#its ok i love it and am honored to be the victim | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jjmjjktth · 4 years

Text

Chapter 3: Firsts Lead to Seconds

Lady Papilion sent a butterfly to the Eiffel Tower at the arranged time. She could sense the apprihensiveness and destruction of the Black Cat hero. Guiding her butterly to land on Chat’s baton, she felt the weak mindlink for between the two of them. “Hello, Chat Noir, I am Lady Papillion, your partner.” Chat started at the sudden voice in his head.

“Lady Papilion? What miraculous do you hold, how did you get it, and why are you able to be in my head?” Chat questioned.

“I am the weilder of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Encouragement; the miraculous was put in my bag; and, the miraculous makes a mindlink for me to speak to you directly and give you power if we both agree.” She responded,”What miraculous do you hold and how did you receive it? I assume it has something to do with cats.” She decided to keep the fact that she knew so much about the miraculous a secret for now, she didnt trust him…. Yet.

“I am the wielder of the Black Cat Miraculous of Bad Luck and Destruction; the miraculous appeared on my coffeetable; and I can destroy anything with a touch.” Chat stated with the same amount of formality.

“We must discuss a plan for dealing with Paeon; maybe patrols of something like that. We will also need to speek with athoraties abou setting up an alert or something.”

“I agree, they need a way to contact us as well. For all we know it won’t always be obvious when there’s a…. what did you call it…. an amok?” at her nod, he continued. “Maybe we could talk to our kwamiis about communication devices and give the local government our numbers?”

“I could talk to Nooroo about that. What’s your kwamii’s name?”

“Plagg”

“Give me a few minutes I’ll detransform since I’m not in a public place.” Lady Papillion transformed without recalling her butterfly. She immediately gave Nooroo a flower petal.

“Thank You Miss Marinette.” Nooroo tiredly said.

“Nooroo is it possible for you to notify me of messages while detransformed?”

“Yes, I’ll know if a message is left while you’re not LP!” Nooroo chirped.

“Thank you Nooroo, let’s rest a bit. I told Chat we’ll be a few minutes.”

After a minute or two Marinette transformed to reconnect with her butterfly in Chat’s weapon.

“It is possible for us to communicate with the miraculous, our kwamii are able to notify us of any messages and relay responses even when we aren’t transformed.”

“Well, its settled then. Will you usually be contacting me from off-site?” The cat questioned.

“Yes, my miraculous is made to be used from outside the battles; therefore, I am not as wellprotected as you while transformed. I do have a place I can use as a base, though.”

“Ok. Can you recall your power so we can test our communicators effectively?” As soon as she heard his request, She called out her butterfly and released it from her service.

A few seconds later, her staff buzzed and beeped. Opening the top, she requested the message be read to her.

“One message from Chat Noir…. ‘How can I be of surrrvice, Lady Papillon.’”

“Respond to Chat Noir with, ‘Since this seems to be working, could you bring the contact information to the law enforcement?’”

“Responce sent…. New message from Chat Noir.”

“Read it please”

“‘On my way’” Smiling, she detransformed and retrieved a flower petal for Nooroo.

“Thank you!”

“No problem, lets make our way back to school though.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful compared to the morning; and people were flocking to Ivan to hear about how he beceme a superhero.

“I don’t have any power, guys, there was this lady in my head who gave me power and guided me through the battle!” He explained for the hundredth time. He sounded exasperated.

“This so-called ‘lady’ must be rediculous if she chose you. I would have ended it the moment it began. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.” Chloé, it’s always Chloé. I could hear Ivan shaking in his seat.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Ivan roared, “MY LADY IS A WISE AND RESPONSABLE WOMAN AND YOU CALL HER ‘RIDICULOUS!’”

“Ivan.” I state, drawing on my calming aura. “Can you calm down? Paeon is still out there and, from what I observed, he gives strong emotions physical form.” I was too late.

Rose shreeked, “The feather! It’s back!” The blood drains from my face and I get up to leave the room. As I enter the hallway, I hear a faint “Yes, Paeon” followed by a stampede.

I ended up using a fire escape to get out of the building since no one semed to think of that. From there it was a simple affair to arrive at my greenhouse as it was somewhat out of the danger zone.

“Nooroo, did the amok take the same form?”

“Yes, it has also taken Chloé Borgeois and Mylené Harple captive.”

“Ok, Nooroo, wings rise!” The familiar warmth washed over her, leaving Lady Papillion in its wake. Feeling the rush of emotions, LP sought out Ivan once again. Bonding with a photo he had on him, she spoke, “Ivan, we meet again.”

“I am so sorry! I was just so angry at Chloé, she insulted you!”

“While I am honored you decided to defend me, Paris has changed. As much as I hate to admit it, it is no longer safe to feel negative emotions. That’s what makes Paeon so cruel.”

“I understand, My Lady.”

“Ivan, are you willing to become Ironheart once again to defeat the amok?”

“Yes, My Lady.” She smiled at his agreement and allowed her power to enter Ivan fully. Transforming him into Ironheart in a wake of lavender bubbles, she began to guide him towards the battle.

Chat Noir was already on the scene, arguing with the police.

“This isn’t a failure on our part! This is an entirely separate situation!”

“Then why is the same monster as earlier climbing the Eiffel Tower with the mayor’s daughter!”

“I don’t have all the information yet!”

“Ironheart, can you please open your palm?” I asked. When Ivan opened his palm, an image was projected into the air. Lady Papillion was siting on her throne of metal vines, her sceptre resting on her lap. One of her hands remained on the handle of the sceptre while the other was draped casually over the vines of the armrest. Around her thousands of butterflies, many different kinds, flew around her. Giving her the image of a Lady in her keep.

“What seems to be the issue, officer….”

“Raincomprix, Leutenant Raincomprix.” the leutenant seemed to be a bit intimidated by the aura of power she gave off. At a nod of her head, he continued, “As a police department, we were concerned about the resurfacing of this morning’s villain despite you two supposedly defeating him.”

“I assure you, the resurfacing of the amok has nothing to do with Chat Noir and I. The man behind the attack, Paeon, posesses an ability to physically manifest any strong emotions into beings for him to control. The victim of this morning mearly got upset enough for Paeon to exploit them again. This will most likely become a common occurrence untill we track down Paeon and strip him of his power.” The leutenant’s face fell at her words.

“We have already left our contact information with the police department,” Chat chimed in.

“We must hurry, the amok has already caused enough damage as is.”

There is a sudden rustling of feathers as the amok put it’s chest towards the sky releasing millions of feathers from inside. The feathers, moving against the wind, rose into the air taking ther form of a man in a mask.

“I am Paeon, the man who controls this sentinel.” Paeon gestures toward the amok. “I have come to rescue you from the villains Chat Noir and the Butterfly. I must retrieve their miraculous to strip them of their power. Look around you, look at all the destruction they caused.”

“Ironheart, put your palms into the air please.” When Ironheart follower her instruction, a much larger projection than earlier filled the space above him.

“Paeon, how lovely to meet you.” Lady Papillion greeted with a sickly sweet tone. “I was wondering when I would have the pleasure of your acquaintance.” She relaxed onto her throne as Paeon scowled. “I am Lady Papillion, weilder of the Butterly Miraculous of Metamorphisis and Encouragement. Chat Noir and I have not caused the damage to uor beloved city, but Paeon tore through the city using a creature formed with the hurt and rage of an innocent teen. Doesn’t that sound more like the actions of a villain?” With that Ironheart lowers his hands and lept up the tower catching the feathers in his shield. A blinding light shone from the shield and the feathers were gone.

Sensing it was time to act, Chat Noir bounded after Ironheart. The battle was short after that. A well times cataclysm and two graceful catches ended the majority of the afternoons excitement.

As soon as the heroes reached the ground, they were surrounded by the press with their questions and flashing lights. It was definitely a new experience for the three.

“Lady Papillion! Ironheart, do you plan on working together for the time being?”

“Chat Noir! What do you think of Paeon painting a picture of you as a villain?”

“Chat Noir! How long do you plan on being a superhero, and how will it effect your daily life?”

“Lady Papillion! Why dont you show your face in person?” There were so many questions and so little space that Ironheart had to send out a little shockwave to get them to back off so the small image of Lady Papillion could speak.

“Ironheart and I will each take one question.” She stated with no room for argument. “I will not appear in person as, like Paeon, my miraculous is meant for distance and leaves me more vulnerable than the average miraculous weilder.”

“I dont know if I will be selected by my Lady again, but if I am, I will gladly accept it.” Ironheart stated and then left.

“Well done, Ironheart. Remember, your protectiveness is both your strength and your weakness. Be careful.” And with that she withdrew her butterfly and released it from her service. Before she could detransform, her septre buzzed.

“One new message from Chat Noir.”

“Read it.”

“‘Purrhaps you could send one of your butterflies to Arc de Triomphe, I would like to speak with mew, winky face.’” She sighed and sent out another butterfly with a kiss.

The butterfly made its journey to the Arc de Triomphe rather quickly and promptly joined with Chat’s golden bell. “You wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, I would like to see this base of yours so we can work together purrroperly.” Chat demanded.

“No, It would give away my identity or at least narrow it down for you. That is against what my kwamii told me.”

“Would knowing our identities not improve our teamwork, My Lady?”

“It also may hinder it Chat; so, I must say no.” she could feel his disappointment and anger rising.

“How can I trust you if I don’t know who you are?!”

“You will have to. I am goind to send a champion to heal the city. Good bye, Chat.” and she recalled the butterfly; but not before she felt his anger spike.

Feeling around, Lady Papillion searched for someone with the desire to fix everything. She sent her butterfly into a foreman’s clipboard.

“Hello, sir. I am Lady Papillion, what is your name?”

“Lady Papillion! Um…. I’m Rich Bordétte. It’s an honor to meet you My Lady.”

“Thank you Rich. I would like to offer you the ability to fix all the damage from today’s battles, even death.”

“Ok, call me…. The Worker!”

“Rich Bordétte, do you accept my offer to become The Worker”

“Yes, Lady Papillion.” The lavender bubbles covered Rich; in the same way as Ivan, the bubbles gave him a sunflower-colored hardhat, a safety vest, and a toolbelt with only a drill on it.

The Worker rose into the air and raised his dril and without ceremony pressed the button. From the tip of the drill, various butterflies and moths streamed out to the city covering everything that was damaged and anyone who was hurt or worse. As soon as the last moth landed, The Worker cried out and all the bugs rose at once flying to the sky. Below, the city looked just as it did the day before. The rubble was gone, the people were healed and all evidence of Paeon was gone.

Masterlist - First - Previous - Next

Taglist: @novemberandmay @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @slytherinhquinn @blackroserelina @buginetye @basenikon @moon5608

Hello, Jjmjjktth here. welcome to my extremely irregular upload schedule filed by a mix of procrastination and The FeelsTM.

WARNING!!! It may be one day to two or three months when i upload next!

please be patient :)

Love y'all!

#marinette dupain cheng #blind!marinette #butterfly!marinette #maribat #maybe?#idk #felinette #master fu #is a supportive mentor #the question au

172 notes · View notes

devinescribe · 3 years

Text

Stay High

Karube Daikichi × Reader

Based off this song

No, because It's a three am sad thought that should have been kept in my head. This is totally not based off of my deepest darkest feeling and fears. Anyways, ignore that. Um... yeah.

Warnings: Episode 3 spoilers, Manga spoilers, weed, smoking, suicide (this went darker than I intended, ok?), and another terrible attempt at angst :)

"Karu! For the last time, we're not getting a freaking parrot!" You scolded. "Aww, why not babe? They're cute," he said, pouting. You smiled kissing him quickly. "... I'll think about it," you said, before heading out. "I think that means we will have a-" "Don't push your luck babe. I'll see you after work."

_______________________________________

"And here is my attempt at trying to be nice. Happy anniversary!" You chirped, sliding a rather large gift his way. It had a draped cover over it, so he couldn't see inside. He looked at you suspiciously, slowly taking it in his hands. You had a camera in your hands, and we're smirking. He didn't trust that smirk. "Why do you have that camera?" He asked, nodding to it. "Just filming. It's a special day babe," you said, hiding your smile. "Can i-" "Don't you dare shake it-" He raised his hands in mock surrender, before slowly lifting the sheet.

You saw the smile that spread across his face. "I said I'd think about it," you said. He stood up, pulling your waist into him. He kissed you softly, making you smile in your head. "I'm guessing this means you like your gift?" You asked, a smirk on your face. "It's a fucking parrot, hell yeah I like it," he said. You laughed, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Tears blurred your vision, falling onto the screen of the camera. Had it really been a year since then?

"Ok, now I get to film you! Welcome to day 1 of our roadtrip, I don't know where we're going, but we'll find out soon enough," Karube said, turning the camera to face him. He then turned it to face you. You were putting your luggage into the trunk of your car, and looked up with a smile, giving the camera a peace sign. The parrot, who you two decided to name Nijiko after much deliberation due to its coloring, squawked on your shoulder. You smiled. "Yes, you'll be going to day care for a while Nijiko," you spoke to the bird, petting it's beak softly. The bird shivered. "Day care? Nijiko day care?" It squawked, tilting it's head to the side. You nodded. "Yes, smart bird. Nijiko is going to daycare," you praised. "I sometimes wonder if she loves the bird more than me. The answer is yes. Yes she does," Karube said, laughing as you spoke to the bird.

"Update, it's been 4 hours, and we are in the middle of no where. The child(the bird) has been dropped off at day care... well boarding? For the week. The music's pretty good though, and this angel next to me is still here, so we're all good," he said. He was really serious about filming this. "Babe, why are you filming this again?" You asked, reaching to grab his hand on the center console. "Because memories baby girl," he responded, kissing the back of your hand as it was intertwined with his. You laughed, blowing him a kiss, turning your attention back to the road.

"Day 3 of our roadtrip, (Y/N) is deciding on what to wear, but as I've told her, she looks great in everything," he stated. You flipped him off, picking out something to wear finally. "Wowwwww, I can really feel the love," he said sarcastically, holding a hand to his chest dramatically. "Shut up, you know I love you," you said, rolling your eyes. "I know you do. Who wouldn't love me?" he joked. "I don't know babe. Watch it though, 'cause you're mine~!"

"Ok, it's a few hours later, (Y/N) is getting snacks, and I'm super nervous, because of this," he said, talking to camera. He pulled out a small box, showing the ring to the camera. "I've been documenting this whole thing like a maniac, because I didn't want her to be suspicious. But anyways, yeah... I've been thinking about it for a while, seeing as we've been together since high school. I am terrified, in all honesty," he rambled, running a hand through his hair. He put the small box back to where you wouldn't find it, but he wouldn't lose it. He saw you walking back to the car, and smiled. You opened the door, giving him a weird look. "You're filming again?" You questioned. He nodded. "You love the sound of your voice don't you?" You asked with a smile. He laughed, "Not as much as I love yours."

_______________________________________

He placed the camera was on a nearby fence post, facing you two, close enough to see and hear both of you. He started recording, and gave a thumbs up to the camera. You looked out to the water, admiring the hues of blue. The water crashed into the shore, spraying you with water. "You know when we get married, I'm definitely going to take you here again," he said. You kept looking out at the water, not noticing him. "When we get married? You already have this planed?" You laughed. You turned to face him, not seeing him at eye level. You looked down, and your eyes widened. "As I was saying, when we get married-" he started, getting interrupted when you jumped onto him, throwing your arms around his neck. You both fell to the sand, and you two couldn't help but laugh. "Are you serious? Like, really?" You asked, tears in your eyes. "Yeah, I'm serious. (Y/N), you've been with me for what seems like forever. I love you so much, and I want to be yours forever. Just as much as you'll be mine. So... would you do me the honor, and marry me?" He asked. He might have sounded confident, but he was shaking on the inside. The tears in your eyes fell, and you laughed nodding. "Yes, a million times yes," you said. He laughed, letting out a sigh of relief. You hugged him tightly, your head in the crook of his neck. "Forever and ever?" You whispered. "Forever and ever."

You looked down at the ring on your finger, crying even harder. His side of the bed stayed empty, no one would ever be able to sleep there. Not even you. His side of the room stayed untouched. The same way it had been left that morning. Before the accident.

"(Y/N)... I know you're sad, but this isn't healthy for you... just... call me back once you get this," Arisu sighed. "No answer again?" Usagi asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head. "She's been with our group as long as I can remember. And she's been... she had been... with Karube even longer. If it's hard on me, I can't believe how hard it must be on her," Arisu explained. Usagi pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure she's fine. All people cope with things differently. Just give her space."

You were most definitely not fine. The grief that filled you everytime you saw Arisu's name on your phone, when you looked at anything that once belonged to Karube. For the first time in the past few weeks, you wandered into the kitchen, and saw the binder filled with the ideas you two had for the wedding. You looked away, tears filling your eyes once more. You couldn't escape the sorrow that had filled your life. It seemed like he was everywhere. Even when you turned on the damn TV the news was talking about the incident. The names of the victims would pop up with pictures, and you would quickly turn it off. You grabbed the folder, ripping up all the papers in there, shredding them to bits in a fit of sadness. You dropped to your knees, holding the final piece of paper. You sniffled, wiping your eyes, looking down. It was in Karube's hand writing, and you took a deep breath. Eventually, you would have to read these things. Eventually, you would have to clean up his side of the room. You decided to start off small. By reading whatever this was.

'I may not be good at expressing my feelings, and this is not going to be the first time you've all heard me tell you how wonderful this woman is, and how much I love her. It certainly won't be the last, if I have any say in it. To which I do. If I could go back to the day we met, and you told me I would be marrying her, I would believe it. Because I've loved you from day one (Y/N). And now, I'll have you. Forever and ever.'

