Tumgik
#leaving interpretations behind. please tell me im not the only one that feels this air of sensuality over the songs
fettery-fetterie · 11 months
Text
Trying so hard to not go overly insane over bottle edition's ost but holy shit. Hooooly fuck hoOOOOOOly shit HooooooOOOOly hell
1 note · View note
housamo-side-blog-2 · 3 years
Text
Red Eyes
A celebrity is someone famous, not only for their blessings of beauty and knowledge, but for the hard path they have chosen to waik upon, However it can also be a double edged sword,for as one mishap of a wrong doing can end up being attacked by their followers, 
Thus the role of being a celebrity is somewhat both an incredible achievement and a poise you have to maintained.Thus you have to bottle your emotions,for as you have the role of being a major role model for everyone. Anger, Sadness, Jelousy, and even kindness, people will always interpret it,,,, as another..
.
.
 .     
{Shinjuku Academy}   
It is nightime Shinjuku, Thus, every student is safely inside their assigned dorm rooms, patroling the area out incase someone violates curfew, two teachers are assigned to patrol around the school, 
However two unsuspecting figures managed to escape their rooms and quietly make their way towards Shinjuku  Academy, What could they be doing at night that will cause them punishment?, And why at night specificly? 
.
Student 1: Did you bring it? 
A tall figure in a black jacket and pants quietly asked their accomplice, as they brought out a can of spray paint. 
Student 2:Yeah,here. 
Student 1: Awesome!, now then,,,Take this Harumo! 
Student 2: Hahaha! 
Furiosly spraying the wall,as if it was a canvas, the duo sprayed all around the wall as they write down letters that will cause a certain someone trouble 
As they humbly sleep peacefully in their dorm room, dreaming peacefully and softly smiling as if they are having a wonderful time in their mind space. 
Student 2: Dude,We better hurry before the teachers hear us! 
Student 1: Hold on, I have to put that bastard’s name on it! 
The second figure peaks to the side to check if they are nearby,
Student 1: Alright done!, Lets go!,...
Student 2: I can’t wait to see the look on that idiot’s dumb face when they get framed!
Student 1: Haha!, Yeah! 
.
{Narrator}:What awaits your tomorrow Dear Harumo? 
.
.
{Next Day}
{Shinjuku Academy} 
You and your guildmates have just passed the entrance of the school, When Shiro noticed something strange.
Shiro: I wonder whats going on over there? 
Looking upon the crowd of shocked students as they look upon wall, as the teachers are trying to get things around. 
Kengo: Hey!, what the heck is going on here!?
Kengo asked a neaby student and said: Harumo spray painted the wall.
Shiro and Kengo: WHAT! 
Harumo: Me!?,,
Ryota: Guys!, hah...hah...someone spray painted the wall, and...Harumo’s name is on it! 
Harumo: What!, but i ! 
Kengo: What the hell are they taiking about! 
Shiro: Its ludicrious for them think that! 
Ryota: I don’t believe its Harumo either,but they are making sound as if you did it! 
Harumo: Who?
Student 1: Hey look guys its the culprit who spraypainted on it! 
Student 2: Why did you vandalised our school like that!? 
All turn to gase you as they await your explanation. 
Harumo: It wasn’t me! 
Student 1: Yeah, tell that when your name is on it! 
Kengo: Time to beat the shit outta him!   
Shiro: Kengo stop, you’ll only make it worse! 
Kengo: This assholes need a beating if they whats coming for them! 
Harumo: For the last time!, I DID NOT DO IT! 
Student 1: Yeah,yeah, criminals always lie whenever they did something wrong! 
Student 2: Criminal! .Criminal!.
Ryota: Hey! Stop calling Harumo a criminal!, They will never do something like that! 
Student 1: Then explain the grafiti then! 
Ryota: Grrr..
Student 1: Yeah just like i thought!, Nothing!,Hey criminal! hu...
.
.
.
Harumo: FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!
Like a thunderbolt you violently rushed towards the cocky bastard pushing them against the grafitied wall and gripped they’re neck tightly  as you look at them furiosly in the eye,staring as if you’re gase is like someone had been bottling up they’re pent up aggresion, and only now you are able to release it like nuclear bomb. as the color of eyes changed into a crimson,glare, almost as if a predator is about to bare his fangs on their prey. As you growled, fist clenched and hand on them tight as a rope, 
Student 2: Hey! what the heck let him go...!
Harumo: GRAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!
Student 2: Graagghh,,Le...meee....gooo!
Harumo: GRAAAAAGGHHHHH!!!!!,, 
Ryota: Harumo, stop! 
Kengo: Partner!, you’re gonna kill them! 
Shiro: Kengo! help me, loosen his grip! 
Ryota embraced you from behind as the two try to loosen your grip on them, slowly the two about to drown students are about to run of oxygen,as you blocked they’re airways with your tight grip. 
Ryota: Harumo...Please stop!...Please...
Kengo: Harumo...thats enough or you’ll end up killin them! 
Toji: Forgive me later Harumo...
Ryota: Toji?
{Toji knocked the anger filled student cold} 
Toji: Get Harumo to the clinic, I’ll deal with this two..
Kengo: Shiro,Ryota, take care of Harumo for now,{ Clicks his neck} 
Toji: Takabushi, I trust you’ll only knock them out..
Shiro: Kengo, don’t be an idiot!, you’ll only get in trouble, worse you might even get expelled! 
Kengo: I couldn’t care less!, IM MAD! 
Shiro: Kengo think about this! if you do this, you’ll never see Harumo again! 
Eyes widening in realisation, as his gritted expression turn to an expression as if he’s gotta comeback to finish you two off. 
Kengo: Dammit...Fine..Toji im leaving them to you! 
Toji: All of you get out now!, Now. i have some questions needed to be filled! 
.
Kengo: I gotcha Harumo..
Ryota: ....Harumo.....
.
.
.
{Shennong’s Clinic} 
Cold air from the ac,fills the room,you’re cooped up in, as you make out what appears to be clinic, 
Harumo: What ...happened?
You rub your head as you feel your head spinning almost as the blood on your head going everywhere, 
Harumo: Wait.....
{Remembers the incident} 
Harumo: I...i almost...
Hands shaking from fear, you took a moment to get your bearings in order.        
{Door opens} 
Shennong: You’re awake..
Harumo: Shennong what happened? 
Shennong: You passed out, probably from the stress, your friends brought you here, Fortunately, the students you strangled are fine.   
Harumo: I...almost killed them......
Shennong: .....
.
.
Mr Mononobe: Harumo..Thank goodness you’re awake..
Harumo: {Hugs Mr Mononobe} 
The moment you come into contact, you let it all out..as tears flow and drip on Mr Mononobe’s polo. buried in his abs, as you can feel the rockyness of it as you hurt yourself a little from the impact.. 
Mr Mononobe: There..there..Harumo..
Shennong:I’ll let the other teachers know.. 
Mr Mononobe: Thank you Mr Shennong keep up the good work!
.
{Hallway}
Mr Mononobe: Shhhh...Don’t taik now..I’ll take you to your room,
Harumo: But i..
Mr Mononobe: The other students have already spread rumors about your recent outburst lately, and...it could affect you..
Harumo: Oh..okay...Thank you Mr Mononobe.
Mr Mononobe: Its only natural i care for my students.
.Harumo: Im sure everyone thinks im a monster now..
Mr Mononobe:...I don’t think you are..
Harumo: I nearly killed them!,
Mr Mononobe: But you didn’t.. 
Harumo: Thats because i blacked out! .
Mr Mononobe: And? 
Harumo: And??..
Mr Mononobe: If you truly call yourself a monster,then those wouldn’t be in the office right now.
Mr Mononobe: “A monster is being whom only exist to bring destruction”.
Harumo:....
Mr Mononobe: You need time to cool off and think rationally. I’ll inform Shiro that i brought you to your dorm. So don’t worry about them.. 
Harumo:..Okay...Thanks again Mr Mononobe,
Mr Mononobe: Just doing my job..
{Dorm room} 
Harumo:.....
“A monster is a being whom only exist to brin destruction”
Laying on your bed,facing the sceiling. while recalling your outburst on the two students.. the very thought of it,makes you jump out in shocked as you stare at both of your rugged hands,probably from the tightness you were gripping caused it. 
Harumo:.....
{Knock Knock} 
???: Harumo,are you there? can i come in? 
Harumo: That voice...
{Door opens} 
.
.
Ryota: Harumo!..You’re okay.. 
Harumo: Ryota, why are you here?
Ryota: Hehe. i sneaked out, preteding i was going to the bathroom, 
Harumo: Ryota{ Hugs Ryota} 
Ryota: sHHH..its  Okay..im here for you Harumo...
Harumo:*sobbing on Ryota’s shoulders* 
Ryota: Lets sit down Harumo..
.
.
Ryota: Are you feeling okay now? 
Harumo: A ...little...
Both of you sat to next to each other on the bed, as Ryota gave his bottle of juice to the crying young man.. 
Ryota: ...Good news!,Toji caught the culprits who tried to framed you, 
Harumo: Really?!, who was it? 
Ryota: It was those two.
Harumo: ..Okay..
.
Registering the goodnews. you can’t help but remember the way you strangle them without mercy as you are lost in your own train of thought, from it, Silence fills the room as you sip from the straw. Ryota breaks the silence.  
Ryota: I’ve never seen you act like that Harumo...
Harumo: .....Yeah....me too...
Ryota: Do you....want to taik about it? 
Harumo:......
Ryota: Harumo..you know im always here for you, so does Shiro, Kengo, Moritaka,and Toji, We’re all here for you..If you want to taik I’ll listen to every word.so please don’t ..hold it in .
.
.
.
Harumo: Am i a monster?..
Ryota: Off course not! why would you think of that!
Harumo:” A monster only exists to bring destruction” thats what Mr Mononobe said, But the more i think about it, the more its ...its actually true..
Ryota: You are not a monster Harumo.. You’ve never been one, ever since we’ve met on the park, 
Ryota: Do you remember,what i said about you could have saved yourself if you just abandoned me..
Harumo:....
Ryota: You didn’t abandoned me,and you saved me, even though we were strangers that time, if you really are a monster then i wouldn’t be here taiking to you, i would have been in Oni’s stomach by now..
Harumo: But i....
Ryota: You didn’t killed them,, and thats whats important right now... 
Harumo: {Stares at his shaking hands} 
Ryota: Harumo...
The orange chubby places a gentle hand, to ease your quivering palms, you can feel the warmness in them as you feel the soft touch of his skin coming into contact with your rugged hands. and places it on his cheek. 
Your quivering expression turns to shocked as you stare upon Ryota directly into his peach colored eyes. But you look as if you’re staring directly to his warm soul, that it almost made you tear up..And as you do, 
 Harumo: Ryota....!  
Ryota:......
You embraced the chubby cinnamon roll slightly tight, as you cry on his shoulders on the other one, While Ryota gently strokes your fluffy greyish hair, and closes his eyes as you let it all out, 
Embraced in a warming matter, the hallway echoes your emotions,for as the sun rays down on an warming atmosphere, making it much more ....peaceful... 
.
.
.         .     .  
12 notes · View notes
ukai-simp-services · 4 years
Text
hot cocoa
oikawa x reader domestic fluff
(could be interpreted as a female reader but its pretty gender neutral tbh)
warnings: slight cursing, suggestive content, french kissing, play fighting
a/n: this fic WILL be posted on my ao3, go give me some love ;) @ supernotcool
++ quick note beforehand that you don't have to read: ok so this whole fic was based off an actual day I had like, two days ago, but obviously I don't have a boyfriend or I probably wouldn't even write as much fic as I do. but I DID spend the day making a snow man with my dad and drinking hot cocoa by the fire so, all I really added was a pretty fluffy brown haired boy to make it cute and a little spicy. anyway. I just felt like telling y'all where I got my inspo from bc I personally LOVE when writers do that. anyway enjoy y'all, I hope there's not grammatical mistakes. im still new to writing fics on Tumblr so give me some feedback please!
Tumblr media
 Finally, a day off. How long has it been since your school shut down for a snow day? Had to be two years at the very least. You had been itching for a day off for so long now, especially with all the upcoming exams you had, life had become a lot of all work and no play. Same thing goes for your boyfriend of 2 years, Tooru Oikawa. Because of his strict volleyball schedule - and having university on top of that - your boyfriend had a packed schedule. Sure, you complained about work and school, but you always knew Tooru had a much heavier weight on his shoulders than you did. Still, he always managed to seem more upbeat than anyone else you knew, he always seemed to have time for you and gave you all his attention. Which is why it was no surprise that your loving boyfriend was more than excited about today’s day off and he intended to spend every second with you.
 As if you don’t already live together…
  You were seated at the kitchen table, mug of coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You mindlessly scrolled through instagram as you took periodic sips of your coffee, enjoying the peacefulness of your apartment. In the window next to you, a moving picture of a lovely snow storm was taking place, begging for your attention. You took your eyes off your screen for a moment to watch the storm unravel before you, it was calmer than it was last night, but the wind still certainly shook all the trees. A warm smile planted itself on your face, content with the abundance of snow you were receiving, considering its been a couple years since you last got to experience this. 
