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raisinghellonstarbug · 3 years

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Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

#james acaster #james acaster fanfic #james acaster x reader #james acaster x you #original female character #original male character #original story #off menu #eventual romance #slow burn

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moonlit-han · 4 years

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stray kids’ reactions to you taking medication for depression & anxiety ↠ all members

genre: reaction word count: 2.4k warnings: discussion of depression and anxiety, description of panic/anxiety attack, swearing request: yes

a/n: hi anon! wow, this one turned highly personal really fast. so, this turned into a combination of your original request and how stray kids would react just knowing that you have depression/anxiety. i think how they’d care for and support you is a large part of their reactions to finding out, if that makes sense. i hope this brings you comfort~

✧ masterlist in bio ✧

bang chan

as with most things, chan would be very understanding

he’d just want you to feel and function the best you could

and not have to worry about whether you’re going to be able to make it through a day

he’d noticed when you first started dating that you occasionally withdrew into yourself

and needed time alone

chan didn’t really think anything of it

bc he also kinda just turns into a hermit and hides to reset and recuperate

but when you’d told him that you take meds for anxiety and depression

his sneaking suspicion that you’d been struggling with something was confirmed

it all made sense!

chan would be immediately and absolutely on board to support you

he wasn’t gonna let those nasty depression demons get the better of his y/n

no! fucking!! way!!! ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

when you could stand it, he’d be really cute and cuddly to try to make you feel better

and he’d also research everything about the meds

on the days that you just needed to be left alone, he’d be worried

bc he wouldn’t want you to be lonely or to need him and for him to not be there immediately for you

but sometimes even just the presence of another person is exhausting

even if it’s your partner

he’d always come back with flowers or your favorite kind of pie or curry or something else delicious or beautiful

all he wants is for you to feel like you can face the world

bc he’ll always be there by your side (♡‿♡)

lee minho

minho would be matter of fact and accepting about the whole thing

he wouldn’t be fussed

and would just accept that sometimes you’d be less than cheerful

and that it has nothing to do with him or his actions

while he wouldn’t necessarily understand the ins and outs of depression and/or anxiety,

he would still be totally committed to supporting you

he’d be glad that you have meds

because it’s hard for him to see you so down and feeling so blank

he just wants you to be okay

he’ll ask if you’re okay and what he can do

sometimes he just has to ask you a few times

just to be sure

for his own peace of mind

if any family, friends, coworkers, anyone gave you shit about your depression and anxiety

minho would be the kind of person to just:

Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿) “hold my flower”and prepare to fight the world for you

alkjfhakjfdhkj

minho would always make sure that you have your meds on time

either going to pick them up from the pharmacy for you

or reminding you to get them yourself

he’d also remind you to take the meds on your especially bad days

when you can’t exactly think or do much else

while he jokes that cats are the best medicine for anything

minho knows and agrees that medication for mental illness and such is important

bc it helps you be able to function

but that doesn’t stop him from trying his best to make you feel energized and focused through other means!

you have a weekly picnic date, even after dating for two years

it’s the sweetest thing ever

and definitely helps (≧◡≦)

seo changbin

it was the first time you slept over at his place

(a really lovely evening with lots of sweet cuddling ｡ﾟ(ﾟ∩´﹏`∩ﾟ)ﾟ｡ )

(((oh no now i’m soft HHHH)))

and you’d left your bag sitting out in the living room

changbin had thought it would be nice if he got your things for you in the morning

and he also wanted to make you breakfast (✿◠‿◠)

so he'd gone to pick up your bag and saw the little pill bottle

and was just “oh, okay~”

when he'd come into the bedroom, changbin looked a little nervous?

bc he wasn’t quite sure how to ask you what meds you were taking

he wasn’t really worried or anything

he just wanted to support you with absolutely no judgement because meds aren’t a bad thing~

he was so understanding and immediately, like chan, researched everything he could about helping someone with anxiety and depression

and then made you breakfast bc that’s wonderful anytime at all

on the days you felt like you couldn’t get out of bed

(or simply couldn’t whether you wanted to or not)

changbin would be there

if you could stay in bed the whole day, then he’d stay with you

if you had to get up and actually do things, he’d do his best to help you

he’d make you food, help you shower, even pick out clothes for you so that you wouldn’t have to think

he’d understand that sometimes you need a bit of a prod to do things

changbin would definitely try his best to make those reminders as caring and lighthearted as possible

after all, you don’t exactly have control over when lack of motivation strikes

changbin would understand and know a lot of the feelings you have

and be able to empathize based on his own experiences

really, he would just continue to love you ♡

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin, oh sweet hyunjin

he’d be so understanding

and would feel really sorry for you

but not in a weird, pitying way

just sad that your brain had decided to betray you in such a way

*insert all the empathy here*

he knows all too well the feelings of hopelessness you sometimes feel

he’d be glad that you have meds, actually

and would even remind you when you have therapy (if you do)

he’d probably send you random “when you have anxiety/depression” memes

you’ve busted out laughing at inopportune times more than once from said memes

when you’re in a depressive episode, hyunjin would be like a cat

just curled up with you as much as possible

if you can’t stand to have someone near you

then, he’d still text you cheesy stuff like those ridiculous valentine’s day pickup lines that are, in fact, funny at any time of the year

oh and don’t forget about the utterly sincere, will-make-you-cry texts, love letters, post-it notes, notes written in blueberries on the counter, and even signs he’d write for you

one day, you’d even opened a lunch he’d made you to find a little note rolled up around your fork:

“hi hello yes you, the pretty one reading this! i love youuuuuu~ have a wonderful day, darling

p.s. remember to take your meds <3”

hyunjin’s gentle nature would be just what you needed

to support you

to love you

to care for you, not only emotionally but also physically

he’d be like a sheltering tree for you

grounded and calm with deep roots, but able to bend with whatever wind your depression/anxiety decided to gust through your lives

han jisung

jisung would…

well, jisung would just:

“AAAAAY, ANXIETY BUDDIES!!” (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ;;;;;;

ajkdfhaljkfghaljf

definitely not the response you’d been expecting

but it was perfect nonetheless

you spent an afternoon together just talking about how your anxiety and depression manifested

what helped you to cope

what helped him to cope

which meds you took and if there was anything jisung should be particularly aware of

he’d be really interested in just how your depression and anxiety manifest

bc in order to care for you and help

he wants to know what bit of your brain chemistry has decided to fuck shit up

(sometimes jisung feels like he needs to fuck shit up, too. but really? come oooon y/n’s brain)

he’d leave you notes reminding you to do things when your ability to focus goes completely out the window

you’d wake up to find one of those large sheets of poster paper taped to the ceiling above your bed, saying:

“i love you, even if you have depression/anxiety that makes you forget to do the dishes. again. you’re still my little gremlin <3”

jisung would give you any and all resources he has to help you

he’d probably even write songs for you

there’d probably a mixtape out there somewhere of him screaming at your depression and anxiety

telling them to leave you the fuck alone

bc you’re too wonderful to have to deal with that shit

your weekends together would be spent in the bedroom

under the covers

giggling your asses off

and cuddling

bc it’s dangerous outside the blanket ( ｀^´ )

lee felix

felix would be so chill about it

you’d tell him and he’d just be like

“okay! so what kinds of toppings did you want me to put on this pizza again?”

you’d just kinda blink at him

you’d been worrying about what he’d say

and if he’d leave you or something

(thanks, irrational brain. love you. NOT! ffs)

as if lee felix would ever leave you,,,,,,

it was a relief not to worry about that

felix would still bundle you up in the biggest hugs ever

and smile his sunshine-filled smile at you

honestly, that alone should be enough to cure depression

but, unfortunately, it’s not

((*shakes fist at depression/anxiety*))

but with felix’s smile and meds, you’re feeling much better, thank you

felix would try to make life brighter for you after finding out

he’d understand that sometimes you want to do things but just can’t

there’s no rhyme nor reason to it

and it wouldn’t matter to him

bc he’d still get to spend time with you, even if it just meant sitting on the couch watching movies

felix would know that sometimes he would just have to make decisions for you

not in a controlling way

but just because your anxiety over making decisions and following through with things would get the better of you

he’d make sure you drink water and eat lots of yummy food

his deep voice is the most calming thing oh my god

and whenever you have an anxiety/panic attack

felix would immediately catch you up in his arms and slow dance with you through the entire episode

even if you’re barely able to stand, he’d hold you up and support you

just so, at an incredibly scary time, you’d have the most loving arms around you

kim seungmin

you were having a panic attack when seungmin came over one time

and you’d just kinda slumped against the wall as soon as he’d come in the door

aaaand you’d had to explain what was going on

but seungmin had just helped you breathe deeply

and eventually you’d calmed down to the point that you felt like

well, like a limp noodle (＠_＠)

you know that feeling when your body is so exhausted from having a panic attack

that you can’t exactly do much else?

yeah. that.

so, he would be glad that you have meds for your depression/anxiety

like jisung, seungmin would want to have A Stern Conversation with your depression/anxiety

bc he’s tired of its shit ψ(｀-´ )ψ

not because he can’t deal with it or you

because he hates to see you in so much distress

also,,,,,,

no one should have to feel like there’s no joy left in the world, irrational thinking rules their brain, and like they’re trapped in a cycle of dysfunction, no matter how hard they try

bc sometimes just trying isn’t enough

and seungmin understands that~

sometimes you just need a little outside help

he’d come up with all sorts of things he could do for you to help ease your anxiety

he’d write down all your triggers just so he’d know what avoid

or what to tell other people to avoid alkdfjhakljdfh

bc we all know seungmin is that person (-_-;)・・・

when he found out that you have trouble deciding on food at restaurants

he’d immediately printed out the menus to all the restaurants you loved

just so you could take your time deciding at home

and not feel overwhelmed

aksjfhlskfjdh what a good bean

seungmin is just a sweetie who wants the best for you, really

plus, when you’re feeling better….

the two of you can go on adventures!! (⌒▽⌒)

yang jeongin

jeongin would be a little baffled that someone’s brain could be that cruel to them

“you mean you sometimes just can’t be happy?”

“yep, or function, really. sometimes moving or getting out of bed or eating just isn’t a thing”

‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

“don’t worry about. i’m on meds for it so it’s not as bad”

(◕︵◕);;;;

“jeongin i promise it’s okay…..”

“HHHHHHHHHH”

you just ended up cuddling him and explaining how depression and anxiety worked

(or rather, how fucking annoying and, even, debilitating they are)

that made him happier bc he understood

he’d try to help you do things that help with the depression

like going for walks

or drinking enough water

definitely regulating your sleep

jeongin: “i know, i know, y/n! it’s hard but you haaaave to wake up”

y/n: “mmph” (￢_￢)

jeongin: *lightly swats you with a pillow* “get! up!!”

y/n: *grumpgrumpgrump*

nights are even harder alkjhsjkslkfjhs

jeongin, on the phone: “no you’re not being a night owl tonight. no! y/n~~~~ come on, i’m tired and wanna go to sleep”

y/n: “but i’m not tired!! i’m just gonna play one more round of this and then go to bed. i promise!”

jeongin, not having any of your shit: “uhuh….”

y/n, *sweats*: “i promiiiiiiiiise”

…………………

3 am

jeongin, via email: “this is an automated reminder to G O T O S L E E P”

y/n: “shit.”

he’d want to be there to listen to you whenever you needed him

even though he doesn’t have much experience with this sort of thing

jeongin would do his best as a kind and properly aware person

like everyone else, he just wants you to be okay

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bssaz97 · 3 years

Note

Based on our previous chat, Ruby meets male!Blake for the first time.

@darksaiyangoku, here you go buddy. I hope you enjoy! ^^

Ruby petal-burst into her room, she had narrowly escaped the gauntlet that was the new “Arc Twins” of Beacon. She needed sound advice, someone who had experience in these types of ordeals, and luckily for Ruby her advisor was here, taking her afternoon nap in her bunk.

Salvation!

Ruby: Blake! You gotta help me! There’s two Jaune’s *breathes* and one of them is a girl, *breathes* like a really pretty girl, *breathes* and now there’s two of them that are all over me, so I ran away and nowIdontknowwhattodosopleasepleaseplease! *breathes* Help me! 😭

*groans* “Could you keep it down... trying to sleep.”

Ruby immediately froze in place, realizing quickly that the person in bed did not sound like her teammate. Actually, no, it did sound like something her teammate would say, the issue being that it was coming from someone else she hasn’t heard from before.

Her wide silver eyes slowly look downwards, where she is now able to look more closely at the person in her teammates bed.

Upon closer examination this person did happen to look a lot like Blake, if she were a boy, even had cat ears. Which is probably why she didn’t notice before that this wasn’t her teammate sleeping. She wasn’t being racist, she swears!

She drifts her gaze across this male’s sleeping form, he was rather tall, more so than her friend. He had a lean form, but could tell even with a blanket cover that those muscles were toned, close to how Ren was, she would say.

Ruby’s gaze begins her way back towards this boy’s face, where she sees amber eyes staring amusedly back at her.

???: You finished?

OH NO! SHE’D BEEN CAUGHT STARING! ABORT! ABORT!

Ruby: A-Ah, Hi! Hello there! I was just looking for my teammate, but I guess I went in the wrong room! Hahaha! I’ll just be on my way-!

To her surprise though, the stranger began to laugh melodically, very reminiscent of how Blake laughs.

???: Ruby, you’re fine I’m not mad.

Ruby: H-How do you know my name?

The boy raised one of his eye brows quizzically, surprised his leader had not figured it out yet.

???: Really Ruby, I’m in our dorm room, which I wouldn’t be able to enter lest I had the scroll clearance. I’m in my bed specially and I’m talking to you like I’ve known you for months.

Ruby: ...Blake?

M!Blake: Yup.

Ruby: B-But how? I thought Jaune was the only one who had a twin. I mean, you were there for the initial testing of the experimental dust but you weren’t hit by any of it.... right?

The Faunus adverts his gaze away.

Ruby: Blake!

M!Blake: Don’t worry, I’m completely fine. Turns out the same thing happens to you no matter how much of the “splicing dust” you take or get on you. Granted it happened much quicker for Jaune while for me it took a bit longer. My sister is currently out to get us something for me to eat while I took the liberty of taking the first nap.

Ruby: This is all so confusing. Now my teammate has a twin, what am I gonna do…

M!Blake: You seem pretty stressed, wanna take a seat? *moves a bit to make a spot for the reaper*

Ruby: Mmhm.

Ruby sat down on Blake’s bed, then let out a sigh.

M!Blake: So you needed advice right? About Jaune and Joan, right?

Ruby: I’m just so confused.

M!Blake: Not sure how to proceed?

Ruby: *nods* I-It’s just… They give me so much attention, like I’m the holy grail at the end of a quest. Jaune is so forward now, Joan even more so, but they're so sincere about it too and I’ve never gotten this much attention directed at me before so now I’m-! I just got overwhelmed I guess. *sad Rose noises*

The Male faunus had his eyes closed, holding his chin in his dominant hand with a pondering expression for a few moments before a thought hit him.

M!Blake: Hm… I think I know what your problem is.

Ruby: That I’m a dork who can’t handle a bit of forward teasing?

M!Blake: *uncrosses his arms* Not that. I think what you’re through is easier to understand. You, Ruby Rose, are coming to terms of being a sub.

Ruby: ...Huh?!

Out of all the things she thought would come from Blake’s mouth, well her twin’s mouth, she did not think that would be one of them.

M!Blake: For all your life you’ve always wanted to be a huntress, a symbol of strength and dominance over the Grimm to many. You’re so used to being the “hero” that when someone else comes in to sweep you off your feet, you’re overwhelmed and shaking like a school girl who just got confessed to.

Ruby: That is what happened Blake!

M!Blake: So you’re agreeing with me?

Ruby: No! Well yes but- Grrr! You’re making me confused!

M!Blake: *laughs* Yep, you’re definitely got it bad.Sorry to say it, but behind closed doors, you’re the sub.

Ruby: Nooo!~ That’s so uncool!

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it’s the truth. But don’t take it as a bad thing. That just means if you decide to accept their offer, they’ll do anything to please you.

Ruby: Eh? They will?

M!Blake: Yep. Anything you want.

The Faunus leans over and places her neatly folded cloak on the desk, the reaper having been so flustered that she didn’t even recall him taking it off her.

M!Blake: Take, for example, pampering.

Ruby: Pampering? But I’m not a baby!

M!Blake: Well not like that… unless you’re into that? *gives a side glance*

Ruby: *frowned* Blake.

M!Blake: Right. What I mean is like, indulge in your wants.

Ruby: *blinks* My wants?

M!Blake: Yeah, like say, if they started to spend more time with you, taking you to the weapon store and that arcade we saw one time in Vale you wanted to go.

Ruby: That… sounds good.

M!Blake: What if they started giving you extra strawberries for lunch because they know you love to eat them.

Ruby: *gasps!* That would be the best.

M!Blake: Bow what if they offered to give you a shoulder massage?

Ruby: Shoulder massage? Why would I wa-aaah...

Whatever words Ruby was about to utter we’re cut off as she felt two hands, his hands, began to slowly massage her shoulders.

While a part of her brain thought that she should have shoved him away, another part did not feel any harm in his movements or his facial features. What struck out to Ruby the most were his amber eyes, in those irises she found no ill will or hidden agendas. Instead she found someone that she could trust, like his counterpart and her teammate.

So Ruby relented, decided not to shove him off, and let Blake continue.

M!Blake: How are we doing?

Ruby: I-It feels ok. I could definitely see myself enjoying this. I-If Jaune or Joan made an offer to do this!

M!Blake: Mm, that’s good to know. You actually seem to be enjoying this, mind if I go a bit further?

Ruby: S-Sure.

Blake gets up momentarily, much to her dismay, but then motions for Ruby to lie down on the bed, which she did without a second thought, after all this was only a massage from a friend.

Ruby laid belly down on the bed and kindly accepted the offer of her teammate’s pillow for head support. She feels the bed shift as her faunus friend’s male counterpart gets back on the bed to kneel above her back and returns to his massaging, much to her delight.

M!Blake: Are you enjoying yourself?

The red reaper hummed in approval.

M!Blake: Excellent, try to relax a bit, I’m going to try something a bit different now.

Ruby wasn’t sure what exactly he meant but her train of thought left her when suddenly she registered feeling something sharp just poking on her back.

Unknownst to her, Blake’s counterpart possessed an ability his sister did not, he could extend his nails to the point that they became claws.

M!Blake: Ok Ruby, you ready?

Ruby: I-Is this safe?

M!Blake: You remember we have Aura, right? I couldn’t hurt you even if I had the intention to do it with these.

Ruby: Oh, right. *nervously laughs*

M!Blake: It’s ok Ruby, you’re in safe hands.

Ruby: Thank gods Yang wasn’t here to hear that.

M!Blake: Starting. Now just relax.

Ruby breathes in, relaxing her back as best as she could and-

Ruby: ‘Oh my goooooooooods!~’

Ruby started to hum sensually as the faunus started to slowly and carefully scratch her back. He wasn’t too rough but it was certainly a satisfying experience. She felt she could get lost in this moment for hours.

M!Blake: I take it I’m doing a good job? *smirking slightly*

Ruby: Mmmm!~

M!Blake: I’ll take that as a yes.

The two continued on like this for a few minutes, that was until the male Blake’s ears heard the sound of shuffling outside the door.

*click!*

Out from the door came the original Blake, a tray of tuna rolls and books in each hand, but almost fell from her grip as she saw the sight before her.

That being of her make twin and her team leader being under her.

F!Blake: What are you doing?!

M!Blake: Oh hello sister, I forgot you were coming back. Thanks for getting us food, and books! How thoughtful. Can you set both down on the desk, please? I’ll get to them in a bit.

F!Blake: FORGET THE TUNA! What are you doing to Ruby?!

M!Blake: ...Giving her a massage, isn’t it obvious?

F!Blake: *breathes* Did she consent?

M!Blake: Course. *blinks* ...Hold on. Did you think-?

F!Blake: *groans* I don’t know. From my point of view, it would have looked like anything. You’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Yang!

M!Blake: *he frowns* You know as well as I do that we’d never take advantage of Ruby in such a way.

F!Blake: I know! I know… Sorry for jumping to conclusions. What are you now anyway?

M!Blake: Giving her legs a massage. She’s really sensitive there, apparently.

Ruby: *pleased mumbles* M-More…

F!Blake: I-I see. Well Jaune and Joan have been asking me if ups had seen her around anywhere so you better wrap this up before we have a major misunderstanding.

M!Blake: Fair. Although you seem upset about something else though.

F!Blake: I have no idea what you mean. *her eyes looked away from him*

M!Blake: No, something is definitely bothering you. I can tell.

His gaze followed to where his sister was staring and he soon realized that she had her eyes locked onto the person that was underneath him.

A lightbulb flicked on.

M!Blake: *smirks* Wow, I wasn’t aware we were capable of jealousy.~

F!Blake: Who said I was jealous?

M!Blake: Oh please, it’s written all over your face. Why are you basically lying to yourself?

F!Blake: …..

M!Blake: Oh I get it. You’re disappointed she let me give her a massage instead of you.

F!Blake: You can’t read my mind…

M!Blake: Like I need to, you and I share a similar mindset.

The male Blake ceases his massage, then gently pats Ruby’s shoulder to grab her attention. Which he had already since he stopped her flow of euphoria.

Ruby: *whimper* W-Why’d you stop?

M!Blake: Sorry Ruby, but it seems like we’re switching for now.

Ruby: Eh..?

He carefully steps off the bed, once he’s off he looked at his sister expectantly.

M!Blake: Well? Gonna keep her waiting?

F!Blake: W-Wait, huh?

Ruby: Blake... I don’t want my massage to be over yet!~

Blake couldn’t believe what she was hearing, her team leader and brother were expecting her to… the former a massage. Her hands rubbing her peers’ skin and muscles, like a masseuse. Her face and brain were heating up as it was taking a bit of time to process.

