#‘he’s making it very difficult to convince him not to stab me!’ ‘i don’t want to stab you’

[tjwritesfanfics]

Perfect plan (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Unsub!Reader

Summary: You had no problem teaming up with George Foyet if it meant you could get rid of Haley Hotchner.

Rating: Angst

Warning: Death, killing, no one knows the reader is involved, a lot of cm darkness and unsettling nature, the reader is very convinced she's doing the right thing

Words: 1809

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

An thank you to @tudorscrown for the idea!

You've loved Aaron Hotchner since high school. 

He's loved Haley since then too. And she won. Not that she deserved him. The only good thing to come from her was Jack. Sweet little Jack was the only thing keeping you from killing Haley right out. Instead you became “best friends” with her. That way you could spend as much time with Aaron and Jack as you wanted. 

You were there to watch her grow insecure with Aaron being away all the time, pretending to comfort her and reassure her of how much he loved her and jack. Honestly you were amazed by your own acting skills and the ability to hold back what you truly wanted to say to her.

Aaron is the best husband.

You’re such a bitch and don’t deserve his love.

He should be with me.

You are so lucky you have the sweetest little boy on the planet otherwise I would snap your fucking neck.

But you held back.

Even when Haley and Aaron divorced, you knew his heart still belonged to her, leaving no room for you. You knew that if you were to have him all to yourself, she would have to die.

It was only a matter of time that you met George Foyet. He came up to you, planning on killing you, the start of his plan to get back at Aaron, but you convinced him that you knew a better way.

Why just kill the people Aaron Hotchner was close to? Why not do a little psychological torture first? George liked the way you thought and, though begrudgingly, agreed to spare Jack. That took some time for him to agree with, but you refused to help him and in fact actively worked against him and promised him he would never get revenge.

Deep inside he knew you would and make his plans ten times more difficult, so he agreed. He just needed a little bit of insurance first. And that is why he stabbed you several times before leaving you bleeding in the park. Reaching for your phone, you called Aaron.

“A Aaron...”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” You smile hearing the panic in his voice. Ah to know how much he loved you. “What happened?”

“Foyet-" You swallow the pain of the wounds starting to really hurt. You would have to remember to return the favor when you saw him again. "H he…”

You needed to say no more for Aaron to spring into action, getting your location by Garcia hacking into your phone, calling 911, and rushing to your side. He held your hand in the ambulance as you weakly recalled the “events” of the evening to him. How Foyet approached you, said something about a deal, and proceeded to stab you.

“Shhh,” Aaron brushed back your hair, “You did good. Rest now.” You close your eyes, his presence warming your heart.

It was only a matter of time before Aaron realized that Foyet would come after you again plus his ex-wife and son. He knew he would have to protect you all by putting you in Witness Protection and sending you far away.

It was only a matter of time before Aaron realized that Foyet would come after you again plus his ex-wife and son. He knew he would have to protect you all by putting you in Witness Protection and sending you far away.

You kept Foyet in the loop on not only your location, but the location of Haley and Jack, who both of the handlers assigned to your cases. In turn he gave you updates on Aaron.

Though you were used to not seeing him for long periods of time, you were missing him. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of being with Aaron and Jack.

Finally, the day came.

You were seated beside Jack, watching Foyet and him play with his little toy soldiers, your emotions completely in check as to not give away the ending of this day or how giddy you were about it.

“Here. Call this number.” Foyet handed Haley the phone. She pressed call, placing it on speaker, freezing when Aaron’s voice came over the phone. “Foyet.”

“Aaron? You’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

She looked so confused until Foyet looked up at her, the pieces falling into place. “Oh Aaron.” She breathed, tears welling in her eyes.

“He can hear us, right?”

“Yes.” She wiped at her face, her tears sparking more joy in you. “I am so sorry.”

“Haley, show him no weakness. No fear.”

“I know… Sam and Y/n told me all about him.”

“Is she there with you? Is Jack?” Always the caring man, checking in on your and his son. “They are. I is he?”

“No, Sam is fine.”

You and Foyet knew Kassmeyer was dead, he had to pretend to figure out where he would get your locations without revealing your involvement. He told you that he was going to stop by there and kill him for a little bit of fun.

“Oh Aaaron, Aaron, Aaron-” You didn’t like the condescending voice he was using towards him. “Is that why your marriage fell apart? Because you’re a liar?”

You bit the inside of your cheek so you didn’t roll your eyes. Aaron wasn’t a liar, he was just a protector of the truth. Turning back to Jack, you push back his hair, assuring him everything was going to be okay as you fill your eyes with terror passing between Foyet and Haley.

“Tell Jack I need him working the case.”

Haley nods, looking over to Jack and you. “Jack? Did you hear that?” Jack jumped up from his spot, rushing to his mother to take the phone. “Hi daddy.”

You couldn't help but smile a little at Jack. He was such a sweet little boy and honestly didn’t deserve to deal with this. It was the only guilt you held being a part in all of this.

Aaron told Jack that he needed him working the case with him again before telling him to hug his mother. Haley squeezed him tight, knowing this would be the last time she got to ever hold him before letting him go, watching him run out the room.

“He’s so cute. Like a little junior G man.” Foyet watched Jack go before calling out, “I’ll be right out Jackie-boy!”

You glare at him, daring him to even think about going after that little ball of wonder, but Foyet seemed to ignore you, his mind already made up. Standing, you made your way over to Haley, taking her hand in yours and giving it a squeeze, trying to convince her you were her friend up until the very end.

Foyet saw the act of comfort, scoffing as he pointed the gun at you. “I want you to wait in the other room.” Haley gripped your hand tighter, not wanting to lose her only lifeline besides her ex-husband on the phone. You tried to stay, moving yourself behind her, appearing like you don’t want to leave her side, but you really wanted the satisfaction of seeing her get shot. You waited for years for this bitch to die, and you weren’t going to let Foyet take that away.

“Come on, come on.” Foyet took your arm, taking you to the other room. “I’ll get to you in a second, beautiful.” You cringe at the sound of his voice. He really was going to leave you here? In a normal situation, someone would try to fight back while he is distracted, but all you did was lean against the wall, waiting and listening.

Haley talked about love, and it made you sick. Love. She didn’t love him; not like you did. Your anger was quickly dissipated by the sound of several gunshots.

You poke your head back into the other room, a wicked grin spreading across your face. Before saying anything you walk over and pick up the phone Haley held in her dead hand, making sure the call was ended. The last thing you needed was to accidentally give yourself away.

Before you could say anything though, the clicking sound of the safety and the cold steel of Foyet’s gun pressed into your back. “I should have seen this coming, honestly.”

“You should have, but I’m not going to kill you.”

“Oh?”

Foyet lowered his gun, rounding to the front of you, a grin of his own on his lips. “Nope. I am going to leave you alive and then when Aaron gets here, I am going to let him know that it was you that led me to his wife and kid. So, while they are dead, you live, and he hates you.”

You stood in silence as he told you his master plan, just like a real super villain, it was honestly kind of funny to hear. You saw his plan coming a mile away, but let him play it out because you had a trick up your own sleeve.

In a flash, you grab his arm, yanking him forward and throwing him off while your other hand grabs his gun. The two of you continue to wrestle, falling to the ground, rolling around before the loud sound of a gun rang in your ears.

You pull back, peering down at Foyet as his wide eyes stare up at you, his hand gripping his stomach as blood seeped from his now fresh gun wound.

“I knew you would try and kill me, but I wasn’t going to let you.” You aim the gun at his head. “You see the difference between you and me, George, is that I’m not pride driven. Just in love.”

He laughed. “Love?! You don’t love him! You’re obsessed! You think just because you get his wife out of the way he’ll just suddenly accept you?!”

You clench your jaw, pressing the gun harder into his forehead. “He will! I will help him and Jack through this tough time! He loves me!” You take a deep breath to center yourself. Foyet was just trying to buy time until Aaron showed up to catch you in the act. Chucking at his ploy, you smile.

“I see what you were doing, but it’s not going to work. Because unlike you, I’m not sloppy.”

You pull the trigger. Ending the terror that was George Foyet.

The door banged open, Aaron rushing in to see you standing over Foyet’s dead body, gun in your hand and Haley dead on the floor. “Aarron!”

He was numb, tears streaking down his face as he went to Haley, clenching her tightly as his stoic composure finally broke. It hurt you to see him like this, but you knew it was for the best. “I’m so sorry Aaron.” Tears welling in your eyes, dropping the gun.

“You..” Aaron pulled back from Haley, taking your hand into his, “There was nothing you could do.”

You grip his hand tightly, knowing that right now he would hurt, but once the two of you find Jack only time, and you, would heal his heart.

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

ok my eye kinda twitches when ppl, even jokingly, jab at feyre for not knowing the answer to the riddle immediately because like… that’s the point

setting aside her illiteracy, her not knowing the answer until the very end is the point because she has went through what the riddle says:

“there are those who seek me a lifetime, but never we meet”

feyre seeks love from the people around her, she seeks it from her sisters, from her father, even when she knows it’ll never happen, she seeks it from isacc, and the person she seeks love from the most? her mother. her mother is whole reason she’s hunting. every time she shot an arrow, it was for her mother; are you paying attention to me now, mom? am i good enough now? and this love from her mother is a love she’ll never meet because the bitch is dead

“and those i kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet”

from feyre’s pov, she’s the savior of her family. she’s the one who hunts, she’s the one who keeps them all alive, and that’s how she shows love, and yet (again from her pov) they don’t seem all that appreciative of it.

“as times i seem to favor the clever and the fair”

nesta, the clever and elain, the fair. to feyre, she was always left out of whatever bond nesta and elain had formed with each other before she was born. the love they hold for each other seemed far greater than the love she had for them

“but i bless all those who are brave enough to dare”

and here is where things start to change. her being brave enough to shoot that wolf brings her tamlin, the first person in her life that she has never had to provide for. he takes care of her and most importantly he takes care of her family. he releases her from her self-apointed burden and for the first time in eight years, the only person she’s responsible for keeping alive is herself. tamlin is the reason for all this, that makes him the man she grows to love. she was blessed with him.

“by large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet”

once she’s acclimated to spring (tamlin did forcibly break into her home and knocked her out) feyre’s happy. she left the cottage with the belief that there was no such thing as a better world and completely devoid of hope. compared to when she’s in spring, her biggest worries of the day is trying to convince alis to let her wear pants. tamlin, bar calanmai, is the softest and shiest man she’s ever met. he makes her poems out of words she chose, he encourages her inner artist, he takes her to swim in a pool of starlight, he lets her see the world through his eyes and, even if it was just for a moment, it was mesmerizing.

“but scorned, i become a difficult beast to defeat”

and here is where there’s trouble in paradise. tamlin sends feyre away with his false explanation of the blight, of course feyre doesn’t listen and comes back anyway, and she learns of amarantha. amarantha who tricked all the high lords and rendered them practically powerless against her. and why? because she was scorned by tamlin, who she chased for centuries (eww btw). feyre’s trials are exceptionally difficult, especially the third, because amarantha wanted to prove feyre unworthy of the love she was scorned of, prove the inconsistent heart of a human

“for though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,”

amarantha is beating feyre up, every strike of her hand breaks another one of feyre’s bones. she’s broken and bloody, and at this rate, she is going to die.

