheek. No one has ever done anything like this for you. It meant a lot. You looked into Kurt’s direction and at that moment you wanted to always be with him no matter what. He was yours and you were his.

Kurt is frightened at you crying and starts to freak out, “meine Liebe (my love) please don’t cry. I’m sorry if you don’t like it.” He put his hands out to touch your face and wiped your tears away.

You shook your head, “no baby, I love it. And I love you.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave Kurt a kiss on the cheek. Kurt sucked in a breath and held it in. He could feel the flutter of your eyelashes as they danced across his cheek. Your lips felt so delicious on his skin that he wanted you to stay there like this forever or have your lips all over him.

“Kurt you’re crying!” You went normal and stood there worried about your boyfriend.

Kurt chuckled and tried to wipe his tears away but instead you wiped them for him. “Yeah I guess I am. I’m just so happy to be vith you. You make me so happy.”

You beamed and kissed his knuckles, “you make me happy too.”

Your arms ended up wrapped around his waist with your head placed gently on his chest listening to his heart beat. You two watched the rest of the fireworks together in love.

(not my gif! do not own!)

I dare to dream that she Might even care for me

Today was the day, the most important day of your life. You would be getting married to the love of your life. The day started off beautiful, you put on your dress and greeted your bridesmaids. Everyone from the X-Men and others were there to support you and Kurt. It was almost like a dream.

You put on your dress and did your hair and makeup. As you walked down that aisle your heart seemed to burst at the immense love you had for that other being at the end of the aisle. The song played loud and you could see from your veil Kurt was crying. Tears of joy at just how beautiful you looked. Seeing him cry made you cry and you smiled seeing the love of your life.

As you made it there you could hear whistles from your friends.

“Ach du lieber Gott (oh my god), y/n you look so gorgeous my love. I can’t believe it, is zhis vreal, you look just beautiful.” Kurt said as like a prayer as he took your veil off. You chuckled and looked down bashful. Kurt lifted your face to meet his eyes and he raised his brow and gave you a wink and mouthed, “you’re also very sexy.”

You shook your head and tried to stifle your giggles.

It was onto the vows and you went first, “Kurt the moment I met you my whole life changed. I knew that I wanted to be with you every single moment after that. When I look into your eyes all I see is beauty and braveness. You are so courageous my love and even though life might have pushed us away fate seemed to bring us together, I am so thankful for that. I knew I wanted to no, I knew I needed to be with you when it was getting hard to breathe when I didn’t see you or when I wasn’t with you. My life is not the same without you, my life is not worth living without you Kurt Wagner. I am so lucky to have you as my soon to be husband and I can’t wait to spend more beautiful memories with you.”

Kurt was a mess. His tears were uncontrollable. He thought all his life that he wasn’t good enough and now you showed him that he was, he was enough and he did find someone who truly loves him. You kissed his hands and placed them to your cheeks.

“Y/n, first off I love you so much that I can’t even zink in English or even in German. I love you so much. I vas vanting someone like you to come into my life. I vas praying hoping to find just someone vho liked me, vho didn’t run avay from me or get scared of me. God must of veally liked me because he did not just give me anyone no he gave me an angel. So precious and so amazing that sometimes I feel as if I do not deserve you. My life has changed so much since I met you. It has changed for zhe better and you have changed me to be a better person. Every day zhat I live is for you, every time I get up when I get down in a battle I get up and vant to keep living because of you. I vant to see you happy and vant to see you, zhe vision of you in my mind makes me keep on going. My soul does not beat for me anymore it beats for you. You have me y/n, my love you veally do have me and I give myself to you. I give myself, everyzhing I am I give to you. You are my life, my everyzhing. I can’t go on living, can’t go on breathing if you are not there by my side. My life would be meaningless vithout you. So you have me mein schöner Engel (my beautiful angel) you veally have me.”

You two were a crying mess, as you two were announced husband and wife your lips met and it was like heaven. It was all perfection.

And as I ring these bells tonight My cold dark tower seems so bright I swear it must be heaven's light

You rested on Kurt’s lap after the wedding. The bells chiming, ringing signified that you two were married, that the love you two shared has become one now. You leaned your forehead against Kurt’s and kissed his lips slowly, “I love you Kurt.”

Kurt giggled and kissed you deeply, “I love you too y/n Vagner.”

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @andreaoreas, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @fangirl-4-life415, @dirbel, @marwantr, @divaanya, @wassupitschloe, @idontknowwhattocallthisworld (wont let me tag)

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the-observant-frisbeetarian · 5 years

Text

Chapter 7

We’ll Meet Again by George deValier

Arthur very slowly came to the realisation that the surface beneath him was no longer hard and cold, but soft and warm. The world was no longer pitch dark and the room seemed bright on the other side of his eyelids. He finally opened them and quickly realised he was lying in his bed. And that he felt extremely, awfully sick. Turning his head he saw a glass of water on the bedside table and grasped for it greedily. He swiftly finished the whole thing before falling back into the soft nest of pillows.

He could barely remember anything. He had started drinking… Why? Oh. Alfred. He had wanted to get rid of the pain. Well, it seemed to have worked for a while… but now it was flooding him again, and with it came the additional pain of his stomach turning itself in knots and his brain pounding against his skull. Arthur shut his eyes and tried determinedly to fall back asleep. It did not take long.