Ruby: Blaaaake!~ Please…! I want more!

F!Blake: …. ‘Fuck it.’

Without another word, she got on her bed, sat in a kneel over the young reaper waiting for her massage to continue.

She looked at her hands for a brief moment before taking a breath, steeling herself as she took the dive.

Ruby: Mmm!~

F!Blake: ‘Yeah, this is definitely worth it.’ -///-

#rwby #ruby rose #blake belladonna #rule 63 #ask me #anonymous asks #darksaiyangoku #rwby ladybug #rwby lancaster

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natewrightt · 4 years

Note

Hello, could you write a fluff Five x reader where they got married in secret while in the 60s and the siblings realize after seeing the couple being cute together and they think it's adorable how in love Five is ?

Please, love ur blog 😊💖

Summary: Five Hargreeves enjoyed the sixties a lot more then he originally thought he would.

Ship: Five Hargreeves x criminal!reader

Warnings: none

Note: I added so many details because I love this concept LMAO. also I don’t know how I would be able to make them married because he’s in a 13 year old body??? but yeah I tried djddoidjkijsds 💖

“Hey, stop right there!” the cashier of Manny’s Groceries shouted, grabbing everybody’s attention.

But she didn’t stop.

She turned around and flipped the worker off, then ran faster out of the scene and she completely disappeared by the time the police had arrived. And besides, they didn’t have much to go by. The girl was wearing a large hoodie with leggings and converse. It was pointless.

That girl was none other then Y/N L/N, a 13 year old ‘criminal’ who lived on the main floor of an apartment building without anyone knowing. However, mentally, she was 60. A long time ago, her body was frozen by her parents because the girl suffered from a sickness that didn’t have a cure. Just recently she was unfrozen and given the cure, but her parents had died and now she’s all alone, stealing from stores just to survive.

Y/N arrived in the apartment building and practically collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. Looking through the bag, she was relieved to find her favorite item: waffles. She would eat those delicious things if they were stepped on by the worlds dirtiest pair of boots. The starving girl stuffed about 3 in her mouth, being sure to swallow it down with a water bottle she had found on the ground outside. It wasn’t the best life to live, but it certainly wasn’t the worst.

She gazed at the clock on the wall. Shit! Y/N was going to be late. Getting up and running towards Elliot Gussman’s door, she was surprised to see that it was open. That paranoid man always locked his door.

You could say that Y/N was Elliot’s friend, or you could say that she was really interested in his crazy theories he makes up. Either way, it’s still fun.

“Elliot?” she called, holding the box of waffles like it was a weapon. The ruffling noise in the room had got quiet, and Y/N gulped. “Hey, if it’s not a good time, then-”

Suddenly, a boy that appeared her age was in front of her in a flash of blue. She was so taken aback that she fell over. However, she caught herself and the boy furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly impressed.

“Do you know Elliot?” He asked, weary of her every move. She scoffed, deciding to be sarcastic towards him.

“No, I just happened to walk into the room calling Elliot. Elliot as in my dead cat. Have you seen him, by the way? He’s ab-”

He covered her mouth with his hand, rolling his eyes. Y/N was prepared though, and quickly bit down causing the boy to scream curses, letting go. She ran to Elliot.

“You okay? What happened? Did he hurt you?” She asks frantically, checking for injuries. Y/N would never let the only person who treated her with respect get hurt.

“No, It’s fine. We’re fine.” He responds in a panicked voice. Too panicked. She looks back at the boy who’s smirking at her.

“Yeah. Let the adults talk, okay princess?”

The 3 of them sat in Elliot’s living room. He was explaining his theories to the boy (named Five, out of all the names to exist) and he was very interested in the theories Elliot was talking about, except he actually believed them. One them being how the man saw people come out of ‘black holes’ in the exact same spot at different time periods. He was SO interested, in fact, that he offered to look for them.

That made Y/N suspicious.

Very suspicious.

After some very serious research (stalking) she had come to a conclusion that Five Hargreeves was from 2019 and he accidentally teleported his family to different parts of 1963 and were now determind to get back to their original home. It intruiged her a lot if she was being completly honest. Luckily, Elliot had eventually made a little room for her to stay in and Five was often there. So, her and Elliot were officially “part of the gang” as some people would put it.

After some time, Five and her got along REALLY well. They were both incredibly smart (and both mentally the same age but that was past the point) and had the same hobbies and interests. It wasn’t long before a relationship had started.

Well, it wasn’t labeled. And they certainly weren’t friends. Friends don’t share secret kisses and hold hands under the table.

And they thought that they could keep it secret.

And for awhile, they did.

Luther and Diego entered the house to find a dead Elliot on a chair. They were both very saddened by this, but it quickly turned into concern when the two of them couldn’t find Y/N anywhere.

She was always with him.

So you can only imagine the panicked state Five was in when he came in.

“What do you MEAN you don’t know where she is?!” He seethed, looking around. “How is she not with him? She’s ALWAYS with him!”

“Five, I’m sure we’ll find her-”

“Your reassurance is useless. I’LL find her, not you imbeciles. Now do us all a favor and stay here and...behave please. I’ll be back whenever.” And with that being said he teleported away.

In honesty, Five wasn’t that worried. He knew exactly where she was. It was a hiding spot she would go to whenever she felt sad or nervous. He went there immediatley to find her in the fetal position in the corner, crying and covered with Elliot’s blood.

“Y/N?” He asked weakly. She looked at him.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Her voice broke. Five couldn’t bare to do anything but nod sadly, looking away.

“It’s my fault.” She muttered, barely audible for him to hear. “I...I watched them, Five. I watched 3 guys beat the absolute shit out of him...I did nothing. I just ran! Like an idiot! He would be alive if I had just been there! Bu-”

Then Five did something that she (and he) never thought he would do.

He wrapped his arms around her torso and hugged her.

For the most part, Five wasn’t an affectionate person. The only thing he would allow were small touches on the hand if he was scared (which wasn’t often) and pecks on the lips if he was really feeling it.

It took her by surprise, but she melted into it, letting tears fall into his shoulder. He let her go when he noticed that her breathing was finally back to normal.

“You okay?” He asked softly again, wiping the remaining tears off of her face with the pad of his thumbs. She sniffed and nodded, making him smile.

“Not that this isn’t adorable...which, it is, but Five? We gotta go!” Diego’s voice was heard in front of them. They both gasped, turning to him with red faces.

“What are YOU doing here?!” he seethed, helping Y/N up. He chuckled before holding out a tracking device that showed Five’s location.

“Just in case you decided to turn against us at some point, I had this.” He explained, a smirk planted on his face.

“Whatever, let’s go.” Five mumbled, walking out of the room, his face still a nice shade of red. However, Diego turned to the girl.

“Sorry about Elliot.” He ruffled her hair before exiting.

GUYS I KNOW THIS IS TRASH AND HER BACKSTORY DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE BUT BARE WITH ME HERE IM RUNNING ON 1 HOUR OF SLEEP AND CAFFEINE HFJKIUJHNDKIUJSK

#tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x y #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x y/n #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeve x reader

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mobagehelllocal · 4 years

Text

“wendy?” “hello peter pan”

A/N: Hi everyone! I did say I was working on a personal piece, and I’m excited to finally share it with you! This features all seven dorm leaders (Im in awe that you voted for all of them together...). I don’t really want to say anything else. I want this piece to speak for itself.

Warning(?): angst, character death

Please enjoy! Er... or enjoy as much you can with it being angst.

One of the last things you had done together was visit a magical photo booth. It had drawn your curiosity because it allowed the person--with magic or not--to take a photo, and change the background to anything the person had seen before.

The way your expression grew tender as you saw it work its magic was a sight he’d never forget. When you had eagerly shown him the photo, he asked you what location you had chosen.

“It’s my favourite place.” you had said with such tenderness, it caught his breath. “I’d love to take you there sometime... if possible.”

“At least with this photo, I have proof...” you had clutched it to your heart, ‘that you were real. that this isn’t a dream’ went unsaid. He wanted to reach out to you--to comfort you, but then you had laughed. Nothing could keep you down for too long.

“Now enough with the sad stuff, let’s take another photo! Show me something from your homeland! Please?”

When you had left Twisted Wonderland, he had assumed you had taken the photo as a memento of your time together.

He was wrong.

You had left it with him.

You hadn’t given it to him per se. He had found it slipped amongst his belongings that you had originally borrowed.

For sure, you had left behind this photo for a reason.

As a way for him to find you again.

Though you both stood front and center in the photo, the background was incredibly detailed. It proved how important it must’ve been to you--that you were able to see it so clearly and create such a vivid image.

It should be enough.

It had to be enough so that he could--

‘I will find you’

He blinked rapidly as he felt his eyes burn, and he felt something slip out the corner of his eyes, and dripped down his cheek.

His fist clenched, before he flinched and frantically smoothened the photo as he gazed at your beautiful smiling visage.

“I will find you,” he swore to your photo. “And I’ll tell you how much I...”

He paused, unable to say it.

Still unable to say it despite--

And he cursed that he never had the strength to tell you how much he--

As the world pulled into focus, Riddle found himself standing in front of a sweets shop... The same sweets shop in the photo you had given him. He glanced down at the photo, and raised his hand to compare the image with the front of the store. He couldn’t stop the triumphant hum that escaped him when he reconfirmed what he already knew: the image and the place before him was identical.

He had succeeded in coming to your world.

“Bring the Prefect back, okay?” Ace had scowled. Behind him, Trey hid a smile, Deuce teared up and Cater was once--not on his phone.

“I will.” He said, with the same determination that had let him confront his mother--the same determination you had given to him.

Now he just had to find you.

He turned his head from side to side. Where would he begin? He was stunned--your world seemed so much bigger. He wondered, was this how you felt when you first came to Twisted Wonderland? Before he could spend any time reminiscing that faithful ceremony, he heard a familiar voice.

“Thanks Grandma Sayo! I’ll see you later!” his head quickly looked back to the shop, and he easily spotted your figure. You had your head turned down as you ruffled through your bag, and he instinctively called out.

“--[Name]?” Your head snapped upright at that, and that recognition in your actions made him draw closer. His heart pounded, he had been spent so many months waiting to see you--to stroke your hair, to look into your eyes, to finally declare his love for you--and perhaps... ask you to return to Twisted Wonderland with him.

Yet the elation fades when he takes a closer look at you.

It’s not you.

It’s the same figure--the same feeling--but the hair is a shade lighter, and the eyes don’t have that same gravity to them. The gravity that pulled him to you. But there’s still recognition there--in those eyes.

This wasn’t you. He didn’t know this person but--

This person knew him.

“You’re Riddle Rosehearts.” There’s awe in the young woman’s voice. “Part of me always assumed... you...didn’t...” she stopped abruptly, and seemed to be taking him in.

“You know me?”

“Of course.” the girl nodded her head rapidly. “She... used to tell us stories about you... and uh... Heartslavul?”

“Heartslabyul.” he corrected instantly, and the girl giggled. Sweet Queen of Hearts--she had your laugh, and something in his chest twisted at that.

“She said you were conscientious but...” The girl stared at him as if she saw a dream come to life.

“Wait,” he spoke slowly, and she tilted her head patiently. “she? Do you mean [Name]?” There’s a look of surprise, then a flash of realization, and sadness. He swallowed uneasily.

“Do you... know where I could...” his voice faltered.

“I’m... off to see her right now. Would you like to come with?” She studied him in a worried fashion, and he was originally offended--it’s not like he was going to hurt anyone but--he realized. She wasn’t worried about what he might do (like you, you had never been wary even when he had--), she was worried for him.

She was so much like you...

And Riddle wasn’t a top student for nothing.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he was clinging to that chance--that possibility--that this girl might be--just a sister or a cousin.

“Alright.” his voice is shaky and the girl shot him another look of concern.

He wished she didn’t.

He wished he couldn’t see how much of you was there in her.

“Grandma.” The girl who introduced herself as Rose--your granddaughter--called out. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Rose carefully placed a strawberry tart in his hands, before she nudged him forward. “It’s--”

“You don’t need to tell me Rose.” the scratchy voice from the big chair said. “I know who it is.” There’s a soft mewl, and a cat with brilliant golden eyes jumped from the side of the chair. “ Feed Ches, won’t you?”

“Sure Grandma.” Rose shot him a smile of encouragement, before she gestured for Ches to follow after her--which the cat did. She shut the door behind her. It’s just Riddle and you in the room now.

There’s a moment of silence as Riddle stared at the back of your chair, stunned. He doesn’t know what to do--he doesn’t know how to react.

“I’ve been waiting a while, young man. Are you really going to make a frail old lady get up?” Your voice was weak, and he’s glad you couldn’t see him because he flinched immediately at how different your voice was.

“Sorry, I’ll...” he took a couple of steps forward, and after a deep breath, he turned to look at you.

Face weathered with age, hair like spun silver--but the brilliance in those eyes (despite how dim they were), and the way you smiled (despite the way your lips trembled)--it was you. It was still you.

In turn you studied him.

He was just as you remembered him in your dreams. Vivid red hair, startlingly gray eyes--normally sharp--now soft, sad. His skin is pale, and smooth. Still so very small, and young. He hadn’t changed a bit.

To him, it had only been months.

For you, it has been years.

He doesn’t know why, but he started to cry.

“Why are you crying, child?” you croaked out softly as you raised a hand to reach for him. He slowly knelt down, and when he felt the way your fingers carded through his hair--his heavy breathing turned into ugly sobs. You had never been the type to respond with such gentleness--not like this anyways. Back then--when he had gotten extremely emotional to the point his face would turn red--you would desperately distract him with jokes. Now, all you could do was brush his hair.

You had grown up. You had married. You had a child. You have grandchildren.

He felt left behind.

For some reason, he felt alone.

He had yet to graduate. He had barely started his life...

and here you were--at the eve of yours.

He--- ‘no, we’ he corrected himself, ‘we could’ve had so... much...’

“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry--I was too late.” he sobbed, against your skirts. He felt your hand lower, and you pressed your wrinkled fingers against his cheek.

“Oh no... no no.” you frowned. “You... aren’t late...”

“Hush... You are right on time...” You brush away the tears spilling out of his eyes as he looked up at you. Your smile trembled, you looked like you wanted to cry too--but you weren’t. His heart tightened at that. What had he missed in your life that you--who felt and expressed all your emotions so vividly--now felt like you had to restrain yourself? He felt like such a child, crying before you like this.

“Come look...Riddle...” he unsteadily got to his feet to look in the direction you pointed. There were roses--brilliant white, and vivid red in the backyard. The sun was setting right beyond the hedges. It was a familiar sight.

Your last tea party with Heartslabyul had started at sunset--your favourite time of the day--and it had lasted all evening--with no one wanting it to end.

“Beautiful... isn’t it?” you whispered, “I wanted to see this... sight... one more time.” He looked down at you, to see the way your eyes fluttered shut. “I wanted to eat... strawberry tarts with you... right here...”

“[Name], I--” he swallowed, “I love you.”

Because Riddle does love you, and he will continue to love you. He had always planned on loving you until you were old and gray. Perhaps he hadn’t planned on it being like this--but the way his heart beats in your presence is enough for him to know: He will love you--until he too is old and gray. How could he not?

You exhaled very deeply, and you met his gaze with a steadiness he’s never seen in your eyes before. ‘Another thing he missed out on.’

“And I love you, Riddle.” you said gently, your eyes glimmered with the depth of your love. “Stay with me?”

“I will.” Riddle’s shoulders shook as he reached to lace one of his hands with your own.

Your hands were frail and wrinkled--his was soft but still strong. He wanted so much to hold your hand as tight as he possibly could, but he worried about how much that might hurt you.

“Thank you.”

As the sun disappeared beyond the hedge, he heard you murmur one last thing.

“Riddle... let’s meet... at the rose garden... again... please?”

“Of course.” he choked out. “This time... I won’t let you go.” But your hand is limp in his, and he knows you’ve gone somewhere he can’t follow. The hand not holding yours clenched and the sweet treat in his palm crumbled.

Riddle cried again, for the time you could have had together.

When Leona breathed in the air of this new world, he instantly caught a whiff of your scent. His ears flickered, he sought out the familiar cadence of your voice, as he tucked the photograph into his pocket. His brow twitched, before he turned to his left, as he let his instincts lead him to the scent with a smirk on his lips.

“Be prepared...” he chuckled in a low tone to himself, already looking forward to your expression of shock, indignation and eventually... perhaps even...

“--let’s have a playdate again. Is next Saturday fine?”

The scent is coming from a woman who stood over what seemed to look like a basket... with a baby inside. She looked scarily like you. She had your hair, and your skin tone. While she did smell like you--she didn’t smell exactly like you.

So, after the woman she had spoken to left the park, she turned around, and immediately met his gaze. She tensed briefly, her grip on the baby basket tightened. She turned away, as she chose to focus on the child, but she looked up at him again as he drew closer.

He stumbled when he caught sight of her eyes.

Deep green.

For a moment he could see--

“Yes?” She smiled falsely, and he went a little breathless at how much it resembled your own. He can just feel the punch that normally comes straight after one of those smiles. “Can I help you, sir?” He hissed softly, before he pulled out the photo in his pocket and showed it to her.

“Do you know where she is?” When her eyes fell on the photo, she instantly paled, before her gaze darted back up to his face.

“You... you’re Leona?”

He quirked a brow at that.

“How do you know me?” She hesitated a moment longer than he’s willing to wait. “Well, herbivore?”

“My... My mother named me after you.”

Leona brought him over to their house.

“She’s been weakening these past few days.” Leona fretted, as she carried little Jackie (her own daughter) in her arms, “the doctor said she doesn’t have much time left... but she’s been holding out...”

They’re standing right outside the door to your bedroom.

“I had a feeling she was waiting for something.” Leona bit her lip the same way you did, and he could barely look at her. “I guess... it was a... someone all along.”

He made to grab the door knob, but he hesitated, and turned to look at the girl--your daughter. She tucked Jackie’s head into her shoulder, and nodded slowly.

“It’s alright, I’ve... I’ve had a moment with her.” She paused, “you should go in. Talk to her.” She purposely turned away, and he took this chance to duck into the room.

You’re sitting up, leaning against pillows, your gaze focused on something distant out the window. Your hair is gray in the light, your skin pale and wrinkled. Once he shut the door, you slowly moved your gaze to look at him and he could see the way your breath hitched at the sight of him.

“You could give... an old woman a heart...attack, looking...handsome as you... are... Leona.” the way you said his name was like a caress, it was filled with so much love, that he could barely breathe. “would you... come closer? Give this... old woman... another chance to... see your eyes?”

He shuffled closer, and after a moment of hesitation, took a seat on the bed, facing you. You raised a trembling hand. Noticing how slow and weak your movement was--he leaned down, allowing your hand to rest on his cheek, before rising to meet your gaze again, making sure to use his own hand to keep yours pressed against his face.

“There... they are.” you whisper very softly. “The eyes I dream... about... I always said... if I could see you again... I’ll spend it... memorizing... the color of... your eyes.” He feels your thumb brush the edge of his eyes, and the tips of his lashes.

“Leona has green eyes.” he murmured softly.

“What can... I say...” your eyes were going distant, your smile was just the slightest curl on your lips. “I have... a type.”

“Lazy men?”

“Ambitious,” she corrected halfheartedly, “with green eyes... Green eyes... must. I always... go back to your...eyes... Leona. I love... your eyes.” she paused, her eyes dimmed even further, tears slipped down her face. “Leona... I love you...” He raised his other hand to gently brush the tears away.

“... I love you too, [Name].” he said so gently, afraid that any louder will shatter this precious moment.

“This is... very good... dream.” you suddenly said, “I don’t... often... dream... of you telling me... you love me.”

And he gritted his teeth at that, cursing himself. If he had been more open with his heart--if he had been more willing to tell you how much you meant to him--how much he actually loved you--

Would you have stayed?

Could he have had all the moments he missed out on--could he have all of that back?

He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you [Name]. I love you.” He whispered fervently, “I... I should’ve told you that long ago.”

“You... should’ve.” because of course, you’d always been blunt with him, hadn’t you? “Leona... should’ve been...yours.”

He exhaled sharply at that.

“I’ve always... thought that... you know?” your hands brush against his lashes once more. “she... should... have... your eyes.” He kept quiet for a moment, before he indulged himself in your daydreams.

“Ruggie would go insane if there were two of me.” he muttered, and you let out a shaky laugh.

“Ruggie...would teach... her better.” you commented instead.

“Does she like sports?”

“Mhm... She’s... taking a break... for Jackie...”

“Jack would’ve taught her to be an upstanding player.”

“Why... do you... think... she... named... her...Jackie...” your breathing slowed, and your eyes were fluttering gently. “You think... Cheka... would... be... a great... uncle..?”

“Better than me.” Your laugh this time was breathless, and in soft puffs.

“Sorry... Leona... Mhm... Sleepy.”

“It’s alright.” he tucks your silvery hair behind an ear. “I’ll let you sleep before me... just this once.” he shut his eyes, but he felt the way your feeble hand pressed against the edge of his closed lids.

“Leo...na...” He opened his eyes, to see your own--the most focused they were since he found you again. “There... we... go...” you murmured so softly, even he had to strain his ears to hear your words. “I want... to fall asleep... seeing... those eyes... please...”

“Of course. Anything for you.”

You go with your eyes heavy lidded, focused on him, with a heartbreaking smile.

When he shuts the door close, Leona is standing right outside. She looked up at him with sad green eyes--and if she noticed how swollen his eyes were, she didn’t say anything.

“So she...” Your daughter bit her lip, and her eyes watered.

He couldn’t help it. He pretended. Just for a minute. If he tilts his head just a little to the left, he’ll see the light hit Leona differently. Her deep green eyes sparkle, brightening them. They could’ve been his eyes.