 Your blissful moment of silence was soon broken by the sound of your boyfriend, slamming the door to your bathroom open and revealing his robed body oh-so dramatically. 
 “Do you really have to make an entrance even when leaving the shower?” You asked half-bored and half-amused. 
 “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy every second of it.” Your boyfriend smugly replied, making his way over to the table with you. 
 You shook your head, biting back a grin, “You’re so humble, Tooru.”
 He giggled out an, “I know.” 
  You continued your scrolling on your phone, becoming a bit bored of it after awhile. Your boyfriend circled around the kitchen table and planted himself behind you in your chair. The familiar smell of an earthy-floral cologne mixed with fresh mint filled your nostrils as he wrapped his arms around your body lightly, letting his chin rest on your shoulder. You hummed lightly at his soft touch, becoming slightly engulfed in it.
 “You know what we’re doing today, right?” The fluffy-haired man questioned.
 “I don’t, what are we doing?” You wondered, curiously.
 “Playing in the snow obviously, duh.” Your boyfriend replied so matter-of-factly.
  You chuckled at his words, you knew he’d want to enjoy the snow today - as did you - but you weren’t expecting him to ask so early. 
 “Yes, we must, but can’t I shower and study a bit first?” 
 Your boyfriend stood up from his position abruptly, making you turn your head towards him. 
 “Y/n, under no circumstances am I letting you do school work today, it’s our one day off.” 
 “But-“ 
 “Nope, no buts.” He grabbed your arm and tugged you out of your chair, “Now come on, let’s bundle up.” 
 “Tooru-“ 
 After a solid 20 minutes of you complaining to Tooru that you still needed to shower and him assuring you that you’d much rather take a hot shower after being in the cold - he was right of course - you two managed to bundle yourselves up in a few layers of thick clothing, ready for the cold outdoors.
  Waddling down the stairs of your apartment to the front door, you struggled to put on your snow gloves, hoping and praying that no skin between materials would be exposed. Oikawa followed behind you, adjusting the fluffy beanie that covered his forehead. The two of you stood before your front door, staring at the silver door knob in anticipation. 
 “Ready?” You two asked in synchronization. 
  You giggled, then tugged the door open, exposing the blinding white scenery before your eyes. Your boyfriend smirked to himself, before unexpectedly picking you up bridal style and running out the front door, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. 
 “Oh my god- Tooru! Put me down you idiot.” You exclaimed, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. 
 “Not after calling me an idiot I won’t.” He smirked down at you
 “Tooooruuuu.” You whined, the noise bringing attention towards the two of you from a family in the next apartment. A couple with their two kids, who were currently making snow angels and now giggling at the sight of you and your child of a boyfriend. 
 “What’s the magic word?” The stubborn man persisted. 
 “Flatty-kawa.” You teased, only making the man’s grip on your body tighter.
 “Hey, no fair! I swear you and Iwa-chan love to mess with me.” He dropped his head sullenly, feigning sadness. 
  You rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend, “Oh boo-hoo, you know you love us.” You stuck your tongue out at the end of your sentence. 
 Oikawa chuckled, then smirked once remembering his true intention of holding you like this. 
 “Oh god, what are you-“
 
  Your boyfriend responded by swinging you into a pile of snow, your body flailing in the air for a good second before plummeting to the ground with a muffled “oof”. 
  The mischievous man above you couldn’t hold in his laughter, his eyes squinted shut and his cheeks tightened as he doubled-over in hysterics at your expense. You remained in your exact position, laying flat on your back with the cushion of the snow under you as you stared up at the blue sky above you. You slowly sat up, burning death glares into the side of your boyfriends head, as he laughed so hard that he had to bend over and hold onto his knees. You took advantage of the state he was in and reached over to grab one of his legs. You tugged as hard as you could, but curse your athletic boyfriend and his very toned legs. He only laughed more at your failed attempt to trip him, but all laughter was soon dismissed as he took a step and slipped on some ice. Your idiot of a boyfriend tumbled down next to you with a frightened look in his eyes, his right arm catching his fall. 
  Now was your turn to laugh, you fell backwards onto the snow as you clutched your stomach from laughter. It took you a few seconds of controlled breathing to calm yourself down. 
  “Wow, now that was pretty funny Tooru, I have to say-“ 
  You're cut off by your boyfriend tackling you on the ground, pinning your arms down - as best as he could with gloves on - and tickling your sides. Once again, there was only so much he could do with the amount of layers you had on. Even so, you still twitched and squirmed from the contact, slapping your boyfriends strong arms to stop.
 “Please- Tooru. I’m..I’m still so out of breath from befor- NO MORE PLEASE.” He tickled you relentlessly, you were about ready to kick him in the balls before he stopped. 
 “Alright, that’s enough payback I guess.” The boy grinned from above you, clearly very happy with himself. You were too out of breath from the previous laughing plus the tickle attack to retort. 
 “Yeah, yeah.” You lifted a shaky, glove-covered hand up to caress his face. He ignored the cold feeling of the glove being pressed against his face and just smiled down at you. He leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. You felt your body heat up, despite being in the snow, from his action. He teased you by not breaking the space between your lips. You tried to go in for it yourself, but he quickly pulled away, smirking down at you.
 “Tooru…” You meant to whine, but it came out as more of a breathless whisper, coated with desperation. 
 He noticed this and leaned in close again, this time kissing your cheek.
 “Hm?” He tested you. 
 “Kiss meee.” You pucker your lips for him, he couldn’t help but grin at your desperation.
 “Fine.” He gave in more easy than you expected, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was simple, it felt as if it would be quick and he would pull away, but he moved his lips rhythmically to deepen the kiss, turning it soft and sensual. You two slowly made out, your arms still pinned by his hands and your back still pressed into the snow. You only noticed then that his knee was in between your legs, had it been there before? 
  The longer you two made out, the more desperate the kiss became. Your two bodies aching for warmth had you guys grabbing at each other mindlessly. Oikawa was the one to pull away.
 “Y/n, we have a snow man to make!” The chocolate-haired boy released you from his grip as he sat up. 
  You pouted at him, clearly flustered and he knew that. Your cheeks were tinted a rosy pink, he was unsure if that was from him or the cold weather. He hoped it was him.
 “No pouting, you’ll get more of that later, I promise.” He winked at you while offering you a hand up. 
  Your eyes lit up at his words, as much as you hate to admit it. You took his hand and let him pull you up onto your feet. The two of you became preoccupied for the next 20 minutes, evidently dedicated to the snowman you were constructing. You packed while Oikawa rolled the snow, making a dream team of snowman builders. 
  After struggling to keep the second part of the snowman’s body upright - and a lot of you bossing around Tooru to help you pack more snow - you two were finally able to start forming the head.
 “Wait! Hold that thought, can you run inside and get buttons, a carrot and blueberries?” You interrupted your boyfriend’s rolling.
 “Sure thing baby, but why blueberries?” Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows.
 “You'll see don’t worry, I'll go look for sticks while you’re gone.” You rose to your feet and dusted off the snow on your pants.
  While Oikawa ran inside, you made a small trip around the outside of your apartment building, collecting a few sticks in your hands. You returned from your loop around the area to see your boyfriend exiting the house with his arms full. You jogged up to him and helped him with the items, the both of you returning to your snowman. You kneeled down and again, both of you were at work. You let Tooru smooth out the lumpy pieces of snow while you prepared your items. 
  You started with the eyes, using two black buttons. Then, proceeded with the carrot, as a nose of course. Next, the blueberries were placed one after another, curving into a smile. Lastly, you stuck the two sticks into the snowman’s body for two arms. You sat back content, admiring the work of you and your boyfriend.
 “Wait.” 
  Tooru realized that you forget the classic 3 buttons on the snowman’s torso, so he reached over and placed them himself. 
 “Beautiful, baby.” You praised your thoughtful boyfriend for his addition. 
 The two of you stood a few feet away from your snowman, arms intertwined as you admired the creation before you. Obviously, you both pulled out your phones and snapped a quick picture. 
 “Ooh, almost forgot.” You tugged your boyfriends arm to settle down onto the snow again with you, “We have to sign our artwork!”
 Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, as he had never heard of such a thing before, “Sign?” 
  You nodded, “Mhm. Me and my dad used to always make snow angels side-by-side in front of our snowman, to kinda sign it somehow. Does that make sense?” You inquired your boyfriend by looking up at him. 
  His heart absolutely melted at your sincere words, he smiled at you warmly in return. 
 “Yes baby, it makes sense.” 
  The two of you laid side-by-side in the snow, far enough apart to move your arms and legs back and forth. Once finishing, you stood up carefully - to not wreck your snow angel - and helped Tooru up too.
  You both embraced before your creations, cheek pressed to his chest as you gazed at all the love you two created. Cocoa-colored eyes flickered away from the snowy sight to bore down into yours, forever staring into each others souls. You stood on your tip-toes to place a soft kiss on your lover’s lips, one which he returned graciously. 
                                                             - 
  An hour later, Oikawa was found in the kitchen boiling a kettle of water, preparing to make you both hot chocolate. He worked diligently, adding marshmallows and whipped cream to his creations, then deciding to add a sprinkle of cinnamon too. 
  You emerged from the bathroom, hair freshly wet and combed through, but dressed warmly in a pair of sweatpants and one of your boyfriend’s hoodies. You circle the kitchen table and plant yourself behind Tooru, wrapping your arms around his firm torso. 
 “I got the fire place to work.” The boy in your hold spoke proudly.
 “Really? I knew it felt warmer in here. That’s great baby, thank you.” 
 He hummed a welcome in response, adding the last finishing touches to your drinks. 
  You pulled away as he handed you a red Christmas mug, filled to the brim with whipped cream and cinnamon. You brought the mug to your lips, noticing how your boyfriend leaned against the counter behind him, awaiting your reaction. You sipped the hot drink cautiously, enjoying the rich chocolate taste that invaded your mouth, the whipped cream and cinnamon really complemented it too. Your eyes lit up in delight, already telling Tooru that you loved it without words. 
 “Fuck, that’s delicious.” You cursed causing a chuckle from Oikawa. You always found the funniest way to say things during such soft moments, and it always amused the hell out of him. 
  You both seated yourselves on the sofa in front of your fireplace, soaking in the warmth from the flames. You sat back in the couch comfortably, the two of you intermittently sipping at your cocoas and rambling to each other about everything under the sun. After finishing your drink not long after Tooru, you placed the mug on the coffee table in front of you, then scooted yourself closer to your boyfriend. The flames of the fire had died down a little, but they were still there to keep you two warm. You wrapped your arms around your boyfriends waist and nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his divine scent. 
 “Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun.” You mumbled softly into his skin.
 “Of course, so did I. I wanna make so many more memories like today.” Tooru confessed, nuzzling into your damp hair. 
 You looked up at him, gazing into his rich eyes once again. It often felt as though you’d never get over the way his gaze made you feel. Years and years could go by and you’d still melt under his stare. 
 “Me too, and I know we will.” 
  He smiled down at you, cheeks warm from your beauty and the burning fire 5 feet away from him. He softened the smile on his lips to fit in between yours, caressing your cheek with his hand as he enveloped your lips in a kiss. This time, the kiss didn’t end abruptly after heating up. It only got hotter and hotter, ‘till both of you pulled away breathless. The breath of air lasted a few seconds, before you grabbed his face and continued the passionate kiss again. Lips massaging each other and both mouths full of the other person’s tongue. You tugged at Tooru’s hair, eliciting a moan from him, vibrating from his body into yours. He took this action from you as a sign to pull away and begin kissing the sensitive skin on your neck. You breathed heavily at the contact, tangling your fingers in his hair even more. After a few moments of pure bliss, you felt your lover pull away. Almost disappointed, you looked up at him with furrowed brows. He simply stroked the smooth skin on your cheek and spoke so low and so soft that he was barely audible. 
 “Let’s make love by the fire tonight, darling.”
75 notes · View notes
itsclydebitches · 3 years
Note
Hello again! Im the tinfoil hat anon with the long ass asks and I finally had the time to read your response. Thank you, it makes my day reading your answers. I honestly just enjoyed them over a cup of coffee like a good book.
Now, the gun pointing scene I mentioned was in fact the one from the droid fight facility like the other anon suggested. But I really liked that you covered the boat scene too, I haven’t thought of it much myself and now I definitely have!
I also would like to mention I love your “candy bar” choice analogy and I 100% agree Hunter’s “invitation” to join back wasn’t welcoming in the slightest. It is very likely just an obligation as you said. Sort of “you gave us a chance, we owe you a chance too”.
And the problem with it is now I am struggling to figure out how the batch members might change their attitude toward Crosshair going forward, especially Hunter. As of right now Crosshair’s best relationship is not with his brothers but with Omega(as surprising as this is). And I think he does realize now she cared about him the most out of all of them during the short time they interacted(both 1st and last episodes). Even between themselves(not counting Omega) I find most of the bad batch members to be cold and distant to each other. They feel less like a family than Rebels for example. And they aren’t even a “found family”(a trope everyone loves) but an actual one! And I get that they’re soldiers and supposed to be tough, I don’t expect them to share all “the feels”. I just can’t put my finger on it but something feels off. I agree with your previous post, the show doesn’t do a very good job showing or even telling they love each other.