“when i kill, i do it slow”

but she’d already been dying, hasn’t she? every second under the mountain, every day in that cell rotting away, every night she was forced to dance, when she broke her arm killing the wyrm, when she was almost skewered by hot spikes, when she had to stab those faeries. it was already killing her, over three slow months. why had she done this again?

oh yeah,

“But I wouldn’t say it. Because loving Tamlin was the only thing I had left, the only thing I couldn’t sacrifice.”

she loves him, your honor

[skulls-soul]

I had an idea for a fanfiction so I wanted to throw it out there for anyone to take a stab at, now with that said.

Imagine with me there’s a dance a masked ball of some sort who knows  but it’s happening at Bowser‘s kingdom,  it’s some sort of celebration amongst the people, you can decide on what they’re celebrating and if it’s a masked ball I just like the idea because it’s dramatic BUT ANYWAYS

Luigis hanging out with princess peach, daisy, and Mario for their bi-monthly teatime or some shiz when a toad with a messenger bag comes up to Luigi and hand him a letter. everyone immediately is like you got a letter from Bowser?!? because it’s pretty obvious with the way the letter is designed But that’s besides the point everyone’s curious what’s in the letter and so Luigi opens the letter right then and their since he’s curious as well.

After a moment of “sort of silence” since Luigi mumbled to himself the words of the letter he’ll very shockingly  say that Bowser is inviting him to (name of advent here)  everyone would be surprised and peach would mention about how she was wondering what was going on with that advent since usually around this time she would get a letter from Bowser asking her to attend the advent

Mario would say something snarky like the only time you’re ever asked to come to his kingdom

Peach would laugh say that it’s probably because he’s busy with preparation for the actual festival and party and then Daisy would pitch in asking what Luigi plans on doing or “what do you think about the whole thing”

And Luigi would say how he’s just wondering what he should wear which would cause Mario to be even more shocked because he expected his brother to refuse since you know, the princess would always refuse to go

 to his surprise his brother actually wants to go 

(I have no idea what Bowser and Luigi‘s relationship is by this point I’d like to think that they’re friends I don’t know how I don’t know why but I do know that Bowser hasn’t kidnapped peach for a while so)

While lost in thought Daisy would start asking about what kind of event it is and say things like since you’re going to be in the Koopa kingdom and that place is usually really warm it should be something light, peach would Pitchin as well say that doesn’t Luigi have a cute somewhat blouse that he can wear that she gave him (I have an idea of what he would wear to an event like this)

 Mario would end up pitching in saying “Luigi you can’t be serious this could be a trap ”  Luigi will try to convince Mario that it’s not a trap which would lead into just more arguing with Mario back-and-forth until the girls will try coming down the situation but Mario completely unconvinced that it’s not a trap will tell Luigi no I’m putting my foot down you’re not going that’s final

Does that stop Luigi from replying with a letter of his own telling Bowser that he’s going to try his best on coming but he doesn’t know because his brother is being difficult, no. does that stop princess peach and daisy helping Luigi find the perfect outfit which would most likely be something that he usually wouldn’t wear but the girls made him feel confident about it, of course not. does that mean that by the time the event comes around Mario is waiting in the kitchen ready to put on his big brother pants, yes.

That does mean though that when Luigi is done taking a shower and prepping up leaving the bathroom rapped in a bathrobe he hears Mario calling him to come over to the kitchen  and so Luigi does cuz he has no reason not to listen to his brother.

clearly he was almost immediately proven wrong because when refusing dinner saying that he doesn’t want to get full before the advent it sparks another argument leading Mario to say that he’s going to stay near the front door all night if it keeps Luigi from making a mistake

( can you guys tell that this version of Mario stems from my big brother to 100% idea because that’s where this kind of stemmed from also I know this kind of paints Mario as a bit of an ass but I want you guys to understand that Mario generally thinks that Luigi could get hurt if he goes to Bowser’s castle willingly and if Luigi does get hurt Mario would feel terribly guilty because he allowed his brother to go into danger)

 this all leads to Luigi basically locking himself in his room  some time passes Luigi doing nothing but maybe writing an apology note for not showing up but when he hears a tapping noise from his window he goes to check if somethings broken after calming himself down sense it did spooked him a bit cuz of the sudden noise

what he sees is Bowser all dressed up with a big grin  merely saying that he thought he would need some help escaping his big brother 

 so Luigi goes to do that getting change as quickly as possible to then jump out his window those he makes sure to write his brother a letter saying sorry for leaving I know you’re just trying to protect me I’ll be back soon if not then at least you can say I told you so

.

.

.

Yeah that’s basically it honestly key components is mario an overprotective brother who doesn’t want Luigi to go to some dance with Bowser, Luigi and Bowser gay for each other, daisies Luigis best friend, and peach is a supportive person because if bowser could fall for someone who loves him back she would no longer have to deal with him….

Honestly might try my hand in writing something but who knows also here’s some art of Luigi’s fit for the dance

Just a small doodle

btw I imagine Bowser made the mask adding swirly plant designs to represent Luigis love of plants and adding horn like triangles in the corners to represent him because Gay and also there’s a fire flower and a mushroom near his cheek as well as a mushroom in the center near his forehead to represent the mushroom kingdom

[gurugirl]

Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry 😕🤧 also I love your ficsss,, they're so goodddd I'm obsessed.

A/n: sorry this took so long! Just a note - I’m not familiar with psoriasis but I did read a little about it before writing this bit. I didn't go into specific detail about it but I hope it's something you were looking for anon. If anything doesn’t sound right let me know!

Warning: none really - reader has psoriasis and feels insecure but this is just fluff 💕 652 words

Lately you were feeling like the skin on your body was revolting. You would go through phases where it was worse than others and while your current psoriasis flare up wasn’t as bad as you’ve had, it still had you feeling insecure and it didn’t feel good, it was difficult to ignore by just covering up.

“You really don’t want to go out tonight? Everyone’s going to be there, babe. C’mon…” Harry spoke into the phone.

That was worse. Everyone? God you’d rather stab your eyes out with a butter knife.

“I’m just not feeling up to it tonight, Harry. You go. You’ll have fun!” You tried to making it sound like you wanted him to go and have fun without you and that you were okay, but the truth was it made you feel very upset. You hated it. You’d love to go out with all your friends and Harry but in the moment, you were not feeling social. You didn’t want to try and find the right outfit and deal with anyone asking you about the lesions on your skin.

You could hear Harry sigh on the line, “I’m coming over.”

He wouldn’t take no for answer. He showed up at your apartment a half hour later and immediately cupped your face and drew you into him with a sweet kiss. You were still getting used to how much Harry didn’t care about your psoriasis. It never bothered him, he never treated you like you were anything but his beautiful girlfriend.

“Let’s find you a cute dress, baby,” he dragged you to your room and brought you to your closet.

“Harry, seriously. You just go. I’ll be fine. I just want to relax at home,” you watched him rummage through your clothes and pull out five different dresses.

He didn’t ignore you per se, because he smirked at you, making eye contact as he walked past you and laid your dresses out on your bed. But he didn’t respond to you verbally either.

He pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side as he looked at the dresses, “Hmm… the blue one is my personal favorite. Would you feel comfortable wearing that one tonight? Or do you like another one?”

You stood next to your boyfriend and rubbed your hands over your face, “Harry…” you looked up at him and pouted, “I just don’t feel pretty today. I don’t think any of them will look good on me.”

Harry shushed you and brought you into his arms, gently swaying you back and forth. He held you close to his body and you leaned your cheek on his chest.

“You’re fucking gorgeous. You can make any of these dresses look good. You’re a goddess. I want my girlfriend with me tonight. Want to show you off and have you by my side all night. I like your company. No one there is half as interesting as you are. Need my girl with me,” he kissed the top of your head and you crumbled.

Harry was always doting on you and telling you how pretty you were. It didn’t always work, but sometimes when he’d really charm you and say sweet things he’d convince you to go out when you were feeling less than pretty.

“Fine. I like the blue too,” you spoke and Harry grasped your arms and held you out so he could look at you.

He had a big, goofy, dimpled grin on his face, “Yeah?! We’ll have fun, babe. I’m so glad you’re gonna come with me!”

You got dressed and did your hair and Harry made you twirl for him, “Hot. Hottest girl in the world. Are you ready for a fun night?” He grabbed your arm and kissed the top of your hand, dragging his lips up your wrist to your forearm.

You laughed and nodded, “I’m ready to have some fun.”

Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it's all appreciated.

Main Masterlist

Xoxo

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @anothermannharry

[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

Okay actually, I’m gonna be the change I want to see in the world— I Know I’m the only person pushing for this, but can you do a ship review on. Light Zeron and Officer Maloney— if you don’t know enough about either character for that,,,, I dunno— Poppy Soup and Sally Acachalla? - overthinkingtaleblr

you CANNOT do this to me I'm INSANE about both of these concepts and I'm gonna do both you fiend! I'm starting with zeron/maloney because I think the idea of that is just below spooker/maxwell for me on deranged (/pos) ships.

Light Zeron/Officer Maloney

so to start us off let's go over the AMAZING dynamic of "world's most pathetic officer of the law" and "vampire security guard on the run"

we know that maloney is. ahem. SHIT at catching criminals, which makes this whole thing work long enough that they Could form a love/hate relationship

god I want a 5k fanfic on this unironically but I would have to write it!!!!

is this post- or pre-vampire? I'm thinking pre BECAUSE imagine!!! imagine the angst

zeron is acting strangely, super out of character. the only person who knows him well enough to figure it out is the man trying to catch him :sobbing:

(also on an unrelated note, they're both aliens which I think is really cute)

look just like. god I'm just shaking my fists irl because I'm so incoherent about this

theyre like. weirdly similar tbh. something about their egos i feel like would both clash heavily and potentially work really well together

IT'S THE PERFECT ENEMIES TO LOVERS SICK FIC GODDAMN

zeron hasn't drunk any blood in ages, (something-something moral quandary something-something starving) and now he's basically passing out from malnutrition, so of course that's the moment maloney spots him in the alley he's squatting in.

and maybe if it were a stranger he would corner them and feed, (its so much easier to drink someone's blood when you can convince yourself that they aren't actually a person, in a weird, convoluted way) but this is someone he knows, maybe even respects. even if they are enemies.

so he doesn't want to drink maloney's blood, and that leaves him with only one other choice - he runs.

he pushes past him and ducks into the nearest abandoned building, hoping to lose maloney in there, but maloney's right behind him.

and meanwhile maloney, so used to their usual back-and-forth banter during fights, is highly confused (maybe a little upset - and fairly worried - if he's being honest) by this behavior.

zeron keeps running but it's clear he won't get much further unless he drinks someone's blood, and now there's literally only one person around - the guy he cares for too much (even if he won't admit it to himself).

be caught or surrender, that's his choice.

it's made for him when maloney catches his wrist - but instead of cuffing him, he spins zeron around, cornering him.

