#not to forgive him at all. but to attend the funeral of the man who tried to defy voldemort. the man who was once a friend of his father. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whyse7vn · 1 year

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I’M SORRY -

[ ot7 x reader ]

JUNGKOOK -

jk: i’m sorry

jk: didn’t mean to make you upset :(

i hope i die

i should get jumped

barely survive

be on life support until i’m 50

and when i wake up die from the most painful heart attack recorded

i hope no one attends my funeral and i’m publicly and privately made fun of even after i’ve passed

hope my parents are ashamed and i hope that whenever the name jungkook is said people feel sick to their stomachs

i’m gonna throw up

gonna choke myself to death

i have the tightest grip on my throat rn

i’m going red

it’s fading to black

i’m sorry i wasn’t being a good boyfriend

tell bam that his dad was an asshole who didn’t deserve any rights

don’t even let him remember me as his father

i don’t deserve that title

i don’t deserve anything

not after what i did

burn all my clothes

delete all my pictures

tear my face off all posters

cross my name off all paperwork

i am not worthy of anything

y/n: shut up

jk: i’m sorry

y/n: i can tell

jk: i didn’t mean it

y/n: i forgive you

jk: really?

y/n: yeah

jk: do you really or are joking?

if ur joking it’s not a funny joke

y/n: you can come back home now

jk: really 🥺?

y/n: don’t ever use that emoji again

jk: sorry

i’m coming

omw

i love you

this is so great

y/n: you’re so dramatic

jk: i’m sorry

y/n: stop apologising

jk: sorry

i mean

love u

y/n: hurry up

jk: 🏃‍♂️

SEOKJIN -

jin: can you talk to me now

hey

i’m going to kms and it gonna be all your fault if you don’t reply to me

y/n: record it

jin: hey loml 😘😘❤️❤️❤️🤗🤗

WAIT WTF

THATS SO SICK?/?:£:££.&.&.&&.

y/n: what do you want?

jin: i love you ❤️💓🩷

y/n: bye

jin: WAITTTT :(((((((((((((((

pls

y/n: what

jin: i’m outside 🤭🤗❤️

y/n: stay outside

jin: am i a dog?????

DON’T ANSWER THAT

anyways

i’ve come to see you princess 😘❤️‍🔥

y/n: gross

go home

jin: i am home 🥺

y/n: ur at MY home

jin: tu casa es mi casa 😚

y/n: that is not how that phrase goes

jin: let me inside pookie it’s cold 😍

y/n: you should have a key if it’s ur house

jin: LET ME IN IM TRYING SOSOSOSO HARD

FUCK YOU

ITS COLD

MY HAIR IS WET

IM DISTRESSED

LET ME INNNNNNNN

y/n: it took you 3 minutes

to be an asshole again

jin: :((((

i really tried that time

i can’t help it

this is real this is me

i was born this way

you can’t change me

ur the asshole if we think about it why are you trying to change people?? let the world know you LOSER

y/n: fyi you can stay outside

jin: PLS NOOOO PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS

y/n: “pls” doesn’t really sound like sorry to me…

jin: I SAID IM SORRY

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SHOUTT

IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRYYYYYYYYYYY

i love you

this is kinda sadistic if you think about it

didn’t know you was a freak like that bae

it’s okay i kinda like it

how about you let me in now

or do you want me to beg more???

pls oh plsssss let me in 🥺

i’ll never be mean again i promise 😇

pls 😚

hello??

babe??????

fr this isn’t funny

hello

HELLO

OPEN THE DOOR PLS

HELLLOOOO

OMH

HELLLLO

pls

i’m fr sorry

i mean it like genuinely

hello

…

okay let’s stop now

…………..

HELLLLO

fuck you

HOSEOK -

hobi: this fighting stuff kinda boring now

….

hello

i’m sorry

BOOOO

:(((

y/n: you can’t just walk out the house mid argument

hobi: in my defence u were being mean

y/n: so were you???

hobi: ??

y/n: be honest are you fr gonna just leave like that when things get hard?

hobi: i mean i might

y/n: …

hobi: things were pretty hard

y/n: AS MAN OF THE HOUSE YOU SHOULD OF GOT RID OF THE SPIDER

hobi: AS A FEMINIST I LEFT YOU TO TAKE CARE OF IT TO HELP YOU FEEL EMPOWERED

y/n: fuck you don’t come home

hobi: i would never lie to u bae 🙏🏼

and i would never suppress a moment for a woman to feel empowered

y/n: don’t actually fucking speak to me

hobi: ily

cheer up baby cheer up baby

y/n: picked the wrong member

jungkook would of helped me

hobi: omg????????

are you fr?

y/n: would never lie to you bae 🙏🏽

hobi: ….

JIMIN -

jimin:

y/n: ???

jimin: are you still mad at me?

y/n: yes jimin wtf

jimin: do you want to have sex?

y/n: yes jimin wtf

jimin: love you

y/n: whatever

jimin: say it back

y/n: i won’t

jimin: you will

y/n: definitely will not

jimin: i’ll sing for you

y/n: no thanks

jimin: no thanks?

y/n: no thanks.

jimin: you say that like i’m bad at singing

y/n: eh

jimin: eh?

y/n: eh.

jimin: i won’t have sex with you

y/n: aw man

jimin: don’t sound too sad

y/n: ok

jimin: you should be

y/n: i’m not

jimin: i go crazy in bed yk?

y/n: that is the ugliest thing you have ever said to me

jimin: if ur not in love with me just say that

y/n: i won’t

jimin: so ur IN love with me is what i’m hearing

y/n: ur not hearing anything cuz we are messaging rn

jimin: can you just tell me you love me like a normal person?

y/n: you don’t deserve it

jimin: okay maybe that’s true

but you should do it just once

pretty pls with a cherry on top 🥺

y/n: i’ll punch you

jimin: maybe i’ll enjoy it

y/n: nasty

jimin: kiss me

y/n: where are you?

jimin: ur really gonna kiss me?

y/n: ur talking long to tell me where you are so ig i’m not

jimin: joon’s studio

y/n: maybe i’m omw

jimin: ur so in love with me it’s kinda gross 🤭

YOONGI -

yoongi: :3

y/n: die tbh

yoongi: :3

y/n: your stupid faces mean nothing to me

yoongi: :3

y/n: …

yoongi: :33333

y/n: i hate you

yoongi: :Ɛ

y/n: ew wtf how did you do that

yoongi: Ɛ:

y/n: stop omg

yoongi: i’m sorry :3

y/n: cool

yoongi: i’m fr :3

y/n: idc :3

yoongi: you used the face :3

ur not mad :3

y/n: ur logic is wrong

yoongi: bring the face back :3

and it’s not logic it’s common sense :3

y/n: ur wrong

yoongi: never been wrong a day in my life :3

y/n: that’s crazy

so when you shouted at me for no reason you weren’t in the wrong?

good to know

yoongi: okay i never said that :3

y/n: but you did

yoongi: ur being annoying :3

y/n: fuck you

DID YOU JUST SEND ME 10K?????????

yoongi: did i? :3

y/n: you can’t just buy my forgiveness

yoongi: i can’t? :3

y/n: this is not how relationships work yoongi

yoongi: this is how our relationship works :3

y/n: no it’s not

STOP SENDING ME MONEY OMG?:£:£:’

yoongi: :3

y/n: you are still not forgiven leave me alone

yoongi: unforgiven i’m a villain :3

y/n: SEND ANOTHER 10k AND UR GETTING BLOCKED

yoongi: ur making me real upset rn :3

y/n: go back to work

yoongi: stop being mad at me :3

y/n: die

yoongi: don’t say that i’m about to get on a plane :3

y/n: now i feel bad

yoongi: say sorry :3

y/n: nvm

yoongi: :(

look you’ve made me change faces hope you feel bad :(

y/n: i don’t

yoongi: ur sick and twisted :(

y/n: cry about it

yoongi: really hope i survive this plane ride :(

y/n: i will not be guilt tripped by you

yoongi: you told me to die knowing i was getting on a plane :(

y/n: bye

yoongi: what if i had a deep deep fear of flying and u made that fear 10x worse rn :(

y/n: you don’t

yoongi: you don’t know a thing :(

y/n: fuck you

yoongi: do you really want ur last words to me be fuck you :(

y/n: fly safe

TAEHYUNG -

y/n: no

tae: hiiiiiiii

wtf how did you know

y/n: blocked

tae: NONONONONONO

y/n: you have one minute

tae: i am walking alone rn

y/n: ???

tae: on the street

y/n: ok?

tae: alone

y/n: you said that

tae: ALONE

ALL ALONE

y/n: right

tae: it’s not right actually

ITS VERY FAR FROM RIGHT

i’m ALONE

do you know what could happen to me rn?

i could literally be snatched up off the street by anyone

y/n: hopefully it’s a rehabilitation centre 🙏🏽

tae: WHAG IS UR PROBLEM

IM ALONE ALONE ALONE ALONE

KIM TAEHYUNG ALONE ON THE STREET

WHAT ARE YOU NOT GETTING HERE?

y/n: ur one minute is up

tae: no it’s not

can you pls care for me rn i’m stressed out

y/n: it was pretty stressful when you stood me up yesterday

but i powered through 💪🏽

i’m sure you can do the same!!!

tae: that never happened

pls let’s pretend that never happened

i’m the perfect boyfriend i swear

y/n: get lost

like actually

never come back

tae: 😢

you don’t even mean that

y/n: are you sure?

tae: IM SORRY PLS PLSPLSSSSSS

forgive me

y/n: no

tae: you can have my card

y/n: don’t want it

tae: take my house

i’ll give you my keys rn

y/n: i have ur keys

tae: you do?

you thief omg

give them back

y/n: you left them here???

after YOU stormed out my house after you made ME upset

tae: oh yeah

i’m coming back now

y/n: asshole

tae: let’s put this behind us and move on

that’s a great idea i say

y/n: you are single

tae: don’t say that

y/n: said it

tae: we are actually engaged and expecting our 10th child

y/n: you are single

tae: top 10 singles

made a few of those in my time

LOL

i’m funny right

say i’m funny

y/n: it’s painful talking to you

tae: painfully in love with me are you?

y/n: it’s like i’m taking to a brick wall

you have like selective hearing

tae: what i’m hearing is you want to kiss me on the lips?

y/n: call an ambulance

tae: feeling so much love for me ur throwing up?

???

hello

maybe i do deserve this

NAMJOON -

y/n: would you now like to explain why the hell you sent halsey flowers on MY birthday??

namjoon: it wasn’t just on ur birthday i’ve been sending them all week for like a month now

y/n: namjoon what the fuck??

namjoon: i’m confused

y/n: UR confused????

do you like her or something?

namjoon: ofc i like her!

y/n: so ur cheating?

namjoon: what

y/n: ur cheating on me and you have no shame???

what the actual fuck is wrong with you??

namjoon: i’m not cheating?

y/n: for a month now you’ve been sending another girl that you like flowers

EVERY WEEK???

namjoon: every friday

y/n: fuck you

namjoon: i’m confused how that’s cheating when you told me to do that?

y/n: WHEN HAVE I EVER SAID “OH NAMJOON SEND OTHER BITCHES FLOWERS”

namjoon: you literally said you loved how halsey’s bf gave her flowers every week and that you wished i did that?

y/n: ….

there is no way

….

namjoon

oh my god

kim fucking namjoon

LMAOOSO ARE YOU FR?

namjoon: what??? i’m so confused pls tell me what i did wrong

i would never cheat on you

ur freaking me out

y/n: think about it

why would i wish you sent halsey flowers?

think

like really think

namjoon: IDK i was confused as hell but you seemed like you really wanted me to

so i did

y/n: i meant i wanted you to buy ME flowers you idiot omg

namjoon: oh

that makes a lot more sense

y/n: yeah

you are the dumbest smart man i’ve ever met

namjoon: my fault

i get confused sometimes 😞

y/n: i love you

namjoon: i love you too

ur not mad anymore?

y/n: could never be mad at you silly

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liquidluckandstuff · 11 months

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Drabble? oops

(Witch hunters torture Harry, Voldemort adopts Harry)

(Also this grew legs and i really just wanna write write this now? you know?)

Witch hunters were real.

They've hidden themselves well in the "real world" as they like to call it, though they have a healthy fear of wizards. They have long since abandoned any notion of eradicating the world of witches and wizards and have since focused their efforts to isolated cases.

Young muggle born children with wild magic who's parents think they are possessed, or children who are too disruptive for their parents to handle.

Used to be the hunters had "morals" but now they will take the money where it comes.

Thats how Vernon found them. For a large price, they promised to save his nephew from the corruption of magic. He knew better. Those who were saved by them never returned the same and that is what he was hoping for.

Harry wasn't a child anymore, but that didn't mean they weren't up to the case.

Vernon paid them extra to steal him away in the night. Cuffs with strange markings were locked on his wrists and upper arms that prevented him from accessing most of his magic, so he was helpless against them.

It was simple. They tortured him.

They beat him. Starved him. Locked him in a cell so small he couldn't even sit down. Harry was introduced to shock therapy and every time his magic reacted to defend him on instinct, they would shock him again until he was too tired physically, magically, and mentally to fight back.

They thought they had won, even Harry thought so for a time. Until deep into one of their whipping sessions, Harry started hallucinating Voldemort.

It had to be a hallucination, because he had never seen such a look of shock on the man's face before.

or fear.

The man did nothing to help him, just stared openly as Harry was whipped until blood ran down his back and he was begging for them to stop and asking for forgiveness for being such a burden to his relatives.

They called him their greatest success yet.

Harry went back to his relatives with deep burns from the cuffs on his arms and his cupboard now covered in the same strange markings that had bound his magic. The only magic Harry cast was hiding his new markings.

Living was torture.

Breathing was a chore.

Harry was too terrified to fight back when his relatives demanded more and more from him.

But his instincts never really died, that saving people thing of his.

He saved Dudley by casting magic and now he was in the second bedroom (his aunt was too scared that someone was watching them) clawing at his arms waiting for the punishment.

The order came to rescue him and soon he was standing in front of the ministry pleading his case to deaf ears until Dumbledore came to save him.

Why didn't he save him from the witch hunters?

Harry said nothing. He didn't talk about what really happened to him over the summer. Either they would call him a liar, call him weak for letting a muggle get the best of him, or at worse... they already knew and didn't care.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

Harry got a letter in the mail with nothing but a muggle newspaper clipping of an old reform school being burned to the ground with everyone inside. Harry recognized some of the victims. Why would someone do that?

Who knew what happened to him?

Who would do that for him?

Then, he was informed that his his last remaining relatives all perished in a house fire. Nothing of their bodies or home was left. Harry didn't even have to attend a funeral for them since there was no one liked them enough to organize one, and there was nothing to bury.

Harry knew who did it of course, but couldn't figure out why.

The question came of who would take care of the boy-who-lived.

The Weasleys eagerly put forth their name and so did the Malfoys hoping to impress their master.

But a third option appeared. A strangely familiar man , Thomas Gaunt, had proved his magical power, a long distance connection to the Potters, and enough money for the two of them to live modestly.

Of Course, Harry instantly knew it was Voldemort.

Harry was asked his opinion. "I love the Weasleys, and would like nothing more than to go live with them. I always begged to spend the summers with them, but have been denied due to my safety. And i'm giving that same reason now. They are not equipped to protect me for an entire summer. i would only be putting their family at risk. I know you don't believe Voldemort is back minister, but I do. Which is also why I refuse to go with the Malfoy's. I choose Thomas Gaunt."

The Weasleys were upset, clearly thinking Harry was put under some spell. But Harry, somewhat spitefully, reminded them that they had refused to take him in even when he begged again and again. They had a family to look after. To love and protect. And Harry was alone in the world.

Thomas Gaunt, Voldemort, took him away to a little house that surprised Harry with how comfortable it looked.

Before Harry even put his bags down, before he even began to delude himself that he wasn't about to die by Voldemort's hand, the dark lord took Harry's arms to look at his new scars.

He led him into the kitchen where he treated his wounds, and put new wrappings over them. Then, to Harry's shock, he removed glamour on his own arms and showed harry his matching scars.

"Never again." Was all he said.

_________

Voldemort said he had no expectations for him. Which stung a little. Harry had done so much to be so much so someone would want to take care of him. until it was too late, and now he was here with Voldemort.

But then, Voldemort corrected himself. He had no expectations of Harry, other than to take care of himself and do well in school. He ensured Harry completed his homework and it was done right.

He even taught Harry how to duel. Not in front of jeering death Eaters, but one on one and with patience. Harry flourished instantly and Voldemort even taught him more defensive spells.

Harry was waiting for the other shoe to drop so to speak.

Why was he being treated with kindness? he didn't know what to do with it when he didn't have to put on a brave face to practically beg for someone to love and take care of him.

He knew Voldemort didn't or couldn't love, nor did he care about him. So why?

Their relationship was... something. They didn't argue, Harry found it easy to do as he was told since Voldemort never made him do anything unreasonable.

Then, it was time to go to school.

Thomas Gaunt saw him off at platform 9 3/4 and Harry had never felt so awkward in his life. What was he supposed to do here?

He saw the Weasleys and the Order across the train station with both worried and relieved looks on their faces.

Thomas pulled him aside and said "I don't expect you to not preach about Voldemort's return, but I do expect you to keep my identity a secret is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And I expect you to keep your grades up. It's your O.W.L year after all..."

"Yes, Sir."

"And you will write to me every week."

"Sir?"

"We will keep up this pretense... and I want to make sure you are safe. I have never trusted the ministry and I do less so now."

"Oh.... " Harry looked over and the order seemed to be getting impatient.

"and Harry... Have fun."

"Oh." Harry said with surprised and found himself smiling softly.

Suddenly, he didn't want to go to Howarts. He wanted to go back to their little home where he was safe and comfortable and it was a little awkward, but he had no expectations or worries of the real world.

Maybe that was Voldemort's plan all along.

"If you would indulge me... " Thomas smirked, his eyes looking over to the impatient order. "While i would love to kill most of them, I wouldn't mind settling for pissing them off a little." He opened his arms slightly and Harry found himself find a piece of himself he didn't knew he was missing.

Everyone else got to hug their parents goodbye before they set off for school, and now he finally got to do the same.

Harry hugged him tightly. He buried his face in his shoulder and he had never felt more complete in his life.

"Have a good term. You are welcome to come home for the holidays if you wish."