- Karube (rough draft, don't let (Y/N) find this)

You whimpered, holding the piece of paper to your chest. This was too much for you. You needed a distraction.

"Eh, just give me the money, no one will ever know," the woman said. You gave her the money, and she passed you a bag. "I promise it gets better dear. And be careful with that," she said sweetly. You nodded, your face so devoid of any emotion, it was hard to tell if you were still alive. Your world felt so numb to any emotion but hurt.

The burn of the smoke in your throat was satisfying. For the first time since his death, you felt something. Your eyes lazily looked up, staring at the ceiling. The smell of the weed filled up the room and you rolled your eyes. For once the pain was gone. You couldn't think of anything in the moment other than being hungry. The first time in weeks that had happened.

That was your new routine. Wake up, lounge around, look through the videos and pictures of both of you, get high of your mind. It was the only way you'd forget. Was it healthy? No. Did you care? Also no. You started ignoring Arisu's calls, messages, and voice mails. Leaving them unseen, and unheard. He was worried, and Usagi had gotten worried as well, even though she'd only met you once at the hospital. You seemed like a pleasant person, and according to Arisu, you never left someone in the dark that long. You would usually respond quickly if you weren't at work. But, do to the incident, there wasn't work for a few weeks. That made him worry.

When he found out why you weren't answering, he was shocked. Your apartment wasn't exactly a mess. There were a few papers scattered in the kitchen, and uncollected mail, but other than that, your apartment was clean. He was so confused, hearing you giggling and talking to yourself in your room.

He knocked on the door, opening it slowly. "(Y-y/N)?" He asked hesitantly. You looked up, your eyes lazy and red. The smell of weed in your room was strong, the smoke going out of the window. How long had you been doing this? Had it become self destructive? These were questions he asked himself before seeing you doze off to sleep.

"What the hell were you thinking (Y/N)! You can't- you can't destroy your life over it! I- I was so worried! I've already lost two friends, I can't lose you too!" He scolded. It was a few hours later, and your high had passed. "Why do you care?" You snapped, the conversation being boring to you. The hurt you hadn't felt in weeks came back. He was back in your mind, not as your wonderful fiancé, but as the man you had lost. The man who you had to bury in the ground. It was horrible. Your mind hated the images of his body, lifeless and devoid of his usual smile. You hated it. Absolutely despised it.

"Because you're my friend! You've been my friend since high school! I know it hurts (Y/N), believe me I know, but you can't destroy your fucking life and mental health!" He scolded. It was so unfair to you, in your head. That he was saying something like that. "You want to know what's really destroying my mental health?! Not having him anymore! The fact that he's dead, and I can't- I can't-" you couldn't finish your sentence. Arisu felt bad, but this was an intervention. He had to be a bit forceful for you to stop. "Karube wouldn't want you to do this," he said softly. You felt more tears fall. But you didn't know how to deal with this. "How do you know what he wants?! He's dead!" You screamed. "H-hes dead," you whispered, your voice breaking. Arisu hugged you tightly as you cried. "Can I just know why?" He asked. "He's gone, and I have to stay high all the time to keep him off my mind. Gotta stay high... all my life to forget I'm missing him," you whispered. It was true. It was the only way you could feel something other than pain. The smoke made your mind hazy, and your sadness drifted away. But it wasn't healthy. And it would never be. "It gets better (Y/N)... please, just... stay with me for a week. So I can have peace of mind?"

2 years later

You sat on the sand of the beach, the waves crashed onto the rocks nearby, and a breeze blew the salt water into your face. You looked down at the ring on your finger, sighing at the sight of the shiny gem. You smiled sadly, pressing a kiss to it. "Soon my darling... soon we'll be together again. Forever and ever."

Because the high kept him off your mind, you didn't learn how to cope any other way. The only way was to feel any other pain. You had tried to meet other people, but no one was ever as good. You couldn't even talk to other guys without feeling guilt. It felt wrong. It was like whatever you did, you couldn't get over it. At all. In fact, it had gotten worse over the years. Especially on the yearly anniversary of the incident. Reporters would go to your home and ask you questions, seeing as people had asked you while you were in the hospital. How we're you supposed to get over it when you were reminded constantly?

So there was no thoughts in your head as you walked into the water. It was cold, shocking you. If you didn't drown, you'd die of hypothermia. And that was fine with you.

Forever and ever, no?

Ok, ok, ok.... wow, wowowowowow, this was a three am sad thought that did not have to be written, ok, um wow... that was darker than I intended, holy shit-

I promise I'm done with the terrible attempts at angst, and I promise I'm working on the my other oneshots/books. It's just that when I have an idea, I need to write it before I forget.

Remember that people love you, even if you think no one does, I promise you they do. If you really need help, please find it, and if you would like, I'm always glad to talk to people if they need my help.

#alice in borderland #×reader #spotify #Karube Daikichi #angst?#three am thoughts are hard to deal with #im honestly proud of this one

21 notes · View notes

thatesqcrush · 4 years

Text

Witness

An anonymous request: hi!!! i love ur rafael writings! i was wondering if you could do one where rafa and the reader are married and she has to be a witness in a SVU case and the defense lawyer is sort of attacking her and rafa assures her it's all ok??? then maybe sex in his office...

Ask & ye shall receive, dear nonny. This kind of took a life of its own after talking with @beccabarba. This is the spanking square of my kink bing.

CW: rough, rough spanking. I am not talking love taps here. Rough sex. Anal sex. Vaginal fingering. Cum play. Hot angry office sex. Language. You have been warned. This is deffo NSFW.

WC: 1923

Your heart was pounding in its cage and you felt a bead of sweat roll down your face. As a detective for SVU, you were used to being on the stand to testify for many cases. But there was something about this case that was different than others. Never had you endured such an intense re-direct before. Your eyes flicked for the briefest second at Rafael Barba – the prosecutor on the case. Even seemed to be off his game as Buchanan bullied you on the stand.

“I know how difficult it is to be professional and politically correct at the same time, but you did just say that a more assertive girl might not have been targeted.”

You opened your mouth to reply when Barba stood. “Objection, speculative.”

Judge Barth nodded. “I'm going to sustain the objection.”

Buchanan narrowed his eyes at you. “It sounds to me like you're blaming the victim.”

You shirked back. “No, I am not. You are twisting what I'm saying!”

“So there is nothing that the accuser can do that would contribute to this situation? If she's sexy? Willingly going to private areas? Enthusiastically engaging in foreplay? None of this could possibly lead someone on into thinking there is more?”

“Objection. Speculation.” Barba replied, angrily.

“More like common sense, Your Honor.” Buchanan replied.

“It's always the rapist's fault!” You blurted out at the same time Rafael voice another objection.

“I'll withdraw. Nothing further.” Buchanan replied, his voice just a bit too gleeful. Your stomach churned as Judge Barth announced you could sit back down. Judge Barth called an hour long recess and you stormed off to your husband’s office.

“Hey Carmen.” You greeted sullenly. The paralegal smiled at you. “How’d it go?”

“Terrible.” You replied, your eyes brimming with tears. Rafael followed behind soon after. You stared at him for the briefest of moments and then huffed, as you stormed into his office.

Rafael sighed in irritation. “Carmen, hold my calls. Take an extra long lunch.”

Carmen raised her brow. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” The paralegal grabbed her purse and placed her and Rafael’s line on ‘do not disturb’ before beelining it out of the office.

Rafael made way to his office where you were huffing, pacing the room angrily. He shut the door behind him with a quiet click and locked the door. He placed his briefcase on his desk and hung up his suit jacket before rolling up his sleeves. He leaned against his desk and crossed his arms as he continued to watch you pace.

“Keep it up and you’ll wear a hole in this floor.”

You spun on the balls of your feet and glared at Rafael. His expression softened and, in that moment, he was Rafael your husband – not the top prosecutor in all of Manhattan.

“What the fuck Raf? What the hell happened out there? You could have protected me out there more?” You snapped.

“I have a bullet proof answer tree!” Rafael snapped in return. “You know that!”

“Well clearly it wasn’t since Buchanan used me like a goddman punching bag and you did nothing to stop him aside from a cavalier use of an objection here and there.

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt his blood pressure rise. Nothing irritated him more than the implication that he wasn’t doing his job.

“Rafael, I love you but sometimes you’re just not a good of a lawyer as you think you are. You got bested by someone who went to a third tier law school.” As soon as the words came out, you instantly regretted them. You covered your hand with your mouth, regret and guilt gnawing at your guts. You couldn’t believe what you had said in the heat of the moment. You opened your mouth to offer an apology when Rafael held a silencing hand as he wracked his brain, still trying to digest what you had said.

After a beat, Rafael finally spoke. His voice was so low, so clipped, you almost missed it.

“Bend over the desk.”

You cocked your head and raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

Rafael’s nostrils flared. “I said bend over. Your insubordination is not appreciated.”

You nodded slowly. “Our word?”

Rafael nodded. “Always.”

Though you knew the discussion of what happened earlier was not off the table, you were quick to obey what he said. Both of you were hot tempered and a lot of times you paused fights to work it out with sex. And you and Rafael had a very healthy sex life. And office sex was never out of the question.

You bent over Rafael’s desk from the side, eagerly awaiting whatever he was about to do. In that moment, you were thrilled to have worn a skirt suit. Rafael pressed himself against your ass and you could feel his erection pressed against you. Rafael dropped to his knees, his face pressed into your backside. Two large hands ran up your thighs and he shoved your skirt up. He made a sound of approval over the thigh highs you wore, attached by a lacy black garter. Complimenting the look was a lace thong.

Rafael ran his fingers over the thin strip of material before snapping it back on your skin. He shoved his face against your ass once more, pressing large, wet kisses along your skin. “God, I love this ass.” Rafael murmured. “This big beautiful ass, on display just for me. And with you like this, I can see almost everything.”

“Spread your ass for me.” Rafael ordered. “Let me see that tight little asshole.”

You reached around and grabbed your ass cheeks to spread them, exposing every bit of you.

“You were a naughty kitten today, Y/N.” Rafael growled. “I always prepare you for court and instead you humiliated me. You deserve to be punished.”

Rafael’s hand ran down your ass oh so gently before he delivered a spank to your ass. It sent a shot of arousal through your core. Your skin tingled and it made your pussy that much more wet. Another smack landed, this time on the opposite cheek, stinging you in such a good way. You let out a coo and Rafael delivered another spank to your ass, this time harsher. The spanks that followed were delivered just as harshly, maybe even more so. The stings stuck around a few seconds longer and your skin began to feel more and more sensitive.

Usually when Rafael spanked, he had you count out loud, but this time he didn’t. Instead you counted to yourself. The spanks just continued and continued, controlled and calculated. Tears pricked the backs of your eyes. The skin of your ass was red and hot. You knew if you had wanted Rafael to stop, all you had to say was your safe word.

Finally, just when you didn’t think you could take anymore, Rafael stopped. You stayed put, over the desk, waiting with baited breath as to what would happen next. You gasped as cool liquid covered your ass.

“Oh kitten, you did so well.” Rafael praised with a deep rumble in his throat. You winced slightly as Rafael worked the oil into your sensitive skin. He worked his fingers closer to your pussy and you lifted your hips, eagerly. Rafael chuckled.

“Mmmm, my greedy kitten. Can’t get enough, can you?” Rafael replied. “Keep those cheeks open.”

You obliged his request and let out a whimper as two fingers slid into you easily. Rafael worked his fingers in and out of you. Your legs were a messy mixture of your arousal and the body oil. As his fingers twisted and scissored in and out of you, Rafael used the pad of his thumb to press it against your asshole, rubbing it in small circles.

“Please.” You gasped. “Fuck me.”

Rafael chuckled low, before removing his fingers from you, causing you to whine. You heard the sound of a zipper being undone and you felt your thighs flood some more with desire. Rafael smacked his cock against your ass and you wiggled back, desperate and achy to be filled by his cock. Rafael slipped just the tip of his cock into your needy cunt and you let out a small moan. He stood still, not giving you anymore. Finally you let out a protesting whine which turned into a groan as Rafael pressed his cock into your ass. You let out a deep breath as his filled you to the hilt, his balls pressing against your ass.

“Oh fuck.” Rafael grunted. A hand reached around to rub your clitoris which was swollen and desperate for contact. He rubbed circles on your clit as you adjusted to his length. No matter how many times you and him had anal sex, the initial insertion always took your breath away given how well endowed he was. You let out a moan and then nodded your head, your cue to him to proceed. Rafael let out another grunt as he set a pace, hard and fast. He gripped your waist to pull you down onto his cock. Sounds of skin on skin filled the office and you let out soft moans and whimpers of encouragement.

“I’m gonna come.” Rafael panted. “Gonna come... in that ass.”

“Come in my ass Rafi.” You begged. “Please, give it to me.”

Rafael stiffened and let out a slew of Spanish expletives as he came in your ass, his cock pulsing with his release. Rafael withdrew, taking a few steps back and watched as some of his come dribbled out of your ass. You went to move but approached you, stilling you. Standing by your ear, he whispered hotly in your ear. “Want to come, don’t you?”

You nodded desperately. “Please.”

Rafael didn’t reply, instead he gathered some of his cum onto his fingers and then slipped his fingers back inside of you, twisting and thrusting. “Then come.” All it took was a few haphazard circles on your clit and you came hard, groaning and shuddering as your released washed over you. It was white-hot and searing, sounds were muffled.

Rafael removed his fingers gently and helped you stand fully. He offered his fingers to you and you closed your eyes as you sucked them clean. Rafael removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth, kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the kiss. The kiss was soft and delicate in comparison to the intense sex you both just had.

Rafael broke the kiss and brushed your hair gently from his face. “I love you. You did so well.”

You blushed at the praise. “Only because I have the best husband. I’m sorry for what I said. You know that I think you’re the best prosecutor. Buchanan just… he can get under my skin.

Rafael pressed another kiss to your lips. “I know amor. And I could have done more in terms of objecting. Do you want to go over your testimony again? I am going to ask for a re-direct.”

You nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

Court was called back into session and Rafael called you back to the stand. You sat on the hard wooden chair and a look flashed through your face quickly and Rafael had to will himself to focus. He stood and buttoned his jacket. Gone was the look of an overwhelmed prosecutor. Now in the court room was the Rafael Barba that made headlines. You braced yourself.

“Your Honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile?”

“Permission granted.”

You repositioned yourself and sat straight, your face stoic.

Inwardly, you smiled.

FIN.

Tags: @madpanda75 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @beccabarba @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader @rachelxwayne @prurientpuddlejumper

#thatesqcrush kink bingo #rafael barba smut #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #reader insert #svu smut

121 notes · View notes

cutie1365 · 4 years

Text

Hello Detective Chapter 69

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I know how long it’s been since I posted... I have a lot planned for these next few chapters so I hope it doesn’t take me as long!

(italics are flashbacks)

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

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

The next month went by in a blur. Sometimes it seemed as if the memories weren’t even real. How could you have so much happiness ripped away from you in a matter of hours? You knew how, there was one man responsible for what was to come. You were happy, it felt like just yesterday you were lying in Sherlock’s bed after John and Mary’s wedding.

“You know we can’t stay in bed all day.” You tilted your head up to Sherlock from its resting position on his chest.

“Why not?” He complained, moving his hands from behind his head. One finding its way onto the small of your bare back.

“Some of us have jobs.” You answered, but he only rolled his eyes.

His other hand found yours, as he brushed his hands gently over your fingers, admiring your ring.

“I don’t want to take it off.” You smiled, following his gaze.

“Then don’t.” He answered simply, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss across your knuckles.

“I’d give Mrs. Hudson a heart attack.” You shook your head at his suggestion. He really wasn’t grasping this whole ‘secret engagement’ thing.

“Well you might be right about that.” He conceded.

“For now it can be our little secret.” You smirked, sitting up in bed and wrapping the sheet around your chest for warmth.

“We might as well just get married then.” Sherlock muttered, pushing up until his back was against the headboard.

“You can’t plan a wedding in a week, Sherlock.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“We could elope. No crowds, no telegrams, no speeches.” He nearly shuttered at the memory.

“No attempted murder.” You reminded him with a smirk, causing him to laugh.

“Just you and me.” He stroked the side of your face.

You considered for a moment what this would mean, and it wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

“Our mothers are going to kill us.” You shook your head with a sigh.

“Is that a yes?” Sherlock asked, surprised you actually were on board with this.

“I don’t want a big wedding, I don’t want to be walked down the aisle. I want you, and that’s enough. It’s a piece of paper.” You shrugged. After all you’ve been through together, you knew you didn’t need a piece of paper to prove your commitment and connection.

Sherlock wrapped his hand around the back of your head, pulling you closer to him until your lips met. Marriage for him was one thing, and he never thought he’d actually be here, with someone he loved and was actually wanting to marry, but a wedding... that was too far. He didn’t need a spectacle, he just needed you.

“I knew I loved you.” He chuckled, shaking his head as you broke apart.

“Well I should hope so. Now move over, I need to shower and go to work.” You playfully shoved him off of you as you tried to climb to the other side of the bed.

“I could join.” He smirked, wrapping his hand around your arm, keeping you in place.

“Come on then... fiance.” You shook your head with a smile.

And elope was exactly what you did. You could still feel the cool spring air whipping around you in your short white business dress as you stepped into the courthouse hand in hand.

“We’re really doing this aren’t we?” You looked up to Sherlock with a nervous smile.

“It would appear so.” He said, squeezing your hand. Was he nervous too?

