#i keep waking up sad and weepy still but i just tell everyone i know abt what he did and they tell me im better than that and i feel better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damienthepious · 3 years

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lalalala cuddles!!!

slowly a sunlit dream

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, (like... INCREDIBLY mild), Cuddling & Snuggling, Hugs, Communication, (we love to see it!!!!), Sleepy Cuddles

Summary: It isn't always easy, asking to be held.

Notes: @skunkoon did this to me with Art. they draw good good Arum and good good Hugs. i'm still weepy about it!!! also sometimes the person in the throuple most likely to comfort everyone else is the one who needs a bit of comfort. hell yeah. Title from the song Sunkissed, by khai dreams!

"Arum?"

Arum startles, just enough that Rilla can catch the edge of it, his frill fluttering at his neck as the muscles in his arms tense, and then his frame and his expression both soften as he recognizes her in the doorway.

"Amaryllis," he greets, his voice steady though she can still see the surprise in his expression. "I thought you and Damien were long asleep, by now." He pauses. "I did not manage to wake you, somehow, did I?"

Rilla shakes her head, hazarding a few steps into his workshop. "No, nothing like that."

"So," he says slowly, "you are wandering the Keep in the middle of the night... why, precisely?"

Rilla scowls at that, though a little bubble of affection pops behind her ribs at his dry, lazy tone.

"Not wandering," she protests, stepping close enough that she can lean against the worktable next to Arum. "If I wanted to wander I would have gone down to the greenhouse. Plenty of space down there."

"So what are you doing, then?" he drawls, projecting patience over his obvious curiosity.

Rilla opens her mouth to answer, but-

It's a little embarrassing, isn't it? Or- she wouldn't be embarrassed if this were Damien, but- Arum doesn't always understand, instinctively-

His brow slowly climbs as she fails to answer, and Rilla isn't as good with words as Damien is, so she just-

She tips her body sideways into Arum's, knocking her forehead into his shoulder with a sigh, and Arum startles with a small whirring exhale at the contact.

His scales are cool and textured, soothing against her skin, and she sighs again as she nuzzles her brow into his shoulder.

"Ah- Amaryllis? Are you-"

"It's- stupid," she mutters. "This is stupid, I just- I didn't want to wake Damien, and-"

"What- Amaryllis. Clearly something is wrong, and I refuse to believe that it is stupid. Now, are you going to tell me, or do you expect me to guess?" He raises an eyebrow as she scowls, and then he tilts his head. "It is enough unlike you to hesitate that I cannot imagine that I would ever be able to pluck the correct answer from the air."

Rilla swallows, and then she lifts her head just enough to meet his eyes.

"Just... is it alright if I ask... will you just- hold me?"

Arum blinks, and then his brow furrows as his eyes flick between her own, checking- to see if she's joking, maybe. He turns, though, angling his body towards her, and he lifts a pair of hands hesitantly, his palms brushing her elbows on either side, skating up her biceps.

"Hold you?" he tries, sounding uncertain. "If- I suppose if you-"

Rilla shoves her face into his chest, folding her body against Arum's much larger frame, and the monster exhales a hiss of surprise. He stands perfectly still for a breath, and then he slips his hands further around her, one pair wrapping around her lower back, another hand curled around her shoulder, and the fourth he slips up the back of her neck, cupping her head with his claws careful in her hair.

"Amaryllis..."

Rilla squeezes her eyes more tightly closed, her forehead pressing against Arum's collarbone. "Just- is this okay?" she mumbles against his scales, and she feels Arum's breath catch as he scrapes his claws carefully up and down her back.

"Okay," he echoes, doing very little to hide how baffled he sounds. "Why- why would it not be? Are you- Amaryllis. Are you alright?"

"Just- tired," she says, and she knows she sounds unconvincing even as she speaks. "Just wanted- wanted this."

Pressed to his chest with all of his arms around her, Arum's body nearly envelops her, her head tucked beneath his chin, his scales smooth and gently warm against her cheek and her hands, his heart beating sturdy in her ear, his tail tickling at her ankle before it curls in a protective loop around her calves. His palm cradles the base of her skull, careful like he's holding blown glass, his other arm wraps sturdy and close around her shoulder, his lower hands lace fingers together over the small of her back, holding her, holding her-

She needed-

"Amaryllis," he says, even more quietly, and then he rocks his body just barely, almost imperceptibly, back and forth, swaying with her as if to some silent music. "If you are tired... should you not, perhaps, be sleeping?"

"Couldn't," she mumbles, and then she shakes her head against his chest. "Sorry. I wouldn't... I wouldn't bother you with this if-"

"You are not bothering me, Amaryllis," Arum insists, the arms around her lower back squeezing tighter. "I- I would be lying if I said that I understand precisely what... why you would- would seek me out, but-"

"I like the way you hold me," she says, and Arum's body goes entirely still for half a heartbeat before he makes a small, helpless sort of noise above her and his frame softens. His grip does not tighten, then, but he seems to ease into the embrace, softening around her like a cat settling to rest.

"How convenient for me, then," he rasps, his voice even rougher than normal as he whispers above her head. "Considering that I very, very much enjoy holding you."

He sways lightly, silent for a long moment as she just- presses against his chest, secure and sheltered, trying not to feel like she's imposing, because-

"M'not really good at this part," she admits, eventually, her lips brushing his scales and her eyes still closed, and Arum hums lightly, his throat rumbling against the top of her head.

"Experience suggests that you are quite good at nearly everything you try, Amaryllis," he says mildly, and after she breathes a dubious laugh he continues, "but... you believe you are not good at what, precisely?"

She swallows, blinking, too close to Arum for her eyes to really focus on the glossy green in front of her, and the next words... don't really come. She jerks her shoulder very slightly after a moment, the weakest of shrugs, and Arum hums again.

"Amaryllis... forgive me for asking... this is not..." he pauses, massages his thumbs gently into her lower back, and then he huffs and tries again. "This is not due to something that I have unknowingly done wrong in our-"

"No," she says, quick and firm. "No, this isn't- I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be obnoxious, I know you're still new at this-" he growls at that, automatic and entirely without heat, "and I'm not trying to make things harder. It's just- bad day, I guess. Bunch of difficult patients, and then Damien was so exhausted when he got home and then- I couldn't sleep but I didn't want to bother the Keep to bring me back to the hut to at least get some work done, especially because I knew Damien would be- be sad at me if I didn't at least try to sleep, and I just- I just wanted- but I didn't want to wake him up, and I thought- if you were still awake, maybe..."

Arum gives a low, rattling hiss above her head. Not shushing her, she doesn't think, just- a rhythmic soothing sound that she can feel in his chest as he sways with her.

"I..." he hesitates for a moment. "That sounds... difficult," he says, stiff and uncertain, but genuine. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well." She nuzzles her face into his chest, squeezing her eyes closed again. "You're making it better."

"Am I?" he akss, skeptical, and then he hisses again when Rilla places a kiss over his heart. "Amaryllis-"

"I'm not good at at being the one who needs- who asks for- for- for help or comfort or whatever," she mutters, rushing through the last few words, as if maybe that might keep Arum from noticing them.

He makes a noise, tilting his head enough that he can press his snout into her hair, a nuzzling sort of kiss.

"That- well, I should hardly think that-"

He pauses for a long moment, just... holding her, swaying, drawing his fingertips in soothing patterns across her skin, holding her.

"I... I love you," he whispers eventually, precious like a secret. "I want to be... I want to hold you. I want you to... to come to me, when you wish to be held. I'm- I am glad that you did, that you feel that you can. It is an honor, to be trusted so. One that I hardly deserve, I think."

Rilla scowls, poking Arum in the ribs, and the lizard gusts a startled laugh.

"I know that I am... unpracticed," he continues, his voice a little less heavy. "But certainly you know that I... you know how dearly I wish for you to be... happy. Content, and held, and..."

"Love you too," she says, and then she kisses the scales over his heart again.

Arum exhales, a pleased rumble, and then he tightens his grip, squeezing her in his arms.

"Are you... do you feel... better, then?" he asks, after a long moment.

Rilla nods against his chest, sighing. "Felt better as soon as you started hugging me," she mumbles.

"Hm, how curious," he says, the warmth in his tone belying the false dryness of his words. "So did I."

She laughs, light and breathy, and then she sighs and leans back enough that she can properly meet Arum's eyes again. "Alright, okay. I think I've bothered you long enough."

"Inaccurate," the monster grumbles, his tail squeezing at her ankle. "If anything... well, loathe as I am to admit it, I should have given up on the evening and joined you both in bed quite a while ago, anyway. You've given me a firm and well-needed nudge in that direction."

Rilla smiles. "Ooh, a rarity! The monster admits his limits-"

"A flaw we share, little doctor," he growls, and Rilla grins and pats her hands on his chest in a placating gesture. "Now..."

He shifts slightly, but then he pauses.

"Hm?"

"Ah," Arum murmurs, and then the arm curled around her upper back shifts, his palm caressing her shoulder as he slips subtly closer towards her again. "I believe I've discovered an obstacle."

Rilla blinks, then tries to angle her head so she can look up at his face a little better. There's an edge of playfulness in his eyes, familiar and just as comforting as his touch. "Wh... what. What is it?"

"I believe that you may have, unfortunately, entirely destroyed your likelihood of returning to bed, Amaryllis."

"Oh?" Rilla raises a skeptical eyebrow, trying to level Arum with as much of an unimpressed look as she can manage.

"You asked me to hold you," he purrs, two palms flexing against her back as he slips his other hand from her hair to caress her cheek. "I am afraid, Amaryllis, that I will be rather hard pressed to let you go anytime soon. I think we may be stuck."

Rilla laughs, leaning up at the gentle request of his fingertips, pressing a humming kiss to his smirking lips.

"Alright. An obstacle, admittedly, but one that I think we can work through. I'm fairly certain that we can get to bed without you needing to let me go. Don't you think?"

Arum laughs against her lips, then kisses her again. "An excellent point, my brilliant little doctor," he says, and Arum lifts her into his arms, easy and safe and warm.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #gimme..... commentes

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pbandjesse · 4 years

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Its my last day of my 20s!! It only feels a little weird. But I was weepy today. I dont think it was related. I think I was just. Having a hard day. Emotional. But it was still mostly good.

I slept alright. Getting up was hard but James came in at 830 and said he was going to bike to the store and would be back around 9. So it gave me a little time frame to wake myself up and get dressed.

So I did that. But I was down. Just felt sad. I got washed and dressed. I was happy with my hair. I love my new sweater. It was the first time Ive worn it and its really great. Very soft. But I was still sad.

I have some aches and pains. I need to make an appointment to see the dentist soon. And I have a weird wound in the back of my knee. I tried to feel alright but it was hard.

James got back and made me a bagel. I played a little animal crossing. And he worked at his desk. SweetP really likes the desk. It lets him be tall.

Eventually though James asked if I was ready to go out and I wasnt feeling great. But I wanted to feel better. So off we went.

First we went down to the harbor. We were squish hunting and I wanted to hit up 4 places. CVS, Marshal's, Five Below, and Target. Because they were each in a set of two spots. So we wouldnt have to keep moving the car and parking.

CVS was a bust. They didnt have any of their easter stuff out and they didnt have any valentines ones left. We walked the aisles just in case one was misplaced but no dice. So across the street we went to Marshal's.

Better luck there! They had a bunch of the goofy ones with the hair. An owl. Some unicorns. But I ended up getting a cuddler. I really would like the dragon one but this pegasis spoke to me. Its a very good hug. And it was on clearance. The cashier liked him too. Mostly because he was purple but I think they look like Guy Feiari.

We went to the car and headed out to the next places. A car almost hit us when we were leaving but James kept us safe. We were just a little shaken up.

We went to Five Below next. At first I was like. Aw man no luck. They just had a little unicorn. But I did get a mini brand surprise pack. James was trying really hard to cheer me up but I know I was radiating sadness.

We checked out and as we were leaving James noticed that we didnt see that they had all the new easter squishes by the door!

I was super excited. The cashier said that they just put them out but people had been calling for a week. I didnt want all of them. I got 5. I was super excited about the cow and the octopus but the goat and pig were really cute in person. James liked the carrot a lot but I want to make the bottom more pointy so they will need work.

We still went to look at target. This target had a lot more then the one yesterday. I ended up getting a very large dragon. I almost went for the bunny loaf but I am excited about my dragon.

We picked up some tissues and floss too. Because we are adults. Adults who were hunting for stuffed animals. And then we headed home.

My mood was up for a little there but it dropped back down again. I was sad. It sucked.

We went home and James would make up an at home picnic. It was to wet outside to try to do a proper one. But he made the food look all nice. He even made deviled eggs and green salad. It was a really nice meal. And we talked about my sads and he tried to understand what he could do to help. But I was just. Going through it.

I did get another gift today. He got a surprise box of beanie babies from an antique store in Hampden. And they were almost all beanie baby birthday bears. So later in the day I would hang up a shelf for them in the studio. I think they are very cute. It was funny though because there was no february but thats okay. I like the clown ones a lot. I think they are all very cute.

I had work to do though. After lunch I worked on the Capybara for Gaby. I finished him up fast enough that James was able to take him to Gaby when he went to take a bike ride. And that was nice. And it gave me a little time to be alone and chill with my own feelings.

I worked on my last drawing for the 30 day project. And then I went to play animal crossing. I made a rose garden and a carnival area. I want to work on the carnival more but it was still fun.

James got back and we talked about pancake dinner. He went to go bake in the kitchen and eventually the sun was looking really golden in the living room so I wanted to take pictures but we were having trouble with the camera and so we missed the golden light. But we still got a couple pictures.

But then I was just. So sad. I got overheated and I just needed to go lay down. went and laid in the studio and watched videos for a while. Eventually James came and laid with me. Until around 6 when he went to go make up pancakes for dinner.

We had a nice dinner. And then it was time for him to go play a game with his friends. I stayed and talked for a bit. Showed off my new squishes. And my new piercing. I actually rattled my piercing a little today and the top one hurts a little. But I can tell how well its healing so Im not to worried.

I have been hanging out for the last hour. I made outfits for the week. Played around with my renfaire costume, coming up with more accessories to make it more believable. Its been nice.

And now I am just tired. I am ready to take a shower and get some rest.

Its my birthday tomorrow! I hope its just. A good day. James had to work. But I hope to like. Read. Maybe take a drive. Just have a nice day. I hope you all have a good day too.

Goodnight everyone. Take care of yourselves!!

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tardis-sapphics · 4 years

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24! ☀️

thank u!

24: ‘my child’

this one is perhaps a bit long but i do love this a lot. hope you enjoy! also, would recommend this absolutely gorgeous song to accompany your reading!

The end of war is a feeling as much as it is a moment, Yaz is discovering. It is a shared feeling, something so innate to a people, it is impossible to feel on your own. When the final order is given, the last papers are signed, and the last casualty breathes their final breath, there is all at once, and slowly, a burgeoning emotion.

It grows and grows. A new dawn: first comes the birds, the heralders of the new way; then the light creeps in. It will illuminate everything, even the things best thought of in shadow. But it is inevitable, and it is graceful.

When it illuminates the worst, it does not so do out of glee. It does so as an imploring—an attempt to make new a bitterly fought moment.

They all feel it, thrumming through their veins. This call of grace, this call to begin again.

In the battlefield, the four of them had held hands. They had witnessed the passing of war, and watched a new world begin.

Their tent, adjacent to the Commander General for their now-defunct role as brokers of peace, is gradually being illuminated in the same dawn light as every tent on this battlefield. And like the others, the material is not thick enough to blot it out. It creeps, but it is sure.

Yaz watches the slow brightening, the way one follows the curious journey of a single insect, focusing on every detail she can observe. For two days, her head has been full of nothing but war: the clashes, the screams, the consequences. There is something liberating about this—the chance for small things to be given equal eight once more.

The orange of the tent is lightening, from a dull and shade to something rich, vibrant. She feels her own vibrancy in it.

To her left, Ryan and Graham snoring away in their sleeping bags. The Doctor, she can hear, is in the front section, possibly fiddling with something or other. In moments of quiet, she usually is.

And Yaz is content to let the morning stay that way, to find richness in the slow, but the morning has other plans.

Outside, on the battlefield, she hears a child crying.

They must be crying loudly for the sound to reach them inside the tent. Many tents, in fact, with the way they have been clustered together. But these are soldiers, generals—not families. This kid must be lost. Her heart pangs for them.

Five minutes later, and the child’s cries have turned into weepy calls for their father. They sound young, so young, and no one is going to help.

What is this world, this new, hopefully world, if no one will help a child?

Yaz crawls through to the front section to find her shoes—and sees the Doctor doing the same. Quick fingers tie up her boots laces, and Yaz gets to work on her own.

When she looks up, finished, the Doctor is smiling at her. Two days’ worth of mud and hard work are showing on her clothes, her coat torn at the edges. But she looks as bright as ever. ‘The others?’ she wonders, her voice still a whisper.

‘Asleep,’ Yaz confirms. She nods at the Doctor’s boots. ‘You gonna look for the kid too?’

‘Of course.’ Something flashes in her eyes: sadness, but not just. ‘This is no place for a child.’

The kid is difficult to spot amongst the sea of orange; the sides of the tents dance in the whipping wind, as do their flags, and each movement is distracting. So, too, are the sentries who patrol the thin pathways between the rows of tents; most of them are in an early-morning daze, rendered almost useless by the cessation of war. There would be a perfect haze of suspension, a potent need to wait—if it were not for the child.

‘Papo!’ the child calls. Yaz grabs the Doctor’s arm. They are much closer now.

In the midst of war’s debris, they find her. Clad in what Yaz has to assume are pyjamas, she trails a blanket in the churned up mud, turning white cotton to mucky brown. Her light blue eyes are bright with tears like little crystals, her face puffy from crying, she staggers between the tents, searching.

Sniffing, unharmed, and innocent. At the sight of her, Yaz’s heart aches.

They walk towards her slowly, aware of her eyes on them. The entire time, doleful but curious. Yaz smiles as she bends down in front of her, waving a quick hello. The Doctor grins at her, but she is busy scanning the immediate area for any disturbances.

‘Heya,’ Yaz starts. ‘I’m Yaz. And this is my—’ she clears her throat ‘—this is the Doctor. It’s lovely to meet you! What’s your name?’

The girl pouts at her, assessing her. Eventually, she answers. ‘Vay.’

‘I love your name; it’s beautiful,’ Yaz smiles, and Vay brightens, just a little. ‘You look a little lost. Are you trying to find your Papo?’

It upsets Vay, who sniffles again. ‘Moma said I could see him today but I dunno where he is.’

Yaz nods. ‘Would you like us to help you, Vay? We know some important people who can find your Papo for you. Only, it’s very early in the morning and no one else is awake yet. D’you want to come with us?’

Vay takes a moment to consider this, but eventually she does accept, reaching for Yaz’s hand. Yaz breathes a sigh of relief.

Vay warms to the two of them quickly. She likes the way the Doctor talks, quick and fast and silly. She appreciates Yaz picking her up and keeping her close. Yaz is warm and kind and always asks if Vay is okay with what they’re doing.

They try their hardest to make Vay feel safe, on this battlefield with countless lives lost around them.

Back at the tent, Yaz introduces their new companion to Graham and Ryan, who are barely awake. Ryan is still groggy and moody, but Graham pushes away his exhaustion to play granddad.

The Doctor pulls Yaz to one side. ‘I’ve scanned her,’ she informs her quietly. ‘She’s not using a cloaking device, or a perception filter, and she’s not a different species.’

‘So she’s a child,’ Yaz says, a brow arched.

