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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 4 years

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•When You Fall Asleep On Them w/ Oikawa, Kenma, Atsumu, Terushima, and Tendou•

warnings: a few curse words

genre: fluff

characters: oikawa, kenma, atsumu, terushima, + tendou

•Oikawa•

your exhaustion was clear on your face as you slumped down against the wall of the gym, settiling your tired body on the floor

you loved the seijoh boys to death but they really wore you out sometimes

to be fair, they weren’t so bad most days you guys had practice

but every so often they had you so drained by the end of the day you could barely keep your eyes open, like today for example

“Y/N-chan!”

you recognized the sweet voice meeting your ears but to acknowledge it would require energy you just didn’t have

oikawa slid down beside you, hair still damp after rinsing off his post practice sweat

he knew how exhausting everyone could be and honestly he was surprise that you hadn’t quit the position, but he was glad you decided to stick around for so long

an arm snaked its way around your shoulder before giving your arm a few gentle rubs,

“I think everyone worked really hard today, don’t you?”

to tired to respond, you opted for a simple nod before leaning your head on oikawa’s shoulder

he was suprised at first, not really used to this side of you, but a smile found it’s way onto his face as he felt your warmth slowly take over him

eventually, your breaths slow to a steady rhythm, signaling to oikawa that you finally stopped trying to fight the exhaustion that had plagued you

he maneuvered your figure so that you were lying in his lap, eyes fluttering ever so slightly as you subconsciously allowed yourself to adjust to the lighting change

affection was the only thing written on the boy’s face as he watched soft breaths flow in and out of your parted lips

a few moments later, the rest of the team started filing out of the gym, confusion quickly filling the air as oikawa smiled down at your sleeping form

iwaizumi seemed the most agitated with this development,

“What the hell did you do to them, shitty-kawa?”

“Hm? Me? I didn’t do anything at all. If you wanna put the blame on someone it should be on all of you, poor y/n-chan has to deal with so much.”

“Cut the crap, they have to deal with your sorry ass the most.”

a light laugh escaped his lips before he peered down at you once more, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead

“I guess you’re right, in that case i’ll lock up and walk them home when they wake up. I wanna let them rest a little while longer.”

iwaizumi sighed and reluctantly threw him the keys to the gym before leaving with the rest of the team

as soon as the door to the gym was shut, oikawa took a quick glance around to make sure there was no one remaining before leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead

he knew that tomorrow he would never hear the end of this, but in that moment he couldn’t care less, he was happy just being there with you

•Kenma•

you loved spending saturdays playing video games with kenma, it was your favorite activity to do after such a long and stressful week

even so, by the end of the week you were drained, and sometimes you got sleepy

especially when kenma began playing a more lowkey game and his sighs of frustration and mumbled strings of curses became absent

silence tended to fall over the room when that was the case, causing your brain to shut down faster then you wanted it to

you sat next to kenma and peered over at his switch, watching with lidded eyes as his character moved about the screen

the colors began to swirl together as you were dragged deeper into sleep

kenma was too focused on the task at hand to notice your sleepy state, let alone the way your head fell ever so gently on his shoulder

after a while he returned his character home and paused the game, handing the switch to you,

“Here Y/N, it’s your turn.”

still feeling the device heavy in his hands he peered down at your sleeping figure, just now realizing why the atmosphere seemed quieter then usual

he froze and a soft blush crept on his face before he set the switch aside

you had fallen asleep on these days before but never so close to him and now he had no idea what to do

he didnt want you to be uncomfortable but he also didnt want to risk waking you up and ruining your much needed sleep

eventually his body moved for him as he crossed one leg under the other and gently moved you so that you were lying down on his thigh

he scrolled through his phone while you slept, mindlessly running his fingers through your hair as his eyes danced along his screen

he knew when you woke there would be a string of apologize falling out of your mouth but he didn’t mind the soft snores that escaped your lips

besides, the two of you had the rest of your lives to play video games together

all he cared about in that moment was that you were taken care of

•Atsumu•

you and atsumu had ate lunch on the roof every friday since the two of you had become friends in middle school

it was a long standing tradition, one that the two of never missed no matter the circumstances

it was peacful, no one else but your friends ever knew so the two of you were never bothered

and it was always a nice way to relax and enjoy each other’s company without having to worry about the twin’s fighting, kita lecturing you about table manners, or suna just being a plain instigator

the two of you typically spent the period laughing and conversing but that particular friday, you lacked the energy to even keep your eyes open, let alone act so lively

your exhaustion was plain to see and definitely gave atsumu some room to poke fun at you,

“Sleepy, aren’t we Y/N? I mean, I can see your under eye bags from here.”

you angrily mumbled something under your breath at the statement before rubbing your eyes in attempt to wake yourself up more

atsumu ruffled your hair and laughed at your antics, throwing a few more snarky comments at you

he returned to his lunch soon enough, continuing the story he was previously retelling before you could throw a fit from your lack of sleep

as he was reaching the end of his tale, he felt his legs being tugged at, jumping a bit at first before he realized your hand was the one attached to his ankle

“Whatcha doin there Y/N?”

you ignored his question, choosing to pull his legs until they were lying straight and settling yourself down to lie in his lap instead

“Tsumu, wake me up before we have to get to class, please.”

as you began to slip out of consciousnesses, atsumu felt his eyes begin to water

if anyone else saw him, they would’ve made fun of him but he couldn’t help himself, he felt so happy that you trusted him enough to be this vulnerable around him

he knew he could be a pain in the ass sometimes but he never felt like a bother when he was around you, you loved him for who he was

it was a miracle you had remained friends with him for so long but as long as you did, he would do his best to make sure that pretty smile always returned to your face

before he could wake you up with his cries, he cleared his throat and began to softly rub your back and he stared out among the trees,

“No problem Y/N, you can count on me.”

•Terushima•

you had practically got on your hands and knees and begged terushima to help you study for your upcoming exam

he was one of the smartest people you knew and with how awful you were with the subject the test was on, it would’ve be a crime not to ask him for help

luckily for you, when you timidly asked for his help, he agreed to take some time out of his day to tutor you this week

which is why you felt awful once your thoughts beginning to haze and your eyes began to grow heavy

you couldn't even pay attention to the anxiety that had previously been gnawing away at you, let alone whatever the hell terushima was going on about

in your defense, school was absolutely exhausting today and you didn’t expect yourself to be this out of it by the time you arrived at terushima’s house

he noticed your fatigue right away, he way your head swayed back and forth as if you were in a daze was hard to miss

his first instinct was to laugh at how adorable you were but he chose to take a more gentle approach to the situation,

“You alright there, baby? We can take a break if you need one.”

you shook your head and gripped your pencil tighter, trying your best to copy down notes without falling face first into your text book

he smirked and playfully rolled his eyes before sliding more notes in your direction,

“Suit yourself.”

not even ten minutes after you expressed your determination to the boy, terushima felt a weight fall onto his shoulder

he let out a chuckle at your unconscious state, knowing that this was soon to come

he wrapping an arm around your shoulder and carefully pulled you down onto the bedroom floor with him, comfortably repositioning you

in this new position, your head was on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your torso while the other sat comfortably behind his head

“If you were tired, you could have just told me.”

although he knew you could hear him, the words left his mouth in a whisper before pulling you close and closing his own eyes

in all honesty, he didn’t mind this series of events, just happy to have you here with him

and besides, this gave him an excuse to schedule another study date

•Tendou•

carnivals and fairs came to your town quite often and every time they did, tendou loved to bring you along

the two of you had loved to go ever since you were little kids so the memories it brought back was enough of a reason to blow your money on tickets and food

it was a chance of the two of you to forget about any worry or zees and just let yourself be kids again

and to tendou, it was always worth seeing the smile on your face as you glanced around at the scenery, eyes gleaming under the flashing lights

as much fun as they were, he knew how much they tired you out

every time the two of you ran off to one, he always ended up taking you inside at the end of the night and helping you through your nightly routine, but he didn’t mind this in the slightest

he was happy to help and besides, you were the clingiest when you were on the brink of sleep, which he found absolutely adorable

“Y/N, did you have fun tonight, hm?”

he took a glimpse of you in the passenger seat before returning his eyes to the rode ahead, one hand on the steering wheel and the other settled comfortably on your leg

mind clouded with sleep, you took the hand that sat on your knee and held it in yours, examining the polish you had painted on them earlier that week through blurry vision,

“Mhm.”

tendou took another glance at you before grinning at your tired state,

“I’m glad, i had lots of fun too! We’ll have to bring Ushiwaka next time, he’s never been to one of those-“

before he could finish his sentence, he felt his hand being hugged to your chest

turning his head to the side once more, he realized you had curled up on the passenger seat and were now fast asleep, cuddling his arm as if it was a stuffed animal

a laugh escaped his lips at how quick you were to drift off to your dream land

as his eyes focused on the dimly lit pavement, he admired how sweet your display of affection was, feeling your love spread throughout his entire body

he slowed his speed, careful not to hit any bumps or holes on the way home in fear of waking you

once the two of you got to his house, he gently carried picked you up and carried you inside, setting you on his bed as soon as he stepped though the door

before he could grab a blanket and head to the couch, your arms found their way around his torso as you buried your face into his chest before drifting back into your deep sleep

a smile spread across his face before placed a kiss on the top of your head and carefully lying down next to you, allowing himself to close his eyes and enjoy this moment with you

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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Let the Dead Weep | Jimin

→ summary: jimin falls in love the only way he knows how: catastrophically. your heart ends up as collateral damage.

→ genre: royal guard!jimin, princess!reader, angst → warnings: jimin is cold-hearted but only because he’s afraid, jungkook tries his Best to pick up the pieces, heart ache city babey! → words: 5.6K → a/n: this was commissioned by the wonderful @kookiebunnii!! thanks again for giving me the freedom to write my own wips (this is admittedly Very old... so old that i almost forgot this existed in my drafts lol) i hope you like it bc this one is prime zee angst propaganda... sorry jimin but i had to do it to ya (again)

The sound of clicking heels is an unusual occurrence at the royal training grounds. Accustomed to the cacophony of grunting men and clashing swords, Prince Jungkook does not immediately notice that something (or rather, someone) is out of place.

“Your defenses are down.” Jungkook thrusts his sword forward, disarming his sparring partner in one smooth motion. Surprised, his partner yelps as his sword clatters to the ground, his now empty hands raised awkwardly in befuddlement. But his shock does not last long, as his previously occupied gaze returns to where it was, his jaw agape as he continues to stare somewhere just outside the courtyard.

When Jungkook turns his head to the source, he finally understands why he had so easily defeated his distracted opponent.

Your bright white summer dress stands out starkly against the dreary autumn scenery, your skirt bunched up to your knees to avoid tripping over yourself. It seems as though the world has gone still from shock, every man in the vicinity holding their breaths at their first glimpse of the princess from up close. Even from where he stands, Jungkook can see the sweat flowing freely from your temples as you rush towards them, your chest heaving as you dash past dozens of starstruck onlookers towards your destination.

You don’t even spare Jungkook a glance when you pass by him, your eyes trained somewhere behind him as though nothing (or rather, no one) else in the courtyard matters. “Jimin!” you call out, nearly collapsing onto the man you had been looking for as you fail to stop your momentum in time. Luckily, the head of the royal guard catches you effortlessly, his hand previously resting on the hilt of his sword jumping up to find its place on your waist to steady you.

Jungkook watches as Jimin’s gaze sweeps through the sea of heads before landing on him. The guard’s posture stiffens, jaw clenching as the two men size each other up. Eventually, Jimin drops his hand from your waist as if he’d been burned, taking an inconspicuous step back to regain some sort of respectable distance.

Jimin clears his throat, his expression as stern as ever. It only takes a single glare from him for the excited whispers to die in a second. “Well? Did I tell you to stop? Take your positions,” he growls. In an instant, the men around Jungkook rise back to action, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing loudly once more.

“Your Highness? Shall we continue?” The boy he had been sparring with speaks out hesitantly, breaking Jungkook’s trance. Jungkook blinks slowly in confusion, before remembering where he was and what he was doing. He takes one last glance at Jimin’s and your retreating forms, only managing to glimpse the trail of your skirt as Jimin quickly drags you away from prying eyes.

“Your Highness?” the boy repeats, more nervously this time. Jungkook fixes a smile on his face before turning to face him, gently patting the young boy on the shoulder with the ease and charisma only a prince could manage.

“Yes, let’s continue. On your guard,” Jungkook warns, poising his sword forward before taking the first strike.

x x x x x

Jimin drags you away to the nearby armory, causing a domino of shields to topple down in his haste to open the door. He shuts it closed, not bothering to find a light as he pulls you deeper into the large shed. Only the small window by the roof sheds any light for them to see, but it’s enough for you to see the barely concealed annoyance set in Jimin’s eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking? That was highly inappropriate for a princess,” he growls, lips downturned in a frown. He might be well-known amongst his men as a stern and unforgiving captain, but he has never been gruff with you. In any other scenario, you might have been shocked at his sudden change of face, but the news that you just heard from your father is still ringing loudly in your ears, distracting you from anything else.

“What am I thinking? I should be asking you that! How is it that despite being the princess of this damn kingdom, I am still the last to know anything around here?” you shriek, ignoring Jimin’s silent pleas for you to quiet down. No, you are done being quiet; if you had to choose a moment to you would throw away all etiquette classes out the window, it would be now.

Jimin heaves a sigh, rubbing his temples. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, interrupting him. You hold up a finger when he makes a move to argue. “No, you answer my questions, first and foremost. Why did I only find out from my father just now that you volunteered to get stationed at the border?” You can feel your face heating up from the frustration and betrayal you feel; blood rushes up to your head and leaves you feeling dizzy, but you refuse to stop until he budges.

You’re breathing heavily, speaking so quickly that you doubt you’re making any sense right now. “The king requested for volunteers to fill the station guard units over a month ago. We’ve met and seen each other multiple times since then, and yet here we are,” you spit out, jabbing a nail into his chest. He barely budges, only keeping his head lowered. “Huh? Why on earth would you keep this from me? Answer me, Park Jimin!”

Jimin grimaces, his face contorting as if he’s in pain. He does not make a move to reply, only continues to avoid your fierce gaze. But even from where you stand under this dim light, you can tell from his expression that he isn’t guilty—just forlorn. Heartbroken, even.

You swallow thickly, blinking rapidly to keep your angry tears at bay, but your voice still cracks when you ask, “Why won’t you say anything?”

Finally, he looks at you. “What else is there to say?” He sounds as defeated as you feel.

And yet, you’re flabbergasted. You’re angry, tired, and hysterical—but above all else, you’re hurt. It feels as though a massive rock has dropped in your stomach, crashing waves against your chest like fire licking at your bones. The heavy feeling that has been weighing on you finally has a name, as you have been fighting to ignore what it was for ages now. Deep down, you know that this is inevitable, but somewhere inside you still resides the six-year-old child entrenched in her happy fairy tales, the same girl who believes that good things will always happen to good people.

