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zoellajulien · 3 years

Text

the chains that bind us

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1,343

Warning: Family fighting, Royalty AU, Kidnapping (Mention), Character death (Mention)

With a face scrunched up into a glare, hot tears running down your face, trembling hands, it was apparent you were experiencing burning, searing anger. There seemed to be no calm within you as you frustratedly fought with the material of the dress you wore while trying to remove it. Thoughts that could be considered punishable continued to run through your mind. Who does that thick-witted man think he is, telling me to find a man and replace the queen?

The maids' faces held obvious concern, but they did not speak. That, however, did not include the head servant. "Princess! Be careful! Ruining a dress tailored days ago will cause the king great distress." Despite having sound reasoning, the words went unregistered.

"That man's emotions have no meaning to me, as mine do not to him." You spat, eyes trained onto the wall in front of you. The gasp from the lower maids did not cause guilt. "I would be glad if his emotionless self experienced grief."

"My lady, you do not speak truth in your words. Please, try to calm yourself!"

At this, you turned. "Maiden Riene, you dare question the word of your princess?"

Before the woman could answer, a shudder went through you. With that, tears traveled down your cheeks and beneath your chin. All anger seemed to leave your body and change into various other emotions. Riene, who had spent many years in your presence and experienced more than a few breakdowns, enveloped you into a hug.

"Princess-"

You cut her off, reminding her to use your name instead of a flimsy title.

She changed her wording and continued, "what is prompting such sadness within you?"

There was a pause in the room, silence enveloping the four of you, excluding your heavy breathing. Your eyes, almost always bright with wonder, held deep angst and hurt instead. Taking a step with the intent to turn, Riene grasped onto your wrist. She did not utter a word, giving you much-needed space.

"He called me to his throne, told me we needed to speak. He handed me the ring he bestowed upon my mother during their marriage." Silence seemed to build thicker as confusion grew. "He told me that I needed to prepare myself to replace the queen. He told me he started the process of finding a 'worthy' husband."

The younger maids looked at each other. One spoke up timidly, "Princess, can I ask why that makes you sad?"

Moving towards the window, you sat down and stared at the gardens below. "My mother was a ruler most queens would only dream of becoming. She helped this kingdom prosper, along with the others around us, and gave many people jobs. She never let one servant fall under mistreatment by anyone. She convinced my father to let women become knights and fight for the kingdom." You smiled and placed a hand over your bracelet. "She always told me one thing, though. She told me to marry for love. Mother said that without marrying for love, miserable days do not get better. You will not have the reassurances of a friend to accept your lows without hesitance.

"My mother made me promise, swear my word to her, that I would not marry a man I did not love. I expected to stay true with Mother's help, but then she slept upon her deathbed. And my father, that belligerent man, expects me to take over what she left! To forget the vow I made to a woman with more intellect than he could fathom."

You could tell you got your point across, seeing as the two younger servants looked at you with wonder. Their looks of interest almost broke your static look into a smile due to reminding you of small children.

After more silence ensued, you took the initiative and motioned at your dress. The trio began carefully undoing the ties, buttons, zippers, and other things holding you tight in the dress. That gave you time to ponder the moments you had shared with the queen, sparking an idea.

"Rience, stop."

"My lady, what do you mean?"

"I request you fetch Prince Peter, King Anthony's child. Bring him here, for I must speak to him."

"Your highness, you are partially unclothed! His majesty will think sinful activities abound!" The third maiden, who had yet to speak since you entered your chambers, warned.

"Do not let the king find out, then. Go, all of you. My chambers are off-limits until I call for you again." Riene gave you a skeptical look, worried about leaving you with a boy. "I will not be doing anything you're imagining, please, have some sense. Now, go."

---

"If it isn't the fairest royal descendant in all of the land." Voice heavy with his accent, Peter entered your bedroom without knocking. How uncivilized, your father would say. You loved it.

"You flatter me, your highness." You tease, turning to look at him, smiling when he shined his grin at you.

"Oh, please, all the formalities! We sound as though we are ruler's consorts who are ordered about by their betrothed."

Standing in front of you was the widely known prince, Peter Parker. He wore his family crest proudly on his chest, son of the famed Anthony Stark. Once, he had been the child of a thriving family that served King Anthony well. However, tragedy struck the family when Peter's parents died due to one of the king's enemies' attempts at war. In a moment of guilt, the king brought the boy into his home. The Stark kingdom was not far, only a half-day trip west.

Peter had stood at 5' 8" at the age of fifteen, only to grow taller for the next three years. Now, he stood at 5' 10". His hair was a deep brown color, made up of several short ringlets that stuck out when not styled. His eyes were also brown but were a few shades lighter. His broad frame reminded you of your relatively small stature and warmed your cheeks as he held a confident presence.

"You're in distress. Why? What troubles you?" Peter's voice came out soft. His footsteps seemed even quieter as he made his way to sit beside you.

"Have my maidens told you?" Your voice did not come out laced with malice. Instead, an emotion similar to a mixture of hope and wonder filled the room.

"About your father? They have. I noticed the unease they carried, so I prodded until they granted me explanations. If it was a secret, it's best you punish me and not them."

When you hesitated to find words, he gazed at your appearance. In turn, you became uncomfortably aware that the dress you wore was tighter than usual around your waist. Was that just the corset? Did the color compliment your skin tone?

"Darling?"

"What? Oh. Apologies, I was lost in my thoughts. I do not wish punishment upon you or the girls. For, I expected and am rather glad they told you, as I do not need to."

"I understand you are in anguish. But, if I may ask, what can I possibly do to ease such feelings? Our families are bubbling a feud already-"

"I wish for you to remove me from this castle. I do not imply death, but I wish to escape the eyes of my father."

"What?"

For a fleeting moment, as you sat in front of someone you trusted with far more than your life, fear encased you. His expression was no short of confusion, with a heavy lining of panic as well. An undeniable terror tore through your chest, resulting in an unplanned and inelegant explanation to tumble from your lips.

"You've heard what my maidens have said." You stood and walked to your bed, pulling a light cover over your shoulders. "Tell me, is it kingly to break a widow's last wish? I can not fulfill what I promised with my father forcing a marriage down my throat."

"Princess, are you imply we stage your kidnapping?"

taglist: @rorybutnotgilmore

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shofics · 3 years

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question 12, 5: modern university au !!!

Oh man, oh man. I actually had some ideas for a uni AU ages ago that never really became anything, and I’ve cannibalised it for parts for other fics since then (This is the outline I stole the ‘Wilde likes french vanilla coffee’, ‘Sasha has EDS and also possibly POTS’, and ‘Barnes, Carter, Cel, and Wilde all live together’ ideas from for Hope & Smith), but I do have the main ideas left over! It was a modern university AU + magic, so that’s what I’ve put down here. Another one that got frighteningly long, more under the cut <3

Hamid originally studies Pure Maths (this is… a real thing. As opposed to applied mathematics, I believe) because he wants to have a Fancy, High-Thinker Degree that his parents will approve of because it’s very intelligent but won’t necessarily understand.

His first year he takes what is basically the Magic 101 class, because he’s obviously got a natural proclivity for it so why not? It’s that format of ‘this is a generic overview of magic in general, let's take a week or two to go over some specifics for different things you might like to study so that you’ll be prepared.’ They spend a bit on magical history, bardic magic, would you like to study wizardry, or maybe the specifics of genetically inherited magics...

Hm. Yes, Hamid would actually like to study the specifics of genetically inherited magics, because everything they’ve gone over vis a vis wizardry is sounding fairly different to his lived experience and Oh Dear

He starts taking more magical history classes on the sly. His parents don’t need to know.

They eventually do find out, and there is what might be described as An Almighty Row. Hamid goes ballistic, his father goes cold, and Hamid declares then and there that he’s changing his major, screw all of this, he’s got one life and he’s going to live it how he wants, damn it.

His family will continue to pay for his school, of course. They don’t want the disgrace of him having to drop out. But his father makes it very clear that if he does decide to study magic instead, he’s not coming home.

Hamid studies magic. Hamid’s not coming home.

Wilde and Hamid met in that introductory class, and continued to be friends even as they never actually managed to take another class together.

Wilde studies bardic performance as a subset of the magic department, is trying really hard to fit in the requirements to get a degree in journalism as well, and also writes for almost every publication on campus, and works with the student theatre groups; they’ve performed some of his plays, and he has also been known to step in as a stage manager or a head of costumes or an assistant director (or even, on one memorable occasion, an actor) when necessary (when does this guy sleep).

Wilde is able to pull strings and charm people in specific ways enough to get Hamid a job as a stitcher in the costume shop with the theatre department, putting costumes together. He also manages to find Hamid a place to stay over winter break while the campus buildings are closed, after it becomes evident that Hamid’s parents won’t be paying for non-university housing anymore.

Hamid ends up staying with Azu, who has her own flat and has been dithering for ages between wanting to become a family practitioner and wanting to become some sort of social worker. Hamid is inconsolable, and Wilde is not good at consoling anyway, but it turns out that Azu is. Hamid helps her reorganise her entire schedule to allow for both eventualities, she listens in rapt attention as he takes her through his designs for the next show the theatre department is putting on, they bond over the fact that they’re both so far from home and far from their families, and by the time everyone else comes back to school and classes start again they’re practically attached at the hip. Hamid spends almost as much time at Azu’s as he does at his own dorm.

Wilde’s like, alright, that worked ridiculously well! Nice job me

Sasha starts out as an engineering student due to a scholarship that Bi-Ming Gusset helped her get, and she is instantly the darling of every engineering professor that has her in their classes; nobody knows anything about her other than that she’s wickedly good at what she does.

Cel, who studies engineering and theoretical physics and takes biology classes wherever they can fit them in, is their TA at one point. Cel is able to find out more about Sasha as a person than anyone else has ever managed- paradoxically, as anyone who watches them interact will note that Sasha never seems to talk and Cel never seems to stop, but, just like the designs they create together, it doesn’t look like it should work, but it does and it’s very hard to explain why.

At some point, to satisfy some general requirement, Sasha takes an education class. Sasha… really enjoys the education class? Sasha might want to study education? Sasha freaks out a bit. Sasha is having a really rough time of it recently, a lot of chronic pain and worrying physical problems with no clear cause, and really doesn’t need to stress about her future plans on top of everything else.

Grizzop is a pre-med and, unlike Azu, 10000% sure of it. He wants to be an EMT, and is part of the emergency response team at the university. When Sasha knocks on Zolf’s door at three in the morning, because he just so happened to be the one who was closest, and tells him that she just fainted for the first time and doesn’t know what to do and feels like she might again, and Zolf panics and calls the first response team, Grizzop is the first one to show up. Which is good, for Sasha, because she’s pretty thoroughly freaked out and desperately in need of friends at her sides.

Zolf is also a pre-med, not really because of any active desire to go into the medical field but just kind of because he needed something to believe in that was an easy ticket away from his family, and if anyone asks it has absolutely nothing to do with his brother’s death, shut up.

Zolf becomes Sasha’s designated Please Come With Me For Moral Support person as she begins a diagnostic process that lasts months and comes up with absolutely nothing. As a result, he’s there to watch as doctor after doctor basically throw up their hands and declare her either a medical oddity or a liar. She and Grizzop are both certain she’s got some sort of chronic illness, some autoimmune disease or something, but no one seems willing to diagnose her.

Zolf loses faith in the institution of medicine as a whole, starts to spiral a bit- and then spirals a lot. He ends up having to take a year off to sort out his life and his brain and his own mental health problems.

He moves out of campus housing and applies for as many jobs as he can- he’s not going home and he’s not asking for money, good grief, he’d rather stick his hands in an air fryer- and ends up with a couple odd jobs he bounces between every week, including constructing sets and running lights for the theatre department. This is how he meets Hamid, who he clashes with instantly, and Wilde, who is stage managing, who he also clashes with instantly but who really does his best to mitigate between them.

Do shenanigans ensue? Yes. Yes, absolutely. Sasha takes great amusement in winding Zolf and Hamid up and pointing them at each other, and Wilde gets caught between finding it equally as hilarious and also Sasha please, it’s literally my job to make sure the people working on this show don’t murder each other, help me out here

#Can you tell I have extensive experience with uni theatre #And also with chronic illness and the medical field as a chronically ill person #my post #my writing #glassandmarigolds #rqg #prompt fill #rusty quill gaming #rqgaming

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mewtonian-physics · 3 years

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my ranking of the alex rider original series (stormbreaker through scorpia rising) from ‘book i least enjoy rereading’ to ‘book i most enjoy rereading’ let’s goooo

spoilers for all 9 books under the cut

9. Ark Angel

...He went to space. He went to space. Also the entire plot could have been avoided if Drevin had actually bothered to provide a photograph of his son. I’m sure he had one. I still like this book but it’s literally so insane that I just don’t know what to do with it.

It is however really funny that Webber just goes and gives a speech insulting this super high-profile ecoterrorist group and acts like it’s no big deal and then they kill him. Shock of shocks.

8. Skeleton Key

Okay, points to this book for terrifying the shit out of me. God damn it does that shark scene scare me. Also, points for making me feel a little bit bad for a man who wants to nuke his own country because he thinks it will fix the place up. I’m still not entirely sure how that’s supposed to work, but that’s probably a good thing. I feel like understanding his thought process would say bad things about me. Still, I actually did feel sorry for him, if only a little. Dude was clearly mentally unstable and I doubt his son’s death helped at all. I also got sad about what happened to Carver and Troy. (Yeah, yeah, I’m a cringe fail American who has the American release. So sue me.) What a nightmare that must’ve been to endure... Otherwise, though, I’m not super into this book. The opening is just kind of meh and the way it leads into the rest of the plot seems a little bit unbelievable. Also, this might be an unpopular opinion, but Sabina annoys me. I would not get along with her at all and I can’t imagine her as a girlfriend. Skeleton Key does, however, absolutely excel at the emotional scenes.

Also, why are all the spy agencies so comfortable with sending in a 14-year-old? Especially when they outright admit that the other attempts have all died horribly? Bureaucracy’s a bitch.

7. Point Blank

Boo, Dr. Grief! Boo! We hate your white supremacy! I’m so glad you got a snowmobile to the face, you deserved it. (Perks of books written by Jewish people--we aren’t afraid to give the neo-Nazis an unpleasant death.) Anyway, this book definitely isn’t bad, but I wouldn’t really say it stands out in the series. It definitely does hammer home the point of just how trapped Alex is, since MI6 isn’t going to just let him go after one mission, and let’s face it, the plot with the clones is creepy as hell, if highly improbable. But I’m largely just here to see the neo-Nazi get snowmobiled. That’s right, I just completely changed the definition of a pre-established word. I’m a rebel.

Also, I hate Fiona Friend so much and overall think she just didn’t need to be in the book, but the line about ‘I’d rather kiss the horse’ made me laugh so hard. Alex, you sass.

6. Snakehead

Okay, let’s talk about how genius the plan in this book is. I love it! I love how Yu wants to kill the people involved in the peace conference without making them into martyrs, so he comes up with this whole elaborate plan to stage a natural disaster. It’s incredible. This dude was thinking so far ahead. And he would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling kid... But anyway, I don’t see a lot of books where the villain really acknowledges that killing their enemies could just cause more problems for them via turning them into martyrs for a cause. Also, the way he’s so polite and soft-spoken while also being a complete monster... This book genuinely gives me chills. Extra bonus points for the part in the hospital, the absolute nightmare of having all your organs slowly removed and sold off and everyone around you is being so nice about it? ‘Oh, don’t worry, Alex, it won’t be so bad. Here, take your medicine. Do you need anything?’ Literally just. What the fuck.

Also Ash can fucking fight me. You put your own godson in horrible danger on purpose! You killed your best friend! Bastard.

...And just in case the book wasn’t disturbing enough, Yu’s fate at the end lives in my mind rent-free and I think about it on a concerningly regular basis considering that the chances of that happening to me are so low they’re practically in the negatives. Damn you, Horowitz.

I would also be remiss if I did not mention just how much I love the tagline ‘once bitten, twice spy’.

5. Crocodile Tears

Ah yes, the book that kickstarted my drift away from the church... I kid, of course. I drifted away from the church for completely separate reasons. But Desmond McCain is always going to scare the shit out of me. The ability to kill countless innocent people while blissfully quoting Bible verses (that he takes wildly out of context and uses for his own self-serving means) is... well, I could actually say a lot about what that reminds me of, but I’m here to rate books, not religion. Moving on. This book has some really stellar antagonists, and the plot is chilling in a way that feels a lot more realistic than most of the other books. Even if some of it is a bit farfetched (sabotaging a nuclear power plant? Really?), the idea of using disasters for your own profit... well. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on why that is so believable. The Poison Dome is also a really cool and chilling scene--even Alex, who has the luck of the devil, can’t get out of that one unscathed. Further scares come in with the fate of Harold Bulman--imagine having your entire existence wiped and your identity changed while you were asleep! The breakdown he has over it is almost enough to make me feel sorry for him, even though he was ready to exploit a teenager and make his life a living hell just to turn a profit. Note the word almost.

Also. The opening makes me cry. Specifically the line talking about how Ravi’s kids would ‘never meet Mickey Mouse’. I lose my goddamn mind every single time I read it. That little personal touch turns the scene from a statistic to a tragedy. Once again: Damn you, Horowitz.

4. Stormbreaker

Yeah, this one gets the special cover shot. And why not? What we are looking at here is the birth of a legend. Move the fuck over, James Bond, Alex Rider is on the scene now. Anyway, yeah, this book is pretty damn spectacular. It has its stumbles, but as the first book in a series, that’s to be expected. Still, it pulls you in from quite literally the first line and keeps you going right up until the end. (If you came here from my post of memes, you know how much the line ‘Killing is for grownups, and you’re still a child’ destroys me.) It has the debut of much-beloved characters such as, of course, Alex--but also Jack Starbright, and of course, the best MI6 agent of them all, which is to say Smithers. Hell, even Yassen Gregorovich, especially once you get through Russian Roulette... Man, that was a rough one.

Seriously, though. This is a really good book. The scene with the Portuguese man-o’-war still gives me the chills to think about. (Have you ever looked up pictures of those things? They’re beautiful, but holy shit will they make you regret being born. Nature is funny like that.)

We also get the introduction of, of course, Alex’s patented sass (his response to Sayle saying he relates to the man-o’-war is HILARIOUS) and we get the inherent humor of Alex screwing up an alias one time and then just going by Alex for the rest of the series so he doesn’t do that again. Really, kid, I know you’re not a trained spy or anything but did you never play pretend growing up? Ever? You can’t pretend your name is Felix for a little while? That sounds like a you problem.

3. Scorpia Rising

I distinctly remember when this book came out, actually. I was on vacation at the time, and I remember my brother annoying the hell out of the poor workers at a bookstore we frequented there to see if/when they were going to get it in. They did, finally, and we bought it immediately, and I was of course absolutely desperate to read it. He got to read it first, though. -_-

This is a great book, an absolute emotional rollercoaster all the way through. The way Blunt tricks Alex back into service by staging a shooting was exactly the kind of cold, brutal behavior I’d expect from him. Seeing Julius come back was shocking, but very exciting, too. And Razim makes an incredibly chilling villain, with his absolute disregard for human life and his desire to measure pain. Also, seeing Smithers’s house was so much fun. Smithers in this book was just really fun in general, but he’s really fun in every book, so... nothing unusual there. But also, I want an unwelcome mat. Please?

2. Eagle Strike

‘But Penny,’ you might ask, ‘why is this book so high on your list? It has so much of Sabina in it, and you said she annoys you.’ That is true. What does not annoy me, however, is basically the entire rest of the book. I love the tense opening, and then reading through Alex’s real-life ‘playthrough’ of Feathered Serpent is still one of my favorite scenes. Cray is absolutely incredible as a villain, with the way that he truly believes in his cause--which is undoubtedly a good one! Yet the extremes to which he will go for that cause, and the fact that he very nearly succeeds, are what elevate him to one of the most dangerous villains in the series. That scene with Charlie Roper and the nickels is something I can never seem to stop thinking about. Actually, I think about it basically whenever I think about large amounts of money paid in small increments...