“There’s still time to back out if you don’t want to do this.” You spoke softly, you wanted him to be happy, and you didn’t want him to do this just because it was something he thought you wanted. You hoped he wanted this too.

“Never.” He smiled, leading you inside the judge’s chambers, calming any fears you may have had.

Knowing your position and both of your occupations would put you both in danger, you both agreed it was best to not tell anyone yet. You made sure that the marriage certificate would remain confidential and redacted for anyone who would try and look it up.

The week before John and Mary were set to return from their honeymoon, the two of you wondered if that was something you had to do. What’s the point of a honeymoon? Or sex holiday as Sherlock so charmingly called it.

“Do we need a honeymoon?” Sherlock asked you abruptly the moment you entered the room, coming home from work. In his hands he was flipping over a postcard that John had sent.

“I have a better idea.” You smirked, holding a file behind your back. What opportune timing he had to ask about a honeymoon.

“What’s that?” Sherlock tilted his head slightly, eyeing what you were hiding.

You took a step towards him, before dropping the file into his lap.

“Triple murder, Inverness.” You spoke, and his eyes lit up. He jumped from his seat, file in hand and kissed you.

“You’re already making a wonderful wife.” He chuckled, kissing you once more before flipping through the details of the case.

His reaction brought a smile to your face. You knew he needed a case, he was going crazy being cooped up in the flat, and you were due for a vacation. Two birds, one stone.

“How exactly did you convince them to give us this case?” He asked, seeing no sort of consultation or jurisdiction transfers in the file.

“I called their police commissioner personally. It took less than five minutes.” You shrugged, and Sherlock was impressed. A slight abuse of power, but to him it was worth it. Besides, with the two of you on the case, the likelihood of finding the killer before someone else gets hurt just went up tenfold.

“And what did you tell Mycroft?” He asked, knowing it would be suspicious if the two of you just went on holiday suddenly to Scotland, after all you were keeping this whole marriage on a need to know basis. He was also technically your boss, and you’d need a good reason to skip out on work and cash in a few vacation days.

“That the Scottish Highlands police commissioner begged you to take the trip, and I’ve never been, so I just had to tag along.” You spoke just as innocently as you had when explaining to Mycroft that you’d be back in a few days.

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger don’t you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s a gift.” You shrug, smiling.

Naturally you two couldn’t just have a quiet, peaceful honeymoon in the Scottish Highlands. No, that would be too ordinary, too mundane. Sure there would be sightseeing, well if that included crime scenes. And of course no Scottish honeymoon is complete without a pub crawl, well maybe a pub brawl. Wrap that all together and sprinkle in a killer just desperate to be caught, and you have the perfect combination for a honeymoon- Sherlock Holmes style. The game was on!

“You said he’d be here.” You looked around the pub carefully, employing the skills you’d learned during your time at MI6.

“Am I ever wrong?” Sherlock said cockily, with the raise of a brow.

You raised your fingers, prepared to count all the times he was in fact very wrong, but he stopped you the moment you opened your mouth.

“Ok don’t answer that.” He said, covering your hand with his.

You smirked in response, knowing you were right.

“All his victims were females that frequented this pub. He meets them here, they take him back to their homes and he dismembers them.” Sherlock explains. Charming subject matter for a honeymoon, but when it came to your lives, were you really surprised?

“Then we’re missing an obvious strategy here.” You said plainly, hoping it would be clear as day to him.

“And what would that be?” He asks, not understanding your insinuation.

“Bait.” You motion to yourself as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes go dark for a moment, his jaw clenching in a way you’ve seen a few times before.

“No, absolutely not.” He said in a protective tone.

“Oh come on, no one knows who I am here. We can expedite the process.” You explained, assuring him that everything would be alright.

Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. He knew there would be no convincing you otherwise.

“Fine,” He huffed, standing from his seat next to you and moving to the other side of the room, leaving you alone at the bar. It didn’t take long for you to be approached, just as you expected.

“Well aren’t you a bonnie lass. Let me buy you a drink.” A curly haired man appeared beside you and spoke in a thick Scottish accent.

“Thank you.” You smile sheepishly with a giggle, playing your role of the dumb American.

“American? You’re a far way from home aren’t ya lassie.” He chuckles deeply, thinking you’d be the perfect target... little did he know.

“A little bit.” You giggled as two drinks were placed in front of you. Whiskey, neat.

“Have you been up to Culloden yet?” He pointed out the window in the general location of the historic battle site in an attempt to get you to follow his gaze, so he could drug your drink while you weren’t looking.

“No I haven’t been.” You shook your head, turning back to him, making sure to let your gaze linger on the window for a moment longer. He offered you the drink and you smiled, taking it from his hand. You make sure to keep your lips closed as you take a sip, not ingesting any of the liquid. Hopefully the police could match the drug to the one found in the victims toxicology reports.

“You here all by yourself, lassie?” He asked, smirking as you ‘drank’.

“Well I’m here with you, aren’t I?” You smiled, and he chuckled deeply.

“Good answer.” He almost growled as he went to whisper in your ear and his hand worked its way up your thigh.

“Why don’t we get out of here-” He began to whisper in your ear before he was abruptly ripped off of you. It didn’t take a genius to guess by who.

There were profanities exchanged and punches thrown, as more and more men joined in, some to help a fellow Scot, and some to help ‘defend your honor’. You were able to pull Sherlock away before he got hurt. Bloody knuckles you could handle, but a busted lip or cheek would not make for a happy honeymoon memory.

“I had it under control.” You hissed at him, your hand still wrapped around his arm.

“He drugged you!” Sherlock argued.

“I know!” You yelled back, pointing to the drink at the bar. The man's drink was almost empty and yours had the same amount of liquid as when it was handed to you, even though you appeared to have been sipping on it for a while. He was so focused on the man’s body language and hand on your leg that he’d missed that.

“Oh,” Sherlock muttered as he realized.

Our heads whipped back to the door as three officers and the local detective you’ve been working with walked in. Sherlock must have called them as you were playing dumb. He nodded to the officer and eyed the man the bouncer now had pinned to the wall.

Everyone cleared out soon after that and the two of you stood outside in your coats, watching the police put the man into the back of a police car.

“Are you sure it’s him? I mean, sure he was a little creepy and handsy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a serial killer.” You said, not that you were defending him, you just wanted to be certain.

“His prints will match the scene, trust me.” Sherlock nodded confidently.

“But how can you be sure?” You tried once more.

“Because I’m Sherlock Holmes.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes, before shaking your head and smiling.

If only things remained that easy, that carefree. If only all of your cases were that cut and dry. A man does something wrong, and he gets caught. He breaks the rules and laws of society, and he faces the consequences. But not all cases have a happy ending. Good doesn’t always defeat evil. Being on the side of the angels doesn’t mean that angels exist. But the devil does, and he walks the earth in the form of Charles Augustus Magnussen.

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

Please let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is greatly encouraged.

Remember to comment or reblog to stay on my taglist!

79 notes · View notes

neo-shitty · 3 years

Note

toffee!

ah yeah, i think quarentine has given people some opportunity to actually just sit with the person they are, rather than be rushing around for the person they want to become. its good you got smth good out of isolation! ah thats great! hope you had fun and ur partner in crime speeds back home so you can get out more hehe.

ah yeah ty, good suggestions.

hmm good point, i was sort of putting it separate to the whole not-sexualising thing, but yeah. mmm yeah i totally agree, some of the enhypen fics/imagines *shudder* and even reading innie stuff is just a bit *icky* cos everyone still thinks of him as our agi ppang. yeah def would be good but sadly this just seems to be the world we live in. :(

ah yes the holy masterlist (not sarc) i have actually read in the rain and gladius maximus before, but ill go look for in class! oooh thats good! character development lol. hmmmm yes champagne problems was the angst to end all angst, that shit hurt. it was actually one of the first of your fics i read and i recall almost crying over the whole thing, it was so heartbreaking, i can see how it almost made you want to drop angst. good that youve allowed yourself some lee-way tho :)

hehe thats so cool. okay here we go, ill try not to be mortally offended (/hj)

cheese - yes same, i liked it but that was all there was, it wasnt a super standout track. it was rlly underwhelming for me but some of the hook is super catchy so there is Redemption (tm) in store for cheese maybe

thunderous - mmm, yeah at first i totally agreed, i think they suffer from too much good music syndrome, that all their other tracks are such fucking bops its hard to stay at that level of perfection. the choreo was beautiful tho and tbh, the track has grown on me since ive been watching all the vids abt it. its my brothers favourite track

domino - YES GODAMMIT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE TITLE TRACK. the raps, the vocals, the vibes, the fucking domino sound in the back? i would have streamed that shit on repeat. but tbh, as good as it is, it doesnt have that sort of grandness/oomph that skz seems to like in their title tracks so i can see why they chose thunderous (tho domino would have been so good) *sigh*

ssick - yeah same, not my fave track by a long mile, the crowd cheering was a ?strange? choice and the chorus was a bit bare/empty, plus like i mentioned earlier, it was kinda funny to me for some reason but ill still play it if im playing thru the whole album

the view - ahh one of those not like other girls (/j) i honestly think its just a good party song, just a bop to play in the background when nobodys rlly paying much attention. its pretty generic pop music but catchy

sorry, i love you - hehe yeah i thought it was going to be sadder as well, but i rlly loved the fact that they all just got to sing, which almost never happens, i dont think ive heard felix sing for a long time, so i enjoyed it. wasnt rlly a standout track but i just casually like it. looking forward to the fic haha

silent cry - this song i swear, some bits are rlly good and then others are just? why?? it does sound like a dance song tho idk. definitely not one of my faves either

secret secret - YES its so good! its such a chill song and i love their vocals in it. the combination of lo-fi/fake strings backup stuff and their heavenly vocals just makes it *chefs kiss* im listening to it rn and just... its so beautiful. it gives me pumped up another day vibes ya know? like my pace is edgy get cool, this one is energetic another day i feel like. overall i love it

STAR LOST - ah thats so cool! i didnt know that! on first listen this song had a similar vibe to secret secret but then the beat came in and ahh its such a good song. i can totally imagine them putting this song to a concert footage vid, this song is so sweet.

red lights - LMAO YES ITS SO AWKWARD WHY DOES IT GO ON FOR SO LONG ah thats good! yeah good point, its quite intense hehe. but that is my fave trope and this is lowkey my favourite track on the album so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just the combination of hyunjins and chans voices, the backing music, the lyrics ahh red lights my beloved

surfin’ - yes lmao its always a shock, i feel like they should have put gone away in between them, but its such a fun cute song, i cant get rlly mad. yeah, as an aussie i think im contractually obligated to like beaches lol. sand im not such a fan of, but my familys rlly into fishing and my brother loves bodyboarding so we stay at a beach house at least twice a year and we live like 5 mins from 3 different beaches (hehe all aussie cities are on the coast lol) so thats cool. do you like beaches?

gone away - ah gone away my beloved, i love this song sm, its just so pure and showcases their vocals and lyrics so well. yes the pitch change is very out of the blue, i feel liek they went directly from seungmins soft vocals to hans powerful ones which was an interesting choice, but hey, im not complaining

wolfgang - YES IKR ah im so happy he got to be included in that era and song. yeah its such a full on song i cant rlly listen to it if im in a quiet mood but its very motivating :)

hehe mood, i hope they do! ahhh no rest, but at least you wont have to pull a blink and wait a year for any word from the group lol. im not rlly into nct but im excited for them! ah hopefully youll be able to sneak some rest into that chaotic schedule, with enhypen (idk if u stan but yeah) squeezed into it haha

<3 w.a. 🐺

i wheezed at partner in crime, it reminded me of smth. i have a lee know fic in the drafts that i wrote 'in honor' of him (and his departure-ish). i'll tag you when i finish it, if you want. it's a rather hilarious one.

oh my god. based on my experience on the collabs i've joined before, writing explicit shit for '01 & '02 is not accepted (nct's maknaes) but with enha's hyung line '01 & '02 somehow it's okay? i do a double take every time i see fics like those i mean, technically, it's legal but still what the fuck. maybe it's just not for me at the moment. not at us venting our frustration about this. it's just something that's so accepted here that i am (in all honesty) slightly uncomfortable about. but oh well. that's kpop writerblr for you.

man i could've linked all the fics in the ask instead so you wouldn't have to go looking for them! i think i saw you like in class the other day (the fic i renamed into sharp-tongued, god it took me a while to remember the new title). describing champagne problems as an angst to end all angst is one way to put what i was feeling back in december. it just hurt to write and admit?? if that ever happened to me i would prolly cry :d

okay back to the album talk! i love how you answered with more thoughts. i love exchanges like these! i am a victim of the cheese hook and it's now one of my favorite tracks in the album. PLS, TOO MUCH GOOD MUSIC SYNDROME. that's on our self-producing kings 😌💅 also, your brother has taste! as i am typing this, domino's currently playing in my head and i realized that too, that it doesn't have that 'vibe' of a skz title track. honestly, this could be a title track of another group. ssick is starting to grown on me because i found the beats cool kdjsk not the not like other girls 😭 the view is the generic pop that i don't like but i get why a lot of people enjoy it. sorry i love you scratches a certain itch that i find myself singing the first few lines every time i remember it. i too would want to hear felix sing more!

> a mini junction on the album talk bc i got side tracked. on that topic, i want skz to switch positions at some point like i know those allrounders are capable of doing so. specifically, i want to hear seungmin rap!!!! (yk in the recent weekly idol he talked faster than changbin in a challenge and changbin is like the fastest rapper in kpop that's active atm if im not mistaken. my dandy boy has some potential and i want it UNLEASHED.)

back to album talk. silent cry is basically sad music to twerk to. secret secret is definitely one of my favorite tracks :( i loved how you compared the tracks HAJSAH i burst out laughing bc yk what, you're right! i want to make a star lost edit of skz but i simply do not have the time i want to cry. i love the song so much. ok, my dreaded track, red lights. idt i have played the track since we last talked. my friend sent me the lyrics tho and i'm itching to write a twisted au out of it. idk if you're comfortable with yandere but somewhere along those themes. the obsessive type of love that's sweet at first but turns rotten. IMAGINE IF THEY PUT GONE AWAY BETWEEN ASHJA it's like going from 50 shades to the notebook.

i was about to ask if you lived near the coast and you literally mentions it here god im so stupid. yes i LOOOOOOOOOVE beaches so much. living in an archipelago is fun :( i live in a part of the country that's more island than city so every time i want some vitamin sea it's accessible. i heard the waves in australia are great :( anYWHOOO gone away :(( every time it plays im compelled to skip it because it makes me sAD AND NOWADAYS I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO BE SAD. contrary to you, i dislike my quiet moods because i tend to overthink a lot.

i have this little analogy about how there are stays that enjoy songs the generic pop + mellow songs and then there are other stays that enjoy the noisy tracks. in my mind, it's like a perfect balance that makes me feel like all the tracks are loved in the end. just by different people.

PULL A BLINK. bro i fucking hate yg entertainment. they have the biggest kpop girl group LOCKED in their basement when they could be (and i mean this in the most business-like way not morally) milking money of the quad. they're yg's biggest hope at not being bankrupt atm so it's a damn fucking mystery to me as to how they aren't doing anything. (jk i just realized lisa solo album soon, but i still need a ot4 cb hELLO)

i stopped looking forward to the teasers. rest > kpop boys. i don't want to sound like a cult member but have you tried checking out nct? are they just not your thing? (i get it tho, that's one hard group to get into). and yes i do stan enhypen!

wow i love how long these asks are! they're like online penpals. but i also want to ask about you! how have you been lately? are you feeling okay both mentally and physically? how's the weather there? do you have anything that you want to talk about? maybe an interesting book you read? feel free to bring up anything you want to share! i'm getting conscious about talking about myself HAJHSJ

and yet another long answer B) i am sooo sorry T___T should these ask exchanges feel draining to you, feel free to stop sending them in AAAA

#toff.asks #wild anon 🐺

3 notes · View notes

beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years

Text

What if moonshadow elves lost knowledge about themselves?

Hello, hope you have a nice day ! :D

(wait, is it day, for you?) hem! Anyway.

I was analylzing Moonshadow elves again and now I’m asking myself something, wonder what you would think about it:

Remember my “epiphany about the moon arcanum”?, when I said there’s maybe another side of their arcanum Moonshadow elves don’t know about? Something more life-light related:hope.

At first I said “they don’t know about” without really thinking about it. But, what if it’s true? I mean, what if there truly is a part they don’t know about their arcanum, or maybe forgot along the years? What if the war made Moonshadow elves focus so much on death-kill and all they kinda…. lost some of their knowledge about themselves?

(I think I remember one of your old analysis (I think it was you, I can’t find it anymore), where you compared “young ethari” in the endcredits to the actual one. Where we saw him first doing jewelry, full of hope about life, and the actual one who let that aside to focus on the war)

Add to this their community is described as “really close-knit”, which means more or less isolationism and so a stagnant, unable to evolve society. A society where the same rules were applied for centuries and so inevitably lost their deep meaning with time.

I thought it was maybe exaggerated to think this way, but then I remembered the creators said there is 5000years of history in TDP. Even with longer lifespan, there’s no way elves didn’t forget some things with time. (I compare this situation to another one: some discoveries were recently made in egypt, and we learned that a few thousands years ago egyptian themselves re-discovered things they had discovered several centuries prior and forgot)

So I tried to find proof in the show and the novelization, and guess what? We have some! (or, well, it’s more my HC, but as I said, it’ just a theory)

I think this way especially because of Runaan, who was so sure there was “only one way to release”. But then, Zym came and cut Rayla’s ribbon. My personal HC on this is that only the life who was supposed to be avenged can release the assassin from the binding. It would make sense when you know Moonshadow elves “take life but they do not take it lightly”. But even if I’m mistaking, the central fact is that there is more than one way and, clearly, Moonshadow elves don’t know it (if the leader of the assassins doesn’t, then who could?)

