#even when his own mind was crueler to him than anyone else could ever be

[void-and-virtue]

You go into reading ORV thinking it’s going to be a story.

You read it and it’s a story: it’s a story about a reader.

You read a little further and realize that it’s a story about stories: stories that make people as much as people make them.

You get to that point and you finally realize that it’s a con.

It’s a con: it’s been a con from the very first word, the longest, most visceral and excruciating con you’ve ever seen, yet somehow never saw coming—and you’re fuming but you’re also holding your breath because you can’t even be mad, it’s got you hook, line and sinker and you’d follow it beyond the end of the earth, you’ve already followed it beyond the end of the earth unknowingly and now you’re willing to go even further than that, willingly choosing it for yourself, because you need to see where this goes, you need to, because you care. You care.

Somewhere, you know with all the faith of a reader that Han Sooyoung is smiling.

#I will never be okay about this #conned into loving this broken world by making us see it through the eyes of the man who loved it more than anything #conned into loving him because the world and the people in it loved him back even when he couldn’t love himself #even when his own mind was crueler to him than anyone else could ever be #conned into loving him because god wants him to love himself so badly she’d damn the world for him to survive and we get it. we get it. #conned into loving yourself just a little bit more because how could you not after reading a story like that? #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv spoilers #omniscient reader’s viewpoint spoilers #han sooyoung #kim dokja #hsy #orv hsy #kdj #orv kdj #doksoo

[notyour-valentine]

Go tell the English II ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Angst)

[MASTERLIST] [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Tommy leaves the field hospital in France with nothing but a trinket, and memories of the woman that had given it to him (Reader/OC is only mentioned. She doesn’t appear)

Note: This is the original and main part of an old exercise I wrote a long time ago. It is a little different to my normal writing style and I am very curious what you think and would be very grateful for comments and feedback (style, content, anything else) of any kind. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: Description, mention and implication of violence, death and war, possible character death, rape and violence. As I am an adult, all my writing I share is unless explicitly stated for adults (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Wordcount: 3155

[Previously]

~

January - 1919

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

He couldn't erase the names from his memory, no matter how much he tried. They kept ringing in his ears and rattling around in his head, as if to taunt him. Like a curse.

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

If he was riding, he'd urge the horse to ride faster as if he could outride reality. If he was fighting, he'd hit harder as if it was their fault, as if they were the enemy. And if there was a drink in range, he'd reach out and drown it as if he could drown the past with it. 

And at least that way he'd feel something, even if it was only the short burn of the liquor on his tongue. For a fleeting, shining moment he could feel the warmth spread through his body once more. 

But like all good things, it faded away and slipped through left him colder than he had been before. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

He reached for the bottle again. Why bother with the glass? 

There's no one here to judge but if there were, he wouldn't mind a fight. 

Otherwise he might punch a wall again and his knuckles were still only half healed. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

He took another swing of whisky. 

It's no longer the good Irish one, instead a worse, nastier sort, but he doesn't drink it for the taste. He drinks it for the burn. 

She wouldn't want him to beat his fists bloody on the wall when he knew the house was deserted. She wouldn't want him using opium either, come to that, but he could no longer see her, not since he had read the list, but sometimes he could hear her voice. 

"Meet me tonight in dreamland, 

Under the silv'ry moon

Meet me tonight in dreamland, 

Where love's sweet roses bloom."

And yet there was no crueler torture in the world than to wake up and stare at the ceiling, and more than once he wished it was the high ceiling of that field hospital in the hell they called France. Because at least, she'd still be there. And that makes shame burn in his chest.

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

He doesn't want to think about it, but he does.

And he can't stop. Two hospitals had been bombed, another had burned down and a fourth overrun. But he did not know which fate hers had been. 

He hoped it wasn't the fire. She had been so excited when he showed her how to build one from scratch. But a bomb was fire too, though too quickly to realise. 

The worst would be the last. They had taken prisoners, he knew, but not those who resisted and she would have resisted. 

She would have resisted until the very end to protect her patients and her values. Even after everything, she still believed in silly things like that- in King and Country, in Honour and Duty and Service. Tommy had stopped believing the first week he had been in France, if he ever had. 

He remembered a time where he had joined her as she paid a visit to the graves of all the patients that hadn’t survived. What was the poem, whose words she had traced over and over in the pages of her little notebook-

Go tell the Spartans…

He didn't need anyone to tell him. He knows by himself just fine. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

She would never have given in. She would never have surrendered, not a single inch, not a single patient. 

With luck then, she would have been shot, but she was a dainty thing with a will far exceeding her physical capabilities. It would be far too easy for a man half Tommy's size to overpower her. 

The thought made him sick to his stomach. 

Then, he thought bitterly, rather the fire. 

But he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know if they buried her. 

A part of him hoped they did not leave her out there to rot, but the thought of her, all alone in the cold filth and the darkness, in the thick black soil of France, was too much for him. 

He wretched up the little food he had eaten and refilled his stomach with burning amber. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

“What happened, Tommy?”, Polly asked.

It had been a bad night and one of the few times he had slept in long enough for them to find him. She had woken him up though, and got him cleaned up before Ada or Finn could see. 

“Got drunk.”, was all he muttered as he splashed water onto his chest. 

Behind him, she had only ever sighed. 

His body was specked with scars, seeming more prominent to him now than the tattoos they had made both in France and before. 

Tommy had thought of getting another one, a flower maybe. She had liked flowers, but he already had a mark of hers on his body. 

His fingers ghosted over the scar on his side, tracing the thickened, paler skin. 

She had been there when they had dug the bullet out, had washed and dressed and re-dressed the wound countless times. She had healed him. 

“Who is she?”, Polly asked. 

In the reflection of the mirror he could see she was holding up the pale blue ribbon. 

Only then did he realise that she had plucked it from his fist before waking him up. 

He crossed the room in two strides and tore it from her grasp so sharply that his aunt hissed in pain. But Tommy didn't care. Relief washed over him as soon as he felt it in his hand once more. 

As always, he could feel her dark eyes on him, digging holes into his skull. She wouldn’t leave him be, he knew, and all he wanted to do was get away. 

Maybe he’d take a horse and ride until he fell off the edge of the earth. That wouldn’t be too bad. 

But for that he needed to get past Polly first. 

“Some girl.”

His throat was still sore from last night and so his voice was strained. 

“The nurse from France?”, Polly demanded to know, but the look he gave her was enough to make her go quiet. 

She doesn’t ask him again, but he knew Arthur talked. He could see it in their eyes.

Fuck them both.

Arthur could say what he wanted, he had no clue. He had never even met her. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

She would have loved Finn, after all she had adored her siblings and the way she talked about them had made them more real than his own siblings seemed at times.  

She admired her older brother, shy but still determined to be their protector, had a constant back and forth with Frederic, her twin, who had been both her best friend and fiercest rival and was fiercely protective of sweet Isabella, her parent's first born. And she had doted on the youngest.  

Tommy liked watching Finn, but there was an invisible wall between him and the boy, as if something thicker than glass was separating them. He tries, but it’s not enough, not as much as he would have liked.  

All he could think about was another boy, one he did not know, who, like Finn, had waved off three siblings for France, but of those three none had ever returned. 

"Why don't you laugh anymore?"

The question tore him back to reality, to the little boy in front of him and not the one he thought of the way she spoke of him - "the baby". 

"Finn, leave Tommy be.", Ada insisted, taking him by the hand and ushering him out. 

"I'm just asking.", he heard him defend himself before the door fell shut. "He always laughed before France."

That was a lie. 

He had also laughed in France, with the men, with Arthur and John and Freddie and the rest of them, even if it seemed strange to remember it now. 

He had laughed with her too. 

Her laughter was a giggle she always hid behind her hands, one she tried so very hard to hold back but he could always coax it from her.

His imitations had always done the trick- the other patients, the nurses, the matron, but especially the way he copied the priest had reduced her to tears of joy. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

She didn’t own a horse, had never even ridden one.

He had found that absolutely ridiculous, especially since she had told him she had ridden a camel once. 

But she knew stories about horses, stories that had made him chuckle in disbelief.

They were tales about long dead Kings and insane Emperors, of the one who made his horse a senator and later declared war on the ocean- all so ridiculous he didn't believe them then, but once he got home he had checked each and every one. Because these stories she had told him were the only threads that still tied him to her, and the fact that they were true proved to him that she had been real and not just a fragment of his fever-strained and shattered mind.

Incitatus, that was the name the mad emperor had given his horse. 

But what good was that now, eh? 

When he had asked which kind of horse she liked he had expected a breed, even the name of a famous racehorse, after all, she was posh enough to get the good seats at the races, but instead all she had said was 'the white kind'. 

That had made him scoff so much he had nearly spat out his water, but he wasn't laughing now. 

The white steed was beautiful- the silver glimmer on her fur ran over her body like waves over rocks as the muscles worked under the skin. 

She was a gentle thing, easily compliant too, and not a bad horse for a still untrained rider. 

Tommy won the horse and as he was grooming her, his eyes burned. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

The new barmaid is pretty, and sweet, too sweet for a place like this. 

But when he heard her singing, he felt a foreign rage boil up inside him. 

She wasn't a bad singer, and it cheered the men, it cheered them here like it had cheered them in France. But he forbade it and beat his fists bloody on the wall before drowning his sorrows. 

The next morning, he felt ashamed. 

He had seen how happy the men were, how much it lifted their spirits. 

She wouldn’t have disapproved- on the contrary. She had given everything to cheer the men, the injured and the dying alike, sacrificing her sleep and probably the better part of her sanity as well before finally giving her life for them. 

When he led the horse home and the barmaid asked him, he saw a similar glint of determination in her eyes. 

And so he thought, he might just let her sing, if only to escape the guilt. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

There was nothing he could do. 

He didn’t want to see it, but he did and he knew what he had to do. 

And yet it hurt him, practically tearing his heart from his body. 

Tommy asked them all to leave as he led the horse outside. 

The grave is dug faster than he would have liked, and once it was wide and deep enough he had no other excuse to delay. 

The white steed was so calm as he placed the blindfold over her eyes. 

“Good girl.”, he praised, as his voice grew thick, fighting to pass the lump in his throat. 

She neighed as if to respond to him, as if she somehow understood and sought to give him comfort. But there was no comfort for men like him. 

He lifted the gun and whispered the words “In the bleak midwinter…”

Now, he thinks, but he can’t. Now, do it now!

Still nothing. 

Those were his words, not hers. She had chosen different ones. 

But who could he tell? And which laws was he obeying but the cruel laws of nature?

Tommy took a deep breath and steadied himself as his own eyes fluttered shut. 

He heard the bang and the frantic last cry of the poor animal as it fell into the grave he had dug. 

It took him long to be able to open his eyes again and it was dark by the time he had refilled the grave. 

His arms were aching and the rain was mixing with the sweat on his body. 

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe horses went to heaven as well and maybe the steed would get to meet her there. 

But that was a stupid thought- a childish thought. 

No one went anywhere when they died, they were just gone. 

And there was no heaven either, none to strive towards. 

If there was a God then he was cruel and unjust because otherwise she would still be alive. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

Tommy was so tired of being hurt. 

He just wanted it to stop, but halfway home he realised that all the whiskey was gone. 

But there was still light in the Garrison.

That would do. 

The pretty barmaid looked scared when she let him in, but did so anyway. The way she tried to be brave made her look beautiful. 

She was pretty, with hair of spun gold and soft features. 

And she was kind to him. And Tommy was just so tired. 

Maybe that was why he let her, after all it made her happy and at least one of them deserved to feel some joy. 

He doesn’t want her to sing a happy song. 

She warned him, but he nearly laughed. 

There was no way she would break his heart, even if she tried. 

“Already broken.”, he whispered as he allowed himself to drown, after all he still remembered the complete honours list he had greased palms to get from the war office, and the names on it, written in black on white. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

~

He couldn't breathe. 

His lungs are burning and he yet he couldn’t breathe. 

And when he did, he heaved in sync with the crashing down of the jug, again, and again and again. 

Only when he started to feel the pain in his arm, did he realise what he had done. 

The man’s face is but a mass of red, and here and there specks of white but Tommy couldn’t tell whether it was bone or brain. 

He could suddenly taste bile in his mouth as he wiped his face clean of the sticky red matter, or at least cleaner. 

All the while, laboured breaths tear from his body. 

Only then did he remember the barmaid, who was shaking like a leaf, still clutching the gun in her hand. 

She whispered tearful apologies to him as he approached her, but he wasn't angry. How could he? She had been afraid, overwhelmed, and all he had taught her was how to hold a gun. 

But if she was able to pull the trigger and hit a target, then maybe his other pupil could have done it as well. 

She had objected to even holding the gun at first, but he had insisted. 

That had been his parting gift, a gun and instructions how to use it. 

She had given him a ribbon. 

~

He couldn’t stop thinking about the red mass on the floor, the pulp of blood and worse. 

It was self-defence but it felt like vengeance. 

And that was what she had hated. 

Tommy had asked her once if she had wanted to avenge her brothers. 

How angry she had gotten, how much had the fire burned in her eyes. 

“Vengeance makes monsters of anyone”, she had insisted, as her eyes shone, “all it does is bring more pain and more suffering and more anger and so it goes on and on and on and soon enough no one remembers what started it all and how we got here but it doesn’t matter anymore because we’ve all gone too far to turn back even if we have lost ourselves along the way.”

He had heard the fear in her voice- a girl who had gone to war, who had seen terror and agony, who had held men ripped to shreds in their dying moments, and yet the thing she had feared most was the price of vengeance. 

A part of him knew he can’t continue like this. And he doesn’t want to. 

But I don't know- I don't know how. 

~

She had become a quiet part of his life, like a shadow behind him, guiding his hand and whispering in his ear. 

But he had gotten used to her subtle presence, for it had been just that- subtle, until Grace had mentioned America. 

Then it came back with full force, all the memories, the smells and sounds, like a wave crashing down on him and pulling him under. 

She had gone to so many places already, Rome and Berlin, Budapest and Greece, all the way to Turkey and even Egypt. 

She had visited the Colosseum, the Arc de Triomphe, Schloß Schönbrunn and the Acropolis. 

She had stood in the shade of the great Pyramids and had walked amongst the ruins of Troy and yet she had longed for America, for the Statue of Liberty and the Memorial they had begun to build for that President that had gotten shot for freeing the slaves. 

He would like to see those places too, that place of freedom and equality. 

She had recited the poem back in France from only her memory which housed so many rhymes and stories of times long past, with only him and the trees as audience. 

Give me your tired, your poor, 

your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 

That certainly applied to him. 

end these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door. 

It was the country with unlimited possibilities, and anyone could make their way over there. 

But he was not sure. 

He couldn't be sure and as he thought, he twirled the ribbon between his fingers. Her ribbon. 

If he were to leave, he would have to let go. It wouldn't be fair to Grace otherwise. 

But could he?

Thomas Shelby was no coward but in this, he let the coin decide. 

When the face of the man he despised stared up at him, he breathed a small sigh of relief and tucked the ribbon back into the pocket of his jacket, closest to his heart. 

As he got up, the names that haunted his nightmares echoed in his head once more. 

Farrell, Wilhelmina

Farrow, Sophie

And he would never forget the name that was missing- the one that ought to be right between them, but never was. After all, they didn’t award these types of medals to the fallen. 

End.

I would like to thank anyone who has taken their time to read it and I would be very grateful for any kind of feedback or comment.

xx Val

#tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #Go tell the English #tommy shelby #Thomas shelby #valentineswritings

[osmosisdreams]

planned starter | @naitfall

If he did this, Levi would remember. There was no erasing his memories; no asking him to forget. There would be no asking again and again when this was over. Eren had no plans to make it out of this. At the same time, didn't that give him every reason to do this? Once he was gone, it didn't matter what others would say about him. He wouldn't be there to hear it.

Considering that, of course, he had to be more mindful of what he said here. He could say anything to anyone else and they would forget. That made it easier to say anything he had on his mind or to explain anything he felt. Levi was a trickier one, and it wasn't just the fact that he wouldn't forget. That... was good though. Familiar.

Actually, he didn't really know what Levi had been thinking for almost all of this since after meeting back up in Marley. He'd heard a few stray thoughts about others before bringing each person into the Paths, even if only by word of mouth had it not been by the person themselves, but he didn't know what someone so close to him thought about... any of this. Of course he disagreed, or he wouldn't be fighting against Eren... but most people seemed to have strong opinions. So far, he was surprised to count Jean among one of the very few who had wavered.

So he did it. He brought Levi here. At first it was overwhelming - wanting to say so much, be happy, be upset, be confused, be relieved all at once. Most of Levi's face was covered in bandages, and he didn't look anywhere near as alive as Eren remembered from years back. He was here though.

In and of itself, it wasn't a poor idea to bring him here. The problem lied in Eren's conviction. When he had to stand on opposite sides to Levi, could he pull through with that? When they had always stood on the same side? When Eren had always stood behind or beside him? When this had been, in essence, his protector during his lowest moments?

Of course he could. Jean had almost gotten him to waver too. He didn't want this. Parts of his emotions wanted this, but how much of that was influenced by Ymir? How much of him was still him? How much was even left of Eren Yeager? If the past, present and future were all the same, all set in stone all this time, was he ever Eren Yeager? Was he always a pawn of another person's will from long before his time?

Perhaps Levi should have killed him a long time ago. But then, would the will that dragged Eren all this way have allowed that? Figured out some way to avoid it from happening? Was Levi just another pawn, meant to protect a detonator all this time?

But still... Eren was at least left with his own real feelings. Crueler as that made this, pulled along by these whims while he could still think and feel, he was grateful. In the end he could say he had something real before all this. Levi was part of that.

He sighed lightly. He couldn't keep his silence forever. "Hey..." Admittedly, he was struggling to find words despite having plenty to say. On someone who would forget this conversation until he was gone, it would have been easier. On someone who wasn't Levi, this would have been easier. "Sorry to pull you into the middle of... infinity like this. I figured you had a lot to say about... out there. We have time here. More than I deserve. Even if you don't have much to say about all that, then... we can at least talk one more time."

Maybe he didn't deserve closure, but Levi did.

#naitfall #{ verse: canon } #{ thread: 4 }

[accustiv-archived]

@vanishinq said: ❝  i didn’t survive… i just didn’t die.  there’s a difference.  ❞ / accepting

“ i thought the ghost was just supposed to be a moniker. ” it came out harsher than i meant it to, and i heard the glass in my voice, ready to cut and wound him even further. i could taste it, and i wanted to take it back, to soothe and repair and save. but i couldn’t. there was still too much distance, still too many scars between us for anything i did to ease whatever had happened when i had been gone. i still didn’t know. the broad strokes were clear, of course, casper had been caught in his lies, the chameleon had reacted violently… and then there was nothing, expanses of black where i longed for there to be details, until his arrest. until he had come back to me, completely against his will, in prison, and then again, in the version of him that i looked at now.

but i still didn’t know why he’d stopped trusting me in the first place. why i’d had to be discarded so violently, rather than just abandoned. i didn’t know which would have been crueler.