Also, I really enjoy how he gets into the whole plot in the first place, and I really enjoy Smithers saying ‘ah, fuck it’ and helping him out anyway. Go, Smithers. You once again prove me right in saying that you’re the coolest adult in MI6.

The revelation that Yassen knew Alex’s father is one that absolutely blew my mind first time around. The way his life was threaded into the lives of the Rider family--he worked with John Rider, was saved by him, killed Ian Rider, and then died for refusing to kill Alex Rider--wow. Wow. It gets to me. It really gets to me. This book is a masterpiece. I heard that it’s going to be what the second season of the TV series is based off of, and I’m so hyped for that. We love to see it, we really do.

1. Scorpia

I don’t believe anyone who says this book didn’t get to them at all. I just think they are lying. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to not be affected by this book. God. Just thinking about it reminds me of why I don’t think it’s possible. I mean, come on. We get all this backstory about Alex’s parents, we get tricked along with him into thinking MI6 killed his father, then bam, that was a lie, and Alex may have just fucked himself over big time. Also, that plot is terrifying! (And I bet anti-vaxxers had a field day with it, huh.) Julia Rothman is a really great antagonist, one of the only ones who didn’t go and explain her plan in great detail to Alex--the fact that she didn’t actually being a plot point was something I personally found pretty clever. In general, this book is... I tend to hate when people say they ‘can’t put it down’ because it’s usually an obvious exaggeration, but that really is how I feel reading it.

And again. If that ending didn’t get to you... Well, I just think you are lying.

#alex rider #spoilers

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wastelandcrown · 4 years

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logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 4: a tight-knit family

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a theatre brat to the highest degree (Sorry Roman stans), Remus being Remus, (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please dm me!! This chapter we see a LOT of Patton, a little of Virgil, and some Roman being an ass behaviour. I apologize if this chapter is lackluster, it’s important I promise!! Also I just finished chapter 5...its 3295 of intrulogical fluff

Pairings: Eventual Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Eventual One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogical, Platonic DRLAMP

Word Count: 2269

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer

After a few weeks, not disappointing Remus was a weak reason to be here.

Though he never considered himself a quitter, god he would love to just quit one thing in his life. The thing being theatre.

When Thomas arrived Roman bombarded him with questions. Turns out, Logan was cast as Hamilton due to his exceptional rapping. Roman, weaker at rapping but a very confident and strong singer, could provide the extremely skilled vocal performance required by Washington. If Logan were to get sick, Roman would play Hamilton and Remus would hand over Maria’s part to his understudy. Which made sense, of course. The beginnings of rehearsals were, by all means, not entirely awful. They were going to learn the music to the show, song by song. The first problem arises with Logan’s absolutely awful stage fright. After the first run-through of the title number, Alexander Hamilton, Logan almost threw up again. People looked directly at him whenever he sang or rapped. The musical director, Jamahl, assured him it was fine. Jamahl, as nice as he was, would be receiving a solid two on Logan’s chart. It’s okay, Logan, Everyone gets stage fright, Logan. That, quite frankly, sounded like a bunch of bullshit. Especially since every time Logan got too nervous and messed up, Roman laughed from off to his side.

Which shouldn’t bother him. It really shouldn’t. Except...Well, it was infuriating to be laughed at. For something he can’t control no less. He was ready to ball up his script and pelt him with paper until he stopped being a colossally egotistical idiot. Along with Roman’s frankly abhorrent behaviour, Logan also had to deal with feigning...romantic intimacy. Don’t get him wrong, Patton was a very nice guy. But...how would you feel knowing your first kiss would have to be fake for a theatre production? Bad. You would feel bad. So does Logan. Logan is sick of all of this, and by the end of the second week he finally snaps.

When he hears that during Helpless he needs to kiss Patton, he doesn’t bother to hide his surprise. Of course, after he does, Roman decides to open his big dumb mouth.

“What’s wrong, Microsoft nerd? Upset that your first kiss will be on the stage?”

Patton reels back and glares at Roman almost instantly, opening his mouth to defend Logan, when Logan turns on Roman himself.

“I am beginning to wonder if you ever just shut up,” Logan snaps, fists balled in anger.

“Because honestly, for the two weeks I have been in this theatre program, you have done nothing but spout off like a tea kettle about to boil over all because I happened to be better than you at one thing. So I am sincerely asking, do you ever shut up?”

Somehow, he has done the impossible. Roman is stunned into silence, his face goes red with anger.

“How dare-” Is all he manages to get out before Thomas calls for a five-minute break.

Thomas motions for Logan to come over to him, and he’s still fuming. If he were as dramatic as a certain hoity-toity theatre brat, he would be practically foaming at the mouth. Thomas is an adult, so he tries to pull himself together.

“I apologize-”

“Don’t. Roman kinda deserved that,” Thomas says with a smirk, “He’s a great kid, but he has a lot to learn.”

It’s his turn to be shocked into silence, because never in a million years would he expect an adult to enable such an outburst.

“Really though, Logan, Just try not to let it happen again. I’ll let it slide this time, okay?”

With a nudge to the side and a kind smile, Logan is sent to have his break.

Roman is quiet for the rest of the day. Logan could not be more pleased. Roman’s anger at him was unjustified and awful, he was overall awful. After today, he would need to add a negative rating to his charts. He doesn’t think he could ever get along with someone like Roman without eventually succumbing to his anger and strangling him. Logan knows his extreme anger is wrong, but Roman was just...just...absolutely, unbelievably, infuriating. Sitting in the lobby waiting for his father like usual, he is approached by Patton. Alone this time, without Virgil. Which is strange.

“You look like you’re about to rip someone's head off,” Patton giggles out with a sympathetic smile.

Logan sighs and gives him a little smirk, “My apologies, are you going to be getting a ride with Virgil tonight?”

“No, his dad is picking him up! I was actually wondering if you wanted to hang out!”

“I-” Logan thinks on this for a while, then shrugs. It may be for the best. Patton has been very kind, and he has defended him when Roman was being a jerk.

“Sure, let me message my father.”

Patton’s car is a beat-up looking second-hand thing that looks like it rolled out of a dump. Inside, it’s actually very well taken care of. Patton calls the car “Christine” and pats her lovingly. Hanging from the rear-view mirror is a small frog-shaped air freshener that makes the car smell of strawberries. The seats are comfortable, and Patton’s music is sweet. Eventually they pull into a parking lot in a townhouse area, and as they walk down the street Patton waves and says hello to all his neighbours that are outside.

“You know them all?”

“Oh, yeah! Lots of them have babysat me, or my sisters! And I’ve babysat for them too!”

Huh. He didn’t know Patton had sisters. Though, the second they enter his house, it’s entirely obvious.

In the living room, there are three young girls. Patton’s shoes are barely off when the two youngest ones rush him and engulf him in hugs. The older one walks over and smiles at Logan first.

“Hi, which one are you?” She asks, and Patton laughs.

“Delilah Ann! That’s not nice!”

“I’m Logan, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Lilah, I’ve heard a lot about you. Mostly ‘cause Pat doesn’t shut up.”

Patton looks a little pouty, but Logan thinks he likes Lilah. She doesn’t look much like Patton at all. Her hair is more wavy than curly, and a very nice strawberry blonde colour. She doesn’t have glasses, and dresses very tomboyish, the only thing that ties them together are their freckled cheeks. She’s only thirteen, but Logan finds her interesting to talk to. While Patton is dealing with the younger ones, she tells him about how she wants to be a mortician and is the smartest in her family. Logan smiles a little while they have a mostly one-sided conversation.

One thing the siblings have in common is certainly their talkative likability.

The younger two are put to work on their homework at the dining table, and Patton begins to set up dinner. Logan sits next to the girls at the table, Delilah retreating to her room, chatting with Patton as he cooks. He offered to help but was denied at every turn. Something about him being a guest, and how he shouldn’t have to. They’re discussing their roles in the play when the youngest slams her head against the table dramatically.

“Patton! I don’t wanna do this anymore!” She whines, Patton puts some potatoes in a pot then brushes off his hands on his apron.

“Do you need help, or do you need a break?”

“Help!”

Logan peers over her paper and sees a bunch of simple multiplication questions, she must only be in second or third grade.

He clears his throat, “If you’d like, I could help you.”

“Oh! Oh! Yes! Patton can Logan help me please!”

Patton agrees, despite obviously looking at Logan and saying ‘You really don’t have to’ with his eyes. Logan likes to teach, he’s more than happy to help out. Especially since Elaine is extremely charming. You can definitely see how much she looks like Patton. Big square glasses, blonde hair in pigtails, tons of freckles dotting chubby cheeks. She acts like him too, spouting out awful dad jokes that make Patton lose it laughing in the kitchen. She tries her best to listen, and manages to actually complete her math homework with a pretty good mark. Her teacher will hopefully be impressed. Logan’s dad texts and asks if he needs to be picked up, but Elaine begs him to stay for dinner and...well he can’t say no, can he? Patton says he doesn’t have to stay, but he wants to.

He’d never had siblings, it had always just been him and his parents. Though he loved them, and they loved him, it was so...lonely sometimes. He had always wanted a little brother or sister, maybe even a pet, but it never really happened. The energy in Patton’s house was somehow a perfect mix of lively and calm, they felt like they were really a family. Logan relished in it. The feeling of community, full of love so openly given and received. The most he had were very quiet holiday dinners with the few Larks who were left. He remembers being Elaine’s age, he felt so lonely. She wasn’t lonely though, she was full of love. So was Patton. It was very nice. He watches Patton cook and he chats with him while realizing he’s been much too harsh on him. His kindness wasn’t fake, there was no way. He was a real person who was actually that nice. He defended him out of the kindness of his heart.

Ding.

hey logan wyd rn

Ah, Virgil. That was a pleasant surprise.

I’m actually at Patton’s house. Elaine has roped me into staying for dinner.

He can almost hear Virgil’s little chuckle.

yeah she does that hows sophie

Sophie? Oh, that must be the third sister. She’s very quiet, her eyes haven’t once looked upwards the whole time they’ve been sat together.

“Ahem-Uhm-Sophie,” Logan starts, and Sophie looks up from her homework, “Virgil was wondering how you are?”

Her eyes light up, “I’m good. Is he going to come over?”

She’s good. She wants to know if you will be coming over.

hah, sure tell her to give me 20

“Yes, give him twenty minutes.”

Sophie smiles, and Logan is reminded of Virgil almost immediately. She has dark brown hair that covers her face and a bit of a natural glare. Her smile is shy, and he wonders if Patton secretly stole Virgil’s little sister.

It seems like it, even more, when Virgil actually gets there. Sophie’s entire demeanor changes. She becomes extremely talkative and tells Virgil all about how she’s got a new villager in her animal crossing town. Virgil entertains her with talking, going and helping Patton to cook. Logan gets up to help as well, but Virgil waves him away. Virgil looks like he belongs here, in this little dining room-kitchen. He’s laughing beside Patton, talking to both girls and Logan, helping cook and set the table. Logan can’t help but wonder how many times he’s done this before. While Patton is putting the food on the table, the door opens and a tired-looking woman enters. Virgil goes to greet her, and she smiles. Her hair is curly and blonde, her eyes are a cloudy green, she is covered in a smattering of freckles, and she looks...just like Patton.

Logan gets up to go greet her as well. When she sees him she beams and it’s like he’s been confronted by the sun herself.

“You must be Logan! Virgil and Patton talk my ears off about you!” She pats his head, and continues, “The boys just adore you! It’s about time you came for dinner!”

He almost can’t speak, and both Virgil and Patton whine about her embarrassing them, but he nods, “Thank you for having me, but I’ve only known them for two weeks, Ma’am.”

The woman looks a little confused, then laughs joyously, “No need for that, kiddo! Just call me Lisa, okay?”

After patting him on the shoulder, she slinks by and greets all her children. Lilah has come back down, and the whole table is now filled to the brim. Dinner is filling and delicious, Patton really has a talent for the culinary arts. Which is strange considering Logan took him as someone who, like him, couldn’t cook to save his life.

After dinner, Patton brings Logan and Virgil to his room to hang out. They play video games, talk about anything they can manage, and by the time it’s late Logan is smiling. At nine, Elaine and Sophie are whining about Patton putting them to bed. Virgil and Logan wish them good night and Virgil drives Logan home.

“Logan, I’ve gotta ask...why did you agree to hang out with Patton?”

“Well...I’m not actually sure. I think that I needed it.”

“How do you mean?”

Logan looks out the window and thinks to himself. Why? He’s never had friends, or much of a close family. He figured he agreed because well…

“Patton has something I don’t. It helped me understand him better to see what he has.”

Virgil accepted that, but Logan wasn’t sure he understood it fully. He’s not even sure he does.

That night, Roman gets a negative two. Patton gets a ten, and written on his pages are the names and personalities of his family members. Along with that, is a very simple phrase.

I have concluded that Patton is, indeed, a very good person.

Why it took him this long to come to terms with, he will never understand.

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make-it-mavis · 3 years

Text

Homesick (Entry #40)

(cw: discussion of addiction and relapse) ----------

02/02/88 8:04 PM

Hey.

Well. At this point, it feels like there is so much to say, yet so little… comparatively.

Most of this bedtime story has been rife with screaming arguments, hallucinations, and explosions. There will not be so much of those, moving forward. I could say that the day I blew up Felix’s apartment was a turning point for me. It was the first moment where I truly felt like I had taken a step towards moving on and… letting go of what I could. But it was not a sharp turn, nor was it a great, leaping bound. Things did not suddenly get easier. No, they were only difficult in a different way.

But they were different.

I could probably fill a completely separate notebook with the details of my journey through counselling since then. But that would be very boring to read and to write, so I will just give you the important bits to catch you up to speed. Stay with me, now. This is going to be a whole lot condensed into chewable pieces.

In counselling, we learned about the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Looking back, I can see how non-linear it was for me. I spent so long dancing around the first three. But after my amnesia was cured, I arrived at depression. Collapsed into it, really.

Now, I’ve been depressed before. It was quite some time ago, before you and I even met. So I recognized what I was experiencing. But this time around, it was… more acute. Less existential, and more like an injury. I wasn’t lost inside my head. I knew exactly what I was sad about, and it was as real and tangible as any physical wound I had sustained before.

It was as if my very code had been pushed to the point of exhaustion and could not get back up. I spent most of my time on Felix’s couch, and most of that time was spent sleeping. I barely showered and I smelled like hell, but Felix still insisted on having tea and chatting at least once a day. He did almost all the talking, and I usually didn’t drink the tea, but he didn’t mind. He’d just drink it for me, and end up taking such frequent trips to the bathroom that I’d fall asleep again.

Given that I could barely make myself get up and walk around, going to counselling was more daunting than ever. November passed by without me taking notice, and it was maybe a week into December before I was able to make it there again. When I did, I told everyone what I’d done. What I’d remembered. And how I had been absent so long because I felt too depressed to come. Then, of course, they told me that the best time to come to counselling is when you don’t want to. I wanted to argue with that, but they were probably right.

I very quickly came to understand why counselling was done in a group. At first, it felt like a punishment, like we all had to sit around and think about what we’d done. Or that there just weren’t enough counsellors for one-on-one therapy. It’s not even entirely just for empathizing with others’ similar experiences, or creating a sense of community. No, it’s something much more annoying than that.

A group will hold you accountable. They’ll make sure you’re participating and call you out when you’re not. I went into the counselling experience hoping I could just do the time and get out, but no one gets away with that in a group. You can’t just rip off the bandaid.

No, counselling is more like ripping off the bandaid, then digging into the wound with tweezers to pull out all the shrapnel, then stitching up the wound, and repeatedly changing the bandages to avoid infection. And then those stitches can sometimes come loose and you have to do them all over again.

It sucks. It hurts. But I won’t say it doesn’t work.

Anyway, around this point in the ‘story,’ I still hadn’t quite finished Step 4, with the ‘fearless moral inventory.’ I was still having trouble deciding just what to say. I had Felix be the audience to my venting one night. I explained to him my predicament: I had done many things that others would consider ‘bad’ or ‘immoral’ over the course of my life, far too many to count or to list. And a whole lot of them, I didn’t even feel bad for. Pranks, petty theft, and general snarkiness seemed harmless enough. I didn’t know what was worth adding to the list.

Felix suggested sticking to the big ones. What things did I consider not so harmless? What things were bad enough to make me lose sleep over? What did I really, truly regret?

I didn’t want to tell him. Those questions felt too prying. But, reminding myself that I was trying to make big changes, I eventually managed to name it all.

I felt bad for… assuming the worst of everyone. Especially anyone close to me. I felt bad for getting them all involved with my problems, and… refusing their help, but still somehow taking advantage of them. For making Felix worry that I was going to die, and for making Wreck-it feel responsible.

And Tapper. Just… in general, Tapper. Everything I’d done to him. Lying to him. Using him. Endangering his game.

Endangering my game.

Threatening that one anonymous stranger for a hit of GC.

And getting you hooked on my Shield and Lift buffs… way back when.

I took Felix’s suggestion to write all that down, and whatever else I might have been feeling. It definitely helped me sort out my thoughts. It didn’t feel good. At all. In fact, it was hard to fight the idea that I was a lost cause, and that even before all this, I was not worth saving. But I pushed on regardless, because it felt like the only direction to move in.

As difficult as it had been, listing all that earned me Step 4, and after I recounted it all to the counselling group, I had Step 5, Integrity, under my belt.

Even though it was hard, I was doing well in the program. I really was, all things considered. I had made it farther than I thought possible at the beginning. But like I said… those stitches come loose sometimes. Recovery, like my grieving process, has not been linear. And after Step 5, some part of me felt stretched too far. Like my code once more remembered that I’m not the sort to lay myself open for others to see. Too many sprites had been given deeply personal pieces of my mind to take home with them. It was unnatural. It wasn’t right. It was not like me. I couldn’t piece together this new life with the life I knew before and have it make sense. I was trying to make meaningful changes, for sure, but suddenly, I felt like I didn’t recognize the sprite I’d become. I didn’t recognize my game or anyone in it. It was… eerie.

It put a panicked, defensive fight in me. I had to set things straight. I would not allow this strange, foreign life to continue until I did. So, for the first time in… longer than I had realized, I went back to my den in the woods. Just to be somewhere familiar and see if I could remember who I was.

It helped a little at first. I dug through all the junk I had amassed, each one connecting to some small memory from before this all happened. But then I found three things that were… a dangerous combo.

Your scarf and goggles… and the bottle of blue wine Tapper had given me at the memorial. Still unopened.

I was able to resist the wine. But I… didn’t exactly get rid of it, like I should have.

As for your old, burnt belongings...

I didn’t understand what I was doing at the time, or why. I get it now, I think. Writing my thoughts down had helped in Step 4, and my head was a twisted, tangled mess that I just had to sort out before I went insane. I needed to understand what I’d been through and how I got there. It’s just that I was only inspired to start writing once I saw your scarf and goggles again. Once they threw that angry, vicious anxiety through me and I was possessed by the overwhelming need to reach you from beyond the grave and tell you just what you had done to me.

So… I started writing this story. Or these letters, or... journals. You know.

Since then it’s been… well, incredibly therapeutic. And, just like I thought they would, the folks at counselling said that journaling is a very healthy coping mechanism. That’s what I called it, too. Journaling. I wanted to keep the fact that I was writing to you private. I was already revealing so much to them. I wanted to have just one thing I didn’t have to tell them.

I didn’t think it would have made a difference, anyway, and it didn’t. Not at first. I finished Step 6 just fine, which was Willingness. I was pretty willing to let go of my old bad habits in whatever way I could. Step 7 was harder for a few reasons, not the least of which being that my higher power is not sentient, and I could therefore not ask it for forgiveness, or to remove my character flaws. But I sort of earned Humility in a different way.

