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#(most if not all of these are. once again i am incapable of choosing happy songs lmao)
moonchild-in-blue · 2 months
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Thank you for the tag @tonguetyd! My spoons are indeed low but my sleep schedule is GONE so. Random burst of energy let's go.
I didn't know what artist to pick because I didn't want an obvious (?) one, so I'm going super niche and choosing Bright Eyes because it's been a minute since I've talked about them, and they're one of my favourites 💙
Artist: Bright Eyes
How do you feel: Nothing Gets Crossed Out
What is your gender: Bowl Of Oranges (obviously funny but also it's a beautiful song! poetic storytelling!)
If you could go anywhere: Lua
Favorite mode of transportation: Driving Fast Through A Big City At Night (yes that is the title)
Your best friend: First Day Of My Life 🥹
Favorite time of day: Sunrise, Sunset
If your life was a tv show: A Line Allows Progress, A Circle Does Not
Relationship status: I Won't Ever Be Happy Again 🥲
Your fear: Waste Of Paint
Idk who made this or not so I'm tagging randomly, no pressure to do this whatsoever! @dearscone @corviisquire @hookedhobbies @politemagic (hi!) @leonsleftbicep @melit0n
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Rescue pt. 2: knight!price x princess!reader
Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women
A little longer than normal
Sir John Price’s hands were gentler than they looked.
He led you to the river when he saw the cut on your arm, and had you sit on a nearby rock. He barely said a word to you, just merely told you to sit while he grabbed a pouch out of his horses saddle and went to the river.
When he returned, he came back with a wet rag and kneeled beside you. He hesitated to touch you before he gently began to clean the blood from your skin.
You expected him to hold your arm firmly, to pull at your skin and create friction but instead he held you delicately. He was careful as he cleaned your wound, his gentleness a stark contrast to the bloodshed he created just moments before.
Every touch from his warm fingers made goosebumps form and set your skin aflame.
You jerked when the wound stung and he stopped.
“I’m sorry, my hands are rougher than most.” He apologized as if he caused the wound.
You’re at a loss of what to say.
You’d never seen this side to him, to the knight who you bickered and fought with, who you were sure hated your guts, who had become your shadow. You thought he was incapable of it, or at the very least incapable of showing this side to you.
“It was irresponsible for you to run off like that.” He scolded you and you scowled.
“Save the lecture, I’m not a child.” You snapped at him and his eyes narrowed.
“You run off into the forest without a care, you play into fantasies about secret admirers and ignore your duty as a princess-“
“Watch the way you speak to me.”
“Someone should tell you the truth, I’m not afraid of you.”
You pushed him away and stood up. You hated the way hands shook as you glared at him.
“You know nothing about me!” You shouted. “My entire life is for my people and I have always put them first. I spend every moment waiting for the day I’m sold like cattle in the name of peace while everyone looks at me like I’m a prize to be won.”
Your mouth moved faster than your thoughts. It was improper to your knight this, to even speak of your thoughts like this out loud but you were at your wits end.
“I listen to others boast about themselves so I can choose them while they don’t even see me-“
“You seemed happy when the king did it-“
“Because it’s my duty! If I don’t marry him then i am failure…I am nothing more than a link in a chain of security.”
Your throat was tight and you could hardly breathe.
“My life has never been my choice.” You choked out. “I am destined to be an object that creates an heir and thrown to the side once I’ve served my purpose.”
Price was silent and your ragged breaths were the only thing that took up the air.
You felt awful for your feelings. These things were irresponsible, you were selfishly thinking more about yourself than the greater good but you were so desperate for something different.
“Why did you run?” Price asked, his tone softer.
You blinked as the back of your eyes stung with tears.
“I had to get away.”
Your emotions swirled like a storm within you, your thoughts a mess. The attack, your marriage, his kindness, it was all too much.
A surge of tears hit you and you sat down on the rock again, hiding your face in your hands as they began to fall down your face. You stifled your sobs because you didn’t want to degrade yourself anymore in front of him.
He stepped in front of you.
“Your highness, do you wish to marry the king?” Price’s voice was calm and firm yet there was a softness that struck your chest.
“I have to-“
“No.”
Your eyebrows knitted together and you looked up from your hands.
Price kneeled in front of you, much like how squires are when they wait for the Queen to knight them so they can serve the kingdom. His cold blue eyes stared at you as if he waited for a command, a sort of devotion only one could have for someone who they served implicitly.
He waited patiently for you to answer, his eyes trained on your face as you wiped away your tears.
You debated on whether you should say it or not, but he already thought you irresponsible. What more did you have to lose?
“No.”
Price stated at you for a moment before he seemed to come to terms with what you said. There was a sense of finality in his eyes as he nodded, before he stood and pulled out the pouch.
“Let me finish tending to your wound, your highness.” He began to apply a salve that cool the irritation of your cut. “Then I’ll escort you back to the castle.”
You didn’t protest as he wrapped the wound with a cloth.
After he had helped you on his horse he led you through the forest back towards the castle. You were still at war with yourself, utterly exhausted and a mess of emotions as you sealed your fate to be married to the king in just a week.
You tried to control your tears which only led to more falling as you sniffled like a child.
“I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why or what you apologized for.
“I won’t judge you.” He assured you. “Even if you stain the saddle.”
You scoffed, a smile pulling at your lips even as you let a few more tears slip.
Once you were back at the castle he helped you down from his horse, his hand against yours creating a sort of shock between the both of you before you bid him goodnight.
You did your best to hid your wound until you were in the safety of your bedchamber, where you found yourself having finally given up on being free.
~
Sir John Price had never felt such anger when he saw you cry.
It had never really occurred to him that you would feel the way you did, trapped and worthless, when you were more than that. He never realized that the suitors who he thought you entertained because you wanted to, made you feel that way, that he made you feel that way.
He’d think more on it if he had the time. He wanted to do more than what he was going to do, but there was only so much a knight could do.
Your tears and words stirred something inside him.
Price watched you enter the castle, his hand trembling from your touch. Your skin was softer than he imagined, warmer than the rays of the sun, and had sent a current of electricity through him.
What he was about to do was risky, but he was willing to take that leap if it meant it dried your tears.
He returned to the barracks, where he had called a meeting between his own men before he managed to catch a glimpse of you running to the forest.
He was lucky he had got there in time. He felt sick thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t. The rage he felt seeing blood on you was unprecedented for him.
Fate seemed to be in his favor however. Sir Simon Riley had returned from the king’s kingdom after he had sent him there for information as he refused to let the Queen marry you off without first knowing who the king was.
From what he saw today, he was not much. Even a knight like himself could see the taint he carried and he couldn’t believe the Queen allowed it, so he hoped that she didn’t know any better.
He desperation to marry you off was worrisome but he didn’t have time for that.
“What did you find?” Price asked when he returned to the table.
“A declaration of war, yet to be announced.” Simon set the scroll on the table. “And no money.”
“Steamin’ Jesus, he wants to pulls us into war.” Sir John MacTavish uncrossed his arms in disbelief.
“We’re not equipped for this.” Kyle said and looked to Price. “Not without proper preparation.”
Price stared at the pieces of paper. The audacity the king had to exploit the Queen in such a way, knowing that he could’ve had support if he had asked, but perhaps he wanted to assurance there would be if he married you, especially since he had no money.
It would embarrass her. It was enough reason to call of the wedding.
Enough reason to save you.
The moment you told him that you truly did not want to marry the king, he told himself he would find a way to break the marriage between the two of you by any means necessary.
“The Queen won’t stand for this.” Price swayed his hips. “I’ll notify her immediately.”
“Delving into politics, sir?” Kyle teased and he huffed.
“Kate’s gone, I have no choice.”
He took the pieces of paper and walked towards the castle. He was just as convincing as Kate could be and with evidence it wouldn’t be hard.
He was determined to not fail and though it was uncommon for him to show himself at the Queen’s quarters he was not afraid of what she might say to him.
“Your majesty,” he bowed deeply when she answered the door. “I have troubling information about our guest.”
~
The next morning was tense. The throne room lacked the regular court but the Queen and you sat in your throne’s while the king stood the eyes of your mother’s judgement.
Price stood at the bottom of stairs and watched the panic course through the king with indifference.
“You lied to me, to my daughter and expect us to take it lightly?” The Queen’s words were laced with venom.
“It wasn’t a lie, your majesty!” He protested but she raised her hand to stop him.
“I ask for peace and you bring me war, I ask for prosperity and you give me nothing.”
Price glanced at you and noticed the shock on your face. You were told to join your mother suddenly and the new information had been kept tightly sealed until this moment to keep the scandal at a minimum. You had gone into this blind and though he regretted that, he hoped your relief would make up for it.
“We are a strong kingdom who values strong allies, you are more reckless than a wild boar.” The Queen spat and the king sputtered. “I’ll have none of this in my court.”
The king tried to come up with some excuse but The Queen stood up. The air was thick as he looked down her nose at him.
“Sir John,” she said and Price looked to her. “Have your men escort him out the castle.”
“Yes, your majesty.” He bowed as she made her way out of the throne room.
“We will discuss your marriage another day, my darling.” She said to you and all you could do was nod.
Price watched his men escort the king out of throne room and all that was left was him and you.
He turned to you and you shared a look.