When Arthur opened his eyes again, the light was not so bright, and his head was not quite so close to exploding. He managed to drag himself to his dresser mirror, but blinked in surprise at the person who stared back at him. He could not remember the last time he had looked in a mirror. His eyes were dark, sunken. His hair was a matted mess. His lips were flakily dry and a large red cut ran across his cheek. He raised a hand hesitantly to his unshaven face, noticing more small cuts beneath the stubble. In short, he looked terrible.

Fragments of images flashed through his memory: glass smashing against a wall, bottles falling empty beside him, the stone floor of the cellar rising up to meet him… Arthur closed his eyes against his reflection, against the memories, and forced himself to get dressed.

Despite his pounding head, Arthur managed to make it downstairs. The first thing he noticed was an empty glass of bourbon on the mantelpiece. But he had left it full… Arthur's stomach flipped. Noticing a note under the glass, he quickly hurried over and grabbed it.

Alfred would not want this. Matthew.

Matthew. Of course. The last thing he'd seen in that cellar wasn't Alfred's face at all; but apparently it hadn't been a dream, either.

Arthur felt a wave of anger overwhelm him. He glared angrily at the note before ripping it to pieces and throwing it into the fireplace. How dare Matthew? How the hell did he know what Alfred wanted? Alfred was dead. As soon as he thought it, Arthur's knees nearly buckled beneath him. Dead. Dead. Alfred was dead.

"Of course he's bloody dead," Arthur whispered to himself. He knew that. So why was it like a punch to the stomach to finally think the words? Arthur breathed deeply, picked up the glass, and took it over to the sink. Back to work. What else could he do?

A week passed in the empty, grey, lifeless existence Arthur had quickly become accustomed to. He was waiting for it to get easier at some point, but at the same time expecting it not to, and somehow also hoping that it wouldn't. As the daily life of the pub went on around him, Arthur remained unmoving and lost in the centre of it. Business had once again slowed down, and today Arthur was left with little to do besides stand behind the bar polishing every glass one by one. It was the kind of mind-numbing task he almost enjoyed doing these days.

"How are you feeling?"

Arthur looked up from polishing the forty-eighth glass to see Matthew standing at the bar, in full dress uniform with his cap in hand. And of course, his polar bear attached to his lapel. Arthur suddenly wondered how he could have ever mistaken him... or anyone... for Alfred. "Better."

"Good. I was worried."

Arthur shrugged. "Why ever should you be worried?"

Matthew fixed him with a slightly disbelieving stare. "You were in that cellar for over a day."

"I was?" Arthur said it flatly.

Matthew fidgeted with his hat. He looked tired and drained. "That night, I came to see how you were doing, and the pub was closed…"

"If it was closed, how did you get in?" Arthur interrupted.

Matthew almost smiled. "You need to start remembering to lock your doors."

"Oh."

A silence fell, then Matthew took a long, steadying breath. "What were you doing, Arthur?" His eyes seemed to burn into Arthur's, almost scary in their perceptiveness. "I walked in and you were lying in a pool of broken glass and bourbon. There must have been six empty bottles next to you, not counting the broken ones."

Arthur shrugged again, expressionless. "I was thirsty."

Matthew's expression was unreadable, but seemed tinged with sadness. "Arthur, you could have killed your..."

Arthur quickly interrupted him. "Forgive me, though I know it was unforgivable to cause you such trouble. Please, accept my apologies."

Matthew smiled kindly and shook his head. "You do not need to apologise, Arthur."

"Nevertheless." Arthur did feel awful for being such a nuisance to Matthew. He was also incredibly embarrassed, and rather uncomfortable. As if he didn't have enough to feel awful about. He just wished he had been left to crawl out of that cellar himself - or simply left there for good. Perhaps that might have been best.

Matthew paused, seemingly at a loss for words. "We are leaving for France. In fact I am already late. I told you I would come say goodbye, so…" Matthew spread his hands.

As he looked across at the kind, young Canadian, Arthur felt another crushing wave of sadness. He liked Matthew. He could imagine being friends with him - in another life. Arthur swallowed heavily. He didn't expect Matthew to come back. "Matthew. I'm afraid I never was terribly good with goodbyes."

Matthew just nodded. "I thought as much. And I understand. I just wanted to… make sure you would be all right. You will be, won't you?"

Of course not. "Yes, of course."

"Good… Good." Matthew held his hand out over the bar. "Goodbye, Arthur."

Arthur took Matthew's hand in a warm handshake. "Goodbye, Matthew. Good luck."

Matthew gripped his hand tightly, his eyes kind but stern. "And don't do that again."

Arthur nodded. When his hand was released, he turned his back and closed his eyes. Would he ever stop feeling like this? Like the world kept ending around him? Even when he tried to help, all Matthew did was unwittingly cause him pain; and now by leaving he was causing more. It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But there it was. Behind him he heard Matthew walk to the door. "Matthew."

Silence.

"Please… please be careful."

"You too, Arthur."

Arthur kept his eyes closed and waited for the sound of the door shutting. Instead he heard an unfamiliar voice behind him.

