#but it doesn't end here. someone took my device while i was on my break. i was about to have another panic attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blackiraven · 1 year

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Hey, I love your writing! Can I ask for some arkham! medical care? Maybe see how Eddie would take care of John in his state. Or how will he try to save him since he doesn't have much time left.

Thank you very much! I'm glad to know that🙏💗

Hmm, I think it would look like this, because according to my headcannons, when John was hurt by Croc, someone else was taking care of him, and Edward was in Arkham at the time.

"Well-well-well. What do we have here?" passing another inconspicuous alley, I finally got to the blinking dot on my radar. It was difficult to see the body lying on the asphalt among the dirt and debris. Only the blood-colored puddles gave alarm signals. I turned off the small device and squatted down in front of my find. All his clothes were soaked through and were torn as well as his face. The broken glove turned into useless scrap metal, some parts almost pierced through the hand. Yes, break my inventions, don't take care of them, Crane, because I love making new ones for you so much. There were bruises on his forehead, the rest of the parts were covered with bruises. But there's too much blood around, so there's a more serious injury hiding somewhere.

"Argh… couldn't you find a better place?" muttering to myself, I gently turned John onto his back with the help of a cane. He groaned loudly, clutching the beacon in his whole hand, which had been sending me a signal for help all this time. Another brilliant idea of mine, which repeatedly saved the life of the stubborn lord of fear. And mine… sometimes. A scarlet spot was growing on his side. That's the answer. What can hold a Scarecrow? A peg. Swollen with water and blood, wooden fragments protruded from the flesh. And how did you just happen to, Crane? At my first attempts to lift him up, John groan, coughed up blood and shuddered with every breath. The air whistled in his throat like in a damaged flute.

"Just try to die now, Crane. Don't count on me to organize your funeral." despite Jonathan's protesting groans, I lifted his flabby body in one sharp movement and partially threw it over my shoulder. He hissed and growled from the disturbing pain, but still took small steps with trembling legs. I held his bleeding wounds and helped him walk, putting half of his weight on myself.

"Kha… Edward… ngh!" he came to himself for a while and buried his cold face in my neck. Goosebumps ran down the back of my neck, but I let John take some of my warmth.

"What always runs and gets lost, but stumbles at the thresholds? The road! We have a long way to go, so don't waste your strength and don't attract too much attention." I whisper in his ear and hold him closer to me. In response, John calmed his trembling a little, clenched his teeth and swallowed a bloody clot. The damaged hand, through a wild pain, lay on my arm and also restrained the bleeding. Excellent. I'm loving it. With a slight smile and a deep breath of the night and stinking air, I confidently walked to a safe place.

It took all night to remove the pieces of wood from John's body. They got stuck too deep and partially split. Probably, during the escape, he fell from a decent height onto some kind of structure. I even had to cut off the dangling pieces of skin. Thanks to a large amount of painkillers, Crane lay quietly on the improvised operating table and did not distract me from the painstaking work. I often yawned and wiped sweat from my forehead. Each piece taken out took away part of my strength. My hands were numb from fatigue and could suddenly twitch at the most inopportune moment, which made him cry out and shake his head.

"Umph… sorry." I bit my lips in excitement and tried to stay neat. When the stage of suturing and a tight bandage began, my swollen fingers got tangled, but in the end I was able to cope with the most difficult task. The metal fragments were easier to remove, and his hand was quickly bandaged. Finally, I wiped the dried blood off him and treated all the abrasions. My eyes were closing, but I had to finish everything so that he would definitely live until the next night. Crane's new face, which had become familiar to me, was even more distorted by heavy blows, but I could still distinguish his emotions under the torn skin. He seemed to be reproaching himself and cursing the whole world for another humiliating defeat. Don't worry, Scarecrow, I won't divulge this secret, but I'll remember it well. I love juggling other people's secrets at the right and intimate moments.

Exhale of relief. Completely soiled gloves were pulled off from sweaty palms and thrown far away. I arched my back, stretched my neck with a crunch, plopped down on a chair and briefly closed my tired and dry eyes. Just for a little while… the darkness is so relaxing and overshadows all thoughts. The physical shell soaked with fatigue ceased to be felt. It creeps up like a predator, but at the same time sweeter than anything in the world. A dream… a dream.

My wadded body was picked up by a certain flow. I was floating, but the next second I fell down, but I didn't crash. My eyes snapped open. My torso was bent forward, and my head was resting on Crane's chest. His hands gently held me and drew me to their owner in a demanding manner. Fingers with blackened and cracked nails were picking through strands of my hair and scratching the back of my head.

"And what happened to you?" chuckling, I closed my eyes again. "I don't want to… talk about it…" he finally spoke in a hoarse voice. "You old straw bag, you don't think about me at all. Stubborn… stubborn idiot." I squirm a little, looking for a more comfortable place on a thin body. "At times like this… all I think about is you. All my hope… is only in you, Edward." the words came out in a dry cough. "M-m-m. Are you trying to flatter me, Crane?" "Hah… do you like it?" "Yes."

I had to get up for a while and go get a glass of water so that John would not completely lose the ability to speak. He looked with misty eyes at the ceiling, then at me, and each of my actions caused a soft smile on his creepy face. His bandaged hand involuntarily shuddered, which brought unpleasant pain impulses. But I took Crane's hand firmly in mine and didn't let the cramps torment him.

"I'm sorry… I didn't save the glove." "You know I love making new ones for you ."

#scriddler #riddlecrow #scarecrow #riddler #jonathan crane #edward nygma #arkhamverse #arkham series #Blacki's fanfiction #Blacki's ask

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an-ecu-harrypotter-au · 5 months

Text

TPS Part 7: Mother Nature's Son

Ah finally wake up after who knows how long Ah was sleepin. Ah sit up real slow an' Ah look at Trevor. He's jus' lyin' there in his tank an' it looks like he ain't moved at all since Ah last saw him. Ah'm a lil confused bout how mah stuff an Ah got here. Somebody musta brought 'em while Ah was sleepin.

"Ya doin good lil buddy?"

He ribbits so Ah get up real quick an Ah hobble on over ta Trevor's tank. Ah put some type a worm inta Trevor's tank an Ah see em suck it up. It makes a real mess a his face. Trevor looks at me real concerned an Ah know Trevor's worried 'bout mah well bein' so Ah smile a lil for 'em.

"Yer a good froggie, Trevor. Even if ya got a wormy all over yer face. Ah'mma wipe ya clean."

Ah go ta get a paper towel but when Ah look at Trevor Ah see him cleanin’ the worm off a himself. Ah giggle an get closer ta his tank.

"Ya oughta be a good boy, Trevor. Ah'm gonna be goin downstairs fer mah first day a wizardin' school. Be nice ta the other froggies."

Ah finish puttin' on mah uniform, pick up mah backpack an' head out the door.

"Toby? Are you alright?"

Ah notice Jacklin an' the cauldron. It doesn't look like Jacklin's had much sleep either, but Ah don't wanna say anythin' yet. Ah've gotta start the day nice.

"Ah'm real confused bout wha happened last night. How'd Ah end up in mah new bed?"

"Our prefect carried you upstairs after I brought it to his attention that you fainted."

Ah nod then look at the cauldron an' dunno what else ta say, so Ah ask a question.

"Wha's wit the cauldron?"

"I’m bringing it to our Potions class today. I don’t want Professor Snape to take points away because we’re not prepared."

The name "Snape" sounds like someone's mispronouncin' "snake." Like "Snakin' around" or somethin'. But Ah don't wanna say that ta Jacklin jus' yet, since we jus' got up an' Ah wanna be nice ta Jacklin till mah day goes sour.

"Ya sure do seem prepared."

"I also took the time to look through our schedule and put everything that you need in your strange human device."

Ah raise mah eyebrow cause Ah got no idea what she's sayin.

"Mah what?"

"Oh. That big thing there."

Ah look at where she's pointin an Ah realize wha' she means now.

"Tha's mah backpack. It ain't that strange. Jus bout every kid uses 'em."

"How do you use it?"

"Ah jus' put it on like this."

Ah pick up mah backpack an put it on carefully.

"Tha's how Ah do it."

"Marvelous."

Ah'm glad Ah somehow managed ta impress 'er. Ah ain't realized that showin 'er somethin simple like a backpack'd do that.

"How'd ya usually carry thangs if ya ain't got a backpack?"

"I put everything in my cauldron. We're not allowed to use magic in the corridors here, so on Potions days I just use that. My wand and quill are in the pockets of my robe."

"So ya really gotta know what ya need fer what day."

She nods at me.

"Yes that’s why I carefully planned how to carry everything last night."

"Well... yer real smart."

Ah look at 'er books in the cauldron an' think maybe it's a good idea.

"Ya know, Ah never woulda thought a that."

"So where did you get this backpack? I noticed that it had a lot of little zippers on it and wasn't sure if it's common."

Ah look at mah backpack.

"Pop bought it fer me. It's real tough. Ah could drop it outta one a these windows an' it jus' wouldn't break."

She picks up another cauldron an Ah figure it's gotta be mine.

"Do you think you can put your cauldron in there? I wasn't exactly sure how to get it to fit."

"Sure, Ah'll try it."

Ah open up mah backpack an' try ta make room. There's a buncha' magic stuff in mah way but Ah move it round an' eventually manage ta fit mah cauldron in. When Ah finish Jacklin's lookin up at me wit these big eyes all lil girls get when they're 'mazed.

"That’s amazing. Humans are so crafty without magic."

"Yeah. We get crafty, tha's fer sure."

Ah close mah backpack an' get ready ta head on downstairs.

Time Skip

"Do you have any special interests Toby?"

"Well, Ah like pancakes a lot, but Ah think tha's jus' normal."

Ah shove as much pancake as Ah can fit in mah mouth.

"Does that mean you like cooking? I was thinking that if you had any special interests you might be able to find classes here that relate to them."

"Nah Ah don't cook."

"Have you ever thought about what you want to be when you grow up?"

"Not really."

Ah feel bad 'cause Ah jus' don't got any thoughts 'bout mah future.

"That makes sense. It’s hard to figure out how to use your magic if you haven’t learned anything about it yet."

"Yeah. Ok."

"Do you want to read our Potions book together?"

Ah look at Jacklin an' she's got a book open.

"Ok. Ah dunno if Ah'm gonna understand it though."

"I think this first chapter is about our supplies and why we need them."

"Oh, tha's good. Ah could use some supply learnin'."

Ah start lookin' at the book an' it looks like it's letter based. Ah know how ta read, but these're real small an' Ah gotta look real hard ta know which letter's next.

"Did your Pop ever get your vision checked?"

"No. Do Ah need ta have em checked?"

"I'm not sure since I have no idea why reading this book is difficult for you."

"Sometimes the way the book's printed makes it hard ta read. Ah don't like books that got all these words an nothin ta break it up like pictures."

"Oh. So it’s a reading problem and not a vision problem."

"Yeah."

She goes back ta readin like Ah never said it. Ah guess tha's good cause it's better than laughin at me.

"I never thought that a cauldron’s metal would make a difference in how fast a potion’s brewed."

Ah finally get ta a page tha's got pictures a cauldrons on it. It looks like the cauldrons're the place where all the magic happens in 'potion makin.'

"How do ya know when yer doin' it right?"

"With potion making you have to read everything carefully. Each potion is different so a lot can go wrong. From what my father told me, smoke is normal but nothing should explode or boil over."

"Yeah."

It looks like Ah got the basics. Ah think Ah'm all set for the first potions class. It's scary but... it's ok. Ah hear the bell ring.

"I think we can go right to the dungeons for Potions with Professor Snape."

"Why'd Mr. Snape wanna have Potions class down in the dungeons?"

"You have to call him Professor Snape. The dungeons are a great place for potion making. They’re well ventilated and also act as a storage space for ingredients that are sensitive to sunlight.

"Oh. Well, tha's okay then."

Ah try ta imagine it better but Ah still mostly see spiders an' bats.

Time Skip

"It looks like we made it to class a little early today."

"How much time d'ya think we have?"

"I believe we have just enough time to organize everything we could possibly need for today’s class."

Ah sit back straight in mah chair an' watch Snape walk in. He looks real grouchy. This class seems like it's gonna be harder than Ah thought.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes bewitching the minds, and ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death."

Ah watch Snape talk an' Ah feel a lotta magic words jus' fly inta mah head.

"I can see some of you have brought all of the required ingredients and equipment as if you expected to produce a potion on your first day. Well done. For those of you who brought everything you will be given a point for Gryffindor. You all also should have read the introductory chapter of your book prior today's class. So if I were to ask what the difference is between a brass, copper, and pewter cauldron I would assume you would all know the answer."

"The difference is the brewing speed. First years normally use a pewter cauldron because it brews at the slowest speed."

Ah look over at Jacklin. Ah guess she knows all the answers.

"Correct. Now can anyone tell me what a bezoar is?"

Somehow Ah know that answer an raise mah hand. Ah remember thinkin bout it last night cause it was our password.

"Mr. Kwimper."

"It's a stone found in a goat's stomach. Also an antidote."

"To what?"

"Most poisons."

Snape looks at me. Ah guess he can tell Ah ain't British but he don't look like he's mad.

"Correct. The only thing a bezoar can not do is neutralize the effects of Basilisk venom."

Ah write all this down cause it sounds real important. Ah dunno how ta spell baslick but Ah do mah best.

"Turn to Chapter 2: Elementary Potions. Our first lesson will be about making the Cure for Boils Potion. This is your first test to see if you have any skill in potion making. A beginner worth teaching will successfully make such a basic potion before the end of class. You will be working in pairs to complete this potion. I will not tolerate students who backpack off of others."

Ah get paired up wit Jacklin. Ah hope Ah don't let 'er down.

Time Skip

Ah'm readin of the final steps ta the potion. Ah ain't screwed up anythang an even kept Jacklin from makin a big mistake. She awmost put porcupine quills in the cauldron before takin it off the fire which coulda melted our cauldron.

"1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. Awright turn the heat down."

Jacklin turns down the heat an uses the potion makin spell wit 'er wand.

"Curious Boilus!"

Ah get a little nervous when Ah see the potion boilin'.

"I see pink smoke. We did it Toby!"

Ah see Snape comin up ta us.

"Pour the potion into the vials."

Ah listen ta Snape an' pick up the vials, fillin' em wit our potion. Ah'm a lil nervous bout what he'll say ta us.

"This is a textbook perfect potion. You and Mr. Kwimper will each receive 5 points for Gryffindor. You may start cleaning up."

Tha's it! Ah made mah first ever potion an Snape says it's perfect. Ah notice Jacklin's pretty happy too. She's lookin' over at me an she's givin' me a real nice smile as we start cleanin.

"Class is dismissed."

Ah notice a couple a kids givin' me funny looks as we leave the room. Ah don' think Ah've ever got so much attention jus' from doin' potion work.