‘She’s a child. But you never know, Yaz! Some aliens are wily like that,’ the Doctor protests. ‘Anyway, her father will definitely be in one of these tents. That’s why she’s here, or at least why she’s been close, because according to the Renshaw Law these lot passed two centuries ago, children aren’t allowed anywhere near a battlefield.’

‘Which means she’s walked a long way,’ Yaz surmises.

The Doctor nods. ‘From the timeframe we’re working on, her mum was given clearance as soon as the war ended, last night. That means they’re family to a high-ranking official; they’re always the first to see loved ones.’

She looks as if she is about to say something else. There is a curious light in her eyes.

Yaz dismisses what she was about to say, and asks, ‘What?’ instead.

The Doctor simply smiles. ‘Just—you’re amazing, Yasmin Khan. You’re bringing a family back together. I’m very proud.’

Yaz flushes.

Even though the five of them can hear the squadrons around them waking up, the four adults know that no one will be ready yet. This is peacetime, and everything here is loose. The light may be here but the morning isn’t ready yet, so they stay, and wait for the first calls of action.

It helps, too, that Vay is a little charmer. Now fully awake, Ryan has been won over in an instant—but she is staying by Yaz’s side, so he volunteers to wash Vay’s blanket and win over her affection that way. Whilst Vay waits for her blanket to return, she allows herself to be entertained by Yaz’s tickles and silly faces. The Doctor supplies her with a few custard creams from her coat pocket—‘For breakfast!’ she grins—and Vay takes an immediate liking to them.

In a free moment, when Vay has launched herself, yet again, at Graham, Yaz notices the Doctor watching her. She doesn’t feel embarrassed, just settled. She smiles back.

Ryan returns half an hour later with a sopping wet blanket, but it is clean and Vay is delighted. Light is everywhere now, indistinguishable from the world, and the morning is warming up. So, it seems, is everyone else: pots are cooking hearty breakfasts, strips of meat and boiled grains. As they leave the tent, the smell of food hits Yaz square in the stomach, and it growls impatiently.

In her arms, Vay wriggles around to poke Yaz’s belly. Crystal-blue eyes narrow and she grins a growl in response.

Yaz laughs. ‘Perfect!’

The Commander General’s tent is far larger than theirs, and already busy with personnel. Any snippets of conversation that reach Yaz’s ears tell her they are co-ordinating the extracting programme. They are going home.

The five of them are not noticed by anyone, until the Commander General himself bustles through his throng of people. He is busy asking an adviser questions when he alights on Vay—and freezes.

Vay immediately perks up. ‘Papo!’ she crows delightedly. Yaz lets her to the ground, and she runs, wet blanket in hand.

She is in his arms in an instant. He scoops her up and swings her about, beaming. This commander, always hard and unfeeling the previous week, is sobbing as he reunites with his daughter.

There are tears in his eyes. Yaz’s heart squeezes at the sight. This man could have died today—but the war is over, and here he is.

She feels a hand take hers, and looks to her side to see the Doctor beaming at her.

‘Where did you find her?’ he demands. ‘My little miracle.’ Vay giggles, recognising the phrase.

‘We found her wandering the field,’ the Doctor starts. ‘Early dawn, by herself. Very brave.’

‘She was calling for her Papo,’ Yaz adds. ‘We kept her safe until we could find her dad.’

‘S’pose that turned out to be you,’ Graham says.

‘Yes. Yes, that’s me. Thank you,’ the Commander General breathes. ‘I cannot thank you enough. My child, my child.’ He kisses the top of her head. ‘My child.’

Leaving Vay is harder than Yaz expected it to be. But Vay is curious and silly and she is safe, at last, on this battlefield, with her Papo.

Vay doesn’t want them to leave, either. But when she understands they must, she gives Yaz her blanket.

Yaz leaves with tears in her eyes. Happy.

They don’t wait around. As the day beckons, so does the TARDIS; so does the rest of their lives. They are glad, at least, to be leaving on a successful note.

It could have been much, much worse.

Before closing the doors to the TARDIS, she takes one last look at the field. So much violence, and bloodshed, and loss—but hope now, too. A new world is waking up, a good world, where a child will find their father. And she is grateful for it.

Round the TARDIS console, Ryan teases his granddad about Vay defeating him in a tickle fight. The Doctor is typing up a destination onto the screen: Sheffield, Earth, 2020.

Silently, Yaz walks up to her. In one hand, she has bundled Vay’s blanket, cold in her palm. With the other, she reaches out for the Doctor.

The Doctor looks up and smiles. And links their fingers together.

send me numbers!

#thasmin #thasmin fanfiction #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #team tardis #kp answers #thasmin prompts

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juju-on-that-yeet · 4 years

Text

Reparations

Whumptober 2020 Day 10: They Look So Pretty When They Bleed Prompt: Blood Loss

Summary: On the third day of Dr. Iplier's disappearance, Yandereplier gets tired of waiting and searches for - and finds - his father himself. (continued from “Handled”)

Warnings: Blood, aftermath of torture, blood loss symptoms

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober 2020 series)

Enjoy!

It’s not until King goes into the clinic in the late morning for a budding sore throat that the egos begin to realize that Dr. Iplier is missing.

“The Host has told Dr. Iplier not to go too far on his walks,” Host mutters, curled in his seat at the emergency meeting, hands tangled in his hair. “Host told him, he told him–”

“Well, I hope he’s not lost,” Wilford says, too casual as always. “He wouldn’t just scurry off, would he?”

“I never sensed anything,” Silver mumbles nervously, “But last night was…busy, I guess you’d call it, so I don’t know.”

“The Googles are in charge of the clinic until we find him,” Dark says, aura crackling below his words. “And we will find him.”

But that’s easier said than done.

The Host tries to retroactively find out what happened to Dr. Iplier, but it’s already been too long, and Host’s narrations can’t go back far enough. It takes two days for the Googles to trace the signal of Dr. Iplier’s cell phone – only to find the phone in a dumpster, with nothing on it to help the search further. The egos don’t stop looking, but with the phone giving no leads, there’s nothing else to go on.

Everyone is stewing over the disappearance, and one of the egos taking it the hardest is Yandere. He has to wonder if Dr. Iplier gets even half this worried when Yandere takes too long to get home at night – and if so, he can understand why he gets so paranoid. Yandere’s done his own canvassing, his own peering into shady streets and abandoned buildings, trying to find where his father could be. He hardly eats, he hardly sleeps. Dark tells him to let the others handle it, Wilford tells him not to worry, Chrome tells him that he’ll give Yandere updates as they come, but none of it is enough. None of it eases the gnawing fear in Yandere’s gut. He knows what they say about missing persons cases, he knows that recovery of a living person is unlikely after those first twenty-four hours. He also knows that if Dr. Iplier were to die, he might not be popular enough to come back. It makes Yandere angry, but it scares him, too. He’s scared. Dark is there for him when he’s lonely, Wilford helps him through sadness, Chrome is good at managing his anger, but Dr. Iplier was always the one Yandere went to for help with fear. Without him, Yandere is lost.

On the third day of Dr. Iplier’s disappearance, Yandere has an idea.

Patient records.

Dr. Iplier’s told him stories before, stories of angry patients or angry relatives, of the things they’d say or do if treatments failed or didn’t work as well as they wanted. The cell phone in the garbage shows forethought, planning, not a random attack. It could be a patient, or a relative, and Yandere could find it in the clinic’s patient files.

He manages to sneak into the clinic without alerting Plus and walks out with Dr. Iplier’s work laptop, taking it to his room to search. The records are all there, either digital only or scanned versions of paper copies. Yandere looks through them, starting with the most recent first, searching for grievous injuries and deaths, keeping an eye out for familiar situations. Dr. Iplier never names names, but he tells Yandere plenty as he’s bandaging him up after Yandere’s nights out causing trouble.

He’s spent hours poring over files before he finds something promising: the case of Kelsey Millfield, a sixteen-year-old car crash victim who was in the clinic two months ago. She’d died soon after admission, and the file notes that her father, Roger, had reacted extremely poorly. Yandere vaguely recalls Dr. Iplier sadly telling Yandere about Kelsey and Roger, how upset and angry Roger was over Kelsey, how he blamed Dr. Iplier for not being able to save her. It might be a long shot, but…Kelsey’s address, and by extension Roger’s address, is right there. It wouldn’t be that hard to do a little reconnaissance, would it?

Yandere knows he should bring his findings to someone else, but he doesn’t want to waste time, doesn’t want to risk being told that it’s a pointless avenue. And maybe he’s also hoping to get a little revenge for the past two sleepless nights.

It’s already dark, given how long Yandere’s spent looking at the clinic records. He leaves the building and heads for Roger’s house unnoticed.

He gets there easily. It’s a modest home, with a detached garage. The lights are off inside. Yandere sneaks around to the back, and sees a pair of bulkhead doors on the back wall, probably leading to a basement. There’s a crumpled tarp in the yard, folded up haphazardly. Looking closely at it, Yandere can see dried blood caked into the folds. He begins to hear a voice coming from through the bulkhead doors, faint. Yandere hazards a few steps closer to them, keeping an eye on the house, ready to take cover if the lights flick on. Nothing happens, and Yandere keeps walking closer to the bulkhead doors, past the bloody tarp, until he can understand the voice.

“…Trees of green,” sings the wavering, weak, yet unmistakable voice of Dr. Iplier, “Red r-roses too…”

Yandere’s heart twists over itself. He forgets to be quiet as he rushes forward to get into the basement. The doors are locked from the inside, and Yandere lacks the patience for lock-picking, so he shoves his katana through the mechanism, destroying it. The metal-on-metal crunch must startle Dr. Iplier, for he stops singing for a moment as Yandere pulls the doors open.

“Oh, where was it…” he mumbles, “I hear babies crying…no, I w-wasn’t there yet. Oh, where…”

Yandere runs down the stairs and into the basement, finding Dr. Iplier, chained by one hand to a pillar. He looks over at Yandere, and even at a distance, Yandere can see he’s horribly pale.

“Dad!” Yandere cries, dashing to Dr. Iplier’s side. It’s not until he gets there that he notices the confused glaze in his eyes, the quick and shallow breaths he’s taking, and worst of all, the absence of Dr. Iplier’s right hand and the ragged, meaty stump there instead.

“Oh no, Dad,” Yandere gasps, unable to take his eyes off the injury. It’s still open and weepy, unable to scab over and heal on its own. There’s only a few spots of blood on the ground, but Yandere expects most of Dr. Iplier’s lost blood is wrapped up in the tarp in the backyard. Blood loss would certainly explain Dr. Iplier’s pale skin, his odd behavior.

“Sweetheart, is that you?” Dr. Iplier asks faintly, “Why am I…why am I awake s-still? I’m tired, love…”

“Dad, no,” Yandere says quickly, taking out a short dagger to cut Dr. Iplier’s left hand free of the chains, “Don’t sleep yet, sleep when we get home.”

“It’s not my fault, darling, I t-told him,” Dr. Iplier mumbles, “I said, I told him…what are the words, Yandere? I keep…keep forgetting.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” Yandere murmurs, fighting back the tears that prick his eyes to see Dr. Iplier like this. He hugs Dr. Iplier, putting his arms around his neck. Dr. Iplier’s skin is cold and clammy. “We’re gonna get out of here and go home, you just have to wait a little longer.”

Dark can only teleport to places he’s already been, but Wilford can go anywhere, so long as he knows what the place he’s going looks like. All Yandere needs is to take a photo of the room, send it to Wilford, and wait for Wilford to come get him. He’s done as much before when he was in trouble. But he hears footsteps coming from upstairs, doors opening.

Roger knows that Yandere’s here.

Yandere can’t help but sneer as he takes his arms away from Dr. Iplier to stand. When Roger rushes down the basement stairs and comes into view, disheveled and in pajamas, Yandere is standing, ready for him, mouth snarling and eyes bright red. Roger stops in his tracks, astonished, then angry.

“How did you get in here!?” he yells, “I threw out his phone!”

“So you’re the piece of shit who kidnapped my father,” Yandere growls, unsheathing his katana.

“He killed my daughter,” Roger snaps, face tight with emotion, “He let her die. This is the least he deserved.”

“Is that your version of justice!?” Yandere cries, “You’re going to kill my dad and destroy another family just to make yourself feel a little better??”

“I–” Roger’s eyes go wide. He lists to the side, grabs the bannister of the staircase for support.

“You’re a coward,” Yandere snarls, “You’re scum. And you’re going to pay.” He grins wickedly. “How about a hand for a hand, huh? It’s only fair.”

“Yan, baby, Yan,” Dr. Iplier suddenly says, trying to shout but only managing a normal speaking volume, “D-Don’t hurt him, I know you, don’t…red roses, too…”

“But Dad,” Yandere gasps, “Dad, he hurt you!”

“He’s hurt, too,” Dr. Iplier continues, “Him too, love, h-him…what are the words? I forget, trees of green, oh, trees…”

Yandere glares at Roger, and sees in Roger’s eyes helplessness, despair, grief so raw that it almost gives Yandere pause. He understands that he’s looking into the eyes of a man who’s lost everything. After several long moments, Roger speaks.

“You’re his son, huh?” Roger sighs.

“Yes,” Yandere answers, still glaring, “I’ve been looking for him ever since you took him.”

Yandere doesn’t know what Roger sees in Yandere’s eyes. Maybe fury, maybe disgust, maybe bloodlust, maybe even fear that Dr. Iplier is moments from slipping into sleep and never waking up. Whatever it is that Roger sees, it’s enough to make him sigh shakily and turn away.

“Just…go,” he mumbles, quiet and sad, “Take him with you. Just go.” He walks back up the stairs without another word, shutting the basement door behind him.

Yandere stares for a moment, speechless. A part of him wants to rush after Roger, make him pay like he said he would. But even more important to Yandere than revenge is Dr. Iplier, who’s delirious with blood loss, only half-conscious, and in desperate need of help.

“Proud of you,” Dr. Iplier mumbles, “Proud, s-sweetheart, you…skies of blue, skies…Yan, why am I awake?”

“So you can stay alive,” Yandere murmurs, taking a photo of the basement with his cell phone, “Just a little longer, alright?” He fires off a text to Wilford with the photo and a quick explanation and kneels beside Dr. Iplier. “It’s over, Dad, it’s over.”

“It’s over,” Dr. Iplier repeats, “Dark sacred nights, d-dark…it’s over, it’s dark, Roger…Roger and Kelsey, it’s over…But it ended already, l-love, it already died…” He looks at Yandere, sadness peeking through his dazed expression. “Don’t k-kill him, sweetheart, he’s dead already…”

As the pair wait for Wilford, Yandere can’t help but look at the spot where Roger stood earlier, remember the grief in his eyes, and shiver.

#whumptober2020 #no.10 #blood loss #markiplier #fanfic #yandereplier #dr. iplier #my writing #kristin says stuff

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twatd · 5 years

Text

Getting TWATD at the Wake, i: WicDiv #45 Reactions

Every month, two writers have returned to this blog. They did an essay each. For five years. And now it’s all over.

The Wicked + The Divine #45 is out, showing us what the gods did after the cycle ended. We’re following their lead and breaking our own rules. We won’t be writing the normal essays about the issue. Less a remembrance of WicDiv’s death, and more a celebration of its life.

Let’s start with our initial reactions. Once we’d both read the issue, we sat down and discussed our feelings on where everyone ended up, and how the story finished. Here are the highlights of that conversation.

Spoilers for... well, for the entirety of WicDiv, I guess, below the cut.

Tim: So here we are. After five years and 45 issues, we reach the end of The Wicked + The Divine. Overall, did it feel like a satisfying ending to you?

Alex: After #44, which I enjoyed but didn't really feel like an ending to me... this issue was pretty much exactly what I wanted from the end of this story. I liked where every character ended up, and I got a bit weepy at the sheer optimism of them still being alive and making a positive difference in the world.

What about you?

Tim: I was more or less the flip of that. For me, the emotional climax was last issue, and this is more of a coda that works beautifully in some ways and stumbles a little in others. That might just be my expectations shaping my reading though - we've both sunk a lot of time into thinking about this series, so we're always going to come in with baggage.

Alex: Oh, absolutely. But I suspect our own sets of baggage aren't necessarily the same. WicDiv is a broad church, and I think we've always got slightly different things from it. And I wonder if that informs our different reactions?

Tim: I would be interesting to dig into, but I worry this whole thing could turn into a mutual therapy session.

Alex: Hah. I mean, that's what this whole comic is for, right?

Tim: This issue keeps the focus relatively tightly on Laura. Do you think WicDiv overall was always her story?

Alex: I actually disagree with that statement a little. The big twist of this issue, for me, is how much it was Cassandra's story.

As I slowly realised who the funeral was for (a process extended out a little thanks to the slightly blurry review PDF obscuring the name on the programme), I was actually kind of furious. Cassandra's always been one of my favourite characters, and she's been a little absent from the last couple of issues.

But, at the halfway point of the issue, I think that starts to show itself as intentional. In the end, Cass gets to give her own eulogy, and she's probably got the most lines of anyone in the issue. Even when she's not around, people are talking about her. It's basically “Where’s Poochie?” meets a Cassandra-themed Bechdel Test. And I love it.

Tim: Yeah, it's essentially a Cass sandwich between two slices of Laura bread. It effectively makes their relationship the central figure of the final issue, which is fascinating given that this issue also introduces a whole new wrinkle to the dynamic that we've seen them develop over 44 issues.

I'm sure that there are plenty of people out there who shipped them, but I've got to say, Laura and Cass ending up married sort of blindsided me. I loved their friendship throughout the series, and the way they slowly opened up to each other, but I can't say I picked up on any romantic vibes between the two. Am I being a clueless straight dude here?

Alex: I think that, for all WicDiv's love of foreshadowing, their relationship isn't something that has been signposted much during the series. There is Laura's line in #43 about jealousy and envy, but I think this is more about the vast period between these two issues. A relationship that was one thing, organically becoming another. Rather than – to pick another comic which was hugely formative on us both and has a weirdly similar ending – the Yorick/355 thing of 'oh, this is what that always was'.

Tim: Yeah, I suppose in a way it speaks volumes about just how much was jammed into the two years that we followed those characters through, and how much more you can fit in a time span 20 times longer. But I do worry that it slightly undermines the Laura/Eleanor moments in #44.

Alex: That might be it, actually – Laura and Eleanor were the bits of #44 I found least interesting, because it's a dynamic I'm just not that invested in. I do agree that it feels narratively messy to bring that relationship up only to immediately push it aside, but I feel like that's part of the point – and it's probably easier for me to accept, because I was never aboard that particular ship.

Tim: I can definitely accept that a the pairing of Laura & Eleanor feels too chaotic to last, while a Cass & Laura marriage would be built on rock.

How about where everyone else ended up? Were there any surprises that stood out to you?

Alex: I think the one that surprised me most is Aruna (ex-Tara) and Jon (ex-Mimir). Not where they ended up, exactly – Jon building her a body is something I've seen multiple people on Tumblr crossing their fingers for – but rather how much is done with how little.

They're the gods we got to know least, because of when and how they were each introduced, and they don't get much page space here, but I still Got It. The abstraction of Aruna's body, and Jon inevitably growing into his dad but learning from his mistakes... those are both really lovely endings for those characters.

What about you?

Tim: Aruna is obviously the most visually stunning, and I love the design that McKelvie has created. It reminds me of something I can't put my finger on, and for some reason it means that when she started playing guitar, I was like "oh, it's St Vincent". Make of that what you will.

Alex: That's a nice bit of pop-cultural synaesthesia. (…synthaesthesia?)