"Well, bonjour Monsieur!"

Matthew responded uncertainly. "Uh, bonjour."

"Forgive me, you seem very familiar… we have not met before?"

"I do not think so."

"Then please, we must meet now. Let me buy you a drink… for you are the loveliest thing I have seen since I arrived in England!"

"I… uh..." Matthew coughed softly. "Pardon, mais pas maintenant. Peut-être une autre fois."

"Ah, and he speaks French! Be still my heart!"

Matthew gave a tiny, uncomfortable laugh. "Monsieur, we are not in Paris. You may wish to be more careful with your words here. Not all would take kindly to them, and I am sure the last thing you would wish is a jail sentence in England."

The voice scoffed lightly. "Please, my dear, I can tell a likeminded soul from a street away. So come, drink with me, you must not leave!"

Matthew sounded a little thrown. "As luck would have it, Monsieur, I am just now on my way to France."

"Ah, how cruel the fates can be… for that is where my heart desires to go yet I cannot, and though I wish for you to stay you are leaving in my place! Perhaps one day, if we are lucky, we shall meet again."

Matthew laughed dismissively. "We shall see. Au revoir, Monsieur."

Arthur turned once he heard the door finally shut. He almost groaned when the Frenchman approached the bar. Bloody marvellous. First he had to deal with the Yanks, now he had to deal with the Frogs. The man was dressed in a French officer's uniform. His blond hair fell to his shoulders - rather long for a military cut – a light down of stubble covered his chin, and his right arm was bandaged from armpit to wrist. "Ah, how quaint. A little English pub." His voice was heavily accented.

"How can I help?" asked Arthur sullenly.

The Frenchman leant on the bar and smiled brightly. "Yes, please bring me a bottle of your best red wine. French, if you have it. Not to be rude, but your English wine is, how would you say it… disgusting."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He retrieved a bottle of wine from a glass cabinet behind him and slammed it down in front of the Frenchman. "Merlot. Best we've got. Incredibly old, perfectly cellared, simply one of the best wines in the country. One hundred pounds. Oh, and it's English."

The Frenchman wrinkled his nose. "Perhaps I will just have a glass of brandy."

Arthur shrugged. "Suit yourself." He replaced the wine and reached for a brandy bottle instead.

The Frenchman took a seat at a barstool, carefully leaning his bandaged arm on the bar. "So, what is this little pub of yours called, Englishman?"

Arthur gritted his teeth. Arrogant Frog. "The Emerald Lion."

The Frenchman furrowed his brows and tapped his chin. "Le lion vert. Hmm. The name is familiar for some reason." He nodded as Arthur placed a glass of brandy before him. "Merci, mon ami."

"My name is Arthur. And kindly refrain from calling me your ami." Arthur was hit by a sudden memory… "And kindly refrain from calling me your buddy." "All right, sorry Art. Thur." Just like that, the sudden despair of remembrance engulfed him once again.

"Very well." A smile played at the Frenchman's lips as he gazed at Arthur with intense blue eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Arthur. My name is Francis. Won't you join me in a drink?"

Arthur rolled his eyes in annoyance. "No, thank you. I'm working."

Francis shrugged. "Santé." He held his drink up in a toast. Arthur noticed that two of his fingers were missing and felt a sudden stab of guilt. After all, Francis had fought for the same thing as Alfred. Whatever that meant these days.

"What do you think of the brandy?" Arthur decided it would only be polite to attempt sociability.

"This is the first drink I've had in two months." Francis took a deep sip, his expression pleasantly surprised. "And I must say, it is excellent."

"It's English," said Arthur with a tiny smile.

Francis smirked lightly. "Well, I suppose everyone gets it right once in a while." He took another sip and glanced around the pub curiously. "This certainly does bring back memories. It has been years since I have been in an English pub."

"This is not your first time in England?"

"Oh, no. I used to visit regularly, actually, with two friends of mine. We were even thinking of studying at university here, before the war. In fact…" Francis smiled wistfully, his eyes suddenly glazed and faraway. "London was the very first place we travelled together." Then he blinked it away. "But that was a lifetime ago." Francis finished his glass with a flourish. "I must apologise. I do not normally drink so fast."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry… you should see the Americans we get in here." Arthur laughed under his breath as he refilled the glass.

"Ah, the Americans." Francis nodded knowingly. "The young gentleman who passed me at the door earlier… do you know him? He is not an American?"

"Yes, I know him. And he's Canadian."

"Of course - the polar bear. Ah, what terrible timing; what a twist of fate." Francis raised his eyes and sighed melodramatically. "What a tragedy."

Arthur suppressed a laugh. It was the most he had smiled in weeks. "So Francis, whatever brings you to England this time around?" Arthur picked up where he had left off earlier, polishing glasses. He was actually starting to feel rather grateful to this French soldier for the distraction.

"An English hospital ship, actually."

"Oh. Were you wounded in Europe?"

Francis answered slowly. "I was captured in Italy."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Arthur stared at the bar top. He didn't want to know how Francis had lost those fingers. But his curiosity was overwhelming. He thought of Alfred, captured, and what he had gone through. So much for distraction. "Was it… was it very terrible?"