You hoped that you would have at least deserved a warning. Preparation before this mirage disappeared forever. But Jimin had always been the type to rip the bandage and muscle through the pain, so you shouldn’t have been surprised at all. You just hoped that the two of you would still have more time.

A naive thing to desire, as Park Jimin was never yours to call your own.

You’re struggling to find the words to speak, anything to convince him to stay, even if you know it is not your place. He can see you grappling for straws, and perhaps it is out of pity or self-preservation, but he does not mention it. He does not say anything about you at all.

Eventually, he speaks. “I am… I have to...” He hesitates for a moment, taking one short glance at you before staring at the door. His hand grips the hilt of his sword tightly, though you know it is not because he itches to wield it, but for his ease of mind. You have learned, after years of growing up with him, that his only comfort comes from his own strength, his own ability to control his fate.

“Unfortunately, I must leave for now, Your Highness. Let us speak about this later before my subordinates begin to wonder.” There is a heaviness in his tone when he says that, like it is disgraceful for you to be seen with him. It reignites the fire in your veins once more, and you reflexively reach out to grab his retreating shoulder before the shed is suddenly bathed in light.

“Princess Y/N? Are you alright?” Prince Jungkook stands by the entrance of the armory, sweaty hair matted to his skin from his morning practice routine. For a moment, you almost hate the way he had sounded so… well-meaning, even though he had done nothing wrong to spite you. In fact, Jeon Jungkook has always been the perfect filial son, someone any royal family would be proud of.

And unfortunately for you, that was quite possibly the only reason you were betrothed to him in the first place.

You see him eye the pair of you curiously, his gaze gradually coming to a stop where your hand still rests against Jimin’s shoulder. You retract it immediately as if burned. You clear your throat, curtsying respectfully to him. “I am fine, Prince Jungkook. I am sorry for the scene I caused. I hope I did not interrupt your daily practice,” you say carefully, folding your hands in front of you.

Jungkook nods silently, his expression giving nothing away. Feeling awkward under his scrutiny, you curtsy to him once more. You shuffle away from Jimin without sparing him another glance, but you feel his gaze trained on your back like a brand. You wait for Jungkook to allow you to pass him before scuttling away, the ends of your dress dragging across the dirt path as you rush back towards the castle.

Stupid of you.

Jimin had been right, like always. News spreads fast within these ancient walls, and the chatterings about your emotional display are sure to reach your father’s ears one way or another. You doubt he’d be surprised by it; it’s no secret that your affections have always lied heavily on the royal guardsman. As long as you kept your secret rendezvous a secret, the King is more than happy to turn a blind eye. A reward, perhaps, for keeping your side of the deal.

Except that side of the deal hadn’t meant to arrive until your older brother had been wed, right after his search for his queen consort had been completed. But Jungkook’s family had been adamant to move things along, most likely due to their desperation to form an alliance with your prominent kingdom. As the seventh son, Jungkook hardly had any use for them in their household other than being goods for barter, and in any other case, you might have felt bad for him.

The guilt feels like a dagger pressing itself against your throat, and yet, you do not have the courage to fight against it. You sigh, defeated, as you stay reclused in your bedroom, waiting for Jimin to join you.

You don’t join your family for lunch that afternoon: a bigger mistake on your part, as it probably incriminates you further. Even worse still, Jungkook and his escorts are guests at the palace, and your absence doesn’t look good for your reputation. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to care that day, only offering weak excuses about a headache to appease them.

To your surprise, Jungkook had vouched for you, according to your handmaiden. When you asked what he said, they said he had mentioned something about your pensiveness from this morning. You scoff, wondering if he must be covering your mistake for the sake of your future together.

The sun makes its way across the horizon and still no signs of Jimin visiting your quarters. You pace your room for so long that you fear leaving the carpet threadbare, your restlessness causing spikes of fear to trickle down your spine. Your entire body tingles with the need to do something, anything. Just to feel as though you still have some control, some sense of sanity.

By your dresser, your untouched violin sits, waiting forlornly for your hands to caress it once more. It is a gift from your mother for your birthday, though you have scarcely used it since then. You have always been talented with the violin, but the need to play it had died down once your days had been occupied with a different type of music—the sort of melodies that you could not pull from strings or brass.

You pluck the violin from its stand, the polished wood still smelling of varnish when you place it by your neck. You begin to play a piece from memory—a song that your tutor had once drilled into your head until your hands could move on their own. Even still, you love the piece with all your heart; the melancholy and longing of the notes resonate deeply within you.

You know that what you are doing is cruel, both to yourself and to him. With your window wide open, you are sure that the wind can carry your music to the royal offices, where Jimin is sure to hear it. Anyone would be able to tell that it is you playing, stringing note after note with hopeless abandon. Just to get a reaction, from anyone. Anything!

So deeply are you immersed in your playing that it takes a moment for you to notice the knocking. Your bow stills mid-way, your breath hitching when the knocking continues. “Just a moment,” you call out, hastily placing your violin back on your dresser before ripping open the door to find—

Prince Jungkook still has his hand poised to knock, not having anticipated you to open your door so quickly. “Oh, pardon me. I am so sorry to intrude on your playing. Have I come at a bad time?”

Your shoulders slacken, and your disappointment could not be more apparent. “Oh.”

Prince Jungkook smiles wryly, not appearing to be offended by your less than enthusiastic greeting. “I know that it is improper of me to ask, but could you invite me into your quarters for a moment? I would like to speak to you, if you would allow it.”

“Why would it be improper? We’re promised to each other anyway,” you reply bitterly, the words coming out before you can think twice.

Jungkook cringes, bowing his head sadly. “I suppose that is a bad thing, isn’t it?”

It is impossible not to feel bad after that, your face flushing deeply with shame. “Not exactly…” You offer an awkward smile to compensate, but you doubt that it reaches your eyes. You step aside, allowing him to enter. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

His long legs allow him to take only two strides to reach the center of your room, his large frame engulfing the space. It almost feels suffocating, being here with him. Your mind unhelpfully compares him to the other only man who has ever entered your room, a man who had a much more lithe figure to the one with you right now.

You notice how he scans your room with sharp eyes, how he locks onto your violin immediately. He moves towards it and makes a motion as if to hold it, and after you give him your permission, he picks it up with reverence, turning it over with meticulous grace. “I was not aware that you were so gifted with musical talent,” he murmurs, plucking the strings experimentally.

You shrug, leaning against your door. “It was never brought up during our dinner conversations.” Not that much was said between the two of you during your meals together, as your father seems more interested in learning about Jungkook’s competency in politics than what his hobbies are.

He nods, absent-minded. He returns the violin to its proper place, his touch featherlike and graceful. He might be a violinist himself, you think. “That piece you were just playing… What was it called?”

A common question. “It’s a traditional song based on one of the kingdom’s myths,” you reply easily.

He nods again. “Why were you playing it?”

A less common question, one that you find more difficult to answer. “It… happened to be the first one I thought of, I suppose.” A half-truth, at the very least.

He hums thoughtfully, turning to you with doleful eyes. “Then I suppose that you must be grieving, are you not? if that is the sort of song that first comes to mind.”

You’re immediately defensive, curling into yourself as you watch him suspiciously. “My father… He told you, didn’t he?”

Even though you do not expound on what you mean, the prince is quick to shake his head in denial. “Nothing my eyes have not already seen.”

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, hackles rising as you size him up. “What do you want from me then? A confession? For me to go on my knees and ask for forgiveness?” you spit.

He stares at you, astonished. “Who am I to dole out absolution when I am but only a man?”

“So does that mean you have committed the same mistakes that I have? I find that hard to believe,” you scoff, lowering your guard in your annoyance. He’s only been in your room for a few minutes and already you tire of his company; you wonder how you’ll manage to keep your sanity while spending your life with him.

But in truth, even if he hadn’t irritated you, even if he was the nicest man in the world, he would never compare to the man you have already laid your heart with.

He shakes his head once more, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “Not quite, but I do understand what you’re going through. Somewhat.”

Somewhat, he says. The more you observe him, the more you realize how young he is. Not just in the way he appears, but also in the way he talks and moves, almost like the stars trapped in his eyes have yet to escape. You can imagine him falling for one of the servant girls back in his own palace, secretly swapping lovelorn gazes across polished halls. Unlike you, he must not have acted on his greed, knowing the extent of his responsibility to his house and kingdom.

Unlike you, he does not bear a cruel bone in his body, as he would never subject that poor girl to the sort of heartbreak that only a clandestine relationship could offer.

“I want to make myself clear to you, my princess. I did not come here to accuse you of anything. I came here because I wanted to make myself clear with you,” he says. You raise a brow, urging him to continue.

“I am not asking you to fall in love with me,” he says plainly. It surprises you greatly, to hear him speak so candidly. Ever the perfect politician, he’d only ever spoken with care and precision, always anticipating the other party’s reaction. You have spoken with enough visiting royals to know that he is well-versed in that sort of language, so to hear him speak so brazenly is almost refreshing.

“I wouldn’t have offered, regardless,” you respond, smirking sardonically. He laughs at that, and you can hear the honesty in his laughter, too.

“Fair. But for the sake of the people who put their faith in us, I would suggest,” he pauses, licking his lips as he mulls over his next words, “that we might be sincere with one another. Just so our union may not perish… prematurely.”

You don’t respond, scanning him for any ill intent. As a princess from an illustrious kingdom, you have needed to stave off numerous lords and princes from taking your hand for their own wicked gain. However, none of your previous suitors were like Prince Jungkook, who genuinely seemed to care greatly for his people, as seen by how kindly he has treated his entourage of helpers.

He waits for you to say something, but eventually, he continues, “Princess Y/N, it would be the greatest honor if you would allow me to know you better. I seek nothing more than your companionship.” He blushes slightly, coughing into his fists. “W-well, not that you owe me that, as we could very well live separately for the rest of our lives, but... Umm… That came out a little more awkward than I intended, but I hope you get the gist.”

You realize, then, that he desires to live peacefully with you—guilelessly and unselfishly. Perhaps he is doing this for his parents (highly likely), or perhaps he has no other choice (extremely likely). But the fact remains that in front of you stands a good man with a simple wish: to become friends with you, if not at least become amicable with one another.

“Then I suppose you want to know more about me? About my story?” you ask sarcastically. “Want to know why the eldest daughter of the king is off frolicking with the captain of his guard?”

Jungkook snorts, an easy smile on his lips. “Well, you could tell me that, but I was thinking more along the lines of ‘when did you learn to play the violin?’ and other neutral information. You know, like how normal people converse.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he had been making fun of you. “Hey, watch it, princeling. You’re not in the clear just yet,” you huff, but there is no bite to your bark. You can tell that he knows this, from the way his tense figure has relaxed tremendously in this short amount of time. You notice your own tension fading away too, if only infinitesimally.

“I can start if you want,” he hums, tapping a finger on his chin as he thinks. “Well, I have always wanted to tell you this, but you might think I might be buttering your ass if I did, pardon the language—”

You laugh loudly, baffled by his seemingly out-of-nowhere casual demeanor. In your bedroom, with his shoulders slackened and hair still disheveled from his morning practice, he looks nothing like the perfect prince you had boxed him in as. “Pardoned,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“—but I’ve always found your tenacity to be admirable. Your dedication to your people, evidenced by your tireless work to make their lives better, has always struck me as inspirational. Pardon the cliché, but you really aren’t like other girls,” he says.

You wave off his compliments. “By the sounds of it, you must have this line practiced to perfection. Don’t tell me this is what you say to the other princesses when you confess to them.”

He flushes darkly, stuttering at your brash comment. The sight makes you snort, only worsening his embarrassment. “I have, um, never confessed to anyone before…”

“I find that hard to believe. Sure, you might not be like me—” you say drily. You haven’t sentenced your own life to heartache and misfortune, is what you mean to say. The pang in your chest comes back with a vengeance, but you carry on. “—but I would imagine that you’ve had to sweet talk many princesses before me. I was not your parents’ first choice, was I?”

“Indeed,” he admits awkwardly. “But I am not completely powerless. My father had allowed me some freedom when choosing a bride, and I…” he trails off, swallowing nervously. He gestures to you vaguely, unwilling to keep eye contact as he does.

You gape at him, pointing to yourself. “You… You chose me? Why?”

“It’s exactly as I said,” he shrugs. “I read about the things you’ve done, and I was drawn to you. It seems that my freedom has indirectly caused your misery, however…” he says ashamedly.

Guilt coils up you for the umpteenth time that day, except now it is directed at the boy in front of you. Foolish of you to think that your actions only affected you and your lover. Foolish of you to believe that your actions don’t have consequences bigger than you might have imagined.

“It… is not your fault,” you grit out, though it pains you to say. Not because it is a lie, but rather, it is a painful truth: a pill you have finally been forced to swallow. “My recklessness has caused more wreckage than I would have imagined.”

“I must admit that I have always been in love with the concept of love,” he says. He scratches the back of his neck, shyly turning away from you. “I believe that while love comes in all different shapes and sizes, it is certainly never supposed to be cruel. It is never selfish or… painful.”

Your eyes narrow, fully understanding his implications. “Then you must be as naive as you appear,” you snarl. You step away from the doorway, making your way towards the prince until your chests were merely a breath apart. However, he doesn’t back away like you thought he would. He stands his ground, looking at you through his long lashes.

“You wouldn’t understand. Have you ever loved someone so deeply that even the thought of being apart wounds you? Have you ever stayed awake at night, listening carefully to the sound of your own beating heart, aching for someone you cannot have? It is an ache, Jungkook, that cannot be salved with pretty words and sentiments. It is not a choice,” you finish, vision growing blurry with unshed tears. But you refuse to let them fall, not for a boy who didn’t know better.

His gaze is level with your own, his breathing steady. His eyes look dark to you, no longer sparkling like they once did. But before you can blink, the darkness is gone, replaced with his carefully crafted neutrality. The princely politician makes his return, except he’s a little sadder. Disappointed, even. “No, I have not experienced any of that. I cannot say for certain what is true, but I have always thought that love should be gentle and kind. Something to be enjoyed, and not a cause of strife.”

He steps away from you, his footsteps light as he makes his way to the door. When he twists the doorknob, he stills for a moment. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N. Don’t… keep hurting yourself, okay? A lot of people care for you, even if they don’t say it. Even if it doesn’t seem that way.”

You bark out a laugh, but it sounds watered down to your ears. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with me already.”

He smiles at you, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmurs before bidding you farewell.

You’re left alone again, and your room feels significantly more hollow. Your entire body is vibrating, filled with an unidentifiable feeling swirling in your chest like a hurricane. Was it anger? Frustration? Hopelessness? Guilt? Perhaps an ungodly concoction of all four?

You feel nauseous, almost falling over from the strength of it. Everything about today has caused you to lose your hold on your sanity, the urge to scream in anguish becoming more unbearable by the second.

Love should be gentle and kind, he said. Despite how sweet his intentions, his words still feel like poison. How dare he say that to you, when he knows that you wish it was true?

You grab your violin by the neck, your violent grip causing the wood to creak. Your hands shake, tears freely falling into the sea of your self-pity.