Tim: Otherwise, I found Umar's evolution really interesting. It felt like some of his selflessness had curdled into anger a little, and seeing him echo Cam was a real heartbreaker. That and his dynamic with Cass - he felt like someone with a whole bunch of tragedy and regret draped around him.

Alex: That's a really interesting take on him. And it's testament to how open these characters' fates are left – I didn't get that vibe off him at all, but it makes complete sense, and I can now see it in the severity of his design.

But the closure of that final plot loop, with the Morrigan prophecy, was definitely something that stuck out to me. It was painful, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. The idea that he's married, but it's to someone who – canonically, word of literal god – isn't the love of his life? Oof.

Tim: Here's a question - would you want to see more of either the 2055 cast or the times in between, or do you think this snapshot was enough? Like, if this had been a final arc, instead of a final issue.

Alex: In the run-up, I assumed this issue would be structured like: ‘five years, and ten years later, and...’. So I definitely thought we’d get more of that stuff than we did.

Honestly, I love these versions of the characters a lot, but I think spending longer with them could only diminish the impact. And I like that there's a certain level of 'nope, you don't get to see this'. It reminds me of what Laura tells us, about her abortion: “You don’t get details.”

Tim: And yeah, I agree. As much as I have questions I'd love answered, the answers I speculate on in my head are probably as satisfying as actually seeing them on the page in some ways. Knowing that the characters got to live on and make choices and mistakes is, in a lot of ways, enough.

We've spoken numerous times before about how WicDiv is a book obsessed with cycles and systems. Do you think the characters have well and truly broken free from what was trapping them?

Alex: Absolutely. I think that's what I found so moving about this issue – their lives moving forward, unencumbered by all the things they kept being dragged back into over those two years. It doesn't mean they're perfect people, in the final reckoning, but they do get to be whole people.

Tim: There's definitely a sense of somewhat messy real lives outside of this moment, something that's hard to convey in such a small space. Eleanor seems to be the one holding on to her iconic poses and perfect sarcasm the most, which absolutely makes sense, but even she feels like someone who has changed and evolved. They are all free to colour outside the lines now, which isn't always pretty, but it's true.

Alex: So we're agreed that the gods all managed to break free of their cycle. But as WicDiv has been coming out, the two of us have also found a neat little groove to live in. How do you feel about that going away?

Tim: This has been a wonderful community to be part of, and I've rarely if ever stumbled across negative parts of it, which is pretty extraordinary for a fandom in the modern age. I will definitely miss watching people react to and interpret new issues as they come out, and I hope the interesting voices that I've discovered through this keep writing about other things that inspire them. How about you?

Alex: It's a weird mix of sadness and relief, because our relationship with this comic is so tied up with thinking and reading and especially writing about it. Both of our lives have changed a lot over the five years WicDiv has been coming out, and in particular we've both been hella busy of late, so I've definitely felt that monthly cycle starting to bite into my neck.

But who am I kidding? I give myself about six weeks till I start missing it all, and send you one of my famous late-night texts, the ones that start "Tim, I've had a bad idea..."

#WicDiv #The Wicked + The Divine #The Wicked and The Divine #TWATD

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prxttylittle · 5 years

Note

[Puts head on the other’s shoulder], “You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”, “You keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?”

[Puts head on the other’s shoulder]

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

The sound of his phone ringing at anytime after 11pm always reminded Prince of his dealing days but then he would remember where he was and recognise that, now, a phone call late in the night was usually never good news, it no longer meant money. They were woken up by a call close to 6am to say it was time to say goodbye to Cassie. Luna’s brother had texted in the middle of the night only to call the next day to update them when things got bad with her dad. Even when he was a kid, his dad would receive a call at 2am and then as a five year old Prince would be left alone with his baby sister for anything up to four days. The only time a phone ringing after midnight ever meant good news was when he and Luna were booty calls to one another when they were young. This time, it was bad news. The worst news, in fact. He’d gone to bed in a bad mood, after an icy conversation with his wife before they turned the lights off and he’d only just fallen asleep when the iPhone tone alarmed him, waking him up. Pandora’s face lit up his screen and he didn’t hesitate to answer, wiping the sleep out of his eye. Twenty minutes later Prince was at the hospital, rushing in search of his sister. Another fifteen minutes later, after dropping Leo off at Nick’s where Nick’s sister was minding all the other kids, Luna was right by his side. Nick was relaying what Panda had told them about the accident that day when a doctor appeared. She announced that he was going to be in surgery for another while, and was in critical condition but she couldn’t update them on his progress or make any comments. Prince stepped back and it felt like time around him was slowing down. He could feel people pass by, and could hear voices but everything was blurry. The sound of Pandora crying in Nick’s arms felt miles away, and he could barely feel Luna’s hand on his. His vision was blurred but it was only when he felt a drip down his cheek that he realised that it was tears blocking his sight. He stepped back again and this time felt Luna’s hand slip away from his. He didn’t say anything, he just walked away.

Prince got outside the hospital, feeling his insides churn inside him. He vomited into the nearest bin, tears still spilling down his face. He heard his name and turned to face his wife. “Is this enough for you? Is this me understanding loss enough for you?” He wasn’t angry with her. She’d had a point in their last argument when she stated he didn’t understand what she was dealing with after Cassie and her dad. He’d quite literally never lost anyone in his life. His mother walking away didn’t count, it wasn’t the same. It was no real love lost. And even now, Prince still hadn’t lost anybody yet. Matt was in surgery, there was a chance he’d make it. But Prince was no optimist. The doctor not being able to give them any positive news to cling onto other than the fact that he was alive didn’t give Prince much hope. He couldn’t believe that Matt was going to make it because after the loss of Cassie and Luna losing her dad, he thought maybe when it rains it just fucking pours. He shook his head, wiping violently at his eyes. “Fuck I’m sorry, I’m a fucking asshole. I didn’t mean that.” He wrapped his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, despite the dampness of his cheeks. It didn’t make any sense for this to happen, for Matt to just get randomly hit by a car. It wasn’t fair, hadn’t they been put through enough as a group? It just didn’t make sense how Matt could be sending Prince voice messages with witty jokes one minute to being unconscious in an operating room the next. He let out a breath and pulled back, his hands going to cup Luna’s face. He wanted to speak, apologise for the tension between them at home. He wanted to tell her she could ignore him for the rest of their lives as long as she promised not to get ill or hit by a random truck on the motorway en route to work, he wanted to just tell her he loved her. Instead, he kissed her, because words never were his strong suit anyway. They returned to the ICU, to Matt’s room where the bed was vacant. Prince was still shaking as Luna led the way, hand intertwined with his. Pandora was sat next to the bed, holding onto the bed railing for dear life as if he was there. Nick was pacing up and down the hall outside the room, cursing out loud every now and then. Prince took a seat, Luna joining him. He felt her settle in, placing her head on his shoulder. He sighed and kissed the top of her head before they took one another’s hand and sat there together, playing the waiting game for word of Matt. Prince felt sick, like his lungs were going to explode but having Luna was helpful, having her hold onto him the way she was calmed him down.

Prince wasn’t even sure how many days had passed but Matt was still in his coma and he just wasn’t able to hold onto hope like everyone else. He felt like he was waiting to plan the funeral. He recalled conversations they’d had, where Matt joked about carrying his own coffin or playing stupid music as he was put into the ground. He didn’t know what Matt really wanted. He didn’t even know if Matt was more of a burial or cremation guy. He figured someone with as much money as Matt’s family probably had a will, even so young. He kept these thoughts to himself, not telling anyone he was preparing for the worst. He walked into the hospital room, frowning at the sight of the kids playing with cheap hospital toys on the ground. He glanced across to Nick who was on his phone. “What are they doing in here?” He hissed, quiet enough so nobody but Nick would hear him. Nick shrugged him off, barely supplying an answer. “Where’s Luna and Panda?” Nick still didn’t look up from his phone, saying he didn’t even notice they’d left. “Of course you didn’t, you can’t look up from your fucking phone for two seconds. Matt could wake up and you’d fucking miss it because you don’t give a shit. Asshole.” Nick did look up then, glaring at Prince. Before they could fight, Pandora and Luna returned. “Dad called Nick a asshole.” Prince blinked at Leo who stood up to greet his mother when she walked in. “Tattle-tale.” Katie giggled while Camille corrected his grammar. Luna just handed Prince the coffee she’d gotten him while she was gone instead of indulging the kids. Even with Matt lying lifeless in the middle of the room with wires and tubes sticking out all places, the kids still managed to stay oblivious, to joke around. Prince had never known innocence like that.

Sitting around his best friends’ hospital bed for even more days with no answers was draining. Prince was just waiting for the machines to stop beeping or for the doctors to come in with a final announcement that he was brain-dead, no sign of life. Part of him perked up whenever someone in a white coat came nearby, maybe they’d come in with good news. That had yet to happen. Prince decided to check on the kids in the hospital’s nursery. They had been going back and forth from the hospital to being babysat at home. Eli and Leo were playing with toy cars while the girls were drawing on a chalkboard with some other kids in the nursery. They were old enough to know something bad was happening but not old enough to be distracted from the importance of winning a toy race or colouring inside the lines of a drawing of a flower. “Prince?” Katie appeared in front of him. He knelt down in front of her. “Is Ava’s daddy going to die? Like my mum?” Prince frowned. “I just don’t want them to be sad like I am.”As Prince stepped back into the room, exhausted, he wrapped an arm around Luna’s waist from behind, kissing her shoulder over her shirt. “Any updates?” But he already knew the answer. She leaned back into his touch, resting her head on his shoulder like she’d done the first day, but now he was filled with even less hope and it wasn’t as comforting. Suddenly, despite no changes in the environment, the screen beside Matt’s bed started making rapid beeping noises. Prince stepped away from Luna as a nurse ran into the room. “What’s happening?” Pandora’s weepy voice challenged the nurse who was encouraging them all to leave the room. Another nurse and a doctor ran into the room, shouting medical terms at one another that Prince didn’t understand. One of the nurses started performing resuscitation, pounding on Matt’s chest. It looked painful. The rapid beeping turned to a steady sound. “He’s flatlining!” The nurse working on him called as the main doctor who’d been reporting to them entered the room. Prince knew what flat-lining meant and he couldn’t bear to stand around and watch his best friend, his brother, die. When Prince got outside, Nick was already out there. He had a cigarette in one hand and Prince noticed the flask in the other. It was less about Nick and more the image of Matt’s lifeless body that drove Prince to do what he did. “What the fuck is your problem?” Prince demanded as he shoved Nick from behind, causing him to choke and stumble forward. He grabbed the flask off Nick and threw it at the ground. “Your fucking kid is upstairs worried that Ava, Eli and Camille are going to be like her.” He shoved Nick again, who wasn’t fighting back. “But they won’t be because at least their other parent isn’t a piece of shit.” He shoved Nick yet again but insulting Nick’s parenting skills earned Prince a punch in the mouth that he wasn’t expecting. Nick’s name being hollered distracted both of them as Luna came between them, pushing Nick away from her husband. Prince insisted he was fine as she examined his face. He pushed her hands down. “I’m fucking fine. I came out here because I didn’t want to watch them announce him as dead–” Luna stepped in front of him and he couldn’t read her facial expression. Why was she looking at him like that? The words swirled around in his mind as he and Luna ran back to the room. ‘He’s awake’ and ‘he asked for you’. He couldn’t believe it. He literally couldn’t believe it. Maybe Luna had gotten her wires crossed. Nick followed them but Prince didn’t care. “Be careful, Eli. Your dad just woke up. Be gentle.” Pandora pulled Eli down from the bed just as Prince and Luna turned into the room. Matt looked awful, pale and groggy. His eyes were open, only barely and he was breathing into a mask and not moving but he was certainly awake. Prince’s breathing shallowed, he felt like he was going to pass out but Luna’s hand tightened around his and he calmed down and turned to her. “I’m going to kill him for making me think he just died. Don’t you ever end up like this.”

{ v ;; no reason.

Jason looked in the rearview mirror back at Freddie who was eagerly holding a stuffed bunny in his hands, so tight that Jason was afraid the thing would explode at the ears and all the filling would pour out. He was babbling, telling Jason everything that was thrilling to him about having a baby sister. Jason couldn’t help but smile as he re-focused his attention on the road when the lights went green. Fifteen years ago, he wouldn’t have predicted he’d be this settled into adult, family-life. Finding out Iola was pregnant the first time had been such a shock and neither of them really knew what they were doing, taking each day as it went and taking help wherever they could get it. He still didn’t feel like they’d gotten the hang of it completely when she revealed she was pregnant for a second time, once again knocking him off of his feet. “I told the kids at school that I have a baby sister and guess what? My friend said he has two little sisters. Isn’t that cool, dad?” Jason chuckled and nodded. “It’s very cool buddy, but let’s just focus on one for now.” They rolled into the hospital car park and Jason had to try his hardest to keep Freddie by his side, the child was practically vibrating with excitement. They finally turned into the maternity ward and Freddie spotted his aunt before Jason did, worrying him when their hands become unconnected for Freddie to go running at her, ignoring Jason’s call to slow down. Jason caught up to them and Freddie was repeating everything he’d said in the car to Leah, this time introducing the toy rabbit he’d picked out for the baby. He heard Iola cooing coming from her room and took Freddie from his Leah’s arms, warning him to be gentle with the baby when they got in. “Hey, honey.” He beamed at the sight of his wife, kissing her on the forehead. She was cradling Marceline, whose face was poking out of a fuzzy yellow blanket. Jason kissed her, too. Despite not shutting up once since being picked up from school, Freddie had gone silent. He was standing at the edge of the bed, picking at a thread in the rabbits arm, staring at the floor. He had suddenly gone shy. Jason and Iola exchanged a knowing glance and Jason took the baby, cradling her gently. Beside him, Iola got out of the bed, going to kneel in front of Freddie. Jason focused his attention on Marceline and it felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. He’d felt exactly like this the day Freddie was born, he loved this feeling. He loved having a family with Iola. It was the dream he never knew he wanted to come true until it did. Iola managed to talk Freddie down from his shyness, encouraging him to take a seat on the bed, his back against the wall. “You ready to meet your little sister, love?” He nodded to Freddie who looked at Iola and only when she nodded in encouragement did he answer that he was ready. Gently, Jason crouched down to Freddie’s level. “Now, hold your arms out. Be careful with her, put your arm under her head– yeah just like that. You’re a natural at this! Keep her head supported, okay?” When he was sure Freddie wasn’t going to drop the newborn like a basketball, he stepped back. He wrapped an arm around Iola’s waist as she rested her head on his shoulder. They gazed down at their kids with awe. Freddie started to talk, introducing himself and telling Marceline about her room and the difference of it from his, going on to talk about his favourite games that he was going to play with her. Jason grinned. “I knew you were good looking when I first met you but I never knew you’d make such beautiful kids.” He chuckled, kissing her on the top of the head as they continued to watch their children bond.

{ v ;; july 17th.

Zayn wasn’t sure why his managers had suggested this tv show. It seemed to put him in the middle of a lot of unnecessary drama that wasn’t going to give him any good publicity, always fighting and fucking the wrong people. At first he thought it would be relaxing, living in a house with nothing to do each day but simply exist for the cameras. When drama and gossip sources got introduced he thought maybe he’d be protected by his team and it seemed so far he was since none of his dark secrets had been revealed yet. His brothers had, and a few of his friends. He realised a lot more people confided in him than he thought because he’d already known half the secrets being revealed. He knew Ari’s long before it was made public but he wasn’t expecting to feel so protective of her once he read the revelation online. Ari had told Zayn a long time ago about the abuse she received from her dad growing up. At the time, he saw red. His rage was no less existent when the Gyhab drama channel talked about it. He didn’t think she needed to be embarrassed of it but he hated that he knew nothing would be done. The whole world could know her dad was a piece of shit but he would suffer no consequences, not like what Ari suffered. He had plans with the other Ariana but he immediately cancelled in favour to seek out Arianna’s company. He didn’t even give an excuse, just cancelled and routed in his room until he found his laptop. He made his way to Ari’s room, stopping at the kitchen en route, and knocked on the door. There was no answer but he wasn’t accepting that. He pushed open the door, discovering the lump on the bed. “You should really lock that. A lot of weirdos live in this house.” She took a moment to stir but eventually poked her head out from under the covers and he smiled in greeting, struggling to hold onto the laptop tucked under his arm, the food balanced in the crook of his elbows and the cups of tea in his hands. “I’m seriously struggling here.” He knew the only reason she crawled out of the bed to help him was because she liked his tea, and wanted the cup designated to her. She lightened the load he was carrying and he shut the door behind him and locked it. “We’re going to watch a film.” Over an hour later, the credits to the first Twilight flashed onto the screen, and Zayn didn’t stir. Instead, he just went into the recommended and turned on the second one. Usually he would argue with her about wanting to watch these but he was here to make her feel better. “Zayn.” He glanced over at her, frowning at the sadness etched onto her face. He was able to understand she was more upset about the memories her secret reveal would bring up, rather than the revelation itself. “More tea?” He offered, if just to distract. He shuffled closer to her and brought his arm to hug her into him. “If you want to talk, I’m here but if you just want to watch crap movies, I’m also here.” He watched as she considered his options before settling into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. He felt his heart race just a little bit but he ignored it. Now wasn’t the time for feelings. He chuckled when she defended Twilight against his use of the word crap before settling back into the bed with her.

“You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince propped himself up on his elbow, watching Luna move around the room, hushing Camille with a Spanish lullaby. He didn’t understand the song despite how well he’d tried to learn the language over the years. He picked up on a few familiar words but overall couldn’t grasp the entire thing. A smile braced his lips as he watched them. Luna would whisper to Camille occasionally, calming her down and sometimes brushing at her hair. He knew she only did the hair thing because the baby’s head was unbelievably soft, like defy-science soft. It was the first thing that he’d noticed about his niece, after how miraculously tiny she was of course. Eventually Luna put Camille down in the crib and crawled into bed with him. He held the covers open for her and immediately scooted closer once she was in his company. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re good with her. She likes you.” He pointed out, keeping quiet. They’d offered to babysit just to give Matt and Pandora who were constantly yawning and sporting bags under their eyes, some time off. The couple jumped at the opportunity and escaped abroad for the weekend but Pandora’s video calls every hour just to check on her baby showed they weren’t prepared for how much they’d miss her. Prince agreed to keep the travel-crib in their own bedroom so Pandora knew Camille wasn’t alone at any point in the night. He wasn’t exactly used to having a tiny human present so he was doing his best to whisper. “She likes me too, really we’re great with kids.” He was hinting but his serious moment was interrupted by his phone ringing on the nightstand. He cursed and rolled over to grab it before the sound could wake up his niece just when they’d gotten her down. He rolled his eyes when Panda’s name popped up on the screen. He silenced the phone, put it down and turned back to Luna. “We’re asleep.” He tucked his face into the crook of her neck. They were quiet for a while, breathing steadily as the sound of soft music played from the plug-in Pandora had provided. Prince didn’t recognise if it was just general white noise or an actual lullaby. He didn’t really know any lullabies. He pointed that out to which Luna answered that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star was in fact playing. He hummed and nodded. He started tracing shapes against her skin with the tip of his finger, drawing stars in time with the music. “I’ll have to learn all the fucking lullabies for the next time we babysit.” He paused, his lips taking over from where his finger had been. “Or some Spanish ones because surely that’s what you’re going to play for our kids.” It was out there now and he couldn’t take it back and he didn’t want to take it back because Luna just seemed as happy as him at the thought of them growing their family. She’d mentioned it one day when Pandora was still pregnant and they’d gone shopping for baby stuff together but they didn’t dwell on it too much, they never did. He was enjoying married life. They had fun, traveling and making plans. Nothing felt like it was missing but he also wouldn’t be opposed to bringing something extra in. He sighed. “Then again, I could be a shit dad, for all I know–” Luna cut him off. “You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.” He blinked at her as she assured him that’s what he’d be for a mini them, too. He smiled. “The best thing?” He snorted and then went quiet, worrying he was being too loud but the baby slept soundly. A few moments passed and he returned his gaze to her. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened me, too. More, even.” He kissed her. “Just imagine how good I’ll be when I’m singing Spanish lullabies to a baby Luna.”