Will Hunter and co only start caring about their brother again only after he leaves the empire?(assuming he does at some point). What about Disney’s prevailing theme and message that “family always love and care for each other no matter what”? I guess it’s “family always love and care for each other but only if you’re good guys making right choices”. There is no room for mistakes or wrong decisions. In the last episode everyone form the batch seemed to have given up on Crosshair(besides Omega). For now their attitude seems to be just “you’re not our enemy” and that’s that.
I realize Crosshair is a “bad guy” and consciously made his choice(and we know it’s the wrong one) but to me it felt like he thought he didn’t even had a choice or rather became so lost and confused he actually thought he chose the empire as “the lesser evil”(as in the less shitty choice out of all the other bad ones). We as audience have the benefit to know exactly how atrocious the empire really is but maybe Crosshair still doesn’t realize that.
So what exactly must Crosshair do to get back “in their good graces” as you say? Start saving “the good guys”? Save the bad batch multiple times? There is a popular opinion on how Crosshair can redeem himself. That he eventually heroically sacrifices himself to save them. I personally REALLY hope it’s NOT what’s going to happen but I heard so many people speculating his story is set up to be redemption=death. I know you mentioned you don’t want “Vader style redemption” either. Personally I think it would be a waste of a character who has a lot of potential. And I just think that the batch kind of don’t really deserve his sacrifice(maybe save for Omega) after how they never tried to save him themselves and how they treated him overall. Maybe he will risk his life to save Omega at some point and that will “prove” to Hunter he cares? Although he has already shown he cares by saving her(even if in Crosshair’s own words it’s just so they’re “even”). And the thing is, he doesn’t need to prove that he loves them, he already did that in episode 15 and made it clear he does care. He actually went to extreme by shooting his squad to prove his loyalty. What were the moments the batch demonstrated they care about him? Hunter saying “you never were our enemy” and taking his unconscious body to safety? To me Hunter “not leaving him behind” during bombardment felt more like guilt about the last time it happened and an obligation to Crosshair for helping them with droids, rather than them showing care. And I kinda of think if that was any random civilian(or anyone other than an enemy or a threat) they would carry them out too just because that’s what good guys do and not because it’s their brother. You also mentioned that minutes later Hunter snaps at him with “if you want to stay here and die, that’s your choice” which I agree can be interpreted in different ways. And I think it’s one more point to it being an obligation that in Hunter’s eyes is fulfilled now. He corrected his mistake of leaving a brother behind and saved him this time, now his guilt won’t burden him any longer.
Anyway, I can’t wait for season 2 and I appreciate you and all the anons sharing the tinfoil hat, interacting and speculating together. Those discussions have been a lot of fun!
TLDR: How do your think the relationship between the brothers will mend or evolve in the next season? Do you think S2 will improve in portraying the batch more as a family rather than a group of mercs doing missions together? What are your thoughts on the popular idea of Crosshair’s redemption by ultimate sacrifice? As in, how likely do you think this scenario is?
Anon, that is just wonderfully hilarious to me. Ah yes, the sunrise, a good cup o' joe, and the overly long character analysis of a snarky, fictional sniper. Exactly what everyone needs in the morning! 😆
You know, TBB is far from the first show I've watched where there's an obvious, emotional conclusion the creator wants the audience to come to—the squad all love each other Very Much—yet that conclusion isn't always well supported by the text. It creates this horribly awkward situation where you're going, "Yes, I'm fully aware of what the show wanted to do, but this reading, arguably, did not end up in the story itself. So what are we talking about here? The intention, or the execution?" It's like Schrödinger's Bad Batch where the group is simultaneously Very Loving and Very Distant depending on how much meta-aspects are influencing your reading: those authorial intentions, understanding of how found family tropes should work, fluff focused fics/fan art that color our understanding of the characters, etc. And, of course, whether someone saw TCW before they watched TBB. I personally wouldn't go quite so far as to say they're "cold" towards one another—with Crosshair as an exception now—but there wasn't the level of bonding among the squad that I expected of a show called The Bad Batch. Especially compared to their arc in TCW. The other night I re-watched the season seven premiere and was struck not just by how much more the squad interacted with each other back then, but how those interactions added depth to their characters too. For example, Crosshair is the mean one, right? He's the one picking fights with the Regs? Well yeah... but it's also Wrecker. While they're trying to decide what to do with Cody injured, Jesse calls out Crosshair on his attitude—"You can't talk to Captain Rex like that!"—and Wrecker's immediate response is, "Says who?" and he hefts Jesse into the air. And then he just holds him there, clearly using his superior strength to do as he pleases, until Hunter (sounding pretty angry) tells him to put Jesse down. If Wrecker had put him into a more classically understood bullying position, like pinning him to the ground, it would probably read as less funny—less "Haha strong clone lifts Jesse up in the air!" and more "Oh shit, strong clone can do whatever the hell he wants to the Regs and few are able to stop him." It's such a quick moment, but it tells us a ton about Wrecker. That he's going to stick up for his brothers, no matter the context (Crosshair deserves to be called out). That he will gleefully assist Crosshair in bothering the Regs (something that is reinforced when he later throws the trays in the mess hall, after Hunter has already deescalated the situation). That he's likely been hurt by awful treatment from the Regs too. That he'll only listen to Hunter when it comes to backing off. Little of this work—that interplay among the squad that shows us new sides to them other than basic things like "Wrecker is the nice, happy brother"—exists in TBB.
Or, at least, little exists after Omega becomes an official member of the squad.
Because, as said previously, she becomes the focus. I don't mean that as a total criticism. As established, I love Omega. But if we're talking about why the squad can feel so distant from each other, I think she's the root cause, simply because the story became all about her relationships with the Batch, rather than the Batch's relationships with each other. Having dived headfirst into reading and writing fic, it occurred to me just how many of the bonding moments we love, the sort of stuff we'll see repeated in fics because we understand that this is where the story's emotional center is, are given to Omega in canon:
Someone is hurt and in need of comfort. Omega's emotional state is the focus + moments like her being worried over Hunter getting shot.
Someone needs to learn a new skill. Echo teaches Omega how to use her bow.
Someone reveals a skill they never knew they had before. Omega is a strategic genius and plays her last game with Hunter.
Someone is in serious danger and in need of rescue. Omega rescues the group from the slavers + is the most vocal about rescuing Hunter. (Which, again, is a pretty sharp contrast to the whole Crosshair situation.) Omega, in turn, needs rescuing from things like the decommission conveyor belt.
Similarly, someone is kidnapped and in need of rescue. Omega is kidnapped twice by bounty hunters and the Batch goes after her.
Someone saves another's life. Omega saves Crosshair from drowning.
Someone does something super sweet for another. Wrecker gives Omega her room. Omega gives Wrecker Lula.
A cute tradition is established between characters. Wrecker has his popcorn-esque candy sharing with Omega.
Someone hurts someone else and has to ask forgiveness. Wrecker is upset about nearly shooting Omega and they have that sweet moment together.
Note that most of these examples could have occurred between other Batch members, but didn't. Someone could have created a space for Echo on the ship too. Wrecker also could have apologized to Tech for choking him, etc. It's not that those moments shouldn't happen with Omega, just that there should be more of a balance across the whole season, especially for a show supposedly focused on the original squad. Additionally, it's not that cute bonding moments between the rest of the Batch don't exist. I love Hunter selling Echo off as a droid. I love Wrecker and Tech bickering while fixing the ship. I love the tug-of-war to save Wrecker from the sea monster. Yes, we do have moments... it's just that comparatively it feels pretty skewed in Omega's direction.
So, as a VERY long-winded way of answering your question, I think we need to fix the above in order to tackle Crosshair's redemption in season two. Now that we've had a full season focused on Omega, we need to strike a better balance among the rest of the squad moving forward. We need to re-established the "obvious" conclusion that the rest of the Batch loves Crosshair and that's done (in part) by establishing their love for one another too. To my mind, both goals go hand-in-hand, especially since you can develop their relationship with Crosshair and their relationships with each other simultaneously. Imagine if instead of just having Wrecker somewhat comically admit that he misses Crosshair (like he's dead and they can't go get him??), he and Tech had a serious conversation about why they can't get him back yet, despite very much wanting to. Imagine if Echo, the one who was rescued against all odds, got to scream at Hunter to go get Crosshair like Omega screamed at them to go back for Hunter. Imagine if we'd gotten more than a tiny arc in TCW to establish the Batch's dynamic with each other, providing a foundation for how they would each react to Crosshair's absence. Instead, what little we've got in TBB about Crosshair's relationship with his brothers is filtered through Omega: Omega's embarrassment that she knocked over Crosshair's case, Omega treating Crosshair's comm link like a toy, Omega's quest to save Hunter that just happened to involve Crosshair along the way.
Obviously, at this point we can't fix how the first season did things, but I think we can start patching over these issues in season two. It would be jarring—we'd still be 100% correct to ask where this "Brothers love you, support you, and will endlessly fight for you" theme was for Crosshair's entire time under the Empire's thumb... but I'd take an about-face into something better than not getting any improvement at all. It is frustrating though, especially for a show that I otherwise really, really enjoyed. For me, the issue isn't so much that the show made a mistake (since no show is perfect), but that the mistake is attached to such a foundational part of the franchise. Not just in terms of "SW is about hope and forgiveness" but the specific relationship most clones have with each other: a willingness to go above and beyond for their brothers. The focus on Omega aside, it's hard to believe in the family dynamic when one member of the family was so quickly and easily dismissed. I couldn't get invested in Hunter's rescue as much as I should have because rather than going, "Yes!! Save your brother!!!" my brain just kept going, "Lol where was this energy for Crosshair?" It messes with your reading of the whole story, so in order to fix that mistake going forward, we need to start seeing the bonds that only sometimes exist in season one. Show the guys expressing love for one another more consistently (in whatever way that might be—as you say, soldiers don't have to be all touchy-feely. Give us more moments like Wrecker supporting his brothers' bad habits) and then extend that to Crosshair. Which brother is going to demand that they fight for him? Which brother is going to acknowledge that they never tried to save him? Which brother is going to question this iffy statement about the chip? In order to buy into the family theme, Omega can't be the only one doing that emotional work.
Ideally, I wouldn't want Crosshair to go out of his way to prove that he's a good guy now. I mean, I obviously want him to stop helping the Empire and such, duh lol, but I'm personally not looking for a bunch of Extra Good Things directed at the Batch as a requirement for forgiveness. Simply because that would reinforce the idea that they're 100% Crosshair's victims, Crosshair is 100% the bad guy, and he's the only one who needs to do any work to fix this situation. Crosshair needs to stop doing bad things (working for Empire). But the Batch needs to start doing good things too (reaching out to him). Especially since Crosshair made a good play already, only to be met with glares and distrust. He saved Omega! And AZI! And none of them cared. So am I (is Crosshair) supposed to believe that saving one of their lives again will result in a different reaction? That doesn't make much sense. And no, his own life wasn't at risk when he did that, but does every antagonist need to die/nearly die to prove they're worth fighting for? As you say, he's already shown that he loves them, far more than they've shown the reverse. Every time Crosshair hurt them (attacking) it was while he was under the chip's influence. In contrast, the group has no "I was being controlled" excuse for when they hurt him (abandonment). Season two needs to acknowledge the Batch's responsibility in all this—and acknowledge that they're all victims of the Empire—in order to figure out an appropriate arc for Crosshair's redemption.
Right now, the issue is not Crosshair loving his brothers, the issue is how Crosshair chooses to express that love: trying to keep them safe and giving them a purpose in life by joining the organization that's clearly going to dominate the galaxy. The only way to fix that, now that his offer has been rejected, is for him to realize that a life on the run from the Empire, together, is a better option for everyone. And the only way for that to happen is for the Batch to seriously offer him a place with them again. They need to make the first move here. They need to fight for him. And yeah, I totally get that a lot of people don't like that because it's not "fair." He's the bad guy. He's with the fascist allegory. He's killed people and has therefore lost any right to compassion and effort from the good guys... but if that's the case, then we just have to accept that (within the story-world, not from a writing perspective) Crosshair is unlikely to ever come back from this. When people reach that kind of low, they rarely pull themselves out on their own. They need other people to help them do that. Help them a lot. But with the exception of Omega's reminder—which Crosshair can't believe due to how everyone else has treated him—they leave him alone and seem to expect him to fix himself first, then he gets their support. It needs to be the other way around. Support is what would allow him to become a good guy again, not "Well, you'll get our love when you're good again, not before." That's unlikely to occur and, as discussed, it doesn't take into account things like this bad guy life being forced on Crosshair at the start. If the story really wanted this to be a matter of ideological differences... then make it about ideological differences. Let Crosshair leave of his own free will, right at the start. Don't enslave him for half the season, have him realize he was abandoned, imply all that brainwashing, give him no realistic way out, and then punish him for not doing the right thing. This isn't a situation where someone went bad for the hell of it—the story isn't asking us to feel compassion for, say, the Admiral—it's a situation where Crosshair was controlled and now can't see a way out. That context allows for the Batch, the good guys, to fight for him without the audience thinking the show is just excusing that behavior. They should have been fighting from the start, but since they didn't, I hope we at least start seeing that in season two.