“ you thrive on being a victim, cas, it’s sick. ” the anger, the frustration, the hurt fell from me in a stream of consciousness that i couldn’t entertain with anyone else. he could hate me if he wanted to, but he would listen to me, i was going to make sure of that. “ you get some perverse pleasure out of wallowing in your own bullshit, your own misery. kit wants to torture you enough as it is, why do you have to revel in it so much? why do you always have to give them everything they want? ” my eyes were starting to sting, hot and pricking as angry tears threatened to spill and betray me completely. because i was still jealous.

“ beau needs to stop telling me to leave them alone, beau needs to stop leaving traces in the house, beau needs to clean me up when they got me so fucked up i can’t even sit upright, beau needs to hide in the bathroom, beau needs to go to prison. ” my voice had started to shake, my chest was heaving with emotion and the desperate desire to not cry. not over kit harris. i couldn’t. “ it was never about me, it was always your stupid twisted game with them. and now what? they’ve scarred you so fucking deeply that they’re all you think about? i'm risking my goddamn life to keep you one step ahead and sometimes it seems like you would rather i just hand you over. fuck, i don’t know how to pull you out of whatever hole you’ve dug for yourself in your head. you’re not a fucking victim. you’re casper reid. you survived. ”

i had to look away, pressing my lips tightly together because i could feel the sob thickening my throat. “ you scarred me, cas, do you ever think about what it feels like to be me? ” but i knew he didn’t, there was no room for me in his mind, no room for anything except the knife and the misery. i pushed past him to grab my jacket, tugging it onto my shoulders, violently. “ if you need me, i'm sure kit knows where to find me. ”

#vanishinq #uhhhhhhhhhhhhh #this is so sad alexa play good 4 u by olivia rodrigo #im so sorry im so sorry im so

[cosmicjoke]

So I just got through chapter’s 51 and 52 of Attack on Titan, and one thing that stuck out to me in 51, other than Levi’s obvious, deep anger with Erwin, which I’ll talk about in a minute, was how Levi made it a point to tell Connie that he’d done a good job after coming back with Hange from investigating his village.  Once again we see here Levi’s immense compassion for other people.  Nobody else really thought to give Connie that encouragement, despite his obvious distress in that moment.  They all were aware that Connie had lost everyone in his village, including his family, so it really demonstrates Levi’s thoughtfulness, once again, for other people and what they’re going through, that he takes the time to say just a few, kind words to Connie here.  

Then of course, there’s the big exchange in this chapter between Levi and Erwin, and there’s so much going on here.  But the first thing I noticed is the shift in Levi’s attitude, after he notices Erwin smiling upon hearing Hange’s theory about the Titan’s being humans.  At the beginning of this scene, Levi is showing Erwin a great deal of concern for his physical state, apologizing to him for him and Pixis showing up to talk, knowing how tired he must still be, saying to Erwin that he’ll understand if he would rather him and Pixis just come back later so he can keep sleeping.  Levi is giving Erwin the option here to deal with all of these new developments that they’re all dealing with later, and that offers a really insightful glimpse into the kind of respect and consideration Levi has for Erwin leading up to this point in the story.

What’s really interesting is the shift in Levi’s attitude here, after he sees Erwin smiling.  Levi starts to try and ask Erwin a question, after Hange’s revelations about the Titans, and he sees Erwin smiling to himself with a glazed, distant look in his eyes, and Levi’s horror is readily apparent.  He figures out almost immediately that Erwin is excited by this news, and Levi’s reaction is one of repulsion.  He even tells Erwin that he’s going to make him sick.  I think Levi’s reaction here is also partly fueled by his own feelings of deep dismay and horror at learning that all this time, he’s been killing other human beings.  So to see Erwin seemingly HAPPY about this revelation must seem particularly grotesque to Levi in that moment, while he’s dealing with his own feelings of guilt and despair and hopelessness.  Levi’s anger here is REALLY obvious, as he asks Erwin if this is the real reason he joined the Survey Corps.  We see Levi’s belief in Erwin starting to erode here, in real time.  Part of Levi’s anger, I think, must also stem from knowing that he’s put his faith entirely in Erwin, followed him with full belief in Erwin’s altruistic intentions, but now he has to face the possibility that his faith has been misplaced, that indeed the very REASON he joined the Corps to begin with, his faith in Erwin and his greater vision, may have been built on a lie.  This coming on the heels of realizing that Titans were actually humans, and he’s dedicated himself to killing them for years.  All of this leads you to really understand Levi’s controlled fury at Erwin in this scene.  When Erwin gets annoyed himself at Levi and tells him to lay off of him, and asks him to show him some pity, Levi says with obvious derision that, yeah, Erwin IS pitiful.  We see later in the scene Levi turn Erwin’s own words back on him, about him being mentally and physically exhausted, almost mocking Erwin with them as he reveals to him that he’s chosen to make the 104th his new squad and had Eren and Historia moved to an isolated location.  Levi’s anger here is really palpable, and it demonstrates the tension I think Levi’s probably always had with Erwin and their relationship.

Levi respects Erwin immensely, and I have no doubt he’d been ready to tell Erwin about his plans for the 104th with a lot more cordiality and willingness to involve him in that decision before Erwin’s motivations became revealed to him here.  But there’s always been that kind of conflict between them too, where Levi was willing to put his faith totally in Erwin’s vision, and in his ability to make the right choices, in order to advance the cause of humanity, but at the same time, felt deeply uncomfortable at times with Erwin’s methods towards achieving that goal, his willingness to sacrifice the lives of so many to that end, often resulting in the deaths of soldiers with no, substantial gain to be had.  He’s deeply aware of Erwin’s ruthlessness in getting the job done (we see that awareness later in chapter 52, when he asks Hange if they should run or kill their enemies before they can strike, and says it’s just like something Erwin would do when Hange says both).  It was Levi’s faith in Erwin, though, and his belief in Erwin’s purity and the righteousness of his cause, that allowed Levi to put his misgivings about Erwin’s methods aside, because he fully believed Erwin’s intentions were only to benefit humanity, and win them back their freedom someday.  So seeing Erwin smiling here, and having that faith in Erwin’s intentions thrown into question, alongside the awful revelation that Titan’s are actually humans, is obviously a pretty devastating blow to Levi’s own sense of balance and place, throwing into doubt what it is he’s been fighting for all this time, whether it was even real or not.  It’s like in one, fell swoop, Levi’s lost any amount of certainty in both what they’ve all been fighting for this whole time, and in the person he had put the most faith and trust in to guide them in the right direction.  I’m not sure how people could miss Levi’s anger towards Erwin here, or the reasons for it.  Levi is shown something in Erwin that makes him seriously doubt whether Erwin actually cares about humanity at all, or people at all.  Erwin appears happy that it turned out that Titan’s were humans, and Levi has no context, no way of knowing WHY Erwin would be happy about that.  He doesn’t know about his father, or the things his father told him, or how his father died.  So to Levi, it must just seem like Erwin is getting some sort of sick joy out of the revelation.  Again, to see something like that in the person you believed in the most, a person you admired deeply and thought of as superior to you, as holding a greater vision than you ever could, would be really, really hard.  It’s like Levi’s hero letting him down in the worst way possible.  

I think this should also be looked at in the context of Levi’s own experiences in life, and how that shaped his world view.  Levi comes from an extremely hard, deprived background, one of extreme poverty and desperation and violence.  That background, that difficult childhood, resulted in a necessary cynicism and jadedness in Levi.  He knows the way the world works, knows how hard life is, and how cruel and ruthless people can be.  He grew up in a world where there was no pretense, no civility or politeness to hide behind.  He grew up in a world where it was kill or be killed.  We see this weary understanding of how things really are later, again, in chapter 52, when Levi is explaining to Hange and the rest that they have two options, because the MP’s and those they work for aren’t going to just give up on getting their hands on Eren and Historia.  He knows they’re only going to try more forcefully and violently to get what they want, because that’s the way the world works, and that’s the way people are.  He also shows his worldly understanding of these sorts of things when he asks Hange how many of Nick’s fingernails they pulled, and knows that Nick likely didn’t talk because they pulled more than one.  It tells us about Levi’s experience and how he’s been exposed to the darker, crueler side of humanity, more than anyone else in that room.

So Levi also understands that if they just wait around, they’ll all eventually be killed.  He understands they can’t be passive here, and have to act immediately.  He impresses that reality unto Hange, who’s still reeling from Nick’s death, and forces her to make a decision as to what their next move should be.  He doesn’t allow her to wallow in her despair, and he does this for the sake of Eren and Historia, and all of them.  Once again, we see Levi being most concerned for the greater good, ready to act however is needed to help the most people.  He knows Hange is hurting, but he knows also that none of them can afford to be, as he says to her, timid.  They have to move.  Well, anyway, my point that I’m trying to make is that Levi’s life experience has forced him to be cynical about other people’s motivations and characters, about concepts of nobility and morality.  To look at other people’s true intentions with a skeptical eye, because he grew up in a cut-throat environment, exposed to deep poverty, trauma and pain, where people no doubt would turn on you, or abandon you in a moment for nothing more than a scrap of bread.  With that in mind, you have to realize that Levi’s faith in Erwin is rather remarkable.  That he’s able to BELIEVE that deeply in another person, to believe in another person’s goodness, and purity of intention, given Levi’s background and the life he’s lived, is extraordinary, and really tells us so much about who Levi really is.  Despite every experience in his life informing him  that he should be skeptical and cynical and mistrustful of people and their intentions, despite his every experience telling him that the world is a cruel, ugly, awful place filled with loss, pain and grief, Levi still wants so much to believe in something better.  To believe in purity of hearts and intentions, to believe in a higher morality and goodness.  And despite all of his life experience telling him otherwise, Levi is able to believe that’s who Erwin is.  A person with a higher, better moral standing, a person with a pure and true heart.  He believes it all the way.  So, to then have that faith, which Levi somehow held onto against all odds and reason, dashed against the rocks in a single, terrible moment of realization, would be horrible.  Levi is someone who wants so much to believe there can be a better world, with better people in it.  And I think Erwin represented that possibility to Levi, for a long time.  And so to learn that his belief in Erwin was, perhaps, too idealistic, to have that skepticism that his life’s beaten into him affirmed, rather than rejected, must have felt like the worst kind of betrayal to Levi, and just a crushing disappointment.

Of course, Erwin later is able to prove to Levi that his faith in him wasn’t misplaced, as he lives up to the ideal Levi saw in him to begin with, with Levi’s help and encouragement.  But that’s a different post altogether!  When I get to that part of the manga, I’ll be positing about it as well.

Also, Hange’s own sense of horrible guilt and remorse in these chapters, both over realizing she’d been experimenting on human’s this whole time, and over Nick’s death, was an amazing parallel to Levi’s.  I think the two of them share so many similar feelings and such a similar depth of feeling over everything.  Always trying to do the right thing, and struggling so much with whether the choices they make are the right choices, or whether any of this is worth the sacrifices they’re forced to make.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #Erwin Smith #hange zöe #meta #thoughts

[probablytenderjourneys]

Jude and Cardan headcanons, taking place during and after Jude's abduction, part 2

After finishing discussing with Orlagh and her people, Cardan watches them go away, the hatred evident in his black eyes. Even Nicasia, who he once loved, brings a wave of sickness that threatens to overcome him. How could she?

Cardan tries to move in a dignified way, to maintain and strengthen his reputation as a King in front of Madoc and the rest of their convoy. It is only when he reaches the entrance to the Palace that he quickens his pace, almost running down the halls, towards Jude's chambers. He feared that when he saw her again, frail and broken, he would take her in his arms and never let her go again. So what if I do? After being tormented by the thought of Jude dead, why should it matter if I finally allow myself to show her what she truly means to me?

He reaches her door and opens it so hurriedly, words half spilling out of his mouth before he even enters the room, only to find the Bomb, and no one else sitting on Jude's bed. 'I came to see her too, says the Bomb, but she isn't here. They took her to Madoc's estate.' Cardan does not say anything, giving the Bomb a tight lipped half smile and a curt nod before swiftly exiting the room, and walking defeated back to his own chambers. He would allow her a day to recover, and if she wasn't brought back to the Palace, he could go to the General's house and demand to see his... his what? Was him seeing his seneschal more important than a father watching over his sick daughter? But he didn't only want to see his seneschal, he wanted to see his commander, his advisor, his mortal, his friend, his Jude. His Jude. He didn't want to see her for what she was to the kingdom but for what she was to him and him alone. Yes, he would go visit the next day.

The next day, he went to see Jude and was quickly dismissed; she's sleeping, and she can't be woken up, they said and because they couldn't lie, he turned around and had a very lonely trip back to the Palace. He'll try again tomorrow, he told himself, but in his heart opened a black hole that felt like it was swallowing him whole.

When he got drunk, and tried to distract his mind with courtiers draped over him, he found that that their touch on his skin felt like he was being burned alive. He sent everyone out of his rooms, got in bed all alone and fell asleep. His dreams, or nightmares, were haunted by Jude. Always Jude.

His attempts to visit Jude were failing miserably; she wasn't well enough yet, or she wasn't awake, or they feared she contacted a mortal disease, or Madoc ordered no one be allowed in his house without caring whether it was the king himself knocking at his front door. But how could Cardan argue when he believed that Madoc was truly worried for Jude's safety?

The High King of Elfhame spent most of his days the same way he did as a child; lonely, fear creeping in his bones and a need to lash out at anyone who came within 2 metres of him. He was miserable, the thought that Jude might simply not wish to see him settling in his mind. Maybe being abducted and tortured was where she drew the line; she simply did not want anything else to do with his court, with politics, with anything. Hell, maybe she'd even go back to the mortal world. Leaving him alone, alone, alone, always so alone.

Turns out, his fears were merely the twisted thoughts of a scared boy. Jude did come back, creeping in his chambers like the little spy she was, hand over his mouth, frightening him in his own bed. As soon as he noticed it was her, he relaxed, hand going to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Where before there was roundness, the toned muscles of a warrior, the firm yet welcoming softness of her mortal body, now he could feel the sharpness of her bones. Frowning, he pulled her in his bed, noticing her laboured breathing. He could not say anything; he who had his wits with him at all times, him with his cruel mouth and even crueler remarks, was speechless looking at her. He touched a finger to her high cheeckbones, and was none the more surprised by their sharpness. It hurt to look at her, to touch her, to think of what she endured, to think of Balekin tormenting her as he once tormented Cardan. What did he do to you? he wanted to ask but found he was too scared to find the answer. Did she hope and hope someone would come for her unitl she dared to hope no more and accepted that she might be forgotten? As if he could ever forget her, erase her from his mind and his heart and his being. As if there could ever be a life without Jude in it.

He soon learned what Madoc's true intentions were and he was so furious he wanted to break the redcap's skull, although he was aware it would be quite impossible. He wasn't even sure if he was more mad at Madoc, for daring to manipulate himself as the King's new advisor, or with himself for not seeing right through Madoc's idiotic plans? He started talking without thinking, and soon safely guarded truth after safely guarded truth spilled out of his mouth, as if out of the depths of his soul. It pained him to see how his vulnerability made Jude look so insecure in what to do and say, realising that she wasn't expecting him to be anything other than cruel.

He was half happy, half angry when the Roach and the Bomb interrupted them. Nonetheless, it was good to see Jude straightening her spine and falling back into her usual demeanor. He wanted to pick her up and spin her around, because this Jude was his favourite- the real Jude, the one who, even when frightened, and weak, could mouth off anyone, roll her eyes and make everyone around her feel small and powerless. Frightening Jude was the one he loved best. And it was good to have some sense of normality back in his life.

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude and cardan #jude's abduction #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #balekin greenbriar #orlagh #nicasia #madoc #cardan's pov #jurdan #jurdan fic #jude and cardan headcanons

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 25, Cassian POV prompt)

Notes: Many of you asked for the POV for when Cassian slept beside Nesta in the most recent chapter... so here you go! Apologies for any typos etc, I’m really tired today! Let me know if the tags don’t work...

Together, Cassian and Rhys trudged back to the bungalow. It was still snowing, albeit less than it had been earlier. White came down in light flurries, the flakes falling from the sky in whirlpools suctioned by the wind.

“Trust it to snow when we’re in the middle of relocating,” Rhys mused as the wind dropped, his voice purposefully light.

Cassian only grunted in response, weaving through the dug out camp fires set into the ground, which leant a lick of warmth and provided hot food for the Illyrians. Cassian tried not to think of the steam cabins set over the hot springs a few miles outside of the camp. Of how warm they’d be on his tired limbs…

A good steam in one the Illyrian steam huts usually undid the tension from Cassian like nothing else, but he'd prefer to scrub away the excess grime from his skin. Whilst Rhys might have magicked away the blood, sweat and dirt from him, Cassian could still feel it coating him like a thick oil. And whilst the thought of sliding into the tub and staying there until it turned cold would normally be the only thing on Cassian’s mind after this kind of long day, all he wanted was to settle himself anxiously into the armchair beside his bed and make sure Nesta was alive and breathing.

She wasn’t in agony at least. That open tether was enough to tell him that the tincture was working. And from the flash of irritation he had received a few moments ago, Cassian knew that she was finally awake.

“It’s time to build housing,” Cassian told Rhys after a long reprieve of silence, pulling his thoughts away from the female in his bed. He tossed the words over his shoulder, ploughing through the snow for the both of them before he met a well-trodden path. “You saw the state of the widows tents up the mountain. This is the time to start anew. To provide them with proper shelter. To start initiatives…”

“I know,” Rhys agreed. “It’s time to find a solution rather than opting for leniency when it comes to the war-lords and how they rule.”

Cassian nodded tightly. “We don’t have the luxury of allowing them free-reign over the camps anymore. And help needs to extend beyond us relocating one camp of widows. What of the other camps? What of the females there? The bastards? The poor?”

He sighed wearily at the situation that was so impossible he did not know where to start. “Nesta would probably have some good ideas. She comes out with things sometimes…” Cassian paused to drag his hands over his face at the same time as he shook his head, “Ideas like that seem to come to her as easy as breathing…”

Rhys nodded again, but it was not tight or dismissive. Wary, perhaps and a little tentative, as if he was weighing up how tightly wound his brother was. “We need ideas,” he admitted, “but right now you need Feyre and I to leave so you can rest.”

He eyed Cassian with a slight tilt of his head. His blue-black hair did not so much as move or ruffle in the wind. “I’ve never seen your siphons drain that quickly,” he observed, staring at the jewel that rested in Cassian’s armoured scales, right in the middle of his chest like an additional heart. The siphon that did not wink or glint in the dark, but remained cold and lifeless.

The drink Frawley had given Cassian had barely been enough to have his magic whispering back through his veins. He needed to sleep for his power to replenish itself. And whilst Frawley had barked at him to drink more tea before the day was out, he had yet to find the time for another mug.