Home.

He had a home. He had a family? At least someone who cared about him. About just Harry.

Even if it was pretend, it was better than he had ever experienced in his life.

As he pulled away and walked toward his friends, he held his head high and had a happy smile on his face. He couldn't wait to go home.

#Harry Potter #Voldemort #Drabble #Fanfiction #liquidluckandstuff #Harrymort #Tomarrymort #tomarry #Probably going to just be a Voldemort adopts Harry story

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anonymousewrites · 8 months

Text

One Hell of a Love (Book 2) Chapter Sixteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: One Hell of a Hire

Summary: The true surprise visitor is revealed, and the Phantomhive Manor attends Sebastian's funeral.

“Well, now that the Professor has gone, I shall see to luncheon,” said Sebastian, smiling with (Y/N) as if they hadn’t just scared a man out of his wits and threatened him.

“Wait,” said Ciel. “I kept silent because it seemed like you purposefully didn’t want to bring it up in front of him, but you haven’t yet explained how Phelps’s murder occurred.”

“Oh, quite right,” said Sebastian.

“In an interesting turn of events, Lau had the right idea,” said (Y/N). “We had a surprise visitor.”

“What?!” cried Ciel.

“Yes. While I was free to roam before arriving as Jeremy, I caught him and showed him special accommodations here,” said Sebastian, crouching and pulling a crate wrapped in chains from under the table.

“You did? Oh, good. After seeing his little friend, I thought I’d have to track him through the woods,” said (Y/N).

“The killer is in there?!” Ciel deadpanned.

“Yes,” said Sebastian.

“…Let me see what’s inside,” said Ciel.

“Are you sure?” said Sebastian.

“Don’t put on airs, open it!” commanded Ciel.

“Very well,” said Sebastian, breaking the chain and opening the box.

Two snakes lunged from the crate at Ciel, and (Y/N) caught them. Ciel jerked back in surprise.

“Well, they certainly still seem to hold some ill will against you,” remarked (Y/NN), holding the snakes.

From within the crate, a figure could be seen. (Y/N) nodded as their suspicions were confirmed, and Ciel’s eyes widened.

“Y-You’re Snake!” he exclaimed.

Snake, the circus performer, stood in plain clothes, bound in rope and gagged. He glared at the group sullenly.

“Why are you here?!” demanded Ciel as Sebastian removed the gag.

“The day after Black, Smile, and Cat snuck into the tents of Joker and the other first-stringers, they all went missing! It must have been your doing! -says Wilde,” said Snake. “So I followed the scent of Smile’s costume and went after him. -says Oscar. We found a townhouse, and two helpful men thought we were friends of Smile ‘Ciel’ and brought us here. -says Emily.”

(Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel deadpanned. Of course Agni and Soma had gotten it wrong.

“Those fools!” Ciel gritted his teeth.

“All the same, there is nothing we can do to rectify that now,” said Sebastian.

“Soma really is too friendly,” said (Y/N).

Ciel coughed and faced Snake again. “Uh, so, you’re saying they vanished because of us?”

“Yes! The minute you three joined our troupe, they all started acting strange! -says Wordsworth. I knew somehow that Joker and the others were hiding something from me.” Snake looked down. “But! They called me their comrade and their friend even though I looked like this. They said we were family. You stole them from me! I’ll never forgive you for that! -says Wilde.”

Poor thing. He had no idea what they were doing, thought (Y/N).

Ciel enlightened Snake. “Your circus troupe was kidnapping children one after another from each stop on its tour. We joined up with you to seize any evidence of those crimes.”

“Joker and the others were kidnappers…?” Snake’s eyes widened. “L-Lies! You’re trying to trick me with your nonsense! -says Oscar.”

“Nonsense? Perhaps,” said Ciel. “Before I could gather the necessary proof, my identity was discovered, and they disappeared. In that sense, I may had indeed stolen your peace away. But I also wanted to rescue the children who were suffering because of your friends.”

Sebastian and (Y/N) glanced at Ciel. So that was the story he was going with. Now that was a lie that could blow up in his face if it were discovered.

“Naturally,” continued Ciel. “I would like to rescue you as well.”

Snake watched in surprise as Ciel freed him. “What do you think you’re doing?! -says Wilde.”

“Young Master!” warned Sebastian.

“Snake,” said Ciel. He extended a hand. “Come to my manor.”

Sebastian and (Y/N) blinked.

“What are you saying?! -says Keats,” said Snake.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I would like to rescue you,” said Ciel. “Even now, we’re still on the hunt for Joker and company. Of course, I ask for the sake of solving the case, but…don’t you think that staying here would be the shortest route to seeing them again?”

Lies like these always end up causing trouble. (Y/N) narrowed their eyes slightly.

“Having lived with them in the circus, I know they’re not evil,” said Ciel. “They were nice to everyone they met and cheerful to boot. That’s why I want them to atone for their sins and obtain true happiness. All of them, including you.”

“Including me…” Snake’s eyes fell to the ground. He reached out and took Ciel’s hand.

“I never imagined you would install him in the manor,” said Sebastian as they left the greenhouse, leaving Snake to relax within.

“It’s better than setting him free and having him make attempt after attempt on my life,” said Ciel. “His ability to manipulate snakes seems like it might come in handy as well. Besides, I’ve been wanting a pet.”

“You lied to him,” said (Y/N). “Aren’t you concerned about the possible consequences?”

“If I continue the ‘lie,’ it will eventually become the ‘truth,’ ” said Ciel. “It’s just a matter of swallowing it all up in the end.”

“…Quite,” said Sebastian.

(Y/N) wasn’t nearly so convinced.

“More importantly, how do you explain yourself to the other servants?” said Ciel.

“Ah, yes, they don’t know I’m alive…” said Sebastian.

“I have an idea,” said (Y/N). They grinned. “And you’ll have fun, Sebastian.”

Inside a coffin, Sebastian lay still as Agni, Tanaka, Baldroy, and Finny carried him from the church to the grave. Undertaker stood beside the gravestone, for once somber, and Elizabeth held back tears until they bubbled over. Finny and Mey-Rin were already sobbing, and the tears streamed down their faces as the coffin was lowered into the grave and covered by dirt.

“Ciel!” She embraced him. “Sebastian is such a liar! He vowed he would never leave your side. How could he do this?!”

Soma grabbed him from the other side. “Don’t cry, Ciel! ‘Cos we’ll always be together, okay? Forever and ever!”

“Both he and I are truly fortunate to have people who care so much for us so much,” said Ciel. “Come, let’s return to the house.”

The group turned from the grave, huddled in a group of black.

Then the bell rang.

(Y/N) smirked but let Finny be the one to turn in curiosity.

“The bell on the headstone is ringing…?” Finny blinked. “But there’s not even a breeze.”

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” Undertaker chuckled. “Is this really any time to be cooling your heels? That bell ringing, why…it means he’s still alive.”

“Dig it up!” cried Agni, Finny, and Baldroy. They ran forward with the shovels they had just buried Sebastian in. Finny ripped open the coffin, and Sebastian sat up.

“Goodness,” he remarked. “I finally managed to get out of that. Everyone al—Eh?”

While (Y/N) grinned, Mey-Rin, Finny, Baldroy, and Elizabeth tackled Sebastian in a hug. They wailed and cried their thanks and worry over him as they refused to let him get out of their hold.

“Everyone, please calm yourselves,” sighed Sebastian, unable to escape the affection.

“Glad we went with a safety coffin!” chirped Undertaker.

“How lucky,” said (Y/N) brightly.

“This is a miracle!” cried Agni, crying in joy. “Oh, gods! I thank you!”

“Whew,” sighed Sebastian after he extricated him from the group and left them to cry for joy against each other. “What a relief to have fooled them with that level of shock tactic.” He glanced at (Y/N). “Though I believe you intended for me to be attacked.”

“With hugs? Oh, absolutely,” said (Y/N) brightly. “It was entertaining.”

“Sebastian.” Tanaka walked up to Sebastian. “I return this to you.” He pinned the butler emblem onto Sebastian’s tailcoat. “This is the proof that you are the butler to the Earl of Phantomhive. And right now, it belongs on your chest alone.” He smiled before turning away. “The butler of the Phantomhive family is not permitted to pass away before his master does. Remember that!”

“And so, Sebastian, from this day forth, you are my butler once more,” said Ciel.

Sebastian knelt and put a hand to his chest. ((Y/N) decided that although they had liked Sebastian leaning over them, him on his knees was nice) “Yes, my Lord. I shall devote myself wholly to serving you until the day when lies become truth comes to pass.” He smirked before standing. He paused and called to Elizabeth, “Oh, yes, Lady Elizabeth. Excuse me for my impertinence, but please allow me to correct you on one small matter.”

Elizabeth blinked. “Did I say something?”

Sebastian winked and put a finger to his lip. “I never tell lies.”

(Y/N) grinned. Sebastian was well and truly back.

“So, Snake is getting along with everyone,” said (Y/N). “What a relief after all that hard work.”

“If I recall, I was the one who had to die,” said Sebastian in amusement. He sighed dramatically. “And you shed hardly a tear for me.”

“Well, you weren’t dead,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes. They smirked. “What a pity for Earl Grey when he finds out.”

“Yes, I imagine he’ll be frustrated,” said Sebastian. He rather enjoyed the idea.

“After causing you all that trouble, he deserves it,” said (Y/N). “He was quite brutal with you.”

“And yet it still didn’t cause any grief in you,” sighed Sebastian.

“Again, you weren’t dead,” chided (Y/N). “And you can handle a bit of pain.”

“No sympathy?” Sebastian tilted his head and smirked. “You truly are a heartless demon.”

“Who taught me to be that?” said (Y/N). They sighed. “But if you insist upon me humoring you, then yes, I wouldn’t be pleased if you died.” They glanced at him. “You’re my only friend, after all.”

Sebastian paused, not anticipating the honesty. “You wouldn’t be pleased?”

“Sebastian, you know I wouldn’t,” said (Y/N). They loved him. To lose him would be unthinkable. “I mean, I didn’t like seeing you in a coffin. Demons like us don’t deserve to be placed in little boxes.”

“You didn’t enjoy your time in a coffin? Not ornate enough for someone like you?” said Sebastian with a smirk.

“I didn’t go in a coffin,” said (Y/N). “Remember? I burned to death.”

“Occasionally the humans still bury burned bodies, if I recall correctly,” said Sebastian.

“Oh, they made sure there was nothing left of me,” said (Y/N). Their gaze was far away for a moment, and Sebastian realized he had touched too far. They snapped out of it and smiled at him. “Anyways, better not to be stuck in a coffin. Who else would torment humans if I’m not here?” They turned away and walked to their chores, clearly not looking to speak more.

Sebastian watched them go. What was their human life? And what humans should I tear apart for daring to harm my love?

Taglist:

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@otomyoli

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kingluffy5 · 4 months

Text

Playing Detectives Pt 7 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

After investigating the Gates’ mansion Wednesday finds herself more alone then ever and Y/N contemplates how much he can trust those around him and how much they trust him, when Mayor Walker thinks he’s cracked the case he’s suddenly hit by a car, and after putting her friends in danger the Sheriff has forbidden Wednesday from investigating the case.

Last night in the hospital someone killed Mayor Walker, pulled out his breathing tube thingies, and I would bet my life on the theory of the person who ran him over was the one who killed him. Now everyone is in attendance at his funeral. It’s raining, me and Wednesday are sharing a black umbrella. Despite our fight it’s not my place to be mad at or to forgive her, it’s Enid and Tyler’s, we’re in a mature healthy relationship so we don’t fight over petty stuff like this. And also despite our fight we have a case to solve and a monster to hunt down, my chest still hurts from the wounds the monster gave me, but Wends’ stitches are holding up alright. During the night Wednesday discovered a music box that belonged to Laurel Gates which contained many pictures of her, I’m not saying I want a stalker taking pictures of me but it feels kind of inconsiderate that only she got stalked.

Me and Wends look over across all the people here, all the potential suspects. Bianca and the mayors son share some glances and Ajax is there for Enid, the Sheriff and his son look at each other.

All of a sudden a shadowy figure is hiding behind some trees, he runs off and me and Wednesday share a quick glance before we run after him through the trees. We lose sight of him and slow down, he then drops down behind us and Wednesday grabs the sword hidden in her umbrella and jabs it towards him.

He then holds the blade between the palms of his hands and he sends an electric shock through it causing Wednesday to quickly drop the sword.

“Still as sharp as ever, my pig-tailed protégé.” The man says, wait what, he knows Wends.

“Uncle Fester.” She says as she gives him a big smile. I’m sorry Uncle who now.

The man takes off his hat to reveal an incredibly bald head.

“Uh, hi.” I greet him.

“Who is this?” He asks.

“Y/N Barron, Wednesday’s partner.” I answer.

“Barron, oh I’ve met a few of you in my lifetime, whenever one’s around you know it’s going to be a good time. And might I inquire what kind of partner you are to Wednesday?”

“A few different kinds.” I answer causing him to laugh a little.

We start to walk through the foggy forest.

“How long have you been stalking me?” She asks.

“Just blew into town this morning and was hit by a wave of nostalgia.”

“I thought you didn’t go to Nevermore.”

“I didn’t. Your dad got all the brains, but I used to drop in on him. Usually from the ceiling with a dagger clutched between my teeth, just to keep him on his toes.”

“Of course.”

“He filled me in on what’s been going on. Monsters, murder, mayhem. What fun! I told him I had a job in Boston, but I’d be checking up on you.”

“What kind of job?”

“The kind that means that I need a place to lay low for a couple of days.” I love Wednesday’s family more every time I meet them.

Me and Wednesday take him over to the bee hives.

“This place belongs to a friend.” She informs Fester.

“You actually made multiple friends. That poor kid will be going home in a body bag.” Wednesday looks down in guilt and I do the same. “I like a hideout that comes with snacks.”

“Those bees are hibernating.” I tell him.

“They’re practically Eugene’s children.” Wednesday says.

Fester opens one of the hives to try and get one.

“That means do not eat them!” She yells at him.

He looks disappointed but puts it back while Wednesday glares at him.

“You know, when you give me that death stare, you remind me of your mother. Speaking of scary things, you know what kind of monster you two are dealing with?” Alright that was just hilarious.

“We haven’t been able to identify it.” Wends says as she shows him the drawing of it.

“It’s called a Hyde.” He says handing back the paper.

“As in Jekyll and Hyde?” I question.

“Hm-mmm.” He confirms.

“You’ve seen one before?” Wednesday asks.

“Oh yeah. In ‘83, during my vacay at the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane. Where I got my first lobotomy. But you know lobotomies. They’re like tattoos. Can’t just get one.”

“Tell us about the Hyde.” She cuts him off.

“Ah. Olga Malacova. Jeez, she had it all. Beauty, brains, and a penchant for necrophilia. Olga was a concert pianist, until one night she transformed in the middle of a Chopin sonata. Massacred a dozen audience members, and three music critics.”

“What triggered her? Or did she just change on her own?”

“No idea. I only saw her in group electro-shock therapy.”

“There’s never been any mention of Hydes in any outcast book. And Nevermore is reputed for having the best collection.” I point out.

“You guys try Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary?” He asks us. “Before he founded Nevermore Faulkner traveled the world, cataloging every outcast community.”

“How do you know this?” Wends asks him.

“You think your parents can’t keep their hands off each other now, oy vey. I showed up unannounced one night in Gomez’s dorm room. Let’s just say I wasn’t interrupting a pillow fight.” NO NO NO NO NO, I did not need to hear that now, I did not need to hear that ever, I need to pour bleach into my ear later so that way it will wipe this memory from my brain.

“Uncle Fester. The diary, where is it.”

“The Nightshade’s Library. Your dad parked me there and said I should settle in for a long stretch. And that’s when I found this nifty little safe, I was hoping for a stash of cash or jewels but instead I found a diary.”

“We’l sneak into the Nightshades Library tonight. In the meantime lay low. If you are discovered I will disown you and collect the reward tied to your capture.” Wednesday warns him as we turn to leave.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

After a second Wednesday barges back into the shed and shout at him to leave the bees alone.

— — —

Apparently Enid went to go find something from their room while she’s bunking with Yoko and they got into an argument, she ended up saying that Wednesday endangers everyone that she comes into contact with, which is honestly kind of true.

We are currently heading down into the Nightshade’s Library.

“Uncle Fester?”

“Who’s uncle Fester?” Xavier says appearing from the shadows.

“What are you doing here?”

“Since I’m an actual Nightshade, I don’t have to explain myself. What’s your excuse for creeping around in the middle of the night.”

“Research.”

“On the monster? I’ll save you two some time. There’s nothing in here matching that thing.”

“Isn’t that convenient.” Wednesday says.

“You know what your problem is Wednesday?”

“I would love to hear your piercing insight.”

“You don’t know who your real friends are. I’ve been on your side since day one. I literally saved your life. I believed your theories when nobody else did. And what do I get in return? Just nothing but suspicion and lies.”

“Fine you want honesty? Here it is. Every time the monster’s attacked, you’ve been right there. Starting with Rowan at the Harvest Fest. Then on Outreach day, you arrived just minutes after the monster disappeared, yet you say you didn’t see it.”

“I didn’t realize proximity was a crime.”

“Then there’s your drawing obsession. You have drawn the monster dozens of times yet you’ve never seen it. Or so you claim. You even drew where it lived. Then when Y/N and Eugene went to investigate, you tried to kill them so they wouldn’t spill your secrets.”

“You think I would hurt Eugene? Y/N, you think I would try to kill you?” He asks us, I remain quiet, I haven’t know what to believe over the past few days.

“Let’s not forget your oh-so-convenient appearance after Y/N and Tyler had been attacked at the Gates mansion.”

“If I am the monster then why haven’t I killed you?”

“Because for some reason I cannot fathom or indulge you seem to like me.”

“What’s to like?” He says.

“Dude just back off, she doesn’t owe you blind faith, she deserves to think for herself about who she trusts.” I tell him.

“And your problem, your a psycho. Be honest here, your not trying to stop this monster to avenge it’s victims or to bring peace of mind to their families, you’re just bored and want something interesting to do. You have no empathy, you don’t care about anyone, you are just as heartless as that monster.” He tells me.

This may have started as me being bored, but after Eugene got attacked this was personal. I care about him, he’s my best friend, I care about Wednesday and I don’t want to see her be the monster’s next victim.