You see, I didn’t tell them I was writing to you, but I also... didn’t tell them about the wine.

And thoughts of you had not mixed well with the temptation of substances in the past. So, around Christmas, I holed up in my den and… relapsed. It was nothing big, as far as relapses go. But I’m still not proud of it.

I just wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be. My first Christmas without you.

Anyway… don’t worry. That didn’t put too big a snag in things. I told Felix, and I told everyone in counselling about it, and they all understood. A couple others actually had similar challenges. Many of us had someone to miss, and it was a hard time of year to miss somebody. I admitted to them that I sort of felt like I’d failed. But Clyde remarked that I showed humility by so willingly turning to the group for support, which had been hard for me at the start. I very easily could have tried to hide out of shame or a need to shoulder it alone. Maybe I couldn’t ask color for forgiveness, but in a way, I asked the group for it.

I still sort of don’t understand it. But, hey. Whatever the ghost says.

In any case, I was able to let the mistake go and move forward, which… felt very freeing, now that I think of it. Since then, I’ve been counting the days I’ve spent completely sober, slowly racking them up like the most boring, most difficult sort of high score.

It’ll be forty today.

I’m forty days sober, and I just finished Step 9 a couple days ago. So… I guess I’m doing pretty well.

I’ve been writing a while, and this pen is nearly out of ink, but before I wrap this entry up, I really ought to tell you about Step 9, and what it brought about.

Step 8, for the record, is barely worth mentioning. It’s Love, which, y’know, gross. But it’s basically making a list of the sprites you’ve wronged, which I felt like I had done three times already. Step 9, then, Responsibility, is making amends with those sprites wherever possible.

I’m already well on my way with Felix. Tapper, well… I’ve done the best I can for now. I don’t even know who the sprite I threatened was, so there’s little I can do there. And you… are kind of hard to reach lately. So, the only possible option left was...

Wreck-it.

I’d known for quite some time that we were overdue for a chat. We hadn’t really talked at all since I’d come out of that coma, which meant we had been surviving on brief, awkward greetings and the smallest of small talk for a couple of months. We were not on bad terms, nor good terms. We just sort of existed in the same space, trying our best to just tolerate each other and to ignore the elephant in the room. And before all this, I would have been content to leave things that way forever if it meant I wouldn’t have to talk to him about our feelings.

I only managed to speak to him once the 12 Step Program gave me any idea of what to say, and the desire for things to stop being weird outweighed the awkwardness.

I caught him shortly after the arcade closed the other night, just as he was about to board the train to leave our game. Caught him quite off-guard too, apparently, given the way he jumped and tried to smooth his little yelp into a casual speaking voice.

Like this: “Ahh--!! Ahh! Ahh, Mavis, I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

Making someone jump always brings at least a bit of a smile to my face. “Hey there, uh… Ralph.”

The use of his name rather than his title already earned me a confused eyebrow quirk, but I saw it as setting the mood for the uncharacteristically intimate conversation we were about to have. It seemed effective, given how still he became, almost holding his breath in a nervous sort of curiosity.

“You, uh… going to Tapper’s?” I asked, trying to get him to relax a bit.

“Yep…” he said, rapping his fist against his leg slightly, like he does. “Do you… wanna come too, or..?”

I pressed my lips together, not quite smiling. “Nah. Still can’t go anywhere.”

“Oh-- oh-- yeah, of course. Wow. Stupid question,” he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “That, uh, counselling thing still goin’ on, then? Or am I not allowed to ask?”

“It is,” I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And… you are allowed. It’s actually more or less what I need to talk to you about.”

“...Really?” he asked cautiously. “Me? Why?”

I closed my eyes and let out a steady breath, sorting my thoughts for the hundredth time. “We probably should’ve talked sooner, it’s just that…” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Well, I’ll say it outright. I’m supposed to talk to everyone I’ve wronged. And that includes you.”

He paused. Then he squinted. “Everyone?”

“Well,” I said flatly. “No. Just the ones I’ve done the dirtiest. The big deals.”

“And I really made that list for you? Me?”

I sighed with a slow blink, and cut to the chase. “Ralph, I heard everything you said to me when I was in that coma. Everything.”

“Oh,” he said, shifting his weight awkwardly, until the memory visibly returned to him and he stood rigid. “...Oh.”

“Yeah. Do you…” I struggled to maintain eye contact, “Do you… I mean, do you still actually blame yourself for anything that happened to me… after that night at Tapper’s?”

“Pfft,” he huffed, smiling joylessly. “C’mon. Ew. Did I say that?”

I stared.

He quickly gave in, folding his arms with a sigh. “...No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it. I wanted to help you. I did. I never would have dragged you out there if I’d known you’d… Well. Whatever. Bad Guys aren’t meant to help anybody. Lesson learned, yet again.”

“Yeah… sure. Except the thing is, you, uh… did help,” I said, and saw him perk up the tiniest bit. “You let me stay with you. Even though I was a thankless, entitled pain in the neck. You kept me company just because I didn’t want to be alone. I know you n’ I aren’t exactly bosom pals, and I know you’re a Bad Guy, but… I guess that just makes it even more of a damn decent thing to do.”

He seemed surprised by my words, even a bit shaken by them in some way, but still, his gaze fell away from me a bit. Seemed like he was no better at accepting genuine praise than I am.

Pushing on, I said, “And if you feel guilty right now because you actually wanted to cave in my skull the whole time, then, don’t. I’d have wanted to throw my ass to the curb, too, if I were you. I don’t blame you for pushing me out. I did at first, but I don’t anymore. I was already primed to spiral, Ralph. I was headed for rock bottom one way or another. Don’t blame yourself for what I did. That’s my fault, not yours.”

He looked at me again, a quiet sort of disbelief in his eyes, which was good, because I needed to look him in the eye for what I was about to say.

“Ralph, I’m sorry.”

At that, he seemed… put on the spot, almost. Like he had no idea how to react. He took a moment to think and to breathe, like everything had to sink in. I knew that he would be surprised, so I didn’t really react. I had gotten all of my weird, emotional words out. The hard part was over.

I watched him begin to scrutinize me, like there was some hidden trick behind my back. He even slowly walked in a circle around me, trying to figure me out. He found nothing, and I offered nothing.

“So…” he said, squinting at me sidelong, “you’re sayin’... you’re sorry. You. You, Make- it Mavis, high queen of the gremlins, are sorry.”

I knew he would do that. Make a huge, obnoxious deal out of it. “Yes,” I said plainly.

“For everything?”

“Yes,” I repeated, with just a twinge of annoyance.

“Everything.”

“Yes.”

Then he pointed at me, as if firing off his question quick-draw style: “Even for calling me a trash gorilla?”

“Hell no,” I recoiled a bit. “I’m a recovering addict, not a kiss-ass.”

That was the first time I saw him almost relieved that I’d sort of insulted him. He straightened up and folded his arms, the tension in his body visibly relaxing as he sized me up. He nodded the slightest bit. “Yeah, I know,” he said, “that was just a test to see if you’d actually lost your mind.”

“Oh, so this is the point where you question my sanity. Nothing in the past couple months has been all that unusual, then,” I said, sort of smirking.

“Nah,” he reluctantly mirrored my smile. “Home intrusion, explosions, tryin’ to conk Gene over the head with a wooden club -- all standard Mavis fare.”

That earned a snicker from me. “Don’t think he’s escaped my clutches just yet.”

“Yeah, in his dreams.”

A silence set in at that point. Both of our smiles slowly began to fade as the silence grew from content to awkward once again. I wasn’t sure what else to say, but Ralph looked like he was working on something, so I waited.

“So,” he eventually said, his tone more sober, “you… really mean all that, huh. What you said about… Y’know. That you’re sorry.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I do,” I said quietly.

“Wow,” he almost chuckled, and gave me a sort of smile that I’d otherwise never seen on his face. “Counselling’s sure done a number on you, huh?"

"Well," I shifted my weight, unsure how to respond. It was a strange truth, and it was even stranger hearing it from him. "That's the idea, anyway."

Ralph seemed pleasantly surprised by the whole encounter, but it was just about over. Some small part of him must have wanted to draw it out even longer, a sentiment that I'm sure came as puzzling to him.

Scratching his chest a bit, he said, "Yeah, well… maybe once you're free again, and if you're up for it, we could go for drinks at Tapper's again. Just rag on Gene like the old days. Or Felix, even. I'm sure he's drivin' you up the wall lately with all the fussing."

I clicked my tongue. "Not… for drinks, no. As amazingly depressing as it is to say, I don't drink anymore."

"Really?" He asked, just before lightly smacking himself in the head. "D'oh, of course you don't. Wow. Sorry. I don't know where my head's at today."

"S'okay," I shrugged. "But there's more than just drinks at Tapper's. We can still go. I'll just have snacks or something. Maybe some actual, real pretzels, unlike last time."

He tilted his head. "Last time…?"

Opting to not recount the embarrassing tale of my snack hallucinations from my last visit, I waved it off. "Nevermind. Anyway, this is all making the very big assumption that Tapper will even let me through the doors. Y'know… after everything."

Ralph frowned. "You miss him, huh."

My gaze fell to his feet. "Yeah," I muttered.

"Well, I'm just on my way to see him now," Ralph said, finally turning around to slowly squeeze himself into an undersized train car. "I'll let him know."

Just the thought of any sentiment of mine reaching Tapper sort of sprung a leak in my heart, and before I could think, I was talking, my voice trembling the tiniest bit.

"If-- If you're talking to him anyway," I said, stepping forward almost as if I would follow him, "could you tell him something more?"

Ralph seemed a little surprised by my emotion, but he nodded anyway. "Sure. What is it?"

"Tell him I'm-- I'm…" I sighed, and my shoulders fell heavy. "I'm... sorry. I was probably the worst to him, out of everyone. And I know I can't take any of that back. And if he never wants to see me again… I can accept that. But there's just one thing I really need him to know."

I swallowed. "He's the reason I even agreed to counselling in the first place."

"Really?" Ralph asked quietly.

I nodded, not quite looking his way, focusing all my energy on keeping it together. "Yeah. He… urged me to get help, and when I didn't, I… nearly got his game unplugged. I'm putting in the work now. I'm getting help. I'm getting clean, just like he said. I'm thirty-eight days sober. And it all started because I just… had to make it right. Doing right by him is what's kept me going through a lot of this."

I took a moment to breathe and rein in my unruly emotions, trying to consider just how much I really wanted to share with Ralph. I'm working on being vulnerable, but I've found that I can't rush it. Plus, I'm sure Ralph felt a little awkward on the receiving end. He just watched me, unsure of what to say, but a quiet sympathy still showed in his eyes.

"Just…" I cleared my throat, "just tell him I'm sorry… and thank him for me. Please."

He offered me a half-smile and a soft nod. "Okay. You got it."

At that point, the dinky little cord train began to slowly pull out of our tiny station, sort of squeaking with the effort of bearing Ralph's weight. I watched him go, feeling that hot embarrassment that follows a particularly personal share. The thought that Ralph was probably happy to see me being good to Tapper for once was both comforting and… kind of annoying.

After the train had moved a short distance away, I just about turned to leave, but Ralph's voice caught my attention.

"Oh, and Mavis?"

I looked to see him twisting awkwardly in his seat, calling back to me.

"...Thanks."

That just made my face feel a little bit hotter, but I gave a small smile and flicked a casual salute his way. "Don't mention it," I called back, and waited until the train disappeared into the dark mouth of the tunnel before adding quietly, "...ever."

After that, for the first little while, my evening carried on just about the same as ever. I wound up in Felix's apartment for the usual tea and chats. I played my guitar for a while, and Felix listened happily until the tea was all brewed, and we sat on the couch while he told me about his day. I talked a bit too, but I didn't tell him about my conversation with Ralph. I wanted some light chatter about nothing in particular, a break from the heavy topics that run so rampant for me lately. I even wanted a bit of tea. I still maintain that chamomile tastes like soap, but peppermint is actually pretty good with a hefty scoop of sugar.

It was a couple hours into our visit that the most unusual, most… amazing thing happened.

I had given in to the primal need to lie flat on the floor as I often do, and Felix was sitting at the table polishing his medals when we heard footsteps in the hall. Huge, heavy, thumping footsteps. We glanced at each other for just a minute before we both nearly leapt out of our pixels from the front door being knocked off its hinges.

Through the open, splintered door frame, there stood Ralph, eyes wide. Instantly, his face filled with apologetic embarrassment.

"Woops," he chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

I sat up, and Felix walked over to the door with a bit of an exasperated sigh. "That's alright, Ralph," he assured, easily repairing the door with his hammer and holding it open anyway. "It's polite of you to knock."

My heart began to settle from the frightful shock it suffered, but I was sort of wary to see Ralph again so soon after our last conversation. I didn't know what more he could want, but I didn't feel the emotional energy to deal with whatever it was. I stood and walked over to the door to meet him. He had to twist down a bit to see through the doorway, and his awkward stance was punctuated with a nervous grin.

"Hey-- Hey Mavis," he said.

"Ralph," I grit my teeth just a bit, more from discomfort than anger. I let my eyes dart to Felix just a bit, hoping to signal to Ralph that now was not the time. "...Hi. What… what's up?"

"Uh, well…" he sucked his teeth, "could you step out here for a sec?"

"Why?"

"So I don't have to stand like this."

That was fair. I obliged, and nodded to Felix to give us some privacy. After he closed the door, I immediately whispered to Ralph, "Okay, now what's so urgent?"

Even though he didn't have to bend over anymore, Ralph still had to bow his head to fit under the relatively low ceiling. He put out his hands just a bit to urge me to be calm.

"Look, I'm not here to bug you," he said, and lowered his voice when I shushed him. "I'm just here to make a delivery."

I squinted at him sidelong. "Of what?"

"Well, a message, for one," he shrugged, smiling a little bit. "I talked to Tapper for you, like you asked. And he wanted me to tell you something."

I straightened up, and my heart sort of skipped a beat. "...Oh. What did he say?"

"A couple things. He's, uh… well, he's real happy to hear you're getting help. He wants to congratulate you for that. You've got his full support, he said. It meant a lot to hear that you've been doing well, because you've been on his mind. He thinks about you all the time."

I didn't know what to say or how to react. It was a lot to take in. I had sort of made my peace with him hating me after everything I did, so to hear that he still cared about me was… a relief so acute that it sort of broke my heart.

I barely had time to process it all before Ralph revealed the true hard-hitter.

"In fact, uh," he said, "he'd been thinking of you so much that he… made something for you. He told me to give it to you right away, because… I dunno, he said you seemed ready for it."

Then he reached into the chest of his overalls and pulled out a square picture frame. I was confused at first, but once he handed it to me and I saw what it was, my heart stopped.

Inside the frame were napkins from his bar. Four of them, arranged in a neat square. And on those napkins were… drawings. Two of them were clear, loving depictions of you that I didn't even remember drawing. And on the other two were doodles that you and I had done together. Unflattering, playful caricatures of each other. Our drawing styles could not have been more different -- mine being fluid and organic and yours being clean-cut contour line drawings, but somehow, they worked so well together. The fragile paper was slightly ripped in places from the pens we used, and there were small sections where the ink bled from mug-shaped rings of moisture. All in all, it was a chaotic, dirty mess.

It was us.

It was us at our very happiest moments, just goofing off together, adoring each other without ever needing to say it.

It was the most beautiful gift I'd ever received.

Struck silent by a wall of emotion, I just held it and stared at it in utter disbelief. The fact that Tapper would have cared enough to save such simple things was more than I could comprehend. The drawings could have been years old by then, but still…

It wasn't until my tears fell and splashed against the frame that I even realized I'd been crying.

"Oh," Ralph whispered, a bit of panic in his voice. "Mavis. Crying. Uh-- I'm-- I'm sorry. I didn't want you to-- I'm--"

His hands hovered around me hesitantly, completely lost as to how to comfort me. But he didn't have to decide. I felt an urge and followed it immediately.

I just reached out and took one of his huge, square fingers in my hand, even though his heavy code burned a bit to touch. He froze, rightfully taken aback. I didn't explain. I just stepped a bit closer so that he would not have to reach out to me quite so far, hugged the frame to my chest with my other arm, and bowed my head while I wept silently. Ralph said nothing, but I felt his arm relax a bit once he accepted the situation.

Eventually, I pushed a few quivering words out. "Thank you," I muttered. I looked the gift over once again. "I… I can't believe this."

"So you like it?" he asked quietly.

I could only nod.

"I'll pass that on to Tapper, then," he sighed, but I could hear a smile in his voice. "Gee, I'm just a nine-foot-tall messenger boy, aren't I?"

"Thank-- thank you," I choked out again.

"Nah… it's nothin'," he shrugged.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gift in my hand. It was so perfect. It felt like everything I needed. Like it was the one thing that was missing in my road to recovery. That feeling in itself stood out to me, and I followed it through my mind. Apart from all the staggering sentimental value, there was something about Tapper's gesture that felt so empathetic, so validating, like he was acknowledging that I lost something wonderful, something worth mourning. It was the first thing anyone had given me, or the first thing anyone made at all, that honored your memory.

Then it hit me. The thing that was missing. The thing I would absolutely need if I had any hope of moving on.

I let go of Ralph's hand and burst through the door of Felix's apartment. He had gone back to polishing his medals, but he quite nearly dropped one when he saw the tears on my face.

"Mavy? What--"

I interrupted him, trying to keep up with my rush of clarity. "Felix," I said urgently, "I need your help. There's something I need from you. I know what I need."

He stood, approaching me with concern in his eyes.

"I need a funeral for Turbo," I said firmly. "A real one. It doesn't have to be big. In fact, it'll probably be just the three of us," I glanced back at Ralph, who was bending down once again, "but that'll be fine. It just needs to happen. Please."

I looked at Felix again, and his eyes were full of understanding, sympathy, and love.

"Then we'll do it," he said gently.

"Yeah," I heard Ralph say. "Count me in."

I choked out a single, grateful laugh. "Thank you."

We began planning right away.

It's happening tomorrow.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #fix it felix #make it mavis #tapper #turbo #original character #homesick

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tothetoonandback · 3 years

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idk what the buffy-ship-wars are like on tumblr, but this is from someone who is on imstagram- it gets EXTREMELY aggressive and just like 😟😟😟😟😟what! people were blocking others cause “you don’t like season 6 spuffy???????😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡”

so here’s me being Angry. as far as that goes. I’m using numbers so my brain doesn’t explode here we go

(also, for clarification, i will b passive aggressive and it’ll look like i’m just hating on these ships [which i kind of am—] but i am in NO way tryna put y’all buffy shippers down!!!! if you don’t wanna read then you don’t need 2 :])

1. both bangel and spuffy (we aren’t gonna talk abt biley cause it. no☺️there’s no reason to) had their own faults, and while they DID have pros, their faults were still Visible.

bangel, for one, was just ??? very creepy??? and yes, it has some very cute scenes, but overall it was just a bit odd. and that’s mostly on how buffy, the Vampire Slayer’s, first boyfriend is huge, overly protective, a vampire, and over like 200 years old. yeah yeah “but it doesn’t matter with vampires, cause they look around the same age!!” that’s the thing!!!!! he looked like. 20!!! she was 15/16!!! and for a “girl power” show that’s JUST starting w a mysterious, older, overly protective and extremely strong vampire, that just defeats the purpose. plus, angel was kinda absent, if y’all didn’t realize

spuffy. Good lord. ok spuffy is great (in it’s own way???) i guess but season 6 has Really clouded my senses for them. spike just went “awooga woman” all of a sudden and started being creepy. then he had buffy-bot (Barf) and then “Seeing red”. and for sure, buffy wasn’t any better (she wasn’t as bad, but she was still pretty demeaning), but spike was just a full out creep. (Creep by radiohead plays)). and honestly?? in season 7, he chilled out a bit and honestly i liked them better as just good friends. because YES, they could help each other, because they understood each other. also, their little scenes in the finale made me cry. so

2. buffy was literally MEANT to be a girl empowerment show!!!! yeah, a girl can totally still b independent w a lover/love interest, but the whole Show should not be surrounded by that—

bangel, i understand sorta, cause it led up to Angelus and his arc. i can see that. but when spike turned to buffy in season 5 (i think it was season 5 fjsjfndn) it was. kind of unnecessary- again, i think they would’ve been better off platonic. hell, make them platonic soulmates if you want!!! put that magic, cool fantasy shit on instead of just plain romantic! but it wasn’t necessary for the actual big bad plot, and therefore i don’t think it was COMPLETELY necessary for the general plot

buffy is entirely independent though! without the scoobies and everyone, i believe she would get along swimmingly. minus the intense therapy and extreme mental problems, she could pull off a good sweep of vamps on her own!!! rereading this paragraph put me through the 5 stages of grief!