You drag your bow harshly against the strings, striking a sound louder than your own frustrated cry. A few of the hairs snap, but you continue, playing like a madwoman possessed. The music is frantic, agonizing—goosebumps trail your skin unprompted. Your pain overflows until even the dead can hear you weep.

Your violin almost drowns out the sound of another knock at your door. “Go away,” you growl, playing more fiercely. The violin groans, as if in pain. “If you’ve come back to lecture me about love again—”

“Your Highness,” a softer voice responds. It’s not Jungkook like you had thought. “It’s Jimin.”

Even if he had not announced himself, you would have known just by his footsteps. You freeze, your heart beating wildly out of your chest. You swipe a hand across your cheek in a futile attempt to hide away the evidence. Even without a mirror, you know that your eyes are puffy and bloodshot.

He enters without your prompting: comfortable enough to invade your space as if he had not torn your heart to pieces just hours ago. His gaze immediately goes to your face, a staggered breath leaving his lungs when he sees your hollow expression. But that moment of weakness disappears in an instant, the same stoic captain from this morning reappearing right in front of you.

“Had you been expecting someone else?” he asks in place of a greeting. There is an edge to his tone, you notice. If you didn’t know better, you might have missed it. Jealousy. How dare he.

You squint at him, but you say nothing. The air is icy with tension, enough to freeze hell twice over.

He clears his throat. “I’ve come to apologize, your Highness. It was out of line for a royal guard such as myself to drag you so brusquely like that. It will not happen again,” he murmurs.

You can hear the hidden meaning buried in his words. It won’t happen again, because I won’t be here to do it.

“Is that all you have to say?” you whisper. You place your violin down carefully, but your vision is already turning blurry once more. You won’t cry in front of him. You refuse to be the only one hurt from this.

He sighs, as if worn by your childish antics. “Y/N, you don’t understand—”

When he calls you by your name, the fraying string inside of you snaps. “Save it,” you seethe. “You’re a coward, that’s what you are. There isn’t anything to understand.”

“No, you should understand,” Jimin steps forward, grabbing you by the shoulders. He shakes you, desperation hanging off every inch of his frame. “As a princess, you should know what it means to serve the people. You should know more than anyone about the oaths I made to this kingdom. You should be proud of me!”

His increasing volume only encourages you to match him, your throat nearly getting torn in two from how loudly you shout. “Cut the patriotic act! Do you think I’ve forgotten all the whispers you’ve planted in my head? About how you wished more than anything to work with your brothers as performers, how you wished you hadn’t been the breadwinner of your family just so you wouldn’t have to sell your strength to my father?”

“I was naive. I should have known it was my responsibility,” he counters.

“Then what about all the promises you made to me during our nights together? You swore to love me forever under starry nights and disheveled sheets. You said you’d run away with me, just so I wouldn’t have to marry anyone else!”

Jimin grits his teeth. “Meer words of comfort. The babblings of a child.”

You shove him away, your skin burning from where he touched you. “Then actions must speak louder than words, correct? You cannot hide from me when your lovemaking spoke volumes. ”

For once, it seems Park Jimin is at a loss for words. He clenches his fists by his side, looking utterly defeated. “Y/N… You know that it’s the right thing to do.”

“I don’t,” you mumble, lips trembling. “I really don’t.”

“Even so,” Jimin says. He lifts a finger, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek. “It is better that I make the choice than you.”

Better that he breaks your heart than you. “We… we could’ve found another way,” you croak, helpless.

Jimin only smiles sadly. “The prince… He is a good man. I have been watching him these past few weeks and I know that he will—” his voice catches, and he has to pause for a moment to regain his composure. “He will make a good match for you. It would be wrong for us to…”

It pains you to admit it, but he’s right. Jungkook doesn’t deserve your infidelity. And yet, even if Jimin were to leave, would you ever be wholly Jungkook’s anyway? What would be the difference, if your heart will continue to yearn for another man regardless?

“Tell me this, then. For once, spare me from your half-truths. Drive the final nail into my coffin so that I know that you are truly certain.” You force him to look you directly in the eye, his pupils shaking as he takes you in for what might be his last time. It is almost as if time had stopped, and only the two of you existed in this space. This bedroom that you called your haven, the place where you had fallen in love—the place that will witness your first heartache.

“If our lives could have been different, would you have loved me then?”

Jimin has never looked so weary, so different from the boisterous boy you had met all those years ago. “I’m sure… that I would’ve done what was best. For the greater good.”

“And does that greater good include us? How do we fit in that equation?”

But he only steps away, his hand still outstretched as if to hold you. Then, he slowly tucks it behind him, his posture straightening the way a guard should. “I think you already know the answer to that,” he says, the note of finality ringing loud and clear.

He pries open the door, hesitating only for one more moment before chancing one last glance at you. “Tomorrow… I leave with my men. I would appreciate it if you don’t come.”

The door closes, and your question remains unanswered.

Just like him, the empty silence of your room refuses to respond, no matter how many times you ask.

Because in the sanctity of your bedroom, no promises ever did hold. The Park Jimin you loved was never real in the first place, and no matter how much you slam your fists and stomp your feet, he’s never going to love you the way you want him to.

And there you stand, all by your lonesome, without the prying gazes of those who expect better of you. Gruesomely, and painfully you.

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indestinatus · 5 years

Text

The Band-Aid

(Cairo - chapter 3/4)

chapter 1, chapter 2

"Which one should I get, Tali?" asked Ziva to her child, gazing curiously to the display of jewelry at a small shop nearby the opera house.

"This," she answered, pointing to a small round shaped necklace on the counter.

"This one shall be, then."

Tali insisted on going looking for a new necklace to Ziva to replace the former Star of David, now around her daughter's neck.

Tony set Tali on the ground and helped Ziva put the new chain in place.

"Yafa," he said softly, kissing her temple.

Beautiful.

"When did you learn Hebrew?"

"I'm learning for Tali's sake," Tony said, winking.

His hand grasped hers as they left the shop, Tali running in front of them, trying to catch fireflies.

"Tell me about her," asked him, his thumb caressing the inside of Ziva's wrist.

"Every morning since she was two months old, I showed her a picture of you and repeated 'Abba' and 'Tony' for at least half an hour," said Ziva, laughing loudly for the first time in months, "I repeated it so much it was the first word she said. Abba."

Tony looked at her dumbfounded, a wide grin building on his lips. He drew Ziva closer, putting his arm around her, but still holding her hand, to kiss her temple.

They heard a sharp hiss and Tali started to cry a few steps ahead. Tony raced to her, and a second later he had her in his arms.

"Oh, little ninja, I'm sorry."

That was a cut on her knee, not very large, but one that needed to be taken care of.

He sat down on a nearby bench and started to rock her in his knee.

"Ima!" she said, face red with crying and arms opened towards Ziva, who watched the whole scene silently. She took her daughter in her arms, while Tony searched for something in Tali's bag.

"Tali, remember the story about Ima and Abba getting locked in the box?" he said, as he grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting something.

Ziva stopped the faint singing she was whispering in Tali's ear to look up to Tony. He smiled at her.

"Do you remember how the box started to move?"

"Magic," said Tali, whose crying stopped with the mention of the story.

"That's right, Tali, magic. That was bad magic that got Ima and Abba in trouble, but there's also good magic. Magic that heals with only a little bit of help. It needs love."

Tony raised a band-aid to his lips, kissing it softly. He then held it in front of Ziva's lips for her to do the same.

"Now you," he said to Tali, who planted a kiss quickly, eyes fixed on her new magical sticker.

Tony put it softly on her knee, "there, the enchantment shall work with the help of all of us."

He had cut the band-aid in the shape of a heart.

"She hates band-aids since she was born," said Ziva, eyes watering.

"DiNozzos have their ways," Tony answered, with a shy smile.

"You told her stories?"

"She asked me to, once she saw your picture. I tell her every night before bed... she found her favorite ones with time, and now I just tell some of them she always asks to repeat."

Tony shuffled Tali's curls softly, she was still glaring at the heart-shaped band-aid on her knee.

"What's your favorite story, Tali?" asked Ziva, curious to know.

Tali glanced at her briefly and smiled, looking down again to the band-aid, "Paris," she answered.

Ziva let out a small gasp, "you told her about Paris?"

"Don't worry," said Tony, casting a smile towards the stars above them, "I left the best part out."

He winked at her and Ziva couldn't stop the heat rising up her cheeks. It was as if they were young again.

"That's where we're staying now. Paris," affirmed Tony, suddenly serious. Back to reality.

"First I thought you could be there when I saw the picture," he continued, "but time passed and every corner reminded me of you, so we stayed."

Ziva only nodded, unable to form any words, tears welled up her eyes.

"I love Paris," she said.

Tony grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"I know, Zee, I know."

He wasn't referring to her taste.

Somehow she knew he was talking about the pain.

°°°

"There really is no other way?" asked Tony, arm around Ziva's chest and chin rested on her head, as they both looked below to the streets of Cairo from her window view.

"No," answered Ziva softly, her voice a whisper. As much as she wanted for them to stay together and be the family she'd always dreamed, they couldn't. She could take care of herself and track down Sahar, but she couldn't protect Tali and Tony when there were dozens of trained killers chasing her. "I'm sorry."

"Hey," he said, turning her so she was facing him. He raised her chin with his finger, green eyes staring into her soul. "There's nothing to be sorry for, you're doing all you can."

Brown eyes teared up.

"Thank you, Tony. I cannot thank you-"

"There's also nothing to thank me for. She's our daughter, and she'll be okay."

He hugged her tightly, and kissed her hair.

"I wish-"

"Don't, Ziva. Please don't make this more difficult than it already is."

The night sky was clean over the pyramids, and every star shone brightly as if to honor the two lovers together at last.

"Abba, story," came a voice from below, as a small hand pulled Tony's pants softly.

"No, Tali, it's way past your bed time."

"But Abba, ooone."

"I'm sorry, princess. Tomorrow I'll tell you one."

Ziva flinched at that. Tomorrow she won't be with them. Tony squeezed her shoulders tightly, arms still around her.

"What about Abba and Ima get you to bed? Sounds good?"

Tali smiled broadly. "Yeah," she declared.

Tony held one of Tali's hand as Ziva watched and did the same with the other one. They walked towards the bed and the world seemed to slow down.

He laid her to bed and raised the duvet to Tali's chin. She grabbed Kelev and grasped her necklace tightly.

"Luv you, Abba," she said, kissing Tony's cheek gently.

"Now give your Ima a kiss."

"Luv you, Ima," said Tali smiling, kissing Ziva's cheek.

"I love you too, Tali," said Ziva in a choked voice.

Tali didn't close her eyes, she was looking back and forth at Tony and Ziva.

"Abba, Ima! You kiss! Ah-ha-vah," she said.

Brown eyes met green ones. Ziva was blushing and Tony was beaming.

"This wasn't my fault," he said, a wide smile on his lips.

"She's still a DiNozzo."

Tony cupped Ziva's face and brought his lips to hers, eyes closing involuntarily. Ziva’s heart pounded in her chest as her mind went blank. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses.

Maybe time stopped when his lips met hers, but Tony's fingers traveled her hair as if he couldn't let her go anymore. Not again.

When Ziva's fingers scrapped the nape of his head and he sensed she was losing herself, he let go of her lips gently. Tony rested his forehead on hers and inhaled her scent. Jasmine. Shea butter.

He forced himself to let her go, or else this was going to be impossible. Brown eyes blinked tears away.

"Okay, done. Good night, Tali," he said.

Tali smiled softly and in a minute was already sleeping soundly.

"Hey, Dah-veed?"

"Yeah?"

Tony tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ziva's ear, eyes glimpsing shortly to her mouth and back up again. He smiled.

"I want another one."

Ziva's eyes traveled to his lips, her self-control fading.

"Another kiss too," he laughed, "but I was talking about Tali."

Ziva David smiled. And for the first time, it didn't really matter.

#alexa play 'all I ask' by Adele #ncis #tiva #ncis spoilers #tiva fanfiction #ziva david #tony dinozzo #tali david dinozzo #my fics #i tried to explain the whole necklace picking and band-aid cutting holes #one part to go #too many feels to be honest #this is how i survive until january 7th #writing fics and sobbing thinking of cairo

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ain-t-bovvered · 5 years

Text

15x03 Commentary

bunch of tired and caffeinated Europeans ( plus a sleepy American) scream together, and then die and try to get on with their day ( lol AS IF)

Hello and welcome:

@purpleskiesandcherrypies (Nat)

@dean-winchesters-bacon (Kat)

@waywardbaby (Zee)

@ain-t-bovvered (Giulia)

Opening my phone in the morning:

What the fuck happened

Kat: You don’t wanna know

Kat: You’ll find out soon enough

Zee: Yeah ok I went to tumblr. Why did I do that ?

Kat: SHAME ON YOU

Giulia: BECAUSE U HAVE 0 PATIENCE

Kat: If you wanted to know I could have told you

Zee: I just opened the freaking thing and glanced at the first thing on my dash. Clearly, it was the wrong thing to glance at. I yeeted out

Giulia: I DON T WANNA BE HERE

Giulia: will I cry

Kat: Do you want the honest answer

Giulia: No

Kat: Didn’t think so

Giulia: Im so tired already

Zee: Oh shush

Kat: Don’t I know it

Nat : ok i'm read

Nat : or not . whatever

Giulia: I’m not!! Help

Giulia: Ok im ready

Kat: Question first!

Zee: Uh oh

Giulia: I don t like it

Kat: With the download, do y’all have the green CW screen first?

US: no

Giulia: * stressed* Why

Kat: Because I watch my recording, I don’t download so I want to make sure I start in the same spot

Giulia: Oh ok.... Geez

Zee: Are we ready?

Nat : Are we all not ready

Kat: I think we are right?

Nat : 3

Nat : 2

Nat : 1

Nat : go

Giulia: Ghost’s town again yay

Nat : Unpopular opinon: I hope Ketch dies

Kat: Sames

Giulia: Well he done anyway so

Kat: ...

Giulia: GREAT

Nat : idgaf about Ketch

Nat : AH GHOST TOWN THE 3RD YAY I'm so happy

Kat: Love these random ass hunters

Giulia: I see white pants I think Jensen jib10

Kat: SHUSH

Nat : Legit wanna throw my laptop away

R: The "Rafforza l'incantesimo"

my italian ass: GASPS

Giulia: Look at Rowena pretty dress

Kat: Yyyeessss that dress

Giulia: Also she brought a change

Zee: Came prepared

Nat : She's the thing that keeps me watching at the moment

Kat: Of course, it’s Rowena

Nat : UGH I felt that

Giulia: I felt dean

Zee: For me it’s deans legs and cas’s fed up face

Giulia: That place again

Giulia: What

Nat : Insert Joey gif: I'M SOOOOO SICK OF THIS TOOOOOWN

Giulia: Noted

oh look me walking with my tall friends

that door banging scared the shit out of me

R: Prendi cio che è debole, rendilo forte. D'una piuma d'oca, fai una spada.