You looked surprised but visibly relieved. You stared at him with a sense of awe but also uncertainty as if you couldn’t quite believe what happened. Thought he didn’t outright say it was him, he was sure you had your suspicions about whether or not this was his doing.
He hopes that maybe this would partially make up for his mistakes against you.
“This was irresponsible, Sir John.” You finally said and he raised an eyebrow.
“My duty is to protect the crown…” he argued. “If you’re implying that this was my doing, however I can assure you I had no hand in this.”
You quirked an eyebrow and the corner of your lips twitched. He couldn’t help but admire the twinkle of amusement in your eyes with a sense of awe that struck him harder than anything before.
It was a small lie, one to save face and to provide a chance to keep sentimental feelings at bay for the time being.
“Is that so, sir?”
“It would seem it.”
You stood up and made your way to him. There was a sense of vulnerability within your eyes as you struggled to meet his and he found himself almost begging that you would look at him.
“Thank you.” You said barely above a whisper.
Price blinked a couple times and before he bowed.
“Of course, your highness.”
A/n: what does Price say? Violence and timing? He sure if efficient when it comes to you.
Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze
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marigoidz · 4 months
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for the character ask game... what if... what if i said all the numbers for emma............ (im bad at choosing) and potentially emily too if youre feeling up to it
Questions for context
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1. Since I'll go into a little more detail later, I'll just say I like her because she makes me happy. That's like. The #1 reason anyway
2. I like that she's complicated I suppose. That she wants to make people happy but can often come off as mean. That despite the popular girl aura she's pretty shit at socializing. That the way she views herself is so different from how others view her. I love conflicting elements in characters. soso much
3. Her relationship with Jacob. Watching their interactions is like psychological torture. Like I'm BEGGING them to stay away from each other
4. I would love to see her as a girlfail superhero. Not from a specific company or anything. I think most of her attempts to save people would leave them a little worse off and it would be. rather funny
5. How to Be a Heartbreaker by MARINA
6. Nothing that's completely canon really. Besides the warmth and love in my heart for Abigail Blyg
7. When they make her geeky in headcanons
8. When they make her the most evil and/or boring person ever in headcanons
9. No, only because she's a vlogger and I would get sick of seeing/hearing her film
10. I'd like to think so
11. In theory, sure
12. She likes getting her nails done to look like claws around Halloween
13. :D
14. I'm not the most knowledgeable about aesthetics but. From what I've seen of Y2k it seems like something she might be into
15. BlygBank on top forever and always
16. Her and Jacob. Whatever their ship name is. Hardly anyone ships them anyway (for good reason)
17. I guess RyEmma? Just because shipping them wouldn't fit my headcanons. Taking my top two favs and smooshing their faces together is something I usually like to do but. Not in this case
18. Abi. Because of course
19. Once again, Jacob
20. I don't think anyone would make a better best friend for Emma than Abi
21. Haven't written enough to have opinions here
22. I haven't actually read any fics for TQ that I can remember soo idk
23. I am simply incapable of choosing
24. My two strongest associations with her are Rachel Amber and Barbara Finch
25. I did not like her at all when I was watching playthroughs and as soon as I started playing I began to grow. Unhealthily attached
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rp-meme-central · 1 year
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Willow - episode 1: The Gales - sentence starters
1, “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You know, there’s skill, then there’s talent. And I just happen to have both.” 
2. “I would have beaten you five moves back, if it wasn’t for that loose rock.” 
3. “It’s not about mastering the moves, _____, it’s about adapting to your terrain. And I’m just better at that than you are.” 
4. “You’re going to have to suck it up, because I am not going to be able to survive this thing without you.” 
5. “Why do you look like you’ve been rolling around in grass?” 
6. “You’re picking out my clothes now? What am I, six years old?” 
7. “For _____, and only _____, do I endure this agony.” 
8. “____’s going to feel like I’m abandoning her/him/them when she/he/they need(s) me the most. Because I am.” 
9. “You married _____. Nothing easy about that choice. But at least you did it for the right reasons.” 
10. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect the people I love. It costs a lot. I’m tired.” 
11. “So, we’re getting married. That’s weird, right?” 
12. “I’m a prisoner, sentenced to a life I didn’t even choose.” 
13. “I think you should stick to chasing girls/boys, rather than sticking your nose in matters that you are incapable of understanding, and are not your concern!” 
14. “Everybody loves you because you’re so charming and fun. As long as they don’t expect anything from you. Because the moment that they do, you’ll just leave.” 
15. “I’m looking for something. And it’s not here. It’s out there.” 
16. “It’s a symbol of my commitment to you. Just until I can get something more real.” 
17. “Is that fog?” 
18. “Would it be too much to ask you not to do anything stupid?” 
19. “They’re saying _____ was kidnapped. We have to find him/her/them. We have to rescue him/her/them.” 
20. “Wait, we’re all going to die? I wish someone told me. I’m really scared of dying. That and communal bathing.” 
21. “This is not some jaunt or your chance to see the world. It’s dangerous.” 
22. “You’re all so naive, it’s adorable. What? You’ve never known, pain, fear, hunger.” 
23. “Once we get out there, it won’t matter who your parents are, or what you think you deserve. The world is bigger than you can imagine. It doesn’t give a damn about any of you.” 
24. “You’re not the boss of me, ______. Not out here.” 
25. “Why are you riding so slow? We are being chased!” 
26. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. About the way I behaved. It was... I was very childish, and...” 
27. “I can understand not wanting to marry someone that you barely know. I wasn’t happy about it either.” 
28. “One day, you and I are going to be in charge. And when that day comes, we don’t have to do things the way our parents did.” 
29. “The world needs you again. It needs your magic.” 
30. “No, you’ve made a mistake. That’s not... I’m not... I’m nobody.” 
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kmp78 · 1 year
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But the craziest (saddest? 🤔) thing is that he is completely incapable of being with himself... 🤷🏼‍♀️That speaks of deep, deep psychological issues, and one doesn't even need a medical degree to figure it out! 💯
LOL Oh K.
There is a clear difference so you say? Tell me, have YOU yourself not chosen to remain single? In a non committed relationship?
Before you CLAIM the difference is because he still seeks out sexual satisfaction and you do not. I am going to call you a liar. (I am also curious if I hit the nail on the head so accurately, you once again refuse to post it and pretend Tumbler app ate the post!
1. Jared chooses to live his life as he sees fit. He possesses the resources and the talent you only ever dream of having. Most of us will never experience 1/10th of the life that man has. That creates people like you, who hate everything he does, makes, wears, dates, eats...always a critic. Who somehow are so angered by the object of their affection not sharing that with them, they become enraged, like you, and lash out, like this blog. (and at times, can become destructive and violent). If he changed his life to please everyone else's opinions, he would be miserable. Now we know that would make sadastic Sociopaths such as yourself extraordinarily happy, but he isn't going to change.
2. Now you will claim that you make the difference because you choose to be alone and not date AT ALL and that is why YOU are better than him. Thereby proving he CAN'T be alone. Maybe he doesn't want to be alone such as you. He may not wish to get married and have babies, but he clearly would like a companion. He is open to a relationship, allowing a woman into his space.
I bet you would date if SOMEONE attractive and with means showed interest. Hell you would be a fool not to!
3. Or are you so wrapped up in your disdain and delusions for this man that would have no clue if you shuffled off a ledge tomorrow, that your entire future relies upon this blog, and the so called truths you seem to believe you are spreading about him, his family and anyone associated. Creating lie after lie and hateful & damaging rumors you find amusing and making it your lifes work to try demolish a man who does not deserve it? To what end? Cause you can? Cause you want to? Cause it makes you laugh?
That speaks of deep, deep psychological issues, and one doesn't even need a medical degree to figure it out! 💯 Once again I implore you to seek help.
No I don't claim that tumblr has eaten your messages.
I'm flat out telling you I HAVE PURPOSELY DELETED YOUR MESSAGES when I've not been in the mood for your particular level of psychosis. 🤷🏼‍♀️
And "MAYBE HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE ALONE"?
Pray tell WHY DOES HE KEEP INSISTING HE SPENT LOCKDOWN AAAAAAALL ALOOOOOOONE THEN? 😂😂😂🤔
Is he a liar? 😱
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arktrust · 2 years
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Lumino city lightwell stuck
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viszn · 2 years
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Pg
I never wanted to grab and kiss someone so bad when it comes to her. it’s like the car all over again but this time I’m not scared or nervous too. I’m worried that once I do there’s no turning back. I’m worried that it’s probably not what she needs right now even if our chemistry is there. I’m worried that I could lose her for good this time. But mostly, I’m worried because I know what we have is real and can work but it won’t because she’ll choose everyone else’s opinion and settle with another him. And I cannot stress enough how tired I am of thinking about others and how they’ll feel about us. I’m tired of us being last.