Francis dropped his gaze to his glass, his eyes suddenly dark and hollow. "You really do not wish to know," he said softly.

"I'm sorry," said Arthur again. He felt rather ill. "But you escaped… did many soldiers manage to escape?" A foolish hope.

"Not from those who captured me." Arthur looked at him inquisitively and Francis clarified, "Gestapo. Let's just say that I was incredibly lucky. I have a... how would you say it... a gift for escaping."

"Oh." Arthur reproached himself for even daring to hope about Alfred under those circumstances.

"If I may ask…" Francis peered intently at Arthur over his brandy glass. "You seem very interested in this. Why?"

Arthur paused, then without knowing why he was telling this strange Frenchman, explained, "I know someone who was captured by the SS."

Francis placed his glass down and sighed. "Ah, mon Dieu. I should not have…"

Arthur shook his head. "It's quite all right, I assure you. I did ask, after all."

"This person… he was a relative? A brother?"

"No, he was an American. He was… he was…" Arthur bowed his head, unsure how to finish the sentence. He was inimitable... he was mad... he was everything…

There was a brief moment of silence before Francis spoke softly. "I see. I am sorry."

Arthur shook his head again, blinking rapidly. "This is wartime. What can we do?"

Francis laughed at that, soft and humourlessly. "What indeed."

"Do you know Francis…" Arthur took a deep breath, looked up at the Frenchman, and smiled. "I think I will join you in a drink."

A few brandies later and thankfully the conversation veered away from such painful topics. Arthur knocked back another glass as Francis stared at him wide-eyed.

"You may speak of the Americans, but I have never seen someone drink like you, my friend."

Arthur waved a hand. "I'm used to it. I can hold my liquor." He immediately knocked over the bottle and decided to ignore Francis' laughter. As though the Frog could talk - he was already on his fourth glass. "And it is terribly rude to compare me to a Yank." Arthur and Francis seemed to have found common ground in their mutual exasperation with Americans.

"No class, whatsoever!" said Francis through his laughter. "And such a terrible sense of fashion!"

Arthur nodded in earnest agreement. "And have you ever tried to play baseball? Absolute bollocks! No bloody sense, none at all."

Francis leant forward eagerly. "Mon ami, but you should see the Americans in Paris! They seem to think that the entire world speaks English!"

"English, ha!" scoffed Arthur. "What they speak is not English. And what they spell certainly isn't, either."

Francis laughed loudly. They were quickly drawing stares from other customers in the pub, but Arthur couldn't care less. This was the most lighthearted he had felt in weeks. "And their food," continued Francis in a horrified tone. "It is worse than the English!"

Arthur ignored that last jab. "Their chocolate is rather good." He paused, lost in thought for a moment. "And they're so… eager. Energetic. And cheerful, despite everything. Actually… they're really not that bad at all, old chap."

Francis placed his empty glass down on the bar. "Oui, I suppose this is true. I have been two weeks in the hospital not far from here, stuck in a bed next to an American… Funny, friendly, but mon Dieu, he could simply not shut up!"

"I know exactly what you mean," said Arthur, remembering Alfred's inability to keep his mouth shut. He hadn't seemed to know how.

Francis waved a hand. "Fighter pilots. They are all the same."

Arthur smiled grimly. "It rather seems like it."

Francis glanced towards the ceiling, his expression fondly amused. "Ah la la, but this pilot was an odd one. When he was not sedated he spent the rest of the time pulling off his bandages, fighting the staff, and trying to escape the place. We had a little bet going to see who could get out first. As I said to him, if I can escape the Germans, I can escape the English." Francis raised his drink again.

Arthur hesitated. "Why was he trying to leave?"

"He kept saying he had to see someone…" Francis trailed off and looked at Arthur curiously. "Attend, I am sure this is where I have heard the name of this pub… Ah, these painkillers they have given me, they mess with the mind." Francis narrowed his eyes calculatedly. "What did you say was your name again?"

Arthur clutched his glass so hard he could feel it cracking. "Arthur," he responded in a very small voice. The air seemed to grow heavy around him.

Francis' eyes grew bright and wide. "Of course! Arthur from the Emerald Lion!"

Arthur froze in shock. He didn't dare to think. He didn't dare to breathe. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. "What was his name?" Arthur asked slowly, breathlessly. "This American fighter pilot?"

"Alfred. Lieutenant Alfred Jones."

Arthur dropped the glass. He ignored it shattering at his feet. The world seemed to fall apart and remake itself around him. His heart stopped, leapt in his chest, then thundered rapidly. He stared unseeing, unbelieving, and though he could see Francis' lips moving he could not hear a word. The sudden silence was followed by a deafening crash in his ears. When Arthur could finally move, when he could finally breathe, he managed to speak in a whisper. "Where did you say that hospital was?"

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#We’ll Meet Again chapter 7

11 notes · View notes

filzmonster · 5 years

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I've looked you have a decent understanding of the character of Gilbert. And I have long tormented by this question... if the Sabrian tragedy hadn't happened, what would have been the relationship between Gilbert and Vincent?(Sorry for my English...)

OH MY GOD WHY WOULD YOU COME FOR ME LIKE THAT ?? jk i love this ask any opportunity to rant about my fave siblings of the whole wide world to be honest !!!!!