(at this point zeron is wondering if he's about to die a very painful death, but all he can do is stare at maloney's neck.)

maloney oblivious to his surroundings as always, is currently checking zeron over for injuries, and mentally slapping himself because he caught the criminal, why isn't he cuffing him?

this is around the time zeron's resolve breaks - close proximity to a very appetizing meal while starving makes it a bit difficult NOT to partake.

he goes for the neck - literally - and begins drinking like the world is ending. make this part as gay as your little heart desires.

being stabbed in the neck hurts, even more so when they are draining your blood, so maloney quickly pushes zeron off.

but a meal's a meal, and zeron is gone before maloney can even get a word in.

that's all ive got on that for right now haha, so let's hop over to pros and cons!

pros: very fun dynamic, their shared weirdness and the fact that they're both aliens (of different species) could be a bonding point, and they are both like. so so sopping wet and pathetic, they also have similar personalities in a strange way. great potential for hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers and hurt/no comfort fics.

cons: uhhhh. okay so theyre on opposite sides technically, which means any happy ending is gonna have a lot of rough spots, and there's like SO much distrust between them (and light zeron already has issues trusting others)

Conclusion: I'm like SOO biased here so give me a sec to find my center and use logic. Do I think they would work short-term? I feel like they would somehow manage it? like despite everything they'd somehow manage to stay in a not-so-secret kind-of-relationship for at least a year (meanwhile all the news stations are reporting about the two gay people fighting in the street again), and then they'd actually start going on the cheesiest dates ever (and causing pure chaos wherever they went), like coffee dates and amusement park dates and all that shit. everyone would just accept that they're dating and that maloney will probably never catch him but it's Buttsville, NC so what are you gonna do?

at the same time though, I'm sitting here like, what's the long-term gonna look like? does maloney become a criminal? do they get married and settle down? both are hilarious yet tragic because undoubtedly maloney would be a better criminal than police officer but it goes against his perception of himself, and neither is exactly built for domesticity. still, I think they'd manage. somehow it feels like they're too much of a force of nature to let something like that stop them, y'know?

[absurdist-void]

I had a dream I woke up on a couch with Samael. He acted surprisingly normal for a short time.

Then I said something that triggered him into becoming a giant asshole.

I probably said that I didn’t want to be with him because he’s a psychopath. I wanted to be with L, like I’ve always said. Even if he acted normal for 10 minutes, he’s just going to become insane and abusive again. I’m not attracted to people who hold me hostage for 10 years and try to convince me to love them through violence. I’m far too stubborn for that.

He got very angry and creepy. Like he would start spewing venom at any second. It was like a switch flipped.

I’m used to this. It’s common. I don’t play into it. I tend to think it’s funny. I calmly sat there and looked at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum. He would probably stab me for it, but it’s fine. Common Tuesday activities.

He tried to convince me that he’s always been there for me. He told a story about how I came to him in tears when I did something bad. He mocked me by pretending to be me when I came to him. According to his dramatics, I cried hysterically and said that I killed god when I came to him.

I don’t recall killing god. I don’t even believe in god. I had no reason to believe him and found it funny that he would use that story as a way to convince me to like him.

If the physical abuse, rape, and solitary confinement weren’t enough to make me want him, I have no idea why he thought that story would work. I’m just not attracted to insane people. I don’t care if something happened in the past. It’s not a rhetorical device I find compelling.

You’re just not going to make an unstoppable force and an immovable object come to an agreement. I’m far too stubborn and far too experienced with assholes to give in.

I have a very difficult time maintaining attraction to people I voluntarily enjoy. There’s no way it’s going to happen for some asshole who chronically cannot understand the concept of someone saying “no.”

Get out of my dreams and let me go.

[moonrisecalamityretreat]

to hold the mirror up to nature || maxime || trial 6.5 || re: UH OH

Prior to his parents cementing themselves as the first cases of AEDS in Canada, and everything that came after, Maxime had been living what he would consider a very normal life. Sure, he hadn't gotten along with his family very well and was quite stressed for most of it, but those were all mundane issues. The events of the past weren't something he'd bothered to look into more than glances at news coverage. The idea of despair as a tangible concept and organizing people into killing games and a school for people who were "talented" were all completely alien to him.

His greatest concern, upon contracting AEDS, had been preserving the normal life that he had made for himself. Maybe it was callous to consider the disappearance of his parents a boon, but it was. It allowed him to develop a life he was happy with-- having to parent his younger brother aside-- and he wanted nothing more than to hold onto it. He'd claimed in the game that he would rather be boring and normal than anything else, and it was true.

But he wonders, looking at Jinpachi as he kills his brother, how things would have differed had he not immediately dedicated most of his mental state to hiding his condition. Jinpachi was a similar age now to how old he'd been when he realized that without focus, he would no longer be in control of his own mind. The difference, it seemed, was that the need for control had become all-consuming in his life, whereas with Jinpachi...

...Well, it wasn't like the similarities simply ended there. The things Maxime had had to do to keep that control edged dangerously close to mirroring some aspects of Jinpachi and Juzo's relationship. He'd realized this was likely the case, when Miyazaki had continued to emphasize this fact to Loic.

Just as with everything else that might cause him to act in a way outside of his control, Maxime discards this thought. It's a deliberate choice, as with everything, but it's-- difficult. This time, it's difficult to push aside the anger he feels seeing Jinpachi, though he manages it for now. It's like he feels a pressure pushing against the inside of his skull, and though he maintains his normal impassive demeanor, his jaw clenches. One of his eyes briefly flinches closed, as if he's felt the stab of a migraine beginning-- or, well, whatever those always were.

"...So that ridiculous lamb comment was from you?"

He says, very pleasantly. He doesn't have the emotional appeals that his brother has to make, about how Jinpachi could do this to Juzo. Horribly, Maxime knows exactly how he could-- even if he had taken a very different path in his own life, he's felt enough to believe, fully, that someone could end up in a state where they would kill their own brother.

Both he and Jinpachi had used them as scapegoats for murder, after all.

"...I don't have anything of particular import to say to you. Any questions I might have I don't believe are conducive to the end of this trial."

Just like with Miyazaki, he imagines a million things he could ask-- but in this case, he's not sure if he'd want to hear the answers he would get. It might be too similar to looking into a mirror.

"I believe it was your brother, then, who explained how these games end to me, after all... we vote you to die, and you go, isn't that it? Or do you think you're going to do some grand show of convincing us otherwise? I do hope it isn't that you imagine your death would be some big inspirational moment for your followers... I'd tell you to not delude yourself, but I think we're a bit too far gone for that."

[thefrostedfeather52]

🏅 for the ask game!!

🏅 What is the fic you’re most proud of?

a while back i started writing a bare au in which they performed macbeth instead of romeo and juliet, i never finished it, but i handed what i managed to get done in as english coursework (it’s funny because i actually started writing it to avoid a different piece of english coursework).

my teacher gave me 30/30 for it so yeah that’s my answer!

[queenshelby]

The Client (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Domestic Abuse, Sexual Abuse

Words: 2,786

PLEASE ENGAGE AND COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

“Cillian?” you asked with surprise after only having expected to see Dermont in the common area of the facility. You hadn’t seen Cillian for almost 17 years and felt as though you were corned, forced to greet him in a place like this, looking bruised and battered.

“Yes, it’s been a while” Cillian said and, whilst he usually had a good poker face, he couldn’t really hide his emotions when you stood there, right in front of him. One part of him wanted to hug you, hold you close and comfort you. The other part of him wanted to ask you “why”… Why didn’t you leave him earlier? Why did you marry this man? Why didn’t you ask anyone for help?

“I didn’t expect to see you” you stammered nervously while trying to cover up your bruises even though you were very well aware of why he was here, at the shelter. Dermont must have asked him for help but you most certainly didn’t want it.

You were embarrassed by the fact that he saw you like this, hurt and vulnerable and, after Cillian tried to approach you, offering you his assistance, you quickly shook your head.

“Y/N, I just really want to help you. Please let me” he said, looking at you with wide open eyes. They were still as blue as ever and, whilst you had checked out his Facebook profile in the past, you only just remembered how charming and convincing he was, simply by looking at you. These eyes could speak a million words but you wouldn’t fall them. You couldn’t. You needed to be strong and independent.

"I don’t need help Cillian. I'm fine, don't worry about me" you told him even though, the truth was, that your legs started to feel like they were going to break. You were in pain and, emotionally, you were completely drained.  

“You are still quite stubborn, aren’t you” Cillian chuckled and you gave him a smile.

“Yes, I am, and perhaps, one day, we can catch up for a coffee but I am not taking your help. I don’t need help. I can do this on my own” you pointed out again and, by this time, Cillian’s calm facial expression changed and became a sad expression.

“Y/N, common” Dermont begged you and you shook your head again.

“No! And I cannot believe that you misused my trust like this. Clearly, you told Cillian about James. You had no bloody right to do that” you snapped at your brother and he wondered what popped up into your head for the sudden mood change.

Anger had overcome you and, eventually, you began to yell at Demont and Cillian. You were furious about being inundated like this and you felt as though your brother stabbed you in the back by bringing Cillian to the facility.

“I think it is time for you to leave. When she is ready, then perhaps you can visit her again” one of the security personnel said, seeing how wound up you had become and, with that, Cillian suggested to Dermont that it was, indeed, time to go.

Clearly, you needed to get a little more comfortable with the idea of having Cillian involved in your case and knowing what would happen next, he knew that you would come around when the time was right or, if there wasn’t such time, for a lack of choice.

***

Indeed, this time came and it came much faster than Cillian had anticipated. Your husband James had tried to make contact with you on a daily basis only to be knocked back by the security guards at the facility. Luckily, they were rather strict and scary looking and your husband didn’t to argue with them.

Leaving the shelter though was also difficult for you. You were afraid to be out on your own. You were afraid of him and his constant threats. He had left letters for you at the shelter, threatening you and you knew that he had investigators that could easily spy on you if this is what he wanted to do.

He was well connected to the justice and court system in London and often used private eyes to investigate cases of domestic disputes for his clients. He probably knew exactly where you were at any given time and you knew that, in the past, he even tracked your phone and vehicle. It was a rather tricky situation and the worst of it all was that you had nothing with you.

You had no clothes, no money, no phone and no identification.

***

A few days after your encounter with Cillian and your brother, you had built up the strength and attended your local bank branch together with Dermont who had been lending you as much money as he could The bank manager knew you well as James McCullan’s wife and you were not required to provide any kind of identification to him. But, regardless of this, he wouldn’t give you any money.

Your husband had cut you off and cleared out every account which was in joint names. He took everything from you and you had nothing left but the clothes on your back.

“You need a lawyer Y/N and, if you are not going to see Cillian, at least go and see Legal Aid” Dermont urged you on after you left the bank in tears but, the truth was, that you already saw Legal Aid with your case worker, Laura, who was working at the shelter.

Legal Aid couldn’t help you. Their case loads were too high and you were told that, since you could afford it, you should be seeing a private attorney to assist you with your case.

***

In the end, this was what you did three days later.  

During those three days, you had built up all of the courage you could and went to see Cillian at his offices. You were accompanied by Laura, your case worker, for emotional support and had written down everything you considered important.

Dressed in a worn-out pair of jeans, some sneakers and a basic black t-shirt, all of which you were given at the shelter, you travelled downtown into possibly one of the nicest areas of London.

You felt completely out of place in this area but, yet, this district wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Your husband used to work in the exact same street where Cillian’s law firm was located and this, in itself, worried you.

You wondered if he still came here, to this area, on occasion and, if he did, would you be unlucky enough to run into him?

You sure hoped not and, when you reached the high rise building in which you were said to meet Cillian, you sighed with relief. This sense of relief lasted at least until you stepped into the elevator and nervousness immediately sat back in.

But, it wasn’t your husband who you were nervous about now. You were nervous about seeing Cillian and you were nervous about what he might think of you and what questions he might have for you.

He already had asked your case worker for photographic evidence of your injuries and you had already authorized him to get a copy of your discharge papers from the hospital in which you had stayed less than a week ago. This was after your husband had beaten you so badly that you miscarried at nine weeks.

There were allegations of emotional, physical and sexual abuse and you knew that, talking with Cillian about it all, was going to be difficult. You didn’t know how he would react and you were embarrassed about it all. You felt weak and vulnerable and this made you incredibly sick and nauseous.  