Ultimately though... I don't really expect all of the above. The more balanced dynamics and having the Batch fight for Crosshair rather than Crosshair going it alone... I wouldn't want to bet any money on us getting it, just because these are things that should have been established in season one and would have been more easy to pull off in season one. (If the Batch wouldn't fight for Crosshair while he was literally under the Empire's control, why would they fight now when he's supposedly acting of his own free will? It's backwards in terms of the emotional effort involved.) But again, it could happen! I'd be very pleased if it did happen, despite the jarring change. I don't want to make it sound like I think they're going to write off Crosshair entirely. Far from it, I think there are too many details like his sad looks for that, to say nothing of Omega's compassion. But the execution of getting him on Team Good Guys again might be preeeetty bumpy. I expect it to revolve around Crosshair's sins and Crosshair's redemption, even if what I would like is balancing that with Crosshair's loss of agency, the Batch's mistakes, and their own redemption towards him.
Honestly though, I just hope that whatever happens happens soon. It's a personal preference, absolutely, but after a season of Crosshair as the antagonist, I'm ready for him to be back with the group, making the Empire (and bounty hunters) the primary enemy. Whether his return happens through a mutual acknowledgement of mistakes, or through Crosshair being depicted as the only one in the wrong who has to do something big to be forgiven... just get him back with the squad lol. Because if the writing isn't going to delve into that nuance, then the longer he remains unforgiven, the longer some of us have to watch a series while going, "Wait, wait, wait, I really don't agree with how you're painting this picture."
7 notes · View notes
hale-13 · 3 years
Text
Submersion
By Hale13
For the Summer of Whump Day 3 - Drowning
Peter never thought he would see the day where he wouldn’t enjoy fighting side by side with Iron Man but here he is.
Words: 1759, Chapters 1/1 (Complete), Language: English
Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Rating: Gen
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark
TW: Drowning
Read on AO3 or below the line break.
“Duck,” Tony called as he sailed over Peter’s head to knock over bot that was sneaking up behind him. Peter rolled his eyes but dropped anyway to stay clear the the incoming repulsers blast; he had both heard the sound of the heavy metal steps and felt his Spidey sense tingle to warn him of the upcoming threat and was already prepared to web it to the wall to be dealt with later but now he was just lying on the ground like an idiot while Tony took out the drone. His mentor had been super overbearing for the entirety of the past couple hours that they had been dismantling the reinforced bots and it was really starting to grate on Peter’s already thinned out nerves.
“I had that!” He hollered up toward the floating Iron Man armor, paying no heed to the comm in his mask that would perfectly translate his words without the extra effort and strain on his vocal cords. Peter didn’t care though, it felt good to yell and blow off a little steam. He violently punched through the chest plate of the bot he was fending off and then shook out his hand once it was shot off the side of the Brooklyn Bridge – he had definitely busted a knuckle that time.
Tony zipped away to head off a few more of the flying ones above them and said a quick, “You sure did kiddo,” which made Peter bristle up even more. He knew that Tony meant well and was just trying to help but he still over interpreted the words to sound condescending and demeaning – like he was here for no other reason than entertainment. Shaking his head to clear it, Peter hopped back into the fight. Now was not the time to get distracted and over-analyze anything.
“Shit!” He heard Tony shout both over the comms and through the air as he took a hit from the surplus of Hammer Tech as he was knocked to the far end of the bridge.
“Tony!” Peter called, his irritation of before quickly overshadowed by concern. He hastily fired a web to swing towards his mentor but ground to a halt when Tony coughed out an “I’m fine!” as the brilliant red and gold armor crested the edge of the bridge in the distance to smash into the drone above him. “I can’t leave you over there with all of them alone!” Peter protested.
“Just catch the outliers,” Tony said, breathing slightly ragged in exertion. “Some of them are bound to get past me.”
Peter felt his eye twitch in renewed vexation as he relaxed his grip on the webbing enough to let it go. Tony knew that he was the target of this latest attack by Justin Hammer and was, clearly, doing his level best to keep Peter as far away from the action as humanly possible. Twitching from his overload of adrenaline, Peter bounced on his toes and webbed up a partially destroyed drone that landed a few feet away.
“How many we got left K?” Peter asked, eyes following the fight with the assistance of his suits AI.
“I’m unable to tell Peter,” Karen’s bright, chirpy voice replied through his private comm. “They are cloaked from my sensors. I can ping FRIDAY if you’d like?”
“No,” Peter said, petulant, as he replaced his web cartridges. “Don’t bother.”
“Sure thing!”
Peter sighed again and leaned back against the smoking car behind him. He hated being useless and he hated twiddling his thumbs when he could be helpful; and he was pissed because he knew that Tony knew this about him. His Spidey sense tingled up his spine but Peter brushed it off after a quick survey of the area – it still occasionally did that for no reason if he was amped up.
“Finishing up here, kid. You all set?” Mr. Stark asked as he soared overhead with three of the drones following closely on his tail. Peter felt his eye twitch a little but responded in the affirmative, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice – there would be plenty of time to hash things out with Tony after they were back in the Tower. As the flight stabilizers of the Iron Man armor faded off Peter felt his Spidey sense twitch again just a second too late.
Clearly, both of them had missed one of the Hammer drones somewhere as Peter fell to the ground, the metal arms wrapped tight around his waist and arms and locked into place. He struggled as he was dragged back to the edge of the bridge but couldn’t seem to break the grip. His logical brain was working through equations and understood that, with the lack of space to move, he would be unable to escape.
All these thoughts came too slowly, though, because it only took a few seconds before he was pulled over the edge of the bridge and into a free fall, smacking into the cold water of the Hudson moments later. Unprepared, Peter’s lungs let out a burst of the limited amount of oxygen he had been able to take in as water rushed down his throat and his struggles renewed. He opened his eyes and felt them sting from the dirty water, the sunlight barely visible the lower they sank. His HUD was lit red and he could hear Karen’s muffled voice in his ear as his body convulsed and his vision darkened.
His last thoughts as he passed out were of May and Tony and the overbearing pain in his chest.
——————————————————————————
“Please tell me that was the last one FRI,” Tony begged from high above the smoking Brooklyn Bridge. He was sweating through the three-piece suit he hadn’t managed to completely shed before stepping into the armor and he was dying for a shower and a large mushroom and olive pizza from Mario’s.
“Area secure,” FRIDAY replied. “Karen has sent an SOS from the Spider suit – I’m sending the directions to your HUD.”
“Shit,” Tony cursed as he immediately blasted toward the opposite side of the bridge and the blinking beacon FRI was projecting for him. “Vitals?”
“Unable to read Boss,” the AI said. “The suit GPS is reading one-hundred and twenty-seven feet below the water directly under you.” Blood going cold at the implication, Tony increased his speed and broke the surface at high speed, eyes darting through the water to find the bright red of Peter’s suit.
Peter’s body was completely limp in the grip of one of the larger drones and Tony didn’t bother to unhook the two as he grabbed Peter and swiftly pulled him close before surging out of the water and back to land on the uninhabited bridge above him. FRIDAY helpfully removed his helmet as Tony activated his laser to release Peter from the drones grip, yanking the stretchy mask over the teenagers head. His lips were blue and his face pale under the bright mask and Tony crammed his unloved fingers to Peter’s carotid artery, heart sinking when it was still beneath Peter’s chilled skin.
“Fuck,” Tony cursed, positioning his hands over Peter’s unmoving chest and beginning his first round of compressions. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he continued, counting to thirty in his head before tilting Peter’s head back to clear his airway and administering two rescue breaths. Peter’s chest still didn’t move after and he felt no breathing so Tony took up another round of compressions. “Come on Pete,” he begged, tears beading at the corners of his eyes but he refused to let them fall and cloud his vision. “Not today. Not like this!” He gave two more breaths and had to lean back quickly when water gushed from Peter’s mouth. “There you go buddy,” Tony said, rolling Peter onto his side in the recovery position and patting his back firmly to help release the water from his lungs. “Get it all up now.”
“Tony,” Peter choked out, his voice sounding rough and warbling around his coughs. His lips were still a pale blue but were rapidly pinking as his lungs cleared of water and were able to absorb oxygen.
“Don’t talk,” Tony said, lifting Peter’s trembling body up to rest against his chest. “Just breath for now, ok?” Peter nodded as more water dribbled down his chin and he gagged, vomiting a mixture of bile and vile river sludge. Tony crinkled his nose in disgust but wiped the kid’s chin down anyways with the corner of his suit jacket. They sat for a few more minutes in silence as Peter continued to cough and retch before going silent except for the ragged gasps he was drawing in. “I’m going to take you to see Cho now alright? Just let me do all the work.”
Not waiting for Peter’s permission, Tony fully suited back up and cautiously maneuvered Peter into his arms where he laid limply with his head lolled against Tony’s chest. Tony felt his heart clench before taking off, pointing his thrusters in the direction of the compound.
“If I have to tell you to keep that mask on one more time,” Tony threatened, “I’m going to glue it to your face.”
Peter huffed, but obediently rested the oxygen mask back against the lower part of his face, his steady breaths fogging up the clear plastic and doing nothing to hide the look of exhausted indignation on his protégés face. “I feel fine,” Peter protested but Tony didn’t believe him. The kid’s voice was still raw and hoarse and he looked like he had gone a few rounds with the Hulk. Most telling, though, was the fact that Peter hadn’t yet tried to engage in an elaborate escape attempt from the MedBay.
“I’m sorry, when did you get you medical degree?” Tony retorted with an eye roll. “Dr. Cho is keeping you overnight on oxygen until your saturations are normal and starting you on a heavy duty antibiotic and breathing treatments. Do you want pneumonia?”
“No,” Peter answered, petulant but wiggling around until he was more comfortable in the bed and resting against the pillows propped up behind him.
“Then you’ll do as she says.” Tony said firmly, reaching out to run one hand through Peter’s gritty curls and down to squeeze the back of his neck. “Just give it one night okay? One night before you’re back out there figuring out new and improved ways to make me prematurely grey.”
Peter smiled and let out a chuckle before letting his eyes slip closed. “One night,” he agreed.
11 notes · View notes
gigiree · 4 years
Text
On Sentiment
Le Paon makes a sentimonster who looks like Chat Noir. Adrien now struggles to take care of him and not let him get hurt like the Ladybug Sentimonster was. I GUESS CONSIDER THIS ME JUMPING ON THE CRACK ADRICHAT BECAUSE IT REALLY IS CRACK. THANKS @buggachat. interpret however you want. im going with agape love.
On the day you are made, it is discovered just how powerful sheer emotion can be. On the day Le Paon swipes her fan and the winds give rise to your form, solid and warm, Chat Noir mirrors your wide-eyed wonder.
You are shocked when his green eyes (exactly like yours) narrow with fear. A hiss escapes his bared teeth. Even his hair seems to be on end, puffing all over the place with the static arcing in the air. You think it’s sort of funny.
What is this strange ticklish feeling in your chest? It’s all bubbly. You don’t stop it as it bubbles up and escapes from your throat. Ah! It’s a laugh. You like it. It’s warm and this new existence is oh so cold.
Le Paon’s will prods at your mind. It makes your body want to leap forward. To pounce and rend Ladybug and Chat Noir into black and red ribbons.
You don’t like that.
But still you pounce because your body burns when you don’t. 
Ladybug and Chat Noir save your feather from Le Paon’s clutches. Things feel a little warmer. A little scarier because things are out of your control, still.
“What do we do with him?! I don’t...We need to find a place for him. I don’t want him to be hurt. Not like her...” Ladybug tells Chat Noir desperately, running her hands through her inky hair. You want to touch it. It looks shiny.
Chat Noir looks pained. Scared. Not distrustful, but he looks at you like he might look at a spectre. He pinches the bridge of his nose with clawed fingers just like yours.
“We have to hide him. He’s got the same powers as me and he doesn’t have a limit that we know of. And I don’t want a version of me running around Paris up to no good.”
Ladybug laughs.
“You’re usually up to no good. Would there be a difference, Kitty?”
Chat Noir pouts. You smile. You like their humor. It’s funny. You want in. You want to be included. The feather in Chat Noir’s hand is held gently. You can trust them.
“Let me stay with you Chat Noir. I promise I won’t be trouble.”
Chat Noir still looks suspicious. Ladybug sighs.
“It’s probably for the best. You said your house is really big. I don’t have that much room in my home.”
So that’s how you, the doppelganger, ends up going home with Chat Noir.
----
Chat Noir, much to your surprise, is Adrien. 
His eyes are still green, but they are no longer exactly like yours.
There’s still the same suspicion in them, but it’s softened by the worry in his eyes as you struggle to slip on the pajama set he gives you. He seems very confused that you are able to take off your suit and glove, but cannot remove your mask or ears.
“H-how...How does that work?” Adrien asks you. Plagg seems unconcerned. He’s already curled up with his cheese on a stinky sock.
Plagg simply says “magic”.
You merely accept it, like you do with everything in this new life. You hadn’t existed up until yesterday. Why question little things now?
“Don’t know.” You say blithely, wincing when you accidentally tear the sleeve of the silky pajamas with your still-sharp claws.