Take what’s weak and make it stronger. Of a duck feather make it a sword

Giulia: OH ITALIAN

Zee: Is she speaking Italian?

R: Dalla nebbia, cemento possente, impenetrabile, inflessibile.

From fog, mighty concrete, impenetrable, inflexible

Giulia: SHE IS

R: Rendilo forte.

Make it stronger

Giulia: And pretty well too

Kat: It’s not working Sam

Zee: Connection lost. Check server

Giulia: Oh no

Kat: And down she goes

Giulia: Thanks

Zee: A real drink

Giulia: Lol

Kat: This look 🤣🤣🤣

Giulia: Gotta use it

Kat: Love the silent conversations

Giulia: Fuck off belphy

Nat : Ah angry ghosts . What else is new

Zee: I kinda love his sass

Kat: Same but I still want to stab him

Nat : Wow, imagine this was the last three episodes. It's over in a freaking ghost town. I'm still salty, can you see?

Giulia: Yeah that would fucking destroy me

Kat: Not at all you hide it so well

Giulia: That’s not who we are

Zee: Go Dean!! Tell them

Giulia: AWE SAM

Kat: Aw Sammy

Giulia: SAM

He’s so gentle . Such a big gentle giant, I love him.

Zee: Control your face Sam

Kat: That doesn’t happen. At all.

Giulia: YOU SHUSH THE FUCK DOWN

Giulia: that strap tho

Nat : Not gonna give up

Kat: He never does. Take a knee

Nat : He's like a leave in the wind, give up not giving up give up not giving up

Zee: Is he us?

D: Oh, I'm not freaked. I'm angry, okay? I'm pissed.

Giulia: I M PISSED TOO

Kat: THAT PISSED WAS SO COUNTRY

Kat: Jensen your Texas is showing

Giuls: And I’m loving it

Giulia: I need more then

D: Th-This... This sloppy-ass ghostpocalypse... that's Chuck's ending? No. No, I don't think so. After everything that he has put us through? I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some glorified fanboy get the last word.

Giulia: SLOPPY ASS GHOST APOCALYPSE

Nat : Sloppy Ass Ghost Apocalypse. Yeah, that's about sums it up

Zee: Glorified fan boy

Giulia: dean speaking up for the fandom

S: Anything useful in there? R: Not a thing.

sure

Nat : You don't have eyes

Nat : snorts

Zee: You don’t have eyes

Giulia: Ok that was funny

B: I got an idea, but, uh... you're not gonna like it.

Giulia: DON T

Giulia: TOUCH

Giulia: MAH BABY

Kat: You okay bb?

Giulia: no I’m fear

Kat: What

Giulia: Because i just remembered the season trailer. And i wanna be wrong

Zee: Surprised moose

Nat : Did he just say, minions

Nat : But that would mean that Belphy would stay on earth?

Kat: No he’d be in hell

Nat : Ah

Giulia: Ah

Giulia: ... I don t like this

Kat: DIBS ON SAMUEL

Nat : Dibs on Samuel

Giulia: Dibs on samuel

Zee: Dibs on Samuel

Nat : Hey

Giulia: AH sam witch confirmed

Nat : I'm calling Dibs on Dean then

Kat: NO

Giulia: Cas🙋🏼‍♀

Zee: Was waiting for Kat

R: Whoever does this, they'll be unprotected. No salt circles... all manner of angry spirits right up in their grill.

Nat : So yeah, Belphy wants Cas

Giulia: NO Don t look at my bb

B: I want protection.Muscle.

D: Yeah, Cass’ll go.

C: Well, it sounds like I don't have a choice.

Giulia: DEAN

Zee: Dean threw him under the bus

Giulia: ugh

Kat: Oh babe

Giulia: COME ON

Nat : Dean would literally do anything now

Nat : That's how desperate he is

Kat: YUP

Nat : I see more of Ketch than I ever wanted

future me: ain’t that right

Zee: His underwear are ridiculous

Kat: SNORTS

Nat : Kill him

Giulia: Jesus lady there is an apocalypse going on

random demon I don’t care about: And you won't give them up? Not for any price?

K: Not at any price.

Giulia: Aw ketch

Kat: ya happy Nat?

Nat : AHHHHH OMG YES

Giulia: Eh

Giulia: We are at 2 spn final season deaths already nice

Zee: Casually strolling the graveyard

B: You know, your part in all this is, uh, pretty dangerous.I mean, you could die, get trapped in Hell. Your friends might never see you again. Funny, 'cause, uh,they didn't seem to think twice about it.

R.U.D.E.

Nat :lol Cas

Giulia: AHAHAHAH

Zee: Ok

Kat: Hhhhhhhaaaahahhaaa

Giulia: DO I LOVE HIM

Giulia: witch stuff

Nat : And what's Dean's role in this?

Nat : I think I got distracted

Kat: Outside by the hole

Giulia: Being grumpy

Nat : Ah where he should be 😉

Kat: Ready and waiting lol

Giulia: Well you’d want him in

Nat : Well, not the whole of him

Zee: FOCUS LADIES

Zee: so fed up

C: Yet you needed protection, "muscle", for this?

B: Okay, you got me. I wanted company. I wanted your company. What? Shouldn't we at least try and be friends?

Nat : Belphy is Giuls

Giulia: WOW

Nat : You would want Cas' company too

C: You are not growing on anyone. Sam and Dean are just using you. Don't mistake that for caring about you, because I can assure you they don't.

B: Wow. You learn that the hard way?

Giulia: AWE NO BELPHY SHUSH

Kat: Cas should know

Nat : Sush

Giulia: OH THAT REALLY STUNG

C: You're wearing Jack, who was like a son to me, like a coat.

Zee: Like a son to me

C: It's an abomination.

Giulia: im sad. I’m so sad

Zee: I think you should wait

Kat: It’s gonna get worse bb

Giulia: DON T PUSH HIM

Nat : Why does Cas has to go in first

Giulia: what else is new

Zee: The muscle

Nat : Ah

Nat : Do we trust him?

Kat: WHAT DO YOU THINK

Zee: No

Giulia: I hate how I can recognize enochian

Giulia: I trust bel so little

Nat : I don't think he should say that out loud

Kat: SUNG

Giulia: Oh

Zee: What?

Giulia: WHAT

Kat: SING IT CAS

Giulia: OMG WHAT

Nat : Don't do it?

C: ♪ Toh-luh dah... ♪

Giulia: OH COME ON

Kat: That’s all you get lol

Giulia: fuck Oh great that was the “musical”

Nat : Ah Dean's at the hole

Nat : snorts

Kat: There might be a couple seconds more I can’t remember

Nat : Sam just thinks that he should be with Dean when this all goes to shit

Nat : And I cry

Giulia: ...great

Kat: Nope

C: ♪ ... mee ♪

Zee: Like an angel

Nat : WELL

Giulia: Oh fuck off

Zee: Oh fuck

Giulia: Well

Nat : Who is she again

Giulia: Ardat Some demon who wanted to kill bel

Nat : Ardat Lili is a dangerous storm spirit from ancient Sumeria, a vampiric succubus who visits men at night

Giulia: Thanks Hermione

Kat: Thanks google

Zee: Nerd

Nat : At least I know how to work google. Unlike the majority, it seems

Giulia: well I’m doing 3 things at the same time

Giulia: Everybody wants to rule hell. Nobody learned a thing from Crowley

Zee: It’s been a while since Cas got smacked

Giulia: He’s a fucking angel

Giulia: OF COURSE

Nat : THERE WAS A VACANCY. Pfffff

Kat: Ugh he’s so annoying

Zee: That close up Giuls ?

Giulia: I KNOW EXCITING

Nat : Ah the wind in Dean's hair

Nat : I need that close up Giuls

Kat: The wind in Cas’ trench

Nat : lol in Cas' shirt

Giulia: that hand holding

Kat: 😭

Giulia: I’m having anxiety

Zee: We see

Kat: YOU SHOULD

Nat : Shouldn't Cas go out before it closes. Before Dean throws that bomb in?Ah, too late

Giulia: I can t take it

Giulia: DEAN. DEAN FUCK

Zee: COME ON

Kat: He’s got business

Giulia: CAS

Giulia: what

Kat: IT’S NOT HIS FAULT AT THE MOMENT

Giulia: What is happening

Giulia: I’m so angry at everyone

Kat: CAS IS MAD

B: It's me... Jack.

Giulia: JACK SHUT UP

Zee: NO

Giulia: OH NO

The struggle Castiel going through is painful ok. I hate it , HATE IT.

Nat : Ah so Jack is gone?

Kat: His body I guess

Giulia: I HATE THIS

Nat : For good?

Giulia: FUCK NO

Zee: WTF

Giulia: WHAT WAS THAT SIGH

Well this destroyed me .

future me: AH JUST YOU WAIT DUMB BITCH

Kat: That wasn’t Jack

Nat : Because he's still in the empty, right? He's forgotten there

Giulia: FUCK

Kat: Death has plans

Zee: CAS

Oh you can see the moment Castiel feels like he’s got nothing left . great.

Nat : What

Giulia: ROWENA

Nat : WHAT

Kat: JUST FUCKING WAIT

R: Won't need that where I'm going.

Nat : Ah fuck

R: Magic can do anything, Samuel , can contain anything... even the vast multitudes of Hell.

Giulia: I HATE THIS

Zee: WHAT?

Giulia: NO

Nat : If I pay the price

R:"Death Is an Infinite Vessel." A spell so simple it draws its power from its caster.Just two ingredients.

S: Rowena, why didn't you tell us?

shut up Sam

R: Because, dear, the first ingredient is my own still-coursing blood. And the last is my final breath.

Giulia: I DON T LIKE THE PRICE

Nat : Rowena loves them to much

Zee: Hold on HOLD ON

Giulia: i love her so much

R: I'll absorb the ghosts and demons and return them to Hell.In time, my body'll break down, and they'll be released right where they belong.

S: No, no. No. Rowena... no.

Giulia: GREAT

Nat : NO AH

Giulia: I DON T WANNA SEE SAM CRY

R: To perform this spell, I have to die. And it has to be you that kills me.

Nat : Right, in every death book of Rowena, she's killed by Sam

Kat: POOR SAMMY

Giulia: OF COURSE GREAT

Zee: HE GOT OUT

Kat: SEE HE GETS OUT

Giulia: BUT AT WHAT PRICE

Kat: MIGHT BE BETTER IF HE STAYED THOUGH

Giulia: WHAT ?! YIKES

R: My real, permanent demise is at your hands. It's in Death's books.

S: Yeah, well, you know what? Screw the books.

Us: *LOUD GASP*

D: Wh-What about the Crook?

C: It's gone. It was destroyed.

That what is so ..... wow

R: I don't care about anything enough to take my own life.Not you, your brother... not even the world. But I believe in prophecy. I believe in magic. And I'm here, and you're here, and everything we need to end this right is in our hands.I know this in my bones...it has to be this way. Do it! Kill me, Samuel!

Nat : I'm-

Kat: 😭😭😭😭😭

Giulia: I’m

Zee: INDONT WANNA WATCH

Giulia: I CANT TAKE ALL THIS

Nat : Fuck, Sammy

Giulia: OH MY GOD SAM

Nat : Sam is too fragile for that

Kat: I BELIEVE IN PROPHECY AND MAGIC 🤣😭😭

R: I know we've gotten quite fond of each other, haven't we? But will you let the world die, let your brother die, just so I can live?

Giulia: NO SHUT UP

Zee: Shut up Rowena

Giulia: NO

Nat : Dean's pissed. What else is new

Giulia: NO NO

Nat : NO

Giulia: SAM

Nat : NOOOOO

Giulia: FUCK

Zee: God damn

Kat: NNNOOOOOOOOO

Giulia: STOP IT

Kat: She says Dean’ll die and Sam gets stabby

Giulia: NO ROWEEEENAAA

R: That's my boy.

Kat: THATS MY BOY

Nat : Of course

Giulia: WHAT IS THAT FACE SAM

Giulia: FUCK OFF

Giulia: FUCK THESE EPISODES

Nat : OH NO

Giulia: SHIT

Kat: IS IT BETTER OR WORSE THAN BORING

Nat : SAMMY CONTROL YOUR FUCKING FACE

Giulia: IM NOT READY

Giulia: NO DON T SAY THAT

Kat: JUST LIKE CROWLEY

Giulia: COME ON

Zee: CAN THE MUSIC NOT

Nat : CAS

Giulia: CAS BB

Giulia: WHY AM I SO TIRED

Zee: IMAGINE HOW SAM IS FEELING

Nat : HENLEY

Giulia: oh dean is in the nude

Zee: BUTT NAKED

Kat: SUCH GOOD SINGLE LAYER HENLEY PORN

Giulia: Oh he was crying In his room

Nat : Does Sam actually fit in the bed?

Giulia: Ah yeah ketch too

Kat: Okay I know it’s super sad but these boys are looking GOOD

Giulia: I KNOW AND IM SANGRY

I’M STILL MOURNING OK

C: How's Sam?

D: Not great.

Kat: Get ready babes

C: Sorry about Rowena.

Giulia: No i refuse

Zee: WHAT?

Nat : NO

Giulia: Fuck

Nat : Don't you throw this in Kat

D: You're sorry? Why didn't you just stick to the damn plan?

Giulia: I DON T WANNA WATCH

C: He wanted to eat every last soul to take over Hell, Earth, and every...

D: Yeah, and we would've figured it out... after. With Rowena.

OK but listen...figuring it out later could have been worse , although it’s true that Rowena was a real great asset. Idk man I’m hurting

Giulia: i can feel dean’s anger

Nat : Dean control your anger

C: Something went wrong. You know this. Something always goes wrong.

D: Yeah, why does that something always seem to be you?

Kat: Oooohhhh boy

Nat : WHAT

Giulia: NO

Nat : DID YOU JUST SAY

Giulia: DEAN U FUCK

you can see the shock and hurt and heartbreak on Cas’ face but it’s fine , it’s fine WE’RE FINE

C: You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me.

They both so hurt and I cannot bear this

Zee: Can’t breathe

C: My powers are failing, and...

yeah can we talk about that ? becasue...why the fuck

C: and I've tried to talk to you, over and over, and you just don't want to hear it. You don't care.

Nat : The eyeroll

Giulia: I HATE THIS SHIT

Kat: I know bb

SO ANGRY

C: I'm... dead to you.

SO SAD

Nat : The eyeroll

Giulia: I HATE THIS SHIT

Kat: I know bb

Giulia: IS THIS FANFIC

Giulia: I READ THIS 364830173 TIMES

C: You still blame me for Mary.

Giulia: NO

C: Well, I don't think there's anything left to say.

D: Where you going?

IS THIS FANFIC

Nat : CAS IS GOING AWAY

Nat : CAS STAY

Kat: You knew it was happening bb

Zee: WHAT

Zee: THE

Zee: FUCK

C: Jack's dead. Chuck's gone. You and Sam have each other.

Giulia: NO THIS SONG

Nat : I know

Kat: I know

C: I think it's time for me to move on.