***

“You must be Y/N, it is nice to meet you” a woman said, greeting you shortly after you sat down in the waiting room of Cillian’s offices. Him and his partner had about seventy employees and this, in itself, was quite impressive.  

“Yes. It is nice to meet you too” you stammered nervously seeing how nicely the young woman was dressed.

“I am Janette. I am a paralegal and I work for Mr Murphy. He is just on a conference call and asked me to show you to the meeting room. He should be finished soon” she explained while giving you a quick assessment, probably thinking how a woman dressed like this can afford to pay the firm’s legal fees.

“Okay, great” you said nonetheless before you and Laura followed her to a large conference room and Janette offered you each a cup of coffee.

You gladly accepted the coffee and waited for Cillian who, after another ten minutes, came flying through the door.

“I am so sorry” he said, apologizing for being late and, to your surprise, instead of shaking your hand, he gave you a quick hug.  

“It’s okay. Thanks for seeing me and…uhm…I am sorry about last time Cillian. I really am” you stammered after the scent of his aftershave had just left your nostril. He smelled amazing and the navy-blue suit he was wearing really suited him. He still looked like he did eighteen years ago, just a little more mature, with a few grey hairs.

“Don’t be. I am glad you changed your mind” Cillian told you in response before sitting down across from you, right next to Janette who flicked her hair back seductively and smiled.

Cillian then sat there in silence for a moment, looking at you as if he didn’t know what to say and, he probably didn’t. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to tell you that everything will be okay. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to comfort you. Or, perhaps, he just wanted to be the person to help you through your darkest times.

Eventually though, he began to talk and took you through the legal process slowly. He told you what the steps were, including obtaining an AVO, gaining financial support for you and requesting your husband to return your property to you, including your identification documents and mobile phone. He then reassured you that getting custody for your son would not be an issue given his age. He explained that, at 16, your son decides who he wants to live with and this was a relief for you. And, finally, he mentioned divorce. Of course, with all of this, you needed to apply for divorce. It was inevitable and you couldn’t wait until you were free from this monster.

“First, let’s talk about the AVO and getting you some financial support from him. This seems to be the most urgent matter and I have looked through the evidence and the discharge report from the hospital last week. You lied to the nurses and I am not going to ask you why. I am sure you had your reasons. But I am telling you that, the fact that you did, will make it more difficult for us to prove that you need protection from your husband” Cillian then explained quite suddenly before giving you a reassuring look.

“So, I cannot get an AVO against him?” you asked a little confused.

“We will get you an AVO Y/N but, if he challenges it, we will need to gather some more evidence” Cillian explained before handing you a box of tissues as he could see that you were becoming emotional already.

“The bruises and injuries seem quite severe. How are you coping with them now?” Cillian then asked and, whilst you knew that it wasn’t relevant to his case, you appreciated his gesture.

“It’s still painful and I am still bleeding from losing the baby” you explained reluctantly and you could see that Cillian struggled to digest what you were telling him.

“I am sorry Y/N, but I need to ask you some more questions about the harm he caused” Cillian said after taking a deep sigh.

“I know” you cried, holding on to Laura’s hand.

“Has he hurt you like this before or was this the first time?” Cillian asked carefully, knowing that this may trigger you to become even more upset and emotional.

“Yes” you cried before getting into more detail for him.

“He has hurt me many times. He beat me, raped me. He did terrible things to me. For years, he just treated me like I am worth nothing” you cried, your voice clearly emotional now.

“Y/N…” Cillian began to say with his professional façade dropping slowly.

“Don’t. I know… Just ask what you need to know” you told him quickly, interrupting him before he could say anything else.

“Okay” Cillian said before collecting his thoughts. He didn’t want to upset you anymore and decided to move on.

“Are there any records of prior injuries with other hospitals or medical centers?” he then asked and you nodded again.

“A year ago, I had severe burns and I saw my general practitioner to get some cream for them” you told Cillian for teary eyes.

“Burns? Did he inflict them?” Cillian asked a little surprised.

“Yes, he did! When James found out that…uhm…I…I had an abortion about a year ago he…” you cried, breaking down slowly.

“Take your time Y/N” Cillian told you while reaching across the table and holding onto your hand, unbothered by the fact that you held on to a wet tear-soaked tissue.

“He burned me” you sobbed.

“How did he burn you?” Cillian asked. He was shocked.

“He used the iron I used to do his shirts with and he just fucking burned me with it. It hurt so fucking much” you cried heavily, causing even Cillian to feel dizzy and it was at this point that Laura suggested for you to have a break.

Of course, both Cillian and Janette agreed but it was when they left the room and you overheard them talk about you that you became even more emotional than before.

“Why would anyone put up with this? I would never allow anyone to treat me like this” Janette told Cillian who, luckily for you, had your back and reminded her that cases like this are more common than she thought before re-entering the room without her.

“I don’t think I can do this. I am sorry for having wasted your time” you said to Cillian as soon as he walked back into the room.

“Y/N, please. I know it is hard but it is important for you tell me everything. Otherwise, I can’t build your case” Cillian told you but you hated it here, in this sterile conference room, being surrounded by a lawyer, a paralegal and a caseworker.

“Cillian, I feel like I am being judged. I am so embarrassed to lay out my life in front of all of you in a place I am not comfortable with” you explained to him and he silently nodded.

You could see that he was thinking about something and you decided to wait patiently to see if there was anything else he wanted to say.

“How about this…” Cillian eventually began, carrying on slowly.

“Tomorrow, I will get an order from the judge for urgent financial support and we will go to the police together and get an AVO against James. By the time James can challenge it, two or three weeks would have passed and, during those two or three weeks, I will come and see you at the shelter every day. You tell me as much as you are comfortable with. It’s just going to be you and me, at your pace. When I have enough information, I will file for divorce on your behalf and bring the charges against your husband for domestic abuse and anything else he has done to you. Sounds good?” Cillian asked while taking your hands into his carefully and in a comforting way.

“Just you and me? Without my brother, without any case workers or paralegals?” you asked after swallowing harshly.

“Yes, just you and me. Does that work for you?” Cillian asked and you reluctantly nodded. You were lacking options and, whilst you didn’t want to spill your misery to Cillian, he was probably the one who cared the most about your case. No other lawyer in this country would have had as much empathy and compassion towards you and you appreciated that.

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[samstree]

Just a Little Pretense

Jaskier and Geralt stage a fake breakup. Someone’s feelings get hurt for real.

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

AO3

“… It would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt’s voice echoes in the ballroom, between the tall walls and the high ceiling. Everyone on the dance floor has fallen into silence. Even the band has stopped playing, their lead singer gaping with round eyes.

Jaskier blinks, impressed.

All the eyes are on the two of them. Jaskier’s back prickles with the gazes. As the fight escalated, more and more guests have stopped dancing just to eavesdrop on the witcher and the bard, the most peculiar couple in the room.

Which is just perfect. The more people witnessing their breakup, the more awkward it will be afterward, and the easier it will be to get out of this tedious party. And here Jaskier is, regretting ever having doubted his dear witcher’s ability to perform.

Who would have thought Geralt is a method actor? Drawing inspiration from a past argument is ingenious.

His old acting professor back in Oxenfurt would approve of this. The show is going swimmingly and he is pumped with adrenaline—maybe he should go back on stage one day, do a play or two.

But alas, he can muse the idea later. The show must go on.

“Really? Just like that?” Jaskier croaks, seemingly on the verge of crying. He’s not so bad himself, classically trained and everything. “Thirty years, Geralt. I followed you for thirty years, and just like that, you will kick me out of your life? Did I ever—” he breaks off with a whimper. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or were you ready to cast me aside this whole time?”

A tear rolls down. His lips wobble. The crowd erupts in hushed murmurs and sympathetic sighs. The set-up, the build, everything has been perfect. Now the only thing left is for Geralt to break things off, and the two of them can ride into the metaphorical sunset and never see this court again.

Jaskier waits in anticipation, but his witcher opens his mouth.

And closes it.

Geralt looks as upset as he should, angry and torn and equally shocked, his golden eyes wide and his jaw clenched tight. It’s a nice picture to paint for the audience. They are supposedly having the biggest fight in their lives and his body language is very convincing.

More than convincing.

Except, it just might be … too convincing.

Wait—

Jaskier focuses on Geralt, who looks as if he wants to shrink into himself, his shoulders slumped and arms drawn in. He looks as if he’s waiting to be struck. Wait, something’s not right.

“I can’t do this.” A whisper leaves Geralt’s lips, small and achingly sad.

It’s not the line he’s supposed to say.

Geralt’s eyebrows droop ever so slightly, and there’s a flash of distress behind the molten gold. It’s gone in a second, hidden behind a façade of indifference.

The tells are subtle, near imperceivable to the untrained eye, but to Jaskier, they are clear as day—Geralt is hurt. For real.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tries, instantly snapped out of his character.

And yet, there’s no reply. Geralt lowers his head, turns around, and flees the scene within one heartbeat and the next. The crowd is too eager to make way for him.

“Shit,” Jaskier curses, ready to chase after Geralt, but the Countess de Stael appears out of nowhere with a flock of maids and positively blocks him in all directions. She’s eager to lament the loss of love and companionship, and to offer Jaskier a place at her court once again. Oh, shit.

Jaskier brushes her off, all the while painfully remembering he and Geralt’s goal from the beginning—to use the breakup as an excuse to get out of this place.

Well, the plan is shit. Is it too late to notice?

Weaving through dozens of nobles is a lot more difficult when they all want to extend sympathy, and Jaskier is only placating them absent-mindedly, faking regret and heartbreak. His mind is full of his witcher, who is either brooding or spiraling over the venom he spewed earlier.

The truth is, Jaskier has long forgotten about the mountain—not because it didn’t hurt. To be shunned by Geralt, blamed for everything, and denied friendship, was the worst thing to have happened to him at the time. It’s just that Jaskier has forgiven it, so long ago and so completely.

Jaskier cannot get to their room fast enough, and when he pushes open the door, the sight of Geralt’s dejected face is a stab through the chest. The witcher is perched on the bed, somehow looking a lot smaller than he is.

Jaskier never should have come up with the stupid fake breakup thing, never should have inadvertently reopened the old wound. They healed, together. They shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

“I explained. We can leave now,” Jaskier tires, but in fairness, he doesn’t remember what he said to the Countess. “Geralt?”

The witcher himself crosses his arms, hugging his midriff and avoiding Jaskier’s gaze. “Good,” he answers curtly, shoulders still tense.

He looks angry, and when Geralt is angry, it’s most likely with himself. Oh, whatever heartbreak Jaskier acted out earlier, it’s not a match to a fraction of what he’s feeling now. It must be the one millionth time Geralt’s self-loathing has broken Jaskier’s heart, and it never gets easier, not when Jaskier caused it himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier desperately wants to wrap his arms around Geralt. So he does. He sits down on the bed and pulls his witcher into the biggest bear hug, which is returned immediately and so very tightly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up, Geralt. I’m—”

“Don’t be.” Geralt buries his nose into Jaskier’s neck and shakes his head. “I never should have said those things, Jask. I should be the one apologizing. It was wrong and untrue and I would never abandon you. You are my best friend. How can I ever? Please, believe me…”

Geralt trails off, his hands rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back. Although it’s unclear who he’s trying to soothe.

“I know. It’s okay. I know,” Jaskier murmurs, over and over again, sealing each reassurance with a kiss pressed into silver hair.

“I never meant it, Jask.”

“I know. It was fake. We were pretending.”