Adrien sighs, but he’s gentle as he extricates your fingers from the fabric and helps you slip it on over your unruly hair. He doesn’t linger. He’s very quick about it.
But you still feel the warmth of welcome in his actions, and it makes you feel at peace. The feeling curls in your chest, warm and content. You let it rise up and lift the corners of your fanged mouth into a grateful smile.
“Thanks!” 
Adrien’s smile in return is sheepish, if somewhat uncomfortable. He tucks your feather under his pillow.
“You’re going to have to stay here until we can figure out what to do with you.” He says, then frowns. “Don’t go out without me. Don’t let anyone in this house see you.”
He tosses you a pillow and a soft blanket. You have to sleep on his spare couch, but it’s warm and you are safe and free.
You have no trouble accepting those terms as you curl up sleepily. You dream of red and black ribbons and feathers floating against the stars.
-------
You break your promise. You let someone in this house see you, but to your credit, it was to save Adrien.
They’d called for Chat Noir and Ladybug. You’d watched as Plagg’s magic, sharp and hor, wrapped itself around Adrien’s form. You’d watched as he’d given you a sharp glare with those same green eyes, before leaping out his window.
He’d left the piano music playing from his phone. You’d hid in his expansive closet. But your sharp hearing catches the jingling of a door knob being shaken. 
You only think of Adrien. You think of his kindness and his gentle exasperation as he’d brought you food and showed you how to brush your hair and told you how to play a game called Brawl Bros.
You only think of Adrien when you wrap himself in one of his luxury cardigans and sit on the piano bench and set your claws on the bench. 
You catch your reflection on the shiny, black surface of the piano and nearly hiss. You will yourself to change. You will it so much that your body burns.
It burns as your ears recede and your mask disappears and your claws shrink a bit.
It is without much fanfare that Nathalie opens the door, merely sees your mop of golden hair moving over the top of the piano, and leaves. She’d bought the ruse.
You stay there a bit more, heaving a sigh of relief. When you look back at your reflection, you are shocked to see that you look a little more like Adrien...but you’re not him. Your corneas are still green. Your fangs still large and your mask has gone away, only to give way to an inky darkness that mars the space around your eyes.
Strange.
You are tired. You take your blanket and your pillow and curl up in the closet to rest. The bed is Adrien’s space. You refuse to take it, in any capacity. You are not him.
-----
When Adrien and you can finally get down the rules for your ability to change your features, he decides it’s safe to take you to school.
“So yeah. This is my British cousin from my mom’s cousin’s uncle’s side. His name’s Garfield. He’s decided to study in Paris for a year.”
Nino blinks at you. Then he blink at Adrien. Then he blinks at you once more. 
“The family resemblance is uncanny, man. Your other cousin Felix looks just the like two of you too. Daaaamn.” He finally announces. 
Adrien sighs with relief. The arm he’s slung around your shoulder relaxes.
“Hahaha. Yeaaaaah. Family genes are strong. But Garfield, meet Nino.”
“Nice to meet you, bro.” Nino says, offering his hand.
You have it. You have your own name. It makes you so incandescently happy. You feel that familiar bubbling sensation in your chest. The one you know means you want to laugh. You do not hold back. Adrien usually holds back his laughs. Tucks them into the corner of his mouth and releases a modest puff of air when around people he doesn’t feel comfortable with.
You, however, have no such compunction. You were created in Chat Noir’s image. And Chat Noir laughs freely.
So you do.
You reach forward to take Nino’s hand and shake it so hard, his headphones rattle.
Adrien looks embarrassed. Nino looks enthused. 
Your sharp hearing catches the whispers of speculation from the class. But Adrien looks relieved and he shoots you a quiet smile that says “good job.”
You are warm and content. You have two friends now.
----
Marinette makes for a wonderful, third friend. She also happens to come with a myriad of others clinging to her wake.
He can’t blame them. She’s so bright and kind, she matches Adrien well.
She takes your hand after you cut it trying to work on your physics project. She uses a pretty, embroidered handkerchief to wrap up your wound. Her blue eyes echo familiar as they peer up at you.
“Up to no good again, Garfield?” She says this, but it’s teasing. 
That echoes familiar too. Her small hands are warm. 
You’ve already decided that you like her by the time she’s done wrapping up your wound.
“I can help you with this?” She gestures towards the pile of foam blocks on your desk.  
You feel a burning on your face. Ah embarrassment. Still, laughter always feels good. So you laugh at yourself. Then you nod. 
“Yes please. I’m not all that good with this stuff.”
----
Adrien screams into his pillow.
Plagg looks a bit sad as he curls up next to his boy. You click your claws together in agitation. It seems your base form will always be of Chat Noir’s double. It’s the most comfortable way to be when you want to rest.
A lot had happened today.
You’d stayed out of the way, but your sharp ears had overheard it.
Adrien begging his father to show up for the school’s talent day. His father’s frigid dismissal. Then he’d leapt out the window leaving you behind.
He’d come back. A little angrier, a little sharper. But also resigned. Like he’d given up on something that had been making him happy.
You don’t have to ask much to gather that it is Ladybug. He’d gotten a more final answer.
“She likes someone else.”
You don’t know what to do about that. The one time you’d met Ladybug, you’d thought she was kind. A good person. Remarkable. But you’ve met plenty of kind people who are remarkable in their own way. 
Rose was remarkable when she’d made you a bracelet. Juleka when she’d done your makeup for a fun class film. Alya when she’d taken your hand and shoved an ice cream cone into it while you’d hung back from the group. Nino when he’d shown you his wonderful new remixes. Kagami when she’d arm-wrestled you and laughed as she took your arm down. Marinette was remarkable when she brought you eclairs everyday because you’d said once a while ago that you liked them.
Adrien was remarkable when he’d brushed back your tangled hair and asked you to play video games with him. Adrien when he’d shared with you his collection of favorite anime. Adrien when he let you make a mess and try on all the interesting clothes in his closet.
Adrien when he’d handed you your feather in a show of ultimate trust. He’d freed you.
Your chest feels tight? The color green comes to mind, but you don’t think much of it when you sit on the foot of his bed.
“I’m sorry. That...That sucks,” You say quietly. Which is unusual for you.
Adrien doesn’t move, but he moves to face you. HIs gaze softens with sorrow.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Garfield.”
Then you snort.
“I get it now. You named me after a fat, orange cat.”
Adrien rolls his eyes. Good. You’ve distracted him.
“An iconic orange cat.”
“I don’t eat that much!”
Adrien grabs his pillow, startling Plagg and hits you with it. You fall on the bed from the impact. The pillow over your face.
“You’re a good friend, Garfield.” He says after a moment.
 Adrien’s laughing. You’re in his space, and it’s okay. You’re his friend.
-----
Marinette likes Adrien. She’s told you this in confidence.
You don’t quite know what to say. Pain is a nasty feeling. It eats away at your chest and kinda makes you want to pounce just like Le Paon had. Pounce away from the source of the pain. Marinette is your friend. 
She cries into her hands. She’s been tired as of late. More stressed. Then she’d overheard Adrien rejecting an upperclassman’s confession.
I’m sorry. I like someone else.
She falls into your arms when you offer her a hug. 
The tight feeling in your chest returns. It’s painful, but not angry. You know it could easily become a bad thing, but your appreciation runs too deep to do so.
You keep it to yourself, but you get it. You understand Marinette. You really do.
Because Adrien is remarkable and it’s finally hit you that golden things can’t stay.
-----
You hold your feather in your hand. It’s fading.
You and you alone are responsible for this. Choice is a wonderful thing.
You take the shot for Ladybug and Chat Noir. For who you know now are Marinette and Adrien. The people who are most precious to you.
Rena Rouge shrieks behind them, just running up to catch sight of this new Sentimonster’s beam of energy piercing through you.
It was a good life. A short one, but the choice is all yours.
Because you exist. Because you feel. Because you’re you and your friend gave you a name and a home and memories worth dying for.
You feel really warm in their dual embrace. Chat Noir’s holding you. Ladybug’s stroking your hair. Rena Rouge has knelt to hold one of your clawed hands. Carapace watches, grief etched onto his face.
You suppose, you should feel grateful. Although you wish you could’ve spent a little more time with them.
Just a little more. You fade away, a “thank you” the last thing that floats from your lips like a lost feather in the breeze.
-------
You wake.
Their smiling faces greet you. Your friends.
They look a little older. A lot sharper and care worn, but their hands are warm as they stand you up in your shaky, solid form.
“H-how?” You cough out, incredulous.
Adrien laughs. Marinette looks amused.
“We made a wish. We missed you, Garfield.”
You feel that familiar bubbling feeling in your chest. You are breathless as you laugh and that laugh turns into sobs.
It hurts to feel, but it’s such a warm, comforting pain.
You’re glad of it.
11 notes · View notes
Text
Febuwhump Day 3: Taken
Fandom: MCU Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark Relationships: Peter Parker/Ned Leeds  Rating: T Warnings: school shooting, hostage situation Words 2.8k
read on ao3
first | previous | next
loosely interpreting the prompt because...i can lmao. i’m probably gonna hate the ending tomorrow but it’s like 11:00 and i wanna sleep folks
“If Tony Stark’s little intern hands himself over to us, everyone else can leave untouched. Our business is with Peter Benjamin Parker, and only Peter Benjamin Parker.”
The man says his full name both times, like there’s a deeper meaning to it, like he’s saying, I know who you are. I know everything about you.
Peter doesn’t know if that’s true (is he here for Spider-Man or just for the kid who’s connected to Tony Stark?), but the words settle low in his chest and make it hard to breathe all the same. Whatever this is about, there’s only one way this can go down, and that’s with Peter doing as told.
He has to.
He’s Spider-Man. And Spider-Man protects the little guy, puts everyone else above himself. Spider-Man makes any and all sacrifices necessary to keep other people out of danger.
If that means walking himself right into a room of bad guys, likely with guns, as Peter Parker - scrawny, geeky, vulnerable Peter Parker - then so be it.
He flips the top on his watch and presses the button on the inside, holds until the blinking light appears to tell him that his panic button has worked.
Then, almost in a trance, Peter stands. He hears voices around him, kids hissing his name or frantically asking what the hell is happening or just swearing up and down. The words don’t really register in his head, and Peter doesn’t bother trying to focus his hearing because, well. He has better things to worry about, after all.
His feet move automatically. A step away from the wall he’d been sitting against, a step toward the door, a step toward his own potential demise. A step toward Midtown High’s potential salvation.
He gets halfway through the room before a hand encircles his wrist. He doesn’t turn. Knows exactly who is holding him back, but can’t turn to look at him because he can’t afford any cracks in his resolve.
“Peter,” Ned says, and his tone is sharp. Imploring. Desperate. His grip is tight on Peter’s arm, fingers pressing firm against his pulse point, right where his webshooters would be if he were in any way prepared for this.
(Code Red. This is not a drill - the school is now on lockdown. Repeat: Code Red. Engage lockdown protocol.
Webshooters in his gym bag. Gym bag in his locker. Wrists glaringly bare.) “Peter, please. Please think this through, Peter, you can’t just -” “I have to,” Peter says softly. The words, which come out much steadier than anticipated, are for Ned and no one else. “Ned, you know I have to.”
Someone murmurs under their breath, “Oh my fucking God.” Ned visibly flinches.
(A part of Peter wishes the lockdown had happened, say, an hour earlier, when he and Ned were in separate classes. It would’ve been so much easier to leave if his best friend wasn’t there to beg him to stay. But another part is more than grateful that Ned is here now. That if this goes south, at least he’ll have gotten to say goodbye to one of the people he loves.)
He can hear the unshed tears in Ned’s voice as he chokes out, “I know. God, I - I k-know, but - Peter -”
The awful hitch in his breath when Ned says his name forces him to turn. To face the boy he loves more than any other and say to his face, instead of the air, that this is just the way his life works. That this is the way his life will always work, and Ned might as well get used to it because maybe then it’ll hurt less.
If you’re always scared, you eventually stop noticing.
Right?
Peter steps into Ned’s space, close enough to still be heard if he whispered, and moves his hand to clutch Ned’s. “I’ll come back. I will, okay, you know I will. I’ll come back, Ned, I promise.”
The look on his best friend’s face says, How the hell could you know? When he opens his mouth, what comes out is, “Peter Parker, I swear to God, if you die out there, I will fucking kill you.” A surprised laugh tumbles out of Peter. “I know. I’ll be back, Ned, don’t worry about me.” “I always worry about you, Peter.”
Peter squeezes his hand, unsure if he’s trying to comfort Ned or himself. The whole room is silent around them, even the teacher who hasn’t once tried to make him stay (it’s a substitute, Peter almost feels sorry for him), and Peter feels like he and Ned are in their own world, their own little bubble of safety. He has to go.
“I have to go, Ned,” Peter whispers. “I’m sorry, okay? I love you.”
Three words, so many layers.
You’re my best friend, I love you.
You’re my best friend, I’m in love with you.
Somehow, both versions sound the same.
“I - I love you too, Peter.”
Letting go of Ned’s hand is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Peter scans the room, takes in all the small, terrified faces of kids he barely even knows, and then he says, “I need a couple of you to help me move the desk from in front of the door,” because even in a crisis, secret identities have to be kept secret.