Zee: STOP HIM YOU ASSUOLE

Nat : I knew it but I'm not happy about it

Kat: Group hug

Giulia: WELL DEAN LOOKS REGRETFUL SO AT LEAST THERE’S THAT

Kat: As per usual. He lashes out then is sorry about it.

Nat : That's human

Giulia: HEY YALL CAN TALK TO MY CORPSE

Giulia: TRAILER TIME BECAUSE IM IN DENIAL

Giulia: MEH

Nat : Yeah well, the next ep is kinky

Giulia: gag me

Kat: Yup

Giulia: My heart is broken. This ep destroyed me

Kat: I know bb

Zee: DONT LIKE THE PROMO

Giulia: FUCK OFF THE PROMO I DON T GIVE 2 SHITS ABOUT IT

Kat: But Jensen directed

Zee: Dean was exceptionally assholy

Nat : We'll get Lumberjack Dean

Kat: That too

Giulia: dean is on a real fine thread

Giulia: I think that’s when there is samifer

Kat: Well the red was there And it was red when we see bearded!dean

Giulia: I currently don’t give a shit honestly

Kat: They’ll make up by the end

Giulia: Yeah i wanna see when

Giulia: Whatever I’m so tired

Giulia: Fuck off

Giulia: Im also pretty real sad. And that hasn’t happened in long on spn

Kat: Jensen said in an interview it hasn’t happened yet so we’ll see

Zee: We all are

Kat: I know. I knew exactly how y’all would react

Giuls: Ok but it’s not even about destiel. I just hate to see them fight instead of working together

Giulia: My stomach hurts too now. I should go. Kat go the fuck to sleep. And nobody talks to me about the ep

Kat: I AM TALKIN TO ZEE

Giulia: Hush i can still hear you over the sound of my soul crying

Zee: In my defense, I told her to sleep

Kat: Give your soul a tissue

Kat: She did. Many times. I didn’t listen like usual

Giulia: That vinyl now looks real good to ease my pain. Not gonna lie

Zee: Take me with you. I’ll probably be a mile back but still

Giulia: I rewatched the end briefly because I’m a dumb bitch. And yep, i can confirm i screamed into my pillow and got actually teary eyed and boi am I dumb to get actually tears for a tv show jesus and it’s only ep 3 but the threat of the ending is getting tight around my neck already and this is stupid, and fuck. And bye

Giulia: People are hating over everything right now

Kat: Yup. People hate Cas, people hate Dean, people hate the town (@Nat ) Plus, I think it, being the last season, makes people lash out more.

Nat : Hey

Kat: Did I lie?

Nat : No but it still hurts

Kat: Well they’re away from it now At least there’s that

Giulia: Why, where are they Idk

Kat: Do I have to say it?

Giulia: Say what

Kat: Where people are. I don’t think you wanna hear it

Giulia: Exactly

Kat: So we won’t say it lol

Giulis: For what it’s worth all the people throwing hate at Dean and Castiel can all suck my dick.

If you want to get tagged send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @wayward-angelgirl @destiel-honeypie @mariekoukie6661 @dragontamerm @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat @bunnybaby121115 @aliaitee2 @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc @dammitsammy @legendary-destiel @winchesterprincessbride @destielhoneybee @ravenhg @evvvissticante @emoryhemsworth

#Episode commentary #episode 15x03 #supernatural 15x03 #15x03 commentary #Jensen Ackles #Misha Collins #Jared Padalecki #ruthie connell #rowena #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester

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liliththemotherofdemons · 5 years

Text

Lilith- the Mother of Demons.

Her title wasn't symbolic, dished out like an honorary degree from a second rate institution. It was real and perhaps her truest identity.

Before she was a demoness, she was a mother.

Before she was a regent, she was a mother.

Before she was the Dark Lord's, she was her children's.

Lilith had birthed hundreds of infants in her centuries of existence and even that was a conservative estimate. Each offspring had been a demonic spawn that only a mother could love and she had loved every one. As with most of the natural world, her time as a mother came in cycles. There was a time to grow new life, a time to birth it and a time to raise it. The time for growth was upon her, Lilith could feel it in her bones as the full lunar moon shone brightly above Greendale. She felt fertile yet empty and in need of seed.

A dark chuckle interrupted the Demoness' thoughts. Tilting her head to one side, she regarded her trapped keeper in his position at her feet. How many times had their positions been reversed? Too many to count. The flash of red behind his eyes revealed that at that moment Lilith was talking to her Dark Lord.

"Dark Lord, I assume, " Lilith spat. Rising from her throne, the Demoness let out her own girlish giggle. "Pray, do tell what you have got to laugh about while trapped in the boy warlock's fleshy prison?"

"Dear Lilith, we both know the prison is no match for me. I'll be out in no time and you know there'll be heaven to pay, but in the meantime you've got an even bigger problem to face."

Lilith's face fell- for a second literally as her flesh facade gave way to her true form. It was desperate and Lilith hated how the Dark Lord remained the one being in the universe that knew her inside out.

"And what problem would that be?" Lilith asked, turning away from the Dark Lord and returning to her throne.

"You're without babe," he replied without missing a beat. "The cycle is beginning again and your womb is empty. Hell needs more demons, Lilith and we both know whose duty that is. I can smell the fertility on you. And the desperation, but that's always there. Now tell me, because I'm really excited to hear this, how do you plan to find a stud without my help? I've always been the matchmaker. Sure sometimes they don't play nice, but where would the fun be if you enjoyed it? What are you going to do without your lord to help you? We both know you'll never survive a cycle without at least trying. I mean sure, there's been cycles where you've failed. Oh do I remember those, but a cycle where you don't even try? That would be agony for you, wouldn't it my dear?"

Lilith perched on her throne, uncomfortable under the weight of the Dark Lord's words and the crown she was never destined to wear. Raising her left hand, she clicked her fingers and smirked as a severed tongue appeared in a jar of water.

"You really need to watch your tongue..."

Xxxxxxxx

"Lilith!"

Determined footsteps echoed off the walls of hell, intermingling with the wails of anguish and torture. The Demoness stood, turning away from the gutted carcass of a mortal man and hastily pulling on her robe. Wiping sweat away from her face, Lilith praised the fact the Sabrina was not nearly as experienced as she believed her self to be. The teenage witch and would be queen of hell would never be able to tell that she was freshly seeded and as such weaker than normal.

"Sabrina," Lilith greeted. Calm and cold and eager to be rid of the young witch. "You're just gracing hell with your presence on a daily basis now? I returned Nick to your care, what could you possibly want from me now?"

Sabrina came to a stop in front of Lilith, examining the odd appearance of the demoness who was disheveled in a way she'd never seen. Her eyes fell to the man at the taller woman's feet.

"Oh sorry," the teenager replied sarcastically. "Have I interrupted your dinner?"

Lilith flicked her hand dismissively. It was easier than telling the truth.

"What do you want child? Being your fairy God mother isn't my full time job."

"Fairy God mother?" Sabrina scoffed. "I don't think you know what that is..anyway I need your help."

"Don't you always?" Lilith drawled, walking away from the half witch as her hand lowered to her middle subconsciously. "Ever think that I might have something more pressing than your teenage angst?"

Sabrina rolled her eyes. "You and aunt Zee really need to spend more time together. But seriously, the coven's powers are waning. Only you can help us. We need you to come to earth."

Lilith froze, back turned away from the teenager she rubbed her middle in contemplation.

"No. I can't I'm nesting..." Lilith said, the words leaving her before she had the chance to stop them. "I'm nest--"

"What?" Sabrina asked, confusion evident. "Nesting?"

Xxxxxxxx

"Has it really already been that long?" Hilda gushed in disbelief. "Goodness, in other circumstances this would be cause for great celebrations."

"Quite sister," zelda agreed as she took a luff of her cigarette. "But these are trying times. Heaven knows I do not trust lilith but if she is in a new cycle as Sabrina suggests, she is also in grave danger. Our power is waning under the wrath of the dark lord. While he is angry at the coven, that anger would not compare to the anger he has for lilith. Not only that, it is tradition for the dark lord to find the men that will sire a new generation of demons. Who knows what kind of seed lilith would have found without his coordination."

"What are you saying Zelds?" Hilda asked in worry.

"I'm saying we need to open our home up as refuge to lilith. It is bad enough losing our powers, losing a new generation of demons would upset the cosmos even more. "

Sabrina looked over at Ambrose as she listened to the her aunts.

"Have you got any idea what they're talking about?"

"Not a clue, cousin, but that's nothing new."

Xxxxxxxx

She was pregnant but it wasn't noticeable to the inexperienced eye.

Zelda was anything but inexperienced when it came to these things.

"Six weeks?" The red headed witch guessed.

"Six weeks and four days," lilith replied. "Is he here?"

"Who?" Zelda questioned, already knowing the answer.

"The dark lord."

"You'll be safe here, my love," hilda said gently. "He's not in this house."

Lilith scoffed, hand hovering over her middle.

"I wont be safe until hes back in chains."

"You're right," zelda agreed. "But this is the safest place for you and the seed to be."

"The seed isn't going to survive," Lilith replied bluntly. "It wasn't strong enough, not a close enough match. I'll have to try again once it's out of me."

"What?" Sabrina asked. "How could you possibly know that and how can you be so..."

"Ruthless?" Lilith offered. "I've birthed hundreds, I'll birth hundreds more. Not all are successful. "

Zelda considered the demoness and then shot her niece a warning look.

"I fear on this occasion you may be right, lilith. We can at least offer you a somewhere safe while you're vulnerable?"

Lilith nodded, pausing as she felt a cramp spread across her middle.

Xxxxxxxx

The tiles were cold against her bare skin. Thick blood pooled at her ankles and an unrelenting pain held her in a vice like grip.

As with all her births- however they ended, she was on her own. Summoning energy from the deep unknown, lilith shifted over into her knees and let out an unholy cry. She cared little for the noise that the spellmans would hear. It was agony, but there was a focus to it and she knew what she was doing. After several long hours, Lilith felt an almighty rush between her legs and collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. She searched the remnants of her pregnancy for anything that looked like an infant but found nothing. It was too early this time.

Xxxxxxxx

Lilith woke to find the softer of the spellman sisters tending to her. She was woozy and tired and said nothing as the plump blonde wiped a cool cloth across her forehead and prayed to her. It still felt strange having a witch pray to her, but it was music to her tired ears.

"What happens now?" Sabrina whispered.

Lilith wished she had the energy to roll her eyes at the witch's never ending curiosity.

"Lilith will rest and try again and we'll protect her from the dark lord until she recovers and is able to protect us."

Zelda, despite her cynicism, had always been devout.

Xxxxxxx

When she wakes again, Lilith is not greeted by a spellman. Instead it is by a Hooved foot. She tries to move, but can't body exhausted and frozen by fear.

"Lilith," the familiar voice taunts. "I did warn you this would be a failure. You cant succeed in that department without me. "

"They're not always successful. This has nothing to do with you."

The dark lord sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out and stroking her hair away from her face.

"Would you like my help lilith? I know the burning agony you must be in at this moment. To be empty at this point in the cycle... you only need ask for my assistance."

"I don't need your help. You're nearly as weak as I am. You're still trapped somewhere, aren't you? Else I would be dead by now."

"There's no time for that, Sabrina. We need to stop the dark lord and I know how."

The dark lord bowed his head.

"Very well, sweet Lilith, but I wont be weak forever."

Xxxxxxxx

Lilith arrived in the kitchen the next morning, a slight limp the only giveaway of her failed cycle.

"Lilith... should you be--"

#chilling adventures of sabrina #fanfiction

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urdbell18 · 6 years

Text

Madamspellman Teacher AU Chapter 2: The One With the first Day That Came From Hell

Yay chapter 2! So I’m going to be posting new chapter every other Sunday/ Monday. Once again my lovely beta Mostlygay fluff helped a lot to bring you guys this chapter. Enjoy!

September the third marked the day that Zelda became a working mother.

On Tuesday, her alarm went off at five AM. Vida whimpered but settled back down when Zelda turned it off. She showered and did her hair and makeup in the bathroom, usually she did all this at her vanity out of habit from when she shared the room with Hilda, but now it was to not disturb her daughter. So when she exited her room, shoes in hand to silence her presence, she was fully dressed, hair perfectly in place. Her makeup and everything about her was immaculate as she made her way downstairs for breakfast. At the hour still clinging to five she was the only one who was up, hard boiling an egg, placing toast in the toaster, and turning on the coffee machine. It didn’t take much effort and it was rather soothing listening to the bubbling of the water and the aroma of french roast coffee wafting in the air. At around six thirty Hilda came down, bubbly as ever, with Sabrina, still half-asleep, trailing behind her. Zelda was reading through the newspaper that came in the mail the day before. Sometimes it would be the local paper, but usually it was a paper from an outside source in another language. Mostly French or Russian, a hobby of hers that became a part of her routine, keeping the papers was new though. By seven, they would know if Ambrose came home, he’d come in a robe and slippers half desperate for a bowl of cereal. Zelda made her way back upstairs, she needed to be leaving for the school by seven thirty but she wanted to say goodbye to her still sleeping daughter. Vida was sleeping in the center of the bed on her stomach, still wrapped in her blankets and holding Oso by one of his fuzzy paws. Gently, Zelda fell to her knees by the bed where her daughter slept, pressing a kiss on the girls head.

“See you later my sweet girl.” Vida murmured a little and Zelda held her breath, fearful that she woke her daughter, but the girl settled down once again. As carefully as she did coming in, Zelda left, she made it to the door when her daughters voice stopped her.

“Mommy?” When Zelda turned back around, Vida moved so that she was facing her mother.

“Go back to sleep baby. Mommy has to go to work. Aunt Hilda will take you to school, I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Okay. Love you Mommy.” Zelda couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes, she just felt so much for her daughter, her precious little girl. Zelda went back and gave Vida another kiss, this time on her cheek. When they hugged, her daughter’s small arms felt warm and heavy on her shoulders.

“I love you too my darling.” The clock sounded the half hour and Zelda reluctantly left her daughters side, it wouldn’t look good if she was late on her first day. Hilda and Sabrina were waiting by the door, Hilda sent them off with a hug and a packed lunch.

Zelda made it with five minutes to spare. Before the holiday break she had everything already set up. Her first class syllabus as well this school year student planner were already set up on the desks, which she arranged in neat rows and attendance sheets on her desk, dated and ready to go. At the sound of the bell, students started trickling in, before the late bell rang she had all seventeen of her students for French 3, they made a strong impression on Zelda.

From there the day seemed to be going well. Her Russian and Italian classes went relatively well minus a poor freshman student who ended up in her class by mistake. It was at the start of period 4 when the day started to blow up in her face. At the end of third period she had to step out to use the restroom, it was only five minutes, seven tops, but when she came back her students, jocks by the look of their jackets, had destroyed her class room. Desks were pushed out of line and there were smudges on her black boards that weren’t there before, caused most likely by the football that was being tossed around. That same football smacked her right in the face. At least it got them to settle down. Despite the setback, and the stinging of her cheek, Zelda carried on like nothing happened.