"Let me see now. Defence Against The Dark Arts is our next class. We just need to go through the Transfiguration courtyard. The temporary classroom should be located just inside there."

Ah'm so glad Ah'm wit Jacklin. She's like a book a knowledge bout this school.

"What did you learn today during our first Potions class, Toby?"

"Well, Ah dunno much bout why we gotta use wha' we used. But Ah got a lotta experience in pickin' out non-venomous snakes. Like if ya wanna find a snake who ain't venomous ya don't wanna find no copperheads cause they got venom. Does that count fer somethin'?"

"Why of course that is an important skill to have. The snake fangs we used have to be from non-venomous snakes otherwise the potion wouldn't work. I'm not familiar with a copperhead. What type of snake is that?"

Ah repeat everythang Ah know from mah book on snakes.

"It's a type a water moccasin that're real common where Ah'm from an' compared ta others they're more likely ta bite. They're medium-sized an venomous, but they don't really kill people that much."

"What other snakes do you have there?"

Ah realize she ain't gonna know a lotta thangs Ah do.

"Ah'm from Florida, Jacklin. Full a snakes. We got big black ones. We got orange an' yellow ones. Ah even had a python in Pop's yard once, but it was only a lil one. They're not the real bad snakes, but they're not the good ones, either."

"I understand why you know so much about snakes now, Toby."

Ah get a real nice feelin’ inside when Ah hear this from Jacklin.

"So how exactly do you know what an Adder looks like?"

"Oh Adders're dark. They got like an "x" on their necks. They look mean, even if they really ain't. Ah mean Ah think snakes're real beautiful lookin’. They jus don’t want no people hangin’ round when they’re sunnin’ themselves like Ah saw a few do in Florida. Snakes don’t like company."

"I hope you won’t take this the wrong way when I say I do not plan on visiting the States during our winter holidays."

Ah dunno if Jacklin jus made a joke, so Ah try ta sound like Ah got a good sense a humor, even though Ah don't have much a one.

"Ah don’t blame ya."

"Are there any animals you are afraid of then?"

"Ah'm a lil afraid a raccoons. They can be real mean if they get mad at ya. Most're friendly an’ they leave people alone, but sometimes Ah gotta scare off a mad raccoon when it gets ta thievin' stuff or botherin' our chickens."

"What’s a raccoon?"

Ah oughta make a list a thangs we got in Florida an she's only got here.

"A raccoon's kinda like a cat, except it looks a lil like a small bear. Ah see a lotta raccoons livin' in the woods. They get in places they ain't supposed ta be, so Ah get mad at ‘em for thievin' stuff an' then the raccoons’ll get mad an' then we'll have a lil war a words."

"At least a raccoon can’t eat you the way a python can."

"Can probably out-run a raccoon, too. Just try ta stay away from the young'uns, an' tha raccoons probably won't bother ya. Don't call ‘em "trash pandas" though. Ah mean, you'll be right ta call ‘em that, but they don’t like it at all. They get real mad."

Somethin bout wha' Ah said caused Jacklin ta raise mah eyebrow an Ah dunno why.

"How would you know that as if you can talk to them like a person?"

"Ah know ‘cause when Ah’m chasin' ‘em away from our chickens, Ah yell “you trash pandas,” an’ they act real mean. If Ah call 'em, “sweet lil trash pandas” they don't get nearly as upset wit me."

"So you can talk to all animals?"

"Well, Ah talk ta the animals Ah like. Ah talk ta froggies, turtles an toadies, fer sure. Ain't nothin' really special 'bout talkin' ta animals. Ah think they like hearin' kind words, though. Ah know gators never say much, but they seem ta listen when Ah'm talkin'."

Ah dunno why Jacklin's lookin at me like Ah'm a dummy.

"Nothing special? Talking to animals is a rare skill for wizards to have. It can’t be taught."

"Oh… well then Ah reckon Ah'm special after all."

Time Skip

We make our way outside when Ah hear this weird hissin noise.

"Huh. Sounds like a snake."

"Where is it coming from?"

"It sounds like it's comin' from 'em bushes over there."

"Is it a snake?"

"Yeah."

Ah think the snake is goin' ta try ta scare us by hiss'n again.

"Do you think you can try talking to it as we walk by Toby?"

"Ah can try. Ah can try talkin' real nice. We just wanna get on by."

Ah see this big snake coiled up in tha bushes an' Ah start talkin'. Ah keep walkin' while Ah’m talkin', an’ Ah try ta sound as non-threatenin as Ah can.

"Here, Mr. Snake. We jus' wanna go on through the door. We wanna keep movin' an' we don't wanna fight ya. Can we jus' move on, Mr. Snake?"

Ah don’t see any signs tha the snake's movin'.

"Mr. Snake, we don’t wanna be late fer class. We gotta get ta class in ten minutes. Can Ah move ya?"

The snake let's me pick 'em up. Ah gently move 'em away from us so he can't scare no more kids. He's real calm while Ah do this.

"Thank ya, Mr. Snake. Ah hope ya have a good day. We gotta go now."

Ah hear the snake hissin an look back. Ah guess tha’s a kind a snake wave. Ah turn back ta the door an’ Ah smile 'cause Ah’m proud that Ah handled the snake situation so good.

"Toby you spoke Parseltongue just now."

"What're ya talkin' bout? Me speakin' ta the snake?"

"Yes. You thought you were speaking English, but it just sounded like hissing sounds to me."

Ah stop dead in mah tracks. Ah stare at Jacklin like she's lost 'er mind.

"Ya mean tha’s really what Ah sound like?"

"That’s what it sounded like to me."

Ah'm stunned an' Ah can't think a anythang ta say.

"Tha's just... tha's... Ah dunno what ta say, actually. Ah got nothin' ta say ta that."

Ah pick back up on walkin' as Jacklin an Ah make our way down the path ta class.

Time Skip

"There's Professor Quirrell the new professor for this class."

"Than-thank you for be-being on time. Th-that's a p-p-point for ea-each of you."

Ah smile as we go an sit down.

"Than-thank you all for ma-making it. My na-name is Prof-professor Quir-Quirrell. To-today we're go-going to be ta-talking about Imps."

Ah know Ah should be payin' attention but Ah jus can’t stop thinkin' about this thing with tha snakes. Ah just sit there lookin' at his weird scarf hat.

"M-make sure to-to copy th-this in your n-notes."

Ah start ta take some notes as Quirrell stutters through class.

Time Skip

"For ho-homework, please wr-write a short essay about the-the Knock-knockback Jinx. You ha-have until next we-week to fi-finish it.."

Ah’m not happy ‘bout gettin homework. Ah know Quirrell thinks it’s easy, but Ah can be a little slow sometimes. Ah can get stuck on one thing fer like... forever.

"Toby I was just about to ask if you wanted to start working on our essay during our free period after we get back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Sure. Ah don’t wanna waste no time gettin it done."

Ah smile 'cause Ah feel tha Jacklin's bein' real nice an' patient with me today. Ah ain't used ta people bein' all that nice ta me.

"Thanks Jacklin."

Ah keep walkin' an' Ah feel the stairs underneath me movin'.

"Be careful, Toby."

"Why? Ah ain’t afraid a stairs. It don’t even feel like Ah’m movin' much when they move anyway."

One a the steps disappears. Ah almost lose mah balance, but Ah ain’t at all bothered.

"See? It ain't no big deal."

"Now if only we can say that going down the stairs."

Ah smile at Jacklin an' think it was a lil joke Ah can laugh at.

"Do you remember the password Toby?"

"Yeah it's bezoar."

We go up the stairs an Ah start ta take deep breaths cause Ah ain't used ta doin all that climbin yet.

"Are you alright, Toby?"

"Yeah... Ah'm fine... Le's get started on our work."

Time Skip

"Do ya understand this Knockback Jinx stuff, Jacklin?"

"Yes. When you say the word "flipendo" and do the right wand movement, you can force your opponent to fly backwards away from you."

"Oh... Ah see. So, it's jus' one word an' then you gotta wave tha wand like this."

Ah make a wild, flickin' motion with mah wand.

"No Toby. It looks more like this."

Ah follow Jacklin's instructions wih mah wand movin' down... up... then makin' a U.

"So ya do that an then what? They'll go flyin' away?"

"Yes it's an important spell to use when you're in a duel."

"So, uh... if Ah was in a duel wit a dark wizard an' Ah froze up, would that be a real problem?"

"Yes. You could end up getting killed."

Ah feel like Ah could puke. Ah don't wanna be a total chicken so Ah try ta keep mahself tagether. Ah jus focus on mah writin.

"So uh... how ya likin Hogwarts so far?"

"Oh I love it. My father told me so many stories about his time at Hogwarts, and it's still so incredible to be here as a first year. The only thing I'm concerned about is my Veela magic. You haven't noticed any of the boys being affected by it, have you Toby?"

"Uh… not really, no. They're jus happy ta see you. Sure don't wanna do anythin dangerous ta impress ya."

Ah see some boys round us as we talk an Ah know they're jus' wonderin' if a romance's startin'. Well they're wrong cause Ah'm too smart ta be fallin fer some girl Ah jus met.

"Then again... Ya gotta have some kinda magic goin fer ya if ya look like one a 'em chubby naked angel babies."

"A what?"

"Ya know in paintin's. Ah think they're called cherubs but Ah call 'em chubby naked angel babies cause they look like 'em."

"And why on earth do you think I look like one?"

Ah dunno if she's mad or jus confused so Ah think Ah gotta be honest bout it.

"Ya got one a 'em soft chubby faces. Specially in yer cheeks. Ain't like it can't be pretty but it ain't like yer so perfect like ya say Veela can be."

She starts ta laugh an Ah feel better now cause Ah woulda thought a girl'd be sayin Ah'm a dummy fer callin her chubby.

"Now I know for sure I can trust everything you say Toby."

"Why's that?"

"I can trust you because I know no other boy would ever be able to say something like that. They would only talk about how pretty I look because of my magic."

"Well whatever works fer ya."

Time Skip

"Can you believe it, Toby? We just finished our first day of classes and can do whatever we want until dinner."

"Yeah, Ah'm really startin' ta like it here. Can't wait ta write mah letter ta Pop."

"Great. I'll meet you down here when you're done. We can go to the Owlery together."

Ah go up ta mah room an sit on mah bed. Trevor ribbits when he sees me.

"Hi buddy. Ah'm gonna write Pop a letter."

Ah try writin thangs tha'll make sense ta Pop.

"Dear Pop. Ah’m doin’ real good. Ah jus got ta school las night, an Ah ain’t bein’ picked on yet, which Ah’m real glad about. Trevor's doin good too an ain't gotten in trouble wit the other froggies an toadies here. Ah got sorted inta Griphindor. It's the Lion House an they got this big paintin that talks. Oh, an Ah met this one girl. Her name's... J-A-C-K-L-I-N. An she tol me she's a... V-E-L-A. She keeps sayin' she's gonna control me wit 'er womanly ways but Ah don't buy it. She's only 11 like me an' got one a 'em chubby baby faces some girls got. Ah figure it's jus gonna be good ol' fashioned friendship."

Ah gotta ask how mah Pop an all mah family see Veela. Ah don't wanna find out we's in a feud.

"How do ya think folks’ll feel if Ah tell 'em Ah met a Vela girl? We ain't in a feud wit 'em are we? Ah don't wanna have y'all be mad but Ah also don't wanna lose mah friendship wit Jacklin. Pacer ain't in the same House as me so she's mah only friend. So tha's pretty much it fer this letter anyways. Ah'll write ya somethin' later, an' Ah love ya. Say hi ta everyone back home."

Ah sign mah letter, Ah get ready ta take it down ta tha Owlery as soon as Jacklin finishes 'er letter.

"Hey, Trevor. Is it okay wit ya if Ah take mah letter an’ head down ta the Owlery now?"

Trevor jus' blinks at me a few times. Ah figure tha's as close ta a "Yes" as Ah'm gonna see from mah froggie.

"Hey Jacklin? Are ya ready ta go ta the Owlery yet?"

"Oh yes. I'm ready, Toby."

"Great. Le's go."

We start walkin ta the West Tower an Ah didn't realize it's gonna be real far.

"So how's this suppose ta be the best way a doin thangs? Owls ain't exactly fast."

"Well it's because the magic world is so small that despite the great distances between Scotland and London, owls are the most reliable method of communication. All wizards can use them regardless of their age, economic status or blood status. It's really the most reliable method if you don't have any urgent messages that need to be passed on."

Ah gotta think through this. If Ah got this right then owls're really good fer most types a communicatin but it ain't good fer emergencies.

"Good thang Ah ain't in no rush then."

"Yes if my father ever had any urgent messages for Headmaster Dumbledore he would have to use other methods. The grounds are charmed so that no one can apparate in or out."

"Wha's apparate mean?"

"It basically means to teleport. Not every wizard can do it so even though it is faster, it's not as reliable as owls."

Ah think Ah'm startin ta get it. Wizards use owls cause it works fer em.

"So how'll Ah know which owl's the right one fer the job?"

"It depends on where you live. Since we're in the Highlands of Scotland, father made sure to buy an Eagle owl named Arthur. I would use one of the school's Eagle owls too since it would have to cross the Irish Sea."

"Well, Ah guess Ah better be startin' awready."

Ah start lookin round tha Owlery fer an owl. Ah try ta remember what an Eagle owl looks like when Ah find one an' walk over ta it. It looks real cute an Ah feel like it's the right one.

"Heeeey, buddy."

Ah give the owl a good ol' head rub while Ah speak.

"Wha's yer name, fella?"

Ah wait in eager anticipation, but the owl don’t respond.

"Tha's okay. Ah’m sure yer a good owl in any case."

"Hoooooot."

Ah smile as Ah finally hear from somethin. Ah decide ta try one more time.

"Ohhh. Yer name's Buckbeak. Ah reckon Ah'll call ya Buck fer short. Ya think ya can help me?"

"Hooo-oot."

Ah get excited an Ah hold out mah letter fer Buck ta pick it up wit his beak.

"Buck? Ya wanna take this letter fer me?"

Buck looks at me all confused.

"Right. Sorry. Go ta Uncle Travis Kwimper's cabin in the woods in Cork, Ireland."

"Hooo-ooot."

Buck takes mah letter finally an Ah kinda like 'em now.

"So tha’s all Ah needed ta do?"

Ah coulda swore he nodded at me as he gets up. Ah decide ta wait an watch Buck fly away. Ah watch em slowly get smaller till Ah see em disappear.

"Take this to Gryffindor Manor please, Arthur."

Arthur starts flyin away.

"Thanks fer yer help, Jacklin. Do ya know when Ah'd be gettin a letter back?"

"I think you should be able to get a reply by Friday."

"Ah can’t wait ta hear from Pop. Ah'm gonna tell ‘em bout Buckbeak when he writes back."

We leave the Owlery an jus wanna take a nap before dinner.