Wednesday looks angrier then I’ve ever seen her. “He has to go through more pain then you will ever know.” She says spitefully, her words laced with venom and I smile at her.

She could be talking about my panic attacks, or she could be talking about her vision of me, what did she see, what was so bad that it would garner this kind of a reaction. I’m glad she defended me though, it’s nice to remember that she likes me too despite not showing it much.

With that Xavier leaves and Fester jumps down behind us.

“How long have you been lurking?” Wends asks him.

“Long enough to feel the tension between you guys. Yowza. Seriously, you could cut it with an executioner’s axe.”

Thing comes into the room and Fester hears him. “I’d recognize the patter of those fingertips anywhere. Hello Thing.” Thing taps angrily at him.

“You can’t still be mad about the Kalamazoo job. It wasn’t my fault.” With that Thing lunges at Fester and starts to choke him. “ You said you could crack that safe in 30 seconds. Five minutes later we were still standing there, you’re all thumbs.”

“Enough.” Wednesday says commandingly like a mother breaking up two kids. “Let him go. Show me the diary.”

Fester walks us over to a portrait of Ignatius Itt

“Here it is. Iggy was Faulkner’s right hand. Trained a generation of Nightshades. And behind Iggy Itt.”

“Wait you guys know Ignatius Itt?” I ask them.

“He’s my cousin.” Fester answers. Ok, cool, perfectly normal that my girlfriend is actually related to my personal hero, not like I am freaking out right now. Maybe Wends can introduce us.

“Do I have time for a snooze, or can you crack this quickly?” Fester remarks as Thing begins to try and crack the safe.

After a few times Fester says that this is turning into a replay of Kalamazoo. Finally he opens the safe revealing the diary.

— — —

We make our way back to Wednesday’s room as Wednesday begins to look through the journal.

“These are some sweet diggs. How’d you swing your own single?” Fester asks her.

“My former roommate couldn’t handle my toxic personality.”

She finally lands on the page about Hydes. “Faulkner describes Hydes as artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis. This causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator who the creature now sees as its master. It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose.”

“Artist by nature, doesn’t that sound like someone we know?”

“Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next-level sicko.” Fester says.

“That means we’re not looking for one killer but two.” I point out.

“The monster and its master.” Wednesday says.

Someone knocks on the door, me and Fester go to hide in Enid’s pile of stuffed animals.

Ms. Thornhill walks in and begins to talk with Wednesday about how Enid is going to room with Yoko for the rest of the year, how she cares about Enid, how she’s becoming a better person, and that she clearly misses Enid. Stuff like that.

“Uncle Fester, Y/N.” She shouts looking for us, he accidentally knocks over one of the plushies causing Wednesday to walk over and uncovers us.

“Hey! Being a solo lobo has its perks. You get to live by your own rules, do whatever you want. Just look at me.”

— — —

We went to Xavier’s shed.

While Wednesday distracted him me and Fester put a tracker on his bike.

“Did you two place the tracker?” Wends asks us.

“Don’t worry we got you covered.” Fester answers, handing her the device to track Xavier.

“Okay. Let’s hit the road.”

We walk over to the transportation Fester has arranged for us and reveals it to be a dog walking company’s motorbike with a Dalmatian pattern. We look at him for a few seconds.

“What? I picked it up on my way out of town. You know me. I like to travel incognito.” He hands us a couple of helmets with a matching pattern.

Fester drives the bike as Wends sits in the passenger car and I hold onto his back.

We follow Xavier to a secluded spot by the lake where a car is waiting.

Dr. Kinbott’s car. Kinbott’s the master.

— — —

Me and Wednesday go to Weems’ office to tell her about the doctor.

“Principal Weems, it is imperative we speak with you about Dr. Kinbott.”

“Wednesday, Y/N. We were just talking about you.”

“Speak of the devil.” Kinbott says behind us with a tray of tea.

“And she shall appear.” Wednesday says.

“Dr. Kinbott was just discussing your assessment Wednesday. I need to sign off on it before she can send it to court.”

“Well, what’s the verdict, Doctor? Am I cured?” She asks Kinbott.

“I’m glad you find it amusing. The judge assigned to your case won’t.”

“I’ve explained to Dr. Kinbott that you’ve recently been taking small but meaningful steps towards embracing your new Nevermore family.”

“Yes, I think I’ve actually reached the half-hug stage. I’ve been reading about hypnotherapy. It might be a good technique to unlock my inner Wednesday. Are you a devotee?” Babe I love you, but dropping hints that we know that a serial killer is a serial killer isn’t the smartest move.

“Yes, very much so. I applaud your new willingness to delve deep into yourself. We see each other on Monday, we can start then.”

“What did you so urgently need to discuss?” Weems asks us.

“It can wait, now if you excuse us we have homework to finish.”

— — —

Me, Wends, and Fester sit in the Weathervane to discuss our approach.

“Kinbott has to be Xavier’s master. The Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis.” I say.

Fester starts, I don’t know how to say it, drinking, chugging, slurping, the ketchup.

“Are you listening? She must’ve figured out he’s a Hyde and used hypnotherapy to unlock him. That would explain their secret sessions.” Wends says.

“I think the kid behind the counter has clocked me. Yeah, he’s walking over. I’m going to put him in a Romanian sleeper hold. Cover me.” Fester says referring to Tyler. Oh dear god, I would love to see that.

“Relax. He’s not interested in you.” Wednesday tells him. Cmon Wends, it would only have been a few seconds worth of Fester choking out Tyler.

“Uh, made you a quad. On the house.”

“Hey, thanks kid. Need a refill on this puppy too.” Fester thanks him. This man is my idol.

“Tyler, this is my uncle Fester.” Wends introduces right when Tyler started looking confused.

“Oh uh. Hi nice to meet. Ow!” He shouts as Fester zaps him chuckling.

“Is that?” Tyler asks recognizing the monster from when it attacked us.

“It’s called a Hyde.”

“That’s it, from that night.”

“Your father gave you explicit instructions not to be near me.” Wednesday tells him.

“Yeah, my dad’s not here and I’m on my break.”

“Well, apparently a Hyde needs to be unlocked by someone. It’s master.”

“Holy shit.”

“Tyler! What did I say?” The sheriff shouts from the entrance way as Fester disappears again.

“Uh. For the record Wednesday was trying to keep a distance. I was the one that sat down with her and Y/N.”

“All right. Putting these up around town. It’s a bank robbery suspect and he’s a real creep.” He says handing us a wanted poster of Fester. “You haven’t seen him have you?”

“No.” Wends says.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty hard to miss.” Tyler chuckles. “I’ll pin it on the bulletin board.”

“Barron, how’re the stitches holding up?” He asks me.

“They’re alright Sheriff.” I tell him.

The sheriff shakes his head at Wednesday before turning to leave. “Why do I waste my breath.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah your family’s very colorful.”

“Ironic considering Fester’s the black sheep. He’s harmless.”

“So about rescheduling our date.” I’m sorry, what?

“Between the monster and my uncle.” Yeah she’s busy, she doesn’t have time for dates, believe me.

“Hey, no excuses. Figure after what happened last time, you owe me.” That entire sentence was just one big red flag. Plus you got off light compared to me.

“I can’t sneak off of campus. All eyes are on me.”

“You won’t have to, I’ll come to you. 9:00 p.m., Crackstone’s Crypt.”

After that he goes back to work and me and Wends leave to head back to Nevermore.

“I don’t have to go.” She tells me.

“I know but I think you should go.” I tell her despite hating the idea.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know we’re pretty certain that Xavier’s the Hyde but until we’re one hundred percent sure, we shouldn’t rule out anybody else. I don’t trust Tyler and if we make him think you actually like him then we can keep him from knowing we suspect him. I reason.

She smiles the tiniest smile ever at that. “I knew there was a reason I picked you as my partner, for the case and for life.”

“And believe me Wednesday Addams, when this case is over I will take you on a lovely picnic date in a cemetery.” I tell her, causing her smile to grow.

— — —

While Wednesday is on her “date” Me and Thing are going to watch over the diary.

We are sitting around talking about random stuff, favorite movies, favorite books, opinions on Mondays.

“Look, I understand that you enjoy the consistency of hatred that Monday provides but I personally only find comfort in knowing a grumpy orange cat that enjoys lasagna agrees with me.”

Me and Thing argue a bit more before I go out to get a breath of fresh air.

I wonder how Wednesday’s manipulation of Tyler is going right now. Why did I suggest this plan, it’s stupid, damn it.

Suddenly the door swings open and a hooded figure barges in, before I can reach for my sword they stab me in my back several times and I feel a sudden pain in my head before everything goes black.

— — —

I wake up in the bee shed. Me and Thing are lying on the table both of us seemingly having just woken up. Wednesday seems like she’s about to cry and Fester is standing over us having used his shock powers to save us.

“For a minute we thought you picked your last lock buddy.” Fester tells Thing.

“Who did this to you two?” She asked us.

“They covered their face, it was my own fault, I didn’t keep my sword with me.” I answer.

“Cowards.” Wednesday spits. “I promise that whoever did this to you will suffer. An dit will be slow, long, and excruciatingly painful.”

Thing and Wednesday pinky promise on that before we do the same.

“I’ll stitch you two back up. They found your motorbike so the sheriff wont be far. You need to go.” She says getting up. “Maybe next time steal something a little less conspicuous.”

“Where’s the fun in that? All right I’ll lay low here tonight, keep an eye on Thing, and I’ll skedaddle in the morning.”

“I guess I’ll see you at your arraignment or the next family reunion.”

“You’ll always be my favorite Wednesday.”

“Be sure to tell Pugsley that. It’ll give him a complex.”

While she stitches the wounds on my back she notices my frown. “You’re sulking, more then usual.”

“Scars on someone’s back are their shame.” I answer.

After saying that she kneels in front of me. “I promise I will give whoever did this much worse.”

“I am sure you will.” I say smiling. We kiss and she goes back to stitching me up.

— — —

After stitching me and Thing up Wends went to go report her room being ransacked to Weems.

Turns out she knew of the monster being a Hyde and revealed that they were banned from Nevermore 30 years ago and that she didn’t tell the Sheriff to protect Nevermore. The two of them argued, noting really different from every other interaction they have.

We are now walking to our next class when Bianca walks up to us.

“Come with me. I have information about Mayor Walker’s murder.”

We walk with her down to the Nightshade’s library to find the Mayor’s son handing us some papers.

“Printed these off of my dad’s computer. Seems he was trying to track down someone. Laurel Gates? Looks like he started right after Outreach Day.”

“Must have recognized her there.” I remark.

“According to British police Laurel was presumed drowned, but no body was ever recovered.”

We look through the files.

“The gates mansion was purchased a year ago by a 90-year-old candy heiress. She then mysteriously died and gave all her belongings to her caregiver, Teresa L. Glau. It’s and anagram for Laurel Gates.”

“Laurel secretly buys her old house and then comes back to Jericho as someone else. Why?” Bianca questions.

“Revenge on all the people she blames for her family’s misfortunes. Your father. The coroner. My parents. Most of all, Nevermore.”

“How exactly does the monster fit into all this?” Bianca asks.

“The monster is a Hyde and it’s doing Laurel’s bidding. She controls it.” I answer.

“You know who Laurel is, don’t you?” The Mayor’s kid, Lucas that was his name, that was really bugging me shit, gotta remember that next time.

“Yes, but the real question is how are we going to get her to see us?” Wednesday asks.

“I may have an idea.” I respond.

— — —

“I’m sorry, you two want couple’s counseling?” Kinbott asks.

“Yes, despite how perfect it may seem our relationship has a few problems.” I say.

“Um. Okay, sit down, I guess. What seems to be the problems?” She asks us.

“He doesn’t appreciate my cello playing.” Wednesday said quickly. Okay I asked her one time through factime on Enid’s phone to keep it down because I was trying to sleep.

“She forgot to feed my pets the one time I asked her to.” I retort.

“He has an unhealthy obsession with anime.” She says. Unhealthy is a strong word, do I watch a lot of it yes, does it take up most of my time, yes, do I sometimes ignore other tasks to watch it, yes. Alright I might actually have a problem.

“She doesn’t tell me everything that I need to know.” This gets her attention.

“What?” She asks.

“The night Rowan died, when you touched my hand you had a vision. What was the vision Wends?” I ask her.

“It was nothing important, can we get back to our plan?” She asks referring to our plan to lure Dr. Kinbott into a false sense of security and tricking her into confessing.

“No, it’s about me isn’t it? What did you see?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Bullshit. What was it that has you so rattled that not even you are willing to tell me?”

“It wasn’t anything!”

“What was it Wednesday!”

“You’re going to die!” She reveals.

“What?” I ask hoping I misheard her.

“You die fighting the Hyde.” She says again.

I remain silent for a moment before sitting back down. “Ok.” I simply said.

“Aren’t you scared or angry?” Wends asks me.

“No, not really, I mean, I’d rather die fighting then being killed without putting up a fight. Besides I never really believed in fate or destiny to begin with, and if it comes down to a fight between me and the Hyde, I think I’d win, I got great swordsmanship skills and now that we’ve narrowed down our list of suspects then we can stop them before they kill me.” I explain. Honestly even if I die fighting, it’d be good to know that I died protecting everyone I care about and that I’d die as a hero.

“I think this is a little above of my pay grade.” Kinbott says nervously. Understandable, not every day you find out a teenager standing right in front of you is destined to die a horrible, brutal death. Also she probably wants to remain as far away from anything involving the Hyde since it was her who awakened it.

Wednesday gets up looking angry. “This is your fault to begin with. We know you’re Laurel Gates, we found this in your childhood bedroom.” She says handing her the music box from her bag. “You’ve come back to Jericho to seek your revenge. And so did Mayor Walker, which is why you had to kill him. Who better to slide in and out of the hospital undetected than a psychiatrist under the guise of visiting another patient?”

“Wends, what happened to the plan?” I ask. She really has a problem with just explaining to our suspects that we know that they might be killers.

“You’re not actually accusing me of murdering the mayor?”

“The roses you left in Eugene’s room were your mistake. They’re the same variety I found near your childhood bed.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“There’s only one reason an overqualified psychiatrist like yourself would settle in the inconsequential backwater that is Jericho. It allowed you to crawl through the troubled, young minds of outcasts until you found one that you can manipulate to exact your revenge.”

“You know what. I don’t have time to deal with your delusional fantasies. I have a patient emergency.”

“Who? Xavier?” I ask.

“We know all about the secret sessions you’ve been holding in your car. I also found the cave where you’ve been holding sessions to unlock his Hyde.”

“And even if you guys aren’t the killers, it’d still be kind of weird that you hold sessions in your car.” I point out.

“You are so out of line.” She tells us.

“Do you know hoe violently unpredictable a Hyde can be? It was your plan to have Xavier committed before he could turn on you too.”

“Wednesday, Y/N, you two need help. More help than I can give you.”

She reaches for her phone. “Who you calling? Xavier?” Wends asks.

“Judge Reynolds. I’m going to recommend that you two stay in a juvenile psychiatric facility for observation.”

“Oh, please. We all know that we’d be running that place in a week.” Wednesday says. “Times up Laurel.”

We both leave the office.

— — —

Me, Wednesday, and Weems are sitting in the Jericho ER. Turns out Kinbott just got attacked by the Hyde while calling Weems to talk about our recent visit to her office.

The Sheriff comes out of the room and walks up to us.

“She’s gone. Dr. Kinbott’s dead.” He tells us.

“This ends now.” Wednesday says dramatically.

We both leave the hospital.

— — —

We both go to Xavier’s art shed with an ambush planned. Wends waits inside for Xavier while I hide outside with the cavalry.

We can hear faint talking inside when Xavier goes inside as he and Wednesday argue about the case.

The Sheriff and I barge in seeing Xavier holding a knife.

“Freeze. Drop the knife. Down on your knees.” He says arresting Xavier. “Cuff him. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you. Appreciate the help Addams, Barron.

“You framed me! I shoulda let Rowan kill you.” He shouts at us as he gets dragged out by the cops.

— — —

Me and Wends go back to her room to find Enid putting all her stuff back.

“Hey.” She greets us.

“You’re back.” Wednesday says.

“I’m gone for a few days, the place gets trashed, and Thing and Y/N almost die. Someone’s gotta look out for you guys.”

“What happened to rooming with Yoko?” Wednesday asks.

“Yoko’s great. I just decided I needed a few more boundaries.”

Enid starts to put down a line of tape to separate the room in half which is apparently something they’ve been doing.

“Skip the tape.” Wednesday tells her.

“Don’t tell me Wednesday Addams is mellowing out.”

“Never. More like evolving.”

“Well, one inch of duct tape at a time.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because we work. We shouldn’t but we do. It’s like some sort of weird, friendship anomaly. Everything you’ve said about me is true. But I don’t apologize for it not anymore. It’s just who I am.”

“Thing said he missed you.”

“I missed him to. I’m sorry about Xavier.”

“We’re not. He’s a liar and a killer.” Wednesday says

“Besides there’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right.” I say as me and Wends smirk at each other.

“OMG, I ship you two so hard. I was honestly expecting you to get with Tyler at first but you two just work so well together.” Oh shit, right, Tyler.

“I still need to tell him about us and how he and I won’t be together.” Wednesday says.

“Well I heard he’s working the late shift.” Enid says.

“Alright, you go talk to Tyler, and I’ll leave so you guys can catch up.” I say before leaving.

— — —

I make it back to my room. I feed my pets. I lay down on my bed.

I look over to Eugene’s empty one. “We got him buddy. I can’t wait for you to come back.”

I start to contemplate the future. Now that the case is over me and Wednesday can go on a few dates, the Nevermore Hummers can get back to it’s usual routine when Eugene get’s back, Wednesday’s made peace with both Enid and Bianca. Everything feels perfect. It’s never felt this way before. Why does it feel like this won’t last, I’m probably just being paranoid but it feels like there’s one piece missing.

Suddenly I get a text from Enid, or at least Wednesday using Enid’s phone. When I read it I’m shocked, it makes so much sense yet I can’t believe it.

Tyler’s the Hyde.

#wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x male reader #wednesday oc #the addams family

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dorcasmeadowesirl · 5 months

Text

our secrets laid bare

Chapter Two of my Dorcas!Survives AU. I wanted to post both because it's short AND it's more fun this way. And I need to be held accountable.

Chapter One here! Tell me your thoughts!