{ v ;; no reason.

Daddy, look!” Jason looked down to Freddie who was throwing flower petals into the air and he could feel the love for his son bursting through his chest. Jason knelt down and started playing with the blossoms, too, throwing them over Freddie who giggled like it was the most amusing thing in the world. Jason’s eyebrows shot up when Freddie stumbled and fell onto his butt, waiting for the child’s reaction. As per, Freddie just laughed, pointing out that he’d fallen. Jason chuckled and reached over to pick him back up. “Look how handsome you look.” Jason beamed, fixing the little bowtie wrapped around Freddie’s collar. He hadn’t really planned on dressing Fred up so much for this but the suit had been in the window of the store and he honestly couldn’t help it. Besides, Freddie seemed to love it. “Mummy is going to be so happy when she sees you.” He ruffled a hand in his son’s hair but was distracted by the sound of someone calling out that Iola was here. He explained the plan to Freddie one last time, watching as he nodded and made his way to wait expectantly at the gallery door. Jason made his way upstairs, always keeping an eye on Fred even though everyone in the room was friend or family and would follow him if he went wandering. Eventually the door opened and Jason hopped out of sight, before she could catch sight of him. He made his way to the unused part of the studio upstairs. There was a room with a balcony where Jason would spend mornings or evenings, watching the sun or the stars and waiting for inspiration. A few occasions he’d brought Iola up and pointed out the lights and colours that he admired. He never enjoyed any of the sights as much as he enjoyed looking at her. The room was usually empty bar one desk and chair but now it had easels against the wall, and a keyboard with a lady sat. Rose petals scattered the floor, along with tea lights. Fairy lights were hanging from wall to wall, crossing the white mesh hanging from the ceiling. The lights and petals led outside to the small balcony, which also had fairy lights wrapped around the railing. A small table stood alone, with a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne and two glasses on top. In the garden under the balcony, Jason had hired a string quartet, but that part was just to show off. Their friends and family would gather out there once Iola and Freddie got upstairs. Inside, on the easels, photographs that dated back to their early days of dating up to as far as just a few days prior hung. Some paintings recapturing moments they’d not photographed but he’d remembered were present but he’d been too insecure about his art to use too much of those. He shook out his limbs nervously. Iola had always wanted to get married, she bugged him about it for years but here he was, sweating profusely as if he didn’t know the answer. In all honesty, he probably wouldn’t even be putting on such a show about it if he didn’t know deep-down she would say yes, but his nerves were just something that couldn’t be helped, his worry that maybe she’d changed her mind about him. The sound of Iola giggling and telling Freddie to be careful chimed from the hallway. Jason nodded at the pianist and she began to play just as Iola turned into the room. He watched Freddie let go of his mothers hand as she stepped further into the room, taking everything in. Jason beamed. “Hi.” It wasn’t part of his pre-planned speech but he had now forgotten all of that. He shook his head, chuckled and said hi again. “I saw you before I met you. I used to draw you from across the way in that coffee shop, and from memory when I got home. I wanted to know who you were, so bad.” On the easels, a few of the drawings he’d made of her which had been half-ruined in the rain on the day they met were hanging up. He chuckled again, nervous. He fumbled his way through his speech, forgetting things and making up most of it along the way. He led her outside, where the quartet started to play in time with the tune from the piano. “I know I’m just a giant pain in your arse and you could do way better.” “You’re the best thing to have ever happened me.” She corrected him and he smiled, feeling time slow down around them. He nodded, asking her to repeat and confirm those words. He’d managed to get this far without crying but she was on her way to ruining that. “In that case,” he looked over to Freddie who joined them, holding a diamond ring up for Iola. “Will you do me the honour of making my son legitimate?”

{ v ;; july 17th.

The sound of rain crashing down from outside felt like the universe playing a sarcastic joke to Zayn. It felt like a movie, like everything was moving impeccably slow and slow music was going to start playing overhead any second to add to the pathetic fallacy of the rain. Playing into his cinematic mood, he went to the window, pressing his head against it as he watched rain drops race each other before dissipating with other drops. When slow music did start playing, faint and distant, Zayn initially thought he was just making it up, like his conscious was playing tricks on him because he was being so dramatic but he realised music was coming from upstairs. He frowned. He’d thought Ari was asleep. They barely spoke after coming home from the wedding but the last he saw her she was silently curling up under the bed covers. Wrapping both hands around the warm mug in his hands, he made his way up the stairs to follow the noise. He pushed open the door to reveal her wrapped up in a blanket at the end of the bed, watching something on the telly. His eyes went to the screen and he realised it was them that she was watching. I Knew I Loved You was playing, and his hands were on her waist and hers wrapped around his neck. It was from some event that Gyhab had put together and while they usually did their best to get out of things like that, they’d ended up at this one. He was dressed in a suit, the collar undone with his chest tattoos showing, and she was dressed to the nines except her hair had fallen down and his blazer was lazily strewn over her shoulders. He couldn’t place what event it was but he recognised from her hair colour that it was when they were happiest together. A few other people were on the dance floor but whoever was recording seemed focused on them and he could see why– they looked mesmerised in each other’s company. The way she was looking at him in the clip made a lump form in his throat. He coughed to clear it, clearly frightening her with his presence when she jumped. “Sorry.” He shrugged awkwardly. He stopped lingering in the doorway and joined her at the end of the bed. Her face looked wet and he spotted her wiping quickly under her eyes and trying not to sniffle but he chose not to comment. She paused the clip and he frowned and asked her to play it from the start since he’d only caught the end and she complied. The song was so romantic and they appeared so in love with one another but watching it now as they sat beside each other like strangers in a waiting room instead of a couple just felt sad. He sighed and shuffled closer to her. He took her hand and when she reciprocated he placed his other hand over theirs linked together. “I knew I loved you before I met you, I have been waiting all my life.” The song played and Zayn found himself humming along. The clip of them dancing together transitioned to a dramatic scene of a fight at the event, dragging the mood down completely. They were silent and he didn’t know what to do, or what to say. “Were you lying tonight?” He watched her turn to look at him. “When we were dancing at Reni’s wedding and you said you were only crying because you couldn’t wait for it to be us? Were you lying?” Zayn knew the answer. He wasn’t an idiot. The whole day had been impossibly awkward, pretending like they were anywhere near as happy as the next-to-wed couple they were supposed to be. Every time someone from her family would approach them and ask about their own wedding, Ari would smile brightly and spill out a new detail she was excited about. Zayn was mostly silent but smiled along with her even though he didn’t share her excitement. He didn’t want to dance but when she asked, it felt like a step forward and he wanted to share that moment with her. He wanted to be close to her even if it was artificial, but it all felt like that and all he could do was pretend like he didn’t know anything was wrong, pretend like he believed her every time she insisted she was okay. He didn’t know what else to do. The air around them felt heavy. She started to shake her head and when she wasn’t looking he rolled his eyes because he knew she was just going to lie to him again. He stood up and faced her. “You’re not happy, Ari. We’re getting married soon and I feel like your roommate, not a husband. You’re not happy with me.” Zayn wanted her to be happy, but he was selfish and wanted that to be exclusively with him. He wanted his presence to make her smile, and make her feel warm inside– like it used to, like she used to make him feel. He knew their relationship was in tatters but he wasn’t ready to give up on it, he just didn’t know what to do about it. She stood up, nearer his level now. “You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.” And for once, she sounded genuine but it seemed a depressing occurrence for him, for all of this to be the best thing for her. “But?” He urged and she shook her head. No ‘but’, he was at least glad of that. He let out a breath and stepped close to her, cupping her face in his hands. He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m tired, Zayn.” She commented. Whenever the words ‘I’m tired’ slipped out of her mouth he had to hold back his sarcasm, or an empty laugh because it was so monotonous. He nodded. “Well, it’s 4am. You should get some sleep.” He knew that wasn’t the kind of tired she meant but ‘I’m tired’ was her segway to the end of a conversation and he knew it. As sad as they were, they ended up in each other’s arms as they settled into the bed. Neither asleep, but holding onto each other was at least a positive sign.

{ v ;; katie and leo.

Halloween was Katie’s favourite time of the year. She loved to dress up in provocative outfits under the guise of a costume, loved how a girl could literally go out in underwear and add a veil or devil horns and it’s an outfit. She also loved the spook of it all, the wonderment that came with a holiday that had no rules, and different made up monsters. She had a love/hate relationship with scary movies but it was more love-based in October. Her favourite thing at Halloween time, though, was the parties. A house full of people dressed as witches or nurses or even mass murderers, with a shot of tequila in hand was just so amusing to her. She loved to dress up, and loved the compliments she received when she knew her costume was pretty bomb. This evening, it was Leo’s compliments she was seeking after, in the party she and the twins were throwing in their student flat. Eli’s snide comments about her costume meant nothing to her, not when they were matched with Leo interjecting that he loved how she looked. By the end of the night, the party wasn’t seeming to die down but Katie wanted to be alone with Leo. That was the perk of being a tenant in the house where the party was on, she could just escape upstairs and lock the door behind her. The house had Halloween decorations, but Katie’s room was done up in her own special way. She had bats strewn along the walls and pumpkin fairy lights were wrapped around her bed frame. She lit candles while Leo just lay back on her bed. She was looking forward to having this whole week with him. Usually she would go home on the weekends or skip out and miss him, but with college on mid-term she had more time to spend with him. She smiled as she approached him. “Can you believe I pulled the fittest guy here?” She tugged at his shirt to make him sit upright at the end of the bed. “And that’s saying something, Eli’s dorky friends are pretty fucking fit.” She straddled him, her hands placed gently on either side of his neck just as his rested on her hips. Her nails scratched at the nape of his neck, running through his hair there. She smirked when he kissed her, returning the action almost immediately. She pulled away, tilting her head back when his lips went to her neck. “I love when you’re here. I wish you’d come and live with us. I’m sure Eli wouldn’t mind sharing his bed with you.” She snickered and let out a screech when he suddenly turned them around so she was lying under him on the bed now. They were laughing, and having fun just being together when she pulled away and it felt suddenly like the room was going in slow motion, like she was seeing stars and spotlights surrounding him. If she looked hard enough she was sure she could see a real halo floating around his head. She smiled, but it wasn’t seductive or flirty like before. It was a soft smile, and she could feel it in her features too. “You’re my best friend. D’you know that?” Here’s hoping Ava wasn’t listening at the door. Katie giggled, feeling a little embarrassed. It wasn’t as if calling him her best friend was all that much of a confession but it had such a tender meaning behind the words and she knew she’d changed the vibe in the room. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” He retaliated and she hated how she could physically feel her cheeks flush a deep shade of red. She brought her hands to her face, a little mortified. As he tried to pry her hands away, she turned her head to the side, shaking it and laughing. Her eyes landed on the crib by her bed which she never bothers to put away when she doesn’t have Cheryl with her. Her room had a crib by the bed, a toy box in the corner and a playing mat on the floor. It was difficult to explain the furnishing of her room whenever she brought a guy home. It was never her first instinct to detail how she had a one year old daughter who visits her on the weekends. To people she didn’t plan on keeping around for more than a night, which was most of them, she would just say she was a babysitter. A lot of the time people didn’t even notice the crib until the next morning and by that point she was already kicking them out. Last year she’d skipped out on Halloween partying to go home and be with Cheryl, and her dad. This year she didn’t even go home for the week off they got for Halloween. She felt a little guilty but it was why her dad had agreed to look after Cheryl, so Katie wouldn’t miss out on things people her age were doing. She didn’t know why but a wave of sadness hit her and she finally let Leo pry her hands away. She couldn’t help the twisting in her stomach, feeling like Leo would never show her this much affection when she was home to visit Cheryl. Would he be saying the things he was if her daughter was in the crib right now? She was just overthinking, and making this all up in her head but once she let the thundercloud hover, she couldn’t stop the rain. Eventually Leo managed to get Katie to pay attention to him again, quizzing her on where her mind just went. She shook her head and laughed claiming she didn’t know what happened before she pulled him in to kiss her, distracting herself from her bad thoughts.

“You keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?

{ v ;; the princess and the moon.

Prince blinks at the sound of Luna’s voice, turning to look at her. He hadn’t expected her to follow him. He also wasn’t expecting her question and he doesn’t have an answer for it. She wasn’t wrong, he was staring at her. It was why he’d just got up and left the living room to go outside and get away. He watches as she shuts the door behind herself and repeats her question, but he still doesn’t answer. He thinks about it. What was up? Why couldn’t he keep his eyes off of her? They’d only slept together a handful of times and it’s not as if he has feelings for her, so what was throwing him off this evening? Looking at her wasn’t that new to him, she was attractive and he’d always thought so, ever since day one when he first laid his eyes on her.

“No, she’s not my girlfriend, well not really. Well, yeah okay she kind of is but we technically never agreed that I can’t hook up with other girls.” Prince raised an eyebrow at Nick’s explanation. Nick’s growing presence was starting to feel more like a friendship more than ever lately, his opinions were just as idiotic as Matt’s and he had no problem telling him exactly that. “That’s fucking stupid, Nick. You cheated on her, just admit it.” Prince didn’t understand why his friends kept getting into relationships when they had no interest in staying loyal to the girls they were with. Then again, he himself had never had a girlfriend so what did he know about relationships? Prince rolled his eyes when Nick attempted to continue to excuse himself out of the situation. As he was rolling his eyes, his gaze went past Nick and Matt discussing the technical definition of being exclusive. Across the cafeteria, Nick’s friend Cassie was sat with someone Prince had never seen before. He couldn’t help but stare– she was beautiful. She was laughing at something Cassie was saying and the way she smiled mesmerised Prince. He’d never seen anything like it. He could feel his staring getting creepy yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was as if she was moving in slow motion, like a dream sequence in a movie. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder and Prince felt like he was watching one of those laundry detergent ads where the flowers and sparkles move with her. She was dressed in the school uniform but it seemed she’d done as much as she could to push the boundaries of the dress code. Her gaze flicked past him when she went to look back to Cassie but she obviously felt him staring because she met his gaze along the way, their eyes locking on one another. He couldn’t tell what her expression was, if she was uncomfortable by his looking or if she was having the same thoughts as he was. Matt snapping his fingers in Prince’s face brought Prince back to the room, his attention returning to his friends. He felt as if he’d just been woken from a nap, dazed and confused. “What?” He snapped. The boys repeated their suggestion of going to the school garden to have a sneaky smoke before lunch break was over. He nodded slowly, pulling his schoolbag over his shoulder. As they passed the table Cassie and the other brunette were sitting at, Nick stopped to talk to Cassie, stealing food from her lunch tray. Prince and Matt carried on walking. Prince looked over his shoulder back to the girl who didn’t seem as amused by Nick as Cassie was. “Who’s that girl sitting with Cass?” He knew Matt was surprised by Prince asking about someone else. Usually, he didn’t care for new students or really anyone at all. Matt shrugged, providing her first name and nothing else as he didn’t actually know that much about her. “Luna?” Prince repeated slowly, ignoring the look on Matt’s face confused by Prince’s intrigue. “Luna Moon.” Nick supplied, joining his friends again. Prince had been looking at Luna but didn’t even notice Nick leaving them to return. The boys pushed the door of the canteen open and Prince finally stopped looking only because he couldn’t anymore. He shook off the disappointment he felt in his stomach now she was out of sight. “She’s Spanish, she just moved here. Her and Cassie act like they’re long-lost sisters or something even though they barely know each other.” Prince scoffed. That concept reminded him of Matt and Nick when they first started hanging out together. Beside him Matt was questioning in Spanish didn’t that make her name Moon Moon, meanwhile Prince was trying to get her face out of his mind. “I think she lives alone, like no parents or anything.” Prince raised his eyebrows, frowning slightly at Nick. “Lives alone? Is she not, like, fourteen?” Nick questioned why Prince cared so much, pointing out how out-of-character it was for him. Prince shrugged, pulling his cigarettes from his bag as they entered the garden, finding their usual bench that hid them from the security cameras. “I don’t care. Just curious.” Silence lingered for a bit before Matt spoke up. “I think she’s fit.” Prince returned to his natural state of ignoring his friends as they talked about girls, but this time his mind was focused on the brunette in the cafeteria that he couldn’t help but think was gorgeous, partly wishing they’d stayed at lunch so he could stare some more.

“I wasn’t fucking staring at you.” He glares at her when she steals the smoke from his hand, unsure why he really lets her do it. He watches her take a pull and for the probably tenth time in the last hour he finds himself absolutely 100% staring again. He catches himself and quickly looks away just as she starts to turn to him, cursing quietly. He knows she’s got an irritating smirk on her face, and he knows she’s more than aware he was lying about staring at her during the movie. He turns to her, his face icy cold now. “We should go back inside before someone wakes up and notices we’re gone.” But he doesn’t for one second mean any of his words because he had in fact been staring, and for a good reason.

{ v ;; no reason.

It probably shouldn’t have been as much of a shock as it was when Jason and Iola learned they were going to be parents. They weren’t the most responsible when it came to safe sex. Whenever Jason would forego a condom, he would think more about the fact that they didn’t need protection from STD’s with each other, letting his mind fall ignorant to the possibility of conceiving a child. Jason was that careless that he didn’t even know if Iola had been on contraception. Regardless of their reckless antics in the bedroom, it was still difficult to comprehend that they were going to be parents to their own human baby child. They had created life. It was a power Jason didn’t even know he had the function to follow through on. After a while the hard-to-comprehend and the shock factor of it all faded and Jason was just a mix of nerves and excitement. It felt like it was taking forever though. He knew pregnancy was a nine-month event but it felt like much more time than nine months had passed since Iola had told him that he was going to be a daddy, a real daddy, and he was getting impatient and also a little concerned. Every day that passed by her due date felt like an additional month. Would the child be ugly if it was overcooked? Have issues? He didn’t know. He tried to read the pregnancy books but after terms, and fluids and different birthing methods, his brain was fried. Easy to say he wasn’t going to be entering the career of an OBGYN anytime soon. He kept his concern to himself, worrying that if he made her worry it would stress out the baby or her womb or something. He watched her, keeping an eye out for any signs of a head or a foot hanging out of her, waiting for her to scream out in pain whenever she so much as reached for the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. She seemed to be fine, suggesting they have a date night in the form of cuddling on the couch and watching a stupid Netflix movie. He agreed but he couldn’t focus on the movie. What if her water broke at any moment and stained the sofa cushions? When Iola rolled her eyes and glared at him, her jumped slightly. “You keep staring at me instead of watching the film, what’s up?” He frowned but decided to just tell her what he was worrying about, knowing she would ease his concerns anyway. “Your due date was this week, I’m just worried you’re going to pop here and now and I’m not going to know what to do. I don’t know if you know this about me but I don’t know how to deliver a baby.” She was the one going through the discomfort of an overdue pregnancy yet he felt her hand on his back, shushing him and soothing him. She was making him feel better when he probably shouldn’t have been making this whole thing about him thinking the baby was overcooking. He had a lot of questions that he knew were too stupid to ask but he just didn’t understand the miracle of giving life, admittedly. She reassured him that her obstetrician would have informed them if there was anything worth getting worked up over yet, which she hadn’t. He nodded. “So you’re not going to ruin this movie by having a baby?” He chuckled when she seemed to get exasperated with him, leaning across to kiss her to make up for his idiocy. He stole some popcorn from the bowl that was sitting on top of her bump and grinned, his nerves once again overtaken by excitement.