Time Skip

"Ya know there's somethin Ah do got a special interest in?"

"Oh really? What is it?"

"Well... is knowin bout plants an gardenin important fer magic?"

"Oh yes! Herbology is a very important subject. In fact if you're not an excellent Herbology student, Potions would be just as difficult. They often go hand in hand."

Ah gotta think bout that. Ah know bout schools havin gardenin clubs but Hogwarts ain't a normal school. Ah don't wanna get mah hopes up over somethin that don't exist.

"They got any type a plant club here?"

"I remember some of the fourth year students were talking about being assistants to Professor Sprout. It's not exactly a club but you get House points for helping a professor outside of class."

"Ooh. Ah gotta talk ta Sprout then. Some a mah earliest memories was a me helpin mah momma wit 'er plants."

Ah start thinkin bout what helpin Sprout'd look like. Ah don't wanna be takin care a Venus Fly Trap plants. But maybe Ah won't be gettin that type a job right off the bat. Either way Ah gotta ask the teacher cause Ah wanna show Ah can be good at somethin.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @nemos-rapture, @xanatenshi, @briefpandatimemachine, @hooked-on-elvis,

@vintagepresley, @aliengoth3, @smokeymountainboy, @bigdaddyelvislover, @mercsandmonsters,

@pledgingmylovee, @presleysgirl6, and @thetaoofzoe.

#toby and the veela #the philosopher's stone #parseltongue #toby the parselmouth

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thebreakfastgenie · 1 year

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Part of the difference I think is as follows:-

For Hawkeye; aiding and abetting cheating by hitting on people who are married/engaged is an immoral thing to do by many people's standards, but many people consider it to be immoral in a vastly different way to cheating on a partner. i.e. encouraging someone else to break a vow, vs breaking a vow yourself.

(This is one of those times as well when the show presents it in different ways over time - e.g. in one episode he's actively seducing an engaged nurse while she fends him off with "Hawkeye, I'm trying to be faithful" and similar; in one episode he carries on an affair with a married woman but justifies this morally to himself because she's his "first love"; and in one, he flirts with a woman he believes to be married but is openly conflicted around this culminating in the "you're married, madam - you're a married madam, why don't I go away?" speech.)

For BJ; I think people perceive the adultery here as different too because BJ appears morally conflicted about it in a way that Trapper isn't. Trapper appears to approach his infidelity with a casual, "when at war", "what she doesn't know won't hurt" kind of attitude (note: those aren't and aren't intended to be direct quotes, just examples of the attitude he seems to be expressing) whereas the time(s)* that BJ is adulterous he feels as though he has done something wrong and doesn't know what to do about it, and in the case of Hanky Panky, ends by reaffirming his love for his wife and that he doesn't want to do anything like that again. I think this makes his adultery easier for some people to stomach as he approaches it like a mistake that he has made, and is remorseful about, and wants to not do again; whereas Trapper does not treat the adultery as anything he should feel remorseful about, or strive to avoid.

Generally I am not sure how much weight to give these but I do want to be mindful that these are complicated issues and it is not treated equally in all situations.

(That asterisk above refers to; I believe the only time BJ is depicted as committing physical adultery is with Carrie Donovan in Hanky Panky, but in War Co-Respondent he expresses a desire for a woman other than his wife - not just physical attraction, but a desire to pursue a relationship.)

Personally one of the reasons I struggle with Trapper as a character -- and I don't hold this against anyone who does like him, I just don't -- is that a) I find it distasteful that he retains the name that he was given in the book due to being a canonical rapist, and this doesn't sit right with the way the humour of the early seasons of the show uses comedy sexual assault that it doesn't seem to think is sexual assault as a plot device b) I think he was underwritten in the TV series and not given sufficient opportunities to distinguish himself and c) I just don't find his more complicated moments as a character particularly memorable or engaging (even though I know they exist).

Okay I'm going to have to stop you here, because Trapper in the book is not a canonical rapist. The story of how he got his name is that he was caught with his date in a train bathroom and the only think she could think to say was "he trapped me!" The tone implies that it was a consensual hook-up, and "he trapped me!" was her attempt to save face after being embarrassed. Note that this would have happened in the 1940s, when women faced severe judgment for being sexually active. This story is misogynistic and it does trivialize sexual assault. It also perpetuates the idea of women "crying rape" to save face or because they consented to sex and regretted it. I'm not defending it. But I think it's important to talk about it accurately. I personally do not doubt that the woman consented to hooking up with him in the train bathroom, just based on my experience of consuming media from an era that took sexual assault much less seriously and how such things were characterized, but at worst it's ambiguous, not canonically a rape.

I also really don't understand holding this against TV Trapper, who does retain the name, but not the backstory. They kept the name because it was his name in the book and more importantly in the movie, and the character wouldn't have been recognizable without it, but they never reference that origin in the show. We don't know why TV Trapper is called Trapper. It's simply never established. I understand being uncomfortable with the train story, but that isn't TV Trapper's backstory. Oliver Jones is a popular character, despite his nickname--which is the only name he has in the show--being racist. I don't mean to be rude but I just can't take this seriously.

As for the rest... look, I appreciate you explaining this, because I did say I didn't understand the reasoning. But none of this means anything to me. Cheating is a violation of trust. I don't think BJ violated Peg's trust less because he felt bad about it afterwards. If anything, I prefer how Trapper does it.

I don't think knowingly sleeping with someone who's married or in a committed relationship is somehow less bad than cheating. Maybe we just disagree on that, and that's fine. But for me, it's about respect and trust, and participating in cheating from that side is still disrespectful. Hawkeye only shows hesitation once, and while he is clearly conflicted about it, I'm not at all certain he wouldn't have gotten over it if it hadn't turned out she wasn't really married. That's also a unique Hawkeye storyline, bordering on out-of-character, because the comedy comes from the role reversal of Hawkeye being more serious and he wants to marry her within a few days. I also think being serious about her is why he reacts differently to her being married, aside from the episodic sitcom depending-on-the-writer inconsistency. He is serious about Carlye as well, but in that case he just doesn't respect her marriage at all because he thinks he had her "first." Erika's apparent marriage bothering him is the exception, not the rule.

As for the show treating sexual assault lightly early on, I agree with that as a criticism, but Hawkeye is one of the worst offenders, so I don't really have any patience for people who find it unforgivable for Trapper but not Hawkeye. Also, surprisingly, the one least dirty in all of that is Frank. I also don't see how this relates to Trapper's nickname, honestly, beyond the book, movie, and show being made in an era that didn't take sexual assault as seriously as we do now.

#mashposting

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that-wildwolf · 1 year

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Tea as metaphor for love? Oh do tell! *so into this*

OH BOY okay get ready for this because I've been waiting to nerd out about this for SO LONG

Sorry it took me so long to answer, but I had to take a while to organise my thoughts on this because I have so many!!!! So here's the theme of tea in Edge of Yesterday and how it symbolises love and affection for Shepard, Garrus, and mostly Hannah.

First, laying out the land AKA the story and the characters. The story can be divided into three acts:

act 1, where Shepard is juxtaposed with a past she doesn't remember (and grows to resent as time goes by). This part is essentially an ongoing crisis for her (and, though to a lesser degree, for Garrus), where they just get worse and worse until things inevitably reach their breaking point. There are several main character POVs along the way, but Shepard, Garrus, and Hannah come up most often.

act 2, where Shepard is mentally in a better place and is getting the help she needs, but has to deal with the repercussions of everything she did during act 1. After she drove nearly everyone away, act 2 is filled with loneliness. The setting of the large bustling city feels empty now, and Shepard and Garrus are the only two remaining main characters. This part focuses mostly on fixing their relationship, and showing Shepard's willing to change and get better.

and act 3, which leads into the ending and focuses mostly on advancing the plot, as well as Shepard's confrontation with her past. This one's... a work in progress.

The theme of tea — which means more the act of offering tea to someone than drinking it for the purpose of this post — comes into play largely during act 1 and as a narrative device, helps with the shift between act 1 and act 2.

Here's where the characters are at: When Shepard was a little kid, her mother would give her peppermint tea when she was upset, so she has learned to connect that taste (and the act of Warm Bevarage™) to familial love and acceptance. But then Shepard grew up and she and her mom drift apart and lose all the closeness they had when she was younger. This changes after Shepard dies. Especially during ME3, the two of them grow close again, and though they're both kind of emotionally repressed still, they're getting there.

So Hannah is now close with her daughter and wants to work on their relationship and put in that effort, but Shepard has effectively reverted to who she used to be. She doesn't trust that her mother has good intentions, so she's more likely to reject that love and affection. That's where Garrus comes into play. He and Hannah have just spent several months together, and have learned to trust each other. All that potential love Hannah has for her daughter she can give to Garrus. And Garrus, who is about just as emotionally repressed as Shepard, is looking for connection right now. He's all alone on an alien world, has no idea if his family is alright or even alive, and has just lost the person he loves.

Garrus wants someone who would be there for him now that Shepard isn't, but he would never seek that out on his own. And Hannah is hurting but also willing to do the heavy lifting in her relationship with Shepard — and has grown to care about Garrus over the last year.

This is where we reach the first breaking point, the chapter Hoping. When Shepard and Garrus inevitably meet and kind-of-sort-of talk, both of them get hurt and both of them try to deal with it how they can. After Tali's well-meaning but ill-timed advice in Hurt, Garrus decides that the best way to forget his pain is to get very drunk, and Shepard, after getting a panic attack as soon as she made it home, calls her mom.

Hannah comes by to find Shepard completely stressed out and panicked, angry and sad and her emotions all over the place — and the first thing she does is offer to make her a cup of tea. This is what she's always done to calm her down, and it's her way of showing support and love. Shepard initially accepts — she instictively, deep inside, wants to feel some support and affection in a situation where it seems like she's completely alone — but when things become to real for her to handle, she ultimately rejects Hannah's well-meaning support.

Now everyone is hurting, but Hannah does one last thing. Even though her affection has just been rejected by Shepard, she worries about Garrus. In the next chapter, when Hannah brought Garrus home to take care of him, the first thing she does is make him a cup of tea just like she did with Shepard in the previous chapter. Garrus at that moment becomes essentially a second chance for her to do something good. Like Shepard, he's close enough with her that she's protective of him like she would be of her own child. Like Shepard, he's been hurt and she extends her affection and support to him, and offers him a cup of tea. Unlike Shepard, he accepts that love.

Tea comes up a few more times over the next few chapters, but only between Garrus and Hannah. After Shepard had refused that cup of tea, her relationship with her mother has grown more distant again — the exact way she had perceived it to be. A self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way. So while the theme of tea isn't gone completely, it's out of Shepard's reach. Even when she and Garrus more or less start getting along again in Find My Way Home, they go out for coffee instead.

Tea comes up again two more times: once at the very end of act 1, and once at the beginning of act 2. The first act ends with Shepard in the hospital again and, more importantly, with Garrus blaming himself for it. But just when he thinks he's alone in this, Hannah shows up by his side with words of encouragement and a cup of tea. He goes to see Shepard immediately after that.

After the timeskip at the beginning of act 2, tea comes up one last time. Despite everything she'd gone through, Shepard is now going to therapy and slowly but steadily getting her life back on track. A peaceful scene: Shepard is now at home, alone, making some tea for herself. After starting to heal and beginning to accept herself (and, to a small degree, also her past), she's comfortable with herself. She finally is in a place where she has love to give.

And when Garrus comes by in that same chapter, the first thing she does is offer him a cup of tea.

OKAY there it was, a very chaotic very quickly written rambly meta post about my own fic. Thank you so much for enabling me @wingsy-keeper-of-songs this has been burning a hole in my brain for sooooo long

also idk fic link here in case this was confusing and you had no idea what the hell im talking about lmao [Edge of Yesterday | AO3]

#wild answers things #my fics #mass effect meta #about my own fic #whatever #i enjoyed this #thank you so so so much #wild rambles #edge of yesterday tag

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bloomfish · 3 months

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this show has absolutely floored me btw. i am agog. the themes were themeing, the performances were performing... i honestly think s2 was better than the first series and that's saying something because I really enjoyed s1. definitely one of the better tv shows i've seen in a while

i'm just gonna get out my thoughts so spoilers for s2 of iwtv

i was mildly spoilered on here but not in a way that matters ❤️ (also I'm not someone who cares about spoilers that much lol so I wasn't blacklisting) like it really made no difference, because the things I saw were either very predictable (claudia dying, lestat returning in general) or made no sense out of context and the main beats were still as impactful as they were meant to be, I think. I could NOT have predicted lestat returning the way he did, either in new orleans or at the (count olaf voice) theatre

speaking of the theatre, what a GREAT device that was. from a technical standpoint the set and visuals were absolutely gorgeous and just so effective. and SANTIAGO. what a delight to watch him on my screen. great chemistry with the other cast members. i particularly enjoyed how he was played off lestat at the trial, the tensions were crazy and you could see this guy who was used to the limelight being suddenly dimmed by lestat's command of the audience. his death was great but kind of a shame just because he was so entertaining to watch lol

lestat. like i said sam reid was born to play this character and he absolutely eats up the scenery like WHAT a performance, start to finish. ive seen some "discourse" about he sucks and i feel like that's not the point. they are all evil because they are vampires who kill people so let's start there. Anyway, he was brilliant as always, his vulnerability AND his exuberance and all of it. lestat they could never make me hate you❤️

the scene at the end between between louis and lestat amidst the hurricane in new orleans... i had my hand over my mouth the entire time, i was GASPING i was heartbroken. jacob anderson another impeccable performance as louis, absolutely smashed it. the chemistry between reid and anderson is WILD whenever they're around each other i am going insane

armand, i'm so obsessed with him. he really got to let loose this season after being somewhat understated for most of s1 and assad zaman DELIEVERED. boy did he deliver. i absolutely love him, i am naming my three children after him

claudia 💔 it was obvious what was coming since she was introduced in s1. delainey hayles brought such complexity to the role. i can't believe she's english like jacob anderson, admittedly my familiarity with new orleans accent is limited so idk how well they did. madeleine was also excellent. im insane about it

daniel molloy both younger and elder.... so good. loved seeing the friendship growing between him and louis and their history. loved seeing him and armand being insane in a room together. daniel molloy the accidental couples therapist that you are ❤️

other notes:

i am glad i'm not french because i think their accents would bother me lol. (gus fring breaking bad's spanish really took me out of what was otherwise a great performance). Even while not speaking French I could tell a few were meh, especially secondary actors. But I also know this must be difficult to do, and if it doesn't impact the performance too much it's fine.

the sartre cameo and daft punk reference.. im lmao. but apart from that the level of detail and care given to recreating post war paris... just phenomenal

i'm starting to think maybe i just like vampires. I was always like 'vampires arent really my thing and buffy is the exception' but idk idk maybe i'll read the books

#iwtv #iwtv spoilers #watching iwtv #im not interested in being involved in the fandom really but the 'this character is problematic' type thing is so funny to me #first of all they are murderers so jot that down #same thing happens with buffy lol oh well

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ororosmunroe · 2 years

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Because I trust your judgement, how would Namor and Ororo's first meet go? I'm becoming increasingly invested in the possibilities of these two because we have a fine ass Namor and it's ORORO. I'm not sure if it would canon-compliant considering we still don't have 'Ro in the MCU, but like in your mind, how would it go?