Chapter Two

It had been fifteen years since Dorcas had apparated and still, it was fifteen years too soon. No matter how tightly she clung to Dumbledore, she still felt the squeamish, throw-up feeling that you cannot really prepare yourself for. When she started to make sense of her surroundings, she realized she was in a house she’d never been in before.

“12 Grimmauld Place, the Black family home. Sirius and the Order converted it into our new Headquarters. We should head toward the dining room, I’m sure they’re expecting us to enter at any moment.” Dumbledore said, then noticing the way Dorcas tensed up at the idea, took her hand and squeezed gently. “You go on now, I’ll be just a moment.”

And like that, Dumbledore seemed to just disappear. For as much as Dorcas respected him, she did loathe his inability to navigate difficult conversations.

Anxiously, Dorcas walked forward and stood outside of the door. Behind it, she could hear the hustle and bustle of a meeting. Sirius, a voice Dorcas never thought she’d hear again, was arguing about Harry. Another voice quickly spoke over him, she couldn’t quite identify it – Molly Weasley, perhaps? Sirius had begun to argue again, but was silenced when Dorcas entered the room.

The silence was deafening. The faces that looked back at her, some familiar, some not, all filled with mutual horror. As far as they were concerned, Dorcas was a ghost. A gravestone, left unvisited and forgotten for years.

“Remus, Sirius, Severus.”

The beauty of being one of the first to “die” in a war is that you spare yourself the pain of seeing a funeral. Looking at these men now, she knows from the pain in their eyes that they grieved her, attended her funeral, buried her.

In their school days, Remus was really the first person who saw Dorcas as more than some label – she was not a Slytherin, “half-blood”, or “blood-traitor”, she was his friend who he described as being ‘smart as a whip’. In truth, if Dorcas could have half as much strength as Remus, she wouldn’t be standing in front of them now – rather, she’d be sitting among them at the table. Severus was good to Dorcas, despite their differences in their final years. They were friends, hell – almost family. She wondered how her mother must have felt, then, noticing that Severus did not attend her funeral. As for Sirius, there were no words for what Sirius was to her. Perhaps a nuisance, but a loving one nonetheless. She’d gone years seeing him as some kind of villain, traitor, but now, she saw a child trapped behind the eyes of a man – years of his life stolen by his own best friend. These men made Dorcas who she was, she fought that war because of them, for them, with them.

Yet, standing in front of them, she felt more like a stranger than a friend.

“How? How is it that you’re here?” Remus started, standing from his seat, eyes never leaving Dorcas’. Silence filled the room after, Dorcas was struggling to find her words and all of the eyes on her didn’t help. Foolishly, she didn’t expect them to exactly be welcoming with open arms, but she felt like she was on trial. How could she fit 15 years of hiding into a single explanation? How could she describe that cursed night, when she unknowingly caused the death of the love of her life? How could she begin to untangle the threads of guilt? How could she ask for forgiveness when she felt so undeserving?

Sirius spoke then for the first time, “We buried you. We carried your casket.” It was clear that he was angry. And he had all right to be, but Dorcas deserved the chance to explain.

“Well, the night that Voldemort-” she started, noticing a wince or two around the room, “I’m sorry, He Who Shall not be Named, when he came to-, to kill me, he meant for me to be tortured and murdered by his hand. At that point in the war, I’m sure you all can remember I was adamantly working on identifying his weaknesses so that he could be killed. I suppose I came too close.”

“Before he could, um – before he could succeed, Dumbledore was warned. He came and grabbed me. There was no chance to explain or tell anyone” Dorcas choked out, struggling to control the shaking within.

Suddenly, Sirius broke out in laughter. Maniacal laughter. “What next? Will you tell us that he killed the McKinnons because of you? To find you?” Remus, trying his best to get a handle on Sirius, reached out to touch him but Sirius flinched at his touch. Dorcas could say nothing in response. That alone was all Sirius needed.

“No,” he said, slamming down his glass and rising from his seat, “This is foolish. I won’t hear another word of it.”

As he moved toward the door, Dorcas began to stammer. “No, no, wait-” she began, she wanted to reach out and grab him. She wanted to try and console him, to embrace him in a hug that she long dreamt of. Yet, she felt stuck in place. It wasn’t her place anymore, her place had long been buried under six feet of dirt and fifteen years of regret.

“As far as I am concerned, you died to me the day we put you in the ground. To me, that is where you will stay.” he spat, shoving past Dorcas and slamming the dining room door.

Dorcas, who had previously never allowed anyone to so much as slightly raise their voice at her, could only sob in response. Remus rushed to her side and engulfed her. At that moment, no time had passed between them. They could’ve been their school-aged selves again, hugging after being separated for only a summer. Remus sobbed into her, clinging onto her as tightly as he could.

“I don’t care,” he said, crying softly “I don’t care what prevented you from coming back. You’re here. You’re here now.”

Remus was an angry child. And who could blame him? His anger lived in him, within him, defined him. A part of her knew Sirius would be angry, but a part of her was convinced that Remus would be, too.

Sirius was not wrong, they buried her.

And they buried Marlene.

And they buried James.

And they buried Lily.

How does that kind of loss not make you angry, bitter?

But as she held him now, the anger, the bitterness, the years and years of isolation was expelled from him. She may not have been Lily, or James, but she was Dorcas and she was dear to him. She would not walk out of that door again. Remus had lost so much, he couldn’t bear to be angry anymore.

“I can’t imagine that Mary will be as forthcoming.” Dorcas jokes, her face still buried in his shoulder. She felt as he tensed, turning her stomach within an instant.

“Mary’s gone. Not gone. Just not here. When Lily and James….she tried to stay. She just couldn’t. I-I wasn’t much help. I couldn’t convince her. I’m sorry, Dorcas.” he stammers out, gripping her tighter, as if she’d run for the hills and never return.

Well, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to. Mary MacDonald was the brightest star in any room, a face you’d look for in any crowd. Her laugh was infectious, but she was to be feared in her own right. She could duel against the best of them, fail a few times, but end up triumphantly standing on the chest of her opponent, pulling them up and asking for another round. Mary, gone? Not dead, but gone?

It isn’t a terrible fate. Dorcas spent fifteen years alongside Muggles, drowning herself in their monotony. Some days were doable, others made her feel insane. And Mary, ever loyal to her family, would have had no issue simply assimilating back to “normalcy”, if she could ever experience it again. Dorcas wanted to be mad, but she’d be a hypocrite.

“Pity. I’ll miss her greatly.” she said, but the words felt wrong. Mary was someone you never had to miss. She was supposed to be here. Remus pulled away, turning their attention to the table.

Severus sat still, emotionless. “Meadowes,” he said, “pleasure of you to join us. Take Black’s seat. Our meeting was all but over and I do not believe he will rejoin us tonight.” Dorcas could not read his face. He was the only one who had not reacted to Dorcas and that alone, terrified her.

“Yes!” spoke Molly, breaking free from the spell of awkwardness that held the room, “Sit, please! You must be hungry, I’ll see to it that you eat.” she said, pulling out a chair that was not Sirius’, but next to her. Remus excused himself to “retrieve” Sirius, and Dorcas sank down into her chair. The conversation had reached a dead end with her arrival and though they were all adults, Dorcas had felt as small as ever. Molly excused herself to the kitchen and her husband, Arthur, followed after.

“Dumbledore has informed me that you’ll be taking the Arithmancy post this fall, is that correct?” Severus spoke, finally making eye contact with her. A smile took over Dorcas, “Yes, I’m rather excited. I was always fond of Arithmancy, you know.” she said. Unexpectedly, Dorcas saw a smile fall over Severus’ face in a way that made her feel young again, as if she’d just been fussing with him and Lily in the library. The way his smile lifted to his eyes made Dorcas wonder if they’d shared the same flash of memories, days where it felt like they’d never not know everything about each other.

Dorcas, being a Slytherin of less desirable blood status and filled with every intention to defend herself when she saw fit, made herself a bit of an outcast. She lived by the idea that to be loved, one must first be feared. So, she made sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever feel comfortable questioning her. It made her enemies. But, it also made her friends. Lily Evans was one of those friends. In her later years, everyone would remember Lily as warm and loving. But Dorcas knew a side of Lily that not many people knew. Lily did not just want to be good, she wanted to be great. For as kind as she was, Lily was smart. Smarter than many would come to give her credit for. She respected Dorcas’ tenacity. Her blood status simply didn’t matter – you’d speak to her as an equal or not at all. Anyone who stepped up against her came to understand why nobody else did it. Dorcas was feared, but more than that, she was respected. And in spite of that, she was good. Lily insisted that Dorcas was the exact kind of friend Severus needed. So no, Severus and Dorcas never immediately got on. But Severus needed Dorcas. He never had a sibling, but he always had Lily looking out for him. Over the years, there were times where Lily couldn’t save him. And there Dorcas was, like the sister he never had – watching over her shoulder, speaking but never really being heard by him. Severus was stubborn, but so willing to be stepped over, disregarded, and ignored as a means of survival. Instead of embracing what was different about him, he admonished it. Dorcas saw through him, pushing him to be better, to hold himself to better. When he fell in line with the “wrong” crowd, Dorcas saw through it. They were bullies. What better way to face your own bullies, than to become one? To tell the world you aren’t scared, when you’re terrified? Fake it.

Severus was a fraud. He said things he didn’t mean. Terrible things, as if they would take away everything that made him less. Even now, people can’t see behind his cold exterior, his desperate grip on survival. Dorcas knew him and he hated it. Sitting across from him now, she still felt an affection for him, a desire to soothe that scared little boy in him. Losing Lily, losing her, it hurt him, and though he won’t admit it, Dorcas knew. And Severus hated that.

Dorcas made little conversation and excused herself to her earliest convenience. There seemed to be ghosts in every face and corner she turned, so she began to miss Jane. Right about now, Jane would be curled up with Misty, tea and book in hand. Suddenly, she found herself deeply concerned with the state of her cat, Misty. She’d never asked Dumbledore where her bags were. She’d never asked Dumbledore anything.

She began to wander the house. Though it was late, voices could be heard in every room. Dorcas called for Misty as quietly as she could and eventually, a flash of orange came crashing out of a room, followed immediately after by Misty, followed by a bushy-haired girl.

“Crookshanks, no!” the girl yelled, storming right past Dorcas and chasing the cats down the stairs.

#dorcas meadowes #the marauders

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dmagedgoods · 1 year

Note

monkshood - an enemy approaches (go deal with them, Sal)

Ohh another great prompt! 12. monkshood - an enemy approaches ~ Funeral Flowers – Part II (to Part I) (to Part III) The main part of the ceremony had come to an end and he left the gallery before any of the attendants could engage him in a conversation. He would participate in the evaluation, exchange of grand stories, and self-presentations later. For now, he needed to find Daeran. Instead of returning after a moment alone and apart from watching eyes, he still was missing. Salvadore cursed himself while he went through the city hall’s corridors, his steps echoing along the high ornamented walls. Instead of allowing him to flee the situation, he should have followed him right away. No matter how determined he tried to hide it, he knew of his suffering. Maybe he had gone to the banquet hall. All of Mendev’s aristocracy started to gather here and giving himself to mindless celebrations always had been Daeran’s way to numb and shove away any sort of lingering pain. “Salvadore. What a pleasure to meet you here.” Surprised, he turned around, his expression unreadable. He had no time right now and definitely not for the owner of the stilted voice and his pointless little provocations. “Lord Mechita,” he greeted the man approaching him, formerly part of the royal council before him and Daeran had rearranged its structures and recast its members. “I suggest you remember your manners. It’s ‘Commander’ or ‘Lord Arrigo’. “A lord you say … You must forgive my confusion. Rumors tell a different story.” Salvadore’s face grew icy. “And the queen who appointed you commander …” He shook his head in staged grief. “is dead. I’m brokenhearted that you have to hear it from me, but opinions get louder in Nerosyan that you’re taking greater liberties than hindsight allows, opinions speaking of a foreigner and furthermore a man whose relationship to his noble family and own heritage are …, forgive the phrasing, highly questionable, who never finished his attempt to rise within the ranks of the order of the sword due to a failed test, someone with no title or official military rank in Mendev … Not a lord, not a cavalier, and surely not a commander.” Mechita had searched in his past and probably found contacts in Absalom able to tell him more. He hated to be reminded of his family and the test manipulated by his cousin, but he knew the game his opponent wanted to play quite well. His posture was calm, his voice low when he stepped closer. He spread his wings. “Are you sure, Turan Mechita, that you’re prepared for the battle you insist on? You may mistake me for a mere man.” His halo started shining, bright enough to fill the corridor with holy light. “But I’m so much more, blessed and legitimized not only by my stand or by my education but by Heaven itself. No one will be blind enough to doubt or overlook my integrity, my support here in Mendev, Absalom, Laswall. Or the long list of my accomplishments.” He let the halo disappear and folded his wings behind his back again. “But you are a free man - free to make a move and lose the rest of the credibility you still have left after your failure in the royal council.” Mechita finally remembered to close his mouth. “And still you’re nothing but an imposter!” he hissed, but didn’t sound nearly as secure as before. With that, he turned around to quickly leave the corridor. “You should have burned him to ashes,” an observer commented from behind. “It would have been a glorious bonus to this quite satisfying finish.” “I prefer to watch him run. This way he gets to enjoy the echo of his embarrassment for a while longer.” Daeran stepped next to him. “Well, I have to admit I start to see the appeal.” This wasn’t the moment to wonder about the true core within Mechita’s words, not the moment to allow them to mix with his own doubts and self-recriminations. But no matter how much he did, no matter how hard he worked, he never had gone the long and designated path. He had skipped so many stairs, and there always would be people to point it out. His hands clenched into fists. The cruel little voice was back in the deepest corners of his mind: You needed to let her die to truly gain power. He looked to Daeran, searching for words, but he already turned to the door leading to the banquet hall. “I highly hope the rest of the festivities will be more entertaining than the beginning.”

#pathfinder wotr #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #my ocs #my writing #dmagedtexts #knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #flower prompts #funeral flowers #thank you!#💕#this was fun!

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sojutogo · 2 years

Text

soulmate au:

There was a time when Wonwoo saw nothing but shades of white and gold every single year.

Bands glittering underneath the Tuscan sun or flowers softly swaying under a canopy of red woods, the scent of earth clinging to his shoes at every step. Where the revelry went for hours and hours on end and the wine flowed like a fountain as shrieks of laughter broke the night air and made it warm. He also remembers swaddles of cloth and love held in the arms of his friends, of rosy-cheeked babies and long afternoons rolling on hills and picnics underneath the trees.

And then like the changing of the seasons, of summer bleeding into the cold winds of fall until the harshness of winter surprises him one morning when he least expected it, an ocean of black and somber white was all he could see—of umbrellas held under the rain and cold headstones. The scent of earth clinging to his shoes smells like mourning.

Not everyone lives forever.

The heart, at some point, grows old with weariness and succumbs to resignation as its other half remains lost—a boat untethered to its shore.

Wonwoo will watch friends turn old and grey, skin withering until he gazes into their milky eyes and realize that recognition has long passed and they remember nothing of their nights of revelry when the wine flowed and the laughter went on until morning.

Wonwoo makes sure to attend every funeral as an apology—all sixty-five years worth of it.

The butler had already prepared his suit by the time Wonwoo dropped the call. He does not know if he wishes to praise his efficiency or to worry about how they have established a routine with how often Wonwoo receives calls like he just had these days.

It feels like the grim reaper is also calling for him.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo slips the suit on—he used to have a favorite but as the years passed, the threads began to fray and Wonwoo had to call for a new one. He thinks he likes this one best, it's simple and it will be easier for him to blend with the crowd later.

Wonwoo had never liked drawing attention to himself.

“I'll pick you up after, Sir?” His butler asks, a tall blond man who does not look a day over eighteen but has worked for Wonwoo for over twenty-seven years. He has a silver band on his finger and his hands are smooth and pale—some are lucky to have found their soulmate so young and stay frozen in youth, forever.

And is that not one's ultimate desire?

Countless tomes of literature and reels of films have spoken about humanity's search for the fountain of youth, for the elixer that cures old age and sickness and lets the beholder stay young for all of eternity.

But Wonwoo had come to realize that these are nothing but products of souls who have not found their own souls, the chattering of mad men in the dark or the drunken conversation from one bottle of spirits to another.

A hidden desire, a prayer to the lost gods.

“No need,” Wonwoo replies as he slips inside the back seat of the car, bringing his wrist in front of him to check the time. “I'll be fine.”

His butler steals a look on the rearview mirror for a second, kind understanding in his eyes, before he nods and they drive off.

The funeral this time is quick and only attended by a few friends and family.

Wonwoo sees some familiar faces during the service and he chances upon Seungcheol once the casket had been lowered and Wonwoo had finished offering his respects to the family.

“Leaving already?” Seungcheol greets him, face just as cherubic as Wonwoo remembers when he first met him in college, fourty-three years ago. “You haven't even said hello to the gang, yet.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at Seungcheol's fatherly tendencies but he supposes it's warranted. Seungcheol is the oldest friend Wonwoo has ever had.

“I'll see all of you at dinner tonight anyway,” Wonwoo replies as they walk side by side on the grassy lawn of the cemetery. It's a shame that most of New York's greeneries are found here.

“Forgive me if I wish to spare myself a few hours of peaceful sanity.”

“Dramatic as always,” Seungcheol scoffs as he folds the umbrella he had been carrying earlier when it started to drizzle. “They're not that bad.”

Wonwoo shrugs as he focuses his gaze on Seungcheol's side profile, “What? Don't they tire you?”

The older is quiet for a minute as they simply walk in companionable silence.

When you have known someone as long as Wonwoo has known Seungcheol, there is no need to fill every meeting with conversation—Wonwoo knows enough as much as Seungcheol knows him enough. Understanding each other was just as inherent as breathing, Wonwoo thinks there was no else in the world that he knew him in the way Seungcheol did.

Eternity is often lonely as Wonwoo had come to realize but he's glad he will always have a familiar face to go back to.

“I think funerals always had a way of shocking me back to reality despite having lived this long,” Seungcheol starts. “It's a cold reminder to me that not everyone has a lot of time, not everyone is like us.”

Immortality was conditional: a person stops aging only if they meet their soul mate. No one knows how this rule came to be, the gods have long refrained from answering prayers and neither history offers any answer. It simply just was and that is how they came to be.