{ v ;; katie and leo.

It was easy to slip away from the group when snacks were being passed around. Katie slipped through the kitchen door and made her way to the front of the house, perching herself on the front step of Matt and Panda’s home. She liked coming here, it was luxurious and she liked to imagine someday owning such a beautiful home herself. Apparently Pandora had been forcing her brother and friends to have movie nights like this since they were teens, and Katie liked that the tradition extended to the kids. Katie was perturbed from her own thoughts when she heard the door click behind her. She didn’t even need to turn to see who it was, Leo spoke before she could. She shrugged when he asked what she was doing out here, letting out a sigh. Katie felt sad. That was the best way of describing it. She wasn’t depressed, or drowning in misery. She was just sad. She felt Leo drop to the step beside her, his leg brushing up beside hers. Involuntarily, she shivered. She watched as he pulled his jacket from around himself and placed it over her shoulders while also wrapping her up in his arms. “Cheesy.” She chuckled. Katie adored Leo-- all other dramas aside, she was so appreciative of his friendship. She lay her head on his chest and let out a sigh. "I noticed that you keep staring at me instead of watching the film. What’s up?” She rolled her eyes and slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re gorgeous Leo but I wasn't staring at you, I was looking at everyone. You and your parents, the Kings.” She let out a sigh and rested her head on his shoulder. Silence lingered for a bit and Leo questioned what she meant, what was wrong with her. “I don’t know.” She felt pathetic when her eyes welled up and her voice cracked slightly, not expecting this emotional response. “If I tell you then you’re just going to argue with me and tell me I’m wrong.” Katie pressed her fingers under her eyes so no tears would fall down and ruin her eyeliner. She didn’t really feel like crying anyway. She spared him a glance when he encouraged her to go on. Her lip sunk beneath her teeth as she considered it for a moment but there wasn’t a version of this universe where Katie wouldn’t share her thoughts with Leo-Valentin. “I love coming here. Matt and Panda are so nice to me, and so are your parents. But” she paused and shrugged. “I just feel like an outsider sometimes. Me and my dad are just, like— there. You’re all this big family and then me and dad are just these two tag-alongs.” Katie wondered if her mother was alive would she feel this way whenever Matt and Panda threw some big party or got everyone together, if she had their own full family. She let out a sad laugh. “It’s stupid, I know. I don’t always feel like this. It’s just—” She looked at him again, appreciative that he was letting her rant. “Sometimes I just feel so disconnected from you lot.” She felt Leo’s arm around her pull her in closer and she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, despite how her makeup would probably stain his shirt. When Leo went to speak, she sat upright and her eyes met his. Katie already knew what he would say to her, she expected him to disagree with everything she said about being an outsider. She really didn’t want to sit through that, so she kissed him to shut him up instead. Giggling at his surprised reaction, she pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him to the ground and falling down with him. If she hadn’t gotten his shirt dirty before she definitely would now. Messing around with Leo, laughing with and kissing him was all the distraction she needed from her little crisis. So distracted, in fact, neither of them heard the front door opening and someone walking out until– “Seriously?” An irritated voice interrupted them and Katie pulled away from Leo with a hushed giggle as her eyes landed on his dad standing in the porch doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised. Katie couldn’t help but think that the scowl on his face suited him. Her face flushed as Leo sat up, fixing his hair that Katie had messed up by running her hands through it. Prince held out a hand to help them both up and Katie didn’t hesitate in wrapping hers around his. “If it was your dad that just found you two out here, I’d be down a kid.” The stern tone of voice Prince used when scolding them did nothing but make Katie’s cheek flush further. She smirked, lower lip sliding under her teeth as she shrugged, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just in the loo.” She brushed past the Jameson men, hand catching onto and letting go of Leo’s in an instance. She looked back at them just in time to catch Prince fixing Leo’s hair for him. She was feeling somewhat better, now.

#me ignoring the first prompt to write whatever? sounds just like me #its also a lot less luna prince more squad but you'll get over it #I also really struggled with that last one #but had to include Katies crush on prince its been a while #{ v ;; the princess and the moon.#{ v ;; no reason.#{ v ;; phases.#{ ;; july 17th.#beencaughts #memed

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autofoebia · 5 years

Text

works in progress

1) (something like) an operation - memoir

2) bitterness and black mold - fiction

A dentist I’ve known my entire life leaned over me with a pair of pliers in hand and said, “Tell me if it hurts,” before shoving his hands into my mouth. I was too numb to even register the brush of latex against my teeth. I lay there, tiny mouth forced open by a cheek retractor, my fingers in a death grip on my mother’s wrist, and I remember wondering how I would tell him it hurt. How would I even be able to buck up against him with the nurse’s arm across my chest? A mouth full of fingers really knows how to keep one from screaming out in agony. Perhaps the dentist was aware of that and was merely required to calm my nerves. Maybe he was playing a cruel joke on me. I considered there, on the pale blue chair with my chin tipped up and my eyes screwed shut, if pain ceased to exist under the blanket of novocaine.

The tapping of metal against bone rattled my skull. I closed my eyes tight enough to see streaks of illusionary light behind my eyelids and squeezed my mother hard enough to earn a pinch on the back of my hand. This was entirely her decision. In the summer of 2016, they found two impacted wisdom teeth on my bottom jaw. Me, a freshly graduated teenager with my head buried in Pokemon Go, expected and secretly wished for an easy operation. I had never gone under, never really understood all the pretty prose about surgeries I’d read, and somewhere, deep down, I was curious to experience going down into darkness, or waking into light. Things I had never truly considered before, I wished to experience and understand it all.

Suffice to say, when the dentist recommended I simply come in on my off day and get the two teeth out via novocaine-numbed-just-barely-a-surgery-surgery.

He pulled on my gums, my head snapping after his strength. The nurse pulled me back down again and I squeezed my mother’s wrist again, leaving crescent marks in the thin skin. The dentist twisted his wrist. I could feel the coldness of the forceps against my cheek but I couldn’t feel what it was grabbing, and then I heard a crack in the back of my throat. The taste, dulled by my useless tongue, of my own shattered tooth permeated the chill of the numbing agent. I am shaken and, oddly, intrigued. The clinical air, just as clean as the counters to my right and the sink to my left, was shot through with the coppery reek of blood. My mother made a sickened noise behind my head,

“You got it?” She asked. I could tell she wanted to go wait in the other room. Something heavy dripped down my chin and I kept my eyes shut tight as if I were afraid of whatever it was. I couldn’t help but think it was my tongue, cut free from the back of my throat.

“Got it. I’ll do the next one too.” The dentist said. He pulled his hands back and shook out his wrists, and I opened my eyes in time to see the smearing of gore on his gloves, on his tools. He looked like Dr. Frankenstein himself, hidden behind a surgical mask and a hair net and a pair of thick-framed glasses, all smudged by the faintest mist of red. He loomed over me, the monster, ready to finish the job.

---

Mara came a week before the fall season started in a tiny lime-colored car. She pulled into the driveway, still overgrown with roots and brown needles and caked-down mud, stepped out of that little car, and stared up at the wilting walls of 356 Upper Mountain Road. That house, a two-floor Victorian which had laid dormant for the past thirty years, stared back with all the interest of a decayed corpse. Three weeks ago, Mara had seen it while driving to her classes at the local university. Then, a “For Rent” sign leaned against one of the pine trees on the front lawn. A week after that initial discovery, she contacted the owner. Another week and she was there, on the front lawn, surrounded by grass grown high enough to swallow her feet and trees so heavy with age they hung down to caress the top of her head with their needles. If she were a more optimistic person, she may have thought those small touches were enthusiastic hellos from that old house. Greetings, like that of a new roommate. ‘It’s so nice to meet you. I hope we can get along.’

One should consider the house when thinking of haunted houses. Ghosts are different always, with backstories of pain and rage and sadness and murder and love. Houses, though. The houses are usually concrete in their construction, in their own backstories. They are built on graveyards or cursed lands, constructed with awful angles and horrendous hidden rooms that welcome creeping darkness akin to a living, breathing beast. 356 was nothing like those haunted houses. 356 was built in the 70s, lived in by fairly happy families, and then left alone to rot until the landowner accepted the first call she received about a renter. No ghosts haunted 356. Not a soul had been in its gaping halls longer than an hour until Mara showed up with her tiny suitcase and her tiny colorful furniture. When she entered through the front door she felt no chill, no eyes on her back, heard no scratches from the basement or attic. When she investigated the old dusty rooms she found no footprints, no shadows in the covered mirrors as she uncovered them. There were no strange smells, no odd angles, nothing but empty, stagnant air and sunlight streaming through the windows. What haunts a house if nothing has died there, nothing has come and gone there for years? What haunts a house if not a ghost? Well, one should consider the house.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, Mars,” Lydia, Mara’s younger sister, said as she helped her settle her mattress against the wall of the master bedroom. Her weary gaze took in the square, sturdy walls, covered in a blue wallpaper that may have depicted bundles of flowers once but was now too faded to even have a texture. She scrutinized the dust-gray shag carpet, which Mara had probably deep cleaned only a night or two ago, and the ceiling, which held a weepy fan and enough wrinkles in the white paint to warrant a plastic surgeon. The grand window to the left of them, which was in need of polishing, was perhaps the most beautiful thing about the room, with its curling ornamentation and balcony access. Mara, despite her sister’s obvious worries, still grinned as she stepped into the center of the wide, sunny floor, arms spread wide. She said,

“Don’t I? This place is great, Lydia, trust me, and mom said she’d cover rent until I graduate too.”

“Lucky break,” Lydia leaned against the wall, pulling two cigarettes from her back pocket. She offered the extra to Mara, who reached over and took it between two fingers.

“Didn’t you quit?” She asked as she lit up and threw her lighter back over to Lydia.

“Thought about it. Didn’t have the guts,” Lydia sighed out a cloud of spicy smoke, “I’ve decided I’m fine with my teeth falling out by the time I’m thirty. Besides, it makes me look sexy.”

“So you think, you baby,” Mara said, “When’re you and mom driving down?”

“Next Friday,” Lydia stared down at her fingernails and found infallible interest in her cuticles, “I’ll miss you, you know.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted an out of state school,” Mara said, “But I’ll miss you too, I guess.” She smirked and wandered over to the window, dragged her fingers through her hair, and watched as the sun began to sink behind the Jersey suburbs and trees far beyond her and her sister and her empty rented house. Lydia stared at her back. Anything the sisters wished to share, anything left unsaid, remained unsaid. The house felt it too and bided its time. A seed, it thought, has been planted.

Mara was a senior at Montclair University, just up the road from 356. Her commute, which had been a near half house drive from Lyndhurst, was now a mere five-minute scoot from her driveway to the overstuffed parking lot outside the business building. She spent most of her week cooped up in front of a computer, or in the back of her fashion and business courses, popping nicotine gum against the roof of her mouth and texting the ever populated group chat. Her conversations at school usually consisted of monotonous recollections of previous discussions, retellings of stories everyone had already heard before, and, currently, a room-by-room explanation of her new rented home. The audience of other fashion business majors, a gaggle of messy buns and Greek noses and perfectly manicured hands, listened with varying degrees of interest. At the mention of an overgrown but roomy backyard, one of the messy buns who Mara thought was named Cindy let out a happy gasp and said,

“You should throw a party.”

“What?” Mara responded, unable to fight off a smile of interest.

“A party, dude. Housewarming, you know,” Cindy said, “Drinks and gifts and shit. And if you’ve got as much room as you say you do you can probably host like, half the school.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Mara said.

#my writing #writeblr #memoir #horror #fiction #these are for class and i hate both of them

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emmerrr · 7 years

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♥ for andreil plz :) love your writing btw

Anonymous said:♥ for andreil just bc I find it really ooc but want to see it anyway….

Anonymous said: ❤️ for andriel? 😘

♥: Reacting to the other one crying about something

I bet you guys wanted me to go angsty with this one. (spoiler alert: I didn’t ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

(please don’t send me anymore now, I have plenty!)

Neil, it turns out, is a sentimental drunk.

If sober Neil is ready to roast anyone at the slightest provocation, then drunk Neil is just the same, except with compliments instead. Because Neil is only ever drunk around his Foxes, all of whom he is so full of love for that it has to have an outlet at some point.

Currently, they’re in the girls’ room, sans the baby Foxes (because honestly, fuck the baby Foxes), and the night is winding down. Andrew has spent the majority of the evening watching Neil’s cheeks get rosier and rosier, listening to the laugh that his friends can coax out of him so much easier when he’s been drinking.

Kevin took himself off to their suite a little while ago, and as Andrew notices Neil stumble for the umpteenth time, he thinks it best they call it a night as well.

“Neil,” he says, and Neil looks up immediately from where he’s half-perched on the arm of the sofa next to where Matt is sitting.

He smiles dopily. “Andrew.”

“I’m going back,” Andrew says. “Did you want to stay?” He’d rather Neil come with him now, of course, but their room is only two doors down and Neil is free to do what he likes.

He likes Andrew though, is the thing, and Andrew knows this all too well.

“Nah, I’m tired,” Neil says, slurring a little. “I’ll come with you.” Then he grins and drapes an arm over Matt’s shoulder and leans his cheek on Matt’s head. “This is the guy, right here. This is the guy.”

“What guy?” Andrew asks as Matt bursts out laughing and pats Neil’s hand affectionately.

“Just… just the guy, Andrew. Matt’s the guy.”

“Andrew, take your boy home. He’s drunk,” Allison pipes up from the other end of the sofa, and that, everyone can agree on.

It takes some gentle prying to get Neil to let go of Matt, but eventually he does and instead clings to Andrew’s hand as he’s led from the room. He calls out his adorations and goodnights to everyone else who chorus back with just as much love and affection, but then as soon as the door closes behind them, it’s blissfully quiet.

Or it is until Andrew gets Neil back to their suite.

“I’m going for a run in the morning,” Neil blurts loudly when Andrew lets go of his hand. “I’m gonna go for the best run ever.”

“I think you might want to reassess that decision when you wake up. And keep your voice down, Kevin’s sleeping.”

“Oh noooo,” Neil says with drunken sarcasm, and starts giggling.

Andrew wouldn’t normally care, but everyone suffers when Kevin doesn’t get his beauty rest, and he quickly shepherds Neil into the bathroom.

It takes longer than it should to cajole Neil into brushing his teeth, and longer still to get him changed into his PJs. Neil is next to no help and instead gazes at Andrew with unabashed adoration.

It’s only tolerable because Andrew is otherwise distracted by his task at hand.

Mercifully, like all trials and tribulations, it comes to an end and Neil finally settles in his bed, falling asleep almost immediately. How Kevin remained asleep through the entire ordeal is little short of a miracle, but Andrew supposes Kevin had his own fair share of drinks tonight.

As Andrew gets himself ready for bed, his overriding thought is that Neil is going to be in a world of pain in the morning. And a hungover Neil is – well, it’s an experience that Andrew is still learning to navigate.

It’ll be a long day.

Andrew’s the first to wake up, as he knew he would be.

He quietly climbs out of his loft and pads to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. Kevin and Neil are definitely going to need some, and so is Andrew if he’s going to have to put up with their shit.

He’s made his way through one cup and two cigarettes up on his desk by the window before Kevin stumbles out and into the bathroom, nothing more than a grunt in Andrew’s direction to acknowledge his presence.

In fairness, once Kevin’s out of the shower he seems considerably more refreshed and when he’s dressed he pours himself a cup of coffee and perches next to Andrew on his desk.

“What time did you and Neil come back last night?”

Andrew shrugs. “About an hour after you.”

“Did Neil get any drunker than he was after I left?”

“Yes,” Andrew says with a sigh, and Kevin cracks a smile. “What are you doing today, anyway?”

“Coach is picking me up in twenty. We’re grabbing brunch.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow. “Father-son bonding?”

Kevin looks away, sheepish. “Something like that.” He redirects. “What about you guys, any plans?”

Neil chooses that moment to let out a colossal pained groan from the bedroom, one that sounds an awful lot like, “Huuuurnghhhh.”

Andrew jerks his head towards the source of that sound. “I’ll be dealing with that all day.”

“Ha. Rather you than me.”

Kevin leaves soon after and Neil’s yet to actually emerge from his pit. Andrew considers just letting him sleep it off, but at a certain point Neil will have to start re-fuelling. And sleeping all day will just throw off his body clock, and the little Exy junkie won’t like that.

Andrew hops down from his desk and heads to the bedroom to pick up his car keys. “Get up, Neil,” he says, and throws the curtains wide open. Neil practically hisses and curls further in on himself.

All Andrew can see is a tuft of auburn curls sticking out the top of Neil’s duvet, and he sits on the mattress next to him.

“I’m gonna head out and grab some food, and while I’m gone you should really get up and shower.”

Neil grunts.

“You’ll feel better,” Andrew adds.

“Just leave me here to die,” Neil says hoarsely.

“Okay,” Andrew says matter-of-factly. “But if I get back and you’re still in bed I’m not sharing any of my food with you.”

The duvet shifts down a little and one of Neil’s eyes peers out accusingly. “You don’t mean that,” he says.

“Try me.”

Neil pokes his whole face out now, goes wide-eyed and full on pouts. Because hungover Neil is an unapologetic drama queen.

Andrew gets to his feet, keys in hand, and makes for the door. “Those puppy-dog eyes don’t work on me,” he says, which isn’t true at all, actually, and is part of the reason he’s leaving so abruptly.

He’s a little longer out than he means to be because he can’t decide what to get. Comfort food seems best, but it’s a toss-up as to whether or not Neil will actually be able to keep anything down. He gets some juice and gatorade, and a smorgasbord of food that Neil can choose between. He detours to Dunkin’ Donuts on the way back because Neil likes their coffee, and Andrew likes their donuts.

When he gets back to Fox Tower, the figure on the sofa is one that much better resembles Neil Josten than the goblin who was occupying his bed this morning. Neil’s clearly heeded Andrew’s advice and showered because his hair still looks a little damp, and he’s dressed in clean sweats and a long sleeved tee.

He’s also watching a movie, and as Andrew drops his shopping bags onto the kitchen counter and sees what movie it is he sighs.

“Neil, no,” he says, exasperated. “You are far too emotionally fragile to be watching The Fox and the Hound right now.”

“It’s just a cartoon,” Neil grumbles back. “How bad can it be? The little fox’s mom already died, can’t get worse than that.”

He’s got no idea. Not even Andrew is unaffected by The Fox and the fucking Hound.

Neil’s not to be swayed, and although he decides he can’t eat anything yet, he gratefully accepts the coffee. Andrew wraps a blanket around Neil’s shoulders before sitting next to him, and he steadily starts to make his way through the donuts.

Every so often, he sneaks a glance at Neil out of the corner of his eye, but Neil remains huddled in his blanket, eyes on the screen. Transfixed.

The dreaded scene approaches, and it’s hard to watch even though Andrew’s seen it before and knows what’s going to happen.

On screen, as Tod the unsuspecting fox gets driven out to the woods and the sad little goodbye song starts to play, Neil goes suspiciously quiet.

And then, as the old lady drives away and Tod sits all alone and it starts to rain, Neil lets out a telltale sniff.