She could’ve been his daughter.

He imagined that.

All the moments that could’ve been.

You at his side in Afterglow Savanna, and the way the morning sun would’ve warmed your delicate features as you laid in his bed. For once, he would wake up earlier, just to see that peaceful sight. The way you could’ve looked, dressed in the traditional wedding robes of his kingdom--with gold and bright gemstones decorating you as a princess. Your fingers, laced with his own, as he made love to you--giving you physically, what he always had such a hard time saying out loud. You, pregnant with his child. The nights he would spend, ear pressed against your round stomach--probably thanking whatever god there could be out there for rewarding an ungrateful bastard like him, with such bliss. Leona--as he wished she could’ve been--born with his green eyes, and lioness features. The joy you could’ve had, spending time together--lazy under the light of the sun as little Leona played in the gardens of the palace.

Yet, the sun of Afterglow Savanna will never reach you here. You aren’t dressed as the princess you should’ve been. There were no gods to thank--only gods to curse. Leona was fully human, and when the light fades, her eyes will lose the spark that can let him pretend.

His jaw clenched, his nails dug into his palms.

“Leona?” she tilted her head worriedly. He raised a hand, and when she did not flinch, he tucked a loose curl of hair (the color of your own) behind a very human ear. There must’ve been something in his expression, because she reached out, and wrapped him in a tight hug. He inhaled sharply, and he pretended just a little longer.

“Thank you,” Leona croaked into his ears. “for making mom so happy.”

‘Don’t thank me.’ he thought. ‘because I should’ve been able to make her happier.’ He doesn’t speak it out loud, and only holds on tighter.

The universe could give him minutes, couldn’t it? After all, it had already stolen a whole future from him.

When he arrived at the beach in the photo, Azul’s shoulders slackened with relief. He had studied the photo endlessly--so he knew without a doubt that this was the right place. But really, more than that--the ocean, in itself, will always be a place of comfort for him.

It is his home, after all.

‘Well... that was wrong, isn’t it?’ the merman mused to himself, as he spent a few more moments gazing at that thin line--where the sky and sea kissed.

If a home were to be defined as the one place he felt most welcome, the most loved--as himself--then--

‘It would’ve been by your side... My home would be you [Name].’ he thought, ‘and this time for sure--what I failed to tell you then--many months ago--I will tell you now.’

“Only one of us can go?” Floyd had pouted. “That’s sad, right Jade?”

“Yes, Floyd.” Jade nodded gracefully, but he glanced up at Azul from underneath dark lashes. Jade had always been difficult to read, and for once--Azul is able to catch the conflict in his eyes. “But Azul has a personal stake in this too.”

“I will bring her back.” he looked down at the photo, crumpled from the amount of times he opened and folded it back down. “I have to.”

Azul inhaled the salty scent of the sea, which filled him with a sense of strength--one that often escaped him when it mattered most. When he turned around, he is startled by the sight of you. You too had an expression of awe on your face, like you’d never expected to see him.

‘What made you think I’d never try to look for you?’ Azul couldn’t help but yell inwardly, but outside he quickly composed himself.

“There you are [Name].” he said as a familiar smirk crawled up his face. Your face immediately shifted--first awe, then one of incredible misery.

“Are you that unhappy to see me?” he snorted, “for your information--it took a lot out of us to finally prepare the way here and back. Why I oughta make you pay me back for that.”

“I’m...” His eyes narrowed in response.

If there was one voice that haunted him the most at night--it was yours. He knew the timbre of your voice--from when you were happy, when you were angry, when you were sad.

That wasn’t your voice.

“I’m not [Name].” the girl in front of him finally said.

“I can tell. I know her voice,” she flinched at that, “who are you? her sister? or a cousin?”

“That is...” she avoided his gaze briefly, her eyes flickered off for a split second, before she turned back to him. “I’m her daughter.”

Azul’s world crashed down upon him like the unforgivable waves of the ocean, like the unforgivable jeers that plagued him since his childhood. Any strength he thought the ocean gave him, dissipated quickly.

“What?” he exhaled, he felt short of breathe, he felt his eyes sting. “You... you can’t be... we made sure... the spell is perfect--there should be no errors--”

As Azul rapidly began to mutter the spell and the theories around it, the girl attempted to touch him.

“Azul--are you okay?”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” He pulled back violently.

“You have to be lying.” He practically yelled at her--this stranger who wore the face of one of the only people he treasured. “It was perfect! Everything was perfect! Nothing should’ve gone wrong--”

In the next second he finds himself facing to the side, a throbbing pain on his cheek.

“You--”

“Oh shut it!” the girl yelled desperately, “Stop it Azul! We don’t have time for this!”

“What do you mean!?”

“She’s dying!”

He froze in response.

“What?” his eyes burn even more, and he could feel the tears trail down his cheek. “What?”

The girl introduced herself as Ash.

(”I was named after you... your surname.” she had said, cautious of the temperemental merman. “My twin sister on the other hand--she’s named Azul.”)

Then she had explained why she had found him at the beach.

(”When mama began to worsen, she told us she wanted to come here as much as possible. We were hesitant--it’s not very close by... but...” she inhaled, “Anyways... we decided we would try to bring her as often as we can--especially when the doctor told us she didn’t have much time left.”)

Eventually, Ash stopped walking.

(”What made you change your mind?”

“Pardon?”

“You said you were hesitant.” Azul spoke softly, “that you weren’t thinking of bringing her here often...”

“It’s... well, it’s hard to say no when it was one of her last requests before...”

“What... are you not telling me?” Azul managed to say, after he struggled to calm himself down.

“She--mama can’t speak much anymore.”)

“There she is.” Ash pointed out to a girl identical to her own, standing right beside...

You.

You weren’t faced their way, rather you faced the distance--your eyes stared at that same line he was, just minutes ago. Azul, Ash’s twin, quickly caught sight of them. Though she looked at him in the same way Ash did, she managed to pull herself together, and bent her knees to talk to you.

“Mama, he’s here. Just like you told us.”

‘So you had been waiting... of course... but... even after all this time? You never... gave up? On us?’ He felt his eyes throb, and his heart twist. His fingers dug into his palms--and it was only thanks to his gloves that he didn’t start to bleed.

“Ah...zzz...uh..l?”

His heart stuttered to a stop at that.

“Mama can’t speak much anymore.”

“Yes Mama.” The female Azul said, “would you like to see him?”

“Ahz...ul... Ah...zuhl.” He flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder, and when he looked to his side--Ash was staring up at him with a sad expression.

“You should go.” He took a deep breath, and he stepped forward. He and the female Azul switched places. With another deep breath, he knelt down before you, and looked up into your face.

You had lost all the smooth firmness of youth, your skin thinned, with age spots dotting your face. Your hair was pure white, and glowed brilliantly under the setting sun. But your eyes...

“Az...ul...” His jaw clenched as he stared into your eyes--misty as they were, they stared into his own--and acknowledged him. “Azul...” those eyes seemed to say, “Azul welcome home... I’ve been waiting.”

He hissed as he tried to hold back his tears, but he couldn’t. He was always a crybaby after all. A crybaby in his youth, a cry baby in college--and he was still a cry baby. He had yet to grow out of it.

Here he was, unchanged still. He had yet to conquer his youth and adulthood--which he had planned, prayed, hoped--you’d be at his side for. To see him grow into the best version of himself yet.

But now he’s faced with having to let you go--right as he thought he would be bringing you back with him--triumphant.

He reached forward, and pressed a kiss against the thin, veiny back of your hand.

“[Name]... I’m home...” he managed to choke out, “I’m... sorry... it took me so long... I... I’m sorry I kept you... waiting...” Your other hand moved slowly, but you reach up, thumb weakly pressing his tears away. The hand in his own tightened briefly.

“Oh Azul...” your eyes said, “what matters is that you’re home.”

He gritted his teeth in response, his nostrils flared, as the tears began to stream down his face rapidly. He tried to look down, but the feathery press of your hand against his face made him look up again.

“Az...ul...” you whispered, “Az... ul...” your eyes too were sad--and they glistened with tears, tears that dripped down your face. “I... soh...rry... so..so...rry...” you stuttered. There’s a startled gasp from somewhere behind her, but Azul’s heart picked up when he heard your voice from so close--the voice he’d been longing to hear out of his dreams.

It has long since changed--due to age--but it still possessed all your warmth in it. It was still your voice.

‘They said... you couldn’t... but... had you been waiting for this too?’

“You don’t need to... it’s okay...” he tried to say, but you gently shook your head.

“I... made... you... sah..d...” his eyes burned at what you were trying to say, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly. “I... wah..nt... Ahz...ul... hah...p...py...” He struggled to put a smile on his face, but his lips refused to work with him, and he felt his lips twist downward. “Ahz...zu...l... ple...asz..e... be... hah...ppy...”

“Do--doh...n’t...” you brushed your thumb against his wet cheek again. “Let... me... sto...p... you... Chase... your... dreams... prove... ehv...ryone... hwrong...”

“Never.... you were never... I... my dream, you were my dream... I wanted you to see me...” Azul cried into your hands, his tears soaked the blanket over your knees. “I need you... you can’t go. Please... you can’t... I... love you... I love you so much... I--”

He had been so ready for your future together. He was ready for the victories with you and the twins by his side.

Without you--all victories would become hollow.

You not being there--don’t you see that he’s already lost?

Why hadn’t he tried harder to hold onto you?

“Sil...ly... child...” you said, “I... will never... leave you...” your hands slipped off his face easily, and you curl almost all your gnarly fingers--except one--back. “I’ll... be... there...” you pointed at his heart. “because... I... love... you too... Ahl...ways...”

His heart skipped a beat at that--that you loved him--that you held onto such a flame, cupped it in your hands, and protected it all throughout these years.

Through your youth, adulthood--up to your old age. You carried him, deep in your heart, always waiting--always loving--never losing hope or giving up on that love.

That’s why... to honor you... he’ll...

“A...zul...” you mumbled, “I.. can’t... see... you... ah...ny... more...”

“T-tell... twins... I... miss... them... o kay... Ja... Flo...”

He rubbed your hands.

“I will...” Azul whispered. “They... will be sad to...”

“No...proh...mise... you...all... happy... Az-ul...?” your eyes fluttered.

“I promise... [Name].”

“Smi...y... for... me...”

“I am... I am...” he tried for your sake, even if he knew you couldn’t see it.

And you--ever so trustworthy of a villain--your face smoothened out as you closed your eyes for a final time, the last of your tears dripped down your chin. His hands trembled as his hold on your hands let him feel the way your pulse slowed then ultimately stopped. When it did, he let out an anguished scream that he had been holding in. He had wanted to be strong in the face of your last moments.

He remained knelt before you for awhile, before he finally managed to calm down. He got up slowly.

“Even at the end... you were a splendid... and mature woman.” he choked out, before he leant forward and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

‘I will always carry you in my heart... I will always love you [Name].’ he vowed, ‘and I’ll spend all of this life--and the following ones--finding the one where we can share a lifetime together... I swear this.’

When he glanced up, he saw the twins hold each other tight, and his heart throbbed again at what he’d need to explain to the twins... They, who had cared for you as much as he had...

He shakily took a breath, and tipped his hat to your grandchildren. He looked at you one more time, and he savored the serenity on your face.

Then he turned away from you--for the first and last time.

As he returned to Octavinelle’s dorms, Jade and Floyd were awaiting him.

“Azul! Where’s Shrimpy?” Floyd tilted his head, then bent forward to peek over his shoulder. “Did you mess up?” he frowned.

“Floyd.” Jade, ever so sensitive to the mood of the people around him, cautioned his brother--his eyes on Azul’s face. Jade leant forward to peer at the shorter man’s expression. “What happened Azul?”

He looked up, eyes bloodshot and he could only say one thing:

“She went somewhere we can’t follow.”

“Kalim you...” Jamil’s expression betrayed his real feelings--for once. “Prepare yourself?”

“What do you mean, Jamil?” Kalim smiled brilliantly. “What do I need to prepare for?”

“You...” Jamil’s brows furrowed. “I... I don’t wish... to see you get hurt.”

“Hahah! You worry too much, [Name] wouldn’t hurt me.” with that Kalim waved his hand. “I’ll be back Jamil! And [Name] will be with me.”

“...” Jamil stared at the mirror with a conflicted expression, before he lifted his gaze up to the sky. “She won’t hurt you... not intentionally at least.” He finally grimaced.

“Hey! Do you know who this is?”

“Excuse me, have you seen this woman?”

Kalim was a sight to see in the public park he was in. With the brightest grin ever, he walked up to people, asked them his question--and no matter how they would respond, he’d just shrug his shoulder and move on.

That is until his eyes land on--

“[Name]! I finally found you!” he said, joyfully, “Hah, Jamil thought I would get hurt or something--but I’m doing fine--” he paused, as he cocked his head to the side. “Wait... you’re not [Name].”

In turn the girl looked at him up and down.

“No... I’m not.” the girl shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s fine.” his grin faltered briefly, and the girl felt genuinely bad for him. “I guess I’ll just keep looking for her.”

“Uh... well [Name] is a pretty common name.” the girl said awkwardly, “maybe you should mention her surname?”

“Oh, well it’s [Name] [Surname].” at his response, her eyes widened immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“That is... I know... someone with that name.” the girl chewed on her lip, and he’s struck by how identical she looked to you. He shook this off and instead focused on what she was saying.

“Really? You know someone?” Kalim grabbed her by the shoulders, and she yelped in surprise. “Where can I find her?”

“Before that... what’s your name?”

“Me? Oh I’m Kalim Al-Asim.” When her lips trembled at his response.

“Are... are you sure you want to see her?”

“Yes! Of course! I came here to take her back with me to Twisted Wonderland!” The girl shakily exhaled.

“That’s not possible Kalim.”

“What? Why? I have the spell, and I have a magic carpet!”

“My... my grandma is too old to travel.”

Al--as she introduced herself--let him into the house.

“Are you alright, Kalim?” Al shot him a concerned glance, and the longer he stared at her, the more he realized how much of her was you. It was in the concerned glance, the way she bit her lip and furrowed her brow too.

And for some inexplicable reason, he could no longer stare at her without his eyes feeling like they were burning.

He rubbed hastily at his eyes.

‘What is wrong with me?’

“Grandma, you have a guest.”

“Ah?” he heard your voice--hoarser now, and frailer. “Who is it?” Al glanced at him, before she tilted his head.

For some reason, he felt like he needed to brace himself--he took a deep breath, before he stepped through the door way. He blinked at the afternoon light that was streaming into the room, before he finally caught sight of you.

You were sat on a big couch, hair whiter than his, with a face weathered by age. Your wrinkled hands were laced together.

When he met your gaze, he found nothing but patience, and a sense of ‘finally’ in those eyes.

You chuckled gently.

“I’m sorry Kalim. I’m a bit too old to be a princess... and too old to go on adventures now.”

He hadn’t known what to do.

When Al had gently told him that time must’ve moved different between their worlds, he couldn’t believe it.

He had thought it might be some prank.

He didn’t believe in it.

He was ready to laugh it off.

He was ready to laugh with you.

And yet--

His lip wobbled, and as big fat tears slipped down his face--he did his best to smile.

Because you had always told him that his smiles made you happy.

‘And if what Al said was true... that you didn’t have much time left then he--’ Kalim inhaled sharply, trying to bit back his own sobs. ‘then I’ll do my best to give you something to smile about.’

“I think you’re still a princess, [Name].” and he laughed, “I also don’t think you’re too old for an adventure. Nobody is too old for one.”

Your expression warmed at that.

“Your smile is just as I remembered it.”

The dam broke, and he began to cry, as he crumpled straight into you lap.

“[Name]--!” he began to sob.

“Why are you crying, Kalim?”

“I--I’m late” he gasped, as he shook in your lap. “I should’ve... been here faster--I”

“Oh Kalim... it’s not your fault.”

“I wanted to have more adventures with you,” he wept, “I... wanted to show you a whole new world--I wanted to share Scarabia with you--I--” he swallowed, his breath short as he cried.

“Kalim...”

“I... I thought I could smile for you but--” he let out an airy laugh, “but I’m still such a child. Even now... I should be comforting you but--”

“I wanted to become a man you would want to spend your life with.” and you inhaled sharply at that.

“I knew I... I’m not the best.” he said, his hands fisted, “I’m not the smartest, I’m not exactly talented. I get distracted, I need help most of the time but I thought... if I brought you back I--I wanted to become a better person for you. I wanted to be someone you could trust, without a doubt.”

“Oh Kalim... listen to me.” you cupped his cheeks, and raised his head so that you could stare into his red eyes--normally dazzling with happiness, now just sad.

Your heart ache at the thought that this was because of you.

“Listen to me, you were always perfect. I would’ve always said yes.” you brushed your thumb across his cheek to wipe away the tears. “I would always trust you... don’t you remember?”

“I gave you my trust that time on the magic carpet.” you squeezed his other hand in your own. “I will always believe in you Kalim Al-Asim. You are already a great man.”

Then you smiled, and his heart skipped a bit, because against the light of the setting sun--he could imagine you, draped in the light of the Land of Hot Sand.

“Now won’t you smile for me, Kalim?” you murmured softly. “I’ve been waiting so long to see it again.”

With his shoulders trembling violently, he pulled back, and tried to grin--though his lips trembled, and the tears kept flowing--he smiled, for you.

It was the least he could.

“There it is, the smile I’ve been waiting to see.” you smiled in turn, and he had no idea why you thought his smile could give you so much strength--when clearly, yours could light up the world.

“Now... tell this old woman, how is everyone?”

When he goes back to the Scarabia dorm, he’s met by Jamil.

“Kalim. Welcome back.” Jamil’s eyes flickered around quickly. “Where is--?”

“--!”

“I’m sorry Jamil.” Kalim murmured, as he wrapped his arms around the only one he had left. “I know... I know... we aren’t friends... not yet because... but... please... can I pretend just a bit? I... I don’t know what to do.”

Jamil froze for a moment, ‘so I was right... she probably...’ Jamil gritted his teeth, before he reciprocated Kalim’s embrace.

“It’s alright Kalim. Just this once. I’ll let you.”

When Kalim began to cry in earnest, it began to rain in Scarabia.

Jamil only tightened his embrace, as his gaze shifted out the window, to see the rain only intensify as Kalim’s wails began to rise.

In the midst of a crowd of people in the museum, Vil naturally stood out. Impeccable blonde hair in a braided bun, glittering violet eyes, perfect skin, and his long dorm robes--he looked like a living, breathing artwork. Everyone stared, as this beautiful man gracefully crossed the room.

It wasn’t that Vil was unaware to everyone’s staring. In fact, he was more than aware of the number of people looking. It’s just that--

Well he didn’t really care about all of them. He was more interested in finding you, and taking you back with him.

“Ohoh! For Roi du Poison to be so determined...” Rook’s eyes glimmered in interest. “Isn’t this a truly beautiful sight, Epel?”

The young man blinked once before he turned back to Vil.

“You’ll really bring her back?”

“Yes,” Vil’s lips curled, “After all... I shine the best when she’s with me.”

‘So where are you now, sweet potato?’ Vil thought to himself, ‘this is the same location that was on your photo--but you are nowhere to be seen--’

“Excuse me.” a soft, incredibly familiar voice called out. It was a voice that sent Vil’s heartbeat into a craze. He whirled around quickly, “you looked like you were looking for something so--”

It was you--but it wasn’t--your baby hair didn’t curl the same way, your lashes weren’t that short and your lips weren’t that pouted.

“You--you’re not [Name].”

The girl froze mid question.

“How do you know my grandmother?”

Vil’s mouth dried immediately in response.

“What?” he asked, hoarse.

Evie, your granddaughter, hesitated briefly as she stopped in front of a door. Her eyes flickered up to meet his.

They were an ugly color.

To Vil at least.

They weren’t yours, so to him--it could just mean that they might’ve belonged to--

“She should be inside.”

He grabbed the door and was about to push it open when Evie stopped him. He shot a vicious glare at her and she flinched, but after a deep breath, she looked up and met his gaze evenly.

“She... she doesn’t have much time left so....” she then reached forward to open the door, “please...” she paused, unsure what to say, but Vil had already entered the room.

There’s a single figure sitting at a bench in the center of the room.

She was faced away, staring at the biggest picture frame in the room.

“Ah.” Her voice echoed in the wide room. “Vil... I’ve been wondering when you’d get here.”

“Not an if?” he asked, and he felt his face twist into a terrifying expression when he realized his voice trembled.

“No.” He could hear the smile in your voice--and Sweet Queen, it had been far too long since he’d heard that familiar tone... “I always believed you’d be here one day.” Your hand left your cane, and patted the space on the bench next to you.

“Come, sit.”

He crossed the room easily in a few steps, before he finally took the seat next to you. Paying little attention to the surroundings--eyes honed in on you. When you look at him, there’s that breathless little gasp that you always did whenever Vil would meet you for your dates.

It had always made him feel even more beautiful than before.

In fact, you had always made him feel all the more beautiful... all the more loved...

“You’re so beautiful Vil.” you said, with a beautiful smile on your lips.

He blushed.

Of course he did--who didn’t blush when the person you love the most--called you beautiful? Even he--who had long gotten used to the compliments--became much like a teenager gazing at his first love, in your presence.

‘That’s not wrong... you are my first love. You are the only person who has made Vil Schoenheit desperate to be called ‘beautiful.’ No one else’s opinion mattered in the face of your own.’ He thought, ‘do you know the full power you hold over me?’

“I must look like a terribly ugly sight to you.” you suddenly said, and his frown deepened at that.

Without a doubt--you’ve changed.

Your once thick, luscious hair has thinned, and became white, your skin was no longer as firm--and sagged around your jaw.

Your eyes were still the windows of your heart.