This is a very good question and I’ve kinda thought about this before, too for fanfiction reasons. So I’m sorry if my answer is gonna escalate a bit because I feel like I’d have to talk a lot about their canon relationship and their canon characters to explain why I think this particular AU relationship you described would be as I think it would be!

(Also while there once was a time when I knew the manga almost line by line, that time has long since passed and my adult brain isn’t as good at remembering things anymore, so I’ll try to back up most of my theorizing and headcanon-ing with actual canon information but please forgive me if I remember things wrong or forget important parts.)

With all that out of the way ... let’s go lesbians let’s go *cracks knuckles*

This is gonna be a rambling mess I can already feel it

So I think the way their relationship would have developed without the Tragedy of Sablier is very closely tied to how Vincent and Gilbert as characters would have developed without the Tragedy.

Like with Vincent, I think a lot of his existential crisis is rooted in his PTSD and the guilt that both came from causing and experiencing the Tragedy. So with the Tragedy never happening, his commitment issues with his own existence probably wouldn’t be as severe and ... motivating for his life goals as they are in canon This could result in him not being as keen on erasing himself as he is in the canon - maybe that wish/thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.

Another thing that’s always been part of his character arc was how different he feels from other people (because of his red eye and the trauma that comes from getting sold by your own mother at a very young age i gUESS). But as it is already shown in the manga during the flashbacks that show him bonding with Noise about how strange the two of them are (even surrounded by Baskervilles who are strange by default), this feeling of ‘being the only odd one out’ would probably go down a bit while he grows up and a) probably figures out that everyone at the Baskerville manor is a little bit odd and b) he isn’t as odd as he thinks he is (again, I think his perception of himself as being strange and ‘wrong’ is something that is at least partially rooted in him being abandoned by his blood family , except for Gilbert, and therefore something that he would come to see as not valid).

All in all, I think these two things would result in Vincent not being so dependant and fixated on Gilbert. Instead, he’d also grow closer to the other people around him (especially Jack and Noise I’d think) and be more than just “the little brother of his big brother” - a role he’s willingly taken on in the canon as his most important role. In the AU, he’d probably be “Vincent” first and “Gilbert’s little brother” second (Does that even make sense?)

Now, in their canon relationship, there is quite the distance between them. This distance is partially created by Vincent and his secrecy when it comes to the past that Gilbert can’t remember. He keeps quiet because he doesn’t want Gilbert to remember all the bad things they had to go through because of Vincent - once again his guilt and shame are playing a big part here. Vincent feels insecure in his relationship to Gilbert. He’s noticed that Gilbert came close to abandoning him before, and he even agrees that Gilbert should have abandoned him and plans for the erasure of his own existence, so he can’t risk letting Gilbert know what he did and what they went through. He’d risk their relationship and he would lose Gilbert. So he choses to keep him in the dark and accepts the distance this creates, instead of risk losing Gilbert.

Gilbert on the other hand calls Vincent out on his bullshit the minute he gets his memories back (”We went through an awful lot of terrible things. I even ended up resenting you, and I felt so bad about it I wanted to die. Vince ... I’m glad you were always by my side”). Ironically, this leads to Vincent falling even deeper down into his existential crisis (”Why would he [Gilbert] say something like that?” he asks a captive Break) - but it also forces him to see this not as something he is “doing for Gilbert” but as something he is “doing for himself” (and that is his ultimate glow up lbr because it leads to him chosing a happy life instead of ersaing his own life.)

The distance between them in canon is also partially created by Gilbert. Even though he can’t remember it, he still feels the resentment he felt for Vincent when they were children (as seen in his flashbacks when they visited the ruins of Sablier in Volume ... 9 I think?). His thoughts basically went down to “I wanted to be needed so I didn’t leave my little brother alone even though I would have been better off without him.” He feels guilty about it and ashamed but because he can’t really remember the context of these thoughts (and because Vincent isn’t telling him even though Gilbert feels that Vincent knows more than he lets on), he just ends up avoiding Vincent and the mess that is their relationship as adults altogether. He pushed Vincent away which resulted in Vincent focusing even more on erasing himself because he thought Gilbert wants to get rid of him, too. They spiraled down that path together until Gilbert got his memories back, which was when he was finally able to match Vincent’s “I want to erase myself for you” mindset with his “I wouldn’t be the person and the big brother I am today without everything we went through - even everything we went through because of you” attitude.

So in canon they eventually end up overcoming this distance. Partly because Gilbert gets confronted with his responsibility & guilt issues and partly because Vincent accepts his own existence. By the end of all that, their canon relationship is quite close. They both worked through their respective issues and came out stronger and more secure in their relationship as brothers.

Back to the AU relationship:

First of all, I think that without the Tragedy of Sablier, these two would be different people. Vincent wouldn’t be so traumatized and Gilbert wouldn’t have lost his memories of being a big brother. Instead, they would grow up around people that are kind to them and make them feel safe and loved as who they are. (I personally think that alone would do wonders for the two of them.)