“Alright students, listen up I’m only going to say this once. I don't like to repeat myself so if you miss it that’s on you. My name is Ms. Spellman and I am here to teach you Spanish not to be your friend, or your babysitter. I’m an educator here to educate a group of young adults, I expect you all to act as such. Which means I don’t want to see that football again in my class Mr. Grinwis, next time you lose it.” The whole class looked at him, he tried not to flush with embarrassment as he slouched in his seat hiding his football in his jacket. “By the end of the week I expect you all who didn’t read the supply list to have a composition notebook that will be used for this class and this class only. You will be leaving your notebooks in here, placing them in the designated bin for this class.” Zelda indicated the row of bins that sat on the window ledge behind her desk, each bin had a tab on the front that had the period and class. “Those of you who do not have a notebook by the following Monday will lose half a point everyday until you acquire one. Those who did read the supply list and already have a notebook will receive five extra credit points. By the end of class place your notebooks in the bin with your names written on them like they say in your syllabus.” Some of her students groaned while a few smiled, Zelda was already making notes on who was getting those extra credit points. “Now I won’t be going over the whole syllabus, I’m sure you can do that on your own, but these are some things I will point out…” She discussed the syllabus until the lunch bell, her students practically ran out of the room except Rosalind and Susie who lingered to place their journals, properly filled out, in the bin.

By then her cheek was killing her, she was hoping to avoid having to do it but it looked like she was going to the nurses office. The trip turned out to be a complete waste of time, the nurse asked her a bunch of questions before sending her with an ice pack and calling it a day. Zelda scoffed, making a mental note to keep aspirin in her desk, but couldn’t dwell on it. She was hungry for lunch. Lunch turned out to be a turkey sandwich with apple slices, sun baked chips, and a drink pouch that Zelda couldn’t confirm wasn’t for Sabrina. Zelda wasn’t going to complain. The ice numbed her cheek enough to get through most of her sandwich but by her apple slices it became difficult to chew let alone bite.

“That looks serious.” Mary Wardwell stood in her doorway again, this time to her private office where Zelda took her lunch, wanting some peace. “What happened?”

“Football to the jaw.”

“Boys.” The amount of venom in Ms. Wardwell’s voice would have surprised Zelda if she didn’t already know about her fellow teachers dislike for the football players. It was one of the reasons why Sabrina liked Ms. Wardwell. “Think that they can get away with anything. Here,” Ms. Wardwell held out a small white bottle. “I heard you might need these.” Aspirin, Zelda took two dry having finished the juice pouch. When she looked up ready to give back the bottle, Ms. Wardwell was gone leaving nothing behind but the smell of her perfume. For a moment Zelda thought she was delusional but she couldn’t have imagined the woman, the evidence was in her hands. Which led her to wonder, how did Ms. Wardwell learn about the forming bruise on her face?

“Auntie Zee are you okay?” Sabrina, it made perfect sense now. Rosalind and Susie were in her class when it happened, they told her niece and somewhere along the way Ms. Wardwell heard. Reassuring her niece took the rest of the lunch hour, but Zelda suspected that Sabrina still had doubts that she was truly okay.

Four o’clock could not be more of a relief for Zelda. She didn’t have anything to grade, first day of the school year and all, but Principal Hawthorne called a staff meeting when she was packing up for the day. It was a little irritating, she had cleaned and set up her black boards for the next day, her cheek was throbbing again, and all she wanted was to go home and be with her family, she missed her daughter terribly. Her irritation boiled to a seething rage when it became clear that the meeting was about football of all things. Mr. Hawthorne made it clear, in an off handed manner that just deepended her anger, that all staff members were to attend Greendale Highs first home game of the season which was this Saturday. It took him an hour to say this and she could tell that she wasn’t the only one that was not pleased with having to attend and having her time wasted with something that could be announced over the intercom or in a memo. Ms. Wardwell looked particularly murderous, she kept glaring, her eyes looked darker than their crystal blue color, and her fingers wouldn’t stop tapping against the long wood table that the teaching staff gathered around. She was the first to leave when they were dismissed, scowling in a way that everyone heard her as she walked out the door. Zelda was not that far behind her, gathering her things so that she could leave straight to her car, but Mr. Hawthorne asked if she could stay for a minute, considering what mood she was in he should be grateful that she planted her feet and placed on the most civilized smile she could muster.

“Was there something else you needed Mr. Hawthorne?”

“I just wanted to see how you were feeling after your first day. I heard about the um…”

“The football that was being thrown in my class and struck me in the face.”

“Yes, that. It looks quite painful.” Zelda didn’t need Mr. Hawthorne to tell her that. When she went to the bathroom not long after school let out she saw her own face and cringed. That blasted football hit her on the apple of her cheek, the bruise spread to look like she had a black eye and the color… no wonder her sixth period Chinese class wouldn’t look her in the face, it was ghastly, black and blue with a hint of red and her cheek swelled about half its normal size. “It was an unfortunate accident I’m sure?” That tone, it made her sick, because while it was an accident, if on the off chance it wasn’t it was going to be written as such and there was nothing she could do about that.

“Is that all Mr. Hawthorne? I’m tired and would like to start heading home.”

“Of course. Would you like an escort?”

“No thank you Mr. Hawthorne I can manage on my own.”

“Oh. Very well. What about Saturday? I know Greendale isn’t that big but did you need a ride to the game or afterwards?” A violent shiver went down Zelda’s back at the thought of being alone with Mr. Hawthorne, she didn’t like being alone in a room with him a car was just unthinkable.

“No thank you Mr. Hawthorne I’m sure I can manage. May I?” Mr. Hawthorne barely nodded when she, in a single swoop, took her case and coat and took her leave. When she glanced at her watch the time was four thirty, a whole half hour wasted, on something she didn’t care about when all she wanted to do was to go home and be with her daughter.

Ten minutes later Zelda was pulling up in front of Greendale Elementary, she remembered the building back when Sabrina was a student and it hasn’t change at all. Students waited with teachers as parents came in and out, most of them on foot, to collect their children. Students who had a sibling or relatives in the upper schools or in grade fourth or higher were allowed to walk home themselves, only with parental consent, at least that’s what Zelda remembered back when Sabrina was a grade schooler. Vida was waiting for her in the small school yard, supervised by a teacher as she and other children played on the jungle gym, swinging as high as her little legs could take her.

“Mommy!” When her feet touched the ground she ran over to Zelda. Hilda did her hair in pigtails they bounced like little springs. She scooped her daughter up, holding her close.

“Hello my darling, you have no idea how I missed you. Did you have a good day?” Her daughter just nodded, she was probably just as tired as Zelda was. Zelda located a teacher, another thing she remember from Sabrina was that only an authorized person (a list which was provided at enrollment) can take the child, if they were grade three or under one teacher would have a list of all the students and Zelda signed by her daughters name. Vida was asleep by the time Zelda placed her in her car seat, she looked peaceful, shadows of the woods and the leaves playing across her face as they drove home after a long day. Nothing felt better.

#Zelda Spellman #Madam Satan #madam spellman

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panticwritten · 6 years

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Breaking Furnace - Solitary: Chapter 3

Chapter Three: The Face of the Resistance

Table of contents!

All of my writing!

Sorry about the late update! Work was more exhausting than I expected yesterday, so I ended up going to a friend’s house for dinner and relaxation. I should have scheduled the post earlier, but what can you do?

(I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so HERE.)

Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.

Word count: 2067

Content warnings for this chapter:

Character death

Feel free to message me if I’m missing any.

Chapter four will be up on August 17th at 7pm PST.

If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!

♥️♥️♥️C♥️♥️♥️

I don’t remember this hurting so much.

None of it hurt back then.

Now, though, the jutting stone beneath me tears my knees and forearms. The walls of the tunnel, convex and unyielding, prevent my lungs from filling completely. I know I can get through this, I know I’m capable, but Sawyer’s imagination has gotten better. They definitely aren’t a child anymore. They understand that none of this could possibly be easy.

Which is great for them, but I can’t fucking breathe.

I catch sight of the final obstacle. This one will decide whether we make it or not.

A blade of rock hangs from the ceiling of the tunnel to guard the last stretch. I think Alex described it as a guillotine in the original story. It’s as accurate as anything else, I suppose. That’s not as much of a problem as the upturn to the tunnel afterward that might make it impossible to go on.

I try not to think about the possibility of not fitting as I squirm forward. If only to distract myself from the deadly edge of the blockage tugging against my skull, I muse that Sawyer wouldn’t have made it through this. They’d have freaked out before we ever got to this part.

It might have been before we even made it to the river. I love them to death, but the one place they can’t seem to leave alone just happens to be underground. Scared of the dark, scared of the caves, scared of hei—

Fuck.

“You good?”

Alex’s voice remains muffled in the dead air of the tunnel, but I zero in on him instead of the sudden pain in my lower back. I remain as still as possible, taking stock on how fucked I am so I can answer.

I’m almost through. The angle I’m wedged in isn’t comfortable at all, but I don’t think I’m stuck. I hope that crack I felt was just my joints popping. Yeah, we’ll go with that in the interests of not panicking and hopefully getting the hell out of here.

“Yeah.” I cringe at the hiss in my voice, and I can’t quite unclench my jaw while I’m talking. “Yeah, I’m fine. Y’all okay back there?”

“‘Y’all?’” Zee repeats, even quieter than Alex in his distance. “Aren’t you from Oregon?”

“Are you really nitpicking my fucking dialect when I can’t move?” This time I don’t even try to smooth my voice out or stop the half-hysterical laugh that comes with it. “Take it up with Sawyer. Better yet, take it up with the country obsessed, neglectful assholes that let someone get so fucked in the head they’d go through this shit—”

Someone—Alex, the only person who could since he’s right behind me—pinches the back of my leg and I shut the hell up.

“We’re good. Just get out of the way.”

I take a deep breath. Zee’s just trying to lighten the mood, and I know that.

I inch forward.

When my back doesn’t spasm, when I can still feel my legs, when I manage to drag myself to the top of the incline without losing anything but my dignity and a good amount of sanity, I nearly weep in relief. I hug the top of the mound of stone while the pain in my back fades, my feet still braced against this side of the makeshift guillotine.

I don’t move until I hear Alex’s laugh behind me and feel a smack against my ankle.

I heave my exhausted body up and sit at the edge of the tunnel’s end. The beam of my light reveals the floor a good ways down. The wall between here and there’s fairly inclined, so we’re not gonna die trying to get down.

I’ll likely get an earful from Sawyer about that particular outburst later. If not for the things I said, then simply for snapping at Zee.

I look back to see Alex struggling significantly less than I did. He’s small, already skinny before coming to the near-starvation Furnace offers its inmates. I didn’t expect him to have trouble.

He takes my hand up, and I shift to the side to let him get past. I catch him by the wrist before he can slide down the hill, though.

“You need to pull Gary out,” I mutter. I hope my voice is low enough, Zee’s struggles below loud enough to keep the idiot in question from hearing me. “So I can get the others out without them getting hurt.”

“What do you—” He cuts off, snapping around to look back at the space they’ll all need to squeeze through.

Jimmy would be able to fit through that block. Monty, Kevin, and Donovan, though? I could have hurt myself and I’m smaller than two of them by a long shot.

Alex doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t make any move to leave our perch. He just leans back down with me to help Zee through the hard part.

The nervous glance the shorter boy directs at me before sliding down the hill is like a kick to the teeth. I swear I wasn’t mad at him, it was the damn tunnel, but he’s still gone before I find anything to say. His light sweeps the cavern from below, and I wonder how long we have.

“Crap—”

Alex falls backwards, Gary shooting out of the tunnel and knocking the both of them down the hill. I stay at the top of the mound long enough to make sure they’re both moving before I delve back into the tunnel myself.

Kevin already has his head forced through the gap under the blade, cursing quietly. I can see from here, his shoulders won’t fit through.

“Back up, idiot,” I mutter, reaching out to press a hand against the stone.

His head disappears.

I tense my hand.

The bottom half of the blockage shatters, the loose rocks cluttering the floor of the tunnel. It probably won’t be fun to shuffle through that, but it’s not unyielding anymore.

Kevin mutters something that doesn’t sound all that grateful, but I still withdraw. They should be able to get down here soon.

“He’s not gonna last long like this,” Alex says in a low voice when I skid to a stop at the bottom of the hill.

Gary sways on his feet not too far away, his light unsteady. I know that coming out of the tunnel does something to his body—I’ve never had an occasion to find out what—and the blood streaking the lower half of his face confirms this run isn’t an exception.

“We’re still okay on the timeline,” I answer eventually, turning my light into the maze of stalagmites dotting the cavern. “We’ll go when—”

“Nice trick, Sawyer.” Kevin claps me on the back, more friendly than I ever want him to address me again. “What else are you hiding?”

“Easier than I remember,” Donovan calls from the top of the hill. With the sound of sliding gravel in the background, I focus back in on the cavern itself.

The sounds in the distance could easily be written off as falling rocks or dripping water. Bats, maybe, but we know better. We shouldn’t still be here, not with Gary in the condition he is or the very real possibility of getting trapped here. Monty and Jimmy just need another minute.

I’m not losing anyone else.

“That’s everyone,” Alex says somewhere behind me, quieter than before. He must have heard them, too.

“Okay.” I turn back to the group and count everyone, to be sure. I only relax when all eight of us are here. “Let’s go.”

~-S-~

“Lies.”

I try not to react to the voice. I keep my gaze directly on Cross, I listen to him explain how he could possibly know where the inmates will show up. Still, I’m not sure if I’m really hearing him.

It all makes sense when he says it.

The rats are reacting to their presence. They’re coming from the south, so he has soldiers set up there. He’ll wait with them while I set up for the five inmates we’ll put directly on the nectar.

“Cross knew.”

I stiffen, and this time Cross stops talking.

I only notice because a tendril of nectar sweeps around the edges of my mind when he does. The feeling of someone standing over my shoulder vanishes, and I hope the voice won’t come back. I don’t think Cross is going to let this go.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, the same phrase and tone as always. It’s fucking obnoxious.

I do have something to offer him, though.

“I don’t know if I can oversee—” I almost say the name, but a burst of nectar colors the edges of my vision black. “Number 209. The nectar reacted badly when I read his file.”

To my surprise, Cross grins.

“That, we can speak about when we have the escaped prisoners secured.” He rises from his chair. “Get to the infirmary. You should have time to prepare enough nectar for our guests.”

The voice returns out of nowhere with a snort that echoes back and forth through my head. I manage not to flinch, though, so that’s a plus.

“How—” A burst of static nearly smothers the next word, and it comes out with a much different inflection. “—theatrical.”

At least I can agree with that.

He sweeps out of the room before I get a chance to say anything. By the time I manage to follow him out, he’s nowhere to be seen, so I start for the infirmary.

The voice, so close to my ear I nearly can’t keep from looking, crackles again.

“What do you remember from your time away?”

♥️♥️♥️C♥️♥️♥️

We manage to walk in peace for longer than I expect. I can almost convince myself that we’re exploring the caves back home. The idea that Scorpix could appear to pull us back to the Cube at any moment soothes my nerves.