And right now, what your heart wanted the most--

‘Silly sweet potato, do you really think I could see you as anything but beautiful?’

“No.”

“Ah?”

“You are beautiful [Name].” Vil raised his hands, his slim fingers light against your brow, cheeks, and chapped lips. “You always will be.” There’s a glitter of surprise in your eyes, and Vil could barely stop himself as he gritted his teeth.

‘All women should be told of their beauty. Who was it, that forgot to remind you of this?’

“You will always be the most beautiful thing to me.” His voice was hoarse, “even now... you are beautiful.” Your eyes watered, and your cheeks flushed.

“Stop it Vil.” your voice shook, “I should be too old to be feeling like this.”

“Oh you foolish sweet potato,” Vil called out that familiar term of endearment, and your eyes met his beautiful lavender gaze. “you outshine everyone else in my eyes, you know? You are the most beautiful existence there is.”

You ducked your head, and he remembered the first time he had called you beautiful.

It had made your cheeks flush pink so prettily, that he resolved to tell you this only in private--so that your flush would be reserved for his sight alone.

There’s a bitterness in his heart, when he thought about the likely chance that this was no longer true--that there must’ve been another person who called you beautiful in this lifetime.

He was both jealous--of the one you shared your life with--and bitter, that it hadn’t been him, who saw you age so beautifully into the woman sitting before him right now.

“You’re just lying to make this old woman feel better.” you accused, gentle, but still disbelieving him.

“Nonsense.” he scoffed, as he took your cold hands into his own. He frowned momentarily at that, as he rubbed the thin skin, feeling the protruded veins across the back of your hand. “I know beauty when I see it [Name], and you aged beautifully. Never doubt that...” he trailed off, and you met his gaze.

“But?”

He inhaled, and exhaled slowly.

“But I wish... I wish I was there.” he confessed, “I wish I grew old with you.”

“You? Vil? Get wrinkles?” you chuckled, “I can’t imagine it.”

“Neither could I.” He said quietly, “but you know what I could?”

“What?” you looked into his eyes, curiously.

“I could dream of a future with you.”

You went still.

“You did?”

“Of course I did. I love you sweet potato--of course I--of course I thought of my future with you in it.”

You slowly turned his hand in your palm, your silver hair fell over your face, and he instinctively reached up a hand to tuck the strand behind your ear.

“Would... would you tell me what else you dreamed of?”

“Of course sweet one.” he leant forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead as he began.

“We would get married after college,” he paused, “and we would’ve been the most beautiful bridegroom pair the whole of Twisted Wonderland would’ve seen.” At this you giggled lightly.

“We would both be insanely successful in our careers too, of course.” he studied your expression. “we would have children.”

“You want children?”

“Of course I did sweet one.” he murmured, “preferably with your eyes, my hair.”

“Not any of my children had my eyes.” you admitted, “but either way, I’d want them to have yours.” and his heart twisted even more violently at that.

“Then we’ll compromise. One can have yours, another could have mine.” he reached forward to press a finger to your lips, “I would’ve wanted them to have your lips though. I liked to dream of that.” He trailed off gently, his hand moved to lift your chin so that you could meet his gaze again.

“If I had the chance of all of that then... growing old would’ve been nothing. It would’ve been worth it--had it been by you.” he smiled mournfully, and you began to tear up at that.

“I... Vil... I dreamed about it too.” you said, as you began to hiccup. “I wanted to be with you too... I... I should’ve stayed... I...” your words become incomprehensible as you sobbed. “I was scared... that someone beautiful like you wouldn’t...”

“Don’t say that sweet one.” he tried to soothe, as he rapidly tried to blink his own tears away. “I should’ve... asked you to stay... I should’ve... told you how much I loved you then... how much I wanted to greet the future with you.”

Suddenly, you slackened against him and against his robes, you say the words that damned him further.

“I... Knowing this I... I’m so relieved... Vil... I... I think I’ve just been waiting... to know that... my dreams could be real.” Your tight hold on him loosened, and it’s his hands against yours that still keep your fingers twined.

“[Name]?”

“I’m... I’m suddenly... so exhausted... I...”

“It’s alright sweet one, I’ll stay with you.”

“Vil... I... I love... you...”

“and I love you, sweet one. Always.”

“...”

“Sweet one?”

“...”

Vil choked, and he let the ugly feeling wash over him, as a wail strangled its way out of his throat and he bawled against your still form.

Mascara, and the remains of his eye shadow smeared down his face, his lipstick ruined from the way he bit his lip.

Yet Vil couldn’t bring himself to care about how he looked--

‘Why would he? There was no one, who would ever speak of his beauty, and make him feel the way you did.’

Standing right outside Idia’s bedroom, Ortho gazed at the shut doors worriedly.

‘He hasn’t come out since...’

It had taken all of his courage to find a way to your world.

It had taken all of his strength not to run away at the sight of the strange world.

So when he had seen a figure so similar to yours, he had attached himself immediately.

“[Name] I--!”

“Let go of me! Who do you think you are? Grabbing someone like that?”

You pulled away, and you looked at him with a mix of confusion and disgust. Around the two of you, people began to mutter, and he paled even further.

He wanted to start crying.

He wanted his bedroom.

He wanted you.

“It’s me... I-idia.” his lips trembled, and your eyes widened in response. “Did you forget me?”

“That’s...” your eyes flickered away briefly. “I’m sorry Idia, but... [Name] isn’t my name.”

“So I-- I grabbed the wrong person?” he gaped, in surprise, this time he really wanted to start crying.

“You,” your expression grew clouded. “you didn’t.”

“Then--what do you mean?”

“I’m not [Name] but... she’s... she’s my mother.”

He stopped thinking.

‘What?’

Idia had been at his project for days.

He was building a robot. Much bigger than Ortho’s. Much more complex too.

“This goes here,” he said frantically, “and this goes here...”

He glanced briefly at the robot’s sleeping expression.

“I’ll wake you up... soon.” he muttered underneath his breath.

The stranger--no, your daughter--had easily defended him as someone she mistook for someone else, and dragged him off. (Just like every time he had felt overwhelmed by crowds of people--and you had rescued him.)

“Come on!”

“Wait-- where are we going?”

“You’re going to see mom--hey!”

He jerked his wrist out of her hands, and stepped away quickly.

“I--” his expression was conflicted. “Why would she want to see someone like me?”

Your daughter huffed in response. (Just like every time you grew exasperated when he got distracted.) (But it’s alright, you would kiss him on the cheek, and cheer him on, and he’d promptly combust and--)

“Why do you think? She’s been waiting for a long time Idia.” and her expression grew clouded, “she doesn’t have much time left, so we need to go.”

‘What?’

“Sorry, sorry” he muttered underneath his breath, as he fixed up the robot’s parts.

“Sorry,” he would apologize, when he thought he was doing something painful to the robot--like adjusting the twist of it’s arm.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” He’d apologize as he attached a piece that should’ve been there earlier, but even Idia wasn’t sure who he was apologizing too.

“[Name]--!”

His lower lip trembled as he sees the way your eyes flickered lightly.

You were too lifeless.

Idia didn’t want to look--he doesn’t want to think about you like this, he doesn’t want to remember you like this.

He wanted to remember the warm care of your hand.

He wanted to remember the genuine kindness that showed through your smile.

He wanted to remember the way your eyes glittered with understanding.

He wanted--

“Idia...” your hands shook as you reach for him, “Idia... don’t cry.”

No--he can’t accept this reality.

He brought the robot to life.

He had inputted all of his memories of you into it.

He had inputted all your traits into it.

He made sure that the hand could warm, so he could hold it the way you held his.

He made sure that it could smile, so that it could give him, another chance to see your smile.

He made sure that its eyes could glitter, the way yours did, when you would meet his gaze from across the room.

Your hand is cold in his, and he exhaled against it--as he tried desperately to warm it back to the way it was--when you held his hand so long ago.

(Yet even cold, he felt how much you care, in the tender way you squeezed his hand--even if weak.)

Your smile lacked it’s strength, and the way your cheeks trembled was telling of how hard you were trying to smile for him.

(Yet even if it wasn’t as brilliant, it was all your kindness--that let you smile at him, even if you were the one suffering)

Your eyes were dim now, you couldn’t see him completely--yet you faced his direction, and you tried to meet his gaze.

(Your eyes are dim--but they’re still so full with that desire of yours to understand him, despite how he always had such a difficult time meeting you halfway)

These were the things--

These were the things that he--

That he truly-

Loved about you.

“Idia” the robot held his hand.

“Idia” the robot smiled at him.

“Idia” the robot met his eyes.

Yet no matter how much he adjusted her specs, her functions--

He could not duplicate the way your hand felt in his. Warm, but full of care.

He could not duplicate the way you would smile at him. Selflessly kind, and so strong.

He could not duplicate the way your eyes glittered when you find him. This robot will never truly understand him.

No one could ever understand him the same way you did.

“[Name]! [Name]!” he howled at the side of your bed, clutching your hand, pretending it was warm, pretending there was still a pulse.

He already had such a difficult time facing the world.

You had pulled him out of his room, and showed him all that it could offer him.

But now that you’re gone--what was the point of acknowledging a world without you?

Malleus arrived long after sun down. He stood in place, as he studied the photo in his hand, before he slowly lifted his gaze to the house right in front of him. You had said to him once that it was your childhood home. It was still the same shape, but things had changed. For starters, it looked much older. The white concrete walls had dulled, into a much more dirty white. The flowers--deep violet flowers with thorns--climbed up the side of the house--farther than it had on the photo he had. There were lights inside the house, and very faint noise.

Malleus carefully folded the photo and tucked it carefully back into his coat, before he held his staff aloft, and used his magic to carefully unlock the gate. It swung, creaking loudly due to the rust it had accumulated over some time. As he stepped into the garden, the door to the house swung open.

He froze momentarily.

The girl held your face, and form. Completely identical, but the way this girl looked at him--it was nothing like the way you had always looked like him.

He doesn’t know how to feel--did you somehow change? Had you forgotten him?

Had he been a dream, that slipped from your memory?

He didn’t want to believe that this was you.

“Is there a reason you’re breaking and entering?” the girl who could not be you said. “Also, why are you dressed like it’s halloween? We don’t have time for this--”

‘This couldn’t be you. She had none of your countenance--your glow.’

“I’m here for [Name].” he interrupted, at which the girl narrowed her eyes in turn.

“What? What do you want with my grandmother? She’s exhausted, and has no time to see cosplaying men--”

“Grand... mother?” Malleus interrupted again, as he felt something cold clench at his heart.

“Yes.” the girl said, her irritation very obvious. “how do you not even know that if you’re looking for her?” His grip tightened on his staff.

“... Malleus... using the mirror to go to her world...” Lilia had hesitated, uncharacteristically solemn. “... you... you ought to prepare your heart for what you might find.”

“What do you mean, Lilia?” Malleus blinked apathetically at the older fae. “My magic will never fail.” The older fae studied him.

“That’s not what I’m afraid of.”

The lights in the home flickered, and the shadows grew around them.

“Let me see her.” he said, softly--and the girl heard the silent threat there, and refused to budge.

“Not until you tell me who you are.” her voice shook--she could sense there was something different about him, something otherworldly. It made her think of the time--when grandmother told her the story of her friend, the dark fae--

“Malleus Draconia.” he said, smoothly, and she paled in response.

The girl--Mal--stepped aside to let Malleus into the living room.

You were seated on a chair... with wheels. Upon their reentry, you hadn’t looked up.

“Who... was it Mal?” Your voice was calm, careful--with none of the bright cheer he used to associate with you. Before the girl could reply, Malleus interjected.

“It’s me.”

You didn’t seem surprised as you turned your head slowly.

“Tsunotaro...” you greeted, your pale lips twitched into a smile, and he inhaled sharply at that familiar nickname that no one would ever dare call him--except you. “Excellent... would you... take this... old woman... for one last... walk?”

And it dawned on Malleus why--the moment he introduced himself--your granddaughter had grown even more hesitant of letting him in. The one thing that really pushed her to let Malleus in was because he wasn’t being subtle about what he was willing to do to see you again and--probably because...

You had been waiting for him.

You were ready to go now.

You must’ve been for awhile.

The one last thing you had been holding out for--has finally arrived. He took a glance at the silent Mal, who frantically covered her expression to hide her watery eyes.

“I’m always willing to go on a walk with you, [Name].” he opted to say, gently.

Mal had directed them out to the backyard, before she hurried back inside the house.

This had left Malleus to push your wheel chair through the small garden. You two stopped right beside a bench, so he could sit beside you. As he turned his head to you--he’s struck by your mortality.

The white of your hair, the sagging of your skin, the age spots and wrinkles that bear the proof of your lengthy life. Once you held yourself upright as you declared yourself his friend. Now you were hunched over, with the galaxies in your eyes fading--leaving only the dark behind you.

Beside you--Malleus confronted the rest of his whole life.

He had always known he would eventually live past you. He wasn’t ready for that...

But he had thought to himself, that he would take a life lived with you at his side--rather than centuries musing on the possibilities.

It’s what truly, steeled himself to come to you now.

Yet he won’t have that.

“What... are you thinking... child?” your lips curled at the irony, and he let out a humorless chuckle.

“I’m still older than you.”

“But I’m... more mature.” you had laughed, and he could glimpse that your spark was still there, muted, but still shining.

“There might be some truth to that.” Malleus said quietly, “your shorter years just make it feel like you’ve experienced things I will never be able to comprehend.”

“Humans... and fae... we are very different.” you told him, and he nodded, graceful--accepting--this was the truth after all.

“Yet... I wanted to be selfish.” you looked up at him, your eyes taking all of him in--from the way his eyelashes tangled briefly with every blink, to the curve of his ears, and shape of his jaw. “I wanted to spend it with you Tsunotaro... of course... such a thing would never be.”

“...” he swallowed unsteadily, “I wanted to be with you too. I wanted to stay by your side... I wanted to see you live out all the days of your life in my kingdom.”

“What a beautiful dream.” You remarked softly. “I would’ve said yes.”

And he shut his eyes at that, because the idea of even dreaming about it--knowing of its impossibility now, was too much--it hurt too much.

Everyone around Malleus had always told him how strong he was.

That there was no spell he could not master, that there was no one who could ever hope to challenge him.

Surrounded by people who so fervently loved him... and feared him for his power--this became a constant truth to his life.

Yet you--no magic, and all mortal--made him realize that none of this was true.

At the end of the day--Malleus was powerless.

Powerless against you.

Powerless when faced with losing you.

He wasn’t prepared to watch a star blink out of existence.

He doesn’t know who he is.

He’s spent his lifetime being defined as an Heir, as a Magician--

You were that stranger who gave definition to the man known as Malleus.

He’s known what the world is like without you in it. He’s scared of being in that world that doesn’t have you in it.

He reached for your hand and laced his strong fingers through your much weaker ones.

“I loved you.” he paused, “no... I do love you. And I will continue to love you.” You looked back at him, and gave him such a heartbreaking smile, that he thought briefly a world without you should just be destroyed...

“I love you too Tsunotaro.... always.”

But the thing is. If the world should be destroyed--

Then that would mean an end to him.

And an end to him would mean--

That he wouldn’t be able to think of your smile anymore.

That he wouldn’t be able to think of the way your eyes glowed.

The way you laughed.

The way you greeted him.

The way you are now--solemn, peaceful, but still full of love.

He’d rather live, and be able to remember you in all your glory--rather than never be able to think of you again in that void of the end.

“Tell me... a story, Malmal.” you murmured. “Like all... those stories... you... once told me...”

“I’ll tell you of a new one.” he said, “of the girl... who thawed the heart of a dragon...”

“Thank you...”

“Human life is so ephemeral.” He murmured after you had gone, “and yet--”

“I love you, Malleus...”

He remembered that night--so many nights ago.

“Who are you?”

The way the stars in the night sky glittered in your eyes, holding a galaxy yet unknown to him. (A galaxy he had wished to explore further--yet will no longer be able to behold). The brilliance of your smile, as you greeted him every night after that. (Without it, the world dimmed and Malleus couldn’t find anything else that mattered--)

“Tsunotaro!”

There was no one--no human, nor fae who moved his heart the way you did. He’s certain no one ever will--not to the same extent as you did, oh so beautiful and incandescent as you were.

“--so beautiful.” When his eyes fall shut, he feels something drip down his cheek--and his hand raised instantly.

“Tears?” he whispered. “I’m crying?” He blinked rapidly, as more tears slipped down his pale cheeks. When he tilted his head back in an attempt to stop his tears, he finds himself staring up at the starry sky.

Unlike in Twisted Wonderland, the stars weren’t as bright. You had once told him how the pollution in the air had caused the stars to dim in this world. You had looked so sad.

His gaze slipped back down to you. You looked like you were sleeping peacefully--but he hated how he can see you pale, he can feel how your body lost it’s warmth.

‘You, light of my life, should never be anything but gloriously bright’ he thought, and he waved his staff once more.

The next night, the television played in the background as Mal stared into the skies with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands.

“This is unheard of,” the scientist on the news channel said. “but last night, stars that were never there suddenly appeared in the sky! It’s a new constellation--”

Mal smiled gently, as she found you there, in the skies, slumbering peacefully.

“--because of the positions of the stars, it seems like a sleeping woman.” the scientist had reported. “we’re planning on naming her--”

“Of course you’d become a star,” Mal whispered, “that’s just like you grandma... bright and shining.”

“Sleeping Beauty.”

#aiwrites #aiscenarios #ai wendy series #female reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst scenarios #twst riddle #twst leona #twst azul #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleus #extra a/n: id really appreciate hearing what you all think!

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ae0nx · 4 years

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FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 19 + 20 RECAP

Hello!! Decided to pair my recap of episode 19 and 20 together since they both kinda flow into each other and explore the same message in different ways through Yuki and Rin. It’s a really nice and interesting flow of story!

Let’s get into it!

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- Ok, let me get my Shigure hatred out of the way cos I really like some of the stuff he says later. But the fact that he even ATTEMPTED to try and joke about him and Rin having a relationship after we just had that really dodgy scene earlier in the season with him and Rin in his office makes me wanna kick him in the teeth. Anyways...

all the scenes that take place on these stairs are always stunning and i just wanted to show some appreciation of that first. ✨

I love this scene between Hatori and Shigure (I love most scenes between them tbh). I’m beginning to understand that Shigure is for sure the type who believes in ‘using the lesser evils to kill the greater evil’. And, I guess my view of Shigure gets a lot more complicated when I see him through that lens...

But, I do secretly love very deep down in my soul when Shigure says stuff like this and kinda acts like a trickster God. I have a weakness for trickster Gods.

- Rin feeling both intensely protective about the kind people in her life vs wanting to push them away is actually very reminiscent of our favourite cat, Kyo! Gave me a lot of reminders of this scene:

That uncomfortableness with vulnerability and kindness runs strong with these zodiac kids. It’s sad.

Everyone eventually folds in to Tohru. God tier? (I’m still working on my Tohru is an empathetic God essay)

Aii-ya...

But again, I appreciate how this thought follows through to a resolution and message of ‘needing people’ at the end of episode 20. I’ll get to that later.

- Every time. I love how these moments of Tohru supporting the zodiac are always highlighted by being in the darkness of the night (or rain) to the brightness of the dawn (or clear skies). Poetic. Tohru is a god.

Shigure’s so on point in this episode. I know he’s essentially ‘seed planting’ but... I... might just give him the title of Best Boi for this episode? Yeah... why not 😅

I. LOVE. KIMI. SOOO MUCH. 😂 Her love for chaos is amazing and I love her! Again! Trickster Gods!!! <3

I CAN’T. Kakeru bickering with Yuki like a scorned lover. Haru essentially being happy for Yuki and playing along (or maybe he was being fully serious, he would). Kakeru being ridiculous and dramatic. It’s alllll gooood!

- The whole scene with Shigure, Kyo, Yuki and Tohru at dinner with the dessert felt all so normal and domestic! It was great, we haven’t had many ‘regular’ scenes since season 1 and it brought me back a little (Also, Tohru noticing how Kyo has been paying more attention to her in the most Tohru of ways was cute as well 👀)

She did look really cute!!! Of course, Rin’s getting Outfit Appreciation cos of course. That’s it. 4 stars.

I love how this is worded and it’s the perfect description for a toxic family setting, in all situations (like... even without the whole cursed to turn into animals thing). Furuba gets so uncomfortably personal sometimes! And again, mixing this with Yuki’s lesson at the end of episode 20 leads to an interesting conclusion... which I wonder if people would be offended by it... but I’ll get to that later.

Lol, as much as I really appreciated that someone had finally asked Tohru the ‘real question’ of why she’s working so hard to break the curse anyway. Rin’s emotional intelligence and empathy to back down from pressing her about it was really lovely.

In general, I really love that none of the characters are just archetypes. Rin could’ve been written like the bad-ass one with an attitude and an awful past but she also ends up being so emotionally intelligent and caring and loving! SO much!

Also, showing that love can have many unexpected ways of being displayed and expressed. Something which is an ongoing conversation throughout this series...

- The whole scene of Tohru being in bed but dreaming that she was back in her old apartment with her Mum was painfully amazing and definitely relatable. It’s always so haunting when dreams like that happen in general and the look on Tohru’s face at the end when she opens the door just added to it:

Chilling!

Especially if you find a parallel between Tohru’s desperation to be together with her mother to Akito’s desperation to be together with the zodiac...

Tohru is a god

EPISODE 20!!

- Tohru continuing to be a worried mother about Yuki is sweet but also... it’s like... ‘he’ll be okayyyy, Tohru!’ Haha but it’s okay, I think that it’s shown towards the end of this episode that this is kinda the nature of their relationship and Tohru was reassured that Yuki will be ok

Ah, Yuki! How cool of you!!! <3

(Although the original sub version of this was hilarious with the sudden drop in his voice 😂)

- Goddamn it, Kakeru! Between him throwing the papers and him knocking the plants over the other episode, I’m beginning to think this is an impulse for him as well... 🤨

Haha, turns out I was right!