Geralt pulls away, golden eyes dead serious, pausing between every word. “I never meant it.”

Jaskier meets his gaze unwaveringly, with not an ounce of doubt. “I know.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other. Geralt keeps sniffing Jaskier’s scent the same way he always does to check for injury or distress. He thinks he’s subtle, the sweet man, so Jaskier never mentions it.

Despite what an outsider might assume, Geralt is the sensitive one between the two. He’s so careful when it comes to their relationship, especially after the mountain and sometimes to his own detriment.

He’s so scared of hurting Jaskier again.

“I was an idiot for suggesting it,” Jaskier breaks the silence, nudging Geralt in the knee.

Geralt hums, lips pursed.

“Fake breakup is a terrible idea. Next time we’ll just grit our teeth and sit through the month-long party.”

Still, no smile.

“Alright, you win. Next time I won’t take you to a month-long party to start with.” Jaskier gently pats Geralt on the cheek. “For your delicate sensibilities, darling.”

Finally, finally, Geralt’s lips turn upwards, just a smidge.

“You are an idiot,” Geralt says, the crease between his brows fading. “Just…don’t make me make you cry again.”

Melting into the warmth welling up between his ribcage, Jaskier leans forward and presses a tiny kiss at his witcher’s forehead, so softly as if he’d break with any more force.

“Yes, dear.”

Being careless with Geralt’s heart is a mistake that Jaskier never wants to repeat. As he put a hand over his witcher’s languid heartbeat, Jaskier feels the soft thrumming against his palm, and realizes just how terribly he needs to guard it with the same care too. Against his frivolous self, and against the past that never seems to stop haunting them.

Because Jaskier needs this thing between them to work. If a faked breakup already seems unbearable, he shudders to imagine a real one.

A witcher’s life is already riddled with pain and sadness and could-have-beens. A poet would hate it if he added himself to the list.

---

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[yanderedbdimagines]

Fem survivor hiding in a locker, and Nightmare, Oni and the Shape can’t get in. I once had a bug a long while ago where the killers couldn’t search a locker. Got patched very quickly of course. I’d like to ask short scenarios about it where the Entity protects her for some reason after the killers saw the opportunity to try and kidnap their beloved for themselves. :P Perhaps to spite/punish the killers? Go wild, and thank you!

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

Sure thing! And no thanks required at all! 😊 I personally would have laughed my butt off if that ever happened to me, whether killer or survivor.  They only game breaking bug I ever had was being stuck on something in Haddonfield(can’t remember what). The killer couldn’t get to me either, and I had to disconnect after I had tried everything I could think of at the time, not wanting to ruin the game for the others. Good times…

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

The Nightmare

You curse from underneath your gasping breath as a low chuckle reaches your ears, your heart hammering violently against your ribcage as you try to flatten yourself against the backwall of the locker.

He’s seen you get in here, and now you’re about to pay the price if you don’t time the trick Jane has taught you well enough. After all, the others have already been sacrificed, so no one could save you or distract him from the difficult situation you currently find yourself in.

You take a deep, shivery breath and ready yourself just as the killer’s footsteps reach close before trying to slam the doors open as quickly and as powerfully as you can, only for them not to budge in the slightest…

Freddy has heard the distinct thuds of your hands smashing against the wood just as he pulls against the handle, only to have a similar outcome roll out for him too, the sniggering quickly fading into a displeased grunt.

It’s silent for a second…

As you eventually were busy trying to think of another plan when the doors do open, as busy as the Nightmare was trying to pick the lock with a clawed finger. Metal scraping, screeching and ticking against metal brings you on your nerves as you stare at the lock, but you nearly jump out of your skin as the killer suddenly speaks to you with a tone of voice which nearly leaves you shaking in your boots.

“Please doll. It’s rude to stay in there and keep little ol’ Freddy out here waiting.~ Do come out and I’ll promise I’ll be on my best behavior.~”

You hear how he stops rummaging with the lock, listening to the knives running over the chipped paint instead before they tick against the metallic bars making up the outer skeleton of the red locker.

Of course, you’re not convinced.

But you’re not going to tell him that and decide to remain absolutely silent instead, hoping that he’d leave or disappear by some miraculous wonder.

If only it were that easy…

“Come now sweet cheeks.~ Don’t play coy with me. I know you’re still in there and if you don’t open up now I might do something the both of us will regret later. You don’t want that to happen, now do you?”  

You think about it for a second before drawing a conclusion. You’re about to voice that out loud before the ground suddenly gives out from underneath you.

You yelp loudly as you find yourself falling into darkness, an angry yell from the Nightmare being heard from above soon after.

And before you could fully comprehend on what was going on, you found yourself face to face with concerned survivors who found you splayed out besides the main camp’s ever familiar stack of burning wood…

 The Oni

A cold sweat overtakes your senses as you make yourself as small as you possibly could in the corner of the cramped locker and with wide eyes glued on the wooden doors, unblinking.

You don’t know where the other remaining survivor is. They might have escaped, but they also could have been killed or sacrificed at this point. Either way, you’re in heaps of trouble as you feel the vibrations of heavy footsteps marching briskly into your direction.

The locker budges as the Oni tries to tear the door open with his open hand, only to find it to be locked. It surprises the both of you…

Your heart is beating within your throat at this point as you remain to watch the doors like a hawk, not believing what’s happening right now before your thoughts flash over to the Entity, wondering what its intentions with you are.

Anyhow, you try to think of a plan to escape the Oni in case he does somehow manage to tear open the doors, your fingers brushing over the firecrackers that are bundled up in your pants left pocket. The ones you’ve found and picked up somewhere within the trial.

The said killer, on the other hand, is breathing even heavier than before as you hear his katana evaporate within the air as wisps of black smoke and embers before a large shadow peers through the rosters.

You choke on your breath as the Oni tries to pull open the doors through the help of his monstrous strength in addition to his full weight, the locker screeching and groaning in protest. Your attention is partly diverted as a familiar black mist suddenly coats the bottom of the locker before wrapping you into its cold embrace.  

He keeps hanging on whilst shaking violently against the handles, a dark growl shivering the very air.

All you could do was to protect your ears from the loudness of his actions, fear gripping your heart at every clamorous sound and movement.

Yet, you can’t help but to pitch a gasp and a sob as a loud roar now pierces the surrounding area before something huge and bulky is being slammed against the locker’s entirety, feeling the indirect impact of it ripple throughout your frozen body. It is his Kanabo that he’s using out of frustration...

He’s pelting the locker with a barrage of strikes now, the screaming getting louder and louder with each powerful hit.

You close your eyes and shiver violently, scared that the Oni’s about to smash the locker wide open with you still in it.

However, a deafening silence soon overtook you, a heat now washing over your body and an orange light flickering from behind your closed eyelids.

You slowly open them, only to nearly jump up in joy as you come to stare at the flames which could only belong to one particular campfire…

 The Shape

Your body is tormented by sweat and your lungs are burning like crazy as you rush straight into the dungeon’s nearest locker as a suicidal attempt to rid yourself from the man in the mask who’s hot on your trail.

The killer deliberately cornered you into the basement by cutting you off at a spot where you’d least expected him to be. And from there, you pretty much ran on raw panic and unadulterated fear as common sense was long since thrown out of the window as derived by your current course of action.

You’re breathing heavily as an all too familiar mask flashes through the splits of the roster, and close your eyes with a silent prayer falling from your lips and with your hands bawling the hem of your shirt into a tight bundle.

But… Nothing happens as you gradually open your eyes back up to the darkness of the world.

Your gaze is now set on the mask that has tilted to the side, seemingly in confusion. You quickly connected the dots afterwards, understanding that the locker’s suddenly been locked by the Entity for some reason just after you have ran into it.

You then hear his knife thwacking against the paint chipped wood before being recoiled by the effects of the impact.

Did he just try to stab the locker?

You feel your blood run cold as your hands start to tremble, realization kicking in…  

In panic, you quickly hunch down, not wanting to be pierced by the sharp blade if it does manage to thrust its way through one of the doors like some sort of a magician’s sword and possibly ending your life that way as nasty consequence.

Another thwack follows, and then another.

Like a mindless animal stuck in a looped pattern, the Shape keeps on stabbing his favored kitchen knife against the locker over and over again, not even a single huff or growl of frustration being heard. He’s surprisingly silent, in fact, as he’s trying to cut his way into your awkward confinement…

Only short moments of complete silence are woven in between. Perhaps within those moments, he’s checking if the locker’s been unlocked due to his strange efforts.

You move your body into a sitting position, your hands now holding a flashlight as you closely keep your attention on both doors.

Your eyes quickly got diverted, however, as something cold creeps up your legs.

Michael freezes and his head dips the moment he feels something swirl past his ankles, now witnessing how black heavy smoke escapes through the cracks at the bottom of the locker.

He tilts his head yet again before his free hand reaches for the handle, managing to open the door normally this time, only to learn that you’ve disappeared into thin air…

His fingers twitch against the wooden hilt of his weapon…

[faolanmoon]

oops so sorry yes general hcs for yandere sunny on how he acts in a relationship with his s/o?

Alright , here you go!

~Yandere Sunny x S/o~

Sunny is definitely affectionate and somewhat clingy. He’d definitely be touch starved from being a shut in, also really lonely. He’d straight up cling to you to the point it’s difficult to move sometimes.

Also clingy in the sense that he wouldn’t be ok with you being affectionate with someone else. He wants your affection, all of it, he breathes for it. If he saw you give someone that’s not HIM affection, he’s definitely going to give them a death stare. He’ll rush up to you and suddenly wrap his arms around you in a tight hug, burying his face into your shoulders when you’re looking, but glaring at whoever he’s jealous of when you aren’t looking. Sunny would also definitely nuzzle you like he’s some cat.If you don’t catch up on his hints he’ll slowly become more aggressive towards the person he’s jealous about. Eventually when you finally walk away from whoever Sunny is unfortunate enough to be jealous of he’ll definitely end up hunting them down to kill them.

Sunny is 100% a possessive yandree as well. He believes you are his no matter what, and your affection is on the list for damn sure. “You’re mine “, might not be said a lot but his actions will definitely imply it . The way he’ll hold you is tight, like he’s afraid of losing you , and the way he’s always trying to make sure no one else is falling for you will say it for him.

He will definitely freak out internally if you are sick or hurt. Sickness probably won’t have him freaking out terribly unless you end up in the hospital. Sunny wouldn’t freak out as much as he would about you get hurt as he would about you getting sick, after all a common cold or virus could simply be treated, now if it’s something that leaves you in pain he’d be upset and scared of losing you. Now if you get hurt, it’ll depend on what type of injury. Paper cut? Not really worried, it’ll be gone soon, just be careful. Cuts, burns, or bruises? Yeah, he’ll be more scared especially the cuts and burns, as those can hospitalize you if bad enough. If you receive an injury like a broken bone or are badly burnt, he’ll freak the hell out. He’s becoming a lot more protective of you as he’s now more scared of losing you.

Sunny would lose his shit if someone dared to lay harm on you. He’s pretty protective, and would definitely become aggressive and is definitely going to spill blood if someone had the audacity to harm you. Now if it’s an accident he’s probably going to have to be held by you until he realizes that, it was just an accident, they didn’t mean to hurt you, however he’d still be pissed. If it was on purpose, honey you’ve got a big storm coming. *Snaps fingers*. Sunny will definitely charge at them with a knife and begin to violently stab the shit out of them. Even in front of you, he’s not gonna stop stabbing them until he’s convinced they’re dead, regardless of you freaking out about him killing someone. When he’s done he’ll slowly approach you, likely covered in a lot of blood and if you get scared of him, or try to run he only quickens his pace to get closer to you. When he’s finally at you he just tightly hugs you, likely staining your clothes with the blood of his latest victim before whispering,” I’m gonna need you to help me get rid of the body, I might have snapped at them hurting you”.