It was a while before Cassian realised he had not responded to Rhys. He had been too stuck in his own thoughts, and by the time he glanced sideways at his brother, they were approaching the front of the stone bungalow.

Rhys was not looking at him. Instead, he was blinking in a way that told him something had just happened down that bond of his.

“Feyre kick you out?” Cassian asked, making his lips twitch upwards. The action alone was difficult and he just barely willed his facial muscles to obey. He knew that the smile did not reach his eyes. His body yearned for sleep in a way that told him he was ravaged. Something deeper than his bones and blood was begging him to curl up on the mattress beside Nesta whilst she slept.

It was a starved comfort Cassian had not known he hungered for with such ravenous intensity until that moment.

“She’s speaking with Nesta,” Rhys replied smoothly.

Cassian did not tell his brother that he had already guessed that. He only let out a soft grunt and levelled his brother with a ‘no bullshit’ gaze. “If you don’t forgive Nesta you will ruin the healing between the sisters.”

Rhys’s violet eyes came to rest on him. His brother opened his mouth and then closed it. “Is this really something to discuss now?”

When you’re raw and exhausted. When you are this protective.

“Probably not,” Cassian admitted, knowing that it could end in fists and he didn’t have the energy. “But if the sisters want to rebuild a relationship, then you need to let any past grudges go. Focus on the present. On the actions that matter now.”

A long silence. Too long. It wasn’t the sort of prolonged pause that was as sharp as a knife, but it held some quality that Cassian could not decipher.

Cassian hadn’t meant it to come out as a criticism barbed with thorns. Had intended to present it as casual fact. It was a truth that Cassian had only fully realised in that moment when Nesta had challenged Rhys in the living room. When Cassian had thought power could fly.

He’d known who he would have protected.

Rhys did, too.

And magic might have flown if Nesta had not been replenishing her power reserves. If Rhys had not seen Nesta save his mates life and wield her magic in such a selfless way. If his brother had not witnessed how Nesta had changed. How her concern for the females was the reason why her voice was fierce, rather than consumed by trauma and stubborn will.

Cassian wondered how different Nesta appeared to Rhys. Azriel could see it. The shadowsinger had grown to like her, Cassian thought. Enough to break his usual silence and interject when there could have been heated words. Azriel had assisted Nesta when she had been in pain rather than remain cold and impassive. Cassian had even spotted the shadowsinger’s lips twitch upwards at Cassian’s territorial behaviour, knowing all too well that it had irritated the hell out of Nesta.

And Rhys… his brother had welcomed Nesta to the Court of Dreams, something he did not do lightly. He had even said he would train her if Azriel was not available.

That was a concession in itself.

Cassian knew what a peace offering that was from his brother. And whilst it had been a stiff gesture, it had been the first thing Rhys had offered Nesta because she was needed and useful, rather than because she was Feyre’s sister. Because she cared about the Illyrians and she had worth amongst the females in a way that none of the High Fae had ever managed to attain.

Many thought Nesta had a heart of ice, but Feyre had been right all along; Nesta’s heart was too full — too aching — that she encased it into an impenetrable cage to protect herself.

Only now was that cage breaking… and without it, Nesta was more powerful, more formidable than ever before. There was no denying it. Cassian had felt it — all of it — when she melted that cage of ice and let everything finally hit her. And there was no denying that Nesta was someone with good intention. Someone who did care about others. She may have been lost for a very long time, but she had finally fought back.

It made Cassian ashamed for things he had said previously. From the minute Nesta had shed a tear for the humans who would not be protected in war, Cassian had known she was capable of more.

Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me understand why, but they do.

Cassian could not have uttered crueler words. Knew what he’d been doing as he’d said them, desperate to get some sort of reaction from her. He had been so successful at reaching her before, but that day he had been unable to pierce that impenetrable, icy tavern. But even though she hadn’t shred him to ribbons, his words had still served a purpose. They had covered up the terrifying fact that he loved her more fiercely than he had ever loved anyone. That most of the time, he couldn't so much as think about her because it hurt too much to know that she wanted nothing to do with him, even after he’d worn his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see.

If Cassian had not brought Nesta back today, she would have died thinking his words to be true. Even as she sacrificed her life for someone so many perceived as unworthy.

“I’m working on it.” Rhys’s words pulled Cassian out of his self-deprecating thoughts.

Nodding shortly, Cassian raised his palm to the wooden door. It clicked beneath his palm and the bungalow hummed to life as he stepped inside.

He was not going to push Rhys now. Another time, yes, but not today.

The bungalow was wonderfully warm. The fire was still blazing silently in the living room, but Cassian barely noticed it. Instead, his gaze flew straight to the bedroom door.

It opened as he shucked off his shoes and knocked the snow from the tread against the doorframe. As he flung the wet snow from his wings that were burning from the cold.

Feyre looked weary and wrung out as the bedroom door clicked shut. She tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace. “She woke for a few minutes,” Feyre told Cassian, “but she’s just falling asleep again.”

“Is she in pain?” Cassian asked, even though he knew it wasn’t half as bad as earlier. Nesta’s walls weren’t back up yet — something he was mercilessly happy about — so he would have known if she was in agony, but it was habit to check. To throw them all off of the scent.

Feyre shook her head. “Not as much as before. She didn’t ask for any more of the tincture.” She rang her hands in front of her hips. She looked nervous. “I told Nesta she could leave, if she wanted to.”

Feyre looked as if she was expecting him to completely lose his temper, but Cassian only nodded tightly. She frowned. “Nesta said she wanted to stay to help, but—”

She stopped abruptly and cocked her head at him. Her brow knitted. “You already told Nesta she could leave, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Cassian replied tersely, stalking over to the fire to toss some logs onto the burner. He fanned out his wings so the heat sunk into the membrane. It felt delicious and he bit back a groan. “A long time ago,” he clarified. “Did you give her the sedative?”

Hazel met blue. Feyre did not look annoyed. To his surprise, her features only softened, as if her heart were aching.

“No,’ she replied with a small shake of her head, “she didn’t seem to need it. She could barely keep her eyes open.”

A tight nod. “Ok. I can watch her.”

It was not true. Cassian would watch her. It was not a choice he was giving Feyre or himself.

Closing the front door behind him, Rhys came over to press a kiss to his mate’s temple. As if he could sense Cassian’s impatience, he asked, “Ready to go?”

Feyre nodded.

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Rhys told Cassian.

“And if you hear from Az?” Cassian asked.

“I’ll let you know,” Rhys said, tapping two fingers to the side of his head.

Then they disappeared into nothing.

***

It didn’t take Cassian long to step into the tub. He had checked on Nesta first and foremost, but she had already been far, far under. Her brow had been knitted in anguish, but when he had rested his palm across her forehead, her features had momentarily smoothed, as if his touch had erased the visions beneath her eyelids.

The water was near scolding but Cassian endured it anyway, allowing the burn to scorch through his skin until he was thoroughly thawed. He stood there for too long, trying to wash away the memory of Nesta’s pale, blood-streaked face as her eyes rolled back into her head.

He was just finishing washing the suds from his hair when a sound pierced through the bungalow.

Cassian heard it at the same time as Nesta’s pain hit him square in the chest, travelling down that bond which, for once, was not clamped shut but wide open.

He was out of the tub before he had the time to think. Was half way to his room before he deigned to wrap the towel he’d grabbed on the way out of the bathroom around his waist. He dripped across the carpet, his hair water-logged and running rivulets down his neck and shoulders... But he didn’t even notice because all Cassian could feel was distress and terror so fierce the sensations were bitter on his tongue.

Bursting into his bedroom, Cassian found the sheets twisted around Nesta’s body. Her brow was creased again and fresh tears slid down her already stained face. But it was the sounds coming from Nesta’s throat that that made Cassian’s already aching heart wrench out of his chest. It sounded animalistic rather than Fae. It was deep, wounding horror and he would give anything to rid her of it.

“Sweetheart,” he called desperately. “Sweetheart, it’s a nightmare. You’re ok.”

But no matter how much he called, he couldn’t reach her.

Balling his hands into fists, Cassian sat down in the armchair and buried his head into his hands. But the sounds didn’t stop. Neither did the tears. It took everything in Cassian not to touch her. He was too scared he would trigger her battle trauma, that she was in so deep that her brain would conjure something he was not. Something threatening.

So he watched helplessly as mist began to seep from her fingers, her magic coating the bed in a pearlescent fog as those noises became truly feral. Called for her to come back to him until his voice was hoarse.

Unable to sit still anymore, Cassian tugged on some clothes before he came to sit beside her on the mattress. He rested his outstretched palm on the blanket, hoping that she would sense him nearby, but Nesta only sobbed harder.  

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice raw from trying to reach her. “You’re safe. You’re ok. You’re having a nightmare.”

He stayed beside her, murmuring comforting words. Clenched his other hand into a fist at his side. Let his wings snap in and out with such agitation they cracked through the air. He didn’t care. There was no-one to witness it anyway.

Cassian knew all to well how fiercely sedatives could clutch you to sleep. It was why he didn’t use sleep tonics. They made his nightmares worse — more vivid. He would rather suffer from too many sleepless nights than live through terrors he could not escape from. And he’d guess that the severe pain from Nesta’s injuries was manifesting into her dreams but the sedative was too fierce to wake her up.

“You’re safe,” he murmured softly. Words he had been saying over and over.

You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re with me. You’re safe.

For a moment, Nesta settled. But then she was moaning again, the sounds torn ragged from her throat as she began to thrash.

Cassian’s blood spiked with panic. Frawley had insisted that Nesta remain as still as possible. That movements to Nesta’s abdomen would not only be incredibly painful, but that they would undo the magic both she and Madja had administered.

And then Nesta started to scream.

It was one of the worst sounds he had ever heard. It knocked the breath from him and the chill that ran through his blood was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Cassian fell to his knees, barely registering the impact as his bones creaked.

“Amore,” he rasped softly in Illyrian. “Nesta.”

His wings extended outwards, furling around her like a protective shell — an instinct buried deep that pulled through his chest until his limbs obeyed. Something built into his DNA that had only been opened for Nesta. As if a key had finally been fitted into a lock and unveiled the most intrinsic part of him. Something only for her.

“Amore,” Cassian said again. The word soft, curling off the back of his tongue like a caress.

The screaming stopped, falling into stifled, suppressed shouts. Nesta’s pain travelled down their twisted of rope; the bond that had been open since Nesta had started to die that afternoon. The agony of it hit Cassian clean in the gut, knocking the breath from him with a whoosh, but he willed everything in him to soothe, pushed back on the pain…

There was a moment’s reprieve where the agony didn’t cut through him. When for a few seconds, Nesta stopped screaming.

Cassian jumped at the opportunity. Reaching deep inside of himself, he felt for that rope which even now, he could not let go of for fear that it would break.

And then he tugged. It was a gentle movement — smooth. More of a nudge than a prod, using just enough pressure for Nesta to feel it… to cut through the nightmares and offer a hand back to the light.

Gradually, Nesta quieted. Screams turned to shouts. Shouts turned to moans. Moans turned to whimpers. Until eventually, Nesta only murmured in her sleep, the sound unbelievably soft in contrast to the blood-chilling screams.

Hardly daring to breathe, Cassian lifted a hand to rest his palm against her forehead. Nesta’s skin was warm — flushed — but when she leant in a little to his touch, his heart beat so fiercely he felt it pulse in his mouth. And knowing how rare the moment was, Cassian indulged himself; allowing his fingers to trace a path down her cheek where before there had been tears.

Only Nesta could look so heart-achingly beautiful in the midst of a nightmare.

Only Nesta could make him lose all sense of himself.

Only Nesta could make him feel this vulnerable. As if even in her sleep, she was witnessing all of him.

This close up, Cassian could see every one of Nesta’s dark eyelashes. The slight upturn at the tip of her nose. The smattering of freckles that were so faint across the bridge of her cheeks, Cassian wondered if anybody but him had ever noticed them.

If she hadn’t rejected him, Cassian might have traced those freckles with his lips and fingers so many times he would know exactly how many there were… Would know what her lips tasted like when she wasn't about to die with him.

Time passed, stretching out far and wide before them.

Cassian wasn’t sure how long he stayed on his knees. What he did know was that Nesta remained settled. He did not move his hand. He continued to brush his thumb over her skin. Continued to soothe down that bond, until her breath evened out and no longer rattled in her chest.

When his legs had long gone numb beneath him and his back ached from leaning over the mattress, he retracted a wing with the hope of easing himself off the floor.

He had barely moved when she started to moan again.

Immediately, he threw a wing back over her. And everything ached inside of him when she settled again. The knowledge that it was him — the safety he provided — that warded off the nightmares.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he soothed gently. “I’m just going to move closer, ok?”

And without stopping to think, Cassian allowed himself to do what he had been yearning to do since before he had arrived back in the bungalow; he crawled onto the mattress beside Nesta and curved his wing over her.

Nesta settled immediately, her head turning on the pillow so it was tilted towards him. He could feel the soft flutter of her breath on his cheek. His heart leapt against flimsy strips of bone, reaching outwards until it beat in tandem with hers. The sound melded into one, filling his ears and making his pulse slow until it was thick and sluggish in his veins.

She was so warm. His body was only just ghosting hers but he groaned a relieved sigh as every muscle relaxed at the heat. At the knowledge that the bond had turned peacefully quiet. That Nesta was safe and unharmed. Content.

And then he slept.

He did not have a nightmare.

Tags: @arin1030 @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta

#embersandlightfic #embers and light #nessianfic #nessian angst #nessianangst #nesta x cassian #nestaarcheron

[mountainvroyce]

♛ → THE VALE presents AXELL ROYCE, the LORD of RUNESTONE. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the BLACKS  would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the TWENTY NINE year old MALE who was RESOURCEFUL & DETERMINED before they saw the first of the flames, is now CRUEL & ABRASIVE  after seeing the last. through the ash, now they struggle to find THE ROAR OF A BATTLE CRY, THE ANTICIPATION OF THE HUNT, AND THE SMELL OF PINE AND SMOKE instead of the remnants of the war of succession.  ( jacob elordi )

BIO

→ axell was the secondborn son of lord royce from his second marriage. from a young age there was nothing axell loved more than having a blade in his hand. not only were the royce's known for their abilities in battle but his mother's family the templeton's were as well. there was a lot to live up to and he wanted to exceed any expectation that was put in front of him

→ when he was fourteen years old he was traveling with his family through the vale when they were attacked by the mountain clan. he was still a young boy but he did his best to hold his own against the attackers. but he saw thier violence. he saw what happened to his mother. she died not long after the attack. that day he swore he would would personally see all the clans burning at his feet. he would see them all killed.

→ he devoted himself to his skills in battle. fought in the war at the first chance he was able to. a young man still but he didn't care. he needes somewhere to get his anger out.

→ time went on and eventually he found himself as lord commander of the vale. something he was proud to have. something he knew his family, his brother could be proud about. for a moment maybe that was going to be enough for him. he could settle into his life and maybe be happy. but no. there was work to be done and a plan that needed to be made

→ he spent months searching out a man who looked like him. until finally he found a baker in a vale city. poor. no name. no one would really miss him right? he was sure to donate some gold to the family to make up for it. he kidnapped the man and brought him up into the mountains. he said a quick prayer to the warrior god (the only one of the seven he actually liked) and killed the man, cutting off his head. no one could know who he was. everyone needed to believe it was him. he dressed him in his clothes and left him where others would find him.

→from there the next part of his plan was in action. he let himself be taken by the clan of the burned men. allowing them to believe they captured a mighty lord of the vale. in truth this was all going accoridng to his plan. it took time but after some time he gained their trust. he let them believe they had persuded him. that he hated the other lords. that he wanted to see the king die. everynight he would lay awake in his bed next to some girl or guy and he would think over his plan. think over why he was doing this. think over what they did to his family. remind himself of his hatred for them. swallow it deep down and ready himself for the next part.

→ he lead them to believe he was returning back to his family as a double agent, ready to betray the king. in truth he had gathered more information on the clans than anyone else ever had. he knew their numbers, their plans. who was the leaders. where they liked to camp. where they liked to raid. he had it all memorized so that when the time was right he could kill them all. he has returned back to his family, ready to take on the next step of his challenge

HEADCANONS → his time with the clans has warped his sense of self in some ways. he is gruffer. crueler. more harsh. he says what is on his mind even if it isn't what people want to hear. he doesn't care about that. he cares about getting what he wants and doing what he has to do.

→ he's always been a bit morally grey. he knows he has a courage to make the choices that other people would never want to make. he thinks himself as brave for being able to do the tough things in life.

→ he will sleep with just about anyone who he fancies. doesnt matter who. peasent, rich, lord, lady, girl, guy. doesn't matter to him. he only cares about one thing and that's the thrill of it all. the thrill of getting someone new in his bed. the chase is the best part.

→part of him longs for rest. he knows when this is all done he can finally rest. but there is too much to do, to much at stake to stop now. rest will come to him one day in one form or another. until then he can't stop himself

→ he deeply loves his brother and father but he has no idea how to express himself. he has been taught from a young age to bottle up those feelings, not to show it. he has little idea how to express to them what he is feeling.

#;;bio #HERE HE IS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

[wafflesandkruge]

have your way with me until you go (zoyalai)

Nikolai and Zoya's morning routines are like clockwork. She wakes him with a drop of stimulant. He makes a witty quip. Neither of them acknowledge what's between them.

So when Zoya shows up late, it's reasonable to assume that nothing else will go as planned.

@grishaverseonline mission 06: free for all

a/n: it’s literally just 2k of pining, pls take it, it’s all i have to offer. meant to be a parallel to the carriage scene at the beginning of kos but it got a bit out of hand 😔 big thanks to @storm-dog-pirate and @mareshes for helping me beta!

ao3

---

When Nikolai woke, it was less surfacing gently from the sea of sleep than being abruptly spat out onto dry land by a monster. He inhaled sharply, his mind instantly assaulted with his surroundings. He was on his bed at the Grand Palace. Chains were once again fastened around his wrists. And an unfairly lovely face was hovering above his, her dark curls brushing his bare chest.

“Zoya,” he greeted with a groan, “how kind of you to grace me with your delightful presence this fine morning. I feel healthier already.”

She barely spared him a glance as she leaned over him to unlock the shackle on his right wrist. He caught a whiff of her hair, the same strangely familiar wildflower scent as always.

“Getting a head start on the flattery, are we?” Her voice was rough, strained. He could see a near imperceptible tremor in her hands as she fitted her key into the lock. It took her multiple tries to get the stubborn thing to turn. Odd, when she’d practically perfected the technique of unchaining a king from his bed months ago. 

He shifted to get a closer look at her. Dark shadows bloomed under her eyes, her brows furrowed as she attempted to unlock the last shackle. Her hair was in sore need of brushing. Saints, had she really emerged from her rooms looking like that? Perhaps she was human like the rest of them after all.

“Late night?” he attempted. “Fun night?”