3. I don’t really have a three. I’m not very good with essays

anyway. THAT’S IT. I’M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG POST I JUDT HAVE MANY THOUGHTS and this might even b incomprehensible and some info might b wrong, but that’s just how the cookie crumbles. Also, major respect to spuffy+bangel shippers who can realize the faults of those ships ilove you /p

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #spike #angel #these bitches need last names to specify their media #also i’m gonna keep apologizing for this LOL dm that i’m just.#also also i’m aroace so that just might be. where these feelings come from ($/&;!!:#moon chit chat #long post

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

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Fate’s Arrow: Chapter One

Today’s entry I actually started before Valentine’s Day, and it was supposed to be for the holiday. But I fell behind on my goal line - then FG week was announced with the exact theme I was using for the entry I decided I would repurpose it for the shipweek instead.

And I still didn’t finish this one.

So I’m cheating a little bit. Unfortunately, for as great as I have done for the week (and I won’t lie, I’m very impressed with myself) a month to do seven stories is VERY demanding for me. I’m just not fast enough nor do I have enough free time to make it happen without my quality dipping. And I want y’all to read a product I’m proud of.

SO, all this to say... that this is the first chapter of this tale. I will readdress it at a future time, but I hope you enjoy this one!

Day 4: Soulmates

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 1.4k

Ao3 Link: Chapter One

Summary: It was said to be the work of Fate: A date etched one’s wrist, in the color of another's eyes, that foretold a destined meeting with one's soulmate.

Qrow took one look at his and decided the person with teal eyes he was meant to encounter on February 14th was more trouble than they were worth. [Modern Soulmate AU]

Qrow was pretty sure when he was born, Fate took one look at him, laughed hysterically, and then, like the conniving mistress She was, etched in the color of his other half’s irises what had to be the most ironic date in the world to find his soulmate:

February, 14th

That’s all he got. A day and an eye color. Nothing more, nothing less. Not even the year – for all he knew, he’d met his soulmate before he could even talk.

He thumbed at his wristband, where below the teal green ink was hidden. Then scoffed at himself when he realized what he was doing.

Soulmates, pah! What good was a soulmate, anyways? He’d seen what it had done to his best friend, how Tai had practically danced on Cloud 9 for five years only to lose Summer and trade in all that joy for Stage 5 depression instead. There was nothing romantic or fulfilling about that. It was just sad. And to think the same could happen to him?

Qrow was pretty sure he had enough problems to fill out the Dignostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders himself, thank you very much.

He reached across the bathroom sink, plucking out his contact lenses from their case and placing them in either eye. He blinked rapidly a few times to get used to the feeling, looking into the now blue orbs staring back at him.

He had no intention of being a pawn of Fate whom was already twittering away over destining them to meet on the so called “Day of Love”.

He set the case aside, gave himself one more appraising look, before heading out the door.

Besides, with his luck, even if he did find them, his soulmate wouldn’t even like him.

Tai was intent on giving him hell for it – just like every year before.

“I just don’t understand why you insist on making yourself unhappy.” He was saying as he slowed the car down for a stop light.

Qrow looked up from the emails he was riffling through (mostly junk about it being the ‘Last day to buy for his one and only!’), to frown towards the blond. “Hey, who says I’m unhappy?”

Tai rolled his own naturally blue eyes at him. “Oh, I don’t know, why don’t we ask Jack Daniels?”

He rolled his eyes right back. “Just because I knock back a few every now and again-”

“Every now and again? Qrow, for awhile, it was almost every night!”

“Yeah, and I got better. What more do you want from me?” He huffed. As the light turned green and they started moving again, he added, “What does this have to do with anything, anyways?”

“Because I don’t want to see you like that again man! It was, scary.” Tai brow had furrowed with stress, a crinkling at the edges of his eyes that made it look like he might cry.

Gods, Qrow hated it that expression. It made his gut twist in unpleasant ways.

So, he looked out the window instead. “And what, finding my soulmate will be the cure to my alcoholism?”

“No, but it would be something positive for you. Which you do need more of in your life.” He replied, taking a right onto Beacon Boulevard.

Leafless trees framed either side of the street. Last night’s snowfall was still heaped heavily into the knots of trunks and today’s sun caused the icicles clinging to the branches to shine brightly. They only had a few houses to go before they pulled up to the curb of their destination – a moderately sized two-story house that sheltered a rather unusual collective within its walls. Oz’s Home Away From Home was a group home for recently orphaned kids as well as teenagers who fell out of unfavorable foster home situations. The facility was meant to provide a safe space for kids to recover from or deal with trauma and grief rather than immediately allow the government social workers to chuck them into the system and forget about their pain.

Having been fosters themselves during a time when the organization was an even more unfavorable mess, Tai and Qrow had both been volunteering for nearly a decade now at Oz’s. They came by every other Saturday, working with the kids there to rehabilitate or counsel them. It was difficult, trying to instill hope into the children when Qrow knew they felt at their lowest. He’d been there right along with them once, and hoped that the man they could see now acted as an example that things did get better. That there was still a future out there for them.

Tai pulled the break and cut the engine, but that did nothing for his motormouth. “Look, all I’m saying is, are you really going to be satisfied letting the opportunity to meet your soulmate pass you by?”

He shrugged as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “There’s plenty of people who don’t have a date on their wrist and they seem to make it through life just fine. I don’t see why I’d be any different.” He threw open the door, adding as he got out. “Just ‘cause I have one doesn’t mean I need them.”

“It’s not-”

He slammed the door closed before he had to hear anymore.

He enjoyed the blissful silence for all of two seconds, when Tai got out from the other side, “You bast-”

This time he was saved by the front door flying open. “Oscar-!” He heard Oz yelling from inside.

But it did nothing to pause the freckled-faced boy from running down the steps of the stoop, calling brightly, “Mr. Qroooow!”

Qrow grinned, swooping up the little five-year-old in his arms and lifting him high just like he liked. “Hey you lil’ rascal.”

He giggled holding his arms out. “I’m the crow now.”

“That you are.” He laughed. As he peered past the boy, he could see Ozpin making his way over.

It was easy to tell from his unusually rumpled appearance that it had probably been a hard morning for the caretaker. “Sorry, he got away from me.”

“No need to be sorry, I can’t think of a more wonderful greeting.” Tai said as he made his way around the car. He held out his hands, letting Qrow deposit Oscar into them.

“Mr. Long!” The boy immediately started fiddling with the fringed ends of Tai’s yellow scarf. “Did you bring gifts?”

The blond made a show of thinking really hard. “Hmmmm, I can’t recall. Maybe we need to check the trunk and see?”

“Need help carrying anything?”

The new voice was unexpected and had Qrow looking towards the door, eyebrows rising at the man coming down the steps. He remembered Ozpin mentioning a new volunteer would be joining them today – a friend of a friend, was what he had said. But he hadn’t mentioned more than that. Like, perhaps, the slightly more interesting fact that he was from the military.

From head to toe, the new fellow was decked out in the white uniform of a navy officer, even the circular, wire-frame sunglasses. The only thing he didn’t have was the low-brimmed cap. Probably didn’t want to contain that slightly ridiculous updo he had, which reminded Qrow of a crest of feathers certain birds had. Something glinted on his chest, catching his eye, and he tried to make out what it was.

“Any help would be appreciated!” Tai called from where he was trying to juggle Oscar and get the trunk open. The new guy hurried over to relinquish him of the boy which turned out to be a bit more difficult when he refused to let go of Tai’s scarf.

Oz joined in the effort, helping to untangle them, and once he had a good hold of Oscar, the soldier stepped back to stand beside Qrow instead.

It gave him a chance to get a better look at the medallion on the collar of his shirt. He snorted as he realized it was a brooch in the shape of a four-leaf clover. “Hey shamrock, I think you decorated for the wrong holiday.”

“Huh? Oh, you mean this?” He flicked one edge as he adjusted his grip on Oscar. “Nah this is just an old keepsake of mine.”

“Mr. Bee? Can I wear your glasses again?” The little boy asked, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Sure kid.” He lowered his head so he could reach up and take them.

Qrow snorted again. “Bee?”

“Ebi, actually. Clover Ebi.” The other man corrected, looking up at him with a grin that was almost blinding.

But only almost – and almost just wasn’t enough.

As he stared into the other’s teal green eyes, Qrow swore the sudden rushing in his ears was the sound of Fate pouring Herself a glass of well-deserved wine.

Oh fuck.

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #fairgameweek2020 #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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transmascfrankiero · 4 years

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um thoughts on hamlet?

i’m sobbing thank you and i’m sorry in advance because this is going to be LONG

so my hottest take on hamlet (i have many, many hot takes on this play) is that ophelia’s suicide was a hoax, and that gertrude, the queen, straight up murdered ophelia instead. why do i believe this? many reasons:

1. throughout the play, gertrude and ophelia have almost no relationship in terms of interaction between them. many, if not most, stagings of the play place ophelia and gertrude on opposite sides of the stage when a scene has both of them in it, and gertrude’s dialogue toward and about ophelia heavily suggests that she doesn’t really care for ophelia at all. at best, she tolerates ophelia, and at worst, she treats ophelia like an interloper in her court, a flighty girl who drives her son to distraction and has as much to offer to gertrude as her father. (gertrude’s famous line, “more matter with less art,” is an annoyed outburst directed at ophelia’s father polonius, whom gertrude outwardly loathes.) in ophelia’s last scene before her death, she appears to have lost her mind to grief in the wake of her father’s murder, and wanders through a royal meeting handing out flowers and singing. however, she gives gertrude fennel and columbines, which represent adultery in flower language, and TELLS GERTRUDE AS MUCH, TO HER FACE. in case you’re unfamiliar with hamlet, one of the big conflicts in the play is that gertrude, hamlet’s mother the queen, married claudius, the king’s brother, approximately thirty seconds after the king died and there’s a rumor floating around court that they were hooking up LONG before hamlet senior fell victim to the classic poison-in-the-ear trick. (later it’s confirmed that claudius himself was the one who murdered the king. whoops!) so ophelia accusing the queen of adultery is of course a HUGE slap in the face, and ophelia only gets away with it because ~~~she’s mad with grieeeeef sob cry~~~ which is GENIUS and i have more theories about that particular action on ophelia’s but that’s another post for another day.

2. ophelia dies offstage. she is never seen or heard from again until her funeral in act V. the only reason we find out about ophelia’s death - and in fact, the only way we know how she died - is because gertrude tells us about it. yes, gertrude, weirdly enough! gertrude gives a monologue which describes in excruciating detail exactly how ophelia died, right down to the kind of plants that were getting caught in her dress as she drowned and what songs she sang as she slipped into her watery grave. the sort of details you would only expect a person who was there to witness the death could provide. sketchy, right? what’s even sketchier is that gertrude makes no mention of having heard this from someone else. she’s not like, “oh, this is the hot village goss, take a sip babes,” she doesn’t offer any explanation at all as to how this information got to her. she just dives straight into her ultra explicit account of the drowning. SUPER weird! and furthermore, why is gertrude of all people the one giving us this information when there is clearly no love lost in their relationship? couldn’t this have come from one of those rando shakespeare characters who show up for one scene, deliver a message, and then vanish again? well, sure, but it didn’t. it came from gertrude. and that was intentional on shakespeare’s part - he wants you to be suspicious of this information, beCAUSE...

3. the play itself tells us that the conditions of ophelia’s death are VERY SUS. the very next scene after gertrude’s macabre monologue is act V scene I, wherein two gravediggers are preparing ophelia’s grave for her burial and discussing between themselves why they’re preparing for a christian burial if she killed herself. (in shakespeare’s time, suicide was a sin, and people who committed suicide weren’t given proper burials because of it.) the dialogue goes like this:

GRAVEDIGGER 1: Is she to be buried in Christian burial when she willfully seeks her own salvation? (translation: Why is she getting a proper burial if she killed herself?) GRAVEDIGGER 2: I tell thee she is. Therefore make her grave straight. The crowner hath sat on her and finds it Christian burial. (After examining her, the coroner said she should get a proper burial.) GRAVEDIGGER 1: How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defense? (So what, she drowned in self-defense?) GRAVEDIGGER 2: Why, ‘tis found so. (That’s what they said she did.)

the text here indicates loud and clear that something about ophelia’s death is complicated, enough that there’s DOUBT about it being a suicide. and what’s more, there’s so much doubt that her death was a suicide, she gets to be buried for real in the eyes of God. but the text does not explicitly state what, exactly, is so weird about ophelia’s death. it just wants you to know that the whens and wherefores about it are strange, and that characters who are not emotionally involved believe it’s strange, too. it doesn’t stop there, either! the priest who’s going to perform the funeral ceremony says, in as many words, to the royal family, “Her death was doubtful.” interesting!

4. gertrude has this TOTAL crocodile tears thing going on at ophelia’s funeral. after spending the entire play openly disdaining ophelia as a silly little airhead, here’s what she has to say at her grave:

GERTRUDE: Sweets to the sweet. Farewell! I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet’s wife. I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, and not have strewed thy grave. (I thought I’d be covering your wedding bed in flowers, not your grave.)

kind of a weird, sudden change of heart for her to have about ophelia, right? you could argue that it’s grief-driven, that people gain new perspective after someone dies and maybe she’s just now realizing that ophelia was really a great person all along. but given just how few fucks she gave about ophelia when she was alive, it doesn’t make sense for her to be sad after ophelia’s death, unless she’s being performative about her grief. and yeah, she’s the queen, people are paying attention to how she reacts to shit and therefore on some level everything she does is performative, but it’s in particular how she relates her grief back to ophelia being her son’s girlfriend that gives me pause, beCAUSE...

5. there is, of course, that whole Oedipal reading of hamlet, where the reason hamlet and gertrude’s relationship is fifty shades of fucked up is because they’re sexually attracted to one another. while this reading of hamlet is mostly a freudian analysis that is treated as a sort of embarrassing joke nowadays by scholars and theatre folks alike, when you read the scenes between hamlet and gertrude - in particular the famous closet scene, from which the bulk of this analysis derives - you DEFINITELY get the sense that this relationship is weird and toxic for reasons that have nothing to do with the fact that gertrude married hamlet’s uncle. gertrude is really, really, really wrapped up in her son. but not in a loving, maternal sort of way - instead, it comes across as a narcissistic parent desperate to understand why their child has not turned out exactly the way the parent wanted them to be. gertrude continually accuses hamlet of acting out of pocket specifically to hurt her, and does not consider any other motivation for his actions. when he acts out of turn in court, it embarrasses her. his strange behavior reflects poorly on her as a mother and as the queen, and she doesn’t like it. she has a nervous breakdown over it in the closet scene, where she basically begs hamlet to be normal for her sake.

now with all of this in mind...

i believe gertrude, having gotten fed up with her son acting Weird and making her look bad all the time, decides that in order to exert SOME means of control over the situation, is going to take it upon herself to eliminate anything that could be the cause of his bad behavior. and the most obvious cause, at least to her, is ophelia. why would gertrude believe this? well, in act one, polonius encourages ophelia to break up with hamlet, because he’s worried hamlet’s gonna steal his daughter’s virginity (which, gross, but whatever, we’re not here to talk about that today). because ophelia’s an obedient daughter, she does so. then, in act two, ophelia runs to tell her father polonius about an encounter she had with hamlet in her bedroom, where he did a bunch of weird creepy shit and then left her a letter that expressed how desperately in love with her he was. polonius decides that hamlet’s gone nuts because ophelia dumped him, and the two of them tell the king and queen about their theory. claudius asks gertrude if she thinks the theory holds water, and gertrude responds that it might. later on, in act three scene one (i.e. “to be or not to be”), this theory is apparently confirmed - at least to polonius and gertrude - by the way hamlet treats ophelia.

so, the very first theory posited to gertrude about why her son’s acting weird is that it’s because of ophelia. and we’ve already established that a) gertrude doesn’t like ophelia, and b) gertrude is a narcissist. she’s desperate to make hamlet stop his bad behavior and therefore stop making her look bad. the worse hamlet’s behavior gets, the worse gertrude’s desperation gets to stop it. and everyone else in this play solves their problems with murder, so it tracks that gertrude would solve her problem with murder, too!

gertrude killed ophelia hoping that it would make her son would go back to normal. (and, if for some reason you like the Oedipal reading of hamlet, it could be argued that she was also jealous of ophelia. but i don’t really love the Oedipal reading, so i’m choosing to ignore this argument.) the fact that ophelia was apparently insane at the time just made it easier for her to make up the suicide alibi. that’s why she knows so much about the circumstances surrounding ophelia’s death - because she was THERE and she CAUSED IT. that’s why shakespeare has gertrude delivering the news of her death. that’s why the play tells us, repeatedly, that the circumstances of ophelia’s death are suspicious. because ophelia didn’t drown herself. gertrude totally straight up drowned her!

thanks for coming to my TED talk everyone

#hamlet #this is a full on ESSAY #i even cited the text

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escapingpost · 5 years

Text

Five Things I Know About Cho Seungyoun

1.) Text messaging is an art form. An art form he knows nothing about.

You were at Seungyoun’s house, a place that you knew too well. You were sprawled on his living room’s couch and he was on the floor praying to his phone. You peeked at him once in awhile and you could have sworn you saw the five stages of grief in all those times you looked at him. You click your tongue at him.

“What? What is it? Is there something wrong?” Seungyoun looked at you with a matter-of-fact expression. He held his hand out as if he were asking for you to point out all his flaws.

Which was exactly what you were going to do.

“You need to stop sending her multiple text messages. You’re scaring the poor girl.” You put down the book in your hands.

“Oh? What does your young adult fiction book say about text messaging?” He rolls his eyes.

You scoff at him. Maybe he needed someone to tell him that being desperate was not a personality trait. “Seungyoun, she’s not interested.”

He takes a deep breath and holds his chest, “You know? Your words hurt.”

You throw him a peace sign, “Only true friends.”

An alert sound comes from his phone and the both of you exchange looks.

Seungyoun opens the text message.

You wait for his reaction which came as a shriek.

“She said sure!” He shines the phone’s screen in front of your face.

“I can’t see. Its too bright.” You swat his phone out of your face and you cross your arms.

Seungyoun recites the reply from his future date, “Sure, Seungyoun. I’ll let you know.”

You rub your temples. So much for future date. “Hey, lets go to that new jazz bar in Itaewon.”

“Can’t I need my schedule as open as possible. I don’t know when she’ll get back to me.” Seungyoun gets up from the floor and shoos your leg off his couch. He sits down on the couch and you place your legs on his lap.

“Never, Seungyoun. She’s never going to get back to you. I’m sorry.” You pat him on the head.

Seungyoun groans and drops his phone. He covers his eyes with his arm.

Seungyoun always replied back to text messages in less than a minute. He wore his heart on his sleeve and did not play any of the push and pull dating games.

If you two weren’t best friends, he would’ve been a perfect partner. The last thing you wanted was someone complicated.

Seungyoun was as simple as pie.

“So, Itaewon?”

Seungyoun nodded, “Lets invite Hangyul too.”

2.) He only does soju. He had a strict no vodka/whiskey/rum/tequila policy “just because”

What was suppose to happen was an innocent outing to a bar in Itaewon.