What I find interesting here, is that Runaan recites this ritual at the beginning, about how precious life is, like a litany but the way he insists (especially in the novel) about killing Ezran even after he saw the egg, could be the proof it’s just that, a ritual. A ritual whose words lost all their sense, their deep meaning for his people.

Ok, it’s not much, but I think the combination of isolationism, stucking to rules without understanding them deeply and time, is the perfect recipe to lose your way, no?

Oh, and a crazy other point in between these two theories about “hope” and “lost knowledge” woud be: If there is another aspect of the moon, other elves more hope-related (like Ethari or Rayla), why not another form?

Like sunfire elves have heat and light-being mode, Moonshadow elves could have something else too?. It’s probably stupid, I’m only thinking this way because of how Rayla feels while in moonshadow form in the novelization. It’s not that she hates it or something, but it makes her feel dizzy, as if she wasn’t suited for this. And if not, maybe it’s because she’s suited for another form?

(sorry, I hope I’m coherent on this one, I’m a little exhausted and my thoughts are a little messy ^^’)

______________

Okay, @lily-lilou, just let me catch my breath, this whole thing is a ride and I loved it. We definitely vibing here, fam.

whew

Okay, from the top, because I’ve had a lot of these thoughts myself and I’m so stoked to see someone else independently coming up with them!

Yes 100% to Moonshadows losing a part of their own history. (And yeah, I do have a post somewhere on Ethari’s evolution. Probably called it that iirc) If we’re right about Moonshadows having lived in Katolis before the lands were divided, living right near their own Nexus as the Sunfires still do, then when they packed up and left, it’s very possible they literally couldn’t bring everything with them.

I have a quirky little hc that there are still, to this day, Moonshadow villages hiding behind ancient protection spells in Katolis, and that people wander past them every day and have no idea. But it’s one thing not to be able to pack up your actual village. It’s another to leave behind records of your people’s past, their accomplishments and dealings and discoveries.

*eyes Lujanne’s truly massive library, with its huge walls covered in runes and books* This is where the full history of the Moonshadow people probably is kept. And no one has access to it but her.

Those who headed east would only know what they carried with them, and what was handed down orally through the generations. But see, if my headcanon about the Moonshadow assassins being created at that time ends up being true, then that’s probably bad news for history and truth. When you create a whole new class within your culture, you need to bolster it with ideology. You use myth, cultural norms, and current events to make it seem important.

You tell everyone that being an assassin is the most honorable job there is. And then it’s suddenly cool to be an assassin.

If there were no Moonshadow assassins before the humans were booted out west, then everything Runaan says to Rayla, everything he believes, is pretty young compared to his people’s full history, which he may not know, at least in its true and undistorted form. It’s an illusion. Rhetoric. Propaganda meant to hold soft elves who deeply value life to the hardest task they’ll ever undertake: taking that life from another, for a cause they cannot turn away from, a purpose they are culturally indebted to. Because their people, their princess (?), was the one who asked for the humans to be spared, and so every mistake the humans make from that point on is the Moonshadow elves’ duty to handle.

Runaan was wrong about how many ways there are to release. Has Zym truly been the only victim who wasn’t actually dead, in a whole thousand years? Honestly, probably not, knowing how politics works. But see, if you have an elite squad devoted to serving Xadia, and you tell them that their hands will literally fall off and they will die if they don’t do their jobs because there is only one way to release the ribbon they’re honor-bound to wear, they will take their target or die trying. And if you maybe exaggerated reports of the victim’s death for political purposes and actually have them in a dungeon, or they fled to the human lands as a refugee, or any number of other squirrelly options that Moonshadows aren’t naturally inclined to consider, then you can literally get away with murder-by-proxy. Or containment. Or intimidation. Or whatever your purpose is in taking out a human target who may or may not even be guilty of the crime you allege against them. It might not even be Zubeia and Avizandum’s fault. Unless they can detect truth and lies, they can be deceived by someone unscrupulous with an agenda of their own.

Long paragraph long, there are a lot of problems with the existence and practical duties of Moonshadow assassins. They’re kind of like the War Doctor: born form conflict, and thus only able to serve it, instead of peace. Yes, we all want Runaan to get his happy ending, retire, go home to his soft husband. But really, the whole institution of the assassins needs to go. It was born of war, and if Xadia and the human lands make peace, truly, then the assassins should be dissolved. As I said in one of my fics, Moonshadow assassins are Xadia’s dark magic, turning death into power. It’s gotta stop on both sides.

One of my oneshots for January’s Ruthari Week played with the idea of Ethari having a moonform instead of a shadowform, because yes to elves having two kinds of forms in each culture! I would love to see that for all the elves. And if we use Sunfire elves as a kind of roadmap, with “sun” and “fire” being the heat- and light-beings, then maybe the other elves get their two forms from their names as well. Or so my headcanon went for that fic: a moon form to balance the shadow form, where the elf’s body can glow like the full moon. I didn’t really touch on what that form’s ability would be, but I suppose, logically, it would serve as a portable full moon, powering other nearby Moonshadows even when the moon was down, or new, or a small crescent.

Okay, that’s just fun. I like that idea a lot. The only time “just stand there and look pretty” can be used as a battle tactic!

I can see Rayla getting to have the rare Moonshadow power. That would make her a good balance for Callum and his unusual arcanum as a human. Part misfit, part superpower. It would also probably be a power that puts her closer to Ethari’s soft and protective attitude, no matter what the power really is, since the assassins in Moonshadow culture have clearly adopted their natural shadowy form as a mission tactic, attacking specifically on full moon nights. Literally any other kind of power is probably going to be softer, lighter, more lively and bright, in concept if not literally so. Maybe the other power kicks in on new moons? or is available at any time? I really hope we get a second Moonshadow power of some kind. I am down for all the extra worldbuilding!

Thanks once again for your thoughts! *fist bump* Moonshadow elves. You get it.

#asks #tdp speculatoin #tdp headcanons #moonshadow elves #rayla #runaan #callum #submission

32 notes · View notes

revchainsaw · 4 years

Text

Demon Wind (1990)

Greetings and blessings upon you my flock! Welcome to the Cult of Cult. I am your pastor and priest of pop culture, ordained minister of genre films, the good reverend Chainsaw McGraw. You may just call me Reverend Chainsaw. Come and accept our sacrament upon the altar of online internet reviews. Our first holy offering is an absolute treasure, 1990′s Demon Wind. An offering ripped from the blood inked pages of the Evil Dead’s Necronomicon Ex Mortis, Demon Wind is not quite an unofficial entry into the world of Ash and the Deadites, but if you have exhausted the Catalogue of Sam Raimi Horror flicks (and let’s be honest, if you’re reading a Tumblr review of Demon Wind, you probably have), then Demon Wind will scratch that itch for sure.

The Message

Our anointed offering opens upon a boarded up farm house owned by simple country occultists George and Regina Carter. There’s a Mean Girls reference to be made here. George and Regina are defending their homestead from an unseen force (A Demon Wind some might say) through a Christian/Witchcraft combination of gospel music, a set of holy daggers, and a diary full of Regina’s spells. Unfortunately it’s not very effective, and George is possessed. George kills Regina, drops a snow globe, and for some inexplicable reason the farmhouse explodes bringing the films epilogue to a close.

With that we are brought to the year 1990 where our rag tag group of heroes converge upon the supernaturally supercharged Carter farm with one mission in mind, helping a homie sort out his shit. What a great group of friends; I can barely get the crew together for a game night but our protagonist Cory has a group of friends so tight they are willing to drop everything and drive untold miles to nowhere in particular just because he had a bad dream. Speaking of “tight” friends, of our doomed party, no friends are so tight as Chuck and Stacey, but we’ll get to that, in short order. Let us meet the fellowship of ding dongs who will battle the blustery bogeys of Demon Wind.

Cory is the star of the show. A fairly blasé everyman who’s so caught up in his chosen one journey that he can’t even bother to be slightly interesting. He is the grandchild of the oh so fetch (see I got to it) Regina/George pairing from earlier in the film. Cory is haunted by mysterious dreams, and a tragic reunion with his demented father, which draw him to the Carter farm. There is however more to meets the eye, you see Cory is from the planet Namek. Watch the movie, you’ll catch my drift.

Elaine is Cory's girlfriend and wants nothing more than to pull her pants down in public to bring a smile to his face.

Dell is Cory’s friend? Bully? Enemy? it’s not entirely clear. It seems Dells role in this story is to be an unabashed asshole and chauvinist to every character that interacts with him. He is also perhaps Elaine’s brother, or someone's brother. Listen, you’d have to pay wayyyy more attention than this movie warrants to parse out all the relationship dynamics in this flick. Let’s just say, Dell is here, and despite how he acts, the other characters seem to be ok with that fact.

Terri is Dell’s girlfriend and a good friend of Elaine. Despite being on the arm of a typical 80s teen flick bad guy, Terri seems to be the most eligible bachelorette on the Carter farm. Or so it may seem, but as I’ll explain later I think there is a truer love than can be expressed that really keeps Terri from leaving Dell.

Jack is a Big Ol’ Nerd. He speaks like the writers were convinced using a thesaurus was enough to convince us that the guy is existentially unfuckable. The guy is basically just Billy from Power Rangers, but instead of piloting a badass Triceratops Zord he just kids very mildly bummed when the love of his life is transformed into a very judgmental spontaneously combusting doll.

Speaking of spontaneously combusting dolls, the victim of that very unfair end is Bonnie. Bonnie clearly had way more confidence in the love of her bookish beaux than she should have. The betrayal is immense, not that Jack couldn’t save her, but just in the fact that when she meets her demise (despite the fact that he promised he’d protect her) he is not at all distraught. Poor Bonnie, she is by far the most human feeling of the cardboard cut out female protagonists in this film and she deserved better. Let’s be honest, Jack was looking for an out, and Bonnie was just too real for this movie.

And Now, without further ado, I’d like to introduce the greatest power couple in the history of B Movie Horror Cinema: Chuck and Stacy. If you think my introduction is a bit much, I promise that the film goes much further. Demon Wind begins it’s love affair with this bromance in delightfully extravagant style. There’s magic, explosions, opera, karate, beer and bunnies and a big ol middle finger to fucking Dell. Chuck had at once been romantically involved with Terri, but things went south somehow and he claims that he still holds a flame for her. Despite this continued insistence I think it’s plain to see that Chuck found comfort, magic, and a ride or die hunk in the arms of Stacey. Stacey is a suave, sharp, smooth talking guy, whose only desire in life seems to be whatever keeps Chuck around, and that seems to mean a lot of stage magic and martial arts! I could write about Chuck and Stacey all day, so I’ll move on from here.

The cast of this film is wild and honestly even the weak ones are fun to watch. There is no character on the roster who is easy to mistake for another. That is why it is so fun to watch them meet their demise and even more fun to see them return under the possession of the demon wind as oopy goopy caricatures of their human selves. And this does go on for quite awhile. Unfortunately even Chuck and Stacey are not enough to protect the surreal landscape in which they find themselves. At one point in the film a second set of friends drop by to add 2 more bodies to the massacre. Willy and Reena, a gangly set of clothing accessories who are given legs, but hey Ear Ring and Beret, I mean Willy and Reena are still fun to see torn to shreds.

The movie ultimately reveals that the madness was sparked by the fact that a cult worshipping a Demon God named Delos had actually built the homestead and the cursed ground they stand upon is the stage for the cult leader, a preacher named Anders to finally become the host of said Demon God. As interesting as that lore may sound on paper, it’s not particularly well executed, and Cory’s role to play in all of this is even more vague. All in all the 3rd act of this film feels a bit anti-climatic even if it does feature a demon superhero fight.

All that said I’d like to move on to the next phase of our sacred liturgy. The sacred and profane, the highs and lows of this movie.

Benediction

Best Feature: What the What?

The best feature of Demon Wind has to be how bizarre it is. It throws everything it can think of at the audience. Burning Skeletons leap from Crosses, eggs that hatch into piles of worms, EXPLODING BABY DOLLS, Cow skulls with long sticky tongues made of human intestines! They certainly sacrificed logic in order to insure they provided the audience with something they haven’t seen before.

Best Kill/ effect: A Cowmen Album Cover!

The best effect in Demon Wind is also it’s best kill. while investigating a barn on the Carter property, which is full of occult symbols, animal remains, and fun Texas Chainsaw Massacre style crafts. One of the crafts catches the eye of Beret, I mean Reena. You know by her hat that she knows a thing or to about fine art. This particular piece of barn décor is a human skeleton with a cow’s skull. As she is inspecting this “beautiful” piece, what appears to be a human intestine, flies from the mouth of the cow skull and wraps around Reena like a chameleons tongue. The intestine begins to retreat into the jaw of the skull bringing Reena’s head along with it. The skull chomps down into Reena, we get a satisfyingly bloody show, and Reena’s body winds up hanging limp from its mouth.

Second place belongs to Bonnie, but we’ve already spoken to that bizarre spectacle.

Best Scene: I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Stacey!

Chuck and Stacey enter the scene. I know I’m inconsistent in how I spell Stacey/Stacy. This scene was mentioned above and you just have to see it. Watch until Cory intervenes.

Best Character(s): Stacey Cassidy and the Sundance Chuck

Stacey is the best character in this film, but as I’m sure he wouldn’t accept this honor alone I have to make it a tie. Chuck and Stacey are just so good. Every moment they are on screen is a treasure. The introduction of these two just received the honor of best scene, but they shine as Demons and in an even longer sequence leading to their demise. They take the watch at the Carter home and from the fog emerges a t!ddy ghost, my congregants will be familiar with this sort of creature, who attempts to lure them outside. Stacey puffs up Chucks confidence calling him “John Wayne”, Chuck proposes they go on a Tahitian vacation, but Stacey wisely wary of voodoo suggests Vegas. And there you have it, these two pure good boys are surviving this flick and they are getting married in Vegas. Unfortunately, they decide to speed things up a bit, and decide that although they are not tempted by the t!ddy ghost, that they can use their karate magic to defeat the demonic hordes. They march out into the woods, but we can add the power of love to the list of things that are no use against the Demon Wind. Our best boys meet their fates together like two old west heroes, guns blazing! Oh, oh, but they come back as demons and they eat Dell, so thank God for that.

Worst feature: I ordered these Deadites from Wish

The villains are not particularly interesting. It’s boring, goopy, bad mouth piece demons that have appeared in hundreds of demon flicks already by this point, and it really makes you want to go back to the unexplained paranormal happenings from earlier in the movie rather than fighting these dollar store Deadites. The fact that the film leans into this in it’s third act really makes the film feel incredibly front loaded.

Worst scene: Cory in the House

Pretty much any scene that focuses on Cory is a bit weak. He’s just not fun. He gets to transform into an anime character in the end of the film and he’s still melodramatic and boring. This is often a problem with main characters in films, the writers don’t want them to be unlikeable or too quirky so the fun parts are always the supporting cast.

Worst Character: Dude, you’re NOT getting a Dell!

Don’t get me wrong, I hate Dell. But Dell is a big dumb goon who is just so fun to watch suffer and act like an utter meathead, and being hateable is not the worst thing a character can be. For this reason I have to give the worst character award to Cory; for many of the reasons I spoke about above.

Summary:

How fitting that a B movie gets a B. But that’s really a great place for this movie to be. So many big Hollywood productions don’t deserve that spot. Though Demon Wind may drag in the middle, and the characters and effects may be quite corny, it is certainly not boring. Demon Wind is eye candy even though it looks so ugly. It has some of the most loveable murder lambs in the genre and one of my favorite bromances in all of cinema, If you are a fan of Gonzo Horror then Demon Wind is a must see. If you are not all that into that sort of thing I promise you’ll have a good time. I highly recommend it.

Overall Grade: B

2 notes · View notes

whump-tr0pes · 5 years

Text

Honor Bound 2 - 13

Honor Bound 2 - 13 (will not be a victim) @badthingshappenbingo (requested by the one and only @sableflynn)

Red X is for posted, white X is for requested.

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel series to Honor Bound.

AO3

Cw: threats of death

Isaac paused in absolute shock, his mouth hanging open at Sam. They reached out with both hands and rested them against his shoulders, placing a gentle pressure, pushing Isaac oh-so-slightly back.

“Please don’t do this,” they repeated.

He blinked. “How can you…defend him…after what he did to you…” His vision blurred with furious tears.

“I’m not defending him,” they whispered. “I’m defending you.”

He shook his head slowly. “I…don’t…”

“I don’t care if he deserves it or not.” Their voice was gaining in strength. “I don’t care if he deserves to be tortured. Maybe he does. I don’t care. But don’t…” They bit their lip, staring beseechingly up at him. “Don’t be the one to do it. Don’t be like him.”

“Sam…”

“Please.” Tears started in their eyes. “Please. I know you’re not like him.”

The fight rushed out of Isaac and he slumped to his knees. Suddenly Sam was catching him, wrapping their arms around him, falling to their knees with him. They buried their face in his neck, stifling a sob as it worked its way out.

“Don’t sacrifice your soul, Isaac,” they whispered. “Please. You can’t be like him.”

“I liked it,” Isaac sobbed.