“Only you would think of fun while facing war on six fronts, my king.” She moved away as soon as the shackle sprang open as if she didn’t want to be near him for any longer than necessary.

He sat up and watched her retreat into the sitting room, rubbing at his sore wrists. Had he done something to offend her recently? Besides daring to breathe the same air as her, naturally. He pondered the question as he washed and dressed mechanically.

When he emerged from his room, he found Zoya hovering in front of a gilded mirror with a ribbon in her hands. As he watched, she attempted to pull her hair into something more manageable than its current frazzled state, but each time she’d miss a strand or the knot would become undone as soon as she dropped her hands. His eyes met hers in the mirror. The dark smudges under her eyes only seemed to make them bluer than ever. An untold secret seemed to lurk behind their depths, but she’d probably sooner jump out the window than confide in him.

“You’re a mess, Zoya.”

“Says the man who was just chained to his bed.” There wasn’t nearly enough venom in her voice to reassure him of his general’s wellbeing. He crossed the room and plucked the ribbon from her hands. She made no move to stop him.

“You know, I once had a promising future as a hairdresser,” he remarked idly as he took a strand of her hair in his hands after a moment’s hesitation. It was impossibly silky, and if he’d been wearing his gloves, he was sure it would have slipped right out of his hands. The dark scars on his fingers were hidden among the loose curls, and for just a moment, he could pretend he was just another man. But Zoya would never be just another woman to him, would she? He used his fingers to carefully comb out the worst of the tangles. 

“Is that so?” The words were a challenge, or perhaps an invitation. He could never quite tell with her.

“Girls would line up at the door when they heard I was in town just to get the newest styles done by me,” he boasted. It was true, to an extent. By “girls,” he’d meant Dominik’s two little sisters, Faina and Polina who had adored their brother’s mysterious friend. They’d forced him to arrange their hair just like the ladies at court, and because he never did anything only halfway, he’d bribed one of his mother’s servants to teach him just so he’d have something to delight them with. For a moment, he could hear Dominik’s warm laughter as his sisters eagerly showed off their pretty braids. 

Some prince you are, he’d said with a grin as the two of them tore into his mother’s sweet pastries. All you’re good for is making the ladies happy.

Not just the ladies, Nikolai had wanted to say, but Dominik had already turned to yell at his sisters for playing too close to the river.

But now Dominik was gone, and all he had left was the broken country that had failed him. And Zoya, always Zoya. 

His fingers skimmed the warm skin at her neck as he pulled back another strand of hair. Zoya was barely moving, only letting out the occasional hiss when he accidentally pulled too hard. As he plaited her hair, his eyes wandered down to the collar of her kefta. It was slung unusually low this morning, and from his vantage point, he could see the tip of one of her scars, the paler strip of skin just visible beneath the fur collar. He couldn’t help thinking about how easy it’d be to lean forward and press a kiss to the back of her neck. Would she pull away? He swallowed and averted his eyes. Saints, this had to be some game of hers, didn’t it? Sometimes he wondered if the little things she did- sending looks his way that from anyone else, would have been a reason for scandal, or letting her fingers linger on his as she handed him something- were on purpose. But he'd heard the stories of the people she’d toyed with when she was younger and crueler. She played for the sake of the game, not the prize, and if the stories were true, she had yet to lose. He was never quite sure if she was playing the same game with him, but if she was, her winning streak wasn't going to be broken. He blinked and focused on Zoya’s reflection again.

“Zoya.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

As expected, she crossed her arms and scowled into the mirror. “Nothing. Hurry up so we can be on our way, or people will talk.”

“People already talk. Why do you look like you stayed out drinking with Genya and didn’t get a wink of sleep?” He pressed the issue, not sure if she would tell him anything at all. Even after three years of rebuilding a country together, there were still some lines Zoya refused to cross. 

“Maybe I did go out drinking with Genya.” Her voice was curt, clipped. He didn’t believe her for an instant.

“Without inviting me? How treasonous.” 

“You were unwanted.” 

At least her poisonous tongue was back. He supposed it was better than nothing. His braid finished, he tied it off with a neat bow. “There,” he said softly, admiring his handiwork. He let his hands linger in her hair for a moment longer before pulling them back. “Now you look a fraction more presentable.”

In the mirror, Zoya’s lips quirked upwards. “What an excellent valet you make.”

He was instantly reminded of that night in the carriage, Zoya snug in his arms as they played the role of sated lovers. She’d seen him at his worst, and yet she was still here every morning to wake him and face the country together. He supposed he ought to have returned the favor somehow, but what did he have left to give? Somehow, Zoya didn’t seem like someone who’d have use for his eternal gratitude or respect. 

“Your buttons are done wrong,” he muttered as he caught sight of her kefta in the mirror. Either she’d had a very good night, or a very bad night, but he couldn’t decide which was worse. He spun her by the shoulders and hesitated for a moment before kneeling. Vasily’s voice echoed in his head as he refastened the first of the pearl buttons. A king never kneels, brother. But his brother had never met Zoya Nazyalensky.

He glanced up at her, but her gaze was faraway, her arms crossed over her chest as she worried at her bottom lip. 

“A king’s kneeling in front of you, shouldn’t you be a bit more excited?” he quipped, somewhat desperate to get a normal reaction from her. 

She raised a brow. “I’ve had plenty of men kneel before me in the past. Why would a king be any different unless he offers me a country as well?”

He moved on to the buttons over her stomach. “If I recall correctly, I already did. You weren’t thrilled.”

She stiffened. He rose to his feet again as he finished the buttons over her chest. The pearls gleamed in a neat line down the front of her kefta, nestled in the whorls of silver embroidery. He could spend hours tracing the patterns with his eyes, and he often did during particularly trying Triumvirate meetings. He resisted the urge to trace one of the spirals with a finger. Finally, he got to the buttons at her neck.

"Do take care next time to not look like..." His voice trailed off as his eyes left the saints forsaken buttons for a moment to find Zoya's exquisite face entirely too close to his. Even exhausted, her features still spoke of regality and poise, her blue eyes bright and defiant as they stared right back at him. Nikolai's eyes tried to return to the task at hand, but they met a distraction on the way, namely, her lips. Saints, her lips. He swallowed hard and tried to force his fingers to move. 

"Like what?" she demanded. 

"Like..." 

A girl in need of kissing. 

"...a toddler who tried to dress herself," he finished weakly. Then, as if his hand had a mind of its own, it drifted upwards and swept an errant lock of Zoya’s hair back behind her ear. His palm brushed her cheek and hovered there. He could scarcely breathe as if her closeness had sucked all the air from the room.

Zoya peered up at him from under her lashes, her gaze inscrutable. Then she sighed and let her cheek rest against his palm for the briefest heartbeat. Her warmth had barely registered before she was stepping back again, her general’s mask firmly back in place as if nothing had happened. Nikolai tried not to let it sting too much as he tucked his hands into his coat pockets. 

“Anything else for me to fix? A broken shoe? A lonely heart?”

The last one was a jest, but Zoya’s lips pursed as if he’d caused a problem she’d have to fix later. “No. Let’s go. The Triumvirate has been waiting long enough.”

She turned to go, then paused halfway to the door. A foolish seed of hope took root in Nikolai’s heart, only to be trampled with her next words.

“Don’t forget your gloves.”

She swept out of the room without another backwards glance, the scent of wildflowers and thunderstorms left in her wake. 

He would play her game, he decided as he found his gloves and slipped them on. Having his heart broken by Zoya Nazyalensky was still preferable to the impossibility of staying away from her. 

#y e a r n i n g #anyways i'm still screaming in the distance about nik kneeling for her #there was like an alternate ending where it was sadder but am asked for an almost kiss so #be grateful #grishaverseonline #kos #king of scars #kos writing #shadow and bone #nikolai #zoya #zoyalai #dominik #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #my writing

[ddarker-dreams]

🎀 scarlet ribbons.

ITS SELF INDULGENT FRIDAY BOIS !! time for scarlet ribbons headcanons that i’ve been working on in between commissions, this is essentially just a reverse harem ...  there’s no yandere here for once, just some vibes... click here for an explanation ! the reader described here is the same in all the scenarios. i’m using she/her pronouns for this reader.

Bruno Bucciarati;

He forms a special kind of attachment to you, seeing as you’ll be the second person to join his team. You won over his compassionate heart, preventing a much crueler fate. As a foreign exchange student, you had taken out a loan with Passione to complete your education. The problem is, the egregious amount of interest being too much for you to pay back on time. Bucciarati had been ordered to collect your debt. Instead of following through with his orders, he used his favor with Polpo to let you pay back your debt by working for Passione under his leadership.

Appreciates the dynamic and resolve you bring to the group. While he tries his best not to show favoritism to any members of his team, you’re someone he always looks out for extra much. Not because he thinks of you incapable, but because his care for you runs deep after knowing you for years. He’s definitely going to catch onto the others holding similar feelings for you though.

Acts a bit different towards you in one on one scenarios, versus when the others are around. He’s more relaxed when it’s only the two of you, speaking of matters not relating to work and checking up on your well being. Bruno realizes he could listen to you for hours, enjoying your unique perspective. He also finds your foreign accent endearing, and has mentioned it to see how you blush at the compliment.

Super sweet with you, always has looked out for your best interest. He’s your go to when you feel stressed about your situation, providing the support you need, since he’s the only person aware of your circumstances. Bruno is reassuring, helping you in the moments the debt to the organization feels impossible to overcome. He’s offered to help pay for part of it, but you always refuse, feeling grateful enough to him as is. It pains him to see you hurting, but he does anything he can to make you feel better. Always pays for your meals though, no matter how much you raise a fuss about it. 

Giorno Giovanna;

There’s a certain warmth in you that he wasn’t sure what to think of at first. Giorno is an astute individual, making observations from afar, watching you joking and smiling with the rest of the team. He eventually comes to the conclusion that your presence fills his stomach with butterflies, seeing your more lighthearted approach to life. There’s something intoxicating about it, and he’ll jump for any opportunity to spend time with you much to the annoyance of everyone else, they already had enough competition wtf.

He’s a coy little shit at times. Giorno sees how the others look at you, especially how obvious Narancia and Mista are. When they get defensive over how much Giorno is talking to you, he’ll just flash a faux innocent smile and ask what the problem with it is. It’s more effective on Narancia, who just ends up sputtering before slinking away in defeat. Mista can kinda deflect the accusation better, though there’s still a blush on his face. Giorno knows what he’s doing lmaoo

It infuriates Abbacchio how obvious he is with you, like, the audacity of this man. Just swinging into Bucciarati’s team, trying to woo you away. Giorno is always asking for your opinion on how to proceed with certain things, even if his mind has already been made up. Anything just to talk to you. Most likely going to receive Abbacchio’s scorn the most for this, especially since Giorno will lean closer to you when you’re answering his questions. Giorno is just going :) , meanwhile Narancia is furiously taking notes. (”Okay, so if I ask [First] about this, I have an excuse to get closer to her...!)

He did strongly in school, maybe not as well as Fugo but is definitely academically gifted. So that means when he enters the picture, Fugo has some Competition for the English speaking buddy role. Giorno can understand most simple phrases and is capable of following the conversation, occasionally interjecting when he feels confident enough. Fugo might try and make his conversations with you more complicated because of this, since he’s petty and wants all your attention. You’re meant to be his English speaking buddy >:( !!

To be honest, Giorno’s not really sure what he’s doing, despite the suave impression he gives. Giorno has charisma, sure, but this is all very new to him. He’s still learning as he goes, and pays very close attention to how everyone else interacts with you. Anything to see your preferences, so he can use it to his advantage later. Has a large mental file on you, that comes in handy. He isn’t so much flirty, but more seeking out your company and thoughts on things.

Guido Mista;

Poor Mista almost friendzones himself in a way... he doesn’t mean to, but he wants to warm up to you in his own way!! And that way is through joking around and a lot of “friendly” banter. The friendly banter is more like thinly veiled flirting. He tries so hard to act cool and mysterious around you, like a Clint Eastwood character. Ends up being super goofy, though it works in his favor since he gets to see your cute smile!!! Victory!! 

Mista has no shame. He’ll show up outside your apartment, food in hand, saying he wants to come over and hang. He even lets you pick the movie if that’s what you want to do!! A true honor, since Mista is willing to sit through stuff he wouldn’t normally be interested in all for the sake of winning you over. <33 

Probably tied with Narancia for the most Unfortunate Mishaps to occur when attempting to woo you. Some favorites include, but are not limited to: when he tried giving you flowers but they kept making him sneeze, that time he was leaning against your door frame and fell over, and basically anything that happens when the Pistols come out. They wanna be his lil wing men, but they keep screwing him over... :< 

“[First]!! [First]!! We’re bored, come hang out with us instead!!!!” You’ll end up with a flurry of Pistols swirling around you very often, putting Mista’s affection for you on full display. It irritates Fugo the most, he almost wants to smack them away like they’re flies lmao. They might start sweatin’ when they see Fugo’s eyebrow twitch, the Stand often interrupting your conversations with the blonde. Mista tests his patience for sure. 

Pannacotta Fugo;

A bit of a typical tsun towards you at first. He’s all acting high and mighty, huffing about the newest member of the team not being as bright as him. In reality he just thinks you’re vvv cute, and doesn’t know how to process it. You greet him and his brain just kinda short circuits, and he gives a standoffish insult before running off to hide his blush. Bruno would find it endearing if not for his feelings for you lmao.

How he gets over this initial stump at the start of your relationship is by acting like you need his help. Especially if you stumble over any Italian words, namely Naples lingo being more difficult to master. He takes it upon himself to help you out... in reality he just really wants to spend more time with you. Also, seeing you stumble over words is precious, he tries not to tease you about it though. Does occasionally...

You end up being roommate at the start!!! To save money, but it’s whatever, who cares about the practical reasoning behind it. What matters is that he gets to spend even more time with you than the others. The problem is that Narancia and Mista make a point to come by often, which he finds to be very irritating. They even crash at your shared apartment at times, but because of how messy they are, don’t get an invitation to live permanently. Fugo is smug about how you picked him due to his cleanliness >:)c

English speaking buddies !! He might not be fluent in it, but he’s better at it than everyone else. Also a lot more capable of learning it, just for the sake of impressing you. Gets this very pleased look on his face when you two speak in simple English, Narancia staring over, pouting for being left out. It’s like a special connection or something, not that Fugo would ever admit to saying that to you. He’s flexing his academic muscles. 

Narancia Ghirgha;

Anyone could look over at Narancia and see his huge heart eyes for you. You like the same foreign music as him!! You can speak another language!! He wants to learn English from you, and keeps asking. Sometimes butchers the pronunciation but god it’s so cute who cares. Teach Narancia one phrase and he’s gonna be saying it nonstop for the rest of the week. Fugo, the only other member to understand English on a decent level until GioGio, is gonna be miserable whenever this happens. That’s his thing with you! Why can’t Narancia get something else, smh ...

If you recommend him a song he will not stop listening to it. Also expect a lot of discussions about different artists, mostly hip hop ones when Narancia is leading the conversation. He thinks it’s so cool you understand what they’re saying!! Is gonna ask you to translate them a lot. He kinda just stares at you, mouth agape when you’re singing along, like woah!! His crush is so talented. 

His most treasured moments with you, is when you recommend one another music, and share headphones. Sometimes you just bob your head to the rhythm, or sing along. Whatever the case, he gets to be close to you, and his brain is practically turning to mush at the fact your thighs are touching. 

Fugo did him dirty once in the past. Before Narancia realized he had Competition for your affections, he went to Fugo, asking how to compliment you in English. He should’ve known by how Fugo was staring at him with the most malicious smirk that he made a mistake. The next day, when meeting up at Libeccio, he came up to you. Chest puffed out, proud after a night of practicing his phrase. Then proceeded to say to you in English, “I am a fucking idiot!!!!” looking all smiley and excited. Needless to say, you almost spit out your food and laughed about it for a long time. Narancia has been planning his revenge on Fugo ever since...

Narancia follows you around like a lost puppy at times, but he’s a lot of fun to hang out around!! He’ll buy you gelato, and even lets you have a bite of his food if you ask. No one else has this special privilege. There is a time you offered to let him try a sip of your drink, and he almost melted. All his brain could think of is, indirect kiss, indirect kiss!!!! One of the best moments of his life tbh. 

Leone Abbacchio;

Abbacchio put a lot of effort into distancing himself from you. Why do you smile so much?? It makes him uncomfortable being around you, someone who is basically sunshine stuffed into a human body. It reminds him of all his shortcomings, which he feels he has no shortage of. But when you make the initially irritating decision to keep speaking to him, only giving space when you felt he really needed it, it won over his little grinch heart. 

He’s been wrapped around your finger ever since. Unlike the other bumbling buffoons who are tripping over themselves to get an ounce of your attention, he plays it cool. More of a Bucciarati approach to things. Asking about your interests, letting you do most of the talking so he has no chance to embarrass himself (like *cough* Narancia *cough*).

Next to Fugo, is most likely to call other members out on their nonsense. He wouldn’t dare do so for Bruno, but everyone else is fair game. The main victim to this treatment is Giorno. Abbacchio might even offer some “advice” to him, giving false information all under the guise of assisting Giorno’s pursuit of you. He takes a more hands off approach on everyone else. 

He doesn’t want to invite you over to his place because of how dreary it is, so he has to find other ways to get one on one time with you. This mostly happens by talking about things no one else finds of interest to you, namely makeup or other fashion things. 

You are the only person who gets to call him any nicknames, the one you lean towards typically being Abba. Narancia once made a mistake of calling him this, only to earn a very threatening glare. When you do it though, he has to push down the urge to smile. How cute!! 

Trish Una;

Gay rights time . Trish looks at you and immediately thinks wow, perfect girlfriend material right there. Still acts a bit reserved at first, considering her complex situation and how she’s still piecing it all together in her heard. Since you’re the only other girl on the team, she gets the benefit of Bucciarati assigning you to be extra close to her. All according to plan heheh >:) 

When she flirts, she goes all in. Asking about what kind of perfume you wear, your favorite shade of lipstick, what kind of outfits you like the most. All of it is under the pretense of getting to know you better, and while she does enjoy that aspect of it, she might start adopting some of the things you find appealing. She is 100% gonna ask to borrow your shirts and makeup, and extends the same offer to you. 

Trish is far more playful with you than the others, who all just kinda stare at the interactions like ??? When you were her bodyguard, she always subconsciously went to sit down next to you. No one else on the team can say anything, since she’s the boss’ daughter after all !! She considered you more of a distraction from her anxiety inducing situation at first, seeing as you had shared interests to speak about. Over time, your doting nature over her won out. 

Would be pissed if you ever got hurt trying to defend her. You might joke around about how you’re her bodyguard, not the other way around. Trish just can’t bear the thought of losing someone important to her, after all she’s already lost. 