Honestly, there are so many avenues it could go and I'll be honest I'm conflicted on how I'd actually want it.

(Mind you: I fully realize that this could seem creepy but Namor's reasons for coming out of the sea are pretty rare. So. It doesn't foster a typical meet-cute. Also sorry that this took so long to answer but also that it's not even done lmaoo.)

Option 1:

Namor catches a glimpse of her while training, She's sky-riding just letting loose and having fun. Perhaps she's on vacation?) and he's mesmerized because when has the surface world ever produced something so beautiful? Never, so then she must be divinely made. A logical deduction tbh.

He hears her relaxed melodic laughter and is CHARMED. He keeps a low profile because he doesn't want to be found out but also because he doesn't want to disturb her and also a little bewildered because no surface dwellers have flown without some sort of device in all his years.

He leaves Ororo feeling a little enchanted but sends scouts out just to be sure she isn't a possible threat. He is a leader after all.

They find nothing.

Then it's MONTHS until he sees her again and the only reason why he sees her is that a part of the ocean is being disturbed. Underwater twisters are getting a bit too close to Talokan and he needs to figure out why it's happening and put an end to it. He notices that twisters aren't being caused by the currents but from above.

So he ventures out of the ocean and sees that the sky is in chaos. Something in him tells him not to write this off. That a storm like this isn't natural. So he again ventures higher and ends up seeing Ororo.

Ororo is clearly distraught over something despite all the rain he can see the pain in her eyes and posture.

She was making this happen?

He slowly ventures towards her. He makes his presence known.

it takes her a minute to notice him but when she does the shock of seeing someone else in the air unaided by machinery snaps her out of sadness and puts her in defensive mode.

He does his best to tell her that he means no harm but it isn't until he shouts, " GODDESS, MY PEOPLE ARE IN DANGER!"

That she relents. She looks down and sees figures staring up and she's appalled. She does her best to calm herself down, and soon enough the skies clear and the only sound is the water below.

Then it's just them. Staring eye to eye

The moon was their backdrop. Her hair glowed from the light of the moon. Her eyes finally revealed a blue only captured after an intense storm. Skin shining like precious jewels. In all his years no one has made him so speechless.

She's the one to break eye contact. She gets skittish, clearly remorseful. He sees the shame envelope her. He isn't mad, more so worried. Not of the power, that this being possessed but of the cause of the unleashing.

What has caused a goddess such distress?

"I-I am...so sorry! I came here because I thought- Well, clearly I was mistaken." Quickly wiping her face, " Please, was anyone hurt?"

He tells her no. He watches her as her body relaxes, her eyes shining with tears once more but her mouth turns upwards into a grateful smile.

" Thank you, Bright Lady...and you, you've stopped me from making a tragic mistake." She whispers as she cups the front of her face with her hands. " Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

There was silence again before Ororo finally collected herself and looked directly at him.

He feels his heart beginning to race, and his mouth becomes dry leaving him unable to speak. She looks at him with wonder and warmth.

"The world is filled with such wonders. A people that live under the sea without detection...? Do not worry I will not tell a soul. Again, please forgive my disturbance. Goodbye."

She's about to fly off when he finally finds his voice.

" My name is Kukuklan." He did not tell of his other name, for he never wanted to be her enemy. "....and your name Goddess?"

He sees her become a little shy, which he finds endearing, but she answers the question that has been plaguing him for months.

"Ororo, but I'm no Goddess I'm afraid."

The name suits her perfectly, he thinks.

" Well In my humble estimation, no human could hold such power or even be worthy of such a gift. So I'm afraid...the title will have to stand. "

She smiles at him, shaking her head. " You're too kind. I've made such a poor and disastrous introduction and yet you compliment me. I should go."

" As I've said no harm was done, but if you really must go...I only hope your heart is now lighter than it was before, Goddess."

" Thank you." She takes the sincerity in his words for what they are. Trying to swallow down the embarrassment of being caught in a such vulnerable state. "If we meet again, I hope it is under much better circumstances. Goodbye."

She finally flies off and leaves the God King to his own thoughts.

By the next morning, another mural is added to his wall.

#ororo munroe #namor #namororo

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fics-n-stuff · 3 years

Text

A Nice Christmas

Thanks to @gayhistorynerd for the prompt, see here (I kind of deviated from it a little maybe a lot but the story still stemmed from this prompt)

Pairing: Wilhelm × Simon

Summary: Wilhelm may have denied being in the sex tape, but that doesn't mean that the world has forgotten. The Christmas break proves to be difficult for both Simon and Wilhelm, one suffering from ongoing harassment and the other feeling completely isolated, and they find that they can't help but be drawn back to each other.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This took me so long to write because I got writer's block right after I started it. This doesn't have a super happy ending because I wanted to try and keep it pretty realistic, but it is pretty sweet and wholesome.

Taglist: @probablyprocrastinatingrightnow @rika90 @angelwilhelm

Wilhelm had never felt more alone than he did being home for Christmas break. He spent as much time as was physically possible holed up in his bedroom, not wanting to see or talk to anyone, especially not his mother. He hadn’t turned his phone on for three days, he had bitten his nails down to the nailbeds and he hardly had any appetite. The ache in his chest was constant and unyielding.

He lay in the dark most of the time, his curtains closed throughout the day and only sometimes opened at night to let the moonlight in. Besides that, he didn’t have much idea of how time was passing.

He did know that it was Christmas eve though. And it must be the morning because nobody had come to drag him out of his bedroom to join the celebrations. A cursory peek around the curtain confirmed that, as Wilhelm saw that the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet.

A deep breath settled the stone in his stomach, and he reached for his phone with a shaky hand.

When the device turned on it immediately started going crazy with notifications, and Wilhelm felt his heart rate increase with every buzz.

5 messages from August

Ignore.

10 messages from Mamma

Ignore.

2 missed calls from Felice

Wilhelm paused in swiping away the notifications. Felice had called him twice and sent him three messages. He clicked on the message notification, sitting back against the wall and holding in a breath without realising it.

Felice: Hey Wille, how are you feeling being home?

Felice: I just wanted to check in but I can’t get a hold of you, I hope you’re doing alright

Felice: You probably don’t want to talk but you can call or text me whenever you do

Wilhelm sighed. Of all the people that he thought that he could depend on, Felice was the only one that he still had. He swallowed the lump in his throat and called her back.

It rang for a while before she answered, and he’d almost decided to hang up the call when it stopped ringing.

“Wille, good morning.” Felice greeted, cheerful but clearly tired. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, merry Christmas Felice.” Wilhelm replied feebly. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about something?”

“Uhm, I- I don’t know, I just... I don’t know.” He stuttered, wrapping his free arm around himself.

“Okay, well, what are your plans for today?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t really been talking to anyone. What, uh, what are your plans?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. We’ll watch Kalle Anka's Jul and play some games before dinner, then we’ll open presents.” She explained. The tinny sound of her voice through the phone was actually quite calming.

“What about for the rest of the break?”

“Um, I’m going to New York to see Maddie for New Year, so that’ll be fun. And I’m going back to Bjärstad on Boxing Day to see Sara. I’m gonna stay there just for one night.”

“So you’ve been talking to Sara a lot then?” Wilhelm questioned, moving to bite at his almost non-existent nails.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Has she said anything about Simon? Do you know if he’s alright?” His words came out more rushed than he had intended. Clearly, he was more eager for some sort of information on Simon than he had thought.

“Um, she hasn’t said much but I think he’s pretty okay.” Felice replied, but it was followed by a small sigh that let Wilhelm know that there was more to the story. “Sara says that things have mostly gone back to normal, but Simon goes out a lot less and she’s had to make her Instagram private. I think they’ve had a few people show up at their house.”

Wilhelm swallowed hard, a feeling of guilt crawling under his skin. Simon’s Instagram account had been private ever since the video had been leaked, so it seemed that now people had found Sara’s too. They had attention on them that they had never signed up for, and Wilhelm knew that it was his fault and he felt terrible for that.

“Okay.” He replied shakily. There was a short silence before Felice spoke again.

“How are you, Wilhelm? Really?” She asked.

“Lonely.” He answered. “Listen, I have to go. I need to take a shower before someone comes demanding that I take part in the Christmas celebrations.”

“Alright well, call me back whenever, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Felice.”

“Bye, Wille. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Wilhelm ran a hand over his face, letting out a groan of frustration and sadness. Why couldn’t he just be a normal kid?

He stared down at his phone in his lap, gnawing at the nail of his right thumb in contemplation. With a shaking breath and trembling fingers, he picked it back up, opened his conversation with Simon and typed a short message. He dropped his phone in mild panic as soon as he hit send, and rubbed his hand over his chest as he took a deep, steadying breath.

+ + +

“Simon, wake up. Rosh and Ayub will be here soon.” Sara’s voice stirred Simon from his sleep and he rolled over to look at her. She was already dressed.

“What time is it?” He asked with a yawn.

“Nine o’clock. Get up and come help with breakfast.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting up.”

Sara rolled her eyes and left the room, and Simon reached out to his bedside table blindly until his hand landed on his phone. He squinted at the screen as he sat up, faltering when he saw the notification on the screen.

Wilhelm: Merry Christmas Simon

He felt his heart race as he stared at the screen, only snapping out of it when he heard Sara shouting at him from downstairs. He blinked, dropped his phone and set about getting dressed.

Every Christmas eve since they were ten, Simon, Sara, Rosh and Ayub would have breakfast together and then go for a long walk. It was tradition for them at this point, but Simon found himself unable to feel excited for it this year. It was all well and good to pretend like life was going on as normal, but it was hard not to feel uncomfortable when people stared at him everywhere he went.

Rosh and Ayub arrived just as he and Sara were finishing up making breakfast, and they exchanged Christmas well-wishes as they sat down to eat.

“You’re being real quiet over there, Simme. You alright?” Ayub asked after a while, and Simon realised that he’d been completely zoned out.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About Wilhelm?” Sara questioned. Simon pushed a bite of food into his mouth and shrugged.

“You have to move on, Simon.” Rosh said. “I know you care about him but he’s not worth all the trouble that he comes with.”

“I know. That’s why I ended things.” He replied. “It still sucks though.”

“You’ll get over him eventually.” Sara told him, putting a comforting hand on his for a few seconds before going back to her food. Simon smiled slightly.

He didn’t tell them about the text.

Despite all of that, he was in high spirits when they set out for their walk, happily joking and laughing with his friends, and they made it half an hour before he heard the first comment.

“That’s the guy from the sex tape.” Muttered a girl to her friend as they passed, and Simon felt the smile fall from his face.

“Just ignore them.” Sara told him, wrapping an arm around one of his. He nodded, but it had gotten to him. For the rest of their walk from that point, Simon felt like every person that they passed was looking at him and judging him.

They walked both Rosh and Ayub back to their houses before heading back to theirs just a bit past noon. They had almost gotten home when they were approached by a group of teenagers probably slightly younger than them.

“Are you the guy from that viral sex tape?” One of the boys asked unabashedly, the group coming right up in front of Simon and Sara and blocking their path.

“Uh, I don’t want to talk about that.” Simon replied stiffly, still trying to be polite.

“Oh my god, it is him!” A girl exclaimed.

“Was it actually the crown prince in the video?” Another chimed. Simon felt lightheaded.

“He already said that it wasn’t.” He deflected, trying to sidestep the group.

“Yeah, but there’s a lot of people that don’t actually believe him.” The girl laughed; actually laughed, as if this hadn’t been an earth shattering event for Simon.

“If it wasn’t Prince Wilhelm then who was it in the video?” A boy asked, and that was when Simon spotted the phone filming him and his stomach dropped.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with a bunch of strangers.” He scoffed in disbelief, shouldering his way past the group with Sara close behind him. “Please leave me alone.”

“You could just tell us if it was actually the prince or not.” One of them pressed, the group now following after Simon. “If it wasn’t him then you don’t have anything to hide.”

“Oh my god, did the royal family pay you off? Did they make you sign an NDA!?”

“Were you, like, boyfriends? Or was it just a hookup?”

Simon kept walking, keeping his head down and not answering any of the questions being hurled at him. He could sense that Sara was just as tense beside him. The group followed them for a full block before Simon finally lost his cool and came to a dead stop, turning to face them.

“I’m not going to answer your questions. The fact that you’re following me is not going to make me answer your questions. I’ve had my privacy majorly invaded once already and now you’re invading it again. I’m trying to enjoy Christmas with my sister and you’re chasing me with a camera, I’m sick of people harassing me.” He fumed, making sure to meet the eye of every one of them at some point. “Whatever you choose to believe is not my problem. It doesn’t matter whether you think that the crown prince is telling the truth or you choose to make up some type of theory, I deserve my privacy.”

He didn’t wait for any type of response before he turned around and walked away, thankful to find that they weren’t going to follow him anymore.

“You handled that well.” Sara said quietly once they had turned the next corner. Simon didn’t reply.

When they got home, he went straight upstairs without a word. He slammed his bedroom door shut and buried his face in his pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

By that same evening, the video was viral.

+ + +

I bet that girl was right and the royal family made him sign an NDA

If he didn’t want people to think it was the prince he would have just said that it wasn’t so either the prince was lying or this guy is seeking attention

He’s literally a kid why can’t people just leave him alone??

I don’t care if it was the prince in the tape or not, this guy is hot

The way he said that people are making up theories makes me think that it actually wasn’t the prince in the video

I feel bad for this guy, getting followed around like that must suck

Wilhelm scrolled through the captions and comments on the seemingly endless posts of the video of Simon, feeling like somebody had a vice grip on his heart.

The first time he saw the video had been right after Christmas Eve dinner. He’d had a full blown panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom for half an hour. When he came out, his mother had tried to talk to him about the politics of the situation and he had immediately retreated into his bedroom once again. He missed Erik desperately.

He hadn’t been able to sleep, he'd only gotten about three hours of broken, fitful sleep all night, and now he couldn’t pry himself away from his phone. He knew that it was bad for him, he knew that it was making him feel terrible, but he wanted to know what people were saying.

He had been hesitant to text Simon, especially since he hadn’t received a reply to the merry Christmas text that he had sent in the morning, but in the end he mustered the courage to reach out. He had asked how Simon was doing and apologised for getting him into this situation. He wasn’t surprised when no answer came.