Do not, under any circumstances under estimate how much he loves you. He won’t stop showering you in love and affection whenever you feel doubt. Feeling down? He’ll definitely start loving on you and won’t stop praising what he loves about you. You also should never under estimate how protective he is of you, oh you’ll see how protective he can get.

Sunny would definitely not like it if you have a terrible relationship with your family. Now family members are the only ones who’d be getting a pass on him killing if they’re getting more affection then him, he actually understands if you’ve got a very loving and close relationship with your family. Now if it’s the opposite, hell no, those mfs ain’t treating you right! He’d definitely fight with any family member considered abusive, and he’ll do whatever he can to protect you from them, even if he’s got to get his hands dirty, he’s willing to make you happy and make sure you’re safe.

Now if you got an ex, Sunny ain’t gonna like them chief, not a single bit. If they attempt to get back together with you, their ass is grass and they’re gonna die, no hesitation.

If you decide to break up with him for whatever reason, like say you saw him kill someone and now you’re scared of him, he’s definitely going to unhinge and get desperate. He’s going to definitely try to figure out what he did wrong, hell Sunny will cling onto you, grabbing your hands as he starts crying, demanding to know what he did to make him lose your love, demanding another chance and swear he’ll change. If you refuse to well, you’re definitely going to be abducted at that point. Please, just give him your love, it’s all he ever lives for!

He’d definitely think of marriage if you two get close enough. Divorcing Sunny would pretty much go the same way as you breaking up with him.

[umbran6]

Hogwarts Houses for the Heroes of Olympus, Apollo, and Meg.

I’ve seen a lot of people do this, so I thought I should do this and explain as to why I wanted them there. Spoilers are abound through Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo as I explain my reasoning. 

Percy Jackson: Hufflepuff. Look, I know a lot of people place him in Gryffindor. That’s a reasonable outcome one can reach, considering his feats could be considered immensely brave. However, Percy has often participated in his quests out of a sense of loyalty towards those he loves, whether it’s his mom (The Lightning Thief), Camp Half-Blood (The Sea of Monsters), Annabeth (Both The Titan’s Curse and Battle of The Labyrinth), and in The Last Olympian, all of them. What really pins him in place is when he willingly fallis to Tartarus alongside Annabeth by the ending of The Mark of Athena, which is a remarkable yet insane feat of both love and loyalty. He also has a work ethic, which is revealed during The Tower of Nero. Rather than just go straight to New Rome and live a happy life, he went to a hellish military school just so he could graduate from there with a high school diploma. If that’s not a work ethic, I don’t know what is. Loyalty and work ethic are key Hufflepuff traits, and Percy has shown all of them. 

Annabeth Chase: Slytherin. Annabeth has often shown a lot of intelligence, but also a lot of resourcefulness and cunning during her time in the series. She literally tricked both Arachne and Nyx in what were impossible situations, and her goals are extremely ambitious, with her wanting to become an architect so she could build something that could last a thousand years. She also has a lot of Ravenclaw traits, to the point she repeated Odysseus and listened to the Sirens so she could learn what she desired the most. However, that was only once, and most often she used the knowledge she was given in resourceful and cunning ways, such as during the Last Olympian where she used the statues from Daedalus as a way to defend Manhattan. Needless to say, in my opinion she is a Slytherin first and Ravenclaw second. 

Jason Grace: It’s quite tricky, considering we don’t get to see any key defining traits, but I have decided to put him in Gryffindor. Jason’s shown plenty of bravery, fighting Giants and Titans during his quest, but he also has honor and chivalry, which he shows during Blood of Olympus, and later on, The Burning Maze. Specifically, in the scene where he makes a deal with Kymopoleia, promising to make shrines not only to her, but to all of the hundreds of minor gods of Greek Mythology. As we later see during The Burning Maze, Jason was completely willing to honor such a deal, working on the shrines even while he was living the closest thing to a normal life one could achieve as a demigod. And of course, we can’t ignore the fact that he was brave to fight Caligula just so his friends could escape. 

Piper Mclean: Slytherin. This is because during most of the time we’ve seen her, Piper fights dirty. She doesn’t stab a monster in the dagger, but charmspeaks the monster and stabs him in the back while he’s distracted. When claiming the position as Cabin Counselor in the Aphrodite Cabin during The Lost Hero from Drew, Piper uses the rules against her to get the position, rather than straight-up fighting her at the very beginning. Furthermore, rather than fight Khione upfront during the House of Hades, she bides her time and stalls the goddess until she can find a way to win. Though she has some traits that could go along with the other Houses, Slytherin tends to stand out the best. The only way she isn’t Slytherin in terms of traits is that she lacks ambition — we never see her have a higher goal beyond the quest, or any plans for what she’s going to do after everything’s done. Overall, she’s Slytherin through her actions, not her words, ironically. 

Frank Zhang: Gryffindor. This is because Frank performs a lot of actions that are by any standard, brave, and often selfless and self-sacrificial. Specifically, a lot of the sacrifices he performs throughout the series. In Son of Neptune, he was willing to be the distraction against the Laestrygonians so that Percy and Hazel could start their escape plan. He was literally willing to burn his own life force (his stick) so that Thanatos could break free despite the very large risk it posed to him. He even stood in the way of a Giant, pushing him all the way to the Canadian border. And as we learn in The Tyrant’s Tomb, he was willing to repeat his sacrifice if it meant Caligula and Commodus were killed.  Frank is a Gryffindor through and through, though he does have some minor Ravenclaw traits such as his use of tactics against his opponents, way of making plans, or recalling ancient Roman history. 

Hazel Levesque: Once again, this was another difficult one. Mainly because Hazel is split right down to the middle between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. On one hand, she was so loyal to her mother that despite the fact that the lady got them into this mess, Hazel willingly sacrificed Elysium so her mom wasn’t punished. On the other hand, she was also willing to sacrifice herself so Alcyoneus couldn’t rise again despite the fact that it would lead to her and her mom’s death. Finally, I decided she deserved to go to Gryffindor, because of the fact that she willingly went towards the quest to rescue Thanatos in The Son of Neptune despite the fact that it was very likely that the god of Death would take her back to the Underworld. That takes immense amounts of bravery, not only because it’s the right thing to do, but she’s also putting herself at immense risk of being dragged down to the Underworld. 

There are some Slytherin traits, such as when she made a plan to trick Sciron during the House of Hades, or the plan to trap Nike. However, Hazel’s a lot more defined by her bravery and empathy, which are more Gryffindor traits. If she had more ambition, a big goal after the quest it could be understood, but overall her Gryffindor traits are more prominent. For example, let’s compare how she got to Praetor and Octavian got to Praetor, and later on, Pontifex Maximus. Octavian often used a lot of word-twisting and dirty tactics to get his position, and only got there because Reyna left her post so she could help Jason. In comparison, the legion willingly raised her on a shield and collectively voted her into the position due to her bravery during the fight against Tarquin in The Tyrant’s Tomb. 

Leo Valdez: There have been arguments over where he should go. All of them want him in one house or the other, but the most convincing ones were either having him in Slytherin, or in Ravenclaw. And I can definitely agree with both — Leo has shown immense amounts of intelligence and cunning throughout the series.  He’s also intelligent in the sense that he created the Argo II, multiple weapons, the Holographic Scrolls, and even Buford. 

However, after looking through his actions, I found that he leans more towards Slytherin. Although his façade of cheerfulness and humor was used to disguise trauma, he also used said humor to make himself appealing towards bullies so they didn’t beat him up. He often used his cunning to morph himself to social situations such as his façade as a jokester to look less threatening in comparison to others. 

During the times we see him fight, he’s also the one to not only play it smart, but also using tactics and dirty tricks, rather than focusing on swordplay or his own fire powers. The only time we see him go ham with his pyrokinesis is when he’s fighting Khione during The Lost Hero. Furthermore, in The Mark of Athena, rather than straight-up fight the nymphs and Narcissus to get the celestial bronze he needed to make repairs, he uses himself as a distraction and has Hazel manipulate the bronze in a place where she can’t be seen, which is a plan that needs a lot of manipulation of the opposing parties.

What finally acted as the nail in the coffin for me was his plan to defeat Gaea during Blood of Olympus. It involved a lot of manipulation of both enemies and allies, and in the ended it succeeded so brilliantly that everybody got what they wanted, with none of them being aware of the plan until Frank and Hazel explained it, and they were the very few people in the know regarding Leo’s sacrifice. Developing such a plan takes immense amounts of cunning and ambition, which are both Slytherin traits. Although he may be chaotic, mischievous, and annoying, Leo is the guy you don’t realize is a Slytherin until it’s too late.

Nico di Angelo: The thing about a guy who was pretty much a loner throughout most of his time in the series is that it’s hard to tell what values he has. Ergo, we should look at his actions rather than his own words. Nico, although mainly dominated by his naïveté during his younger years, has shown himself to be extremely brave. For example, there was him openly defying his father by saving Percy from his imprisonment, and later actively convincing Hades to stop his vow of neutrality and fight alongside the Olympians in The Last Olympian. Finally, there’s his excursion to Tartarus and later his willingness to transport the Athena Parthenos during Blood of Olympus. Nico willingly went there to see if the Doors of Death were over there, and later transported the Athena Parthenos to Camp Half-Blood even if it meant he would fade into the shadows forever. All feats are insanely brave, and therefore I argue that he should go to Gryffindor. 

Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano: Hufflepuff. Most of Reyna’s actions aren’t inspired by bravery, honor, or chivalry, though from a certain point of view they are brave. Reyna often performs most of her actions out of loyalty for those she cares about, almost in a Percy-ish kind of way. Her interrogation and cold nature towards Percy in Son of Neptune? Suspicion that he would be a threat to Camp Jupiter. She metaphorically fought against Octavian’s power advances because she knew his own ambitions wouldn’t help New Rome. Willingness to cooperate with the Greeks before the Eidolons screwed up everything? She believed that it was best for New Rome. Willingness to brave the Mare Nostrum all by herself? Both her loyalty to Jason and that she believed that waging war against Camp Half-Blood was not the best for the legion. Her loyalty and ethic just make her a shoe-in for Hufflepuff. 

Apollo/Lester Papadopoulos: Oh boy, he’s kind of at an in-between when it comes what house he should be in. If we were talking about him pre-Lesterfication, I would honestly say Hufflepuff, but he takes a good chunk of those traits and turned them into a darker way. He defeated Python because the snake monster had chased his mother off of Delphi. He alongside Artemis murdered Niobe’s kids because the goddess insulted Leto by saying she was better than her. When Asclepius is murdered by Zeus, he retaliates by murdering the Cyclopes who made the weapons. And finally, he punishes those who broke their vows He shows loyalty, but in a lot of darker ways that we don’t expect. He’s got Hufflepuff morals, but they’re in a darker, more warped way than we expect. 

If we’re looking at him post-Lesterfication, I would still say Hufflepuff, but now he does it in a brighter way and is also more Gryffindor. He was more willing to sacrifice himself if it meant saving those he cared about, such as when he willingly tried to kill himself during The Burning Maze if it meant Caligula would stop holding his friends hostage. He was also willing to commit more honorable gestures such as bringing Jason’s body to New Rome during The Tyrant’s Tomb. He was even willing to own up to his mistakes right in front of a god who had every right to hate him if it meant Meg and Reyna could be spared. He’s still a Hufflepuff, but he’s a more idealistic and less warped version of the values he had before he became Lester. 