I want her to be happy. I want to be there when she feels incapable of being loved and assure her she’s never alone. I want to tickle her and make her laugh when she feels sad. I want to hear all about her day even if we texted throughout. I want her to feel the love running through her veins endlessly when I’m holding on to her and won’t let her go. I want to look her in the eye and tell her flaws and all “you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever come about in this life” and kiss those scars when they start to resurface. I want to sing karaoke with her and put sk8terboy on blast when it comes on because she’s the best partner. I want to surprise her with flowers everyday until she gets tired of Orchids and I start sending Roses and so on. I want to go on our cool mysterious dates and have so much of a blast we forget the time. I want her to take control and grab this life by the wheel as I stand beside her every step of the way. I want our families to be a family. I want her and me to be happy. And if I don’t do that and none of this is real, I still want her to be happy even if it’s without me—
Because I want to be who you want me to be but I literally can’t. I can provide all those things above and more but I cant change who I am as much as I would like to so this could work. I just hope she’ll come to this realization soon: I hope she’ll see if they really love you and are trying to turn a new leaf they’ll accept you and love you just as much as I do. Some might get hurt but I promise they had their chances. Some will have opinions but I promise none won’t matter as much as yours, it is your life.
Please do not settle. Please don’t choose him. Please don’t let others influence you or change you. Please give us our chance. Please just let me love you like you deserved to be loved.
xo
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chazukekani · 3 years
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Previous // Next
Recap: Adam met Chuuya and the flags for the first time in the billiards bar. Despite misunderstanding each other, they resolved the misconception and played billiards cohesively.
Albatross was impressed by how skillful Adam was in playing billiards. 'It was all physics and calculations,' answered by Adam. The android once again introduced himself to the crowd, and revealed his favourite things were acorn and grass seed, and things he hated were metal detectors in the airport. His dream is to create an investigation organisation that was solely run by machines because he saw humans irrational hence incapable in carrying detective missions.
Piano Man replied that he still could not trust Adam because he was afraid Adam would leak the information of the Mafia to his own organisation. However, Adam promised that his mission was only about arresting Verlaine, and he would not interfere with anything further. Chuuya disagreed because he thought Adam was lying.
'It is impossible that Verlaine is searching for me,' said Chuuya
'Why?' asked Adam
'Because Paul Verlaine is dead.'
Chuuya recalled the Arahabaki incident one year ago. It was all about Arahabaki, the artificial ability created by the military. In order to get this top secret, Two European spies took on a mission to steal Arahabaki, and they were Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine. They accomplished their mission perfectly. However, Paul Verlaine suddenly betrayed his partner. He attacked Rimbaud, and took away Arahabaki by himself. The battle between the spies, who were also super ability users, were intense, which they created a scene of battle with mass destruction.
As a result, Rimbaud won and lived, but he lost his partner. As being a super ability user, this battle caught the attention from the military. Rimbaud was chased after by the authority and he had no way out. As Rimbaud was already very weak after the battle with Verlaine, he had no choice but to absorb the ability that he just stole, which was Arahabaki itself. As a result, it became Verlaine's ability - to abilitify humans - he broke the seal of Arahabaki. It was a form of ability that was beyond human capacity, and was as if it were the beast of god. The military tried their best to seal the Arahabaki. Afterwards, a huge black flame burnt everything, regardless of the military, laboratories and all the surroundings. Rimbaud was the only one who survived under the protection of the ability, but he lost his memory in return. Rimbaud then joined the mafia and used 8 years to recover his memory. In order to fully recover, Rimbaud baited Chuuya - the true Arahabaki - to appear, so that Rimbaud could absorb his ability. That's the course behind the Arahabaki incident one year ago.
Rimbaud was then dead, because he lost to Chuuya.
'No, Verlaine was alive,' said Adam. Piano asked for the proof but Adam said he did not want to leak the top secret to anyone apart from Chuuya. Chuuya said that it was fine to brief the information with them all because Chuuya considers the Flags as related personnel. The flags were touched because they were surprised by how Chuuya considered them as his companions. Chuuya wanted to take back his word because he was embarrassed.
'I will follow your order,' Adam took the opportunity and he grabbed Chuuya under his arm as if a piece of parcel, and hopped away from the bar instantly. Adam was holding Chuuya and hopping, flying in between the residence area. 'I also want to be holded like that...' Doc was watching Chuuya leaving with Adam and whispered.
-
-
'Why are you holding me that way!?' Chuuya said furiously. 'You can put me on your back or just take my hand, there are many ways!'
'I am terribly sorry,' Adam said. 'This is the best way to transport you according to your size.'
'Imma beat you ass up! I am still growing!' shouted by Chuuya.
Chuuya used his ability and they were landed in an abandoned Church that was formerly destroyed in the war, and he had a call from Piano Man.
'Are you alright Mr Parcel? Have you got your stuff delivered yet?' Piano Man sounded very happy.
'I am fine,' Chuuya replied.
Piano Man told Chuuya to finish his business ASAP because the boss was asking them to come for a meeting. Chuuya replied and the conversation was over.
Adam proceeded briefing Chuuya what had happened. He showed Chuuya a photo which was taken during the coronation in the St. Paul's Cathedral in London three years ago.
The photograph displayed three collapsed soldiers in the Cathedral whom were murdered. The men brought no sword with them, no blood, no gunshot were found either. Those men were laying on the floor as if fell asleep, but it wasn't, they were all dead.
Adam said that these three soldiers were the close bodyguards of the Queen, and belonged to the Order of the Clock Tower. One of the soldiers once destroyed an organisation in one night, so they were meant to be very powerful and difficult to kill, yet they were all killed by Verlaine. There were no external injuries found, but their bones were broken down to 1228 pieces at the same time. Chuuya was shook because  Adam said it was practically impossible to do so.
The crime scene occurred during the coronation, and it was suspected that the Queen was also the target. Fortunately, the Queen was safe, but the reputation of the Clock Tower was severely damaged.
The Order of the Clock Tower was meant to protect the Royal Family, and their guard is unbreakable because their ability users were on the level of the Transcendents as they could create a subspace, and this was where the Royal Family were. Hence an assassin would be killed back right away if he attempted to assassinate the members of the Royal Family. Therefore, Paul Verlaine almost became the most dangerous man that would threaten world security. That's why Dr. Wollstonecraft sent Adam to take a new approach to investigate this incident, and that new approach is Chuuya. Adam knew Verlaine was searching for Chuuya, so Adam thought it would be efficient to come to Chuuya before Verlaine arrived, and then he could arrest him.
'So basically I am a bait?' asked Chuuya, and Adam admitted.
Chuuya refused to assist because he thought even if Verlaine was going to kill him, he would be able to handle it. He then left Adam because the 'Mail Man' from the Mafia was already waiting for him. Adam didn't let go of Chuuya and kept following him. Mail Man, in general terms, were responsible for sending messages between the Port Mafia, as well as acquiring intelligence for the organisation. The Mail Man was wearing a black hat and sunglasses, which had his face covered. Adam was still chasing after Chuuya.
'Please don't go, Chuuya-san!' shouted Adam.
'Hurry up!' Chuuya went inside the car and told the Mail Man.
'He is Verlaine!' shouted Adam. The Mail Man then accelerated the car and got away from Adam.
-
-
Chuuya tried to punch the man but it was unsuccessful.
'You are lighter than I thought. You should eat more or else brother will be worried,' said Verlaine. A battle broke out inside the car. Under Verlaine's gravity control, Chuuya could not breathe as his lungs almost collapsed, and he was gradually losing his consciousness as blood was deprived from his brain.
'I don't recall having a European brother...' said Chuuya
'You are wrong,' Verlaine replied, 'I am neither an European nor a human. I am just like you.'
'No!' Chuuya struggled with his ability.
Chuuya insisted that he was a human who grew up in a farm by the sea because that's what his friends showed him, but Verlaine rebutted that it was just fake information fabricated by the military. Suddenly, Adam hacked the handle and turned the car left. The car was then crashed with a truck that filled with fuel nearby and created a mass explosion.
'Humans are mistaken for the word 'lonely',' Verlaine said, 'they know nothing about the true form of loneliness. They thought not having a family or a person to chat with means loneliness.'
'The real definition of loneliness,' Verlaine proceeded with his soft and gentle voice as if singing, 'is wandering in the universe and watching the shooting stars alone inside the vacuum under absolute zero. There is zero possibility that you will be founded by anything or approached by anyone. Thousands years passed and you will still hear nothing. Can you comprehend this feeling? No one can, except you, Chuuya.'
'Please come with me, Chuuya,' Verlaine offered his hand to Chuuya. Adam urged Chuuya not to go.
'Indeed, I understand what you mean,' said Chuuya. 'Before I answer you, I wanna ask you something,' Chuuya proceeded.
'I just had a call with Piano Man, and they said that they were told to have a job. Answer me. Where did those five people go?'
Verlaine laughed, 'I assume you don't need your old friends anymore?' Verlaine opened the trunk in his car, and there's something inside with a sloppy sound. Chuuya's eyes zoomed out.
It was Lippmann's corpse.
Chuuya screamed. He lost his control. He kept punching the broken pieces in the surroundings and moaned and shouted. Verlaine grabbed Chuuya's neck, and found a photograph in his pocket and threw it away.
'There's no way I will like you. Absolutely,' Chuuya's voice was shaking.
'That's fine, because you will choose to follow me at last, and now I will now show you the evidence.' Verlaine used his other hand to cover Chuuya's forehead mildly.
Space was shaking, and there was a mass explosion. There were black and red flames appearing in front of Chuuya.
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'Let's open 'the door' by a little bit,' said Verlaine.
'High energy with Hawking Radiation detected,' Adam splitted out the words by default. Adam targeted his bullets on Verlaine's eyebrows, eyeball, throat and arm, but Verlaine stopped the bullets and targeted Adam back. Adam was in pain utterly.