Which means I’m too comfortable when those distant sounds pause.

The rats know we’re here.

I don’t know how much further we have to go. I don’t know how many rats there are. I don’t know exactly which way we need to go, not in this dark. I don’t even know if Simon bothered to make sure we make it through this time.

I barely consider the possible consequences before I throw my hand above my head. The intent flows along my skin like water, flicking up into the air. Four orbs balloon from my fingers and stick in the cavern above us.

I’m not sure if the mutters of surprise are about the sudden light or too-many rats weaving between the stalagmites. Strangely, though, they aren’t headed in our direction.

I remove my hard hat and discard it on the ground. I don’t need it anymore.

A hoard of twisted children with nectar black veins staining their skin a spotty gray flow the same way we’re going. Many of them pause to screech at the new lights, but the sound of gunshots up ahead is enough of an explanation. It’s enough, and it almost pulls a laugh out of me.

Cross tried to wait for us before the rats could find us.

Why would they care about a group of pitiful scraps of meat when the blacksuits are right there? Great big bags of nectar gathered in a cavern. Good plan in theory, not so great in practice.

Still, the sound of struggle doesn’t last long.

I wonder where Sawyer is right now? Waiting with the warden? Biding their time in the lab? Could they already have fled to join Simon in the tunnels?

God, I hope so.

The lights above us begin to fade when I catch sight of the opening in the wall all of the rats must have fled through. The brighter light streaming through the opening almost looks like the sun, though only three of us would be liable to believe it really is.

Gary, in whatever stupor his injuries have landed him, immediately streaks ahead of the group. No one tries to stop him. We watch him disappear into the light.

I stop a good distance away from the end of our trek through the caves. The others don’t, though.

The feeling of playing delivery boy for the formula that works finally gets to fall away. We only have a few more yards and I won’t be able to rely on the past anymore. I can’t predict Cross like I can the tunnels.

What if he decides to just end it now?

“Where’s Sawyer?”

I sigh at the warden’s snarl and force myself to continue around the corner and into the too-bright light. Eyes shaded against the spotlights, I join the jolly crew in the chamber connecting the prison compound to the tunnels.

I stop again just inside, eyes on the small group huddled at the warden’s feet. Six of them. Gary’s already gone, swept into the infirmary like clockwork, though the hoard of blacksuits lining the walls of the cave leave no chink in the armor.

All evidence there was a fight with the rats has vanished, as well, save for pools of nectar dotting the floor.

“Ah, here he is.” Cross clasps his hands together. A mockery of pride hides in his shark’s grin. “Can’t very well lose our guest of honor, can we?”

I don’t know if this apathy is another new effect of being half of who I was or if it’s from Sawyer’s preoccupation. Maybe two years in the prison has finally caught up with me. I just don’t care as much as I should when I don’t find Sawyer waiting in the chamber.

I’d know if they were dead. The worst possibility is solitary, and they can run with us if that’s the case. I can’t worry about them.

The anger rising at Cross’s commentary is a little harder to swallow down.

“Impressive, as ever. It would have been more so, had you arrived with your full entourage, but we can’t have everything.”

He uses the same lines against Sawyer. They’re insecure about how willing they are to let people die.

Me? Brand new head on my shoulders. Even with irritation and fear coursing through my veins, I manage to keep my response to a mere shrug.

Without his gaze or his grin wavering, he raises a hand. A number of blacksuits step forward to pull everyone to their feet.

Well. Not everyone.

Cross stops a suit trying to grab Monty and Jimmy.

The others, however, turn confused and curious eyes on me as they’re pulled through a tunnel up ahead. I try a smile that I hope is reassuring, but I’m not sure how well it transfers. Time to see how he’s going to play it, and I’m nowhere close to being sure of his plans.

If Cross decides to kill me here, we’re fucked.

But he’s not even looking at me.

While the rest of the suits file out—leaving me alone with the warden—he stoops to inspect the two unresponsive kids.

“Montgomery Earl,” he says, and I know he must still be talking to me because Monty doesn’t even look up. “All of this mess, just because you were assigned to the wrong part of the damned prison.”

“Not because you turned him in the first place?” I mutter.

He barks a laugh, the sound a punch to my stomach.

His hand shoots forward, though it looks wrong. I realize, once both Monty and Jimmy both crumple lifeless in a heap on the floor, that it’s a glittering blade of nectar. He straightens up as though he does this every day.

The shining flecks of purple in the blade wink at me as it retracts under his skin.

He has the violet nectar.

He finally looks at me.

The air changes the instant the indignation, anger, hate, catches up with the tumble of my thoughts. He just killed them. Looked at them and decided they wouldn’t be worth it. Decided to cut them down before they even got a chance to fight.

Just because Monty told Alex not to forget his name in the first iteration of this universe.

I don’t get a chance to say anything with Cross suddenly blocked out by Virtuoso inches in front of me. This close up in the light, I realize what makes them look wrong compared to Sawyer.

A spark from their eyes touches my cheek and a dense fog in my head locks my limbs and keeps my brain from working. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

“I thought I would be too late.”

They lean forward and peer into my eyes. I can’t find the words to respond through the cotton they filled my head with. After a few seconds, they sigh and relax marginally.

“I was told you might not appreciate this.” They let go of my arms and take a step back. “It should keep you from killing me in the meantime, though, so we’ll see who wins that argument when I get back.”

I still can’t say anything. Can’t put together a single real thought. I struggle to lift the fog, but it won’t budge.

“I’ll level with you since I have you here. Since I can’t let this scene progress until your brain starts working again, hm?” They reach forward to push my hair out of my face. Their hand lingers on the side of my head. “You need to keep your mouth shut when Cross provokes you, Connor.

“You’re a more disposable version of Sawyer as far as he’s concerned. It’s a lot of pressure, I know. I doubt you’ll see an alternative once you two have your big reunion.”

They smile, and I catch a wisp of a thought. Too little, too late, I can’t comprehend what it was.

“But we all want to see Cross dead.”

Cross.

The fog breaks for an instant and it comes back marginally lighter. It must show somewhere in my face because Virtuoso drops their hand.

“Ah. There you are.”

Because it’s them, and because I’m still lagging behind in the whirlwind of my head, I open my mouth to address the matter at hand. The most pressing idea at the front of my brain. The absolute, most important thing, I can think of.

“You don’t have freckles.”

They blink at me.

Yes.

Not ‘you knew Dominic would die’—even though I’m so beyond being mad at them about that. Not ‘Monty and Jimmy are dead.’ Not ‘who are you, really?’

They don’t have freckles.

But the next time I blink, they do.

I couldn’t tell you if they’re all in the right places, but the subtle wrongness is nearly gone. I’ll hold my tongue about the absence of bags under their eyes. Though I have a feeling it’ll be pretty easy to tell the two apart down here, I need all the help I can get.

“Better?”

I nod, and they rub a hand over their face. I wonder if changing their appearance feels weird. Before they can take charge of the conversation again or blip out of existence, I take another shot.

“Is Sawyer okay?”

They hesitate, and my heart stutters in my chest. I feel like I’m asking this question all the damn time, and no one can give me a straight answer. Jay told me I should ask them myself. The blacksuits told me not to worry about it at all. Virtuoso says—

“They’d say they’re fine.” They shrug and cross their arms. “But they’ve always been good at ignoring the truth.”

Not dying, then.

“Especially when nectar’s involved and they have a dirty little enabler who won’t tell them when their ideas are terrible.”

Their pointed look—rude—is immediately overtaken by a small and tired smile.

“I guess you’re working hard, then?” I ask after a moment of awkward silence.

They shrug again.

“When you have more time to waste thinking about me than worrying about Cross, maybe I’ll show you.” They pause with a thoughtful tilt to their head. “The In-Between seems to like you well enough, at least.”

They shift to the side and I catch sight of the whole reason they’re here. The reason they had to come and stuff my head full of emptiness. Cross and the corpses laying at his feet.

Frozen in time, he seems to welcome any attempt on his life I might make. That damn smile stays on his face, and I nearly forget about Virtuoso being here. I take a step forward, but they still me with a tight grip on my arm.

“Remember.” They turn my head back toward them with their other hand. “Whatever you do, don’t give him a reason to kill you.”

“What’s keeping him from killing me right now?” I hiss.

They smile, and a diffusion of sadness seeps through my skin from their hands.

“He’s a cruel man, Connor.” They let go of me and step away. “It would be too kind to keep you and Sawyer from meeting again in this universe.”

There’s something wrong with Sawyer.

I would ask, but something tells me this meeting is as good as over. Sure enough, they turn to glare at Cross while they instruct me to get in the exact place I was when they paused time. It takes a few minutes, some prodding, and some cross words, but they end up satisfied by my hunched shoulders and balled fists.

They smile when they stop to knock my hair back into my face. I hadn’t even realized that it normally rests there, or that my hair has gotten so damn long.

“No matter how mad you might be,” they say eventually. “I promise that there was nothing alive in those two. Every word they said, everything they ever did outside of base processing, was a conscious decision on my part.”

“Why make Sawyer think they were part of the group? Isn’t that a little cruel?” It comes out testier than I mean, my eyes drifting back to their bodies.

They purse their lips.

“Sawyer likes to explain things. They needed an audience or they’d explode.”

They gesture for me to return my focus to Cross, so I do.

And him settling on his feet is apparently the only warning I get about time being real again. It’s physically painful not to look at where Virtuoso was just instants ago, but I manage to keep a glare leveled as close to Cross’s eyes as is possible.

“Is there a problem, Sawyer?” His grin morphs into a sneer on the last word.

After a minute to breathe, I don’t think I’m in danger of trying to kill him here and now. He seems to expect it of me, so it’s almost satisfying when I can swallow most of my anger down. Even more satisfying when I can spit out a direct lie without my voice shaking.

“They might get upset about losing ornaments—I’m not that sentimental.” I manage a smile. I hope it’s as cold as I want it to be. “They were empty before you got to them and you know it.”

He laughs again, and this time it echoes in the cavern. It’s just us. He turns away and I follow without prompting.

If Virtuoso’s worried enough to warn me so soon after letting Dominic die, the danger must be more real than I thought. I figured he wouldn’t actually kill me for no reason, but that’s what he’s really looking for isn’t it?

A reason.

So I follow and keep my mouth shut when he starts talking again.

“I knew you’d changed since the last time we met.” He says conversationally, as if he doesn’t know I want him dead. “For the better, it seems. That anger will do you well here.”

I don’t answer.

The old line of anger making the nectar-borne brainwashing stronger is still alive and well. Even after being defeated seven times (eight, if you include the original books), he thinks he’s the strong one here. Even if Sawyer and I fall through the cracks, Alex has beaten him before without extra help.

He’s far too confident.

“This prison has had some changes as well. You’ll grow intimately familiar with them when you’ve done your time in solitary.”

We pass by the infirmary, and my breath catches in my throat at the crimson light streaming through the slats. Even so, I look on instinct to see a pair of narrowed eyes trained on me. They’re darker than I remember.

Even on a stool, I can tell they’ve grown taller. Nectar can do that, even the violet stuff they favor. That, with their eyes and the sleek pink hair pulled into a high ponytail, I almost don’t recognize them. It’s not the first time a universe has changed what they look like.

It seems their face is the only thing that hasn’t changed about Sawyer.

The feeling of being watched follows even after they fall out of my sight.

Cross chuckles as we round a corner and the lids of the steel cells come into view.

“Plenty of changes.”

I can’t keep up with all of the ways my mind’s running. Sawyer said something, in the very beginning, about him being terrifyingly friendly. Cheerful. Almost kind.

I watched him murder Monty and Jimmy in front of my eyes, now he’s escorting me personally to my cell. From 60 to 0 in a second, from his perspective. Acting like there’s any reason I might change sides if he’s kind.

Though, isn’t that what he thinks happened with Sawyer? He gave them the option, handed the nectar right to them, and they chose him over the rest of us? He knows how loyal I am to them.

I don’t have the balls to try bluffing my way in and out of his twisted family, though. Sawyer’s already there. They’ve always been there.

This really is just the latest example of that.

Maybe I am an enabler. As long as it’s not me, right?

I sigh under the clatter of the cell opening. Cross doesn’t acknowledge it if he even heard it. He inclines his head toward the hole at my feet, and I don’t wait to be told again.

It’s cold and dark down here, and I only catch a glimpse of his standard grin before the lid slams shut. I stare at the ceiling until the negative of it fades into nothing.

Thank god I’m not scared of the dark.

#writing #madd #maddart #my writing #bf #bf writing and info

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dotheflip-blog · 7 years

Text

Sweet Moments

Y/N wakes up to Tom making pancakes after everyone crashes at the party. A sizzling skillet can make for some sweet moments.

Tom Holland x Reader

(Be gentle, please! I’ve literally never written an imagine before)

1800+ words

You crinkle your nose as a familiar scent crawls into your nasal cavity. Groggily, you lift your head and slowly open your eyes to a living room covered in sleeping bodies and beer cans. You can barely recall the events that took place at the Holland’s annual house party. Every year, it’s bigger than the years before it. The living room alone looks to cover the entire neighborhood. You laugh to yourself, imagining the fun you must’ve had when a distant sizzling noise grabs your attention. You twist your head and notice the kitchen light just barely peaking through the almost shut door. Curious as to why someone would be awake at 4 AM steals your attention as you make your way towards the light.

You peak your head through the door to see that of Tom Holland flipping a pancake without a care in the world. His chestnut curls hang over the pan as his face holds pure concentration for making the perfect pancake. The kitchen door lets out a slight creek and your cover is blown.

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone was awake!” he exclaims, shooting a smile that leads his eyes to wrinkle.

A pain comparable to being shot aches just behind your forehead. Your hand instinctively moves to cover it, showing your obvious discomfort.

“Was some night, huh?” he snickers while reaching to grab a teapot off the counter, “Here, have the best hangover tea ever created. Trust me, I’ve tried them all.”

You manage a smile as you take a seat at the edge of the island counter-top. Tom pours your cup as you observe his messy set up consisting of flour going everywhere except the mixing bowl and batter smeared across the granite.

“What are you doing up this early?” You mumble while taking your sip.

“Jet-lag,” he shrugs, “My body can’t seem to get used to all these different time-zones.”

You nod, recalling all the months Tom isn’t home. The two of you have been next door neighbors since you were six. Spending every day outside together quickly turned into seeing Tom every few months with his growing career. You couldn’t help but miss having him around.

“A busy man lives a busy life,” you shrug playfully.

A smile creeps through the corners of his mouth as his eyes soften onto yours, “Yeah, but I can’t help missing home.”

You feel your face flush as you try to cover it with the tea mug. His almond irises are just as captivating now as they were out on the swings all those years ago.

“A-Anyways,” you attempt to switch subjects, “why pancakes?”

“Because of you, believe it or not.”

You choke on the tea in which he lets out a laugh lighter than a cloud. “Me? Why me?”

“You don’t remember? How could you!” His eyebrow furrows like a sad puppy.