It’s really great how much Kakeru and Yuki’s relationship has grown to where they can trust each other with secrets or private stuff while they’re both separately dealing with their own lives. It’s just really nice :)

Said so well. Yuki gets Best Boi of this episode, of course.

But seriously, this is a really great display of having to accept trauma to therefore move on. Of course, what Yuki, Kakeru and Rin’s parents do is cruel and wrong in so many ways, but you can’t rely on the option that they’ll eventually get better because so many times that’s not the case.

Yuki specifically has come to a result of him accepting his fate of having these shitty people in his life through family ties but is also adapting the way he can move on personally and grow up despite his shitty circumstances. I said this might be controversial to say as it’s not on the victim who should have to change and be better, it’s the abuser. And there’s a chance someone could read this scene and feel like the show is saying otherwise but I also think there’s a realness to having difficult family members that you may have to be tied to through circumstances.

In conclusion, I’m not saying it’s on the victim of a situation to have to adapt to their situation, that shouldn’t be so. But, at this point, if any of these characters want to grow and develop and just live, they unfortunately need to fight for it. They can’t rely on their abusers somehow becoming better.

- Yuki’s growth is highlighted so much throughout this whole episode but I think I love the scene with his mother the most and showing that while Yuki has grown and no longer even acknowledges his mother as a threat anymore that his mother as well is growing and trying (again, in her own way). Also, Yuki’s awkward face remembering that moment was adorable :3

Aha! <3

- Lol I low-key wanna see Tohru as an evil step-sister as much as I wanna see Hana and Kyo pairing up to be Cinderella and the Prince just to see how chaotic it’d be

- The closet scene with the black paint really could’ve gone worse if Yuki was still the same as he was in season 1! While Yuki still had an anxious reaction to the situation which was more than understandable (as Kakeru said <3), I love that he’s in a place now where he can almost pick himself up now, be honest about his feelings and he has other people around to go to now for help! In different friendship circles! Wow.

- Machi knocking down the door for him in a silent mutual acknowledgement is so weirdly... gentle.

A MOTHER!!!

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I really like how the message interwove over two episodes in different contexts. And I hope I was clear in explaining how I saw how the messages came through in different perspectives.

Fruits Basket, coming through with the painful reality! 🥲

(Sorry for the weird ending) See you sooon!!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket 2020 #fruits basket season 2

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ehud1564 · 4 years

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Ireprible damage part 5

part 1: here part 2: here part 3: here part 4: here

part 5: Conclusion:

“ I didn’t want to stop the freanch American ceremony from happening! If I have to lose my freedom for everyone else to have their’s than fine, put me in jail” says the villain with a brand new form. One by one, all the heroes arrived at the scene, at the trap planted by the super villain. And one by the Heroes were “Liberated”. Majestia was liberated from her fear and sadness, Knight Owl was freed from his Morals, and went to arrest easier criminals. And so on and so on and so on.

“What is going to happen? How will the situation be fixed?” asks rose, panicking. “I don’t think it can be fixed” said Nino. “Even if by some miracle, the heroes will be defeated, it will not bring the dead back to life.” added Alya. “Too bad they don’t have Ladybug in here.” said Kim. “If it weren’t for Ladybug, We will have a similar amount of victims daily”.

And than the Television switched to show Hawk Moth. “Ladybug, Chat Noir I am in New York. If you don’t want the party to be ruined, your only option is to hand your miraculous over to me.”

“Hawk moth is here?” Asked Iven bewirlded. “Aperrently so” said Mrs. Mandalave, wondering why couldn’t she have a more peacful trip and questionin whether coming here was a good idea.

Jess went outside, to hide and be alone. “OK! I am completly alone against super heroes much stronger me, without my weapons, and the only thing I do have for me is that freanch girl!! No presure!!!!!” she said completly freaking out.

“OK! Calm down! Calm down!!” she said focusing. She transformed into Sparrow and went in the direction of where the fight ended, using the shadows to not be seen. She found the manhole cover close to the building. With a smirk, she said “Found you!”

Marinette has started to calm down. She still has a headache, and she is still afraid, but she feels a little better. Now she is sitting and meditating, a thing she was taught by Fu before he lost his memory.

“Ladybug” she hears from the direction of where she came from. “Spots on” she say with determination running away. “Wait!! I need your help!!” Sparrow says, staisfied seeing Ladybug had stopped. “Hawk Moth is in New York, and it seems he akumatized the Techno Pirate!!! his powers made the heroes destroy the city!! We are the only herores left that can stop him!!”. “Hawk Moth is here? What did he to do here?” Questioned Ladybug. “I don’t know, but we must defeat and clean the damage!” answered Sparrow. “Well if we will be able to do that, we will bring you sister back to life, as all the damage done by the villain will be erased.” Said Ladybug ready to spring to action. “That’s a relief” replied Sparrow, with a sigh.

Both of them came out of the sewers and went to hide on the earth, where they had a visual of the heroes.

Ladybug: “We need to think where the Akuma is. It’s probably in his handcups! He already wore tham when he attacked at the museum!”

Sparrow: “He is also wearing the necklace from the museum! The one Lahfayete gave to Washington!”

Ladybug: “It’s probably a miraculous! That will explain his sudden power boost! We need to get it and we will be able to return the heroes to normal!”

Sparrow: “But how will we get pass the heroes? We don’t even where he is.”

Ladybug Yoyo got a notification on it, and it showed a rocket rising from the water. You could hear Hawk Moth in it saying “Ladybug and Cat Noir! If the rocket were to take off because of you a world war will be declared! Unless you give me your miraculous of cours1 you have seven minutes~!” and than it showed the villain on the statue of liberty.

Ladybug: Well now we know where he is. How will we get there on time?

Sparrow: If the heroes notice us we will be fried! Can you somehow teleport?

“Let’s see” Ladybug said, pulling out glasses from her Yoyo. “Can you help us get there?’ she asked the Kwami. “No, I am exauhsted” he answered. “We need another way than. Who else can teleport?” She asked Sparrow, checking the design of the statue for any week spots.

Sparrow: “Doorman!”

Ladybug: “Now we just need to find a way to convience him to help us! Any ideas?”

Sparrow: “No. How about you?”

“Let’s try! Lucky Charm!” Ladybug said, throwing her Yoyo in the air, and catching a red liberty statue key chain. “Doorman love keys, we can use them to tempt him!” Sparrow said trying to rush things. “But how will we covince him to go there?” said Ladybug with a frown. “He always wanted to see the safe inside the statue!” Sparrow said happily already tasting victory. “Let’s find a door than!”

“Sorry miss. We need to use your phone and you house door! Do you have a pretty box?” Ladybug asked the women they broke into her house? “On it” replied the women bringing a shoe box. “Thanks! Now hide” Ladybug replied taking a picture of the closed box with the ift in it, sending it from the women’s phone with “Hi! I saw you were going on a tour so I made you a gift! come get it in *appartment*”. Ladybug and Sparrow hid so they would be out of sight.

Doorman apeared, and opened the box. “I know you really liked keys, so here is a key chain as a gift for you!” he red from the note on it. “Why thank you! Wait…. the stuate, that’s where I should have started! Of course!”

Doorman closed the door and reopened it, and Ladybug and Sparrow followed, hiding so he won’t see them. “Here it is! the key for the safe hidden in the statue!” They quickly followed him as he made another door, letting him see what’s inside as they quickly climbed up. An alarm started ringing. “We ony have twenty seconds left!” Ladybug said, accelerating her pace.

She opened the door, quickly taking the necklace and throwing it over to Sparrow, “Transform and fix the heroes, I will distract him!” Sparrow wore the necklace and the Kwami apeared “Hello fledgling, all you have to say is Leere, Wings of liberty!”. “Lerre wings of liberty” Sparrow transformed (without turning into Jess, so not revealing she isn’t the original Sparrow) and contiued saying “Cool down”, bringing the heroes back to normal.

Meanwhile Ladybug managed to catch the remote and keep Techno Pirate from lauhnching the missle. “Where is Chat Noir?” he asked. “Never coming back!” she replies fiercly while launching her yoyo at his head. He lanched her claws at him and she caught two of them with her yoyo. Sparrow came from behind them, using his weapon to tie him up, and Knight Owl cut his handcups.

“No more evil doing for you little akuma! Time to devilise! Bye bye little butterfly. Miraculous Ladybug!!” and thus the damage is repared. Uncanny Valey was repared and reunited with her Mother in a very emotional reunion. “Well. I think I have misjuged you Ladybug. You are a good hero.” said Knight Owl. “And you too Sparrow. You have proved that you are ready to streach your wings as well. I am proud of you” he said as he hugged him. “Thanks sir!”

Sparrow tried to take of her necklace but was stopped by Ladybug. “Or… maybe you can come and help me in Paris? We worked really well together, and I need some help in Paris. So what do you say?” Ladybug asked hopefully. “No bad feelings if you don’t of course.” she added.

“What about New York? I can’t just leave. Plus I can’t speak freanch. Sorry Ladyug.” Sparrow said a little upset. “That’s OK. I will figure it out. Can I have the necklaece than?” Ladybug asked, disappointed. And Sparrrow gave it back. “Well, goodbye than.” Ladybug said, as she went away and transformed back.

Marinette went back to where all their friends are, to be abseloutly crushed by a group hug. “Marinette you are alive!!! I am so sorry!! I should have never done that to you!!!! I understand you want to move on from Adrien, and I promise I will help you. I shouldn’t have done that!!!!!” Alya said crying. “Oh it’s OK Alya. Thank you!!”

“We are doing a video for Adrien as a suprise. Do you want to help us?” Alya asked. “Nah” Marinette answered. “I rathar not.”

Bonus:

Later:

“Let’s try it than” Marinette said, wearing the necklace. “Leere, Wings of liberty!” Marinette transformed. She used her power on Tikki “Tikki, you are enslaved to the miraculous, forced to follow all of the holders orders and transform when said. I free you from that enslavement!”

“Did it work?” Marinette asked. “Let’s try” answered Tikki.

Marinette: “Tikki, I order you to bring me that cookie!”.

Tikki:“No”

Marinette:“Great it worked!!!”

Marinette detransformed, “Let’s try Transforming than. Resist it.”. “Tikki spots on!!” She said, but she didn’t transform. “It works!!! Great!! Now we could liberate all the Kwamies and no one will ever be able to use them for evil. And of course, you aren’t forced to obey me.”

The End. Probably.

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evilbeanghost · 4 years

Text

Snapetober

Here is my participation #6: Day 14 Abandoned (Moonstone fix it part 1/2)

You can also find it on AO3.

So, this is a kind of fix it for my saddest OS "Moonstone". The original is available on AO3, but this can be read separately too.

Be warned: Moonstone ending is really sad. This is what I call the "happy-sad" AU ending ;)

It's in two part, using two prompts! Today is PART 1: Abandoned.

But before we start: thanks a lot to @ailec-12 for her support and help with this one! She helped with my motivation and my english, an impossible work indeed! She’s a star and also a very good writer who I admire a lot.

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

It had been exactly three months since that weird trip to St Mungo with Snape and Sirius couldn't stop thinking about it; about the broken man he used to hate so much, about the fact that he hadn't been able to hate him that day, nor ever since. He just couldn't summon the old feeling anymore; that had been a surprise. Even weirder, Sirius was absolutely certain that Snape had felt the exact same way, he just knew; he had felt it.

He couldn't get over the strange sense of comradeship he had felt during the whole peculiar trip… a sense of belonging he had been missing for so long, kinship even. He wanted to say since Remus, but maybe even before that, before Azkaban… because even the few years he had had with his old friend in the end were tainted by a war and old scars that had needed more time to heal than what they ended up having.

Why was Sirius unable to stop thinking about fucking Severus Snape? He guessed his life had always been a fat fucking joke.

At first, he had tried to think of it as pity: what with the obvious pain and misery the other man seemed to live in now – if that day together was even a little bit representative of his life – and also what with the frankly brutal assault he had suffered as stoically as if it had been something normal for him when they were at that pub? The fucking cowards! Sirius still angered instantly at the thoughts of those guys thinking they were distributing justice by beating up an invalid four on one.

Harry had told him since that it was indeed quite usual sadly, and the reason why he had asked Sirius to take Snape to St Mungo in the first place when he hadn't been able to do so himself. Apparently, among other atrocious things Harry was able to tell Sirius, there had even been an occurrence of a street mob trying to hang the greasy bastard, what was wrong with these people seriously? Was that why they had all given their youths and sanity in a war? For the people they were trying to save to become the monsters themselves?

What a fucking waste. How could Sirius not be seething about that, about it all? Nothing was worth anything anymore and he just wanted to scream.

No, it wasn't pity; not only that anyway. Sirius knew now that it had to do with that sense of "we're the only ones left" that he had felt that day. Apparently, an old enemy from a dead, happy time could still be the only lifebelt for a very lonely man, the last of his kind, lost in a frightening new sea.

It was in this state of mind that Sirius ended up making quite an irrational decision. He just couldn't stay here, in his big London flat – so comfortable and well equipped and so fucking empty and cold whatever Sirius bought to try to warm it up – stewing in his thoughts, wondering, trying to understand the big shift under his metaphorical feet. He just needed to go and see the git, he needed to know that the man was still there, somewhere, well enough, that he still existed somehow. Sirius needed to know that he wasn't alone, that the oppressive loneliness that had been killing him since Remus, since he could take a minute to feel it, since the war had ended, that that crushing feeling he was fighting against every day, even in the presence of friends, of Harry, of all of James' wonderful great-children, could be lifted again, if only for one single day, one hour… just like it did that weird day three months ago. And damn it if it meant he had to go see if fucking Snape was alright.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Severus was lying on his old uncomfortable sofa, on his back, trying not to move while the pain potion did its work. Unfortunately, the fact that he was still breathing was not sitting very well with the not moving part of his plan. One more thing to add to his pile of reasons why he should just have stopped the breathing thing as soon as that fucking snake had had a taste of him. How unfortunate, really.

Closing his eyes, he tried to empty his mind, not having been able to let go of the old habit despite not being able to occlude anymore, since the damn snake, again. It wasn't completely ineffective though, but when it had been a really efficient way to ignore anything from anxiety to physical pain for some extent of time in the past, it was now more a kind of soft meditation, helping with things, even if only a little, but definitely not as good as occluding was. He missed it very much.

The potions were helping a little less every day and Severus could sense his background panic rise a little more at each new progress of the pain. Every day he thought he just couldn't deal with any more than this, he just couldn't. And then, the next day was there and it was just that tiny little bit worse, and he endured it anyway. It wasn't good news. It was a growing despair in his very soul and Severus knew that he was near the end of his endurance, that he just needed it all to stop, that nothing was worth this and especially not his pitiful life. But the thing was that it just didn't stop, it kept getting worse and he was slowly losing his mind to it. Why couldn't it fucking stop? It wasn't fair. Well, life wasn't, right? His had never been anyway.

Severus jumped suddenly from his restless slumber. He had apparently ended up asleep when the potion had finally kicked in. It wasn't a surprise in his weakened state. Wondering briefly what had woken him up so suddenly, he didn't wait long before the answer came to him in the form of an insistent knock on his front door. Fucking great.

Grimacing, he sat down as quickly as possible in his current state, then he quickly threw a hair-slicking charm, and a cleaning spell on himself, before trying to soothe the angry wrinkles on his clothes in an attempt to appear somewhat presentable. He really needed a shower…Rubbing his eyes slowly, he was again interrupted by a firm "tap tap tap", his visitor having surely heard his moving around by now.

"One minute please, I'm coming", the sound of his grating broken voice startled him more than he would have admitted. He just didn't use it a lot these days. This was his first visitor in around two months after all.

At least Moonstone was quite content with his daily murmuring… his soft words, always delivered under his breath, being enough to get him a cuddle from her every time. He hoped she hadn't been spooked by the knocking… she tended to be spooked by a lot of things; cats were weird like that.

Finally on his feet, he dragged himself toward the door, using the walls to help him along the way. The unpleasant creaking of his front door made him grimace again – it was fitting somehow though.

And it was then that Severus got his second startle of the day.

"What are you doing here?", he asked bluntly, bewildered by the identity of his visitor. He knew he shouldn't have agreed to letting him know where he lived.

"Hello to you too Snape, I see that you're as pleasant as ever," replied the stupid man, smiling like the idiot he was.

"Don't fuck around Black, what are you doing at my house?"

"And here I thought we were pals, why are you hurting me this way?"

Taking his nose between two fingers in exasperation, Severus just took a side step, freeing the other's path into the house in a silent – if somewhat still hostile – gesture of invitation.

"Thanks! You took ages to open the fucking door Snape, I was starting to think that you didn't want to see me!"

Severus summoned all the strength he was still capable of before closing the door behind him. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

"Do you want some tea Black?" Severus asked, feeling compelled to play host despite himself.

"Why not? The one you offered me last time was quite good, I wouldn't say no to a bit more of that!"

"Tea it is – just sit down and don't touch anything."

Severus let his guest sit on the sofa he had just vacated to go make some tea in his derelict kitchen. It gave him a little time to process what was happening. Sirius fucking Black was waiting for some tea in his living room and he was actually making it. Surely the world couldn't take such a thing?

That surreal road-trip to St Mungo some months ago had definitely shook the laws of the universe. Him and Black… what was this new thing between them? Severus knew that it wasn't exactly friendship, but it definitely wasn't the animosity of their past either. It was… something else, something like the sense of belonging that soldiers felt in each other when they had fought a war on the same side.

Something that wasn't the loneliness that had been permeating Severus's entire life, the loneliness that seemed only to grow with his physical weakness those last few years, gnarling at his tarnished soul a little more each day, living that raising despair in its wake that was becoming unbearable lately. And everything that wasn't that was welcomed, even if it was in a Sirius Black shape of all things. Anything that didn't make him feel like the world had definitely abandoned him after he had tried so hard to save it, anything like that was nice – underserved since he was the one trying to destroy it in the first place, but nice. He didn't have enough will to protect anything of himself at this point, to do the right thing, he would take nice against painful any day. He didn't have any pride left anyway.

When he got back in the living room, Black was busy petting a furiously purring Moonstone. The cat was on the man's lap, showing her belly shamelessly. What a furry little traitor. Severus remembered then that she had acted the same way the last time too… He had apparently rescued the only cat in the world who was fond of stupid mutts – lucky him.

Black raised his head at his appearance, using his wand to summon the heavy tray from Severus's shaking hands without a word. It landed softly on the coffee table, not a drop falling outside the teapot, which was quite impressive from an unsubtle grunt like Black.

"Your cat is the cutest thing I've ever seen Snape, I swear, how did you endup with this fine specimen?"

"I found her," replied Severus, quite defensively. It made Black laugh for some reason.

"Well, she's adorable… if a little clingy."

"She's not clingy. She just seems to have horrible tastes in human beings," said Severus, including himself mentally in the statement.

Severus sat on the battered armchair, offering a cup of tea to his unexpected guest.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sirius was once again walking briskly through the depressing streets around Spinner's End, trying to reach the little hiding spot he had been using as an apparition point for weeks now. He really didn't like this neighbourhood, he felt like every person he passed on the dirty streets were out to mug him, or worse.

He couldn't believe he had been going to visit Snape at least twice a week for more than two months now. And the other man had let him in every time, to Sirius's surprise. Oh, he did protest a little at first, using the same old insults in a new way that seemed to take the worst of the bite from them. It was somewhat the state of their new relationship. They still did the old things, the name-calling, the mocking, the insults, but everything turned into a sort of warm banter that was way more companionship than sworn enemies. Sirius certainly was still completely baffled by it. So out of his comfort zone that he hadn't told anyone so far that he had been visiting Snape. Not even Harry… He wouldn't have known what to say really.

Turing left for the last time, Sirius finally reached the spot he had been walking towards. Looking around to be sure no muggle could see him, he took his wand from his pocket, frowning a little when it came out with a clump of dark fur – that damn cat! – before apparating directly into his flat.

Compared to Snape's, his home looked like that of a Prince – which was somewhat ironic now that he knew a little more about Snape's family. But despite the cleanliness, the costly furniture and equipment, despite all the stuff cluttering his nice and cosy home, it still felt lonely after an entire afternoon spent on Snape's uncomfortable sofa, just talking with the prickly git.

Sirius knew that he ought to apologize to the man for some things… he had tried a few times but in the end he didn't find the words that would have fitted their new found dynamic. They just didn't seem to have that type of relationship.

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It was around seven months after the initial disastrous road-trip, fourth months after his first afternoon tea with Snape, and Sirius found himself in front of that dingy front door once again, having fell into a Monday-Thursday-and-sometimes-even-Saturdays routine at this point.

Except that today the git was taking a very long time to answer the door.

At first, Sirius had shrugged it off, trying to make his knocking more insistent. After all, Snape sometimes fell asleep unexpectedly and it could take him a while to wake up and make his painful way towards the door. Sirius still remembered that first time, when he had been about to renounce when the door had finally creaked open, revealing a very rough-looking Snape behind. He had smelled a little rough too that day but Sirius had not commented on it. Now that he was thinking about it, his host had always seemed at least somewhat cleaner after that, if still rumpled around the edges. Sirius chose to think that it was because their new little arrangement was as beneficial to Severus's health as it was to his own. He knew he wasn't so far off, why else would the other man let him keep this up?

Knocking again impatiently, Sirius began to frown. It was getting ridiculous now, what was Snape doing? Taking matters into his own hands, Sirius knocked again loudly, adding for good measure:

"Snape, get your skinny, ugly arse to the door! It's freezing outside!"

When five minutes had passed and still nothing happened, Sirius started to worry. Severus had not been well in a long time and Sirius knew, even if they never talked about it – Hell, he didn't even know exactly what was wrong with him – that it was serious.