At the same time, Chuuya screamed violently as if losing his soul. A hell occured, it's the black flame. It was exactly the same flame that appeared in the Suribachi City. The high energy melted the surroundings, including all the buildings nearby. There was a black sphere, and Chuuya was in the center of it. He was in pain as you can observe his rupture on his skin, the almost-breaking eyeball and the collapsing organs. Such high energy even distorted the time and space in that area.
Yet, there was a person, standing next to Chuuya. A person with black coat and covered his face with bandages.
'Can you please die more neatly?' said Dazai.
Dazai grabbed Chuuya's wrist, and Chuuya had the ability nullified. He gradually lost his consciousness and closed his eyes.
-
-
Chuuya roughly remembered that Dazai carried him on his back and brought him to the billiards bar. When he woke up at the bar, Chuuya sensed something smelly, it's the smell of blood.
He went inside to the bar, and found Piano Man, Ice Man, Albatross and Doc were all dead. The bar was in a mess as if stormed by hurricanes. He saw Doc's body was separated, and couldn't even find his lower part of the body.
Chuuya then found Albatross with a final breath left. He was relieved when Chuuya found him. 'I will be dead soon,' said Albatross, 'Chuuya, take my bike in my garage, it's all yours,' and that's the final word of him.
'I am going to help you,' Chuuya told Adam with determination, 'I am going to find him, but don't arrest. Kill him.'
'Mafia will not forgive anyone who kills my family.' - - Code:01 Ended
572 notes · View notes
parkers-gal · 3 years
Note
yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.
this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭
wc: 1.7k ! <3
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“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.
You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.
“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”
“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”
“Not to me, you aren't.”
“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.
“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”
“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”
“I said no such thing.”
“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”
“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”
“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”
“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.
You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.
In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.
Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.
Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.
The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.
You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.
Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.
It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.
It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.
“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”
You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”
As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.
“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.
“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.
“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.
“Mummy who’s this?”
“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.
You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.
Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.
“Is this…?
“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.
“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.
“Mummy, who’s that?”
“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”
“Who’s that man?”
“He’s… your daddy.”
“I thought… no daddy?”
You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.
“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.
You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.
“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”
“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”
Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”
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want more? my masterlist.
taglist tingz :) 🏷️  want to join? fill out this form.
th + pp taglist: @spideyspeaches @strawberrytom (no smut) @turtletaylor98 @parkerpeterparker2004 @peterbenjiparker @kelieah​
permanent taglist: @mayrapreciado20​ @tomhollandlol @roseke​ @supremethunda​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @farfromtommy​ @mamaparker28​ (no smut/tw) @pxxerfect​ (no smut) @seutarose @pixiedustsupplyco​ @itssmadelyn​ @white-wolf1940​ @woopwoopwoop222 @chrisosterfield​ (no tw)
th taglist: @lmaotshollandd
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ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Twenty-One
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.
***
The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?
The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.
By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.
Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.
Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.
“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”
Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”
“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.
“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.
Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.
Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.
“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”
As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.
Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.
Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.
“What?”
“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.
“I agree, but—”
Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”
Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”
He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.
Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”
He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.
Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.
***
Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.
“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”
“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”
When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.
Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.
Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.
“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”
“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”
“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.
“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”
A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.
“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”
Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.
Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”
“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”
“Guys!” Nesta snaps.
Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”
Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”
“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”
Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”
“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.
“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”
“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”
“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.
“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”
“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”
“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.
Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You’re not a freak.”
“But it’s what he’ll think.”
“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.
Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”
“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”
“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”
Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.
“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”
Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.
Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”
Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”
“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”
Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”
“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”
“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.
There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”
Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.
In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.
When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.
“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.
“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.
A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.
“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”
Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.
Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”
“I can hear you,” Azriel says.
“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”
“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.
“So can I,” Emerie nods.
“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”
Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”
Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”
“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”
She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”
“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”
Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”
She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.
God, having friends sucks.
Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”
***
Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.
Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”
“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.
“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.
“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”
“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.
“What tone?” Cassian repeats.
Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”
“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”
“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.
“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”
She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”
But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?
He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.
Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.
Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.
“What are you doing?” Nesta says.
“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”
Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.
Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.
“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.
Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”
“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”
Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”
Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.
Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”
Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.
Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.
Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.
“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”
Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.
“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.
“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.
Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”
Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?
But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.
When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.
Az starts, “What a fake little—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”
Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.
“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.
Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.
“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”
Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”
Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”
He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.
“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.
“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.
Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.
“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.
“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.
“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.
Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.
Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”
Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”
Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”
Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”
Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”
“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”
That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.
Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.
God, sometimes having friends sucks.
***
a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time
tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland
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genshingarbage · 3 years
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Don’t Say Goodbye. || One-Shots ||
I am just in a mood to create broken hearts right now it would appear, this is just a few one-shots on a couple of the boys and my take on how they would act with there s/o dying in their arms due to various reasons based on the character i am writing for. - Mod Diluc
Diluc
The sound of yells grew distant as the vision began to blur from your eyes. The only sensation you could still feel was the tight grasp of your hand in the larger one wrapped round it squeezing it. Diluc was holding you as you laid there on the muddy dirt, resting your bloody and broken body on his legs. Cradling you like a new born while shaking back and forth, trembling in traumatic disbelief over what was taking place before him.
His eyes were swelling with tears threatening to break out and spill down his cheeks, he kept kissing your weak hand gently, each kiss being dragged out longer than the one before, shaky shushes passing his lips in a frail attempt to soothe your weakening body. You'd been adventuring alone again for several weeks away from Mondstat and The Dawn Winery.
You didn't think much of it as you often left for long adventuring trips, bringing back goofy and silly souvenirs for your beloved Diluc, you just didn't realise this time around you'd be ambushed by the Fatui on your long trek back to his winery. Having been unbeknownst to you fatally wounded, you managed to break free and escape, bleeding heavily from your right side, shakily sprinting to the only place you knew could be a safe haven, Dilucs winery.
You'd fallen to the ground in a crumpled heap not barely a few seconds after Diluc spotting you running down the dusty and dirty road. He sprinted to you eyes wide yelling as loud as his vocal chords would physically let him. "Y/N! No!" He skidded and slumped down into the dirt himself, tugging you carefully but quickly into his lap muttering 'No' over and over in rapid breaths. And now you were where you were at, the life slowly but surely leaving you while all you could feel was Dilucs gentle kissing lips and warming embrace.
Does he know how much you love him? Did ever know how much he meant to you? Oh no... the souvenir you'd found for him... you dropped it back when you was ambushed... he would've loved it so much... however likewise with him to you, did you know how much you meant to him? How truly happy he was that he'd finally found someone he could trust and give his life to. Had he ever even said he loves you back? All these questions that were going to be left unanswered to the both of you.
Still trembling he watched as your light dimmed in your eyes, leaning his head down he softly placed a kiss against your unresponsive lips, parting ever so slightly to rest his forehead against yours and whimpering in a broken tone. "I love you, Y/N" When he lifted his head back up he felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs to see your eyes were now closed and there was no longer movement in your body.
He looked up at the night sky, the stars twinkling so beautifully over such a devastating and tragic moment. Closing his eyes he silently prayed the gods take good care of you up there till he can finally be there with you. Lifting up slowly with your now lifeless body bridal style in his arms he began to walk back to his winery, his expression stern and showing no pain. But it was all a facade for inside he was crying and screaming to the heavens and hell for having let this happen to you.
"They will pay Y/N, I promise you. I'll see you again soon; someday."
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Childe
The rain was pouring heavily, hitting angrily against the cold hard concrete, the drops splashing up and back down as they landed with such impact. You were wet and cold, but your body had been going numb for minutes now as the blood was leaving your body so quickly. You shakily looked round to see the last attacker being cut down to the floor by your one and only love, Ajax.
The unknown man's body hadn't even hit the floor by the time Ajax had thrown his weapons down and rushed to your side. "Oi oi, come on now, look alive. More will be coming soon." He let out a nervous laugh not wanting to believe what he was seeing in front of him right now. You'd only gone out for a little drink and joke about in the beautiful rainy day, you both enjoyed running around in the rain so much after all. He tapped your cheek gently trying to keep you conscious as he could see your focus leaving you as fast as your blood was.
He pressed his hand against the open wound in your chest; a pitiful attempt to try slow the bleeding. You cursed yourself for not being more alert of your surroundings when that man crept up behind you and ambushed you by surprise. He shook his head vigorously side to side. His mask hiding most of the unbearable pain behind it. He should've known better than to think it was safe to come back to Liyue so soon after having caused such chaos.
Why the fuck did they have to go for you both though, you were innocent from all this it was him they wanted so why, why?! Why you?! He made a soft 'Tsk' sound from his mouth as he choked back the tears while looking at you. You had little vision left, little time too, but with what little strength you had remaining you lifted your hand up gently and pulled his mask off. Wanting to see his face one last time before you're gone from this world.
Exposing his damp cheeks and red eyes to you, you were able to form the smallest smile at him. "Don't... d-don't leave me Y/N, please..." his voice was barely a whisper now as he remained stiff by your side. "I won't..." You coughed back gently, you didn't even try to sound believable with that; you both knew it was a lie and you were on your way out with only seconds to spare.