“But you stopped.” They squeezed him tighter. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

After a moment, Sam wiped their face on their sleeve and drew in a slow, deep breath. They turned to face Gavin. He had scrambled up on his knees again, staring at Isaac with terrified eyes. They stopped in front of him. He couldn’t seem to look at them, his eyes fixed on their shirt as they stood before him. Their hand went out and touched his chin, guiding his face up until he was forced to look at them. Their lips trembled and it took them a moment to speak.

“I am not your victim anymore.”

They let his face drop and took a faltering step back. Isaac caught them as they dissolved into sobs, great heaving breaths seizing in their chest one right after the other. They threw their arms around him, muffling their cries against his shirt. He guided them away from Gavin to stand behind the others, holding each other as they both wept.

“Tell us about this tracker,” Gray said smoothly.

Gavin tore his eyes from Isaac and Sam in the corner to look up at Gray, the seething hatred in their eyes making him shudder. “Um…”

“Now.” They took a small step forward.

“No no no wait… Ok, ok, Jesus…” Gavin swallowed hard. “We apparently have, like, spies or something in Beringer that found your car while you were…um…” His eyes flicked over the spot on Gray’s chest where there was still a healing gunshot wound. He bit his lip. “Um…” His voice grew quiet. “Recovering.” Gray raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “And…um…a few families decided that it would be better to track you north and round up the whole…uh…operation…” His voice was heavy with implication.

“And that’s how you knew where to find us.”

“Um. Yeah.” He stared at the floor. His knees were starting to ache.

“And tell me, once again, why you’re here?” Gray’s voice was dripping with contempt.

Gavin trembled. “Um…” He shrunk lower against the ground. “Could I…maybe…get out of this?”

“No,” everyone replied in unison.

His head drooped. “Ok. I…um…” Tears began to burn in his eyes and he squeezed them shut. “My mom…wanted to do her own thing…she wanted you all to come to her so her plan was to…use me as bait…”

“And you had a problem with this…why?”

“Because…you’d probably fucking kill me…”

Gray snorted. “And you thought somehow that seeking us out would be a better alternative? Alone? Without backup?”

“Well, yeah, I…” His eyes flicked up. “If I could…explain myself first…” He turned his eyes back to the ground.”

Gray waved their hand as if presenting the opportunity on a platter. “Well. Now’s the time.”

“Um…” He looked shyly up at Vera. “When you…um…killed -”

“When I slaughtered your father like the animal that he is?” Her nostrils flared.

Gavin winced. “Um…when you killed him…and shot me…” He took a breath against the pain that flared as he mentioned it. “It…messed me up. Like…really messed me up. The smell of blood now, it…and the feeling I used to get…from…” He licked his lips and looked down.

“Speak, Gavin.” Gray’s voice was growing thin with impatience.

“Sorry, I…” He shuddered. “I can’t…I can’t…hurt…people. Anymore.”

A bitter laugh echoed through the basement as Isaac took a step forward, leaving Sam looking after him with wide eyes. “That’s fucking great. Fucking spectacular. You’ve been torturing and killing people your whole goddamn life. You nearly killed Sam, you shot Gray and nearly killed them too, you tortured Tori, you broke Finn’s hands, you fucked with Ellis’s head…” His voice was rising to a shout. “You brought back the man who tortured Vera for months…” He pushed past Gray as they took a step in front of him. “You broke me…” He shoved down a sob and threw off Gray’s hands as they closed around his arm. “And now, out of fucking nowhere you decide that’s not your thing anymore?” He grabbed the front of Gavin’s shirt and jerked him upright. His knees left the ground and he gave a cry of distress. “Just like that, you’re…fucking cured?” He dropped Gavin roughly to the ground as Gray pushed him back, grunting with the pain as they did. Isaac stood behind Gray, chest heaving, his eyes fixed on Gavin with withering hatred.

Gavin’s lips trembled, tears springing to his eyes. “I never…” His voice wavered. “I never broke you.”

Isaac threw himself at Gavin, bowling him over onto the ancient carpet. “Yes you DID!” he screamed. He grabbed Gavin roughly and shoved him onto his back. Gavin wailed in terror. “You broke me! You beat me and cut me open and made me beg, you made think I was going to die alone…” Sobs were breaking up his words. “You took S-Sam away from me…you made me hurt for, for weeks after we got away…”

“Isaac, no!” Sam was watching in horror. Vera was standing closest to them and they latched on to her. “Please…”

Vera bit her lip as they looked down at Sam. She crossed the room and she and Gray dragged Isaac off of Gavin. Gray cried out as their wound complained. “I still have nightmares every night because of you, I hurt Sam because of one of my nightmares…” His face was contorted with rage, tears streaming. “I still hurt and I still scream at night and I still feel broken because you…you just wanted to hurt me!”

“I’m sorry,” Gavin whispered.

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOU’RE SORRY!” Isaac bellowed. “I don’t want to hear you’re sorry, I don’t want to hear it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Gavin cried from where he was slumped on his side on the floor.

Isaac was fighting Vera and Gray’s hold on him, eyes fixed on Gavin. “I want you to…” He sobbed brokenly. “I want you to…” He collapsed to the floor. Sam darted to his side and threw their arms around him. He wailed into their shoulder, arms locking around their waist like they were an anchor in a storm. Sam’s tears fell into his hair as they pressed their lips against his forehead. He trembled in their arms.

Gavin was watching them with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, almost too faintly to hear.

“How could you expect me to forgive you?” Isaac whimpered, his face still buried in Sam’s shoulder. “How could you come here and think we wouldn’t kill you?”

Gavin shuddered against the carpet. “You…you’re going to kill me?”

“Yes,” Isaac sobbed.

“No,” Gray said firmly.

Isaac quailed. “You can’t fix this,” he whispered. “I don’t care if you came to help. You can’t ever fix this.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You tortured me for days…you tortured all of us…because it was fun…” He spat out the word. “You can’t fix…me…”

“I…I did come to help…” Gavin’s voice was small and timid.

“What, you all of a sudden decide you’re on our side now?” Isaac snapped bitterly.

“My parents fucking betrayed me!” Gavin cried. He bit his lip against the tears that had started again. He looked warily around the room as everyone’s eyes fixed on him. He swallowed hard and kept going. “My dad strung me up as bait to get…” He could barely look at Vera. “To get you…” He whimpered like a child. “He was willing to risk my life to bring you back…and my mom…my mom blames me for that…” He pressed the side of his face against the filthy carpet. “Maybe that’s why she was willing to risk me to catch you…maybe…if I died, then at least she wouldn’t have to…have to look at me every day and think I killed my dad…” He was weeping loudly now. “And she fucking cut me off because I couldn’t…I couldn’t torture someone…she gave me someone and I couldn’t…do it…she cut me off because I didn’t want to see you again…”

“You what?” Gray was staring at Gavin with distrust written all over their face.

“I…I didn’t want to do it…she said she’d use me as bait so she could catch you all and so…so I could torture you all again…and I didn’t want to…”

“And just like that we’re supposed to believe you?” Vera snapped. “We just have to take you word on it that you couldn’t torture some poor idiot and now we’re all good?”

“You don’t get it,” he whimpered against the floor.

“No,” she seethed. “I don’t get it. “I’ve never felt sad because I couldn’t torture people anymore. You’re right.”

“It scares me now,” he whispered. “When I think about it, about cutting someone, about making them hurt…” He shuddered. “It just makes me feel scared. It makes me think of…of…” He closed his eyes and swallowed a sob.

She took a step closer. “Makes you think of me ripping out your father’s throat?” Her lips pulled back over her teeth.

“Yes.” The word was barely a breath.

“Good.” Gavin’s eyes flew open and he focused on her as she took another step towards him. “I want you to remember that forever. I want you to remember that that is what happens to people who fuck with me. Who fuck with us.” She reached behind her to reach for Tori’s hand for a moment. “And I want you to remember that that is what’s going to happen to you if you betray us.” She stood over him, hands clenched as her body trembled, ready to fight. She quickly crouched before him and he flinched back, bleating in terror. Her hands shot out and made fists in his shirt, dragging him forward until their noses were almost touching. “Do you understand, bitch boy? Do you understand what’s going to happen to you if you ever even think about hurting me or my family again?”

He nodded, his entire body bouncing against her grip with the force of the movement. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. “I swear to god. I swear I will never, never even think about it again. Please…” His voice broke as tears rose in his eyes again. “Please…”

She dropped him unceremoniously to the floor. “Good.” She stood and looked to the others, ignoring his mewl of pain as his chest wound complained against the rough treatment. “I’d say it’s time to move.”

Finn and Ellis both heaved out a breath, clutching each other like they would both keel over. “Yeah,” Finn breathed. “Let’s move.”

“You’re taking me with you…?” Gavin looked frantically between them both. “I’m not…I’m not gonna fucking last out there.”

“Oh, perfect.” Isaac pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Now he wants our protection.” His lip curled in a sneer.

“Please,” Gavin begged. He pulled against the rope around his wrists. “Please.”

Gray turned and fixed Gavin with a withering glare. “You’re coming with us, alright,” they said, their voice low and dangerous. “You’re going to tell us all the tricks, all the checkpoints we don’t know about. You’re going to tell us all the places with your spies. You’re going to tell us everything we need to know to reach the north safely.”

“I don’t really know that much about our operat-” He cut himself off in a startled yelp as they took a furious step towards him. “No no no wait wait! I really don’t know! I swear! I’m not really in charge of much…you…” His voice grew petulant. “You fucking blew up everything I did…I haven’t exactly had time to build up operations again…”

“You figured your first priority after I wrecked your face was to go after us again?” Isaac snarled.

“Not…not all of you.” Gavin shrunk away from him on the carpet. “Just…just you. And V-Vera.”

“How’d that work out for you?” she snapped.

“Um…” Gavin looked away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he pulled again at the rope, lying awkwardly on his side.

They all turned away from him. Finn and Ellis crept down the stairs until they were in the circle, too. Edrissa remained frozen at the top of the steps, staring at Gavin with terror in her eyes.

“What, are we just gonna…” Finn ducked their head. “Take him with us?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna take this fucking nightmare factory with us north? What if he’s hurt people up there? What if they think we’re with the syndicates when we get there?”

“I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that,” Tori mumbled. “I know a few people up there that will be able to vouch for me.”

“They won’t vouch for him.” Gray shot a glance at Gavin. He flinched away.

“So they don’t have to.” Vera’s voice was poisonous. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind getting their hands on a syndicate member up there.”

“What?” Gavin squeaked.

Isaac threw a hateful glance his way. “Shut up.”

“But, but you can’t just…” Gavin was writhing against his bonds, gasping in panic. “You can’t just…give me to them…”

“Why not? Is that less than you deserve?” Isaac snapped.

“No,” Gavin breathed. “Please, please don’t…” Helpless tears started down his cheeks.

“Shh. Let the grownups talk.” Gray turned away from Gavin and ignored his muttered pleas. “Either way, you think we’ll be safe if we bring him?”

“Yeah.” Tori was shaking, clinging to Vera’s side. “We’ll be ok.” Vera wrapped her arm around her shoulder protectively and squeezed her tight.

“What about the tracker?” Ellis’s eyes were shifting between everyone in the circle.

“We’ll find it and take it off.”

“What if there are more than one? What if we miss one?”

“Hey, bitch boy,” Vera threw over her shoulder. “Did you hear any details about these trackers?”

“No,” he whimpered. “I didn’t hear anything. Just that one existed.”

“Ok.” Vera pressed her lips together. “We’ll just do a thorough sweep.” She met Ellis’s eyes. “We’ll be ok. Trackers with that kind of range aren’t exactly tiny.”

“Then what?” Sam was latched onto Isaac, their hands clenched around his shirt.

“Then…we figure out how to kill Mommy Dearest,” Vera growled.

“No,” whimpered Gavin. “You can’t, please…she’s all…she’s all I have left…”

“What happened to Mark?” Ellis spat the name with contempt. “You two seemed real chummy when we last saw him.”

“He’s not…close family…”

“And yet you took all six of us as revenge for ‘taking your family away’,” Ellis threw back at him, punctuating the words with airquotes.

“I was just…” The words died in his throat.

“Oh, do tell. Please tell us what you were ‘just’ doing,” Ellis snarled.

“I was…just…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Being dramatic.”

“Now that’s the understatement of the fucking century.” Vera clenched her jaw in disgust.

“Enough,” Gray said gently. “Do we all agree, then? We take him north, figure out our next step from there?”

“I wasn’t aware this would come to a vote.” Isaac quivered against Sam.

Gray fixed their gaze on him. “Of course. If we’re going to take this risk, both to our safety and to our…mental health…” They swallowed. “Then yes, it should come to a vote.”

“I say we take him,” Vera said, “and let him suffer the consequences once we get north.”

Gavin shivered on the floor.

“I say we leave him here,” Ellis said bitterly. “Let him figure out how to survive. Trust fund jackass…”

“We should take him,” Finn mumbled. “He might be able to give us information we need.”

Gray turned to Isaac and Sam, held tight in each other’s arms. “What do you think?”

Sam huddled closer against Isaac. “We should take him,” they said softly. “He could help us.”

Gray looked to Isaac. “Isaac?”

Isaac’s jaw was flexed, his eyes staring straight ahead at nothing. “I don’t want him anywhere near me,” he whispered.

Gray inhaled slowly and blew out a steadying breath. “I think we should take him. He could prove useful. And I don’t want him free to…get into trouble.” Their face darkened. “As long as we know where he is, he can’t surprise us.” They put a gentle hand on Tori’s shoulder. “Your opinion counts, too. You’re part of the family.”

Tori squeezed Vera’s hand. “Um…” Her hand went unconsciously to her neck, to the bruises there. “I…I can’t.”

“You can’t have him around?”

“I can’t decide,” she whimpered.

Gray’s hand softened on her shoulder. “Why not?”

“I don’t want him near me.” Her voice rose in a nervous whine. “I don’t want him…” She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Vera’s neck. Vera stroked her hair gently, her gaze locked on Gavin. “But I think it’s for the good of the…of the family. Of the resistance. To get him north.”

“You wouldn’t have to be around him,” Vera murmured. “We’d keep him away from you.” Tori nodded, tears wetting Vera’s shirt.

Gray exhaled slowly. They looked up at Edrissa, still perched on the top of the stairs like she was about to run. She hasn’t. She’s still here. They licked their lips. “What do you think, honey? You’re with us now, you should get a vote.”

She shrunk back behind the railing, her hands clutching the bars. “We can’t let him go,” she whispered.

Gray paused. “Why not?”

“He’s…he’s seen me…” Her hand went to wrap tightly around her forearm, where the still-healing seared-off tattoo still burned. “Please… He can’t go back. He can’t tell them…” Her lips trembled. She shrank back, a hand drifting up to protect her head as the crumpled into herself.

Gray made their way to the bottom of the stairs and began climbing up to her, slowly. She watched them with terrified eyes. “I think I understand,” they soothed. “You don’t have to say anything else. It’s alright.” She nodded jerkily, tears almost spilling over.

Gray turned back to the group, their eyes moving over each of them in turn. “It sounds like we have our verdict,” they said softly.

“No,” Isaac growled. He took a step towards Gray, Sam still hanging off his arm. “I…I can’t.” His voice broke.

“We’ll keep him away from you,” Gray murmured. Their hands went to his shoulders. “You won’t have to -”

“It’s my job to protect you,” he seethed, eyes burning with tears. “It’s…it’s my job…” He swiped his hand over his eyes. “And I can’t…protect you…” His chest was heaving, the breaths coming faster. “…with him around. I can’t…” He stumbled and Gray caught him. They winced as their injury flared. “I can’t keep you safe when my mind is…is broken…because I keep seeing him…” He pointed an accusing finger in Gavin’s direction.

Gray’s eyebrows pulled together as their hands became firmer on Isaac’s shoulders. “We’ll all take care of each other,” they said softly. “I think it’s for the best that we keep him close, keep an eye on him. Maybe use his knowledge. He won’t have to be around you. And he won’t…he won’t hurt you again.”

Isaac erupted into sobs and sunk to his knees, pressing his face into his hands. “I can’t,” he wailed. “I can’t.”

Gray knelt in front of him. “Yes you can,” they urged. “You can do this. You’re strong, Isaac. You’ve done harder things than this. And I…” They blinked against the tears that suddenly blurred their vision. “I hate to ask more of you, after everything you’ve done. After everything you’ve given. But please…” They stroked a hand through his hair and pulled him to their chest. “Please be strong for us one more time.”

Isaac whimpered as Sam’s arms went around him, too. “I’m sorry,” they whispered against his shoulder. “Isaac…”

Isaac convulsed in a weak sob, raising his face to Gray. Sam shuddered at how tired he looked. How…resigned. He pulled his shirt up and wiped his face.

“Ok,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Fine. We take him with us.”

“You won’t have to be around him.” Gray squeezed his shoulder.

“I won’t have to be around him,” Isaac repeated. He blew out a slow breath from between his lips.

Gray’s gaze lingered on him for another minute before they stood and walked over to where Gavin was still lying, trembling. They towered over him. “Sounds like we’ve made a plan.”

Gavin relaxed, his face pulling into a look of tentative hope. “Does that mean I get out of this?” He moved his arms against the rope.

“No.” Gavin’s face fell. “You stay bound, and you’re going in the trunk.”

Continued here

@untilthepainstarts, @womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @insomniacscoprio, @whumpy101, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck, @omega-em-z-02, @whumps-the-word, @slaintetowhump

#honor bound universe #honor bound 2 #bad things happen bingo #I will not be a victim #whump #whump the whumper #sam is a smol bean #sam is a cinnamon roll #PTSD tw #threats of death tw #gunshot wounds #tied up #The Thing #my oc: Isaac

67 notes · View notes

welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

Want Something That Lasts Forever

The weight in his jacket pocket is getting heavier. Burning a hole. A metaphorical one. Because a literal one would probably freak David out and David is already worried enough and Killian is a very good friend. Who is willing to help David plan his proposal to Mary Margaret. Even if it messes everything else up in the process.