The chairs stacked on top of the desk are lifted, the desk is slid back across the room. Peter looks back at Ned once more, tries his damndest to ignore the tears sliding down Ned’s cheeks, and tells him, “Text Mr. Stark. He should be on his way already, just - explain what’s going on. I’ll be fine, alright?” A shaky nod.
Peter turns one last time.
All he can think as his hand touches the doorknob is, I should’ve kissed him. This could be my last chance. I should’ve kissed him.
(Theoretically, these guys don’t want to kill him. Theoretically, they’re just using him to get to Tony Stark. Theoretically, he’ll come out of this at least relatively unscathed.)
(Or maybe they’re here to kill Spider-Man, and he’s heading right to his own death.)
(But no, they said Tony Stark’s intern. Not Spider-Man.)
(Still.)
I should kiss him before I go, he thinks.
And then a hand on his wrist yanks him back around again and Ned is kissing him.
For a split second, Peter automatically stiffens, but then he melts. One hand comes up to cup Ned’s cheek and the other to clutch at Ned’s shirt sleeve, fingers twisting into the fabric like it’s a lifeline.
This isn’t exactly how he’d hoped their first kiss would go. And yet, the press of Ned’s lips, which taste of salt and peanut butter and everything Peter loves, against his is the best thing he’s felt in his life.
Peter thinks he might be okay if this is the last thing he ever feels.
All too soon, Ned pulls away. He says, “I’ll see you soon, Peter,” and the words sound much sweeter than they should.
The panic alert comes in at 2:26 PM, while Tony is in a board meeting.
The first text comes in at 2:32 PM, while Tony is flying toward Midtown High as fast as his suit will let him.
[Ted Leeds, 2:32 PM] theres bad guys at school
[Ted Leeds, 2:32 PM] they took peter. said theyd leave everyone else alone if he went to them
[Ted Leeds, 2:33 PM] they called him your intern and didnt say anything about spiderman so im pretty sure its about you not him
[Ted Leeds, 2:33 PM] they should be in the principals office and he doesnt have his suit or his webshooters hurry please
Tony tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to text Peter’s friend back (I’m five minutes out, kid, don’t worry) and then snaps at her to go fucking faster, goddammit.
Of fucking course Peter would get taken hostage. Of fucking course if would be about him and not Peter. Spider-Man.
It’s typical, really. That someone he cares about is in danger because of him. After all, the people around tend to get hurt, one way or another.
He’d hoped Peter would be left out of it. The kid has enough problems of his own, what with being not only a superhero but also just a damn teenager, and he doesn’t need Tony Stark’s high school intern as another target on his head.
And yet, that’s what he got.
And now he could be…
No.
“FRI, pull up Peter’s vitals,” Tony says breathlessly, chest clenching in nervous anticipation.  
Peter’s vitals pop up on the suit’s interface without a word from F.R.I.D.A.Y.. Tony’s hands shake as he gives it a quick once-over and finds that…
The kid’s fine.
His heart rate is elevated, but overall he’s fine. Afraid, but not panicking. Just goes to show how damn strong he is. Especially seeing as Tony is almost 100% sure that his heart rate is higher than Peter’s right now.
Glancing at the other side of his interface tells him that yes, his heart rate is 10 BPMs higher than Peter’s. Damn.
Tony touches down outside of Midtown High, in the midst of a shit-ton of police and frantic parents, and every set of eyes lands on him.
He ignores it all. Lets his mask retract and turns to the nearest officer.
“I don’t give a shit what the lockdown protocol is,” he says, before anyone else can even speak. Even with his pounding heart and shaking fingers, he musters up every ounce of fuck you, I’m Tony Stark that he possibly can and stares down the officer in front of him. “I don’t care what speech you’re giving all the parents, I don’t give a flying fuck what you’re supposed to tell me. This isn’t a normal school shooting - the fact that I just said normal school shooting is a whole other story. This is targeted. My - my kid is in there, he’s the one these fuckers took hostage, and I’m going to go find him.”
And with that, the mask comes back down and he marches into the school with more determination than he’s ever felt for anything else.
(As he goes, he swears he hears May Parker shout, seemingly through tears, “Find our kid, Tony! You’d better find our damn kid!”
He’ll be damned if he lets May Parker down.)
The tracker leads him through three different hallways, past countless classroom doors behind which he’s sure there’s countless petrified teenagers.
God, teenagers.
He tries so fucking hard, but no matter what he does he always seems to be putting people in harm’s way. Directly or indirectly.
But that doesn’t matter right now. It can’t matter right now.
Nothing matters but Peter.
Peter.
And there he is, in the principal’s office just like Ned said he’d be. Tony hears the kid before he sees him - he can’t make out exactly what’s being said, but he’d bet his whole damn company that it’s some sort of witty joke.
Jesus Christ, kid. Is it really witty if it gets you killed?
The nanotech on his feet retracts to quiet his steps. He moves to stand next to the door, peering through the little square glass window to find his kid.
Peter sits, legs criss-cross underneath him, with zip ties around his wrists and a gun against the side of his head.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The man holding the gun isn’t even looking at Peter (or at the window, thank God). That, plus the zip ties, proves without a doubt that these guys don’t even know who they’re holding hostage. Peter’s fingers tap against his knee, almost compulsively, but other than that, there’s no visible indication of fear. Not in his eyes, not in his expression, not in his posture. That’s okay. Tony’s scared enough for the both of them.
What’s the best way to play this?
If the gun against Peter’s head wasn’t involved, he’d just bust down the door and go in shooting. But as is, if he does that, there’s a possibility that he’ll take down the one with the gun before he can shoot, but there’s a likelier possibility that, either by this guy or by another one that Tony can’t see, Peter will get shot.
Not an option. Peter getting shot in the head on the floor of his high school principal’s office is definitely not an option.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y., scan the room,” Tony whispers. “Check how many heat signatures there are.” A beat, then, “Four, Boss.”
He swears under his breath. That’s Peter and three criminals who, for all he knows, took Peter solely because they knew he’d call for Tony and their only goal is to get them together so they can shoot both of them.
Tony, of course, has a bulletproof suit on.
Peter, on the other hand, despite all the other DNA enhancements, is very much not bulletproof.
He is, however, looking at Tony.
Their eyes lock through the window, and Peter’s face visibly brightens, the corners of his mouth quirking up and the lines in his forehead smoothing out. The fear may not have shown, but the relief does. Along with the blind faith that Peter always seems to have in him.
No matter how much Tony doubts himself, Peter always trusts him.
It’s ridiculous, because Tony has done nothing to earn such unwavering trust. But he’s glad for it, now, because he needs Peter to be as confident in his odds for survival as possible.
The kid mouths something. Tony furrows his brow at him, makes a vague gesture through the window that he hopes says, Repeat.
Peter complies. Tony still doesn’t catch it.
Within seconds, Peter has reevaluated (his kid’s a genius, he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen). He glances down at his hands, then up at Tony, then down again, pointedly.
T-H-R-E-E, he taps out on his knee. Morse Code. A fucking genius.
Tony nods even though he already knows. Peter keeps tapping and the men holding him hostage keep ignoring him.
A-L-L  H-A-V-E  G-U-N-S.
Figures.
R-E-A-D-Y  W-H-E-N  Y-O-U  A-R-E.
You always are, kid, Tony thinks. Then he holds up three fingers in front of the window.
Counts down: Three, two, one.
Peter swings his hands up, smacking the gun out of his captor’s hands just as Tony kicks down the door and aims a repulsor blast at the first bad guy he sees (low energy, because as homicidal as he feels, he’s not trying to murder a man in front of his kid). Tony doesn’t see Peter take down his guy, too busy aiming a punch at the last criminal’s head, but he hears a body hit the floor and grins.
If this were Rhodey, he’d be saying, Too easy. You’d think these guys would try a little harder.
But it’s not. It’s Peter.
As soon as he’s certain that all the bad guys are unconscious, Tony steps out of the armor and pulls Peter into the tightest hug he thinks he’s ever had.
The kid fits into his arms like he was meant to be there. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Stark.”
“Of course. I’ll always come when you call, kid.”
Tony feels Peter’s smile against his collarbone and never wants to feel anything else.
He walks Peter out of the school with an arm around his shoulders once everyone else has been safely evacuated.
The moment they step outside, there’s yelling. He feels Peter wince at his side and squeezes Peter’s shoulder as if to say, it’s okay, I’m right here.
May is the first one to reach them. Peter pulls away from Tony, gently, and lets his aunt fret over him until she’s satisfied that he’s unharmed, then throw her arms around him and hold him as close as she possibly can.
She catches Tony’s eye over Peter’s shoulder and mouths, “Thank you.”
Tony nods, smiles. Feels a level of solidarity with May that he never really thought they’d reach.
Neither of the Parkers break the hug until someone shouts Peter’s name and Peter’s head shoots up. Tony scans the crowd, already knowing exactly who he’s looking for, and then watches as Peter runs to his best friend and practically vaults into his arms.
Ned catches him with ease (Peter’s so fucking light, it’s a goddamn wonder), smile bright and eyes wet.
When they kiss, standing in the middle of the Midtown lot in front of the whole school, Tony shoots a look at May, who just shrugs.
“I saw that one coming,” she says. Moves to join Tony, fingers of her right hand slipping between Tony’s left.
Tony snorts. “Me too. I think they’re the only ones who didn’t.”
May gives a watery laugh and leans her head against Tony’s shoulder. They watch, together, as MJ joins Peter and Ned, hugging them both tight and yet still calling them losers in the same second.
They watch their kid rejoice with his friends, happy about nothing other than just being alive, and it feels like Tony’s come home.
179 notes · View notes
zani-is-a-stan · 5 years
Text
suzani watches the Sherlock unaired pilot
Opening
-       This version of John looks way more old and way more dad
-       That close shot on the gun tell the viewer that John is suicidal
-       The dark silhouette of the cupid statue kind of stands out. Given how the cinematography and shot framing is a lot sloppier in this version, I don’t think this is intentional. But if it was intentional, this would be a signal to the viewer that this is a love story.
-       Mmm, pass on both Anderson’s beard and this way of introducing the concept of a Sherlock
-       This title & credits sequence is so dated
-       Anderson with no inflection is boring
-       Dinner with wine is not a great place for John to be saying he’s broke
We meet Sherlock & Molly
-       We start to see the beginnings of the geometric and precise framing that are the signature of the show in that one shot of Molly behind the glass
-       Its nice to see that Molly’s character required almost no adjustment between the two versions. Given that she was the first character original to the show instead of the books, it’s nice to see that she stuck the landing so perfectly
-       It’s starting to be really obvious how loose the editing is. There’s a lot of dead air at the beginning and end of every shot before each cut. Much better in the final version.
The lab
-       This version of Sherlock seems a lot more accurate to the book Sherlock from Study in Scarlet than the series ultimately ended up being. He’s softer, more interested in interacting with other people than the antisocial, high functioning ASD (where’s the fic that explores that?) twanging brain haver he is in the first episode of season 1
-       I want to read a take on Sherlock that discusses him as having ASD and interprets the violin playing and the mystery solving as his stimming techniques
-       The camera shots in this scene are really starting to stand out as very different from the show. It’s not just the editing which is kind of thoughtless – these shots are poorly composed and poorly planned. I don’t think it would stand out so much if the final version of the show didn’t make so many deliberate and stylized decisions regarding with the shots and editing.
The apartment
-       The extrapolation of john’s family based on the phone became much cleaner in the aired version
-       Comic sans! I mean, mrs Hudson is better than that.
-       Mrs Hudson definitely checked out john’s butt …
-       “can I just ask … what is your street?” this was very good, if repetitive
-       Sherlock needs an assistant? This sherlock has a need for human connection that the other one doesn’t – and he has a lava lamp.
-       Ugh the apartment at 221B baker st looks so much more vintage in this setup. Not a fan.
-       This sherlock definitely cares more about what other people think than the final version.
-       Mrs Hudson is a much softer, premade character in this version. I like the final version better. She seems stronger that way.
The cab ride
-       So boring. Such greenscreen. Wow.
-       not just the greenscreen. the difference in the shooting and finishing of this sequence in the pilot and the aired episode is so incredibly improved that you can hardly believe there were part of the same thing.
-       TOO MUCH SYNTH
-       Sherlock has a far too human response to john’s compliments and more doubt in how accurate his deductions are
The crime scene
-       Im glad they changed sally’s outfit, and smoothed out sherlock’s taunting of her and Anderson’s affair. Ugh I wish they’d kept sally around. This show needed more normie/casual sherlock opponents. Lack of closeups in this scene do it no favors
-       They cut the Rache/Rachel clue. And btw, I do love how this was inverted from the book presentation in the show.
-       “no, there are two women and three men lying dead, keep talking and there will be more” – this sherlock prioritizes people over mystery solving, and that’s a little more humanizing as well.
-       When he’s deconstructing the scene around the woman in pink, there’s a switch in sherlock’s voice when he’s off camera. I’m wondering if maybe that’s a stat actor reading the script for some reason, or if they recorded the dialogue and the camera angles at the same time and forgot to switch when they were editing that shot? Makes sense given how messy the editing is throughout the pilot.