Yet despite such premise, they could still die. Old age will not touch them, not even if they grow as old as the mountains that once were piles of rocks and seas that once were barren with water. But Death has other ways to announce its arrival because after all, the heart is also a fragile, fragile thing.

Heart break was his favorite harbinger.

Sometimes meeting your soulmate does not mean the guarantee of forever. Sometimes differences do not work out even if their destinies have been written in the stars.

Stars after all, no matter how bright they burn, die.

So does love.

Human beings are fickle creatures and love becomes arbitrary when the years stretch long enough for it to simply be not enough.

“Good, now you're reminded to start my funeral preparations.”

Wonwoo gets nothing but a dead-eyed stare in return for his cheek.

“Do you still honestly believe you haven't found him?"

Him.

How was Seungcheol so sure?

“Of course,” Wonwoo scoffs, shrugging away the disbelief in Seungcheol's eyes. “I have been feeling old age in my bones lately, my joints hurt when it rains.”

Now, it's Seungcheol's turn to roll his eyes.

“You do not look like you've aged since the year we met,” Seungcheol replies, sounding like he's trying to explain a basic concept to a five year-old (Wonwoo knows, he's been around Seungcheol's kids for dinner long enough) when he had already explained it earlier but has to do it again.

Wonwoo does not think he appreciates the sentiment.

“Maybe you're the one getting old,” Wonwoo squints. “Don't you see my wrinkles?”

Seungcheol throws his hands up in the air in a whatever gesture and simply walks away with his back turned against Wonwoo, the picture of defeat. There's a car waiting for him at the curb and Wonwoo does not have to guess that Jeonghan is the one behind the wheel.

Late for every single thing unless it involved Seungcheol.

Mingyu as the eternal host of honor had figured that if he wanted their dinner parties to start on time, Seungcheol was the one to ask and not Jeonghan if they were going to make it.

“Don't forget dinner, grand pa!” Wonwoo calls after him and Seungcheol simply shoots Wonwoo the bird as his figure retreats even further until Seungcheol finally fades out of sight.

Despite Seungcheol's frustrations, Wonwoo still finds a reason to laugh at his old friend's antics. He know understands where Hyunbin got her moody tendencies.

"Well," Wonwoo sighs as he fishes for his phone, "Looks like I don't have a ride home after all."

"Why? Too old to walk home, old man?"

Wonwoo spins around, phone halfway raised to his ear as another (unfortunately) familiar face comes into view.

Wonwoo's mood immediately dampens.

“What are you doing here.”

“I'm attending a wedding,” Soonyoung hums, his tone adopting the sarcastic one he always has when he's within the hearing vicinity of Wonwoo's.

“Hope it's not yours, I fear for the groom,” Wonwoo fires back with the same ease of banter and dose of acidity.

“Aww. Jealous, darling?” Soonyoung grins mockingly as he shrugs a black jean-jacket over a frayed band shirt, horribly under-dressed as per usual.

“Don't flatter yourself, I'm merely concerned for the poor man that has to spend eternity with you.” Wonwoo mutters as he pockets his phone and begins to resume his walk towards the cemetery's exit.

Uncaring if Soonyoung follows.

But like a fly that annoyingly buzzes in one's ear, Wonwoo hears the rush of hurried footsteps.

Great.

“Shouldn't you be more concered about those wrinkles, old man?” Soonyoung replies, easily falling into step with him despite the younger's obvious disdain, which he has made very clear every time Wonwoo was present.

"Shouldn't you start dressing in warmer clothes? Those jeans can't be too good for your blood circulation."

Wonwoo doesn't remember when he first met Soonyoung but he distinctly remembers the wave of white-hot anger that came crashing down when the younger clumsily crashed against him and consequently, the diorama Wonwoo had spent weeks building for class.

To his credit, Soonyoung had tried to help Wonwoo and even going as far as offering to come with him to class to explain what happened to Wonwoo's professor. But patience was not (yet) a virtue Wonwoo had come to cultivate and he was too proud for his own good to accept Soonyoung's apologies despite the younger's insistence.

And thus began a war that spanned all through out college as Wonwoo had retaliated by sneaking into Soonyoung's frat house (courtesy of a once-impressionble Chan) and putting powdered chalk all over his clothes and beddings and well, his laptop was just lying there and Wonwoo had a year of computer engineering before he shifted to creative writing and got, well, creative.

Soonyoung not one to take such insult lying down, had proceeded to egg every inch and crevice of Wonwoo's newly-washed car so much that it had to take three more washes for the older to get the smell off.

In hindsight, Wonwoo thinks they could have just talked it out like proper and civilized human beings. But pride was on the line and Wonwoo had spent way too much money on balloons that he had blown up and snuck in Soonyoung's car to bake under the heat and pop simultaneously the moment the Dance major attempted to open the car doors.

As such, it just became a thing to both their eternal thirst for revenge to one-up the other and their friend's amusement.

("I've never seen Wonwoo exert so much effort until he meet Soonyoung," Mingyu mutters in quiet awe as he watched two of his friends chase each other down the lawn with a can of whipped cream. "You couldn't even pay him to attend sports day."

Jeonghan simply hums as he grabs the can of beer from the still-frozen man and leans back on the beach chair he had comandeered from one of the frat houses for No-Beach-Beach Day.

"Sometimes your soul mate makes you crazy.")

"Don't worry, I'll still out live you." Soonyoung replies as he twirls his car keys over a finger. "Now, does the senior citizen need a ride?"

There's a scathing reply at the tip of Wonwoo's tongue but it gets cut off as a gust of wind billows around them, making the both of them shiver and goose bumps to errupt on their exposed skin.

Freezing to (possible) death just to wait for Desmond to arrive will save his pride but Wonwoo had just come from a funeral and he's just about ready to call it a night with a glass of wine to lull him to sleep.

Getting stuck in an awkward car ride with Soonyoung seems like the lesser of two evils and he wants Desmond to come home to his own family on time for dinner, for once.

"Fine," Wonwoo mutters as he walks towards the direction of the car park, "Get me home."

"Oh, is that a please I hear?"

"Fuck off," Wonwoo mutters as Soonyoung grins manically beside him as he rushes to his car.

Once they're both inside with much less fanfare than Wonwoo had come to expect, Wonwoo presses himself against the car door as close as possible to at least create a line of separation between him and Soonyoung.

Wonwoo will find a way to keep his dignity intact.

To his chagrin, Soonyoung doesn't even comment on it and simply drives.

The ride is silent for a few minutes save for the constant stream of whistling from Soonyoung's end after he had turned on the radio to some pop station that he knows will annoy Wonwoo to death. Wonwoo having no other desire to exert any unnecessary effort to interact with Soonyoung, simply keeps his mouth shut despite the headache throbbing in his temples at the repetitive lyrics.

"Hey, you think you'll die soon?" Comes the sudden question from Soonyoung as they drive out of the cemetery property and into the highway.

Wonwoo furrows his eyebrow for a second before he shrugs and decides there would be no harm to entertain Soonyoung's answer.

"If you still keep that smoking habit, you might." Wonwoo mutters as he eyes the pack of Malboros on Soonyoung's dashboard and the accompanying lighter beside it.

One of Wonwoo's eternal ticks was the smell of nicotine and Soonyoung was a walking cigarette pack ever since he met him. It was just natural for Wonwoo to add that to the long list of things he found annoying about Soonyoung.

"I stopped!" Soonyoung whines, petulant as if Wonwoo has greatly wronged him. "Why do you always think the worst?"

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the younger's petty tears, "You've been smoking since college, how was I to know you stopped?"

But, Wonwoo did know.

He knew because the car was strangely absent of the scent of nicotine that used to line the leather over the years and he had seen Soonyoung stay on his seat the entire time during dinner last week, when the black-haired man would usually excuse himself during dessert for a smoke break.

"Well, I'm stopping now." Soonyoung mutters as he rubs a finger against his nose, body bowed in a self-conscious curve.

"Congrats? Is that what you want me to say?" Wonwoo wonders out loud and it only serves to make the hunch on Soonyoung's shoulders more pronounced.

"You don't know have to be such a dick about it," Soonyoung sniffs as he manuevers the car in the free way. "Asshole."

"Well, what did you want me to say then?" Wonwoo sighs as he rubs a tired hand against the space between his eyebrows.

"Nothing, forget it." Soonyoung replies tersely and his sudden closed-offness just serves to make Wonwoo's headache worse.

"Just spit it out, Soonyoung." Wonwoo mutters as he leans back on his seat and gazes out the window, "Or you'll end up holding it against me, again."

"I said it's nothing!" Soonyoung suddenly shouts and it makes Wonwoo jump on his seat with surprise.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Wonwoo hisses as he tries to calm his heart beat down, "Do you want to get us into an accident?"

"Oh so now I'm a horrible driver?"

"I did not say that you dip shit," Wonwoo fires back.

"You were implying it, dickhead."

"I really was not but if you're going to insist on it, fine. You're a horrible driver and I will fucking kill you if you get us in an accident."

The car grows quiet after that with nothing but Wonwoo's still-harsh breathing and Soonyoung's god-awful radio station to puncture the silence from time to time.

"I'm not," Soonyoung whispers after a while, strangely subdued after his sudden outburst.

"You're not what."

Wonwoo watches him drive the car to the outermost lane before Soonyoung kills the engine and parks the car by the sidewalk in silence.

"What are you doing, some of us has to get home."

"I told you, I'm not gonna get us killed."

Wonwoo raises his eyebrow, slowly growing concerned over Soonyoung's unsual behavior, "Okay? Now drive?"

"Just..." Soonyoung sighs, a harsh sound escaping his teeth before he unbuckles his seatbelt but makes no move to get out of the car.

"Have you been drinking?" Wonwoo asks, "What is wrong with you, today?"

Wonwoo can feel the headache consuming his whole skull as his skin burns with impatience.

He has no time to deal with whatever brand of crazy Soonyoung has decided to dish out today and just wants to get home, take off his suit and wash the scent of flowers and burnt candle wicks out of his body and then drown himself with alcohol until he feels numb and he forgets the image of his hand throwing a rose at a dugged-out pocket of land as he watched its petals touch the solid wood of the casket being lowered to the ground.

He just wants to go home and forget that he lost another friend.

"Nothing's wrong, why do you always assume something's wrong with me?"

God, why now?

"Soonyoung, I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with your bullshit right now." Wonwoo breathes harshly through his teeth as he tries to will the headache away, "So you either drive me home or I can get out of this car and walk."

"Do you really hate being with me?"

It's said so quietly that Wonwoo could just miss it but they're alone and the highway is silent that Wonwoo hears every word.

He's about to reply when something glints on Soonyoung's cheek and Wonwoo realizes with aborted surprise that the younger is crying.

"Shit," Soonyoung swears once he (too) realizes that he was crying, "Shit, why the fuck am I crying?"

"Soon–" Wonwoo doesn't know what to do with his hands as Soonyoung keeps crying, tears stubbornly falling on his cheeks even if the younger tries so hard to wipe it off.

It's the first time Wonwoo has seen Soonyoung cry.

He has known him for fourty-one years.

Soonyoung's tears evolve into full-on sobs, shoulders hunching as his body is wrecked with the force of his cries and Wonwoo doesn't know what to do.

He doesn't know what to do, he has never had to take care of Soonyoung before.

The younger was always so bright and full of life even in the face of the worst of Wonwoo's pranks. The worst of his emotions was only limited to being pissed off after Wonwoo one-ups him or to bursts of annoyance that came when he couldn't get the choreography right for a dance recital or when his unreasonable boss piles another job on him which usually ended up on Soonyoung taking it out on Wonwoo in the dorms when they were still in college or after their dinner parties in his apartment.

Yes, they slept together.

Their petty rivalry had to rear it's ugly head at some point and it happened a few months after they started when they got into one of those arguments that had everyone fleeing the room to avoid the inevitable car crash.

Wonwoo doesn't remember who kissed who but he remembers ending up in Seokmin's bedroom with his pants halfway down his thighs and the feeling of his teeth clamping on his own fist as he tried to hide his moans as Soonyoung sucked him off.

Then he jerked the younger off to near passing out until they collapsed on their friend's bed with a tired sigh.

They still hated each other even after that but instead of ludicrous pranks, Soonyoung can leave mean bites on Wonwoo's shoulders where his shirt will hide them and Wonwoo can edge Soonyoung for hours if he pissed Wonwoo off that day.

It didn't have to mean anything else but another way to get revenege against each other.

Wonwoo could still see the bite he had left on Soonyoung three days ago peeking through the collar of the younger's shirt and if Wonwoo could concetrate enough, he can still feel the phantom throb from where Soonyoung had pressed his fingers deep into Wonwoo's shoulder as he fucked him from behind last week.

There's an entire constellation of themselves on each other's skin—pressed, bitten, kissed.

A reminder, a claim, a promise.

Wonwoo suddenly feels so, so tired all of a sudden.

He's so tired of having to pretend that all this time, from college up until this very moment where he's watching Soonyoung cry, he doesn't want to hold his hand.

"You are not going to die," Wonwoo starts, not knowing where he'll end up after this. "Not even in the nearest future or even after then."

A waterly laugh errupts from Soonyoung's mouth from where he's leaning on the steering wheel, "How sure are you?"

"I just am, Soonyoung." Wonwoo sighs as he looks ahead of him, through the window of the car and into the long and silent road.

"I could die anytime now," Soonyoung mutters. "I could die anytime."

"Why do you think you'll die, why are you so sure?"

Soonyoung scoffs as he lifts his head off from the steering wheel, "C'mon genius, you and I both know why."

Wonwoo turns his head and looks at Soonyoung straight in the eye.

He has known Soonyoung for fourty-one years.

"I really don't."

Soonyoung sighs as he wipes the last of his tears off before looking away and staring at his own side of the window, "I don't have a soulmate. There. Happy now, asshole?"

Wonwoo is not.

"You really had to make me say it, don't you?" Soonyoung scoffs as he begins to start the car up, "You're really an asshole."

Wonwoo closes his eyes and thinks that he has known Soonyoung for fourty-one years.

Fourty-one years, Wonwoo should be over sixty now and yet he still looks like he's still twenty-three.

He met Soonyoung at twenty-three.

"What am I, then?" Wonwoo whispers, quiet.

A confession, albeit fourty-one years late.

"What are you what?" Soonyoung asks, tone confused as Wonwoo opens his eyes and stares back again at Soonyoung.

Fourty-one years.

He has been in love with Soonyoung for fourty-one years.

"What am I, if not your soulmate?"

#enemies to lovers #soulmate #angst #minor character death #vice usage mention #prompt fill #secret lovers #fuck buddies #open ending #soonwoo #hoshi #wonwoo

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cr0w-covered0n-m0ss · 1 year

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Second part of: Even a Watcher is Being Watched

The Growing Purple Hyacinth on my heart

"The purple Haycint is a popular type of flower with the meaning of, sorrow and regret, the grief and guilty, and the seeking for forgiveness"

The cold wind of the night hit softley on the dirty blond face, it was hard to see whatever was besides his "home" or at least the place he called that even if is the least of what he see's the place as.

He was tired of lossing people, yet continued to live, ever sense the fact that he can't be seen on a pathetic light, no he just can't. The black-eyed blonde was a watcher or atleast has a thread of their power and some desires of those gods, so he has to be strong.

Just that, a strong guy who jokes around the place of death of his beloved friends and just search more friends companions, you know. He is the guy who laughs the second he sees that one of his traps worked taking at least two lives, a mad man, someone who you are supposed to be scared.

Not a man who sobs silently while trying to sleep or while watching the eternal night above his head, no he is not that sentimental. No,he just makes graves to seem nice enough

But the funerals he attends to makes no difrence to him, just like seeing how his almost-brother dies once again first, and as you may guess it, because of a request of his. Seeing how the canary has fallen alongside with the minecart the blond was supposed to use, or observing how said canary, on a panic, is searching something to save himself trying to not budge to his curse once again, but all to yet end up on the same situation as always, chained to look those who still live and exist within that plane of life. Absolutely nothing to the "Parrot" hybrid after all, he should is used to it now

That's just not how he is, he never remembers the details of any death, how could he anyway?, is not like those memories hunt him forever, not letting him sleep,Eat,Work,Exist, Live in peace..No that's not who Grian is, no it never has affect him like that, not even the death of, his, the First Bad Boy Joel.

Just noticing that the brunette has fallen on the same place the Omen of death did once, how even if he screamed his name on a, then, again failled attempt to snap out of the same overwhelming shock, and the shivers of the feeling of death around ending on it, even so after that was done with only water flowing like normally in front of him filling the silence of the Dirty blond heart once again. He just got over with it as fast as it came doing what he could to just keep on. Not letting anyone Watch how it may had affect him, just jokes around of his new alliance.

Yeah just jokes.

•••

Just jokes, nothing else on the Hybrid heart, no more tears or laments those had been take care of a few moments ago. Or so he wishes, he knows that he's hurt, that he is grieving and he does not can't to give up that

Grian wants to just give in to that pain, just cry and let out that wilt of his heart but he can't, he just cant be seen in that kind of emotions, and the only thing he can keep doing is live.

Live for those who cant anymore for those who he stoled the opportunity of doing so and because i cant stand being alone, he never could and never will be able to stomach once again.

He also has to live for the past he is never strong or brave enough to let go, it will be unfair to those who suffered and got no other chance.

So just he does that, he lives and fights for that life until his body gives in for necessity, just as he wants it to do, and be taken by death once again probably alone just like he is cursed to be.

#grian #hermitblr #grian fic #grian angst #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #traffic series #Bad Boys angst #Cr0w's Night stories #writing

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lexsfosters · 2 years

Text

Tw: abuse

Kelly Rowland’s comment on how everyone “deserves” forgiveness absolutely did not sit well right with me at all because it hyped up zealots saying the most condescending horseshit like this

You see, My grandfather was horrifically abusive to his entire family. As he grew older, he grew out of that violent behaviour (prob bc he knew he can’t away with it no more) but he never made any effort to make amends with any of his kids. He choose to be awful to the end. My uncle, who is gay man btw, REFUSED to attend his funeral because of that pain and trauma that man inflicted on him growing up, he had EVERY right to not never ever forgive this man.

Statements like that is incredibly belittling to the victims who cannot forgive their abusers/assaulters. Forgiveness is EARNED. It is not something people “deserve”. Pushing this narrative that people who refuse to forgive are holding themselves back is wrong, victims CAN heal and thrive in life without ever forgiving their abusers. It is infuriating to still see people in religious spaces shaming people for not being “forgiving” enough.