That's when he heard Moonstone. She was mewling behind the door in a distressed sort of way that he hadn't heard from her before. Really alarmed now, Sirius didn't think, he took his wand out of his pocket – thanks Merlin he was now included in the wards – and simply vanished the front door, immediately being greeted by what looked like a very distressed cat indeed.

Sirius took her with one arm, immediately petting her against his chest, enjoying her warm little body.

"Where is your human little cat?" he asked her softly, looking around for Severus.

The man wasn't in the living room, the sofa was empty and the room cold and dark. The kitchen was the same and Sirius didn't waste any time before revealing the hidden-staircase and running upstairs, his throat constricting painfully. Please please please.

The bedroom's door was ajar and Sirius let go of the wrangling cat when he saw that Severus was lying on his bed, pale and shaking, breathing heavily with his eyes closed too hard for it to be only with sleep.

"Snape!" called Sirius while entering the room hastily, kneeling by the bed, not knowing what to do.

When the lying man didn't answer, he touched his shoulder lightly. Snape was wearing a horrible grey nightshirt that was now twisted around his legs tightly, immobilizing him in what looked like a very uncomfortable way. He was drenched in sick-smelling sweat. He didn't react to Sirius's touch, apparently in the throw of some painful episode.

"Severus, please wake up!" repeated Sirius while shaking his friend a little more forcefully.

Snape's eyes shot open, before closing again, accompanied by a pitiful whimper. He shook his head slowly, as if to convey to Sirius to just let him be. Well, Sirius wasn't going to abandon him like that.

"Severus, please, tell me what's wrong?"

Snape's eyes opened slowly again, and Sirius was soon enthralled in the dark gaze he had once thought was empty. Sirius couldn't count the number of emotions he could now read in the other's eyes. Pain first, and despair, and sticky distress that smelled like someone in the process of giving up for good. But also "sorry" somehow, and "please go" coupled with a strong involuntary "don't leave me alone".

Understanding now that Snape was not just in too much pain to reach the door as he had been on a few past occasions, but that something was really wrong with him, Sirius didn't waste another minute. He took his thick outer-cloak off and hastily wrapped the thin man in it, atrocious nightshirt and all. Lifting him off the bed, he took him outside the house's wards, quickly transfigured the bin's lid into a basic replacement-door to keep Moosntone in until he could go back for her, and immediately apparated to St Mungo, hoping that the risk of it was worth it.

#severus snape #sirius black #snapetober #snapetober 2020 #snapedom #Moonstone #AU ending sorta fixing the sadness #but not completely!#part 2 tomorrow #I hope someone will be interested anyway #I hesitated about the two-parts thing #but it's so freaking long and it is using two prompts anyway #I hope it's ok that way #I will maybe reblog this later tagging some people who enjoyed Moonstone in the firstplace #just in case they are interested in this #This was HARD to write #I suffered a lot #but not as much as my punctuation lmao #but it was written quite fast too

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trashyswitch · 4 years

Text

Virgil's Post-Halloween Adventure With Roman

Virgil has been really down since Halloween came and went. So, Roman creates a full Halloween city so Virgil and some of the other sides can bring their Halloween fantasies to life.

This was requested by @puppysparkles03. You wanted drastic measures, so: HAVE AN ENTIRE HALLOWEEN TOWN! XD Hope you like it!

Virgil had been in a sad mood since November started. Virgil got his chance to dress up and be his scary self for halloween but...now that Halloween was over, Virgil had grown sad. He loved halloween. Why couldn’t it be Halloween for longer than an evening? The only things that have made Virgil somewhat satisfied was his Halloween candy. Virgil’s been eating tons of halloween candy as of late. From sweets to mini bags of chips, to juice boxes and candy corns, even a rice crispy square ended up in his halloween bag. That was a nostalgic moment for him. It was nice to eat a rainbow (gay) rice crispy square.

One day, Roman managed to get Virgil out of his room for a little adventure in the mind palace. Despite enjoying being out of the room, Virgil did grow annoyed by all the walking. “Can’t you conjure up a train or a car? Or, maybe even a horse and buggy?” Virgil asked.

Roman giggled. “Come on, Virgil! It’s such a pretty day for a walk. Wouldn’t you agree?” Roman asked. Virgil only let out a grunt as a reply. Roman turned to face him. “Come on, Hallo-whiner. I think you’re gonna like the special place that I conjured up, just for you:” Roman told him, grabbing his hand.

Virgil looked up at Roman with the smallest glimmer of hope in his eyes. Roman summoned some black eyeshadow, and help Virgil touch it up. “There ya go. And some blood…” Roman started drawing liquid red face paint dribbles that ran down the corners of Virgil’s mouth to the sides of his chin. “There! Maybe some red lipstick-”

“No red lipstick.” Virgil told him.

“Oooor no red lipstick.” Roman changed up his wording before putting the lid on his lipstick. “Okay! Looking all halloweeny!” Roman declared.

“I thought Halloween was over?” Virgil told him.

“Not unless you want it to be over. And something tells me you don’t want Halloween to be over just yet.” Roman admitted.

Roman picked up Virgil and walked up a hill. Soon, the luscious green grass disappeared from his vision and dark purples, oranges and blacks filled his vision. Virgil’s eyes widened when he realized what it was: It was an entire halloween city!

“What do you think?” Roman asked.

“Are you kidding?!” Virgil reacted. “I LOVE IT!” Virgil yelled, grabbing his shoulders with a big smile on his face. Roman giggled and looked over at the halloween city. “Now: I have given you the ability to snap into the halloween costume of your dreams!” Roman explained to him. “For example:” Roman snapped and watched as a bunch of material surrounded him before disappearing with his costume on himself.

“Oooooh! A roman emperor?” Virgil specified.

“Indeed! A Roman emperor who must rule with an iron fist!” Roman explained. His clothing consisted of a white robe with a brown rope tied around his middle, and a long red sash that was wrapped around his left arm and flowed down the rest of his lower body. To top it off, Roman had a golden laurel wreath on his head! He looked amazing, to be honest!

“Do you have a costume preference of your own, Virgil?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded and snapped his fingers. A whole bunch of material surrounded Virgil, and soon flew away and disappeared to reveal Virgil’s brand new costume.

Roman gasped and dropped his jaw. “OH MY GOSH- SWEENEY TODD! YESSS!” Roman reacted, covering his mouth.

Virgil was dressed up as Johnny Depp’s version of Sweeney Todd. He had his brown hair spray dyed black and gelled back, with a white big streak in the middle left of the hairline. He had the slightly tattered vest tuxedo with a belt on a pair of striped pants, male ankle boots and a pair of fingerless gloves on his hands. In his vest pocket were some plastic traditional barber knives, and in his pants pocket was a vintage pocket watch.

“HELL YEAH! I LOVE Sweeney Todd! Classic musical!” Roman declared.

Virgil looked at his own costume and started acting a little like a fanboy. “I’ve always wanted to dress up as this character, but it’s a really hard costume to pull off.” Virgil admitted.

“Oh! You forgot something!” Roman told him. Roman summoned a long black coat and put it on Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil smiled and put it on. “It’s gonna be a little cold in there.” Roman let him know.

Virgil blushed a little. “Thank you.” Virgil replied.

“Now come, my killer barber! We shall visit Halloween City!” Roman declared, pointing to the city. Suddenly, a big horse and buggy came rolling up right beside them. Virgil and Roman hopped into the horse and buggy before the horse was signalled to start clop-clopping to the city.

The city itself was FILLED to the brim with stereotypical halloween stuff. There were stores for buying and trying on halloween costumes of large variety, big towers with witches and cauldrons so you could make your own spells, a big library filled with horror, thriller and grotesque-themed books and movies in them, a cemetery filled with floating ghosts, skeletons and zombies, and there were even caves surrounded by dead forest that housed the cats, snakes, bats and vampires. The more that Virgil saw out the sides of the horse and buggy windows, the more excited Virgil got!

“You made all this?!” Virgil reacted.

“Yes, I did!” Roman replied.

Virgil gasped and looked around more as the horse and buggy dropped them off in the middle of the city. The middle of the city has a simple, run down fountain in the middle with vines circulating the brick water pit. In the middle of the water fountain, was a few skulls lined up like a square with an infinite waterfall running through their eyes, nose holes and mouths, that fell into the water pit below. It was kinda creepy, but...strangely beautiful to look at.

Virgil almost immediately ran up to the big victorian library. “COME ON, ROMAN!” Virgil yelled to him.

“I’M COMING!” Roman yelled, quickly catching up to him.

Virgil walked up the stairs and quickly opened up the library door. The Victorian library was just as vintage-looking as it was on the outside. Only change being the place looked like a clean kind of vintage. The metal looked polished, the huge shelves looked old but not dirty or super run down, the ladder was wooden but stable and well made, and the middle aisles of shelves had movies and VHS tapes that you could borrow! This wasn’t just a victorian era library...this was a super old building that had been well kept and updated throughout the centuries!

Virgil happily looked around. “Logan would be over the moon about this.” Virgil told Roman.

“I know! He already IS!” Roman told him, before pointing to the ancient kids stories sections. There, hidden within the aisles, was Logan reading a Brothers Grimm fairytales from the 1800’s!

Logan looked up and smiled. “Hello, Virgil. I love the costume.” he greeted, giving Virgil an excited smile.

Logan was dressed up as Charlie ‘The Tramp’ Chaplin. He had the large bowl hat, the mustache, the large shoes, the suit and everything in between! He even had a bamboo cane perched up against the library shelf while he read.

“Hi Logan. Charlie Chaplin, huh?” Virgil reacted.

“Indeed. One of the most well known actors of the silent era.” Logan replied.

Virgil smiled and decided to ignore the bad things about Chaplin...for now. “Enjoying the book?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, I am! This is simply a collection of the Brothers Grimm stories compressed into one novel. It’s very interesting understanding just how much grim topics they could handle back in the day.” Logan told him.

Virgil nodded and started to look around himself. He found an aisle filled with classic novels like Little Woman, The Pride and The Prejudice, the Nancy Drew series, the Frankenstein novel and the original Dracula, an aisle filled with Shakespeare books, an aisle filled with outdated nonfiction books on multiple subjects, an entire aisle dedicated to the decades of encyclopedias, and even an entire aisle dedicated to the Marvel comic books throughout the decades! Virgil practically LOST it when he found Edgar Allen Poe novels, and quickly bought them. To make things even cooler, Roman summoned some 1800’s original bills and coins so he could pay for them! Virgil owed him a huge hug for that one.

After visiting the library, Virgil was brought to the cemetery to take a walk with Roman. “You are gonna LOVE this!” Roman told him. They only got a few minutes to walk around the cemetery before the huge clock tower struck 12.

Suddenly, a bunch of skeletons came digging out from under the graves and started dancing! The skeletons were very cartoon-like, similarly to Disney’s skeleton animation! And the best part? They were listening to ‘Spooky Scary Skeletons’ on a big radio as they danced around!

Virgil was smiling through the whole thing. “This is awesome!” Virgil reacted.

“I’ll say!” someone said, walking up to him from behind. Virgil turned around and widened his eyes. “Oh my…Are you Ed Gein?” Virgil asked.

Remus chuckled. “You bet I am!” Remus replied.

Virgil rubbed his nose, but chuckled a little. “You couldn’t go for leather face? Or Norman Bates?” Virgil asked.

“Nope! Gotta go all out!” Remus declared. “And what better than a guy who does more grave-digging than murdering?” Remus joked.

Virgil nodded, but awkwardly looked away. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Remus’s costume.

“WHY HELLO THERE!” someone yelled behind him. Virgil yelped and turned around. It was one of the dancing, singing skeletons!

“O-oh...You talk?” Virgil reacted.

“You BET I do! Call me Skelly!” the skeleton introduced, holding out their bone hand.

Virgil raised an eyebrow and chuckled at the name. “Virgil.” He replied, shaking the bone hand.

“What’s so funny? Is my name rib-ticklin’ to ya?” Skelly asked, showing off his ribcage.

Virgil stifled a laugh and pushed their shoulder. “Knock off the puns. You’re not as humerus as you think.” Virgil told him.

Skelly frowned at first, but quickly caught on. Skelly pointed to his own shoulder and smiled widely, before laughing. “Not bad, ol’ chum!” Skelly reacted. “Now tell me: Are you a skeleton too?” Skelly asked.

Virgil thought for a moment. “Well, not exactly. I do have a skeleton in me, but it’s filled and covered with flesh and organs.” Virgil explained.

“Wow! So, you have muscles?” Skelly asked. Virgil nodded. “A heart?” Skelly asked, pointing to the left side of his own chest. VIrgil giggled and nodded. “Oh! What about a skull?” Skelly asked before knocking on the top of Virgil’s head.

Virgil yipped at first and flapped his hands above his head. “Oi! My noggin’s not for knockin’!” Virgil warned.

Skelly chuckled at that. “What about ribs? Do you have a ribcage too?” Skelly asked, poking the left side of his ribcage.

Virgil jumped and stepped back, throwing his hands up in defense. “Okay buddy...No poking.” Virgil warned.

“Why not? Ticklish ribs?” Skelly asked, poking his ribcage again. Virgil wheezed somewhat and flapped his hands at him. “Dohon’t you dare…” Virgil warned.

Roman walked up to Virgil and picked the man up before throwing him at Skelly. “Have fun!” Roman told him.

Virgil squeaked and reached his arm out. “NO!” before landing into Skelly’s arms.

Skelly caught him perfectly and held him like a baby. “What a cute little fleshy skeleton I have! I could tickle you here,” Skelly started poking and prodding his ribs. “Here, here,” Skelly poked his front ribs. “Here, Aaaand HERE!” Skelly placed its claw tips onto Virgil’s belly and started skittering his fingers on his belly.

“What thehehehe- HAHAhahahaha! Whyhyhyhy thihihihis?!” Virgil asked, falling into a fit of giggles.

“Oh! It’s quite simple, really. I remember hearing from a certain someone, that your black makeup turns a dark purple when you’re all flustered! Isn’t that right, Emperor Romulus?” Skelly explained.

Roman giggled and shook his head. “It’s Roman, Skelly.” Roman corrected.

“Oh yeah…” Skelly muttered as he moved his fingers to Virgil’s sides.

“WAIT! NAHAhahahat myhyhyhy sihihihides! Lahahay ohohoff, mahahahan!” Virgil ordered.

“Lay? Okay.” Skelly laid Virgil down onto the dirt ground and resumed squeezing his sides.

“ThAHAHAt’s nahahahat whahat Ihihi meheheant, ya doohohohofus!” Virgil reacted.

“Really? When you said ‘lay off’, you didn’t mean ‘put me onto the ground and continue tickling me’? I could’ve sworn that was what you meant.” Skelly teased.

“Thahahat’s NAHAHAT whahahat I meheheant, ahahand YOHOHOHOU knohohow ihihihihit!” Virgil shot back.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so harsh on me. Looking at my point of view, you’d be confused too.” Skelly lightly argued.

Then, Skelly decided to pull a move that would drive anyone mad: Skelly started quickly spidering his fingers up and down Virgil’s ribs and sides. “NOOO! NO, NONONO- SKEHEHELLYHYHYHY! STAHAHAHAHAP!” Virgil laughed. Virgil’s eyeshadow color started to change the longer that he was tickled. And the higher up that Skelly’s fingers went, the more hysterical that Virgil’s laughter became. “WAHAHAITWAIT! DON’TGOAHAHANY- AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! CUHUHUHUT IHIHIHIT OHOHOUHUHUT!” Virgil pleaded through his laughter.

“But why? You seem to be having so much fun! I can see it in your eyes!” Skelly proclaimed. “Well...below them, anyway.” Skelly followed up. Virgil’s eyeshadow had turned a pretty hue of purple rather quickly. Roman’s mouth widened excitedly as he gazed upon Virgil’s flustered face. “Roman was right! His eyeshadow CAN turn purple when flustered and happy!” Skelly reacted.

Roman smiled. “So Virgil Sanders enjoys being tickled?” He asked.

“IHIHIHI DOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOT!” Virgil tried to protest.

Roman just giggled at this. “Your eyes and eyeshadow marks give you away. Not only are you flustered by tickling, you seem to love the affection!” Roman explained out loud.

“Well! Rattle my bones and call me Skelly!” Skelly declared in surprise. “This Sweeney Todd is kinda cute!” Skelly declared.

“AHAHAHAM NOHOHOHOHOT!” Virgil protested.

“You really are, Virgil.” Roman replied. “Right, Skelly?” Roman asked.

“You are indeed, right!” Skelly replied.

As much as Skelly wanted to keep tickling him, Roman soon gave him the signal to stop. Skelly followed what he said and retreated his bony fingers. Stepping aside, Skelly let Roman walk up to him and help Virgil up.

“You okay?” Roman asked. Virgil nodded and took Roman’s hand, allowing him to help him up. Virgil’s eyeshadow was still quite purpley after all that. Roman giggled at this and rubbed his cheek. “Still flustery purple.” Roman told him happily.

Virgil giggled and shook his head as he pushed Roman’s hands away. “Stahap that.” Virgil told him, still quite flustered. Roman, Remus and Skelly all laughed at this.

Soon enough, Virgil and Roman moved on, to explore the rest of the city. As they left, Virgil and Roman gave Skelly a goodbye wave. “Bye Skelly! Have fun singing!” Roman yelled to him.

“Will do!” Skelly replied.

“Thank you for the fun time, Skelly!” Virgil said to him.

“Not a problem at all!” Skelly yelled back.

Virgil, Roman and Remus went to a special costume shop next, where he happily got himself a pair of bat wings and a vampire cloak!

By the time the clan got back, Virgil and the sides were feeling as happy as could be. They quickly started showing off their stuff to each other.

Remus got a fake skeleton from the prop shop, a witch potion bottle filled with thick blood, and a big black victorian portrait from the vintage market! He was non stop talking about having his room all halloween-y, till Remembrance day comes around.

Logan got himself a dozen books, a vintage writing book, a fountain pen and multiple ink reloading viles! He was all set for some journaling.

Roman got himself a classic king crown, an empty treasure chest to fill with items, and some vintage, expensive-looking jewellery for himself! He looked super excited to look like he was covered in riches.

Besides the bat wings and the cloak, Virgil also got himself some ruby red lipstick, a pretty black vampire choker, and a pair of black formal shoes.

With how the day went, Roman could proudly proclaim that Halloween City was a big success! Roman placed the entire imagined place into a pretty notebook and carved the words ‘Halloween City’ and ‘open on November 1, 2021’ into the front before placing it onto his book shelf...

#halloween #imagination #ler!skelly #lee!virgil #virgil is a sweetheart #emperor roman #1900s logan #ed gein remus #sweeney todd virgil

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thenightling · 3 years

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I have been too shy to talk to you as I haven't been a fan of The Sandman for very long. I hope that's okay and I love your fan fiction. I am almost done reading volume 6 Fables and Reflections and I would like to know how would you rank the stories in it from most favorite to least favorite? Also how would you rank the stories in the third volume Dream Country from most favorite to least favorite?

Hello,

Oh, sure! Don't be shy. I won't bite (unless asked. ;-) I love talking about The Sandman. And welcome to the fandom! I still consider myself new too. I only finally read it for the first time in 2017 and others of my age group were reading them since the 90s. So I'm making up for lost time.

Let's see.

Fables and Reflections in order of favorite to least favorite...

There are so many good ones in this one it's hard to decide.

Fear of Falling - I love this one. Morpheus is helpful and inspiring and it's very pro-creativity and pro-taking chances on yourself and what you do, artistically. Note: Not every version of Fables and Reflections comes with this but the 30th anniversary one does and I'm using that to make this list.

Soft Places - I like this one a lot. It tells the nature of The Soft Places / the Shifting Zones. It's a good story and you get to see characters at different points in their adventures. You have Marco Polo of the thirteenth century, Gilbert obviously shortly after A Game of You but before Brief lives. And Morpheus, fresh from his captivity, right before Imperfect Hosts. This is before Gregory found him and brought him to The House of Mystery to recover. And you can see his character growth. Marco Polo gives him water and in return he uses his last bit of strength to help Marco Polo get home. It's sweet.

Parliament of Rooks - I love this one. It introduces us to the concept of The Lil' Endless, we get to see baby Daniel apparently lucid dreaming while still only a toddler. We get the story of Eve. And it's always great to see Cain and Abel as storytellers. I also love seeing Matthew mock Cain and compare him to Vincent Price. "That Bargain basement Vaudevillian!" Hehe. (I love Vincent Price.) Also Goldie is very distinctly gendered as he here, repeatedly. So why is it, I wonder, that in all the spin-off versions of The Dreaming Goldie is suddenly a she?

Thermidor - I like Johanna Constantine. And this is the first appearance (I believe) of Orpheus other than his brief mention in Calliope and the stand-alone Sandman: Special Song of Orpheus. I also really like Jessamy. (*Glares at David S. Goyer* YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID! ....I'm okay... JESSSSAMY!!!! (You'll get that in about a year I think...)

The Hunt - Who doesn't love a slightly subversive werewolf story / fairy tale? Also Lucien looks great here and we get to see him pro-actively protecting his library.

Song of Orpheus - Some versions of Fables and Reflections don't have this story as it was originally a stand alone one shot but it's absolutely necessary if you aren't well versed in Greek mythology. It essentially retells the myth of Orpheus but with The Endless and Morpheus as his father (Many think Apollo was his father). It's very well told and you really feel for Orpheus. This is not a comfortable story to read but gives you an idea of what Morpheus was like at his most... assholary. It's also really well drawn.

Ramadan - I like this one. The artwork is a little busy but I do love Morpheus’ entrance into the story. Again this is back during his asshole days and there is some good commentary here. It’s also very respectful to the Islamic faith. I love Morpheus’ outfit in this one.