Andrew looks at him.

Neil’s eyes are swimming with huge-ass Ghibli tears, his lower lip wobbling helplessly in a way that tells Andrew he’s trying really hard not to cry.

It’s the cutest shit Andrew has ever fucking seen and it pulls on every single one of his heartstrings.

“Neil,” Andrew says in the softest tone he has, and Neil looks around, blinks, and two tears drip down his face in quick succession.

“She just – left him?” Neil asks, breath hitching in the middle.

“Yes. But it’s supposed to be for his own good.”

“But he doesn’t understand that,” Neil says thickly.

“No,” Andrew says, and he reaches out a hand and brushes some of the hair out of Neil’s face. “Not yet.”

Neil sniffs again and looks back to the screen. More tears queue up.

Hungover Neil, it’s important to note, can get very weepy.

“Neil, come here.”

Neil moves instantly, nestling into Andrew’s side, and Andrew wipes the tears from Neil’s face with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

“You’re a mess, Josten,” he says.

“Leave me alone,” Neil whines. “I’m delicate today.”

Andrew almost snorts. “Delicate,” he repeats derisively. But it is hard to argue with that assessment when he has a still snivelling Neil tucked under his arm, crying over a Disney movie.

A very sad Disney movie, sure. But still.

They stay that way for the remainder of the movie, Neil’s legs draped over Andrew’s, fist clutched loosely in Andrew’s shirt. There’s a couple more silent tears before the end, but Andrew dutifully wipes them away.

By the time Kevin returns, Andrew has managed to gently bully Neil into eating something. They’re still on the sofa, Neil with a gatorade clutched between his hands. He’s no longer quite as pale as he was first thing, but he’s still clingy as hell and Andrew doesn’t mind at all.

“Afternoon,” Kevin says brightly to Neil, because he loves it when people are more hungover than he is.

“Fuck you.”

Kevin laughs and as he’s walking past he spots the DVD case on the coffee table.

“You watched this today?” he says incredulously. “But it’s so sad!”

“I know,” Neil says, a slight waver in his voice. Andrew shoots Kevin a pointed look that he hopes conveys a silent request to stop talking immediately. To no avail, however.

“Oh man,” Kevin continues, “that bit when she takes Tod out and leaves him in the woods…” He trails off when he sees that Neil has hidden his face in Andrew’s neck, shaking with tiny little sobs.

“Nice job, Kevin,” Andrew says drily, stroking Neil’s hair soothingly. “Real fucking smooth.”

“Ah. Oops.”

A/N: I’m really hoping everyone has actually seen The Fox and the Hound but on the off-chance you haven’t, first of all you SHOULD, and second of all, this is the scene I mentioned.

#the foxhole court #andreil #tfc fic #tumblr prompts #tfc

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berry-uglyduckling · 6 years

Text

Welcome Home|Finchel

Summary: Finn returns to New York from a harrowing trip to Lima [smut]

After an incredibly long day of driving, Finn was finally within city limits. The week he spent at his mom's had been torturous and he was more than ready to be back with his wife. He knew he may have been more sensitive to the situation than need be, but he had put up with a lot until he finally just decided things would be better of without him there. He was beginning to wonder if it were his presence that stressed everyone out. With his bag in hand, he walked up to the apartment and opened the door. He stepped in and dropped his bag, calling for Rachel excitedly.

Rachel had been tucking freshly cleaned sheets in when she heard the door open, then her name. She'd hurried to get things washed when he said he was halfway home, bribing Noah with leftover lasagna for his help. Finn’s homecoming was bittersweet - they both wanted it but it meant descension amidst his family and Finn feeling less than as a result. All she wanted was for him to feel welcome somewhere, and she felt home was the best place for it. Dropping the comforter, she rushed through the apartment and wrapped both arms around him. “Finally.”

He wrapped his arms around her and picked her up as they hugged. “I missed you so much.” His lips found hers in a passionate kiss.

Rachel's eyes began to water but she held the tears back, her happiness trumping them. “I missed you.” Her hand moved to caress his cheek as they kissed, a sigh passing between them when her lips parted. It'd been just a week but one too long to have not been kissed like that.

“I never wanna be away from you again.” he felt like he could hold her there all day.

“That we can agree on, especially since I've been so lonely without you.” Rachel gave just enough space to guide him to the sofa where she could snuggle with him properly. “I haven't slept much either. The bed is too big and cold.”

He sat down and pulled her into his lap. “I didn't sleep very well either. I hate being away from you.” he gave her another kiss.

Rachel wondered how much of his restlessness had been the result of familial stress but didn't want to put him in a bad headspace. Especially when he'd just broken free of Lima and the vitrial aimed at him. “You're home now. You can be as close as you want and need and I'll be right here.”

“Good.” he smiled. “I almost wish you had school off tomorrow so we could spend all day together but I'm just feeling particularly selfish with you right now.”

“I only have school tomorrow, no work. We can spend most of the day together after I get back.” Rachel rested her head on his shoulder. “And if that is selfish, I guess we both are because I'd like nothing more than to lock the door and just stay here, together, for a few days.”

He gave her another kiss. “I'll go talk to the school and let work know I'm home again tomorrow morning. Then we can just hang out all afternoon.”

Rachel was worried about his standing in both places at this point. But worries were for another time. She wasn't going to waste these moments now that she had him back. “That sounds like the best plan I've heard in awhile.”

“for now.. I should probably shower before we get too comfy.”

Rachel shook her head, the intention to prolong his stay, right where they were, a half-hearted one. “And if I want you right here for now? What do you say to that?” A lazy smile took hold as she leaned in, her lips soft against his.

He chuckled, kissing her back sweetly. “You're the one who's gotta smell me.” he joked.

“That doesn’t bother me at all. Manly musk around here has been sorely missed.” Rachel slid her fingers through the ends of his hair, not caring whether or not it was dirty. “I will only take up a few minutes of your time, then you can go get clean.”

“I can handle that.” he grinned. “I love you so much.”

Rachel couldn't look away from him, his smile making her heart flutter in the most pleasantly familiar way. “I love you too.”

“I feel so much better being here with you. You just make me happy.”

Rachel was gentle with each touch - to his face, his neck - and each kiss. “I want that for you. Right here and now, nothing is hard and you are so loved and appreciated. And wanted.”

Finn hated that he needed to hear that right now. Rachel was well aware of his family turmoil so she knew just what to say. “Thank you baby.” he said quietly. “I wish everyone felt that way.”

Rachel sat up to face him, her lips touching his in what she hoped was a meaningful, comforting kiss. “They will once the dust settles. Well, they won't feel it the same as I do but that's only because no one in the world loves you as much as me.” Taking his hand, Rachel held it to her chest. “You're my whole heart, Finn. Always. I could never feel any less than I do now.” She left a tiny kiss on his forehead before she let her own rest there.

He ran his hand along her back as she spoke and he smiled. “I love you so much.. You have no idea.” he said quietly.

“I don’t know. You tell me quite often so maybe a little idea.” The slight tension in her body eased when she saw his smile, something she’d been looking forward to all week long. He actually seemed somewhat at peace, like the weight of all his family’s problems had been lifted to some degree. “And I’m always open to hearing how much.”

“Good, because I love telling you how much I love you.” He gave her another kiss. “I really never thought I would ever be this.. Crazy in love in my life.”

Rachel blinked furiously, her emotions taking hold. “You keep saying those sweet things and I’m going to become very weepy. Good weepy, since I’m that in love with you too, but I know how much you love me crying.” Rachel leaned forward, her cheek resting against his shoulder. “For the record, I never thought I’d feel this way either. You changed everything for me.”

“I don’t mind it when they’re happy tears.” He said with a chuckle. “You changed everything for me too, baby. Moving forward, you’re the only person I need.”

A slight sadness settled in Rachel's heart. His family could be so cruel, and the fact they made him feel so out of place hurt her more than the rejection of her own parents. How could anyone not love him? His kindness and loyalty alone should've been more than enough - it was for her and she was worth ten of Kurt Hummel. “I'll always do my best to give you what you need. As your wife and your best friend.”

“You already do.” He said with a nod. “I think I just needed to close that chapter on my own.”

Rachel's gestured mimicked Finn's, her head bobbing. “You need to be happy and your choice to take steps toward that must've been difficult. But if it feels right to you, then it is and I'm proud of you for putting yourself first.”

Finn nodded his head “I mean, they’re still my family but I’m going to just let them do their thing more than ever.”

“I understand. You're not cutting them out but… you're moving on from the negative atmosphere. You just won't let them heap burdens on you then kick you when your down.” Rachel slid her fingers into his. “And I'm perfectly willing to take all that attention for myself.”

“I’m glad that you’ve been here for all of this or I would just look incredibly selfish. “ He said with a small laugh. “You get all of my attention either way.”

“True. I'm quite spoiled in that respect.” Her lips brushed his neck before leaving a proper kiss on their wake. “And you're the least selfish person I know. I'd have to set straight anyone who thought otherwise.”

“Well, I’m glad you can accept that kind of spoiled since I’m poor.” He joked.

“I've never needed things, just the way you love me.” Rachel nudged him with her shoulder. “Besides, you give me other… things. Much more valuable than money.” Her eye fluttered in a wink, her grin impossible to hide.

He smirked back at her “You choose sex over money? I like you.” He joked.

“I like you too. And the things you make me feel. Money just doesn't compete with that.”

He gave her another kiss then rest his forehead against hers. “Can we go shower and lay down now? I've missed our bed.”

“We can but if a little lovin’ is in your game plan tonight, we have to do it somewhere other than bed. Those sheets have to stay clean for at least one night.”

“I mean, of course sex is my game plan tonight. We can do it right here.” he said playfully.

“Oh? And are you going to woo me first or is it going to be a quick, dirty hookup you have in mind?” Rachel accentuated the question with a kiss. “Or am I going to need to seduce you?”

“I do like it when you seduce me… “ He grinned as he leaned in to kiss her.

Rachel had no real seduction plan but she always managed to improvise. Easing away from the kiss and out of his lap, she put a little distance between them by standing. “Hmm… how ever will I do that? Maybe…” Her hands moved down her body, caressing her breasts and her sides as they did. She lifted the hem of her top slightly, a peek of skin showing through. “Taking this off.”

Finn smirked as she moved, ready for anything. “That's a start.. “

Rachel pulled the shirt over her head, her hands moving on her body again as she shook out her hair for effect. “A good start, I hope.” She stepped towards him again, her knee nudging his before she turned and lowered into his lap again. “And this? Is this better?” She writhed subtly again him, her hips pushing the curve of her ass into him. Her hands reached for his and put them on her.

Finn watched her, biting his lip as she moved against him. His hands moved to her hips. “It's not gonna take much seducing… You’re so sexy.” he pressed a kiss to her back.

The truth was that too much seduction would likely speed the encounter up, a week apart leaving Rachel more than ready to be intimate with her husband. “Well, I like turning my husband on. But for selfish reasons. He does incredible things to my body when he's turned on.”

“It doesn't take much with you, baby.” his hand moved up her stomach to her breast. “I missed touching you so much.”

It was easy for Rachel’s mood to change from flirtatious and sexy to touched and emotional when Finn talked to and touched her the way he was. “I missed you, and this. Everything, really.” Her moan caught her off guard, Finn’s hands on her breasts sending pleasant sparks through her entire body.

“Turn around baby.” He whispered, wanting to kiss her.

Rachel moved quickly and without hesitation, her lips hungry for his. Her knees hugged his hips, her fingers sliding through his as her face hovetex inches from his. “And now what, Mr. Hudson?” She smiled, her nose nudging his.

He smirked as he pulled away just slightly so he could get his shirt off too. “Now, I just wanna feel my wife as close as possible.”

Rachel helped with his shirt, not that it was necessary, and undid his pants for good measure. “That I can give you.” The kiss was slow, Rachel's whole body molding to Finn’s as her lips parted. “There's nothing I want more.”

He kissed her happily, glad to just be back where he could hold her. A week wasn’t that long but for them.. It wasn’t ideal. “I can think of one thing I want a little more right now.” He said as he moved to push her pants down.

It took some shifting, but Finn managed to get Rachel out of her pants and she did the same for him. “You? I'm shocked.” Her whispering words were a tease, as was her hand as it moved between them. She didn't want to go too fast but she wanted to hear the familiar sounds of her husband's pleasure filling the room.

He leaned forward to kiss her as her hand moved between them. A small groan left him as her hand wrapped around him.

Rachel stroked evenly, letting the intensity build its own momentum as they kissed. “I can tell how much you missed me. Even with your visual aid.” Her teeth caught his bottom lip in a tug. “Does my hand feel as good as yours did when you watched us on camera, baby?”

Finn loved it when she talked to him like this. “Yours feels so much better, but I did love watching you on that video. You get me so fucking hard. “

“We'll have to do it again some time.” Rachel's fist moved slightly faster, her kisses becoming sloppy before she moved them to his neck. “I liked doing that with you, having a little fun.” Carefully, she stopped pumping to tease herself with him, and to let him feel what he was doing to her. “Just thinking about it has me so wet for you.”

“Did you have fun making that?” he asked with a smirk. He didn't want her to stop stroking him but he knew he couldn't take too much more. When she stopped, he moved his hand to her breast again. “I love feeling how wet you get for me.” he whispered. “How do you want it?”

Rachel could only offer a half-hearted nod to his initial question, his fingers toying with her sensitive breasts making words impossible. And when he asked how she wanted it? All she could manage was lining him up with her entrance and sinking down slowly. Her face fell to his shoulder, a muffled cry passing her lips, as he filled her completely. She savored the feeling before she started rocking her hips.

He wrapped his arm around her to hold her close as she finally sunk down onto him. “I've missed you so much, baby.” he said softly.

Her hands cupped his neck, his breath warm on her lips when she drew up to look into his eyes. “I needed you, and this, more than anything.”

“I did too.” he kept his eyes on hers for a long moment before kissing her again.

Rachel was becoming overwhelmed by her emotions so she was glad when Finn kissed her. She held nothing back, her body moving beyond her control. Her moans were only stifled by the touch of his mouth to hers.

He groaned against her lips as she began to move harder on top of him. He pulled away enough to speak “I'm getting close, baby.”

“Touch me.” They were the only words Rachel could manage as she too moved closer to orgasm.

Finn moved his hand between them so he could press his thumb to her clit, his own control subsiding as he came undone.

The feel of Finn’s fingers and his release was enough to push Rachel over the edge. As she came down, her body went slack as she leaned against him. “I'm more convinced than ever that we shouldn't be apart that long again.”

He wrapped his arms around her loosely, his hand running along her back. “No more being apart.” he agreed. “I really can't believe I agreed to it in the first place.”

Rachel laid her head on his shoulder, her fingers moving along his arm in an attempt to be soothing. “You were trying to do the right thing, which is one of the things I love most about you. I'm just glad you're back with me now.”

“I am too, baby. I just wish I could have worked things out so everyone could be happy. At least this way, I know that you’re happy and I’m happy.”

Rachel sat up again, taking his face in her hands. “You can't make everyone happy, not even us all of the time. But know that, even on my worst days, I'm glad to have you to come home to. Seeing you smile is worth more to me than an audience full of applauding, adoring fans.”

“You’re the best, baby.” He smiled, giving her another kiss. “I really just love you so much. You made being there so much better.”

“Lima was always better when I was there. I gave it a little of my star quality.” The kiss caused Rachel's fingers to knit through his hair. He could keep on kissing her like that all night and she'd have been happier than she had in weeks. “I just wanted to be there for you just like I know you would for me.”

“I appreciate it a lot, baby. Your support means everything in the world to me.” He rest his forehead against hers with a happy sigh. “I’m pissed I have to go back to normal life tomorrow though.” He joked.

Rachel understood his irritation, as lighthearted as he made it sound. Even with its drama, Lima was a place to bury their heads in the sand. All of their New York responsibilities ebbed and they could just… be. “Normal life is so hard. Especially when your wife is naked.” Rachel wiggled a little as a tease. “How do you survive?”

“It’s gonna get real hard if you keep that up.” He said playfully.

Rachel's eyebrow drew up at the arch, her grin revealing her amusement at his double entendre. “The real question is if you want it to.” Rachel kissed him, her teeth scraping his lip. “Do you want it to get hard?”

He groaned against her kiss “For you, always.”

Rachel hadn't intended for things to take this turn, but she didn't hate that it had. Intimacy was always a good place for them. She'd spent a lot of emotional energy worrying if that was a bad thing in the beginning, like sex was their crutch. But she'd learned that it was good that they could be so comfortable with each other, and that it was truly a symbol of their bond that affection came so naturally. She’d also come to realize that it didn't always have to be that deep - sometimes it was fun stress relief. “Well… then I want it now.” Her lips moved to his ear. “I want it like the bad girl from the tape.”

Finn moved his hand up her back “I’ll give it to you, baby. Can I take you to the bed or right here?” He asked, knowing she didn’t want to get the sheets dirty already but it was hard for him to do a lot on the couch.

Rachel bit her lip, knowing just how limited the sofa space was. “Bed.” They'd just have to do it on the comforter.

He stood up with her in his arms, almost falling back but he managed to carry her to the bedroom and set her on the bed with a smirk as he crawled over her. He pressed kisses up her stomach, then to her breasts where he took his time.

Rachel worried when he fumbled a little getting off the couch, but all concerns disappeared when his lips found her skin. He always favored her breasts, small as they were, because his kisses there were her weakness. She moaned quietly and tried to keep still, though her slight writhing betrayed her.

His lips wrapped around her nipple as he sucked on her skin. He wanted to pay more attention to her chest, but he figured he would get to the point. He brought his lips to her neck as his hand moved between her legs.

Rachel would have objected to his lips moving from her chest had they not found the sweet spot of her throat. Him stroking her also would get no complaint. Her hips pressed against his hand, Rachel powerless when it came to his touch.

He worked his lips on her neck until he had left a small mark, one that would likely be gone in the morning but it was worth it to him right then. Looking down at her, his hand fell to her chest again. “I don’t know how I went without touching you for a whole week.”

Rachel wanted to be marked but she appreciated that Finn was conscious of the fact that eyes were constantly on her at school. And though no one said it, decorum and presentation was important. “I missed it so much.” Her hand managed to scrape along his back, her nails pressing marks into his skin. “Your hands, your mouth. It's all so good.”

“Did you think about it while I was gone? Did you touch yourself thinking about me?” He asked with a smirk as he moved between her legs, teasingly rubbing his tip against her.

Rachel's body arched as Finn teased her, her everything flashing hot. “Every night. I wanted you here, fucking me how I imagined.” She practically whined at the thought of how good he felt. “It made me so wet, thinking about you inside me.”

“I loved watching you touch yourself for me… It’s so sexy, baby. And the things you did for me in the video.. I watched it every night, wishing I could come home and fuck you.” He slowly pushed into her.

Rachel's hand clutched in the comforter as he entered her. Drawing both legs together, she twisted her waist and rested her ankles against his shoulder. “I love when you watch me that way.”

His hand moved to her leg to hold her as he began to pump his hips into her. “I have the hottest wife in the entire world, so it’s not hard to get off on you.”

Rachel could feel the depth of every thrust in this position and it drove her crazy. The pillow muffled her sounds, which were getting loud, and she barely managed to keep her eyes open long enough to meet his. “Having a husband as good, and big, as you gets me off every time. God, baby, you fuck me so good.”

Finn made his movements deep, the position they were in making it feel even better. His thrusts grew harder as he neared the edge. “Fuck, Rach… I am so close.”