Christmas day was proving to be probably the worst day of Christmas break for Wilhelm. His chest felt like it was bursting open and like it was an empty chasm at the same time. He didn’t eat breakfast or lunch, he didn’t respond to the knocks that came at his door. He felt like he was trapped in a glass box and someone was shaking it.

Wilhelm didn’t know how long he had been scrolling through multiple different social media platforms when his phone buzzed in his hand and an incoming call appeared on the screen. He faltered, sitting up and almost dropping his phone, when he saw that it was Simon. He ran a nervous hand through his hair as he raised the phone to his ear.

“Simon?” He croaked.

“Hi, Wilhelm.” The reply came through the phone, and Wilhelm felt his shoulders relax at the sound of Simon’s voice.

“Hi. H-how are you.” He fumbled, and Simon sighed on the other end.

“I’m okay, I guess. As okay as I can be after... well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”

“This wasn’t your fault, Wille.” Simon muttered. “I just wish things were different.”

“Why, um... why did you call?” Wilhelm asked. There was a short stretch of silence that rung in his ears before Simon answered.

“I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.” He confessed, and Wilhelm couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled at his lips. “Honestly, I was kind of surprised that you didn’t delete my number or something.”

“Why would I have done that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just thought that you weren’t supposed to have any ties with me since you said that it wasn’t you in the video.” Wilhelm winced at that.

“It's not like my contacts list is available to the public.” He replied, trying to keep his tone light. “I’m not gonna let that kind of thing get in my head again.”

“Is your mum mad?” Simon asked, and now it was Wilhelm’s turn to sigh.

“I’m not sure, I kind of shut myself in my room so that I wouldn’t have to deal with her.” He answered tiredly. “How is your family?”

“Uh, shaken. Sara’s off in her own world with her sketchbooks and mamá can’t go for more than an hour without checking on us both, but we’re handling it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

There was a silence again. Wilhelm ran his hand across his leg, back and forth in a soothing motion, not sure what he should say but not wanting the conversation to finish. In the end, Simon spoke first.

“Did you mean it, what you said before you left for the break?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, I did.” Wilhelm answered without hesitation. “I know it wasn’t a good time to say it, and you probably didn’t want to hear it, but I just had to say it out loud. At least once.”

Silence again. Wilhelm heard Simon sigh, and pursed his lips nervously.

“I miss you.” Simon said.

“I miss you too.” Wilhelm replied with a nervous yet relieved chuckle. “I miss you a lot.”

Another pause.

“Where do we go from here, Wille?” Simon whispered.

“I don’t know.” Wilhelm mumbled. “But I... I want to fix this. Or at least just try to fix it. You don’t deserve to be harassed like this, and it’s my fault and I feel terrible.”

“It’s not your fault.” Simon reassured with a sigh. “It was everything else. We still didn’t do anything wrong, and that includes you.”

“No, I did. I promised we would be in this together and I broke that promise.”

“I understand why you did it. And I’m not mad at you. Honestly, having thought about it, you probably made the best decision for my sake too. I mean, I’m getting harassed enough as it is already. I can’t imagine what it would be like if you had told the truth.”

“I’m still sorry anyway.” Wilhelm said softly, and Simon chuckled. “So, um, Felice told me she was visiting Bjärstad tomorrow.”

“Yeah, her and Sara have gotten close. It’s nice, you know, that Sara’s made friends. And Felice is cool.”

“Yeah, she’s great.”

There was silence again, and Wilhelm bit at his nails thinking that Simon was done with the conversation.

“Are you alright, Wille?” Simon asked after a while. “I know this is your first Christmas without Erik, and I guess things with your mum might be a little... well, I just hope you’re okay.”

Wilhelm swallowed. He could lie, pretend he was fine and wave away Simon’s concerns, but he knew the lie probably wouldn’t hold up. Or he could tell the truth and admit how painfully lonely he was, how much he hated being home because the palace felt empty without Erik and how much he longed to be with Simon with every fibre of his being.

“I’m coping.” He sighed, settling for a middle ground of vagueness. “It’s lonely here. The ceilings feel too high.”

“Have you had stuff to do?”

“No, not really. I haven’t really been in the mood for Christmas, but I guess none of us are particularly festive this year anyway.”

“Would you - I mean, if you would even be allowed to, but maybe if you could – would you want to come down here for a day?” Simon asked, and Wilhelm could just picture him fidgeting nervously as he stumbled over his words. The image brought a smile to his face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered softly. “I’ll try and convince my parents.”

+ + +

Going to Simon’s house had been an absolute no go with his parents. “Just too risky” his mother had said. However, with enough persistence, he managed to wear them down to a compromise.

That was how he ended up in a car on his way back to Hillerska the day after Boxing Day. While Simon’s house had been absolutely off the table, it would be easy enough to get back to Hillerska without being seen. The only people who were there during the break were security and the people who came to take care of the horses.

He had been worried at first that the inconvenience of it would make Simon not want to bother, but when he texted to ask if it was okay he had been met with a quick agreement.

A security guard unlocked the door for him when they arrived, sworn to secrecy of course, and he headed up to his room to wait. He didn’t realise he was biting his nails until there was a knock at the door and he was knocked out of his anxious thoughts.

The door opened slowly, and Wilhelm felt like all of the air was knocked out of his body when he saw Simon step inside, dressed in his beloved purple hoodie under the coat that he took off and draped over the back of a chair that was within reach. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence hung in the air.

“Hey.” Simon greeted finally, and Wilhelm took a deep breath as if he was just remembering how to breathe at all.

“Hey.” He echoed. “How are you?”

“Better.” Simon nodded. “Did you get into a fight with your parents?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Wilhelm muttered. “It’s fine though.”

Simon crossed the room and took a seat beside Wilhelm on the edge of the bed, a good few inches of space between them. It felt like miles.

“You look tired.” Simon commented.

“I’ve been having a hard time sleeping.” Wilhelm replied weakly, eyes downcast, fidgeting with his hands. “I get that way sometimes. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

He looked over to find Simon watching him, and he practically crumbled under his gaze. He took a very unsteady breath and shook his head.

“No, it sucks.” He mumbled. His hand drifted back up to his mouth and he gnawed on the nail of his thumb nervously.

“Wille, you’re bleeding.” Simon said, gently grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth. Wilhelm looked down at his thumb and saw a bit of blood pooling in the side of the nailbed, becoming aware of the taste of it on his tongue.

“Oh, I didn’t notice.”

“How much have you been biting your nails?” Simon questioned, pulling Wilhelm’s hand towards him to get a look at them. Every nail was jagged and uneven, bitten down to stubs. The skin around them had been bitten at too.

“I don’t know, I do it without realising.” Wilhelm shrugged. “Probably a lot.” He resisted the urge to curl his fingers around Simon’s hand and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You shouldn’t have to bottle everything in, you’re destroying yourself.” Simon murmured.

“I don’t have anyone to talk to.” Wilhelm’s voice broke halfway through his sentence, a single tear managing to fight its way from his eye. “I used to be able to talk to Erik about at least some of it but now he’s gone and I don’t have anyone, and sometimes it feels like the ground is falling out from under me and I just don’t know what to do.”

He didn’t notice that he was hyperventilating until Simon pulled him into his arms. Wilhelm’s chest was tight, rising and falling rapidly against Simon’s body. Simon's arms were wrapped around him tightly, and Wilhelm was suddenly overwhelmed with how much he had been craving a hug as his hands grasped at the back of Simon’s hoodie and he hid his face in the crook of Simon’s neck.

Wilhelm had always been told not to cry. Ever since he was a child, whenever he began to cry he was told to stop. The seed had planted itself in him when he was very young, but the fear of letting himself cry didn’t truly grow until he once saw an article in a tabloid. He was barely eleven and he had fallen and hurt himself at an event. He had hardly cried, just a few tears and red cheeks, but the tabloid had had plenty to say about it. He hadn’t let himself properly cry since, except for when Erik died. Even then, he had waited until he was completely alone before he let his weakness show. But now, with Simon, he felt an overwhelming need to let his tears fall.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into Simon’s shoulder. He could feel the tears coming out of his eyes but they weren’t falling down his face, instead absorbing into the fabric of Simon’s hoodie.

“It’s okay.” Simon soothed, a hand moving up to stroke over the Wilhelm’s hair.

“I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a prince.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to feel normal. Just for once.” Wilhelm said through his tears. “You made me feel normal.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, sympathetic. He loosened his hold on Wilhelm and leaned back, sliding the hand that was on the back of Wilhelm’s head forward to rest against his cheek.

“You made me feel normal too.” He replied softly. “At school I was a social outcast because I’m not rich, and at home I have to take care of my mom and Sara. When I was with you, I didn’t feel like I had to take care of anyone or watch where I was stepping. Well, except that one night.” Wilhelm huffed a slight laugh at the comment, lifting a hand to wipe the tears off of his cheeks. “I’ve never seen you cry before.” Simon commented.

“I’m not supposed to.” Wilhelm replied with an awkward chuckle, his head tipping forward in embarrassment. Simon sighed through his nose and lightly touched his forehead to Wilhelm’s.

“You have to cry sometimes, Wille. Everyone cries.”

“I’m not supposed to be everyone.”

“Okay, but sometimes you need to stop worrying about what you’re supposed to be.” Simon told him. “I know you know that.”

Wilhelm took a deep breath. This close to Simon’s face, he could feel his breathing too. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn’t know if that would be okay. He nodded slightly, covering Simon’s hand on his cheek with his own.

“Yeah.” He breathed.

When Simon leaned forward and connected their lips Wilhelm responded automatically, though it took his brain a few seconds to catch up. Once his brain did catch up, his hand took hold of the back of Simon’s neck and pulled him impossibly closer, holding onto this moment like it was his last. Maybe it would be the last time he got to kiss Simon; he couldn’t know. He hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Thanks for coming to see me.” Simon said when they broke apart.

“Thanks for wanting to see me at all.” Wilhelm replied. “I really missed you.”

Simon hummed, a faint smile playing at his lips. He watched Wilhelm for a few moments before kicking off his shoes.

“Come here.” He said, shuffling over the bed towards the wall. Wilhelm followed suit and allowed himself to be guided down to a lying position, Simon’s chest against his back and arm around his waist. “You need to sleep.”

“It’s the middle of the day.” Wilhelm protested, weak as the protest may have been.

“People have naps all the time, and you know that you need it.” Simon said firmly, adjusting the pillow under his head with his free arm and finding Wilhelm's hand to hold in the other. “It doesn’t have to be for long, okay?”

“Okay.” Wilhelm nodded, feeling suddenly very relaxed. He took a deep breath settling into the comfort and warmth of Simon’s body around his as his eyes fell shut. “This is nice.” He mumbled after a while.

“Yeah.” Simon agreed softly. “Go to sleep, Wille.”

It wasn’t long until he felt Wilhelm’s breathing change, signifying that he had fallen asleep. He smiled, fondly but with an edge of sadness to it, and pressed a light kiss to Wilhelm’s shoulder before closing his own eyes. They would deal with the rest of the world when they woke up.

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stardust-kenobi · 3 years

Text

My Purpose

Din Djarin/Mando x Reader

Summary: You're captured by the Empire, held for questioning concerning the location of the child. Under Moff Gideon's supervision, you endure harsh punishment. You knew that Din would never leave you behind. The moment you heard blasters firing rapidly outside your holding cell, you knew he'd come back for you.

Warnings: violence, mild torture to reader (no SA), mention of blood, death, reader being "helpless", helmetless Din, fluff

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: I mean, don't we all fantasize about being rescued by a bounty hunter as a helpless damsel in distress? Just me? well, enjoy anyways. This honestly reads like a Mandalorian episode. @ jon favreau, hire me pls. reader is referred to as “her” once or twice but otherwise can be read as gender neutral.

gif credit: @isetthetone

"I won't talk" You spat at the men towering over you. You were firm, and steady in your composure. More troopers, higher ranking than the predecessors, continued in the attempt to break you. The Empire wanted the child, and you'd never let them get close. The vents blasted near frozen air onto your shoulders from above, insulated in your holding cell that was encased with metal and designed for discomfort.

Without another helpless word, and the press of a little red button, bolts of electricity coursed throughout your already exhausted body, delivered by the small device forcibly wrapped around your head. The pain was excruciating, but you were beginning to feel numb with every passing second. This was the 5th...no, 6th time...so far, that this pain has been inflicted on you. It benefitted neither party in the room. You offered no evidence of weakness aside from your obvious pain. They had to know that you weren't any close to revealing any useful information.

"If you won't talk, Moff Gideon will be taking matters into his own hands. Give us the location of the kid, or suffer the consequences" Their voices were muffled in a similar way that Din's helmet muffled his voice. It reminded you of him in an oddly comforting way. You missed him terribly already. Without even seeing the true look in Din's eyes when they captured you only seconds before you were able to make it to the Razor Crest, you knew his heart made the most difficult decision he's ever had to make. You knew it was you or the child, and neither of us would ever let them get their hands on him.

Although you kept your composure in the presence of your captors, you were scared. Petrified, even. Din swore to himself many months ago to protect you in exchange for you assisting him in raising the child. You knew little of childcare, but Din knew you could both figure it out together. After all, you did owe him big time for saving your life when you first met. And here we were, right back where it all started...you needed to be saved again. You hoped he'd gotten the child miles away from here by now. You'd lost track of time but it felt like hours, maybe even half a day at this point.

Your silence was the only response to the further questions.

"Suit yourself" One of the troopers scoffed, and swiftly exited with his partner. The door slid open and closed just barely long enough for them to leave. You were then trapped, cold, and alone again. As much as you wanted to be relieved from your situation, you cared significantly more for the safety of the child and your armored protector.

The minutes dragged and your chest felt heavy as the panic began to sink in. This was it for you. No way they’d let you leave after being of no use to them. Your death was inevitable, and your racing thoughts began to slow as you came to peace with that.

You heard the faint hissing of a door on the other side of your cell, signifying someone's entry. Then suddenly, your cell door slid open, revealing a towering figure. Although you'd never seen the late Darth Vader, the way you imagined him was reflected in this man.

The jet-black shine of his armor was enough to startle you in his presence. But his expression...the menacing grin framed the picture of a despicable man.

Your face was blank. Showing any fear was not an option right now. Although, you were subtly trembling in your seat.

"You know that you've made a big mistake, right?" He said, approaching you slowly, using his height to tower over you while you were seated on a steel bench.

Silence.

"Your beloved bounty hunter isn't coming back for you," Moff Gideon said softly, getting uncomfortably close to your face. "Why not just comply with our requests so we can move along with the search? hm?"

"You'll never find them" You hissed at him.

"Oh, actually I will. That you can count on" He laughed. The insulting tone made you sick. "However, if you tell us where they are, your torture will come to an end and we can get this whole thing over with. What do you say?"

"Never."

"Your persistence is admiring, truly it is. But why waste your time? He doesn't care about you. He's a Mandalorian. They only care about their creed. Everything else is just...a commodity."