What actually happened was Hangyul decided that jazz was not his thing and opted for clubbing instead. Of course, dumb and dumber stick together so you become the third member, the idiot who followed.

The three of you stuck together for a good ten minutes until the crowds finally separated you and Hangyul from Seungyoun.

Hangyul yells your name to counter the loud bass of the music. You move closer to Hangyul in an attempt to hear him.

“Do you want to get a drink?” Hangyul points to the bar where less people crowded.

You nod and Hangyul grabs your wrist with a smile, “Follow me.” he mouths.

Finally out of the sea of people dancing, Hangyul buys you a drink. He considered it as an apology for changing plans so last minute.

You look around for the “dumber” member.

Hangyul moves closer to your ear, “Seungyoun went to the DJ to request a song.

You give Hangyul a side glare. He wasn’t suppose to invade your mind like that.

Hangyul chuckles and he receives a drink from the barista. He offers it to you.

The thing with alcohol was you always drank it with Seungyoun ever since the two of you entered college. This was probably the second time you weren’t drinking with him.

But, you take the drink anyway because you already made the mistake of following the two of them into a club. You sniff the drink. ‘Yup, smells like strong alcohol.’ you think.

Hangyul easily finishes his drink and you tilt your head to the side letting out a defeated laugh.

He has a small proud smirk and gives you a head nod to signal you to drink.

You give it one more sniff before letting the acidic liquid hit your throat.

Hangyul nods his head in approval and lightly pats you on the head. You were sure it meant, ‘Good job, you're able to drink something else other than soju.’

You playfully smack his shoulder and begin to take another sip when a hand appears from the bottom of the cup to pull it away from you. You quickly look in the direction of the hand and see Seungyoun, “Hey!” You yell.

Seungyoun looks at Hangyul’s direction and snaps back to you. He downs the rest of the drink as your mouth gapes open in surprise.

“That was mine!” You yell over the music.

3.) As far as he’s concerned, sleep is optional.

Hangyul scratches his ear looking at the scene unfold in front of him.

Seungyoun, on the other hand, is between being present in the moment and “I don’t know who that is. I came with the handsome guy."

“I just don’t need to deal with children.” You leaned on the metal pole like it was the only thing keeping you standing. “But, why is my best friend a big child?” You look down at your fingers seemingly counting a math equation.

“Look, it was just one drink. Could’ve ended with one drink. You just had to take it away from her.” Hangyul sighs deeply.

Seungyoun had nothing to retort. Hangyul was one hundred percent right. Maybe if he did not take that first drink, she would not have to prove a point and have five more glasses of alcohol.

Both guys look back at you and click their tongues in unison.

It took exactly two hours to drop you off back home. That was with Hangyul tagging along and helping. Seungyoun was your pack mule because he decided that carrying you was faster. Hangyul was the designated person to apologize for the ruckus you were creating.

You did not remember mostly everything the next day and you were more than glad to forget the night, for the most part.

However, you did remember something about Seungyoun only drinking soju because he was a child or something like that.

Also, you ended up back at Seungyoun’s small studio because you had to escape a murder that was about to take place. Who knew being dropped off by two healthy boys in their twenties, completely wasted, and at two in the morning was such a criminal offense?

“You, get out of here.” Seungyoun answered the door with disheveled hair and last night’s eyeliner that you had forced him to wear.

You scoff at his poor attempt at being serious and slip through the door frame.

Seungyoun closes the door behind him and blows his bangs out of his face, “Do you know how much trust I lost from your mother?”

You take a seat on his couch and shrug, “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure your her favorite child out of the both of us.”

He says your full name in a low-tone, “This is serious!”

“Cho Seungyoun.” You copy his tone. “When are we going clubbing again?” You change your tone into a cheerful one. Too cheerful to be serious.

“I am so great to see you completely rested.” Seungyoun answers back with his own sarcasm and a lopsided smile.

It was then you realized Seungyoun’s eyes are slightly red on the rim. You look around his small studio and papers are scrapped all over the place, “Did you not sleep?” You get up to get a closer look and observe his face.

Seungyoun stares back at you and you hear his light breathing.

He slowly shakes his head side to side, “What am I going to do with you?”

4.) He does, in fact, need sleep.

Beep. Beep.

You peek from your phone, ‘Oh, its his phone.’ You look back at your phone, continuing what you were doing. To be honest, the silence was killing you. Yes, thee Cho Seungyoun was giving you the silent treatment. He had his headphones on, writing his "dumb” rap lyrics. Usually, he would have filled the room with beats that he was working on. Today, you were exiled from his music as punishment.

A few minutes later, you hear multiple text message beeps from his phone.

Annoyed, you avert your attention to him. “Can you silence your phone? I get it, you’re not talking to me, but someone else.” You snap at him.

Seungyoun looks at you and silences his phone, “There.”

You sit up on his couch, “What? What is it? Is there something wrong?”

Oh, how the tides have turned.

Seungyoun leisurely sits on his chair as his fingers tap on the arm rests. He has his chin up, looking down at you.

“010.″ He starts.

You squint at him as he starts to say random numbers, “What the hell, Seungyoun?”

“Hangyul’s phone number.” Seungyoun positions his hands so that all of his fingers aligned as if he was planning something.

You hold up your hand in confusion, “Okay, so?”

“You don’t want it?” His sentences are short and concise.

“Why would I want Hangyul’s” your words get quieter and taper off into silence.

“Well?” Seungyoun raises an eyebrow at you.

You think for awhile, “I don’t want his number through you.”

Seungyoun presses his lips in a thin line, “Interesting.”

“Tell him to come get my number himself.” you add.

Seungyoun’s mouth slowly opens in awe.

The tides change once more and everything was back to how it was suppose to be.

You let out a hearty laugh as Seungyoun grabs the nearest pillow to cover your face with.

Something about the heat in his small studio with no air conditioner had the two of you sleepy after a good few minutes of fighting (read: pillow fighting).

It was merely a cause of the heat.

Since there was only one pillow, you had no choice, but to fall asleep on his arm while he selfishly took the one pillow.

The two of you wake up at different times, but both of you continue to fall asleep even after that fact.

That damn weather.

5.) He has a problem.

There was definitely nothing more than friendship. Teasing each other, getting into petty fights, the childish banter, and all that happened every time you were with him. It definitely was not a feeling of love.

When Seungyoun hung out with his friends, it was the same question over and over again.

Are you guys dating yet?

The answer was the same every time. It became a default.

“Bull. Shit.”

Seungwoo reaches over to smack Dongpyo on the side of his head, “Watch your language.”

“But, hyung. They stick to each other like their life depends on it.” Dongpyo says as he massages the side of his head.

“That’s because, if they don’t, they might actually start missing each other. That would cancel all the denial they have.” Wooseok answers.

Dongpyo looks up trying his hardest to understand the situation.

Seungwoo lightly touchs Dongpyo’s hand, “Don’t try to understand it. None of us get it either.”

“Listen. I know for a fact that I can put all your suspicions to rest.” Seungyoun leans in.

“Oh yeah? Let me hear it. I’m ready for a good laugh.” Yohan scoffs.

Seungyoun ignores Yohan’s remark, “I gave her Hangyul’s number.” Seungyoun claps, “Boom.”

Seungwoo knits his eyebrows together and Dongpyo curses again, but he lets it go because it was actually called for.

“That’s not evidence. It’s just plain stupidity on your part.” Wooseok put his palms to his forehead.

Yohan looks at Seungyoun with pity in his eyes, “It wasn’t even funny.”

Seungyoun looks clearly offend at all of their remarks, “Damn it, guys.”

“I’m going to explain this to you slowly because you’re one of my precious juniors.” Seungwoo says softly.

Seungyoun has a sour look on his face, but continues to listen.

“You gave her Hangyul’s phone number so they could get to know each other, eventually date because, lets face it, Hangyul is a great guy.” He leaves out the part where Hangyul was not completely oblivious to his own emotions, unlike someone.

“And then, after they date, they’ll become official. Because Hangyul is the perfect package.” Wooseok makes sure to say his last sentence a little louder for the people in the back.

“Meaning you can see bye-bye to sleeping next to your “best friend” or getting into one of your fake fights because you guys have weird kinks like that.” Yohan continues.

“Hyung, I can take most of your bullcrap, but introducing her to Hangyul-hyung is really not it.” Dongpyo says.

Seungyoun looks around the table and slowly nods. Disappointed, he looks down at his lap.

The four boys exchange looks.

Yohan pats him on the back, “Its okay. Lets just see what happens.”

“I guess the only thing you can do is just do better than him.” Wooseok suggests. “I mean, you can sing, dance, and produce. You’re a great guy too, Seungyoun.”

Seungyoun looks up in realization.

That was it.

“So if I want to keep our friendship, I need to get her away from any type of relationship with any guy.”

“Huh?” Dongpyo widens his eyes.

“Relationships will only end in heartbreak, so I just have to stop her from seeing anyone, ever.”

“No. No. No.” Seungwoo repeated multiple times.

His problem was Lee Hangyul.

+1.) He knows too much about you.

“Hey, can you help me with my zipper?”

But he was going to carry that to his grave.

Sequel

#x1 scenarios #cho seungyoun #seungyoun imagines #hangyul #seungyoun scenarios #lee hangyul #hangyul scenarios #x1 #x1 fanfic #hangyul imagines

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 1: Chapter 10

The AMAs: November 2013

Word count: 3k

SkyFire 1 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

It was a sunny day in late October and Rori was on her way home from classes at Columbia. Since she had no reason to be in a hurry, she had opted to walk home through Central Park, which would take about an hour instead of the 20 minute subway ride she usually took to reach Avengers Tower. She had her sunglasses on, headphones in and music blasting as she strolled through the park. As she walked, her music cut out to be replaced by her ring tone, and instead of pulling her phone from her pocket, she raised her hand glancing at the screen of her StarkWatch. Her managers face displayed on the small device and she quickly answered the call.

“Hey Mark,” she greeted, “What’s up?”

“I’ve figured out the perfect way to debut your first solo single,” the older man said in lieu of a greeting.

“I thought I’d just post a video on my channel?” Rori replied, hitching her bag further up her shoulder as she continued to walk through the park.

“And I thought I explained that we need to go bigger than a YouTube video for your first single,” he said, his tone exasperated.

“You did,” Rori sighed. “So, what am I doing instead?”

“You’re going to be performing at the AMAs next month.” “I’m what?” She gasped, lurching to a halt in the middle of the footpath in shock. “Holy Shit Mark!”

“I know!” Mark laughed, “How incredible is this?”

“It’s big,” Rori said. “It’s really big. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Are you crazy? This is going to be incredible for your profile.”

“I don’t think my profile really needs any more of a boost at this point. Everyone and their dog seems to know who I am.” As if summoned by her words, Rori noticed a group of girls looking her way and attempting to take photos of her on their phones.

“But after the AMAs they’ll know you as Aurora Stark; Solo Artist, instead of Aurora Stark; Daughter of Tony Stark,” Mark explained. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course, I trust you Mark,” Rori promised, beginning to walk again, pressing her thumb firmly into the palm of her other hand nervously. “You wouldn’t be my manager if I didn’t trust you but I’m nervous. I’ve never performed without the guys and millions of people watch the AMAs. What if I screw up?”

“You won’t kid. The song is incredible and so are you. You’re going to kill this.”

“I hope you’re right,” she mumbled.

xXx

Shortly before she was due to step out on stage, Aurora was sitting in the hallway, hugging her knees to her chest, while resting her forehead against them. Her breathing was rapid, and she knew that if she unclenched her arms from their grip around her legs then her hands would be trembling uncontrollably.

“Aurora Stark, you’re on in 10,” a voice shouted and Rori felt her heartbeat accelerate in response. She was so caught up in her panic that at first, she was unaware that someone had sat down next to her on the floor.

“You alright love?” he asked.

“Just trying not to throw up on this ridiculously expensive gown,” Rori replied, not lifting her head.

“First performance?” he asked.

“First as a solo artist,” she replied, finally feeling her breathing begin to steady. The conversation with this stranger successfully snapping her out of her thought spiral and helping her to collect herself.

She took another deep breath before lifting her head and offering a small smile to her rescuer. Her smile froze on her face when she caught sight of the man next to her. “Hi, I’m Harry.”

“Aurora,” she whispered.

“Aurora Stark, right?” he asked. “I was pretty sure it was you, but it was hard to tell with your face buried in your dress.”

She nodded, thankful that her brain was still to busy freaking out about going on stage that it had no space left to freak out about Harry Styles sitting next to her and chatting to her like he wasn’t Harry Styles.

“I’m a big fan,” Harry added. “Love your channel and the song you wrote for your dad’s wedding was fantastic.”

“Thank you,” Aurora said. “Big fan of yours too.”

Harry blushed in response, waving a hand in front of him as if to physically brush off the compliment.

“I caught your performance earlier,” Rori said somewhat shyly. “You were great. I love Story of My Life.”

“Thanks love,” Harry replied, smiling warmly at her, before abruptly standing and offering his hand out to pull her to her feet. “Better get you ready to go,” he said as a voice called out, interrupting their conversation.

“Aurora Stark, 5 minutes.”

Rori ran her hands over the skirt of her golden floor-length gown, ensuring that she had not creased it while she had been curled up on the floor. Harry reached forward, pushing a loose strand of hair back into place.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I sure hope so,” she answered. She was gripping her hands together nervously, attempting to stop their shaking. “Got any advice for me?”

He surprised her by asking his own question instead of answering. “What’s your opening line?”

“Weatherman said it’s gonna snow,” she replied almost automatically.

Harry smiled widely. “Just remember that and you’ll be fine,” he promised.

She smiled back in response, before a tech arrived by her side and ushered her towards side of stage and she prepared to step out. Right before she stepped out, she looked back over her shoulder to find him still standing there watching her, a smile lit up his face and he gave her a confident thumbs up.

The stage was dark as she stepped out to stand before the microphone stand, a cellist and violinist sitting behind her over each shoulder, the final member of her backing band sat at a beautiful grand piano off to the right of stage. The lights lifted as the opening notes rang out and Aurora allowed herself a brief moment to look out across the crowd before she began the opening line. Harry’s advice proved to be correct; as soon as she made it through that first line the rest of the song poured out of her.

Weatherman said it's gonna snow By now I should be used to the cold Mid-February shouldn't be so scary It was only December I still remember The presents, the tree, you and me

But you went away How dare you? I miss you They say I'll be OK But I'm not going to ever get over you

She had spent the last 3 years writing, rewriting, practicing and perfecting this song and she knew it better than any other song she had ever performed before. It was the first song she had ever written, the one she had kept to herself for so long. It was so personal that it was only years after she had first composed the chorus that she had shared it with Mark, confessing that she had never even let the band hear it. It was this song that had convinced Mark, and in turn Aurora herself, that she should pursue a solo career. Aurora thought of her mother as she sang of her grief, the raw emotion evident to everyone listening, either in the audience in front of her or watching at home.

Living alone here in this place I think of you, and I'm not afraid Your favourite records make me feel better Cause you sing along with every song I know you didn't mean to give them to me

But you went away How dare you? I miss you They say I'll be OK But I'm not going to ever get over you

It really sinks in you know When I see it in stone

She took a deep breath, steeling herself emotionally for the final chorus. She dropped her voice, softly singing the next few lines before throwing her arms out wide and closing her eyes as she belted out the second to last line of the song.

Cause you went away How dare you? I miss you They say I'll be OK But I'm not going to ever get over you Ever get over you

She looked towards the ceiling as she uttered the final line, the tears she had felt building throughout the performances finally falling down her checks as the song came to a close and she was met by a loud applause from the hundreds of guests.

She made her way off the stage, wiping away her tears, and finding herself not as surprised as she should have been that Harry was standing almost exactly where she had left him.

“Told you, you’d be great,” he smiled as she approached him.

“Thank you,” Aurora replied, her matching smile lighting up her face.

“Now I’ve got to head back to my seat before the lads think I’ve done a runner, but please tell me you’ll be at the after party?”

“I wasn’t really planning on it,” Rori admitted. “I’m not 21 so I can’t really get in most places.”

“Neither am I love,” Harry said with a smirk, “and besides, they don’t really card you at these types of things. Especially not after you just smashed that song. I’d love a chance to chat with you. Please come?”

“OK,” Rori blushed, “I’ll be there.”

Harry’s smile grew bigger somehow in response, before leaving to find the rest of his band in the crowd and Aurora went in search of her dads.

She was ushered to her seat during the next commercial break and both Steve and Tony pulled her into crushing hugs, with matching grins of pride stretching across their faces.

“You were so incredible up there kid,” Tony said, pulling away from the hug as Rori settled into her seat. They enjoyed the remainder of the awards show and as they stood to leave at the end, Rori turned to face the two men.

“I got invited to the after party,” she told them, “and I promise I won’t drink, and I’ll be back to the hotel by a reasonable time.”

Steve laughed as she rushed through her promise. “Are you sure you’re her biological father Tony?” he joked.

“Sometimes I wonder,” Tony laughed in response. “Go have fun kiddo. You’ve earned it.”

Aurora looked between both of them in confusion. “You two are the weirdest parents ever,” she declared, to which they both just shrugged with another laugh.

xXx

Harry had been right that no one was carding the guests at the afterparty and Aurora easily glided into the venue, ordering a coke at the bar before finding a stool by a table over against the wall. She looked out across the dancefloor and the steadily growing crowd, sipping on her drink and starting to question why she had come. She was not a huge fan of parties, never having been the type to get invited to them in high school and although she had attended a couple of events at the Columbia sorority houses since classes had begun two months earlier, she hadn’t really enjoyed them. She didn’t drink and had never really been great at making friends easily even before she had to worry that people were only being friendly because of her parents. Before she could convince herself that it had been a mistake coming out, she spotted the One Direction boys arrive. She stayed on her stool for another 20 or so minutes before Harry spotted her through the crowd and made his way over to her side.

“You came!” he yelled, his trademark smile lighting up his face, forcing a matching grin across Rori’s

“I did,” she agreed, blushing as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“I’m glad. I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk,” he said, pulling up another stool next to hers. They chatted for almost an hour about anything and everything before the conversation returned to the awards ceremony earlier in the evening.

“I think in all the craziness I forgot to congratulate you,” Rori said. “Must feel pretty good to have won tonight.”

“Thank you, love,” Harry replied. “I think we all feel really grateful, you know, but I should be the one congratulating you. I mean it’s not often someone debuts their solo career on national tv.”

“It was my managers idea,” Rori said. “I just wanted to post a music video on my YouTube channel, but he said we needed to go all out.”

“Well then your manager is a genius. That song was incredible, and it deserved something big. Do you mind if I ask the story behind it?”

“I don’t know, it’s a long story I guess,” Rori said with a shrug.

“Well we’ve got all night,” Harry replied.

“And we’re going nowhere,” Rori mumbled, blushing as soon as the words left her mouth. Harry laughed loudly, clasping a hand to his chest as he lent backwards on his stool and for a brief moment, she worried that he would fall.

“You weren’t kidding about being a fan,” he finally said once his laughter had died down.

“Oh god,” Rori moaned, covering her face with her hands, her cheeks blazing with shame. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, love.” Harry reached forward pulling her hand from her face, not letting go as their joined hands rested in her lap. “I’m flattered.”

“In my defence,” she laughed. “I was a 15 year old British girl whose mum was obsessed with the X Factor, so I never really had a choice about becoming a fan. It was predetermined.”

“Well then I won’t hold it against you,” he promised. “At least tell me I was your favourite though.” The blush returned to her face in full force causing him to break into another tear-inducing bought of laughter. “Damn,” he sighed. “Who was it then?”

“I think I’d like to plead the fifth your honour,” she replied. “But if it makes you feel better, you were my mum’s favourite. She used to say you seemed like you’d be a wonderfully polite young man.”

“Well thank god someone in your family has taste,” he joked, causing Rori to slap his arm. “But we got distracted,” he added, “you were going to tell me about your song.”