Anyways, that’s not to say that a happy childhood for them would result in a better relationship between them. As stated above, Vincent probably would be less dependent on Gilbert and therefore more detached. Gilbert would probably be busy with being Glen’s servant and also being prepared to be the next glen - it would set him apart from the rest of the Baskervilles, including Vincent. Also, Gilbert probably would have never been directly confronted with his ambiguous thoughts about Vincent and his resulting guilt issues, but he’d have still thought these thoughts while they were living on the streets so he’d still feel ashamed about them. They’d still create distance between them.

These things would probably result in there being some distance between them too, just not as much distance as there was in the canon. But it’d be distance that they’d probably never get past. In canon they got confronted with the darkest parts of their relationships and of themselves and it forged them closer together. In the AU they didn’t get that chance so there’d always be a remainer of that distance

I can still see them being a unit though. Like it’s them against the world - as shown in the canon when Gilbert freaks out after Alice makes a rude comment about Vincent. Gilbert would still differenciate between his blood family (Vincent) and his found family (the Baskervilles, Glen).

Then there’s this tiny little detail that will really affect their AU relationship: at some point they will find out that Gilbert will have to kill Vincent in order to become the next Glen. From what we’ve seen in the canon about their time with the Baskervilles, neither of them were aware of that part before the Tragedy of Sablier happened, so this is something they’d have to deal with if the Tragedy didn’t happen.

Now comes the part where I’m mostly indulging my headcanons because there is no real canon stuff to back me up - at least none I can think of right now.

The problem is this: Gilbert is not someone who just accepts these kind of things simply because this is “how it’s supposed to be”. (He flat out refuses to say Goodbye to Oz and Alice when they die and is just like “I’mma wait for 100 years”; he burns off his own arm just to stay loyal to Oz, even after he found out that he doesn’t have to be loyal to Oz; he actively goes looking for a way to bring Oz back from the Abyss even if it means letting himself be adopted by the Nightrays.) So these kind of news would probably bring out his “I will protect my little brother at all cost” side (especially since he doesn’t really have a substitute for Oz, so all of his loyality and protective energy would go into protecting Vincent) and he’d either succeed in finding a way to save Vincent (like figuring out that this whole ‘children of misfortune’ thing is just a scam by Jury) or decide against the Baskervilles and leave together with Vincent (however that would work).

Alright. Look, I said this would escalate and it did. I’m trying to be sorry but this was a lot of fun and I’m having a lot of feels now so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

tldr; their relationship wouldn’t be as intense and ‘heavy’ on both of their shoulders and more resemble a somewhat normal relationship between siblings. But it’d still be kinda laced with their respective issues (Gilbert’s guilt and shame for his ‘I stay with you because I wanted to be needed’ & his bad thoughs about leaivng Vincent behind; Vincent feels guilty for existing in Gilbert’s life) and they probably wouldn’t get the chance to resolve those issues like in the canon. So it’d be less intense but also kinda less ... honest. The distance wouldn’t be as big, but they also wouldn’t be as close in the end.

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fweeble · 6 years

Text

Episode 6: My Lost City

Buckle up, and more importantly, arm yourself with tissue boxes, we’re gonna need it.

Pfffft. Max, when will you ever learn the rest of the lines? (Not that I know them, either.)

*swoons into Mappa’s waiting arms* Gorgeous.

Oh, my heart, look at these cuties sleeping. Shorter, cover your tummy, you’ll get a tummy ache. Q vQ

*cries over how precious these two are* Bless this tiny extra scene.

*blows kisses at Mappa*

I LOVE THIS TINY ADDITION. OF COURSE IBE WOULD TAKE PICTURES. I WISH THEY HAD EIJI TAKING PICTURES TOO.

*swoons even more* Mappa, please, you’re killing me.

*cries some more* I have always loved how gentle Ash is with Jennifer.

Jimmy my dude, why’d ya gotta act like this???? >:T

WOW, this is so tame compared to the mango like. Woah.

This had hurt so much, because we know that Max is a father. He has a son, Michael, that he was trying to fight for custody for, but was convinced that giving up was what was best for his son. Imagine being a father who desperately misses their son, who wants to be in their son’s life, and watching another man treat his son like trash. MY HEART. MAX.

Oh god, Ash’s expression. It hurts so much more than it did before. Mappa, why you gotta do this to meeee. I have a soft, squishy little baby girl heart and it bleeds easily.

Totally my bad: They changed the order. JIMMY WHY YOU GOTTA BE LIKE THIS.

*dying hippo noises* IT STILL KILLS ME. FUCK.

*CRIES*

Jennifer is way too good for you, Jim.

*whispers* It’s so gorgeous.

Ash, please. 8′(

I wish Shorter didn’t have his sunglasses on. I want to see his face. Is he super-imposing Nadia onto Griff in this story. We don’t know anything about Shorter’s past. Did Nadia raise him? I HAVE FEELINGS.

Jennifer. Q AQ <3

*cries* I know. I agree with you entirely, Ash. Oof, I love how gentle he is with her. My heart. Look at that face. Let me pretend the one thing he missed about Cape Cod was Jennifer. Let me pretend she had more influence and was able to help Ash and Griff in little ways. Let me pretend Jennifer is stronger than she probably is.

My heart.