Three Septembers and a January. - This is a good one. Dream vs. Despair. And the real world, historic, Emperor Norton gets to appear in The Sandman. It's historically accurate (save for The Endless) and actually very respectful to history.

August - This one is good but a little sad, a little depressing. It's very well drawn and it introduces us to the raven Aristeas, the poet. Poor Morpheus, welcome to the running gag of being mistaken as Apollo. There's some abuse in here, if I remember right. And Morpheus is a little callous, as he often was before his "Time out" bubble.

___________________________________________

Dream Country in order of favorite to least favorite

A Midsummer Night’s Dream - I love this one. We get to see William Shakespeare for the first time since Men of Good Fortune (the story that introduces us to Hob Gadling). A Midsummer Night’s Dream happens to be my favorite Shakespearean play. I always loved Puck even if Neil did feel the need to turn him into a little psychopath.

If you pay careful attention you see that Shakepseare’s son is tempted with faery fruit and so will be turned into a faery by the eating of it, as is how it goes in some folklore. Sometimes it places you under the faery’s spell. Sometimes it makes you one of them. In this case he becomes an immortal faery and that’s a much better fate than dying (I hope.) He does end up Titania’s slave (Unfortunately fae are a race with a very slave-based class system) but fae are strange and fickle and maybe he enjoys his role serving her and prefers it to the short life he would have had as a human.

This is also the story where we get the famous “Shadow truths” speech from Morpheus, which I hope will be in the new Netflix series. And we learn that it’s thanks to Morpheus that mortals will continue to dream of, think of, and even believe in the fae for years to come thanks to him having Shakespeare write that play. He has helped to sustain faery magick in our world and I like that.

Calliope - This one is a very difficult read since it addresses concepts like slavery, dehumanizing, forced imprisonment and rape. It’s the second time we see non-human creatures being dehumanized by being stripped of clothing and not being perceived as a person. The first time was with Morpheus, himself, in the very first issue, Sleep of the Just. This one is difficult to read because you feel so bad for Calliope. But the revenge Morpheus takes for her is so satisfying. I hope the Netflix show doesn’t change it too much. I know how modern audiences and writers feel about “White knights” and might want Calliope to save herself but I think it’s important to show Morpheus coming to her aid because it reveals how much character growth he’s had. That he knows he treated her poorly back when they were married. And again, the revenge he takes for her is very satisfying.

Dream of a Thousand cats - I love animals. I love cats. I have three cats of my own. Two of them I adopted the very day I read Dream of a Thousand cats for the first time (by pure coincidence). The death of the kittens is something very difficult for me. That is gut wrenching. But I do love the concept that if a thousand souls dream the same thing at the same time it has the potential to re-write all of reality is that things were always a certain way. This also nicely foreshadows the story we get in The Sandman: Overture and I love Overture.

Façade - I’m sorry to say I kind of dislike this one. I don’t think it’s what Neil intended but if feels like it romanticizes death a bit (as a concept, not a person). You have a protagonist who is clearly clinically depressed and isolated and the best answer is apparently suicide!? What she needed was a real friend, one that wouldn’t judge her by her appearance, and perhaps counseling. A friend of mine attempted suicide a few summers ago and I had to hastily contact her mother on Facebook while it was happening so that may have impacted how I see this story. This is one of those stories where I don’t think Death is as kind and sweet as so many fans think she is. She came off as rather callous to me and not really friendly, and Kat Dennings’ delivery in the audio drama verison didn’t help matters.

I’m glad The Sandman audio drama reversed the order for A Midsummer Night’s Dream and façade. I think A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a much better place to end on than Façade.

#The Sandman #Sandman

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

Text

Fic: In Another Life

Summary: After Emma arrives in town, Mr Gold remembers just who his cleaning lady, Mrs Chevalier, was in the Enchanted Forest, leading him into a dangerous fight for their happy ending.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Belle is in town during the curse.

Rated: M

CW: blood, graphic injury, domestic abuse.

Note: I’ve had this idea sitting half-written on my PC for over seven years. Since it fits this prompt nicely, I decided to dust it off, so please excuse any weirdness – it germinated back during season 1.

In Another Life

It sufficed to say that prior to Emma Swan’s arrival in the town, Mr Gold had not really given all that much thought to the woman who cleaned his house.

Isabelle Chevalier was reputed as the best cleaner in Storybrooke – the fact that she was the only one never seemed to register – and Gold trusted her to keep his home spotless and not to break any of the valuable knick-knacks that he had on display there.

They said hello and goodbye if their paths crossed of a morning or evening, and the envelope he left on the kitchen table containing her wages was always picked up, but that was the extent of their interactions. Everyone knew that Mrs Chevalier was a meek, mild woman who wouldn’t say boo to a goose and who lived firmly under her husband’s thumb.

It was sad, they all thought, but there was nothing to be done about it. It had always been that way for as long as anyone could remember. High school sweethearts who turned out not to be so sweet in the end. Such a common occurrence, so sadly unavoidable.

Until Emma Swan came to town, and time started moving in a linear forwards direction again, and Mr Gold remembered who he really was.

More importantly, he remembered who Issy Chevalier really was too.

Belle. He had thought he had lost her for good. He had imagined her body – broken and crumpled at the foot of a tall tower – so many times that sometimes he had trouble reminding himself that he had not actually seen such a sight.

But here she was, alive and well and married to a vulgar thug who cared more about his hunting trips than about the remarkable, beautiful woman that the curse had given him the good fortune to be married to in this land.

He wanted to kill Regina, twice over. First for the deception and then for putting Belle in Gaston’s clutches when Rumpelstiltskin knew how little she cared for him, and everyone in the town knew and turned a blind eye to Issy Chevalier’s hopeless situation.

He couldn’t kill Regina, of course, no matter how much hatred was boiling and crystallising in his veins. He couldn’t risk her knowing that his memories had returned. For now, he was going to have to bide his time. Still, just because he couldn’t get down to vicious revenge on Regina yet, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t do something for Belle, to try and make her life under the curse a bit more bearable.

What would be best, of course, would be if he could wake her up too somehow. True love’s kiss wouldn’t work. She barely knew him in this life and just as Rumpelstiltskin’s reputation had preceded him in the Enchanted Forest, so Gold’s reputation preceded him in Storybrooke.

He sighed. Perhaps waking her wouldn’t be the best option after all. She’d need to keep her true memories hidden just as he would, and it would only cause more heartache for the both of them if she remembered her feelings for him but couldn’t act on them, having to go home to another man every night. No, it would be kinder to keep her under the curse for now.

He could not help Belle, but perhaps he could help Issy, and be a friend to her where no one else would.

Rumpelstiltskin put his plan into action the very next day. It was Issy’s usual day for cleaning his home, and as much as he was anxious to get to the shop and retake his inventory now that he would remember the true nature of all the items therein, he waited until Issy arrived.

“Good morning, Mrs Chevalier. Would you like some tea before you start?”

Issy looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“No, I, erm, I really should be getting on.” She hurried past him into the kitchen, snapping on her rubber gloves and starting to clean with twice her usual vigour (which was already significantly greater than the somewhat distracted performance she had put in whilst dusting his collection back in the Dark Castle). It made Rumpelstiltskin sad to see her so meek and cowed when he had only ever known her as stubborn and brave.

He watched her from the doorway for a moment.

“Are you sure I can’t get you some kind of refreshment? I’m putting the kettle on for myself, it won’t be any trouble.”

“No, no, it’s all right.” Issy was pointedly avoiding meeting his eyes, and Rumpelstiltskin had to wonder.

“I’m not going to dock your wages for having a tea break, Issy.”

She paused, and finally she looked at him properly.

“You’ve never called me Issy before.”

“I apologise. Mrs Chevalier.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. I prefer it. Sometimes it’s nice to be my own person.”

Rumpelstiltskin smiled. It was good to see that there was some of the old Belle buried inside there after all.

“So, about that cup of tea.”

Issy shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I don’t think that Gerry would like it.”

Of course. Gaston the jealous husband, controlling his wife’s life with an iron fist. A fresh wave of hatred towards Regina coursed through him, with a little left over for Gaston.

“Well, I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

Issy gave the ghost of a smile. “All right then.”

Rumpelstiltskin set about making a pot of tea whilst Issy continued to clean, and they sat down at the table together to drink.

“I’m beginning to wonder what’s got into you, Mr Gold,” Issy said presently, before blushing and trying to hide her face in her teacup. “Sorry. I’m beginning to wonder what’s got into me, too, asking inappropriate questions.”

The rest of the tea break passed in companionable silence, and Rumpelstiltskin could almost imagine that they were back in the Dark Castle, with Belle needling him to tell her the origins of one of the items in his collection, and Rumpelstiltskin muttering about curiosity killing the cat but ultimately always relenting and regaling her with the tale.

Belle had always been fascinated by his vast array of magical artefacts, and Rumpelstiltskin had to wonder if that was something else that had bled through under the curse.

“You know, Issy, I don’t think that my shop has had a proper clean since… Well, I can’t remember the last time that it saw a duster. If you’ve got some time in your schedule, would you be interested in becoming its caretaker?”

“I…” Issy looked out into the garden; her expression was almost wistful. “I do love looking at all the things in the window. I wouldn’t want to be in the way, though.”

“You wouldn’t be, I assure you. In fact, I’d be glad of the company.”

“Well, in that case I have a free slot on Wednesday afternoons, after I do the Sheriff’s station in the morning. Would that suit you?”

“Perfectly.”

Issy smiled. “I’ll see you then, Mr Gold.”

It became a standing date after that, although neither of them would ever call it a date. Rumpelstiltskin would spend the rest of the week trying to work out the best course of action when it came to the curse and how Emma could most effectively break it, but Wednesday afternoons were his time with Issy, watching as she relaxed within herself, her confidence growing as Belle began to assert her personality again.

It was a month into Emma’s stay when everything came to a head that, whilst not entirely unforeseen on Rumpelstiltskin’s part, was certainly a shock to the town, and a shock to Rumpelstiltskin himself in the manner of escalation.

It had been a normal Wednesday afternoon until Issy had realised the time and shrieked, immediately flying into a completely uncharacteristic panic, throwing all of her cleaning materials back into her box and careening out into the main shop from the back room where they had been enjoying their regular tea and conversation.

“Issy? What’s the matter?”

“If I’m not back home on time then I really don’t know what Gerry might do.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t get the chance to respond before the pawnshop door crashed open and Gerard Chevalier strode in.

“There you are. I was getting worried you’d had an accident.” The crushing grip that he took Issy’s wrist in proved that worry was far from his mind. He squeezed until she whimpered in pain, dragging her towards the door.

“Mr Chevalier,” Rumpelstiltskin began, but Gerard cut him off.

“My wife will no longer be working for you, Gold, and if you so much as breathe in her direction, I will kill you.”

He practically threw Issy out of the door in front of him, and Rumpelstiltskin felt the boiling rage cool and solidify. Something had to be done, low profile be damned, but it had to be something that wouldn’t put Issy in danger. Striking out against Gerard would only cause Gerard to strike out against Issy in retaliation. Rumpelstiltskin was going to have to be clever.

He had to wait a week before he could enact his plan: he had no idea of Issy’s schedule, and he never saw her out and about in the town. Still, he knew that Wednesday morning would find her at the Sheriff’s station, and he felt an unfamiliar nervousness as he pushed open the door. The sheriff was out, but Emma was there, her feet up on her desk as she waded through paperwork with Issy hoovering in the background.

“Good to see that our tax dollars are being put to good use here, Deputy Swan.”

Emma rolled her eyes and took her feet off the desk. “What can I do for you, Gold?”

“Actually, I’m here to see Issy. I have a business proposition for her.”

Emma shrugged and waved him through to where Issy was cleaning. She startled when she saw him.

“Mr Gold!” She looked around furtively, as if expecting to see Gerard hiding in a corner somewhere. “You really shouldn’t be here. You heard what Gerry said.”

“I know. I’ll take my chances. I won’t be a minute, I promise. I just thought that we could help each other out.” He held up the key to the library building. “I know how much you love books, and the library’s been shut up for longer than anyone can remember. I think you’d be the perfect person to get it up and running again.”

“Oh, Mr Gold, that’s so kind of you, but I really can’t, I mean…”

“There’s a small caretaker’s apartment that comes with it. If you ever decide you need your own space.” He didn’t say what he knew they were both thinking. If you ever want to leave your husband and you need a safe haven.

“Mr Gold, I…”

“Please, just think about it.”

He left the key on the windowsill, leaving Issy gobsmacked in the middle of the station.

Emma had seen the interplay between Gold and Issy on Wednesday morning. She’d always suspected that there was some kind of attraction between them, ever since she’d come to town and had first started getting a grip on the relationships between everyone, but Graham had always laughed it off when she’d mentioned it to him, joking about Gerry Chevalier not letting anyone near his wife.

Come the next day, it was no longer a joke.

It would have been a perfectly ordinary Thursday if Issy Chevalier hadn’t run into the station, covered in blood.

“Gerard’s going to kill Mr Gold!” she screamed.

Emma and Graham had both jumped up in alarm at the sight of Issy, and now that alarm had turned into calm and yet very intense panic.

“Issy, you’re bleeding.”

“Gerard locked me in the bathroom, I had to break the window to get out and I caught my arm on the glass. It’s nothing, it’s not important, what’s important is that Gerard has a gun and he’s going to kill Mr Gold!”

Graham was already on his way out to the cruiser and Issy went to run after him. Emma stopped her.

“Issy, you need to go to hospital; you’ll need stitches.”

“I’m fine! I have to go! This is all my fault!”

“Issy, I can’t have you putting yourself in more danger! If Gerard is angry and he’s already hurt you,” she looked at Issy’s bruised face and split lip, “then I dread to think what he might do to you if he’s got a gun in his hands.”

Graham had set off in the cruiser, siren blaring, but even that couldn’t mask the gunshot that rang out through the town.

Everything seemed so eerily silent after that, a perfect moment of pure stillness in which time itself seemed to stand still.

Then Issy ran, and Emma groaned, grabbing her gun and the Kevlar vest she’d never seriously thought that she’d need in a town as quiet as Storybrooke. It wasn’t surprising that Graham had rushed off with no back-up, but he needed someone covering him if he was going up against a madman with a rifle. Preferably a full SWAT team, but that wasn’t likely to happen. She got in the bug, flooring it until she caught up to Issy. Considering how much pain she had to be in, she was sprinting at a hell of a lick.

“Get in!”

Issy needed no further invitation and a minute later, they were parked up outside the pink house.

“No, no, no!” Issy flung herself out of the car and raced up the steps towards the front door before Emma could stop her. Thankfully, Graham already had Gerard disarmed and on the ground.

“Help Gold!” he yelled to her. “I’ve got this, the ambulance is on its way.”

Gold had been shot in the side; from the horrible wet wheezing of his breath, Emma guessed that the bullet was in his lung. Issy was putting pressure on the wound, tears streaming down her face as her blood mixed with his on her hands.

“No, no, please stay with me. Please, you’re the only person who’s ever cared about me. Please don’t go. Please. I love you.”

Gold wasn’t responding, his face pale and clammy and his eyes closed. He whispered something, but Emma couldn’t make it out. It sounded like bell.

Issy sobbed, leaning in to press her lips against his, and Emma had to catch herself as a sudden gust of wind almost blew her off her feet.

Then the ambulance arrived, and everything was hustle and urgency until it was just Emma and Issy on the steps, crouching in a pool of blood.

“Issy, we need to get you to the hospital too.”

“Belle.” Issy seemed to be in a daze, letting Emma get her to her feet and guide her down the steps towards the bug. “My name is Belle.”

Emma didn’t enjoy hospital waiting rooms at the best of times, but this one was particularly bad. She didn’t want to leave Issy alone, and she’d used the time to take a statement about the day’s events from her, but now all they could do was wait. Issy’s wounds had been stitched up and she’d been discharged, and now she was staring into space, hugging her knees. Once they had arrived at the hospital, she’d snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in and had answered all Emma’s questions perfectly lucidly, but Emma couldn’t help thinking that there was something else going on.

My name is Belle.

She thought about Henry’s book, about the fairy tales. Disney’s Belle. La Belle et La Bête. She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for that kind of speculation. Not when Gold – much as she might not like him personally – was undergoing emergency surgery, and Issy was sitting there waiting to hear if the man she loved was going to be ok.

Time ticked by. Graham called to say that Gerard had pleaded guilty to attempted murder at the charge, and he would be transferred to County the next day. Emma considered everyone else’s attempts to leave the town and wondered how successful that transfer would be. Still, that was a problem for tomorrow. She had other things to think about now.

Finally, a nurse came through to them.

“Mrs Chevalier? Mr Gold is out of surgery now. He’s pulled through well and the surgeon is hopeful that with time, he’ll make a good recovery.”

Issy let out a visible breath of relief. “Can I see him?”

“I’m sorry, it’s family only.”

“He doesn’t have any family,” Issy snapped. Her gaze was fierce and steady, and it surprised Emma. She’d never known Issy to act so assertive before. “The only person in the entire town who gives a crap about whether he lives or not is me.”

The nurse wavered for a moment before acquiescing, and Emma watched Issy leave after her.

There was definitely something going on, and she was certain it had to do with that unnatural gust of wind…

No one in Storybrooke minded when their buildings went uncleaned for the next few days. Although no one in town really liked Gold, most people agreed that shooting him was a bit extreme, and most people wanted Issy to be happy. If that was with Gold, then so be it.

Issy was certainly at her happiest when she was in the hospital at Gold’s bedside. Outside she was quiet and guarded, keeping herself to herself. Emma knew that she still hadn’t got to the bottom of everything, but for now, she’d let it lie. She glanced at the two of them through the door into Gold’s hospital room. She’d never seen two people so obviously besotted with each other and each so relieved to see the other in one piece.

Presently, Issy looked over and saw her through the glass. Emma waved guiltily and let herself in.

“Hi. Sorry to disturb. Issy, I need to talk to you about Gerard’s trial.”

“All right. I guess we’d best get this over with. I’ll see you tomorrow…” The final word was too quiet for Emma to hear, but she thought it was ‘Rumpel’.

Issy kissed Gold’s forehead and he smiled.

“Till tomorrow, Belle.”

Emma decided not to ask. If Mr Gold turned out to be the beast from Beauty and the Beast in Henry’s storybook, then she was going to have to seriously rethink her worldview.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Rumpelstiltskin #cursed Storybrooke #season 1 AU #domestic abuse cw #blood cw #graphic injury cw

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ashintheairlikesnow · 5 years

Text

Welcome to Surgery: Kauri

CW: MEDICAL WHUMP - includes muzzling, dehumanization, past noncon ref pet whump, and the leadup to hospital/surgery whump (which will be in Kauri’s next piece, just as a warning). Also some thoughts on an abusive relationship from the perspective of someone still trapped in the cycle of abuse. stay safe.

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @whimpers-and-whumpers, @whump-it, @lumpofwhump, @pumpkinthefangirl

“Aw, he’s sleeping.”

Kauri jerks awake at the soft male voice entirely too close to him, trying to pull away and curl up, turning his face against the cold tile floor with something like a whimper. He shivers in his regulation clothes, the thin white shirt and black shorts hardly enough against the chill in the stale, recirculated air coming from a vent somewhere up in the ceiling.

They had blindfolded him, after the last visit from the handlers, and in a room that is nothing but thin white light and identical white walls and 162 white tiles, he doesn’t really mind the darkness. At least it’s something different than the white.

He doesn’t want more handlers, more black sticks, more punishment that they keep telling him isn’t even his actual discipline. This isn’t the same place, they say. He’s not here for training. There will be a new kind of discipline, here.

His mind runs in circles, every day he’s stuck in the room where the light never changes, the tiles never count to any other number, and there’s not even a single black speck on the wall to think about. Only thinks about what he did wrong, and what they’ll do to fix it.

Discipline is a necessary and humane event ensuring the continued obedience and well-being of a pet

shut up shut up shut up

“Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” A hand moves roughly through his hair and Kauri flinches away, tries to twist himself free, lifts his hands to push at the stranger’s arms. Fingers twist into the clean, brittle black curls until his scalp hurts. “Hey. No, sir,” The voice scolds, like he’s a misbehaving dog. “We don’t do that here. Look, I don’t want to pull a handler in, but if I have to…”

Kauri goes very, very still, drops his hands back down immediately. Just as quickly as the sudden grip had tightened, it loosens and the hand starts petting him again.

Kauri gets it - he doesn’t try to escape this time.

“There you go,” The voice coos. “Good, good, 645898.”

He doesn’t know this voice at all, but it’s the first touch since he was brought back here - two weeks or three weeks or maybe just two days ago - that hasn’t involved hitting him with something. He takes a breath as the fingers relax and start carding through his curls again. He doesn’t know who it is, or what they’re going to do, but… it feels so good. So much better than everything else has felt. “Ssshhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, buddy. You worried about those big mean guards coming back? Don’t be scared, it’s just us, bud. Just us. We don’t even have those big old sticks, we’re the scientists. You can trust us.”

The voice isn’t familiar - but Kauri’s life has been reduced to pain and the chalky drink they give him instead of food. Maybe he has heard this voice before and he just doesn’t remember. The voice talks to him like he should know it, at least, and Kauri’s days have run together anyway.

They’re boiled down to daydreams about how good it had been with Owen, how nice Owen had been to him, and how much he wished he’d just… understood how fortunate he was. If he’d only been grateful for the life Owen gave him, for the way he touched him and treated him - if he’d only been grateful that Owen let him spend unsupervised time with another pet, this would never have happened.

This is what you get.

He’s here to be repaired, but no one will tell him what the repair is, exactly. They just leave him here in this room, and then they hurt him with the black sticks, and then they leave again. He hasn’t seen anyone from before, he doesn’t think - his original training is still fuzzy, beyond individual memories that come and go - except for a single handler.