“I started writing it like 3 years ago,” Rori explained. “Not long after my mum died, just the chorus at first and then over the years the verses have fallen into place and then I’ve been sitting on it for about a year. Nobody had ever heard it until I showed my manager a few months ago.”

“Why’d you never share it with your band or family or anyone?” Harry asked, leaning forward to grasp her hand once again.

“It was so personal,” Rori admitted. “I knew I could never let anyone else sing it and before Dad’s wedding I’d never sung any of my original songs myself. I’d only ever done covers and I think I was just a bit scared of it. But then once I decided to sing, I’ll Have You at the wedding and we decided to end the band, Mark and I started talking about what was next for me and I played it and a couple of other songs for him. The second he heard it he was so sure it had to be my debut and I trust his opinion, so I just had to go for it.”

“And you smashed it,” Harry said, squeezing her hand gently in his. “It really was incredible. The emotion and the power of that was just something else. I’m sure your mum would be really proud.”

“I’m just so glad I didn’t burst out sobbing halfway through,” Rori admitted, “Although I was crying by the end.”

Harry was interrupted from replying when Louis appeared at his shoulder, a pint in hand. “Oi Hazza!” he cheered loudly. “What are you doing hiding over here? You’re missing the party.”

“I’m talking to Aurora, Lou,” Harry explained, drawing his friend’s attention to the girl sitting next to him.

“Oh,” Louis replied. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” Rori echoed, “It’s nice to meet you Louis.”

“Oh, you too,” the shorter man replied. “Harry hasn’t shut up since he met you backstage earlier. He’s had a massive crush on you for ages.”

It was Harry’s turn to blush as Aurora burst out laughing. “Hey Lou, can you do me a favour and fuck off please?” Harry asked. Louis joined Aurora in her laughter, stumbling a little in his drunken state as he stepped forward to place his hand on her shoulder.

“Nah, but in all seriousness, he’s a great bloke,” Louis told her and before she could reply he was quickly distracted by someone passing by and he walked away without another word. Aurora was a little shocked and stared off after Louis as he disappeared into the crowd.

“I guess it’s my turn to be embarrassed now?” Harry asked timidly, pulling her attention back to him.

“Don’t be. I’m flattered,” she replied, echoing his previous statement and they slipped back into the easy conversation that had occupied the last hour or so.

Much later in the evening Aurora caught sight of the time, noting that it was well after midnight, although the party showed no signs of winding down. “It’s getting late,” she pointed out. “I should probably be heading back to my hotel before my parents start to worry.”

Harry’s face dropped a little in response to her words before quickly schooling his features. “Yeah, of course,” he replied. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“Do you maybe want to swap numbers?” Rori asked somewhat shyly, watching a genuine smile appear once again on Harry’s face as he pulled out his phone without hesitation. They swapped numbers and then Harry once again kissed her cheek before she headed towards the exit, already dialling Happy to come pick her up.

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark

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endlessdream7 · 4 years

Text

Kill That Man

Chapter 63 The Ambush of Wang Yijie

After painting the charm paper she bought, Yu Qing Yao came out and bought more charm paper, then closed the door to paint more charms.

After five days had passed, she has saved more than 600 second-level charms.

As soon as Yu Qing Yao came out, she went straight to the Royal Treasure Pavilion in the city.

She bought a white dress with a lotus pattern and a turquoise dress with an orchid pattern. She can’t wear one all year around, right?

The two magic skirts were both woven from spirit silkworms, and cost a total of seventy second-grade charms, or seven thousand dao dollars.

In fact, Yu Qing Yao herself knows how to refine weaponry, but she just doesn’t have the materials, nor the drawings, nor has she tried it herself.

Then, she bought a superb magic weapon, Purple Cloud Ruyi. This Ruyi is made of purple millennium lightning wood, and it is extremely helpful for casting lightning spells. Three Heavenly Lightning spells are stored at each end of the Purple Cloud Ruyi. The power is comparable to the spells of the Jindan realm.

This magic weapon was much more expensive, and it took Yu Qing Yao three hundred second grade charms to buy it.

She bought the book "The Royal Demon Ban" with 100 second level charms, and 120 second level charms for the "Five Elements of Thunder" book.

The Royal Demon Ban features a spell that can ban a Nascent Soul Demon King, but of course, first you have to capture the Demon King and beat him half to death before you can have a chance to cast this spell.

After learning it, Yu Qing Yao can only ban Foundation realm demons.

The "Five Elements of Thunder", is about the method of practicing the five elements of thunder. This type of thunder method is very powerful, ten times more powerful than ordinary thunder, and the difficulty of practicing is dozens of times greater. The first is that it is difficult to find the materials for practicing it. You have to find treasures with lightning properties in the five elements, and refine them into the five internal organs.

Five elemental treasures are easy to find, but it's one in a million if they have the thunder attribute. To gather the five elemental treasures, it may not be possible to succeed even if you search for hundreds of years.

During the practice, the slightest mistake can cause the internal organs to collapse and die.

Lightning spells are inherently powerful, and difficult to control, introducing them into the fragile five organs is a very dangerous thing to do.

98 of the 100 who practice are going to die, leaving one crippled, and the last one’s fate is in the hands of God. If it wasn't so difficult to cultivate, the Royal Treasure Pavilion wouldn't have taken it out, and sold it so cheaply. This is a treasure that can be cultivated all the way to the Nascent Soul realm.

In this world, the Nascent Soul stage is already the ultimate master.

However, Yu Qing Yao has a system, so once shes learned it, just add points. Finding treasures are unnecessary.

The heart law she majored in became the Five Lightning Heart Sutra.

Yu Qing Yao only has 10 charms left, so she has no choice but to use 5 charms to buy another large stack of charm paper to go back, ready to close the door for another three days to paint more charms.

Three days later, Yu Qing Yao had once again saved up 300 charms, she pushed open the door and came out, surprised to see Zhou Xinyang and Shu Chang Yue arrive.

On the sixth day after the ranking battle ended, Shu Chang Yue brought his senior brother and teamed up with people from Golden Top Sect, to ambush Feiyun Sect’s team in a mountain.

Rushed up, killed 20 or so people, discovered that the person they wanted to kill was not there.

Shu Chang Yue and Zhou Xinyang were dying of depression.

Halfway through the ambush, kill Wang Yijie. Everything can be pushed to Golden Top.

But now, Wang Yijie has fled back to Feiyun Sect, which is not easy to handle.

Its not necessarily possible for these people to kill up Yuntai Mountain alone. Even if you gathered all the Daoists of Golden Top Sect, it would still be a bitter battle. On Mount Yuntai, Feiyun Sect has operated for hundreds of years, and there are countless magic formations on it.

And to assassinate Wang Yijie, I don’t know how long they would have wait in Baishan City before the opportunity came. They can't wait that long.

Although the people of Golden Top regret that Wang Yijie is not in, they still cheerfully chased down the people of Feiyun Sect.

Feiyun suffered heavy losses this time, and only two elders escaped.

Lord Wang spent seven days traveling day and night to get back to Mount Yuntai.

The first thing he did was find his eldest disciple, Qi Kaitai, and ask, "Where is Qing Yao?"

Qi Kaitai smiles, "Master, Junior Sister Yu is out traveling."

Lord Wang is anxious and harshly shouts, "Why did you let her out? When did she leave and who did she go with?"

Bewildered, Qi Kaitai replies, "Half a month ago, my Junior sister succeeded in building her Foundation and said she wanted to go out for a walk, so she went down the mountain by herself."

Sect Master Wang asks in amazement: "She has succeeded in building her Foundation?"

Qi Kaitai said cheerfully: "Yes! Junior Sister is so gifted that she succeeded in building a Foundation in half a month. I had personally protected her, and held a celebratory feast for her afterwards."

After a speechless moment, Lord Wang said, "Did she say where she was going?"

Qi Kaitai said: "Junior Sister said that she would just walk around Baishan. I don't know where she went."

"Has anyone come from Yunhai Sect?"

"No! What are they doing here?"

Lord Wang didn't bother to talk to his eldest apprentice, he burned incense and sent a letter to Yu Qing Yao to ask about it, but there was no response after the incense was burned.

He understands that Yu Qing Yao is not in Baishan and is thousands of miles away.

His heart sank, Qing Yao wouldn't have discovered something and secretly ran away when I wasn't around, would she?

Now Lord Wang is angry, he says "I asked you to watch her, why did you let her run away?"

Qi Kaitai is surprised and says, "Junior Sister has successfully built her Foundation and wants to go out for a walk, how can you say she ran away?"

Without answering, Lord Wang asked with a gloomy face, "Did she say when she would be back?"

Qi Kaitai replies, "Junior Sister promised to hurry back in a year."

Lord Wang turns away depressed, he can only hope that Yu Qing Yao is really out to play, and would remember to make it back for the New Year.

Qi Kaitai sensed that something was wrong with Master’s attitude towards Junior sister.

He can’t help but wonder why.

After a few days, the team that had gone to Hua Mountain did not return. Lord Wang became anxious again, burning incense and sending letters, he received a reply from two elders.

They replied that the team that went to Hua Mountain was ambushed by Golden Top Sect, and was wiped out, they were seriously wounded and hid out to recover.

When Lord Wang knew about it, he was so grief-stricken, and angry that he almost vomited blood.

This group of people died, three years later, what about the challenge?

“Old man Chen, you and I are enemies till death!” Wang Yijie looks at the sky, roaring.

When the news came out, there was mourning on Yuntai Mountain.

Lord Wang didn't expect Lord Chen to do what he wanted to do. He also wanted to kill all the Golden Top people who competed in the challenge, but he didn't get in touch with his ally.

Three of the most capable elders are dead, and nearly 30 of the most elite disciples are dead, this is a huge loss to Feiyun Sect.

The death of the Taishang elder hit Feiyun Sect the hardest.

Without this group, there's no certainty of winning the challenge in three years, and two, there's no longer any advantage against Golden Top Sect.

Lord Wang regretted that he had left alone first. He always felt that if he had been there, he would have been able to spot the ambush beforehand, and they would not have been so badly killed or wounded.

He did not know that the main purpose of the ambush was him.

This kind of hatred can only be quelled by war.

Lord Wang instructed the army of Baishan City to wage war against Wuzhou again.

At that moment, Golden Top’s team returned, and Lord Chen unceremoniously organized a counterattack.

The two sides are fighting again.

Yu Qing Yao didn't know there was a war on that side again, she was playing with Zhou Xinyang in Han City.

Everyday go on a scenic tour, eat, drink and be merry, playing till her heart’s content.

Terms:

Purple Cloud Ruyi- A scepter or a wand. Like this...

太上 - Taishang- Title of respect for Daoist; A great elder; A powerful elder usually in atleast Jindan realm.

Cultivation ranks:

Nourishing Qi

Foundation

Jindan

Nascent Soul (I referred to it as Yuan Ying earlier, its also known as Meta-baby, but I’m gonna go with Nascent Soul)

#Kill That Man #KTM #KTM Chapter 63

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justimajin · 5 years

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Catching a Case of the Doctor Blues ⌠Part 9⌡

⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ (3.6k) Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU

⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye…

⇢ Warnings: graphical descriptions of surgery

⇢ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

⇢ Next Update: Tuesday, May 21

It’s a simple, quiet evening in the corners of the hospital; nurses are attending to patients, doctors are doing their regular check-ups and interns are keenly observing right by their side.

The comfortable atmosphere sits peacefully in the center of your office, your gaze dancing over a flood of papers as you take a swipe of your pen and swirl it around as an everlasting stamp. The man situated afar from you in the same room is also doing the same task, occasionally bending down to place to slurp on some cooked ramen he so conveniently decided to make.

“How did you even…?” You are unsure about how to phrase the question when your gaze falls on the cooked noodles, especially when he glances up at you with cheeks filled with ramen.

He brings up the bowl closer to you but you shake your head, “Yeah, no thanks.”

“We’ve been working for hours, I got hungry!” Jin replies after swallowing down the large volume of noodles. You roll your eyes, a light smile on your lips when he stretches his legs out.

“Can we take a break?” He whines, “I’m exhausted.”

With a loud sigh, you agree, “Sure. My legs are starting to give out too.”

Both of you get up with longer drawn out stretches, attempting to get some circulation flowing into your veins once again. Stepping outside, the hospital echoes with the faint silence when the dark sky is illuminated through the many windows.

“It’s a little spooky.” Jin comments, closing the door after you and you nod. Working late hours at the hospital wasn’t a very rare event, but the sudden hush for patient sleep was nerve-wracking to be in.

“We can walk around a bit and then come back.” You glance at your watch, calculating that it would take approximately one more hour to finish the paper work with two individuals working at the same time, then the two of you could be pleasantly on your way back home.

Walking around the hallways, the steps you take are silent, with only whispers being exchanged, “Is anyone still here?” Jin asks.

“Should be. Although, I think Jimin went home early today and Jungkook went with him.”

“Those two are awfully close.” Jin chuckles, raising a hand to subtly cover his mouth from the abrupt sound.

“They’re almost like brothers at this point.”

“Brothers? Shouldn’t it be father and son?” A soft laugh escapes you at that.

“I think you and Jungkook are more like father and son.”

Jin looks at you appalled, “Me? Raising that kid? As if!” You hurriedly shush him down when his voice increases in volume and he quickly pipes down.

“Oh come on, Jungkook probably looks up to you.”

“Why wouldn’t he? I’m a fantastic role model.”

Sarcasm drips into your voice. “With an inflated ego? Yep.”

“When you have a face like this, how can you not idealize it?” He dramatically gestures to himself and you try to contain your own laughter from the huge exhibition.

However, before you’re able to retort back with an equally ridiculous comment, heavy pounding against the floor infiltrates your ears.

“There you are!” Namjoon’s wide eyes land straight on you, “I need you to come with me.”

He looks frazzled, eyes scanning around and white coat barely staying on his shoulders. You silently nod as Namjoon begins abruptly walking with this only being your simple cue to follow. It dawns on you that leaving would probably leave Jin to do all the work on his own, but he sends you a reassuring gaze when Namjoon increases his strides, almost as if he was running to his destination.

“Namjoon, what is it?” You ask, jogging lightly to keep up with him.

“An emergency.” He states, “You’re probably acquainted with Jung Hoseok?” He swiftly glances at you and your eyes widen.

“I am.” Beginning to pick up on your own pace greatly to walk on pare with him, tension pools in the pit of your stomach from the sole mention of his name.

Namjoon eventually leads you into the side corridors of the operating room, which was currently a room used for creating and analyzing X-rays. There are fine prints of some hanging on the walls once you enter, but your breath hitches when your eyes run over the large volume of results.

“Diagnosis of pneumonia. Except it’s a lot worse than you would think.”

You nod, baffled when you see the obstruct clouds of white engulfed inside Hoseok’s lungs – an image that was typical for anyone that contracted a mild case of pneumonia. It doesn’t seem to show anything out of the plain ordinary and simply glancing over it makes you still agree it that it only appeared to be a case of pneumonia.

“He has pneumonia, I don’t see-“ Suddenly your eyes flicker over to the image situated on the right side of the X-ray. A CT Scan.

A scan that was always in depth with its findings.

You cautiously walk forward to the image and sharply narrow your orbs, before you finally catch on.

“Pneumothorax.” You whisper, eyes scanning thoroughly all over the abnormal shape the lung was contorted in and uneasiness flooding through every fiber of you when it was such a clear indication of critical suffocation.

Namjoon hums, “Precisely. A collapsed lung,” He pauses, walking to stand beside you, “that’s almost to the stage of shutting down. Potentially for good.”

You turn to him petrified and Namjoon already notices the troubled glint in your eyes, “We need to operate on him by tonight. Dr. Kim stayed back for work and has agreed to assist with the operation, so I need both of you to get prepared.”

You nod, turning to leave but you suddenly halt in your steps.

“Can I have five minutes?”

You rapidly pace through the empty hallway when the tension flashes inside your mind, only one thought being stuck to it. It leaves your nerves in complete shambles and the clock ticks down in slow, frightening intervals.

The office door sparks into your view and you lunged for the knob, attempting to twist but the door doesn’t budge. A frown sets on your lips, but when you inch closer to plant your ear on the door, the softest of sobs speaks immediately to you.

You remove your ear and opt out to gently knock on the door. Instantly a heavy thud resonates on the other side, followed by more rummaging that takes a couple of seconds.

The door flings open and you’re welcomed to a Min Yoongi with pink filled eyes lined with cracks of red.

“D-Did you want something?” He croaks out, sniffling as he speaks.

“Are you okay?” The only thought had run through your mind when Namjoon had explained the situation to you was him. Maybe he had assumed that it wasn’t apparent to anyone else, but you could easily make out the warm exchanges him and Hoseok had – from the way Hoseok spoke so fondly about him and the way Yoongi would subtly linger around his side longer than he was required.

But the news itself was petrifying, leaving you unsure how he was dealing with the knowledge that Hoseok’s life had been dangling right in front of him and that the results of tonight’s operation would ultimately determine his undecided fate.

He sniffles again, this time reaching to dab his eyes with his white sleeve when they unconsciously re-surface drops of water, “I-I don’t know, I knew something was wrong and I just hate that we only found out now.”

He takes a sharp breath, attempting but failing to compose himself, “And by tomorrow…”

“We’ll try Yoongi,” He looks up to meet your fixed gaze, “We’ll save him.”

Taking a long drawn out breath, he nods, “I’m trusting you on this.”

“I’ll try my best.” You whisper, before he starts to usher you away.

“You need to get going. They’ll start preparations soon.” You take a quick glance at the clock and you firmly nod before hurriedly rushing away.

High amounts of concern cloud your mind immensely and the words Yoongi had left with you causes you to slow down, gripping down onto every single syllable.

“Y/N.”

You stop midway, about to head towards the operation room to turning around in Yoongi’s direction. The same heart-wrenching grief remains in Yoongi’s eyes, however the final words he leaves you with makes you feel like his entire world was resting on your shoulders.

“Please make sure he can breathe again.”

You deeply exhale, heading out with now heavy blue covered scrubs adorned instead of the light white coat. Walking towards the sterilization room, Yoongi’s words repeat in your mind when you recall the amount of times you had passed by Hoseok; suffering and struggling.

It was horrible, to even imagine that someone as wonderful and cheerful as Hoseok was dealing with being slowly suffocated as he spent his days here, to the point where his lungs were prepared to give it all up.

But it’s even more horrible when you have to come down to the conclusion that the only sole people who can stop Hoseok’s suffering were you, Namjoon and-

“Dr. L/N?” He questions, standing behind you when his voice again pulls you out of your thoughts and you want to inwardly groan.

“What?” You respond. Having a mind already consumed with impending pressurizing thoughts doesn’t quite leave you with any free space to handle Dr. Kim at the moment.

“Is…” He trails off, but you raise an eyebrow at him when he pauses. Dr. Kim would always speak to you sternly and directly, having his thoughts collected before trying to talk to you. “Is Dr. Min alright?”

If you were confused before, you’re completely blown away now. You were expecting a lot of things – jabs at your association with Hoseok, questioning if you were sufficient enough for the surgery, nit picking at any instance to rile up a distasteful reaction out of you.

Dr. Kim actually questioning about Yoongi’s wellbeing was far from the list, actually not existing on it at all.

“U-Uh…” You’re at a loss of words, not knowing how to retort, “He’s not doing so well…”

You’re not too sure if you should elaborate more to him, but Dr. Kim’s silently nods, “I see…”

Walking forward, you begin to sterilize your hands in the midst of blinking your eyes a couple of times. The whole interaction throws you off, being so well used to Dr. Kim’s rather annoying pieces of conversation that an automatic repulsive answer was always prepared for you. You didn’t think much about it, Dr. Kim set your nerves on fire and lets the rage pool inside, but these crucial reactions weren’t occurring.

Oddly enough, the change of conversation briefly diminishes the worrisome thoughts brewing inside your mind for the soon conflicting operation.