Her phone background is a selfie the two of you took, even after she eventually distances herself from Passione to advance her singing career. Expect lots of texts messages, checking up on how you’re doing!! Trish unfortunately has a busy schedule, that requires a lot of traveling for her concerts and other bookings. Though anytime she is near Naples, she’s messaging you and asking to meet up. <33 

#Bruno Bucciarati #bruno x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #Giorno Giovanna #giovanna giorno #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #fugo panacotta #fugo x reader #fugo panacotta x reader #guido mista #mista guido #mista guido x reader #mista x reader #narancia x reader #Narancia #narancia ghirga x reader #leone abbacchio #leone abbachio x reader #trish x reader #trish una x reader #trish una #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #vento aureo x reader #vento aureo #part 5 x reader #my stuff #scarlet ribbons #non yan

[hetalia-reacts]

Hi, I'm new to the hetalia fandom. And I was wondering can you do soft platonic Yandere Allies and/ or Axis that just discovered a new colony ( I recently just watched Kolkol's video about how countries are born as babies ). So what is the Allies going to do when they find the new baby ( their a tiny newborn btw ) country peacefully sleeping in a pretty flower field. And when the new country wakes up, they start squealing happily and star reaching out to them with a cute gummy smile. Now the countries has new baby sister.

I like this idea~ Also welcome to the fandom! I’m an old fan back from the dead for season 7 ^^

America

Alfred was kind of lost at first when he saw a literal baby laying in a field of flowers

I mean even as a yandere he would never do something like leave a child to die

This is about when he realizes that maybe the kid wasn’t actually a human child, but the new colony he’s heard about

It’s 100% likely that Alfred has never seen a baby country before, not a newborn and not a chibi one either

The closest he’s seen to a baby country was probably Sealand

Alfred was about to pick up the kid and pawn them off to someone else because he’s got important things to do, but they opened their eyes and looked right at him

And then the kid smiled?? Reaching out for him??

You could literally hear his psyche snap

Alfred decides then and there that no one would be getting a hold of this kid other than him

He really changes more than he ever has when he has his yandere moments

Alfred become exactly what this kid needs, a responsible big brother that protects and teaches them, and by god does he do his job

This child will never know sadness, yes even if Alfred is a yandere and has his more violent moments where he basically barricades the child inside he could never truly hurt them

No one will ever lay a hand on them without facing the consequences

I also suspect that because this child is well, a baby, and will never be a love interest to him, Alfred will allow the child to leave and be somewhat free once they get older and can care for themselves

His condition though is that they have to call him and visit him every so often and tell him everything, even about the guy that bumped into them without apologizing 2 weeks ago

Canada

Matthew is very confused at first

I mean what kind of monster leaves a defenseless newborn out in a field of flowers?

It’s only when he sees the child does he realize they aren’t human but in fact the new colony that was near Canada

He never planned to not raise this child, I mean it was near him and he’d be damned if he was letting Alfred care for this baby instead

However, the baby finally opened its eyes and immediately started smiling and laughing at him, even trying to grab onto him

Matthew kind of gets a dark aura around him, if anyone were to have seen him at this moment they probably wouldn’t even recognize him

It’s at this moment he decides to be this baby’s big brother forever, to protect them, to keep them away from war and everything else that could hurt them even at his own expense

Matthew doesn’t change much, he’s already very responsible and he knows the basic baby care

But his attitude is different around others now

Unlike Alfred who would keep the baby away from others Matthew will at the very least show them to those he trusts, so France or Cuba, maybe even England too

He wouldn’t hesitate to snatch them up or even yell at whoever is holding them too long or making them cry

Matthew won’t let the child go far once they grow up

They may not have to live with him, but they aren’t going to leave for their country by themselves or live in a completely different province than him

He just has to protect the baby, even when they aren’t a baby anymore,

he will even lose his polite Canadian facade to protect them

England

This isn’t Arthur’s first rodeo

he knows from the moment he sees the baby in the flowers what happened and what it means

And what it means is that he’s a big brother again

Already without even getting close to the baby does he decide to kill anyone who would dare hurt them or take them away

But when he does get closer and they wake up giggling and reaching for him

Oh boy is he all the more smitten and determined now

The baby will likely never see anyone other than him or ever even learn about anyone other than him and themselves

Arthur is afraid they’ll choose someone over him and leave him all alone again

so he just refuses to tell them anything other than the edited version of British history and the baby’s history

He will fight and destroy anyone who comes to see the baby or tries to tell him he’s acting insane

He just doesn’t buy it, this is normal big brother behavior, it’s his duty to protect and shield them from the world

As stated before the baby will likely know nothing other than him when they grow up, they won’t be allowed to leave either

He’ll make up any excuse to keep them inside

Kind of like a Tangled situation where he tells scary stories of the outside to make them fear ever leaving his house or its perimeters

France

Just like Arthur, he knew the second he saw the child that it was no ordinary human baby

Francis was going to take care of them regardless of what or who the baby was

He was content and already falling in love with the baby while it was peacefully sleeping

But then they opened their eyes and squealed in happiness at seeing him!!

Francis’ yandere side becomes more apparent after this point

He’s also one of the few who would raise the baby to call him papa or dad, while he likes being big brother he feels it’s different in this situation since he’s going to raise them from their newborn state

The baby will only see people Francis approves of, people he knows won’t steal the baby away from him or convince him he wasn’t stable enough to raise them

So Canada, Monaco, and Seychelles

England will never even know of the child, Francis can’t trust that he won’t try and fight him for the baby

He will tell the baby everything, the child will grow up knowing the world, but Francis twists some things to boost himself and his history up so that his child will always hold him in high regards

The baby will never lift a finger growing up, Francis will do everything for them

Clothes, accessories, decor, entertainment, food, pets, anything the child asked for would be placed at their feet

That’s kind of Francis’ plot to keep the child with him forever

They won’t want to leave and live on their own if they don’t know how to do anything without him

But he would let them leave if they really wanted to, they would have to live close by though

He needs to come and visit them as often as he wants and possibly figure out who he needs to get rid of if his baby ever gets hurt

Russia

While I don’t think Ivan has had any experience seeing or raising a newborn nation he knows what the baby is

He’s concerned though, this child is a new colony more than likely near his home, so it must be freezing out here for the little thing

He feels for it, his yandere side is angry and protective for the small baby, how could Mother Nature just birth them in such a cold and unforgiving place

He plans to keep the baby after holding them, he becomes attached just like that, I mean they were so cute sleeping like that totally unaware of everything

Ah but then they open their eyes and reach out for him, laughing and happy to see him

His crueler side agrees that anyone and everyone must suffer if they attempt to steal his little sunshine away

Even Belarus won’t scare him anymore when it comes to his new little sibling

Since Russia is known to not have friends no one will be seeing the baby, and Belarus might catch a glimpse but will otherwise not be allowed to ever interact with them

Lithuania might be the only one allowed to ever see the baby actually, Ivan likes him the most and if he were to come over he would allow Lithuania the honor of meeting and even holding you

He just better be careful

Ivan will protect them from everyone, even his own sisters

The baby won’t grow up knowing anything about the world other than it is cruel and unforgiving to people like them

Ivan will make sure that the child depends on him and him alone as a provider and protector

He won’t let them leave his house, the baby, the colony, their people, it’s his, and he promises to take good care of them

Everyone who gets close to the child will ultimately disappear if they seem to begin liking them more than Ivan, and no one is allowed to be a big brother or even sister other than himself

China

Yao of course knows a baby country when he sees one

This was the perfect spot, after all, a nice flowery field with no human town or village nearby

Perfect for nurturing a newborn country and also incredibly unlikely that it was a living human newborn

When he gets close enough to see them fully his yandere possessive side is already going crazy, he wants to protect them and be their big brother more than he wants to breathe

And it doesn’t help any when they finally wake up from sleeping and excitedly reach for him

Yao feels so loved at that moment

He decides only a few will see the new baby, Japan, Vietnam, and maybe South Korea

These are people that probably won’t do much to stop him from raising and being possessive over the baby

Japan and Vietnam surely won’t start a war to stop him and he won’t mind any rude comments they may make towards him since he will just cut them off from his life and South Korea wants his approval so if anything he’d support Yao’s decision

The baby will grow up sheltered, only hearing the good things about China and Chinese history

he will teach them very little about other Asian cultures and probably nothing of Western cultures

The only exception was if their culture was considered Western, then he would teach only their western culture to them that approved of

The baby was also never going to get the option to leave

Yao will raise them so they can be strong when he isn’t there but he won’t raise them to be completely independent

Surprisingly though, he would let them live on their own, even in their own country, when the time comes, but they will never truly be free

they will always be a part of China and he will make sure of it

Germany

Ludwig is also very clueless as to what the baby is

I mean, obviously a baby, but it’s strange how someone left them here considering it was quite a ways away from the nearest town and this baby didn’t look old enough to be more than a few days old

He will eventually realize that they were a colony that popped up near Germany

This is where his possessiveness starts, they were his colony in his mind and he was going to be their big brother

Ludwig gets really hooked however when they open their eyes from sleeping and make such cute happy noises he can’t help but become scarily possessive and protective over them

No one but a few of the other Germanic countries will see the child

Prussia is a given, though Ludwig is not afraid to threaten, reprimand, or cut him off for anything dangerous or harmful he may do to the baby

And Austria and Hungary will see his new sibling, though he will be keeping a close eye on Hungary as she is the biggest threat to taking them away from him

The baby will grow up cared for and knowledgeable but will follow a strict way of life

They aren’t to mock him or others, they must exercise and train, they must study history and learn about the past both their own and others, Ludwig values intelligence and strength and wishes them onto his sibling

He will not tolerate anyone messing with them however, even if they become strong or stronger than him he will always protect them in the long run since he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty for revenge

Ludwig would let the child leave when they got older, out of everyone he is the least possessive when they grow up

His yandere tendencies seem to have only been strongly attached to baby them and while he would certainly destroy anyone who messed with them, he isn’t as possessive as he used to be, just protective now

Italy

Feliciano knows what that little baby in the flower field is

I mean, he was once one and Grandpa Rome often told him about when he found him and his older brother

He wasn’t sure if he could raise the baby though

He knows he isn’t super strong, not the best role model sometimes too, so he planned to see if someone like Austria or Spain would want to raise them

That all changed when they opened their eyes and immediately reached out for him in happiness

His more possessive yandere self couldn’t help but get immediately enamored by their charm

Since Feliciano got attached and he’s yandere, he becomes stingy with the baby

No one gets to see them, not Austria, Hungary, especially not Germany, Japan, or even Romano would be allowed to see the baby

Feliciano feels like they would outshine him, if he allowed the baby to look at them and see how much more capable they were he knew they wouldn’t stay with him

Because while he could and will kill for the child, he can’t fight fairly or intimidate anyone like the others could

He would teach them everything about Italy though! And of course their own culture too

But he would leave out everything else and always avoid teaching them about anyone else

The child would also be spoiled, Feliciano is similar to Francis in that aspect

He just wants them to be happy and to rely on him

They probably would never get to leave his house though, he really is stingy and really good at manipulating them into staying

Feliciano just really wants to be depended on for as long as he can get them too

Japan

Kiku knew what this child was

I mean, they obviously weren’t a human as they surely would’ve died at this point or even be crying hysterically for help

He had no plans to raise them, yandere or not, he’s still not the fondest of touch and them being a child didn’t help as they would not understand the concept of personal space or not wanting to be touched

So he was about ready to phone China or even Germany for help

But before he could do anything the baby woke up, smiling and cooing at him as if they were waiting for him and loved him already

You can hear his last shred of non-yandere sanity and rationality snap

He immediately becomes protective of them

They would be his little colony, he would take care of them and their people and he would make sure there was never any problems

No one would see them and they would never be allowed to make human friends either

He would isolate them from everyone, even to the point where he ruins his own progress of coming out of his shell just so they can isolate themselves together

He will make sure the child comes to know the world as a lovely and beautiful place, but one that they should never see without him

His sibling becomes spoiled, but unlike Italy and France, the child isn’t going to be waited on or just simply given everything

They will be spoiled by everything they could ever want but it’s only if they behave

No mentioning leaving or visiting places unless he brought it up and they must be respectful

Kiku will not be the big brother or someone who doesn’t know at the very least basic manners and respect

The child won’t be leaving when they grow up either, if anything Kiku would’ve successfully discouraged them from wanting to be social and molded them into basically a mini him

Romano

Lovino unlike Feliciano probably did not ever get told how he came to be or what a newborn colony/country looks like

So he definitely thinks someone just left a human baby in some flowers

Eventually, it will click that hey, a new colony appeared, a baby in a flower patch far away from any humans but relatively close to Southern Italy, ah it’s a baby country

Lovino most definitely won’t want the baby at first, he’s got some...other...priorities and some issues

He wants to call Spain asap and get the kid somewhere relatively safe

But as he’s walking away with the kid it opens its eyes and reaches out for him happily squealing

Any rationality Lovino may have had is gone now, everything his yandere side craves, love, affection, dependency, it’s all this child could give him by being his little sibling

As seen, he wants to be praised by his brother so this baby is like his second chance, his saving grace to be successful and a hero in someone’s eyes

Because of this the child will never meet anyone, he can’t afford for them to meet Feliciano or Spain because he knows deep down they would certainly like them more than him

Lovino will teach them about Southern Italy, about their culture, and maybe even about some Northern Italian and Spanish culture and traditions but under the guise that it was actually his

He won’t want this child to know anything but him and his house, no friends, no family other than him, he would make the child a recluse

He’s not necessarily the nicest sometimes, he’s prone to aggravate easily and he hates when they mention outside or seeing other people so sometimes he can come off as a little mean

But he always apologizes to them and makes it up to them since he wants them to be happy and to love him

The child won’t be allowed to be independent and leave, Lovino really will do anything to keep them together because he really doesn’t want to lose them or their love

Prussia

Gilbert is old let’s face it, he knows a newborn country when he sees one

I mean he’s likely helped raise a lot of Germanic countries and states before so this is nothing new

He obviously wants to be the baby’s new older brother, he doesn’t need any more convincing or thinking on that matter

It’s just when the baby did wake up and start squealing and reaching out for him, Gilbert realizes this won’t be the same as raising Germany

He can instantly feel the deep connection, the deep need to protect and shelter them for the rest of time

The possessiveness to not let anyone see the baby or take their attention away from him is immense

So that’s what he does

He stops relying on Germany, moves out, and forbids anyone and everyone from ever entering or coming to his home

He can't afford for this child to meet anyone else, he knows he’s no one’s favorite in the end and they would pick someone else

He knows this baby would choose Germany, Austria, or Hungary over him in a heartbeat so he won’t give them the chance

He teaches the child about Prussian history only, he wants his new sibling to be raised on his same values and culture

He wants them to feel a kinship with him and him alone

He will also isolate them from everyone since no one is coming and he would never let them anyways

he puts his own mind at ease by telling them scary stories about war, wars like he’s been in so that they will never have the urge to go out and think he is undefeatable and strong

Prussia, along with Russia, is another very big one that would very much destroy even another country if they tried to mess with his new sibling and/or steal them away

#aph America #aph canada #aph england #aph France #aph russia #aph China #aph Germany #aph Italy #aph Japan #hws America #hws Canada #hws england #hws France #hws Russia #hws China #hws Germany #hws Italy #hws Japan #hetalia #hetalia Headcanons #hetalia scenarios #hetalia reactions #yandere #yandere hetalia #aph romano #hws romano #aph prussia #hws prussia

[whatshername-please]

Out of the Water - Chapter VI

Synopsis: You were very proud to be a mermaid, thank you very much. You didn't want to be where the people were. Actually, you'd rather avoid it. Defending the merfolk was the biggest goal in your life... well, it was until you meet a certain pirate... it seems that your family really had a thing for humans, after all. Not that you'd ever admit it...

Word Account: 4875

Part 6 of ?

Pairing: Harry x reader (he is not in this chapter, sorry)

 Warnings: Some cuss words and underage drinking. 

A/N: English isn't my first language, so I'll probably mess up some tenses, grammar and stuff. Go easy on me, please. Feedback is always appreciated

Masterlist here

                                                      ---------

"I'm never, ever setting foot on shore again, grandpa will have to find another diplomat because I quit!" you announced very eloquently to the only merman in the room: your brother who, on the other hand, was trying to make you help him with his summer homework.

"Yeah sure, it's not like you say this every time you come back from Auradon or anything" he didn't even bother looking up from his essay "Who won the battle of the Irish Sea?"

"But this time is true, they made it personal" you grumbled, swimming back and forth impatiently.

"They always do..." he said absently, knowing very well it was pointless to try to reason with you when you were having an outburst "Was it the Kappas?"

Ok, no matter how pissed you were, you could not have your own brother messing up the Water Kingdom's History like this, so you sat by his side and took the paper from his hand.

"Let me see this" you corrected him, perusing through the essay he wrote "Not the Kappas. The selkies won after the kelpies joined their side."

"I know you're sad..." Nereus said after a while, eyes filled with concern.

You sighed and put the essay down.

"I'm not..." you began, but he interrupted you before you could come up with some excuse.

People believing that you were angry and cranky was one thing, but Neptune forbid anyone to know you've got a heart.

"Yes, you are! It's been almost a week since you went to Auradon and I've never seen you so off. Yesterday Aethra said she couldn't wait until she was old enough to go to the surface and you didn't even roll your eyes. Last year, when Ogen spoke the same thing, you made a complete speech of why life under the sea is much better than anything humans have to offer, you had slides and everything."

He squeezed your hand gently and offered you a supportive smile.

"Even Aqua noticed how quiet you are… Please don't tell her I'm telling you this, but she said she prefers you ranting to this silence."

"I doubt" you let out a breathy chuckle.

The presence of your brother was comforting so you allowed yourself to let your guard down and lay on his lap while he stroked your hair. Both of you stayed a while like this, each one absorbed in your own thoughts. Yes, it had been almost a week since everything had happened and you still had nightmares about that; the look on Harry's face when he said Ben was just going to throw them all back inside the Isle would hunt you forever.

Truth be told, you swam next to the barrier a couple of times, but the only things you saw were seaweed, rocks, some weird looking fish and a dead goblin. It wasn't like you could ask someone to tell Uma you'd be expecting her and, even If you could see her, what would you do? People inside the barrier could not hear anything from the outside, and again, even if they could, what would you tell her? How sorry you were? That it wasn't fair? Uma didn't need anyone saying what she has known all her life.

You were torturing yourself, feeling your stomach turn on itself with guilty when your grandfather glided into the room. Both of you and your brother stood up, showing respect to the king of the seas.

"May I talk to you for a moment, my dear" he pointed to you and your brother took his belongings and left the room, he whispered a "good luck" as he passed by you and swam off.

"Yes, grandpa?" your chest filled up with hope that your grandfather had spoken to Ben and made him change his mind about the Isle.

However, it was only wishful thinking because the reality was way crueler than whatever you could have imagined.

"About tomorrow…" he started.

Oh no! Ben and Mal's engagement party was tomorrow, but you had already decided you weren't going, no matter how hard your grandfather or anyone tried to convince you to.