Also You absolutely cannot expect the damn public to just forgive a public figure who is a REPEATED violent offender. Like what is not clicking????

#abuse tw

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fandomficsnstuff · 2 years

Text

A Chance Encounter - 5

(Warnings: some angst, fluff, jokes, I’m pleased with this chapter actually:3)

For the words in bold, if you want to know 100% what they mean, here’s the website I use: https://www.thuum.org/translator.php

Amazing moodboard goes to @quantumlocked310

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Ruth’s eyes were closed as she enjoyed the cold air, her cheeks pink from the cold as she took a deep breath. The celebrations had long since died down but she didn’t feel like going inside yet. She heard footsteps, light, softly approaching and she couldn’t help but smile softly, already having an idea of who it was and the voice only confirmed it. “Are you not cold?” Ruth hummed quietly at the question, gently shaking her head as she opened her eyes, looking up at Aragorn with a soft expression “my kind never truly grows cold… never sleep peacefully either” Ruth added in a quiet voice, looking over the sleeping Edoras as Aragorn sat down beside her. “Tell me, your kind… how many others have you met?” Aragorn asked and Ruth couldn't help but pale a little bit when she heard it, a second pair of footsteps, much lighter, reaching her ears long before they reached Aragorn’s. “Legolas, sit” Ruth awkwardly invited, smiling over her shoulder at him before turning back to Aragorn. “Not many. I have met others but I have not known them… I’m sad to say that the ones I didn’t know that I met, have been ones who were lost, lost within the desire to hunt, overtaken with the blood they have, attacking everyone and everything in sight. Most don’t want this blood by choice, most get infected from another species, they don’t realize it until it’s too late. Those are the ones I have killed… the ones I have known are different. There was Skjor, Aela, Farkas, Vilkas… Kodlak… Kodlak was different… he was what is known as a Harbinger, a sort of mentor, guiding a faction called The Companions, giving advice, but they don’t actually lead. He was a great man, though he grew tired of the beast blood, as we call it. We have a saying; eyes on the prey, not the horizon. It’s to remind us what’s in front of us, and not what’s to come, but Kodlak was beginning to look to the horizon… he wanted to be rid of it… cured… he looked for ways to do this, one day he sent me out to find this cure, but when I got back he-... he was dead, attacked, killed in battle. I attended his funeral after avenging him, after that, I managed to cure him even in death, allowing him to enter Sovngarde, as he deserves” Ruth explained in a soft voice, daring to cast a glance at Legolas and it seemed like Araogorn caught onto this, clearing his throat as he sighed and stood up, stretching a bit “goodnight, Ruth, Legolas” Aragorn bowed his head before entering the hall once more, though he didn’t stray far, peeking around the corner to see Ruth and Legolas sit beside each other, Legolas looking at her, Ruth avoiding his gaze all together, as though the stone steps they were sitting on was the most interesting thing she had seen in all of her unnaturally long life.

“A-About earlier, I overstepped, forgive me, Legolas” Ruth blurted out, continuing to avoid his gaze until Legolas finally had enough, his hand gently cupping her cheek, turning her head to face him and the second she did, his lips pressed against hers, and this time, it was her who was unprepared. It took a few seconds before she registered what was happening, but when she did, her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch, kissing him softly and gently. Aragorn smirked before turning away, about to continue when he heard Ruth’s worried voice. “Legolas?...” her voice was wavering a little as Legolas frowned before looking at her with terror. “It’s here!” he whispered and Ruth frowned as she got up, Legolas soon following as she ran to the room everyone else was sleeping in, bursting into the door with Aragorn following soon after, watching him take the glowing orb from Pippin only to faint soon after. Without thinking Ruth ran forward as the orb rolled, picking it up, expecting to faint as Aragorn had done but instead she just held the cold orb in her hands, a frown on her pale, freckled face as she stared into the fiery eye portrayed in the orb, her frown growing into a look of horror, her breathing picking up as though she was horrified, a look of utter terror forming on her face as Gandalf quickly used a blanket to cover the orb and take it from her. Gandalf cast one look at her as she looked at him, her green eyes moving to an unmoving Pippin and before Gandalf could react, she was by his side, cupping his face in her hands as she studied him before closing her eyes, holding both hands out over Pippin’s body, over his head. A glowing light began to form, warm, like a lit candle, a small chiming noise filling the quiet room as the glow began to stretch into lines, like silk ribbons flowing through a river, wrapping around Pippin’s entire body as it was as though a glowing light outlined his still body, the light almost blinding to anyone being too close, the chiming, although unrelenting, was comforting, as though the sound itself was enough to soothe someone, everyone’s panic slowly vanishing as they watched the glowing light slowly fade, the chiming sound fading into nothing as Ruth opened her green eyes again, the flecks of gold seemingly alive, breathing even, as though excited that she was using some part of herself she kept hidden. Pippin’s eyes shot open and he gasped, Gandalf quickly kneeling down beside him as Ruth stood up and stepped back, almost stumbling. She cast a glance around the room but didn’t seem as though she was actually looking at anything. Her feet carried her past everyone as she rushed outside, her feet carrying her towards the gate as Legolas followed after her once he made sure Aragorn was alright.

“Ruth… Ruth! Ruth!!” Legolas shouted as he tried to catch up to her, eventually reaching her, gently touching her elbow before grasping it to stop her, which worked. “What did it say?” Legolas’ soft spoken question was enough for Ruth to break down, tears in her eyes as she finally looked up at him, the green pools he adored, swimming amongst unshed tears. “Hin Daan Ag Enook Sivaas Hi Haalvut, Sahlo Mal Lucia” Ruth’s voice was barely above a whisper, a lump in her throat as she looked back towards the hall “he knew my daughters name…” she muttered, looking down with a heavy sigh before shaking her head, her free hand gently removing his hand from her elbow, her eyes meeting his once more as a few tears spilled over, running down her pale cheeks, staining those beautiful freckles. In a split second she leaned up and softly kissed him before standing back down, whistling a low tune and stepping back from him, saddling up on Shadowmere as the horse stopped in front of her. “Don’t wait for me” was her last words before she rode the rest of the way towards the gate, slipping through them with Shadowmere, Legolas’ feet carrying him to one of the watchtowers, a shadow darker than the night surrounding them was seen moving across the field, out of sight and it wasn’t long after that Legolas heard a deep, long howl that sounded much more different to the other times he had heard that howl, this was one of pain.

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Legolas fiddled nervously with the necklace Ruth had let him keep, his brows drawn together in a frown as he was deep in his own head, only present enough to steer the horse every now and then, humming at whatever Gimli was saying. “She will be alright, Legolas” the elf looked up at Aragorn with a frown, a sigh leaving his lips as he looked away from Aragorn, back down at the necklace before looking ahead again, not saying a single word, Gimli looking at Aragorn with a concerned look. “You saw her, she can fight thousands of orcs for hours without getting a scratch on her, and now she has her ring” Aragorn once again tried to persuade his friend but all he got was Legolas turning his gaze further away from him, a sigh leaving his lips as he nearly gave up. “Five days” Legolas finally spoke up, looking back at Aragorn “she has been gone for five days” Legolas added, Aragorn nodding softly “and she will be back. She has someone to come back to” Aragorn reminded the elf, a small smile tugging at his lips when he saw Legolas blush. “Besides, I don’t truly think she’s that far away” Aragorn stated with a smirk, gesturing in the direction of a mountain ridge they were near, Legolas’ blue eyes following up the stone structure until he was met with a pair of glowing yellow eyes that were gone as soon as he had seen them, his entire body relaxing more as he occasionally glanced back on the ridge, hoping he’d see those glowing eyes again, and even though he was met with stone each time he tried, he still looked occasionally.

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It was dark when the guards at the new camp saw two red, glowing eyes approach them, the sound of hooves treading the grass calmly as they approached was about the only sound that gave it away that someone was approaching, despite the eyes. They were about to ask the person to halt when they spotted her, someone who had been talking with the king himself, so they let her ride through, three dead deer on the back of her horse, two rabbits hanging from the side and a fox hanging on the other side of the saddle, all gutted expertly. Legolas raised his head as he heard the hooves of a horse he had heard a few times now, his eyes lifting from his bow to the red eyes that approached him, the horse stopping barely an inch from him as it’s rider saddled off. For the first time her hood was up, a sort of mask covering half of her face from her eyes under, her red hair hidden behind the hood as she began to unload the deers, rabbits and the fox before making a small clicking noise, Shadowmere turning around and calmly walking out of the camp, out of sight and into the darkness. “You’re back” Legolas noted with a soft smile, and it was as though just hearing his voice was enough to make Ruth snap out of her quiet state, her green eyes meeting his, peeking over the edge of the mask that covered the rest of her face, her freckles and birthmark and scars hidden from his eyes as she held eye contact with him for a few seconds longs. “I overheard something about a lack of food” she finally mumbled, about to pick up one of the deer on her shoulder when Legolas stood up to help, picking up a deer himself and taking one of the rabbits, Ruth following his motions and picking up the fox, the two of them walking towards Théoden and Éomer.

Ruth dropped the deer and fox near Éomer, causing him to turn around at the noise as Legolas dropped the rest, smiling softly at Ruth before putting a hand on her shoulder, silently telling her he was fetching the rest. “I heard something about a lack of food” Ruth stated once more, pulling down the mask covering half her face, revealing a new scar on her cheek, near the old one that stretched through her birthmark, it was small and looked like it fitted in with the others, only it was fresher. “How did you hunt all this?” Éomer asked with shock as he kneeled down and inspected the expertly gutted animals as Legolas returned with the remaining animals, gently placing them on the ground by the others. “I’ve gutted them, do the rest” Ruth muttered in a tired voice before turning around and leaving, walking away from him and Legolas, pulling down her hood and sighing heavily, a hand running down her face in frustration. She was about to head towards the exit of the camp when Legolas caught up with her, gently grabbing her hand which stopped her, turning her to face him. “Back in Edoras… your words… what did they mean, Ruth?” Legolas asked softly and she closed her eyes in regret, gently shaking her head as she looked away, but she didn’t leave. “‘Your doom burns every creature you touch, poor little Lucia’... that’s what it said. Dragonborns have often been called ‘doomstriken’ or ‘doom fated’. Because of the dragon blood in our veins we lust for power and domination, and unfortunately, far too many give in to it…” Ruth muttered as she gently pulled her hand out of his, looking back up at him with a forced smile “I don’t want another death on my hands, Legolas…” Ruth trailed off as though her words were explanation enough, hoping and praying that Legolas would get the message but he just grabbed her hand again, gently guiding her to a nearby fire, sitting down with her on a log and the second she sat down, she leaned against his shoulder, eyes locked on the flames as they licked at the air, trying to climb higher and higher. “You’re not doomstriken, Ruth” Legolas’ soft words were enough for her to relax against him, her eyes closing out of their own accord before she forced them back open again, only for them to fall shut once more, this time she didn’t force them open though, she let herself drift off on Legolas’ shoulder, the fire warming her bones that had been strained for days now, hunting, running, never taking a moment to rest, until now. After a while Legolas gently picked her up and carried her to his tent, laying her down on his cot before laying down on the grass below, his own eyes closing as he began to drift off.

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When Legolas woke up, he expected to find Ruth, it was barely dawn, still dark outside but she was nowhere to be seen, the camp still mostly asleep but yet there were sounds of life outside the small tent. When Legolas looked towards the the cot he saw some stew carefully placed on it so it wouldn’t spill, a wooden spoon lying next to it and before Legolas could think anything else, the flap opened, revealing Ruth as she walked in, gaze downcast until she realized Legolas was awake, her cheeks burning bright red as she cleared her throat and approached, some bread in her hands, wrapped in some fabric as she walked closer and put it down beside the stew, gesturing to it “I uh… brought you food” she mumbled, giving him a soft smile before leaving the tent once more. Legolas happily took the food that she had brought him, it somehow tasted better with the knowledge that it was her who brought it to him in preparation for him to wake up, not Aragorn, certainly not Gimli, her.

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Legolas couldn’t help but glare as he watched her ride next to Éomer, the occasional smile thrown his way when he made her laugh, it annoyed him and he had no idea why. “The dragon at Helm’s Deep, it was real?!” Éomer asked and she nodded with a chuckle “yes, his name is Durnehviir, I bested him in combat once” she explained, Éomer blinking at her with shock “you-... bested a dragon?? Alone?” he asked with shock and her cheeks burned as she shrugged, clearing her throat awkwardly as she shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. “Yes, though I had help from three others… but he’s far from the first or last dragon I’ve bested, I just didn’t kill him, or well, I did but he can never really die so he just reappeared again” Ruth said as though that made it less of a big deal, Éomer’s eyes wide as he simply watched her, clearly making her uncomfortable without realizing it. “Bormahu Ofan Zu’u Mulaag…” Ruth muttered quietly as he continued to stare at her, her shy look slowly turning into one of annoyance. “Drem, Ruth, Drem. Krif Dovah Ahst Daar Lein Los Nunon Zoor…” she added quietly, glancing at Éomer before clearing her throat, raising her head as if she heard something, a frown forming on her face “yes, Legolas? Excuse me, Lord Éomer, I believe I heard Legolas calling for me” she said politely, turning Shadowmere around and practically galloping over to Legolas, opting to ride alongside him instead, letting out a heavy breath. “Please pretend to be talking to me” she whispered in a quiet voice, Legolas smirking as he chuckled, Aragorn shaking his head in amusement as Gimli looked at her confused. “Daar Wahl Zu’u Lingrah Fah Dii Sul Ahst Fin Monahven Voth Paarthurnax…” Ruth mumbled, looking at Legolas to find him already looking at her, a blush forming on her cheeks as she cleared her throat and looked away. “Sorry, I often speak in Dovah tongue when I’m annoyed… or anxious, or nervous. Or angry” Ruth muttered, forcing herself to smile up at Legolas, her smile becoming less forced when Legolas smiled back at her. “So, what were you saying?” Legolas asked and Ruth couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, “oh, I was merely complaining, muttering to myself of how I longed to be back at the Monahven with my teacher. It was quiet times such as those that made things bearable after the Civil War” she admitted with a casual shrug, looking ahead with that same, soft smile on her lips. “Monahven is the dragon word for The Throat of the World, a highly significant place. It’s the tallest mountain in all of Skyrim, and the world in fact, I think, and the Nords believe they originated from there, that a goddess of nature and wind blew them into creation atop that mountain peak, though some just believe they hailed from Atmora. Either way, it’s the birthing place of man and dragons alike, it is said that the spirit of Kyne rests upon that mountain. There’s also a sort of rift, a shard of some sort. Time was shattered on top of that mountain, creating a rift where if you have a specific Elder Scroll, you can see through it, see what caused the rift itself, live through it as though you were really there” Ruth explained in a smirk, turning her head when she was met with silence, clearing her throat awkwardly as she looked away “forgive me for rambling” she muttered, about to steer Shadowmere away when a voice stopped her, “Elder Scroll? What are those?” Ruth looked at Legolas as he posed the question, one of her red eyebrows arching as she smirked at him “how much time do you have, Legolas of Mirkwood?” she asked in a teasing voice, Legolas smirking right back at her “as long as it takes, Ruth of Solstheim…”

Ruth blushed at his words and Gimli rolled his eyes, waving Aragorn over and when he was close enough, Gimli dared to pull himself over to Aragorn to sit behind him instead, a chuckle leaving Ruth’s lips at his action. “I don’t blame you, Master Gimli, it is a difficult subject to understand and not for those of simple minds, I do not blame you for fleeing” she stated teasingly, Gimli’s look turning into one of pure and utter shock and he couldn’t have looked more offended if he tried. “Aragorn, put me back! I said; put me back! I’ll show that-... what are you doing?! Aragorn! You’re riding the other way!” Gimli complained, a smirk on Aragorn’s lips as he gave you and Legolas some privacy.

“So, an Elder Scroll” Legolas started and Ruth smirked up at him before chuckling “Elder ScrollS. There’s three in total I believe, safely contained in my home until they decide to leave. You see, Elder Scrolls are something entirely different, nothing can destroy them, fire, ice, lightning, not even my Thu’um can touch it! Elder Scrolls are exactly where they want to be, they can be resting on the table in your house one second and be gone the next with no trace as to how or why. They appear at different times on Nirn, shifting in between time as though it was a gentle stream of water and not an all commanding force of nature. They can tell you of the past, the present and the future, they are so powerful that you can go blind if you are too hasty in trying to read one, and even if you manage a glimpse at it, it’s rare that you’ll be able to intrepid what you’ll see anyway. They pop up at different times but always where they’re needed, during a dragon crisis where a specific person needs to peek through the window of time to the past to learn a crucial tool to help save the world, kept safely in another pocket realm, awaiting someone to pick it up and join it with it’s fellow scrolls to avert a vampire crisis and save the mortality and freedom of everyone. They always have a reason for existing, sometimes they stay decades in the same spot, knowing that one day someone will come get them, someone will have the purpose or the knowledge to find them. They can choose to disappear at any time, often at random but I believe there’s a sort of sentience to them. They always appear when needed, or when something concerning them is meant to happen or could happen. Four hundred years ago in my world, it is said that the Imperial Library had one of these scrolls, I’m not sure how they managed to get one but it is said to have been stolen by a legendary thief! The Gray Fox, legendary… I believe the scroll was there for that exact purpose. I believe the scroll I found in the dwemer ruins had waited decades for me to find it for the purpose of helping me see through that rift of time without going blind. Perhaps it is one of the Divines who control them, or the Daedra, perhaps they have their own sentience… I believe the latter. That they can think for themselves, they’re not alive but they are too methodical to be random acts of magic we don’t understand. I believe they act on the probability of things that can happen, there was a chance that the heist at the Imperial Library would be successful and so it planted itself into the hands of those it would be stolen from. There was a chance I’d make it to the Soul Cairn and free Valerica so she could lead me to the Scroll she kept hidden and locked away. There was a chance that I’d hear the rumors of the Dawnguard rising, that I’d join up to protect Skyrim once more and go to that cave where a woman was locked away with an Elder Scroll, which she would later entrust me with. They are all too methodical, too thought out to be simple acts of powerful magic… I don’t believe Magnus himself would have the power to do this so there has to be something more to it… it’s what I believe anyway, but the fact remains that not a lot is known about the Elder Scrolls, how they appear and disappear seemingly at will, how they can show the past, present and future all at once…” Ruth ended her rambling, about to apologize for rambling on and on when Legolas stopped her before she could, he enjoyed hearing her voice, even though he didn’t understand half of what she said. “The Dwemer had an Elder Scroll?” he asked with curiosity and Ruth seemed to light up at his question, bringing warmth to his heart as he watched her grin, watching her lips move as she began to explain and ramble, telling him her theories and beliefs as to how and why.