----

Rating: T with a heavy dose of CC captain charming-esque feelz Word Count: Just over 5K AN: Today’s Festive Fic Prompt A Thon comes from another delightful anon and is: "i planned out this super romantic proposal and you just ruined it by beating me to whole proposing thing." I’ve already done proposing at the same time, so here’s something a little different with an extreme influx of Captain Charming for good measure. And Narnia. For reasons.

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

----

“You think we should get flowers?” Killian hums—far too distracted to be even remotely helpful and he doesn’t have to look up to know David is glaring at him. That’s been a theme for the last few hours.

This has lasted several hours.

Already.

And he probably should have said no.

He wanted to say no. He had every intention of saying now. But David and Mary Margaret had gotten to the city a few days before and David had that look this morning—some kind of wide-eyed, enthusiastic, nervous thing that made Killian exhale dramatically and he was agreeing before he realized what he was doing and Emma’s gaze had gone a little glossy when she realized what was happening.

He considered that partially a win.

Even if it lost him some friendship points.

“What kind of flowers do you think?” David presses, and Killian has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning. That’s also not great. As far as friendship goes.

Because he figures this is pretty par for the friendship course.

Helping.

Planning.

Helping to plan.

A proposal.

David is going to propose to Mary Margaret. At Christmas. And it will be extravagant and over the top and, Killian is sure, there will be several different types of flowers. Mary Margaret will very likely cry.

She will definitely say yes.

And that’s nice. It’s better than nice really, because Killian is only kind of an ass and something vaguely Grinch-like and the only reason for either one of those things is because—

“Seriously,” David snaps, Killian nearly flying off the couch when the word feels like it reaches out to smack him across the face. With romance. Of the holiday variety. “Are you ok?” “Yup.” “No, really.” “No, really,” Killian echoes, but David has known him long enough to know a blatant lie when he hears one. It probably does some slapping of its own. “Although I am admittedly a little confused by this we who is buying flowers. I’m not sure how I feel about donating to the monetary cause of your wedding.” “This is not the wedding.” Killian shrugs.

“Do you have a romantic bone in your body?” David groans. That feels unfair. Killian doesn’t mention that. David is nervous enough already, he absolutely cannot cope with any sort of romance that involves Killian and his sister.

Maybe Killian will start texting Emma updates of the day. She’d enjoy that. He’d enjoy that. He’d enjoy it more if he was with her and going through his own plans and his own vaguely Christmas-type hopes, but—

David appears to be growling.

It’s very loud, whatever the sound is.

“Am I being a jerk about this?” David asks. He slumps forward when he mumbles the question, an obvious burst of nervous energy and Killian can’t help but feel for him.

All things considered, proposing at any time is a little terrifying. But proposing at Christmas — with their friends coming into the city and long-standing traditions that require an almost excessive amount of eggnog and mulled wine is something entirely different.

It requires a certain kind of romantic fortitude.

And a best man who is willing to spend all day going over flower options.

Killian assumes he’s going to be the best man at this wedding.

He will look very good in a tux. And Emma will look better in a maid of honor dress.

There’s the silver lining he’s looking for.

“A little,” Killian admits, “but you’re also freaking out. So I’m willing to overlook the jerkiness of it.” “Is jerkiness a word?” “No.” “You think I’m freaking out?” “I’m also a little offended that you don’t think you’re freaking out.”

David sneers, dropping onto the edge of the coffee table. He nearly knocks Killian’s feet off in the process. “Flowers? Thoughts?” “Oh, are we speaking in one-word questions now? That might get old pretty quickly.” David rolls his eyes. And his whole head.

Killian chuckles lightly, slumping further into the couch and the pinch in his lungs loosens just a bit. He can hear his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s louder when it vibrates against everything else in there.

“Poinsettias?” David asks.

“They’re ugly aren’t they? Also I’m somewhere in the realm of seventy-two percent positive that they represent death.” “That’s not a very good grade.”

“You want me to look it up?” “Yes, I absolutely do.” Killian clicks his tongue, but he can still make out the buzz of his phone and he’s closer to one-hundred percent positive that it’s Emma.

He’s right.

“Hey,” Killian breathes into the phone, Emma’s soft laugh in his ear. He can feel his smile. That’s only vaguely ridiculous. Decidedly romantic, though. “Are poinsettias deadly?” She doesn’t answer immediately. And Killian assumes that’s because she’s blinking at open air in their kitchen where, per the schedule, she and Mary Margaret are slated to be baking for the majority of the afternoon.

“Am I making that up?” Killian asks. “I feel like I'm making it up.”

David groans. “This is not helping my overall confidence!” “Swan, this is a very serious question about poinsettias, so if you’ve got any facts to share about the very ugly flower—” “Judgmental about poinsettias, aren’t we?” she mutters. Definitely smiling too.

He can tell.

What a weirdo.

“What are your thoughts about poinsettias, love?” “Well, they’re ugly,” Emma says, and Killian can’t help whatever expression takes over his face. David looks like he’s trying not to lay across the entire coffee table.

“I told you,” Killian cries.

David flips him off. “Do you have a better Christmas flower suggestion?” “It’s not my proposal.” “Yeah, but you’re helping and—” David makes that noise again, head falling into his hands and Killian kind of feels bad. He’s still annoyed that his day has been commandeered, but he’s known David for years and he genuinely can’t remember a moment when he wasn’t head over heels for Mary Margaret, so—

He moves back into the living room, flicking his finger against David’s right wrist. “Holly? Is that a flower?” “No,” David and Emma answer at the same time before she adds, “Why is he freaking out, exactly? Also, is this not a dangerous conversation we’re having?” David mumbles something that sounds like an agreement, but Killian’s willing to be a bit selfish for a moment. And talk to his girlfriend. Flirt with his girlfriend.

Still his girlfriend.

Especially tonight.

“Also,” Emma continues, voice dropping a bit, “poinsettias do not represent death.” David’s head finally jerks up, quick enough that Killian is briefly worried for the state of his neck, and Emma is not done. “They are, however, the victim of a long-standing urban legend that suggested they were poisonous. It lasted forever. In 1970 the FDA even published an actual pamphlet saying that one leaf could kill a kid.” “This is not great,” David grumbles. “How did they eventually decide that they weren’t deadly?”

“Uh—rats.” “Oh jeez.” “Did you say jeez?” Killian asks. “What year is it?” “The year of freaking out grooms,” Emma says. “That would suggest they’re getting married by the end of the year, though.” “Damn, that’s true.” “You two know I’m sitting here, right?” David sneers. Emma’s smile widens. Killian assumes. Knows, really.

He resists the urge to walk back to his coat. And directly out the door.

David is starting to look a little green.

“I do have eyes, yes,” Killian nods. “And your middle finger is going to get stuck like that if you keep it in that position for too long.” Emma snickers.

His heart may grow. It’s another Grinch-type joke.

“God,” David huffs. “Ok, so, uh—poinsettias aren’t actually deadly, but Em, Em, seriously, how did you know that?” “He wants to talk to me now, does he?” Emma quips. “I do have to go back to distracting the future bride at some point.” “Don’t jinx it!” “Is he insane?” “He might be,” Killian answers. “What are you baking?” “Right now? Chocolate chip, but that’s only because—” “—How did you know about the poinsettias?” David yells. Killian is going to run out of parts of his mouth to bite by the end of the afternoon.

“I know everything,” Emma answers simply, and he refuses to be held accountable for whatever that does to several different internal organs and the way his whole body surges forward when he laughs.

David droops. Directly onto the coffee table.

It is equally absurd and even more hysterical.

“That can’t possibly be comfortable,” Killian muses. “Or good for your spine.” David flips him off.

Third time’s the charm, or whatever.

“Is he laying on something?” Emma asks knowingly, and Killian’s mouth is going to get stuck in perpetual smile. “I’m really worried about the lasting damage it’s going to have on his vertebrae.” “I can still hear you,” David growls. “Ok, no to the poinsettias, just—what time is it?” “Almost two o’clock.” He sighs.

“You’re going to be late picking up the ring,” Emma mutters, only to gasp softly when she realizes what she’s said and the general proximity of Mary Margaret’s very well-tuned ears. “Ah, shit—David if you heard that, it’s fine, everything is fine and—Oh, hey M’s, you ready to keep baking?”

The green tinge in David’s cheeks grows more pronounced.

And Killian can’t quite hear Mary Margaret’s answer, but it doesn’t sound entirely suspicious and he finds he’s nodding encouragingly at David’s prostrate body before he can come up with all the reasons why that’s not helpful at all.

Emma’s still giving Mary Margaret assurances that it’s fine, everything is fine, no I’m just making sure Killian has —

“Champagne,” he suggests.

She hums, a thank you without actually saying the words, and that’s probably for the best because Killian is fairly positive David would have rolled onto the floor if they made it anymore obvious they were up to something. Mary Margaret is probably making that face.

With the eyebrow thing.

She’s very good at lifting her eyebrows. And making everyone feel like they’re about to get detention.

“Champagne,” Emma repeats. “We need champagne for later, right?” It sounds like Mary Margaret says yuh huh. That is decidedly un-Mary Margaret.

Killian grimaces, a quick glance towards David and the arm he’s got splayed across his face now and he doesn’t really think before he starts talking again, but his mouth is moving and there are words coming out and— “We’ll see you later, ok, love?”

She makes another noise in the affirmative, a mumbled string of something that sounds a bit like get me my own bottle of champagne, but then Killian is stuffing his phone in his back pocket and ignoring the desire to look at his jacket again and the smile he forces on his feels a little strained.

“Alright. Well, that went—” “—Terribly?” David asks. “Eh. We learned about poinsettias. That’s something, right?” “For what? Christmas trivia contests? Also did you think poinsettia had more t’s in it? It sounds like it should have more t’s.” “I’m genuinely starting to think you are going insane.” “Don’t we call it point-settia? Like that’s how you say it, right?” “This is the most ridiculous conversation we’ve ever had,” Killian says. “And we need to get your ring.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” “We’re starting to sound a little less enthused.” “Rats were poisoned, Killian.” He nods, lower lip stuck out and it’s only a little placating, but David hasn’t actually sat up yet, so maybe that’s exactly what he has to do. Friendship-wise. He’s very focused on the friendship aspect of this.

Like it’s karma.

For his own plans.

God, that might lose him points too.

“But not you,” Killian points out. “Or the presumed and eventual blushing bride. So, that’s something right?” David props himself up on his elbows. “You think she’ll blush?” “I think she’ll weep in extremely romantic fashion. Obviously. Seriously, are you not going insane?” “A little.” “Yeah, I figured. Ok, so aside from being stupid late to pick up your ring, what else do we have to do?” “Flowers. Maybe actually get champagne.” “That was a stroke of genius, right?” “Your girlfriend is incapable of lying.” Killian squeezes one eye shut. The word makes his stomach flip in quick succession. And if David weren’t slowly, but very obviously losing his mind, he would have noticed that. As it is, he just huffs out another bit of frustrated oxygen, hopping back to his feet and plastering his own fake smile on his face.

“Alright,” he says, clapping Killian on the shoulder. “We need to get Turkish delight, too.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Are you not aware of what Turkish delight is?” Killian shakes his head—partially in disbelief and partially in...no, all disbelief. “I’m very aware of what Turkish Delight is, but mostly in an Edmund Pevensie kind of way and—” “—Yeah, that’s exactly the vibe we’re going for.” “You want to vibe with Edmund Pevensie in your proposal?” “Oh, God, don’t say it like that,” David groans. “It’s her favorite book.” “Mary Margaret?” “Nah, the other person I want to marry.” “That was funny,” Killian says, falling into step with David when they walk towards the door and he refuses to be held accountable for whatever sound flies out of him when David’s fingers reach towards their jackets.

“Are you dying?” Killian shakes his head brusquely, not trusting himself to speak and he needs to stop carrying it in his jacket pocket. But he...well, he wants. With everything and then some, a quiet desire that’s crept up his spine and taken root in every inch of his brain and every part of his heart until it’s all he can think about. Like some sort of crazed romantic lunatic.

“Killian,” David prompts, and he actually flinches. This day is a disaster “Seriously, are you ok?” “You realize that Edmund Pevensie betrayed his family for Turkish delight, right? Like that’s a basic tenet of the story.” “But it’s good.” “Familial betray?” “Turkish delight. And Edmund redeems himself.” “In overtly religious ways,” Killian says. “Is this a Christmas story, even?” “Santa Claus is prominently featured, yes.” “You think he brought Turkish delight for Edmund after he became king?” Some of the tension between David’s shoulders almost visibly appears, a shaky laugh falling out of him. “At some point, when I’m presumably not insane, I will thank you for this, I swear.” “Don’t swear, Santa won’t appreciate it.” “Or maybe he’ll arm me with a bow.” “Weird, right? Just doling out weapons to children. How old was Susan supposed to be when they found Santa?” “He found them, technically.” “Remember when I said the poinsettia conversation was the most ridiculous we’d ever had?” Killian mutters, pushing his arms into his jacket. It feels heavier than usual. “I lied. This is definitely the most ridiculous.” “Entertaining, though?” “Now you’re fishing for compliments.”

David snorts, yanking his own jacket on and Emma is texting Killian. It is absolutely complaints about chocolate chip cookies and the fact that they are not snickerdoodles.

It is almost stupid how in love he is with his own girlfriend.

Despite his growing disdain for that particular moniker.

They’ll get there.

After an in-depth analysis of the entire Narnia franchise.

“It’s fair,” David agrees. “And Edmund figured his shit out, eventually. He was wavering even before he got Aslan and the not-so-covert religious allusions. Plus—” “—God, how is there more?” “This is it, really. It’s definitely Christmas-related, at least story-wise, because they make a big deal about Narnia under Jadis’ rule—” “—Who the hell is that?” “When is the last time you read the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?” Killian snaps his jaw. “I was, like, eight. Max. Should I know who Jadis is?” “The aforementioned witch,” David explains, swinging open the door and grabbing Killian’s keys off the hook nearby. Killian catches them. “Is named Jadis. It’s not important to the plot—” “—Seriously, is any of this important?” “Let me get to my point. Which is that, Narnia, while not explicitly a Christmas book, does highlight the overall importance of Christmas to the general zeitgeist and suggests that the arrival of good things will also inspire Christmas. To, you know—or whatever.”

“You just used the words explicit, zeitgeist and Christmas in the same sentence,” Killian says, and he is physically incapable of keeping a straight face.

“Christmas is good, is what I’m getting at.” “Mmmhm. Ridiculous. It shouldn’t be too hard to find Turkish delight, right?”

Wrong. Fundamentally and completely wrong.

“Maybe if he we were high kings of Narnia,” David grumbles, letting his forehead drop onto the shelf in the third Gristedes they’ve walked into in the last hour.

Killian sighs. “Only Peter was high king, God, get your act together.” “You couldn’t remember the witch’s name before!” “Yeah, but this is basic and—” “—What about like...speciality markets? What time is it now?” “Almost four.” “Shit. And we’re supposed to be at Belle and Scarlet’s at what time?” “Six.” “Shit. Again.” “I don’t even remember what street we’re on,” Killian says, tugging his phone out of his pocket and there are what, at first glance, appears to be several thousand texts there. And a few missed phone calls.

Honestly, everyone knows about this proposal except Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret may know too.

Killian hopes Mary Margaret doesn’t know.

“Lexington,” David answers.

“And?” “I don’t know. Some cross street that doesn’t have Turkish delight.” It’s wrong to laugh. It is. But Killian can’t help it and then David is joining and they’ve been to so many supermarkets.

“It’s pretty awesome that you’re doing all this,” Killian says. He didn’t mean to do that either, but that appears to be his MO for the day and David’s half smile might win him every potential friendship point.

An explosion of friendship points. “Yeah?” “Romantic, even,” Killian adds. “The swooning will be quick and imminent.” “Sounds less romantic.” “You’ve got no reason to be nervous.” David groans. “Yeah, that’s not how it works, really. This is—I mean, it’s a big deal, right? The rest of your life and happily and ever after and all of that?” “I’d suggest not using the phrase all of that in your proposal.” “A gentleman and a scholar, you are.” He smiles, a hand in his hair and eyes flitting back towards his phone screen. “I’m not saying it isn’t a big deal. It is. But you guys are—” Killian shrugs. “—I don’t know, the inspiration for all other romantic endeavors.” “I think you’re trying to impress me with your vocabulary.” “There’s another supermarket on 86th Street, we could probably try there.” David takes a deep breath, chest shifting and growing with the force of it, but then his hand is back on Killian’s shoulder and his smile is as honest as its been all day, dim memories of college-age dates and slightly different nerves and— “Thank you,” he says. “For—all of this. Narnia analysis not withstanding. It’s...I wouldn’t have have trusted anyone else to help me scour Manhattan for a dessert I really thought more people would be inclined to buy.” “You’ll make me blush.” “I’m serious. I’m freaking out a little and you’re—well, you’re you.” “I’m me?” Killian asks. “You,” David nods. “A good guy and willing to go along with my bullshit—” “—Seriously you have such a way with words.” “You got Emma to help distract Mary Margaret.” “That didn’t take much convincing,” Killian objects. “Your sister is a much better person than I am.” “And you’re stupid in love with her.” “Yeah, I am.” “Quick agree.” “Perpetually.” David presses his lips together, eyes narrowing slightly and Killian can almost hear the ideas and theories bouncing around his skull, but neither of them say anything and that’s probably for the best and they have to get to Fairway anyway.