You shook your head in denial. That wasn't true.

"You're wrong."

His gloved hand firmly grabbed your chin, pulling your face up toward him. You cringed and winced under his touch.

“Where are they?” He persistently shouted in your face. You jolted your head backward in attempt to put distance between the two of you. With your response of more silence, you were met with a sharp and painful blow to the side of your face. You turned to look back at him, trying to collect yourself from the pain. His fist was still tight and ready to throw another punch.

The second punch was worse, it radiated pain through your entire skull and caused your eyes to go blurry for a moment. The cuts already open on your cheek were split open with damage you were taking. You felt the blood begin to drip down your face. Any additional infliction would be hell, but you’d take any pain necessary to keep everything you loved safe.

His other hand brought to your attention a small red button. The same button the stormtroopers used to electrocute you before. You whimpered in anticipation and tears involuntarily formed in your eyes.

A deranged smile spread across his face. Your fear just fueled his power. And just before he could inflict any additional pain on you, he seemed to have received transmission into his ear.

His brows furrowed. His eyes then locked with yours.

"Repeat, commander" a look of concern was on his face. Disbelief, even.

"Don't let him step foot on my ship" Moff Gideon seethed.

Although you were uninformed to the other side of the conversation, there was no question. You grinned ear to ear. He came back for you. Of course he did.

"Well, change of plans. The Mandalorian dies today" Moff Gideon snickered.

"We'll see about that" You whispered.

The ship shook and vibrated under your feet. As if a ship had docked...or crashed, maybe. Moff Gideon snapped his attention behind him, as if he could see what was happening through the secured doors.

Another transmission came through, one you still weren't able to hear.

"If he doesn't have the child, then he's no use to me. Kill him."

Your heart sank at the mere thought of losing him. But it wouldn't happen. Gideon's troopers were no match.

Moff Gideon kept his close watch over you while he hid like a coward in your cell with you. His hand rested atop his blaster in preparation for what he knew was to come. The cruiser you were aboard had a crew of probably 50 people. If they all served to be as awful at combat as other troopers that you’d seen Din take down, you’d be rescued in no time.

You watched Gideon’s body language grow more and more nervous and fidgety as the commotion grew on the other side of the door. Blasters and the sharp clinking of metal filled the narrow space of the ships walls. That muffled sound was moving closer. As the situation became less favorable for Gideon, it became more favorable for you. That fact alone put a smile on your face.

Then suddenly…three loud bangs penetrated the walls. It sounded as though someone was trying to break through the first door. But that wasn’t regular armor hitting the metal…it was beskar. Gideon trembled. He jolted when the banging arrived at your cell door. He was displeased to hear you laugh at his reaction, which fueled his anger.

He yanked your arm and threw you in front of him as a human shield, pulling his arm around your chest and igniting the dark saber, holding it only centimeters from your throat. The blade vibrated loudly, threatening to take your life in one motion. What a fucking coward. Can’t even fight without using you as bait.

It took less time for Din to break through the second door. Within seconds, the door snapped and broke open, revealing your protector wrapped in his armor as usual. What was unusual, though, was the splattered blood across his chest plate. You couldn’t even imagine what he’d just been through to get to you.

“Step another foot closer and she dies” Moff Gideon insisted.

“Let her go” his soothing voice broke through his helmet, calming your nerves, even with death being only a movement away. “You’re outnumbered, Moff Gideon”

“I would disagree. It seems it’s one on one”

He pulled the saber closer to your neck. You whimpered and squinted your eyes shut. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you opened them back up. You see Din’s fist in a ball, revealing his frustration and anger.

“Based on your fighting skills I’d say it’s more like two on one, wouldn’t you think?” Din snapped back at him.

“Alright. Let’s fight then, Mandalorian” Gideon said with a smirk on his face. He threw you down carelessly back onto the bench. You cried out in pain as your face hit in the cold seat.

Both men circled one another with their weapon of choice in the ready position. The saber was still ignited, and Din had his staff of beskar. No lightsaber could ever cut through beskar, not even the dark saber. Din swung first, striking Gideon’s side armor. He retaliated, only to be met with the staff that rejected the saber’s power.

There were flashes of blinding light back and forth, both men having a fair chance against the other. You watched in terrifying anticipation, fearful of Din’s safety. You believed in him, but to watch him fight scared you. After a few minutes, Din finally had Gideon pinned against the floor, with the beskar staff pointed right below his chin. The saber was thrown from his hands, and out of his reach.

This was it, you thought. We are getting out of here.

But not yet. Gideon made a move so swiftly you couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. The staff was knocked from Din’s grip, and he was thrown backward onto the floor. Gideon somehow maneuvered himself on top of him now, with the staff in his control.

No. Please no.

He could’ve killed him in one motion, but instead, Gideon pushed the staff under the grip of Din’s helmet and forcefully pulled it from his head, slicing his chin in the process. You gasped and looked away, to be respectful of his creed. You’d never seen him without his helmet. All you caught glimpse of was the deep brown color of his hair.

You only listened now, as you were unable to watch how this would end.

“You have nothing now” Gideon started, breathing heavy through his words. “Your creed has been broken. You have no purpose” he laughed, pleased with himself for to bring shame to his opponent. "Give it up, Din Djarin."

A familiar voice broke the air that you’d ever only heard through the distortion of a helmet. You gasped softly.

“She is my purpose. The child is my purpose. I won’t let you take that away from me” Din said. It sounded like the voice was directed toward you rather than Gideon based on your positioning. You melted at his words.

Not another word was spoken before the clanging of metal filled the room again, you couldn’t tell what was happening, which made you all the more terrified. Gideon groaned in pain, it sounded as if he was on the ground now.

“You’ll never take the child. And you’ll never see the light of day again. All because you took my girl” Din breathed deep through his words.

You heard the dark saber ignite again.

The vibration from the saber indicated a swift movement.

A loud thud against the ground.

Silence.

You trembled with your arms covering your head in a fetal position on the bench. You knew it had to be Din who was still standing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

“Y/N” his warm voice graced your ears only inches from behind you. You audibly sobbed. Knowing immediately you were safe. He was still helmet-less, you could tell. You turned over to face him, but kept your eyes closed so you wouldn’t see him.

The electrocution device wrapped around your head was removed gently. You'd somehow forgotten it was even there. His hands then wrapped around yours as you moved to sit in an upright position.

“Look at me” he pleased softly

“But your hel-” you started

“Look at me” he insisted, squeezing your hands gently.

Your eyelids folded open slowly. You weren’t afraid, but you were hesitant. He was crouched in front of you. What you saw as your gaze met his, took your breath away. His eyes were brown, a match to his hair you caught glimpse of before. It was Din. You were finally seeing the man you loved for what he really looked like. He was so beautiful. All the words you wanted to say failed to leave your mouth as you scanned his face over and over again. His expression was riddled with worry and concern.

“Did he do this to you?” He referred to the gash above your cheek, and the other visible bruising down your body. You were suddenly aware of how deeply he cared for you.

On the verge of tears and still remaining speechless, you nodded your head. “I’m okay”

“He’ll never take you from me or lay a hand on you again” your eyes travelled over to Gideon’s lifeless body on the floor. Din gently pulled your face back to look at him so you wouldn’t be more traumatized than you already were.

“I’m here” he reassured you. A smile formed on his lips. Maker…that smile. You were seeing him smile for the first time. Sweat and patches of blood scattered Din's face. You couldn't imagine the hell he went through to get to you.

“But Din, your helmet” you remained confused. You knew that meeting other Mandalorian recently may have changed his outlook but you never thought he’d break the creed intentionally. He could’ve put it back on. But he didn’t.

“It’s okay... I wanted to see you with my own eyes. You are my purpose now, y/n”

He said it again. The same sentiment that surprised you before. Your heart was so full in that moment.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner" He remorsefully spoke. "Its my job to protect you, and I almost failed you. It'll never happen again"

You shake your head. He didn't need to apologize. He was here now and that's all that mattered.

“I’ve never been happier to see someone’s face in my entire life” you say, continuing to admire his features. You bring your hand to cup the side of his face. He closed his eyes gently as a result of your caress. Your skin against his was so mesmerizing...so new to you...so new to him. You halted your gaze this time at his lips and then looked back to his eyes. He was looking at your lips too.

Neither of you had to say another word. An unspoken desire between the two of you was about to be fulfilled. His finger guided your chin closer to him.

The silence was so loud. The lack of troopers and personnel on the ship was haunting, yet somehow incredibly peaceful. The beating of your heart was beginning to fill that silence in your ears. It beat rapidly in response to your near death experience in addition to being this close to him. Being completely alone and intimate with him.

You leaned in to him with his guidance. As your lips just barely brushed against his, you took a sharp breath in. The skin on his lips was supple and warm. As you fully pressed your mouth against his, you fell apart into his kiss. Your whole body was encased in warmth and a feeling of security from this closeness with him. His hand rested against the back of your neck and pulled you closer into the kiss, if that was even possible. Even though you were truly alone, this kiss alone made it feel like you and him were the only two people left in the whole galaxy.

You never wanted to pull away from him. You both waited so long for this moment.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that" He whispered, as the kiss finally broke.

"I do, Din. Trust me I do" You giggled. You were captivated by the feeling that this kiss had left with you.

He pulled his head back to take another look at you.

"Let's get you home" He said, before standing to his feet.

Even weak from his battle wounds, he scooped you up into his arms, and carried you back to the Razor Crest.

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian fluff #my work #stardust-kenobi #star wars #star wars fanfiction #mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #star wars fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x reader

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. “I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #fanfic #lady dimitrescu #mother miranda #tw torture #to bargain for immortality

102 notes · View notes

rafesgfs · 4 years

Text

love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans masterlist #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #steve rogers #captain america

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we-dragons · 3 years

Text

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 8 Damian x reader

The school is shut down for a week ironically because of an attack by The Joker and Two-Face, that Robin and his team took down. The teachers sent out a notice with homework attached and told us to stay inside. Nightmare came back somewhere in the morning I couldn't tell the time because I apparently fell asleep along with Boy Wonder before the end of season 1 of The Highlander. I gently placed him down on the couch, gotten dressed, and made some breakfast, I only had eggs so I made some scrambled and put them on a plate for him and me. Nightmare got the last of the bacon. I put a plate over Robins while I ate mine sitting at the small table in the kitchen going over my homework. Sadly I finished my homework before my eggs and they have gone cold. I silently morn my eggs eating the cold carcass. "You stare any harder at that screen and you might break it." I jump, my head shoots upwards and I sigh, but then my eyes drop on my cat. My jaw drops the furball is purring in the arms of a masked stranger who is petting his head. Robin was petting my cat holding him like a baby and the demon is purring. Robin still had his eyes, and limbs not even a bite mark was seen on his skin.

"You traitor, you barely know him." I playful scold the feline, he meows nuzzling his face in Robin's chest.

"Your monster seems friendly."

"Nightmare looks like he's been introduced to catnip."

"Just a few scratches here and there." He smirks taking a seat next to me."Thank you for breakfast."

"Mhm." I turn back to the screen, "Will you be going back today Robin?"

"I might."

"Hmm." I finish the last problem for today closing the device, "Well I have to go to work, your welcome to stay if you want." I smooth out my clothes tossing one last look at the melting ball of fur. I quirk an eyebrow but move out to the door. I stop Halfway through the doorway and look back putting on my meanest face. "If you break a single window in my home I will find where ever you are and break you. Bye Nightmare, love you, I'll be back in a few hours."

_____________________________________________________________

"Nightmare! I'm back!" my keys skitter across the floor but no black fur is seen. He's still in the arms of Robin though it's not Robin, Green eyes. My stomach sinks and my mouth goes dry. "Damian?" His is just as much shock as me, he puts down Nightmare and rushes to me the door slams behind me. And I'm being dragged then forced to sit, his hands grip my shoulders. "Your early, why did you arrive early, you not supposed to be back for another half hour." I hardly heard him, I scold myself now realizing the obvious. Why else would Nightmare feel comfortable around him he had been here before multiple times noticed how I treated Damian and that's why he was a purring mess in his arms. I said be nice to him when he was over not Robin, but of course, they smell the same Nightmare associated with both people. I should have spotted it sooner, the voice, the height, the tone of his speech. Dear God, I can mom telling how oblivious, like she did when she won Clue. It was right there, he asked the right question and baited me for answers. I don't know why this is a shock to me. Now that I think of it I have to stop myself from laughing

"What the hell," my voice quivers. "Damian, Damian Wayne. You help Gotham." I start snickering, pulling my hand over my face. I throw my head back laughing then fall over to the side. "Nightmare you knew didn't you! Haha, that's why you were you were melting like butter."

"Your laughing!"

"Did you assume I wouldn't!" I wheeze, my breath nearly coming out to form words. "I can imagine you fighting, but saving people that's something else entirely."

"Do you think so little of me?" He sounds disappointed.

"I don't mean it to offend you but what else can I say. I didn't expect this." I sit up, clearing my throat and looking him dead in the eye. "Can I just call you Damian now, or do I still have to you different names."

"Why aren't you more surprised?"I Smile sadly.

"I thought you would have read up on me, do you know who killed my parents that day at home." He stiffens, he opens his mouth but continues. "My Father's sister, my aunt, killed them both during dinner. All because my mother wouldn't let her see those journals you asked about. After that it many people took off their masks."

"That's all it took?"

"What should it take, she killed her own brother because she didn't get confidential knowledge. To be honest, I don't really care anymore."

"You need professional help." I shrug.

"Probably, but getting sessions is expensive and I don't enjoy answering "and how are you feeling?" questions. I had enough of that already from everyone else."

"Where's your brother, Emil?" I feel myself frown.

"He's with someone I trust, I can't tell you who, sorry."

"The file says you died, you also made a miraculous recovery, recovery from what?"

"I prefer not to answer that question, It's rather personal." I don't want to explain that either, I know the doctor was shocked to see me come back. They had to call the professor to have him take me and my brother. After that this entire fiasco.

"You know I'll find out either way."

"Listen, I don't know how I made it, I was tortured by my she who will not be named and left for dead. I prayed for anyone and everyone who would hear me, someone did, the police found me and I was rushed to the hospital. I decided to take a nap, and I woke up to the sound of Emil crying. He cried, even more, when I woke up, screaming even, the good doctor nearly fainted. I was plugged into wires of all sorts, and my uncle was holding a plug, I assume he pulled, tackled me. My body lit up in pain and felt like I was run over, the next I am separated from my family and rushed into a place where they check on me every three months. At least I got to choose the place, they pay for the school, and I cover everything else." I give in, it feels nice to tell someone, something even if it's not the whole truth. But it seems to shut him up. "Please don't go looking for Emil, they haven't caught my aunt yet. I don't know if she's looking for them next, I would prefer not to stand over another grave knowing she got them too." I stare at him gauging his reaction, his face is still stone, unmoving in the uncomfortable silence. I pick up Nightmare, who has been rubbing against my leg for a bit, and scratch his head as he wants.