You were his everything, he knew you was too good for him from the very beginning, yet you was determined to always be by his side. He knew he was a bad guy, a villain, but with you by his side he was able to feel like someone's hero. You meant fucking everything to him so why did someone so pure have to be taken so soon. You coughed gently once more before choosing your last words carefully, knowing they were to be your last.
"Childe- Ajax, you're not a bad guy. I have and will always love you..." Your voice faded into a whisper and then... nothing. Your eyes closed and your hand that had been against his cheek was now limp, the only reason it was still in its prior place was because Childe himself had been applying slight pressure to keep it there. You were gone now, at rest and probably somewhere much better and further away from this hell.
He looked at your resting face just wishing you'd open your eyes again and say it was all just a big terrible joke. But that wasn't the case, however his broken and torn expression immediately dissolved when he heard the rapid steps growing louder. "There he is! Apprehend him now!" One of the guards shouted to the several others. He quietly apologised to your resting form, letting your hand leave his face and finally rest with the rest of your body, he was also sorry as he wasn't gonna be able to give you the burial you deserved, he wasn't gonna be able to use that ring he'd bought you to propose with, and unknowing to him, you wasn't gonna be able to tell him the good news that he would've been a dad.
He lifted up slowly, hair now soaked and water droplets falling from all over his body. The blood leaving your body had began to swirl and dance with the water pooling against the concrete as the heavy rain showed no signs of slowing down. His mask back in his hand before it found its way back on his face, turning and stepping over to his slung down blades and kicking them up into the air grabbing them. Parting his knees swiftly and getting into his battle ready stance. The mask made him look like the bad guy every one claimed him to be, but underneath was the most broken and tormented boy that they'll never know.
"I'll always love you too Y/N, I am sorry but you're wrong, I've always been a bad guy, I just... I tried to be a better one for you."
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Xiao
The sky was ablaze, organe and yellow flickering all over, ember floating up and down softly. It was so hot; unbearably so as you were laying on the wooden floor of the top balcony at the Wangshu Inn, blood spilling out of you and soaking the wood all around you. The fire was growing dangerously closer, but did it matter now? You would be dead in a couple more minutes away.
Had everyone escaped the Inn at least? Was everyone safe? You hoped they were. But it was then you felt an instant gust of cold wind wail past you like a roaring monster and die down the flames that had been encircling you and drawing ever so closer. Your vision was nearly gone and it was hard to make out anything except the smoke and fire, but those blue oni mask eyes were unmistakable, Xiao was above you right now.
His hand was hovering over your cheek, still scared that even now he may cause you more pain than comfort in your fleeting moments. "Y/N wake up. Don't be defeated so easily, this is truly pathetic, even for your standards." Harsh words as always, you knew he was sad and just lashing out, his words were cracking and his voice was wavering in its tone. Was that a sniffle? It was hard to make out among the crackling fire destroying the walls and wood around you and his mask muttering and muffling his already quiet words.
Why did they go for you? They wanted him to become nothing anymore, to just slip away and leave the entire history of Liyue to them. Leave the nation built under Rex Lapis to the incapable feeble hands of mortals. He couldn't ever allow that, he refused to back down so easily. But this? Surprise attacking the Inn and burning it down while taking the only mortal who held something to him away? How sick and lowly of them.
You went to speak but all you could muster was a cough as blood spat out your mouth across your bottom lip, your time was fading fast. He swallowed down and removed his mask, a shake in his hand as he did so, resting his proper gaze on your form one last time, allowing you to see him in his first ever vulnerable state, tears slowly falling from his face, letting his hand slide across your cheek gently, swiping the blood off your soft delicate lip. Why did it hurt him so bad? Why was this reaching so deep within him?
All those times he'd sighed and disappeared to get away from you, all those eye-rolls to your silly jokes and huffs to your tedious and pointless tasks. Why did he feel an ache in his throat when he thought about how he won't ever get to experience those annoying moments again? What was this? It couldn't be. Had he truly fallen in love with a mortal? Impossible, but what else could explain this gut wrenching feeling he had swirling inside him.
Everything was crumbling apart around him but his focus remained on you as you looked at him with those eyes, those same eyes that often stared at him with hope and admiration, now they stared with soft kindness and fleeting wishes. If this was love then he wasn't ready to have it taken from him so soon, but what could he do except watch as you left this world. He gritted his teeth together and his hand clenched tightly round his blood stained spear. This was truly unforgivable. If only he had killed those monsters sooner, got to you quicker... maybe then he could've saved you.
"I..." he began to stutter gentle words out while stroking his thumb delicately across your cheek, why hadn't he just swallowed his pride and touched you sooner? Why hadn't he just admitted this to himself quicker and embraced you. You had always been there for him despite his many harsh rejections, you were nothing but kind and truthful, loyal and honest to him and now? He resented himself for not having taken the chance to love that he had had in his grip for so long. Your vision was gone now and your ears were following quickly behind. "I... Y/N..."
Just spit it out already, before the time runs out for you- "Y/N I love you..." he looked at your face searching for a response but you were gone now. The gods had given you all the time they could spare and unfortunately it wasn't long enough to Xiao. It wasn't fair. He couldn't even let you know how he truly felt before you were ripped from him. Tears rolled down his face faster now, but the sorrow and pain he felt quickly welded into anger and inner rage boiling at the highest temperature.
He frowned deeply, lifting up from your body, hiding his broken expression behind his oni mask once again, shakily breathing in with a deep sigh, the shake in his hands slowly dissolving as his mind set itself onto a new mission, he turned and walked to the banister of the balcony and swiftly lifted up onto the top, looking over the landscape around him as the only place he'd truly ever known as home was burning to ash around him. He turned round taking one last longing look at your lifeless form and then leapt high into the air soaring through the skies, straight for Liyue.
You never wanted this, he knew that, you'd never want him to cause a war over your death, but you wasn't here to talk reason into him anymore. He was never gonna see your annoyingly beautiful face again, and this was all Liyues fault. They had to pay, and if that meant causing a war between humans and Adepti... then so be it.
"Forgive me Y/N, but without you here now, I see no reason to keep caring for these monsters. I'll hope you'll understand when I see you again one day."
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tomtenadia · 3 years
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Scary feelings - Rowaelin month day 1
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Prompt: I just realised I am desperately in love with you
(I suck at titles)
----
Rowan Whitethorn was not a fan of crowds. Or people in general.
It was a Friday night and his flat was far too crowded for his own tastes, but he and his colleagues would take turns in organising get togethers and eventually his time came around. People might call him a loner and a grump but he just loved peace and quiet.
“Come on grampa, have fun.” Shouted Fenrys across the living room with a bottle of beer in his hands, offering one to hm as well. Rowan sighed heavily and joined the blonde man and plopped on the sofa ignoring the ruckus around him. He had already enough.
He was busy hating the evening when someone sat at his side: the smell of lemon and verbena familiar to his nostrils. He turned and saw Aelin sprawled on the couch and a beer in her hand. Most of the people were teachers working in the same high school. Rowan was the biology teacher and Aelin had recently been hired to be the new PE teacher after the previous one retired. She was friendly with everyone and he was positive that every single male teacher had a crush on her. She was gorgeous. Rowan had no issues admitting that. He had seen her once in shorts after one of her classes. Legs perfectly tanned and going on for days. Hair gold as the sun and the most amazing turquoise eyes he had ever seen, with a ring of gold in them. He had slammed against the wall and his students laughed at him that day. He had been dumbstruck, and in every other occasion they had to interact he had to work very hard to keep his cool. They were colleagues, they had to be professional.
“Good to see that you know how to chill, Whitethorn.” Her voice broke his reverie and when he turned he saw her taking a drink of her beer, her head tilted back and her neck exposed. Rowan stood quickly and moved away. What was happening to him? Why all of a sudden he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss the column of her neck, tracing his tongue along it and nip at the sweet spot at its base?
“You okay, man?” Asked Aedion who had noted him running away like a possessed person “did my cousin made lewd jokes again?”
Rowan leaned against the wall and shook his head “no, she is fine. I just needed to stand a bit. This is too much for me.”
Aedion patted his shoulder and left him alone and slowly his gaze returned to Aelin. She was talking to Fenrys and laughing at something that the young TA had said and something irrational rose in him. Damn, was he jealous?
She must have felt him staring because her head slowly turned and her gaze landed on him and the smile she gave him almost stopped his heart. He tried to smile back and failed and saw her raise an eyebrow at him as if in question at his reaction. Slowly he tried to regain control of his emotions, that was something he was good at, appear like an emotionless bastard. Wasn’t that the reason Lyria dumped him for another man? Because he was incapable of showing love and was just a block of ice who pretended to have feelings? He pushed back from the wall and walked to Lorcan. If Rowan had a reputation of being cold, no one beat Lorcan. He was the math teacher and probably one of the most hated ones at that.
“You look a mess.” Said the dark-haired man.
“You look like you are having fun instead. Very unusual for you.”
“I got my eyes on the small brunette near Galathynius, do you know her?”
“I think she is a friend of Aelin. She is called Elide if I remember the introductions.”
Lorcan took a sip of his beer and kept staring at the woman “well, she is definitely my type.” And with a powerful move Lorcan pushed away from the wall.
“Don’t fuck up.” Said Rowan to the man while he was walking away. Lorcan was not the most stable when it came to relationships.