They’re definitely at least five blocks away.

“You want to find some Turkish delight?” “Perpetually,” Killian repeats.

They end up buying seven boxes at Fairway. Just to be safe.

And Killian has to blink several times to make sure they’re in the right place when they get to Belle and Will’s apartment — an explosion of garland and tinsel and actual ornaments hanging from the ceiling. “Is that safe?” he asks Emma, hardly out of his jacket before she’s plastered to his side and Ruby definitely brought champagne. Opened it, as well, it seems.

“Absolutely not,” Emma mutters. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, eyes bright far too green to be anything except vaguely festive and a color Killian would be more than willing to stare at for the rest of the night, but then he’s flinching because Anna and Ariel are snapping crackers and Emma’s laugh seems to find its way under his skin and possibly into his soul and—

She’d very nearly touched his jacket.

“How’d today go?” she asks, fingers curling around the front of his shirt like she’s using him for balance.

He kisses her forehead.

On instinct.

“Was that the answer?” Emma mumbles. “Because it’s a very one-sided conversation we’re having here.” “You’re holding your own pretty well, love.” “Oh, two-fold critique.” “Is it good champagne?” “Did you get some?” He nods, nose brushing against her skin and he can’t help but wrap his arm around her middle, like he’s trying to make sure she doesn’t ever leave. He’s asking questions without actually voicing them.

David totally knew.

“I love you,” Killian says before he can stop himself.

Emma tilts her head up. “Yeah?” “Hopefully that wasn’t up for debate.” “Nah, it wasn’t. I just—that was nice. You look nice, did I mention that?” His cheeks flame, a heat that isn’t entirely uncomfortable, but might be a hint of nervous energy and the words are there, sitting on the tip of Killian’s tongue and begging to be said and asked and kissed. He can’t kiss out words.

He’s very willing to try.

“Are you ok?” Emma asks, pushing up on her toes to let her fingertips graze his jaw. His throat suddenly feels very small.

And he hadn’t been nervous before.

Not once.

Not when he was thinking about the question. Or practicing the question, muttering it under his breath in the shower or the backseat of Ubers, and that had drawn more than a few questionable glances, but that one driver had actually been nice when he explained and then they’d kind of practiced together and Killian had given that guy a five-star review.

He was pretty confident it was going to go well.

And yet.

Now, with the champagne and the specific color of Emma’s eyes and the threat of concussion by glass ornament quite literally hanging over him, he’s nervous. He wants it to be perfect. He wants it to be better than perfect, he wants—

David clinks the side of his glass, the room quieting almost immediately.

He’s not quite green anymore, but definitely paler than normal and Emma pulls herself closer to Killian.

“So, uh—” David starts, more than a few muted snickers and Killian swears he can feel Emma’s smile through his shirt. “It’s…” He exhales, shaky and excited and a slew of adjectives that practically ring with romance, stuffing his hand into his pocket to grab they box they picked up nearly an hour later than originally scheduled.

Emma sniffles.

Killian kisses her hair again.

Mary Margaret gasps.

So, maybe she had no idea.

“I love you, Mary Margaret,” David says, dropping onto one knee. Emma is not the only one crying now, Killian’s gaze flitting around the room to find their friends with matching looks on their faces, more than a few hands covering mouths and Ariel keeps having to drag her palm over her cheeks to keep the tears from flowing too freely.

“I can’t remember when I didn’t,” he adds, “and I—well, this seemed like the perfect moment. For us. With everyone else we love here and—” He reaches behind him, an awkward twist that ends with a soft grunt because shoulders aren’t supposed to twit that way. David’s fingers find the boxy of Turkish delight eventually, and it is several different miracles that it doesn’t spill onto the floor, but the floor is also suddenly covered by a broken glass ornament and—

Mary Margaret starts to laugh.

It’s a little shaky at first, probably because of the tears and perfect imperfection of the whole thing, but the ornament also didn’t land on anyone, so. Points. Of the Christmas variety.

“Yeah,” she says.

David’s eyes bug. “What?” “Yes. I—well, that’s the goal here, right?” “I didn’t even ask yet!” “We’re under attack by the ornaments, though.”

Ruby growls. “This is festive!” “Oh my God,” David grouses, and Mary Margaret looks a bit like the sun. Emma sniffles again.

Killian is going to set a record for kisses pressed to her hair.

“Ask, then,” Mary Margaret says, fingers fluttering at her side with an undeniable sort of energy. “I, uh—” “Will you marry me?” David cuts in.

“Yes.” He doesn’t jump, but he might teleport into her space, fervent kisses and roaming hands and the Turkish delight joins the ornament on the floor.

“Good thing we bought extra, huh?” Killian calls, David making a gesture behind Mary Margaret’s head. They don’t stop kissing.

And he does get the ring on her finger eventually, glass and whatever gelatin substance makes up Turkish delight in the garbage, champagne flowing and glasses toasted and there are pictures and smiles and then more champagne because that’s just how they operate and—

Emma stumbles through their door hours later, fingers still clinging to Killian with a slightly more tired smile. “God, that was fun,” she breathes, and he does not know what to do with every emotion he’s ever felt and currently feels for her.

It’s too much.

And not enough.

“You’ve got that face on,” Emma accuses, another finger tap to his cheek. He nips at her finger, getting the yelp he fully expected and he refuses to do anything else before he kisses her.

He’s got priorities.

She doesn’t quite melt, but she might sag against him, wholly romantic—like she’s certain he’ll hold on and the thought only spurs him on, his tongue brushing her lips and his fingers inching up her side, tracing over skin and tugging her closer.

Emma sighs into his mouth, nose scrunched against his and it’s not particularly graceful, but she’s also only managed to get one of her boots off and eventually Killian will blame that for whatever happens next.

Because whatever happens next is not part of any plan he ever came up with.

He hopes the Uber driver isn’t disappointed in him.

“Marry me,” he mumbles.

“What did you say?” Ice water. In his veins. Metaphorically dumped over his head. It’s presumably worse than getting hit with an ornament.

And Killian doesn’t know what to do, mouth opening and closing quick enough that he’s sure there’s a Nutcracker joke to be made.

Emma doesn’t blink.

She doesn’t look away.

Her fingers had been actively trying to unbutton his pants.

Less romantic than he intended. “Say it again,” she whispers, and Killian doesn’t think he mistakes the greedy edge to her voice. He swallows, leaning back and pulling the box out of his jacket and Emma doesn’t gasp.

She beams.

Like the top of a Christmas tree.

And the sun. And the moon and a few stars thrown in for good measure, a rather jarring return to romance because— “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks,” Killian says softly. “Trying to think of the perfect moment and how it would be good and great and every other adjective something like this is supposed to be. And I came up with the party.” “This party? The one we just went to?” “One and the same. All our friends, presumably a lot of champagne. I wasn’t expecting the ornaments, but—” “—Ruby really thought it was festive.” “Yeah, well—then David showed up here today with his own plan and he was freaking out and we had to get Turkish delight and figure out the history of poinsettias. And he kind of uh...well, he got to the proposing first.” “The stuff about poinsettias is really very common knowledge.” Killian shakes his head, nosing at Emma’s cheek and mouthing at the side of her neck and she shivers. He grins. “No, it’s not, love. But you knew and I—I think you might know everything.” “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she laughs. Giggles, a little. He’s going to overstretch the muscles in his face. “I love you a ridiculous amount,” Emma adds. “And I—you were really going to do that tonight?” “I think I’m still doing it tonight, technically.” “God.” “The banter is part of our appeal, Swan.” She huffs, no frustration in the sound, a slightly different shade of green in her gaze and dots of pink on her cheeks when she looks up. “I love you. Again, just to really hammer the point home and I—shit, it’s so nice that you did that. For David and M’s and ah, God, I just said shit during your proposal, didn’t I?” “You did. I love you a ridiculous amount too.”

“I’d imagine that’s helpful for everything else.” “Everything else?” Emma nods, a sharp inhale and quicker exhale, fingers in Killian’s hair and her mouth just on the edge of his lips. “Say it one more time.” He’s not nervous anymore.

“Will you marry me? I just—I want to marry you so much.” “I’m going to be honest the last part really sold it for me.” “Emma.” “Serious voice.” “Swan.”

She kisses him that time, a little greedy again and neither one of them really keep their footing when they trip towards the couch, but they don’t break apart either and that’s probably some deeper meaning that bodes well for the future and collective pronouns and rings on very specific fingers.

“I need an answer here, love,” Killian says, kissing towards her collarbone. He cannot remember how Emma got onto her back.

“Yes.”

“You want to go make out in bed?” “Do you get follow-up questions in a proposal?” “This one, apparently,” Killian laughs. Emma takes his hand as soon as he offers it, another nod and more stolen kisses, the pair of them leaving a trail of clothes behind him and eventually he has to go back to the living room to get the ring.

He doesn’t bother putting his pants back on.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #festive prompt a thon #we should all eat more turkish delight really #that's the moral of the story

59 notes · View notes

krizaland · 5 years

Text

Defying Gravity Chapter 6

First Chapter Previous

Thank you all so much for waiting! I hope you’re all ready for the return of a very familiar face!

Here’s the song I used btw

Meanwhile Zim, Dib, GIR, and Minimoose had been beamed aboard the Resisty’s ship.

“Oh my glob! Oh my glob! Is that Zim?! Is it really Zim?! Please respond!” Shloonktapooxis squealed as he eagerly circled around Lard Nar’s chair.

“Calm down! You’ll have to excuse him, as you can see he’s very excitable.” Lard Nar sighed as he regained his composure.

“Well of course he’s excited! He has the honor of meeting the great and powerful Zim!” Zim chuckled as he put a hand on his chest.

“Is it true that you assassinated two tallests?!” Shloonktapooxis squealed.

“And that you weakened The Massive so we could steal their snacks that one time?!” Cheered another alien.

“Or that you caused a four year long power outage on Devestius?!” Spleenk chirped.

“Of course it’s true! All of it is true! I, Zim, am the greatest rebel in the galaxy!” Zim boasted as he stuck a finger into the air.

Soon, Zim was bombarded with questions and excited squeals. Lard Nar tried to control his team but to no avail.

“Ugh! Why won’t anybody listen to me?!” Lard Nar whimpered as he buried his face in his hands.

“Tell me about it.” Dib agreed as he folded his arms.

“Zim?! Is that really you?!”

A familiar voice broke through the madness as it caught Zim’s attention.

Zim whipped around to find Skoodge excitedly skipping over to him.

“Skoodge? What are you doing here?” Zim asked as he raised an antenna.

“Oh, yeah. I got really mad when I found out the Tallest gave all the credit for conquering Blorch to some other guy. So I decided to rebel against the Empire! The Resisty were really nice and decided to take me in!” Skoodge explained cheerfully.

“Eh? Well I’m not surprised.” Zim muttered.

“I am so excited you’re joining the Resisty, Zim! Wait, you are joining us right?” Skoodge asked.

“Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease PLEAAAAAAASEEE!!” Shloonktapooxis whined.

“Come on say yes! Say yes!” Spleenk urged as his eyes lit up.

“Oh, ok. Since you all insist.” Zim grinned.

And with that, all of the aliens erupted into thunderous cheers.

“Please enough!” Zim chirped as he held up a hand to silence the madness.

“Thank you. Alright I just have one last question for you, Zim.” Lard Nar sighed as he clasped his hands together.

“Sure what is it?”

Lard Nar took in a deep breath.

“Why are you choosing to rebel against the Irken Empire?”

“Oh that’s easy! Those monsters left me to rot on some nowhere planet! Then they took what rightfully belonged to ME! Now they will all feel my vengeful wrath! They’ll all rue the day they messed with ZIM!” Zim cackled as he threw his arms in the air.

“Yeah! They’ll rue the day they messed with all of us!” Skoodge added as he threw his fist in the air.

And with that, Zim dragged a nearby table to the center of the ship and climbed on top of it.

“We’re not gonna be just a part of their game! We’re not gonna be just the victims! They’re taking our dreams and they tear them apart! Till everyone’s the same!” Zim sang.

The rest of the Resisty crowded around him and begun to cheer him on.

“I’ve got no place to go! I’ve got nowhere to run! They love to watch me fall! They think they know it all!” Zim sang as his mind was plagued with all of the terrible memories of how he was mistreated.

“I’m a nightmare! A disaster! That’s what they always said! I’m a lost cause! Not a hero! But I’ll make it on my own! I’ve gotta prove them wrong! It’s me against the world!” Zim sang as his mind entered a fantasy.

He saw you tied up and chained to the wall. Your muffled cries for help cut into his soul as he ran towards you.

POW!

CLANG!

It didn’t take long for him to set you free from you chains.

“We won’t let them change the way we feel in our souls! We’re not gonna let them control us!” Zim sang as he took your hands in his.

Zim dried your tears with his thumb as the song continued.

“We won’t let them shove all their thoughts in our heads! And we’ll never be like them!”

Zim leaned in to kiss you only for you to vanish like dust in the wind as his mind returned to reality.

“I’ve got no place to go! I’ve got nowhere to run! They love to watch me fall! They think they know it all!” Zim sang as he dried his own tears.

“IRKEN INVADER ZIM FOR SINGLE-HANDEDLY RUINING OPERATION: IMPENDING DOOM. YOU WILL BE REENCODED!” The Control brain bellowed as it jammed its mechanical tentacles into Zim’s PAK.

Zim let out a yelp as he felt the shocks of electricity jolt through his PAK.

“NO LONGER AN INVADER YOU WILL FOREVER BE BANISHED TO THE IRKEN SNACKING PLANET OF FOODCOURTIA!”

Zim let out a blood curdling scream as he found himself drowning in memories of all of the torment he went through on Foodcourtia.

He then remembered himself crashing The Great Assigning and the cruel words of Purple echoed in his mind.

“No Invader has been so..Small…You’re very small, Zim. You’re a tiny thing..”

He then remembered Red and Purple snickering as GIR was tossed at his feet.

The final flashback was Red and Purple’s smug grins as they took you away from him.

Zim let out another screech as his mind entered another fantasy.

He imagined himself hooked up to The Control Brains once more as he stared right into both Red and Purple’s eyes.

“Now I’m sick of this waiting so come on and take your shot!” Zim spat as his ruby eyes narrowed

“Ugh. Why is that Defective still talking” Red snarled.

“Yeah! Why’s the shorty still making noise huh?” Purple added.

“You can spit all your insults but nothing you say will ever change me!” Zim roared as je wriggled about.

Both Tallest rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

“You can sit there and judge me! Say what you want to! I’ll never let you win!”

And with that, Zim pulled as hard as he could and The Control Brains came crashing down as he awoke from his fantasy.

The whole ship came alive with cheers and dancing as the song continued.

“I’m a nightmare! A disaster! That’s what they always said! I’m a lost cause! Not a hero! But I’ll make it on my own! I’ve gotta prove them wrong! They’ll never bring us down! We’ll never fall in line! I’ll make it on my own! It’s me against the world!” Zim sang as he dramatically pumped his fist into the air.