"Fine, I won't push further but I have terms."

"Really?" What would he need terms for?

"1, you don't reveal my identity to anyone. 2, you will not acknowledge that you know my family’s identities. 3, I come whenever I like as Robin or as Damian. 4, I add terms whenever I please."

"Why would I agree to any of that? I'm the one who has your identity." He smiles.

"Because I will tell Batman this information, and he doesn't talk as kindly to people hiding something. You obviously still are, but for now, I'll let it slide I'm sure by now you've decided to watch the news, so you know what he does." I gulp, I did see his more recent victim and he looked traumatized.

"Alright fine, but I binge so if you fall asleep tough luck, I'm not going back."

"Fine," he reaches back and pulls out his mask which he puts back on, walking out to the kitchen. "I back in a bit, pull out your couch bed while I'm gone. I will be staying here a while." I get up after him.

"Hey, that offer is for when I thought you were some homeless bums who fights crime, gets money from villain's wallets. You have a perfectly good bed at home!" He turns back one foot on the railing and a grappling hook in hand. "Term 6, I will stay as long as I like." he jumps off like before, not giving me a chance to speak.

"Bastard! I need my alone time!" He's gone I don't even know if he heard me. I grumble pulling out the spare sheets and blankets to set up the bed. "He better be paying rent, smug rich kid."

"Meow." Nightmare looks over at the window Robin left of.

"Yes, he's coming back."

"Meow"

"No, I'm not going tell him, not until I have to."

"Merrow"

"Shut up." I kick the side of the couch holding the two large cushions that lay on it, the bed springs out and makes a satisfying thud on the floor. "Go and see if the data has finished downloading, then put it back in the box I'll make you something in a how you feel about tuna our downstairs grandparents gave me a can."

_____________________________________________________________

The sheets are made, the cat is fed and now I am going over how I was going to cover for another person. How much would he eat, can he survive on pastries, ramen, and eggs. How long was he staying, would his family come asking about him seeing as he was here before. At both times, when he broke my window, and when they came for coffee.

"Hey, open the door." The voice is cold but still recognizable. I get up slowly taking my time getting there along with opening the door. He hurries in, dressed in some normal-ish clothes that still look expensive, but he still dressed like he came out of a photo shoot. He not only has a suitcase but some grocery bags, I frown at those. He seems to notice because he forgets his suitcase and charges into the kitchen. "Hey!"

"Y/N I am not eating ramen and eggs for god knows how long. I will cook a decent meal and you will have something healthy."

"How did you know I only had eggs and ramen?"

"I went through your fridge," He places a bag of tomatoes in the bottom drawer where I see green onions and various other veggies.

"I make stir-fry once a month, you have bought enough greens and reds to make that for two weeks. I don't even have rice."

"You don't like it when people spend money on you, do you?"

"I don't need other people's money," He opens his mouth, but I stop him raising a finger cutting him off. "And before you mention Molly, she remains the exception. Not that me telling her not to stops her."

"And why is that." He stops putting the food in the fridge.

"Because I've been friends with her longer," I look back at his bags and frown. "How long do you plan on staying again."

"For as long as I please."

"Won't they come looking for you? Your family I mean, the Detective stops by almost every day."

"Grayson won't be a problem, I left them a trail that leads to several other places." He stuffs the last of the food in the fridge, getting up and looking out the balcony window. "Should take a long while." I can hear the smugness in his voice.

"Your happy you tricked your brothers aren't you." He turns around forcing himself to frown but the corners of his lips twitch.

"Ho, you're a bastard Wayne."

"You're really gonna curse me?"

"You didn't tell me I couldn't Damian." I grab my computer and open Hulu putting on Star Trek; Next-generation where I left off. "Hope you enjoy space adventure, because I'm not starting this over its seven seasons and 4 movies. I'm halfway through season 3, if you want context just ask." I glance up signaling that I am waiting for a response, he leans on the wall in front of my kitchen. I can't read his face, but his face of neutral displeasure wasn't much better. "So, your done feeling good about yourself, or is there something else you need."

"It's been something I've been wondering for a while now, those iridescent pieces you fed me."

"Part of my mother's work." Not a complete lie,

"Was that what those missing journals about?"

"No." More of a lie but not wrong. He groans anyway, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Man, you really like to cut in deep and waste time. Just come here and watch some Star Trek with me I need someone else to groan in pain about Counselor Troy's and Will Riker's on and off slow burn romance." Begrudgingly he walks over plopping down next to me.

"Your tastes in tv are odd."

"You have no idea, my tastes in something go everywhere, after this and Highlander I have several old cartoons next. First, I might have to gather what you know about the Quack pack, Goof troop, Ducktales, and all that pizazz. Though I have a feeling that you would like Darkwing Duck more, or it could possibly be too relatable." He gives me a look.

"How could I relate to a duck?"

"We are a long way from that now, at the moment we must bear witness to Captain Picard and his adventures commanding the USS Enterprise."

"Has anyone told you how unbelievably weird you are?"

"Sir, you have entered my life for what looks to be the long run. You will experience the kind of weirdness only Molly has ever seen. But now that you are basically my roommate you might see more." I pat his shoulder. "So, buckle up, because this is now you've got a seat on this roller-coaster, and you can't get off till the car reaches a complete stop. Now can we please get back to the show I want to see some cosmic action?"

_____________________________________________________________

"Was that a statement or a question?"

"He can achieve the perception of feeling with a chip that goes into his hyper-advanced brain, lets his brother take it but can't make his own."

"I lent you my computer to catch up to where I left off for one night and that's what you're hung upon."

"Yes," his eyes look serious while he shoves some oatmeal in his mouth. "You are the one who can't stand the slow burn."

"Touche."

Before we got to the last season, Damian had asked he could see the rest of the show before the finally. I didn't expect that he would binge because it was a weekend, he even made extensive notes on character weakness. He still went out on patrol every night but came back with no one tailing him. That's what he says at least. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and just lacking energy altogether.

"While I'm at work please go to sleep, you look like you fought an energy vampire and lost."

"I wouldn’t have lost to a vampire, they’re not that hard to kill.”

“But they drink blood they need to get close; energy vampires are more psychic they don’t even have to be a real monster.” He stops eating/

“How so?”

“They could be emotionally, physically, and mentally draining people. You know like Deity Skimmer, the girl in our science class. You can’t kill the energy-sucking vibes she gives off, can you.” He snorts behind his hand.” I mean it, even creatures of the night need sleep.” I drop my dishes off in the sink. I walk off to the door putting on my boots, I hear the chair slide and I feel his judging eyes digging holes in the back of my skull.

“Once again your conditions said nothing about teasing you, suck it up.” He scoffs. “I’ll be back around 5, don’t break any more windows while I’m gone.” I close the door before I hear any remarks once more about the incident. Though I laugh to myself, I straighten out my outfit and head down to the wonderful smells of the coffee shop. I walk slowly down the stairs looking out to the crowd that had been seated in the lounge. My managers were out by the couches talking to one of the regulars. Pull me behind the counter and relieve my coworker Meg, she looks exhausted and excuses herself. She takes what I assume is her coffee and puts away her apron and rushes out the door. I finish out what she didn’t clean and wait for anyone to come up to the counter. *Ring* though it is loud I hear the bell for the door ring.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment, I need to clean the nozzle here.”

“That’s fine, I can wait.” I flinch but catch myself, so it looks like I flicked something. I turn around with the best smile I can pull off. The sleep-deprived brother of Damian, peers at me from under his hair a frown tugging on his face.

“Oh hey! You came here with detective Grayson last time. Is there anything you would like?”

“Coffee.”

“Any particular kind?”

“Anything that will keep me from sleeping on this counter.” He knocks on the surface twice.

“I Can recommend our D&D potion bottle, it’s a personal favorite of the owners.”

“Why not, how much?” He fumbles around for his pockets, I stop him.

“How about, I make get it for you, and then you pay.” He brings his hands back on the counter and nods.

“I will only be a few minutes, please make yourself comfortable.” I pull out the ingredients for our powerful concoction, the pho fried ice cream, a large potion bottle with a straw, and 20-sided dice. I place the potion bottle in front of him and the ice cream but hand him the dice. He stares at the shiny plastic unmoving.

“I would roll that.” He does what I say and lands on a nine. “Well, sir after this one you can either have another potion or chose two desserts of any kind from our display or menu.” He takes a sip from the straw rather slow; his eyes perk up a bit.

“How Much did you say this was?”

“Oh! That will be $9.23?” He pulls out the exact amount, and I put it away in the register, placing it in the compartment marked D&D.

“And I would like another one of these to go.”

“Sure, would you like it now or before you go?”

“Well now should be nice, I’m leaving in just a bit.” I pull out a cup that is relatively the same size as the potion bottle. I go to give him his cup and notice that he finished the bottle and ice cream. Confusion hits me, but I don’t stare too long to turn to clean the mess. “Have you seen Damian at all?” And there it was.

“No, not since the Gala? Did something happen?”

“There was a…disagreement so he ran out, but if you see him,” He handed me a piece of paper with a string of numbers and an email. “Tell me. That is my number and email.” He does not say anymore and walks out the door, the bell signaling his departure.

_____________________________________________________________

When I got back, I told Damian what happened, he isn’t pleased and is currently pacing the floor.

“My guess is that he knows.” I sigh over my tea and stare sadly at the replaced window.

“No doubt.”

“You know I was rather hoping not to be having another visit from the Batman. What will happen when they find out that I know about the caped crusader thing.”

“He’ll either force into secrecy, turn you into a child crusader, or confine you to the manor.”

“So in other words no privacy.”

“None.”

“As lovely as that would be you told me this was temporary, so why can’t you go back?”

“At the Gala I was supposed to keep you entertained at the table so that we could trap you into to talking about those journals.” I knew it.

“So, you lied to me.” I look at him, faking shock and betrayal.

“It was for the sake of the investigation; I didn’t think that I would end up-.” He examines my expression and face palms. “What’s wrong with you.”

“I like to call it “I laugh in the face of danger” Syndrome, in a moment of despair I crave comedy.”

“You're worse than Grayson.”

“I like him, so I’ll let this one slide.” I sip the warm liquid feeling soothed at the pumpkin spice. “What are you going to do now?” Nightmare jumps on the table noticing my concern and waiting for his answer from me. He walks to the corner where he put his bag then went to the closet pulling out my suitcase. He then grabs his outfit Robin outfit from the coat rack and his other materials. “Get packed, we’re leaving. I’ll grab Nightmare’s things gab whatever you need. And I mean need, don’t pick it up unless it’s necessary.”

“What? I can’t just leave, what about my job? School?!” He Pulls out my backpack and puts some food in it. “Damian!”

“Just trust me, I’ll take care of it! I don’t want you tangled up in my family’s nonsense.” He looks at me something odd swirling in his eyes. “Please.”

“Fine,” I grab my suitcase and pack my box and my compiece which hasn’t gotten back to me on its progress. I throw a few sets of clothes. I open the box to make sure the journals, the scales, and everything else, then I hide it under the clothing and my laptop in the front pocket. I thank myself for making sure to get a suitcase that has a double use as a backpack. In the living room, Damian is all packed the bag is strapped across his chest and he’s holding Nightmare.

“Let’s go.” He hands me Nightmare and pulls me to the balcony. He pulls out and belts with a ring pultruded out on one side swiftly put it around me connecting the loop to his belt. “Hold on tight, and don’t let go till I tell you.” I Sling an arm around him and grip on to Nightmare, he doesn’t hesitate and shoots across the balcony with his grappling gun. I screw my eyes shut. And wait to stop, my heart beats wildly in my chest Nightmare begins purring maybe in hopes to soothe me. I feel something wrong, but it would mean I was away from the Crows. I’m running again, even if it’s not me who chose this it still feels wrong. Because in the direction he’s going it seems that we were leaving Gotham. And for some reason, I feel like it would be a while before I returned.

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orionares · 3 years

Text

Whumptober: Day 7- Helplessness

Law and Order: SVU/ Law and Order: OC

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

"William Lewis, yeah. He was that psycho who took your old partner, right?"

Guilt is eating him alive.

Logically, the seasoned detective knows that the helplessness he feels due to a nine year old event is the simple fact that he had panicked and took his family to Italy while Olivia fought alone against a monster.

The brown liquid on the counter above him tempts him to make himself numb and even forget the confusion from an old CI he had crossed paths with an hour earlier.

"I'd heard that you'd dropped off the face of the Earth, man. How the hell'd you miss that?"

He'd been in a villa, pretending to be a happy husband with Kathy.

Elliot's eyes take in the RV's scattered contents on the floor- crumpled papers, his tattered sweater and then finally on his cellphone, still open to the first photo in Olivia's case file.

The image of her battered, bruised, bloody- it will never leave him.

Elliot leans forward and pulls the small device back to him. He picks up and unlocks the phone and once more chokes back a sob on the image of Olivia in a hospital bed. The detective swipes to the next image and in seconds, Elliot bolts to dry heave into the trash next to the counter.

The picture is of a cigarette burn on her skin.

"Shit," Elliot curses and he spits before sliding back into a sitting position. He pinches his nose and curses again, " Shit."

He's tempted to get as numb as possible before forcing himself to look through the rest of the file. It should be easy as he's looked through thousands of case files.

But this file will break him as it contains all of the details that could answer or diminish the dozens of questions and scenarios swirling around his mind.

If he'd been in the city instead of prolonging the end of a marriage, Olivia could have been rescued earlier.

They could have prevented Lewis from doing any harm.

He could have sat outside of her apartment to see her blink her lights, let her cope in her own way and-

"Shit," Elliot curses for the third time.

The fact that they will always be possibilities leaves him helpless. Tears forming quickly in his eyes begin to fall freely down his cheek. Everything begins to pull him down until the final question that he's most scared pops up.

Had that asshole?

Did he- did that piece of shit-

Oh God.

"Liv?"

Elliot can hear the sleepiness in her voice as she answers his frantic call an hour later. Tears are still running down his cheek even as he sighs in relief at hearing her voice.

"Elliot, it's two in the morning," Olivia grumbles. She yawns and mumbles, "Are you ok?"

"I'm, " he knows that his voice is tearful, giving up that he isn't remotely ok. "I'm not drugged or drunk if that's what you're thinking. Kids are ok and the case is still going.".

"Okay," Olivia replies cautiously.

"One of my CI's told me about what happened to you," Elliot sniffles. "That someone kidnapped you and did God knows what else and I wasn't here. You could have died and I never would have-'' His body begins to shake from his sobs. "I'm so sorry for everything. I'm so sorry for not being the man and the partner I should have been-"

"But-"

"I love you with everything I have and should have given you," He sobs, wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead. There's no guarantee , he knows this in his heart, that there's no chance of him ever being able to say what he needs to say like this again. "I don't deserve you-"

"Stop." Olivia's tone stops him dead mid meltdown with the same forcefulness he had seen during her face off with the FBI agent. She's a Captain now, a leader having to deal with a guilty man drowning in past mistakes. "Elliot. Where are you?"