Walking into the operating room isn’t the same now; heavy steps are pounding against the tiled floor, fidgeting hands are kept on bay and your heart is accelerating at a tenfold speed. The same team of individuals surround you as before – nurses in blue ready to assist and the two necessary members situated in front of you.

The atmosphere is coated with the same twisted doubt just like the last surgery you had performed and it causes you to let out a shaky breath. For a brief moment, you try to dismiss all those past lingering thoughts, attempting to get your mind to narrow back in at the task at hand.

However, the white sheets are pulled upward and the moment your eyes land on Hoseok’s delicate features, that entire mentality is thrown out the window.

He’s incredibly pale, looking considerably worse than when you had last seen him. It irks you so much, churning your insides when you recall his sunny disposition and hopeful aura, now being reduced to a frail patient whose life rested in your hands.

With a deep sigh, Namjoon begins the procedure by carefully navigating around the space of Hoseok’s face so he can insert in a tube leading into the lungs. The process thankfully will be less difficult than the previous pancreatomy you had to go through and didn’t require the grueling steps of attempting to remove an entire cancerous organ.

The first step was simple – the lungs needed to be drained of the fluid that accumulated in them in order to relieve the persistent symptoms of pneumonia. Additionally, it gives you the perfect opportunity to repair the remainder issue of his collapsed lung, a part of the surgery that was going to be exceeding hard to maneuver around without draining the built-up liquid.

Once Namjoon finishes attaching the scope to his nose and mouth, a nurse enters the room with a blank monitor and Dr. Kim moves forward to assist her with setting up the machine. It instantly clicks on and displays a clear image of the chaos ensuring inside Hoseok lungs.

Namjoon cautiously moves the scope around, examining the precise location for the largest volume of the liquid. In the midst of this, you keep a sharp eye on the second monitor across from him which showcases Hoseok’s vital signs, fully being aware that it would disastrous for complications during the examination process.

The image drifts back and forth several times before a proper picture of the inside of lungs being displayed and revealing the location of drainage. Namjoon nods as confirmation before both you and Dr. Kim moves swiftly to insert the tubes that will remove the unwanted liquid into the small spot Namjoon had inserted the scope in.

The liquid initially pipes slowly, small bubbles forming inside the tube, but it soon picks up and an abundant amount flows through. Namjoon’s eyes remain glued to the screen, ensuring that the correct fluid was being picked up and that no further complications were occurring because of your actions.

You glance over at the vitals monitor, a sigh of relief escaping through when Hoseok is considerably remaining stable through the drainage.

Namjoon motions you to stop, assessing that the correct amount had been taken out in which the two of you move to remove the tubes while Namjoon keeps the scope inside. After the tubes had been taken out, Namjoon hums in content when the pipes on the monitor have substantially opened up and the hollow tube is not longer filled with a cloudy white mixture.

However, this was the simple part.

You had just performed the basic procedure doctors would do if a patient had a severe case of pneumonia and instantly needed a method of relief if antibiotics were proving to be ineffective. It wasn’t a terrifying operation per say because of how often it would need to be used.

The additional complication Hoseok had however, was the game changer.

His collapsed lung. Essentially a painful pressure of air lodged inside his chest cavity that was causing his lungs to shrink into an abnormal, curvaceous shape. It was the source of all his pain and a small, brief wrong move could cut off his air supply instantly, rendering him no oxygen.

The shiny prick of a needle is displayed through Namjoon’s outstretched hands and its sole appearance tugs your lips downward. Due to the very precise foundation of the surgery, it was utterly necessary to drill into your skull of how careful you had to be doing this.

Taking a gulp, you take the needle from him and look down at the boy currently lying on the stretcher in front of you. You take the syringe component and attach it onto the needle, requiring a pump to decrease the amount of air pressure built inside his lungs.

You cautiously insert the needle into his skin and let it penetrate through into his chest cavity. Slowly inching forward, you flinch when a large amount of air pushes against the needle and immediately flows into the syringe. It arises from the air being trapped inside his lungs for so long and you ensure that the amount isn’t too overwhelming to the point where you puncture into his airflow.

Draining the air comes smoothly and your eyes are fixated onto the spot that you had penetrated through to make sure that no tears are made in the flesh because of the needle.

But this is when his vitals start to respond to you.

You don’t move your gaze when the beep sounds through the room, the small siren alerting you of the treacherous field you were starting to trespass into.

“Blood pressure is decreasing.” Namjoon states, keeping an eye on the monitor as you perform your part.

You nod, blood pressure decreasing was not surprising because you were directly interfering with his air flow which was important for supplying the blood stream with oxyg-

“Heart rate is also decreasing.” Dr. Kim mutters in a tone lined with warning and it causes your thought process to stagger just like the lines on the monitor.

Heart rate…?

Your eyes quickly flicker around, examining his torso when the dark blue veins begin to peep out of his lightly tinted skin.

Low oxygen was interfering with the blood stream. Pressure had decreased, which was normal because of you interfering, but heart rate decreased and his veins were changing color.

He wasn’t getting enough oxygen. You were starting to cut off his air supply.

Panic floods through you when you focus begins to dwindle on the needle placed inside of him and how you were so close to removing all of the air from his lungs. You had to continue on to finish the operation, but he wasn’t being able to breathe at the momen-

A hand reaches out to slide against yours, slowly tugging the needle outwards and you receive an alarming look on your features from the gesture.

Dr. Kim holds the needle with you and his gaze is completely trained onto it, before his eyes briefly flicker onto your own.

“We have to continue with cutting off his air supply but reduce the amount being taken out. We can’t stop the procedure but we can lower the chances of suffocating him.” He gently states, his voice morphing in such a way where he sounded like he was trying to reassure.

You let it pass, nodding when you focus back onto Hoseok who needed all of your attention. Namjoon seems to be in agreement with Dr. Kim when he watches the monitor that continues to violently stray low with the impending decision.

The sirens keep blaring out and you can’t get a proper control on how you keep flinching when every single one rings, knowing that what you were doing was going to be unlikely to work. It becomes even worse when the tremor in your hands appears once again and despite your best efforts, your hands continue to tremble.

A soft amount of pressure is applied to your hands and you widen them, eyes darting around to wonder if the needle was still situated in the same position. It was; however, Dr. Kim’s blue latex hand covers yours completely and you come to the discovery that in the midst of trying to help you, he was actually holding your hand.

Abruptly, you flicker your eyes up at him and are taken aback when you realize his gaze was on you, observing any sort of reaction emitting out as you were internally battling with the situation.

You quickly lower your gaze, having a million questions racing in your mind but attempting to forget them in order to focus. It doesn’t help when you have to acknowledge that any times your hands give out, a slight tremble, a subtle shake, he applies more pressure onto them.

You try to ignore the comforting, warm vibe they emit.

Suddenly, the monitor beeps and both of you glance at it simultaneously.

The air pressure in Hoseok’s lungs had decreased substantially, returning to the normal level.

The huge amount of relief graciously flows in you when you let out a low exhale, returning the smile Namjoon gives when he comes over to assist you in removing the needle and patching up the spot that had been penetrated.

The rest of the operation involves ensuring that everything had been sterilized and that Hoseok’s vitals were still in the safe zone. Once those two tasks had been check-marked, Namjoon utters the words that have a large tired smile lining your lips when the whole entire operation room brims with the satisfaction.

“Surgery successful.”

You close your eyes when the room fills with cheers, many of the nurses patting you on the back when Namjoon shoots you a dimpled smile as well. When you reach out to thank all of them for the considerate amount of help they had done for you, a faint whisper resonates near your ear.

“Nicely done Dr. L/N.” The deep sound of the owner’s voice disappears when Dr. Kim walks in front of you to leave, sending you a small satisfied glance as he walks by.

Although complimented, you tilt your head at the display. A genuine praise, not paired with a smirk, not added with a small triumphing pose in front of you as a way to claim his victory.

Your eyes instantly land onto your hands, your mind flickering when even you don’t notice the slight pink tinting on your own cheeks from the memory.

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung doctor au #taehyung e2l au #bts taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts v fanfic #bts v fluff #bts v angst #bts taehyung doctor au #bts taehyung enemies to lovers au #taehyung childhood friends au #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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onepiecesmosthated · 4 years

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Biggest Coal Getters At Christmas In One Piece

As you know from this blog, I rag on the most hated characters in One Piece. At at this merry Christmas time, I want to show you all the biggest coal getters in this series.

12. Stelly

With being such an arrogant, self-important, entitled, and asshole brat, Sabo’s adoptive brother, Stelly, makes the first on the list on our naughty list. One has to feel sorry for the Gao kingdom for being ruled over such a spoiled king, who even thinks he can order Garp around because he’s originally from there.

11. Wapol

Another king on this list, but one who also is the president of his own toy company is Wapol. Like Stelly he was quite a horrible ruler when he was ruling Drum Kingdom, especially when he left the island to fend for itself when Blackbeard invaded and horded all the doctors so he could force people to pay high prices for them. Though he is currently living high now with his new kingdom gifted by the World Nobles, Santa still is going to leave a nice lump that fits his dark heart.

10. Judge

Just like with the earlier two entries, we have another asshole ruler and this one is the father of Strawhat member, Sanji. The ruler of the Germa 66, a seafaring kingdom that is notorious for conquering islands and being paid assassins, he is a social darwanist, who caused great abuse to Sanji throughout his childhood because he turned out normal. The only reason why he wanted Sanji back into his life was to cement an alliance with Big Mom by offering him as a groom for her daughter, Pudding, which turned out to be a trap because the Yonko planned to kill him and the other Vinsmokes off to get their technology. And at the wedding when the Big Mom Pirates’ true colors are showed, all that previous super macho bravado is melted away to reveal a sniveling coward who cries when someone puts him into the situation that he put others under. And for that the Germa clones will shoveling a lot of coal for a while.

9. Spandam

This guy is the poster child on why we should have anti-neoptism laws. A snively cowardly shit Spandam when he was head of the CP9 tortured Robin all the while she was under his captivity, while arrogantly believing his CP agents were untouchable. He also has little regard for human life when he accidentally triggered the buster call and didn’t care that his subordinates could die. He even called them needed sacrifices. He was also the reason why Tom, Iceburg and Franky’s mentor, was killed due to a frame up job he did in order to obtain the Pluton from him. It’s a bit karmic seeing him be forced to take orders from his former subordinate, Lucci, but even then the clumsy klutz should trip on his black pile of gifts he will get.

8. Hody Jones

Think Arlong, but with none of his few redeeming qualities. Although Hody can be said to be a product of his environment, he’s still a nasty racist shit, who should rot in the jail cell he was put in at the end of his starring arc. With his New Fishman Pirates, they planned on taking over the kingdom and go to Reverie where they planned to massarce everyone there. However, the worst thing he’s done is assassinate Queen Otohime, because she dared to try to aim to bring peace between humans and seafolk. If you think there can be a reason for his racism, then he would answer it himself: “nothing”. Nothing happened to him to make him hate humans personally he just grew up with the toxic belief that hating humans was justified. And for that Hody spends Christmas in a jail cell, while sharing it with the number of coals that can keep him and the other withered New Fishman Pirates company.

7. Mother Carmel

To the world (and to this day, Big Mom), Mother Carmel was a saintly figure who fostered peace between humans and giants plus opened up an orphanage for children of all races. However, underneath that facade lied a wicked slaver, who pretended to be a grandmotherly figure in order to sell children to the highest dollar. Her famed action of stopping the Elbaf crew from being executed was a staged event in order to gain the trust of the giants. Her most notable so-called prized asset was Charlotte Linlin (who would later become Big Mom), who to this day doesn’t know her foster mother never truly loved her and saw her as merchandise to be sold. Even though she’s a deceased character, she certainly deserves to have her stockings filled to the brim with stone, cold coal.

6. Blackbeard

Although he’s more of a love to hate example, we all know that Blackbeard deserves to be on this list. For one thing, if you want to know why the post-timeskip is chaotic as it is it’s thanks to this guy. He for years pretended to be a loyal member of Whitebeard’s crew and acted like one of the family knit setting. However, it’s all an at to get at the Yami Yami No Mi/Dark Dark Fruit. He killed one of his own brothers/crewmates, then went off to form his own crew where he fought Ace and got him handed over to the Marines, so that he could become a Warlord and get into Impel Down. There during the breakout he recruited level six members to his crew, then used them to kill his former captain and father figure Blackbeard. And postimeskip he has been shown to now be hunting down devil fruit users for his fellow crew. There is a reason why people say he’s the anti-Luffy and what a real non-romanticized pirate is like. So, I have a feeling Santa will be stopping by on Hive Island with some hefty packages that could fit his namesake.

5. Ceasar Clown

Although he’s shown as a butt monkey after his first appearance, the record of his misdeeds cannot be forgotten. On his island he kept children captive after a mole in the marines lied to their parents about them dying at sea, which he then proceeded to experiment on them with drugged candy which made them grow giant sized and shorten their live spans. All the while pretending he was actually curing them when he couldn’t give a shit. He also is notorious for making chemical weapons of mass destruction which is used by amoral individuals like the Beast Pirates. In other words, Santa strap this asshole to a big lump of coal and drown him.

4. Doflamingo

One of the most popular villians in the series is Donquixote Doflamingo, former Warlord, top broker, and King Of Dressrosa. Man, you could have a long list of all the shit he’s pulled throughout his career and life. On the outside he might look like a gaudy Elton John rip off, but on the inside bleeds one of the scariest and ruthless characters in the series. No wonder because he was born of the World Nobles, who are a sociopathic and psychotic bunch. From his take over to Dressrosa to funding Ceasar Clown’s research, he certainly can make you scared of the color pink. And that is why we have to heep this birds feathers with a black sheen.

3. Orochi

While Doffy is pretty to look at and is flamboyantly fun, Orochi just embodies “hate sink” stereotypes. He’s just made to be obvious that this guy is not going to be a good person. Spoilers ahead: I know he was influenced into becoming an asshole but he is still an asshole who sold out his country for his own benefit. Not to mention currently it was shown he was heavily implied to be the one who killed Suriyaki and lied to everyone about being named a successor with the help of that strange woman. His 20 years of terror have caused nothing but hurt to everyone under his rule as he causes a famine due to the occupying forces of the Beast Pirates. All of his because he believed he was entitled like his grandfather to be Shogun. He also wastes food, as his country is starving and feeds a whole village of hungry people failed “Smiles” so that they can quit crying about their dead loved ones. I know Santa would know of a way to get into this closed off country, so that he can deliver this shistain a coal that is as big as a mountain.

2. Kaido

Here is the man of thousand beasts and leader of the Beast pirates. Even though Blackbeard himself is no saint, he doesn’t seem to want to destroy the world like Kaido does. An unstoppable juggernaut, he sees suicide as a way to kill boredom and is often on his ass drunk. He’s ruled over Wano through Orochi for 2 decades, as he has decimated it into a famine wide place except the capitol where the rich and his toadie lives. He uses the land to function his own war effort and has caused many of the Wano people to go through great periods of grief. Like with Blackbeard, he’s an unromanticed version of what a pirate is really like. So, Kaido be prepared for Onigashima to reign coal like it’s no tomorrow.

1. World Nobles (Celestial Dragons)

By default, you know these shitty bastards would top the list. The biggest reason because of the fact that they are above the law and are allowed to do anything they like because they are so-called “gods”. They treat the general population like crap, while blatantly owning slaves when it was supposed to have been illegalized 2 centuries ago. They are also supported by a thing called heavenly tribute which country of the world government has to give continuously, lest they get kicked out and have no way of defending themselves from pirates or slave traffickers. So I can say the biggest coal getters go to these fat pigs in their towers. Better yet they should coal statues made in (dis)honor of them.

#hate sinks #assholes at christmas

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cruzrogue · 4 years

Text

F’M Smoak Part II

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: Prompt 31 “Scared, me?”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags: Fluff (friendship)

Thomas Merlyn/ Felicity Smoak/Oliver Queen

Summary: Continuation from F’M Smoak Prompt number: 5 “I might just kiss you.”

Notes: Halloween Bash and Felicity takes the stage. F’M Smoak is has an appearance at Verdant for a one time performance.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

I want to thank @fictober-event this was a blast! Thank you!

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

F’M Smoak Part II on A03

Verdant has been gearing up for the Halloween Bash. Tommy loves this holiday. He revels in being someone different and watching people be more enticed to party with as the added bounce to their normal festivities. Having a club, he can decorate as he sees fit keeping of course within a budget. He needs the club to turn a profit. Choosing the orange and black theme. Plenty of pumpkins and black cats, spiders, crows with the usual skulls, witch’s hats, and a few more Halloween décor choices.

He is excited that Felicity is helping him with a few designs. Using this to cover why they are spending loads of time together lately. He excitedly got her aboard to be one of the main event singers. She even deciding to write an extra song or two. That means he hired a local garage band to work with her. It has been so cool to see her walk in and meet the band members. Her squeaky-clean image throwing the grunge band for a loop.

“Tommy?”

Tommy moving some crates around. “Yea?”

“Why is Felicity’s name on some of these foam things?”

Tommy looks at the designs that will be used for the bash and he just shrugs, he promised Felicity that Oliver wouldn’t find out about this. The man is set to go on a trip with his mom and sister to visit a family member and won’t be here for this particular event. It’s the reason Felicity signed on to do her comeback for one night.

“What makes you think those have anything to do with Felicity?”

“Tommy? It’s her name. I may be dense at times but I know Felicity’s initials.”

“Of course, you do, you probably know all sorts of little facts about her.” Oliver gives him a dead stare. “What? You probably do and I’m not taking back that comment.”

“Well?”

“Felicity’s been helping me with designs maybe she took a break and did her name…” He won’t say she hasn’t helped him. She’s been busy practicing with her band. He admits she’s even better than he remembers.

Oliver goes to where the large cutouts that say ‘F’M Smoak’ are and counts a few. “There is about half a dozen here.”

Tommy just waves his hand, “Maybe it’s a prank I’ve set up and don’t need your disapproving overprotective tendencies when it comes to her.” He can see Oliver’s demeanor change as the man is super protective. “You’ll be away anyhow and…”

“No, I won’t.”

“No. You won’t, what?”

“My aunt is coming here to Starling so change of plans.”

“Oh. Does Felicity know?”

“No. Why should she? What are you planning Merlyn?”

“Whoa, you only call me by my last name when your peeved with me. Are you jealous?” Oh, yea the boy is jealous he can practically see the fume come from the man’s nostrils.

“No. You still haven’t answered the question.”

“There is nothing to tell.” Tommy goes back to moving crates. “If you are going to stand there like a stalk you can help me out here.”

“There is something going on.” Oliver does move to help move some crates. “Since you and Laurel are off the table…”

“I’m not seeing Felicity. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m…”

Tommy puts his hand up as he makes a growly sound. “I wouldn’t go behind your back and you can shove this denial shtick with me.”

“Tommy, I’m sorry. It’s just everyone expects… you know what forget it. Let’s just get these crates moved.”

“Okay, I get it now. At first, I didn’t. I admit I acted like I did but I really didn’t. For that I am also sorry.” Oliver with one of the last crates that need moving looks at Tommy confused. “The laurel bit, the trying to act like 5-years never happened, a few little things. Like acting like everything is okay when it’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s start by me telling you. Felicity is a great catch. You know. I know it. Someday the man who is lucky to have her will know it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you should hear it out loud, maybe even hear this over and over that she is thee catch. I also think you should not start anything with her until you figure your shit out.”

“Then why tell me this?”

“Oliver! It an incentive.” Tommy shakes his head. “We aren’t those dickheads of our youth anymore. I know I want more. And you know damn well you do to.”

“It’s complicated.”

“When is it not? Life is full of crappy situations but it also has these moments. Ollie don’t be so afraid to live.”

“It’s more not wanting to see her hurt.”

“You know that is a copout, right?”

“Tommy?”

“Hey, I didn’t know I was going to lose my best friend five-years ago. Not once during my grief did, I wish our history stopped existing.”