#Invader Zim #Invader Zim x reader #Invader zim tallest #invader zim red #invader zim purple #Defying gravity invader zim #invader zim skoodge

38 notes · View notes

heartofsurgingflame · 5 years

Note

hey hi so basically would you please do us all the honor of maybe saying your opinions on all the characters of tcomc? I know you love V4, just curious about your opinions on everyone else

*CRACKS KNUCKLES* ok so im gonna put this under a readmore because theres a good amount of these bitches. i’;ll look on wikipedias list of characters so i dont forget anyone

dantes/monte cristo: I LOVE HIM A LOT ACTUALLY, i know i dont talk about him as much as i talk about veeyfour partly because everyone likes him so everyone talks about him but theyre tied for my favorite character .... i relate to him a lot and i want him to be happy :(

abbe faria: i dont tend to like static characters often but the concept of an old guy you meet in prison who knows everything and adopts you, and also hes a priest, is so fucking funny so i have to like him. rest in peace my old bro

bertuccio: he sucks because hes mean to v4- just kidding i enjoy him. he’s a good guy i think, definitely a better person than v4, only thing i can really complain about is his whole “oo benedetto is a nasty little man because i didnt hit him” for personal reasons i strongly dislike that but hey it was the 1800s

luigi vampa: ok so hes one of those people who you can only refer to them by their full name. i think hes good as well. wise bandit leader. monty how do you even meet these people

peppino: oh god i dont even remember this one that well sorry

ali: don’t like that he exists..... slavery’s bad

baptistin: dont remember forming an opinion on this guy either

jacopo: he’s cool i guess. i like how they changed him in 2002. absolute bro

haydee: THAT GIRL IS DAUGHTER TO ME i used to be ehhh on her but then i realized i just don’t like that she and monty get married. she’s fucking good

mercedes: *WAILING* definitely one of my favorites i get so emo over her i really wish she had a more fulfilling ending. i would like to have seen more of what she was like pre-dantes getting sent to prison too, she was really fun at the beginning of the book like she would Not take fernand’s shit

fernand: awful awful man and i think he should’ve suffered more but as a character i like him he’s just... kind of a moron but also evil and half of everything he says ever is a lie

albert: who could forget dear albert he’s fucking crazy in a good way like it makes sense because mercedes was very like... set in her decisions and kind of drastic with what she says in the beginning of the book. and fernand is fernand. like you know his parents are crazy so he’s crazy. he’s a good kid though despite being a rich brat

franz: god bless him he’s the only one who realizes monte cristo is kinda suspicious. unless you count countess g---- but she just thought he was a vampire. but it’s good to have franz itd be a bit boring if monty was like loved by everybody instantly

danglars: YES i like him a lot he’s just evil and does not feel remorse he’s really fucking funny too because he’s a cuckold but he owns it. you know

hermine: well she was fuckin . that’s her prerogative i guess. has good taste in men except for her husband. i think she can do whatever she wants

eugenie: *SHOOTS LASERS FROM MY EYES* I LOVE HERRR i take back saying her mom should be able to do whatever she wants eugenie is the one who should be able to do whatever she wants forever. like she was not in the wrong at all unlike some people in this book

villefort: ok i know you know bhow i feel about this man but i just want to say he’s like... i think i don’t have a single issue with him the way he’s written is just so good and i wouldn’t change anything which is insane. yes im serious i wouldnt even make him actually gay because, thatd be weird, he is evil. also i relate to him too not as much as i relate to monty usually but

renee: what did she do even i guess i dont have much of an opinion on her. i like her dog in that one fuckign i watched like 2 episodes of the british miniseries the one in black and white. she has a little fluffy dog in it

the saint-merans: i guess theyre pretty funny because theyre rich people and have to put up with the way that villefort is. i love how all of villefort’s extended family just destroys each other

valentine: not a huge fan of the subplot with her and max, like i understand its narrative purpose and i wouldnt take it out by any means but i dont really care about those two together. i do like her quite a bit though. she managed to break the cycle of being a shitty person because of your family and im proud of her for that

noirtier: LEGEND he made a few points. like fuck napoleon but noirtier at least had a spine , perhaps a bit too much but you know how it is. he’s really funny because he does not respect his son in any way

heloise: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I REALLY LIKE HER nobody properly appreciates her like i’ve seen people view her as just a punishment for villefort like shes her own person. and though murder is bad shes kind of a victim of the way that society was. similar to villefort. the problem is capitalism am i right

edouard: WHAT son? i don’t have an opinion on him

benedetto: he’s the closest i can come to disliking a tcomc character. like i dont like that ali exists but that’s dumas’s fault. benedetto is uh. horrible. he’s a bit funny though (sorry i keep saying characters are funny) is it hypocritical of me to be like i dont like benedetto because he’s evil but like danglars because he’s evil? maybe

morrel: dantes’s dad #3. he’s a good guy i appreciate that he was fully ready to shoot himself to save his family

maximilian: i like him, not as much as i like valentine but he’s cool

julie and her husband: no opinion really. glad things worked out for them

caderousse: a merderer............ ok i actually like him i’m sorry i don’t pay as much attention to him as i do to v4 fernand and danglars i should. probably change that. i think its funny that wikipedia basically describes him as a tailor who turns to a life of crime

whatever the hell cad’s wife’s nickname was: ok so the chapter where she dies can be interpreted in a number of ways right like i know one is that caderousse was nervous because he had decided to kill her but i like the idea that she had the idea to kill the jeweler first and caderousse was like do i have to and she was like ya. and then he just decided to get her too in the spur of the moment. would have liked to know more about her

dantes’s dad: :( he was nice.... we get like one nice dad and he dies. ok morrel is there too but...

lucien: DANGLARS POLYCULE he’s REALLY funny i like him quite a bit. he’s like. snarky

ok theres like at least 7 other characters but theyre minor and i odnt have much in the way of opinions on them. that’s all

#Anonymous

10 notes · View notes

mrs-mystica · 5 years

Text

Fight For Me [Prinxiety]

Pairing : Roman and Virgil (Romantic)

Author’s note : This was a challenge for me. I had a hard time to write this, but I really wanted to write this story. Hope you’ll enjoy it!

Masterlink

Human/Medieval AU(?)

Third Person POV

In a kingdom, far, far away, there was a king and a queen, who ruled over their land with a lot of care. They wanted nothing but the best for their people, and they always stood by their principles. This also applied to both their sons, Roman and Remus. There was a tradition that was passed from generation to generation in the royal family. To be sure to have the best of the best on the throne, princes and princesses were trained from their young age to the art of the sword and self-defense. All potential heirs had to go through this training, no matter their position . And their other half also had to be worthy. But how to be sure that a strong individual would be sitting on the throne next to the royal heir? To win the hand of the princes, a duel against them must be won.

Contenders would be coming from all across the land, even from distant lands, just to test their luck to win a place on the throne. Men, women or non-binary people, it didn't matter. Anyone could challenge one of the princes. The crown was open for every challenger. But the princes wouldn't let the place next to them to anyone. They trained, and trained, to make sure that they could repel any contenders that they didn't like or find worthy of their love.

The two princes had different views toward this tradition. Remus hated it. People would continually come at the castle door to challenge him. He knew they weren't there because they thought he was particularly good-looking. He knew that he didn't care enough of his appearence, his hair being always messy and his clothes usually being ripped or stained. Thus, he knew his challengers were lying when they told him they were blinded by his beauty, that they wanted to fight for his love. He hated those hypocritical good for nothing, and for a long time he took an immense joy to make them bite the dust. But it became boring after a while. So he had an idea. He declared that he would fight to death anyone who would challenge him for his hand. You either win his hand, or you die. Needless to say that it worked pretty efficiently.

On the other hand, Roman thought this tradition had its charm. He found the idea oddly romantic and he was determined to find his soul mate. Normally, princes and princesses would only accept one challenge a day, but Prince Roman thought that the more he fought, the more he had the probability to find the one who would win his heart. He would fight anyone who would show off the slightest interest in him. He fought so many people that he ran out of pretenders. Annoyed and bored, he would wander in the little town near the castle, his sword sitting in his scabbard, searching for someone to challenge. It was pretty uncommon for a member of the royal family to wander near the villagers, and it was even less common for a prince to challenge people for his own hand. Prince Roman surely was one of a kind.

On one of these days, he would witness scenes of the everyday lives of his subjects. An old woman selling fruits, children playing tag together, a man kissing a woman on the cheek, a cat sitting on a roof and watching the humans from above... Prince Roman likes to watch the town moving around him. It helped him fight the boredom from not fighting. It was all he would do in his free time. Either training, fighting or trying to find someone to fight him. Maybe he was a little obsessed, he thought.

A sound caught his attention. Someone was begging someone else to stop with a broken voice. The prince was alerted by the voice and he followed it. In a dark alley, between two stores, he saw one man holding another one, while a third one would kick their victim in the stomach. Two of those men were laughing and the broken voice belonged to the other one. He looked hurt, but there were no tears in his eyes. He was looking at his aggressor with a stare filled with hatred. Roman could feel a shiver going through his spine, although he didn't truly understand why. He didn't know the man in front of him, but as a prince, it was his duty to intervene and to protect his subjects.

- HEY!

He called out the men. The two attackers jumped and froze when their eyes saw the prince. Roman had already unsheathed his sword and he pointed it at the men.

- This is a royal order. Release him. Or else...

Filled with fear, the two men dropped their victims and flee the scene as fast as they could. The poor man fell on the ground, cursing as he touched to cold hard ground under him. He rubbed his stomach, trying to make the pain go away. The prince put back his sword in its scabbard and approached the man.

- Are you alright, my dear citizen?

He put his hand in front of the man, palm facing the sky, inviting him to take it to help him get up. The man looked at the prince, and it was at this moment that he truly saw him. He had thick black hair who partially fell onto his face. He had deep black eyes, beautiful eyes that he couldn't help but to stare at. And those lips. A thought came through his head, noting that he sure had pulpy lips for a tough looking guy like him.

Both men stared at each other for a moment, until the dark man finally took the hand and got up. The prince was hypnotized by the man in front of him. He only managed to say two words.

- Fight me.

He didn't realize how weird it would sound out loud. The thankful look on the man's face was quickly replaced by fear. Roman cough, trying to break the awkward vibes that were now suffocating both of them.

- What I mean... is... erm... You know who I am, right?

The scared man carefully nodded, afraid that saying the wrong thing would make him ending up between the guard and the tip of the sword. Roman sighed. He definitely didn't mean to scare the man like that.

He couldn't place another word that he was interrupted by two newcomers. Two other men appeared in the alley, both wearing glasses. One of them was wearing a tie and the other one had a cardigan attached around his shoulder. They both were wearing blue clothes, one baby blue and the other navy.

- Virgil! Oh Virgil! There you are!

One of the two men covered the distance that was separating him from them and he hugged the dark man. He looked relieved.

- I'm so happy to see that you're okay!!! We were so scared! You didn't come home at your usual time and we were afraid that something had happened to you!

It was only when the third man, the one wearing a tie, put a hand on his shoulder that the newcomer realized there was someone else in the alley. He broke his embrace and gasped as he recognized the prince.

- Oh my lord! Prince Roman!! What gives us the honor to be blessed by your presence?

The man laughed nervously, clearly uncomfortable by the royal presence. He wondered what he was doing with his precious son Virgil. Did something happen? He sure was worried.

The prince took a dramatic pose, his hand in the air, trying to look awesome and at his best. He smiled, showing his perfect teeth.

- I, the wonderful and brave Roman, am here to challenge this man in a duel for a place by my side on the throne.

The two newcomers looked at him like he was hit on the head or something. Now Patton was sure that something had happened. But the prince, really uncomfortable, didn't let him the time to speak that he spoke again.

- Tomorrow, when the sun rises, you will come to the arena next to the castle, and you will duel me in a sword fight. I look forward into fighting you, Virgil.

He gave the dark man his sweetest smile before leaving the scene. Virgil. It was a name he was not ready to forget.

***

The three men were now back in their home, all sat at their table. What was once confusion had turned into fear. Virgil was panicking.

- What the HELL am I suppose to do?!

- It's okay, it's not a big de--

His second dad, Logan, tried to reassure him, but Virgil was too far gone. All the emotions he was feeling, it was too much for him. The prince was awesomely good looking, he felt helpless when their eyes met, he was speechless and unable to say anything, blinded by his beauty. And since their encounter, he couldn't stop thinking about him, even thought it was only an hour ago. And it seemed he made a great first impression to the prince because he now had a chance to challenge him for his hand. But what if he threw it? What if he messed up? Prince Roman was the best sword wielder of the entire kingdom. Did he even stand a chance?

- The ONLY thing I can wield is a knife! Tomorrow will be a DISASTER!

Patton wanted to reassure his son so bad, but he didn't know what to say.

- I will never be happy. This is a chance of a lifetime, and I'll blow it...

Logan hated to see his child like this. Suddenly, he got up, went out of the room and came back with two swords.

- I will train you.

The two men looked at him with a confused look. Logan sighed, but kept his determined look in his eyes.

- Ok, I've never actually wield one of these, but I've read plenty of books about the art of the sword. With some training and experimentations, I'm sure we can transform theory into practice.

With tears still in his eyes, Virgil looked at his father, unsure. Logan gave him a reassuring smile.

- We will get through this, together. And if you lose, you will at least have given your best. What do you think?

It took Virgil some time to take a decision, but he looked at his brother, a determined look now in his puffy eyes.

- Alright. Let's do this.

***

When it was finally time for the duel, Virgil hadn't slept at all. He and Logan had trained all night, trying their best to execute what was in Logan's books. He wished he had more time to prepare, but he had no choice. Adrenaline was already going through his veins when he arrived in the arena. A wave of anxiety hit him when he stepped into it. Virgil thought he looked ridiculous. Since he didn't have an armour of his own, he had to borrow someone else's and it definitely was too big for him. He was floating in it. It sure wasn't ideal, but what other choice did he have?

The seats were all taken, a lot of people had gathered to watch the daily dual of Prince Roman. They were loud, really loud. They didn't seem to notice him at first, they all seemed busy talking at each other, waiting for the show to start. The dark man looked through the crowd until he finally saw his family. Logan and Patton were waving at him, giving him thumbs up to tell him that everything was going to be alright. At their sight, Virgil relaxed a little and the tension that was building up through his body decreased in intensity. Virgil continued to examine his surroundings. He then saw the royal family, sitting above all the other. Virgil noticed that they all looked bored, especially Prince Remus. They didn't seem to have noticed him yet, so Virgil assumed it was probably because Roman was having these challenges daily and it must become boring after a while.

Trumpets started to play, announcing the beginning of the show. The whole crowd went silent, their attention was now entirely focussed in front of them. A well-dressed man stepped into the arena and went in the middle of it. Virgil then noticed the big circle on the ground. He wondered what it was for. The man looked at the piece of paper in his hands. He started talking loudly, trying to be heard by the whole arena.

- Ladies, gentlemen and other precious citizens of our great kingdom, I welcome you all today for this ceremony wher--

- Cut the formalities and hurry up, ringmaster.

The king's voice was firm and loud. Virgil was surprised that he could hear him so clearly, even though he was really far away from him. The poor man in front of him was shaking in fear, not expecting to be cut by the king himself like this. He continued with a shaky voice.

- Yes my King. Everyone, please welcome today's challenger, Virgil Sanders.

The man invited Virgil to approach. The crowd was clapping and screaming, loudly. Carefully, he approached the man and stood next to him, waiting for the next instructions.

- And now, please welcome warmly our ''Really Obviously Muscular And Nice'' Prince Roman into the arena.

The cheers coming from the crowd were even louder. He looked at his right and saw Roman entering the arena. The man didn't think it was possible, but the prince looked even better than when he met him in the alley. He was wearing a big armour that was entirely painted white, with little golden ornaments along the line. He had the red logo of the kingdom painted on his chest and back. As the prince approached him in the middle of the circle, he could only think of how the armour was highlighting his attributes, especially his face. When Roman was finally next to him, they stared at each other, and the prince gave Virgil a tender smile. He was really happy that the mysterious man hadn't back down his challenge and that he was willing to give it a shot. It was worth a lot of points in Roman's book. Maybe he finally found the one he was looking for after all? He wanted him to be, but he refused to give up his hand easily. He had to fight him, like all the others before him.

- The rules of the challenge are simple. The two challengers must duel with their swords until one of them exit the circle traced on the ground. The last standing person in the circle is declared the winner. Do you, gentlemen, accepts the terms of this duel?

Both of them nodded, without looking away from each other. Virgil smirked, which destabilized the prince. He quickly regained his confident look and winked at Virgil. The arbitrator asked them to take a few steps back and to unsheathe their weapons, which they did. The arbitrator was ready to start the duel.

- En garde. Prêt? Allez.

And the duel started. Both men looked at each other, their knees bent a little so they were ready to jump at any moment. They were moving to their right, not stopping to look at the other, trying to evaluate their opponent. They were both on the defensive, waiting for the other to strike first, ready to strike back. Virgil's anxiety was at his highest, but he was not paralyzed by his own fears. It seemed that, for once, his anxiety decided to be on his side. His fight or flee instincts were kicking in, and he had no intentions of fleeing. His heart was beating like madness in his chest. It was like he could see everything, every little detail, every sound, he could sense it all.

They continued to walk in circles for some time. Roman was the first to move. He took a step forward, in Virgil's direction, and he executed a lunge, trying to hit his opponent's right. Virgil was quick to parry with the guard of his sword. Their faces were close for a second, which destabilized Virgil a little. He quickly made a leap backward when he noticed that Roman was trying to press his sword against his in an attempt to touch his chest with the tip of his sword. Virgil was careful, he was getting closer to the line on the ground. Roman charged again and their blades crossed a few times, emitting sharp sounds each time. It was pretty clear that Virgil was lacking experience with the sword. His movements were clumsy at times and his defense had serious weaknesses. If it was a duel to death, he would've had a lot of opportunities to pierce through his heart. Knowing his opponent was inferior to him in the art of the sword, Roman got cocky. He thought he could end this duel anytime he wanted, but first he wanted to play a little bit with his prey. Roman leap back and opened his arms, taunting Virgil to come get him. The dark man didn't fall for the trap and instead taunted back the prince. It made Roman giggles.

He quickly covered the distance between them and assaulted his opponent with a series of quick hit. It was too fast for Virgil and he couldn't parry them all. His plate chest was assaulted and he had to take steps back at each hit. Virgil knew he was getting dangerously close to the line. Roman knew his strategy was working. When he got Virgil close enough to the line, he took a step back and prepared his next move. The crowd was cheering and screaming his name repeatedly, it boosted Roman's confidence. He wanted to finish in beauty with a Fleche. It was a hit or miss situation. Roman gained momentum and rushed in Virgil's direction. But Virgil had noticed that the prince was preparing something. And when Roman struck, Virgil was ready and he immediately moved to his left. Roman had already crossed his legs and it was too late to go back. He tried his best to regain his stance, but Virgil pushed him forward with his hand, dooming Roman to fall forward.

- Halte!

The duel had ended, Roman had crossed the line. The crowd had become silent, and for a moment, Virgil was afraid he had done something wrong, but then the crowd screamed and cheered, louder than they ever cheered before in the duel. They were screaming his name, ecstatic to have a new prince. Virgil felt so proud, a big smile had appeared on his face. He went next to Roman and offered him a hand, to help him get up. The prince giggled and took the offer, getting up, hands in hands with the man who had just won his heart. They gazed at each other and, for once in his life, Roman wasn't angry to have lost.

- Well done, my dark prince.

They were staring at each other, smiling like idiots. The prince put one of his hands on Virgil's cheek and whispered to him as he got his face closer to his.

- I'm happy it is you.

And they kissed, sealing their fate together as lovers and future husbands.

3267 words

A.N. : I have an idea for a bonus scene staring Deceit and Remus in this universe. If this is something that would interest you, please tell me !

#sanders sides #fanfiction #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #romantic

37 notes · View notes