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Legolas hesitantly approached Ruth as she stood near the edge of the cliff, eyes locked on the moon, arms crossed over her chest as she had a small frown on her face, as though she was deep in thought, it was partially why Legolas was so careful when approaching her. “Ruth?” The short, red haired woman with almost glowing green eyes turned at the mention of her name, her eyes falling on Legolas and it was as though the sight of him alone was enough to make her less worried about something, her eyes returning to the moon up high above her. “There’ll be full moons on Nirn tonight… I’m amazed… I still feel the pull, the tug… even though I’m so far away… Hircine pulls me towards his hunting grounds…” Ruth whispered the last bit under her breath, as though it was a foreshadowing that she dreaded. “How did you arrive here, on Middle Earth?” Legolas finally asked the question that had plagued him since Lothlorien, a soft sigh leaving Ruth’s lips as she looked down. “I was roaming Apocrypha… collecting a unique book I had been looking for… a hobby of mine, but this book I wasn’t capable of finding on Nirn… so I traveled to Apocrypha, where all books and knowledge, free and forbidden, is stored. It’s the realm of a daedric prince who goes by the name Hermaeus Mora, or Herma Mora. I couldn’t find the book in that particular section of Apocrypha so I decided to exit and enter another section, hoping to find it there but when I exited-... I was here… I remember falling from the sky, hurling towards the ground… I managed to shift at the last moment, leaving me unscathed, sore but unscathed… I lost the clothes I was wearing but I wasn’t wearing anything significant, merely a comfortable dress. I ended up in Rivendell, I landed right outside a fountain of sorts, Lord Elrond happened to pass by, seeing me change back into human form… he cared for me, clothed me and fed me, nursed me back to my strength. Then a group of Dwarves showed up. When I first heard the news I was so confused,” Ruth stated with a light chuckle, gently shaking her head as she looked down at the ground, “the idea that Dwarves existed here, even though they were nothing like the ones from my world was quite a shock… I met them, got along well with them, learned about their culture and lives, they’re a festive bunch, small but cheery. They reminded me of the Companions, strong spirited and headstrong, full of fighting spirit. You should have seen Thorin’s face when I asked to join them on their quest, they all began to warn me about dragons and orcs and giant wolf like creatures the orcs used as mounts, it all sounded rather pleasant to me” Ruth admitted with a smirk, looking back up at Legolas “you know the rest” she ended, shrugging lightly before looking back out over the edge of the cliff. “Perhaps I can summon Durnehviir once more, to help in defending Gondor… he owes me quite a lot of favors and I know he enjoys the fresh air and sun, being cooped up in the Soul Cairn could have a vampire longing for the sun on their skin” Ruth added with an amused look on her face.

“What is a vampire?” Ruth’s head snapped in Legolas’ direction at his question, a look of shock on her face “you don’t-... you don’t have vampires?... I-I suppose it makes sense, since you don’t have Daedric Princes. Vampires are immortal beings from my world, created by a Daedric Prince of domination and enslavement, and of course vampires. Immortality is… tricky, in my world. Vampires will never get sick, grow old. They gain formidable power, but they can be killed, they can die from a wound if the wound is specific, like poisoned or inflicted by something specific. There’s different kinds of vampires too, there’s the daughters of Coldharbour and the men, they gain their vampirism directly from Molag Bal, the creator of vampirism, then there are the lesser streins, the ones infected by the Coldharbour vampires, then there are those infected by them, and so on and so on, each chain is weaker and less powerful than the ones directly from Molag Bal, or the ones that are direct from him. The further away from the source, the weaker” Ruth stated with a shrug, looking up at Legolas with a soft smile, as though studying him before looking back up at the moon “I rejected the offer to become one of the most powerful ones… I must admit that I somewhat regret it…” Ruth muttered the last bit with a bittersweet smile. “You… regret it?” Legolas asked slowly, seeing Ruth nod her head softly “yes… I had the option, to be infected by one who was transformed by Molag Bal himself, but I refused… I was too caught up in my beast blood back then, thinking that it was more superior than their power. It would have helped in the upcoming battles, giving me more control, more power… my kind, the Dovahkiin, I’ve told you of how we lust for power… that we can’t help it, it’s in a dragon’s nature to dominate and that nature lies within us, because of the dragon souls. It’s also very difficult to resist, I kept that in mind when I refused, believing I would be denying myself too much power in an attempt to control myself but-...” Ruth trailed off with an almost sad look to her, eyes moving to the ground under her feet, the edge itself barely more than a few inches away from where she was standing. “The beast blood haunts me, Legolas… I begin to grow tired of it… of the hunger, the restless nights… I haven’t slept soundly since I acquired the blood… I would do mostly anything for one night’s rest… without nightmares, without a restless need to hunt… I want hunting to be a sport again, not something that I felt compelled to do… If I could go back in time… I might’ve joined Lord Harkon… at least for a brief while…” Ruth admitted in an almost whispering voice, as though saying it out loud would damn her to the darkest pits of a place of her horrors, eyes glazed over as if she was in some sort of daze. “Is there a way to cure yourself? You said you cured a man once after he was dead?” Legolas asked after a while, seeing her nod gently, as though doing any movement too big would make the world come crashing down over her head “there is… an item one must burn to free themselves… I’ve freed Kodlak… Vilkas, Farkas… only Aela and I are left and I grow tired of it, of never sleeping peacefully. I know Aela holds onto the blood so she can see Skjor, her lover, in the afterlife of Hircine, but I’m not so certain as to why I’m holding onto it… I have no one waiting for me in the Hunting Grounds. I suppose if I couldn’t go to Sovngarde I’d want to go to the Evergloam, if Nocturnal allows it. It’s said to be so beautiful that mortals go blind upon entering the realm” Ruth muttered with a blissful look before seemingly snapping out of it, blinking away a few tears before smiling up at Leolas “we best rest our bones before we’ll have to join Aragorn” she said casually, turning around to walk away when Legolas gently grabbed her by her elbow, stopping her “how-”

“There’s a rider approaching, Legolas. I remember the sound of the hooves, it’s Lord Elrond, also,” she took a step closer to him with a smirk “I can smell it’s him” she stated with a smirk before moving so his hand slipped into hers, a grin on her lips as she nodded towards the nearby fire where, amongst others, Gimli sat and laughed, enjoying himself. Legolas found himself easily pulled along with her, the smile she cast over her shoulder at him, the way the fire glowed behind her, making her red hair almost shine in the darkness, it was enough to convince him. She dragged him over by the fire, sitting down on the ground next to an open space on a log, Legolas sitting down on the log and without hesitating she leaned her head on his legs, grinning and laughing at one of Gimli’s comments. Legolas couldn’t help but admire her, the top of her fiery red hair, glowing, the small braids here and there as her hair was pulled from the front to the back of her neck, tied with a thick band of something, along with a clasp he knew to be dwarvish in origin, the symbols faint in the darkness, the moving light of the fire was enough to light up some of the carvings. Her skin almost burned through to his legs, she was almost burning as hot at the fire yet didn’t appear to be ill, her cheeks, although pale, had a healthy color to them, the freckled seemingly moving about on her cheeks, dancing across them, running over the bridge of her nose, he knew it was just the flames and the way the light was cast and moved, but it brought a smile to his face, the idea of her freckles coming alive, dancing to a tune no one but she knew.

#Skyrim fic #LOTR fic #Skyrim x LOTR Crossover #A Chance Encounter #Legolas x OC #Legolas x Ruth Telvanni #Elder Scrolls: V

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smqazi · 3 hours

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SALATUL JANAZAH

FUNERAL PRAYERS & RULINGS

Amongst the first things that we do after a death is offer Funeral Prayer. That also is a means of benefitting the Dead. When the Muslims pray janazah for their deceased brother, they are granted intercession for him. The more the number of Muslims who join in the prayer, the more beneficial it is for the deceased. This means that Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) takes their testimony and supplication regarding the deceased's apparent actions as a sufficient reason for forgiveness.

Since those Muslims who associated with him did not find any major problem to prevent them from supplicating for him, Allah, the most generous, accepts that and agrees to forgive many of his hidden sins that they did not know.

The Prophet ﷺ said, "Whenever a Muslim man dies, and forty (40) men stand for his Janazah prayer, all of them not joining anything with Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) in worship, Allah (Subhanahu wa Ta’ala) grants them intercession for him." (Muslim and others).

In another narration, the number one hundred (100) was mentioned instead of forty (40+.

So strive to offer Funeral prayers and try and get as many Righteous Muslims to attend the Funeral prayer and request them to pray for the deceased.

RULING

The funeral prayer is a communal obligation (Fard Kifaayah) that must be offered for anyone who dies and was apparently Muslim, even if he or she committed major sins.

An-Nawawi (Rahiunullah ‘alaihi) said: Offering the funeral prayer for the deceased is a communal obligation with no difference of opinion among us, which means there is (scholarly) consensus.

Attending a funeral is a duty that a Muslim owes to his fellow Muslim. Al-Bukhaari (1240) and Muslim (2162) narrated that Abu Hurayrah (RadiyAllahu ‘anhu) said: I heard the Messenger of Allaah ﷺ say: “ "The rights of a Muslim on the Muslims are five: to respond to the salaam, visiting the sick, to follow the funeral processions, to accept an invitation, and to reply to those who sneeze.”.

REWARD OF ATTENDING FUNERAL

Also there is great reward in it. It was narrated that Abu Hurayrah (RadiyAllahu ‘anhu) said: The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said: “Whoever attends a funeral until he offers the (funeral) prayer will have one qiraat (of reward) and whoever attends until the burial is done will have two Qiraats.” It was said: “What are the two Qiraats?” He said: “Like two great mountains.” (Narrated by al-Bukhaari, 1261; Muslim, 945)

Unfortunately we see that this is only done by the family and friends whereas the great rewards mentioned in the Hadeeth is not limited to them, it is for any Muslim who finds out about the funeral, attends it and follows it till it is buried.

It serves as a reminder of the inevitable that is death for all of us, the Prophet ﷺ said, “‘Frequently remember the destroyer of pleasures,’ meaning death.” (TIrmidhi, Nisai'‘i & Ibn Majah).

Witnessing the burial reminds us that how we will be there alone in the dark and how the family will leave us there, it is us who needs to face the angels and the trials of the grave and eventually the Day of Judgement.

HOW TO PERFORM THE JANAZA (FUNERAL) PRAYER.

The prayer over the deceased person takes the following form:

The funeral prayer has neither Adhaan nor lqamah.

The deceased is laid down on the ground with the face directed towards the Ka'bah.

Where the deceased is a male, the Imam would stand facing towards the head of the dead body, while, if the deceased is a woman the Imam would stand facing the middle part of the dead body. Meanwhile, the congregation would be standing behind him in rows.

The funeral prayer is performed with one standing only and has neither bows (Ruku’s) nor prostration (Sujuuds).

STEPS TO BE FOLLOWED

First Takbir said. (#1)

Surah al-Fatihah read + another Surah (desirable).

Second Takbir said. (#2)

Then recite Salah on Ibrahim and Muhammad (SallAllahu ‘alaihi wa Sallam)

Next Takbir (#3)

Du’a for the person who has died from the Sunnah (mentioned below).

Next Takbir (#4)

Pause a little.

Then Taslimah – one Taslim to the right is what majority of the Scholars say is the Sunnah but some also say that Two Taslims is also fine. We need to follow the Imam.

DU’A TO BE RECITED FOR AN ADULT

اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِحَيِّنَا وَمَيِّتِنَا وَشَاهِدِنَا وَغَائِبِنَا وَصَغِيرِنَا وَكَبِيرِنَا وَذَكَرِنَا وَأُنْثَانَا

اللَّهُمَّ مَنْ أَحْيَيْتَهُ مِنَّا فَأَحْيِهِ عَلَى الإِسْلاَمِ وَمَنْ تَوَفَّيْتَهُ مِنَّا فَتَوَفَّهُ عَلَى الإِيمَانِ

اللَّهُمَّ لاَ تَحْرِمْنَا أَجْرَهُ وَلاَ تُضِلَّنَا بَعْدَهُ

‘Allahummaghfir lihayyinaa wa mayyitinaa, wa shaahidinaa wa ghaa’ibinaa, wa sagheerinaa wa kabeerinaa, wa dhakarinaa wa unthanaa. Allahumma mann ahyaitahu minnaa faahyihi ‘alal-Islam, wa mann tawaffaytahu minnaa fa tawaffahu ‘alal- Iman. Allahumma laa tahrimnaa ajrahu wa laa tudillanaa ba’dah.

O Allah, forgive our living and our dead, those who are present and those who are absent, our young and our old, our males and our females. O Allah, whomever of us You cause to live, let him live in Islam, and whomever of us You cause to die, let him die in (a state of) faith. O Allah, do not deprive us of his reward, and do not let us go astray after him.

DU’A TO BE RECITED FOR A CHILD

This supplication is made when the deceased is a baby/child (i.e. one not having reached the age of puberty). When the prayer is offered for a child, there should be no prayer for forgiveness, and it should not be said in the prayer “Allaahumma aghfir lahu (O Allah forgive him),” because no sins were recorded for him. Rather prayers should be said for forgiveness and mercy for his parents.

اللهُـمِّ اجْعَلْـهُ فَرَطـاً وَذُخْـراً لِوالِـدَيه، وَشَفـيعاً مُجـاباً،

اللهُـمِّ ثَـقِّلْ بِهِ مَوازيـنَهُما، وَأَعْـظِمْ بِهِ أُجـورَهُـما، وَأَلْـحِقْـهُ بِصالِـحِ الـمؤْمِنـين،

وَاجْعَلْـهُ في كَفـالَةِ إِبْـراهـيم، وَقِهِ بِرَحْمَـتِكَ عَذابَ الْجَـحيم

Allâhumma j’alhu faratan wa dhukhran li-wâlidayhi, wa shafî’an mujâban.

Allâhumma thaqqil bihi mawâzînahumâ, wa a’zim bihi ijûrahumâ, wa alhiqhu bi-sâlihi-l-mu’minîneen, wa j’alhu fî kafâlati Ibrâhîma, wa qihi bi-Rahmatika ‘adhâba-l-Jahîm.

‘O Allah, make him a preceding reward and a stored treasure for his parents, and an answered intercessor. O Allah, through him, make heavy their scales and magnify their reward. Unite him with the righteous believers, place him under the care of Ibraheem, and protect him by Your mercy from the torment of Hell.’

NOTE

The person should follow the Imam in the number of Tasleems to finish if he makes one we make one if he makes two we follow. But the majority of Scholars say better to make one Tasleem.

The largest possible number of Muslims should be invited to the Funeral, they should be arranged in a minimum of three rows.

Raising hands for all the Takbeers is the view of Majority of the Scholars but some also are of the view that raising only for the first one is required and one does not need to raise the hands for the others.

If a person joins the funeral prayer while the Imam is about to complete the same, then, the person would continue with the congregation until when the Imam concludes the prayer, then, the person would complete by himself whatever he missed of the prayer following the above procedure.

If a late-comer fears that the body of the deceased may be taken away before he completes the pray over him, then, such a person may only come up with the Words of greatness i.e. "ALLAHU AKBAR" four times without necessarily reciting the required supplications. The person thereafter, comes up with the words of peace, thereby, ending the prayer.

If a person is unable to pray over a deceased person before burial, then, it is permitted for him to pray over the deceased's grave.

If a person who is faraway is told of the death of a friend or family member (who he would have prayed the Funeral for, if he was in town), then such a person may pray over the deceased person in absentia with the intention as though the deceased is actually before him/her.

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drmaqazi · 24 days

Text

SALATUL JANAZAH

FUNERAL PRAYERS & RULINGS

In another narration, the number one hundred (100) was mentioned instead of forty (40+.

So strive to offer Funeral prayers and try and get as many Righteous Muslims to attend the Funeral prayer and request them to pray for the deceased.

RULING

The funeral prayer is a communal obligation (Fard Kifaayah) that must be offered for anyone who dies and was apparently Muslim, even if he or she committed major sins.

An-Nawawi (Rahiunullah ‘alaihi) said: Offering the funeral prayer for the deceased is a communal obligation with no difference of opinion among us, which means there is (scholarly) consensus.

REWARD OF ATTENDING FUNERAL

HOW TO PERFORM THE JANAZA (FUNERAL) PRAYER.

The prayer over the deceased person takes the following form:

The funeral prayer has neither Adhaan nor lqamah.

The deceased is laid down on the ground with the face directed towards the Ka'bah.

The funeral prayer is performed with one standing only and has neither bows (Ruku’s) nor prostration (Sujuuds).

STEPS TO BE FOLLOWED

First Takbir said. (#1)

Surah al-Fatihah read + another Surah (desirable).

Second Takbir said. (#2)

Then recite Salah on Ibrahim and Muhammad (SallAllahu ‘alaihi wa Sallam)

Next Takbir (#3)

Du’a for the person who has died from the Sunnah (mentioned below).

Next Takbir (#4)

Pause a little.

Then Taslimah – one Taslim to the right is what majority of the Scholars say is the Sunnah but some also say that Two Taslims is also fine. We need to follow the Imam.

DU’A TO BE RECITED FOR AN ADULT

اللَّهُمَّ لاَ تَحْرِمْنَا أَجْرَهُ وَلاَ تُضِلَّنَا بَعْدَهُ

DU’A TO BE RECITED FOR A CHILD

اللهُـمِّ اجْعَلْـهُ فَرَطـاً وَذُخْـراً لِوالِـدَيه، وَشَفـيعاً مُجـاباً،

وَاجْعَلْـهُ في كَفـالَةِ إِبْـراهـيم، وَقِهِ بِرَحْمَـتِكَ عَذابَ الْجَـحيم

Allâhumma j’alhu faratan wa dhukhran li-wâlidayhi, wa shafî’an mujâban.