You couldn't stand the idea of having to smile to them while all you wanted to do was to scream and cry. How could you pretend that everything was okay when nothing was? The hypocrisy made you sick.

"I won't go" you told him, you even tried to use your 'heiress of the throne' tone, but of course the current king of Atlantica wouldn't fall for that.

"You're the diplomat between the human kingdom and the water kingdom" he reminded you, his expression turning as serious as his voice.

"Was" you corrected him "I quit".

That little voice inside your head was telling to stop defying your grandfather. He could be very understanding of some things (like you still didn't believe he knew about Uma all the time and didn't lose it), but he also had plans for you that required you to be Atlantica's representative, because, accordingly to your grandfather and mother, no one would defend the water kingdom's interests better than you.

Actually, that was their way of saying "We don't want to deal with this and since one day you'll have to rule, it's better that you know what to do. Also, we don't want the fish eaters thinking that we hate them".

But, being honest, your grandfather liked humans now as much as he did in the past; the only difference was that he learned how to tolerate them.

Anyway, the truth was: Auradon wasn't as great as people wanted to believe. In theory, having all kingdoms unified was a superb idea, but in practice most of places were losing their own cultural identity, adapting their traditions and habits to fit in Auradon's new rules. If your grandfather had followed all King Beat's proposals 20 years ago, Atlantica would have become a tourist attraction for humans.

It wasn't like King Triton didn't want to be more engaged in Auradon society, but he was afraid to lose the independence of the merpeople. Thus, he hoped that when you assumed the throne, you'd have a better foreign policy than he had without giving up Atlantica's culture and pride.

He looked at you and his piercing glare went right through your soul...

King Triton, intimidating? No, not at all.

"This is not just the King and Queen's engagement party, but also your friend's"

"But grandpa..." you cried out.

"I won't hear it" he raised his hand to show that his decision was final and he wouldn't hear anything else.

You tilted your head back and groaned, if you couldn't talk yourself out of this, you could very well show your dissatisfaction.

"Glad we came to an agreement" he gave a pleased smile like he always did when his wishes were fulfilled and, as he swam past you, he patted your hair "And you might end up having fun"

You rolled your eyes and lay on the floor, defeated. You don't know how long you stayed there, contemplating your misfortune, when suddenly you felt something walking on your tail; you craned your neck and saw Sebastian staring back at you.

"Traitor" you murmured.

"Being in the human world is never my choice. Your grandfather asked me to" he explained, sliding down to your side and you turned over to have a better view of him.

"No one likes to be there, so why do I have to go?"

"For the same reason I had: your grandfather is the king. But I didn't come to discuss the fairness of life" his words caught your attention and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Sebastian seemed a little anxious: he looked side to side and beckoned to you to get closer and, when you did, he said in a muffled and rushed voice:

"You know Derek? That lobster? Yesterday, he was near the northern part of the barrier and saw a girl with teal hair there... even better, he said it was the second time he spotted her there by sunset"

Before you could refrain yourself, you picked the crab up, holding him on the palm of your hand. There was no use in denying that you knew Uma because Sebastian had followed you in Auradon and was aware that you and the sea witch's daughter were friends.

"What?" you practically yelled and your whole body shivered with joy for knowing that Uma had been looking for you "Are you sure?"

"Yes" he confirmed "I thought it could lift your spirit up "

"Sebastian it did! I'm going there now" you stood up in a heartbeat, but before you could make your way to the Isle, Sebastian called you.

"If you go there now, King Triton will think you're avoiding the engagement party" he remarked reasonably.

Damn it, he had a point

"Why don't you go tomorrow after greeting King Ben and his future queen?" He suggested, eyeing you innocently, but you saw right true his intentions.

The only reason he told you about Uma was to give you a boost of encouragement to go to Auradon again, this way you would be excited for the party and wouldn't complain too much about being there.

He was a clever crustaceous.

Well, it worked, at least now you could pretend you were having fun, whereas what you were really looking forward to was seeing Uma again.

"Deal" you hold out your hand and you he shake it to seal the deal.

Even if the party was dreadful, the perspective of meeting Uma again was pretty motivating. You should have asked if Derek saw someone else with her, it was weird but you wouldn't mind seeing Harry again.

_____________

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm going back there"

Talking to Sebastian got you very excited; however, now that you really had to go, you were having second thoughts about it.

You didn't have to attend to any human gathering to go to the barrier; you could very well wait in Atlantic until sunset.

"Why can't grandpa send someone who actually wants to be there? Aqua wouldn't mind, or April or Adryan..." you whined - any of your cousins would gladly go to Mal and Ben's engagement, but of course you were the one your grandfather insisted on.

Nereus, who tried to fix your hair in a new style, hummed blankly to show he was listening.

"I'm feeling sick... Grandpa can't make me go if I'm sick" you turned your face to him and he casted an annoyed look at you before going back to applying pearls in your hair.

"You already used that one not to go to the Royal Cotillion" he reminded you, turning your head forward impatiently when you tried to look at him again.

"But I was sick" you protested, earning an amused glare from him "I was sick of human's bullshit".

He burst out laughing.

"I don't think our grandfather will consider it a good reason to skip this ball" he said after regaining his composure.

"Well, at least I'll be closer to the Isle" you mumbled to yourself, but Nereus heard you.

"Why? What will you do?" he stopped what he was doing and sat on the dressing table, staring at you "Please, don't tell you plan on bringing the barrier down by yourself".

"I don't have the power to do it… You know I've tried" you joked and thankfully, Nereus played along.

"You don't need power, use your head... I mean... it is very hard. I'm pretty sure if you swim fast enough you can make a whole in the barrier"

You punched him playfully and got up.

"Hey, I didn't finish your hair" he called out.

"But I have to go, otherwise I won't arrive in time" you explained, grabbing your comb and placing it between the shells and pearls your brother had adorned your hair with.

Of course, the truth was you weren't leaving because you didn't want to be late, but because your brother was smart enough to figure out that you were up to no good.

"Wish me luck" you hugged him.

"Good luck!" he kissed your cheek and with that, you left.

Your mother told you to be kind and not to forget the manners she taught you, your grandfather said how proud of you he was and even asked if you didn't want to take his royal carriage, to which you denied politely.

You rather swam by yourself and if you were going to the Isle after the party, a carriage pulled by dolphins would be hard to go unnoticed.

You bid goodbye and took the path towards Auradon. The City wasn't close to Atlantica, but years of comings and goings made you an expert and you were able to arrive there in a very short time. Also, fins were so much faster than legs, which made the travel easier.

In other circumstances you'd have stopped to talk to many friends that lived nearby, but a little mantra was echoing in your mind "The faster you get there, the faster you leave. The faster you get there, the faster you leave" - you didn't mean to stay more than the necessary; after all. Your grandfather told you to go to Auradon, but he didn't say how long you had to staythere.

Besides, Sebastian said Uma was seen at the barrier by sunset, but what if she decided to go earlier?  You were going to be there one hour in advance for precaution.

Although magic was highly discouraged, there was no other way for the merpeople to become human without it. That's why a magical necklace was given to any mermaid or merman who wanted to venture themselves ashore.

Those necklaces weren't given away easily, though. In order to acquire one, you had to fill a formulary explaining why you needed it and it had to be accepted by King Ben and King Triton themselves. It was very bureaucratic and the only reason this process had to be done was because King Beast declared all magic should be banished so you could not hand around magical objects freely.

However, since you were a royal diplomatic, they made an exception.

Call it privilege.

One good thing about those necklaces was that King Triton made sure that once you went through the transformation, clothes would magically appear to. It was a huge improvement since your aunt Ariel had gotten her own legs from her deal with Ursula; imagine how would it be if you had to walk around naked until you find something to wear.

At least the merfolk didn't have to worry about that anymore. So, once you got on the beach and turned into human you had on a beautiful dress that matched the shells your brother chose to decorate your hair.

It wasn't as pretty as your tail and fins, though.

You headed to Auradon Prep because the party would be held near the school (why they were so obsessed by this place was beyond your comprehension). When you finally arrived, everyone was already there, talking and having fun.

Thankfully, your cousins that lived in Auradon weren't hard to find and rushed towards them - you couldn't help but notice that, as you got closer, they exchanged money between themselves.

"What's going on?" you asked, intrigued by what you just saw.

"Nothing" Arabella answered "What a lovely dress you're wearing. How is gramps doing?".

She changed the topic way too fast, which made your curiosity grow, but you decided to ignore it for the time being.

"He is fine. He misses you a lot and says you should visit us more often. I can't understand Bella, why do you prefer being here among sweaty humans?"

"Do you ever change the subject?" she complained, rolling her eyes "This is a party and I refuse to deal with your bullshit today"

"Maybe tomorrow, then!" you fired back and she voiced her discontentment with an exasperated shriek.

"Why are you like this?" she said before flouncing off, bouncing her hair as she did so.

"What did I do?" you asked Ella, who had been quiet up to that moment, and she chuckled.

"I miss this" she said, pointing to you and the crowd.

"You're the only one"

"It wouldn't hurt if you came to visit us once in a while, you know" she looked up, her hopeful smile made her eyes crinkle and you mirrored her expression, smiling too.

Ella was Ariel's younger daughter and, even though you didn't see her as much as you would like, she was probably your favorite cousin; she was kind and outgoing, which was a good counterpoint to your not so affable nature.

Before you could reply, one of the merfolk who attended Auradon Prep joined you both, he gave you a little bow and handed your cousin some money. You waited for him to leave before question her about it.

"Ella, what's happening?" your tone made clear you wouldn't take a "nothing" for an answer.

The girl sighed, knowing it was a lost battle.

"Maybe there is a bet going on…" she told you, voice trailing off.

You raised an eyebrow, face turning stoic and you feigned boredom.

"Does it involve me?"

"Well, some people didn't believe you'd show up today after the whole Audrey fiasco" she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye and, when you didn't say anything, Ella went on "We made a bet: everyone believed you wouldn't appear, you know. I was the only one who knew you'd be here and now I'm making a lot of money."

She showed you the amount she had already won and it was kind of impressive. It seemed that half of Auradon was sure you hated the human world.

They were right.

Okay, not hate. It was a great dislike.

"I can't believe you thought I'd come" you said without hiding the indignation in your voice and a little offended that your own cousin didn't know you better.

"C'mon. I knew you wouldn't want to, but I was certain grandpops wouldn't give you much of a choice, so even against your will - and I know you must had protested a lot - you'd be here today"

Your cousin was kind, yet cunning, and that was why she was your favorite.

"I'm impressed" you clapped, nodding your head slowly as you did so.

"I know. I'm amazing" she teased and then, her expression became concerned "How are you, by the way? I've heard they will close the barrier forever"

You whined, for one moment you had forgotten about how you failed the Isle and Uma. First you were angry at Mal and Ben, but now? Now you wanted blood... not literally, but you were kind of mad.

"I've been better... you just remind me I had to wish Ben and Mal my best regards in the name of Atlantica."

"Okay, see you later" she cheered and added on for precaution "Try to be polite, please"

When she asked you that, the memory of Sebastian, your mother and grandfather pleading you to be civil in this party echoed in your mind.

What did they think of you? That you were a mannerless monster?

You were very well educated, thank you very much, but didn't waste your good manners on people who didn't deserve it.

"Can't make any promises" you laughed off, disappearing into the crowed to find the King and Mal.

You didn't have to look for them for long as a mass of people was surrounding the fiancés to be while they thanked everybody for coming to their party. They seemed so merry and pleased whilst their subjects wished them all the happiness of the world. People in Auradon were just so fucking good and gracious, weren't they?

Hypocrites.

You had a plan, though.

1- Smile.

2- Greet.

3- Leave.

It was simple, short, and impossible to mess up.

Smile, greet, leave, smile, greet, leave. You kept repeating it like a mantra as you approached them.

For one moment their cheerful expressions froze and their eyes widened to the size a saucer, but they recomposed themselves quickly enough. Either they were surprised to see you there or they were afraid you were going to snap.

But you wouldn't snap.

You had a plan.

"Your Majesties" you smiled, bobbing a curtsy to them.

1 - Smile. Check.

They saluted you, asking how things were back in Atlantica and the conversation was brief and polite, like it should be.

"In the name of Atlantica I wish you both prosperity and wisdom to rule, and that your life is filled with great joys"

You said that in a very diplomatic tone that could have fooled anyone.

2 - Greet. Check

They thanked you and you made your exit.

3 - Leave. Che...

"And…" you turned back with a spin.

Screw the plan; you didn't sell your voice to a sea witch, so you may as well use it.

"Speaking for me, I really want you both to be happy. I mean, someone has to, right? Considering that you doomed thousands of people to a life of suffering just so you could have your perfect happily ever after without any inconveniences"

Then, you left.

One day you'd be all diplomatic and shit, but that day wasn't today.

And, to be fair, you've tried to be reasonable for years and all you got was "Oh sorry, we can't let anyone off the island. It's not that simple, this would require lots of planning and social reintegration, but we will take this matter into consideration in the future...". That's why you started speaking your mind: even if didn't change anything, at least it wouldn't leave a bitter taste in your mouth for not saying your real opinion.

Yeah, your grandfather really should reconsider who he sent to land for affairs of state.

Whatever, just a few more hours and you'd be making your way to the barrier to see Uma.

You were trying to find your cousin again when Audrey intercepted you, looking rather tense.

"Hey" she greeted you but without meeting your eyes.

Audrey seemed to have taken a strange interested in her hands, which she wringed unsteadily, you noticed.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for.. you know... cursing you and your family..." she said, voice shaking a little.

Oh! So Audrey was a nervous wreck to talk to you, how amusing. It boosted your ego but you weren't that mean.

"Relax, Audrey. It's all forgiven" you put her mind at ease.

She let out a breath and her face brightened up.

"But" you offered her a smile that slowly fade into a severe frown "If you do it again I'll make you wish for something as sweet as sleeping for 100 years".

It was clearly a joke but Audrey didn't get it as she excused and made herself scarce in seconds.

"You know... if you want people to understand when you are joking, you shouldn't keep a straight face"

You jerked your head to face Jay, who handed you a glass with a purple liquid in it.

"I wasn't that intense" you took a sip of the drink, it was way too sweet for your salted water taste, and you were pretty sure that it was alcoholic too.

Well, maybe alcohol was the key to survive this party.

"C'mon! You were like this" he mimic you, making quite a murderous expression. Then, resuming his neutral expression, he added "You are like the sea'.

That was new… but you weren't sure about what he meant by that.

"I'm salty and I scare people?" scrunching your face up in confusion.

It took some good minutes for Jay pull himself together.

"I was going to say imposing and beautiful, but that too" he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

You couldn't help but crack a smile and, since you didn't think of a good answer (which was very unusual), you took another sip of whatever beverage that was.

Fortunately, Jay didn't notice how embarrassed you were by his compliment and changed the topic soon after.

"So, how ar..."

"Stop right there" you warned him, holding your finger up.

"What?" the VK's brows burrowed in confusion but deep inside he was afraid that he had said something wrong.

"I know this face." you explained "Every time people ask how I am, they do this pitiful face and I can't have that... not from you…".

It was painful how most people assumed that you were miserable because of last week events. Okay, you were sad and pissed but gosh, you hated that condescending attitude.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay" he didn't seem offended by your words, but the atmosphere between you two grew colder and awkward.

Great, of all people you could have snapped at today, you did it to Jay.

Now, you were sad, pissed and stupid.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to be rude" you apologized "If you really want to know, I'm a mess. The only reason I didn't cry this whole week was because I live under water, but if you tell this to anyone, I'll deny it".

"It's going to be our secret then" Jay stroked your arm  to show support "You really care about the Isle, don't you?"

You shrugged, not knowing what to say to him. Yes, you cared about the Isle and the people there; it was hard to explain the reason, though.

Maybe another time…

"By the way, I wanted to ask you this..." he cooed and if you hadn't been so busy with that drink, you'd have seen the mischievous gleam in his eyes "Did Uma and you already know each other, by any chance?"

You choked.

Hard.

Jay went to your aid quickly and helped you to recover, slapping your back lightly.

A mermaid choking on a liquid, what a joke.

"No..." your voice cracked and it wasn't because you're still faint "Why would you think that?"

"Well…" he began, but was cut off soon after.

Thank goodness,  Mal and Ben announced they would start their pronouncement and Jay joined his former friends. All people gathered under the balcony where the Royal Family stood proudly, and everybody was eager to hear the news their King and Queen would say.

It was difficult to hear one's thoughts over the cheering and acclamation. However, since you didn't share their happiness, you stayed away from the commotion, enjoying your sweet drink.

Ben started his speech, of course he was very pleased to have Mal as his queen and everyone was happy.

Everyone, except the people on the Isle, of course.

You scoffed so loudly that if people hadn't been hearing Ben's speech, they would have heard you. Subsequently, the king proposed a toast to Mal and you wondered if it would be rude to ignore it.

Everything would be so much easier if your grandfather had made your brother the diplomat of Atlantica, considering he was a people pleaser like you would never be.

Well, it wouldn't hurt to raise your glass, so you did it... very discretely.

For everyone's surprise, Mal announced she couldn't be Queen of Auradon, causing a wave of gasps and murmurs from the puzzled crowd.

Really? Were they really surprised? Like, Mal was a drama queen, she just needed an emotional solo or Evie knocking some sense into her head for her to change her mind.

Unless it involved the Isle of course, then she didn't care to condemn them forever, you thought bitterly.

Yep, you were salty enough to cause hypertension in every single soul in Auradon.

However, you did not expect, not even in your wildest dreams, what followed next. Actually, even after years, you'd still remember that day and think "what the hell just happened". If people were shocked when Mal said she couldn't be queen, they nearly had a stroke when she brought down the barrier. It wasn't like she let just the villain kids off, she destroyed the barrier, and everyone was free.

As a personal note, you observed how fast Ben changed his discourse from "We can't get the merfolk off the Isle without consequences, we need preparation, meetings, plans..." to "Ok, my bae wants to bring down the barrier and I won't argue with her. So yeah, let's do it".

Not that you were complaining but, had you known that it only took a love potion for Ben do what you wanted, you'd have done it.

Wow! What a wild thought to have...

Maybe you were getting a little drunk...

But the barrier came down so, whatever...

You looked at King Beast's face and he was about to pass out any moment, but other than that, everyone seemed very excited to meet the villains.

It wasn't like a minute ago they didn't give a damn about the people there or their fate.

Well, maybe that was Auradon's magic: one moment you hated each other, in the next you were all singing and dancing on a bridge.

You finished your drink in one go, because that was going to be a party to remember.