Rachel was glad to hear it, her own body beginning to give way to climax. Letting her legs fall away, she slid her hand over her belly then began to touch herself knowing it would do them both in. “Cum for me, baby. Just for me.”

Watching her touch herself always made him lose control, especially knowing it was going to make her orgasm. He moved his hips harder into her until he came undone, spilling into her with a low groan.

Rachel came, her whole body uncoiling as she felt Finn’s release. She almost felt disoriented when she finally started to come down, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Damn…” She swept her bangs off her face. “That was good.”

He dropped her legs and moved over her so he could kiss her. “Better than good. Amazing.” He smiled.

“That's because you're amazing.” Rachel smiled back at him, bothered by her own cheesiness. “You always are though.”

“You always are too.” He gave her another kiss before moving to lay beside her. “I’m so happy to be in our bed again.” He wiggled happily.

“It has something, doesn't it?” Rachel turned into him, the cuddle necessary in her book. Especially after a week. “Just think. Once we shower, there are fresh sheets waiting under this comforter. Like the perfect welcome home.”

He wrapped his arm around her and chuckled “Okay, message received. We gotta be clean before we meet the sheets.”

“We don't have to. But it always feels soft and cool between a shower and clean sheets.”

“You’re right, baby.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s go shower.”

Rachel almost protested getting up but she liked the closeness of their little shower. She'd end up in his arms, like always, so she pushed herself to move from her comfortable spot next to him. But only after a few more blissful minutes. “Okay.”

He got up and stretched slightly as he walked to the bathroom and turned the water on. He stepped in and sighed as the water fell over him. He had been wanting a good shower all day, and it would be made even better with his wife.

Rachel hung back long enough to let Finn enjoy the warmth and relaxation of the shower before stepping in behind him. “Feel better?” She kissed between his shoulder blades before grabbing body wash and gently rubbing it into his skin. “You've had a long day.”

Finn smiled as he felt her hands on him. “Driving can be draining.” he agreed. “It was worth it to get home to you faster though.”

“I think so too but I also know you’ve earned a little TLC from your wife.” Rachel smoothed her hands up his down his back, massaging the lowest part a little. She didn’t want to get to involved - massages usually turned him on - but she wanted to give him what she considered much needed attention.

“I appreciate it, baby. You're the best at helping me wind down after stressful days.” he rest his hand on the wall, enjoying the feeling of her hands on his back and the warm water above him.

Rachel wished his days didn’t have to be so stressful, that everyone who claimed to love him at least tried to help him in that respect. “I think that’s the warmth of the shower talking, sir.” But she smiled to herself, glad that she was able to bring him solace of any kind.

“Your massages help.” he said with a small laugh.

Rachel chucked at the sound of his laugh. “Is that because they put you in the mood or because they actually take away stress in other ways?”

“Hmm.. A little bit of both.” He turned around so he could wrap his arms around her.

Rachel smiled and reached to kiss her husband as he folded her against him. “Always happy to help, my love.”

He gave her a kiss “I'm kind of nervous to go talk to work tomorrow.. What if they found a replacement already?”

Rachel stroked his cheek. “Then you'll find another job. You're a hard worker with skills. That's why I'm sure they haven't replaced you.”

“Yeah.. I know there are other shops I could go to. I just started getting comfortable there, ya know?”

“I do.” Finn’s hair was damp from the shower but Rachel wasn't dissuaded from reaching up to push it away from his face. “Have you talked to your boss at all in the last week or so?”

“Yeah I did call him when you left to let him know I would be longer than expected. He seemed cool with it. “

“That's a good sign.” Rachel brought his forehead down to where she could kiss it. “I know you’re worried but try not to too much. Whatever happens, we'll get through it. Just like we do everything.”

He smiled as she kissed his forehead. “I just don't want to make things stressful again.”

Rachel wanted to tell him they wouldn't but she couldn't see the future. And Lima had taken its toll emotionally and financially. “I know. But think about this… we didn't fight once through this whole ordeal. Let that be a good sign.”

“That is true. Things stayed very peaceful through this. I'm glad, because I'm not sure how this would have gone with us fighting too.”

“It would have been more difficult, which neither one of us needed. I’m actually a little proud of us for managing to get through this without the extra tension.”

“I agree. Means we're growing.” he gave her another kiss before pulling away. “Should we get out?”

Rachel leaned back slightly, not wanting the water to wet her hair too much. “Probably. Especially since you’ve more than earned your place in those crisp, clean sheets.”

“I can't wait.” he smiled as he turned the water off and stepped out. He gave a towel to Rachel before he grabbed his own and dried off.

Rachel gladly took the towel and wrapped herself in it. “And, since it's your first night home, I'm sleeping in absolutely nothing. Your favorite.”

“You sure now how to make a guy feel welcomed home. “ he smirked as he walked into the bedroom. He fell to the bed with a happy sigh, opening his arms for her to join.

Rachel stood in the bathroom doorway, watching him with a smile. This was a moment when he reminded her of the boy she'd fallen in love with - carefree and a little silly. That boy had changed her, made it easy for her to let her guard down. A tear snuck up on her and she blinked it away as she dropped her towel and climbed in next to him. “It's only home because you're here.”

Finn wrapped his arms around her. “That's how I feel too, baby. Home is wherever you are.” he kissed her.

Rachel, after spending half her week alone in bed and the other half on the sofa, finally felt right cuddled up in Finn’s arms. “It feels likes it's been that way forever. I really don't know how I ever thought I was going to come to New York without you.”

“I don't know either…” He said with a small laugh. “But I'm glad we fought our way through that.”

“Me too.” Rachel's fingers trailed over his abdomen. “I know it's hard when we fight and I'd rather we not but… I'd rather have every day be hard with you than easy without.”

“I would too. I think the past two years is our testament of that.” he gave her a smile.” It's always worth it. “

Rachel sighed, thinking about how short those two years sounded. It all felt like a lifetime longer than that. “They are. It's funny how I had all these ideas about what a relationship was supposed to be in the beginning.” Her head shook slightly. “And how time’s taught me that rules don't make a difference. Just the person.”

“I think we've both had to learn how to compromise. It's good though, we know just how to make each other happy. We've hit our groove I think. “

“Which is a big deal because when you met me, I was all about getting my way.” Rachel knew she'd always be that person, but Finn was right - being with him had taught her that doing what was best for them was better than having her way about everything. And, usually, the compromises benefited her as much as them. “I do enjoy our grooves.”

“Well if anyone was supposed to come into your life to do the exact opposite of everything you wanted, it was me.” he joked. “Me too… when things are good, they're so good. “

“It was most definitely you.” Rachel placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Even when you're just being silly, you're right. The good times are the best ones.”

“Cause we love each other so much.” he gave her a kiss. “I'm so crazy about you.”

“I feel the same about you. All my heart is yours. Every second of every day, forever.”

“Good. Wouldn't want it any other way.” he smiled.

Rachel just looked on, his features holding her in a momentary trance. “Do you know how much I missed just seeing you smile?” His truest smile had seemed to dull while he'd been away, all his burdens apparent to her when he tried. The way he looked now was different, Rachel trying hard not to take credit for the change.

He gave her a kiss “You always make me smile.”

“I know. It’s self-serving, really.” Rachel’s lips moved easily with his, her own smile following the sweetness of their kiss. “Your smile is one of my favorite things about you. It’s hard to say where it falls on the list since it’s so long but it’s definitely on there.”

“You're being so nice.” he said softly, feeling so loved. “I wish I could ever tell you how much I love you.”

Rachel let a momentary silence fall between them, her gaze trying to convey meaning as his brown eyes held it. “You do. All the time. In words that I love hearing, and in other things. Like how you always take me places with vegetarian menus when we go out and tell me I'm your star.” The corners of her eyes burned, her lashes fluttering as she tried to hold back the tears. “You married me and promised I'd always have you here for me. It's all so much more than I ever thought I'd have. I feel… beyond loved.”

He smiled as she spoke “Well then I'm glad that you know. Cause you're the most important thing to me. “

“Than I’ve accomplished the top of my two main life goals. The other is a work in progress, one that is so much better because of you.” Rachel felt the deep shift of emotions, her tears rolling down her cheeks as she spoke. “I always knew I was destined for greatness, but it wasn’t until I met you that I knew what that really meant.”

He kissed her cheek to wipe the tear away.

“I'm sorry we are getting so deep and emotional. I just have felt so grateful and even more in love with you for everything.”

Rachel’s head shook slightly. “Don’t be sorry for that. Never be. It feels good to get a little emotional in a good way. And I love that we have the kind of relationship that runs deep enough that it can feel like this.”

“Good.” he said with a small grin. “Cause we have had this cheese thing down lately.”

Rachel’s lips perked up, her eyes smiling along. “We’ve always been pretty good at that. You especially. I think you like to play to the fact that I’m a romantic at heart. It benefits you greatly.”

“I had to get good at it to please you.” he teased, giving her a kiss. “You loved to be loved.”

“I do, but mostly because you made me understand it was possible. By the time you got to me, I was convinced that no one would love me like this. Now I know that you’re the only one who ever could.”

“And I always will.” He smiled in response. “I can't imagine a life without you. Obviously, I can't even imagine a week without you.” He joked.

“I am fabulous.” Rachel giggled, then remembered a time when she had to say such things so loudly and so often to get anyone to believe they were true. With Finn, she’d always known their truth, even before she believed the words being directed at her from another person. It was so simple with him. So easy to have faith that someone looked at her with beauty and wonder in mind. “And you’ll hopefully never have to spend a whole week without me again. I know I wouldn’t like that much at all.”

“I wouldn't like it at all. I'm like clingy and stuff.” he gave her a playful smile.

“You really aren’t.” Though, their desire for closeness and the level to which they snuggled probably came off that way to some. But Rachel didn’t care. “Clingy would be like… following me to work, or sitting in my section for half my shift. Having to be with me when I spent time with friends. And you don’t do those things. I like to think I don’t either.” Rachel took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. “We like being with each other. That’s all.”

“I’m not a stalker on top of it.” He said with a laugh. “I think it’s a good thing we like to spend so much time together. We love each other.”

“We do. And it enhances all facets of life, makes everything better.” Rachel sighed, the happiest feeling spouting in her chest. “So if that's clingy, who cares? I'll go on the roof and shout it to the city. That's how much all this means.”

He chuckled “I agree. There’s nothing more important in my world than you, so I don’t have a problem at all with the way things are.”

“You have all my love, plus a comfy bed, food, and nudity. That's a pretty good life, if I do say so.”

“Exactly. What more could I possibly ask for?”

Rachel played at consideration. “Uhm… a puppy?”

“A dog would be cool.” He laughed, “But I don’t think we’re able to have one with our schedules.”

Rachel shook her head. “Definitely not. Poor thing would be cooped up all day and that's not fair. Plus, dogs require money. The best we could hope for is a goldfish at this point.”

“Maybe someday we’ll be able to wind down enough to have a dog and kids and stuff.”

“I could see a dog in our future family. Maybe a kitty too. I always wanted one but my dad never went for it.”

“We could probably get a cat now, right? They’re kind of low maintenance.”

Rachel's eyes widened. “Usually. They eat and sleep. Roam the house a little. But they don't need walks or anything like that.”

“I don’t see why not then if it’s something you want.” He shrugged.

“Really?” Rachel curled up tight, snuggling into Finn and placing her lips on his cheek. “I think I'd really enjoy that. Have a little friend who will wait with me for you to come home.”

“Of course, baby. We can go look at an animal shelter sometime this week or after I get another paycheck so we can make sure we can get everything we need for one.”

Rachel's whole face scrunched up in a gleeful expression. “Let's wait on your check and take care of bills first but...yay. I'm excited.”

“Yeah, stupid bills.” He scoffed. “Good. We’ll look into it soon.” He gave her a kiss.

“I get my husband home and the possibility of a kitty all in one day. You have the happiest woman on Earth in your bed.”

“Oh good.” He laughed. “I love that it will make you happy. I’ve never really been a cat person, but I think it would be fun.”

Rachel's spirits fell ever so slightly. “As long is it won't make you unhappy. Because it's important that you're comfortable too.”

“That won't make me unhappy.” he shook his head. “It's just a cat.”

“Even if I get a little crazy and give it lots of love and attention? I wouldn't want you to feel neglected.” Rachel poked his side, a wink and a kiss.

“I can't deny that I'll get jealous.” he laughed. “But I love seeing you happy.”

Rachel didn’t need a cat to be happy, especially not when Finn had a way of making her exceedingly so whenever he liked. Still… she wanted what she wanted and a sweet cat was on that list. “You spoil me.”

It wasn't often that Finn felt like he could spoil her with more than love or the occasional night out so he was excited to do this for her. He gave her a kiss “You deserve it.”

Rachel didn't let the kiss pass so easily, her lips lingering on his. And when she couldn't breathe, she broke just long enough to grab air before kissing him again. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being the best wife in the world.” he gave her a crooked smile. “I honestly don't know how I'm awake right now.”

“It's my breasts. They've kept you distracted.” Rachel snuggled in again, content to let him sleep. “Rest now. And you'll get pancakes in bed tomorrow.”

“I can't deny that.” his hand moved to her breast as he cuddled her closer. “Okay okay. I love pancakes in bed.” he said with a yawn.

Rachel laughed but quickly quieted when he settled in. “And I love you.” She began to sing low, her voice barely a whispering sound.

He quickly fell asleep, his long day finally catching up with him as he drifted off.

#p: fh #p: welhom

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morebtsstuff · 7 years

Text

Pairing: Rap Monster (Namjoon) x Reader

Genre: First some angst, then fluff

Warning(s): None

Summary: High-school AU. Namjoon is your best friend and a senior in high school. The problem is, you are not. He’ll be off to college and you’ll be stuck in your hometown while he leaves you behind. Unfortunately, you are not taking it very well. Even more unfortunately, he noticed right away.

A/N: This is my first fic and a rough draft, so please be nice to me >w< Also, I rushed it a little bc I’m hungry, but I wanted to finish. Welp. Enjoy,

This was like a test. You could say it was, but this test was similar to standardized testing, in which your patience, sanity, and ability to refrain from walking into oncoming traffic was tested. But the pain of a million standardized tests couldn’t compare to the pain you felt right now. Like a test, you knew it was coming, but didn’t bother to prepare yourself. Even if you had, you wouldn’t have been ready.

Kim Namjoon was your best friend. He’d been by your side when everyone else in the world hadn’t bothered. The two of you were transparent to the other, no emotion going undetected. Except maybe one.

Kim Namjoon was your best friend. He was a genius, and attractive to boot. He was a senior in high school, with acceptance letters to every college he had applied to. The problem was that your were not a senior. You told yourself you had another year to be with him, and that would be enough, when in reality, the duration of your friendship had not even been enough. His last year flashed by and here you were, a day before his graduation. You were undeniably happy for him, so why did your chest feel like it was collapsing? You were in love with him. Cliche, yes, but how could you not fall for your intelligent, attractive, and caring dork of a best friend. You loved everything about him, from his endless collection of Ryan plushies to the fact that he had managed to break nearly every pair of sunglasses he ever owned.

Here you were, losing him. He said he’d keep in contact, and you wanted to believe him, but what college student would want to keep contact with a little high schooler? Especially after he got to make new friends and new classes. There was no way he’d have time for you. The Kim family lived right next door. You’d perhaps see him on holidays, when he came to visit his parents. Perhaps he’d have a gorgeous college girl on his arm, not even sparing a glance at the younger girl he used to know.

The glittering night sky didn’t help your mood. The stars cluttered the indigo sky, its beauty irritating you. How could there be such beauty while you were here, on the roof of your home, feeling like the world was ending. It was 2:00 am and Namjoon still wasn’t home. You hadn’t yet seen the headlights of his beat up truck pull into his driveway and you wondered what he was doing at that party. He didn’t go to many. This one was an exception, in honor of his final days in high school. If this was any other day, he’d be with you in your room, throwing popcorn at each other and desperately trying to muffle your laughter, lest you wake your parents. You remember when he told you he’d be missing your movie night. He’d been grinning so widely, his cute little dimples mocking you. You remember forcing a smile the best you could, telling him to have fun.

A shooting star rolled across the sky. You closed your eyes to make a wish.

“Please, please, please, please, please…” You stop. What would you even wish for? For him to stay? No, he’d be miserable. For him to love you? No, that was impossible.

“I quit, I’m gonna live in a hole in the ground for the rest of my life,” you groan to yourself, glaring at the sky once more.

“Can I come visit?” a deep voice rumbled next to you. You squeaked, nearly throwing yourself off the roof.

“WHEN DID YOU–” his hand clamped over your mouth, avoiding waking the neighborhood. You ripped his hand off your face.

“When did you get here?” you whisper-yelled. He glanced at his watch.

“About five minutes ago.” Your eyes widened.

“Five minutes? And you just sat there?”

Namjoon smirked, “You were thinking so hard, I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you. What’s wrong, kid?”

You heart clenched. “Kid.” You really weren’t much younger, but you supposed he only saw you as that. A kid.

You lie on your back and struggle to compose yourself, “I didn’t see you pull in.”

“It wasn’t too far, I walked. My truck’s in the garage,” he said as he copied you. You nodded in understanding.

“I see.” There was an awkward silence. You didn’t like this. Silence between you and Namjoon wasn’t natural. It just didn’t happen.

He was the one to break it, “I’m still expecting an answer, you know.” You winced at your complete failure to avoid the question.

“I’m just tired. It’s 2 am, you know.”

He shifted next to you, “You’ve stayed up until 5 reading fanfictions. On school nights.” It was a bad idea to try to trick this guy, but you were in too deep.

“I don’t need much sleep.”

“You get up at 6:30.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life, Joon.” You inwardly cringed at how childish that came out.

“I didn’t wanna have to do this,” he said as he put his hands under his head, “I’d rather you tell me, but I guess I’ll just have to figure you out.”

“Joon, please, don’t,” you whisper weakly. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge your plea.

“You’re on your roof at 2 am. You only come up here when you’re sad, and you couldn’t sleep, probably because of that.”

“Joon, really.”

“You did well on your exams, so those aren’t the problem.”

“Joon.”

“The biggest even within a week’s radius is graduation tomorrow.”

“Joonie, please,” you plead for him to stop as you feel hot tears blur your vision.

“I’ll be going off to a college in Seoul, which is a pretty big distance from here, so–”

“Namjoon! Stop!” you yell at him, no longer caring about waking anyone. You sit up abruptly and make your way towards the roof of the garage, which was significantly lower than the one you were on.

“Y-Y/N, are you crying?” he asks softly in concern. You say nothing to him, not having a voice. You continue towards your way down.

“Y/N!” you hear him get up and come towards you. Quickly, you hop down to the garage roof, then onto your fence, then to the ground, Namjoon close behind. You couldn’t go back into your room, now. You climb the backmost fence and proceed into a field you and Namjoon liked to go to. Wildflowers sprouted throughout the vast field. The full moon illuminated the moisture on the petals that were getting your pajamas and bare feet wet, not that you cared.

“Y/N!” Your pace was no match for Namjoon’s. He quickly caught up to you and wrapped his arms around you. The tears flowed harder.

“Y/N,” he whispered, “You can talk to me. What’s wrong?” Your heart broke at how sad he sounded. Funny how you worried about his heart when he was breaking yours.

“You’re– You’re leaving me,” you choked out.

“What?”

“You’re gonna graduate, then go off to Seoul, and you’re forget about me, and I’ll be all alone, and I won’t be able to survive without you, I love you so much, I’ve loved you for so long–” he gasped, making your rambling come to a halt. He spun you around. You resisted and tried to hide your face. You’d rather he not see the snot and tears running down.