Ash, why you always gotta be like this, twisting the knives in wounds and pouring salt all over them. It’s not like Max wants to see your painful past, it’s just that y’all need to suffer through it to get what you want --the truth about Banana Fish.

Thank you Mappa for adding this scene! I’m constantly so worried you’ll cut out all the light-hearted bits in exchange for pure drama. Q vQ

My heart. Eiji, your precious face. Q vQ

MAPPA STOP PLAYING WITH MY HEART LIKE A STRESS BALL. It grows two sizes at the sight of Eiji’s adorable face and then is crushed by Ash’s pained one. *clutches chest*

WOW YOU ARE SO RUDE MAPPA. SURE, JUST KEEP ADDING NEW PUNCHES TO THE HEART. NOT LIKE I NEED ONE. NOPE.

*whispers* My secret favorite thing is how close Shorter and Eiji have been. I have protective feelings about these two and Shorter has protective feelings for Eiji.

Sure is him. Is it just me or do they all have surprisingly long hair for military people.

Aaaaand Ash brings out a smart phone. Soogle...Soosle? This is... attempt... #5 for cells trying to save the day. (So far, they never have.)

*strangled noises*

Oh Ibe, you’re so soft with Eiji. You still have the mafia after you guys, you should be yoinking Eiji and heading for the nearest international airport.

Also... y’all aren’t gonna discuss your Visa difficulties?

Trust me, Ash. They all do. Q vQ

Ash, please. Griff would be their age.

Oh gosh, look at their faces. ‘What exactly set him off this time?’ ‘I dunno. It’s like a horse suddenly raging. Maybe a fly flew into his ear.’

Shhhhh, he’s just young. And cranky.

*strangled sobbing*

Excuse me as I interrupt this weekly Nanner Fish Liveblog to cry about the scenery in the next few seconds of footage:

You are such a liar, Ash. You have very particular feelings towards your home.

*cries more at sleeping cuties*

Ash... this feels like such a waste? Someone spent a lot of time brewing that! Couldn’t you have filled empty ones with water??

*cries more at the sky* Clearly what is gonna make me die of dehydration this episode isn’t what I thought it was gonna be. It’s gonna be the backgrounds.

Eiji... I know nothing about shooting but that looks super precarious. Your center of gravity looks... yeah. Ash looks so judgmental. Q vQ

Alright, Annie Oakley. You missed a shot too.

Oh, Ibe. Subtly trying to get Eiji away.

Not subtle enough, though.

*cries both over the words and the detail put into the sky and the sea*

I’ve always found this surprisingly profound, especially since my mother, a naturalized US citizen, has similar opinions about parents in Taiwan coddling their children. (Taiwan has the same age of majority as Japan, 20 years old.)

And Japan’s crime rate is also a lot lower. But Ash is right, Ibe, you aren’t in Japan and you have very dangerous people with very dangerous guns after you all.

Bless their attention to detail. Lookit the truck!

I love how they have Max fixing the truck! Instead of it getting magically fixed, we get a new tidbit about Max! I wonder if he learned this while serving.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeell...

When Max is the voice of reason, listen.

Yeeees! It’s finally here! Please forgive me as I spam gyazo and take a hundred pictures because I’ve been waiting for this!

*strangled dying manatee noises*

(Shorter, are you trying to steal Ash’s sandwich while you still have yours.)

(Look at that hand. You totally were, weren’t you. You glutton.)

(Oh, my tiny Grinch heart. Look at this smile. It just grew fifteen sizes.)

(*cries forever* Protecting Eiji is like preserving a vision of himself he could never attain. Putting Eiji on a pedestal and keeping him safe and clean and pure, because he wishes he was Eiji. Excuse me as I have painful flashbacks to Tsuki no Ko and Tirt’s love for Seth.)

BLESS THEM. MY HEART. THEY KEPT THESE LINES.

*sings softly* “I will whisper my name to you: Antonio Salieri: patron saint of mediocrities.”

So you’re keeping this bit but not the Visa part? At least Ibe is keeping some of his old manipulative tendencies when it comes to Eiji.

(”It’s the only way to keep that child safe.” Anyone’s Japanese better than mine who can confirm this is indeed Ibe continuing to view Eiji as a child that needs to be sheltered and not just a cultural barrier?)

And straight back into the coddling, right after the profound revelation.

Jimmy, please.

Tear him a new one, Eiji!

My heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeart. These two lines. Leave to me to die in this small sea of salt and tears.

Something I will always miss is the loss of Eiji’s poor English. Q vQ

Oh boy, get your tissues ready. It’s here.

(Afghanistan is replacing Korea, huh.)

(*dying manatee noises* Someone, save this poor child.)

(FUCK THESE OFFICERS WITH A CIRCULAR SAW. HOW DARE THEY. TO A CHILD. AN ABUSED CHILD. FUCK THEM.)

(*CRIES*)

(Let me spirit him away to a kinder, gentler world. Like GSNK. Or Kimi to Boku where it’s just boys sorting out their feelings.)

(I WILL NEVER FUCKING UNDERSTAND YOUR THOUGHT PROCESS FOR THIS BUT AT LEAST IT FUCKING SAVED ASH. AT LEAST IT SAVED ASH.)