It had been the one with dark hair and eyes and expensive black boots. He’d come by and smiled with the same sharp flash as the light off the edge of a knife. That handler came by to see him.

His own, Everly, didn’t. He’s not Everly’s trainee anymore - as far as he can tell, he’s not anyone’s actual trainee any longer. But… in a world both numbingly familiar and totally new, Kauri had sort of expected to see Everly as a part it, too.

No visit from him… but Handler Connor came by.

Long time no see, 645898. Did you miss our days together that much? Had to act up just so you could get sent back for disobedience and I could get you up against that wall again?

Y-you can’t touch m-m-me, they, they said I have to be, to be left al, alone… for, for s-s-surgery… He’d still been shaking from the last round of the sticks, the electricity that never seemed to stop racing through his nerves. Kauri hated what being shocked did to his voice, hated it.

No, you’re right. I don’t get to have all that much fun with you. I’m only here for a little… hello. Say hello, sweetness.

H-Hello… Hello, Handler.

Good. So you still know how to follow a real man’s order, at least. Honestly, I’m a little sad you didn’t get handed over to me for repair, but there’s always next time. I missed you. That son of a bitch they sold you to… he doesn’t know how lucky he is.

Kauri had swallowed against a weird feeling at the words, pressed with his back against the wall, Handler Connor in his space without quite touching him, his skin crawling and wishing for touch at the same time. The man who hurt him most here had said something Owen himself never had - that maybe Owen was the lucky one, and Kauri the gift.

H-How lucky… I am?

Oh, sweet thing. If I took you home you’d be trained for pain and I’d count my lucky fucking stars every day. Someone should tell you how perfect you are - those big eyes that get so scared, your hair, I know you’d bleed so well if you went to the right guy with the right knife… someone should tell you you’re perfect. It might as well be me.

He’d felt gratitude, at the closest thing to kind words he’d ever heard from a handler, and disgust at himself for being grateful - both in equal measure.

But… as nice as it was to hear, it isn’t true. Kauri is the one who should be grateful. Owen wants him back - Director Renford promised he did, she said Owen wants him back and even as Kauri, so he clings onto his name and onto how wonderful Owen is, not to want him refurbished after he broke his protocols so badly.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing this.” A second voice - female, maybe? - and Kauri twitches again. The hand gently petting through his hair pauses, and then pulls away, and Kauri fights an urge deep down to reach out and try to pull it back.

Please, please, someone be nice to me again. Someone touch me. Someone be kind. I feel like I’m not real unless someone is touching me.

“Doing what, Delevigne?”

“I don’t know… that. Interacting with them. It’s not like we’ll see him after his post-op care is over with. He’s just a number.”

“I mean, I know, but look, he’s so scared… poor little buddy. You just had a hard time following the rules, huh?” The hand pats through his hair one more time, and then Kauri feels fingers close around his arm, pulling him up. He goes willingly enough, turning his head slowly in the direction the man must be standing. It’s so cold in here that even just being near him is warmer than the air everywhere else, and Kauri unconsciously moves closer, almost pressing against his side.

“Man, gotta love how needy they get,” The man cooed. “He’s a sweetie, right?”

“He’s a skinny, is what he is,” The female voice says, flatly. “Was he skinny when he got here?”

“Yeah. He’s not too skinny, though, he’ll do fine on the table. I think he looks pretty good for his first week in R&D to be honest. They said his owner went a little crazy on him…” A fingertip traces along the dark, healing bruises at Kauri’s throat and he flinches away from it out of sheer surprise, blinking rapidly behind his blindfold. “I’d believe it.”

“That’s an owner for you. Roll of the dice, every time - and don’t tell the Director I said it, but it takes a certain kind of cold motherfucker to order a Romantic, if you ask me.”

“… don’t you own a Romantic, Delevigne?”

There’s a pause, and then a sort of brittle, cynical laughter. “I didn’t say I wasn’t one of those cold motherfuckers, Ty. I work long hours, no time for a relationship - so I bought one. Employee discount makes it a pretty decent investment, actually, especially if you have them trained for housework, too. Besides, I’m only home long enough to even see him awake like twice a week, so I figure he’s got it made. He and my cat are fucking inseparable. He doesn’t complain about it.”

A pause.

“Del, you and I both know they make sure the merchandise is good and grateful before they ever leave. How many of them even can complain? Can yours?”

“You know, I have no idea. I never asked. He’s a really good listener, though.”

The fingers that were so nice in his hair are suddenly back up on his skin, ghosting up Kauri’s cheekbones and around behind his head, untying the blindfold. Kauri blinks hard as his eyes have to adjust to the brighter light coming in behind them in the open doorway, hunching his shoulders just slightly away from the overwhelming sharp… cologne? bodywash? smell and presence of the man in front of him.

The woman is leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, short dark hair in a pixie cut and thick black glasses perched on her nose. The man has long hair pulled into a low bun at the back of his neck and a bright, engaging smile. Both of them are wearing long white coats with scrubs on underneath. They look more like actors playing scientists or doctors, like the scientists in Owen’s movies, than what Kauri thinks an actual scientist would look like.

There’s a flash, in Kauri’s mind, of a woman standing beside him as he sits on an examination table swinging small legs, getting to pick a toy out of a special box because he’d been so good during his checkup today, and Keira is off to the side playing with her dinosaur toy-

A blinding flash of pain and Kauri whimpers, clenching his eyes shut, as the memory is forced back behind the broken wall of his mind.

“Ooooh, what’s this? You okay, buddy?” Hand in his hair, taking his chin to turn him to look, and it never occurs to Kauri to try and fight the touch, because that’s what being a human pet is - you are touched, or not, and you have no control. He only nods, slowly, breathing in and out. The man takes both hands and begins to rub at his temples, and it feels… so good. “Trying to remember something, huh?” Kauri nods, slowly, keeping his eyes closed. “Well you should know better by now, little man. The whole point is to make sure you can’t do that. Take deep breaths, it’ll pass.”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk to them. This wastes so much time, we could have him halfway prepped by now.”

“Oh, shut up, Del. He’s freaking himself out. You have no heart, you know that?”

“Yeah. That’s why I work here, numbnuts.”

The man rolls his eyes, giving Kauri a bit of a wink, as though they’re conspiring together. Kauri only stares, wide-eyed, unsure how to handle this new type of person entirely unlike anyone else he’d ever met at the Facility. The man pulls his hands back. “There we go… better, right?” The man grins as Kauri slowly nods.

He has a wide mouth, and even with everything that has happened to him, Kauri nearly smiles back on instinct alone. The man’s expression is just that infectious.

The man steps back to look him over, suddenly businesslike. “All right, kiddo, enough time wasted. Let’s see you ready to go.”

Kauri swallows, moving into Position One, clasping one wrist with the other hand behind his back, lifting his chin without ever quite looking them in the eyes, either of them. “G-Good… morning,” He tries, and his voice is rough and hoarse - he’s been screaming too much, wearing his throat back to raw even as it heals from what Owen did.

But when they start hitting him, it’s hard not to scream.

“Mid-afternoon, really,” The woman says dryly. “But a good try, I’ll give you that, ‘898.”

“Look at you, being so good for us,” The man praises, his voice thick with patronizing, condescending affection. Kauri feels blood pooling in his cheeks even as he drops his eyes to the floor. Even Owen never talked to him like this. “What do you think, Del? Isn’t he so good?”

“I think I’m here to do a fucking job, not drool all over the merchandise,” the woman - Delevigne, apparently - says in a voice that is trying for annoyed but mostly landing on amused. “Honestly, Tyler, you spend so much time petting them, it’s a wonder you keep turning down the Director’s offers to give you one for a bonus.”

“Nah, I don’t want that kind of obligation in my life. Bring one home and you have to feed it, give it water…” Tyler frowns, considering. Kauri doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift position. His legs and feet tingle from getting up off the floor, and every once in a while he twitches, a little, an involuntary muscle spasm left over from all the electricity that’s been forced through his skin. Tyler moves up and around him in a slow circle, taking in the visible bruises, the healing marks around his bare neck. “Plus… you know I don’t really like that if you get one everyone assumes you’re sleeping with it.”

“Yeah, well, you and the Director are probably the only ones who don’t at least try it out. You like them so much- why not, Ty?”

“They can’t say no, Del, that’s why.”

“So? Isn’t… that kind of the fucking point?”

Tyler shook his head. “If they can’t say no, they can’t say yes. I’m not interested in taking someone home who can’t consent.”

“Oh, but performing surgery on them-”

“That’s different. What we do here is important work, we’re making really important scientific discoveries about human behavior modification that could impact the industry for decades.” Tyler finally stops, back around in front of Kauri, and reaches out, lifting his chin slowly with two fingers. “Besides, this guy signed a contract.”

None of us ever remember the signing. I bet he knows why we don’t remember signing.

Kauri’s eyes raise and finally meet Tyler’s.

Shining, warm brown, but not the right kind of brown. Not dark and intense, but open and light and all these new eyes do is remind Kauri of what his stupid fucking aberrant behavior cost him… his chance to have something just for him, even if it had been in passing, in private, in the quiet mornings before Owen woke up.

With an aching heart, Kauri looks from the man - Tyler - to the Delevigne woman, waiting for an order, for some idea of what to expect.

Tyler pats him on the back, a little too hard, and he laughs when Kauri stumbles and catches himself, forcing his spine back to straight. “Sorry, bud,” He says in a tone that suggests he doesn’t actually care at all. “Okay, 645898, you need to head to the OR to get prepped. Now normally there’d be more of us involved - you’d have nurses, couple of handlers. But the Director wants this hush-hush, so Del and I are it as far as getting you into the room today. Can you handle that? Can you follow us like a good boy?”

Kauri bites back some hint of himself - of who he really was, maybe - that wanted to snap if you stop talking to me like I’m a dog, I’ll get right on it. All he does is look between the two of them again and slowly, carefully nod.

“I can follow you.”

Just because they aren’t handlers doesn’t mean they won’t have the black sticks, or some other way to hurt him.

When the Delevigne woman twists herself around to grab something that must have been hanging on the hooks outside his door, Kauri feels his stomach drop. “W-wait-” He whispers, barely able to manage even that much of a protest. He’s not drugged, but he’s hungry, they haven’t given him any of the chalk-drink since yesterday. The world is seems to smudge itself, a little, around the edges. “Wait, I’ve never w-w-worn, never-… I’m not a, a biter!“

Just the once, only the one time, and he had learned his lesson after that.

“Ssssshhh.” Tyler’s voice stays soft and saccharine even as he moves around behind Kauri, pulling his wrists behind his back. It never occurs to Kauri to fight him. “Sorry, bud, I’m sure this is all super new to you, but if we’re not going to have handlers to help us, we have to take some extra precautions.”

“But, but I don’t bite,” Kauri whispers.

“I know, buddy, I know. Look, you have to wear one for surgery, anyway, so we might as well get you ready now, huh? Think of it as saving you some time later on, okay?”

Kauri has never actually had to wear what Delevigne holds in her hands before, but he’s seen them on other boys, the ones who had a reputation for biting. The ones who tore skin, did real damage, who weren’t so easily drugged into the pliable, loose-limbed empty boxes they could build into perfect little-

Stop it, stop it, this is how you got sent back here, don’t think like that don’t think

Owen doesn’t want you to think

You weren’t made to think

He manages a nod, just to show he’s listening, wide blue eyes focused absolutely on the black straps and dangling, unattached mask hanging from Delevigne’s hand as she steps closer to him. Behind the dark glasses, her eyes are distant, businesslike. She looks beyond him, not directly at him.

“All right, 645898. Open up. Tyler’s a nice guy-” Tyler squeezes the hands holding his wrists twice, as if in emphasis, but all it does is hurt and Kauri winces. Some of the trainees are good at taking pain, it’s all they ever do, but Kauri isn’t trained for it. “-but I’m not a guy and I’m not nice. So open up.”

Kauri’s heart is pounding, but he slowly hesitantly opens his mouth.

The cylinder of heavy, slightly soft plastic slips between his teeth too easily, pressing lightly against his tongue with a faint chemical taste. When she tells him to close, he feels the solid plastic give just slightly between his teeth.

“You’ll be able to bite down on this when the pain is bad,” Delevigne tells him, looking it over thoughtfully. “Trust me when I say you’ll want that option, because the pain will be bad. We’re only allowed to give you a local anesthetic this time.”

“We are?” The man behind Kauri speaks right in his ear and Kauri jumps in nervous surprise “Oh, sorry, buddy. You didn’t know I was this close, huh?” He laughs again, and his laugh is odd and hard to understand - it sounds nice, but he is holding Kauri’s wrists behind his back while Del fastens the straps around his head, forcing the bit in further as she tightens them, until it pulls at the edges of Kauri’s mouth, making them ache.

He’s never worn a muzzle before.

One comes with the box the new owners get, but Owen had thrown his away.

What’s the point if I don’t get to hear you? He’d asked a newly-woken Kauri, who had still been blinking sleepily at him, trying to shake off the transport drugs, sweaty and so, so glad that he’d been given to his owner at last.

Once it’s fastened, he stares a little blankly, biting down on the plastic to test it, trying to move his tongue to get more comfortable. The black mask section is added, clipped onto little hooks on either side along his cheek, and fresh air comes only through small holes punched into the front.

Not that the air here is ever fresh.

“There, how’s that?” Tyler asks brightly. Kauri has no idea what he expects, exactly - he can’t talk, he can barely get enough air to breathe. The straps are too tight along the back, and the corners of his mouth are already aching.

He plays it safe and nods, but his heart is beating too hard, and he’s sure - so sure - the scientists can hear it in the perfect silence of his room, broken only by the soft constant ssshhhhhhh of the ventilation system.

“Perfect. All right, let’s get you moving, bud.” Tyler grabs him by one arm and pulls him and Kauri stumbles along behind, leaving the room and feeling suddenly an absurd wish to turn around and go back to it, to the tenuous safety of 162 tiles and the flat matte white and the light that never fades or changes.

He knows his room - but he doesn’t know where they are taking him, and he doesn’t know what happens next.

He shivers in the cold air, walking between them, his eyes moving to take in details of a part of the Facility he’s never really seen. The interiors of the holding rooms all look the same as everywhere else, but there’s color here - color-coded folders hang next to doors, muzzles hang off hooks. Now and then a number is scrawled on a dry-erase board next to a door - if he doesn’t look right at it and doesn’t try to know what the numbers are, it doesn’t hurt him to make the observation - and Kauri wonders if there are others here, listening to the shuffle-scrape of the pulling him down the hallway.

“Now, you should expect a lot of pain, like we said,” Tyler says, a spring in his step. Delevigne walks beside him without any perceptible emotion on her face, even though Kauri steals glances when he thinks she’s not looking. She looks like she’s thinking, like she’s somewhere deep inside her head. “A lot of pain. Normally we like to knock ‘em out for stuff this invasive, but the Director was pretty… adamant, and honestly, 645898, you do not want to piss her off, not even if you’re us.”

That he understood, and Kauri nodded quickly to agree with him, making a low, affirming noise in his throat. Tyler grinned and slapped him on the back encouragingly, nearly knocking him off his feet.

Delevigne caught him by his other arm, rolling her arms. “Hey, don’t damage the fucking merchandise before we’ve even finished the prototype, dumbass.”

“Whoops, sorry. You’re okay, aren’t you, ‘898?”

Kauri nods quickly, but his eyes are still scanning the hallways. As they turn a corner, the white walls are suddenly blue, and he feels assaulted by the color, even though it’s not all that bright. Blue walls with photos hung at regular intervals, of people doing important scientific work, he thought. Lots of people in the same white long coats Tyler and Delevigne wore giving a thumbs-up next to dazed-looking trainees.

Director Renford pops up in one photo, standing next to a kneeling man with short dark hair. Kauri stumbles to a stop, and the two scientists stop with him, shooting each other a look of something like curiosity, then looking back to him.

The tall dark-haired man has darker eyes, too, although Kauri can’t tell what color they are from the photo. Director Renford looks… young, even though he can tell it’s her. She has long hair in a braid, and her hand lays along the back of the kneeling man’s neck in an obvious display of possession.

Kauri wants to ask, but all he can do is make a muffled, curious sound and point.

Delevigne snorts. “The Director’s first, I think. Ten. He was the tenth successful trainee or something? I don’t know, we have to do a whole… orientation packet with company history, but I’ll be honest - I took a lot of smoke breaks that day.”

“I didn’t,” Tyler says. “I remember most of it. Poor bastard signed his fucking life away thinking they were going to fix his anxiety disorder. Now he balances her goddamn checkbook.”

“I heard a rumor once that he, uh, balances more than that, if you get my drift. Apparently the Director is generous with her friends. Besides, he’s less anxious now, isn’t he?” Delevigne laughs, and Tyler laughs, and Kauri wants to shrink into the floor until he disappears, but there’s nowhere to escape to. All he does is look at the kneeling man’s dark eyes and try to find some sign of life there, stare and stare at the blank expression and Director Renford’s hand on the back of his neck, her self-satisfied little smile, until finally they yank him by the arm and pull him away.

Three cheers for tyranny, unapologetic apathy, sings some ghostly voice in the back of his head, a song he’s never heard and doesn’t know… but maybe he knew before. His head starts to hurt, at least, usually a sign that he’s trying to dig something out from the wall, something that isn’t ready to break free.

They turn another hallway - this one is painted a soft pastel yellow, has more photos on the walls. Now he can see that the rooms have open doors and carpeted floors. They’re offices, with great wooden desks and warm lamps and decor. Some of the desks have people sitting at them, shuffling papers or signing things, typing away at computers. When the people look up, they don’t look at Kauri but through him, the way Delevigne does. They call their greetings to the scientists holding him, but no one stops working, and Delevigne and Tyler don’t stop walking.

Another hallway, a soft dusty red. Now the rooms look like… hospital rooms at the clinic, the place Kauri hates most in the world beyond the Facility training rooms themselves. Each room has two hospital beds, curtains to draw around them, a bunch of machinery. He sees only one boy, lying on his back with some kind of thing down his throat, the soft hissss, hisssss of a machine moving.

“Shit, looks like 533456 isn’t looking any better,” Tyler mutters.

“Yeah, well, you can’t bash someone’s head into the wall that many times and expect them to pop right back up good as new,” Del says, with an angry edge to her voice. “Trainees are an investment. If I were the Director, I’d sue for damages, not just fire the stupid bastard.”

Tyler laughs, and it’s not the soft, patronizing laughter he’s been using with Kauri but a harder-edged sound, and Kauri twists his head to look at him, anxious biting on the bit in his mouth, pushing into the plastic that gives only a little between his teeth. “I wouldn’t worry about that. That asshole’s good-looking and he’d make a good guard dog. I think the Director will get her investment back.”

Suddenly Kauri wondered, for the first time, what the guards signed when they agreed to work here. And what the Director would do to the guard who damaged company property badly enough to get fired for it.

Finally, they moved into a hallway painted a gentle gray, like a winter sky somewhere flat and frigid cold where Kauri thought, with a sharp stab of pain inside his skull, he might once have lived. It looks like the clouds when it snows, but Kauri has never seen snow except on the ski trips Owen takes, and in those places they are high up in the mountains and the skies don’t look the same up there.

No, this is like when Mom comes back from the diner and says, You remember old George VanHoorn, he says there’s snow coming. Man knows his skies, I guess I can’t disagree or I’ll owe him the next slice of pie-

Kauri groans, muffled, as the pain nearly knocks him off his feet, feeling like a blow inside his skull that throws him forward, only staying on his feet when Tyler and Delevigne hold him up, limp between them.

“He’s trying to think,” Delevigne says, disinterested. “I don’t have time for that, we have three surgeries today, and this is the one we have to nail. I am not letting this little asshole get me dragged in front of the Director for failing to meet expectations.”

“He’s fine,” Tyler says, just a little defensively, and leans over to pet through Kauri’s hair, holding him gently as he gets his feet back underneath him, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as his world spins with agony. He can’t remember any longer what it was that caused the pain, only that he had done something wrong, tried to remember something he wasn’t supposed to know. “You’re okay, right, buddy? Not gonna mess up our schedule today, are you?”

Kauri shakes his head rapidly, blinking away the tears, making low hnnnh, hnnnnh, hnnnnh noises behind the muzzle, struggling to take enough air in by sucking it through his teeth and breathing through his nose to stop feeling the world’s sick-dizzy spin around him.

“Good boy, that’s what I thought. All right, bud…” They all but drag him further down the hallway, Kauri struggling to get his feet back under him, bare heels smacking into the floor unevenly. Then they stop in front of a big set of wide double-doors, open to show a room larger than four or even five of the training rooms inside.

There’s a hospital bed there, already. A large sort of metal table that’s bolted into the floor. There are machines everywhere.

Kauri tries to take a deep breath, but he can’t. So he takes several shallow ones, and the world spins again. His heart pounds in his chest, tries to break through, has to settle for nearly bruising his breastbone. The hands on his arms tighten, become inexorable, inescapable.

On a small table on wheels next to the metal table, there’s a tray with a stippled, textured pale blue paper laid out on it. On top of the paper there’s a series of things Kauri vaguely recognizes from Owen’s movies and TV shows as surgery tools - he can see what he knows is a scalpel, actually two scalpels. He can see some tools he doesn’t know, too.

And next to the tools is something he doesn’t recognize at all - it looks like a necklace made up of small flat circles with blue stones in the middle, but the connection isn’t thread or chain but wires.

There’s a loud beep from somewhere nearby, and Kauri nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Welcome to surgery, little buddy,” Tyler says, in a low sweet voice.

“Let’s get you on the table,” Delevigne says, kicking the doorstops so the double-doors swing closed behind him and latch with an audible click.

“Let’s get me my promotion,” Tyler laughs, and Kauri can barely walk as they drag him towards the table.

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