“Y/N, look at me.” You finally look up. He was beautiful. The moonlight illuminated his handsome features and his purple hair, courtesy of him losing a bet. His large hand cupped your face, his thumb wiping your tears.

“You love me?” he whispered. Your eyes widened. You did say that. Damn your rambling!

“Y-yeah, but it’s okay, I understand. I’m younger than you and I’m not that pretty, I’m sure you’ll meet some gorgeous college girls soon, but–” Your ramble was silenced by his plump lips on yours. Everything inside you went into overdrive and all you could do was stand there and let him kiss you.

He pulled away and whispered, “You’re the most beautiful girl in my life.” Really? You? The snotty, weepy girl in wet PJ’s was the most beautiful girl in his life?

“I’ll be far away, but love doesn’t have any physical boundaries. Besides, it’s not for too long. I’ll visit often. He pointed off in the distance, under the moon.

“See that magnolia tree?” You nodded. The tree was bare, quite ugly in contrast to its flower-laden counterpart.

“I’ll have two weeks off in spring. So, on some spring day, when those magnolias bloom, I’ll be back. Until then, use that to comfort you when you miss me.”

You tuck your head under his chin, where he places a kiss to the crown. Tears of sorrow are accompanied by tears of joy.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome. And, Y/N?” You hum lightly.

“I love you, too.”

#kim namjoon #rap monster #kim namjoon x reader #bts scenario #bts imagine #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fluff #bts angst #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff

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greyeyedbelle-blog · 7 years

Note

if you still want prompts! hinckman with a soulmate au? 💕

I’m so, so, so sorry this took so long, my dear! It got a lot…longer than I expected. I hope you still enjoy it, with my apologies.

The first time Ian met Kyle (nervous, shaking with first day jitters), it had seemed like the man was as nervous as they were. His limbs had hung limply, red staining his cheekbones, as he had stuttered out his name KyleBosmannicetomeetyou.

Ian had returned the greeting as cheerfully as they could (please like me oh god I just want my coworkers to like me a little) and had moved on to be introduced to the next person. Out of the corner of their eye, they saw Kyle’s whole body seem to droop, but didn’t know why.

After that, things fell into a pattern (unwanted but unwavering). Far from that first day, Kyle closed off. He spoke to Ian only in the language of snark, and that only when necessary. Most of the time, he didn’t speak to Ian at all.

Ian wondered if they had done something wrong. They got along relatively well with everyone else, and they wished Kyle would tell them what they did, and not just in a “kumbaya the office must be at peace” kind of way (though it wouldn’t hurt).

There was something about the way Kyle smiled when he was talking to Jones, about the way he interacted gently with Ben when it was clear Ben was feeling insecure, about the way he hid in his hoodie when he hadn’t slept in three days. There was something about the way his face and voice could be closed off, but he would wear his stress, or his happiness, on his shoulders. Something about how even when he was keeping his distance from Ian, he knew when to step in closer, to tell Ian to ignore comments, to make sure that Ian had eaten that day.

Ian desperately wanted to know him, and didn’t know why he couldn’t.

***

Kyle unfurled slowly, pulling Ian in on his projects and skits, starting to work on Mandatory Updates. His voice becomes less tight when he speaks to Ian, his eyes less shuttered. Ian sometimes feels like their heart is bursting with relief when Kyle turns to them, their voice softer than it ever has been, and suggests a line change.

Even still, the distance is still there. It’s a distance that’s not present when Kyle interacts with Jones, or Ben, or Huber, or Brad, or Elyse. They begin to walk an ever-growing tightrope of are they/aren’t they. One day they laugh and joke together over possible script changes for Mandatory Update, the next day Kyle pulls away from even the slightest brush against Ian’s shoulder.

It’s not just Ian who notices, which makes them feel better. Jones talks to Ian, to make sure it isn’t affecting the job. He knows Elyse has tried to feel out Kyle, pushing him to tell her why he can’t let whatever Ian did go. Neither conversation is productive in the least.

Still, Ian will take what they can get. Sometimes getting to be friends with Kyle is worth all the times that they are not.

***

On the last day, when it seems like the entire world is crumbling around them, Ian feels cold. Maybe, another day, it would have made them weepy, or angry. But for some reason, today, it just makes them feel numb. Their hands shake slightly as they set up for the final stream, their last hurrah as GameTrailers.

They are so focused that they don’t hear Kyle come up behind them, only feel his hands as he gently pulls them against him in a close side-hug. Ian allows their head to droop onto Kyle’s shoulder, unsure why Kyle is allowing this closeness.

Kyle is ashen, they notice, with a look in his eye that lingers close to despair, and yet still dances away from it, refusing to give into the impulse.

Ian wishes they could say the same.

After a long few moments, Kyle squeezes tighter, then lets Ian go. He lets Ian go to finish setting up with a whisper about how it’s going to be okay. He walks away, rubbing a spot just under his ribcage as though Ian had bruised him.

The stream makes Ian feel colder, as they see these people, the ones they consider friends, break into pieces. Ben and Brad both are hiding tears, and Ian wants to comfort them, but can’t figure out how to move. Every now and then, they glance at Kyle. There is sadness there, but hope.

Ian sits straighter and wills them all to be okay.

***

They rise again as the Easy Allies. In the beginning, it’s all giddiness—that they’re actually doing this, striking out on their own. Long days and long nights spent in Jones’ garage, figuring out timelines and budgets and technology and how to make their own thing work.

Lots of things have been let go in the transition; formalities that existed before, under the premise of a business or other reasons, become blurred. There’s no longer a real hierarchy, since they are equal co-founders, and so suddenly they all know a lot more about each other.

Jones lets them into his space constantly, shares everything he can with them. At GT, he was the boss; here, he’s a little bit like the dad-figure. He tells stories they’ve never heard before, about his early days in the industry. He wears worn-out tee-shirts, that slip every now and then to show the name on his collarbone, something he never allowed before. Sometimes Amanda comes in to their meetings, making them laugh and always kissing Jones sweetly and touching his collarbone before she leaves.

Huber, always free to give enthusiasm and physical affection, starts to allow for vulnerability. Ian sees him quiet, sees him soft and unsure. Ben grows into himself, steps into a more confident role, asks to moderate a show. Blood has them all over to his place, lets them meet his wife, becomes a true mentor. Brad is insecure about his place in the group, and every now and then needs to be shored up by the others. Damiani tries to talk them in to his role being off camera entirely, cowed by comments, but in the end steps up to the task.

And Kyle, well, Kyle is overworked and undercaffeinated, as always, but he starts letting everyone in more. He whispers with Ben, setting up moderation rules and confidences. He laughs more, gives more opinions, talks about his parents. He falls asleep during a long night against Ian’s shoulder. Ian doesn’t move for three hours, just revels in this newfound trust.

Everything is growing, one way or another.

***

t’s a stupid game that does it. Late one night, after a podcast, Huber and Ian are following up on their conversation to an L&R question about an “unrealistic plotline” in a middling game. It’s something about a soulmate’s mark and how it should be taboo to reimagine their context.

Huber is arguing that it shouldn’t be sacred, that as long as it is handled delicately, the soulmate mark plotline can be stretched as much as anything.

Ian agrees. They’ve never understood it, honestly, but then again, they’re destined to be alone.

Huber laughs, disagrees, says something about nihilism.

No, actually, Ian tells him. My soulmate died when I was two; my mark has been greyed out since then.

Ian hates the pity that he immediately sees overtake Huber’s expression, but he doesn’t have time to linger on it because Kyle had started and knocked over a stack of things on Jones’ table. When they both look up at him, he’s white and slightly shaking. Before anyone can say anything, he bolts out the door. Jones looks after him, the look on his face as sad as anything Ian’s ever seen.

***

Kyle avoids Ian for two whole weeks, except for Tuesday group stream, and Ian refuses to let it go on for longer, not after they were making so much progress. They show up at Kyle’s apartment, unsure, trembling, but ready for whatever the confrontation may be.

When Kyle opens the door, however, it’s not with confrontation, but with resigned acceptance. He lets Ian in, and when Ian apologizes for whatever it is they did, Kyle shakes his head, tells Ian that it isn’t their fault.

“Whose fault is it then?”

“Fate’s, I guess.”

That’s not an answer, and Ian says as such. Kyle sighs, and lifts his tee-shirt up to his collarbone. Ian’s eyes are immediately drawn to the mark on Kyle’s right side, underneath the ribcage. It’s a soulmark, but…

“You see, your soulmate is someone else, someone who died when you were two. Mine, well…mine is you.”

***

It’s weeks until they’re okay again. Ian doesn’t know what to do. They like Kyle, of course they do, might even like him romantically, but knows they can’t say anything now. Kyle will never accept it after the soulmark confession, will think it’s just Ian trying to make him happy.

It’s awkward, and challenging, especially since between the two of them, all of the other Allies either know or figure it out.

Slowly, but surely, however, it comes back together. It’s looks exchanged while at the tabletop table, scenes that happen in a game of Fiasco, friendly barbs during a group stream. It’s the way Kyle finally leans into Ian again when they are sitting next to each other. It’s their laughs intermingled.

It’s the way Kyle looks on camera, lying next to them in an Easy Update. It’s the way Ian can’t help but let their heart skip a little faster when he grabs their hand to drag them along. It’s the way Ian blushes when Kyle does something funny, or silly, or attractive, or…

It’s the way Ian falls in love with him, and swears at the universe for making it this way.

***

Ian wakes from a nightmare screaming, the memory of pain against their skin causing them to hiss. It doesn’t happen often, but every now and then they still have these hell-dreams, where everyone they know and love is hurt or killed.

Ian could have lived without watching Kyle hurt, even in their head.

Even though it’s too early, they force themself to the shower, hoping it will make them feel better. As they stand under the shower spray, they realize something is off. If it was a dream, why do their forearms hurt like they really had been burned in the nightmare?

Looking them over, there doesn’t seem to be a problem. No marks, no scratches, no….

No anything. No anything where there used to be a greyed out soulmark.

Ian feels lightheaded, drags themself out of the shower to the bed before they faint. Could soulmarks just disappear? How could that happen? Why could that happen?

They are halfway to a panic attack when they realize the burning feeling is also on their torso. On their right side. Under their ribcage.

They fly to the mirror, and they cry.

***

No one exactly knows how or why it happened. When Ian spoke with a soulmark expert, they had explained that occasionally, especially when a mark was greyed, the soul could decide to take on another mark. No one understood the trigger, or the biology involved, and it was extremely rare, but it did happen.

Ian liked to think their body, their soul, just finally got with program and recognized that they were supposed to be with Kyle. Or maybe it realized how much the greyed out mark had hurt Ian over the years, how the lack of match had devastated Kyle, in that time after they met, when he thought Ian was his soulmate and just rejecting him.

Or maybe, Kyle reminded them as he wound their fingers together, it happened just as it was meant to. It hurt, but the best things did.

Sentimental, Ian will tease, but will pull his soulmate closer.

#Uneasy Alliances #Writing #Prompt Fill #I hope this is okay!

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vvakarians · 7 years

Note

I'd love to know 1-32 about Calliope! :>

OH BOY MY DUDE, prepare yourself for all the info under the cut

1. What is their favorite word?

Uh, dragon, of course, at least I’m inclined to say dragon. In elvhen her favorite word would probably be “Enasal” or “Enasalin” which could mean victory in the latter or as the wiki says “joy in triumph over loss” for enasal. Just because those words mean a lot for her.

2. How do they sleep

I mean, not that great in one way this could go, but we’ll get into the how she sleeps first, physically at least. She’s always cold and leeches off everyones body heat so she always keeps a shit ton of blankets in her bed. Not only that but her bed is a four poster with the curtains hanging off of them to keep in the heat, you can imagine her favorite season is summer, also winter because everyone wants to be warm.

On the more emotional side of things, Callie doesn’t sleep very well at any point. As a child it was hard to sleep because of nightmares that her mother would be able to soothe, but her mother died when she was fairly young, after that nights are really the worst time. It only eases a little bit when she finally gets together with her partners, whether in canon with Solas, or with Halla in their au, or Isidoro in my combined canon au with Alexx. Especially after Here Lies the Abyss she can hardly sleep because of both the anchor and because of the dead that call to her at night.

3. Favorite companion

She wouldn’t really be able to choose if directly asked, even those she may not agree with she still loves in her own way for them. Her best friends are Cole, Sera, Dorian, Bull, and Varric though, out of the main companions, as well as Solas, because she romances him. Calliope adores all the advisors, including my Warden-Commander Mahariel who joins with Ophelia (my hawke) after Here Lies the Abyss.

4. What secrets do they keep, untold to anyone?

Calliope is pretty much an open book to anyone that is fairly close to her, but she has some secrets that aren’t widely known except to her twin brother and the Inner Circle. Shockingly the secret has nothing to do with being the reincarnation of Falon’Din, which was pretty hard to keep out of anyones way once the ball started rolling. No, it’s the fact that she has such a hard time feeling like she is needed for anything, that she feels much of what has happened in the world is her fault. She also mainly keeps her feelings about her gender to herself and only lets people know what pronouns they should use for her, and it’s pretty much not spoken about as to what her orientation is, but everyone knows she isn’t straight.

5. How do they feel about magic

Magic and the Inquisitor have a complicated history honestly. Both herself and her brother came into magic at the same time, Elessar accidentally froze Keepers feet to the ground while Calliope set a halla’s ass on fire and almost caused a stampede. She was not raised as a mage because of the high volume in her clan and they did not wish to be called upon by the Chantry, so Elessar was the one trained as a mage instead. Calliope was trained to be a Master and a Hunter, which she excelled at rather well; she was awarded the position of Protector of her fathers aravel when he went on excursions for trade.

During Inquisition she comes into her magic with mixed feelings, she really doesn’t pay too much attention for a while. The spells she knows are really only fire based and healing based, as well as being the most basic. She has no problem with magic really, as many of her friends and family are mages. There are a few times when Bull says shit about magic that she gets very defensive and upset, but aside from that there isn’t much until trespasser. Her thoughts on blood magic are even alright with it really, as long as it’s consensual to both parties if someone else is involved.

6. How do they feel about killing

She feels that it is a necessary evil, nothing more nothing less. If someone deserves to be killed than they will be. Callie tries to spare the innocent as much as she can. After all she is Falon’Din, so her views on death aren’t an end, and even without being Falon’Din she sees death as something that isn’t an end even if she grieves pretty heavily when someone dies.

7. How do they feel at night, in silence, all alone?

Badly, it’s all negative feelings all at once. She tries to keep away from this situation as much as possible.

8. Tell me about them in a modern AU

I actually have two of these for Calliope! In DA:I in a present day setting she’s still Inquisitor, at least eventually, but she comes from a farm/general store owning family from an elven town in the Free Marches. She’s trying to go to school in the city when the Temple of Sacred Ashes (a political summit in this au) gets blown to pieces, she was there to observe as part of a class she’s in for college, along with several other members of that class.

In a regular modern day au she’d still be a college student, probably going for a double major in Religion and History. Her twin brother is going to college for Forensic Sciences, and there’s a lot of coffee shop shit, and falling for a good looking Grad Student who works at the school library.

9. What is their favorite meal

Dalish Forest Comfort with Hearth Cakes!! I own the Dragon Age cookbook and it’s real good. Callie would love her cultures food even if other people would consider it to be plain.

10. What guides them

Their compassion for all people of Thedas tbh.

11. What hinders them

Feeling like she’s not good enough or that she will fail at every turn.

12. Do they have hidden talents

She can tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue, also she’s shockingly good with the stable creatures? And I say creatures because have you seen the Dracolisks?

13. How do they carry themselves

Calliope carries herself as a kind and easy going person, which gets some people thinking they can just walk all over her, where she quickly puts them back in their place. If they do it more than once she gets really angry, and no one wants to see the five foot tall reaver and reincarnation of falon’din angry.

14. What are their vices

Probably getting more angry than needed, and also she cries a lot but that’s not really immoral behavior?? She also won’t give mercy if she isn’t shown mercy. Calliope also hates no one except herself almost exclusively.

15. What was a turning point in their life

Honestly? The end of Trespasser. Calliope gets really hard for a while and bitter, thankfully raising Athim and focusing on helping people affected by Solas’ shit does give her back some softness that she lost.

16. Do they ascribe to any religion

Nope, she doesn’t believe in Andraste, nor does she believe in the Creators.

17. How do they react to trauma

Depends on what kind it is, but usually she shuts down first, then gets angry, or really really weepy and sad.

18. What is their relationship to their parents

Calliope adored both of her parents, her mom Imryll died when she was really young but she paved the way for a lot of good things that Callie strives for nowadays. Her dad was the saving grace in a lot of situations so she loves him very much, she gets very depressed when he dies. Elgar’nan and Mythal are another thing altogether, she gets defensive about Mythal, and angry towards Flemeth for claiming to be her. Her “father”? Well she doesn’t talk about him a whole lot.

19. Do they have siblings

Yep! She has one! His name is Elessar and he is her fraternal twin.

20. Tell me about their love interests

Well the egg is her love interest in canon, but in the Pure World State AU, @charlatanreyes ‘s Isidoro Rosetti is her husband, he’s an Antivan Enchanter who’s very good and lovely. The other is the kickass Halla Trevelyan from @lorspolairepeluche !!

21. What sexuality/gender suits them

Calliope is nonbinary and prefers they/them or she/her pronouns, her orientation is panromantic demisexual.

22. Tell me about their body, are they tall, or smol

Callie is very smol and stronk. Abs for days. She also has albinism.

23. What is their combat style and weapon of choice

SLASH AND HACK THEM, the bloodier the better, and her weapon is a Sulevin Blade with a master dragon slaying rune.

24. Do they have any fears/phobias

Calliope is afraid of uthenera/the long sleep, and failure.

25. Do they follow their instinct or hard facts

Instinct all the way, Calliope is very emotional and not a logical being at all.

26. How do they cope with sorrow

Not very well at all. Grief comes in large waves and she’s very empathetic unfortunately, even more than is healthy honestly. If it’s to a really severe level she’ll isolate herself for a long time because she doesn’t want to bother anyone at all with her feelings. If she’s pressed about it too she’ll flare up with anger, especially if she doesn’t know you very well.

27. What makes them burst out laughing

BAD JOKES. LIKE REALLY BAD JOKES. Also there was one time that Dorian showed up to a meeting with his mustache all fucked up and Calliope was very tired, she started going into a giggle fit that no one could cure.

28. Tell me about their grooming routine

Well really all she does is bathe and wash her hair/skin, she doesn’t have much time for anything else. But sometimes she’ll have moments with Solas or her other LI’s and take long baths with nice smelling oils.

29. What makes them blush

I MEAN, anything really, especially if her LI is teasing her. Honestly anything in front of other people will get her to blush really bad. Solas once kissed her full on in front of the group one morning in the Frostbacks, just a lazy kiss that he didn’t think much of and she was red for the full morning.

30. What makes them cry

Injustice and death, which often go hand in hand. Sometimes she’ll wake up during nightmares crying, and certain memories will trigger crying fits if she’s not careful.

31. Tell me about their aesthetic

Blood, golden sharp teeth, green lightning, big ass swords, ravens, cryptic sayings, dragons, and sleep. Also bear hugs.

32. If they had a tumblr, what would they post

Probably lots of positive posts and social justice things, book quotes, flowers. Honestly anything on dragons too and lots of adorable animals, some shit on history and certain videogame stuff too.

#long post #sorry that i got short at the end i got really tired and also had a panic attack for some reason #calliope lavellan #booker answers #meme-feline

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