Meg: In a way, she’s pretty much like Apollo. She’s a Hufflepuff, but in all the wrong ways at first. We see this in The Dark Prophecy when its clear that during that time, she was more loyal to Nero of all people rather than her fellow campers, to the point of accepting Nero’s gaslighting if it meant she could see the positive view of him. However, she’s also loyal to Apollo and her father, which we see in The Burning Maze because the main reason she guns for Caligula is because she often compares him to The Beast aspect of Nero, the person who killed her dad. She in the end is also willing to accept and finish her father’s legacy, planting the seeds that eventually become the Meliai. Tower of Nero is when she gains the will to stand up to Nero after support from Apollo and her friends, and is later on seen taking care of the other children Nero abused. In the end, she’s a Hufflepuff despite the fact that she may not look like it. 

Now, before you guys getting up in arms about there being no Ravenclaws, in my opinion the house is a lot more knowledge-focused, whether its discovering more knowledge, but also using it in a more academic and experimental way. Considering we don’t see this attitude or its corresponding values too much during the stories that we see since they’re more save-the-world mission focused. While Slytherin does have an intelligence-centric value such as cunning, its more focused on using such intelligence to manipulate and trick others, while Ravenclaw uses such intelligence in the discovery for knowledge. 

[rheawritessometimes]

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

-

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Etho hurt/comfort fic pretty please? 👉👈👀💚

some etho hurt/comfort coming right up!

featuring: etho has made smarter decisions than this, set in s7 during the end of season stat poker, sometimes your friends just have to tell you you're an idiot

warnings: injury caused by falling, broken rib, pushing self too far/ignoring injuries, some light drinking

It's a stupid misstep.

Etho's foot lands on empty air and the next thing he knows, he's falling. His hands struggle for his water bucket, the one he knows should be just there, but isn't. There's not enough time to twist, or to soften his landing. He barely gets his arms up to protect his head before he's slamming into the ground. The air is forced out of him with a crack that reverberates through his very bones. His next breath comes out as a low hiss, a few ticks passing as his brain tries to catch up with what just happened.

That's when the pain kicks in.

If Etho weren't already lying facedown in the dirt, he would be now.

Air feels forced into his body, stabbing through his chest and back. It's all he can do to groan, and that hurts too. His face pressed into his arms, fingers unconsciously pulling at his hair. His grip tightens with another gasp for air, struggling to take a full breath. He must've dealt with worse than this in the past, he's an experienced player! Being on Hermitcraft with all of its luxuries is making him soft.

Speaking of Hermitcraft.

He wants to groan when he realises he's supposed to meet the others for Stat Poker soon. Thankfully, he convinces himself not to, because as he's learnt: groaning hurts. Not that there's much that doesn't hurt right now. He should back out of the meet up. He doesn't even want to try standing right now, for crying out loud. But it was Tango, and Etho knows the guy needs the break. He can't just bail on him now. With a deep breath, Etho manages to haul onto his side. Every breath comes out as a quick and shallow puff, sending shooting pains through him. Trying to breathe in any deeper than a gasp gives him the urge to curl into a small ball and become one with the dirt.

But, he can't let Tango down. It'll be a good time hanging out together. He just needs to grab a health potion, and maybe tomorrow he can take it easy. Easy enough, anyway.

With a hissed breath, he finally gets his hands flat on the ground and pushes up. His nails dig into the dirt and he already knows it'll be a nightmare to clean out later. When he forces his eyes open, he finds he's managed to sit upright. Great. That's progress. He tries to sigh, but the breath cuts off into a hiss of pain he bites his tongue to bury. Alright, no groaning or sighing then. He can work with that.

Finding a stair block in his inventory, he throws it down to use as a support. His chest feels like it's trying to suffocate him, but he's able to push to his feet. He leans on the block to catch his breath. Health potion, then stat poker.

Pain flares through his chest as he stands upright, his eyes squeezing shut. He thinks he'll walk to the shopping district.

-

"Etho, sweet face!" Keralis's call greets him as Etho pushes the gate open. Etho smiles, trying to catch his breath from the walk over. It's hard when anything deeper than a shallow breath feels a bit like knives prickling into his lungs. The potion hasn't helped as much as he wanted it to, but he can make it through this. It's just hanging out with friends, what could go wrong?

"Hey, K." He nods his head in greeting. Tango and Bdubs turn at the sound of his voice. Tango is the first to bounce away from the bar, holding a glass out for him.

"Glad you could make it, dude! Take a seat, get comfortable. We're just getting snacks." Etho looks into the glass, swirling the deep red liquid. "It's just berry juice," Tango is quick to tell him. "Made specially for you. The rest of us, however-" He clinks his glass against Keralis's on the way back to the bar, throwing a wink Etho's way. Etho rolls his eyes, not wanting to risk the affectionate laugh in his throat. It looks like Bdubs and Keralis have already claimed the seats closest to the button. He lowers himself into a chair across the table carefully, not wanting to make a sudden drop. Once he's down safely, with only a minimal jolt of pain, he relaxes. He sinks back against the chair, tugging his mask down to take a sip of juice. It's fresh, fruity on his tongue. He smiles, forcing the pain out of his mind.

Bdubs strides over, a bowl held in his palm as he bows.

"Your snacks, wonderful patrons." Keralis near dives onto his seat so he can pick some of the honey-glazed nuts from the top. It's a close thing, but somehow Bdubs keeps the bowl steady.

"Keralis! Those are for all of us!" Tango calls, sitting beside Etho with a refilled glass and another bowl.

"I've only taken some!" Keralis protests. "Besides, I've gotta have lots now before Bubbles eats them all!"

"Will not!" Bdubs cries, hands on his hips. Etho snorts, regretting it immediately. At least his mask hides most of his grimace. They're too busy squabbling over the bowl to notice.

"Now, now, children. Let's save the fights for the actual game." Tango smirks as he unpockets his diamonds, holding them in the air. Etho can't help but smile at the dramatics, the way the evening sun glints through the blue. "Are we all ready?"

"Oh no, we're just sitting around this table for no reason," Bdubs says, before throwing his hands up. "Yes, of course we're ready!"

"Might wanna keep that anger in check 'til after you've lost all your diamonds, Bdubs." The words are difficult to get out, but Etho works his way through them. Keeping his voice around its usual talking volume doesn't hurt too bad.

"Oh, I hope you get none of them." Bdubs leans across the table, dark eyes meeting Etho's. Etho smirks.

"So you admit you'll lose them, then?" He teases. Bdubs huffs, sitting back with crossed arms.

"This is unfair. You're ganging up on me already."

Keralis laughs, "Well, you can press the button first. Does that make it fair?"

"Oh, more than fair! I like pressing buttons."

"You sure do," Tango mutters, disguising it with a sip of wine. Etho puffs out a breath, more punched than he intended. Ugh, why do they have to be so damn funny? This is making his job ten times harder. "Etho?" Tango calls, "You okay? Don't often see you making that face."

Etho tries an encouraging smile, crinkling his eyes above the mask, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a bit of a slip earlier." It's technically not a lie.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" Bdubs asks.

"Yeah, sure. A hang out with friends has never hurt anyone, right?"

"On this server..." Keralis points out, looking between Bdubs and Tango.

"Hey, we're plenty safe!" Tango argues.

"No, no, I think Keralis has a point with this one," Etho shoots back. Bdubs huffs, slapping the first card face down on the table.

"Gentlemen!" He calls their attention. "Let's begin."

-

So far, Etho's lost a lot of diamonds. Adding in the light system was a stroke of genius that is ruining him. He leans on the table, watching Bdubs finish his second glass. Meanwhile, Etho's barely finished his first glass of juice. Tango holds the next card between his fingers before flipping it dramatically.

"Distance climbed," Etho reads, Tango repeating it soon after. As the discussion breaks out about what exactly that entails, Etho tries to consider his options. He knows his statistics aren't the highest on the server. He splits his time between worlds and that's to his detriment here. Though if he could use his stats from his single-player world... Oh, that would be great.

"Etho, you in?" Bdubs asks, focusing his attention back on the match. Etho looks at the pot. Ten diamonds. That's not too bad.

"I know I'm going to lose this one, but I am nicknamed 'Ladders', so I feel like I have to do it just to see..." His voice trails off as the breathlessness sets in, lungs aching with the strain of his small breaths. He might have to call it soon if this gets much worse, but he can keep going.

"Etho," Bdubs says, leaning across the table. "Out of all these years who has ever called you 'ladders'?"

Tango laughs, and Etho's about to reply when Tango hits his back. Etho doesn't hear Tango's words, too occupied by the feeling of every nerve in his chest setting aflame. He falls forward, with chesty coughs that only hurt more but he can't seem to stop. This is going to kill him. Every gasp feels like a desperate attempt to get oxygen, shivering in agony.

When he manages to blink his eyes open, he can make out blurry shapes moving around him. Something cool slides down his face, hitting his mask until it's pulled down. He makes a weak noise of protest. He doesn't think it's any different from his noises of pain. A hand cards through his hair, something pressed to his lips. He can taste the zing of a health potion and drinks as eagerly as he can.

With the help of the potion, he forces himself to take small breaths. It still hurts. It still hurts a lot. But at least now he can focus on the mortifying situation he's put himself in instead.

"Etho?" Bdubs' voice rings clear now. Etho holds up a shaky hand.

"Gimme- give a minute." He leans on the edge of the table, focusing on taking small breaths. He's not sure how long he's in that position for, until the pain subsides enough for him to dare move again.

"Etho? How are you feeling, sweetface?" Etho looks up to give Keralis a smile, realising his eyes are still filled with tears. He goes to dry his eyes, and Bdubs is quick to press a tissue into his hand.

"Thanks," he mutters. He can see Keralis properly now. Nice. "I'm- yeah. I'm okay now. Didn't think that would happen."

"Yeah," Etho doesn't need to turn to see Tango's disapproving look. "What was that, dude? You nearly keeled over in front of us!" Ugh, he nearly did, didn't he?

"Fell earlier," he murmurs, sticking to half-truths. "Must've landed harder than I thought."

"What hurts?" Bdubs asks. He's standing on his toes, ready to jump back into action. It gives Etho a little smile.

"My chest, mostly. Breathing's pretty hard."

Bdubs hums thoughtfully, "Think you can get back to your own base?" Etho blinks, looking at the half-finished game around them.

"But- the- We're not finished!"

"You're hurt, sweetface! We're not going to continue without you."

"Yeah, it's no fun playing if somebody is gonna cough their guts out." Tango moves his hand towards him before hesitating and thinking better of it. Etho is both thankful and longing for the touch.

"I made it over here," Etho concedes, "I should be fine to get back."

"Good!" Bdubs claps his hands. "Because I don't want to call Doc or Xisuma." Etho cringes at the thought.

"Oh, don't do that to me. I'd never live it down."

"X wouldn't let you leave your base," Tango replies, snickering.

"That's my nickname!"

"Have you seen Doc when he goes all mother hen?" Etho protests, quickly remembering to lower his voice. "And then he just bullies you afterwards!" Bdubs snorts

"I'm not calling him! You're fine, princess."

Bdubs pats Keralis's back, "We can both call Etho a princess, it's okay."