*
He was alone on the balcony to enjoy fresh air and peace when a person joined him and leaned against the rail at his side.
Lemon verbena. He inhaled the scent and kept looking straight at Orynth at night.
“You seem off, Whitethorn.”
“I am okay,” he sipped the last of his beer and kept ignoring her, afraid of what he would do if he stared at her.
“Looks like the rumour are true.” She turned and her back was now against the rail, her arms at her chest. 
He allowed himself a peek and his chest tightened. She had a green dress with a puffy skirt and she was breathtaking. A deep urge to kiss rose in him.
“What rumours?” He said in a gruff voice.
“That you are a loner and a bit of a cranky old bastard.”
Rowan chuckled “I love my reputation. It keeps people away.”
“Who hurt you? Who made you like this?” She asked, moving a step closer to him.
Rowan stood motionless and stared in the depth of her blue eyes. How could she know? Only a handful of people knew how Lyria had crushed him. 
“She doesn’t know what she gave up.” Commented Aelin quietly.
Now confusion was clear on his face.
Aelin leaned forward and finished her beer “It’s just a mask. How do I know? Because I have one too. I am the happy easy going PE teacher who is lovable and chatty.” And her tone changed all of a sudden “my fiancee dumped me a week before our wedding. He found himself a newer version. It broke me and having a mask makes it easier to deal with people.” She confessed and Rowan could not look away from the pain in her face and tried to restrain himself from hugging her.
“Lyria left me for another man. Apparently I am incapable of love.”
Aelin gently took his hand “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” She squeezed it and then walked away leaving him alone once more. His heart raced madly in his chest
**
Going back to work after the party had been tragic. Rowan had spent the weekend thinking about Aelin and what she had told him. Thinking as well at the pesky feeling that had slowly started to creep up. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was falling for her. He had been since the beginning when she joined the team of professors. She was incredible, and funny and apparently very caring as well. The previous day he had seen her in the school yard consoling two young teenagers who were distressed and crying in her arms. He had followed the scene from the distance and that’s when it hit him. He was in love with her. Madly. He had tried to deny the feeling for a while and it worked until that damned party. Until that moment on the balcony. 
He walked back to his class and sat at his desk trying to ignore the pounding of his chest. Pushing away the realisation that his feeling for Aelin went deeper than he thought.
A deep sigh of relief left him when the next class walked in the room. 
Later he was on his way to the break room, a book in his hands and his messenger bag strapped on his shoulder when he crashed into someone.
“What the heck.” Said the outraged female voice.
Rowan looked down and saw Aelin crouched down collecting scattered papers. He kneeled quickly and helped her “I am sorry.”
“Do you always walk and read?”
“Most times,” he smiled “I am usually better at knowing what goes around me.” He passed her the last few papers and stood. Aelin was now in front of him “come, have lunch with me.”
Rowan was taken aback by the offer. He made a step for the teachers room, but Aelin grabbed his hand “come with me, I know a better place.”
Silently he followed her, realising that he would probably follow her no matter what. 
Hand in hand they walked around the ground until Aelin stopped in a quiet corner of the yard and sat under an oak tree. It was a nice spring day and the weather was turning warm.
Aelin sat down, back against the trunk and he stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Eventually he took a seat at her side and took out his lunch from the bag: a chicken salad that contained more vegetables than chicken.
Aelin looked at the tub and its contents in disgust.
“That’s why you are always grumpy… if my lunch looked that sad, I’d be grumpy to.” And she extracted a plastic tub containing an obscene portion of lasagna “my mum made it for me the other day. I went to hers for lunch and she cooked for an army.”
She stabbed the food with a fork and then turned it to him “try it.”
Rowan looked at her puzzled.
“Come on Whitethorn, I don’t have the plague. Give it a go.”
Rowan caved and took the bite she offered. The food was amazing and found himself smiling in satisfaction.
“Look, I made you smile and it made you all the way more handsome.”
His eyes popped open in surprise at her comment.
Aelin laughed and the sound of her happiness brought him joy. He’d do anything to see her smile. Her face would lit in up in the most stunning way. Gods, he was in far, far deeper than he thought.
“What?” She asked at her expression.
“You are the most stunning woman I ever met.” He said and then realised that he had uttered those words out loud. Shit. 
She smiled again and took another bite and Rowan decided it was now or never. He had to tell her and also brace for a crushing rejection. There was no way she was into him. She could have every man, why would she choose him?
He cleared his voice “I am in love with you,” he admitted, looking in her eyes “I think I have been for a while but it dawned on me at that party at my flat. You are stunning, intelligent, fierce, caring and funny and I think and I am totally and utterly in love with you.”
She placed her plastic container on the side and he thought he had just ruined everything.
“Go on,” was all she said “let it all out.”
“I promised myself never again. It was not worth it. But then you arrived and threw that to the winds.” He ran a hand through his hair “I was even jealous of you talking to Fenrys at the party. That’s why I kept to myself. I could finally put a label on my feelings and it scared me. I was never good at dealing with emotions and probably everyone is right, I am a cold heartless bastard.”
“Maybe,” she said brushing his hair “but in front of me I see a man who can be very capable of love if the right person comes along.”
Rowan was again speechless and his eyes closed on instinct at the feeling of her hand brushing his hair.
“Say it again.”
His eyes popped open in a question and Aelin nodded.
“I am desperately in love with you.”
She smiled again and his breath hitched.
“And what are we going to do about that professor Whitethorn?”
“Maybe I can take you out to dinner?”
Aelin leaned forward to kiss his cheek “I’d love that very much.”
And in that instant he realised that for her… for her he could try again.
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rphelperblog · 2 years
Text
Bridgerton Quote Rp Meme
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inspired by @reclusiveduke​
You Do Not Know Me, And Never Shall. But Be Forewarned Dear Reader, I Certainly Know You."
"Why Must Our Only Options Be To Squawk And Settle Or To Never Leave The Nest? What If I Want To Fly?"
"It Is You I Cannot Sacrifice. I Burn… For You.”
"If You Desire The Sun And The Moon, All You Have To Do Is Go Out And Shoot At The Sky. Some Of Us Cannot
"To Meet A Beautiful Woman Is One Thing, But To Meet Your Best Friend In The Most Beautiful Of Women Is Something Entirely Apart."
"I Love All Of You. Even The Parts That You Believe Are Too Dark And Too Shameful. Every Scar. Every Flaw. Every Imperfection. I Love You."
“Yes, I Know. You Are Not The Marrying Type. Yet Have You Considered You Are Not The Type Women Wish To Marry?
"Me, Unavailable; You, Desirable."
All is fair in love and war.”
“Do not tell me that is another scandal sheet.”
This one is different, this lists subjects by name.”
You have no idea what it is to have one’s entire life reduced to a single moment.
I wish to be entertained.”
We find ourselves seated next to each other. I’d think you’d be happy about that.”
It’d be better if you refrain from thinking about me at all.”
I’m aware of your reputation and I am anything but interested in you.”
A pairing like that would be most enchanting indeed.”
Stare into my eyes. If this is to work, we must appear madly in love.”
You think that just because I’m a woman, I’m incapable of making my own choices?”
“there is nothing that you can not do.”
Lovely indeed. We should tempt scandal more often.”
“Why settle for a Duke when you can have a Prince?”
He loved me. All the time he loved me.”
"You deserve nothing less. You deserve everything your heart desires."
Her laughter brings me joy."
“The lady is quite the treasure. Do try not to bungle it up.”
"I am yours,I have always been yours."
"You deserve nothing less. You deserve everything your heart desires." 
"You can choose to love me as much as I love you. That should not be up to anyone else. That cannot be up to anyone else. It can only be up to you."
"I am your family now. We shall make our own family, you and me."
"Romance was entirely out of the question for both of us. But in so removing it we found something far greater: We found friendship."
"I cannot stop thinking of you. From the mornings you ease, to the evenings you quiet, to the dreams you inhabit, my thoughts of you never end." 
“Flawless, my dear.”
"Do it. Be bold."
"We must continue our ruse until I've found my match." 
"Me, unavailable; you, desirable."
"You do not know me, but I know you."
"You have no idea what it is to have one's entire life reduced to a single moment." 
"Is this not lovely? All of us together again."
"An expert in the art of the swoon." 
"I wish to be entertained."
"The social season is upon us." 
"It is more than just your honor at stake." 
"I write in my diary which is not the same as writing in my novel." 
"The season's diamond, even more precious and rare a stone than previously thought?" 
"Which young ladies might succeed at securing a match?"
"Stare into my eyes."
"Is it awful that I'm enjoying it?"
"If you desire the sun and the moon, all you have to do is go out and shoot at the sky." 
"We could pretend to form an attachment."
"All is fair in love and war."
"I'm aware of your reputation." 
"If this is to work, we must appear madly in love."
“You do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall.”
“We will all need to find love one day. Indeed, a love as pure as what Mama and Papa once shared, if we are so fortunate.”
“You must ask yourself, are you merely an older brother? Or are you the man of this house?”
“Be it shame or slander, seduction or smear, there is but one thing that humbles even the most highly-regarded members of our dear ton…a scandal!”
“You wish to follow your heart and I wish to nurture my mind. Let us leave it there.”
“I will help you overcome this stammer of yours. But in exchange you must promise me that when you step into the light, you will be worthy of the attention you command.”