(HE WITHOUT A DOUBT DESERVED WORSE.)

(THIS SICK BASTARD. CMLKDSMFLDSF.)

(I also super hate the way it’s presented in the anime, so take this small manga panel:

LIKE YES, IT MAKES SENSE, WANTING TO PROTECT YOUR SON FROM THE VICIOUS WORDS PEOPLE SAY SO YOU’D SEND HIM TO HIS AUNT’S...

BUT THAT ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT EXPLAIN OR EXCUSE THE SHIT YOU SLING AT HIM NOW, JIM. MY DUDE, YOU HAVE ALREADY LOST ONE SON. TRY TO SAVE WHAT RELATIONSHIP YOU CAN HAVE WITH YOUR LAST ONE.

Shorter. Shorter. He didn’t want anyone to know. He didn’t want anyone to ever know.

*dying manatee noises* Eiji... *strangled noises about leopards and mountains*

Jennifer, you beautiful soul. Why are you with this mess.

No, you listen to Jennifer!

Fuck.

No, Shorter. This is where he’s from. New York is his home.

Yes, good. Thank god.

You’re searching for Ash in the dark. Please take off your shades, Shorter.

Or not.

Shorter, you’re wearing so much more than you were originally in the manga. Q vQ

Look at that. Gorgeous even in the dark. *blows kisses at Mappa*

Good instinct!

Baaaaaaaaaaaad instinct. So bad.

Eiji, no.

He’s got his back pressed against the wall.

Dammit.

Listen to Shorter, Eiji.

They sure fucking did.

It’s so awful that they somehow managed to make this situation even marginally better.

They had ripped off her top in the manga.

It’s entirely possible they did worse. She doesn’t even have her shoes on. D8

Fuck you. Leave Jennifer alone.

*sweats nervously but also blows kisses at Mappa because hnnng I love the way they deal with lighting, lookit the soft glow of the porch lights*

Max has a plan. I love it when Max has plans. Brilliance or hilarity ensues.

JIM’S FACE. Either he just realized his son still loves him or he’s fucking terrified that his son is now in immediate danger. (I think it’s both.)

Oh, Jennifer. You deserve none of this. None of it. Protect her.

Brilliance. That’s what happens today. Brilliance.

FUCKING LISTEN TO SHORTER EIJI.

THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE BECAUSE IN THE MANGA I THOUGHT SHE TRIED TO COVER HIM. BUT THAT ACTUALLY DOESN’T MAKE SENSE SINCE THESE ASSHOLES MAKE IT CLEAR THEY AREN’T TO KILL ASH.

THEY SHOT HER TO MAKE A FUCKING POINT.

JENNIFER.

ASH’S FACE. Nope, this is fine. I was born from water, let me return to the salty depths.

THERE WAS NO ONE WORD YOU COULD’VE SAID THAT WOULD’VE MADE THIS FUCKING HURT MORE, ASH. *drowns in own tears of feelings*

Don’t fucking see why you’re smiling, asshole.

There, Shorter’s fixed it.

EIJI WHY ARE YOU HERE. SHORTER TOLD YOU TO STAY THERE.

*STRANGLED SOBBING*

YOU SHOULD’VE TREATED HER LIKE A GODDESS, JIM. YOUR LAST WORDS TO HER SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THOSE A GIANT TANTRUM THROWING CHILD’S.

Ash’s expressions are going to fucking murder me.

Sir, why don’t you have a cell phone???? Why aren’t you questioning why none of these people haven’t called yet???? (Well, to be fair, this is a panic situation...)

*sobbing* A father’s love.

And a son’s.

MY HEART. *cries* Why couldn’t you have both talked like this from the beginning?????????????????? JIM, YOU GIANT BABY.

Excuse me. I just need to... cry. Lots.

ASH AND HIS FACE. TELL THE POLICE. THEY ARE THE CULPRITS. MY MURDER.

*whispers* You should’ve kept this line to help explain the robbery. And help fund them in LA.

*weeps*

FUCKING DINO.

SO GORGEOUS. I AM SO UPSET.

HALF-TRUTH. ALSO, PLOOOOOOT.

LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

FUCKING NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

LEEEEEEEE. FUCK YOOOOOU.

Chinatowns are everywhere. |||orz

Fuuuuuuck. Yut Lung is here.

Shorter, please. Beggars can’t be choosers. (Or, those on the run from the Coriscan Mafia can’t whine when they at least have working transportation.)

*whispers softly to Mappa* Chicago, dearests, not Cicago.

Guess they’re cutting out one of the best scenes if this guy’s already here.

*blows kisses at Mappa* Gorgeous.

Still... where in LA are they supposed to be? I think that’s supposed to be downtown, but I don’t remember any forest-y areas around downtown. (Says someone who may live in LA county but rarely goes west towards downtown. Maybe there are. I tend to go east. :V)

The Great Shorter And Ash Chicken Raid.

You will not be forgotten.

Oof. Stay hydrated, guys! I’m kinda emotionally drained, so I’m off now. |||orz

<<Episode 5 Masterlist Episode 7>>

#Fandom: Banana Fish #Banana Fish #Nanner Fish Liveblog #spoilers #tw: spoilers

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