#harry hook x reader #harry hook x you #harry hook imagine #descendants imagine #descendants x reader #Out of the Water #uma daughter of ursula #jay son of jafar #mal and ben appear too but meh #harry hook fanfiction #descendants fanfiction

[thefanficmonster]

Your Enemy

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: Angst, Eating Disorder, Swearing, Trauma, Anxiety, Spoilers for HTGAWM Season 1, Mentions of Murder

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: Following the most stressful events she’s ever had to deal with in her life, Michaela is forced to face a demon she thought she had left in her past. Luckily, this time she doesn’t have to deal with it on her own and has the support of a person she deemed least likely to ever come through for her.

Requested by Anon. Hello darling! I’m so happy to be hearing you’ve completed a full year of ED recovery! I’m very proud of you for having fought such a tough battle and came out of it a the bravest, strongest winner. Hope you enjoy the fic and hope it doesn’t trigger any bad memories. If it does, please let me know wo I can change it up. Love and care about you lots, Vy ❤

It’s been almost a month now. Almost a month since she was involved in the murder and dismemberment of her professor’s husband who her and her classmates were sure was the killer of a college student by the name of Lila Stangard. A month and she still can’t stomach any of it - a month during which she hasn’t stomached much else either. 

It all started the morning after the murder when she was still a distressed and disheveled mess, a nervous wreck that refused to leave the confinement and safety of her home and face the world out of fear of getting that stamp and punishment she knew she deserved. She knew she was basically a criminal in hiding. They all were and it was frustrating as all hell to see them all putting up with it so well like that murder wasn’t their first or their last. They almost came off as though they felt they did the right thing - rid the world of one more disgusting prick which Sam undoubtedly was, but that still wasn’t on them to decide. What they did was still a crime, they were still killers and would get charged as ones if this was ever to be found out by any law enforcement.

And Michaela Pratt could barely live with herself.

That first week her stomach was in constant knots that would tighten at the mere mention of food. Therefore, she lived solely on liquids that supplied her with faux energy and nothing nutritious that her body could work with. Then it became a habit. Well, it had more so to do with the fact that she looked in the mirror one day after showering and noticed the sudden change in her body, how it seemed smaller and, in her eyes, prettier than before. She liked the ‘improvement’ and wanted to hold onto it, linking it to her new eating habits she decided to stick to them. Though, they can’t really be called ‘eating habits’ considering she spent a great deal of time not eating anything at all, leaving large gaps between each tiny meal and drinking significantly more black coffee. She even developed the bad habit of smoking - a way for her to get out of the room whenever the rest of the Keating 5 were on a lunch break.

She hated the familiarity of it all, but there was also a certain dose of comfort to it. She had faced this demonic entity that resides within the very mind of the troubled person and that’s why she wasn’t scared. It felt more like opening the flood gates she had barely managed to shut and keep closed in the first place. Hell, it was almost relieving to open them up again, allow the inevitable to finally happen.

Having to lie about eating, having to renew her wardrobe with clothes of a smaller size - and some larger ones to hide the sudden change in - and dealing with dry and cracked skin, chipping nails and thinning hair were only few of the hiccups Michaela started facing when her weight loss became more significant and apparent, so much so that the Keating 5 were starting to worry. She was used to lying and making up stories about it. After all, this wasn’t her first time going down the dangerous lane that is undereating and abruptly losing a ton of weight. As mentioned, she dealt with it as a teenager for almost two years. Eventually, her lies started becoming see-through, causing her family to force her into recovery which eventually worked - took her a while to cooperate, but she managed to be convinced her life was to be lived properly. Her success was to be earned in more ways than boney limbs and vertigo every time she stood up. She came to the realization that the world was a crueler place than she had anticipated. It was a warzone she needed to be strong to face and, having become thin as a stick and mentally rattled she was terribly underprepared for facing and battling any of it. 

Michaela Pratt decided she deserved better - chose to toughen up and take the bull of her life by the horns and control it properly. She finally became the one really in control - not her self-destructive side, but her rational, fighter side. The warrior in her decided enough was enough.

However, for her, there’s never such a thing as enough.

Sensing it was a delicate and rather triggering subject, the members around the Keating household were more than reluctant on touching the topic and asking at least one of the many questions they always had in mind.

Why do you suddenly wear such wide clothes?

Why do you no longer put sugar in your coffee?

What’s with those bags under your eyes? You haven’t been getting much sleep?

How come you always have a big breakfast even when you wake up late?

Why do you never eat?

Those and so many more questions swarmed the heads of her friends but none of them were brave enough to say anything. No one went to look for her around lunchtime to see where she goes to hide during that period. No one mentions their suspicions and doubts about her statements. No one dares to point out that she’s become a ghost of the Michaela they previously knew. She’s not as fierce as she used to be - not the same way. She just snaps at people, throwing empty insults at them. Her focus has dropped significantly and she often times falls asleep while on the clock, working on the case. They all see it but they all choose to be passive on-lookers, by-standers, no one sporting the guts and bravery to bring it up and ask her or express worry.

Well, no one except the brutally honest and straight forward Connor.

“And here I was wondering where our Shooting Star had fallen.“ He says, making his presence known verbally only after he snatched the pack of cigarettes from Michaela’s hand, startling her to no end. “Since when do you smoke, by the way?”

“None of your goddamn business.“ She hisses back at him, reaching for the stolen pack like an angry tigress. “Give them back, asshole.“

She’s stopped in her futile yet hostile attempts of retrieving the stolen cigarettes when Connor grabs one of her arms and develops a downright terrified look on his face: eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open, confusion, shock and concern in his gaze. That’s a rare combination for him - someone who’s supposedly super laid-back and careless. That concern is what hits her the hardest. It catches her so off-guard she puts her movements to a halt and just stares back at him for a few seconds, both of them deciding what to say.

“Michaela, what have you done to yourself? What are you doing to yourself?“ He asks her, still not letting go of her arm which feels tiny in his grip. His fingers loosen their hold instinctively, as if afraid that any more pressure could break it. “Are punishing yourself for what happened to Sam?“

Michaela returns to her senses, shaking her head and frowning as she yanks her arm out of his grip. “Nothing happened to Sam!” She whisper-yells, narrowing her eyes, glaring at him with a fiery intensity, “Don’t talk like he died of a heart attack or in a car accident. We happened to him. We fucking killed him, Connor! Come to terms with that already!”

“Scream that louder, will ya? A more perfect confession doesn’t exist.“ Subtly, he slips the pack in the back pocket of his jeans, the movement flying under Michaela’s radar since she’s so laser-focused on his face and the subtle changes in his expressions. “Seriously, what the hell are you doing? Is this the punishment you think you deserve?”

She rolls her eyes, “That’s fucking nonsense. It’s no punishment, I just wanna fit into my wedding dress come the time I have to walk down the aisle.“

“So fitting into your wedding dress is the priority? Tell me, what will your hairdresser and make-up artist gonna say when they see your cracked and bruised skin, your thinned hair, the massive bags underneath your eyes. Also, are you even gonna fit in the dress or is it gonna hang on you the way it would on a stick figure.“

“Shut up! Connor, my life, my appearance and my eating habits are none of your business. You can’t play the caring enemy and fuck with my head - hating me one minute caring about me the next. It really doesn’t suit you, in fact, it’s below you.“

“Michaela, I’m not your enemy.“ He taps her temple with his finger, getting his hand smacked away about a second later, “That brain of yours is currently your enemy, not me. You need to get rid of it.“

“But what if I can’t?!“ She snaps, her eyes glistening with tears Connor didn’t expect to see, “What if that’s all I have? That me who’s constantly whispering to me that I don’t need nor deserve food - she’s stuck with me longer than anyone else has. She’s been with me since I was fifteen, Connor. Fifteen! She never left, even when I tried to push her away and chase her out of my head. She stayed there, and now she’s helping me. You wouldn’t understand! You don’t have dresses to fit in, people to please, your own criteria to fulfill! You don’t even feel like you deserve punishment for what you did! You dismembered a human being, Connor! When are you gonna come to terms with the fact that you’re a murderer?!“

“When you come to terms with the fact that you’re killing yourself, Michaela!“ He too snaps, unable to control his emotions when faced with a literal life or death situation - one regarding his friend on top of all.

No, she’s not my friend. I’m just doing what any person would do in this scenario, he convinces himself. Turns out there are several facts Connor Walsh can’t come to terms with - caring about his biggest rival is one of them.

“She’s not your friend, Michaela! She doesn’t want anything good for you. She’ll end up leading you to your death if you keep listening and trusting her! That Michaela is the one deserving of punishment, not you. Don’t let her overpower the rational Michaela I met that day, the first day of class. The one I wanted to strangle for being so cocky and self-centered and was stealing my spotlight. The one who left me in the dust a few too many times for me not to respect her. She could kick the self-destructive Michaela’s ass. Let her.“

A choked sob escapes Michaela’s throat as a result of Connor’s speech. The last thing she expected was support and help - she was prepared for the mocking, the sympathy and pity, the ‘Seriously? Get over it, will ya?’ or the ‘It’s all in your head. Just eat, damn it.’ she grew used to hearing the first time she was dealing with an eating disorder. If she wasn’t still herself she would’ve probably even given him a hug - one she’d regret later - but she remained in her spot, arms folded over her chest, nodding slowly.

“Thank you, Connor. But it’s not as easy as you make it sound.“ She sniffles, her gaze wandering elsewhere, embarrassed by how she broke down in front of him just now. Lord knows she’ll be even more pissed later, but right now she’s got other things on her mind. Something she hadn’t even brushed upon before this conversation with Connor - recovery. She’s not used to seeking help from anyone for anything, especially not something she saw as her superpower until someone forced her eyes open. Forced the epiphany on her that she’s not living, she’s killing herself.

“Of course it’s not easy. That’s why no one does it alone, you know.“ Hesitantly, very very hesitantly, he lifts his hand, cautiously placing it on Michaela’s shoulder. “People reach out for support and go talk to professionals. You don’t have to do this alone. In fact, you can’t do this alone.“ He pauses, waiting for her gaze to meet his. When it does, he continues, “I won’t let you.“

Never did Michaela expect support from anyone, never did she want or need it. But here she is receiving it from the person she thought least likely to offer it. Never did she think there’d come a day when her arms, as if on autopilot would, wrap around Connor Walsh in a tight embrace of gratitude. While pretty startled, he manages to return the hug after blinking once or twice to comprehend the situation.

“Thank you.“ He hears her whisper and that’s more than he ever thought he’d get from her.

“Don’t mention it.“ He lets a small smile slip onto his face as his hold on her tightens ever so slightly.

#how to get away with murder #htgawm #htgawm season 1 #htgawam #htgawm season 2 #htgawm season1 #connor walsh #michaela pratt #michaela & connor #connor & michaela #laurel castillo #asher millstone #wes gibbins #annalise keating #frank delfino #bonnie winterbottom #sam keating #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #fluff #platonic fluff #rivals to friends #comfort #hurt/comfort #platonic relationships #request #requests open

[freckledoriya]

“stakeout” (izuku midoriya x reader)

PAIRING: izuku midoriya x reader WARNINGS: slight self-deprecating angst, but really just fluff! WORD COUNT: 1.6k

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my entry for @bnhabookclub’s “celebrating deku” event! it’s also my third fic for bingo (see my bingo masterlist here). and a big thanks to @shoutosteakettle who helped me with this!

You had accepted your place at the pro-hero agency: a second-rate sidekick destined for nothing more than low-risk missions, paired with heroes that were far better than you could ever hope to be. It wasn’t that you didn’t try hard or didn’t want it enough; ever since you were little you longed to be the kind hero you grew up watching on TV: noble, brave, courageous… you’d like to think you encompassed those traits, but you never seemed to capture the public’s attention. You were more of a background person, someone who would choke up when the camera and microphones were pointed at you. You didn’t speak in heroic soundbites or have the kind of smile that sells magazines, so you had to make your name as the reliable sidekick in low publicity cases. 

You honestly had accepted the reality of it all. Besides, if being a notable pro-hero meant all the public scrutiny of an A-list celebrity, you were happy to pass. Still, it always stung watching new recruits to the agency getting assigned cases you were, on paper, much more qualified for. You were expecting the same kind of stinging feeling during this weeks’ morning assignment meeting, waiting for a lower-rank hero to pick you up as a side-kick for some kind of petty theft crime. Which is what made it all that more surprising when your name was called by the number one hero, Deku, requesting you as his sidekick for his recently appointed mission. 

“S-Sure,” you reply, caught off guard. Your response earns a few scoffs from the other side of the room from some popular heroes. 

Izuku Midoriya smiles as he locks eyes with you, before blushing and quickly looking to the side. “Let’s meet today at lunch and sync up about the villain.”

Deku was the kind of hero you wanted so badly to hate. You wanted to hate his heroic power, the way he seemed to encompass everything a hero should be. You wanted to hate how magazines and news reporters adored him, how every word out of his mouth could be a headline of how a perfect hero should act. Most of all, you wanted to hate him for his smile, the way it printed perfectly on newspapers and made your heart skip a beat whenever you saw it. Yes, you wanted to hate him. But of course, you couldn’t. Instead, your heart chose to fall for him. You would often catch yourself staring at him during agency meetings, envying his popularity yet loving him for how humble he was. 

You spend the rest of the morning racking your brain for an answer why. Why would the number one hero choose you? He had previously never spoken a word to you, just polite nods at the water cooler. Maybe someone had dared him to go on a mission with you? Was he actually much crueler than you thought, and he was just doing this as some kind of joke? You consider these possibilities as you sit down at the table for lunch, chewing your lip nervously. 

“Hey!” Izuku says as he pulls out the chair across from you to sit down. “This shouldn’t be long. It’s a fairly simple assignment.”

Simple. Is that why he chose you? You nod and gesture for him to keep talking.

“There’s a famous crime syndicate that’s taken up residence in the city. You’ve probably heard about their signature bank robberies” 

“Of course,” you say. “They’ve been able to evade capture for years now. I figured the city gave up on trying to catch them.”

“The city did, but I didn’t.” he responds. 

There he goes, with that heroic soundbite, you think. 

He swallows nervously before continuing. “I think I found out where their headquarters are, but I need some kind of confirmation before any infiltration.” 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, curious to see what the hero has planned for the two of you.

“Just a stakeout. Should only take the afternoon.”

You inadvertently make a face at this, and Midoriya immediately starts apologizing.

“I’m so sorry to have asked you for such a boring mission but, you see, the agency wouldn’t let me do this by myself so they asked me to choose someone to watch my back during it and I just figured you’d be okay with helping out-”

“Of course!” you quickly say. “I was just surprised, is all. I’m not exactly known for doing stakeouts.” 

“It'll be fine,” he assures. “I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could do it.” 

You feel your face heat up at the compliment, finding yourself at a loss for words. The fact that Deku thinks highly enough of you to choose you out of everyone else sends your mind into a whirlwind. 

The two of you make plans to meet up that afternoon to start the stakeout. You find yourself constantly fidgeting with your hero costume, nervous for what the mission will bring. 

Izuku isn’t doing much better, spending the rest of his day on patrol, muttering to himself about how the night might go. He’s never been one to be nervous for assignments, but he knew this was no ordinary mission. 

Midoriya has had his eyes set on you for some time now, settling in on longing gazes and daily daydreams where he has the confidence to go up to you and ask you out. He’s always looked to you as one of the few people at the agency that really seem to grasp the purpose of being a hero; someone capable of so much if they were just given the chance. He liked to think that that was the one reason why he chose to team up with you on this stakeout. After all, he never would have picked you if he didn’t think you were right for the job. No matter how cute he thinks you are.

But you were right for the job. So he swallowed his fear and chose you.

You two leave the office that afternoon in an undercover van and ride to the suspected location in silence, both of you stuck in your own heads about what to say and how to say it. The conversations revolve only around the task at hand as you both settle in for the night, until-

“Why did you choose me?” the words spill out of your mouth suddenly, catching both of you off guard. “I mean, there are plenty of other heroes and sidekicks much more qualified for this than me. And anyone at the agency would kill to be assigned to something alongside you.”

Izuku lets out a quiet laugh. “They wouldn’t be very good heroes then, would they?” 

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m not very popular at the agency and I know that. I don’t make headlines and never seem to say the right things to reporters... Not like you.”

He sighs before turning completely to look at you. “I chose you because I can tell that you understand what’s important about being a hero. You know, so many people think that being a hero is about a popularity contest. But never you. Everything you’re ever given, even things way below your pay grade, you give 100%. That’s something that I really… admire.” 

Izuku clears his throat and blushes before turning back to the house. You open your mouth to respond, but your mind isn’t working properly-- it’s too busy trying to process the kind words from the number one hero. Your breath is caught in your throat and it feels as if your heart is going to burst out your chest. 

“Thank you,” are the only words that end up leaving your lips. 

He glances back at you and flashes that picture perfect smile of his that sells magazines, but more importantly at this moment, makes your stomach do flips. “Of course.”

A beat passes before he speaks up again. “Besides, I definitely don’t always say the right things to the press. They really freak me out sometimes.”

“You? Freaked out by the press?” you question. You never would have guessed that the number one hero could be freaked out by anything.

“You’ve seen how flustered I get during meetings, let alone talk shows and interviews.” 

“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty stellar job,” you reply.

“Fake it ‘til you make it,” he says with a slight smile and shrug.

You sigh. “I feel like I’ve been faking it for a long time and I’m still not making it.”

Midoriya looks at you knowingly. He’s seen how you’ve been treated at the agency. He’s seen your potential go unnoticed. But the look he gives you stirs something inside of you, something you’ve been feeling since you were tasked with this stakeout. You finally put your finger on it:

“But… you make me feel like I can make it.”

Izuku looks like he could cry at your words. And he probably would have, if the sound of a slamming door didn’t catch both of your guys’ attention.

“Gotchya,” you say, snapping pictures of the villain entering the building. 

Midoriya grins. “Nice job.” 

“We should do this more often,” you say with a wink.

He blushes and fumbles over his word. “I-I promise to take you somewhere better than a stakeout van.” 

TAG LIST: @gallickingun @prismaroyal @wesparklebitch @bnha-violetnote @sunflower-kami-boi @shoutosteakettle @strwbrry-lia @ee-blue @shoutodoki @sadistiks @knifeewifee @viceofaladriel @saltie @khemz1312 @frenchspeakingfilipina @tessaisalbright @katsumi-kaminari @pixxiesdust

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #bnha

[mismaeve]

♕ Burning Lights ♕

Chapter 6 of the Burning Lights series Pairing: Katherine Pierce x Elijah Mikaelson Warnings: None POV: Katherine _________________________________________________

Charlottesville was cute for a small town. Katherine had asked the concierge for directions for the nearest park, and as she walked around looking for a place to sit and relax, she felt herself slowly unwind. She picked a secluded bench nestled in neatly between shrubs and flowerbeds. Katherine sat down and enjoyed the pleasant silence. She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing herself in the serenity which surrounded her. She took a couple of deep and soothing breaths and opened her eyes again. If there ever was a moment to contemplate one’s life, it was now.