“Am I honestly to believe you do not already know my name?”
“How does a lady come to be with child? I thought one needed to be married. Apparently, it’s not even a requirement!”
“We shall do what women do. We shall talk.”
“It reminds me of waking up in the country, first thing in the morning when I am all alone. I have not yet spoken to a soul. I look outside the window and it is serene. As if I could be the only person left in the world and yet, somehow I am not lonely.”
“Her heart is no matter, as long as her hand remains free.”
“I shall always be the woman you may love in darkness, but never in the light of day. You have made me promises before and I, like a fool, believed them. I cannot be your fool again.”
“I know we could not be any more different, but there is one thing we do share: The certainty that you will make your own way in this world. I’m sure of it
“The ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars, for what thing is more fragile than the human heart?”
“I risk my life everyday for love. You have no idea what it is like to be in a room with someone you cannot live without, and yet still feel as though you are oceans apart. 
“In the top drawer of my desk you shall find the name of a lady. If I die, you must ensure she is provided for. Do you swear?” 
“Pride, your grace, it’ll cost you everything and leave you with nothing. You must not allow it to happen to you too.”
“We chose to love each other, every single day. It is a choice, dearest. One that is never too late to make.”
“Just because something is not perfect, does not make it any less worthy of love.”
“I believe it must begin with the letter ‘A.’ We do have family traditions, do we not?”
“All Is Fair In Love And War But Some Battles Leave No  Victor, Only A Trail Of Broken Hearts That Makes Us Wonder If The Price We Pay Is Ever Worth The Fight.” 
“Everything I Told The Queen Was True. I Cannot Stop Thinking Of You. From The Mornings You Ease, To The Evenings You Quiet, To The Dreams You Inhabit, My Thoughts Of You Never End. I Am Yours. I Have Always Been Yours.”
The brighter a lady shines, the fast she may burn
When one suitor goes, the rest will surely follow
The lady is quite the treasure. Do try not to bungle it up.
Sweet child, many men make declarations of love when they want to make love. But rare is the man whose love remains true when the consequences of lovemaking are brought to his attention.
Her heart is no matter as long as her hand remains free.
Marrying above one’s stations an art from indeed.
You would rather die than marry me?
It is because I regard you so highly that I do not marry you.
Your love is an unrequited fantasy.
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mittensmorgul · 4 years
Note
it’s a bummer to see you can’t enjoy the ending. I hope someday you can come around it it. It wasn’t perfect but it didn’t nuke its integrity. i think the heart of the show really shines through and it’s a shame that it’s not being appreciated bc there’s so much shipping drama 😣
Hi there!
I... first of, I really need people to understand this... the travesty of the finale for me has almost nothing to do with “shipping drama.”
Yes, I see the wild conspiracy theories flying around, and I’m honestly concerned for some of those folks and hope they can find a way to make peace with this in whatever way they can, because we aren’t likely to ever get a better answer than that this is legitimately the ending that Dabb thought was best, despite years of us seeing the best of his writing choices and guiding Sam, Dean, and Cas to grow past the roles that Chuck would’ve forced them to fulfill, and that at the end it fell flat because he couldn’t actually come up with a better ending than “this was always their destiny, free will is a lie, and these characters had nothing outside of the revenge quest they’d been raised for since birth and manipulated into over and over for the entertainment of a vengeful god.”
I can see how “surface level” viewers would feel that this one basic narrative point was satisfying, that Sam and Dean had grown beyond their own hopeless cycle of self-sacrifice that had driven the narrative for so many years. The fact that they both acknowledged that they should allow their stories to end in that way was satisfying... but only in the shallowest and most detached read of the narrative. Like, is this really the ONLY thing these two characters learned in the last 15 years? If so, that is BEYOND depressing af.
And even THAT message lost all narrative weight when the two of them were once again reunited in death, as if nothing else had ever mattered in their lives. As if neither of them had ever outgrown the codependency that had driven so many of those previous self-sacrifices and refusals to let go of each other even in death.
So yeah, in the absolute most basic sense, I suppose I can see how casual viewers or people who aren’t actually invested in these characters could find that at least narratively coming back to a starting point.
But narratives don’t actually work that way, and that’s not the point of watching fifteen years of story develop in between.
This story wasn’t JUST about Sam and Dean needing to accept that death might be okay actually.
This story was also about free will, fighting for humanity as a whole but also their OWN humanity and self-identities. In Dean’s case, the absolutely transformative growth from feeling like nothing but a hammer, a killer, a tool to be used. And then less than an episode and a half later, after finally accepting that truth into his heart and using it to defeat the original creator and reclaim the story of his own life for himself... he gets pied in the face after flippantly talking about his destiny and having no choice, and then three scenes later he literally dies impaled on a great big nail... like a hammer...
So I would kindly ask folks who feel satisfied by that shallowest possible takeaway of this episode, and maybe invite folks to look just under that surface. Try to understand why loads of us will NEVER feel satisfied with this ending, and why it truly does feel like the most hopeless version of the story. Like even in defeating Chuck, they could never be allowed to own their own stories and what happened to them after that point was just a twisted version of the “destiny” that drove Chuck’s entire plotline for them anyway.
Please understand where we’re seeing this as horrifically painful irony rather than some beautiful circular narrative about letting go.
For a lot of us, the shipping stuff would’ve been the cherry on top of the sundae. We would’ve been happy with a scoop of plain vanilla, though. We would’ve been happy for anything that honored the journey to freedom, and the choice at any sort of a different life of their own making than literally falling back on a nail fighting off one of John’s unresolved hunts and a vampire who had literally never been named in canon before, yet who Dean instantly recognized somehow... 
but sure, for those of us who felt that “the heart of the show” was all the stuff that the finale actually erased-- that “family don’t end in blood,” and that this was actually not a show about just two brothers but the love of their found family and coming to terms with the choices they actually HAD made for themselves versus the narrative that Chuck kept centering them in DESPITE what they would choose for themselves, the finale basically told us no, everything you ever found of value in this story actually meant nothing. It told us that Chuck’s story for them was their only truth in the end, and their only freedom was to be found in death.
Please, I am begging people, stop trying to gaslight us that this was some beautiful ending. Maybe think for a second that “your read” of the narrative that allows you to find peace with the ending is not what we saw and loved about this story for the 326 episodes leading up to this finale.
And please try to understand that we were not wrong to see the entire narrative through this lens. Because we were literally validated IN CANON, and told that we understood the depth of the story and the characters just fine, actually. There’s literally ONE episode of the entire series that burns it all down in a bewildering pile of wtf. And that’s #327. That throws that entire read out the window to well actually us all back into Chuck’s literal ending... This was literally the ending Chuck wanted to force them to enact for him, and it’s what ended up happening even after they defeated him-- the ultimate Big Bad of the entire series should’ve been defeated, but instead he pulled off one final victory over the entire story.
Becky: No. You can't-- Chuck: I did. Becky: Y- This is just an ending. Chuck: Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna get there, but I know where I'm goin'. Becky: B-But it's so... dark. Chuck: But great, right? I can see it now -- "Supernatural: The End". And the cover is just a gravestone that says "Winchester". The fans are gonna love it. Well? Becky: It's awful! Horrible. It's hopeless. You can't do this to the fans. What you did to Dean? What you did to Sam? Chuck: There, see? It's making you feel something. That's good, right?
and
Dean: Well, what now? You're not gonna dust us. Chuck: Oh, yeah? Why not? Dean: Because you're holding out. For your big finish. Yeah, we know about your galaxy-brained idea, how you think this story is gonna go. Sam got a little look into your draft folder. Chuck: Sam's visions -- they weren't drafts. They were memories. My memories. Other Sams and other Deans in other worlds. But guess what. Just like you, they didn't think they'd do it, either. But they did. And you will, too. Dean: No. Not this Sam. And not this Dean. So you go back to Earth 2 and play with your other toys. Because we will never give you the ending that you want. Chuck: We'll see.
And even in DEFEAT Chuck thought he understood these characters, thought that having rendered him powerless they would finally take their revenge and kill him, but they didn’t, because he never actually understood these characters at all. And the story he tried to force them into from day one was never about THEM, it was about HIM. 
And then Dean gets like two whole days of freedom and choice and is apparently incapable of making any of the choices that don’t throw him immediately back into Chuck’s favorite story. Like none of that resolution in the previous episode meant anything at all. He even SAYS it in the finale:
Dean: Yeah, no. I think about 'em, too. You know what? That pain's not gonna go away. Right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing.
And then two scenes later the show gives us the Nelson Muntz HA HA and Dean is no longer living, and Sam is left to carry on as a shell of himself and wander off into Blurry Wife Land to devote any even remotely content moment of the rest of his years to raising a  Replacement Dean to fill the void, and is never able to pick up the pen to write anything better of his own life than Chuck would’ve dealt him in the first place.
So I’m glad that top-layer takeaway is sustaining and enough for you. It wasn’t, and will never be enough for the rest of us.
What was actually real in all of this? We were.
Until we weren’t.
And that’s honestly a shit message to be pushing on people in the wake of it all. So please stop.
I should actually thank you for the kind intent with which your message is phrased, but that doesn’t make it feel less hilariously awful. Though I chose this one to reply to as the least insulting of all the messages currently in my inbox on this subject. So thanks for that, at least.