You give him a hard look before remembering the summer of you two playing chef in the mud as kids. When it was Tom’s turn to make you a pretend creation, all he would serve were mudpies which he called “pancakes”. They never truly looked anything like pancakes but you played along and pretended to scarf every last one down because his mudpie pancakes were always five stars.

“Your famous mudpies!” You let out a laugh as he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Y/N! They were pancakes!”

“Well I think that one is definitely a mudpie now,” you nod towards the one Tom has been ignoring since you walked into the kitchen.

Tom’s face turns pale as he remembers what he was even doing in the first place. He scrambles to flip the pancake to an exposed layer of char. Tom groans as you snicker at his failure.

“Even with your new celebrity life, you’re still the same Tom.”

“No, those acting classes definitely taught me how to perfect pancakes. If they didn’t I don’t know what I was paying them for. I’ll be writing a strongly worded letter- I promise you that,” he jokes as he tosses the blackened pancake in the trash and pours a new one into the skillet.

You watch patiently as his concentration returns. He gets a good hold of the skillet and flips the cake twice successfully. His eyebrows raise as if he’s just as impressed with himself as you are. Tom looks to you for approval like that of a little kid.

“Maybe your acting classes did teach you something after all.”

Tom finishes the pancake and slides it on a plate in front of you. “There, try it.”

“Without any syrup?”

“How are you going to know if I’ve perfected genius if you smother it in syrup?”

You grin at his clever answer before diving into his fluffy creation. It wasn’t the greatest you’d ever had but that goofy look he had waiting for your reaction was practically begging you to be head over heels. You stand up straight in the same way you did when you played the food critic as a child.

“Zees,” you tap into your horrid french accent like that of Ratatouille, “Zees is incredible! Five stars!”

He looks to the invisible crowd and immerses himself in pride as he bows, “It’s been an honor serving you, Madame.”

“Oui, but can you do zees a second time? Zat is zee question.”

He chuckles as he already motions to the pancake batter, “You bet your ass I can do it as many times as you like.”

Before you knew it, Tom had made five perfectly round pancakes stacked on-top of each other. You pretend to judge their height, touching the center to measure the amount of fluff.

“Sir Tom of Southwest London,” you swivel off your stool and reach for the Reddi-Whip inside the fridge, “I reward you with zees, my country’s most prized possession, the whip of reddi”

Tom holds out both hands as you move to give him the can. Just before it reaches his finger tips, you remove the cap and bend the nozzle toward his face. The puffs of cream cover his face as his mouth and eyes dart open in shock. You burst out laughing at the sight. Tom quickly wipes the cream off his eyes and snatches the bottle from you. You instantly back away and run to the other side of the island counter-top.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me, Y/N!” He playfully threatens.

“ Sacré bleu! You can not attack your critic!”

“Watch me!” He bends the nozzle across the counter in your direction. You easily dodge. He then rips off pieces of one of the uneaten pancakes and tosses it in your direction, landing directly into your hair. Tom takes this moment of distraction and dashes around the corner of the island. You let out a shriek as you run away.

Tom’s laugh as he chases you in circles is so heartwarming to hear. Even though he hasn’t been around, you made sure to always watch his interviews. Every one of them held fake smiles and forced laughter. You knew that wasn’t Tom. This was Tom. This twenty-one year old child chasing you with a can of Reddi-Whip. This boy who stole your heart making mudpies and always waiting for your approval. This-

“Ah!” You hear a loud thump and realize Tom’s body isn’t in sight anymore. “Ouch, that hurt a lot.” Tom groaned in pain as you rushed to the other side of the island to see Tom laying on the tile. You fall to your knees to get a better look

“Are you okay?! Did you break anyth-”

Before you could make out another word, whipped cream covered your sight. Tom’s cackles alone could’ve been cloaked in evil.

“Told you you weren’t getting away from me this time!”

You wipe the cream away to see Tom’s face red from laughing and his eyes doing the crinkling thing you always loved when he looked at you. Your stomach turns to butterflies as your heart melts. He has you right where he wants you every moment you two are together. His invisible tether keeps your love for him from venturing away.

“That’s your specialty, isn’t it?” You smile softly, “Bringing me back to you.”

Tom’s face travels from laughing to surprised, and then to serious. Your eyes follow Tom’s movements as he shuffles onto his knees to face you head-on. Before you can question what he’s up to this time, his lips crash into yours. His hands cuff on your whipped cream covered cheeks as your mind rushes blank. Your body tells you to kiss back and you obey. His mouth tastes like the sugary cream, which oddly enough, is how you always imagined it to taste. His curls fall onto your forehead as you bring him closer. A moan escapes his teeth in response. You giggle into his mouth before pulling away. His smile is brighter than ever before. You take a moment to collect yourself before letting go of his shirt. Your cheeks are burning and your heart feels like it could implode any second.

What just happened? There’s no way that just happened!

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He shyly pushes back his curls.

“You’ve been wanting to do that?” You scoff in happy disbelief.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs followed by a gleam, “I love you.”

In that instant, your whole life fell apart- in the best way possible. Your theories of getting stuck with someone you hate, living a boring life with them. All of your thoughts broke at the utter of those three measly words. Tears began to weld as you remembered that this is real. Tom, the boy next door known for making top of the line mudpies, just told you he loved you.

“And I know you love me too,” He chuckles, watching your eyes water. You can’t manage words or else you’ll truly cry so all you give him is a rapid nod. “I should’ve told you all those years ago, but.. I was afraid. My career was beginning. If I told you, I’d be broken leaving your side even for a second,” He buries his hands into his face in an attempt to mask his blush, “I know I chose a horrible time to say it with me in the middle of filming Spider-Man. It’s just you.. Looking at you.. Like this.. I just couldn’t help it-”

“Tom,” you interrupt with tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Yes?” He peaks at you through his fingers.

“Say it again.”

“Which part?”

“Say it again.” You had to hear him say it again. You had to make sure he truly said it.

A smile stretches across Tom’s face as he sits up straight with confidence. “I love you, Y/N.”

You lay your lips onto his once more as your tears brush onto his cheeks. He pulls back and picks a piece of pancake out of your hair before putting it into his mouth. He lets out a soft giggle and makes eye contact with you all the while.

“What’s so funny?” You question.

“You’re right, my pancakes are five star quality.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker #imagine

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ironzombes · 7 years

Text

Zue - age 8; fear of water

<<Zee, whacha doin’ in ‘ere?>>

<<I’z wanda go…>>

Mao wasn’t that much older than him. She was only a few years older, maybe three or four. But she always seemed to speak like she was much older than she should’ve been. Maybe it was because she was one of the oldest living siblings Zue had. Maybe she thought it was her duty to be like some sort of parent. He wasn’t too sure. But for a girl as old as twelve or so to be yelling at him, it made him flush from shame.

<<Ya know ya cannt be ina ‘ere.>> She sighed softly as she pulled away from her work briefly to face him. Her face was already smudged from the mine dust and her hands looked like they had been bleeding earlier. It had taken him a long time to find her. There were so many twists and turns down here he wasn’t used to. It was uncommon for children like him, the forgotten ones who couldn’t work the mines, to come down here and try any ways. It was easy to sneak past the guards. The other workers didn’t even seem to mind. What was one more body to find? It meant one less mouth to feed which meant for supplies. Let the forgotten children kill themselves. The boy knew this. And he exploited it sometimes to come see Mao.

<<Butta I’z->>

<<Naw ouv ‘em butta. Ya get. ‘Ere.>>

The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of turraile, as red as both of their hair. It was small, no more than a speck, but it meant so much. She shoved this into his hands as he opened his mouth to protest.

<<Butta Mao-!>>

<<I tol’ ya get. Koi ought feed ya, ja?>> She reached up to rub at the dirt on her forehead, although that didn’t make any difference. She ended up just smudging some of it around before turning back to her work. Mao had to get back to work in case the overseers came through. Zue knew how cruel they could be. Rather than argue with the older girl, he pouted and shoved the bit of metal into his pocket before trying to pick his way back out of the mines. The dust in the air hurt his lungs and chest and soon he was coughing badly from everyone’s work.

The boy didn’t know which way to go. It was difficult to find his way freely down here. He should’ve waited for Mao’s food break, whenever that had been. The other forgotten’s running around here didn’t seem to know any better. They ducked and dove around the workers, no doubt hoping to clean up some bit of metal. He stuffed his hand into his pocket. He had to get this to Koi. His stomach growled and hurt. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had ate last, but he was feeling sick between the hunger and dust. As he wandered longer, he felt himself getting more and more lost and that annoyed him. He felt tears prickling at his eyes. He wondered if he would die down here, but he could still see workers. So long as there were workers, he’d be fine. Right?

Zue kept pushing, hoping he was moving up, but not really knowing. Everything looked the same down here. He paused to huff and try to catch his breath as he watched some workers. There didn’t seem to be many down here and he figured this must be either new or finished. He thought about turning back. Maybe he could find Mao and wait with her. There was an odd sound coming from beside him and he thought there must be a tunnel that ran alongside this one. The workers didn’t seem bothered, so he wasn’t bothered. He sat a bit far from them, watching curiously as he tried to suck in the semi-clean air through his mask.

<<Whazza->> <<Oi, thisah- get!>>

Two men suddenly bolted and Zue knew better than to sit when someone ran. That’s how people died down here. He was quick to run after them, but he was still out of breath. He was tired and hurt. It wasn’t long before something slammed into him. It was as if the mines themselves shoved him forward and threw him against a wall, making him bite his tongue painfully and swallow a mouthful of blood. His head hurt as he pushed away from the wall, weakly looking down as shouts came from further down the tunnel.

Water.

Zue’s eyes were wide as he saw the water slowly climbing higher and higher. It was now to his knees, it’d should be up his legs. He huffed and started trying to run forward, but it was difficult and it weighed on him heavily. His clothes, soaked from the sudden breakage dragged him down. His body was drained from the lack of food. And he was panicking. He couldn’t swim. Every breath he sucked down as if it might be his last. This was where he died. No one cared about the forgotten.

He kept pushing even as the water climbed higher. To his hips. Now it was to his waist, dragging the coat down even more. He fumbled with his pocket, trying to reach inside for the metal Mao had given him. He had to keep it. He had to. She had worked so hard to give this to him. But he couldn’t find it. Everything felt wet and dark. He wasn’t sure if he was crying or not, but his face felt so incredibly wet and he shrugged off the coat, feeling the shame at having lost Mao’s gift. The only thing that would buy him something to eat tonight. He ripped off whatever else he could. Next were his shoes, the loose pants, the scarf wrapped around his face and head. He was down to the bare essentials and his mask. The water had risen to his chest and he bounced forward, trying very hard to keep pushing forward. He remembered this tunnel a bit. He knew it would go up.

His foot slipped and his head went underwater. He swallowed a mouthful of water, ripping off the mask and tossing it as he hacked up water. He clawed his way forward, seeing the turn up and where people were yanking each other up and out of the water. He had to get there. The water was too high. He tried to push harder on the ground. His head went under the water as he kept trying to bounce forward. The boy’s hands scrapped along the wall, trying to clutch and pull himself up.

<<Oi! It’za red ‘un!>>

Zue didn’t know what that meant, but his hands reached out and he tried so desperately to grab onto someone. He managed, but they shook his off and up they were lifted. He slipped and fell underwater. He tried to push up and get out but in his haste and panic he started swallowing mouthfuls of water. It tasted bitter. Like ash and dirt. It made fire spring up in his chest and he searched for anything. Anything to help him. He felt his body sinking as he tried to claw his way towards the front. The edges of his vision were getting darker and one final cry managed to escape him.

He was so sorry to be a forgotten.

Something hard struck his chest and he coughed up what felt like only a bit of the water in his body. His eyes opened weakly before he rolled over to cough up more and more water as someone struck his back. He felt wet and cold, shivering as he glanced around. There were a few men and women surrounding him and he looked at them through bleary eyes, trying to adjust to the harsh light. Where was he?

<<Ta red awok. Ha!>> A man said, slapping his back which caused another gush of water from him. Who was this man?

<<Zee! Zee!>> That was Mao. She pushed through and grabbed onto him. He grabbed back, shivering from the cold as he started crying against her. He clung onto her dirty clothes as she tried to open her jacket and cover him with it. <<Whacha dun? ‘Ou ya get thur’?>> She rocked with him a bit and he felt so foolish. She wasn’t that much older than him. He wasn’t a kid! He shouldn’t be crying. He tried to silence himself, biting down painfully on his lip to get himself to be silent.

<<Oi, oi, oi. Ya stahp, ja? ‘Ere, ‘ere.>> Mao pulled her arms back to open the jacket and pull it off. She wrapped it around him. <<Ya get, ja? Get home.>>

<<B-butta M-Mao!>>

<<Wha I’z sah? Naw butta! Ya get!>>

Mao shoved him off her lap, letting the jacket hand awkwardly on him as he stood on wobbly legs. She reached into her pocket to pull out the small scarf. It was dirty, but not nearly as dirty as the rest. She put it around his mouth as a makeshift mask. It was only then that Zue realized how furious Koi would be. He lost his coat, his scarf, his mask…everything. It was gone. It took a lot of effort to not start crying again.

<<Ta red good, ja? It’za good.>> The man who had been pounding on his back placed an arm on Mao’s shoulder. She stiffened under his grasp. <<Good, good, ja?>> He looked at her sideways. She forced on a smile.

<<Ya get Zee, ja? I’za home ina hop.>> She reached out to turn Zue around, pushing him forward. The boy glanced backwards, not liking the way the man stood so close to Mao. He wanted to protest but she kept pointing him off, towards the exit of the mines. He knew where he was now. He wondered how much had flooded and how far he had gone.

Zue walked home numbly, shivering in the jacket and pulling it tighter. The hot sun did its best to warm him, but all he could feel was the cold water. It was in his lungs. It made his blood run cold. He weakly managed to get home. All the older kids were at work. He saw a few of the younger ones milling around, chewing on bits of cloth or wood broken from the crates. Koi was there, pushing herself up from the chair. She was pregnant again. He wondered if this one would survive.

<<Whyz ya got Mao’s jack? Whacha do bo?>> She reached down and yanked him arm, pulling him further into the house. The pain from how hard she gripped was barely noticeable. <<Ya wet aza clow. Whacha do?!>> She raised her voice and he shrunk back away from her, now trying to pull his arm back.

<<I’z waz nuftin! It ‘ere mines, ‘ey->>

<<Ya nuftin but trouble, ja? Ya know, ja? Ou ya too stupped ta know?>>

Koi yanked the jacket off of him, leaving him shivering in the middle of the room as she continued to curse how useless he was. The tears felt hot on his face as he silently stood there, wrapping his arms around his body.

<<Ya cryin’, ja? Wha a stupped bo. Get. Ya get!>> She threw her hand towards the small room and he didn’t need to be told twice to go and sit in there. Zue took off the remaining clothes and huddled under his blanket. He heard Koi yelling at one of the crying babies. He couldn’t get the way that man stood so close to Mao out of his head. Everything hurt. Everything was a mess. He hated being a forgotten. For the moment, he sobbed silently until he fell asleep.

#ironwill #zue #characters

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