-       “do you know you do that out loud?” “sorry, I’ll shut up” “No, don’t worry, it’s fine” (pleased smile) --- this exchange is so accurate to book Sherlock and Holmes
-       This is not the same sally as the first episode. I had to check because I have a little bit of face blindness and there weren’t any closeups, but it’s definitely not her. Interesting how the actress who ultimately played her changed the inflection but brought very little new to the blocking.
a bit inbetween and the pink case
-       No Mycroft, hmm. Don’t care for it. It added a lot with a really nice red herring feel.
-       John returns to his place for absolutely no reason narratively.
-       I don’t care for the red herring moment where john looks at the pink case and wonders if sally was right and talks out loud about it.
-       The end exchange of this scene is awesome and should have stayed. “Donovan said you get off on this.” “And I said danger and here you are.” “DAMNIT!” It’s very funny, and it’s a fun spar between the two rather than the ultimate resigned tolerance that series John seems to settle into by season 2.
do you have a girlfriend? a boyfriend?
-       Sherlock not eating is a brilliant touch, I think that should have been there.
-       This version of the girlfriend boyfriend conversation is far more successful than the aired version, although I prefer the setting in the aired version. It’s flirtier, and the “Everything else is transport” line carries implications I prefer to the one we saw on on the official version.
-       Sherlock knowing the cab thing ahead of time really lowers the stakes.
-       Angelo and the headless nun thing is fucking beautiful. (although angelo is a bit of an upstager) But, the change in the plot to the John running and leaving the cane behind in the final version is much more relevant to the story.
-       Ok, so the cabbie drugging Sherlock did show us that John is smart in his own right (we never got enough of that), but it showed us Sherlock fucking up in a way that is inconsistent with the show version of that character. For us to buy that Sherlock is other level super genius instead of just very smart, he can’t make this kind of mistake. If he can’t make a mistake, then John can’t prove his own intelligence. I do think it was a good idea to put the police back in his apartment now, as it gives us more interesting and fun things about those characters, and the ultimate build to the cab ride and the incorporation of modern technology really contributed to the modernizing of the adaption.
which pill
-       WHOA that cabbie did just very much threaten to molest or rape Sherlock. Although if there were no women or gay men on the script team, I can totally see the writers not realizing that this line had that connotation.
-       And this version requires a lot more explaining of plotholes with dialogue in a way that is avoided in the final verion. This is unquestionably good, because there’s nothing more graceless in filmed stories than having plot explained with words, especially by a villain.
-       Taking the pills out of the bottle looks silly.
-       Final version cabbie is better. More self-satified and mean.
-       “Either way, you’re wasted as a cabbie” is a way better line in the final.
-       Taking him out of the apartment and away from the police phone call was A+ the right choice.
-       Everyone know the best cops scream “Who is firing, who is firing?” when someone fires a shot.
i’ve got a blanket
-       Sherlock saying “Yeah, maybe he beat me, but he’s dead” is a far shot from the man who shook a dying man and demanded to know if he was right or not. Again, this Sherlock is far more human and far less computer.
-       That bit with mrs Hudson at the end was unnecessarily mean, I’m glad they cut it
-       “I’m his Doctor.” – this lines should have stayed forever.
Overall thoughts
Ok, so overall changes between the pilot and the aired first episode. Plot was a lot more polished. They scrubbed every trace of human need from Sherlock, which I think was a good choice, at least for the beginning of the show. His literal only love is his own abilities as the show airs, which leaves him with a very interesting and exploitable weakness – his arrogance, where as pilot Sherlock doesn’t seem to care all that much when he makes a mistake. We did lose a couple of scenes that had a lot of good chemistry in them, but I think the plot was much improved overall for the changes. The change of Sherlock from being casually mean to people like Anderson to swatting away an irritating fly is very successful. The focus of Sherlock’s relationship with Lestrade seems of a higher priority than Watsons a little bit, so I’m glad that changed. The lead up to John shooting the cabbie was much better in the final
Honestly the pilot doesn’t look like a pilot as much as it looks like a proof of concept piece. The budget was obviously smaller: that’s why they reused the same restaurant set, it’s why the final confrontation took place in the apartment rather than a second location, that’s why the effects are missing or budgety, that’s why the editing was low-end. This as a pilot was sold on the impact of the actors and the bones of the script, not on any of the look that would ultimately make the show what it was. The color work between the first and second version of this alone was amazing.   I also think that the hair change in Sherlock was an excellent choice. It offsets BC’s face/head structure in a way that plays into the strangeness of the character in a much better way. Similarly, the coat and scarf that he wears in the series do exist in the pilot, but aren’t really a signature of Sherlock’s on-screen shape design in the same way.
I think the only thing I would’ve kept is the inflection, delivery & read on the girlfriend boyfriend scene, and the return of the “I said danger and here you are” exchange.
There’s a lot of talk about Sherlock’s sexuality and what was cannon in the books. TV Sherlock they seem to be confused about (Belgravia as an episode left me really confused about what statement the writers were trying to make there, which implies that they’re either not completely sure either, or they’re too straight to understand what they’re doing). In the books, Holmes chooses not to have romantic relationship because it stops his brain from working clearly – it’s a deliberate choice based on the Victorian concept of sex (and women, because they are clearly only sex objects) diminishing the capacity for clear thought and mental performance. This is not the same as him being asexual or aromantic as we not aro/ace people understand the concept in 2019.
Based on the scene as it airs, the girlfriend/boyfriend scene would leave me with the opinion that Sherlock is not just asexual but also aromantic. Possibly one of these by choice rather than nature. Based as how the scene plays out in the unaired pilot, I would think that Sherlock is celibate and also attracted to John, more likely gay than bisexual. (There was quite a bit of smoldering going on in the Sherlock to John direction.)
12 notes · View notes
theepitomeofamess · 6 years
Text
Weak Heart
Quick Note: So this is from a post I made a while back and it’s my first attempt at a song fic (dunno for sure if that’s what it’s called or if it qualifies but whatever)
But anyway the song is Weak Heart by Ed Prosek and it’s so damn Logince (or at least Logan) I couldn’t help myself so here ya go here’s some kinda angsty (i guess??) Logince content...
The air was still when we first met
And she held my gaze, and I held my breath with all my might
It felt like hours, or maybe days
But when I close my eyes, I see her face
I see her face, yeah
Logan remembered the first time he’d seen this happen. The first time Roman came back from a quest bloodied and bruised and barely alive. It was one of the first times he’d properly met Roman, and now it felt like they were going through the same motions all over again. The same air that went stagnant when he returned to his room from the far corners of the mindscape, the same eyes that were both wide and incredibly heavy-lidded, the same slumped shoulders and shallow breathing that caused Logan to hold his, the same halt of time that made minutes seem like hours and hours seem like days. Logan hadn’t understood then why Roman’s horrified and bloodstained face haunted his nightmares, why his smirk and bright eyes were there every time he blinked. Part of him still wished he didn’t understand.
And it made me ill, to look away
And it hurts me still, cus there's so much more I'd like to say
But I lose my nerve, when it comes to giving you the love
That you deserve, so take my weak heart
Oh take my weak heart
And tie it to yours
Roman and Logan had started dating months before this, Logan had seen his fair share of Roman’s more bloody results from battle, but none of them had been this bad. Patton and Virgil had attempted to pull him away from Roman’s bedside, but it was no use. His hands were clasped firmly around one of Roman’s and he wasn’t about to move. Patton and Virgil left him to sit with Roman, not sure if they wanted to know what he was thinking.
Clutching Roman’s hand in his own, Logan felt a welling in his chest. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there and he didn’t care. He had no idea how many drinks he’d refused from Patton or how many meal announcements he’d ignored. Running his fingers through Roman’s hair, watching his too relaxed, too pale face sleep too soundly, Logan’s heart lurched. Roman had never been down for this long, not completely unconscious like this. It had been a particularly bad battle, he knew that. He also knew in his mind that Roman was going to pull through. He always did.
His heart, though… his heart isn’t as strong as his mind. His heart whispers promises of loss, of Roman not waking up, of Logan never getting the chance to get up the nerve to tell Roman what he’d told Logan so many times before.
So if I fall, I fall for her
And she don't know
That I think she's beautiful, cus I always choke
And the right words come out all wrong
But I swear I love you, Im sorry it took so long
To tell you, to tell you this
“I love you,” Roman would say, so casually and yet with so much bravado and meaning. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky. I love you more than you love Crofter’s. I love you more than all of Disney combined. I love every inch of you, every hair on your head, every word that comes out of your mouth…”
It had taken so long for Logan to give up on telling Roman to shut up when he started going off on tangents like this. It was taking even longer for him to get up the courage to return the compliments. Maybe not as flamboyantly, but Logan wanted to return them nonetheless. He wanted to tell Roman how much he loved him. Every time he tried to say it, though, it came out as something like “have you eaten yet” or “how did you sleep?” Any time he tried to tell Roman he was beautiful he’d say something vague and stupid like “did you do something different with your hair,” or “that medicated chapstick I got you seems to be working.” Roman would usually laugh, a bit nervously if Logan interpreted the tone right, and just pull Logan close.
And they're only words, they mean so much
And i'm always scared, that i'll make things worse
If all it takes, is letting go
When you are sure of everything, just let me know
Take my weak heart
And tie it to yours
Months. Months it had been since they started calling each other theirs. Months it had been since Roman started waxing poetic more than usual and Logan started tripping over his words. Roman always insisted that the words weren’t the important part, but Logan knew better. He only knew how to express himself in words, and if he couldn’t express himself accurately then surely he was making the situation worse. He spent his days wondering when Roman would realize that he was too good for Logan, that he needed someone who could express his feelings freely, someone with a stronger heart, someone who didn’t try to gain strength through him.
With a whisper that that day might never come, that he might be left wondering forever because Roman might be leaving him for good, Logan felt himself collapse from the inside out. Finally releasing his pride for once, Logan tightened his grip on Roman’s hand. In that moment, he couldn’t quite tell if he was Roman’s lifeline, keeping him tied to the world where they were together, or if Roman was his.
So if I fall, I fall for her
And she don't know
That I think she's beautiful, cus I always choke
And the right words come out all wrong
But I swear I love you, I’m sorry it took so long
To tell you, oh, to tell you this
A wave of exhaustion swept over Logan, the question of exactly how long he’d been sitting there watching over Roman slithering into his mind. Logan kept his eyes on Roman’s sleeping figure as he leaned forward.
“I love you,” Logan finally whispered through his tear-tightened throat. “I’m so- so sorry that I never said it before. I’m sorry it took this long, but it’s the truth. I need you, I love you, I love you so much.” Leaning forward, Logan planted a kiss on Roman’s forehead. “I love you, please don’t leave me. Please…” Resting his head on the mattress, still gripping Roman’s hand, Logan felt himself slipping into sleep.
He told himself it was the exhaustion, but he could have sworn he felt Roman’s hand squeeze his in return.
When Logan woke, he found that he’d been pulled onto the bed and was being held from behind by Roman. His glasses had been removed and set on the nightstand. The squishy softness of Roman’s bedding was a familiar sensation to him at this point, though still foreign compared to the stiff structure of his own mattress. Looking at the nightstand next to his glasses, Logan squinted to read the numbers on the digital alarm clock. 5:15 in the morning. The sun would be rising soon. Roman being Roman would usually want to rise with the sun and sing with the first birds to greet the morning. Reminding himself that Roman probably wouldn’t be doing those things that got Logan caught between the rock of anti-morning disgust and the hard place of adoring every moment he got to hear Roman’s beautiful voice, Logan huffed a sigh of disappointment.
“Good morning.” The gravelly response to his sigh just about made Logan jump out of his skin, his reflexes flipping him around to face Roman’s groggy smile. Logan thought his heart might burst as he snaked his arms around Roman’s waist, careful of the wounds that kept him bedridden. Roman’s groggy chuckle as he tightened his grip around Logan again sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering against the walls of Logan’s stomach. Feeling warmth radiating off Roman’s skin, Logan felt safe.
“How are you feeling?” Logan’s mind reeled, instincts taking over as his feelings choked on more comfortable phrases. “Any pain? Should I get you some medicine? Maybe a glass of water? Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten in-”
“Lo.” The nickname came out a little too gently, Roman’s voice still gravelly from exhaustion. Logan allowed himself to be silent as Roman tightened his grip around Logan, silently requesting that they stay there. “I love you, too.” Logan smiled at the familiar phrase, relaxing into Roman’s embrace.
The almost familiar phrase.
I love you, too.
Logan’s eyes snapped wide open, his body tensing.
“Before you ask,” Roman beat him to the punch, “I heard what you said. It’s okay that you don’t usually use the words directly, that you circle around it, I get it. I get what you mean. Gotta admit, though, it was nice to hear those words in that order coming from you.”
Not knowing what else to do, Logan buried himself closer into Roman, holding his prince close and silently swearing to get up the courage to say those words more often. Roman pressed a kiss on the top of Logan’s head, and they knew they’d be staying like that as often as they could while Roman was bedridden.