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undertaker1827 · 3 years
Text
idk if this is to much to ask but can u do undertaker x reader where they get into a heated fight which was undertakers fault ill leave the rest to you 
-
Absolutely! I got somewhat carried away with this, and it is very angsty. There is reconciliation, but not a happy ending!!
❗️Warnings; ANgst, some mean stuff being said, mentions of death
Masterlist
-
You knew something was wrong as soon as you walked into the parlour’s back room. Your first clue was the ‘closed’ sign on the shop door that Undertaker never bothered to put up, especially during the middle of the day, then the fact that he wasn’t in his customary position behind his desk. Instead, the mortician was reclined back on his small sofa, one leg crossed over the other and a book held in one hand, his disinterested gaze barely skimming the text he had to hold close to his nose to even be able to read. He barely glanced up as you walked in, not bothering with a greeting of any kind. You frowned.
“Undertaker?” The reaper’s chartreuse eyes flicked over to you, though he still didn’t speak. You raised a brow and held his gaze, but you didn’t try to move any closer to him, choosing instead to continue standing in the doorway. “You alright?” He let out a small huff of air through his nose, elegantly swinging his legs to the floor and standing in one fluid movement as he made his way towards you.
“Fine,” he muttered shortly, stopping in front of you and levelling you with a look that quite clearly said get out of my way. Your back straightened and your shoulders stiffened at the blatant dismissal, and some obstinate part of you sparked to life with anger. You shifted your weight to plant your feet squarely then crossed your arms over your chest, stare growing a little colder. All the mortician did in response was incline his head to one side to indicate he wanted you to move. You didn’t.
“What exactly is your problem today, huh? And is it so dire that you couldn’t even say hello?” Your words were bitter, and you refused to back down as you watched the reaper’s eyes narrow, sensed the shifting air around him.
“Move.” It took everything in you not to allow your lips to curl up into a snarl.
“No.” You stayed put as Undertaker sneered, only to get shoved harshly to the side as he strode past you, pain blooming in the shoulder that had connected with the doorframe. You practically had to jog to make up the distance between you with how fast he was walking, though his place was small enough that he couldn’t really get away from you. You followed the mortician through to the front room of the parlour, anger growing with every second that he refused to so much as acknowledge your presence. You grit your teeth as he fully turned his back to you in a show of looking through one of his bookshelves for something, which you thought likely wasn’t even there. “Look,” you sighed out, deciding to try a different approach, “if we could just talk about this-”
“And what would you know, hm?” He spun around on a boot heel to face you, burning green gaze seeming to spear right through you. “What concept of loss could you possibly grasp, how could you ever understand what it feels like to lose someone then have to live forever with the guilt of knowing there was nothing you could do-”
“Oh, I see how it is. I’m a mortal and am therefore incapable of understanding anything outside of the keyhole through which I view life, is that what you’re saying?!” It was most definitely a challenge and you were livid beyond measure, your words acidic because of course you had experienced loss, of course you knew what it felt like to be left behind and what right did he have to tell you otherwise.
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” the reaper spat, turning away from you once more, “you are incapable of even being able to imagine what it’s like, because there is no loss which is of any consequence to a human.”
The deafening silence that followed was louder than anything that had just been said, the pressure of it pounding in your ears alongside your rapid heartbeat. It was emptiness you felt, you realised after a few moments of standing there and staring at Undertaker’s back, though there had to be pain somewhere too given that your stinging eyes were now lining with tears. Not that you were of any consequence to your partner.
“How dare you,” you whispered with a light shake of your head, hardly capable of processing the true meaning of what he had just said, the same person who loudly and unabashedly declared his love for you every day, who held you through your sorrows and shared with you your greatest joys. It didn’t register that the tears were now dripping from your eyelashes, though the mortician seemed to finally realise that he had gone too far when he turned around to find you crying.
“Y/N,” he murmured, eyebrows drawing together in concern and voice softer now, almost as if a switch had been flicked inside his head. “Y/N, love, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, please forgive me-”
His hand stopped short as he reached out for your wrist, eyes wide but from surprise rather than pain. You’d smacked him so hard that your palm stung and his cheek was blooming red.
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, hand cradled close to your chest. “Just don’t.” You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so betrayed by someone that you loved. You rushed quickly past him and practically fled to the bathroom, locking yourself in and leaning back against the door then allowing yourself to slide to the ground, no longer trying to prevent your tears. What you didn’t see was Undertaker slumping against the front of his desk with his head resting in his hand, eyes squeezed shut and moist as he tried to work out what the hell had been going through his mind when he’d said something so unforgivable to you.
-
You didn’t speak to the reaper when you reappeared over an hour later, walking straight past him to the armchair he’d got stuffed into the corner of the back room, curling up and turning your back to him. He deserved that, he thought, that and a lot more. Slowly, almost silently, he sat on the arm of the sofa furthest away from you, gaze faraway though his head was facing the far wall.
“His name was Vincent, the earl I told you about.” Undertaker’s voice was low and soft, as if he was trying not upset you further. “He was - we were close. Closer, even, than either of us had any right to be.” He took a moment to swallow, trying to shove back the emotions bleeding into his tone. “Today is the anniversary of his death.” That at least made you look up. He spoke of this earl with such care, reverence almost, that you felt you could practically feel the connection that still lived on in your partner. Undertaker allowed his eyes to drift to yours for a moment, offering you a small, sad smile before he once again looked away.
“He was young, Y/N, so young. Had his whole life to live. And by the time I found out, I was too late. I’m always too late.” His voice cracked over the syllable and you could feel your eyes once again heating up, though this time it was on his behalf. You watched as he lowered his head and closed his eyes; clearly there was something more that he needed to keep his composure to say. “The thing is...” He tilted his head back, blinking rapidly now to stem the oncoming flow of tears. “I can’t be - too late for you. I don’t think I’m capable of impressing upon you how impossible it would be for me to recover if I was too late for you. But you’re still mortal. And when the time comes... I still won’t know what to do.”
The reaper dropped his head into his hands then, shoulders trembling in silent, heaving sobs as the fears he had kept hidden for so long were finally revealed to you. You felt sick with worry for him, in spite of everything he’d said just a short while earlier. You hardly knew what you were doing as you stood and crossed the room, arms encircling your partner and pulling him as close to you as possible. Your heart clenched at the heaving breath he took, but you just curled one arm around his head and the other across his shoulders, holding him as tightly as he could. It took all of a few seconds for Undertaker’s arms to wrap around your waist, head pressed against your abdomen where you were standing and he was still balanced on the arm of the sofa.
Neither of you said a word for a long time, but you became aware after that time had passed of the mortician apologising to you repeatedly, no longer sobbing but so emotionally fragile that you were certain he could start again at any moment. You did the only thing you could do; you carried on standing between his legs and gently ran your hands through his glossy hair, fingertips caressing his scalp and mentally willing him to just breathe, to just stay calm. You still needed to process everything that had happened, but that didn’t mean you were going to leave him when he was so utterly vulnerable.
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barzzal · 3 years
Text
when the ball drops
summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.
↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you
↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)
↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)
↳ length: imagine; 5.9k
↳ masterlist: the barn
note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)
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Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.
Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.
The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night. 
“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.
You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve. 
“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay. 
“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin. 
“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.” 
A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath? 
“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor. 
“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”
Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you. 
“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.
“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila. 
You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along. 
But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?
𖥸
It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays. 
Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended. 
“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth. 
“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time. 
“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way. 
Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city. 
“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.
“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for. 
“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar. 
“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her. 
Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug. 
“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with. 
“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second. 
“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.
“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.
You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone? 
A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.
A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.
“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation. 
“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl. 
Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.
Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.
“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line. 
Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.
Atta boy, Mat. 
“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.” 
He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.
“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” 
You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.” 
“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?” 
You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.” 
Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.
“See those girls?” 
Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well. 
“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.” 
“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”
Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin. 
“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.
“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?
“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.” 
“Exactly.” 
Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers. 
Apparently, it’s on the house.
“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.
“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.” 
To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.
“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you. 
There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.” 
He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind. 
“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.” 
“That long? How come?”
“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”
Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone. 
Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?” 
Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys. 
“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly. 
You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”
The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him. 
It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him. 
“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you. 
You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin. 
You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab. 
Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.
Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.
“I highly doubt that.” 
𖥸
Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make. 
“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?” 
He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers. 
“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at. 
Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach. 
“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.
“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window. 
“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.
“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.” 
After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.
You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind. 
“Come on, I know where we should go.” 
𖥸
Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.
There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career. 
Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night. 
You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point. 
“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm. 
The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze. 
“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.” 
“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him. 
“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble. 
“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.” 
You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence. 
You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did. 
“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”
You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago. 
You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.
You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.
That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.
Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.
Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.
Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.
“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds. 
He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.
“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.” 
“A crappy one, of course.” You add. 
Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.
“Definitely not this one.” 
As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.
You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays. 
“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was. 
Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year. 
“Will you walk me to my car?”
𖥸
You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play. 
“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly. 
Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.” 
“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment. 
“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.
You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. 
Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion. 
“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.
You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.
Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.
Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured. 
𖥸
Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years. 
You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so. 
Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat. 
You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.
You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.
Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard. 
“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause. 
However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night. 
“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice. 
Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”
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