“What’s your point?”

“That no one is guaranteed a tomorrow. If there is a chance that you can make her happy than it’s worth the gamble.” He can see Oliver just begin to think things over. “Just figure your shit out first!”

“I wish it was that easy.”

“Yea well join the club. If things were that easy, we’d all be happily in love.”

Oliver takes a breath but he asks one more time because the thought came back, “Are you going to tell me the truth about those foam pieces?”

“Nope.” Tommy moves around the bar. “If I were you, I would stop by Verdant tonight.”

Oliver looks around the club. It actually looks really good and that cauldron front center to the stage he wonders how that’s going to look when everything is in motion. “You need any help setting up?”

“Nope, the crew will be here soon. All the last-minute touches will be handled. You go hang out with Auntie Beatrice.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later.”

Tommy wants to tell the man not to text or call Felicity that his plans have changed. Now that Oliver has left, he can place the pamphlets that holds the main attraction the reason the place is going to be packed. F’M Smoak is preforming tonight and her music sample is available online. With his panache of adding some videos taken of her college hey days it brought buzz thank goodness Oliver is so not into trends.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

“Tommy! Tommy!” Felicity scrambling around the crewmembers that are putting the last bites of the pieces for tonight bash. “Tommy? Where are you?”

“Hey there superstar.”

“Oliver, hasn’t left. He’s still in Starling.”

“I know.”

“You know. Yea he told me not that long ago.” She’s fidgeting. “I can’t. I just can’t perform.”

“Why not? You sound amazing.” Tommy makes a gesture of rocking it. “Are you scared of a few people rocking it to your music?”

“Scared, me?” Felicity continues, “I… I didn’t think Oliver would be here. He says he’ll be passing by. I just can’t…”

“Yes. Yes, you can. Girl you are amazing. You’ll be in disguise. The music will speak for itself.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

“Felici-ty, think of this as something years in the making. You know the club owners and you’ve got the voice.”

“Fine, I know your right.”

“Good, because I know you got this. Go get yourself transformed and become this amazing F’M Smoak I know you are.”

He watches her leave and is glad she listening. Taking a look at the amazing setup that Verdant has done he can’t wait to open the doors in less than an hour. If Oliver comes, he hopes seeing what he is dubbing Ollie’s girl up on stage will shake the man unto his core.

As Tommy gets his crew ready. He goes through the drill. Making sure his people work safe yet keep an eye out for any disorderly clients. People having fun and remembering a good night is all he wants. As the time dwindles down, he calls out, “All right people show time. You all have this. Let’s make this Halloween Bash be the talk of town. Best service, great atmosphere and one hell of a night of musical performers.” Here his crew cheer on everyone is ready. Doors open and the costumed guests start to fill in.

The music begins to play as the bar fills up. Tommy goes and checks on his musical guests, Thanking them all personally again. He notices he can’t find his number one girl. A little worried until her voice calls to him and he gets a good look at Felicity.

“Whoa.”

“Tommy?”

“Nah, wow you look amazing.” He gives her another look over. “I love the Goth you, not that the blonde you isn’t spunky.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment I think.”

He just chuckles, “Well I can’t wait to your set.” He can visually see her take a moment. She looks nervous. “Hey, you can so do this. F’M Smoak can. Knock them out of their boots.”

As her time comes, she goes up on stage. She’s glad that the lighting keeps her from truly focusing on any person. This way she can just sing to the crowd and not see any familiar faces, one especially.

Tommy is amazed as he watches her first set. He is singing along until he gets jabbed in the side and smirks to see Oliver make his presence known. The man is taking in the foam signs as his eyes fall on the singer. Tommy can pinpoint the moment Ollie recognizes Felicity and wow he doesn’t know which show to watch because Oliver is entranced and it’s like watching a movie as the most stoic man is showing so many different sentiments. From surprise all the way to lust.

Felicity words capturing the audience as her voice rocks the club.

“I'm kicking all the doors down I swear I'm gonna pull you out 'Cause your demons have been screamin' loud Na na-na-na na Throw me up against the wall There's nothin' that could scare me now Na na-na-na na”

She does a few more known songs and when she’s down the roar of the crowd clapping has her take a bow and then she moves to go back stage. Oliver is already moving quick. Tommy trailing behind he does not want to miss this.

Taking an offered water bottle Felicity chugs it. She is so glad this is over. She doesn’t know if Oliver caught her performance. Its freaking her out. She has no idea what he’d say or do and he’s only ever seen her be his tech girl.

“Felicity?”

His soft voice, she never noticed him sneaking up on her. She’s afraid to turn and see. As he calls out to her again, she tightens her closed eyes. She’s afraid of the disappointment she’ll see. He comes around to face her and she finally gazes at him. His blue eyes mesmerizing.

“I didn’t know but you were amazing.”

She’s stunned. Though his brightening smile gets her to smile.

Tommy watching this two fools dance around each other is sickening. “Well yea, you’ve always known she’s amazing.”

Oliver gives his best friend a dire look. Tommy just shrugs. These two aren’t going to move faster than a glacier so he goes back to front to watch the next act.

“You think I did good?”

“I do.” He’s really rattled by her look. He’s really digging it. “You also rock this getup.”

“Its something of a vintage. I first met Tommy wearing this.”

“Wait? What?”

“During some of my college days I may have also dabbled with music.”

“And you met Tommy than?”

“He was unreal and a perfect gentleman as he took a nice shiner to the face.”

Oliver is flabbergasted and actually recalls Tommy telling him about the black eye and his friend shrugging it off saying “The angelic voice was worth it.”

“The angelic voice.”

“What?”

“That is what he called you. This is what you’ve been doing all these weeks?” She nods. “I thought you and Tommy were getting chummy.”

“You did?”

“I almost wanted to give him another shiner to the face.”

“You won’t?”

He smirks, “F’M Smoak, I guess will never know.”

“Oliver, I’d like to get out of this ridiculous outfit.” She already grabbing a bag as she heading to where the foundry is. “I also have some…”

“Felicity?” he stops her.

“What?”

“You mentioned its only Halloween that you’ll where a mask. I was hoping to prolong the moment. Would you honor me with a drink at the bar?”

“Oliver, I would love to but there will be fans out there and…”

“And for a night, allow yourself to be the star, I promise to look out for you.” Getting really close to her as he whispers. “Tommy told be about the stalker.” He can see her processing that info but just nods as she takes his arm and the walk back.

The crowd loved her. For the rest of that night Oliver made sure she felt safe as she mingled with the fans. He enjoyed seeing her so out of the element for the quiet IT girl she has always portrayed to him. His girl is truly amazing and he promises himself that he won’t waste another second and ask her out soon. Though tonight F’M Smoak is in the house as Tommy gets her to do an encore.

This concludes the 31 days of Fictober!

Thank you!!!

song inspired:

Notes: https://genius.com/Valerie-broussard-deeper-lyrics

#fictober19 #oliver queen #olicity #felicity smoak #tommy merlyn

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cabaretcal · 5 years

Text

the 5 stages of grief / a.i.

Warnings: symptoms of depression, really sad stuff, mourning

Word count: 2.8k

Background info: the 5 stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

A/N: have tissues ready if you’re sensitive to these topics. If you think you may be too sensitive about mourning and depressing themes, I understand if you don’t want to read. Do what’s best for you! If you ever need to talk, don’t hesitate to message me!

—

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon; Ashton was waiting for you to come home from work. As he was putting dishes in the dishwasher, his phone rang. He quickly washed his hands and answered the phone.

“Hello, who is this?”

“May I speak to Ashton Irwin?”

“This is him.”

“You need to come to the hospital immediately. Y/n y/l/n was just in an accident. You were her most recent person on her call log, so we thought you were the best person to contact.”

His heart dropped. He hung up and quickly put his shoes on and left in his car. He drove way past the speed limit, but he wasn’t worried about that right now. He parked his car and ran to the information desk in the emergency room. He quickly asked where she would be and gave his own name. A doctor came out, standing in front of him.

“You must be Ashton. Ms y/l/n was in a serious car accident. Drunk driver hit her while going way over the speed limit. The car tumbled down a hill… she’s on life support.”

He felt his heart rate quicken. This could not be happening.

Ashton grew angry, “She could die because of some drunk driver not having the sense to not drive under the influence!? Where the hell is this guy? Is he on life support too?”

“I’m not allowed to give information on other patients if you’re not their family member Mr Irwin. Just hang tight.”

Ashton was hysterical. He called your mother, asking if she heard. She was already on her way from a state over. He wished she could come sooner. She always had the right thing to say. Ashton was scared out of his mind. He had no one to panic to. He texted Calum, pleading for him to come to the hospital. Calum complied with no argument, arriving a half hour later. Calum had seen Ashton cry, but this time it was the worst he has ever seen. He wasn’t sure how to make Ashton worry less. It was near impossible.

—

6 hours passed and Ashton had run out of tears to cry. Your parents finally made it to the hospital.

The same doctor came back, “can you come back with me, please?”

Ashton and your parents followed the doctor to a room with chairs and a desk. There were many pamphlets in piles.

Dealing With Grief

Are You Depressed?

When To Get Help

Losing a Loved One

Ashton was scared. He just knew that the worst thing possible happened.

“Car accidents are very common, you see. A lot of times, people live. But sometimes you know not everyone gets lucky. Road traffic crashes rank as the 9th leading cause of death and account for 2.2% of all deaths globally…”

Ashton began to cry. He knew what he was going to say. You were gone. Forever.

Ashton fought through his tears, “Can’t you just try cpr again o-or maybe put her on life support again maybe she just needs a little longer you know? There has to be a way-“

“We did all that we could, young man.”

Your mother was hysterical. Your father felt numb. Ashton couldn’t bear to be in the room.

“There will be a court hearing for the man responsible for causing the accident in a week… he will be charged with vehicular homicide. This is a felony that, upon conviction, will result in a sentence of between 3 and 15 years of imprisonment.”

Ashton couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left, slamming the door to the office.

—

The funeral followed less than a week later. All of the boys came to support him. It was hard to be here. Ashton had never felt so much pain.

“We gather here today to celebrate the life of y/n y/m/n y/l/n…”

Ashton cried all through this part. He couldn’t handle seeing your picture. He would never see you smile like that again. Once it was time for speeches, he stood up and walked to the podium.

“Y/n was perfect. Perfect for me. She always brought out the best in me. I remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I came to the coffee shop she worked at and ordered an iced americano. She told me I had bad taste in coffee. She’s not wrong. And I just laughed, saying ‘Well I have great taste in girls, so how about I get your number?’ It was cheesy, but I got her number so it was good enough for me. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. I took her on a picnic and I just knew. She was the one. 3 dates later, I asked her to be my girlfriend. She said yes for some reason, but thank god she did. I planned on proposing on our 3 year anniversary next month. I have the ring and everything. I’ll always be in love with her. I’ll never meet anyone better than her. I’m a lucky man.”

—

It’s been a week since the funeral. Every single day at 6:30 pm he would wait for you to come home, hoping one day that maybe it’d turn out that he was just dreaming and you never left. He was in a constant state of denial.

The day after the funeral he woke up in bed, turning on his side to admire you, but all that was there was an empty side of the bed. The blanket usually ended up all on your side. You were known to hog the blanket. It looked like that wouldn’t be a problem anymore. He got up and made the bed, going downstairs afterwards. He made himself a bowl of cereal and sat at the kitchen table. You two always had breakfast together. He couldn’t bear to eat without you, it was tradition. He would feel guilty. He picked his bowl up and poured the cereal into the garbage disposal, flipping the switch. Ashton’s phone dinged, Calum had texted him.

Did you want to go out for breakfast today with the guys?

Maybe it’d be good for him to get out of the house. He said yes and went back to the room to get dressed. Calum offered to drive, so Ashton waited for him to arrive.

—

“I’ll just have a coffee, black.”

The waitress walked away and the boys continued conversation. It was just normal banter, like usual. Nothing was out of character.

Ashton looked at the menu intensely, trying to decide what to get.

“What are you getting, mate?” Luke looked up from his menu at Ashton, one eyebrow raised.

“I might get pancakes, but I’m not 100% sure.”

“I think I’m getting French toast.” Ashton’s heart dropped. You would always order french toast. But he kept it all inside, clearing his throat.

“That’s a good choice.”

The coffees arrived and Ashton began to drink his. Everyone was talking normally. He desperately wanted to join conversation, but it was hard. He just kept to himself until someone spoke specifically to him.

“So Ash, we were thinking about having dinner at Cal’s place tonight. Ya know, like we used to. You down?” Michael looked at Ashton with hope, wanting to get Ashton out of the house.

“Yeah of course, sounds good.” Ashton smiled weakly, the boys cheering ‘we’re trashing Cal’s place yeah!’. He slightly smiled, he was lucky to have the guys in his life.

“No one is trashing my house!”

—

Everyone went straight to Calum’s house straight after breakfast. Everyone was just messing around as the night came, and everyone was just enjoying one another's company. Ashton sat on the couch, twiddling his fingers anxiously and laughing when everyone else would laugh so he would seem less off.

“Hey Ash, come help me set the table!” Luke called out from the kitchen.

Ashton made his way to the kitchen, opening the cabinet and taking out the plates. Subconsciously, he got out five plates and five forks. He handed two sets to Luke and they both set the table.

“I think you miscounted, mate.” Luke smiled, taking one plate and set of silverware off of this table.

“No no it’s right it’s you, me, Mike, Cal and… oh wait um yeah I guess there’s only four. Sorry.”

Luke realized why Ashton got out enough stuff for 5 people. You would join the boys once in a while for dinner with all of them.

“It’s alright, Ash.” Luke smiled weakly, trying to hide his worry.

The boys filed into the dining room, sitting at the table while chatting loudly.

Ashton sat in the last empty spot, putting food on his plate as everyone else did the same.

The boys chatted normally, talking about music and shows that they were watching on the television. Everything was normal. Ashton didn’t get how they could act like everything was normal.

“How can you guys just act like everything’s okay?” Ashton’s voice was calm, but inside he was breaking.

“We just want to get you out of the house Ash we’re worried about you…” Michael looked at Ash with sincerity, “we just want you to be okay.” He had never seen his friend this way; he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Maybe if she wasn’t fucking dead I would be okay! Maybe if that guy wasn’t an idiot and drove drunk she could be here with us! Why do good people get the bad end of the stick? It should’ve been me!”

Calum tried keeping his composure, “Ashton don’t say that, it shouldn’t be either of you. I know you’re hurting-“

“You don’t know shit! You don’t know how I feel! You’ll never know how I feel!”

“Ashton bud just calm down-“

“I’m calling a fucking Uber I can’t do this I-I’m not okay I can’t pretend I’m okay.” Ashton got up from the table, walking out the front door.

—

Weeks had passed since he stormed out of Calum’s house at dinner. As he drank his third glass of bourbon, Ashton couldn’t stop thinking about all possible outcomes.

“It should’ve been me” he thought.

What if he would’ve taken you to work and picked you up that day? What if he could’ve kept you in bed all day so you’d call in? What if he would’ve asked you to stop at the store right by your work before coming home?

Ashton didn’t understand why it had to happen to you. He was confused and hurt. He didn’t know what the meaning of life was anymore.

He decided to call Cal, and he answered after a few rings.

“How are you doing, Ash?”

“I don’t know. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I don’t know what’s wrong what should I do? What’s wrong with me?”

“Ashton are you drinking?”

Ashton didn’t say anything.

“Ashton. I’m coming over.”

Then the line went dead.

—

“I don’t know, Cal. My drinking problem came back a-and I can’t ever sleep more than 2 hours. What’s wrong with me?”

“Maybe we should take you to a therapist?”

“I’m embarrassed, Cal! I can’t talk to a random person about how I feel.”

Cal sighed in frustration, “Fine, we won’t get you a therapist. But you have to let me stay with you. I don’t want you doing anything stupid.”

“Okay, fine.”

“First order of business: no alcohol in the house.” Cal went to the alcohol cabinet, throwing it all in the trash. He grabbed the drink from Ash’s hand and poured the rest in the sink.

“Let’s get to bed.”

—

11 AM came around and Ashton still hadn’t got out of bed. Cal got up from the couch and wandered up to Ashton’s room. Ashton was wrapped in a blanket, looking at his phone.

“Ash let’s get outta bed now, right bud?”

Ashton just mumbled a quiet no in response, burying his head in the pillow. Ashton couldn’t bring himself to leave the bed. In bed, nothing could go wrong. He would be away from the world and all the problems that come with it.

“Alright Ash you leave me no choice,” Cal sighed and tore the blanket from Ashton’s hands, pulling him up by his arms, “alright let’s get you dressed and start the day.”

“I really don’t want to…”

“You’ll feel a lot better if you do, I promise.”

Ashton sighed, walking to the closet and picking out a t shirt and joggers. He put them on, looking in the mirror. His hair was a mess and he had dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. An excessive amount of weight had been lost due to loss of appetite. He was absolutely wrecked inside and out.

“There we go look at you! Ready for the day.”

“Yup, all ready.” Ashton smiled weakly. It was hard to see himself like that. He was so broken. He missed the old him, and how happy he used to always be.

“Okay let’s eat then.”

“I’m not hung…” Ashton stopped himself. He knew he had to eat. He didn’t eat yesterday at all, “Yeah let’s eat, what’s on the menu?”

“I was lazy today so I ordered dominos. Got your favorite pizza too because I’m the best. Thank me later.” Calum gave a cocky grin and Ashton laughed. Calum missed the old Ashton, and he was finally shining through.

Although, some days were worse than others.

Sometimes, Ashton absolutely could not get out of bed. He was losing weight rapidly, and Calum caught him crying constantly. Everything was crashing down faster and faster-what could Calum even do? He wasn’t a therapist nor a doctor, just a worried friend. As Calum sat in Ashton’s room while Ash buried his face in the pillow, Ashton finally spoke.

“I think I should see a therapist.”

“I think it’s the best thing for you, Ashton. I support you all the way.

—

The therapy room was cold. The walls were white and had some landscape paintings on them. There was a salt lamp giving off a faint orange glow in the corner, and the room was quiet.

“Ashton, you know it’s okay to not be okay, right? You know it’s okay to ask for help?”

“I was just afraid to burden people.” Ashton sat in the chair in the therapist's office, messing with a rubix cube subconsciously.

“Grief is a hard thing to go through without professional help, or help in general. You’re lucky you have a friend who stays with you and checks on you. He’s extremely worried about you. Tell me about y/n, what was she like?”

Ashton just smiled at the thought of you, “She was the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. She had the prettiest eyes, and the voice of an angel. She was patient. She was kind. She helped me out of my alcoholism. I didn’t deserve it, but god I’m glad I got it. I don’t know if I’ll love again. She was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was gonna marry her… she was like the embodiment of sunshine. I don’t know how to live life without her. It’s like living in a world without sun. What’s a world without light? She was my light and now I just feel lost.”

The therapist looked Ashton in the eyes, “She may not be here physically, but I know she feels the same about you. And I understand that it feels like you’re just walking alone in the dark, but it won’t be like that anymore once you learn how to live without her presence.”

“I miss her… but I know she wouldn’t want me to go on with my life feeling like this. She’s seen me at my worst before already. It killed her… maybe I need to work on being okay. I just don’t think I can stop loving her.”

“It’s okay to still love her, Ashton, just don’t stop your whole life. You have so much ahead of you.”

—

Ashton went to therapy 2 times a week for 2 months. In those 2 months, he learned so much about himself.

Ashton thought about you everyday. He put a picture of the both of you on his nightstand. He loved you so much. But he didn’t let missing you stop his whole life. He finally got out of the house with his friends more often. He started to cherish some moments alone by himself. Calum still checked on him everyday. Of course he had his days, but he was primarily getting better. He knew you’d be so proud of him, and that kept him going. He was so in love. He would never forget the color of your eyes or the sound of your voice. He would celebrate you for many years to come and learn that it’s okay to not be okay.

——

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