Allâhumma thaqqil bihi mawâzînahumâ, wa a’zim bihi ijûrahumâ, wa alhiqhu bi-sâlihi-l-mu’minîneen, wa j’alhu fî kafâlati Ibrâhîma, wa qihi bi-Rahmatika ‘adhâba-l-Jahîm.

NOTE

The person should follow the Imam in the number of Tasleems to finish if he makes one we make one if he makes two we follow. But the majority of Scholars say better to make one Tasleem.

The largest possible number of Muslims should be invited to the Funeral, they should be arranged in a minimum of three rows.

If a person is unable to pray over a deceased person before burial, then, it is permitted for him to pray over the deceased's grave.

0 notes

neonshrine · 3 months

Text

Yesterday it was 13 years.

For some reason the only way that I can like wrap my head around it being 13 years is by thinking of it as "his death is a teenager." There were kids born in 2011 that are becoming teenagers. It's such a weird thought, and has absolutely nothing to do with Robby. Death can't be a "teenager."

When my mom broke the news to me, I have never felt so numb in my entire life. I didn't cry for hours. It wasn't until Becca (Robby, Becca and I were sort of the Three Musketeers of the neighborhood, if you will), came over that I finally cried. It didn't feel real, and in a lot of ways it still doesn't.

His parents asked me and Becca to speak at his funeral. I didn't get to go. I had a 102.7 degree fever. I went to the viewing with a 101 degree fever because I refused to miss it. One of my biggest regrets is not going to his funeral. I know funerals are for the living and not the dead, and I probably wouldn't have gotten through any words I would've hastily slapped together but I will always feel like I let him down by not going.

His dad and step-mom had a small get together that weekend for the neighborhood people to stop in and out. I was well enough to attend that, and just sat in Robby's bedroom in the basement. His dad came down to sit with me and let me cry on him for what felt like hours. It was probably one of the most selfish things I had ever done. Crying to the man who had just lost his oldest son. I apologized another day for being so insanely unthoughtful. I'll never forget his response.

"Why wouldn't I want to comfort my daughter when she lost her brother?"

I remember Becca being the first one to anger, which at the time pissed me off. She'd throw out things about it being "selfish," and she'd never forgive him for leaving us. In retrospect, I understand it now. We both know a lot more about addiction and how it impacts everyone in vastly different ways. Becca was always more of the "he needs tough love," approach. I was always more of the "he has to figure it out on his own," approach.

Sometimes I think Becca still holds me partially responsible for Robby not getting the help he needed. I don't think she means to. I think if I straight up asked her she'd tell me she doesn't, but I think it's because I was just as young and stupid and would frequently get high as well. I never used the hard stuff that he did, but that's no excuse. I really fucked it up. How could he possibly listen to him beg and plead to get help, when I was getting high as well? Yeah, weed and heroin are very very different beasts - but he'd give me the most infuriating "really?" look, and I had no backbone with him. I didn't want the fight. I didn't want the last things he said to me to be things out of anger.

Goddamn it was a lot for me to deal with for as long as I did - as young as I was.

There's still a debate to this day between friends and family about whether the "accidental overdose" was accidental or not. There's no doubt he died of a heroin overdose. Toxicology reports don't lie. Robby suffered from severe depression and had one prior suicide attempt when he was 15. His parents divorced when he was 3, his dad remarried (I was never a fan of his step-mom), had two more boys and adopted a daughter from Russia. Robby lived with his mom who never remarried, who (from what Robby told me) bad mouthed his dad religiously, and who wouldn't want him to even visit his dad. Depression also ran in his family. One time he told me he thought he was cursed. "All [redacted] men have severe depression. Our family curse."

Some believe he overdosed on purpose and they had been concerned for weeks that he was going to do something. Some think it was purely an accident but are glad he's "at peace."

Fucking bullshit, man. That wasn't peace. That's no way to go out.

Me? I don't have an opinion. All I know is my brother died. I don't care if he did it on purpose or if he did it accidentally. He just is no longer here.

For some reason 13 years hit me hard. The first was brutal. Year two was hard. Years three and four were... okay. Year five was rough because of that arbitrary milestone. Years six through nine, I feel like were easy. I think one of those years I actually forgot until a week later and then proceeded to feel insanely guilty. Year 10 was hard - another arbitrary milestone. Years 11 and 12... were fine. So why 13?

Robby's youngest brother Matthew is the age that Robby was when he died, and for some reason that hit hard. Matt reached out and said he was having a hard time with knowing that his birthday is in four months, and couldn't stop thinking about what Robby had been doing four months before his birthday (which is March 5 - so November 2010) that he didn't get to see. That it was an eerie feeling to be having. He said Colin (Robby's other younger brother) hadn't had that feeling. I don't know why, but this all bothered me even more. His brothers have gone 13 years without him. They went from being babies to grown men and Robby never saw any of it.

A lot of times I think about all of the things I've experienced that I didn't get to share with Robby. He never got to see me get something back from Mike, which I know would've made him roll his eyes. He didn't get to come to my housewarming party. He wasn't there to help pick up the pieces when I last got my heartbroken. He wasn't there to threaten to beat up my old boss. He didn't get to go to Becca's baby shower. He has no idea her son is named after him.

I miss him.

What died didn't stay dead. You're alive, you're alive in my head.

Here's 13 things one has to know about Robby:

1.) Him and I would play house, and one time he legitimately got upset and cried because he wanted to be the family dog and not the daddy.

2.) One time, we tried climbing out of his bedroom window using kite string. His dad put a stop to that one real fast.

3.) When I had my first kiss, he was the first person I told. He told me that was disgusting and I would probably get a disease and die.

4.) Years later he told me he had just been mad he hadn't been my first kiss because he thought it would be easier to practice on me until he got it right but could never figure out how to tell me that. Romantic.

5.) He was in a fairly popular pop punk band that did Warped Tour and what not. They were on the verge of actually making it when he died. Sometimes I wonder if the pressure was too much.

6.) He had a Collie named "Tillie."

7.) He had a very strange love for Dr. Dre. I have no idea where or how it started. It was like one day he didn't know a thing about Dre and the next he knew everything.

8.) He swore up and down Hoobastank was amazing and ahead of their time. We saw them open for Incubus and at the end of their set he just goes "TOLD YOU."

9.) When we were three, our moms took us to the theatre for the first time. I have no idea what we saw. What I do know is Robby and I fell asleep in the same seat and missed the entire movie.

10.) Every summer him and his dad would hold a wiffle ball party. It was all very serious. We'd make banners to hang on the fence line. The adults would get t-shirts printed so we'd have uniforms.

11.) He was an artist. He played guitar. He wrote song lyrics. He sketched all the time. His brain was always creating.

12.) He tried teaching me to skateboard once. It didn't go well and he blamed it on me being short. It had nothing to do with me being short.

13.) He would've laid his life down, no hesitation, for anyone and everyone that he cared about.

I miss him terribly.

I know my brother he went one way, and at the fork I heard him say: "Don't you follow, don't go making my mistakes." And I realized what he meant, don't kill yourself to raise the dead. It never works you'll only end up joining them.

For awhile after his death all I wanted to do not feel anything, so I drank. A lot. I've been drinking a lot. The last two months I've had more than I have in a very very long time. I didn't even realize why I was drinking so much until yesterday, when I had my last one and the thought of actually having to like sit with my thoughts sober was not a really enticing idea. It's still not. I'm drinking as I'm typing this, but I've at least recognized WHY I've been drinking like I have been. I don't want to join Robby. I just need to get myself together.

If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around. I know better, but I still feel you all around. I know better, but you're still around.

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dailytafsirofquran · 4 months

Text

Tafsir Ibn Kathir: Surah Ibrahim Ayah 27

In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.

14:27 Allah will keep firm those who believe, with the word that stands firm in this world, and in the Hereafter.

And Allah will cause the wrongdoers to go astray, and Allah does what He wills.

Allah keeps the Believers Firm in This Life and in the Hereafter with a Word that stands Firm

Allah says;

Allah will keep firm those who believe, with the word that stands firm in this world, and in the Hereafter. And Allah will cause the wrongdoers to go astray, and Allah does what He wills.

Al-Bukhari recorded that Al-Bara bin Azib, may Allah be pleased with him, said that the Messenger of Allah said,

When the Muslim is questioned in the grave, he will testify that, `La ilaha illallah', and that Muhammad is Allah's Messenger, hence Allah's statement,

Allah will keep firm those who believe, with word that stands firm in this world, and in the Hereafter.

Muslim and the rest of the Group recorded it. Imam Ahmad recorded that Al-Bara bin Azib said,

"We went with the Messenger of Allah to attend a funeral procession of an Ansari man. We reached the grave site when it had not yet been completed. The Messenger of Allah sat, and we sat all around him, as if there were birds hovering above our heads. The Prophet was holding a piece of wood in his hand, poking the ground with it. He next raised his head and said twice or thrice,

Seek refuge with Allah from the punishment of the grave.

He said next,

When a believing slave is reaching the end of his term in the life of this world and the beginning of his term in the Hereafter, a group of angels, whose faces are white and as radiant as the sun, will descend onto him from heaven.

They will carry with them white shroud from Paradise, and fragrance for enshrouding from Paradise. They will sit as far from him as the sight goes. Then, the angel of death, will come until he sits right next to his head, saying, "O, good and pure soul! Depart (your body) to Allah's forgiveness and pleasure.''

So the soul flows (out of its body), just as the drop flows out from the tip of the jug, and the angel of death captures it.

When he captures the soul, they (the group of angels) will not leave it with him for more than an instance, and they will seize it and wrap it in that shroud, and in that fragrance. A most pleasant musk scent ever found on the earth, will flow out of the soul, and the angels will ascend it (to heaven).

They will not pass by, but they will say, "Whose is this Tayyib (good) soul?''

They (the angels who are ascending the soul) will reply, "Such person, the son of such and such person,'' -- calling him by the best names that he used to be called in the world.

They will reach the lower heaven and will ask that its door be opened for him, and it will be opened for them. The best residents of every heaven will then see him to the next heaven, until he is brought to the seventh heaven.

Allah, the Exalted and Ever High, will say, "List my servants record in `Illiyyin and send him back to earth, for I have created them from it, and into it I shall return them, and from it I shall bring them out once again.''

The soul will be joined with its body, and two angels will come to him, sit him up and ask him, "Who is your Lord?''

He will say, "Allah is my Lord.''

They will ask him, "What is your religion?''

He will say, "My religion is Islam.''

They will say to him, "What do you say about this man (Prophet Muhammad) who was sent to you?''

He will say, "He is the Messenger of Allah.''

They will ask him, "And what proof do you have about it?''

He will say, "I read the Book of Allah (the Qur'an), and had faith and belief in him.''

Then, a caller (Allah) will herald from heaven, "My servant has said the truth. Therefore, furnish him from Paradise, and let him wear from (the clothes of) Paradise, and open a door for him to Paradise.''

So he is given from Paradise's tranquility and good scent, and his grave will be expanded for him as far as his sight can reach.

Then, a man, with a handsome face and handsome clothes and whose scent is pleasant, will come to him, saying, "Receive the glad tidings with that which pleases you. This is the Day which you were promised.''

He will ask him, "Who are you; for yours is the face that carries the good news''

He will reply, "I am your good works.''

He will say, "O Lord! Hurry up with the commencement of the Hour, hurry up with the commencement of the Hour, so I can return to my family and my wealth.''

And when the disbelieving person is reaching the end of his term in the world and the beginning of his term in the Hereafter, there will descend onto him from heaven angels with dark faces. They will bring with them Musuh, and will sit as far from him as the sight reaches.

Then the angel of death will come forward and sit right next to his head, saying, "O impure, evil soul! Depart (your body) to the anger of Allah and a wrath from Him.''

The soul will scatter throughout his body, and the angel of death will seize it as when the thorny branch is removed from wet wool.

The angel of death will seize the soul, and when he does, they (the group of angels) will not let it stay in his hand for more than an instance, and they will wrap it in the Musuh.

The most putrid smell a dead corpse can ever have on earth will emit from the soul, and the angels will ascend with it.

Whenever they pass by a group of angels, they will ask, "Whose is this evil soul?''

The angels will respond, "He is such person son of such person,'' -- calling him by the worst names he was known by in the world.

When they reach the lowest heaven, they will request that its door be opened for him, and their request will be denied.

Then the Prophet peace be upon him, recited:

"For them the gates of heaven will not be opened, and they will not enter Paradise until the camel goes through the eye of the needle.'' (7:40)

Allah will declare, "List his record in Sijjin in the lowest earth.''

The wicked soul will then be thrown (from heaven).

"And whoever assigns partners to Allah, it is as if he had fallen from the sky, and the birds had snatched him, or the wind had thrown him to a far off place.'' (22:31)

His soul will be returned to his body, and two angels will come to him, sit him up and ask him, "Who is your Lord?''

He will say, "Oh, oh! I do not know.''

They will ask him, "What is your religion?''

and he will say, "Oh, oh! I do not know.''

They will ask him, "What do you say about this man (Prophet Muhammad) who was sent to you?''

He will say, "Oh, oh, I do not know!''

A caller (Allah) will herald from heaven, "My servant has lied, so furnish him with the Fire and open a door for him to the Fire.''

He will find its heat and fierce hot wind. And his grave will be reduced in size, until his bones crush each other.

Then, a man with a dreadful face, wearing dreadful clothes and with a disgusting smell emitting from him will come to him, saying, "Receive the glad tidings with that which will displease you! This is the Day that you have been promised.''

He will ask that man, "And who are you, for yours is the face that brings about evil?'

He will say, "I am your evil work.''

He will therefore cry, "O, my Lord! Do not commence the Hour!''

Abu Dawud and Ibn Majah collected this Hadith.

In his Musnad, Imam Abd bin Humayd recorded that Anas bin Malik said that the Messenger of Allah said,

Verily, when the servant is placed in his grave and his friends (or family) depart, as he hears the sound of their shoes, two angels will come to him. They will sit him up and ask him, `What do you say about this man (Muhammad)?'

As for the believer, he will say, `I bear witness that He is Allah's servant and Messenger.'

He will be told, `Look at your seat in the Fire, Allah has replaced it for you with a seat in Paradise.'

The Prophet said next,

So he will see both seats. Qatadah added,

"We were told that his grave will be enlarged up to seventy forearms length and will be filled with greenery for him until the Day of Judgement.''

Muslim collected this Hadith also from Abd bin Humayd, while An-Nasa'i collected it from Yunus bin Muhammad bin Al-Mu'addah.

Al-Hafiz Abu Isa At-Tirmidhi, may Allah grant him mercy, recorded that Abu Hurayrah said that the Messenger of Allah said,

When the dead - or one of you - is buried, two dark and blue angels will come to him; one is called `Munkir' and the other is called `Nakir'.

They will ask him, `What did you say about this man (Muhammad)?'

He will reply, `What he used to say, that he is Allah's servant and Messenger. I bear witness that there is no true deity except Allah and that Muhammad is His servant and Messenger.'

They will say, `We know that you used to say that,' and his grave will be made larger for him to seventy forearms length by seventy forearms length and will be filled with light for him.

He will be told, `Sleep,' but he will reply, `Let me go back to my family in order that I tell them.'

They will say, `Sleep, just like the bridegroom who is awakened by the dearest of his family, until Allah resurrects him from that sleep.'

If he was a hypocrite, his answer will be, `I do not know! I heard people say something, so I used to repeat what they were saying.'

They will say, `We know that you used to say that.' The earth will be commanded, `Come closer all around him,' and it will come closer to him until his ribs cross each other. He will remain in this torment, until Allah resurrects him from his sleep.

At-Tirmidhi said, "This Hadith is Hasan, Gharib.''

Abu Hurayrah narrated that the Messenger of Allah said,

Allah will keep firm those who believe, with the word that stands firm in this world, and in the Hereafter.

When he will be asked in the grave, `Who is your Lord?

What is your religion?

Who is your Prophet?'

He will reply, `Allah is my Lord, Islam is my religion and Muhammad is my Prophet who brought the clear proofs from Allah. I believed in him and had faith in him.'

He will be told, `You have said the truth; you have lived on this, died on it and will be resurrected on it.'

Ibn Jarir At-Tabari recorded that Abu Hurayrah said that the Prophet said,

By He Who owns my life! The dead person hears the sound of your slippers (or shoes) when you depart and leave him.

If he is a believer, the prayer will stand by his head, Zakah to his right and the fast by his left; the righteous deeds, such as charity, keeping relations with kith and kin and acts of kindness to people will stand by his feet.

He will be approached from his head, and the prayer will declare, `No entrance from my side.'

He will be approached from his right, and Zakah will declare, `There is no entrance from my side.'

He will be approached from his left, and the fast will declare, `There is no entrance from my side.'

He will be approached from his feet, and the acts of righteousness will declare, `There is no entrance from our side.'

He will be commanded to sit up, and he will sit up while the sun appears to him just like when it is about to set.

He will be told, `Tell us about what we are going to ask you.'

He will say, `Leave me until I pray.'

He will be told, `You will pray, but first tell us what we want to know.'

He will ask, `What are your questions?'

He will be told, `This man who was sent among you, what do you say about him and what is your testimony about him?'

He will ask, `Muhammad?'

He will be answered in the positive and he will reply, `I bear witness that he is the Messenger of Allah and that he has brought us the proofs from our Lord. We believed in him.'

He will be told, `This is the way you lived and died and Allah willing, you will be resurrected on it.'

His grave will be made wider for him seventy forearms length, and it will be filled with light. A door will also be opened for him to Paradise.

He will be told, `Look at what Allah has prepared for you in it.'

He will increase in joy and delight and then his soul will be placed with the pure souls, inside green birds eating from the trees of Paradise. The body will be returned to its origin, dust. So Allah said,

Allah will keep firm those who believe, with the word that stands firm in this world, and in the Hereafter.

Ibn Hibban collected this Hadith, and his narration added the disbeliever's answer and his torment.

Abdur-Razzaq recorded that Tawus said,

Allah will keep firm those who believe, with the word that stands firm in this world,

is in reference to La ilaha ilallah, while,

and in the Hereafter

is in reference to the questioning in the grave.

Qatadah commented,

"As for this life, Allah will make them firm on the, way of righteousness and good deeds (and in the Hereafter), in the grave.''

Several others among the Salaf said the same.

#allah #quran #revert #dua #islam #help #religion #revert help #ayat #hadith #revert help team

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