ㅤ

She was human now, she had allowed that reality to set in the day after she had met Elijah. But was she really human? Unlike in 1492 when she had been as human as one could possibly be, it was different now. She had been a 544 year old vampire before Elena Gilbert had shoved the cure down her throat causing her to loose her immortality and turn human. Did anyone really know how the cure worked aside from the very obvious? Were there any side effects? Say if she were to get hurt, would vampire blood heal her? And more importantly, if she wanted to be turned back into a vampire, would that be possible? Katherine sighed. These were the questions that were really important to her, questions she needed answered in order to get a picture of how she should live her life. Sadly for her, no one had any answers seeing how Katherine, to the extent of her knowledge, was the first vampire ever to be cured of vampirism. Not even Elijah could provide her with any insights. She had to know for sure whether she was human or simply a cured vampire. She supposed she could ask Elijah to lend her a hand in figuring this out. She could cut herself and then have his blood heal her to see if it would work. 

Say it would work and his blood would heal her, it would also mean that she could turn again, wouldn’t it? Katherine didn’t like this, too many variables, too many gaps. She wanted to live, no matter whether she was vampire or human. If only she would know for certain that it was possible to turn back into a vampire. It would provide her with a sense of security. That was settled then, she’ll tell Elijah of the experiment she has in mind, and then she would take it from there. Assuming he would go along with it..Why wouldn’t he? It’s not like she’d ask him to turn her, just a drop or two of his blood to heal a pesky little cut on her finger. As simple as that, no muss no fuss. 

ㅤ

And if it didn’t work and his blood wouldn’t heal her? A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Katherine wasn’t one to panic or brood, so if his blood wouldn’t heal her, she would deal with it then. Just like she had dealt with things in her past. Even though becoming human was the last thing she ever wanted to do, she would deal with it. Katherine didn’t believe in self-pity or self-loathing, she didn’t believe in moping around or wallowing in one’s misery. No, that wasn’t her. She was a survivor. She knew she would survive this because she had survived worse. If she had to live her life as someone who couldn’t be healed by vampire blood, then she would live accordingly. After all, that’s how humans lived anyway. She glanced over to where people were taking their daily strolls in a park, slowly, casually, seeming carefree and serene. She would bet her life that none of them knew of any supernatural existence. Were their lives better off that way? They didn’t know that they could be healed by vampire blood. They lived their lives as always, and if something happened, sickness or accidents or you name it, they went to a doctor who would do their best to patch them up and send them on their merry way. She would have to do the same. Katherine nodded to herself, worst case scenario and Elijah’s blood does nothing, she will live, she will take care of herself as best she can and she will try her absolute best to make a life for herself. What was so bad about a ‘white picket fence’ type of life anyway? Okay, maybe not that, but a penthouse in New York sounded appealing, or a Malibu beach house.. And who said she would have to stay in the States? She could leave for Paris or Barcelona, hell, she could move to Bali and live out her life on the beach with a tropical drink in hand. A tiny smile crept up on her lips as she listed all the possibilities. Her brow furrowed some as she felt something flutter inside her stomach. A tiny voice in her head said that she was missing something. Something or.....someone? 

ㅤ

With a heavy sigh, Katherine slouched on the bench she was occupying. Elijah freaking Mikaelson. Now that the Original vampire wasn’t looming over her shoulder, she figured she could allow herself a moment of brutal honesty. Currently, Elijah was being a royal pain in her ass, preaching about the perks of her having turned human never once permitting her to express her feelings on the matter. She expressed them alright but he didn’t seem to hear it, he dismissed them as one dismisses ramblings of a lunatic. That appeared to be the case with their other issues as well. Elijah Mikaelson, the man who claimed to know what’s best for her. As if. If he could spare a fraction of his time to actually listen to her and take her feelings into account, maybe then they could move forward one way or the other. But for as long as he remained set in his ways, she didn’t stand a chance at being heard, let alone accepted. She could live with his rejection, but what she couldn’t live with was him refusing to let her be her own person. My Katerina, he used to call her and at the time it seemed kind of sweet but she was more than that. Katerina was innocent, naive and believed in true love. She had lost her innocence the night she had fled for her life trying to escape Klaus, and if anything of that innocence was left after that, it had shattered into a million pieces when she found her entire village and family slaughtered. She stopped being naive once she saw just how cruel the world could be, so in order to survive in it, she had to become crueler still. She wasn’t just Katerina, she was also Katherine Pierce. Strong, wilful, resilient, smart, cunning, independent, confident, fierce and brave. She no longer needed to rely on others, she didn’t need a hero and she sure as hell didn’t need to place her faith in anyone else other than herself. Her faith was in herself and her alone. Yes, she had been forced to do some despicable things to survive, she had manipulated and she had lied, and she had killed. So freaking what? She refused to believe that the noble Elijah Mikaelson hadn’t done the same and worse. His brother had. Elijah wasn’t noble, he was a hypocrite as far as she was concerned. 

ㅤ

Katherine bit her lip. And yet.... If she closed her eyes and evaded all her reason, she knew that she loved him. She wanted him. But she didn’t need him. Katherine Pierce sighed and allowed herself a moment of innocent daydreaming. If Elijah managed to pull out the stick stuck up his ass, listen to her and allow her to be herself, she could consider giving him a chance. Even him apologising, sincerely so she knew he meant it, would go a long way. Katherine chuckled lightly, wouldn’t that be a sight to behold - Elijah Mikaelson on his knees begging her to forgive him. Her smile slowly turned into a sad one as she knew better than that. She knew heaven and earth would move before Elijah would even consider begging her for anything. He once told her that him wanting to believe her was like a disease, maybe her loving him was her disease. Maybe the sweet poison that was Elijah Mikaelson had poisoned her so deeply to her core, that no antidote would ever rid her of it.  

She had decided to stay for a moment longer, not really thinking about anything. There was only so much heavy thinking one could do before their mind threatened to run away screaming. She let herself enjoy the last moments of peace and quiet before getting up to head back to the hotel. As dusk settled over Charlottesville, Katherine entered the fancy hotel they were staying at. 

_________________________________________________

#kalijah #kalijah au #katherine x elijah #elijah x katherine #katherine pierce #elijah mikaelson #katerina petrova #tvd #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom #the vampire diaries #kalijah fanfiction #kalijah fic

[whyiask]

it didn’t matter anyways

ships: platonic LAMP & platonic or romantic Princxiety WC: 2526 Summary: set post POF, Roman has a breakdown and Virgil is there to help him tw: crying, little bit of blood, self-deprecating thoughts, depressing thoughts(kinda), tell me if I missed any genre: HURT/COMFORT with mostly hurt and a tiny bit of comfort at the end

---

Roman wanted to be angry. He should’ve felt angry, but as he sunk out and popped up in his room, a cold iciness had settled in his chest, numbing him to the core. It didn’t matter anyways. He didn’t deserve to feel angry. He had no right to.

Inside Roman’s skull, his mind was turning, spinning, crashing around and turning upside down. What was right side up anymore? Had he ever been right before? It didn’t matter, nothing did. His chest had gone numb and his head had betrayed him, twirling dangerously on its axis as his entire world turned upside down.

Deceit was wrong… no, he was right now. Roman struggled to keep up with the others, he always had. J- Deceit has used him, manipulated him, tricked him, and it was Roman’s fault. Deceit wove one pretty speech and suddenly he was the good guy and Roman was still at fault.

Good guy, bad guy. Relative terms. Life wasn’t pure black and white, Roman knew that. It still hurt. With a gasp, Roman hit the ground with his fist. To feel something. Anything. He wondered vaguely when he had dropped to his knees, but it didn’t matter. It never mattered.

His head was swimming and his vision was blurring- it took all of his remaining strength to keep from falling over, curling up in a ball, and never standing up again. With a grunt of effort, Roman pushed himself off of the floor, clinging desperately to the wall as his knees shook below him, silent sobs wracking his body. He shuddered and sank back down, tucking his knees against his chest and burying his head in his arms. How pathetic was he? He couldn’t even stand.

It was not okay not okay not okay not ok- but did it really matter? Did it matter if he was okay? No, the answer was no, it was always no, because he was in the wrong here. Wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong-

Roman didn’t know when the tears had started. He was heaving in great lungfuls of air and still couldn’t breathe. More moisture dripped down his face but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It didn’t matter anyways-

I wouldn’t be able to tell who the evil twin is.

Ja- Deceit’s voice echoed in his head, pounding through his skull. He curled tighter around himself, whimpering pathetically, as the voices grew louder, more persistent, stronger, changing the words, slapping his harshly across the face as the words became steadily crueler and crueler. Logically, Roman knew that Jan- Deceit- had never said the things he was hearing, neither had Patton, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Even if they hadn’t said them out loud, he knew they had been thinking it.

It’s hard to tell who the evil twin is.

Roman covered his ears fruitlessly. His breath was coming in increasingly shorter gasps and his fingernails dug into his skull. No no no no no no no-

I know who the evil twin is.

Roman pressed his hands harder, not noticing the blood starting to drip from his temples. He didn’t notice how his room shook and twisted, nor the way his clothes were slowly but surely fading in color.

The evil twin.

Pictures were falling off of the wall. Rain was pouring down in heavy waves. His mind was shaking and his room was shaking- he was shivering and crying and wasn’t breathing- but he didn’t notice. The only thing he could feel was Deceit’s words, twisting themselves round and round, stewing, bubbling in his head, warping reality and invading every thought. There was a steady pounding in Roman’s skull- or maybe that was the room, he couldn’t tell.

Evil.

With a gasp of horror- or, he would’ve gasped if he had remembered how to breathe- he realized he couldn’t hear J- Deceit’s voice anymore. But the voice hadn’t stopped. It wasn’t Patton either, nor his brother. It was him. His own thoughts echoed back at him, reverberating around his buzzing skull and he tugged at his hair uselessly, desperate for the cruel voice of himself to stop, stop talking, stop yelling, stop-

It stopped. The room had stopped shaking- maybe Roman had a better grasp of his emotions, maybe he simply didn’t have the energy to feel any more. The world came to a stand still, and Roman nearly almost took a breath, allowed himself a moment of relief.

But it was not meant to be.

“Everything is gonna be okay, kiddo,” a vision of Patton flashed dangerously in Roman’s mind eye. “Don’t worry, I know who the evil twin is.”

That was all it took for Roman to double over himself, curling farther into himself and rocking back and forth with dry sobs. He didn’t have any tears left.

The pounding in his skull was getting louder, faster. With a sudden jolt, he sat up straight, staring at his door with glazed eyes. It wasn’t in his head. Someone was banging on his door.

“Kiddo, please open the door,” the real Patton’s voice begged.

Roman shrank in on himself. Normally, he would never allow anyone to see him like this, ever. But it didn’t matter anyways, did it? It did matter, it matters it matters it matters it… 

It was a good time for realization, as Roman had made many that day. About Deceit, Janus, about himself and about his twisted perspective of the world. It had been a big day of realization after horrifying realization. He could dwell on that later. At the moment, Roman made one more realization: he realized- and became acutely aware of- the fact that he had not breathed in a solid two minutes, and with his lungs compressing and his winded state, it seemed unlikely he could call out to Patton at all.

He sucked in a breath, but it wasn’t working.

Another voice joined Patton at the door. In his slightly delirious state, he could still recognize it instantly as Virgil. They conversed briefly- Roman was too tired to make out the words- and then Virgil called through the door.

“Roman?” A pause. “Roman, I know you’re in there. Can you come out? You’re starting to worry us. Your room was shaking just a minute ago?” It was phrased as a question, but Roman could hear the- well, the anxiety- behind his words. He almost could’ve laughed, but the whole air thing still wasn’t cooperating.

“Hey, I- we’re getting worried. Please say something back, or else I’m coming in.”

Roman tried again, breaths getting more frantic by the second. His pulse was speeding up again as he desperately took in shallow breaths, chest barely rising.

“Is Roman in there?” A new voice- Logan- called out. It was father away than the others, so Roman figured he was just now coming down the hallway, most likely to check out the shaking.

Not a second later, the door flew open. Virgil stepped inside, before jumping back out with a yelp of alarm.

“It’s raining in there,” Virgil sounded taken aback. “Is that even a thing?”

Was it? Roman thought the rain had stopped, but apparently not. It probably wasn’t a good thing he felt this numb, this out of touch with his own body.

Patton nudged Virgil aside and stepped into the room, fatherly concern written all over his face. He spotted Roman in the corner almost immediately, running over as fast as he could and kneeling beside him.

“Roman,” he gasped. “Are you okay?” He reached out but didn’t touch Roman, unsure of what to do.

At Patton’s gasp, Virgil and Logan came back into the room. Virgil’s face melted into one of horror and Logan took a mini step backwards. Roman laughed internally. He must’ve looked like a hot mess. Nay, not hot, cool. Nay, not cool, uncool. An uncool mess. He supposed that’s exactly what he was.

An uncool, pathetic mess. But it didn’t matter anyways.

He still couldn’t breathe.

Virgil noticed this almost instantly, rushing to the fallen prince’s side. “Can I touch you?” he asked quietly, and at Roman’s small nod, he placed a hand on Roman’s arm.

“Roman, Princey, you have to breathe- okay? You have to, come on. Breathe with me.” Virgil slowed his breathing, counting on his fingers, and slowly, Roman copied him, breathing in sync with Virgil. Logan crouched on Roman’s other side, reciting the counts with Virgil in a low, soothing tone.

It felt better. He could breathe again. The hand tightening around his chest began to loosen and he could breathe, it felt so good-

Patton pulled him into a hug. Roman stiffened at the contact, but relaxed into the strong arms, biting his lip to hold back another onslaught of tears.

“What happened?” Logan asked quietly after a moment of silence.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Roman muttered, pulling back from Patton and slumping against the wall again. Logan blinked in surprise and Patton made a small sad noise. Virgil stayed quiet.

“Kiddo, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” He repeated the words like a mantra, the only thing keeping him from cracking open.

Virgil spoke up. “Ro, why do you keep saying that?”

Roman flinched back. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Patton insisted. “We all made,” his eyes darkened as he spoke, “a lot of mistakes, but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter!”

Logan coughed.

“Except for Logan, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” Patton amended.

“Yes, thank you,” Logan sniffed. “But I do have to agree with Patton on this one, Princey. We would like to listen to your problems and assist in brainstorming possible solutions.”

Roman gave a watery laugh. Nobody laughed with him.

Virgil was staring at him oddly.

“What?”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Hey Pat, Lo?” he addressed them without taking his eyes off of Roman. “Can you give us the room for a moment? I promise we’ll be right out. Maybe go bake some cookies in preparation? For a movie night.” He added the last part as an afterthought, lower and darker than the rest of his statement. “I think we all need it.”

Patton looked uncertainly at Roman, who simply nodded his head. Logan grabbed Patton by the arm gently and led him from the room, closing the door behind them for privacy.

Virgil continued to stare at Roman with his deep, expressive eyes, and Ro started to fidget under the stare.

“Are you okay?” the words were spoken softly, a mere whisper off Virgil’s tongue, but Roman could hear them clearly.

“No,” he said honestly. It didn’t matter anyways. Virgil wasn’t going to care, and it was better than possibly catching the attention of a certain snake-scaled lie detector. Still the word felt foreign on his tongue.

Virgil frowned slightly. “You’re bleeding.”

Roman looked up in surprise. “I am?” It was the first genuine emotion he’d shown since the others had arrived, and a small smiled graced Virgil’s lips, even despite the situation at hand.

Virgil waved his hand and summoned a first aid kit. He offered it to Roman, who hesitated for a moment before declining. The prince was surprised at himself- he normally never let anyone else take care of him. However, he supposed, after his...  his breakdown, he needed it. Virgil worked in silence for the most part, taking Roman’s hands gently when he was done.

“I-” he hesitated, searching for the words. “I don’t know what happened, and I haven’t seen the video yet, but I am truly sorry for whatever they did to hurt you like this.”

“I’m sure you’ll think differently after watching it then,” Roman turned away, avoiding eye contact.

“Princey, what-”

“I’m the bad guy, okay?” he burst out. “I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy, I’m the bad guy and I always have been! I’ve been too blind to see it.” He punched the wall behind him. “Too blind, too stupid, too slow to keep pace with all of you, too loud when I’m stating my opinion, not helping enough when I try to keep quiet. The bad guy when I side with Deceit and-” he took a shuddering breath, fizzling out from his outburst.

“And…?” Virgil prompted.

“And still the bad guy when I side against him.”

Roman could see the gears turning in Virgil’s head.

“So…” he began slowly. “You sided against Deceit in this most recent video, and- and the others said you were on the wrong side? That seems awfully hypocritical of them.”

Roman looked down. “I was horrible.”

Virgil’s head snapped up to stare at Roman. “Don’t say that,” he said. “You are not horrible, you aren’t a bad person, maybe you made a mistake-”

“That’s the thing!” Roman shouted to the ceiling. “It’s not just ‘a mistake’ it’s not ‘one mistake.’ It’s not even two! It’s just mistake, after mistake, after mistake, after mistake. I say I’ll get better and then I don’t- you all move on to new things and I’m too slow to catch up. Apology after apology, mistake after mistake. I’m a mistake.” 

Roman uttered the last sentence so quietly, Virgil had to strain to hear him. His face hardened as the words registered in his mind.

“Roman,” Virgil said firmly. “You are not a mistake. You never have been. They’re wrong, they are in the wrong for making you feel this way. This is not okay. I’ll have a talk with the others later about this, I won’t share anything if you don’t want me to…?” Virgil trailed off uncertainly, a question lingering in the air.

“Please don’t tell them what I said.”

Virgil pursed his lips. “Alright, if that’s what you want.” He stood up, stretching his arms out, and offered a hand to Roman. The prince took it gratefully hauling himself up and taking a moment to steady himself. He shot an unsteady grin at Virgil, who smirked back.

Roman hesitated before stepping forward.

“Thank you, Vee.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “What, no witty nickname?”

Roman looked him straight in the eye. “Not today.”

“Well, then you are welcome, Roman. Ready to go talk to the others?” Virgil extended his hand and Roman took it, squeezing tightly before pulling Virgil into a full hug. It lasted a moment before he pulled away, slightly misty eyed.

Roman followed Virgil out the door, leaving behind as many insecurities, issues, and tears as he could. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was nice to have finally been allowed to say what was on his mind without repercussions. He took a deep breath, smoothing out the wrinkles of his prince costume, before changing his mind and snapping into a hoodie and sweatpants for something more comfortable.

And so what if nothing was fine? He might’ve been breaking down a few minutes ago, but now he was feeling lighter than he had in ages and was walking hand in hand with someone who loved him- just fo being him- they were family, after all.

Nothing was fine. Nothing was okay. Things were still going to be hard.

but what did that matter anyways?

----

Taglist:

Okay so- @queenofsassgard @arushahisatroll @introvertedtater-tot when you asked to be on the taglist, did you mean just the AU taglist or any sanders sides fic in general? because if it’s the first option, then i’m so sorry about the tag aha-

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #post pof #post svsr #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders centric #roman-centric #angst with a tiny bit of comfort at the end