20 notes · View notes
pinpep · 7 years
Text
An unexpected talk
"Hey guys. It's been awhile. Times are tough. It seems like the world and my life are on the brink, and ive never been so torn. I wonder if it was as easy as you two made it seem. I almost gave up. Sometimes I still want to. I'm trying. I miss you. I'll be brave."
The trees around her felt as empty as ever. The graves, as graves always were, remained silent, but the air a short distance behind her was another matter entirely.
“Oh, wee lamb. Th'easier it looks, th'arder it was. Forged in fire, hey?”
The voice surprised her, knowing she was supposed to be secluded out here, but the young gnome calmed herself, certainly a well-meaning passerby judging by how the tone had no malice whatsoever.  She turned her head around to greet the stranger.
Seated on the grass next to a large oak stump, a woman bearing the not-quite-sharp, not-quite-round features of a middle-aged mother sips carefully from a steaming teacup. Her hair is dark and held up off her neck by a kerchief across her forehead, and her clothing is simple, but fine. The light-colored dress seemed a bit dirty, but it was hard to be sure since she, cup and all, was a softly-shimmering translucent green. “Don’t mind me, luv.”
Calmly adjusting to the fact that a spirit had decided to reveal itself, the gnome can’t help but smile at the ‘luv’, it gave away where the woman was from, anyway, and it did make her think of Leon, almost an uncanny feeling, really. “Oh, it’s no trouble, i’m not far away enough from town to expect privacy.” Adjusting her seating, she turning to face the woman.  "I enjoy coming out here to talk to my parents, pretty place. You on a walk?“
When she chuckled, the slight reverb was much easier to pick up, but it didn’t make her sound particularly alien, rather giving her voice a more songlike quality as she set her cup down. "I do like t'wander in my free time these days. It is a lovely little spot you’ve found for yourself. My apologies for intruding on you, by th’ by. Couldn’t quite 'elp myself. It sounded so …mm, familiar.” Pin gave her a smile. Spirits, though she had rarely encountered them, were rarely malevolent, and in truth she found this one to be pleasant enough that she didn’t want to cause her any discomfort.  "Familiar? I suppose everyone has their troubles.“
"Very much so. First thin’ y'learn that’s worth learnin’ once married, luv; nobody’s marriage is without stumbles. Th’ longer they go, th’ more there are, o’ course, but that’s just probability, innit?”
“Personally, I talked t'my pillows about it.”
She chuckled, “I like to air this stuff out there, or at my training dummy if i’m mad enough.” a brief pause, followed by a deep breath, “There have been ups and downs, but this was the first time I thought I was making it worse. Still feel it.” “Well, in a way, you’re right, luv.” She set her cup down, drawing a second one out of nothing and pouring from a homey little teapot that hadn’t been on the stump before. It certainly smelled nice, lots of bergamot, a little orange. “We’re all responsible for our own lives, aren’t we? So if it’s not goin’ th'way we want it, that’s always a little bit on us. Not quite s'much as we’d gen'rally like, I think, but still.”
It was not a great feeling, to hear those words, but she had a kind way of saying it that put that initial panic to bed, and… well, she was right. “True…. true.  Guess I just let it get to me, though, tried to get away from it, saying it was for the greater good. Guess i’m still a bit of a greenhorn with this love thing.”
“Tch, you are ev'ry ounce his li'l girl, aren’t you? Ideas an’ words bigger'n than you a dozen times over for ev'ry li'l success an’ hiccup.” She gave a silvery laugh as she pressed the teacup into Pin’s hands, feeling solid and smelling heavenly.
“You’ll only ever be a greenhorn, luv. Life never runs short o’ surprises, least of all in love. Dwellin’ in th’ valleys makes climbin’ t'th’ peaks take all that much longer, though.”
The words took a little while to sink in, all of them, and the young gnome held the ghostly teacup in her hands, looking into the woman’s eyes for awhile, her brain catching up with the implications. She took a deep breath… “You… you knew dad?” her voice cracked a bit.
My but meeting that gaze was a familiar sensation, green shimmer or not. Pin looked into eyes like those almost every night. Come to think of it, her smile turned up just a little higher on the same side as Leon’s, too. “I’d be surprised if 'alf o’ creation didn’t know that man by now, luv. 'E’s got personality enough t'man a warship on 'is own.”
Almost by instinct, Pin lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip of the ethereal, but… very real liquid, best tea she’d ever had, really. It was the only thing keeping her from tearing up. Dad… he was… around. She knew it, of course, proof of spirits and all that, just… to -know-. And as the gnome met her gaze once again… she knew. “You…. you’re Bettany, aren’t you?”
Almost bashfully, she nodded her head and picked up her cup in a half-toast. “Sorry for th’ theatrics, luv. I 'ave t’ find my fun where I can.”
Trying to regain a bit of sanity via levity, Pin gave her a bit of a wry smile, “Well, I suppose i’ve no room to judge on theatricality. I came back from the dead in golden armor.” giving herself a few halfhearted chuckles, she met Bettany’s eyes again. “I…don’t know why or how but… I… really wanted to meet you. Leon really thought the world of you.”
Another loud, full-bodied laugh for the armor comment really hammered home the truth of her identity. “And oh 'ow your poppa glowed fit t’ match when y'did, too! If not fer all th’ bloody nebulous rules of it, 'e’d 'ave already come t'you, luv, and don’t think for a moment that 'e wouldn’t.” Her smile faded just a touch at the edges at the mention of her son, sad but resigned. “'E still does, luv. An’ just like yours, I’ll come to 'im when I can. An’ when it won’t crush 'im further.”
There were the tears. She managed to ward of the outpouring of emotion with a few deep breaths, but it was good to hear… that he saw, that he knew. “I… i’ll do my best to help get him there. I’ve been scared… but he seems to be doing better.”
“It’s very 'ard not to once there’s so much less t'fret over. From what we could see, your time on that side o’ thin’s wasn’t quite th'same.” She waved one hand in an absent sort of swat, and she sipped from her tea again. “'They’ve never been anythin’ less'n’ ecstatic t'see you go, luv. ”
“I do wish 'e 'adn’t gotten t'talkin’ with Graeme fer a while, though.” A long-suffering, but not quite actually upset, sigh. “Thank th’ gods they can’t get themselves killed again, that’s all I’ll say.”
The thought of that scenario made the gnome smile, “I actually was referring to your son, Ma'am, but it is good to know all the same.”
“You’ll pardon me sayin’ so I 'ope, but I’d assumed y'would without needin’ said. I’ll admit I never knew what 'e needed was you, but it’s clear as day now.”
Her cheeks darken a bit as she takes the compliment, she briefly looks down before meeting her gaze again. “Thanks. You raised a wonderful man, Bettany. Heck, two of them, though the other one does have a smart mouth sometimes.”
“Terry never did quite like 'ow much like 'is poppa 'e wound up, but if 'e did, 'e wouldn’t be much like 'is poppa at all. Leon… I’m glad 'e came away from th’ man 'e was becomin’ just after.”
Pin takes another sip of her tea, only to find it just about finished. “Me too. He got me to believe in myself again. Got me to love myself as well as him.” “Always th’ nurturin’ type, that boy.” She set her teacup on the stump where, after a moment, it faded off into nothing. “I think y’ deserve each other, an’ yes, that can be interpreted any number o’ ways, not all of 'em kind. I’ll leave it up t'you t'decide which one I mean just now, hm?”
She nods slowly, “Something to think about, at least. I… anything you want me to say?”
For the first time, Bettany stopped smiling, looking thoughtfully off into the trees around them. “… a great many. But they’d all be selfish. It wouldn’t 'elp Leon any t'hear from me th’ way 'e is now.” It wasn’t something that made her happy to say, but she’d resolved to accept it.
“I’ll ask y’t'keep this chat between us for now, on that note, please.”
“Yes’m.” Pin couldn’t help but go with Leon’s choice of words there.
A knowing smirk followed that familiar utterance. “At least not till I’ve gotten t'ave words with th'other girl.”
At that, Pin smiled, “i’m glad you are, Kae’s a bit lost, and you’re pretty good at this.”
She lifted her chin in mock imperiousness and sniffed once. “I raised one boy through puberty and another almost as far, all th’ while keepin’ their great dafty of a father out o'trouble. I should very well hope so.”
“You certainly lived up to the talk, ma'am.”
With a soft chuckle, Bettany gave pin’s nose a short tap. If she blinks, she’ll simply be gone by the time Pin opens her eyes again. If not, she’ll see the form of Leon’s mother softly pop into a million little green sparkles and whisk off with the breeze.
A faintly amused voice lingers just a few moments longer. “Don’t be a kiss-ass, darlin’.”
Pin can’t help but laugh, cogs, she could tell why Leon was a momma’s boy.
8 notes · View notes
nearcromancy · 7 years
Text
43 notes · View notes
whydidgodcreate · 7 years
Note
💘
💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding 
(I put my own interpretation on ‘heart pounding’. If you wanted a romantic memory, sorry.)
Finn curled up into a ball on his bed, blood soaking throughthe white linens. He could hear his parents mumbled voiced in the other room. Tearsfell from his cheeks onto the pillow as the scene flashed before him in his mind’seye.
Where are we going? He recalledhimself asking. There was 4 of them, all local boys from town. His motherwasn’t particularly fond of locals and the feeling was mutual. There was a lotof distrust of his family and a part of him greatly resented his parents forit. In his youthful naiveté, it was hard for him to reconcile his own identityin his family and his need for the social approval of his peers. There was agreat divide between his family and the rest of town that he didn’t quiteunderstand aside from how it impeded his ability to make friends. So, when hewas invited on a midnight outing by a group of kids around his age, he didn’tbother mentioning it to his parents.
The oldest of theboys, a kid named Jacob, trailed behind Finn a few feet. He seemed to be theself-appointed leader of their little group and no one bothered challengingthat notion. He had told Finn they would be going to a nearby pond that actedas a popular swimming hole for the community. On hot summer nights, daring kidswould jump into the dark water to cool down.
Here is good. Jacobnodded to his friends. It was hard to see but Finn could faintly make out asmirk on his lips. Finn had never really had friends before and any hesitancehe had about the night was overshadowed by his desire to make some. Still, hecould tell something was wrong as the group conspicuously gave each otherknowing glances.
Two of the other boysset their lanterns on the ground and spread out, all of them glaring at Finn expectantly.There was a worrisome look in their eyes. They felt very strong and confident,feeding like parasites off Finn’s increasing discomfort.
I-I changed my mind. I wanna go home. Finn whimpered, unsure of what was happening. A couple of the boys hadstarted to get closer, cornering Finn by the edge of the pond. His minddesperately searched for a way out of the situation but they had him surrounded,out-numbered, and out strengthed.
Jacob bent down topick up a couple good sized rocks. He toyed with them in his hands beforechucking one at Finn. The cambion could feel his little heart break as hishopes for the night crumbled before him.Get in the water! Jacob laughed as he threw another
Look at ‘im! Another boyhowled. He’s scared! Let me try!
Finn backed up as faras he could go, even walking into the pond just to get further from the boys. Butthey kept advancing and the ground beneath him was getting more slippery witheach step.
My pa says it’s your family’s fault the crops won’t grow. Jacob yelled. The other boys had begun tocollect their own piles of stones and pebbles. He says your mom’s a witch. So what’s that make you? Huh?
Finn cowered as astone hit the water beside him. It was too dark to see them coming but he couldhear the ones that missed and feel the ones that didn’t.  Please just let me go. Finn begged. He wipedhis tears on his sleeve. If he backed up any further, he would risk falling intothe water completely.
Are you a witch too? Arock flew past him, making a loud *thump* in the water. Pa says there’s only one way to handle a witch.
I’m not! Finn cried. I swear!
Then prove it. Jacobgrabbed a rock the size of his fist. With unbelievable aim, he hurled thestone, hitting Finn in the head. Finn heard a crack, feeling the warm sensationof blood rained on his head before hitting the water behind him and blackingout.
When he came to, hewas laying on the ground, dripping wet. His head was throbbing from the gash onhis scalp. The lanterns had all be blown out and he could barely see a few feetin front of him but he was alive and grateful. Getting up, he carefully took afew steps but quickly tumbled over something beside him. The moonlight wasdimmed by a cloudy sky and all he could do was feel the grass around him. Itwas drenched and sticky. There was a putrid smell in the air with flies buzzingall about.
His heart started torace as he tried his best to find a path to the road. The ground was coated ina slime. As he moved his hands, patting the ground, he struck something coldand soft. It wasn’t a body. At least not all of a body.
A panic came over himand instinct took over. He shut his eyes, refusing to look at the shapes beforehim as he kicked his way through the fleshy debris and ran as far as his legswould take him.
He heard the door creep open as his father walked in theroom. The shock of what had happened had not yet worn off and Finn couldn’tbring himself to look anyone in the eye just yet but he distinctly heard hisfather sigh.
“You and your mother need to leave before morning.” Hisvoice was surprisingly gentle. “Before they notice those boys are gone.” Finnlaid so his back was facing the marquis. He could hear his father as he walkedcloser to the bed.
Andras briefly placed a hand on his son’s head.
“You did well, Finn. I’m proud of you.”
��7�C
1 note · View note