"I-" For the briefest moment, Elliot wants to end the conversation and run- she shouldn't have to come find me with a child. He sure as hell doesn't want her to meet Eddie Ashes and the man's living arrangement. "But-"

"Elliot, you can either tell me upfront or I can wake TARU and find you myself." In the following beat, Elliot can hear shuffling on her end of the line and he knows he's screwed. "Where are you, El?"

El, The nickname feels like a twist of the knife in his chest. "I'm in- Liv, you shouldn't-"

"I'll find you," Olivia cuts in again. Her tone screams-You push me away again, we are done.. "Give me an hour."

----------

A loud knock on the door jolts him out of his dazed stupor.

Elliot sighs at the sound, hoping like hell that Albi and the crew are waiting outside the door. The love of his life shouldn’t be standing outside a decrepit RV in the middle of the night to tend to his emotional wounds. He glances down to his cellphone to see that she’s managed to find him in 45 minutes.

“Eddddieee, le’ me in,” comes from behind the door. Olivia’s voice is recognizable but the drawl and use of his undercover name is unexpected. Elliot grunts as he pulls himself onto his feet and stumbles to the door. He opens the door and finds a figure standing in a sweater and baseball cap. Olivia’s auburn hair peeks out of hood just enough for him to see that it’s truly her.

Out in the open and at risk because of him.

Olivia doesn’t wait for an invitation and slides in through the open area in the doorway. He flinches as she continues to play the part of the late night visitor needing Eddie by running her hands underneath his chin as she passes. She waits until Elliot closes the door behind her before asking, “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” Elliot mumbles. He walks to the bed and plops down on the edge. “You didn’t need to come.”

“Bullshit, Elliot. You don’t call me,” Olivia argues as she pulls down her hood, “and then do the yo-yo thing. I love you, Stay away from me, here’s the letter, guess what- Kathy wrote it. Enough!”

He drops his shoulders in defeat. “You're right.”

Olivia marches up to him and snaps, “Enough, Elliot! I’m tired of this- cards out on the table! What am I to you?”

“Everything.” Elliot meets her eyes and notes her defensiveness, her readiness to push him away. He’s at the end of the line, tired and broken. “Like I said before, I love you. In the parallel universe, in the other life where I wasn’t scared, I’d hope to make you happy and keep you safe. We would have gone to Italy and Greece and wherever else you'd want us to go. "

Olivia's face softens at the confession. He knows she's eying him down in the barely lit RV with clues into a possible inebriation. She walks up to him slowly and stops right at his knees. As if on instinct and a need for an anchor, he rests his forehead against her stomach . "You broke my heart," she whispers.

Elliot wraps his arms around her waist, melting into her warmth. "I know, " the detective whimpers.

"Elliot," Olivia calls down to him, " I need you to promise me three things before we say anything further."

He raises his head to look up to her and swallows hard in nervous anticipation.

“One- be smart. You are a single father- do not do anything to get yourself killed and come home. “

The unspoken words hover in the air between them. If you die before we finally figure things out, I will resurrect you and then shoot you twice.

“Two- don’t look into Lewis until I’m ready to talk.” Olivia bites her lip and adds, “He didn’t rape me. He did other things but..don’t go down that rabbit hole until you start to try and heal.”

Even after easing his biggest fear, he’s still hesitant to stay away from the case file.“I can do that.”

“And three, I need you to give me time. I need time to know that you won’t leave and that I can trust you again. I need time before we…..”Olivia looks away to try and compose herself, “ I need time. Promise?”

He'll never tell her but those three promises will be the anchor to keep him afloat during his undercover stint. "I promise."

#whumptober2021 #law and order svu #law and order oc #bensler #olivia benson #elliot stabler #no.7 #helplessness

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

Text

💔Rotten Love💔 //Twisted Wonderland Yandere Idia Shroud X Yandere Eliza X Reader// Part 1

GIF made by the amazing @flowerofthemoonworld. Okay, so this story is really going to have a Persephone x Reader x Hades vibe to it. If we can get this to 160 likes before July 12 than I’ll release part 2. For now, my goal is to make it a 4 part story with a bonus 5th fluff chapter. Also for this story reader will be GENDER NEUTRAL.

WARNING: Gore, Angst

💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙

There was always a cold, nostalgic air in the Ignihyde dormitory, a sort of homey sensation that made Eliza's heart skip a beat. Sure the dorm was quiet and secluded, unlike the ghost kingdom, there was barely anyone to talk to. Most may have even described it as "lonesome" and "boring". But to princess Eliza who had waited more than five hundred years to be with her prince charming, it was unadulterated, homespun bliss. Of course, there was still something missing, a tiny puzzle piece that refused to fit in with the rest of its kind, a stubborn little piece it was, yet all too important to paint the picture of her perfect life. That mulish fragment came in the form of her newly wedded husband, Idia Shroud.

"Idia~"

The "young" princess sang as she skipped over to where her "husband" was sitting, his posture crooked, like that of a scrunched up cat's. His long slender fingers where typing rapidly on that bizarre rectangular device that he all too attached to. Way too attached to, for Eliza's liking.

Eliza nuzzled her visage into the crook of the bleached-skinned boy's neck, taking in his smokey, ash-like sent. Her icy colored arms wafted over his shoulders, enclosing them his a tight embrace. Her fingers dangled over where his heart was, feeling tiny fast-paced pulses that sent a pleased blush to her face. "Idia let's go for a walk near that river. Please, my love! You haven't left this room since the reception!"

The taller male barely turned to look at her, preferring to instead to keep his eyes locked on his glowing blue screen. "Still busy Eliza" his cold dead voice was always so sharp and monotone whenever he spoke to her. It felt like someone was reaching into her rib cage and squeezing her decaying heart. Her voice cracked into a thousand tiny shards, as she tried to form a comprehensible answer. He might as well have told her to die again and rot in the deepest parts of hell. He doesn't love me....he'll never love me. The relation was like a heavy chronic toxic gas levitating overhead. Easy to overlook but still there, always there. Idia didn't move, if Eliza's arms weren't wrapped around his shoulders feeling every breath he took, she might have mistaken him for a statue. No, not a statue, she thought, some sort of sculpture of an ancient Greek God. A divine being set in stone resting in an altar, waiting for reparations and benedictions. 'I'd gladly pray at your feet every day. I'd sacrifice everything I had just for you to smile that charming smile at me'. The ghost thought to herself.

For an endless minute, the darkroom fell into a thick, suffocating silence. Neither Eliza nor Idia moved both too scared of breaking some invisible glass wall they had put up around them. However, no amount of serenity could dispose of the awkwardness, and annoyance Idia was beginning to feel. "You know" the lord of the dead began "maybe you should talk to the principle about join the school full time. It would give you more to do than breathing over my shoulder" despite Idia's tone harboring no malice, Eliza still flinched in shock. Her body going rigid, stiffening as if she was going into Rigor Mortis again.

HE DOESN'T WANT YOU HERE!

The voice in her head screamed,

HE HATES YOU!

Louder...

WHY CANT YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE

"Please stop" she whispered

YOU DON’T DESERVE YOUR PRINCE!

"If that's what you want" she finally replied in a broken voice.

"I'm... I'm only saying it for your sake," he muttered in a coaxing tone.

Deep down a delusional part of her wanted to scream that he was only saying all those harsh things for her own well-being. But she was still lucid enough to not believe those fallacies, imaginary words...Eliza perceived that her beloved prince Idia saw her as nothing more than a nuisance. One that he was far too eager to get rid of.

She couldn't bear the conversation any farther. Painfully slowly she peeled her arms off from around her so-called lover. In that taunting minute, Eliza swore she could feel billions upon billions of sharp needles piercing every piece of her dead body. She lingered in place staring at Idia's glowing, blazing hair. She didn't want to leave, she wanted to spend every second of her dead life with him! Touching him, kissing him, loving him! But he wouldn't love her! Why didn't he love her!! Without a customary goodbye or any form of acknowledgment, Eliza flew to the door. Swinging it open just a crack, wishing to slam it so hard that the whole underworld dorm would feel it. But alas she was still royalty and there was a politeness beaten into her every action. In the end after much debating, she closed the damn door quieter than a mouse. With a broken heart and eyes full of tears, princess Eliza began to hover up onto the surface of the school grounds.

WHY DOESN'T THAT SELFISH BASTARD LOVE ME!

A simple blaring thought that reverberated through Eliza's nonexistent skull as she marched through the glowing green halls of Night Raven College. Unlike Ignihyde, the rest of the school still felt rather alien and terrifying to the girl. She'd only been in the cafeteria for a short amount of time. Only to finish up her official marriage to Idia. After the marriage -and much persuasion from his friend with grey hair and glasses- Idia had carried Eliza in the traditional manner a groom must carry a bride, to the hall of mirrors and straight to Ignyhde. Neither of them had left Idia's room since then.

It was a rather short memory but one that always placed a smile on Eliza's face. Rather than remembering the halls, Eliza had been all too bewitched by Idia's shy golden gaze, his bloody red face, and his kissable thin blue lips. Such a darling memory that she would always cherish within her rotten heart.

But as the minutes ticked away and Eliza passed hallway after hallway all identical to one another, she soon began to wish that she'd paid more attention to the whereabouts of the school's rooms and offices. The headmaster's office seemed to be missing from this endless maze. Behind every corner was the same tiled floor, candles lit by a mystical green light and windows so large they put the countless classroom doors to shame. Every few minutes a crowd of students would pass by, disappearing behind another wall withing second. No one noticed her, which was rather odd considering she was the only female in an all-boys school, her purple dress and feminine curves were proof enough of that. "I guess this is the result of being a ghost, wandering the land of the living" She whispered hopelessly to herself. "You're invisible when you're me..."

The eighth turn that Eliza took brought her to a small cluster of peculiar students. Some donning ears and tails like those of wild beasts, while the other had odd features resembling Ortho's limps. Metallic and reflective. They were laughing at something, attentions enclosed within their small groups. A measly thought flew into Eliza's head, why not speak up? Raise your voice and ask where she could locate the headmaster of this complex establishment.

"Excuse me."

“....”

Silence

None of the boys turned to her, they just continued with there chatter. Eliza opened her mouth to speak once more when she -rather unwillingly- picked up stray words from their conversation.

"It's not fair!" A tall lanky one with striped ears and tail whined

"Yeah! How come that useless shut-in gets to get married to a cute girl !" the second one was even taller, with thick furry grey ears that reminded Eliza of a wolf.

"Look man I don't know what Idia has that makes him so damn lucky! He's a useless wimp..." A Bold statement made by the one with metallic features.

Eliza was sure they continued bashing Idia but the phantom pain of blood coursing through her ears droned them out. How dare such hooligans speak ill of her beloved husband! Her fingers flexed in a robotic-like movement, stretching open than closing once more. Around her tiny flame-like spirits began to materialize, cute and cheery with big eyes and smiling mouths...until they noticed the distress of their mistress. the tiny things took a look around, grasping the situation from the loud words of the boys as well as Eliza's grim expression. Slowly the little flames began to merge with one another. Fusing into a large ax with a burning end. The weapon floated down to her hand, positioning itself smugly between her ghostly digits.

Eliza's eyes locked with the backs of the boys, she didn't know how this would work, could the ax could even harm the living? It may just phase through them as if nothing had happened....or it may price through there flesh and bones, tearing them in two. Hosting the ax up over her shoulder with both hands and taking a shaky step forward, Eliza lunged towards the first boy. In a swift flick of her wrist, the blade of the ax was pushing through the Ignihyde student's back. Splitting ceaselessly at the skin and urging past muscles until it reached the creamy colored bones. Eliza didn't stop there, her arms still pushing forward trying to get the heavy ax to break those pesky osseins. He had to pay for what he said! No one was permitted to speak ill of her one true love! A satisfying crack filled the air followed by a choir of screams. Only when the ax had finally resurfaced on the other side, covered in plasma and the remnants of organs, did Eliza turned her attention to the other two students. There eyes where enormous staring at her in disgust and fear...and something else. Something that -although it revolted her to her very core- she wished Idia would look at her with that same look in his eyes. A look of want, a look of need, pure lust, yet the welcoming sort ONLY if it was coming from the person you adored so much.

The blue-haired ghost didn't move, her semi existent body felt overworked. Everything hurt! Or at least she thought what she was feeling was the ghost equivalent to human pain. "Why.." her voice glitched at every syllable, like a broken cassette player. The two boys didn't answer instead taking shall strides backward. "WHY DID YOU SAY SUCH AWFUL THINGS ABOUT HIM!" in a split second, anger over ran Eliza's boy once more, dragging her and the ax forward until the blade came in contact with one of the animal eared men's neck. Slicing it so it flung backward, crashing onto the ground with loud "thud" then rolling around in its own gore. The last man stand, the one with monochrome ears pushed his palms forward, a pathetic attempt of shielding himself from her wrath. "W-we..we d-d-did...didn't-t mean...mean any..offense...honest!" His voice creaked as tears gushed from the corners of his eyes. "You're...you're just so...so...pretty...beautiful even...and...and...Shroud well...we...well, he's a loser who w-w-wouldn't kno--" his words were left half-finished, as Eiza's ax severed through him diagonally.

Her heart was pounding much too fast, that it was beginning to make her feel sick. Her legs finally gave up, sending her crashing onto the blood coated floor. Her bare knees dug into the red liquidy substance, finding an odd comfort in the warm human ichor. Eliza didn't know what to do, or even where to go. If she went back to Idia like this he would surely use it against her, Ortho was too young to be introduced to such a carnage...and she didn't know anyone else! "I'm all so very doomed" she sobbed as transparent tears trailed down her eyes.

"Hey" A distant voice spoke up. "What's wrong with her?" another voice, this one more high pitch and raspy. Eliza tore her face from her hands looking up at a group of three strangers and a cat...no, not strangers, she recognized the orange and blacked haired boy. They both had tried to crash her wedding. But the other person was new, they had a gentle look in their eyes, a welcoming stare that the princess longed for. "Hey ghost bride," The orange-haired boy spoke up, "need some help with your mess?" Eliza nodded meekly. Her body still limp and voice still too frail to speak. The last person, the one that had unexpectedly piqued Eliza's interest extended a hand towards her. And with only a scrap of hesitation, Eliza gripped it.

"Come on, we'll help you out!"

💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙 👻💙

Tags: @yandere-romanticaa @ghostiebabey @lovee-infected @mermaid-painter @firemelody4 also tagging @twstpasta and @delusional-obsessions cause I know they're huge Eliza fans.

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