-

The trio insist on walking him home. He doesn't engage much in the conversation, too occupied with breathing and walking at the same time. At one point he ends up leaning on Keralis, because Bdubs is too short, and Tango too skinny. He smirks during the subsequent argument that plays out, closing his eyes and letting Keralis guide his movements. Before he knows it, they're approaching his base. Keralis doesn't let go of him until they've found his bedroom.

"There you go. One comfortable bed," Tango says, patting the covers. Keralis helps Etho sit down, Etho gritting his teeth whilst he gets situated.

"And no leaving it, sir!" Keralis says, back to his dramatic movements now Etho isn't attached to his side. "Bedrest for you."

"Ugh," Etho leans his head against the wall behind him. "That's no fun."

"I think you've had enough fun for today!" Tango decides. "I'm going to grab some potions, make sure you don't need to go anywhere." Etho nods, too tired to thank him. Keralis pets through Etho's hair, Bdubs lightly patting Etho's thigh.

"There you go, you big baby," Bdubs teases, his voice soft with affection. "Get some sleep. It'll be good for you." Etho forces an eye open.

"Isn't sleeping your job?" He whispers. Bdubs scoffs, shaking out Etho's pillows. Keralis, however, laughs loudly. His fingers move to scratching Etho's scalp. That is definitely pulling him to sleep. He has to fight back a yawn.

"Come on, down, down," Keralis encourages. With a bit of help, they settle him against the pillows. His jacket is eased off, head sinking into softness.

"He looks cosy," Tango comments as he returns. Etho hears glass clink as potion bottles are set down near his head.

"Shush, we're trying to make him go to sleep," Bdubs whispers. Etho smiles.

"I'm not sleepin' yet," he mumbles.

"You should be." Is Bdubs' reply. Etho shakes his head, pleased when Keralis's hand returns to petting it.

"We'll be here when you wake up," Keralis tells him.

"Yeah," Tango agrees. "We've just moved our hang out to your base now." Etho opens his eyes, watching as Tango pulls chairs over. Keralis is sitting on his bedside table, and smiles at him when he notices Etho looking.

"You heal up good now, okay? We want a nice and healthy Etho." Etho nods, closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot." He gets another scritch as a reward. It's not long until there's laughter as the three strike up a conversation about something inane. His chest still feels like he was kicked by a horse, but at least he's in good company.

Maybe getting injured was worth it, after all.

... Nah.

[justpevensies]

Please Come Back to Me

request:  “ hi can i request a edmund angst like a really good heartbreaking one where he says really hurtful things he doesn’t mean but with a happy ending” - anonymous

blurb: Edmund says some things he didn’t mean..

A/N: my first request! this one was difficult to write but I hope you all enjoy it x

warnings: lots of angst but eventual fluff

Curled in a ball against the door, hot tears were free falling down your face spilling all over your hands and clothing. You had no idea how long you had been sat there weeping bitterly as the pain continued to sting every ounce of your being - your heart ached - and at the same time you felt numb with the sadness and shock. Muffled you could hear a voice crying from the other side of the door.

~

Very rarely did you and Edmund get in arguments but in this moment, that was exactly what you were doing. You couldn’t even remember what had triggered it but you both were here now and it was going back and forth. At the peak of this anger, Edmund said: “You know, I don’t even know why-”

“Say it!” You spat at him. 

“I don’t even know why I care. Why I bother. I can’t believe we’ve come to this”. As far as you were concerned, that was what he thought of this relationship, unworthy of attention or care. 

He stared blankly at you, there was almost no traces of remorse in his body. Tears began to glisten on your horizon and when you responded to him pleading your case, Edmund didn’t say anything and in that moment you wanted to slap him across the face for being a coward. 

This wasn’t the Edmund you knew, this wasn’t the Edmund you loved. The Edmund you knew and adored didn’t argue with you, he didn’t raise his voice at you, he wouldn’t dream of speaking to anyone like this. In fact, it scared you.

“So that’s it?” You asked sternly. “That’s us?! After everything we’ve shared, experienced and dreamt, all it will come crumbling down over some stupid argument?” You asked, arms folded. Edmund looked at you and it was a look that could kill. “Well” he scoffed, “I guess it will”.

That was not what you were expecting. Your voice went quiet, almost as if you were restrained and you asked in a whisper: “What?”

Edmund turned around and sighed, about to resume work at his desk and he responded: “I don’t know if I can talk to you like this”. At that you stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. “No!” you yelled. “I want to hear what you have to say”. 

Edmund looked at you and shrugged, “Okay”. After that, he laid it on you. He told you everything he had been feeling in the last few minutes - anger, disappointment, frustration. You knew that recently he had been overworked and tired so you assumed that contributed greatly to everything he was doing right now - probably to this very argument - but the things he was saying at this moment felt different. Every word felt like a stab at your worst insecurities, it felt like an attack and you knew you wouldn’t dream of speaking to him like this, regardless of how he made you feel. In this moment, you looked at Edmund - tears in your eyes - and for the first time you didn’t feel any love for him.

Frozen in that moment, you whispered back to him when he finished: “Is that really how you feel? I’m not enough, I’m not good enough?”

Edmund didn’t say anything, he just clenched his jaw. However, he knew that as soon as he finished that he didn’t mean a word. The pent up frustration, anxiety and exhaustion of duties he had been experiencing lately had almost possessed him and he had found no other way to let out that anger than onto you. Everything he had just said to you was how he felt about himself, yet here he was - an unworthy, stupid fool who had wasted the most joyful and good thing. He knew instantly he had made the biggest mistake.

However, his lack of response convinced you that everything he said was true. You didn’t need him to say anything, so you took that as your cue to leave.

“(Y/N)! Stop! I-”

The door to his study opened and immediately slammed shut.

~ 

You raced to your dressing room in your bedchamber, slamming the door and locking it shut. Sliding down in defeat, you just the agonising pain consume you. His words raided your head, your heart was detonated, you wanted to scream but no words came. 

Suddenly you heard another noise that wasn’t your heavy breathing or sobs: approaching footsteps. Rather quick paced footsteps. 

You had forgotten to lock your bedroom door so whoever had come to check on you (bearing in mind several people saw you in the corridors) was obviously going to waltz right in after your emotional exit. 

However, you recognized the sound of those footsteps, that walking speed. You wanted to believe it was him but everything right now was telling you he wasn’t interested and didn’t care. 

“(Y/N)?!” A pleading voice cried out. It was Edmund. 

He must have heard your cries from the other side of the door as you heard the footsteps approaching and then a loud banging on the door. The handle rattled as he attempted to burst in and - due to getting a fright - you suddenly held your breath. You were certain that your heart was pounding, as if something cruel was trying to break through. For a brief moment, everything was quiet.

~ 

That was what happened... you had no idea how long ago it was but you couldn’t see yourself moving anytime soon.

The voice crying from the other side of the door became more muffled as time ticked on. Cries, pleads and shouts from Edmund of your name gradually became more audible to you as you tried to inhale more and calm your breathing. 

“(Y/N)?!”

“(Y/N)?!”

The cries became more desperate, the thumps on the door became more repetitive but less strong, evidently it was hurting his hand. However that pain - as far as you were concerned - was nowhere near what you were enduring on the other side. 

“Oh (Y/N), open the door!” Edmund yelled through with a cracked voice. 

You didn’t want to imagine how he was looking right now because it would only tear you in two. 

You managed to piece some of your emotions together to wimper out: “Edmund-”. You heard him let out a sigh of relief before his thumping stopped. “Oh goodness (Y/N)! Please open the door!” You had somehow managed to stop crying, as if all of reality had snapped back into place. However, it felt like some alternate universe, a nightmare, and one you wanted out of quickly.

“Edmund-” you repeated, holding back more tears, “No”.

“What?” 

“Please go away”.

There was a silence before Edmund again knocked - this time in a more gentle manner - “(Y/N)” he said before you snapped: “Go away! Leave me alone!”

These words broke Edmund more than he could say, as if he wasn’t feeling guilt already. This came down on him like a tonne of bricks: you didn’t want him. He cracked involuntarily and he fell into the wood. With his face pressed against the door, some stray tears began to glide down his cheeks. You could hear him but you didn’t say a thing - right now there was no sympathy.

“Oh (Y/N)...” Edmund began to whisper. “Please... open the door. I need to talk to you”. 

You scoffed, more tears beginning to glisten: “No you don’t! You’ve made your perspective very clear” you replied sharply before burying your face in your knees. 

There was a silence but it was piercing. You could hear Edmund sniffling through the door and while you did feel compelled to open it - largely out of heartbreak -but out of stubborness you didn’t. He finally broke the tension by saying: “Listen (Y/N) you’ve got to open the door”. Just wanting him to leave you alone you shouted back: “Why should I?”

Immediately, Edmund responded: “Because I love you!”

Before you could even say anything back, he continued: “Yes. I love you! You may not believe that right now and the feeling is probably not mutual right now but I love you”. 

You were silenced and you waited to hear if he said anymore. He did.

“Oh (Y/N) I love you so much. Every aspect of your being - your radiant smile, your character, the fact that you are truly genuine, caring and loving regardless of who or circumstance. I would compare you to the beautiful things of this world but none could do justice for you are so perfectly different from everyone and everything else. I cannot tell you how blessed I am to have you in my life - you’re a saving grace to me. However, I understand if that loving nature isn’t extended to me currently-”

You slowly began to stand up at the other side of the door, at the same time your head had fallen silent and no words were capable of coming from your mouth.

“I’ve been a fool. I was stupid and immature, and instead of talking about how I was actually feeling because of all this outside pressure, I took all of my own doubts about myself and put them onto you. You will never be like that - you are worthy of every ounce of love and praise, you are a saint. If I have to spend every day proving that to you then I will do that but I know I am unworthy to have you for making you feel how I did.

There was a pause.

“If you can find it in your heart to forgive me-” you heard Edmund whisper before breaking into tears. At that you leaned against the door, pressing your hand to the wood. Your heart ached, torn in two. He sniffled, wiping away any emotion before continuing: “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll never make you feel the way I have ever again. You’ll never doubt my love for you. I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t even know why I said it. But I know it was wrong”. 

Those final words were the ones you needed and they began to patch your brokenness. He finally said: “If you will forgive me, I will dedicate all of my soul to yours. ” It was a bold statement but Edmund knew it was genuine and you could feel the truth from within it. “Please come back to me?” he asked in a whisper but you remained in your position, listening against the wood, unable to move from the response you had just heard. 

The silence marked the answer. Edmund began to cry yet again outside and, defeated, he turned and walked away. His legs almost gave way and more tears began to fall - he had never known a feeling of loss and pain like this one. It was the pain that you could only feel when something special was taken away from you too soon, too unexpected, and he knew it was his fault.

Suddenly, from behind, he heard a noise and as he turned to see, he saw the door was unlocked, the handle moving at an angle and you stepped out from the hiding. You looked at his face, drowned in grief and his body beginning to sink, and the vision in front of you was a broken man. As Edmund looked at you, his heart pounded - unaware of what was coming and whether to be hopeful or not - and you simply responded: “I will forgive you”.

Without anything else being said, the two of you sprinted to one another and embraced closer than you had ever been. The most deepest of kisses was shared and almost instantly all of the pain had been washed away. Through muffled voices you both cried “I love yous” and Edmund restated his promise of faithfulness and love - you believed every word. 

After kissing several more times, Edmund held your face in his hands delicately and he smiled brightly at the look on your face. Your crying had been replaced with tears of joy. You just wanted to hear him tell you how much he loved you again and again and as you gazed into his eyes, you knew those words were true. This was the Edmund you knew, this was the Edmund you loved...and would continue to love for all time.